Lipmeat: The other, other, other, white meat.

2005-09-22T14:38:00.000-04:00

Wow, look at this pittiful ass blog. She certainly is no http://nomilk.blogspot.com, that guy's blog makes me happy in the ole' happy no no down there place. Ummmm well the non- sexual version of the ole' happy no no down there place.... Anyways, I really am thinking about starting to keep up this thing or simply start another one. As I slowly wake up from this 5.6.7 year coma'esq period of pain/suffering/sorrow/self pity/pain/deep dark hole depression/hermit-ness/pain/did I mention self pity. Its time to start taking part of life again. Seeing how I only have one. I have been so low for so long, 90% health and the rest just giving up and letting it consume me whole, that I really dont know where to start. But I do know this, well I have a strong theory, that if I somehow get back that 10%, if I fight, if I push, maybe I can push thru another 2% or 4 % or well, ya get the idea. I am basically tired of being sick and tired. 2 things I have not much affect over if any at all, but what little affect I may posses, hell, I let the sickness and sadness and tiredness have that as well. The saddness, pain, lethergy, and anger as it pertains to my health problems CONSUME MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT. I can not have a thought about anything, virtually anything w/o it being tainted by it all. My life revolves around if I have enough sleep and/or pain meds to keep from being in the writhing maddening pain and soreness I know all to well. When it comes to the issue of meds, just the stigma alone of dealing with the HMO/Health care industry (thats what it is a F-ing big/cold industry) and dealing with people's perception in private life and work life, of you when pain meds are such a big part of what one needs to move/do/be/survive. The looks, the complete lack of understanding or attempt to understand. I think on this level, the "look" of sick v/s the "look" of not sick. If Fibro's pain showed itself on the outside of the body the way it feels inside, muscles and sinew would swell and split thru the skin burn and bleed for them to see. There would be a "visable" fog around you. The buick you feel parked on your neck and various other body parts would be visable. It would be less "worriesome" for the general masses to see you take your prescribed meds then, me thinks... Far fewer side glances when that big bottle comes out of your purse or bag or pocket... Wow this is getting all rambly, I used to look at others blogs/journals and say, " man thats so self abosrobed, just to sit there everyday or so and write endlessly about this that and the other thing." Well, I still think that can be true, but dammit, this feels pretty healthy. If Im gonna try and take any of my life back from this shit, Im gonna need to get it out, get my rant on!! SCREAM TO THE RAFTERS -UMMM or something like that. I figure ive been self abosrobed in misery for the past how-many-years, so a little self absorbtion in trying to get a little bit of my life back, can't be too bad. I feel like I used to have so much inside. So much love/art/beauty/truth/kindness/sensuality. I haven't had anything even remotely looking like sexuality come from inside this aching black hole of a body and mind for so terribly long, that the last time a Woman flirted with me, it took her a couple good throws before I even caught it, and then I could barely remember what one does when one is flirted with. Ahhh and as for the loose ends and little things and the big things, and the really fucking big things that you put off and/or dont deal with when trying to hide from life. So many loose ends. Personal ones, financial ones, work ones. It all seems so fucking huge!!!! from the over due bill/s, to the shots the cat needs, the dog's "old lady pills" (we call her vitamins and joint therapy pills that), to the ex-girlfriend you've been meaning to actually have the "ex" talk with for about a year, to the GYN check up you needed 2 years ago, to doing the "pill count" to make sure you are gonna have enough left till its refill due time, to cleaning the bedroom its taken 2 months to get it to look like a person lives there v/s a crazy horder bag lady person. All the materials for the crafts I want/ed to make. research on the zine I want/ed to publish. poster boards for the yard sale I want/ed to have. A little sweet old guitar from Good-Will I want/ed to learn how to play, again (x3) wheeeeew!!!!!!!!!!! Look at all that bitchin!!!!! WOW, felt good to get some of it out. I WANT MY LIFE BACK! AND IM GONNA FUCKING TAKE IT BACK.....LIKE A BANK ROBBER...GIVE ME THE LIFE AND NO ONE GETS HURT.....anymore.... Thats where I am..... Kicking names and taking ass..... Yeah, like that Y'all.... D.

I GOT A DATE!

2004-07-15T14:13:00.000-04:00

After a good year and a half of jumping thru various hoops, loops, and dealing with a gambit of HMO Officials, and am ample amount of worry and concern about, what the hell am I going to do with what I have/where I am with my health/life. Am I ready to do this? Well Yes I am and on 08/06/04 I will be having RnY Bariatric Bypass Surgery. For those who read this and have an interest in the process, I will add info about the process and details about WlS as I can. For those of you on the journey yourself or thinking of it, please feel free to ask anything. Im ready!!!!!!

My Dog's Morning Breath and Vote Democrat

2004-07-11T12:52:00.000-04:00

Smells like hot garbage, butter milk, and a rusty penny. My Dog's morning breath, not voting Democrat mind you, that smells more like sweet potato pie or a good PB&J Sammich.. Pucker up Baby! Anyhoo....... Go to http://www.johnkerry.com/front/splash.html Lets give this John Kerry fella a chance. Dubduh is a bad bad bad man. I know that is over simplifying things, but what could I possibly say that hasn't been said or isn't glaringly obvious. I am a big ole, slightly below middle class, sickly, female, fag, who isn't into self hate for any of the above, nor do I enjoy seeing my fellow sickly, queer, poor, brothers and sisters affected by his reign, nor do I fancy the fact that, "No child left behind" doesn't apply to the non white non rich. In fact, one has to wonder what if any interaction the president has ever had with the non white non rich that didn't involve his wife's rose garden or his dinner. (No conter attack can involve the name Condeleza as she owns her very own oil rig, named after her even) Rant and raving aside, which loosely translated means, more ranting, and run on sentences in my case. I know this is another well known fact, but I feel the need to get it out of my little hamster run, A vote for Nader is a vote for Bush. Yes it is. Yes. Now, am I anti Green party, no, I am actually a fence sitter between Green and Democrat. A fence sitter that realizes, while Mr Nader's stance is great and wonderful, He will not be elected. The sad truth is that he only serves as a sucking leech of votes, that take away from Kerry's chances.. I don't know that Kerry will be any better or not be a lieing scum bag, but I got a feeling he will do his best and that he gives a shit. But either way, its worth a 4 year shot...

A Journey, or something like it.....

2004-06-24T13:42:00.000-04:00

Ahhh here we go, I knew at some point Id actually get to the point of this whole blog/journal thing. Once I go beyond the fear of rampant self absorption, that you often see in these things, I'm finally here.... Well lets see, Deladis is not my real name but one I like a whole lot. I am fat dykey chick/grrl/woman/womyn in my later/ish 20's, that loves my dog to pieces, and enjoys all things artsy fartsy. Everything that has happened up to now, has been the vehicle that brings me to this point, the point where the actual journey begins. My life hasn't been the worst in the history of the living being, no holocaust no plague. Mind you its been pretty ruff. Currently, I am dealing with (some days) a pretty large grab bag of illnesses. Highlighting my days with pain, anger, sadness, and grief are my not so good friends, Fibromyalgia, Diabetes, Spondylosis, TMJ, sleep Apnea, numerous bulging discs, spinal issues and the thing that gives them all a big helping hand, morbid (gotta love that word) obesity. Now, in a nut shell, various symptoms and associated woes, that all these things comes with, the sum of all would be simply "life thief" My life, or what it could be and at times has had the opportunity to be, has been bit by bit, ounce by ounce, moment by moment, stolen from me. Am I bitter, yes. Am I angry, yes. Do I pity myself, yes, but on good days, I push thru it all. I make it so I can go to work, go to the store, and get a few things done around the house. This is all I do. I have absolutely, no resemblance of a personal life. I live, move, and wake up another day on little more than hope and pain medication, that works, when it feels like it and is never enough, that is both the hope and the pain meds. I luckily have a good support system. A Mother, not given the tools by her own mother, for affection or emotional support, still manages to be the strongest, caring person I know, and the most, there-for-me, a person could possibly be. A Mother that is frustrated and tired in her own right, for all she has to handle. As the understatement of the century, our roles, should not be as they are. A daughter, in my case that never feels like anything I do is right or enough, simply because it isn't. All I ever desperately want is her affection and any and all kind words she would/could share with me. I can see how, circumstances present, those words and hugs are hard to muster. My life, my mere existence is hard to stomach and even harder to keep my proverbial chin up about, for all those close enough to have their hands sullied by it. I have friends. Have had lovers. Neither of which get close enough to deal with or have too much knowledge of my problems/issues. Some have came very close. A friend that I love dearly and hold as close to my heart/soul as anyone, who's not my Mom, I ever have, a friend of whom's new/only grandchild, I learn about thru pictures and stories. A closeness that survives on short talks, meaningful glances, and goodbye hugs. I miss her, I see her everyday at work, yet I miss her deeply. An ex lover I care for/love that I don't know how to share with and become annoyed to easily with, because she hasn't the capacity to understand. So many people that want in, that only get so far. For as much as I need human comfort, just as much, I want to push it all away, because they don't understand. They can't. I envy them, their healthy bodies, there clear, calm minds, their lives. I envy peoples petty problems. I only find solace and understanding in pain. I understand very little else. But now I am at a proverbial cross roads, something is about to happen that will hopefully give me a chance. A tool to help build a new life. A helping hand. I've decided to take it. And I'm really scared. Ofcourse, I'm really scared to stay the way I am.

Flower Pics

2004-06-22T16:29:00.000-04:00

Whooo hooo Im blogging, and like most blogs, ive managed to post several times thus far, w/o actually saying anything remotely important.. Anyhoot, here are a couple pics of my mum's flowers. I am not the greatest photog mind you, but I get my point across. Whatever that may be...

WWBJD?

2004-06-22T15:10:00.000-04:00

I dont know about you, but me, I prefer my homophobia oldskool screaming and foaming at the mouth style, its easier to pickup on, easier to weed out. I have no particular like for the quite snide looks and tiresome "fake fear." Just wonder, What Buddy Jesus Would Do??? Now that makes me breathe abit easier........ Oh, and.....

First Post, Little or Nothing to Say

2004-06-22T10:15:00.000-04:00

I don't know exactly how I feel about this, I mean I have and do the whole paper journal deal, which becomes more of a hassle than an actual outing of the days feeling and blah blah, so I fear this will go the same way. But I figure, being who I am and what Im going thru, its not like I don't have things to say or feelings to vomit out, so lets just give'er a try then.. Oh, yeah the lipmeat thing is a nod to my baby girl. Im one of those Jabber wockies that think their pets are their children. My girl is about 7 years old and is named after a character in The Color Purple novel, not so much the movie, which wasn't that bad mind you. "Shug" has this little bit of over hanging "lipmeat" on both sides of her sweet maw, that I love to kiss and nibble on at random intervals. We often make sweet sweet non sexual human dog lovin.. I highly recommend it. Pet adoption is one of the greatest things I've ever done..... My lipmeat, it entrances you, do you have any chicken or cheetos or pudding?