A Letter to Firnlambe...

Our friendship came as a bit of a surprise, didn't it? *chuckles* Considering you didn't even like me when we first met. Hell, you don't even remember our first meeting! Bitch...

You were the friend I wished for when I was younger. Don't get me wrong, I had friends that I hung out with and whatnot but I could probably count on my two hands how many "sleepovers" I had. My mom kept us a bit...secluded...and sleepovers only really happened for special events and even then, I had to be home pretty early the following day. 

Now I have sleepovers all the time and they can last for days. Well, we used too any way. Things have been a little too complicated lately to have as many sleepovers as we used too but hey, that's life right? 

You're probably wondering why I am writing this to you but...I have no reason other than to show my appreciate towards you for the whole interwebs to see. Last night--you know what I'm talking about--you kept your head and dealt with my craziness in stride rather than looking at me like "What the fuck..." which means more to me than you'll ever know. This isn't the first time it's happened in front of you, either. You get enough people to look at you like "What the fuck..." and it starts to leave a mark on people's psyche. 

I'm not perfect and you know that. In fact, many things are different for me, *chuckles*. But you accept it even when I can see that it annoys you. 

I'm not saying we won't ever fight in the future or have our days that we literally repel each other--case in point, B.A.P--but knowing that it's temporary and I can always come back to you and know it'll always be alright, means the absolute world to me. 

Kamsahamnida jeongmal, Eonni.

Touch my Kyuhyun though, and I'll forget I ever wrote these words. ;) Saranghamnida. 

Two pennies for the show...

You learn a lot a out yourself when you think about hurting yourself. I can laugh at it nowadays even though at the time, it felt terrible.

Here's an example: Whats the difference between someone purposefully burning themselves and those who purposefully cutting themselves? The end result is the same right? Pain.

Well any woman who has given birth will tell you there are different levels of pain. Hell, I suppose a man who has ever been kicked in the testicles, will tell you there are different levels of pain. To me, this is fact--unless you are one of the people with the rare disorder Congenital Insensitivity to Pain w/anhidrosis, or CIPA. Then...obviously you dont feel pain.

Its not very different with Burning or Cutting--it brings on pain as a way of--for some people like me--releasing built up emotion that is otherwise unable to find an outlet.

But burning lasts longer and hurts more than cutting. Cutting is a sharp pain--fire leaves more of a duller, slow pain. But not even just the pain that goes intobconsideration. There's the aftercare!

If we are discussing those who do not cut with the intention of killing themselves, cutting is the easier way to go. Its a sharp, quick pain that merely hurts for a few hours. Burns are not quite so easy. Burns automatically sends the "area of damage" into lockdown, crisis mode in the sense that it enlists the immune system into helping take care of the burned skin. The healing starts immediately but takes days to finish. Burns are also more susceptible to infection. At any moment, necrotizing fascitiis (or skin eating bacteria) could be on our skin and if you get that little guy in your burned area--well you might as well say goodbye to your appendage and if you dont catch it in time, you might just say goodbye to your life.

Because the body is having to regrow several milimeters of new skin, which has 5 layers in and of itself , the spot becomes tender for much longer than that of a razor cut.

Most people choose to have a quicker healing process. I, for example, needed to heal quickly so I could hide it better. Not to mention, I didnt want to deal with the medicinal care that burns require. Nope, slice and dice, get my emotional-release fix and Im on my way. 

Not very many people understand cutting besides those who have taken part in it but let me assure you, we do get something out of it. Its akin to taking a deep breath and saying "Whoo-saaa". However,  the feeling and reasons behind cutting differ for everyone.

I promised mh husband many years ago--never thought Id be in a relationship long enough to say "many years ago" but that is a pure sign of me getting older--anywho, I promised my husband that I wouldn't cut anymore. I have relapsed a couple timea over the past eight years but have (for the most part) kept my end of the bargain.

I have found an alternative! Tattoos! Same level of pain, same level of emotional release but eirh artwork instead of scars. Ive also heard of "scarification"--the act of slicing the skin with the intention of decorative scarring.

That would be a long way off because I very much doubt that when my husband said "We'll discuss it in the future" that he actually had any intention of letting me allow someone to purposefully cut my skin.

I suppose by now I sound positively insane. *shrugs* Im not but then again, I suppose every insane person denies their insanity.

Maybe thinking that we arent insane is insanity itself.

Fuck philosphy. I took it in college my first semester. Surprised the heck out of me when I passed. Math, on the other hand, I had to take twice. But not philosophy. 

My father told me I should be a psychologist because I have pretty good  insight but I think all psycologists are either 1) have spent their life trying to self-diagnose themselves; and/or 2) are trying to hide their own fucked up nature.

I put little to no stock in it, depending on the subject. If we are talking actual mental development issues, Im all for using psycology as a way for helping people. If we are talking about why "mommy/daddy didnt love me"-type situations, then please leave me out of it.

Which type of psycologist do you think are in my family?

Yup, that about sums it up.

-Aunnie

A penny's worth....

I have to go back and get another MRI. My head problems started almost a year ago--September will be the anniversary.

I wish I didn't hope it was cancer. This is the thought that floats around my head and it's terrifying. The cancer part isn't terrifying. It'd almost be a relief because then I'd know what was causing the fluid build up in my brain.

No, the terrifying part would be what would happen afterwards. Would my family worry about me? I'm not stupid enough to think that they wouldn't be worried or scared but would they show the same amount of worry--emotion, in general--that they show my sister?

You want to talk about sibling rivalry? I feel like I'm always at the bottom of the totem pole in my family and right at the top, the very highest position, is my sister in all her unsettling glory. It's been like that since the age of 13. Thirteen years later and I'm circling the same wrestling match against my sister and winner takes all. I'm usually the loser.

The first time I felt special in this family was last September when I was sick. I was in such pain that I could no longer hold it inside. My mom took care of me. She made me stay at her house just so she could take care of me. And when I finally discovered why I was sick, she looked so concerned for me that I felt like a horrible person for feeling good even while being sick. I made a lot of people worry and it felt good. I'm a despicable person for feeling that way, I know it.

My family expects me to be strong; I can't fall apart no matter what the occasion because well...I never have before. But I want to so bad that I can't seem to get my mind off of all the possible ways I could make my life a wreck. I want to smoke cigarettes in front of them just to appall them but I don't. Why? I don't want to disappoint them--and they will be disappointed. I just want to make them worry. I want to scare them into remembering that I'm a daughter too. I'm not a colleague, I'm not a friend, I'm their daughter.

The only thing holding me together is these medications and my husband. My husband has held me together for nearly 8 years but now I need support myself with medication. Now I just feel tired. I would never give up on life but I want to.

These just seem like a lot of crazy ramblings from a crazy person and I am a crazy person. I love who I am. I just wish I felt like I was worth what I know I am worth in my heart to my parents.

I was born to fix a marriage and to provide companionship for my older sister. Is that all I'm destined to be? I hope not.

-Aunnie

Truth or Dare

One of my husband's cousins is getting married next month; this past weekend was the date of her bridal shower and bachelorette party. My mother-in-law, who is usually the first to say the oddest things, called me after the bridal shower and told me she had a bet going with my sister-in-law, her daughter. Apparently my sister-in-law argued that most newlyweds do not use every item a woman receives at her bachloerette party. The following was our conversation:

Mother-in-law (MiL): "Aunnie? Did you use every gift you received at your bachelorette party?"

Me: ". . . *Silence* . . . *chuckle*. . . Why?"

MiL: "I'm just curious."

Me: ". . . *Silence* . . . This isn't like the circumcision question, is it?"

MiL: "*Laughs* No, no, no."

Me: "Yeah, we used all of them."

Sister-in-law: "Well, no normal people use all of the gifts!"

The implication that my husband and I were abnormal was something I took as a compliment. However, the conversation took me back to my own bachelorette party and I dug up one of the more...abnormal gifts we received: a "Cosmo's Truth or Dare; Our Naughtiest Sex Game Ever!" I do not see a copyright stamp but I give full rights to the creator because this game is cool.

There are one hundred and twenty cards in all and each card has a truth or dare question/challenge. I've gone through a few--not all because I do not wish to ruin the game for any who might be interested--and some of the questions/challenges are entertaining and sometimes...a little enticing. If you're into that sort of thing.

One such card read:

• Truth: "Neck? Ear? Collarbone? Which of those body parts do you prefer me to nibble on?"
• Dare: Nibble on my earlobe for two minutes. 

...huh...I daresay those are interesting. 

Another:

• Truth: "What physical trait of mine first caught your eye?
• Dare: Choose one part of your body, and I'll massage it for thirty seconds--but only that one part, so choose wisely?

If a woman picked that card, she may take a minute to answer because nine out of ten, she'll pick a spot that actually needs to be massaged--shoulder, back, leg, are just a couple examples. A man? A man will, nine out of ten times, pick one area--if you catch my drift. Stereotypical? Maybe, but there are stereotypes for a reason. 

Last card before I close out the blog: 

• Truth: How long would your ideal quickie last? Describe every moment.
• Dare: Write an explicit note to me, then hide it someplace where I'll find it.

Dare kind of sounds like a fun, scavenger type game--also known as the "safer" route to travel.  Truth sounds like the preemptive strike that would start World War III. I know I can not be the only one to think this...

Well, I hope I entertained some people. See ya next time! 

A Name's Worth

This is my son: Dobby Vincent Valentine. Quite the name for such a small, furry fella but using only one name seemed somewhat disingeniune to the living being I've decided to take care of. A pet is more than an object; it is something you dedicate time and emotion on so calling them something as simple as what we call every day appliances--microwave, vacuum, straightener--seems unfair.

Most people only get to name a handful of living beings and couldnt possibly use all their favorite names! Picking a name for your children, well, thatcould quite possibly one of the hardest choices in your life! 

My husband and I have debated many times what to name our future children. Luckily for me, my husband is letting me get my way for our future daughter's name. It was a name I'd chosen in High School and never had any intention of compromising on: Lilliana Jasmine. 

My mother argues that it is too long of a name to give to a small human. In my eyes, my little human wont always be little. Sure, it may be a somewhat difficult at first but eventually my child will pick it up. 

Its the boy's name we are debating. I told him he could pick the boy's name with the understanding that I can veto names I absolutely cannot agree with. Names such as Lieot, Elric, Zander,  and Kain have been discussed but what can I expect when his best two best friend's children are named Kaladin and Gideon. They are both wonderful names and they are a little different which is exactly what I want for my children's name. However, my child is the one who has to live with it! Therefore, am I morally responsible to take their future opinion into account? Had my parents asked me, 'Heather' is not where that conversation would have ended up. 

However, 'Heather' is not an altogether bad name. In fact, its a respectable name considering its normality! It is not common, nor is it "over used' like such names as 'Sarah', 'Amanda', or 'Jessica'. Once again, these are fine names but you are 5x more likely to run into a Sarah, Amanda or Jessica than you are to the a Heather. 

So I guess my question is...am I morally obligated to take my future child's opinion into consideration when choosint a name or am I allowed to indulge myself and pick a name of my preference?

I guess I won't know until I have children of my own...

-Aunnie

Moments in Life

Life would be boring without memorable moments. Whether its hanging out with friends, meeting your future spouses or the birth of your child, these are amazing moments. However, not all moments are good.

As an example, I had one if the scariest moments of my life recently. I came home to find my youngest son (of the feline variety) locked out on our 3rd story balcony.

And the worst part of it . . . I still have no idea how he got out.

Miraclously, he didnt fall off the balcony or jump over to the adjacent balcony a mere foot away. I dont know whether he was too scared to get close to the edge or not curious enough to make the dangerous leap to investigate the neighboring balcony, which is his usual nature.

The very idea that my pseudo-son could have died is, to borrow a quote from J.R. Ward, "not something I could do in the hypothetical".

I had a good freak out moment and cried, held my son and, of course, thanked the Lord above for not taking away one of the most precious people--for he is a person to me--in my life.

However, not all moments are horrifying. One of the happiest moments of my life was getting into the college I wanted.  Til the day I die, I will never forget the phone call. I had been denied first and was devastated because I wouldnt be able to go to the only college I ever wanted to go too but my mother found a loophole. I didnt even know she'd been looking but she found it and when she called me, she only asked me one question: "Do you still want to go to St. Cloud State University?" I had given a very lackluster "Yes" because I didnt believe I'd be able to get in but then she said she found a way. I burst into tears and fell to the floor.

It wouldn't be until later that I realized people weren't lying when they said "Everything happens for a reason." Had I been accepted on the first try, I would never have met the person who would ultimately introduce me to my future husband.

I still dont want to believe everything happens for a reason because so many horrible and despicable things happen for no apparent reason at all but maybe, just maybe, there is a reason for some things...

The Idea of a Picture

Update on the resident Black Lagoon making those hellish sounds from my endarkened corner of the parking lot. I discovered a curious lack of sound on July 4th and again this evening, July 5th. The factory behind my parking lot treeline is uncharacteristically dark. Meaning, the lights around the building are off.  This usually means one of two things; 1) either the area has lost electricity in which case I, too, would be affected; or 2) they are closed due to the holiday. I am inclined to believe the latter.

I am comforted in knowing the mystery of the sounds.

I saw fireworks last night from four different celebrations. It reminded me of my favorite advertisement logo: Disney.  I'm not talking the 1990's span across the silver, spiked globe or the blue screen with a crossing rainbow. Im talking the newest one. Top of the tower with a retreating camera span to a starry-lit city surrounding a castle with a cool, smooth stream near it. Yeah, that one.

Which of course led me to thinking about two of my favorite images in the world:

1) The Mummry Returns: Imotep is standing on a balcony with the reincarnated Princess Anuk-su-na-mun (?) and he uses his magic to show her a vision of their previous lives and it spans out to show Ancient Egypt. Its a beautiful night scape with the pyramids dimly lit by torchlight and ancient-style boats navigating, what I can only assume is, the Nile--although Geographically speaking, I'm not entirely sure that is accurate--and it makes me speechless.

2) The other picture belongs to Thomas Kinkade. He was known as the 'Painter of Light' while he was alive. He made stunning paintings that always make me think of a fairy land. The name of the painting is 'Make A Wish Cottage'. If I were going to live in any fantasy,  that is where I would go. It is the most peaceful image I could think up. If you have never seen Thomas Kinkade's artwork, I suggest taking five minutes of your time and googling this artist.

Well I am starting to feel buggy on my balcony which is never a good sign so I shall retire for the evening...or is it morning? My friend likes to believe it is not morning unless they have gone to bed and woken up. I'm inclined to agree.

Good night, Annyeonghi Gaseyo. 

-Aunnie

Gray Dawn of Joy

Early last evening when the sun was still very much in the sky I sat on my balcony and listened. Yes, I am referring to my last blog post wherein I discussed the weird sound coming from my parking lot. I did hear it whilst sitting on my balcony so I know the cause of this sound does not belong to the "creature of the night" variety.  That still leaves ghosts or creatures of the black lagoon...The only creature of the black lagoon I want any association with his my grumpy oldest cat so I have decided to not venture into the unknown. It shall remain, forever, a mystery.

I didn't go into work today. I woke up and decided "to hell with that bullshit" and opted to deal with the consequences at a later date. Most likely on Monday...I could blame it on the meds I'm taking as of late which keep me tired almost 90% of my day. I think I have slept more often recently than I did in High School which is saying something. So long are the days I'm up until two in the morning doing whatever pleases me at the time. I fear it will be like this until I get on my next set of meds.

Its been a long time since I was on these types of medications: antidepressants and mood stabilizers.  That familiar feeling of "Ugh" is back but it should be temporary. *crosses fingers* I'll report back on that in a couple weeks when things have calmed down mentally.

In the meantime,  I'll keep enjoying the outdoors my peaceful balcony has provided me and go through the motions of daily life.

Until next time 안녕히 가세요 ("Annyeonghi Gaseyo")

-Aunnie

Sounds in the Night

Its 62° in my neck of the woods tonight. It wasn't that long ago that 62 degrees would have felt marvelous however, after experiencing 80+ degree weather lately, I've begun to realize I have already adapted to the summertime heat. This does not sit well with me. It wont be long before the fall frost begins to coat our grass in the early hours of morning and the hint of winter is in the air. *sigh* Such is the life of a north-midwestern. However, I was born in California--but that is another story.

What concerns me at this late hour is the weird sound that has been coming from my apartment parking lot. With the general lack of vision in my eyes to begin with and my acute eye problem since last September, seeing the perpetrator has been, well, unsuccessful.  I would say it sounds like one of the small dinosaurs that ate the cocky Russia mercenary from Jurassic Park 2--Peter Stormare's character--however that would sound ridiculous to anyone who wasn't raised in the 90's. However, I digress. The first night I heard it, it sounded like a rusty door hinge. I surmised it to be the swinging door by the garbage bins. However, Im not so sure that is true anymore. Yesterday I noted that the sound increased and was becoming more frequent.  Tonight, it almost sounds like a creature of some sort. If you are a horror fanatic like me then you'll understand when I say that the cause of this sound could be from any possibility of the spine-tingly variety.

I have spent the last ten minutes weighing the pros and cons of conducting my own personal investigation once the sun rises high in the sky however, Im not sure if my need to give in to my curiosity is important enough to snoop into the unknown.  If only Chen were here...don't sweat if you don't know the reference. Chen belongs to a different world not many are prepared to face. That is also a story for another time...

It seems my body is not ready to face the familiar decrease in temperature that we will all be forced to adjust too in a few months so the idea of going back inside is appealing.

This is, most likely, the first of an actual blog thread that I feel the need to begin.

I hope everyone is tucked away, warm and cozy in their beds and until next time. 안녕히 가세요 ("Annyeonghi Gaseyo")!

-Aunnie