A friend of mine had this on her MySpace page. I wanted to post it somewhere that I would have access to it regularly (in case she changed her page). It's an amazing piece, and, incredibly, something I *needed* today...
PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.
Sunday, November 4
Sunday, August 26
Fathers and Daughters
I finally gave in and listened to that Alec Baldwin thing. It took me back. Even the tone of his voice was just like my dad's. I remember answering the phone once and my father saying, "Hey lard-ass." My mom had answered at the same time I did, and heard the whole thing. I was embarrassed. I didn't want her to know that my daddy hated me. Not doing my chores, not looking the way he expected me to, not being the miniature woman that he thought I should be, not being good enough in any way.
My heart is breaking for Alec's daughter. It hurts so bad to have the most important man in your life speak words of hate to you. And now, the poor girl knows that the world knows, too. Her pain is going to be deep and lasting.
I certainly hope that this ego-maniacal, misogynistic man realizes how harmful his words are and gets some help.
I feel so silly right now. I feel like the 12 year old girl. Why am I bawling because Alec Baldwin said some mean shit to his little girl? It's just fucked up.. Why is it so hard for us to simply LOVE our children?
My heart is breaking for Alec's daughter. It hurts so bad to have the most important man in your life speak words of hate to you. And now, the poor girl knows that the world knows, too. Her pain is going to be deep and lasting.
I certainly hope that this ego-maniacal, misogynistic man realizes how harmful his words are and gets some help.
I feel so silly right now. I feel like the 12 year old girl. Why am I bawling because Alec Baldwin said some mean shit to his little girl? It's just fucked up.. Why is it so hard for us to simply LOVE our children?
Friday, May 11
Crazy Bitch
Apparently I am going off the deep-end and don't even know it. Well, actually I do know it and I try to suppress it, but I am not doing a very good job. For the most part, I am physically feeling pretty good these days. Not too many electric pulses and not too many migraines. I still get both, but not several times per day.
My sleep patterns are all fucked up and that really bugs Tom. I don't know what to do. I've tried to be as respectful about it as I can, but laying in bed staring into the dark doesn't work for me. So, I am relegated to the guest room for now. Until I can get things figured out with my circadian rhythms, anyway.
Once again, if you are ever to consider going on an SSRI/SNRI, do it very carefully. It seriously screws with your system.
much love
the lunatic
My sleep patterns are all fucked up and that really bugs Tom. I don't know what to do. I've tried to be as respectful about it as I can, but laying in bed staring into the dark doesn't work for me. So, I am relegated to the guest room for now. Until I can get things figured out with my circadian rhythms, anyway.
Once again, if you are ever to consider going on an SSRI/SNRI, do it very carefully. It seriously screws with your system.
much love
the lunatic
Friday, April 20
One Week....
...and I am finally feeling really human again. I am still getting horrible headaches, but I think I have found the proper thing to manage them. The shocks only seem to come when I am tired, which I get easily.
I didn't feel the overwhelming desire to curl up and hide from the world today. I didn't need to cover my eyes and pray for the nausea to pass.
I am really feeling like I am coming back.. it is like this weird rebirth process or something.
hoping this finds you well
Binks
I didn't feel the overwhelming desire to curl up and hide from the world today. I didn't need to cover my eyes and pray for the nausea to pass.
I am really feeling like I am coming back.. it is like this weird rebirth process or something.
hoping this finds you well
Binks
Monday, April 16
Day Three, attempting to climb out of hell...
hahahaha.... well the side-effects are still there, but they are waning. I haven't taken ANY Effexor since Thursday, when I took about 1/8th of a 150 pill. I've figured out the only way to make things better is with orgasms and sleep. So, guess what? I am going to go nap... lol
luvs
binks
luvs
binks
Saturday, April 14
Don't hit the kids...
it f*cks them up later in life. hahaha! Like you didn't know that, right.
It's funny. I spent my whole life denying the shit that I went through as a kid. Now, let's get some things clear about this. I am not whining. I am just talking. My childhood wasn't fabulous, but it sure wasn't terrible either. I just forgot to deal with any of the bad shit until I was 30 years old. Up to that point, I just pretended that everything was honky dory.
I've spent the last two years working through some shit. I am learning how to like me. I am realizing that my self image is totally fuc*ed up and that I need to fix that. I don't need to see myself through rose-colored glasses, but I don't need to see myself through the fun-house mirror, either. It's funny, I had to get fat to realize that I wasn't fat. Now I just need to get back to not being fat again...
I went to shrinks, I talked with friends, I thought, and thought some more and more and more... you get the picture. I spent the last two years of my life processing the first 25ish of my life. It was hard work. It got the better of me a lot of the time. It made me cranky, cantankerous, and I often self-medicated myself into an oblivion. In the end, I got through it.
I am learning how to take care of myself. If you read the "broken" blog, you will understand where I am at mentally. So, I've been making appointments, seeing doctors and getting some things taken care of. Because I am worth it. I am slowly weaning my way off of the Effexor that I was on. It is hard. Shit, let me rephrase that. It sucks balls! I just really don't think I need it though. I think it was a band-aid that I used when I was looking for a quick fix cure to my brokenness.
So, I went to the doc yesterday. I had seen an otolaryngologist about a year ago and he was a total prick to me, so I never went back. This new one seems to be pretty nice, and he explained a lot to me.
When I saw the ophthalmologist last year, she told me that I would have to have surgery on my brow because of the damage done to my forehead by blunt trauma. She asked if my husband beat me. Of course he doesn't. So then she wanted to test me for Bells Palsy. Well, when I told her that I had been hit repeatedly upside the head, but it was just a long, long time ago. She told me that is why I needed the surgery on my forehead. Anyway, so it tore me up. I was so angry and so bitter with my father. I cried. I screamed. I got drunk. I got more angry. I called my gramma (his mother) and told her that she should tell him what he had done.
So, I keep digressing, I am sorry. Here's the thing: He f*cked up way more than just my eyebrow (my eyebrow is slowly falling over my eye). He f*cked up my nose and my ear, too. It is all fixable, thank goddess. Anyway... these things we do in the heat of the moment, in the throws of anger, they last a long, long time. These are wounds that heal very, very slowly.
I really think that I have gotten myself to a good place. I think that allowing myself to be angry and sad about all of these things is good. I was never allowed to be emotional about any of it before. Either I was expected to be a grown up (at 4 years old) or I wouldn't allow myself to feel things. I was uncomfortably numb.
So, May 14th, they are going to hack up my nose. Hopefully it will stay mostly the same in appearance. I actually kinda like my nose. They are going to fix my septum and shave my turbinates. Then I should be able to breath normally again. The end of next month, I have my consult with the occuloplastics surgeon about my forehead/eyebrow surgery. They will make two small incisions in my hair line and inflate my forehead with saline solution. Once they do that, they will attach sutures to the back of my eyebrow and they will put titanium anchors into my skull. They will attach the sutures to the anchors and that should stop my eyebrow from falling into my eye. As far as my cochlea goes, that should be fixed through medication. It was shifted (probably from being smacked upside the head), but that cannot be fixed. However, there are three small water sacks in there and the middle one is f*cked up. Apparently this medication that I started taking will help make that function properly again. Then, maybe, I can hear normally.
So, I am going to document the whole process through pictures. I want to be able to see any changes clearly, if there are any. I also want the healing process documented. I plan on sending the pictures to my father. I want him to *see* the hurt he caused so many years later. I want him to know what he has done. I also want him to know that it is almost the exact same case with my mother. He right eye, ear, etc. Hers didn't start being affected until she was my age now, though. My face was f*cked from the get-go.
Oh well... I think I've rambled enough today. This blog is really poorly written, and I am sorry, but I am not going to edit it. This one is written just as it poured out.
luvs
binks
It's funny. I spent my whole life denying the shit that I went through as a kid. Now, let's get some things clear about this. I am not whining. I am just talking. My childhood wasn't fabulous, but it sure wasn't terrible either. I just forgot to deal with any of the bad shit until I was 30 years old. Up to that point, I just pretended that everything was honky dory.
I've spent the last two years working through some shit. I am learning how to like me. I am realizing that my self image is totally fuc*ed up and that I need to fix that. I don't need to see myself through rose-colored glasses, but I don't need to see myself through the fun-house mirror, either. It's funny, I had to get fat to realize that I wasn't fat. Now I just need to get back to not being fat again...
I went to shrinks, I talked with friends, I thought, and thought some more and more and more... you get the picture. I spent the last two years of my life processing the first 25ish of my life. It was hard work. It got the better of me a lot of the time. It made me cranky, cantankerous, and I often self-medicated myself into an oblivion. In the end, I got through it.
I am learning how to take care of myself. If you read the "broken" blog, you will understand where I am at mentally. So, I've been making appointments, seeing doctors and getting some things taken care of. Because I am worth it. I am slowly weaning my way off of the Effexor that I was on. It is hard. Shit, let me rephrase that. It sucks balls! I just really don't think I need it though. I think it was a band-aid that I used when I was looking for a quick fix cure to my brokenness.
So, I went to the doc yesterday. I had seen an otolaryngologist about a year ago and he was a total prick to me, so I never went back. This new one seems to be pretty nice, and he explained a lot to me.
When I saw the ophthalmologist last year, she told me that I would have to have surgery on my brow because of the damage done to my forehead by blunt trauma. She asked if my husband beat me. Of course he doesn't. So then she wanted to test me for Bells Palsy. Well, when I told her that I had been hit repeatedly upside the head, but it was just a long, long time ago. She told me that is why I needed the surgery on my forehead. Anyway, so it tore me up. I was so angry and so bitter with my father. I cried. I screamed. I got drunk. I got more angry. I called my gramma (his mother) and told her that she should tell him what he had done.
So, I keep digressing, I am sorry. Here's the thing: He f*cked up way more than just my eyebrow (my eyebrow is slowly falling over my eye). He f*cked up my nose and my ear, too. It is all fixable, thank goddess. Anyway... these things we do in the heat of the moment, in the throws of anger, they last a long, long time. These are wounds that heal very, very slowly.
I really think that I have gotten myself to a good place. I think that allowing myself to be angry and sad about all of these things is good. I was never allowed to be emotional about any of it before. Either I was expected to be a grown up (at 4 years old) or I wouldn't allow myself to feel things. I was uncomfortably numb.
So, May 14th, they are going to hack up my nose. Hopefully it will stay mostly the same in appearance. I actually kinda like my nose. They are going to fix my septum and shave my turbinates. Then I should be able to breath normally again. The end of next month, I have my consult with the occuloplastics surgeon about my forehead/eyebrow surgery. They will make two small incisions in my hair line and inflate my forehead with saline solution. Once they do that, they will attach sutures to the back of my eyebrow and they will put titanium anchors into my skull. They will attach the sutures to the anchors and that should stop my eyebrow from falling into my eye. As far as my cochlea goes, that should be fixed through medication. It was shifted (probably from being smacked upside the head), but that cannot be fixed. However, there are three small water sacks in there and the middle one is f*cked up. Apparently this medication that I started taking will help make that function properly again. Then, maybe, I can hear normally.
So, I am going to document the whole process through pictures. I want to be able to see any changes clearly, if there are any. I also want the healing process documented. I plan on sending the pictures to my father. I want him to *see* the hurt he caused so many years later. I want him to know what he has done. I also want him to know that it is almost the exact same case with my mother. He right eye, ear, etc. Hers didn't start being affected until she was my age now, though. My face was f*cked from the get-go.
Oh well... I think I've rambled enough today. This blog is really poorly written, and I am sorry, but I am not going to edit it. This one is written just as it poured out.
luvs
binks
Thursday, April 5
Holy Hormones, Batman!
Wow! We spent the last two and half days out in the dessert with 7 boys and a dog. Tom and I apparently had a momentary lapse in reason and asked 5 neighbor boys to go camping with us, our two boys and our dog.
We went to Agua Caliente in South East San Diego County. It is out in the middle of no man's land and has a small hot spring. They've piped this hot spring into two pools and built a camp ground around it.
If you've read Tom's blog, then this is a repeat, but... oh well...
hope you're all well,
loves,
bink
We went to Agua Caliente in South East San Diego County. It is out in the middle of no man's land and has a small hot spring. They've piped this hot spring into two pools and built a camp ground around it.
If you've read Tom's blog, then this is a repeat, but... oh well...
hope you're all well,
loves,
bink
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)