So, right after the hubby and I got back from our honeymoon, I read an article about the "Newlywed 10". This is the theory, similar to the "Freshman 15" college theory, that within the first six months to year of marriage, women tend to gain 10 lbs (or more). The reasoning behind this is that after marriage when both spouses are working, most of the social time they spend together revolves around food: eating dinner together, going for coffee/dessert, going out with friends for food/drinks, family gatherings, etc. Of course, all the wonderful food during the honeymoon doesn't particularly help either lol.
The other reasoning is that, before marriage, women tend to eat with each other, and feel bad if they get a large, fattening meal when their friend is getting a salad. But, when a woman sees her husband get a larger, more fattening meal, she doesn't feel as guilty about getting the large, fattening meal. Personally, I have noticed it's easier for me to eat a larger meal when I go out with Bryan than when I'm with others.
Upon reading the article, I thought "Hmm, that's interesting. I think I'll avoid that", closed the magazine, and went on about my business. I did fairly well, watching what I ate, and even had a workout routine for a while. Then, I stopped working out...I hadn't figured out that while the ellipticals I have access to hurt my knees, the exercise bike does not. And then the hurricane came, and I had nothing to do for two weeks but sit on my behind and eat. Long story short, I got on the scale this morning, about 4 1/2 months after W-day, and went "I weigh WHAT?!? Gah. I've proven that dadgum theory."
I hate doing that. DISproving theories is much more fun.
Now, the question is, what to do about it? Well, I have a PLAN! (Smart of me, right? The better PLAN! was not to gain the weight in the first place, but since I well and truly bungled THAT...) This last week I started a workout routine again, and shall continue this week. The plan for now is to ride the bike 30 mins a day, Mon-Fri. This last week I only rode Mon, Tues, and Thurs...I hadn't taken my shots the weekend before, so I was achier than normal, and starting the workout routine didn't exactly help. I also do a bit of an abdominal workout and, of course, am trying to eat better.
Anyway, on the the PLAN! I will continue the daily 30 mins on the bike plus abs this week. Plus, on Tues/Thurs I'm going to try to start some light weight lifting...arms on Tues, legs on Thurs. With the RA, I haven't been able to figure out a weight regimen that doesn't cause my elbows to lock or my knees stage a mutiny. So, this time, I'm going to start slowly, with the absolute minimum and hopefully be able to get some muscle tone back. Yes, that would be nice. I know not to expect to actually SEE any results in the mirror for 4-6 weeks, but I am hoping to see the scale numbers start to decrease a bit sooner.
So. To lay out the ugly part: as of this morning, I weigh 170 lbs. NOT what I'd call my ideal weight :-P. When hubby and I got married, I weighed 155-160 lbs(closer to the 160). My short-term goal is to get back down to my wedding weight. That means, if I lose 1/2 lb a week, I'll have lost the 10 lbs by March. Obviously, I'm hoping to do it a bit faster than that. It would be nice to lose 1 lb a week, which means I'll have lost the weight by Dec/Jan. That's a much happier thought.
My ultimate goal is to down to 145-150, or 150-155 with good muscle tone. Obviously, I've got a lot of work to do.
The question remains: Why am I posting all this on the internet? Well, I want some sort of accountability, I guess. I'm saving up for a gym membership, and hope to have a few appointments with a personal trainer to help with the weight lifting dilemma, but until I accomplish that, I'm on my own at the workout room here at our apartment complex. So, my goal is to track my progress, honestly, once a week. Since I'm starting on a Sunday, I'm going to try to update on Sundays. Whoever is reading this, y'all are my "accountability". Not that I expect any interaction...it's more the actual act of recording this journey in a place where others can bear witness that will hold me accountable. Or so I hope lol.
Anyways, I was just thinking....and deciding to do something tangible instead of simply a mental exercise.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Hurricanes Blow
No pun intended.
So Hurricane Ike hit the Galveston area (and thus the Houston area) two weeks ago as of this coming Saturday morning. Hubby and I were in a mandatory evac zone, so we went up to my parents' house (Dad has a generator, had boarded up the house, and they have a gas stove and water heater=cooked food and hot showers!). I left school early on Thursday (b/c for some reason my district thought it would be a great idea to only call school on Friday...stupidity), because of the whole mandatory evac thing, and headed home to help Bryan finish packing up the essentials and getting the apartment as secured as possible. Then, we loaded up the pups and everything important we could fit in my car (pics, important papers, etc) and left. Little did we know it would be a full week before we brought it all back. Really though we were among the fortunate.
The power was out until Tuesday/Wednesday at my parents house, and until Friday here at home. The neighbor's tree fell over my parents' fence, but that part of the fence held up...of course, the side fence blew down, but whatcha gonna do? There's already a replacement. Hubby and I went walking around the neighborhood after the storm, and saw more of the same: trees down, fences demolished. The neighborhood as a whole was lucky too: only a few houses had trees actually fall ON them. Our apartment was completely fine...well the complex's fence fell down, but our apartment was fine. Of course, when we got back we realized we had forgotten something very important:
We left the fish in the freezer.
Yep, the freezer that had no power for a week. Mmmm did our apartment smell GREAT! (please, please note the sarcasm)
So for the past week, we've been using coffee grinds to absorb the smell...actually works pretty well. The fish smell is gone, but now we're trying to get the slightly funky old-coffee-mixing-with cooked-meals smell gone. At least now we might be able to light the candle and get coffee-vanilla scent instead of fishy coffee or vanilla fish, both of which are deeply disturbing not to mention icky. Hubby started back to work on Monday (they're superbusy and he actually has to work all night tonite :-( ), and I went back today. Granted, today and tomorrow are "cleaning/planning days" for teachers, and the kids don't come back til Monday, but it is nice to get back into a routine. Oh! And I've gotten back into a workout routine this week! Mon, Tues, and today I rode the stationary bike at workload 5, over 100 rpms for 30 mins., and then did my crunch routines! It's nice to have that routine back into my overall routine.
Well, that's my update on life. I'd like to ask those of y'all who read this to keep the folks who lost everything in y'all's thoughts over the next months...the devastation down here is fairly overwhelming and extensive. Like I said, we were lucky, both here and at my parents' house. It's actually pretty sobering, seeing the footage of places we've been within the last year totally torn apart or even completely gone. Kemah is in shambles, Bolivar is more or less wiped out (thankfully our friend's parents' beach house is still standing, though noone has actually been down to see it in person), and there are still many, many people without power or a place to live. Places filled with memories--pleasant and otherwise--are now forever changed and that leaves me feeling disconcerted. All of the memories have made me who I am, and for that I mourn the loss of these places and the very physical connection to these memories that they embody. At the same time, with the unpleasant memories, a small part of me is glad those places will never look exactly as they did.
Don't misunderstand me: I hope for the quick rebuilding and healing of this entire area, so that people's lives may resume and new memories can be made. But that part of me feels relieved that there is no longer the exact physical connection with the negative memories, even as I mourn the physical connection with the positive memories.
Like I said...disconcerting.
I know I'm not the only one feeling disconcerted, and that my own inner queasiness will settle in time...mostly, I think, by accepting the conflict for what it is and acknowledging the validity of both feelings, even though the relief is undoubtedly a selfish relief. One thing I've learned, feelings can be many, many things, but they are all valid.
For those others who are feeling disconcerted, and who's imbalance arises from a deep pain and sense of loss, I hope for nothing more nor less than peace. I hope they find their balance again, and that their lives continue the journey towards healing and rebuilding. If anyone badly affected by Hurricane Ike ever reads this, you're in my thoughts and prayers.
On that note, I'm gonna go to bed! I get to go back to work tomorrow! And then to the Aggie game this weekend!
So Hurricane Ike hit the Galveston area (and thus the Houston area) two weeks ago as of this coming Saturday morning. Hubby and I were in a mandatory evac zone, so we went up to my parents' house (Dad has a generator, had boarded up the house, and they have a gas stove and water heater=cooked food and hot showers!). I left school early on Thursday (b/c for some reason my district thought it would be a great idea to only call school on Friday...stupidity), because of the whole mandatory evac thing, and headed home to help Bryan finish packing up the essentials and getting the apartment as secured as possible. Then, we loaded up the pups and everything important we could fit in my car (pics, important papers, etc) and left. Little did we know it would be a full week before we brought it all back. Really though we were among the fortunate.
The power was out until Tuesday/Wednesday at my parents house, and until Friday here at home. The neighbor's tree fell over my parents' fence, but that part of the fence held up...of course, the side fence blew down, but whatcha gonna do? There's already a replacement. Hubby and I went walking around the neighborhood after the storm, and saw more of the same: trees down, fences demolished. The neighborhood as a whole was lucky too: only a few houses had trees actually fall ON them. Our apartment was completely fine...well the complex's fence fell down, but our apartment was fine. Of course, when we got back we realized we had forgotten something very important:
We left the fish in the freezer.
Yep, the freezer that had no power for a week. Mmmm did our apartment smell GREAT! (please, please note the sarcasm)
So for the past week, we've been using coffee grinds to absorb the smell...actually works pretty well. The fish smell is gone, but now we're trying to get the slightly funky old-coffee-mixing-with cooked-meals smell gone. At least now we might be able to light the candle and get coffee-vanilla scent instead of fishy coffee or vanilla fish, both of which are deeply disturbing not to mention icky. Hubby started back to work on Monday (they're superbusy and he actually has to work all night tonite :-( ), and I went back today. Granted, today and tomorrow are "cleaning/planning days" for teachers, and the kids don't come back til Monday, but it is nice to get back into a routine. Oh! And I've gotten back into a workout routine this week! Mon, Tues, and today I rode the stationary bike at workload 5, over 100 rpms for 30 mins., and then did my crunch routines! It's nice to have that routine back into my overall routine.
Well, that's my update on life. I'd like to ask those of y'all who read this to keep the folks who lost everything in y'all's thoughts over the next months...the devastation down here is fairly overwhelming and extensive. Like I said, we were lucky, both here and at my parents' house. It's actually pretty sobering, seeing the footage of places we've been within the last year totally torn apart or even completely gone. Kemah is in shambles, Bolivar is more or less wiped out (thankfully our friend's parents' beach house is still standing, though noone has actually been down to see it in person), and there are still many, many people without power or a place to live. Places filled with memories--pleasant and otherwise--are now forever changed and that leaves me feeling disconcerted. All of the memories have made me who I am, and for that I mourn the loss of these places and the very physical connection to these memories that they embody. At the same time, with the unpleasant memories, a small part of me is glad those places will never look exactly as they did.
Don't misunderstand me: I hope for the quick rebuilding and healing of this entire area, so that people's lives may resume and new memories can be made. But that part of me feels relieved that there is no longer the exact physical connection with the negative memories, even as I mourn the physical connection with the positive memories.
Like I said...disconcerting.
I know I'm not the only one feeling disconcerted, and that my own inner queasiness will settle in time...mostly, I think, by accepting the conflict for what it is and acknowledging the validity of both feelings, even though the relief is undoubtedly a selfish relief. One thing I've learned, feelings can be many, many things, but they are all valid.
For those others who are feeling disconcerted, and who's imbalance arises from a deep pain and sense of loss, I hope for nothing more nor less than peace. I hope they find their balance again, and that their lives continue the journey towards healing and rebuilding. If anyone badly affected by Hurricane Ike ever reads this, you're in my thoughts and prayers.
On that note, I'm gonna go to bed! I get to go back to work tomorrow! And then to the Aggie game this weekend!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Still Alive!
I'm still alive I promise! I started teaching school two and a half weeks ago, and the majority of my time has been wrapped up in lesson plans, grading papers, and thinking of new ways to wrangle the attention of 150ish high school freshmen and sophomores. It's been exciting, that's for sure! Basically this is my day:
Up at 5:30 am. Get dressed, put on makeup and jewelry. Make lunch for me and for the hubby. Reset alarm clock for hubby, kiss hubby, and leave by 6-6:10 am.
Drive to school. Get to school at 6:20-6:30 am depending on traffic and what time I left home.
Scramble to make sure everything is ready for students/stand at my duty station (on wednesdays).
Spend 1st period observing the floating teacher in my room/hurriedly getting done what I couldn't get done before school.
2nd&3rd periods: teach the lesson, give assignments, review assignments.
4th period: the school's news programs come on, and nothing much gets done for the first 20 mins. Then kids go to lunch, and I have 20 mins to scarf food, go to the bathroom, and either relax or (more often) work on things STILL not done from this morning. Kids come back:teach, assign, explain, review.
5th&7th periods: Repeat. And TRY to get them to focus and listen.
6th period: My "free period" as one kid called it today: during which I go to staff development/grade papers/take and pick up copies/check my box/meet with my mentor/meet with parents if necessary/and hope that my feet are only hurting because I've been on the ALL DAMN DAY and not because the RA is going to flare.
After school, I leave anywhere from 3:30 to 4:30, depending on if there's a meeting/kids need tutoring (on tuesdays and thursdays mostly)/Spanish Club meeting (wednesdays)/how long it takes me to input attendance, grade stuff, and get the room ready for the next day.
I get home between 4 and 5, depending on when I left and how bad the traffic was at that point. I take the dogs out, figure out when hubby will be home, and SIT THE HELL DOWN!!! YAY! Then, I read for a bit (if I'm lucky), the hubby gets home and we figure out dinner, and I grade papers. I also try to clean the place up a bit, do laundry, take out the trash, clean up the kitchen, and straighten the bedroom (damn beagle chewed a hole in our BRAND NEW comforter this morning...grrr) and bathroom.
9pm roles around and I get in the shower. Out of the shower, dry the hair, go to bed by hopefully 9:30 pm, more often 10 or 10:30.
Repeat.
So yeah, it's been busy. Thank God above for the weekends...though I find it sad that 9am is now "sleeping in" for me....so does the hubby lol. This last weekend was wonderful: we relaxed, went on a motorcycle ride, had dinner with friends, and spent Sunday with my in-laws. There was a bit of a stressout over budget stuff, and where to find money to play with, and my high potassium reading, but everything has been worked out so far...I find the results of the re-blood test tomorrow.
In other words, life is INCREDIBLY hectic, and I'm exhausted...but life is also very, very good at the moment! I really do enjoy the TEACHING part of being a teacher...it is all the "other" stuff that is wearisome. The hubby has been wonderful helping me adjust to the transition (witness this morning when he woke me up b/c the alarm apparently didn't) and I sure do love that man :-). Anyway, I've got about 30 mins before showertime...so I'm gonna go play with the pups!
Hasta luego!
Up at 5:30 am. Get dressed, put on makeup and jewelry. Make lunch for me and for the hubby. Reset alarm clock for hubby, kiss hubby, and leave by 6-6:10 am.
Drive to school. Get to school at 6:20-6:30 am depending on traffic and what time I left home.
Scramble to make sure everything is ready for students/stand at my duty station (on wednesdays).
Spend 1st period observing the floating teacher in my room/hurriedly getting done what I couldn't get done before school.
2nd&3rd periods: teach the lesson, give assignments, review assignments.
4th period: the school's news programs come on, and nothing much gets done for the first 20 mins. Then kids go to lunch, and I have 20 mins to scarf food, go to the bathroom, and either relax or (more often) work on things STILL not done from this morning. Kids come back:teach, assign, explain, review.
5th&7th periods: Repeat. And TRY to get them to focus and listen.
6th period: My "free period" as one kid called it today: during which I go to staff development/grade papers/take and pick up copies/check my box/meet with my mentor/meet with parents if necessary/and hope that my feet are only hurting because I've been on the ALL DAMN DAY and not because the RA is going to flare.
After school, I leave anywhere from 3:30 to 4:30, depending on if there's a meeting/kids need tutoring (on tuesdays and thursdays mostly)/Spanish Club meeting (wednesdays)/how long it takes me to input attendance, grade stuff, and get the room ready for the next day.
I get home between 4 and 5, depending on when I left and how bad the traffic was at that point. I take the dogs out, figure out when hubby will be home, and SIT THE HELL DOWN!!! YAY! Then, I read for a bit (if I'm lucky), the hubby gets home and we figure out dinner, and I grade papers. I also try to clean the place up a bit, do laundry, take out the trash, clean up the kitchen, and straighten the bedroom (damn beagle chewed a hole in our BRAND NEW comforter this morning...grrr) and bathroom.
9pm roles around and I get in the shower. Out of the shower, dry the hair, go to bed by hopefully 9:30 pm, more often 10 or 10:30.
Repeat.
So yeah, it's been busy. Thank God above for the weekends...though I find it sad that 9am is now "sleeping in" for me....so does the hubby lol. This last weekend was wonderful: we relaxed, went on a motorcycle ride, had dinner with friends, and spent Sunday with my in-laws. There was a bit of a stressout over budget stuff, and where to find money to play with, and my high potassium reading, but everything has been worked out so far...I find the results of the re-blood test tomorrow.
In other words, life is INCREDIBLY hectic, and I'm exhausted...but life is also very, very good at the moment! I really do enjoy the TEACHING part of being a teacher...it is all the "other" stuff that is wearisome. The hubby has been wonderful helping me adjust to the transition (witness this morning when he woke me up b/c the alarm apparently didn't) and I sure do love that man :-). Anyway, I've got about 30 mins before showertime...so I'm gonna go play with the pups!
Hasta luego!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Those Who Can, Do. Those Who Can't, Teach.
I HATE this quote! I'm going to be a teacher, but I can DO a lot of things. I'm good at customer service, I'm good at keeping ledgers (or at least, I am at keeping my own), I'm good at being organized (when I have to be), I'm good at communicating in English OR Spanish. There are a lot of different things I could do. But I CHOOSE to be a teacher. Or rather, I will, starting tomorrow, which is my first day of training--it's a curriculum class for new teachers in the district's Languages Other Than English Department (LOTE Dept.).
This quote kinda pisses me off in that it undermines the abilities of teachers. And that some TEACHERS actually buy into it! I know not many are mentally deficient enough to actually buy into that load of dung, but there are some that are...some who think "oh, you chose to ONLY be a teacher...you must not have been good at anything else". Which is malarkey. Plain and simple. Teachers are everything from skilled organizers to disciplinarians to amateur psychologists to motivators to subject-masters, the list goes on. That's because you have 30-35 (average) relative novices of varying ages and ability levels and ONE you. Ask any other professional to do this, and they'd look at you like you were crazy. Especially because all of the age groups are 18 years old and under. For me, make that number 30-35 students in each of five 45 minute periods, equaling 150 to 175 students in my entire day. Like I said, ask any other professional--and yes, teachers are degreed and trained professionals--to undertake such a task (especially for the salary a teacher receives!) and they would laugh at you.
The fact is, teachers aren't in it for the recognition or the money. We couldn't be. I've watched my mom and her sisters, my grandmother and her sisters, serve as teachers...we get some of the most thankless jobs out there. That said, we're in it to help kids learn, and not just to learn our subject matter, but to learn how to grow into the type of person they want to be. We try to teach them, in-between state-mandated lesson goals, how to think critically, to develop sympathy and understanding for those around them regardless of and differences, to realize their actions have direct and indirect consequences for themselves and others, to have self-confidence, and many, many more life lessons. All in the space of time we're allotted.
In reflecting on all of this over the past few days, I realized something about myself. I have no real AMBITION, but I have a hell of a lot of DRIVE. And I realized what I hadn't before--though admittedly I should have long ago. These are two very different things. I don't care about the low salary. Sure, it's inconvenient and annoying at times, but if it really irked me, I'd find a different job. I don't care that I'm not in charge of a department or other group of people--1) I'm a first year teacher, and 2) I don't think I ever really want to be. The only "in charge" position I could ever see me liking is curriculum specialist. And that's more over the curriculum, not people. I would be perfectly content to spend the remainder of my teaching career as a high school Spanish I teacher. So, no ambition.
Oh, but drive! I desperately want to be the best teacher that I can. I'm reading books on the subject, asking advice, trying to hack out my classroom procedures, and am completely psyched to go to my training. I want to succeed in helping my students to succeed. I don't want to let them, my coworkers, or myself down. If I fail, it's not just myself that suffers--it's potentially 150-175 kids that go down with me...and that's an enormous responsibility. It's hard waiting for training to start, waiting for people to return my emails so that I have the information I need to start making use of the district's resources. I am so nervous and excited that I'm having a hard time focusing on anything else...heck, I'm even DREAMING about teaching!!! Right now, I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. I know that feeling will let up tomorrow, once I've actually had the opportunity to talk with other teachers and ask for their advice and help.
In short, I have drive without ambition. You know, I've actually heard this talked about. It's always with an edge of pity or concern. I suppose that's because, for most in our society, being your best means getting to the highest position you can, or making the most money. To do that requires drive AND ambition. So when someone has ambition-less drive, they are somehow seen as handicapped in their search for being the best. Well, I disagree. My definition of "my best" does not line up with society's definition. I want to help people, I want to give people an appreciation for the Spanish language and the various cultures that speak it, and I want to make a difference in at least a few lives (I know I won't make a difference in every student's life...but if I can reach at least one or two a semester, then I'll be happy). So, my definition of "my best" is fulfilling that desire. It won't elevate me in position or pay, but it will (I hope) enable me to become the best me that I can. In a way, that is ambition...but in a very different light, a light for which most people don't bother looking.
So I will endeavor to employ my drive in pursuit of these goals, these ambitions, and always remember that my abilities are many, regardless of what some stupid platitude may have to say.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
This quote kinda pisses me off in that it undermines the abilities of teachers. And that some TEACHERS actually buy into it! I know not many are mentally deficient enough to actually buy into that load of dung, but there are some that are...some who think "oh, you chose to ONLY be a teacher...you must not have been good at anything else". Which is malarkey. Plain and simple. Teachers are everything from skilled organizers to disciplinarians to amateur psychologists to motivators to subject-masters, the list goes on. That's because you have 30-35 (average) relative novices of varying ages and ability levels and ONE you. Ask any other professional to do this, and they'd look at you like you were crazy. Especially because all of the age groups are 18 years old and under. For me, make that number 30-35 students in each of five 45 minute periods, equaling 150 to 175 students in my entire day. Like I said, ask any other professional--and yes, teachers are degreed and trained professionals--to undertake such a task (especially for the salary a teacher receives!) and they would laugh at you.
The fact is, teachers aren't in it for the recognition or the money. We couldn't be. I've watched my mom and her sisters, my grandmother and her sisters, serve as teachers...we get some of the most thankless jobs out there. That said, we're in it to help kids learn, and not just to learn our subject matter, but to learn how to grow into the type of person they want to be. We try to teach them, in-between state-mandated lesson goals, how to think critically, to develop sympathy and understanding for those around them regardless of and differences, to realize their actions have direct and indirect consequences for themselves and others, to have self-confidence, and many, many more life lessons. All in the space of time we're allotted.
In reflecting on all of this over the past few days, I realized something about myself. I have no real AMBITION, but I have a hell of a lot of DRIVE. And I realized what I hadn't before--though admittedly I should have long ago. These are two very different things. I don't care about the low salary. Sure, it's inconvenient and annoying at times, but if it really irked me, I'd find a different job. I don't care that I'm not in charge of a department or other group of people--1) I'm a first year teacher, and 2) I don't think I ever really want to be. The only "in charge" position I could ever see me liking is curriculum specialist. And that's more over the curriculum, not people. I would be perfectly content to spend the remainder of my teaching career as a high school Spanish I teacher. So, no ambition.
Oh, but drive! I desperately want to be the best teacher that I can. I'm reading books on the subject, asking advice, trying to hack out my classroom procedures, and am completely psyched to go to my training. I want to succeed in helping my students to succeed. I don't want to let them, my coworkers, or myself down. If I fail, it's not just myself that suffers--it's potentially 150-175 kids that go down with me...and that's an enormous responsibility. It's hard waiting for training to start, waiting for people to return my emails so that I have the information I need to start making use of the district's resources. I am so nervous and excited that I'm having a hard time focusing on anything else...heck, I'm even DREAMING about teaching!!! Right now, I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. I know that feeling will let up tomorrow, once I've actually had the opportunity to talk with other teachers and ask for their advice and help.
In short, I have drive without ambition. You know, I've actually heard this talked about. It's always with an edge of pity or concern. I suppose that's because, for most in our society, being your best means getting to the highest position you can, or making the most money. To do that requires drive AND ambition. So when someone has ambition-less drive, they are somehow seen as handicapped in their search for being the best. Well, I disagree. My definition of "my best" does not line up with society's definition. I want to help people, I want to give people an appreciation for the Spanish language and the various cultures that speak it, and I want to make a difference in at least a few lives (I know I won't make a difference in every student's life...but if I can reach at least one or two a semester, then I'll be happy). So, my definition of "my best" is fulfilling that desire. It won't elevate me in position or pay, but it will (I hope) enable me to become the best me that I can. In a way, that is ambition...but in a very different light, a light for which most people don't bother looking.
So I will endeavor to employ my drive in pursuit of these goals, these ambitions, and always remember that my abilities are many, regardless of what some stupid platitude may have to say.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
A Nice Ramble
I just feel like typing what is crossing my mind in this very moment. It's a beautiful Saturday, even if it is typically-Texas August hot outside. I have the blinds open and the sun is shining through...the trees just beyond our porch are swaying in a gentle breeze. I'm lounging on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, watching Sydney White, with one dog curled up at my hip and the other sprawled out at my feet chewing on her bone. My wonderful husband is napping in our bedroom, with some jazz music playing on his computer. I can hear it as it filters through the walls, and though it adds a quirky counterpoint to my movie, it perfectly accentuates the peaceful atmosphere of our apartment. I love the weekend.
Tonight one of our friends is coming over for dinner, so I'll start cooking in about another hour. His wife-to-be will move down in another month, and I'm hoping we will become good friends. Another friend is back in town now, and we've already gotten lunch. It was wonderful! I finished my graduate work this last week, and start work in another two. Students come in three weeks. Life is really starting to pick up here.
On that note, I think I'm going to go read my copy the Tao Teh Ching. The poetry of Lao Tzu's teachings really is amazing, and the principles of Taoism are very much centered on being aligned with the Tao, and thus finding inner peace. Now, interpret the Tao to be what you will, but I can't think of a better read for a day like today. I think I'm going to try to make a sort of study of the Tao Teh Ching to try and truly understand the core of Taoist philosophy. I might start meditating again...I do miss having that time each day where I empty my mind of everything but one thought, and then just hold that thought in my mental hands. After my workout will probably be the best time...that way both my body and mind will be fit.
I have such an abiding feeling of peace and happiness right now...it really is amazing. It's one of those feelings that you can really get lost in...your mind can successfully fill with nothing but a sense of peace and a sense of how blessed is your life.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
Tonight one of our friends is coming over for dinner, so I'll start cooking in about another hour. His wife-to-be will move down in another month, and I'm hoping we will become good friends. Another friend is back in town now, and we've already gotten lunch. It was wonderful! I finished my graduate work this last week, and start work in another two. Students come in three weeks. Life is really starting to pick up here.
On that note, I think I'm going to go read my copy the Tao Teh Ching. The poetry of Lao Tzu's teachings really is amazing, and the principles of Taoism are very much centered on being aligned with the Tao, and thus finding inner peace. Now, interpret the Tao to be what you will, but I can't think of a better read for a day like today. I think I'm going to try to make a sort of study of the Tao Teh Ching to try and truly understand the core of Taoist philosophy. I might start meditating again...I do miss having that time each day where I empty my mind of everything but one thought, and then just hold that thought in my mental hands. After my workout will probably be the best time...that way both my body and mind will be fit.
I have such an abiding feeling of peace and happiness right now...it really is amazing. It's one of those feelings that you can really get lost in...your mind can successfully fill with nothing but a sense of peace and a sense of how blessed is your life.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Shooting Up
No, not like THAT. Tonight's shot night. I know I mentioned in another post that I have health issues. Well, to be specific, I have A health issue: rheumatoid arthritis (RA). I was diagnosed one month short of two years ago. It's almost my anniversary lol. RA is an autoimmune disorder in which the immune system goes a bit nuts and attacks the joints and the tissues around the joints, primarily. No known cause, no known cure. Lol, my body sure can pick 'em huh? My causal theory is genetic predisposition (which come to find out there is...waaay back in my family tree) triggered by some sort of physical stress (for me, losing 60 lbs in 3 mths MIGHT have done the trick...silly emotional turmoil affecting the physical!) If left untreated, RA can progress to a system-wide chronic inflammatory disorder. Lucky for me, I'm getting great treatments! Two of which are injectable in form: Enbrel and methotrexate. The combination of these wonderful drugs is what has me in remission.
Enbrel is what they call a biologic: it targets a specific response of my immune system and shuts it down. Which means it's easier for me to catch colds and stuff, supposedly. I haven't had any issue with it yet (knock on wood), but I try to be careful anyway. Methotrexate is actually a drug they use in chemotherapy with cancer patients. I take a much MUCH lower dose than that, but the drug is the same.
To be clear, remission in RA does not mean the disease goes away...just that it is successfully managed so as to cause the least amount of pain/discomfort. My joints are still stiff for 5-10 minutes in the morning, and my elbows will never be the same...especially the right one, which doesn't straighten all the way anymore. Good thing I'm tall...I can still reach things on high shelves! Lol. My ankles and my knees don't do very well with high impact...walking's ok, but for exercise I use a stationary bike: absolute lowest impact of any cardio machine I've found yet! All in all, there are so many diseases that could be and are a load worse than the one I've got. Yes, it's still a pain in the ass, and yes sometimes it still frustrates the hell out of me when I can't do something I used to be able to do...but the other day I opened a new jar of jelly all by myself, and the week before that, a new jar of pickles! When at one point I couldn't even pull socks on my feet because it hurt both my feet and my hands/wrists too badly, every accomplishment is an accomplishment, no matter how small, and no matter how long I've been in remission. At least, that's what I have to keep reminding myself when I start getting truly frustrated and, yes, occasionally depressed about the whole thing. But that doesn't happen as often as it did! I'm slowly coming to terms with my new limits...but that doesn't mean I'm giving in! I still push the envelope, so to speak, and sometimes that works out fine, and other times I have a flare.
A flare means the remission is over, temporarily. Then I do whatever I can to undo the reason for the flair--take it easy for a day, relieve some stress, cut salt waaay down in my diet, use heat packs, whatever! Then the medicine kicks back in and does its job.
Which brings me back to the prompt for this blog. Tonight is shot night. I have a sure-click (think like an epi-pen) of Enbrel, and a syringe and vial of methotrexate. The Enbrel I push a button and endure while it dispenses the medicine into my leg with a highly painful burning sensation. Four deep, slow breaths, and generally it's over. Then I get to measure out the methotrexate into the syringe and inject it into my leg. I HATE that part. I will never understand how people can shoot up for recreational drug use...the action of sticking a needle into your own flesh is sooo counterintuitive that even now, after almost a full year of this medication, I still take AT LEAST 5 counts of 1-2-3 to inject. Gah. My stomach's always in knots for the hour that I let the Enbrel reach room temp (it has to be kept refrigerated), not because I'm afraid of the shots, but because I know they're going to hurt and there's not a damn thing I can do. Then comes the day or two of low-level nausea and bone-deep weariness. I attribute the nausea to the methotrexate, and the weariness to the Enbrel...but I can't tell for sure. I take them both on the same night, at the recommendation of my rheumatologist, to get it all over with on the same day. The positive thing is when we decide to have a kid I have to go off all of my medication...which means any nausea then could be a pregnancy sign! Lol. Oh, and RA goes into remission during pregnancy, though it often comes back worse after the baby's born...but that's ok...we're gonna risk it at least once!
Anyway, all of that said, these drugs truly are wonderful. Within 2 months of starting Enbrel (almost a year and a half ago) I could walk normally, put on my socks and shoes by myself, and handle buttons with ease! After 3 months on the methotrexate (it took a bit longer to kick in) I was just about up to the level of remission I'm in now! Which is to say, the disease is still there, but I can function pretty much normally. Granted, I'll never be able to work out like I did in high school again--with my elbows, lifting weights is problematic and I'll be hard-pressed to ever do a push-up again, and my knees and ankles pretty much rule out bleachers and even regular running. But that won't keep me from living my life to the fullest, getting back in shape (I am DETERMINED!!! lol), and being the best me I can be! As corny as that last sounds, I am determined to find out what that means, on all levels--because that, friends, is self-knowledge.
Throughout this whole process, my family has been supersupportive and loving. However, noone has done quite as much for me as my husband. He was the one to help me put on socks and shoes the holiday season after I got diagnosed. He pushes me when I'm giving in too easily--physically and emotionally--and holds me when I've done all I can, and when it all gets to be just that much too much. He has helped me see all the ways in which I can still be useful, helped me find my new definition of useful, and just basically has been so all-around wonderful with all of this that I don't know how I would have gotten through it without him. I'd have gotten through, but the journey would have been much more hellish. I sure do love that man! :-)
On that uplifting and positive note, it's time for me to go "shoot up". I realize this post was not quite in the same vein as my other just thinking posts, but it's what was on my mind tonight. Nor should this blog be read as a definitive definition or description of RA...that's why I included the link to the Arthritis Center's Disease Center RA page ;-). This is just what was running through my mind tonight.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
Enbrel is what they call a biologic: it targets a specific response of my immune system and shuts it down. Which means it's easier for me to catch colds and stuff, supposedly. I haven't had any issue with it yet (knock on wood), but I try to be careful anyway. Methotrexate is actually a drug they use in chemotherapy with cancer patients. I take a much MUCH lower dose than that, but the drug is the same.
To be clear, remission in RA does not mean the disease goes away...just that it is successfully managed so as to cause the least amount of pain/discomfort. My joints are still stiff for 5-10 minutes in the morning, and my elbows will never be the same...especially the right one, which doesn't straighten all the way anymore. Good thing I'm tall...I can still reach things on high shelves! Lol. My ankles and my knees don't do very well with high impact...walking's ok, but for exercise I use a stationary bike: absolute lowest impact of any cardio machine I've found yet! All in all, there are so many diseases that could be and are a load worse than the one I've got. Yes, it's still a pain in the ass, and yes sometimes it still frustrates the hell out of me when I can't do something I used to be able to do...but the other day I opened a new jar of jelly all by myself, and the week before that, a new jar of pickles! When at one point I couldn't even pull socks on my feet because it hurt both my feet and my hands/wrists too badly, every accomplishment is an accomplishment, no matter how small, and no matter how long I've been in remission. At least, that's what I have to keep reminding myself when I start getting truly frustrated and, yes, occasionally depressed about the whole thing. But that doesn't happen as often as it did! I'm slowly coming to terms with my new limits...but that doesn't mean I'm giving in! I still push the envelope, so to speak, and sometimes that works out fine, and other times I have a flare.
A flare means the remission is over, temporarily. Then I do whatever I can to undo the reason for the flair--take it easy for a day, relieve some stress, cut salt waaay down in my diet, use heat packs, whatever! Then the medicine kicks back in and does its job.
Which brings me back to the prompt for this blog. Tonight is shot night. I have a sure-click (think like an epi-pen) of Enbrel, and a syringe and vial of methotrexate. The Enbrel I push a button and endure while it dispenses the medicine into my leg with a highly painful burning sensation. Four deep, slow breaths, and generally it's over. Then I get to measure out the methotrexate into the syringe and inject it into my leg. I HATE that part. I will never understand how people can shoot up for recreational drug use...the action of sticking a needle into your own flesh is sooo counterintuitive that even now, after almost a full year of this medication, I still take AT LEAST 5 counts of 1-2-3 to inject. Gah. My stomach's always in knots for the hour that I let the Enbrel reach room temp (it has to be kept refrigerated), not because I'm afraid of the shots, but because I know they're going to hurt and there's not a damn thing I can do. Then comes the day or two of low-level nausea and bone-deep weariness. I attribute the nausea to the methotrexate, and the weariness to the Enbrel...but I can't tell for sure. I take them both on the same night, at the recommendation of my rheumatologist, to get it all over with on the same day. The positive thing is when we decide to have a kid I have to go off all of my medication...which means any nausea then could be a pregnancy sign! Lol. Oh, and RA goes into remission during pregnancy, though it often comes back worse after the baby's born...but that's ok...we're gonna risk it at least once!
Anyway, all of that said, these drugs truly are wonderful. Within 2 months of starting Enbrel (almost a year and a half ago) I could walk normally, put on my socks and shoes by myself, and handle buttons with ease! After 3 months on the methotrexate (it took a bit longer to kick in) I was just about up to the level of remission I'm in now! Which is to say, the disease is still there, but I can function pretty much normally. Granted, I'll never be able to work out like I did in high school again--with my elbows, lifting weights is problematic and I'll be hard-pressed to ever do a push-up again, and my knees and ankles pretty much rule out bleachers and even regular running. But that won't keep me from living my life to the fullest, getting back in shape (I am DETERMINED!!! lol), and being the best me I can be! As corny as that last sounds, I am determined to find out what that means, on all levels--because that, friends, is self-knowledge.
Throughout this whole process, my family has been supersupportive and loving. However, noone has done quite as much for me as my husband. He was the one to help me put on socks and shoes the holiday season after I got diagnosed. He pushes me when I'm giving in too easily--physically and emotionally--and holds me when I've done all I can, and when it all gets to be just that much too much. He has helped me see all the ways in which I can still be useful, helped me find my new definition of useful, and just basically has been so all-around wonderful with all of this that I don't know how I would have gotten through it without him. I'd have gotten through, but the journey would have been much more hellish. I sure do love that man! :-)
On that uplifting and positive note, it's time for me to go "shoot up". I realize this post was not quite in the same vein as my other just thinking posts, but it's what was on my mind tonight. Nor should this blog be read as a definitive definition or description of RA...that's why I included the link to the Arthritis Center's Disease Center RA page ;-). This is just what was running through my mind tonight.
Anyways, I was just thinking.
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Age of Unbelieving
AMC is showing Bedknobs and Broomsticks tonite. I loved this movie when I was a kid, and watching it now, I realize how good it really is! There's a lot of history, some mythology, and all around fun all thrown together. The animation reminds me a GREAT deal of the Jungle Book and Robin Hood...which is one of my FAVORITE movies of all time. There was one point in particular in Bedknobs and Broomsticks that made me start thinking.
There's a song, towards the beginning of the movie, that talks about the Age of Unbelieving. For some reason, that struck a cord with me. In today's world, children are encouraged to grow up (in my opinion) way too soon. Their imaginary friends are discouraged, their daydreams torn down, and their creativity put into boxes that are "acceptable". I think this is a shame. Granted, the Age of Unbelieving comes to each child at a different point. But why the insistence on it coming soon?
I remember believing with all my heart that all I had to do was stumble across the right wardrobe, hidden door, secret room, etc., and I would be transported to another world. I would make plans as to what I would do once I found myself there...how I would blend in, who I would talk to, what my course of action would be, and the like. I also never doubted the existence of dragons, fairies, magic, talking animals, or mental abilities (telepathy, telekinesis, and so forth). I listened to fairy tales with the utmost attention and intensity. When I could read, I devoured science fiction and fantasy stories, the one that finally engulfed me (and does to this day) the Valdemar series by Mercedes Lackey.
Of course, with time, I reached the Age of Unbelieving. Except, I didn't. I realized that the fantastical things I read about were confined to the pages of my books and to the realm of my imagination, but part of me to this day will not give up on their existence. In the back of my mind, beyond logic and education, I still believe in dragons, magic, and all the rest. How can I not? The world would be a much less satisfying and mysterious place, if therein did not exist magic and its creatures! And so, though I'm way past the Age of Unbelieving, I choose to believe.
Yes, I know they're not real. But why can't they be? At least in the realm of belief. After all, belief doesn't always reflect reality. So, why should children be discouraged from believing? Eventually they'll reach the Age of Unbelieving, and realize their daydreams aren't real in the traditional sense. That the dragons, fairies, magic, other worlds, all of it, exist only in their heads. But, in the incredibly potent and apt words of Dumbledore (via J.K. Rowling), "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry (substitute your name for Harry's), but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
Anyways, I was just thinking.
***Note: I realize there might be some confusion regarding my "Dumbledore via J.K. Rowling". If you see the character as the product of the author, then technically it should be J.K. Rowling via Dumbledore. However, if you see the author as giving life to a character that was simply waiting for their pen stroke, then truly the author is the medium through which the character's words are delivered. Guess which point of view I ascribe to? :-)***
There's a song, towards the beginning of the movie, that talks about the Age of Unbelieving. For some reason, that struck a cord with me. In today's world, children are encouraged to grow up (in my opinion) way too soon. Their imaginary friends are discouraged, their daydreams torn down, and their creativity put into boxes that are "acceptable". I think this is a shame. Granted, the Age of Unbelieving comes to each child at a different point. But why the insistence on it coming soon?
I remember believing with all my heart that all I had to do was stumble across the right wardrobe, hidden door, secret room, etc., and I would be transported to another world. I would make plans as to what I would do once I found myself there...how I would blend in, who I would talk to, what my course of action would be, and the like. I also never doubted the existence of dragons, fairies, magic, talking animals, or mental abilities (telepathy, telekinesis, and so forth). I listened to fairy tales with the utmost attention and intensity. When I could read, I devoured science fiction and fantasy stories, the one that finally engulfed me (and does to this day) the Valdemar series by Mercedes Lackey.
Of course, with time, I reached the Age of Unbelieving. Except, I didn't. I realized that the fantastical things I read about were confined to the pages of my books and to the realm of my imagination, but part of me to this day will not give up on their existence. In the back of my mind, beyond logic and education, I still believe in dragons, magic, and all the rest. How can I not? The world would be a much less satisfying and mysterious place, if therein did not exist magic and its creatures! And so, though I'm way past the Age of Unbelieving, I choose to believe.
Yes, I know they're not real. But why can't they be? At least in the realm of belief. After all, belief doesn't always reflect reality. So, why should children be discouraged from believing? Eventually they'll reach the Age of Unbelieving, and realize their daydreams aren't real in the traditional sense. That the dragons, fairies, magic, other worlds, all of it, exist only in their heads. But, in the incredibly potent and apt words of Dumbledore (via J.K. Rowling), "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry (substitute your name for Harry's), but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
Anyways, I was just thinking.
***Note: I realize there might be some confusion regarding my "Dumbledore via J.K. Rowling". If you see the character as the product of the author, then technically it should be J.K. Rowling via Dumbledore. However, if you see the author as giving life to a character that was simply waiting for their pen stroke, then truly the author is the medium through which the character's words are delivered. Guess which point of view I ascribe to? :-)***
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