The movies I have seen lately have really given me some new fav songs to love. I think I may need to buy stock in itunes or Amazon music or some shit.
Hold Tight by Dave Dee, Dosy, Beaky, Mick & Tich (from Death Proof)
Only You by Josh Radin (from Henry Poole is Here & City of Angels)
Take it from Me by The Weepies (from The Cake Eaters)
The Love You Save by Joe Tex (from Death Proof)
And my absolute fav, Down in Mexico, which I could (and have) listen to over and over and over and.....RAWR.
8.31.2009
8.28.2009
Friday Filler
You still have time to get in on the "When Pills Aren't Enough" Sessions! Send me your rant & a link to your blog by Sunday, August 30th. If you don't want in on this session, but want to read everyone's rants, come back here on Monday, and I will have a list of the participating blogs, which go up Tuesday, September 1st.
Also! Feel free to grab the button up there & put it on your blog.
*******
My shoes are featured on Jodifur's blog today. If you don't read her, you totally should. Also? Send her your sexy mama shoes & she will post them on a Friday.
*******
My dear friend Steph had her baby boy yesterday morning, bright and early. We are going to visit them this evening, and I cannot.wait. Baby fever will be in full swing when I hold that little bundle (he's so cute)!!
Happy Friday!!!
8.27.2009
My paper heart
The first time I remember that it happened, I was at a friend's house. It was the beginning of the summer; I was going to be a freshman in high school in a couple of months. It was mid-morning, and several of us were debating on going swimming or lying on the floor under the ceiling fan all afternoon.
I got up off the couch, and I got light-headed. Tunnel-vision set in, combined with some stars. Vision was restored, but there was this tightness in my throat, like I had just watched a sappy chick flick. It didn't go away.
It's hard to really describe the span of feelings, symptoms, emotions. They all seemed to meld together, into one big feeling of "Oh, no, not again" and then "Please, no." :
The tightness in my throat spread up to my jaw and out through my shoulders. My ears rang. I continued to see spots. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, and my mouth went dry. My legs went numb and there was this awful, breathless, time-stopping moment of intense terror before my chest started to pound wildly, violently.
My body moved to the rhythm of my heart. thump thump thump thump thump
There was no break in the beating, no stopping the rush of the blood in my veins. I felt my pulse in my ankles, my wrists, my temples, my stomach, on my collarbone, in between my thighs. It didn't stop.
My hands and stomach started to sweat. I was clammy, hot, uncomfortable, and nauseous. I couldn't swallow or talk. I bit my lip until it broke. And bled. I didn't care.
My friends didn't know what to do with me. I told them to take me home. One friend put me on the front of his bicycle and pedaled me the 15 or so blocks home. During the ride, I lost all feeling in my legs, but felt pins & needles in my feet.
I walked in the house, letting the screen door slam behind me.
"Mom?"
She was in the kitchen, making lunch. She put her hand to my chest, touched my wrist, felt my forehead. Her answer:
"Your blood sugar? Or hormones?"
She made me a tuna fish sandwich. I remember choking it down, feeling it stick in my throat, lying docile in my chest. I wanted to puke, but my mouth would not water. I tried to lie on the couch, but the pressure of my heart beating was too much. I sat instead, and started counting my heart beats.
Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelvethirteenfourteenfifteensixteen....
It was too fast to keep track of.
I blacked out.
My mother was in the backyard, tending to her roses.
******
That day, I didn't know what the hell I had. It didn't have a name. I didn't know to take my blood pressure, to get an accurate read on my heart rate, to push my face in a sink of ice water. I didn't know that it would keep happening, whenever it wanted, that it wouldn't stop until it was done, or until I was hospitalized.
When it stopped that day, I woke up slumped over on the couch. My entire body ached, like I had just run several miles with no water, or had been beaten up. The sweat was dry on my chest, back, and stomach. My eyes burned, my ears ached, my throat was so dry and itchy.
I stood up, walked upstairs, & read a book until I fell asleep, the sun's rays shining through my blinds, warming my legs.
******
This happened for years. After about 6 or 7 episodes that summer, my father was concerned. I was tired. I stopped going for daily runs, for fear that it would start up. I 'relaxed' like my mother and father suggested, but it still kept happening.
We went to see my primary care physician. He suggested I see a cardiologist after suddenly hearing "an odd arrhythmia". My father took me to the cardiologist, one of the best in our area, an expert at arrhythmias. I was the only kid in the waiting room, a room filled with elderly or overweight people. I just wanted answers at that point.
EKG, ECG, chest x-rays, 48 hours of recording monitors sticky-taped to my chest, stomach, and back.
In those 48 hours, my heart didn't do it's "thing", as I began to call it. I even attempted to rile it up, piss it off, and make it happen. I furiously blow-dried my hair, I spent time jumping rope, running around the backyard, riding my bike, even masturbating. Nothing.
We returned the recording monitor, only to be told I would have to do it again.
********
The first couple of months of my freshman year was spent wearing this monitor. I was self-conscious about it at first, but got used to it after awhile, resigned to the fact that this thing was recording my heart's every move. There was one small "episode" (dr.'s & parents' word for this) during that time, lasting less than an hour.
Within a few days of returning the monitor, we were called back to the cardiologist's office. Again, I sat in the fancy waiting room staring at AARP magazines & listening to the wheezing of a guy sitting behind me.
The doctor explained my diagnosis: mitral valve prolapse and a supra ventricular arrhythmia called paroxysmal supra ventricular tachycardia (which occurs due to an 'electrical connection' problem between the atria & ventricles). I was handed brochures, talked to about medications and surgery, and sent on my way with my first of many, many prescriptions.
At age 12, I was put on a beta-blocker. And it worked for awhile.
At age 13, I ended up in the emergency room when I had another "episode". I had read the brochures, familiarized myself with my options, and took my medicine as I was told upon feeling the first symptom. After 45 minutes of the pain, my father took me to the emergency room on a school night.
The nurse poked me several times in my hand before getting a vein. Chest x-rays, EKG, ultrasound. Sounds of surprise from the doctor and nurse upon seeing my heart rate reach & surpass 200 beats per minute. Medication, puking, sweating, saline drip, another EKG, observation for a couple of hours, my father blowing up rubber gloves & drawing silly faces on them, the fear in his eyes......
I went home and slept hard.
*******
Rinse & repeat. Year after year. I was put on every beta blocker known to man. I had episodes while rollerblading in a park with a friend, while driving to the movies, while out on a date, while showering, while running. It even woke me up one night.
Finally, the very last option worked for almost 2 years.
Almost 2 years with no "episode", no "my heart's doing it's thing", no ER visits in the middle of the night.
I started to breathe easy.
I got up off the couch, and I got light-headed. Tunnel-vision set in, combined with some stars. Vision was restored, but there was this tightness in my throat, like I had just watched a sappy chick flick. It didn't go away.
It's hard to really describe the span of feelings, symptoms, emotions. They all seemed to meld together, into one big feeling of "Oh, no, not again" and then "Please, no." :
The tightness in my throat spread up to my jaw and out through my shoulders. My ears rang. I continued to see spots. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, and my mouth went dry. My legs went numb and there was this awful, breathless, time-stopping moment of intense terror before my chest started to pound wildly, violently.
My body moved to the rhythm of my heart. thump thump thump thump thump
There was no break in the beating, no stopping the rush of the blood in my veins. I felt my pulse in my ankles, my wrists, my temples, my stomach, on my collarbone, in between my thighs. It didn't stop.
My hands and stomach started to sweat. I was clammy, hot, uncomfortable, and nauseous. I couldn't swallow or talk. I bit my lip until it broke. And bled. I didn't care.
My friends didn't know what to do with me. I told them to take me home. One friend put me on the front of his bicycle and pedaled me the 15 or so blocks home. During the ride, I lost all feeling in my legs, but felt pins & needles in my feet.
I walked in the house, letting the screen door slam behind me.
"Mom?"
She was in the kitchen, making lunch. She put her hand to my chest, touched my wrist, felt my forehead. Her answer:
"Your blood sugar? Or hormones?"
She made me a tuna fish sandwich. I remember choking it down, feeling it stick in my throat, lying docile in my chest. I wanted to puke, but my mouth would not water. I tried to lie on the couch, but the pressure of my heart beating was too much. I sat instead, and started counting my heart beats.
Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelvethirteenfourteenfifteensixteen....
It was too fast to keep track of.
I blacked out.
My mother was in the backyard, tending to her roses.
******
That day, I didn't know what the hell I had. It didn't have a name. I didn't know to take my blood pressure, to get an accurate read on my heart rate, to push my face in a sink of ice water. I didn't know that it would keep happening, whenever it wanted, that it wouldn't stop until it was done, or until I was hospitalized.
When it stopped that day, I woke up slumped over on the couch. My entire body ached, like I had just run several miles with no water, or had been beaten up. The sweat was dry on my chest, back, and stomach. My eyes burned, my ears ached, my throat was so dry and itchy.
I stood up, walked upstairs, & read a book until I fell asleep, the sun's rays shining through my blinds, warming my legs.
******
This happened for years. After about 6 or 7 episodes that summer, my father was concerned. I was tired. I stopped going for daily runs, for fear that it would start up. I 'relaxed' like my mother and father suggested, but it still kept happening.
We went to see my primary care physician. He suggested I see a cardiologist after suddenly hearing "an odd arrhythmia". My father took me to the cardiologist, one of the best in our area, an expert at arrhythmias. I was the only kid in the waiting room, a room filled with elderly or overweight people. I just wanted answers at that point.
EKG, ECG, chest x-rays, 48 hours of recording monitors sticky-taped to my chest, stomach, and back.
In those 48 hours, my heart didn't do it's "thing", as I began to call it. I even attempted to rile it up, piss it off, and make it happen. I furiously blow-dried my hair, I spent time jumping rope, running around the backyard, riding my bike, even masturbating. Nothing.
We returned the recording monitor, only to be told I would have to do it again.
********
The first couple of months of my freshman year was spent wearing this monitor. I was self-conscious about it at first, but got used to it after awhile, resigned to the fact that this thing was recording my heart's every move. There was one small "episode" (dr.'s & parents' word for this) during that time, lasting less than an hour.
Within a few days of returning the monitor, we were called back to the cardiologist's office. Again, I sat in the fancy waiting room staring at AARP magazines & listening to the wheezing of a guy sitting behind me.
The doctor explained my diagnosis: mitral valve prolapse and a supra ventricular arrhythmia called paroxysmal supra ventricular tachycardia (which occurs due to an 'electrical connection' problem between the atria & ventricles). I was handed brochures, talked to about medications and surgery, and sent on my way with my first of many, many prescriptions.
At age 12, I was put on a beta-blocker. And it worked for awhile.
At age 13, I ended up in the emergency room when I had another "episode". I had read the brochures, familiarized myself with my options, and took my medicine as I was told upon feeling the first symptom. After 45 minutes of the pain, my father took me to the emergency room on a school night.
The nurse poked me several times in my hand before getting a vein. Chest x-rays, EKG, ultrasound. Sounds of surprise from the doctor and nurse upon seeing my heart rate reach & surpass 200 beats per minute. Medication, puking, sweating, saline drip, another EKG, observation for a couple of hours, my father blowing up rubber gloves & drawing silly faces on them, the fear in his eyes......
I went home and slept hard.
*******
Rinse & repeat. Year after year. I was put on every beta blocker known to man. I had episodes while rollerblading in a park with a friend, while driving to the movies, while out on a date, while showering, while running. It even woke me up one night.
Finally, the very last option worked for almost 2 years.
Almost 2 years with no "episode", no "my heart's doing it's thing", no ER visits in the middle of the night.
I started to breathe easy.
8.26.2009
Down in Mexico
My hubby & I have gotten good at watching the IFC on a regular basis. He says he started watching independent films as a kid because "those were the only movies that weren't porn where you could see a girl's boobies & who-ha" (my word, not his). While I respect that answer, it is not at all why I have watched independent films.
The other night we finished Made of Honor (sweet & omg, McDreamy) & he turned on IFC (my hubby, not McDreamy. Although...wow, now that would be a kick-ass life, wouldn't it? RAWR.).
Death Proof was on, and we were both spellbound. Not only is Rosario Dawson such a turn-on in this movie, but so is Vanessa Ferlito (Man of the House, Madea goes to Jail, Julie & Julia). It is just brilliant, in all it's gruesomeness (is soooo a word). The end made me feel so empowered as a woman, like holy shit, I could totally kick-ass!!
If you haven't seen this movie, what the hell are you waiting for? I just don't even want to tell you anything about it other than it is HOTT. Oh, and there's blood. That is all. Oh, and awesome music. That is all (no, really).
I leave you with one of the best parts of the movie, and if it doesn't turn you on, you are just un-turn-on-able.
******
If you are still interested in participating in the "When Pills Aren't Enough" Sessions, I have extended the due date! Just get me your post by Sunday, August 30th, with instructions about whether you want your post linked back to your blog! We will do the posting of the rants on Tuesday, September 1st. Email me at dlwinkler(at)msn(dot)com if you have any questions!! Now, get to ranting!!
The other night we finished Made of Honor (sweet & omg, McDreamy) & he turned on IFC (my hubby, not McDreamy. Although...wow, now that would be a kick-ass life, wouldn't it? RAWR.).
Death Proof was on, and we were both spellbound. Not only is Rosario Dawson such a turn-on in this movie, but so is Vanessa Ferlito (Man of the House, Madea goes to Jail, Julie & Julia). It is just brilliant, in all it's gruesomeness (is soooo a word). The end made me feel so empowered as a woman, like holy shit, I could totally kick-ass!!
If you haven't seen this movie, what the hell are you waiting for? I just don't even want to tell you anything about it other than it is HOTT. Oh, and there's blood. That is all. Oh, and awesome music. That is all (no, really).
I leave you with one of the best parts of the movie, and if it doesn't turn you on, you are just un-turn-on-able.
******
If you are still interested in participating in the "When Pills Aren't Enough" Sessions, I have extended the due date! Just get me your post by Sunday, August 30th, with instructions about whether you want your post linked back to your blog! We will do the posting of the rants on Tuesday, September 1st. Email me at dlwinkler(at)msn(dot)com if you have any questions!! Now, get to ranting!!
8.25.2009
The things we do for love
Friday I took the day off from work, with the intent of getting some things done in the morning, including trying to do some hardcore writing, and then taking my girlie to the water park with her BFF, Paige. Luckily, it had poured all morning, so it wasn't super-hot, and apparently everyone was out shopping (tax-free weekend here in Texas), so it was not busy at all. It was such a fun time. These two girls are so incredibly sweet and silly together. They play so well together, and I really had a great time with them. Here they are being silly:
*****
We had our little home visit with the dog adoption agency on Sunday. That was interesting. I have one simple word for the lady that asked us questions: annoying. She immediately tried to persuade us away from one of the dogs we are interested in. She said things completely opposite from this dog's foster mother, whom we met on Saturday, when we met the dog. She was rather annoying. She even went so far as to say "I don't want you to get a dog that will draw your attention & energy away from your young daughter". I wanted to deck her right there. Really? Because we didn't think this through before we filled out the application. OH, and I'm so dumb-ass-looking that I don't have the slightest clue how to multi-task, and take care of 2 dogs, a kid, my house, my job, school, & every other fucking thing. Sheesh.
Anyway, we should be hearing something this week, and should be scheduling separate visits with 3 dogs, 2 of which we have not met yet. Fingers crossed.
*********
My girl really wanted to do my hair Sunday, and I really wanted to take a nap, so I sorta gave in. I played 'school' and 'house' with her, and fell asleep face down on her carpet so she could 'do my hair'. The outcome?
This:
*****
We had our little home visit with the dog adoption agency on Sunday. That was interesting. I have one simple word for the lady that asked us questions: annoying. She immediately tried to persuade us away from one of the dogs we are interested in. She said things completely opposite from this dog's foster mother, whom we met on Saturday, when we met the dog. She was rather annoying. She even went so far as to say "I don't want you to get a dog that will draw your attention & energy away from your young daughter". I wanted to deck her right there. Really? Because we didn't think this through before we filled out the application. OH, and I'm so dumb-ass-looking that I don't have the slightest clue how to multi-task, and take care of 2 dogs, a kid, my house, my job, school, & every other fucking thing. Sheesh.
Anyway, we should be hearing something this week, and should be scheduling separate visits with 3 dogs, 2 of which we have not met yet. Fingers crossed.
*********
My girl really wanted to do my hair Sunday, and I really wanted to take a nap, so I sorta gave in. I played 'school' and 'house' with her, and fell asleep face down on her carpet so she could 'do my hair'. The outcome?
This:
And that's only one side of my head. What you don't see is about 7000 other clips & bows, and two pigtails on either side of my head, just above my ears. I even drove over to my mom's house like that.
**********
I didn't need them, and I was actually looking for something for someone else, when these caught my eye:
(Please ignore the Redbox DVD in the background, & the 7000000 pieces of dog hair on the passenger seat of my Jeep-I am a photo-genius, I swear)
So I IM'ed them to Chris because we send pictures of things to each other approximately 12 times a day. She wanted some. So I went back and bought her a pair. Shipping them today.
******
And, because I love blogging, being of service to others (but not of service to my husband, according to him! snort), and VENTING w/ no consequences, I came up with The 'When pills aren't enough' Sessions.
Please join the fun! Email me a post that you want put on another participant's blog & LET IT ALL OUT. I have lots of interested peeps, but the more the merrier!
8.24.2009
Monday Monday
The semester started today, and while I'm excited (so far), I was a bit overwhelmed by all the reading in one of my classes. I have 6 chapters to read for next Monday, just in that class! Guess I'll finish The Time Traveler's Wife and start Rage sometime around Christmas. Le sigh.
*********
I had two packages in my mailbox when I got home.
First, I got my BusyBodyBook! I am so excited about this, and can I just tell you that I will be spending large amounts of time filling this sucker up tomorrow, instead of working? Yeah, I haz dork.
What sold me about this calender/planner is all of the space to put your appointments, and 5 columns to separate each category. For instance, I will have a column for school-related appointments and assignments, one for things related to my girl, one for things related to work, one for personal stuff like hair appts or massages (hahahahahaha-like THAT will happen any time soon!), & one for...hell, I don't know yet, but you get my point.*********
My second package is actually something that isn't for me, but I was super-excited anyway! My sweet NY friend Peggy has launched a new site, featuring her super-softy, perfectly cuddly, and very functional baby blankets! It's the perfect swaddle blanket! And look at the cute fabric!!
Please go check out her site, Li'l Foot Designs.
Not only does she do awesome work, but the fabric is soft & sweet and the price is perfect! Also? She's totally having a giveaway right now, and you could win your very own swaddle blanket!
******
THEN! If that wasn't enough for one day, a fairly new reader to my blog sent me a button for my "When pills aren't enough" Sessions! How sweet is she?!
How lucky can one silly girl possibly be??
8.20.2009
The "When pills aren't enough" Sessions
**Updated/edited!!: Please send me your post by Sunday, August 30th. I will then send you a post to put on your own blog by Monday evening, August 31st. Then we will all post on Tuesday, September 1st. Wanted to give more time to everyone! **
On several occasions over the past few weeks, I have read or heard people complaining that they can't be absolutely and completely honest on their blogs, for a variety of reasons. Maybe your mom reads your blog. Or your grandmother. Or you have co-workers or clients who have found your blog. Maybe your spouse doesn't like you telling "strangers" about the concerns you may have in your marriage. Whatever it may be, I'm pretty sure at some point you have been afraid to post something. And who can blame you? Who wants your grandmother to know you are testing & reviewing a dildo? Who wants your co-worker or boss to read about how stabby you get in the office?
Whatever it is, it would be nice to rant, bitch, complain, vent, get it out already, without the negative consequences. It would be great to get some feedback from other smart people out there, without worrying about losing readers (or your job).
Thus, The "When pills aren't enough" Sessions! (As in, "I took a pill to calm my ass down, but I'm still stressing/pissed/panicking." And I can't take credit for the name; Holly is fabulous with stuff like that.)
Basically, this is how it works:
Am I fabulously smart or what? (Don't everyone answer that all at once).
So! Pretty please email me if you are interested in participating! I will need your guest post by Wednesday night, August 26th.
Now I just need to decide what I'm going to write about first!
On several occasions over the past few weeks, I have read or heard people complaining that they can't be absolutely and completely honest on their blogs, for a variety of reasons. Maybe your mom reads your blog. Or your grandmother. Or you have co-workers or clients who have found your blog. Maybe your spouse doesn't like you telling "strangers" about the concerns you may have in your marriage. Whatever it may be, I'm pretty sure at some point you have been afraid to post something. And who can blame you? Who wants your grandmother to know you are testing & reviewing a dildo? Who wants your co-worker or boss to read about how stabby you get in the office?
Whatever it is, it would be nice to rant, bitch, complain, vent, get it out already, without the negative consequences. It would be great to get some feedback from other smart people out there, without worrying about losing readers (or your job).
Thus, The "When pills aren't enough" Sessions! (As in, "I took a pill to calm my ass down, but I'm still stressing/pissed/panicking." And I can't take credit for the name; Holly is fabulous with stuff like that.)
Basically, this is how it works:
- You send me an email (at dlwinkler (at)msn (dot)com) telling me you want to participate. Go ahead and give me the link to your blog as well. Let me know if there is anything you do not want posted on your blog.
- Then you send me your post. It can be about ANYTHING. Nothing is off-limits here.
- I will send your post to another participating blogger to be posted on their blog next Friday, August 28th. We will all post the guest posts that day.
- If you wish to have an under-the-radar, sneeky pen name for your post, go right ahead. Just put it in the email. If you want your blog to be linked on your post, let me know.
- Here's the great part: It's a round-robin sorta thing, so if your guest post goes on Participant #1's blog, Participant #1's guest post will not go on your blog, but on Participant #2's blog. That way, no one that normally reads your blog (like your mother or your nosy secretary) will be able to find your guest post!
Am I fabulously smart or what? (Don't everyone answer that all at once).
So! Pretty please email me if you are interested in participating! I will need your guest post by Wednesday night, August 26th.
Now I just need to decide what I'm going to write about first!
**You may see this post on several people's blogs today. Just trying to spread the word.Feel free to do the same!!**
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