Family the second worst "F" word

I was born into a family that, on my fathers side, has given me 12 aunts and uncles and countless cousins. Some alive, some passed, all whom just couldn't take me for one reason or another when they found out I was in foster care at the age of 3. Every one of them I have spoken with has explained to me how they are really sorry and wished they could have helped me out but they are so glad that things turned out OK.

I am writing this to tell you, "I am NOT OK!" Your conscience should not be clear and you should absolutely feel like an ass. That's right I said it. How do you like me now?

I was bounced in and out of 7 foster homes and back and forth to the orphanage several times. My childhood sucked.

All I every really wanted was a family. I have tried to create relationships with 'blood' - family members but it seems that they all think I am the jerk. Perhaps it is my 'Take no crap attitude' or the fact that I will 'Tell you like it is' is not what you want to hear. Either way I have been cast aside again by the very family that couldn't be bothered to help me out the first go round.

"The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict." This is a quote that comes to mind when I think of my dear ole Bright family. I do not however subscribe to the theory of heaven or hell so the meaning of this quote has very immediate meaning for me, meaning your hell starts the minute you selfishly turn away from a fellow human in need. You will grow sickness and unhappiness because after all you reap what you sow. 

Enjoy.

 

Followup from when job interviews go wild....

So after going through the interview from hell.....I was offered the job. REALLY? After all that they asked me to come to work for them.

Finally a job where I was working around semi-intelligent people -

*Note: This is not to say that I think of myself as wildly more intelligent than the people around me just merely that it is wise that I avoid "The blind leading the blind" type situations.

- So I thought. The same woman that tried to bring up my website and had forgot to plug in the internet *giggle giggle* was also the same woman that seemed to let it escape her attention that I live 35 miles away from the job over a mountain that sometimes has really bad weather.

In the interview I said I live 17 miles from Cheyenne. She interrupted that as 17 miles from Laramie. (back to intelligent people) This woman has a doctoral degree in education....Explains a lot about the state of our education system.

I was let go today because when her boss (my big boss the one I haven't even met yet) had my paper work cross her desk she asked, "Why did we hire someone from Cheyenne when I specifically made a policy that no one from Cheyenne would be hired due to the bad attendance experience, because of road closures, we had with the last girl from Cheyenne?".  -insert the sounds of only cricket's in the distance -

So I am back on the trail of trying to find a job. Thank you University of Wyoming for totally screwing my summer. I am getting married in less than 7 weeks so getting a job right now seems a little pointless doesn't it. 

On the bright side, I can now go on a honey moon after I am married. Down side it won't be beyond our driveway because we can't afford it.

My luck has got to turn around soon or I will just apply for disability on the terms that I am obviously the crazy one around here!

When job interviews go wild.....

So as my search for the perfect job continues I finally wrangled a job interview as a liaison for the Education Graduate Program at the University of Wyoming!!!

I am one of those people that you can take to a karaoke bar, a bat mitzvah or even your grandmas funeral and I can make it wildly more fun. My super powers of fun, however, end when it comes to job interviews.

The old, "What are your weakness's?" question can always be answered one way....  My weakness is job interviews! I act like a total putz. I look like a deer in the headlights with the possibility being totally "On something."

In my coveted UW job interview they explain how their main interest in me is the fact that I can develop and maintain websites. I proudly explain that I love that type of work and go on to boast about the website I created for my job search to set myself apart from the competition. 

"Well", says the Assistant Dean of UW, "Let's take a look at this website!"..........................NOTHING! She can't pull it up!

At this point I am digging my heel into the floor to see if it might be soft enough for me to dig a hole and bury myself so the pain of humiliation will finally stop.

As you can imagine the rest of the interview was tense. All I could think about was how nice it would be to bury myself under the covers when I got home in the safety of my bed.

Today I get an email with the slightest essence of jest..

"Hi Christine – just wanted you to know we found your website right after you left. It was user error …. I wasn't connected to the Internet :)"

Funny. 

After profuse profanity (to myself) I came to the realization that Haiti will freeze over before I get a job offer from this place. Great. Finding a date wasn't even this hard.

So onward and upward the job search continues.....

Children the only chattel you can't legally sell.....

The fact is that your children can abuse you, rob you, destroy your reputation, cost you thousands with little to no return, even land your ass in jail but they don't really have to take responsibility because they are "Kids".  From 0-18 years kids have a never ending get out of jail free card. Anytime your kids does something that makes you want to abort them some asshole has to say, "But they're kids. That's what kids do. They will apologize when they get older and have kids of their own."

At what point do you have to say enough is enough?

Parents are only people we have a end point to the pushing of our buttons. The questions is what is an OK end point? Is it when your kids having been screaming for hours destroying everything in the house? or When they stand on the front porch of their grandmothers house screaming, "Fuck you!. I fucking hate you! I don't want to go home with you. I am going to live at my fathers/grandparents house. You suck! I don't ever want to see you again!" At what point will the same assholes from above with the great parenting advise say, "That is the breaking point, you shouldn't have to take that."?

Parents are supposed to be perfect robots. The only emotion we are allowed to have is love. The problem is parent robots are not realistic. Our job as parents (in the emotions department) is be a test subject for how the rest of the world will react to your emotions.

e.g. -  You run up to me after school and give me big hug and say you love me. I in turn feel motivated to reward that behavior with letting you stay at your friends home on Friday night.

~or~

You have a melt down and scream how much you hate me and you don't want to live with me because my rules are to strict. I will not be as inclined to drive you and your friends around all weekend listening to music that makes me want to slit my wrists.

There are no right answers when it comes to parenting. No hand book but a thousand critics. For myself I will continue shooting from the hip and going with my gut.

As a parent my gut says: If you want to live with your dad or grandparents or whatever, go for it. If you want to cut off all communication and cut me out of your life, that's a choice you will have to live with. My gut also tells me that when you come back to mend fences when you are older and have your own children you will find that bridge has long been burned down never to be rebuilt. The lesson here is how far you can push peoples love. Now you will never have to learn that from anyone else and I have done my job as a parent teaching you how the world and the people in it operate emotionally.

Wanted: Accounting Clerk

ATTENTION all job seekers:

Acme, Inc. is looking for people with accounting knowledge and absolute essential skill and training in double entry accounting and accrual vs. cash basis. The ability to think in debits /credits vs. positive/negative. Payroll experience and knowledge of straight time, overtime, commissions and payroll taxes for federal and multiple states. You must have a Bachelor's in accounting, a Master's is preferred CPA's will take preference.You must be willing to take a computer test on an archaic computer that may or may not work at the time of your test meanwhile you will be humiliated and ridiculed at the local unemployment office. You will need to send your resume in triplicate (as we will most likely lose it or disregard it - then lower our standards and want it back) along with a full cover letter outlining all your skills and job experience because we have no intention of reading the resume you have spent the last week of your life writing and re-writing.

Pay is $10/hr. This is part time position, 10 hrs/week.

Belief & Xanax both powerful things that can be dangerous in any social setting

*As a side note I would like to point out that spell check does not recognize xanax but does offer Xanadu as an alternative. WTF?

As I was saying....Aww belief such a powerful thing dare I quote John Mayer:
"Belief is a beautiful armor but makes for the heaviest sword like punching under water you never can hit who you're trying for"

Living in the Midwest I have been subjected to a standard belief system that is intolerant to any deviation from the system. The worst ones in the group are those that tout this liberal notion that they are in fact very tolerant and even enthusiastic about accepting everyone including those with different beliefs.

The fact is that devout belief is dangerous and it always has been. It has sunk ships, murdered millions of innocent families and blew up 2 iconic buildings killing  2,996 people not including the hundreds of thousands of people that have died due to the war after.

Deviating from the standard belief held by the majority is a very lonely world filled with nonstop turmoil.

It would be very easy to just pony up and go to the mall on Saturday and church on Sunday. The only problem is - I don't want to lie to myself. I make no apologizes I don't believe in God and I do believe organized religion is, has and will always be the down fall of our species.

Growing up in the foster care system I have had an abundant amount of opportunities to have my soul saved. I have experienced all sorts of religions not once but some for years. Here is a little secret - They are ALL the same! They all think they are the 'rightest' and the they all think everyone needs to be saved. Sure the music and the outfits vary but at the end of the day it's all the same shit with a different name.

The fact is we have each other to depend on we don't need fairy tale characters to watch out for us. Take some community responsibility here. When your house is burning down God, Allah, the other God, Jah, Tangaloaa (Creator God who made humans from grubs - for real), and the hundreds of other "Gods" that we have created in our own imagination, aren't gong to drive the firetruck over and put it out; our socially subsidized fire crew is.

Now lets break here and access our anger level. If you are angry about what I just said you have a problem not me. You have chosen to read this by your own free will (unless of course you are handcuffed in a dark dingy basement with only crusts of bread to eat and forced to read every word I write over and over. May I suggest calling our socially subsidized police force to help you out if this is indeed the case). Just because I don't subscribe to the same religious beliefs doesn't mean I need to be educated or verbally violated.

When you try to explain yourself in a psuedocaring way as if you accept me even though 'I am not a believer', you are in essence violating my human rights by forcing a hyper-personal belief as the standard control in every debate.

Every time someone mindless says 'Lord help us' or 'God has blessed us with children' or 'Jesus loves you' it makes me feel further isolated because that just simply doesn't apply to me. What if I said, "Socially subsidized agency help us" or "Luckily the condom broke and now we have a beautiful child" or "My community loves me"? People would think I was nuts. Sad huh?

The bottom line is that staying true to my internal spirituality has isolated me in great big world full of people that are very angry I don't see eye to eye with them. I can handle lonely......I have my belief to keep me warm at night.

Well that didn't go very well.

I am updating my weight loss weeks after I had hoped. I have lost 2 pounds.

I have not stayed on my diet/exercise plan. Below you can review all of the incredibly legitimate excuses as to why:

1) I have MAJOR (by writing this is all caps I am trying to convey that I really mean this with all my heart) anxiety about my job. I am talking the kind of anxiety that makes me think pills may really be my wonder cure. Not good. This makes my "Emotional eating" problem a struggle I can not ever hope to win. I don't know why 2 glasses of wine and a bowl of ice cream makes me feel better, I just know it does....All right....So leave me alone.

2.) I am not sliding right into an exercise routine very well because physically I am just not 100% yet. I can say the "Boot Camp" class I took made it not only impossible to exercise for a whole week but I could not even raise my arms above my head to pull on my clothing for at least 4 days. I believe this class was a step backwards.

3.) I am tired. I am tired of maintaining this delicate balance of what I am supposed to look like. I actually believe Cyning may love me less if I weigh more. What the hell is wrong with me?

So I am working on getting back on track and did lose 3 lbs but gained 1 back so I am now 145 3/4 (that's what it said...don't judge me...I can feel you judging)

Moral of the story is I need to start slow and stay steady.

Where do you measure your parts to see if you are fat? Yep...I googled that.

Aww another week in paradise! Thanks to my friend Sherry I have been inspired to document my impending weight loss regiment. I like my body, I am pretty happy with my size but with (hopefully) a pregnancy on the way I have decided to lose some weight. I hope a deficit can help me take a hit of a 40 lb weight gain if that's what it comes to.

I am starting at 148lbs. I am comfortably a size 10 with room but regularly fit my large ass into a size 8 just so I feel like I have only gained 3 lbs since I met Cyning. I have in fact gained 14 lbs and lost 4 so I am a whole 10 lbs heavier than the day he met me. Not good.

I went to a weight watchers meeting with a friend to see if that would be a good route of fat reduction for me. It is not going to work for 2 reasons:
Reason: 1) I have social anxiety which makes it virtually impossible for me to act normal in front of strangers (don't get me wrong this has it's benefits - I am the life of the party at any bar or kegger. I am unable to lower my voice for hours and I have a perpetual need to sing Karoke, even sober)
Reason: 2) I also have major issues with eating junk food to get healthy. I don't want to live on quadruple processed "Goo" you call a breakfast bar so I can feel like I am not missing out on junk food. Yuck!

I have started a journal to keep me motivated and on track.

I have decided to use a combonation of tools:

Sparkpeople.com to count calories

USDA food pyramid to remember what the hell I am supposed to be eating per day

shapefit.com to check BMI

My journal

Photos that inspire me

The Zone principles of 40-30-30

My camera and tripod to visually keep track of how things are going

e.g:

So here's the scoop:

10 weeks

20lbs

Weekly blog updates

Here we go...Come on success I can taste you!

The shanking in Mexico: part deux

As we entered Mexico the veil of cushy USA dropped with the first tank full of 3 soldiers with weapons aimed right at us (the first of many I might add) just on the other side of the border. I am not sure if we felt more safe or more in danger. At 80 mph we sailed into the heart of a very impoverished town called Rio Bravo. Cyning was in shock and awe when he saw shanty town after shanty town leading the way to the hospital.

I admit I was having a few second thoughts. The pollution was amazing, even the staunchest conservative would have been crying out for the tree hugging hippy environmentalists to do something. As we pulled up to the hospital it seemed like the preverbal palm tree and pond in the desert.

I could hear the sound of angels singing it's praises. I believe Cyning felt the same way. We walked into the reception area. Clean, comfortable, well decorated, greeted by smiling faces. Maybe we won't die after all.  Not to be pessimistic but the euphoria I was feeling could have easily been the joy of simply getting out of the minivan from hell. By getting out I mean Armin running around to open the door as it doesn't open from the inside.

Once safe inside Armin showed us to our room. Again we were pleasantly surprised by the quaintness. Armin scuttled off only to return with our hospital paper work (all in Spanish of course) so he could review it with us. We decided it would be best to at least have a translator or at the very least a medical professional review the paper work with us. Armin was offended, I could tell. I didn't care in the least. In walked the round and smiling face of our hero Dr. Levi.

Dr. Levi got right down to business. They had a cancellation for the surgery before me so he wanted to get mine done early. 

The head nurse a lovely woman with very long, very gold sparkly nails came in to assist a new young nurse in placing my IV. After a ten minute try and eventually landing it directly into my ligament (yeah it's even more painful than it sounds) I had to cry uncle. 

Side note: As a one time phlebotomist I know the importance of feeling calm and confident when you stick. But my goodness every one has a breaking point. Mine is a 20gauge needle buried deep into my ligament.

I have been less sweaty after running a 5K. I thought I was going to pass out and throw up all at once. Dr. Levi took over and patiently showed the young girl just what to do. After the IV was in he immediately ordered extra sedative. Good call Doc.

The next thing I remember is being wheeled into the operating room.

Cyning, all decked out in scrubs, came in to support me. Even with one of the worst flu's of his life with a  raging fever. What a  guy.

2 1/2 hours (and a lot of sedative) later they had me all fixed up and ready to go.

We were treated like royalty humans family. Very unlike the US medical system.

22 hours later our feet were firmly planted on US soil and on the road to recovery. We look forward to many little Meadowcrofts to carry on our political, society antagonizing mischief. 

And the world said a little prayer for Laramie County School District #1, They thought all our kids were done and gone. Muhahaahaha.

Why I am so weird......

I have a very different outlook on priorities and how relationships work. I grew up in and out of foster care and "Group Homes". Everyone always tells me "You are a survivor."  What that translates as in English: "You are weird, I don't understand you at all and I am seriously afraid you might cut me so I am giving you the closest thing to a compliment I can muster because after all you are several levels below me on the class system."
I didn't want to spend my childhood surviving. I wanted to thrive. I wanted to be one of the people that made those types of un-compliments.
Do you ever remember the feeling of being separated from your parents in a store when you were little? The fear. The panic. Will they ever find you? Will someone hurt you? Are they looking for you? Suddenly the temperature gets about 50 degrees colder and you can't stop shaking.
When you live in foster care you carry this feeling with you forever. It may not be as strong as time goes on but it is always there lurking in your psyche just waiting to influence your daily affairs to alert everyone that you are not quite the same as them. You a have a weirdness that can not be explained and makes them nervous.

The story of how I was shanked in Mexico part 1

Verb/shanked 1. prison slang for getting stabbed with a home made knife repeadedly and swiftly (e.g) "you better gimmie dat cornbread son, or you finna get shanked!" said inmate dontrelle to his cellmate About 12 years ago I was told by a half ass doctor that because I was having heart problems I should not have anymore children. This will ensure that I will not have any more heart trouble and will avoid any surgery. Great! I had my tubes tied. I didn't mind because I was single and had no prospects. In 2004 I had full open heart surgery. Thanks for the advice doc. Therefore I had my tubes tied for nothing. This past winter break I decided to have them untied. Naturally, because I can't do anything without adding adventure and danger, I choose to have this done in a border town in Mexico. The town I choose recently had 13 people massacred and the Mayor executed in town square. Why not? We drove from Wyoming to McAllen, Texas and hitched a ride with "Armin" the shuttle driver. He picked us at the airport spoke little to no English and through hand gestures and grunting informed us that the door of the dilapidated mini-van was non-functional unless someone opens and closes it from the out side. There goes our escape route. Armin pulled into a gas station and asked for $125 cash, this was $5 more than we originally agreed on. Oh well we were trapped at that point. Instead of filling up with gas he started kicking the tires and testing the tire pressure then filled the back tire up. In unison we said, "We are going to die". At a rate of 80 mph we headed into Mexico!

Hysterosalpingogram's and other things I don't want to have happen to my crotch.

Noun

1.

hysterosalpingogram - X ray of the uterus and Fallopian tubes; usually done in diagnosing infertility (to see if there any blockages)

Cost: Somewhere between $1000 to $2500

Pain from 1-10: I hear it should be about a 7

To do the procedure or not do the procedure that is the question. 

I am faced with a crossroads of sorts. I have spent several thousands of dollars to have a tubal ligation reversed should I spend more to make sure it worked?