Ceci n'est pas une vie

I lurve my friends.

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 19:08:01 GMT

I appreciate everyone's comments on my tear jerking post. I'm finding it weird to realize that of all my grandpa's grandchildren, I was the closest to him. My grandmother even said to me I was more attentive to him than she was during those last days. I never thought I had some special relationship with Grandpa Wilburn, but I guess I did. I wish I realized it before he was gone.

I am trying to get things back to normal. And by normal, I mean buying a super expensive Mini Cooper Clubman S. The transmission on my old car was going completely kaput, and I had been coveting one since December. I can't believe they gave me 1500 bucks on my old piece of junk, it had 82k miles, body damage, and looked like crap. I am thrilled, though. In November, when Michael gets his bonus, I'll buy my little brother a car owned by a little old lady, since I was going to give him mine before it went to car heaven. My Mercury Sable was a good car, but my Mini is awesome. I love driving it, and I hate driving on general principle. Screw you, environment, I am never walking again!

Now, to work on my business. And my grandpa's program. And clean the house. And get ready for Isabel starting kindergarten on August 18th. Oy!

Stronger than I thought

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 15:05:48 GMT

Losing my grandfather last week showed me I am stronger than I thought. I always thought I'd fall apart when someone I loved died.

Grandpa Wilburn's death was surprising, but not unexpected. He had went into the ICU with kidney failure, but felt just fine. I visited him Monday night, July 20th. I told him how proud I was of him, of all he overcame with his awful childhood. He shrugged and said it was nothing special. I told him how proud I was of his service in the Marines. I told him how much I loved him. He told me how proud he was of me, and all of our family members. He said what a good wife my Grandma was and how she was finally telling him she loved him, after 58 years of marriage. He asked me if I was happy, and I said, yes, the happiest I'd been in decades. He told me he wanted me to have his Marine medals if anything happened to him. He told me how much he loved my mom, and how he worried about her, and would do anything to help. He told me how he missed my brother, and was anxious to see him when he got out of the half-way house. He hugged me, and gave me a kiss on top of my head.

On Tuesday morning, Grandma called me to say he had a stroke. I rushed down to the hospital. He was there, looking at me, trying to smile, but not saying a word. A scan quickly showed the severe damage in his frontal lobe. Grandpa was there, he made a half-smile when we told him we loved him, he rolled his eyes at my cousin Shawn's goofy joke, but he wasn't always there. There was no chance of recovery according to the doctors, and he would continue to have strokes until he was completely gone. Grandpa's living will said no feeding tubes, no extraordinary measures so after 55 years of pricks and injections, Grandpa stopped receiving insulin for his diabetes, and went up to a hospice room in the hospital.

I spent Wednesday night with Grandpa. We both teared up as I told him how it was his WWII books that sparked my love of history. I told him how without him passing on his interest in computers, neither I nor my best friend Angela would have met our husbands. He smiled as I told him we were having a sleep over, and we'd watch the history channel together. I watched as he slowly changed that evening, as he began to leave this world. Every ten or twenty minutes, he'd open his eyes, look for me, smile, and go back to sleep. I opened the blinds so he could see the sunrise. When my grandmother came in at 6:30am Thursday morning, Grandpa looked at her, smiled so sweetly, and went to sleep. He never opened his eyes again.

Friday, when I held his hand, he no longer squeezed back. He rested deeply. I told him how much I loved him, that it was okay to go, we'd watch over Grandma. I told him I knew his Marine buddies were waiting for him and that he should join them if he wanted to. Isabel gave him one last hug and a kiss on his arm. We said goodbye, and a few hours later, Grandpa passed with my mom, my aunt, and my grandma touching his chest, sending him off with love.

Michael gave the eulogy for my grandpa Thursday. The Marines presented my grandma with the flag. Everyone left, but Grandpa's urn remained on a table. I couldn't leave him there. The kind man who had helped us at the funeral home was overseeing another funeral nearby, he came over, and uncovered the hole. I knelt down, and placed my grandpa's remains in the wet ground. I am glad it was me, and not a stranger, saying goodbye.

I am no longer scared of death. I no longer fear nothingness awaits me when I take my last breath. I know what is waiting: it is my grandpa, as strong and unbending as ever, to take my hand.

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 07:20:05 GMT

I haven't posted in a long time. Wow.

I am doing better. The meds I am on really have cut down on the OCD brain clutter. I am working on getting productive again. I have to remind myself I spent the better part of the past 12 years being sick, and I shouldn't not judge myself any harsher than I would the next person.

I do not to stop drinking caffeine. Mmm, Coke Zero.

Hypochondrias, ho!

Tue, 24 Mar 2009 21:45:04 GMT

My anxiety is getting worse, not better. I've picked about four or five diseases to freak out about. I am thinking about going to the doctor about it. I always liked to blame Prozac for my weight gain in 1998-99, but oh wait, the eating of Taco Bueno every night, plus drinking a two liter of Coke every day, plus eating entire cheesecakes by myself might have really had something to do with it. Just a thought.

I am going to switch doctors, too. I don't like my doctor at all. He doesn't listen to me.

Now excuse me while obsess about having some undiagnosed, evil disease.

Productive.

Tue, 10 Mar 2009 23:54:26 GMT

Today I cleaned our washer and dryer, after seven years of inertia in my laundry room. Now I am going to download an article about Imperial Germany and read it. Then I will take notes. This must be how normal people feel.

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 16:59:53 GMT

I am dealing with skanky dog gas. My dogs are old and smell a lot. I love them, but I tire of dog hair and stench.

I love how you don't realize things that are COMPLETELY obvious, until you talk about it with another person. My therapist and I were talking about how I hate going to the park with Isabel, and I realized it's because the entire time I spend worrying about her behavior and whether evil ninjas are going to kidnap her at any moment. It's like when we took the dogs to the dog park yesterday, I spent the entire trip concerned my dogs were going to attack another dog, even though they have never been aggressive at all. I love you, generalized anxiety disorder!

As the world economy collapses around us, everything in the Corley household is pretty okay. This week the plumber will be fixing our bathtub faucet and broken master bathroom toilet, both of which have been broken for over a year. Next month I think we will be buying new interior doors for the entire house, which badly needs to be done. We are also going to LA and San Diego in May.

I wish I had enough time to get a job, but I don't think I can get a full time one for at least another year. Plus, horrible economy probably does not equal money for me.

A post?

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 20:31:30 GMT

I still am tempted to get rid of my livejournal account, but that doesn't keep me from checking my friends list several times a day. Ha ha.

I think school is going well, except I have developed a nice little academic performance phobia. I am petrified of getting everything wrong. I also realized it's been four years since I've written a paper. Also causing anxiety.

I don't know how to organize my day anymore. I need to do something about that.

Besides that, everything is going very, very well.

Sat, 06 Dec 2008 03:00:25 GMT

I like the fact that merely discussing treatment options about my OCD with my pee-sychologist was enough to set off my OCD, thus increasing my anxiety on a scale of 1 to 10 from a 2 to a 8 within one day. Fuck you, OCD, I am totally going to defeat you, and you are going to LIKE IT!

My mom got a wig today. It was my Xmas gift to her, and it took 10 years off her looks. Right now, it sometimes will look "wiggy" to me, but I think it's because a) I know it's a wig, b) she still has grey hair that peeks out from underneath, c) she needs to style it some with some wig hairspray, and d) I know it's a wig. She was so much happier today than she has been in months. All this stuff with my brother accelerated her hair loss to massive proportions, and made her really self-conscious.

I went to the dentist today, and boy did they really kiss my ass. Michael told them when he set up the appointment of my horrible fear, and I told them of my two horror stories (having a root canal and feeling almost all of it, and having my teeth cleaned where it hurt so bad, I was literally almost jumping out of my seat). I am tired of having my teeth slowly decay away, so they are going to give me major Valium, nitrous oxide, and as much anesthesia as they can muster, Mister. But they really were kissing my ass, and even holding my hand at one point as they were poking around up there. I thought it was exaggerated, until I got out of the chair and realized my back and legs were covered in sweat. I am so scared of the dentist, and my attempts to be cool obviously were an EPIC FAIL.

Speaking of EPIC FAIL, I am playing World of Warcraft again. P33r my level 65 tauren death knight on Moon Guard, Runningdeer. She will so death strike you...to DEATH!!! Muahahahahaha!

I have a reason for not posting.

Tue, 25 Nov 2008 02:20:26 GMT

I am not depressed. No, seriously. I'm not. This must be the first time since...1992? 1988? I don't know, it's hard to remember the last time I was not in some way depressed. Yeah, there's a lot of bad stuff going on, but you know what...I don't think it's the end of the world! I don't hate myself, I don't hate my life, I don't hate where I live...okay, well, I don't like where I live but I'm not living in some kind of fantasy land about what it'd be like if I moved.

Oh, I'm not Miss Sunshine with rainbows coming out my ass (as interesting as that would be), but I'm not thinking negative, horrible thoughts about everything all the time. It feels weird not to have sadness, regret, and guilt casting a cloud over everything. I'm not catastrophizing everything.

This is all pretty weird.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 01:59:34 GMT

I've had my LJ for almost seven years, but I haven't been posting much lately. I do want to write more, I've just been kind of in a mini-funk. The mini-funk, however, feels much better than the full out funk I am used to having.

I have a lot of big questions in my head I want to sort out: what do I want to be when I grow up, what kind of parent do I want to be, what kind of wife do I want to be, how do I stop eating like a fucking sow at the trough and start taking care of myself instead.

I am doing pretty okay, considering. Today I made myself talk to three people, and I hugged a person who I know likes me, and looked like she needed a hug. I am trying so hard to jump out of my comfort zone, which of course is a bunker of isolation.

For Halloween, Michael was Peter Pan, and Isabel was Spooky Undead Tinkerbell. That fact, and the fact the other day that she asked me what the Great Depression was and why it happened, shows she is indeed my and Michael's offspring.

Ugh

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 04:58:05 GMT

You know, I really am not into the school system trying to label my daughter and force her to conform into a mindless drone. The other kids in her class won't even talk to me or any other adults. They just stand there silently. Her teachers keep complaining to me about her imaginary friends. Isabel is FIVE! FIVE! She's supposed to have imaginary friends! Jesus Christ, and this is a private school. What would a public school be like for her? I am rethinking the homeschooling stuff again. I wonder how many people will defriend me for that sentence.

I am really sick of shit. My negativity is probably due to the fact it's been almost two weeks since my last Al-Anon meeting, where I get reminded that everything in the world is actually not my fault or responsibility and that my job is not general manager of the universe. But man, you know I'd be the best GM of the universe evah.

Writer's Block: Day of German Unity

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 15:27:04 GMT

It’s the Day of German Unity, marking the 1990 reunification of East and West Germany. In our current period of global instability, do you ever feel nostalgic for the seeming simplicity of the Cold War?

View 500 Answers

Yes. The Russians were never going to nuke us, they were not interested in destroying anyone's "way of life," and were not interested in some half-baked religious reason to bring Armageddon to fruition, unlike the current presidents of the United States and Iran.

However, the war on terror is a farce, and the true problems we face that cause global instability are shortages in oil, food, and clean water.

I heart Rachel Maddow.

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 15:12:27 GMT

She's making me question my own sexuality. I told Michael if he dies, I'm going to use my huge insurance money to move to NYC and make a play for Rachel Maddow. A couple of nights ago, he started talking during her show, and I had to tell him not to interrupt my girlfriend. I think I'm in love because Rachel's everything I wish I was or think I should be. Rachel even confessed she enjoyed eating a double quarter pounder with cheese and she writes notes to herself on her hand. ZOMG, I do the same thing! SOULMATES!!!1!!

Rachel tells me the Dark Side has cookies.

As much as I love and lust after Rachel Maddow, I loathe and hate Sarah Palin. I found this comment last night online and it sums up best how I feel:

"I can’t watch that stupid brain-dead simpleton up there, so supremely confident in her imagined competence as she spews out garbled talking points like a high-school drunk vomits up wine coolers. She’s a fucking idiot. It’s a goddamned insult to me, all of you, America, Joe Biden and Gwen Ifill for Sarah Palin to even be on that stage, and she should apologize to each and every one of us, personally, for wasting all of our time and energy. And so should the fossilized old lech that is reponsible for this insult to mediocrity being up on that stage, John McCain."

I don't know how this got through my spam filter....

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 23:32:59 GMT

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Sun, 14 Sep 2008 18:36:16 GMT

My uncle died a couple of hours ago. He had just turned 54. My poor cousins.

OMGWTFBBQ

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 20:53:55 GMT

So now my Uncle Donnie has leukemia, and then last night I get the call that the doctor is saying, "Better the kids over here asap." Jesus Christ. He went from bad virus to pneumonia to leukemia in four days. I don't even like my uncle, but 20 years ago before his brain was eaten up by too much booze and opiates, he was a nice guy.

I seriously wonder if there's some kind of curse on me. I've gone from very little weirdness/tragedy in my life to huge amounts of heavy shit going down. Is this a test? Because if it is, God, can't I CLEP out of it or something?

Keep on Truckin'

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 17:06:26 GMT

I've spent five days in my house alone, and boy, has it been weird. I haven't been alone for this long of a period of time since...1996. I enjoyed it, and did not get as lonely or as freaked out as I thought I might (although I did keep waiting for a Law and Order moment to happen every time I went in the garage at night or let the dogs out into the backyard).

I'm feeling a little better than I did six months ago, and a lot more hopeful. I really like how my therapy is going. I'm realizing how much I've put myself in a box of "I can'ts" over the past 12 years, and limited my life in ways it did not have to be limited. I am looking forward to becoming more adept at challenging all the negative thoughts that constantly go through my mind.

I've become passionate about politics again, and in a good way, instead of a "Watching Fox News for 12 hours a day" way. I cringe reading some of the crap I believed about 8 years ago. That is what happens when you are sucked into a crushing depression, a repressive religion, and a propaganda machine all at the same time. I often forget how in my early 20s how much I really, really cared about politics, and how much I wanted to change things. Oh, and I heart Obama. I'm reading his book, and oh my god, a politician with a brain who can write and coherently express his opinions. It's grand.

Things in my family are going as good as can be expected, considering the looming doom hanging over our heads, preparing to drop at any moment. I worry about my mom a lot. She's lost about 30 pounds in the past four months, most of it in the beginning, but the way she has lost it has been by barely eating but still drinking the same amount of beer every night. I've also decided to write off my dad for good. I can't deal with him anymore. I haven't seen him in a year, he refuses to return my calls, and I do not need his negativity and criticism in my life anymore. He has chosen not to be a father or a grandfather, and I am not going to chase after him like I did as a kid, begging for his love and approval. I have enough to worry about here.

Now I am hungry.

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 00:44:24 GMT

I have finally been rick rolled.

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 18:41:17 GMT

I am back from Mexico. We spent an extra day there because thunderstorms hit Dallas, and ohhhhhhh noooooo I had to spend another night in a luxury hotel overlooking the beach. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

I discovered several things:

1) I like the beach.
2) I like *doing* things at the beach.
3) I do not like sitting by the pool or doing nothing at the beach.
4) It is hard to refuse food or booze when it is free.
5) I am no longer immune to the powers of tequila. Especially $25 a shot tequila given to me for free by my husband's company.
6) Riding a horse for 2 and 1/2 hours hurts your thighs.
7) I do not like jumping in 65 degree ocean water.
8) Going about 70mph on the choppy Pacific Ocean is scary, even if you have a life jacket on, and especially if the driver is AIMING for the wakes of large boats.
9) I like guacamole. And chicken mole.
10) Many people enjoy spending their vacations doing nothing but getting drunk.
11) People are friendly in Mexico, especially if your company is spending tons of money.

Next year, Michael's company is shipping the top performers to Atlantis, in the Bahamas. I told Michael he should make #5 next year, because #1 has to make a speech at a mind-numbingly dull awards banquet (which sitting through was the price I paid for this trip) but #2-5 get the same amount of money as #1.

Pictures of me standing in front of the ocean to follow.

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 20:59:33 GMT

Letting children learn about the reality of faux safety is totally awesome.

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 19:05:49 GMT

Gary Gygax has died. Geeks everywhere should observe 1d4 + 1 moments of silence.

Bleh bleh bleh

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 20:13:49 GMT

I have way too much to do and I've been procrastinating like it's 1999. I bought a bunch of new clothes for our trip. Because there is a dress code. A DRESS CODE! I'm really afraid these people are going to make me feel inferior. Because I grew up in a working class family with almost no money except for Dad's government check, I have a horrible inferiority complex when it comes to my looks or clothes. I don't want to stand out, and I don't want to attract undue attention. Did I mention there's a dress code?

I've lost another 2 pounds. Whee! This is taking too long. Saturday I binged because we found out Isabel didn't get into the charter school. I am so apprehensive about putting her in public schools. I know I am too overprotective, I am worried about Isabel being bullied and hurt the way I was that I probably go overboard. It's also just kindergarten. I need to mellow out.

Things you may not know about Isabel Corley

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 02:16:20 GMT

..and really, you should.

Her favorite color is green. Her favorite food is chicken fingers/strips. Her favorite TV show is SpongeBob SquarePants. Her favorite singer is Johnny Cash (no really). Her favorite song is Folsom Prison Blues. Her favorite movie is the Little Mermaid. Her favorite book is Clifford Takes a Bath, because she can read it (she has it memorized). When Isabel grows up, she wants to be a paleontologist who works with copralites (aka fossilized dinosaur poop). She also wants to be an astronaut, a teacher, a voice actor, and a superhero. Her superhero alter ego is Lady Thunder, whose powers are akin to Storm's. Her best friend's name is Ben. She has two enemies at preschool, Colby and Camden, both of whom she feared would throw her valentine in her face today and laugh at her. Her favorite game to play is Hide and Seek. Her other alter ego is Big Spring Peeper, a frog who lives in Mythical Creature Land(tm). She is afraid of escalators and thunderstorms. She can write her own name, but ends up looking like Izdbel.

I really like my daughter. She's learning to be sympathetic and kind, as well as funny and extremely outgoing. I think as long as she never falls into the crowd of mindless, idiotic girls, she will be an interesting person to know.

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 04:17:19 GMT

I'm paging through the August 1968 Daily Oklahoman archive, and the Who was here. That's pretty awesome. I think my dad was in the VA Hospital mental ward at that point, though. Oklahoma was even more lame-o and reactionary in 1968. People were getting excited and keyed up at George Wallace being here.

So I was a good girl yesterday and spent nine hours working at the library. Today, I was a bad girl and am just now finishing up my homework. But I'm drinking some crappy coffee in my totally awesome Monk mug. I love that show.

Isabel is now addicted to computer games. Like mother, like daughter. Michael loves his Wii too much. He's going to be marrying it in a ceremony on 13 June. And I think the last sentence shows I need to slow down on the coffee.

Someone summed up the 2008 election very well on one of my favorite blogs...

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 15:37:33 GMT

Cancer. Rabies. Cancer. Rabies.

I just can't make up my mind.