A Smattering of Favorite Moments

I jumped out of an airplane for my 30th birthday. This was an experience, make no mistake, especially since I’m completely phobic about flying. How then do I fly all over you ask? Simple. XANAX! Anyway I was just Facebook chatting with an old high school friend (shout out Jimmy). I was saying that as I exited the plane I thought “this was not a good idea.” And he said, “yea, but I bet you count it as one of your best moments.” Which got me thinking . . . I’ve had such a spectacular life. I mean really! I have a gorgeous family and the most amazing friends that I think anyone has ever had, and I’m not trying to be hyperbolic, it's really true.

I started thinking "what do I count as my greatest moments," and this is what started popping into my head:

Making Minnie Driver uncomfortable at a play in London. (I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Bryan, when you said it was her!) – 2000

Successfully saddling a horse (thank you Rachel!!). –2009

Playing a British version of Monopoly with the Nigerians we were staying with in Logos, Nigeria (that was the point we finally looked at each other and thought, “oh, we all are the same here,” up to that moment we had been eyeing each other uncertainly). –1995

FINALLY hearing my name called at graduation [from Etövös Loránd in Hungary] (I wasn’t sure until I heard it if they were really going to let me graduate) after barely surviving 16 linguistics classes, the writing of a master’s thesis, and that little business of extortion the secretary to the foreign students pulled on me at the LAST minute. –2002

Thinking and crying, "well, I'll never graduate since they want me to pay them a bribe" (to get them to accept all my general credits and to not have to take a foreign language exam, which for the entire 4 years I was there, every semester they had said they would accept and that I didn't have to take) and then hearing my dad on the phone say, "How much? I'm putting it in your account." –2002

Unexpectedly coming upon Anne Brontë’s grave with Jen while roaming around the Yorkshire Dales (it would have been even more sublime if it had been Charlotte’s grave—but I’m not complaining, much). –2000

Landing in Europe for the first time, granted it was only a layover in Brussels on the way to Africa, but still it was Europe and I was there. –1995

Singing, completely abandondly, with Jeni, Julie, and Karen, while Karen's parents played dulcimers. –2005

Being hopelessly lost on the streets of Venice—that’s seriously Magical! –2005

At a birthday party for a Hungarian friend, looking around, and realizing I was the only American among Hungarians, Nigerians, Cypriots, South Africans, and Australians. (kind of a sequel to the monopoly one. I absolutely love when tons of cultures all come together and form a new community!) –hmmm 2003, maybe

Meeting Alida, Jason, and Andi at the train station, as they passed through Budapest, to pass off a video and then being convinced (correction: dared!) by Alida and Andi to jump on the train (I was moneyless, phoneless, id-less), skip class the next day, and go back to Miskolc (2 hours away) to watch the Sting: Behind the Music tape Jason’s parents had just sent them. (It’s a very dangerous feeling [the next day-riding back] to be in a foreign land, where your ability to communicate is basically nil, riding a train without anything to help you should you miss your stop.) –hmmm, 2000 or 2001

Landing in Australia the first time and feeling that overwhelming sense of camaraderie from everyone I met. We were all on the same team, I didn't know what we were playing, life perhaps, but we were winning. –2005

Trying, with Julie, to read a Midsummer Night’s Dream with British accents by the River Avon in Stratford Upon Avon, laughing hysterically, and switching to southern accents. “Ill met by moonlight fair Titania.” “What, jealous Oberon?” –1995

At the opera house in Hungary watching a completely inexplicable opera by Wagner, while Jen “translated” the German for me. Oh did the other boxes cast us disapproving glances! It was the entrance of the dinosaur while the Klingons in big boots were belting out their song that really pushed things over the top. –1999, maybe

Standing at the rail of the boat with Katrina on the way from Athens to Kos as we prayed over our ouzo bottle containing our pact, and then tossing it out into the Agean Sea (not anywhere near enough of our pact has come to pass, but it was a marvelous moment). –2004

Hiking up to the top of that “mountain” in Norway with Katrina and Stian, and cooking out on the little grill Stian had lugged up there, while listening to the tinkling of the bells on the sheep that were even higher up. –2004

Going in the back door, and bypassing all the security, at Versailles with Alida and Ildi. (the memory of you guys flashing your entrance passes at the other tourist who was trying to get out is CLASSIC). –1998

Sitting outside in Newcastle with Katrina and Stian drinking mint tea from her tea set from Jordan and enjoying other Jordanian treats, and talking and talking. –2009

Sitting, exhausted, in the marble, chandelier decorated McDonalds in Budapest after bussing back from Romania, while Edo and Krisztina got our food. When they came, laughing, back to the table, I was so keenly aware of how much I loved my life at that moment. –2003

The way Krisztina would plop down on my bed, very late at night, as I would be trying to fall asleep, in spite of my constant insomnia, and say, “Wait, don’t go to sleep yet, we haven’t even chatted. What happened today?”

Belly lauging with Jen and Lídia in the tiny back portion of the school café that was semi smoke free.

Thirsty Thursdays with Rachel and Michelle.

Riding horses with my dad.

Taco Casa stops on the way to SawGrass.

The many delightful cups of coffee and pastries with Alida, Andi, Ildi, and Jen.

Hearing all the latest fascinating things Jen, Heather, and Katrina have discovered.

All the moments involving twinkly fairy lights.

All the glorious dance floor, backyard, lounge room dancing that has been danced around the world.

Being overwhelmed to the point of tears when I was little over how lucky I was to have such a great family. I couldn't figure out what I had done to deserve that from God.

Fifteen billion little, seemingly inconsequential moments when, surrounded by brilliant family-friends and/or brilliant scenery, I thought, “I’m really happy right now.”

This doesn’t even come close to all the great moments, which means, basically, I’ve been the luckiest girl to ever live. It’s good to remember that, because I may also be the most spoiled girl to ever live, meaning I often forget my luckiest girl status.

Australia, how I love thee...

I'm in Australia (Newcastle to be specific; lower right-hand side).

I'm really wishing I had one of my euphoria pills, and that I didn't possess any of the scruples that would prevent me from using it simply for it's side effects. (In case you haven't read my April 14 and 15 post, I'm not a total drug head; there is a completely innocent explanation.) My longing for said euphoria pill has nothing to do with a lack of euphoria; I'm more naturally euphoric than I have been in years . . . well, probably since the last time I was in Australia (summer 2005). I really just want that marvellously prolific-writing side effect the pill induced, because I’m chock full of thoughts and impressions and experiences, but not the focus or motivation to get them out.

I absolutely love Australia and for so many reasons. They get all jumbled in my head and trip and tangle up in each other when I try to think them out. I never use to really think that much about Australia. England was always my obsession. (And still is to a great degree), but Australia completely surprised and enchanted me the first time I came.

It's so familiar in many ways. While we aren't the same culture, we are more alike than not, and the differences are fascinating and fun. It fools you by making you feel settled in and on familiar ground, and then it totally surprises you with how unique it is. I love that. Each morning I get woken up by magpies with their fascinating calls. The trees, many of which we don't have in the Northern hemisphere, are full of parrots. Parrots! Like the serious kind. The red and blue headed kind. There's a pair that whistle and gibberish to each other each morning outside my window.

Flocks of cockatoos fly over, and there have been two black cockatoos, which are huge, sitting up in Katrina's tree breaking off limbs with their beaks. Limbs, not twigs, limbs. When they first flew up on Friday Katrina said, "Do you hear them? Don't they sound prehistoric?" I imagine they sound roughly like what a pterodactyl probably sounded like.

I love it; I love the familiarity, while simultaneously being shocked by how unfamiliar and wild it is. And we aren't even in the outback, just the suburbs, the wild Australian suburbs.

(so the above photos are all stolen, of course. i only just got my luggage this afternoon after waiting for SIX days, but hopefully i can get some real shots soon.)

A Tale of Two Drugs

I have some new insight into why my last blog and all my facebooking on Tuesday came so effortlessly, in fact, so joyously. There was nothing in the world I wanted to do more than write, chat, muse. Already I’m finding the writing of this blog and subsequent replies to all my Tuesday correspondence a bit harder. It isn’t in the least that I don’t want to communicate, I do, but with a chemical free brain I just find it so much harder.

So I posted that I was given a new pain pill to replace my old marvelous one that made me totally pain free typically in one dose, occasionally two. The new one I got did not work nearly so well. I took the first one at 1 AM, after which I never went back to sleep. It lowered the pain enough to survive, but didn’t get rid of it, at all. However I did feel mentally very on. And this is why:

Side effects
Commonly reported side effects for butalbital include:

• Dizziness


• Drowsiness


• Intoxicated feeling


• Light-headedness


• Euphoria


• Addiction


• Severe impairment of judgement

I’d again like to highlight the two that really made Tuesday special: Intoxicated feeling and Euphoria, which translated into a most delightful time spent on the computer and watching TV. Usually if I watch TV for too many hours in a row I start feeling depressed. Many people have thought this quirk insane, but it’s true. However Tuesday I actually commented to myself, “I’m in pain, but I feel great. I could watch TV all day. I could watch TV and write emails ALL DAY!”

The bottle said not to exceed 6 pills in 24 hours. Well in 12 hours I’d had 7 (this could have been the "severe impairment of judgement" side effect kicking in). I was having a very hard time walking straight, speaking coherently, or putting my glasses on without poking my eye out. I called the pharmacist to discuss the dosing.

Me: I just need to know how serious this don’t exceed clause is?
Pharmacist: Quite serious.
Me: But I’ve had the max dose and there are a great many hours till I can go to the doctor tomorrow. When this wears off I’m going to be in serious pain, emergency room pain.
Pharmacist: If you exceed the dosage you will be in the emergency room.
Me: ....
Pharmacist: I suggested you go ahead and go to the emergency room now.
Me: ....I’ve been awake since 1 AM; it has no bearing on anything, I just feel the need to say that.
Pharmacist: I think you should go to the emergency room.

He was very lovely.

Rachel called me on her way home from work and I broke the news that I might need her to take me to the emergency room. It should be stated that it was also Jared (her husband’s) birthday. She, without hesitation, agreed. They are both very, very good roommates!

We chose an urgent care place over an emergency room. I think it was a good call. I took my old empty bottle of pills that used to work and my new full bottle of pills that didn’t work, at least not in the way I needed them to.

Nurse: This old medicine was for stomach pain, ulcers, etc. This new one is for headaches and it has caffeine.
Me (light dawning): I’ve been awake since 1 AM.
Nurse: I don’t want to speak badly about another doctor...but...
Me: I’ve been awake since 1 AM

(I’ve never fully understood why you have to tell your story twice. Once to the nurse who you think is maybe the doc, and who after you’ve poured out your heart and feel somewhat connected to, says, “Okay, the doctor will be in in a few.” Then you have to tell it all over again. I’m usual tired the second go round and leave stuff out.)

Doctor: So what’s going on with you?
Me: My stomach hurts and I’ve been awake since 1 AM.
Doctor: This medicine is for headaches and it has caffeine.
Me: I know.
Doctor: I don’t want to speak badly about another doctor...but...
Me: I know.
Doctor: Here is a prescription for a pain pill that’s actually for your stomach.
Me: I’m so tired.
Doctor (patting me on the knee): This will help.

And it did. The new, new drug works WAY better; but I must be honest, while I don’t miss the pain or insomnia, I do miss the euphoria; that was nice.

p.s. I will be making an appointment with a GI doctor very soon...and I promise not to blog about it.

Non-readers Beware

It's 2:42 A.M.; I'm awake and my mind is roaming wide plains of thought, and so I anticipate a wildly stream-of-conscious blog. The first roam being that the use of pen and paper has become, in my life, highly obsolete, resulting in an odd clenching of my entire arm and hand as I write. I have an absolute death grip on this pen. And yes that means this was first a hand written blog entry, because its 2:44 A.M. and I've heard that the light from a computer, much like that of a TV and hand-held video game (another option I considered), interrupts the cardia rhythm, which is entirely the wrong term. But word on the insomnia street is that those lights are decidedly bad for inducing sleep.

The reason I'm awake at this awful hour is because my stomach is killing me, and by stomach I don't mean the euphemismly vague catch all term of stomach, but the actual organ located here (I did write that on paper in anticipation of a google image search):

I had/have (?) H.pylori. You can get it in America, but my stomach pain seems to date back to sometime after a trip to Mexico (94 or 95 ?). And it's pretty much the worst pain in the world (at least my world) and I've had malaria.

It's panic-inducing pain; a pain that I've always been certain ought to kill me. I've thought, one can't be in this much pain and continue to be alive. At its worst it feels like a creature, made of fire, trying to eat it's way out of my stomach (yes, think Aliens). I actually passed out a couple of times, but I think I was just hyperventilating.

I saw an ER epi once about a severely burned guy. His breathing got really odd and the docs ran around trying to figure out what was wrong and toyed with the idea of intubating (any ER fans notice how in every epi at least one patient was intubated?). (Okay, I've no idea if that's actually how the scene played out, but I'm going with it.) My memory is vague but I think the dialogue ran thusly:

doc 1: He's hyperventilating.
nurse 1/intern doc 1: Why?
doc 1: He's in so much pain.

Anyway that's this kind of pain, well not right now since I'm able to write out a blog, but that's the kind of pain this can become. I used to have an absolutely beautiful, divine, sent from heaven pain pill that nipped it in the bud, but I recently ran out and when I went to have it refilled, discovered that it's been taken off the market because of adverse side effects; like what, sweet relief?! There's nothing to take it's place, so the doc gave me a dif pain pill, and since I took it two hours ago and I'm still awake and my stomach still hurts, I'm going to say it's not sent from heaven.

So with that monstrously long disclaimer on why I'm awake, at now 3:04 A.M. I'll move off this old lady ramble of ailments and drugs.

I need a new phone with a higher pixel camera, or, here's a thought, I could keep my actual camera on me at all times. I took this pic many months ago. You can't tell, but there's a fawn outside the window (I wanted to write baby fawn, but that's rather redundant):

This is roughly what it looked like. (I stole this off the internet).

Where I work I frequently see wildlife. I've seen a doe, rabbits (personal fav), chipmunks (another personal fav), turkey, and the fawn. I feel like a Disney character, except I can't sing and these animals run from me rather than help me clean my humble, yet homey, cottage in the forest. But anyway, I stopped my car so I could just bask in its little fawn sweetness. This was a bad idea as that meant stopping here:

I nearly caused a three car pileup; embarrassingly, all three were coworkers.

Coworker 1: I thought your car had broken down.
Me: There was a fawn.
Coworker 2: I almost plowed into the back of coworker 1.
Me: There was a fawn.
Coworker 2 (as Coworker 3 silently looks on): That was a really bad idea.
Me: But there was a fawn. A FAWN!

I later told Jen, who really is a Disney character. She can sing; and once, we visited a sheep farm and while they wouldn't come within a mile of me, they were draped across her lap looking languidly and adoringly up at her.

Me: (fawn story)
Jen: It was alone?
Me (sensing she has made a keen and undesirable observation): Yes. It was just on the edge of the woods.
Jen: That's not good; it shouldn't have been alone. That means something happened to it's mother.
Me: ....oh, that really changes my feelings about this story.

Months and months later, while carpooling with Rachel, we were recounting all the animals we've seen driving up to the building. The fawn story came up and she said, "Oh yea, I saw that fawn too. I called animal control since it was alone." (the good animal control, the kind that takes sweet, abandoned fawns and rehabilitates them, resulting in email chains of little fawns curled up with the center's cat, dog, or rabbit, as the case may be).

So, Jen, I don't believe I ever told you the ending to this story, but it's a happy one...I think...I hope.

I doubt anyone is still reading this; it's WAY too long, but I've tried to throw in pics for today's word-adverse society.

So my tum still hurts, my mind's still roaming, and my death-grip-clenched hand's spasming; I think I'll just stare at the ceiling for a bit, and/or rummage through my drugs and see what other treats I can find.

"Adieu, to you and you and you." (My fav movie)

Well, except for this one:

And this one:

And this one:

And:

(I hate that they didn't make a sequel. I LOVED the gothic feel to this. It was visual amazing!)

So anyway, Sound of Music is "one of the top thirty [movies] of our time. Anyway, at least." (a nod to, yes, another top fav)

For real, I'm done.

(shoutouts: Google earth; random internet images; copyright infringement; photoshop; Samsung camera phone; wikipedia, which all my copyediting friends will scoff at, with good reason; stong barbiturates, even when they don't quite remove the pain they still make you chatty)