Momentous events

It's been an up and down couple of days, around here...

We used to have a morale committee at work - it was called the Fish committee, and when someone went above and beyond in their job, they were rewarded with these little paper fish. People wrote something nice about what you had done on the front of it, and you were supposed to collect them and turn them in for different amounts of cash, days off with pay, etc. I questioned once what happened to the fish after you turned them in. I had become a bit attached to my fish, you see... Sometimes I form sentimental attachments to things. I don't know why, I have just always been this way. At any rate, the management kept your fish after they were redeemed. Most likely because they didn't want people to turn theirs in twice. When they told me this, I decided to keep my fish and turn them in on my last day. Not even out of rebellion, really - it's just that things like that cheer me up when I'm not feeling too hot.

The dream ended two weeks ago - the management decided that the program must go. They said it wasn't for economic reasons, but I don't think I buy it. We were asked to turn in all of our fish by the end of the day if we wanted to redeem our cash. I had a stockpile of 49 - by far the most, since everyone else in the company actually turned theirs in on a regular basis. Our secretary, who loves me, prevented them from being thrown away. She snagged them for me and now they're back at my desk, in their rightful place.

I did net some nice cash, that day... and I did have to purchase a small electronic device with it. My review of the ipod touch is that it is fabulous. It's really an insanely useful tool, and it looks good, too. I get so happy over electronics... almost as attached as I get to pieces of paper... This summer, hopefully BA (Before Arizona), I am hoping to visit my storage. I think I might have some notes from the 7th grade - stay tuned, it's likely to be a good story...

And now the not so fabulous news. I was standing around talking to my IT guy at work yesterday, when I heard a noise and looked over my shoulder to see what it was. As I did this, I felt something shift in my knee. Nothing alarming, not a huge amount of pain, just a little shift. I though it would work itself out. By about quitting time, however, I knew I was in trouble. I wasn't walking right at all, so I came home and iced myself. All night, actually. When I got up this morning, I yelled when my foot touched the floor. I don't yell very often, and I think I might have scared Jazz. Anyway, I did call the doctor and make an appointment for 11am tomorrow. I talked to his assistant, who told me it is something that I might have to just live with. I briefly wondered if he would like to live with my shoe embedded in his midsection... but then again, since I can neither bend my knee nor straighten it without a great amount of pain, it is unlikely that my aim would be that great. I hope the doctor has better news. If he doesn't, I'm getting a second opinion. Life is too short to spend it in pain! And there are still so many things I want to do - I need knees.

In other news, I'm meeting with a professor Thursday to talk about the phD program at UNO. I am excited by this. Also, Wednesday is the season finale of LOST - the only show I ever watch in prime time.

I will post further on all of these things! Night...

Back from the dead!

The semester has finally ended. I would insert a "thank God" here, but since I'm not good with the great big floating parent in the sky idea, I suppose it would not apply. Nevertheless, I am now free to spend my time in whatever way I see fit. At this moment, this means sitting on the couch with Jazz, who is patiently awaiting the moment when this computer will shut down and I can finally pay her the amount of attention that she considers appropriate. FYI, she really likes a lot of attention.

The semester threw me a couple of curve balls. First, there was the business that I was building with a fellow student. We spent so much time on it that I decided about four hours of sleep was sufficient. I was wrong incidentally. Then, when I got bronchitis (most likely a result of my sleep schedule) we decided to stop the business plans for a while. Then my business partner fell off the face of the Earth, and then he just decided not to call me any more. This kind of sucked, especially because in the middle of it I had knee surgery. As a result of the surgery, I have a new appreciation for my good health, a new motivation to move someplace warm, with less rain than we have here (arthritis is no fun) and a realization that Vicadin makes me a bit bitchy. I recovered from the surgery in time to catch up my school work and finish the semester (I got an A and an A minus).

On the positive side, I learned a hell of a lot about myself and what I want from my future. The cool thing about getting a bit older is that when gigantic wastes of time present themselves, it's quite a bit easier to say no. One of my classes (the A minus class) was just awful. It was for my Management of Information Systems degree, and it was a foundation course I was required to take because I have no formal computer background. Unfortunately, it was an undergraduate weed-out class, basically designed so that students would do badly and decide not to go into that field. One main professor wrote the syllabus, and his students taught each of the sections. I think the greatest thing I learned was how to communicate with people that are only comfortable a) writing code and b) playing video games in their mother's basements. Seriously. My instructor would clearly rather have been boiled in oil than to explain the slides he read to us every week. He was a nice guy, but I needed a teacher. When I asked him questions, I generally got this deer in the headlights look - he was one of those guys to whom code just made sense the first time. He couldn't answer my questions, because he'd personally never had any questions.

So. I will find a way to proceed while getting what I need. Armed with the right information, I'm generally successful. I was having a conversation with my advisor the other night, and she suggested that instead of the dual MPA/MIS degree, that I get a phD in Public Admin with a focus in MIS. I could feel my ego inflating. (It's just like feeling your arteries hardening, but completely different.) Anyway, I am going to start investigating this possibility next week. I'm not at all worried about the class work, but I am worried about how I would handle the financial parts of it. I would have to function on about half of my current income. Which might suck tremendously. Will revamp your computer processes for food...

In other news, my right knee has now begun to hurt in much the same manner as my left knee did before the surgery. Good health insurance is insanely cool. Also, if I am headed for knee replacement of one or both knees, then I will finally fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming RoboRJ. (Alternatively, I could become the LesBionic Woman, but I don't look a thing like Lindsay Wagner.) It's been raining a lot here lately too, which may be adding to my difficulties. It makes me think of Arizona, to which I will be travelling soon - I'm pretty sure I'll be OK there, at least for the weekend!!

Dude. That's enough for now, I think... I look forward to blogging more often. It's time to play the guitar a little bit, now. My fall back career has always been rock star, so I'm going to work on that for a few minutes. Night, y'all.

Controversy

It's been a while since I've blogged, but I felt I needed to gather my thoughts on this one.

October, 1998. A bunch of us were sitting around between classes, burning some time. Someone came in and said that Matthew Shepard had died. I really didn't follow the news, so I didn't know what was going on. Then someone told the story of what had happened to him. If you don't remember, Matthew was beaten, robbed and strung up on a fence, left for dead. The two boys that did it felt their actions were justified because Matthew was gay.

The people around me seemed to want to talk to me about it, but I just couldn't. In fact, I had to go stand outside in the sunlight for a while. It was difficult to wrap my brain around the image of that kid dying the way that he did. Even worse was the knowledge that the two boys that murdered him felt they were perfectly justified. After all, God hates queers, right?

I had come out about a year before. It was a difficult process. Telling other people was the easiest part, actually - and most of my friends already knew. Telling myself was hard. It meant I needed to drastically revise many of the dreams I had for my future. I don't think I ever really wanted a picket fence, but I would have settled for some kind of normalcy.

The trade-off was that I finally knew the truth about who I was, and it was a relief. I had been walking around, feeling as if some part of me was disconnected. After I came out, I felt like a part of humanity again. I found a group of gays to hang around with, and I didn't feel so different all of the damn time.

The day that Matthew died, I became aware that there are people who would be willing to hurt me, if they knew I was gay. I really hadn't thought about it before. But there it was, right in front of me. Since that time, I have been exposed to many people that don't think I have a right to exist, much less get married. The Gay Pride parade here in Omaha (not exactly gay Mecca) always draws some protesters. I've been screamed at, spit at, and condemned to a Hell I don't believe in, in the name of a deity I also don't believe in, by people I don't even know. What do I do in those moments? Smile and tell them that their God will forgive them for being so judgmental. And then their heads just about explode.

Iowa joined the ranks of states that consider me a whole human being last Friday. It made me proud of my home state. The atmosphere these last few years has been riddled with fear. The idea that it's ok to hate certain kinds of people has been especially pervasive, and that's scary for someone like me. It made me a little moist around the eyeballs to hear that withholding rights from a group of people is unconstitutional. It has never been my belief that the people who founded our country wanted church and state to be close friends.

When we were kids, my older sister and I never wanted to play with our younger sister (we were crappy like that). Mom would always tell us that we had to play with her, so we would let her be in the same room with us, but we wouldn't acknowledge her. (I know. Awful. I assure you, I've made amends for all this.) Whenever I hear about new legislation barring gay people from having the same rights as straight people, I am reminded of those episodes with my sister. Our hope was that she wouldn't want to play with us, and would leave us alone. To me, this is the same tactic, twenty-five years later. If we don't acknowledge the gays, maybe they'll just go away. If we treat them as if they're illegitimate and unwanted, they'll get the hell out of our hair.

I have news. This tactic has worked for a number of years, but it is failing. The gay people I meet today are different than the gays I met ten years ago. We are no longer willing to believe that we are less than our straight friends. About a year and a half ago, I officiated at the wedding of a couple of dear friends of mine. In Nebraska, where people like me don't count. These women got married because they love each other, and for no other reason. It was the most beautiful wedding I have ever attended. The brides don't believe me, because they didn't have any money and ended up renting the Paralyzed Veterans of America gym for the afternoon.

That said, I wish we had focused on equal rights instead of marriage rights. No matter what happens with the marriage rights, it is still perfectly legal to fire me in 30 states out of 50 because I am gay. Housing discrimination is also perfectly legal in many states, in fact Nebraska wrote it into their books just a few years ago.

It is late, and my soapbox is creaking, so I'll get off. It was good to get that out - it's been rolling around in my head for days. more stories another day - happy ones, I promise.

Just before midnight

I had an excellent Spring Break. Saw Brandy - which is always a good time. We made plans for a trip this summer, she removed offensive pink rhinestones from a shirt I can now take out of my closet and wear, we savored rehab cheesecake together. We also looked for dating possibilities for me online - no luck as of yet. (Will report further as events warrant.) I also spent quite a bit of time studying this weekend, trying to catch up from my recent bout of illness. I even came up with a new way to study for my upcoming test - I started recording myself reading my notes out loud. I'd post the recording, but it's so utterly fascinating that I might attract stalkers.

Then, out of the blue, I decided to check out my grades online and found that one of my instructors had posted another assignment, due the same day that I was taking my make-up test. Sweet.

It's a huge one, too. I made some arrangements to get some help with it, and he's working with me on other things, as well. I really have no room to complain. I have made a decision though - that six hours of sleep a night thing is here to stay. Being sick really sucked, and I don't want to repeat it.

In other news - I return to the knee doctor next month to see if I have to have surgery. There's a divot in my kneecap, dear Liza...

Also, even though I am in school hell, I know that none of this is going to matter in a few months. I will be traveling to the desert in the summertime (yay!) to get together with fabulous friends. I smile about this several times a day.

That's all for now - going to bed!

I must've spent too long outside...

Welcome to the latest edition of RJ's Midnight Blogging Service...
Tonight, a story of illness. I don't know how I got sick. I didn't hang out with anyone this weekend except for Jazz. My dog and I are close, but not that close, you understand. So, apparently I contracted a vile illness at some point. At approximately 8:15 am on Monday I started coughing. Not regular coughing, but this out-of-breath wheezing hack that made me wonder whether I was going to make it or not. I could feel my vocal cords swelling. It was quite a treat. Suddenly, about mid-afternoon, I discovered my next source of pain - I'd coughed so hard that I threw my back out.

Oh, yeah. If that doesn't make you feel cool, then nothing will.

I set about making an appointment with my chiropractor, who knows my back well, and then one of my co-workers gently suggested that I consult a GP as well. She said that if I didn't get the cough fixed, then I was likely to throw it out again. Sure, if you want to use the logical approach. Trouble is, I haven't had a GP in years. Why, you ask? I'm afraid of doctors. Isn't that funny? Some part of me is convinced that I'm going to get some crappy advice, and I would rather have no direction than bad direction. Also, I've always just gone to Midwest Minor Medical, or a place like that. Anyway, I finally made the phone call. To the utter shock of my co-workers, who have been trying to get me to do this for three years.

I paid a visit to Mikala Albertson the next day. It was much less threatening than I imagined. No needles were involved (another item on my greatest fear list). She said I had bronchitis. This was a bit funny to me. My mother had always told me that both my sisters had bronchitis, but that I was just fine. A few years ago, when my sisters and I compared notes about famous Mom statements, our various medical histories came up as a topic. It seems that the details regarding the different ailments that we were all supposed to have (or not supposed to have) were a bit fuzzy. We all decided to write on future medical forms the statement "your guess is as good as mine" and just start fresh.

The doc and I got on pretty well. She ended up taking me on as a regular patient - poor girl. She doesn't know what she's gotten into. So now I'd like to introduce you to my two new (non-human) best friends. Meet:


The Inhaler!!

And..

The IcePack!!

Tiny superheroes, fighting illness at every turn and leaping tall buildings in a single bound. (So I'm told. Haven't actually witnessed that for myself yet.) A bit like Ozzie and Drix (see Brandy for an explanation of that.)

Here is a shot of what I've been doing this evening:

The Computer, the LOST, and The Corrective Shoes!

Actually, it was a pretty fabulous night. It's been a long time since I could just drool and watch TV. I'm so into going to school, creating the business, going to my 40 hour, and everything else that I've been missing the scenery along the way. The doc did point out that sleep is a great defense against illness - I guess that seems logical...

Things that are hard to do when your back is out:

Play ball with the dog.

The Jazz! No relation to Utah.

She enjoys setting her collection of toys on the floor, just beyond my reach. I have yet to decide if this is intentional.

Well, that's it for tonight. Slight complaining aside, I am enjoying getting older. Mostly because I never thought I'd live this long! Enjoy~~ will post again soon.

Today was the day...

Today was the first day this year that I have been able to stand outside for thirty continuous seconds without bolting for my car. I look forward to this day every year. Today, when I opened my front door, I did not hunch over and run to my vehicle. It was nice, I won't lie. Spring makes me happy. It also makes my friends happy, because they get a break from my constant input about how people shouldn't have to live like this. Baseball will be showing soon, which is another boon to my existence. There's something comforting about a game that you can turn on, fall asleep on the couch for an hour or so, then wake up and have missed nothing. Pitching fascinates me - I don't know why. I don't play sports. The closest I ever came to joining a sport was throwing shotput in my senior year, and I think I did that just to get out of the house. Suffice to say that the venture was indeed unsuccessful. At any rate, tomorrow I might try one full minute outside the car. I'll report back on my progress.

Random story here:
This was about four years ago. My sister Rochelle and her husband took me out for my birthday. We went to Village Point, which is Omaha's answer to the Plaza in Kansas City. We went to dinner, and then we saw Rent, a musical that had been turned into a film. I had never seen the musical, but given its wild popularity, I figured the movie might be good. I was wrong. Some movies are just boring, some movies are so dumb that you can feel your IQ dropping, but Rent really lowered the standards to a whole new level. It was so bad that the three of us laughed the entire way through. It was that kind of giggle that is usually frowned upon in public places. In fact, there were many that did not share our mirth. (I think I'm trying to say that we were annoying.) At any rate, we retired to the lobby to wait for my sister to make a pit stop. At this point in the story, two things become very important. The first is that I was slowly recovering from a very bad cough. I generally only visit a health professional when there is a true emergency, like a gushing head wound. The second pertinent fact is that between fits of giggling during the movie, I had consumed almost an entire box of Hot Tamales. A great big box. I love Hot Tamales, but I have loved them a little less since that day.
We started giggling about the movie again, and before I knew it, I started to cough as well. My brother in law stood there, patting my back, and then I began to cough so hard that the Hot Tamales began to make an encore appearance. When I realized what was happening, I made a herculean effort to stop coughing - and then I caught a glance at Brad. He took one look at me, and RAN for some napkins - apparently he thought I was bleeding to death. At that point, I cough-laughed so hard that I had to sit down on the floor for a while. Brad was not quite as amused.

That's it for now - more random stories later!

I guess you can go home again...

This fabulous post is made possible by my dear friend Brandy. I visited Brandy and Co. last night for dinner. She found me a couple of weeks ago through Facebook, and it's been a pleasure to reconnect with a wonderful friend. (I almost said an old friend, but I took it back at the last minute - I felt that the statement might have repercussions.) I haven't seen Brandy for a number of years (have been asked not to mention how many), but with some people, it always seems that time is irrelevant. I got to meet all of the family members, including some extended family that were there for dinner. Cheeseburger soup is excellent, by the way... Chelle also made a lemon chiffon cake that was entirely scrumptious. It's unusual for me to eat cake at all, let alone eat it and like it!

I arrived late, of course. The house is a bit remote for a city girl, and on top of needing to turn around for my forgotten cell phone, I might have missed a few turns along the way. This all adds to my case for the new GPS that I feel I should purchase. (Who do I think I am building a case for, anyway? It's just me - unless you count the voices. Which they insist that I do.) At any rate, the snowy country roads reminded me of the way to Mom's house. I remember that when I lived in Missouri Valley, it was like an intersection in the middle of a corn field. There is a stop light - and a Kum n Go (we had other names for that convenient store, as highschoolers). The small town atmosphere is just not for me, much to my grandmother's chagrin, but it turns out it's OK to visit.

The tour of the house did not reveal any Baghdad areas (I did look, Shawna). They certainly have done a lot of work to the place, as the before and after photos revealed. The kids are awesome. 411 made me a picture on the computer. The following is the same picture, now up on my Refrigerator Gallery:


Another masterpiece. I look forward to more... I do have room!

The kids played the Wii, and we caught up. Then the kids fell asleep watching a movie, and we caught up some more. They were still sleeping when we poison tested the chocolate truffle cheesecake at 4:30 in the morning. Poisonless, if you were wondering. I headed home at five am, complete with the new piece of art and a number of emotional attachments.

If you know Brandy, then you know this. It is no wonder that the life she has made is so beautiful. Some people are born to greatness, and some people make it with their own two hands. I still look up to her, after all these years, and I'm grateful that she found me.

Mike may regret his invitation to visit anytime - particularly during camping season. Which just has to begin soon - right?? Last year I went camping in April because I just couldn't wait. But I won't do that again, because I still can't quite feel my pinky toes...

I must also mention that there was an empty chair - belonging to Shawna, of course. My best memories of my time in Iowa are all memories of the three of us, and Shawna was certainly missed.

Enough mush! Actually, it is quite therapuetic to write these. That must be why so many people do it. I actually had a bit of a tough day, and it really helped to reconnect with good stuff before I fell asleep. I look forward to posting more - possibly less sentimental, but I can't promise.