Medication Resentment

I have to say that I resent having to take anti-depressants. I found out...after I had been on them for two months...that you are supposed to stay on them for a year! I was pissed! I don't know if I would have started if I had known that. And now I have to go to another doctor, dish out another co-pay, just to manage this medication. I resent that even more.

I end up lashing out by "forgetting" to take my medication. I do it on the regular. I remember to feed Ella her post-op medications, but I don't take mine. I know this only harms myself, but every time I pop a pill, I'm reminded that I'll have to do this for at least eight more months. Grrrrr....

The Death of a Friendship

So, I had to say goodbye to a friend last weekend. It wasn't handled in the healthiest way, but I did say stuff that I had swallowed for a long time...and that felt good. I'm sad, but I don't think I'm going to miss her. I feel a little like a bitch for saying that, but my therapist believes I need to become more in touch with my protective warrior goddess within. Apparently, the warrior goddess is a real bitch.

Basically, I had to stop being her friend because she displays some of the same narcissistic tendencies that Ex did. The same behaviors that traumatized me. They were harder to recognize because she was a friend, but the effects were the same.

Now that I've got on my corrective hindsight glasses, I can see how similar Ex and my ex-friend were. They both had a hard time committing to jobs, people, a plan...yet went from relationship to relationship. My ex-friend was a serial monogamist, but would continually cheat on her boyfriends. She would gather new friends like flowers, but would talk about them behind their backs incessantly. My purpose in our friendship was to listen to her dish on her sexual exploits, how much in love she was with a different dude each week, how overwhelmed she felt by school and life...as if she was the only one who struggled.

The last straw came when she and I met up last weekend. We had not seen each other in over seven months because she is studying abroad. We hung out for a couple of hours in the afternoon and not once did she ever ask me how I was...not once. Not a how are you?, a are you feeling better?, not even a how's work?. I specifically listened for any clue that she was interested in me at all. She knew what a hard time I had gone through this fall and winter. Instead, she attempted to make me feel special by repeating "I have so much to tell you!" and going on and on about how she doesn't know what to do with her life. There was a time when that would have worked, but it didn't anymore.

She had done a few other things in the past that really upset me, but she was always excellent at avoiding dealing with things and making one feel like it was for the best.

This time, after several days of feeling like I was relapsing, I told her about herself. I wasn't as forthright as I wanted to be...my warrior goddess is not very strong yet. I sent her an email explaining that I was hurt by her disregard and that her pattern of behavior towards me needs to be addressed. However, since she and Ex are so similar, I know that I'm never going to hear from her again. She can't get her fix of it's all about you anymore, so I'm going to be discarded the way Ex discarded me.

I'm not heartbroken by this at all...in fact, I'm proud of taking care of myself by expressing my discontent. I do feel a bit guilty for my nonchalance, but not enough to change a damn thing.

One for the warrior goddess.

Four...It's The Magic Number

I've been tagged! I feel so special! I've never been asked to do something like this before, and tuckergurl asked me, so I'm very happy. Here goes!

Four Jobs I've Had
1. Intern at Oddfellow's Playhouse - When I was in college, I interned at this children's theatre for several seasons. I was proud of myself for volunteering while I was in school, even when I was crazy busy. The Artistic Director was crazy, but what AD isn't?

2. Cashier at the Gap Outlet - I got this job right after graduating from college to afford me the opportunity to intern at a theatre company. It made me so depressed, but my stepmom cheered me up by saying "Don't worry...your first job won't be your last job...like your father." My dad built, founded and still runs an arthouse movie theatre in Connecticut.

3. Literary Fellow at Arena Stage - That was a cool job. I dramaturged two mainstage productions, led audience talk backs, and got to know the DC theatre scene really well. I also lived in a huge rowhouse with four dudes who loved to throw parties. I loved it! To this day I think starting a theatre company in that city is something I could do.

4. Assistant at a Theatrical Agency - I won't name it because I hated that job. I was paid horribly and was surrounded by miserable, insane people. That was the only job that I was fired from in my life. When I told my friend, she responded with "Congratulations!"


Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over
1. Dirty Dancing - I cried the first time I ever saw this movie and not because it was so moving. I cried during the opening credits because I was so happy I was finally able to see this film. When Johnny and Baby finally nail the lift at the end, I cheer every time.

2. Guys and Dolls - Marlon Brando looks hotter and hotter everytime I see that movie.

3. Shawshank Redemption - This movie is always playing on local cable and I can't not watch it. I love watching how Andy Dufresne finally escapes and gives the warden his comeuppance.

4. I, Robot - I didn't think I would like this film as much as I did, but I watched twice the Christmas my mom bought it for the family and bought it for myself as soon as I could. The graphics are kick-ass.

Four Places I've Lived
1. Washington, D.C.

2. Canton, MA

3. Brooklyn, NY

4. Boston, MA

Four TV Shows I Love
1. "Law and Order" - The original is still the best.

2. "Grey's Anatomy" - It's getting good again.

3. "House" - He's so snarky...I dig him.

4. "CSI" and "Without a Trace" - That CBS Thursday night lineup is hot. I can't believe I used "CBS" and "hot" in the same sentence.

Four Places I've Vacationed
1. Marrakesh, Morrocco

2. Buenos Aires, Argentina

3. Yucatan Penisula, Mexico

4. Oranjestad, Aruba

Four Favorite Dishes
1. Chicken...anything chicken

2. My mom's maccaroni and cheese

3. Neckbones

4. Grits with hot dogs pieces mixed in...but the hot dogs had to have been really cooked, almost burnt and their skin peeled off.

Four Sites I Visit Daily
1. tuckergurl

2. Fried Catfish and Collard Greens

3. The New York Times

4. Spoke in the Wheel

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now
1. Mexico

2. Any Carribbean island

3. Spain

4. Home with Ella

Who's Next?
1. Melissa

2. Bright Eyes

3. Aphrodite

4. Kelly

This was harder than I thought.

Actually...It Was Kinda Predictable

In order to support my people, last night I tuned into Jamie Foxx: Unpredictable, the music special he did on NBC. I had gotten the email saying that the network was trying to sabotage the special because he wouldn't have white guests on it, so I figured I would make a statement, even though I don't have a Nielsen box on my TV.

I wanted to like it...I tried hard to like it. Truly, I did. He had great dancers, a PACKED house, actual live theatre with talented actors and great guests. But by 8:30pm I was flipping the channel. I want to support my people, but sometimes we have to be honest with ourselves...this special was NOT good.

1. The short theatre vignettes were bad. I mean really bad.

"He's going to be somebody, Lord. If you and I have anything to do with it, he's going to be somebody."

I felt bad for the actor who had to say that line. I actually asked out loud, Who wrote this script? Ella will tell you, she heard me. This made me really upset as a theatre person because I could see those scenes could have been interesting. Instead they were only cliche.

2. He doesn't have a big enough repetoire of songs to last an hour. I mean, his album just came out. People aren't going to be jumping out of their seats for his songs the way they do for Stevie Wonder's songs because we just don't know them.

3. The song that he did with a fake pregnant woman was ridiculous. First of all, the woman was in heels. Sarah Jessica Parker is the only pregnant woman I've ever seen in heels while being pregnant and she clearly has height issues. Secondly, the staging of that song was boring! All she did was walk around and rub her belly and Jamie just walked around her and sang. What a snooze! Thirdly...there is no thirdly. It was just a cheesy number.

4. He didn't have Kanye West there. I'm sorry, but you can't reference all the songs you did with Kanye and not actually have Kanye there. That was a misstep.

5. Mary J. Blige's mic was not as loud as Jamie's. Don't think we didn't notice that, Jamie. True, Mary's a stronger singer than Jamie...she's a stronger singer than most people...so it was really apparent during their duet that he came out sounding louder than her. And when she had her solo verse...a travesty...she was still not as loud as Jamie. That was tacky.

I guess NBC fooled us all because they are showing it again tomorrow night...so much for sabotage. I'm not going to be there...that's for sure.

Payin' It Forward

So I tried to write this post while I was in the midst of what I'm about to describe, but I couldn't wrap my brain around it. Then again, this week has been screwy on another level entirely, so that could be it to. That will be my next post.

Last weekend was a perfect example of karma. There was a time - when Ex and I were in the midst of fighting hell - that I didn't sleep in our home. Instead, I had to stay at a friend's house to cry myself to sleep. Last weekend, I returned the favor to a friend of mine. He and his partner of ten years were having major problems and I am one of the few people he knew in this fair city that had an apartment big enough to hold a long-term houseguest.

What made it awkward was that I've known this friend for years, but we're not very close. So I felt like I was trying way too hard to "entertain." Also, my friend is a Manhattan snob, and I live in a non-chi-chi part of Brooklyn. I had to stop myself for apologizing for my neighborhood...I like my neighborhood, damn it!

Overall it was fine. He did my dishes and cleaned my stove. He helped pay for groceries and bought us wine. He walked Ella when I couldn't. And I am grateful that I have an apartment large enough to offer someone a space in times of need. Karmically it felt good, even though it was a bit awkward. Ultimately though, I learned that my apartment is a big part of my mental health. I need my space to be my space. I like having houseguests, but ones with whom I feel truly comfortable.

So now my house is my own again...with a sink full of dishes.

Is it Weird that I'm Not Lonely?

For me it's very weird that I am single and not actively looking to change that fact. I've been single before...I am most definitely NOT a serial monogamist...but I've always been looking for a relationship. Wondering if the guy that I'm talking to on the subway is the ONE. But I haven't thought that way in a long time.

There are many reasons for that. First, the anti-depressant I'm taking is supposed to kill sex drive. Though mine is not dead, it is at least on life support. My libido is not guiding my actions at all anymore. Second, I have been working on filling my life with things that make me happy...see my New Year's Theme post...and that actually takes up a lot of time. I've got Ella, my piano lessons, my writing and sign language classes. Third, this medication makes me tired. Last night I fell asleep at nine pm, woke up at eleven to walk Ella, then went right back to sleep. I don't have energy to be "on the hunt." Fourth, I've traditionally been attracted to men with whom I feel unfulfilled in some way. I used to feel that not being completely happy is part of compromise. I'm sick of that. Until I trust my instinct again, I'm laying low.

To be honest, I read posts by Melissa, Sweet Aphrodite and Home Girl talking about how happy they feel to be with their respective dudes and I have a twinge of jealousy. I have exes, now friends, looking to settle down...not with me...and that's a tad upsetting. But I'm not upset enough to do anything about it. I start to think about it, I get upset, I stop thinking about it.

So this is weird for me. I'm happy, but it is definitely weird.

On another note, the painting above is entitled "Independent Woman." It's by an Israeli artist named Michal Ashkenasi. I dig her work. I found her website by using Google's image search...gotta love it! Check her out.

I Hate Money...A Rant by L. Britt

I have been plagued my entire adult life with money problems. My whole life I have been unable to balance the amount of money I make with the amount of money I spend. There was one year when I had it under control. I was using money managing software, had a budget and actually did not live paycheck-to-paycheck. Unfortunately Ex was the person who turned me on to using the software, so now I have a violent reaction everytime I try to open it. I've tried using other systems of managing my money, to no avail. I image this must be the same disappointment and frustration people who are constantly trying to diet must feel.

The problem is...I need to do something. I'm entering the umpteenth week where I'm counting down the days until payday. I hate this feeling more than almost anything. I hate that I'm so damn used to it.

One thing that makes it so bad is that I make good money...even for New York City standards. On surveys that ask for income, I can easily check the third or fourth box. My monthly living expenses only use up half to three-quarters of my monthly salary, including my mortgage. The fact that I have a mortgage should be a sign that I have my money sh*t together. I have a retirement plan that has a good chunk of money in it for only being established for a year, and I have savings. But for some reason, I'm always tapping into that savings to make it to the next payday.

To my credit, I have improved on some things. I'm paying bills on time with much more frequency than I used to. I have automatic bill pay set up for most of my monthly expenses and bill collectors don't call me anymore. I do not use credit anymore either...if I can't use my debit card, then I can't buy it. I've been turning down restaurants, social events when I know that the amount is too much, though I feel horrible when I do. All of my big debt is considered "good debt:" education loans, mortgage, etc. and all of it combined is way less than $200,000. So then why do I have nothing in my bank account right now?

Because I only get diligent about my money spending a week after payday, that's why. When payday comes I splurge...thinking I deserve spending $20 for lunch and $40 for dinner because I've been suffering all week. And I feel shame...shame that I can't handle my money better. Shame that I'm broke way more often than I should be.

I've got a dog to care for now. My dog needs to eat at least twice a day. There can be no peanut and jelly sandwiches for Ella. She'll also need a carrier and vet care. I can't not have money to care for her. I have to get my money act together or she is going to be the one to suffer. I'm looking forward to my new schedule of coming home right after work. That will greatly limit my ability to go out during the week...that's where my money goes after all.

I know intellectually what I need to do, but this speaks to a more emotional issue that I need to get a handle on. Maybe I'll start talking about it in therapy...something I've never done. That tells you something.

"Naming is a Personal Thing"

I got a great deal of suggestions from friends and family and bloggers, but in the end I followed my friend Zach's advice: I just held her and looked in her eyes and the name came to me. My dog is now called Ella Samantha. She has my last name, so I can't tell you what that is, but trust me...it has a nice ring to it. Samantha is in honor of her foster mom who has become my partner in crime against the shady dealings of the foster agency.

She doesn't have any idea that's her name...right now, she responds better to "Come here!" But I'll get her used to it.

Let the adventures begin!

Introducing...

...yeah, I don't have a name for her yet. Any suggestions?

She's smelly and she's horny, but she's mine. Waiting for the kennel cough to go away before she's spayed. Last night I adopted this lovely four-year-old cocker spaniel from a foster agency. So far, so good. She has a lot of energy, but she is very well-behaved. Doesn't jump on furniture, explores with her nose, not her mouth, totally house broken, stays quiet in the morning until I wake up, can sit, stay, lay down and stand on her hind legs when she wants to see what's going on on my table.

I haven't posted in a while because the process of finding a dog was really rough...at times heartbreaking. I just needed to protect myself a little bit because I was feeling really raw. Rarely do I think events in my life are worthy of writing down. I'm often telling my friends, "you should write a book," but I don't think I have chapters for my own book. This experience of adopting a dog is worthy of a chapter. Not only for the heartbreak, but for the sheer volume of crazy people I had to encounter.

The dog I referenced in my last post ended up not working out...to say the least. I still have the bite mark on my hand to prove it. He hadn't had a lick of training and the woman who was taking him on wasn't helping. I was willing to work with him up until he tried to attack my face...while lying in the submissive position! Her response...petting him and saying "that's okay, that's okay." Good luck finding a home for that multiple personality dog.

I then tried the shelter. Found the best Pomeranian with jacked up teeth. Beautiful color, as gentle as a lamb. Very small dog, but didn't have that annoying yelp bark. Actually barely barked at all. Came back the next day at the start of the adoption time and found out that he had already been adopted by a woman who got there four hours before adoptions began. How was that allowed to happen? I cried myself to sleep that night.

The foster agency that had my cutie were run by fanatics who cannot relate to other humans nearly as well as they relate to animals. One of them was fostering 14 cats and a dog. Can you imagine having 14 cats in a New York apartment on the Upper West Side? Scary! Luckily, the woman who was fostering my dog was pretty normal, and I now have a dogsitter when I go out of town. But boy, dealing with the people who ran the agency was mind-blowing.

I'm skimming...but you get the idea. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster...luckily I have a lot of experience in that. It was worth it, though. My dog is great. We bonded almost immediately. She's laying on the floor by my feet right now...kicking her legs and snoring while she sleeps. I gotta go find a local vet and pet store and give her a bath. I also have to give her a name. I knew I was going to name it "Jake" if it was a boy...after Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain, of course...but I have no idea what girl name I should give her. Please help.

Mary's Been to Therapy & Dog Update

So I got the new Mary J. Blige CD emailed to me today...modern technology, what can you do? It's good...really good. I'm digging almost every song on it. Of course it's because I have mental health on the brain, but I noticed that Mary either has been or continues to be in therapy. She uses terms like "baggage" and "self-esteem" in an almost clinical way. She has a whole song about how she's looking for a father figure in her partner because she never received love from her real father. I don't think her therapist would approve of her projecting her paternal needs onto someone else...but what can you do? If that's not Psychology 101, I don't know what is. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking her...if she can go double platinum singing her therapy sessions and get Terrance Howard to be in her videos, more power to her. It's just interesting to listen to.

Mary remakes U2's "One" on this album...done with U2. No offense to Bono fans...but she sings him out of the water. It's the kind of remake that sounds different and familiar at the same time. To Bono's credit, he does harmonize well with Mary. I dig that song.

So on the dog front, I have a meeting with another cocker spaniel tomorrow afternoon. This one is only 10 months old, but he has all shots, pertinent operations, etc. and is housebroken. Music to my ears. I won't go into his story because I don't want to jinx it and I need to keep my excitement level down just in case it doesn't work out. But I will give you a tidbit...if I were to get this dog, I would get it for free! More details tomorrow...

The Crazy World of Pet Adoption

I know there's going to be some dog-loving nut who's going to read this and get all offended, but I don't care. Please know the following post is not directed to those who own pets and love them dearly. This is about some strange brand of human that has a difficult time communicating with other humans and yet will go to the ends of the earth for a dog...and expect you to do the same.

I met my first dog possibility tonight. He is a cocker spaniel. After reading about this breed...gotta love the library...and meeting the dog, I know I can dig the cocker spaniel. They are cute and intelligent and mellow and quiet. However...I can't get into this dog. First of all, he's older than eight...much older. He's not middle-aged, he's old. He walks like an old man and has cataracts and lots of grey hair and has large, strange growths on his penis. He's also taken!!! Another adopter wants him, but is just out of town right now. They did the old bait-and-switch. Luckily the other cocker spaniels that are available are "younger." I tell the foster owner I want to meet them and later this evening I get an email from the foster coordinator asking if I want to foster two dogs that will be shipped to Connecticut in two weeks! Not only did she not offer me what I asked for, she did it in a weird cyberspeak that I have never seen.

"will b in shltr late afternoon p/u post op cats too. as to fostering...if y know y r only doign it for a wk or 2, y don't get too attached. and y do s.t. great."

What?!?!? I want to adopt a dog for forever...how hard is this for them to understand?

I put a posting on Craig's List asking for any leads on an adult small dog. A guy named Stephen responded saying he may have a dog for me. So I call him up and he doesn't have a dog...he just has "connections" and some shelters in Brooklyn. What does it mean to have a connection to an animal shelter? Is that like having a connection to a club or to the Mob? He was very willing to drive me to these shelters anytime I wanted "a lift." Umm...can you say "creepy?"

You see what I've been dealing with?

Anywhoo, I'm thinking it might be in my best interest to bring my friend who knows about dogs to the shelter and adopting one from the source. These middlemen and women are weirding me out.

P.S. I have a name for the dog if it's a boy, but I don't have one if it's a girl. Any suggestions?

My First Work Post

So this is my first post from my office computer...so far so good. I want to give thanks to two groups of people:

1. The people who called, emailed and texted me sending good wishes today and yesterday. I was surprised at how many remembered. It felt good to have a mini-cheering section as I headed back.

2. All the people in my office and organization who will never read this who kept things under control. I read and dealt with all my emails by 2:30pm...and I had time to eat lunch. I do not feel overwhelmed at all. Now I'm working on the paperwork and I'm feeling good. Actually, it's been a low-key return...which I appreciate.

Murphy's Law is a B*tch!

It's two forty-five in the afternoon and I'm not at work. I am home, where it seems like I've always been. The reason why I'm at home? Because I have a really bad cold. I got it on Monday and did nothing but rest and read. By this morning, my throat was on fire, an earthquake hit my chest everytime I coughed and my whole body felt like I was pummeled with stones.

What a sucky feeling to call in sick my first day back to work. I'm drinking tea, taking steam showers and generally trying to take it easy so I can go back tomorrow. Of course it happens that the time I get a handle on one illness, another one comes along. Damn that Murphy's Law!

On another note, being this sick allowed me to finish all 782 pages of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke. I really enjoyed this book. It is written in the style of nineteenth century literature, but with a modern wit. It tells the story of an England that did not exist, however, Clarke has such a way with detail...hence the 782 pages...that I believed it all happened...and some pretty amazing events occur in this book. If you can get through the first 200 pages or so, which I admit are difficult, it is well worth it at the end.

That Ms. Miranda is One Deep Chick

In one of the postings on Miranda July's blog...which is sadly over...she says life is like a river. You can jump in and marvel at how the water swirls around you, stand on the shore and watch its beauty pass, or turn away completely and contemplate something more still...like a tree. Whichever you decide, life moves regardless.

It's funny how that concept has been realized in my life this past weekend. I find myself soaking wet and amazed at the patterns life takes on.

On Friday, I went on an interview/meeting with a sales rep from Social Circles, this club that organizes a different event every night of the week to facilitate social interaction among us crazy and work-crazed New Yorkers. The club is expensive but if you joined the day of your interview, the price goes down considerably...so I did it. I signed up for two years. But now I regret it. I don't want to pay over a thousand dollars plus fifteen dollars a month plus the cost of the event, to hang out with doctors and lawyers...the only people who can afford this club! Since I'm well within the "you can cancel within three business days," operative word being "business," I'm sending them a letter tomorrow.

My second dive is going much more smoothly. I'm setting up an appointment to meet an 8-year-old cocker spaniel this week in search for a home. He sounds like we might get along...I'll keep you posted.

And the leap that will make the largest splash of all...I head back to work tomorrow.

New Year's Theme

I've discovered that I don't do well with resolutions. I always disappoint myself when they aren't completed. I'm much better with themes. Sort of an overarching principle that will guide my year. It has to be specific and specific to me and where I am in my life, otherwise it becomes as intangible as a resolution. For example, the year I turned thirty which is almost two years ago. Scary! my theme was to be an adult. To take responsibility for my life like an adult. That was the year I bought my apartment, negotiated a 10% raise at my old job and started my first job that had real responsibility and made me the highest salary to date. There were a bunch of smaller decisions that I made with that theme in mind, but you get the picture.

So this year, my New Year's theme is to make myself happy. To keep my happiness in the forefront of my mind, without guilt or fear or anxiety. I am learning that it doesn't make me selfish or self-centered to do that. I'm not making it first mind you...that's different. But I am moving it to the front of the picture...out from behind that guy with the big head so all you see is its right eye and part of its forehead...and maybe a piece of its cheek. It's going to be front and center, along with making sure I am full of care with other people I encounter.

I've already begun and so far the results have been positive. I'm taking piano lessons and my brain is working in a very different way as I negotiate my hands to do two different things at the same time to work together. One of the classes I'm taking this spring is a writing class that deals with illness. I'm looking forward to chronicling my struggles in a creative way. I'm all into The Artist's Way by Jane Cameron. In my morning pages, I'm learning that I do have a way with words when I don't try so hard. All of these things make me happy.

Just as last year taught tuckergurl that life is precious, it taught me that happiness is precious...that despair is closely marking my steps and if I don't care for myself, it will engulf me.

So this is the Year of My Happiness. Doesn't have the same ring as Year of the Boar...but it works for me.