Sickened

Day: Three Hundred and Twenty Eight

Photo taken on Saturday, June 25, 2011 on our deck at 625pm.

I am totally bummed at the moment. Steve and I go to the Melville Blood Center today in order to donate platelets for the first time. Pher is very into donating platelets and whole blood that he goes on a regular basis. He has inspired me to do the same thing but unfortunately halfway through my face goes numb from tingles. They feed me 5 Tums but it doesn't help. The nausea sets in and at this point I need to tap out. Luckily they have enough platelets so they can use it but I am beyond embarrassed that I failed to make it through to the end. They even tell me never to come back and donate platelets again and to stick with whole blood.

Right now I am so disappointed in myself and disgusted that once again my body is too weak to do some good in this world. I ought to be ashamed of myself; I am as big as a house yet I can't handle losing a few platelets.

We Didn't Start The Fire

Day: Two Hundred and Ninety Three

Photo taken on Saturday, May 21, 2011 on our deck at 314pm. (Pictured at the table: me and Heather. Men in the back: Justin and Steve)

"It's the end of the world as we know it."

The Rapture.

Doomsday.

What way to celebrate our last moments on earth than with good friends and good samwidges? Sure, I already know this morning when Steve leaves for work that the other Hemisphere is still in fine shape at 6pm their time but we can't be too positive. We still have a few hours before our life-ending earthquake hits New York. I just don't want to be doomed for eternity knowing that the last time I ate one of Steve's Infamous Supermelts was months ago, so we heat up the griddle and set to work. When we go to the fiery depths of hell this evening, at least we'll be full.

When 559 rolls around we fearfully lift our beer glasses (Justin opts for rootbeer since he's driving later) and we all stare intently at the cable box clock. It starts to rain (water not frogs) but it makes us wonder a bit... maybe we're not taking Harold Campings' prophesy seriously enough.

At six o'clock we wait a few seconds...

Cheers!

We make it through the Rapture unscathed!

As we imbibe our respective drinks and get back into fun conversations, we get a visitor to our deck. Then she so boldly visits our screen door:

I think she just wants to get in on the action of still being alive and free to jump from tree to rooftop to telephone wire till her little heart's content. Heather makes her a peanut butter samwidge to join in our celebration and as she devours it we all name her.

Meet our deck pet: Beatrice Tabitha Nesbitt

Swans and ducks and now squirrels! Feel free to come to our home and feed the animals (that includes Steve and I as well).

Kermit

Day: One Hundred and Sixty Seven

Photo taken on Saturday, January 15, 2011 while I was volunteering at the mile 5 water station for the Blue Point Brewery 10 Mile Run in Patchogue, NY at 950am.

A fellow St. Anthony’s alumna posted a status message yesterday that at first I took personally but then I just shrugged it off thinking she doesn’t know what she’s missing. She is entitled to her opinion and I respect it but it made me pause and take a look at myself regardless. She wrote:

“Can someone please explain to me the stupid animal hats adults are wearing? If you’re over the age of 12 you just look like an idiot.”

I responded to the status message with: I’m an idiot then.

 And I like being an idiot.

I am who I am, and I have prided myself on that fact since I was a youngster. I have always marched to the beat of my own drummer (hell I was a drummer) no matter what type of flak I caught for it. Pepsi sneakers in the fifth grade, a silk button down shirt with a map of the world on it in seventh grade, a rather large Hawaiian shirt collection (before the trend set in) in sophomore year of high school, and then in college talking t-shirts became a part of my wardrobe before celebrities thought they were cool. Now as an adult, stupid animal hats.

I know I look stupid. I know everyone on my commuter train has snuck a glance at my headgear and I don’t really care what their thoughts are about it either. Whether they think I look like a goof or that I want attention, it is not going to phase me in the least. I like my frog hat with its bulging eyes sticking out from my noggin and the tongue hanging above my eyes; I think it’s silly and that’s why I wear it.

Apparently there are unspoken rules about growing older and you know what? I’m not ever going to follow them and there’s not a thing you can do to convince me otherwise. Even when I have kids, I’ll be embarrassing them when they’re in high school and I’m off to the grocery store in my pajama pants and a matching beanie. We won’t even discuss the horror on their faces when I traipse out the door one Saturday in full cosplay as I head toward the Javits Center for the New York Anime Festival. Do I look outlandish all the time? Of course not! But you can keep your stuffy wardrobe, I like my Converse sneakers with this pant suit thank-you-very-much.

I have come so far since my adolescence, shedding that self-conscious skin and gaining a sense of humor that makes life’s obstacles bearable. Still to this day people make snap judgments based on my appearance but if they took the time to actually sit and have a conversation with me they would learn that there is definitely more to me than my hat. A lot more. There is no law saying I have to squash that inner child within me and stop enjoying the one life I get to live. If I want to spend it being a womanchild then more power to me. I know what I’m about and at least I’m comfortable enough in my own skin to walk out of the house wearing an animal on my head.

Society has made some of us too scared to express ourselves so instead we hide behind what everyone else is doing without a single original thought in our heads. People should want to switch it up, create their own style, and wear it proudly.

Today I am not alone with my frog hat, a fellow volunteer, Freddie, is also donning an animal hat with matching gloves! Now that’s what I’m talking about!

Hairless

Day: One Hundred and Twenty Two

Photo taken on Wednesday, December 1, 2010 on the bar counter at 1017pm.

Interesting tidbit about the ponytail on the right (the two on the left belong to me...well used to). When I tell grandma I am donating my hair she brings me a lock that she has had in her possession for 82 years! It belonged to my Nana, Moma's grandmother, grandma's mother. How cool is that?! She then tells me the story of when Nana decided to cut all her hair off and how upset it made Nana's father. Apparently back then, only "women of the night" cut their hair that short so when she came home sporting the chic new do, he leaned out of the window and shouted at her, calling her trampy names. But Nana didn't care. She liked her new hair cut and continued about her business, keeping her head held high. You go, Nana! You go with your bad self!

Mulan

Day: One Hundred and Twenty

Photo taken on Monday, November 29, 2010 on my balcony at 812pm.

Right now I'm reflecting on an interesting encounter I had today at the Surge. I admit, sometimes I get annoyed when I receive medical record requests because it requires me to find a chart and it is such a long process to do so but this time feels different. This time the patient is absolutely lovely on the phone and I find her chart without much effort.

When she comes in to retrieve it a few hours later she welcomes me with a sweet smile. She is an elderly lady with a very bright disposition and starts a conversation with me about how she did medical records for thirty years. We end up talking for a good 15 minutes because she is the kind of person that is so nice that she makes you want to be a better person. Before she leaves she insists upon giving me candy that she has in her pockets and I can't help getting choked up. Here is a stranger who just met me and already she has opened her heart up, and even her arms, as she asks if she can give me a hug.

This is a moment I want to keep inside me forever, to remember that there are good people out there that are just as caring and loving as myself. I take pride in my honesty, fairness, and open heart and today I meet another person who believes in the same things I do. It doesn't take much to give a little and then pay it forward. Her presence reminds me today that as down as I get, I have to have faith that a little bit of sunshine can still get through no matter what.

Cake Bitch

Day: One Hundred

Photo taken on Tuesday, November 9, 2010 on 86th Street in between 3rd and Lexington Avenues at 1056am.

I hold in my hand two cakes from the Two Little Red Hens bakery. Today we at the Surge are celebrating six October birthdays with a Brooklyn Blackout and a Red Velvet. One day I volunteered to pick up the dessert for my coworkers and have done so ever since. They all swear I pick out the best cakes for the occasion but I suspect the real reason I go is because no one wants to walk the six blocks to go pick it up. I don't mind really, gets me out of the building for a bit and I get to look at beautifully decorated cakes. We used to buy from Hot & Crusty for all our birthday cake needs but one time we received a cake from them that was not hot but definitely crusty so we (happily) made the switch to the Hens.

Gracia Hughes

Day: Ninety Seven

Photo taken on Saturday, November 6, 2010 in the bathroom doorway at 1227pm.

I did it. It's done. I have cut off 13 inches of my hair.

Actually John from Head Sessions cuts it off for me this morning and since I forget to bring a bag to store it in, he gives me the Ziplock he brought his candy in. I am very grateful for this because knowing me I would lose the two ponytails before I could even address the envelope to Beautiful Lengths. Barbara then does my highlights, asking me what color I would like. I shrug and tell her she can pick for me, I trust her completely. She has been doing my hair coloring since I was 16 and has kept track of each dying session since. When I get blown out later I am very happy with the results: blond highlights with chunky reds mixed in throughout. It looks really cool with my new cut too.

I am so looking forward to using less shampoo and conditioner. I also can't wait to break out the manipulators, pastes, pomades, and waxes I used to style with!

Heads

Day: Ninety Six

Photo taken on Friday, November 5, 2010 in my office at 816am.

You won't see a ponytail as long as this on me for at least another four years.

Chores

Day: Ninety Three

Photo taken Tuesday, November 2, 2010 in the bathroom at 1005pm.

Blowing out my extremely long hair? Yeah. Not going to miss that.