Tuesday, December 9, 2014


photo from here.
"Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world...would do this, it would change the earth." 
-W. Faulkner

I cannot condone the rioting but I also cannot condemn it. I will never know what it's like to fear for my child's life every time he leaves the house because his skin is dark. I will never understand the immediate racial prejudice received from having dark skin. It will never be my life experience. I empathize as best I can with the rage an entire group of people feel because they've been made victims again and again and again, in a never-ceasing history of racism. I'm mad as hell, personally, because I thought we were better than this, I thought America, supposed land of the free, was finally trying to shake loose the burden of racism which has shackled us from our very beginnings.

I'm annoyed as hell that we applaud the rebellion in a movie where they pledge if "we burn, you burn with us," but denounce people who have, very much in real life, been oppressed violently. Probably because it's a pretty white woman doing the screaming. That's what I wish for the world, that more people would speak up, be enraged at the horrible things being done here.

I can't breathe. We can't breathe. I can't stop thinking about this. How can the body of America continue to live without air? This is so heart-breaking. Please, speak out, don't allow racism to continue to rear its ugly head. Just so you know, if you remain silent on this, you are complicit in this murder.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Married & Almost 30

Photo Credit: Leighanne Herr Photography
"I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and little animals and is honest and not vain or fame-crazy and how he shows his gladness for what I cook him and joy for when I make him something, a poem or a cake, and how he is troubled when I am unhappy and wants to do anything so I can fight out my soul-battles and grow up with courage and a philosophical ease. I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. What is only pieces, doled out here and there to this boy and that boy, that made me like pieces of them, is all jammed together in my husband. So I don't want to look around any more: I don't need to look around for anything." 
-Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

I married Tom on an overcast afternoon in Downtown Houston, in front of our closest loved ones. I'm told the sun chose our vows as the moment to make an appearance, but I was too focused on not crying to notice Ra celebrating my love & our promises to each other. Expectedly, the night passed in a whirl of brief moments with people, punctuated with drinks, snapshots of the night remembered the next day. 

Everything about our wedding was perfect. I could not have asked for anything more. Not a step was out of place, not a plan falling awry. 

I cannot wait to get the rest of our wedding pictures! Leighanne is not only a photographer, but truly an artist, taking not just pictures, but making each photograph into its own work of art. 

Now with the stress of wedding planning behind us & the anticipation of a beautiful photo album all that remains, we look forward to our honeymoon! I'm slowly working towards organizing the myriad of activities we have planned. Tom asked if we could take a couple weeks break from planning before I started another spreadsheet. :P I can't help it! I love planning! I love the organization, the fitting of puzzle pieces together to make an event come alive. It's a way for me to control the chaotic world in which we live. I theorize that's why I love cooking so much; each night I can plan & execute a gourmet dinner, crafting & controlling my evening. 

Anyhow, for a while now, I've been warning people to expect big things of my 30th birthday, but now I'm kind of worn out on the BIG event planning & instead, I think I'm going to just have those available & in town over for a night of drinks & chatting. Low-key house party to ring in the new decade of life. 

Each year gets better & better; I can't wait for what 30 has in store for me! The best part continues to be sharing this life of mine with Tom.


Monday, July 7, 2014

Goodbye Old Posts!

thanks for the pic heather!
"You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."
-Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

I reverted years and dozens of past posts to drafts so they no longer show in my blog. I wanted a way to archive them so they weren't deleted, but I no longer wanted them accessible to the public. The past posts show a journey to the person I am today, but didn't paint the entire picture. The growing control-freak in me hated the inconsistencies, the lack of organization & frankly, I just couldn't stand the idea of people reading that crap anymore. SO BAI.

Since almost dying from an (as of now, not 100% diagnosed) allergic reaction, life has been on the up & up. Most notably, Tom & I are now engaged! I'm over the moon excited! Wedding plans are coming along nicely, although it kills me how expensive it is to host a big party to celebrate your love. Oh well, it's just money.

I wonder if we've fallen into a rut: work, dinner, whatever, weekends travel, repeat. I mean, if it's a rut, it's one in which I'm completely happy. For the first time in my life, I'm content. I am happy with Tom, with my life, with how things are going, with the idea of my future, with everything. I've never felt this way before; before there was always some wanting, whether expressed or hidden away like a guilty emotion.

I never thought I'd be this happy & excited to be an old, boring person.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Allergies are KILLER

Death Wash
"If you are allergic to a thing, it is best not to put that thing in your mouth, particularly if the thing is cats."
-Lemony Snicket

I finally made an appointment to see an allergist next week after almost dying last night. Good god, allergic reactions are no joke. And it's ridiculous what triggered it.

I had scuffed up my knees/elbows Saturday night in Heather/Andrew's pool and wanted to make sure they were nicely washed out yesterday, so I used this antiseptic wash Tom's mom (a retired nurse) had given us. With a known antibiotic allergy (rocephin), I read the back of the bottle to make sure that it's not in there and sure enough, it wasn't so YOLO I decided, very dumb in retrospect. I washed my knees and my hands with the solution, rinsed off, dried & bandaged my knees. I put on pajamas and sit in bed next to Tom where he was playing games on my nook. My stomach itched... I scratched, then I noticed my palms & feet were throbbing itchy, then when I sat up to scratch my feet, a hot flash swept through my body and I stood up saying, "Tom, something is wrong with me. Something is wrong with my body." I couldn't think, everything itched so badly, I was short of breath & all I wanted was to rinse the itch off, so I hopped back in the shower, incoherent. I'm susceptible to anxiety attacks, so I try to mentally calm myself down to assess: is this all in my head or am I physically reacting to something. I realize there's a rock sitting on my chest & I need to go to the hospital. Tom helps me get dressed & we're out the door. I start seeing black spots walking to the car and I'm super flushed, super itchy all over. Tom speeds to the 24 hour Emergency Clinic right by our house (kind of like an urgent care, but billed as an ER) where I tell the woman I believe I'm having a severe allergic reaction. At this point, it's getting difficult to breathe and I'm beet red, covered in hives, so duh, severe allergic reaction. The woman then proceeds to hand me a stack of paperwork to fill out. I mumble, "can't" and push it towards Tom so I can flop down on the couch before I pass out. I'm sitting there, struggling to breathe, dying from itch, in pain, hot, trying hard not to lose consciousness, when she tells me my insurance isn't valid. I said, "You're wrong, I work there still & I pay for it, it's valid." So she takes her sweet time calling the insurance company, going through their automated system and she tells me, "Your birthday is wrong." It's my fucking birthday. I know it's when it is. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I said, "please, I just need someone to help me," starting to cry because looking up, it hits me that I could actually die. It's so hard to stay awake. My heart is pounding out of my chest, my vision shaking with each thunderous beat. Tom is getting pissed at the woman and finally snaps, "We're going to the hospital if you cannot help her." The woman tries to slow us down by asking us if we wanted her to shred the fucking paper. Bitch, I AM DYING I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE FUCKING USELESS PAPERWORK.

At this point, tears running down my face, I stumble back out to the car and Tom flies to the real hospital. I walk in, a cop takes one look at me and puts me in a wheelchair. They don't even ask about insurance, they wheel me back and start getting my vitals & info about what the hell is going on. My systolic blood pressure is 85 (which I learned from Roya is very, very bad). We have the bottle of wash with us to show them what I'm reacting to. They start pumping me with steroids & benadryl and can't stop commenting on how red I am. I can't stop shaking, I'm so cold. My muscles hurt from the constant convulsing. I can only imagine how revolting I looked, red of a thousand sunburns, hives, sausage fingers and toes. With the medicine, my blood pressure and pulse returned to normal, and I became my normal pale skinned-self. My doctor & nurse were shocked by my reaction & especially shocked by what caused it: chlorhexidine wash. It's commonly used in hospitals as pre-surgical scrub for both the doctor's hands and the person undergoing surgery. Even the soap dispenser in my room was equipped with the stuff (aka death all around me).

Roya pointed out as terrible as last night was, thank god it happened then & now I can tell them if I ever have to have surgery not to use it on me because I could die. The only other time I had such a severe reaction was to a different antibiotic & I was so sick already, I didn't really notice/remember. This was terrifying, I'm still pretty shaken from it. I'm on steroids, pepcid & benadryl for this week because they don't know how much of the wash my body absorbed.

Anyhow, thanks to my doctor & nurses at Memorial Hermann Memorial City Medical Center! Jerry was the best nurse I've ever had and made me feel safe when I was out of my mind. Dr. Chiang was so sweet, charismatic & I deeply appreciate the time she took to sit with me to answer all my concerns. Seriously, best bedside manner of all time.

Thanks to my sweet, sweet boyfriend. Tom kept his head about him the whole time & couldn't have been more perfect in the situation. His calming presence did a world of wonders for me, I just feel bad that I scared him so much!

I won't be YOLOing with antibiotics/antiseptics anymore.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

My Struggle

Glare: Activated

"I am an optimist... I choose to be. There is a lot of darkness in our world, there is a lot of pain and you can choose to see that or you can choose to see the joy. If you try to respond positively to the world, you will spend your time better."
-Tom Hiddleston

Ugh. I've found myself complaining more & more & more & more. A disgusting habit. People are annoying, they do stupid things which piss me off. I'm treated unfairly, I face the consequences of my rash behaviors, I whine whine whine. Another complaint: I'm tired of it. I'm swirling in a cloud of negativity of my own harbouring and I want to excise these dark spirits. 

I'm choosing to embrace the positive, focus on the good. Well, I'm going to try. 

I can blah blah blah people do things which hurt me and by whining, I am choosing to be a victim. I don't want to... I want to be a maker of my own mind. 

I would love advice on how to vent my feelings without wallowing, how to release the pent up angers & frustrations without becoming a demeaning person. Ayudame. 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Why We Can't Kill

"I believe ..  that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system." - Neil Gaiman

I've wavered my entire life on my beliefs about the death penalty, but I cannot stand undecided any longer. It is wrong. It is inexcusably wrong.

At first, I believed justice was served by capital punishment such as, why should someone who commits such an atrocious act be allowed to live out the rest of his or her life while their victim(s) did not? Why do they get to play god? How could I, never having experienced such a violent loss, look a mother in the eyes and tell her that her child's murderer should not also die? To try and empathize, I imagined how I would feel if someone murdered a member of my family, would I relish in seeing the perpetrator die?

Nothing good would come from it.

This is why we are the good guys: we do not murder. Our descent into capital punishment has condemned us as surely as we have condemned the accused.

We are the good guys because we are better than that. We are better than rash thinking, impulsive violence, nonsensical rage.

I constantly refer to the Christian religion, the seat of my personal faith and the community which seems to rule this country; you guide yourselves by asking, what would Jesus do?

He did not throw the stone.