Scheherazade in Blue Jeans

Administration
Happy birthday to shiftercat!

Hello to new reader pisicutsa!

Medical
Still mostly okay.

Had yet another argument with the rheumatologist's secretary. ( Collapse )

So I'm trying to figure out how to handle this. Clearly, I need a new rheumatologist (Bostonians - anyone got one you like?). I actually like the doctor, and want to see if this repeated pattern of hissyfits and denial of necessary medicine (this is the same doctor's office that denies the Celebrex) is his or his nasty secretary. If it's his secretary, I will recommend that he fire the bitch. If it's him, I see a malpractice suit in his future.

My difficulty getting there is due to multiple factors. Primarily health and money. When I'm brainfogged, I need to not be driving half an hour there and half an hour back (it isn't T-accessible), and when I'm poor, I need to not be hauling $40 out of the bank account every month or two. And I think it's not unreasonable for a doctor to allow for the fact that the condition he is treating his disabled patient for might make it difficult for her to get around, that her condition rendering her unable to hold down a job might make it difficult for her to pay your copay and the parking fees quite as often as you'd like.

But hey. That's just me.

So I think what I'll be doing is asking my primary care doc to take over med dispensing, and looking for a rheumatologist who can actually treat me according to my ability to get there, and understand when I can't. I will call this doctor and express my concerns. I will not continue to see him unless he agrees to see me maybe every six months or as needed, and disciplines his secretary. And not in the fun kinky way.

Medical Catchup for New Readers
Epilepsy and fibromyalgia are the big two, with pretty much everything the fibro's comorbid with. And bursitis in my knees and hips. Stuttery heart, asthma, allergies, et cetera. I'll do a full head-to-toe list sometime. It'll depress you.

Publication of a Sort
I wrote a poem about my flash-bonding with s00j and omnisti. Perfumers Violette Market held a call for love poetry to base perfumes on. I had just sent it to Adam to print so I could send it to S00j with her $WINTERHOLIDAY gift, so it was on my mind, so, I sent it.

So... it is here. The spacing is weird, which makes the page hard to read; just search for my name.

My poem smells like "heart seams inflamed with spicy pink and black pepper, smoky caramel, and a cooling dose of sweet chocolate, vanilla cream, and winter buds." Sounds delicious, actually. I get a free bottle.

...hi.

Link Soup, Inauguration Edition
* January 20h.
* 88 Lines About 44 Presidents.
* Open letter.

Daily Science
Conventional wisdom has it that a large star eventually collapses to a black hole, but some theoretical models suggest it might instead become a so-called naked singularity. Sorting out what happens is one of the most important unresolved problems in astrophysics. The discovery of naked singularities would transform the search for a unified theory of physics, not least by providing direct observational tests of such a theory.

Daily Scent-Stuff
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Plans
Well, today I get to work. Deal with doctor crap. Get cracking on revisions for my Ravens in the Library story. Get stuff put away from Arisia; write the Arisia recap. *nod* Tonight's the parent meeting for the Washington DC trip the entire eighth grade goes on; presumably they will be telling us how much it costs. Part of why I'm a bit on the frustrated side today.

...hi.

* I'll be at Vericon this weekend. Let me know if you'll be there and want to do lunch.

* We're looking for roommates for Boskone. The rooms fit a rollaway bed for Elayna nicely, so there's space for, well, however many of you can comfortably fit into a double bed.

* I'll be at Wicked Faire. Rooming with Spooky, Hugh, and Jen.

* Everyone keeps asking if I'm gong to LunaCon. It's not on Elayna's birthday weekend this year (there's a first!), so I could conceivably go - but, as with all things, it depends on money. onyxhawke is confident that I can get on panels and therefore be comped, so my main questions are hotel and ride there. Anyone going from Boston? If not, I can take a bus to NYC and ride with someone from there. But I can't swing the cost of a hotel room on my own. Anyone going to LunaCon looking for roomies? I don't take up much space or snore, and thanks to Lunesta, I'm a deep sleeper.

Now to fight with doctor's office, shower, and get to work. Writing the Arisia recap is my reward.

EDIT: Never mind - I'll be on a train during LunaCon!

Thing I am always reminded of at cons: I am constitutionally incapable of telling someone I find them attractive in any sort of smooth, suave way. I am a dork, ladies and gentlemen. It always ends up along the lines of "Ummhi. I just want you to know that you are very [cute/hot]. I'm not hitting on you - my dance card is so full that I'm scribbling in the margins. So, umm, I would not have time to ave. Anything. With you. But I wanted to let you know that you are very attractive. Just, you know, verbal appreciation. Umm. So. Oh, look at the time, I have a panel to go to!"

Fortunately, some of you find the fumbling to be cute instead of a sign of extensive brain damage. So. Go me?

Three years ago, I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane to raise money for the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN) and Speaking Out About Rape (SOAR). It was an amazing, transcendent, transformative experience, and I think that some part of me has been fearless since then.

No, I'm not doing Operation Freefall this year. The fibro makes that a really bad idea. But someone else is.

Oh, ladies and gentlemen, I am in love with a girl, and maybe she's about to figure out how awesome she really-truly is.

On April 25th, Spooky will be jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.

Why? She says: I was date raped when I was 16. As a result, I literally lost about a year out of my life. I have a remarkably good memory, and I can remember very little about my senior year of high school. I turned 17, I graduated, and I pretty much ran away from home all within a week...I fled to Philadelphia, to my mother's arms. And it took a few more years before I was really able to get a grip on all the after-effects of that rape.

To quote the Operation Freefall website:
The FBI categorizes rape as the second most violent crime a person can experience, second only
to murder. To put it another way, it’s the most violent and traumatic crime any victim lives to
remember. Every two minutes, another American is sexually assaulted. It is the most underreported
of all crimes in the United States. The effects of sexual violence affect all of us.

I am jumping out of a perfectly good plane in part because I want to do something radical for the child I once was. I am alive. I am alive despite my conviction for years that I shouldn't be, that rape doesn't happen to smart girls.

(She is so brave.)

She needs to raise $600 in order to participate. Of course, the more, the better! So please -

CLICK HERE TO SPONSOR HER!

And pass this on!

(Oh, I wish I could jump. Awful idea with my body the way it is. And I do volunteer lots with BARCC. But still. I shall jump vicariously through her!)
(I am so, so proud of her.)

A lot of people who've met me and Adam more recently are shocked when it comes out that we'd broken up once upon a time. I'd moved up to Atlanta to be with him in 2001; we broke up in December 2002, after a several-month struggle to stay together because we were best friends, dammit...

The breakup lasted a year. In all that time, we stayed living together; stayed in the same bed, even. Came to a lot of realizations. This is a long, long story, and it ended one evening the next December when I came back from my evening walk, dropped to my knees, and proposed to him.

One day, some time later (after the wedding, IIRC), I finally brought out my Ani DiFranco tape and played him "Both Hands". We sat in the car in a Coca-Cola U parking garage and I said "For months, I couldn't get this song out of my head. It was tearing me apart."

I am walking out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through...
the old woman behind the pink curtains
and the closed door
on the first floor
she's listening through the air shaft
to see how long our swan song can last
and both hands
now use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffiti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried

Because Adam was my best friend and my heart and my soul, and I could not imagine me-without-Adam. I reveal now that friends actually had me on suicide watch in December 02. And 2003 was... pretty much the worst year ever, between us being broken up and my dating some truly unworthy people and then there was the epilepsy diagnosis, yeesh.

But we found a way. Because we never stopped being best friends. And we were able to give each other enough space to heal from the wounds we inflicted upon ourselves and each other.

I am watching your chest rise and fall
like the tides of my life, and the rest of it all
and your bones have been my bedframe
and your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
to offer up the deep
with both hands
in each other's shadows we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all

And my husband cried, listening in that dark parking garage to the sound of my extinct fear.

And thanked me for giving him that. And also for never giving it to him when we were breaking up.

In 2007, Ani re-recorded it for her greatest hits album.

And... it was... happy?

Listen for yourself.

I heard the first few notes and was like "erf?" and prepared to hate it. But... I like it. It fits who she is now better, I guess.

Fits who I am now better, too.

and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall
and when we leave the landlord will come
and paint over it all

This is who we were. This is how much we meant to each other. This is how hard we fought to keep each other as friends, so hard that our love deepened more and more. This is who we have been.

I am writing graffiti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried

O, my husband, how I love you. I have scaled the castle wall and fought the dragon and won the handsome prince. Oh, how hard we tried. Hard enough to succeed.

Adam reviews books for Publishers Weekly. Sometimes he makes notes about the books for the editors - things that don't get included in the review.

A note he read aloud to me today: "It's as if the author wanted to win a Bulwer-Lytton Award for every third sentence."

(He read me an excerpt. Oh yes. It really is that bad.)

Or, a study of the cats of the Sovereign Nation of Gojirawitziev:

Victoria likes to watch Lost.
Max prefers House.
Jack only has the attention span for Robot Chicken.