We Rocked It!

I went out with the girls, their husbands, one of the girl's dad, and Cole last night. I was the "Miss Kitty" type from Gunsmoke. Some of youngins won't have any idea who I'm talking about.

She ran the "saloon" and her "dance hall" girls worked for her, in more ways than one. Well my girls were my "girls" last night. They didn't bring in one single dime! I really should have called up The Queen or the Dutchess for a few pointers on how to get these girls to work.

Not only did they stiff me on whatever they did  make, I have a sneaking suspicion that they were charging to my bar tab. THAT is totally unacceptable! Every time I looked at them they had a fresh drink in their hands, as did my son!

The girls did get the band to play the National Anthem so I shouldn't be too hard on them this time. 

There was almost a little excitement when we pulled into the parking lot. A guy in some little car pulled in right behind us while we were looking for a spot. Someone, that I won't name, that was driving my car began to back up. Dude in the little car was laying on the horn. I screamed "STOP, you're gonna run my Mercedes into that car!" That certain someone slammed on the breaks and an accident was averted. We bought them a round of drinks and all went well.

Ok, since I have a touch of a headache, not sure where that came from, I'll give you a few pics from the night.

Madame and one of the slackers, Michelle

Cole and another slacker, Karli

Karli and Mommy

Ready to rock the night

She just slapped her brother because he licked her face.

Mommy and Cole

Michelle and Mommy

Kramer

Karli and Justin

Michelle and Tyson

Me and my son-in-law, Tyson

Karli holding her Daddy's hand. She's having major surgery Nov. 3rd and is worried.

Mommy and Cole

Baby Kitty, Anna-Grace

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Ringtones and Mr. Coolpants

I was at the pharmacy waiting for my son's meds. A guy walks up to the counter and spells his name. He then gives his date of birth as 1966. He's standing there counting a wad of hundred dollar bills and his phone goes off. It's at full volume and the ring tone is "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees. He didn't try to silence it, he let it ring. I would have been mortified and muted it immediately had it been  mine, which it NEVER would have been my choice.

Ok Mr. Coolpants, you're counting hundreds, you're in your forties and nicely dressed, clearly people would think that you'd  reached some level of maturity in life. Here's a tip...having "Stayin' Alive" as your ring tone is lame. Having it play at top volume so the entire store can hear it makes you a dumbass.

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Beagles, Mexicans and Facebook

There’s something that’s been bothering me for quite some time and it’s only getting worse. I generally don’t write about my political or spiritual views on here. My views are very strong and very firm. I don’t write about them because I’m not in the habit of trying to provoke or offend people.

I watch the status updates on Facebook, I read a lot of blogs posts, I have the news on in my house whenever I’m home and the satellite radio in my car is set to my favorite news station. I really don’t get the polarization in America. I’m not speaking only of politics, however that’s a huge part of it. I’m speaking of it all, politics, faith, gender, racism, and just general hatred.

In case you missed it somewhere I’m an American, white (don’t you freaking dare call me European-American), politically conservative and christian. My views are firm, as I said, but they are mine. Yes I’ll debate sometimes, I’ll banter, I’ll share my views if asked and feel that they won’t be attacked. I’m not into attacks. I may state a view of mine but I won’t push it down your throat or call you names if you disagree with me.

I hear “tolerance” being preached from every direction, yet those that vomit it seem unwilling to practice it. Why is it that a lot of people want everyone to be tolerant of their choices, but refuse to be tolerant of those that choose a different way, of those that walk a different path?

Why doesn’t character seem to matter anymore? Character is what draws me to my friends, not their particular points of view. If you have no character and act like a bigoted, intolerant asshole I'll cross you off my list. Believe me there are some that have been crossed off of my list. Do I hate them? No, I just choose not to be subjected to their hatred.

My friends and family are diverse. Most of my children are either black or black and white. No, they don’t want to be called African-American. They feel it only segregates and drives the wedge in further. They all have “un-hyphenated American” t-shirts. My “mixed” kids embrace both of their backgrounds, not just one. They are Americans first.

My extended family is comprised of christian, agnostic, gay, conservative, liberal and races other than “white.” Some of them have some very intolerant views, but they’re family. My friends are diverse as well. My closest friend in the world is Mexican, other very close friends are lesbian, some are agnostic, others atheist. We don’t agree on everything, well maybe The Brat and I do, but I love them all deeply. 

A few years ago my grandson was in a park in downtown Portland. He was about 5 and had on a “Wee-Publican” t-shirt. He saw a man with a Beagle, his favorite dog. He approached the man and asked if he could pet the dog. The man told a five year old that his dog “only likes liberals.” Really? Seriously? Asshole.

One of the most awesome things about being an American is the right to have our own opinions and to be able to express them. Come on though, a little respect goes a long way. If you’re going to make tolerance your thing and want others to listen to and respect your point of view, at least have the guts to respect theirs.

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Really?

Seeing that my blog has “bipolar” in the title, and I am the Diva of bipolar, it seems I’ve been slacking on my duty to inform the world of bipolar-ness. Who in the world am I kidding? I had nothing else to write and this seemed easy.

So here are a few fun facts:

Bipolar disorder is usually characterized by extreme swings in moods, from highs (mania) to lows. Really? That’s what it is? I thought that was caused by being a mom to a tribe of grubby pawed bipeds.

Bipolar affects about 5.7 million Americans. That's only the diagnosed ones. The actual estimate is twice that. I am one of the lucky ones. I keep wondering what hat my name was chosen from.

People who have relatives with a history of a mood disorder are at a higher risk of developing bipolar disorder. If you knew some of my family, you’d know how accurate this is.

Symptoms of mania include euphoria, increased self-esteem, racing thoughts and reckless behavior. Uh, hello, isn’t that the definition of “Diva?”

Symptoms of depression include sadness, loss of interest in activities, fatigue and thoughts of death. Once again, I think this pretty much sums up being a mom at times.

Although there is no known cure for bipolar disorder, it is among the most treatable of mental disorders. Finally! Some good news!

Next are some myths of bipolar that really piss me off!

“All you need to do is think positively and it’ll go away.” Um, I think that’s called denial.

“People with mood disorders can’t get better.” So not true. Although my bipolar is mild and was undiagnosed for decades I’m significantly better than before. Millions of people with bipolar lead happy, healthy, stable lives.

“People with bipolar are dangerous.” Research shows that people with bipolar are no more violent than the rest of the general population. However, people with bipolar are twice as likely to be victims of violence. The only things I’m dangerous with are my credit cards and bank accounts. Oh, and I can do considerable damage in the shoe department.

“People with bipolar disorder are not stable enough to hold positions of authority like law enforcement or government.” People with this disorder hold positions of authority everywhere. I wonder why no one ever told Churchill or Theodore Roosevelt they shouldn’t have held their positions because of their bipolar. Check out my list of famous people with the disorder.

We all have things to work through, whether we admit it or not. My something just happens to have a name that's been stigmatized by ignorance. Even my own family treats me differently since the diagnosis and it pisses me off. Don't freaking tip-toe around me or make snide remarks. I know the demons you try to hide from the world, I'm up front about mine.

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Great, Just Great

This was supposed to post last night! Oh well since I'm at a loss for words and recovering from a terrible xanex headach here goes


I'm sitting here trying to read blogs and answer comments on mine. I simply can't do it.

I was cooking dinner when a panic attack began to rear it's ugly head. It's been around 2 years since I last had a full blown panic attack. I have anxiety all the time, but panic attacks are rare luckily.

The attacks pretty much go hand in hand with bipolar but I've been able make it through some time without one. Tonight we got some news that pretty much rocked my world. We'll come through it somehow, not sure how at the moment, but we will come through it.

If you've never had a panic attack you're one very lucky individual. They make me feel like I'm dying. I can't breathe, my heart races, my chest hurts and the surroundings begin closing in. It's like being in a fun house without the fun.

So I left the dinner table, downed some medication and curled up on my bed until it began to wane. After it slowed I thought it would be soothing to try to read. Well, ativan, a double dose of xanex and reading don't go hand in hand.

So tonight I'm sleeping. It's 7:30 and I'm out for the night. I guess I'll schedule this to post late tonight since I've already posted once today. As for typos, grammar, spelling and all that shit...forgetta 'bout it, I am.

Night all,

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I Don't Think So

Well I made it through the night, but I did it again. In my sleepless state I decided to watch a "true crime" show instead of one of the endless infomercials cluttering late night Direct TV. The show told the story of a woman that was brutally killed during a home invasion.

While I was blow drying my hair this morning that show kept replaying in my mind. We've lived in our home for 12 years and have never locked the front door except at night. It's unlocked all day, whether we're home or not.

My kids were all at school or work, my husband was gone and I was home alone. I heard a noise at the closed, but not locked, bedroom door. My heart stopped. I knew that was it. I was about to die.

I turned off the dryer, put on my robe (I wasn't going to be killed totally naked), grabbed my gun and slowly opened the door.

There was a crouched black figure there. I screamed and aimed. I almost shot my standard poodle. She was at the door tapping to get in. I caught my breath, grabbed her by the collar and went to lock the front door.

I went back to the room with my dogs and my gun. I locked the bedroom door. Then I took my dogs and my gun into the bathroom and locked that door.

With my vicious yorkie and my scary poodle at my feet and my .38 on the bathroom counter I finished getting ready for the day.

And my brother wants me to watch Shutter Island? I don't think so.

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I Did This Why?

Today, for some reason, I decided that it would be a great idea to watch Identity with John Cusak. It had been raining all day and a stormy, creepy movie seemed to be just the thing to occupy my afternoon.

If you haven’t seen the movie it begins with the psychiatrist of a serial killer trying to get a stay of execution for his client. He’s in a hearing with the Governor, his client and various other men in suits.

Then it switches to a Psycho looking motel. Cue the lightening and thunder. Eleven people are stranded because of a flood. One by one the people are either killed or die in some horrible manner. Then the bodies begin disappearing.


As it turns out these 11 people are not real people at all, but different personalities of the man in the hearing. The doc is trying to prove the killer’s insanity to the governor and at the same time he’s trying to integrate the guy's multiple personalities.

As a personality is integrated a person at the hotel dies. Of course you don’t find out what’s really happening until near the end of the movie.

Finally all of the personalities but the main personality and a girl appear to be integrated.

She’s a sweet girl so you think all is ok and the killer is going to spend the rest of his life in a psychiatric hospital singing songs and shuffling around in jammies. Oh no, while the killer is being transported to the hospital this creepy little kid personality returns, kills the girl personality, takes over the killer and of course the killer then kills his psychiatrist and the driver. Then creepy little kid begins singing this even more creepy little song.

So basically this afternoon I scared the shit out of myself. I’m 48 years old and was scared to walk out of my freaking bedroom, down the dark hall, by five doors and into the living room.

Now I’m lying in bed staring at my open bathroom door and the open closet door. There’s no way I’m getting up to close them because who knows what’s under my bed?  I’m pretty much thinking I’m taking a valium with my ambien and sleeping with the lights on tonight. That is if I can even sleep.

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Wordless? HA!

I guess this is supposed to be Wordless Wednesday. Me without words is kind of like a chicken without feathers. I'll try to keep my fingers at bay and type as little as possible. I was going to link up with Jen at the Denton Sanatorium and tell you about a day in my cuckoo's nest. I ran through yesterday in my mind and realized I didn't do crap. I went to the doctor, ate some cheese, watched Sons Of Anarchy and went to bed. Wooo-hooo. Booooooring! So I had to ditch that idea.

I had been chatting by email with Christy at I'm Just Sayin' about what a beautiful place she lives in. Through those emails I remembered what an incredible place I live in. I think I take the beauty for granted since I've been here for 20 years. So I'm going to show you just how amazing Oregon is.

Yes Terrie, we have wheat fields.

This is about a 2 minute walk from my house.

South Beach

Cannon Beach

Sisters

Columbia River Gorge

Clackamas River and Mt Hood

Hell's Canyon

Speaking of Christy, she gave me this cool Honorable Mention award for her Big Mouth Award. Thank you Christy! I usually have a big mouth with lots to say. Lately dealing with all those horrible allergic side effects from that satanic medication I've been on the quiet side. My kids kind of like that, but I'll be back with mouth in full motion!

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I QUIT!

Last night I asked my son about the ages of students in one of his classes at college. I was hoping that there were some people his own age that he could make friends with. He tells me, “There are people in there of all ages. The youngest is 17 and then there’s this really old lady.”

“A really old lady? How old is she?” I was thinking gray hair and a cane.

“Oh Mom,  she has to be around forty.”

“WHAT?” I about screamed. “You’re telling me that the really old lady is about 40?”

“Whoops, I mean....”

“Michael there’s no use in trying to back track now! You think I’m really old?”

“No Mom, you’re different.”

How in the world can I be “really old?” I mean I ride a Harley, I have tattoos, I love leather! Yeah I color the gray in my hair, but heck early gray runs in my family, or that's what I tell myself.
Really old my ass!

Just now I got a phone call from my daughter. She sounded all serious and asked me if I’ve been keeping up with Brothers And Sisters.

“Yes, why?” I thought she was calling to talk about Sarah and her sexy French boyfriend or the fact that the kids though their mom was a lesbian.

She drew in a breath and then this came out of her mouth,

“Mom, can you be tested for the Alzheimer’s gene?”

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Snotty, Blonde Bimbo?

I was checking out the keywords that people have Googled and my blog popped up in the results. It blows me away what people search for. I'm scratching my head on how some of these are related to my blog.

Bipolar and Brilliance - well that goes without saying.

Bacon Merkin and “can dogs wear merkins” - I write ONE post mentioning merkins and I end up in google search results? Just what kind of person would search for those terms anyway? There are some weird fetishes out there. The one about dogs freaks me the hell out. Why in the hell would a dog need to wear a merkin and who in the freaking world would think of putting one on a poor canine?

I want to be a Diva - Oh come on now, seriously? Baby Doll, you can want to be a Diva all you want. Divas aren’t made, they’re born. It's genetic. You either have it or you don’t. Keep wishing honey, maybe in another life.

Cockatiel War Dance - I can maybe see the Cockatiel part after writing a post on the cockatiel in the check book box, but “war dance?” Come to think of it, I guess “war dance” could be explained by the way I acted in the ER the other night when the nurse was taking my blood. She spewed it all over me, the bed and everything in sight. Just how does that happen?

Snotty Blonde Bimbo - Snotty-check, Blonde-check, Bimbo? Not.

Manolo Biker - Totally get this one. I love my Manolo Blahniks and I love my bike.

Mick Jagger - How in the hell is this in any way connected to me?

“wallnuts” good for pregnant - This make NO sense to me and who in the world misspells walnuts?

Hissing cursing cat -  I hate to admit it but this describes me more times that I want to acknowledge. Meow.

bipolar costume - Does this make sense to anyone?

Angela A. H. - This one amazes me with Google’s super “Big Brother” powers. Angela is my closest friend, The Brat. I’ve never, that I can remember, mentioned her first name in my blog and I KNOW I haven’t mentioned her last names. The only thing I can think of is that one of the minions in the administration of the Senator from Illinois has taped our conversations regarding him. We’re on the target and will probably meet the CIA or Secret Service soon.

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