E has left treatment. R is devastated and ready to write her out of his life. I'm sure that a good-night's sleep will give him a new perspective, but at this moment he is distraught. We don't know why she has chosen to leave... she really seemed to be doing well. He hasn't spoken with her. She left him a message while he was teaching a fire safety class today, and it seemed as though all was well. When he called UCLA during his break a few hours later, she had checked herself out.
She will have her reasons (excuses) of course... She always has reasons. The reasons never seem particularly legitimate, but I suppose in her mind they have the legitimacy and weight of a granite mountain.
So the fact that she just learned from a top physician-researcher that the frontal lobe of her brain has decreased in size due to 5 plus years of starvation... Not important enough to compel her to stay. The fact that she now has back pain, and seems to have the beginnings of kyphosis due to oseteoporosis from the years when her body should have been building bone mass... Not important.
Like I've said before, her disease is like the worst drug addiction. She is the addict, and she exists in her own reality, far from the reality that the rest of us know. I don't know whether to scream or cry about this latest turn of events.
I worry that maybe it's my fault... Did she find out that I'm starting a weight loss treatment program? Did it "trigger" her somehow? We haven't mentioned anything to her. We are careful. Unless she reads this blog (doubtful), she has no idea.
Walking on eggshells gets tiresome. Her dad and I do our best not to trigger her disorder, but at the same time, life must be lived. When I see her, I try hard not to comment about my own appearance and weight, and I never say a word about her weight. I try not to praise her appearance, but sometimes I slip up and tell her that I like what she's wearing or what she's done with her hair. I would focus conversation on other things, like educational or career plans, but she doesn't have other plans or activities to focus on.
R and I have probably failed in thousands of ways, as individuals interacting with her and as a team. At the end of the day, though, E is the only person who bears responsibility for her choices. It is possible that she suffered some sort of trauma at a younger age, it's possible that her parents failed her somehow, but at the end of the day, she can choose to respond to those difficulties by making good choices going forward. Entering UCLA was a good choice that she made on her own... I can only hope that she'll realize she's done herself a disservice by leaving. Maybe she can get back on the path to recovery and continue the positive momentum of the past few weeks.
I just hope she doesn't say to us that she chose to leave because she's "recovered" and can do what needs to be done on her own. This is the ultimate lie that the addict tells him or herself. She's done it before, and on her own the pounds fall off at mach speed. A "recovered" person isn't a skeleton, too frail and tired to do anything besides sit wrapped up in a blanket or with the heater blasting. That isn't a picture of health. A "recovered" person doesn't subsist on gum, mints, tea, and the occasional salad. That isn't the picture of health, either.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Going to the Chapel...
After work yesterday morning, R took me to meet the man who will be marrying us. He is the ombudsman for the medical center, a former minister, and a really nice individual. When I first met R, I often heard him use the expression, "direct, honest, and respectful" to describe his philosophy about communication in relationships... Well, this philosophy comes directly from his friend Dennis (who in fact has a published book about this; it's in our bookcase at home).
As we talked about our desires for the ceremony, he asked if we would like to include a prayer... I said we would. He also asked if we would like for him to include the passage about love from 1 Corinthians 13.... and I started to recite it. R later said to me, "I think he was impressed that you knew it"-- in reality I think it was R who was maybe a little bit impressed. Last night I searched the internet for the entire passage, so he could see it in context, and I found a fun website: Bible Gateway. I have no idea who maintains the website, but there's the Bible, online, and the best part: you can switch between versions. I was able to read the passage about love in the New American Standard Version, then the New International Version (which is what I printed out for him). Several other versions were available, and many different languages as well... It's possible to quickly switch between them due to a convenient drop-down menu. Cool! I would have looked the passage up in my bible, but it's tucked away in a box somewhere. I have another one in my car. I started the practice of carrying a bible in my car when I first began driving... and right away I had a mechanical failure out in the middle of nowhere! Having the bible available to read was a huge comfort. I don't know if I've cracked it open in the years since, but there it is in the glove compartment waiting for me. I guess it's part of my "emergency supplies". I also had the NIV version of the bible installed on my Palm Treo... That was pretty cool, but doesn't do much good since I switched phone carriers and was forced to get a new phone.
Why do I mention this? Despite all of my negative talk about Christianity, I really do want to find a way home. I once considered myself a devout Christian, and my heart is still open to being that person again... but I have definitely evolved as a person and my beliefs have evolved as well. I'm almost 100% certain that I will never go back to Christianity as I practiced it in my youth. There is much to commend about the church that I belonged to, and much to praise about the people I called friends. But at the end of the day, the Christianity that I was practicing was irrelevant. I took to heart admonitions to "be not of this world", and I took to heart warnings about how Christians are fighting a spiritual battle... I bought into an "us vs. them" mentality that wasn't healthy. Today, I'm unabashedly for humanism. I'm for finding common ground with others, rather than focusing on our differences, and I'm for finding a spirituality that has measurable societal benefits. Like it or not, we are all part of this world, and this world is worthy of investment and concern!
As we talked about our desires for the ceremony, he asked if we would like to include a prayer... I said we would. He also asked if we would like for him to include the passage about love from 1 Corinthians 13.... and I started to recite it. R later said to me, "I think he was impressed that you knew it"-- in reality I think it was R who was maybe a little bit impressed. Last night I searched the internet for the entire passage, so he could see it in context, and I found a fun website: Bible Gateway. I have no idea who maintains the website, but there's the Bible, online, and the best part: you can switch between versions. I was able to read the passage about love in the New American Standard Version, then the New International Version (which is what I printed out for him). Several other versions were available, and many different languages as well... It's possible to quickly switch between them due to a convenient drop-down menu. Cool! I would have looked the passage up in my bible, but it's tucked away in a box somewhere. I have another one in my car. I started the practice of carrying a bible in my car when I first began driving... and right away I had a mechanical failure out in the middle of nowhere! Having the bible available to read was a huge comfort. I don't know if I've cracked it open in the years since, but there it is in the glove compartment waiting for me. I guess it's part of my "emergency supplies". I also had the NIV version of the bible installed on my Palm Treo... That was pretty cool, but doesn't do much good since I switched phone carriers and was forced to get a new phone.
Why do I mention this? Despite all of my negative talk about Christianity, I really do want to find a way home. I once considered myself a devout Christian, and my heart is still open to being that person again... but I have definitely evolved as a person and my beliefs have evolved as well. I'm almost 100% certain that I will never go back to Christianity as I practiced it in my youth. There is much to commend about the church that I belonged to, and much to praise about the people I called friends. But at the end of the day, the Christianity that I was practicing was irrelevant. I took to heart admonitions to "be not of this world", and I took to heart warnings about how Christians are fighting a spiritual battle... I bought into an "us vs. them" mentality that wasn't healthy. Today, I'm unabashedly for humanism. I'm for finding common ground with others, rather than focusing on our differences, and I'm for finding a spirituality that has measurable societal benefits. Like it or not, we are all part of this world, and this world is worthy of investment and concern!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Other Shades of Gray
My mom has been in town to help me get the unfinished wedding projects more under control... So far, she's sewn a liner for the flower girl basket, sewn the ring bearer pillow, rented chairs and a PA system for the ceremony, and worked with my sister to get addresses together for invitations. She has also done a fair amount of poking and prodding to ensure that things continue to move along! So glad to have a mother in my life.
Yesterday I had my physical and body analysis for the weight loss program that I'm starting on Wednesday. I hesitate to do it because of E... Would it be a setback for her if she caught wind of it? The thing is, I need to lose weight. My cholesterol is suddenly high, I can't fit into my clothing, and I weigh a mere 4 pounds less than R, who has 9" of height on me. I've heard that it's a good idea to be at a healthy weight prior to pregnancy-- it's better for both mother and baby. There are plenty of reasons to proceed.
E is doing really well right now. She's still in the program at UCLA, which is a small miracle. She has even enlisted in a research study there. The physican conducting the research had an MRI taken of her brain... and it showed that the frontal lobe has lost mass. Five plus years of starvation has exacted a high price on not just her frail body but also her brain. The good news: The damage can be reversed. Every day that she spends in treatment she gives herself more of a fighting chance for a healthy future. I'm proud of her for doing what needs to be done, as tough as it is. She is working towards recovery!
A few nights ago R asked who I was inviting to our wedding. I had a hard time coming up with names... I don't think I should invite coworkers, since I can't afford to invite them all... From what I can tell, most of my out-of-state cousins will be unable to make it... So that leaves primarily family and a small handful of friends. I mentioned a few people I was considering inviting that I've been out of touch with, and he asked, "do you keep up with them on Facebook?" When I responded, "no, they aren't on Facebook" he wanted to know if they'd been emailing me. I had to admit that they haven't... He said something along the lines of, "Well, there's your answer." His bluntness pained me, but perhaps it was something I needed to hear.
I have already decided to make it a goal of mine to become better connected with others in 2010. Maybe I need to "kick it up a notch"? My grandmother Millie liked to tell a story about my mom as a little girl... I guess she was lonely one day and said, "I'm going out and make a friend!" and that's exactly what she did. Inspiring! Yeah, except that it's a little easier when you're eight years old playing at the beach...
I could make it easy if I wanted to... All it takes is finding a church that is large enough to have a sizeable number of thirtysomethings, and enough groups and activities to bring them all together. I've discovered a church that fits the bill perfectly, in fact... It's five miles from home, a "megachurch" of sorts with serveral facilities and a huge congregation. It's called Rolling Hills Covenant Church. I haven't attended yet, because here's the thing... I have my moments of loneliness and I long for community, and sometimes life does seem to be too many shades of gray... But I won't "sell out" my beliefs. I can't be part of a community where I'm expected to condemn homosexuals and desperate women who turn to abortion in times of crisis. Of course, it's sugarcoated, but beneath the sweetness and "love" is intolerance. I won't do that to myself. I won't compromise my beliefs just to make some friends. I'll give the church a chance, but if I get any of those vibes, I'll stick with my life as is, thank you very much!
I saw an interesting segment on the news the other night about a group started by a Harvard Chaplain called "Good Without God"-- sounds good to me!
Yesterday I had my physical and body analysis for the weight loss program that I'm starting on Wednesday. I hesitate to do it because of E... Would it be a setback for her if she caught wind of it? The thing is, I need to lose weight. My cholesterol is suddenly high, I can't fit into my clothing, and I weigh a mere 4 pounds less than R, who has 9" of height on me. I've heard that it's a good idea to be at a healthy weight prior to pregnancy-- it's better for both mother and baby. There are plenty of reasons to proceed.
E is doing really well right now. She's still in the program at UCLA, which is a small miracle. She has even enlisted in a research study there. The physican conducting the research had an MRI taken of her brain... and it showed that the frontal lobe has lost mass. Five plus years of starvation has exacted a high price on not just her frail body but also her brain. The good news: The damage can be reversed. Every day that she spends in treatment she gives herself more of a fighting chance for a healthy future. I'm proud of her for doing what needs to be done, as tough as it is. She is working towards recovery!
A few nights ago R asked who I was inviting to our wedding. I had a hard time coming up with names... I don't think I should invite coworkers, since I can't afford to invite them all... From what I can tell, most of my out-of-state cousins will be unable to make it... So that leaves primarily family and a small handful of friends. I mentioned a few people I was considering inviting that I've been out of touch with, and he asked, "do you keep up with them on Facebook?" When I responded, "no, they aren't on Facebook" he wanted to know if they'd been emailing me. I had to admit that they haven't... He said something along the lines of, "Well, there's your answer." His bluntness pained me, but perhaps it was something I needed to hear.
I have already decided to make it a goal of mine to become better connected with others in 2010. Maybe I need to "kick it up a notch"? My grandmother Millie liked to tell a story about my mom as a little girl... I guess she was lonely one day and said, "I'm going out and make a friend!" and that's exactly what she did. Inspiring! Yeah, except that it's a little easier when you're eight years old playing at the beach...
I could make it easy if I wanted to... All it takes is finding a church that is large enough to have a sizeable number of thirtysomethings, and enough groups and activities to bring them all together. I've discovered a church that fits the bill perfectly, in fact... It's five miles from home, a "megachurch" of sorts with serveral facilities and a huge congregation. It's called Rolling Hills Covenant Church. I haven't attended yet, because here's the thing... I have my moments of loneliness and I long for community, and sometimes life does seem to be too many shades of gray... But I won't "sell out" my beliefs. I can't be part of a community where I'm expected to condemn homosexuals and desperate women who turn to abortion in times of crisis. Of course, it's sugarcoated, but beneath the sweetness and "love" is intolerance. I won't do that to myself. I won't compromise my beliefs just to make some friends. I'll give the church a chance, but if I get any of those vibes, I'll stick with my life as is, thank you very much!
I saw an interesting segment on the news the other night about a group started by a Harvard Chaplain called "Good Without God"-- sounds good to me!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Extreme Measures
In order to get my foot in the door with my current employer almost two years ago, I took an entry-level position as a transportation aide. My mom always reminds me, "all work is honorable"-- yes, so it is. Although I knew that at the time and believed it whole-heartedly (and still do) it was nevertheless hard for me to accept my lowly position. The position involved pushing patients around the medical center in wheelchairs and on gurneys, often for procedures and sometimes to the exit when they were ready to leave after an extended stay. It wasn't uncommon for me to be asked by the patients I was wheeling out of the medical center, "Are you a volunteer?" I suppose it seemed strange that an apparently well educated (or at least I like to think so!) thirtysomething year old woman would be working for peanuts as an "orderly" (the olden-day name for it). Aside from the low pay, though, it was a pretty good job. I worked independently and walked nearly all day log, logging an average of 5 to 10 miles a day on my pedometer. It wasn't intellectually stimulating, but at the end of the day I felt pretty good from the walking and from the social encounters with interesting patients, who were often more than happy to tell me about their experiences.
Now I work as a monitor technician on the Telemetry floor-- still a lowly position, but less so. Although the pay is better and there is an intellectual component to the job, it isn't nearly as satisfying. I sit for 8 hours straight, and at the end of that period I feel as though I've completed an endurance event. I'm ready for my medal! There is also very little interaction with patients and family members, but at least I'm at the nurses station where I can peek into the world I once conveted. I see it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly!
Tonight, because of staffing needs, I was floated to another floor. A nurse who hadn't seen me for a while took the opportunity to frown at me and comment, "You look different from when you worked in transportation! Your face looks different..." I've gotten extremely good at agreeing with people when they point out this obvious fact. I tell them "yes, I've gained 30 lbs. All I do is eat and sleep!" They tell me to be careful, I smile and agree good naturedlly... I don't take it personally. I think it's a cultural thing-- I usually get it from the Filipino nurses. Geographically, the Philippines are near to Malaysia, a country I spent a year in during high school. While I was there, I quickly got used to comments like, "You're fat!", "You're so big", "You have a pimple on your face!" etc.
So, on the one hand, I feel ready to kill every time I hear about how I look "different" now, but on the other hand, it's a non-issue. Yes, I look "different"-- you might even say considerably less attractive. Life goes on. Last week, a nurse on my unit asked me, "Are you sure you want to get married? Usually women lose weight before their weddings, and you don't seem to be trying, so maybe you just don't really want to get married." This time the nurse was a 50 year old caucasian woman (so I can't blame cultural differences). She prefaced her comments with, "Don't take this the wrong way"-- never a good conversation starter!
A few evenings ago, I attended an orientation for a medically managed weight loss program offered through the medical center where I work. Am I succumbing to peer pressure? I don't know anymore. Assuming I get the ok at my physical tomorrow, I will be doing a 20 week program for people with 40 lbs or more to lose. Total meal replacement, five shakes a day, baby. Yum yum.
Now I work as a monitor technician on the Telemetry floor-- still a lowly position, but less so. Although the pay is better and there is an intellectual component to the job, it isn't nearly as satisfying. I sit for 8 hours straight, and at the end of that period I feel as though I've completed an endurance event. I'm ready for my medal! There is also very little interaction with patients and family members, but at least I'm at the nurses station where I can peek into the world I once conveted. I see it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly!
Tonight, because of staffing needs, I was floated to another floor. A nurse who hadn't seen me for a while took the opportunity to frown at me and comment, "You look different from when you worked in transportation! Your face looks different..." I've gotten extremely good at agreeing with people when they point out this obvious fact. I tell them "yes, I've gained 30 lbs. All I do is eat and sleep!" They tell me to be careful, I smile and agree good naturedlly... I don't take it personally. I think it's a cultural thing-- I usually get it from the Filipino nurses. Geographically, the Philippines are near to Malaysia, a country I spent a year in during high school. While I was there, I quickly got used to comments like, "You're fat!", "You're so big", "You have a pimple on your face!" etc.
So, on the one hand, I feel ready to kill every time I hear about how I look "different" now, but on the other hand, it's a non-issue. Yes, I look "different"-- you might even say considerably less attractive. Life goes on. Last week, a nurse on my unit asked me, "Are you sure you want to get married? Usually women lose weight before their weddings, and you don't seem to be trying, so maybe you just don't really want to get married." This time the nurse was a 50 year old caucasian woman (so I can't blame cultural differences). She prefaced her comments with, "Don't take this the wrong way"-- never a good conversation starter!
A few evenings ago, I attended an orientation for a medically managed weight loss program offered through the medical center where I work. Am I succumbing to peer pressure? I don't know anymore. Assuming I get the ok at my physical tomorrow, I will be doing a 20 week program for people with 40 lbs or more to lose. Total meal replacement, five shakes a day, baby. Yum yum.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Keeping it in Perspective
My wedding day is approximately two months away and I guess you could say that I'm starting to freak out! As usual, I'm obsessing over minor details, in this case, the invitations STILL. When I got home from work this morning, I went to bed like a responsible night shifter, but then four hours later, I woke up and immediately got on the internet and began looking at all my bookmarks for wedding invitations... And that brings us to the present!
I just checked my email inbox, and one of the silhouette artists that I contacted (the one I'm most impressed with) is available on my date. Awesome! Even if I don't have a vintage style wedding at the lighthouse complete with a piano rag processional, I think this would still be a really neat detail for the day! Theme, shmeem! Sometimes in life I have a tendency to want everything to be all matchy-matchy (from clothing items to my desire for the wedding invitations to be in the colors of the wedding), and matchy-matchy may look nice, but it often misses the point! Here's an example: Ask a three year old to dress himself, and chances are he will pick out things from the closet that make him happy or that feel nice against his skin. He doesn't care that stripes don't go with dots, or that three different shades of blue can be a bit much! He picked out his clothing, he's feeling good, and isn't that enough?
I need to adopt a similar perspective. My wedding is not going to be a celebrity event featured on the pages of People Magazine. Martha Stewart is not going to be dropping by to get ideas for her next magazine spread, either. And truth be told, the guests probably couldn't care less what the invitation looks like. It will arrive in the mail, they'll rip it open, they'll think "nice invitation" for all of thirty seconds or maybe they'll immediately set it down and let out a groan at the thought of having to go shopping for yet another wedding gift. It probably won't get a second thought.
Why not invest my wedding dollars where they'll count? Having a silhouette artist at the wedding has the potential to be special for everyone. It will give me a unique keepsake of the wonderful people who came out to celebrate with me, and it will give my guests something to take home that reflects who they are... Instead of yet another dust catcher emblazoned with our names. I mean, come on... Do people really need a tin of mints with my name on them? Probably the best wedding favor I ever got was a bag of ground coffee-- we drank it.
So I think I will book the silhouette artist. It's expensive, but I think it's money well spent. I will also hereby cease with all worries about invitations. People will get what they get, and they'll like it gosh darn it! Or they won't, but anyway, it's time to move on!
I just checked my email inbox, and one of the silhouette artists that I contacted (the one I'm most impressed with) is available on my date. Awesome! Even if I don't have a vintage style wedding at the lighthouse complete with a piano rag processional, I think this would still be a really neat detail for the day! Theme, shmeem! Sometimes in life I have a tendency to want everything to be all matchy-matchy (from clothing items to my desire for the wedding invitations to be in the colors of the wedding), and matchy-matchy may look nice, but it often misses the point! Here's an example: Ask a three year old to dress himself, and chances are he will pick out things from the closet that make him happy or that feel nice against his skin. He doesn't care that stripes don't go with dots, or that three different shades of blue can be a bit much! He picked out his clothing, he's feeling good, and isn't that enough?
I need to adopt a similar perspective. My wedding is not going to be a celebrity event featured on the pages of People Magazine. Martha Stewart is not going to be dropping by to get ideas for her next magazine spread, either. And truth be told, the guests probably couldn't care less what the invitation looks like. It will arrive in the mail, they'll rip it open, they'll think "nice invitation" for all of thirty seconds or maybe they'll immediately set it down and let out a groan at the thought of having to go shopping for yet another wedding gift. It probably won't get a second thought.
Why not invest my wedding dollars where they'll count? Having a silhouette artist at the wedding has the potential to be special for everyone. It will give me a unique keepsake of the wonderful people who came out to celebrate with me, and it will give my guests something to take home that reflects who they are... Instead of yet another dust catcher emblazoned with our names. I mean, come on... Do people really need a tin of mints with my name on them? Probably the best wedding favor I ever got was a bag of ground coffee-- we drank it.
So I think I will book the silhouette artist. It's expensive, but I think it's money well spent. I will also hereby cease with all worries about invitations. People will get what they get, and they'll like it gosh darn it! Or they won't, but anyway, it's time to move on!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Winners, Losers, Boozers, Schmoozers...
Labels aren't nice. So why did I label myself a quitter a few posts ago? It wasn't kind (hey, where's the self love?!) and it wasn't entirely deserved. I haven't quit on everything in life! When I've chosen to walk away from things, usually there has been a good reason. Example: You can't do anything but quit on a relationship in which the other party has quit on you! So yeah, I've quit on love a few times, but it was the only choice I had. I'm a big fan of the expression, "If you love somebody, set them free." (thanks, Sting). Love is supposed to be about the other person, so in a loving relationship it's essential to think of that person's well being. Maybe that's why parenthood scares the bejeebers out of me! A loving parent must understand and accept that a child is not a piece of property and cannot be treated as such. To be a good parent, one must be willing to let go.
I don't believe in gripping onto things too tightly in life. As a general rule, I give the people who are dear to me a lot of freedom... It's the only way that relationships work! At times it probably seems like I don't care about the people I call my friends... but I've never intentionally quit on any of them. So that leaves only two categories of things I've quit on per my post of a few days ago... Academic plans and career choices.
Sometimes quitting is a necessary part of survival... It's not all bad! I've quit on my academic plans a few times. Here's a quick run-down: Quit on nursing, quit on biology... Wow, that's actually a pretty short list! I thought it was much worse than that. Why did I quit? Well, my choice to become a nurse was made at the ripe old age of 17. It was a choice I made with nothing but good intentions. I wanted a stable career in which I could "help people" (so original!). I was highly motivated and began the RN program at GoldenWest College at age 20... Per some highly unscientific sampling that was done by one of the instructors on a nursing club field trip, I was the youngest in the class. In fact, the average student in the program was 33 or 34, with a large percentage of working moms in the mix. Many of the students were already working in some capacity in the health care environment.
Little old me, I was as green as they come! Not only had I not worked in health care, I had not so much as set foot in a hospital and had never had a real job either. I wasn't exactly a natural as a student nurse- I was slow, awkward, and unsure of myself. Although I didn't do anything wrong (not really), I caught the ire of my instructors. I guess I was perceived as someone who required hand-holding and would ultimately not be safe or successful. I was placed on probation for my less than remarkable performance in the clinical setting, and when my final clinical instructor (the excellent but scary former oncology nurse Ann T.) had the option of passing me, she "took a pass." I was asked to leave the program, with the option of coming back in a year to start over. A few years later, shortly after my dad was diagnosed with ALS, I reapplied to the program. I had spent several years working as an EMT and felt more than capable. I was accepted to the program, but this time I took a pass and decided not to return.
So, does that make me a quitter? No, not really. In addition to being accepted to restart the program, I was accepted to several UC schools to study Biology. During my tenure as an EMT, I had knocked out all the lower division science major classes (including two years of Chemistry). My failure as a nursing student had compelled me to set my sights elsewhere. I was thinking more along the lines of Physical Therapy or even medicine. I decided that some other career in health care would suit me better, having heard from several nursing instructors and practicing nurses that "nurses eat their young." I had also been accused as a student nurse of "not understanding the role of a nurse". Registered nurses are supposed to diagnose and treat a patients' response to their illness (on a psychological, social, and even spiritual level)... they aren't supposed to be task-oriented, but that's the reality of nursing. It's all very convoluted. In hindsight, I'm not sorry I quit on my original career plans!
Biology is another story. I began my studies as a transfer student at UC Berkeley with every intention of earning a bio degree, but this time life threw me for a loop. It was my first semester as a transfer student, and I was taking two science classes: Genetics and another one called Physiology, Structure, and Biomechanics. I was also taking a few nonscience classes, including Introduction to Environmental Design (ED being the fields of Architecture, Landscape Architecture, and City Planning). I remember sitting in a lecture for the Physiology class and hearing about how the technology exists to create artifical muscle and nervous tissues (a la bioengineering), but the cost of implementation is prohibitive. Meanwhile, approximately 350 miles away, my dad's muscles were wasting away from ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), a disease in which motor neurons (the nerves that control skeletal muscle) cease to function.
So in other words, as my dad was slowly dying from an incurable disease, I was sitting in class learning that technolgy that could potentially save his life existed but was too impractical to implement. It was too much for me to hear. My ED class, however, was pure joy. Feeling on the verge of emotional collapse, I changed my major. Was it quitting? Yes. Was it necessary? I think so. When I consider my mental health at the time, I don't think I would have made it as a bio major. I think I would have been circling the drain emotionally. It makes me extremely sad to think that I quit, but I'm proud to say that I earned an undergraduate degree from UC Berkeley with a very respectable 3.8 GPA in my major.
So that leaves us with the final "quitter" category of career choices. What a can of worms! I think I'd better leave that for another day!
I don't believe in gripping onto things too tightly in life. As a general rule, I give the people who are dear to me a lot of freedom... It's the only way that relationships work! At times it probably seems like I don't care about the people I call my friends... but I've never intentionally quit on any of them. So that leaves only two categories of things I've quit on per my post of a few days ago... Academic plans and career choices.
Sometimes quitting is a necessary part of survival... It's not all bad! I've quit on my academic plans a few times. Here's a quick run-down: Quit on nursing, quit on biology... Wow, that's actually a pretty short list! I thought it was much worse than that. Why did I quit? Well, my choice to become a nurse was made at the ripe old age of 17. It was a choice I made with nothing but good intentions. I wanted a stable career in which I could "help people" (so original!). I was highly motivated and began the RN program at GoldenWest College at age 20... Per some highly unscientific sampling that was done by one of the instructors on a nursing club field trip, I was the youngest in the class. In fact, the average student in the program was 33 or 34, with a large percentage of working moms in the mix. Many of the students were already working in some capacity in the health care environment.
Little old me, I was as green as they come! Not only had I not worked in health care, I had not so much as set foot in a hospital and had never had a real job either. I wasn't exactly a natural as a student nurse- I was slow, awkward, and unsure of myself. Although I didn't do anything wrong (not really), I caught the ire of my instructors. I guess I was perceived as someone who required hand-holding and would ultimately not be safe or successful. I was placed on probation for my less than remarkable performance in the clinical setting, and when my final clinical instructor (the excellent but scary former oncology nurse Ann T.) had the option of passing me, she "took a pass." I was asked to leave the program, with the option of coming back in a year to start over. A few years later, shortly after my dad was diagnosed with ALS, I reapplied to the program. I had spent several years working as an EMT and felt more than capable. I was accepted to the program, but this time I took a pass and decided not to return.
So, does that make me a quitter? No, not really. In addition to being accepted to restart the program, I was accepted to several UC schools to study Biology. During my tenure as an EMT, I had knocked out all the lower division science major classes (including two years of Chemistry). My failure as a nursing student had compelled me to set my sights elsewhere. I was thinking more along the lines of Physical Therapy or even medicine. I decided that some other career in health care would suit me better, having heard from several nursing instructors and practicing nurses that "nurses eat their young." I had also been accused as a student nurse of "not understanding the role of a nurse". Registered nurses are supposed to diagnose and treat a patients' response to their illness (on a psychological, social, and even spiritual level)... they aren't supposed to be task-oriented, but that's the reality of nursing. It's all very convoluted. In hindsight, I'm not sorry I quit on my original career plans!
Biology is another story. I began my studies as a transfer student at UC Berkeley with every intention of earning a bio degree, but this time life threw me for a loop. It was my first semester as a transfer student, and I was taking two science classes: Genetics and another one called Physiology, Structure, and Biomechanics. I was also taking a few nonscience classes, including Introduction to Environmental Design (ED being the fields of Architecture, Landscape Architecture, and City Planning). I remember sitting in a lecture for the Physiology class and hearing about how the technology exists to create artifical muscle and nervous tissues (a la bioengineering), but the cost of implementation is prohibitive. Meanwhile, approximately 350 miles away, my dad's muscles were wasting away from ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), a disease in which motor neurons (the nerves that control skeletal muscle) cease to function.
So in other words, as my dad was slowly dying from an incurable disease, I was sitting in class learning that technolgy that could potentially save his life existed but was too impractical to implement. It was too much for me to hear. My ED class, however, was pure joy. Feeling on the verge of emotional collapse, I changed my major. Was it quitting? Yes. Was it necessary? I think so. When I consider my mental health at the time, I don't think I would have made it as a bio major. I think I would have been circling the drain emotionally. It makes me extremely sad to think that I quit, but I'm proud to say that I earned an undergraduate degree from UC Berkeley with a very respectable 3.8 GPA in my major.
So that leaves us with the final "quitter" category of career choices. What a can of worms! I think I'd better leave that for another day!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I'm Thankful for Stairs!
Hooray for the stairs at work. After climbing them this morning I felt so much better! That's my medicine right now. I got an added dose of warm fuzzy feelings shortly after my stairs workout. Literally just as I was driving out of the parking structure, R was pulling in. It's fun when we bump into one another! It doesn't happen every day. Now I'm home, about to shower and go to bed, and I feel like a new person. The awesome thing about bad days is that you appreciate the good ones so much more!
So here's to bad days, here's to good days, and here's to stairs!
So here's to bad days, here's to good days, and here's to stairs!
Survival of the Fittest
A funny thing happened during the year after my grandmother died- I started to have knee pain. I've always been in good health, so it seemed a little odd. I couldn't recall any traumatic event, but I figured I could have done something to it in the process of moving all of my furniture and belongings into the condo where I lived with R before we bought the house. I did it all myself over the course of a week or two- I just kept filling up my trusty Saturn Vue, which is surprisingly spacious, and making the 45 minute drive from Whittier to Torrance.
At one point I had a huge, heavy pine armoire to move. R undoubtedly would have helped me with it, but he worked during the week, and I was determined to do it myself. I guess I can be stubborn that way. I remember tipping it on it's side and literally pulling it down the hills that comprised my grandmother's yard. I pulled it on a sheet. It suffered some wear, but I did it. I remember feeling so lost and angry at the time, and pushing and pulling heavy furniture (that would have been a challenge for a man) was therapeutic. Over the course of moving everything (that piece included) I often balanced things on my knee or used my body for leverage. So when I developed the knee problem some months later, that seemed like the most likely explanation.
In hindsight, I think it was depression-related. I think that somehow, when we are severely depressed and/or stressed, our bodies begin to self-destruct. I can't prove that what I experienced was some sort of autoimmune condition, but that's what my gut tells me.
My symptoms at first consisted of knee pain that worsened in certain positions and a restricted range of motion. The first provider that I saw was an Orthopedic PA. He diagnosed "Chondromalacia Patella"- a condition that seems to have all the legitimacy of Fibromyalgia (sorry Fibromyalgia sufferers, but I've only known one person with the condition, and she was a hypochondriac at best). I read up on the condition, and his diagnosis seemed rather far off the mark. Then my condition worsened to the point where I could not walk without limping, and along with that I began to feel a hard foreign body in the joint. By "feel" I mean that I could physically manipulate a marble-like object that came to the surface of the joint when my leg was moved into certain positions. It was freakish. An MRI was ordered and I was referred to an Orthopedic Surgeon. He performed arthroscopy on the joint and removed many foreign bodies- pieces of cartilage in various states of calcification. The largest (the one I could feel and move around) is now my souvenir from the surgery- he saved it for me in a specimen container. It's huge! It's no wonder I was having trouble. He described what he saw inside the joint as being like "a plantation"- the cartilage was growing in a way that it shouldn't have been. He removed what he could, but it ended up coming back, so a year or so later I had another arthroscopy, and this time it included a synovectomy (removal of the joint lining from which the wayward cartilage was growing). Things are great now, but I'll never forget what it was like to have severe joint pain and to walk with a limp. I have a collection of knee braces in the closet that further remind me of the experience.
Between the depression and the knee problems, I'm often reminded that I would be lost without modern medicine. It's frustrating to feel "weak"- to feel as though I would be a liability if I lived in a different era. Come to think of it, I sometimes feel like a liability anyway. What do we value in our society? One of the traits that is praised and held up as an American ideal is a fighting spirit; "stick-to-it-iveness". I don't fight very well. In fact I guess I give up pretty easily. In this society, few things are as bad as being a "quitter". But that's who I seem to be. I quit on relationships, academic plans, careers... I don't quit completely, but I allow myself to be deterred. It's easy to redirect my energies elsewhere- a new relationship, a new academic plan, a new career.
I suspect I gave up on a career in planning too quickly. The experience with the County of Los Angeles left a bad taste in my mouth. There is a lot that I didn't do right, and of course my employer was fully justified in terminating my employment. I didn't complete the writing assignment and therefore I didn't pass probation... Simple, right? No. My supervisor had discretion, and opted not to work with me. For whatever reason, she didn't like me enough to want to keep me in her department. So here is the age-old question... What's wrong with me?? What is so horrible about me that people don't want to give me a chance??
Everyone on earth has undoubtedly wondered this at one point or another, and I sure don't lose sleep over it... but when I consider parenthood, I sometimes feel that it would be cruel to pass along my genes. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. It truly is survival of the fittest, and I'm not very fit. It has been a struggle to get this far in life, and I fully expect it to continue to be.
At one point I had a huge, heavy pine armoire to move. R undoubtedly would have helped me with it, but he worked during the week, and I was determined to do it myself. I guess I can be stubborn that way. I remember tipping it on it's side and literally pulling it down the hills that comprised my grandmother's yard. I pulled it on a sheet. It suffered some wear, but I did it. I remember feeling so lost and angry at the time, and pushing and pulling heavy furniture (that would have been a challenge for a man) was therapeutic. Over the course of moving everything (that piece included) I often balanced things on my knee or used my body for leverage. So when I developed the knee problem some months later, that seemed like the most likely explanation.
In hindsight, I think it was depression-related. I think that somehow, when we are severely depressed and/or stressed, our bodies begin to self-destruct. I can't prove that what I experienced was some sort of autoimmune condition, but that's what my gut tells me.
My symptoms at first consisted of knee pain that worsened in certain positions and a restricted range of motion. The first provider that I saw was an Orthopedic PA. He diagnosed "Chondromalacia Patella"- a condition that seems to have all the legitimacy of Fibromyalgia (sorry Fibromyalgia sufferers, but I've only known one person with the condition, and she was a hypochondriac at best). I read up on the condition, and his diagnosis seemed rather far off the mark. Then my condition worsened to the point where I could not walk without limping, and along with that I began to feel a hard foreign body in the joint. By "feel" I mean that I could physically manipulate a marble-like object that came to the surface of the joint when my leg was moved into certain positions. It was freakish. An MRI was ordered and I was referred to an Orthopedic Surgeon. He performed arthroscopy on the joint and removed many foreign bodies- pieces of cartilage in various states of calcification. The largest (the one I could feel and move around) is now my souvenir from the surgery- he saved it for me in a specimen container. It's huge! It's no wonder I was having trouble. He described what he saw inside the joint as being like "a plantation"- the cartilage was growing in a way that it shouldn't have been. He removed what he could, but it ended up coming back, so a year or so later I had another arthroscopy, and this time it included a synovectomy (removal of the joint lining from which the wayward cartilage was growing). Things are great now, but I'll never forget what it was like to have severe joint pain and to walk with a limp. I have a collection of knee braces in the closet that further remind me of the experience.
Between the depression and the knee problems, I'm often reminded that I would be lost without modern medicine. It's frustrating to feel "weak"- to feel as though I would be a liability if I lived in a different era. Come to think of it, I sometimes feel like a liability anyway. What do we value in our society? One of the traits that is praised and held up as an American ideal is a fighting spirit; "stick-to-it-iveness". I don't fight very well. In fact I guess I give up pretty easily. In this society, few things are as bad as being a "quitter". But that's who I seem to be. I quit on relationships, academic plans, careers... I don't quit completely, but I allow myself to be deterred. It's easy to redirect my energies elsewhere- a new relationship, a new academic plan, a new career.
I suspect I gave up on a career in planning too quickly. The experience with the County of Los Angeles left a bad taste in my mouth. There is a lot that I didn't do right, and of course my employer was fully justified in terminating my employment. I didn't complete the writing assignment and therefore I didn't pass probation... Simple, right? No. My supervisor had discretion, and opted not to work with me. For whatever reason, she didn't like me enough to want to keep me in her department. So here is the age-old question... What's wrong with me?? What is so horrible about me that people don't want to give me a chance??
Everyone on earth has undoubtedly wondered this at one point or another, and I sure don't lose sleep over it... but when I consider parenthood, I sometimes feel that it would be cruel to pass along my genes. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. It truly is survival of the fittest, and I'm not very fit. It has been a struggle to get this far in life, and I fully expect it to continue to be.
Monday, January 11, 2010
No Bueno
Having a yucky day... I'm not sure why. I find myself thinking about all kinds of sad things, like my dad... Like a little ball of cells that could have been a baby if I hadn't miscarried way back when... That one shouldn't matter. It wasn't planned, just a little ball of cells that didn't even have a heartbeat yet. Early miscarriage is very common, and the ball of cells wasn't exactly received with open arms at the time, so why mourn? Why am I even thinking about it? I guess because that was just one more piece of the life that I wanted that died and is gone forever. So much of the life that I wanted has slipped through my fingers. It's all dust anyway, so why am I fighting it? Why am I arguing with the natural order of life? Life is life and death.
I'm alone this evening because R is visiting E at UCLA, as he should. If his visits will make the difference between her success and failure, then as far as I'm concerned he should be there 24-7. Unfortunately, it isn't that simple. And sadly, anorexia is a lot like drug addiction. If the addict isn't ready to change, you can do everything for them and it won't matter. Early in E's treatment, she was very manipulative of the people around her. She also was determined to fight treatment every step of the way. There was always a reason why this program was bad or that doctor was wrong... And she played her parents against one another. At one point, Kaiser (which she has through her dad) wasn't good enough. She convinced her mom of this, so her mom sought treatment for her through her own insurance. Unfortunately, what she had was an 80/20 policy. R had no idea, or he probably would have insisted she stay with Kaiser (which is full coverage). With treatment bills in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, an 80/20 policy is not such a good thing! What was her share of the bill when all was said and done? 20K? 40K? I have no idea. The thing is, I don't think E understood. It was all a game at that point in time. The game included lying, running away from hospitals and treatment facilities in the middle of the night... So much drama. It has been hard. I'm not even her parent and I feel the burden.
But getting back to what I started to say... her disorder is like drug addiction. You hear stories about parents who give up everything in the hope that they might save their addict child. They take out additional mortgages to pay for expensive treatment and they continue to receive that child with open arms regardless of how they are treated... In fact, they would rip their own hearts out for their children. That's the nature of parenthood.
I don't think that R would give up everything for E. He has more of a "tough love" stance. I think that's hard for her to accept. Her mom has been willing to drop everything for her, at a moments notice. R has not given everything up for his daughter, but he has been there. I think he has been a good dad throughout this journey. It hasn't been easy on me... I remember in the beginning of our relationship there were many lonely nights like this one. Or urgent phone calls in the middle of the night. There has also been the toll that it has taken on him... The anger, the grief, the exhaustion. The more it takes from him, the less I get.
But I'm not angry. I'm thankful for him. He was a part of my life when I was losing my grandmother to cancer. When she died, he invited me to move in with him. Without him, where would I be? Homeless? Maybe. We have been there for one another in difficult times, "for better or for worse." That part of our marriage vows should be easy. I'm lucky to have him and also thankful for E. I look forward to the day when she is able to have a full life without anorexia.
As for me, I'm just tired. I hope depression isn't creeping back in. When I had a bad day a week or two ago, I thought maybe it was. It turns out it was PMS. Wow, I've never been so happy about PMS before! Before I realized that was what was going on, I filled up my pill holder with antidepressants. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. I didn't take any of them. A few days ago, I dumped all the pills back into the bottle and put everything away at the top of the closet. Now I'm thinking about pulling it all back out!
I'm alone this evening because R is visiting E at UCLA, as he should. If his visits will make the difference between her success and failure, then as far as I'm concerned he should be there 24-7. Unfortunately, it isn't that simple. And sadly, anorexia is a lot like drug addiction. If the addict isn't ready to change, you can do everything for them and it won't matter. Early in E's treatment, she was very manipulative of the people around her. She also was determined to fight treatment every step of the way. There was always a reason why this program was bad or that doctor was wrong... And she played her parents against one another. At one point, Kaiser (which she has through her dad) wasn't good enough. She convinced her mom of this, so her mom sought treatment for her through her own insurance. Unfortunately, what she had was an 80/20 policy. R had no idea, or he probably would have insisted she stay with Kaiser (which is full coverage). With treatment bills in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, an 80/20 policy is not such a good thing! What was her share of the bill when all was said and done? 20K? 40K? I have no idea. The thing is, I don't think E understood. It was all a game at that point in time. The game included lying, running away from hospitals and treatment facilities in the middle of the night... So much drama. It has been hard. I'm not even her parent and I feel the burden.
But getting back to what I started to say... her disorder is like drug addiction. You hear stories about parents who give up everything in the hope that they might save their addict child. They take out additional mortgages to pay for expensive treatment and they continue to receive that child with open arms regardless of how they are treated... In fact, they would rip their own hearts out for their children. That's the nature of parenthood.
I don't think that R would give up everything for E. He has more of a "tough love" stance. I think that's hard for her to accept. Her mom has been willing to drop everything for her, at a moments notice. R has not given everything up for his daughter, but he has been there. I think he has been a good dad throughout this journey. It hasn't been easy on me... I remember in the beginning of our relationship there were many lonely nights like this one. Or urgent phone calls in the middle of the night. There has also been the toll that it has taken on him... The anger, the grief, the exhaustion. The more it takes from him, the less I get.
But I'm not angry. I'm thankful for him. He was a part of my life when I was losing my grandmother to cancer. When she died, he invited me to move in with him. Without him, where would I be? Homeless? Maybe. We have been there for one another in difficult times, "for better or for worse." That part of our marriage vows should be easy. I'm lucky to have him and also thankful for E. I look forward to the day when she is able to have a full life without anorexia.
As for me, I'm just tired. I hope depression isn't creeping back in. When I had a bad day a week or two ago, I thought maybe it was. It turns out it was PMS. Wow, I've never been so happy about PMS before! Before I realized that was what was going on, I filled up my pill holder with antidepressants. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. I didn't take any of them. A few days ago, I dumped all the pills back into the bottle and put everything away at the top of the closet. Now I'm thinking about pulling it all back out!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
EU
I'm calling this post the EU (European Union, you ask? No, it's short for E Update). As I noted in a previous post, my stepdaughter-to-be recently decided on her own to seek treatment for the severe eating disorder that has plagued her since jr. high school. She has been in and out of treatment since I first met her dad five and a half years ago, for the most part without success. I can't recall the exact number of programs she has tried, but I think there have been at least 6 (and a few of those multiple times), the last being the program that she entered in Arizona on Christmas day. She came home after just over a week there, but then took the proactive step of seeking admission to UCLA.
She has been to UCLA before, but it was as an adolescent and now at age 19, she qualifies for the adult program. She started the program on Friday. This program is housed in a brand-new facility and is limited to 6 adults. The fact that it's a smaller group is a huge blessing... One of the problems with treatment programs is that the patients often use one another as a resource for gleaning new tips to perfect the craft of not eating. E is far beyond the point of needing tips-- if anorexia were an Olympic sport, she would be a gold medalist many times over. Her dad and I often remark that if she could devote the same energy that she has devoted to anorexia to other pursuits, she might have found a cure for cancer by now. Therein lies a strength and pitfall of eating disorder patients-- often they are extremely bright and extremely competitive. Not only are treatment facilities utilized by patients as an opportunity to share information, they are also the perfect arena for showing off one's skills and competing with one another.
I would like to take the opportunity here in my blog to thank God that E is in treatment. However, even among a group limited to five other individuals, it is going to be tough for her to put aside her desire to be the best anorexic. Already she has been asking her dad to smuggle in the contraband items of gum and mints. Her body is in treatment, but her mind isn't quite there yet. I know that getting better is the hardest thing she has ever had to do. I know that I probably am writing into a vacuum with this blog (it's more therapeutic for me than anything else) but if anyone is out there, please send positive thoughts and prayers her way.
She has been to UCLA before, but it was as an adolescent and now at age 19, she qualifies for the adult program. She started the program on Friday. This program is housed in a brand-new facility and is limited to 6 adults. The fact that it's a smaller group is a huge blessing... One of the problems with treatment programs is that the patients often use one another as a resource for gleaning new tips to perfect the craft of not eating. E is far beyond the point of needing tips-- if anorexia were an Olympic sport, she would be a gold medalist many times over. Her dad and I often remark that if she could devote the same energy that she has devoted to anorexia to other pursuits, she might have found a cure for cancer by now. Therein lies a strength and pitfall of eating disorder patients-- often they are extremely bright and extremely competitive. Not only are treatment facilities utilized by patients as an opportunity to share information, they are also the perfect arena for showing off one's skills and competing with one another.
I would like to take the opportunity here in my blog to thank God that E is in treatment. However, even among a group limited to five other individuals, it is going to be tough for her to put aside her desire to be the best anorexic. Already she has been asking her dad to smuggle in the contraband items of gum and mints. Her body is in treatment, but her mind isn't quite there yet. I know that getting better is the hardest thing she has ever had to do. I know that I probably am writing into a vacuum with this blog (it's more therapeutic for me than anything else) but if anyone is out there, please send positive thoughts and prayers her way.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Sometimes Decisions are Made for You
Yesterday I went to inquire about switching the wedding ceremony location... As I suspected long ago, it isn't possible to have the ceremony in the enclosed "yard" of the Point Fermin Lighthouse (or at least it isn't possible to get approval to do so via the LA City Parks and Rec- as they don't operate the Lighthouse).
If I want a Lighthouse wedding, the best LA City Parks can offer is the huge tree just east of the Lighthouse. The tree is beautiful, and I discovered something about it months ago that makes it especially cool: among the many initials and things that have been carved into the trunk of the tree is a large heart with R+S in the center. Awesome! I showed it to R, but we both agree that if we can't get married at the Lighthouse, we'd rather stick with the Bell. So that's that! All my angst of a few days ago was for naught.
I still find myself thinking about the lace dress, but I should probably just let it go. Can you tell that I have commitment issues? It's amazing that I'm actually getting married! I second guess everything.
I still find myself thinking about the lace dress, but I should probably just let it go. Can you tell that I have commitment issues? It's amazing that I'm actually getting married! I second guess everything.
Sold
The house across the street is now sporting a 'sold' placard on the real estate sign!
Wow, that seemed kind of fast. Well, the house was a bargain for this neighborhood (as was ours approximately two years ago) so I guess I shouldn't be surprised at all. Now begins the waiting and wondering for us... Who will our new neighbors be? Will they be older? Younger? A couple? A family? What are their plans? The only people I've actually seen poking around the property was a group of three men.... contractors, perhaps? The flipping of homes is a far less profitable pastime in today's economy, but I suppose that individuals with deep pockets who target desirable neighborhoods can still make it work. No McMansions, please! There are a few larger homes on the street already, and they are ok... I wouldn't say they disrupt the character of the neighborhood (how does one disrupt a tract of ranch houses, after all) but a big house could potentially contain a super-big family, and we love our quiet more than anything! It's one of the major perks of the neighborhood.
The house does need serious attention, so construction mess and construction noise is inevitable. Working nights means I'll be home during the day to witness and attempt to sleep through it. Whatever is done, I hope it's done quickly! I really don't care if the new owners build up... We don't have a view as it is, and if they build up we will at least have a completed house to fashion our own addition around when the time is right. And anyway, with the steep hill that makes up a chunk of our yard, we will never have our view taken away-- we will just need to position the deck (that I'm dreaming about-- my #1 project once we've paid off the wedding!) a little further up the hill.
Gosh, I sound so NIMBY-ish about this whole thing! I'm not... In fact I look forward to having new neighbors to get to know. The woman who owned the house previously was ill-- we never saw her. The only people we actually saw were a staff of Filipino nurses coming and going with groceries and such. It's sad... The original owners of these homes are at that precarious age, where if you're lucky enough to be mentally fit for homeownership, you are probably suffering from physical ailments. One of the neighbors said that she would have been the one welcoming us into the neighborhood if she had been well. I love the members of my grandparents' generation. Such good people! They earned the nickname, 'The Greatest Generation' and I think it's fitting. They will be missed! I know I miss my grandparents every day.
Wow, that seemed kind of fast. Well, the house was a bargain for this neighborhood (as was ours approximately two years ago) so I guess I shouldn't be surprised at all. Now begins the waiting and wondering for us... Who will our new neighbors be? Will they be older? Younger? A couple? A family? What are their plans? The only people I've actually seen poking around the property was a group of three men.... contractors, perhaps? The flipping of homes is a far less profitable pastime in today's economy, but I suppose that individuals with deep pockets who target desirable neighborhoods can still make it work. No McMansions, please! There are a few larger homes on the street already, and they are ok... I wouldn't say they disrupt the character of the neighborhood (how does one disrupt a tract of ranch houses, after all) but a big house could potentially contain a super-big family, and we love our quiet more than anything! It's one of the major perks of the neighborhood.
The house does need serious attention, so construction mess and construction noise is inevitable. Working nights means I'll be home during the day to witness and attempt to sleep through it. Whatever is done, I hope it's done quickly! I really don't care if the new owners build up... We don't have a view as it is, and if they build up we will at least have a completed house to fashion our own addition around when the time is right. And anyway, with the steep hill that makes up a chunk of our yard, we will never have our view taken away-- we will just need to position the deck (that I'm dreaming about-- my #1 project once we've paid off the wedding!) a little further up the hill.
Gosh, I sound so NIMBY-ish about this whole thing! I'm not... In fact I look forward to having new neighbors to get to know. The woman who owned the house previously was ill-- we never saw her. The only people we actually saw were a staff of Filipino nurses coming and going with groceries and such. It's sad... The original owners of these homes are at that precarious age, where if you're lucky enough to be mentally fit for homeownership, you are probably suffering from physical ailments. One of the neighbors said that she would have been the one welcoming us into the neighborhood if she had been well. I love the members of my grandparents' generation. Such good people! They earned the nickname, 'The Greatest Generation' and I think it's fitting. They will be missed! I know I miss my grandparents every day.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Wedding Second Thoughts
With approximately 2 1/2 months until wedding day, I'm having my doubts. About the groom? About the institution of marriage in general? No, fortunately, I'm sure of myself on these critically important fronts! The groom is amazing- I couldn't ask for better. I'm for marriage, although I firmly believe that it should be open to all. Why some religious groups have decided to make it their mission (no, vendetta) to exclude certain groups from participation in marriage baffles me. It is SO wrong.
Pardon me while I blather on about this issue for a minute:
Back to my original post... I'm having my doubts about my wedding planning. The problem is that I have three gowns. Yep, three! and they are all very different. Each gown inspires dreams of a completely unique wedding, one that is not interchangeable with the other two! How could I have let this happen?? Blame ebay.
Once upon a time, I had only one wedding gown. This was way back in 2007, shortly after R proposed. At the time, I was still employed with the county and making good money (sadly, even with the shift differential that I get by working nights and the extra pay that I get by forgoing my benefits, I still make only about 75% of my former pay!). Although it didn't seem like it at the time, I probably could have afforded to buy a new gown. But always budget minded and looking to maximize "return on investment", I decided to get my gown at a charity event. It was the perfect "win-win" scenario- I would get a gently used gown, and Brides Against Breast Cancer would get the profit (gowns are donated to the event, then sold at very reasonable prices).
My mom met me at the event after work one evening. I worked 10 hour shifts in downtown LA at the time, and I remember being very tired but happy to be participating. My main goal for finding a dress was that I didn't want strapless. To me, strapless anything is uncomfortable, and I thought that the strapless "look" was played out. Sure, it can be very elegant and provides a nice backdrop for showcasing jewelry, but YUCK. It just wasn't my style. What I really wanted was something with a deep V-neck and tank style straps (no spaghetti straps- they're almost as bad as strapless!).
Kudos to my mom for finding a beautiful gown for me. While I was in the mass changing area, she came back with it. It was a halter gown (not quite what I wanted, but with a similar look) made of a diamond-white crinkle organza. It has the V-neck that I like, a flattering ruched waist, a sheer overlay on the skirt, a short train.... It's lovely- simple but not plain, modern but not flashy.
The V-neck is lightly embellished with crystals and silver and clear bugle beads. Best of all, the dress looked really nice on me (although it was several sizes too big at the time and needed altering). When I tried it on, event photographers quickly descended on my mom and I and snapped a few shots... I guess it was a picture perfect moment, my mom and I with a gown that sure seemed to be "the one". It suited me because I had the "modern bride" look going on at the time. Shortly after starting at the county, I had more than 12" of length cut from my hair- I wanted a fresh start. The short do was nice with the halter style gown- it was a winning combination! My dear mom bought me the dress, a matching veil, and even a pink event garment bag. It was special, very much a mother-daughter occasion (rather Norman Rockwell!).
I bought my second gown several months later on ebay.
Although I loved the first gown, I had a few issues with it. Firstly, there was the fact that it was a tent on me and definitely needed alterations. Secondly, diamond white is a tough color to match! It's not quite ivory, not quite white... It just seemed like it was going to be a major chore to obtain a matching flower girl dress and other accessories. Thirdly, and maybe most significantly, the halter neckline left my back totally exposed, and I felt self-conscious. My back is not pretty! Not at all! Why show it off?
I guess I was feeling a bit snobby, too. When I found a pure silk Watter's gown on ebay in my size, I had to have it. It had been a floor sample but was in perfect shape. The only problem-- it was missing the crystal embellished belt that is paired with it, so I got it at a steal of a price. It arrived at my house packed up into a small cardboard box-- I shook it out and it regained it's shape almost immediately. It, too, is a beautiful gown, made of a stiff ivory silk gazar that holds it's shape extremely well. When I put it on, I immediately felt like a princess. It is (gasp!) strapless, but I like it anyway. It's very classic/timeless looking and truly fit me like a glove... No alterations necessary! Woo hoo! You would think I'd be content, right? Alas, no!
What I really wanted was a lace gown, so I kept scouring ebay, and there it was. A Pronovias Laura.
Brand new with tags, never tried on... The style wasn't quite what I wanted, but the price was right! I scooped it up. Now, I must say, I seriously doubt it was a genuine Pronovias. It's a beautiful gown, and the quality seems to be very good, but you know what they say about things that seem to be too good to be true (especially on ebay!). Anyway, I really liked the gown, but it was mermaid style and I didn't like the top part of it... So I took it apart. I had the brilliant idea of layering the lace over gown #2 to give it some interest. It was a great idea! It looked lovely.
I say "looked" (past tense) because gown #2 no longer fits me. In fact, gown #1 (the halter style that was a tent) is now perfect, perhaps even slightly snug! This has been the case for a few months, so I basically chose gown #1 by default. I've been planning my wedding around it, but now I'm having second thoughts. I love the gown that's in pieces! If I could put it back together more or less the way it was before, I would wear it. It was great by itself (forget about the whole layering over gown #2 concept). Unfortunately, when I took it apart, I cut into the liner. The only way I'll be able to wear it now is if I have a new liner sewn, and is there really time for that?
More importantly, though, is what I mentioned at the start of this post: each gown has it's own unique style. The wedding I have in mind for the lace gown is different than the wedding that I've planned for the halter gown. When I got off from work yesterday I began brainstorming for the lace gown, and things just began to fall into place mentally. Suddenly, everything seemed cohesive. Now I find that I want to go with this alternate wedding!! What to do??
Wedding option #2 requires (among other things) a new location for the ceremony. The lace gown has more of a vintage feel, so the Korean Bell no longer works. Fortunately, the Bell is just up the street from Point Fermin Lighthouse which would be the perfect setting. Both locales are booked through the LA City Dept of Parks and Recreation, so I'm pretty sure I could make the change... But is there time to get the dress fixed? Am I inviting chaos into wedding planning that was moving along uneventfully? It's true that things were moving along ok, but I just "wasn't feeling it", and now I am.... So in theory things will be easier if I make the change.
I was struggling with the invitations, now I have a clear vision. I had my heart set on making keshi pearl jewelry to go with the ivory gown, but when I chose the halter gown, pearl jewelry looked bad. Now that's a possibility again! Many months ago I also liked the idea of walking down the aisle to a piano rag (like Scott Joplin's Maple Leaf Rag from the late 1800's), but when I chose the Bell, that too was out. Now I could do it! Finally, I've been toying with the idea of having a silhouette artist at the reception, but that didn't jive either... and now it does. Can I make all of this work on such short notice??? I don't know! We'll see.
Pardon me while I blather on about this issue for a minute:
I am further disgusted by current events in Uganda... Homosexuality is in the process of being criminalized, and the penalty for taking a same-sex partner is in some instances life imprisonment. How archaic! This would be just another tale of human depravity from another part of the world, except this story has a very sad twist: Backers of this new incredibly small-minded legislation include a contingent of American Evangelical Christians. The legislation is being put forth by a Ugandan national, but he has ties to groups here in the good ol' US of A.
When I hear about stories such as this one, I want to run (not walk!) as far away as possible from the Christian faith. It's one thing to disagree with homosexuality, it's something else entirely to send a loving, committed couple to prison for the rest of their lives because of a narrow interpretion of the Bible. I ask myself, "Who are these Christians? What Bible are they reading? What God do they know?" The god they know is not the god that I remember... And if I'm the one who is misinterpreting the will of God, then we don't need to become reacquainted, thank you very much. They are promoting hate, pure and simple. What happened to the God of love?? And I just love the old Christian standby sentiment of "love the sinner, hate the sin"- what does this expression mean to people? How do they see it playing out? Do they not see a conflict with sending people they supposedly "love" to suffer in prison? And what's supposed to occur there? Are the jailed homosexuals supposed to have an epiphany? Or is this all some scheme to "protect" the children of Uganda? I worry about people who feel they need to "protect" themselves by stripping away the rights of other human beings!
Back to my original post... I'm having my doubts about my wedding planning. The problem is that I have three gowns. Yep, three! and they are all very different. Each gown inspires dreams of a completely unique wedding, one that is not interchangeable with the other two! How could I have let this happen?? Blame ebay.
Once upon a time, I had only one wedding gown. This was way back in 2007, shortly after R proposed. At the time, I was still employed with the county and making good money (sadly, even with the shift differential that I get by working nights and the extra pay that I get by forgoing my benefits, I still make only about 75% of my former pay!). Although it didn't seem like it at the time, I probably could have afforded to buy a new gown. But always budget minded and looking to maximize "return on investment", I decided to get my gown at a charity event. It was the perfect "win-win" scenario- I would get a gently used gown, and Brides Against Breast Cancer would get the profit (gowns are donated to the event, then sold at very reasonable prices).
My mom met me at the event after work one evening. I worked 10 hour shifts in downtown LA at the time, and I remember being very tired but happy to be participating. My main goal for finding a dress was that I didn't want strapless. To me, strapless anything is uncomfortable, and I thought that the strapless "look" was played out. Sure, it can be very elegant and provides a nice backdrop for showcasing jewelry, but YUCK. It just wasn't my style. What I really wanted was something with a deep V-neck and tank style straps (no spaghetti straps- they're almost as bad as strapless!).
Kudos to my mom for finding a beautiful gown for me. While I was in the mass changing area, she came back with it. It was a halter gown (not quite what I wanted, but with a similar look) made of a diamond-white crinkle organza. It has the V-neck that I like, a flattering ruched waist, a sheer overlay on the skirt, a short train.... It's lovely- simple but not plain, modern but not flashy.
Although I loved the first gown, I had a few issues with it. Firstly, there was the fact that it was a tent on me and definitely needed alterations. Secondly, diamond white is a tough color to match! It's not quite ivory, not quite white... It just seemed like it was going to be a major chore to obtain a matching flower girl dress and other accessories. Thirdly, and maybe most significantly, the halter neckline left my back totally exposed, and I felt self-conscious. My back is not pretty! Not at all! Why show it off?
What I really wanted was a lace gown, so I kept scouring ebay, and there it was. A Pronovias Laura.
I say "looked" (past tense) because gown #2 no longer fits me. In fact, gown #1 (the halter style that was a tent) is now perfect, perhaps even slightly snug! This has been the case for a few months, so I basically chose gown #1 by default. I've been planning my wedding around it, but now I'm having second thoughts. I love the gown that's in pieces! If I could put it back together more or less the way it was before, I would wear it. It was great by itself (forget about the whole layering over gown #2 concept). Unfortunately, when I took it apart, I cut into the liner. The only way I'll be able to wear it now is if I have a new liner sewn, and is there really time for that?
More importantly, though, is what I mentioned at the start of this post: each gown has it's own unique style. The wedding I have in mind for the lace gown is different than the wedding that I've planned for the halter gown. When I got off from work yesterday I began brainstorming for the lace gown, and things just began to fall into place mentally. Suddenly, everything seemed cohesive. Now I find that I want to go with this alternate wedding!! What to do??
Wedding option #2 requires (among other things) a new location for the ceremony. The lace gown has more of a vintage feel, so the Korean Bell no longer works. Fortunately, the Bell is just up the street from Point Fermin Lighthouse which would be the perfect setting. Both locales are booked through the LA City Dept of Parks and Recreation, so I'm pretty sure I could make the change... But is there time to get the dress fixed? Am I inviting chaos into wedding planning that was moving along uneventfully? It's true that things were moving along ok, but I just "wasn't feeling it", and now I am.... So in theory things will be easier if I make the change.
I was struggling with the invitations, now I have a clear vision. I had my heart set on making keshi pearl jewelry to go with the ivory gown, but when I chose the halter gown, pearl jewelry looked bad. Now that's a possibility again! Many months ago I also liked the idea of walking down the aisle to a piano rag (like Scott Joplin's Maple Leaf Rag from the late 1800's), but when I chose the Bell, that too was out. Now I could do it! Finally, I've been toying with the idea of having a silhouette artist at the reception, but that didn't jive either... and now it does. Can I make all of this work on such short notice??? I don't know! We'll see.
Monday, January 4, 2010
In 2010 I Resolve To...
...Do more, Dream Less! It's all well and fine to make big plans (like taking flying lessons), it's something else altogther to actually do the thing you've been dreaming about! I'm proud of myself in this new year because I've done a few things already. The first thing: on New Year's Day I joined the Cabrillo Beach Polar Bears for their annual "First Swim". Every year I hear about Polar Bear clubs around the country and the crazy people who take a dip on New Year's, and it has always caught my attention. This year, on the day before New Year's, R directed me to a Daily Breeze article about the event. The next morning, after the Rose Parade (Go Tillman! Go KP!), he started watching the 3rd annual "Winter Classic" hockey game (a regular season hockey game played outdoors on a Major League Baseball field converted just for the occasion). There was no way he was going anywhere, but I really wanted to be a Polar Bear, if only for the day. I did my research-- the event started at 11:30 am. So I started to collect my things- swimsuit, towel- hopped in the shower (yes, I needed to shower before taking a swim in the ocean- call it a girl thing!), did a quick mapquest review of how to get there, and was out of the house by 11:20 am. It is always a bit of a bummer taking on adventures alone, but I was extremely glad I went. When I got to Cabrillo Beach, I just followed the throngs of people, found myself a spot on the sand, waited until it was time, reluctantly pulled off my workout pants and t-shirt, and made my way into the water... In a two-piece bathing suit, I might add! Despite my body anxieties of late! Bravo to me. Yes, it was cold! I went out quite a ways, dove under a few waves, got good and soaked, then made my way back in, resisted the tableful of cupcakes, claimed my certificate, and headed home. I hope to make it an annual tradition and perhaps even join the club for other events.
Now, as for this flying thing... When I saw my Uncle Steve on Christmas night, he suggested I follow in his footsteps by taking ground school at Long Beach City College. He took it a few years ago. The entire thing was a 5 unit class-- very do-able! I left Christmas festivities pretty excited at the possiblilty, but from what I can tell the course is no longer offered. I'll have to do some further research.
Other things I'd like to "DO" rather than just think about in this new year: Firstly, it would be nice to do some kind of volunteer work. I often think about seeking out and participating in meaningful communtiy service, but it's so easy to put off! I can come up with a mllion-and-one excuses, such as, "I'm too busy with wedding planning", "It wouldn't be fair to Robert- we don't get enough time together as it is"or "I don't know what kind of activity would suit me"... Excuses, excuses! Regarding that last excuse-- there are so many activities that would be a good match! An obvious choice would be Habitat for Humanity, but they are all over the place geographically, and I want to stay as close to home as possible. I think some type of literacy project would be the most meaningful, but that's a scary one to think about undertaking-- it requires a level of committment that may be unrealistic. I don't want to set myself up to fail, afterall! We have a very nice nearly brand new animal shelter in San Pedro- that might be a good one. It wouldn't be too depressing either- the shelter has a 'no kill' policy in effect. San Pedro is a very diverse, very old community with a lot of well-established community organizations (Like the Elk's club) so I'm sure I could easily find an activity that would be a good fit. Maybe I'll spend some time on Volunteer Match to get a better sense of what's out there. I won't beat myself up if I don't get to it right away, though. Wedding stuff is a priority right now. Fortunately, it will be over and done with in a few months. Thank goodness! I'm ready to focus on other things.
Now, as for this flying thing... When I saw my Uncle Steve on Christmas night, he suggested I follow in his footsteps by taking ground school at Long Beach City College. He took it a few years ago. The entire thing was a 5 unit class-- very do-able! I left Christmas festivities pretty excited at the possiblilty, but from what I can tell the course is no longer offered. I'll have to do some further research.
Other things I'd like to "DO" rather than just think about in this new year: Firstly, it would be nice to do some kind of volunteer work. I often think about seeking out and participating in meaningful communtiy service, but it's so easy to put off! I can come up with a mllion-and-one excuses, such as, "I'm too busy with wedding planning", "It wouldn't be fair to Robert- we don't get enough time together as it is"or "I don't know what kind of activity would suit me"... Excuses, excuses! Regarding that last excuse-- there are so many activities that would be a good match! An obvious choice would be Habitat for Humanity, but they are all over the place geographically, and I want to stay as close to home as possible. I think some type of literacy project would be the most meaningful, but that's a scary one to think about undertaking-- it requires a level of committment that may be unrealistic. I don't want to set myself up to fail, afterall! We have a very nice nearly brand new animal shelter in San Pedro- that might be a good one. It wouldn't be too depressing either- the shelter has a 'no kill' policy in effect. San Pedro is a very diverse, very old community with a lot of well-established community organizations (Like the Elk's club) so I'm sure I could easily find an activity that would be a good fit. Maybe I'll spend some time on Volunteer Match to get a better sense of what's out there. I won't beat myself up if I don't get to it right away, though. Wedding stuff is a priority right now. Fortunately, it will be over and done with in a few months. Thank goodness! I'm ready to focus on other things.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Welcome, 2010!
Twenty-ten is here. So far, it's a pretty good year. R and I have been taking long walks down Anchovy Avenue to Paseo del Mar and over to White Point, where we "ooh" and "ahh"at the crystal-clear view of Catalina Island, then head back up the hill... I alternately beg him to carry me, pull me up the hill, or go get the car, but he refuses every time! Somehow I survive. He tells me, "One of these days this will be an easy walk for you!"-- Well, I'm still waiting for that to happen. One of my co-workers is impressed that I do the stairs at work-- 5 flights with 25 steps each, up and down, ten times= 2,500 steps in twenty five minutes... I guess it's nothing to sneeze at. If I complain about the shape that I'm in, he tells me, "You're fit!", and I respond, "I suppose I'm fit-fat!" In the whole scheme of things, "fit-fat" isn't such a bad thing to be.
My stint counting calories was short-lived. I can't do it in good conscience. I think it's human nature to want to obsess about things (or at least it's in my flawed nature to obsess), and and my weight is the last thing that I want to obsess about. I say, to hell with it! I need to model healthy behavior for my step-daughter-to-be.
Speaking of Emily, we got the call this evening that she may be checking out of treatment tomorrow. We are both extremely disappointed. I guess we thought that things would be different this time around. Her rationale for leaving is that she has edema (swelling), and doesn't feel that she is receiving proper medical attention. When a severe anorexic begins eating again, the body experiences tremendous stress. The anorexic body has adapted itself to starvation, so reintroducing food can cause extremely dangerous shifts in fluid and electrolyte levels (a phenomenon known as Refeeding Syndrome). As one might imagine, this can be deadly. Acute heart failure is a possible side effect (Read more about this here). Apparently E is fearful that the edema she is experiencing might indicate that her kidneys aren't working properly. She is fearful of renal failure. I don't have the medical knowledge to be able to speak to her concerns... I think edema is in fact a normal part of the process and resolves itself over time, but I really don't know. I did research the last time she was in treatment and experiencing these symptoms, but that was a few years ago. I could easily spend hours on the computer researching again, but that wouldn't be healthy for me. Eating disorders have an amazing destructive power that extends far beyond the body, mind, and spirit of the sufferer. I've allowed her disorder to put me into a tailspin before but I think it's best that I maintain some distance this time around... Call it an emotional quarantine.
Once again I wonder if I'm cut out for parenting. Even when it's good, it's very intense. Call me selfish, but I like the idea of focusing my attention on myself and R. There is a lot that I haven't done in my life. Sometimes I think I'd like to be a parent simply because I don't want to be alone when I'm old... How ridiculous! Not a good reason to have kids!
On Christmas day I saw my uncle Steve, and he asked me if I ever see planes flying over the ocean near where I live. As it turns out, he has some friends who fly over there, and who do aerobatics in their planes. One of the friends flies a Sonex like Steve... and this has prompted my crazy uncle to begin doing spins in his plane! Awesome! Someday, I have got to learn to fly. Back in 1998 or 1999 I was actually planning to take lessons... It was when I was applying to transfer to the UC schools, and I thoroughly expected to end up at UC Santa Barbara (I didn't anticipate getting accepted by Cal!) and I had it all planned out. There's a baby-sized airport by the university, and even an all-female flight school... How cool that would have been! My plan for UCSB was to study Biopsychology... That would have been interesting! Oh well, no regrets! For all I know, I would have arrived at UCSB, joined a Sorority (yeah right, now I'm laughing out loud!) become a hardcore party girl, and dropped out of school. Ha ha! Best not to play the "what-if" game, but if you must, remember to include the negative scenarios, too!
My stint counting calories was short-lived. I can't do it in good conscience. I think it's human nature to want to obsess about things (or at least it's in my flawed nature to obsess), and and my weight is the last thing that I want to obsess about. I say, to hell with it! I need to model healthy behavior for my step-daughter-to-be.
Speaking of Emily, we got the call this evening that she may be checking out of treatment tomorrow. We are both extremely disappointed. I guess we thought that things would be different this time around. Her rationale for leaving is that she has edema (swelling), and doesn't feel that she is receiving proper medical attention. When a severe anorexic begins eating again, the body experiences tremendous stress. The anorexic body has adapted itself to starvation, so reintroducing food can cause extremely dangerous shifts in fluid and electrolyte levels (a phenomenon known as Refeeding Syndrome). As one might imagine, this can be deadly. Acute heart failure is a possible side effect (Read more about this here). Apparently E is fearful that the edema she is experiencing might indicate that her kidneys aren't working properly. She is fearful of renal failure. I don't have the medical knowledge to be able to speak to her concerns... I think edema is in fact a normal part of the process and resolves itself over time, but I really don't know. I did research the last time she was in treatment and experiencing these symptoms, but that was a few years ago. I could easily spend hours on the computer researching again, but that wouldn't be healthy for me. Eating disorders have an amazing destructive power that extends far beyond the body, mind, and spirit of the sufferer. I've allowed her disorder to put me into a tailspin before but I think it's best that I maintain some distance this time around... Call it an emotional quarantine.
Once again I wonder if I'm cut out for parenting. Even when it's good, it's very intense. Call me selfish, but I like the idea of focusing my attention on myself and R. There is a lot that I haven't done in my life. Sometimes I think I'd like to be a parent simply because I don't want to be alone when I'm old... How ridiculous! Not a good reason to have kids!
On Christmas day I saw my uncle Steve, and he asked me if I ever see planes flying over the ocean near where I live. As it turns out, he has some friends who fly over there, and who do aerobatics in their planes. One of the friends flies a Sonex like Steve... and this has prompted my crazy uncle to begin doing spins in his plane! Awesome! Someday, I have got to learn to fly. Back in 1998 or 1999 I was actually planning to take lessons... It was when I was applying to transfer to the UC schools, and I thoroughly expected to end up at UC Santa Barbara (I didn't anticipate getting accepted by Cal!) and I had it all planned out. There's a baby-sized airport by the university, and even an all-female flight school... How cool that would have been! My plan for UCSB was to study Biopsychology... That would have been interesting! Oh well, no regrets! For all I know, I would have arrived at UCSB, joined a Sorority (yeah right, now I'm laughing out loud!) become a hardcore party girl, and dropped out of school. Ha ha! Best not to play the "what-if" game, but if you must, remember to include the negative scenarios, too!
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