Because of everything else going on in my life, I'm probably taking this a bit more seriously than I need to, and I'm aware I'm taking things to heart that I shouldn't be.
However...
I am completely fucking over the Twitter thing. If you want me to know what's going on in your life, I hope you blog about it (or, you know, text me, call me, email me, write me a good old-fashioned letter). Because as of about five minutes ago, I've deleted all Twitter feeds from my Google Reader.
I find it annoying to read more replies than things of actual content that make sense to me without having to click through and reverse engineer a thread. I find it annoying to have to click through to read the end of the long twitter post. I find it annoying to have to click through to see a pic that someone has posted. It's all too fucking annoying and I'm over it.
ETA: Another example that pisses me off. Recently, a friend apparently Twittered about something. Since the Twitter feed doesn't happen in real time on Google Reader, I read all of the replies to the event before I read about the actual event from the person. Now, in this case, it didn't much matter. But if it was about an important event, I'd want to hear about it from the original source first.
Also, I just realised that I'm going to have to add back Mikey's Twitter feed or my mom will kill me.
28 June 2009
Draw a Giraffe!
In non-MJ news, one guy bet that he could collect one million handdrawn giraffes by 2011.
Read about it here and go contribute.
Oh, and spread the word.
Read about it here and go contribute.
Oh, and spread the word.
26 June 2009
Still doin' the D
The five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.
Well, I'm still on the first "D." I keep waiting for the shows to explain that they've got it wrong. I keep waiting for the family to say "hey, guess what!" Last night, I asked someone, "Why do they keep saying he's dead??? Why would they do that???? Why would they report false news????"
This morning, I took a box of Dunkin Donuts Munchkins to the office. I explained to the group that it was a bribe. They got Munchkins in exchange for not talking about Michael. Because I just couldn't bear it anymore. After crying off and on all evening yesterday, crying myself to sleep, and waking up crying... I needed a break.
In the meantime, my minions were fast at work. I'd made a bunch of phone calls and email pleas last night to secure newspapers from across the country. I believe that I have papers from Southern California, Denver, Kansas City, Atlanta, North Carolina, New Jersey, and New York headed my way. For my part, I got a copy of all three Philadelphia papers.
When I got home, I turned on the coverage again. The tears came flowed fast and furiously this time. But mostly in anger. The man has been dead for barely a day. And it took less than that for the media to start hurling around "child molestation," "financial trouble," and "possible drug abuse." How dare they. HOW DARE THEY????
Don't get me wrong. I don't expect the shows to act as if the sun shone out of his ass. But can we let the family and the fans grieve? Can we focus on celebrating his life before we focus on the negativity? ALL of us - every. single. person. has made mistakes in our lives, have been misunderstood, and have regretted actions and or decisions. But I fervently hope that when we pass, our survivors will focus on the triumphs and the successes. And why is Michael deserving of anything less? (To that end: To Brian Oxman - FUCK YOU.)
Earlier this evening, I was thisclose to going to New York and joining the crowd at the Apollo Theater. But I feared that if I went, I'd never come home. I'd be with people who got it. People who understood my grief and sorrow. And who doesn't want to leave that comforting feeling of being understood and accepted? I also felt like trying to leave there would be much like holding the hand of a person who dies... and not wanting to let go. Because when you let go, that's the end. It's Over. And it's Real.
So I stayed home. I watched coverage all evening. At one point, I tried to get away from it by watching something I had TiVoed. I started it up, and it ended up that what I THOUGHT I had TiVoed was pre-empted last night for a show about MJ and Farrah Fawcett. So I've been crying for most of the evening. My eyes are puffy and my vision is blurred. I forgot to eat.
I think it's interesting that I posted the lyrics to "Childhood" last night and called it his "most emotionally honest and autobiographical" work, because one of the interviews that I watched today was MJ telling people who have doubts about him to listen to that song because it was "the most honest song [I] have written, and it's the most autobiographical song [I] have written."
When I was a kid, I wore a single glove for awhile. Of course, I didn't have the proper type of glove. So I was the goober who went around wearing one winter glove. In the summer of Missouri. I practiced hours so I could moonwalk. I could do the move where he danced and then jumped onto his toes. I had his videos memorised.
I bought every album he put out. Okay - that's not true. I have every album. But some of the singles and remixes were gifts. I was regularly given gifts of the MJ ilk, and as a result I have most of his older stuff on vinyl. "Thriller" was my first LP and "We Are the World" was my first vinyl single (at least that wasn't a children's read-a-long book accompaniment).
I hope he knows that I always believed in him. I never believed any of the rumors or allegations. I don't know if he bleached his skin, and I could never find it in me to give a rat's ass, other than to worry that he might have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. And, as I've said time and time again, and as I will continue to say - I will never believe anyone on this Earth who tells me that he molested anyone. Ever.
But my greatest hope now is that he has peace. That he is happy. And that he knows he was loved.
I will leave you with Seth Green's quote: There are two kinds of people in the world - Michael Jackson fans and losers.
Well, I'm still on the first "D." I keep waiting for the shows to explain that they've got it wrong. I keep waiting for the family to say "hey, guess what!" Last night, I asked someone, "Why do they keep saying he's dead??? Why would they do that???? Why would they report false news????"
This morning, I took a box of Dunkin Donuts Munchkins to the office. I explained to the group that it was a bribe. They got Munchkins in exchange for not talking about Michael. Because I just couldn't bear it anymore. After crying off and on all evening yesterday, crying myself to sleep, and waking up crying... I needed a break.
In the meantime, my minions were fast at work. I'd made a bunch of phone calls and email pleas last night to secure newspapers from across the country. I believe that I have papers from Southern California, Denver, Kansas City, Atlanta, North Carolina, New Jersey, and New York headed my way. For my part, I got a copy of all three Philadelphia papers.
When I got home, I turned on the coverage again. The tears came flowed fast and furiously this time. But mostly in anger. The man has been dead for barely a day. And it took less than that for the media to start hurling around "child molestation," "financial trouble," and "possible drug abuse." How dare they. HOW DARE THEY????
Don't get me wrong. I don't expect the shows to act as if the sun shone out of his ass. But can we let the family and the fans grieve? Can we focus on celebrating his life before we focus on the negativity? ALL of us - every. single. person. has made mistakes in our lives, have been misunderstood, and have regretted actions and or decisions. But I fervently hope that when we pass, our survivors will focus on the triumphs and the successes. And why is Michael deserving of anything less? (To that end: To Brian Oxman - FUCK YOU.)
Earlier this evening, I was thisclose to going to New York and joining the crowd at the Apollo Theater. But I feared that if I went, I'd never come home. I'd be with people who got it. People who understood my grief and sorrow. And who doesn't want to leave that comforting feeling of being understood and accepted? I also felt like trying to leave there would be much like holding the hand of a person who dies... and not wanting to let go. Because when you let go, that's the end. It's Over. And it's Real.
So I stayed home. I watched coverage all evening. At one point, I tried to get away from it by watching something I had TiVoed. I started it up, and it ended up that what I THOUGHT I had TiVoed was pre-empted last night for a show about MJ and Farrah Fawcett. So I've been crying for most of the evening. My eyes are puffy and my vision is blurred. I forgot to eat.
I think it's interesting that I posted the lyrics to "Childhood" last night and called it his "most emotionally honest and autobiographical" work, because one of the interviews that I watched today was MJ telling people who have doubts about him to listen to that song because it was "the most honest song [I] have written, and it's the most autobiographical song [I] have written."
When I was a kid, I wore a single glove for awhile. Of course, I didn't have the proper type of glove. So I was the goober who went around wearing one winter glove. In the summer of Missouri. I practiced hours so I could moonwalk. I could do the move where he danced and then jumped onto his toes. I had his videos memorised.
I bought every album he put out. Okay - that's not true. I have every album. But some of the singles and remixes were gifts. I was regularly given gifts of the MJ ilk, and as a result I have most of his older stuff on vinyl. "Thriller" was my first LP and "We Are the World" was my first vinyl single (at least that wasn't a children's read-a-long book accompaniment).
I hope he knows that I always believed in him. I never believed any of the rumors or allegations. I don't know if he bleached his skin, and I could never find it in me to give a rat's ass, other than to worry that he might have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. And, as I've said time and time again, and as I will continue to say - I will never believe anyone on this Earth who tells me that he molested anyone. Ever.
But my greatest hope now is that he has peace. That he is happy. And that he knows he was loved.
I will leave you with Seth Green's quote: There are two kinds of people in the world - Michael Jackson fans and losers.
"Gone Too Soon"
Written by Larry Grossman
"Gone Too Soon"
Like A Comet
Blazing 'Cross The Evening Sky
Gone Too Soon
Like A Rainbow
Fading In The Twinkling Of An Eye
Gone Too Soon
Shiny And Sparkly
And Splendidly Bright
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like The Loss Of Sunlight
On A Cloudy Afternoon
Gone Too Soon
Like A Castle
Built Upon A Sandy Beach
Gone Too Soon
Like A Perfect Flower
That Is Just Beyond Your Reach
Gone Too Soon
Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like A Sunset
Dying With The Rising Of The Moon
Gone Too Soon
Gone Too Soon
Composed by Buz Kohan
Performed by Michael Jackson
"Gone Too Soon"
Like A Comet
Blazing 'Cross The Evening Sky
Gone Too Soon
Like A Rainbow
Fading In The Twinkling Of An Eye
Gone Too Soon
Shiny And Sparkly
And Splendidly Bright
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like The Loss Of Sunlight
On A Cloudy Afternoon
Gone Too Soon
Like A Castle
Built Upon A Sandy Beach
Gone Too Soon
Like A Perfect Flower
That Is Just Beyond Your Reach
Gone Too Soon
Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like A Sunset
Dying With The Rising Of The Moon
Gone Too Soon
Gone Too Soon
25 June 2009
Inconsolable
I got home around 5:00 p.m. Mish told me that Michael Jackson had a heart attack. I started Googling. When I got internet confirmation that MJ experienced cardiac arrest (which is more serious than a heart attack), I immediately started crying.
I called Mom. She is one of few people who knows how much MJ means to me. We have a family rule - if you don't want a knock-down, drag-out fight, you don't say anything even approaching negative about MJ. The last fist fight I was in was about MJ. Someone said something about him being a child molester. I took a swing, then another, until my at-the-time boyfriend restrained me. NO ONE on this Earth will ever be able to convince me that he ever molested those kids. Don't even try. Seriously; don't.
Mom reminded me that all I could do was pray. So I did. A lot. Hard. Then Mish told me that TMZ was reporting his death. I refreshed the Google News page so much it accused me of being a bot and I had to verify my human-ness.
I am alternating between complete denial (I just told Kate that I'm waiting for the story that it's all a mistake) and sobbing hysterically.
I just posted the lyrics to one of my favourite songs of his, "Childhood." I believe this to be his more emotionally honest, autobiographical songs. When people try to tell me how "weird" he is, I point them to that song.
Kate just asked me what about him made him so important to me. I think it's a few things. The most simplistic is that he was my first vinyl. "Thriller," if you must know. Even at a young age, I recognised genius - musical, lyrical, dancing genius. Pure, unadulterated genius.
But part of me also "got" him - at least inasmuch as one can get a person who one has never met. He had a fucked up childhood; so did I. He was robbed of his childhood; so was I. But he capitalised on his talent, and he went on to become succesful despite all of that. So, to a child who grew up with alcoholics, abusive parents, and bad role models all around - that was inspiring.
Some of his songs touched my soul. Some of his music lifted my spirits no matter my mood. Some of his lyrics made me cry.
I've said before that I tend to collect the homeless puppies. Even though he was much beloved by millions of people, I think he was my first homeless puppy.
The world has suffered an enormous loss.
I hope that he is at peace, something he rarely got in his life. I hope that he may rest now, with the serenity and dignity that is due him.
I called Mom. She is one of few people who knows how much MJ means to me. We have a family rule - if you don't want a knock-down, drag-out fight, you don't say anything even approaching negative about MJ. The last fist fight I was in was about MJ. Someone said something about him being a child molester. I took a swing, then another, until my at-the-time boyfriend restrained me. NO ONE on this Earth will ever be able to convince me that he ever molested those kids. Don't even try. Seriously; don't.
Mom reminded me that all I could do was pray. So I did. A lot. Hard. Then Mish told me that TMZ was reporting his death. I refreshed the Google News page so much it accused me of being a bot and I had to verify my human-ness.
I am alternating between complete denial (I just told Kate that I'm waiting for the story that it's all a mistake) and sobbing hysterically.
I just posted the lyrics to one of my favourite songs of his, "Childhood." I believe this to be his more emotionally honest, autobiographical songs. When people try to tell me how "weird" he is, I point them to that song.
Kate just asked me what about him made him so important to me. I think it's a few things. The most simplistic is that he was my first vinyl. "Thriller," if you must know. Even at a young age, I recognised genius - musical, lyrical, dancing genius. Pure, unadulterated genius.
But part of me also "got" him - at least inasmuch as one can get a person who one has never met. He had a fucked up childhood; so did I. He was robbed of his childhood; so was I. But he capitalised on his talent, and he went on to become succesful despite all of that. So, to a child who grew up with alcoholics, abusive parents, and bad role models all around - that was inspiring.
Some of his songs touched my soul. Some of his music lifted my spirits no matter my mood. Some of his lyrics made me cry.
I've said before that I tend to collect the homeless puppies. Even though he was much beloved by millions of people, I think he was my first homeless puppy.
The world has suffered an enormous loss.
I hope that he is at peace, something he rarely got in his life. I hope that he may rest now, with the serenity and dignity that is due him.
Childhood
Written and composed by Michael Joseph Jackson
"Childhood"
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for the world that I come from
'Cause I've been looking around
In the lost and found of my heart...
No one understands me
They view it as such strange eccentricities...
'Cause I keep kidding around
Like a child, but pardon me...
People say I'm not okay
'Cause I love such elementary things...
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood
I've never known...
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like pirates in adventurous dreams,
Of conquest and kings on the throne...
Before you judge me, try hard to love me,
Look within your heart then ask,
Have you seen my Childhood?
People say I'm strange that way
'Cause I love such elementary things,
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood I've never known...
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like fantastical stories to share
The dreams I would dare, watch me fly...
Before you judge me, try hard to love me.
The painful youth I've had
Have you seen my Childhood...
"Childhood"
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for the world that I come from
'Cause I've been looking around
In the lost and found of my heart...
No one understands me
They view it as such strange eccentricities...
'Cause I keep kidding around
Like a child, but pardon me...
People say I'm not okay
'Cause I love such elementary things...
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood
I've never known...
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like pirates in adventurous dreams,
Of conquest and kings on the throne...
Before you judge me, try hard to love me,
Look within your heart then ask,
Have you seen my Childhood?
People say I'm strange that way
'Cause I love such elementary things,
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood I've never known...
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like fantastical stories to share
The dreams I would dare, watch me fly...
Before you judge me, try hard to love me.
The painful youth I've had
Have you seen my Childhood...
19 June 2009
Hashimoto's
The first thing I did when I went to work today was to see if my lab results were back yet. They were, and it was a good news/bad news situation. The bad news is that my thyroid is, indeed, acting up. The good news is that I don't have a NEW health issue to worry about.
I'm very frustrated that since joining Weight Watchers, I'd lost a little over ten pounds. And in just over two weeks, I've gained almost all of it back. Weight gain is a pretty typical symptom, as are the other symptoms I've been experiencing: raspy voice, constant fatigue, feeling cold, depression, and inability to concentrate.
I called my endocrinologist and was told that her next available appointment was 02 October. I made the appointment, but decided to explore other options. I'll skip the details, but I was able to work out something with my endo. I faxed her my lab results, and she ordered my chart from the archives (I haven't seen her in 26 months). She'll decide if she feels comfortable just calling in a prescription for me or if she'll try to squeeze me in.
I hadn't seen her for so long because I've been euthyroid for awhile - meaning that although my antibodies were elevated, my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) levels were normal. This is a somewhat normal pattern for Hashimoto's patients - having an underactive thyroid, then the thyroid decides to do its job... hell, sometimes it even becomes *too* active. In fact, that's what happened to me. I eventually became hyperthyroid (rather than hypothyroid, which is how I usually present) before my thyroid decided to settle down and act right.
All of this makes me VERY happy that I decided to drop my calculus course a couple of weeks ago. Depending on how long it takes me to get in to see Dr. El-Hajj (and I LOVE her - she writes down all of her instructions and explanations; the patient goes home with the original and a carbon copy goes in the chart), this could get slightly worse before it gets better.
The doctor who wrote the order for the blood test told me today that he was impressed I was so tuned in to my body and was able to pinpoint the culprit. That was kind of nice to hear.
In the meantime, one of the things that typically plagues affects my interactions/relationships the most when I'm symptomatic is difficulty with memory. So please be patient with me as I try to remember to revert to some of my coping mechanisms - carrying my book with me at all times, writing copious notes/to-do lists, etc. If I forgot something, it's not personal; I promise.
And thanks for all of the support. I wouldn't know what to do without you!
I'm very frustrated that since joining Weight Watchers, I'd lost a little over ten pounds. And in just over two weeks, I've gained almost all of it back. Weight gain is a pretty typical symptom, as are the other symptoms I've been experiencing: raspy voice, constant fatigue, feeling cold, depression, and inability to concentrate.
I called my endocrinologist and was told that her next available appointment was 02 October. I made the appointment, but decided to explore other options. I'll skip the details, but I was able to work out something with my endo. I faxed her my lab results, and she ordered my chart from the archives (I haven't seen her in 26 months). She'll decide if she feels comfortable just calling in a prescription for me or if she'll try to squeeze me in.
I hadn't seen her for so long because I've been euthyroid for awhile - meaning that although my antibodies were elevated, my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) levels were normal. This is a somewhat normal pattern for Hashimoto's patients - having an underactive thyroid, then the thyroid decides to do its job... hell, sometimes it even becomes *too* active. In fact, that's what happened to me. I eventually became hyperthyroid (rather than hypothyroid, which is how I usually present) before my thyroid decided to settle down and act right.
All of this makes me VERY happy that I decided to drop my calculus course a couple of weeks ago. Depending on how long it takes me to get in to see Dr. El-Hajj (and I LOVE her - she writes down all of her instructions and explanations; the patient goes home with the original and a carbon copy goes in the chart), this could get slightly worse before it gets better.
The doctor who wrote the order for the blood test told me today that he was impressed I was so tuned in to my body and was able to pinpoint the culprit. That was kind of nice to hear.
In the meantime, one of the things that typically plagues affects my interactions/relationships the most when I'm symptomatic is difficulty with memory. So please be patient with me as I try to remember to revert to some of my coping mechanisms - carrying my book with me at all times, writing copious notes/to-do lists, etc. If I forgot something, it's not personal; I promise.
And thanks for all of the support. I wouldn't know what to do without you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)