If I was a Man

Aside from my brother constantly telling me I’m half man, that I really do feel like I had a male twin that died in utero and therefore I absorbed some of his testosterone, that I’m really not particularly feminine in many ways, I really am female. I don’t know if it’s just the way my brain operates where I feel like everything is so amazingly interesting when others don’t want to think a certain way or feel like those certain types of thoughts are “weird” or “strange” or “why-do-you-think-like-that,” but I think about stuff like, would it be like if I were male instead of female? Not in the sense that I wish I was or not, just a what-if. Similarly my brain will think of things like, of all the people and life forms that exist on this planet, I am me. Why? I could have been a bee, or my neighbor, or that idiot I just honked at, but I’m me! That’s just cool! Or, what’s the point of life? Why do we run this rat race? What’s it all for? What does it matter if I have a lot of money or become rich and famous, or even if I decide I want to be a druggie? Why do we even exist? Or about paranormal phenomena, or about how the body works, etc. Just, purely for understanding’s sake.

Others find it all too deep, too thinky, too…strange. Bothersome. I haven’t found a single person with whom I can talk about things like this to and have them one, not run away screaming, two, actually listen to me without zoning out, and three (the most important) actually understand what I’m saying and think one the same plane. My mom is probably the closest, but she doesn’t think on the level I do. It’s something I’ve come to accept: that I don’t think like others do or vice versa. Nothing that I look down on people or in any direction at all, just that’s how it is.

Haha…honestly it’s all rather cumbersome, this style of thought. It drives more people away than to me. Too many times have others been offended by what I say even though I don’t mean anything judgmental. I like to think that my thoughts are realistic. Then again…words don’t mean the same thing to me as other people either. Take the word “realistic” for example: what does that mean to you? What does the word “real” mean? Typically, my understanding of a word — or my thinking, really — is what I describe as round. Not linear, round. Encompassing. Whole. A globe. My thought process is indeed, round, if you were to give it a shape. Realistic can mean, pragmatic, down to earth, right? But it also means true. In my sense, I feel that my thoughts are realistic because they are true, they are exactly what I feel.

When I was in college, I had a friend who was struggling in a class. I asked her if she needed help, because I could help her. She was offended because for some reason she didn’t want MY help, seeing as maybe her intelligence should be equal to or greater than my own? I may not have gotten the chance to go to schools on par with my true academic abilities, and I may not flaunt it either, but I am a good student. I’ve always been a good student. That’s why I have always been at the very top of my classes. LET ME HELP YOU. If anyone tells you that, your first reaction is what? To be offended. Why are you boasting and rubbing that in my face, do you think I’m dumb or not smart?  I have never understood that mindset. If I don’t know something, I have ZERO issues admitting that I don’t know, because, well, I don’t know! Teach me! Why must people pretend to know things they don’t? Pride? To what end? And similarly, if I know something, then I know it. I’m NOT BOASTING. I’m merely telling you a truth. I know my strengths. I know my weaknesses. Let me help! Needless to say, she didn’t let me help. Oh well. I tried.

It’s interesting whenever I admit my academic achievements. Not to anyone either, just to myself. It’s always been something I keep within me because I know how it makes others feel. I’m no genius. I had a personal encounter with a genius and there are EXTREMELY intelligent people out there. I consider myself above average intelligence, with a unique brain. Really and truly, if I were to pat myself on the back, I really have always been top of my class. I kept all of my report cards. In my senior year in HS, when I found out that I was tippity top percentage of my class (my orchestra 1st period teacher was super proud, my friend was mad jealous, and I was very embarrassed) I purposefully slacked off so that I wouldn’t be either valedictorian or salutatorian. It worked. They asked me repeatedly in middle school to attend governor’s school for the gifted mind. I repeatedly declined, much the fury of my father. I was one of 2 students in college that made it as a junior into Phi Beta Kappa. Never graduated from there. I never had a choice as to what college to go to, so I don’t and won’t ever know the full extent of my abilities. Same in my career. Life hurdles made it impossible to realize my full potential. BUT HERE’S THE THING: it goes back to when I said towards the beginning that my mind likes to think about deep questions: what’s the point? Whether I land a successful, high end, high paying, high tier, high respect job, what’s the trade off? I’ve had barriers to my potential my whole life. Like I was never destined for it. Now that those shackles are gone and I’m in an extremely favorable place and position to achieve any dreams like that I desire, I find that I…don’t really care to. Why? Why should I?

I wonder, sometimes, what it would have been like to have made that decision to go to governor’s school. To choose the best college. To shoot and aim high, to hit my target. Those people have lives, responsibilities, bills, woes, happiness, just like anyone else. And they’ll die just like everyone else too. The same percentage and capacity of debt, just in a different life tier. More cushy, a loftier view. Farther to fall. More blindness. And much more effort to keep your balance the higher you go. Mortality remains the same.

Wow. I am super duper sleepy.

Heh. Will I ever find someone who can think the round way I do? I can’t even describe that roundness properly. Eh, that doesn’t matter either, does it? Nothing does. I’m just too weird, too cuckoo anyways. Does any of this post even make sense of follow a logical path? Beh.

Oh, and as Valentine’s Day approaches this single lady, the answer to my question a few years ago: my significant other can NOT be a non-thinker. I need someone with a decent head between their shoulders. Basically, it’ll be impossible to find anyone who can tolerate this insanity I call my mind. What a joke it all is.

Good night.

OH yeah. The whole reason I wanted to write a post was to show this image: I found a quiz online that would take pictures of you and show you what you’d look like as the opposite sex. It was pretty neato and fun. Even if some of them didn’t even change the original picture for the result. Sometimes I make a nice looking guy, lol. Also, I was trying to figure out how it worked. Either they just pull from a big library of pictures and meld them together, or they just masculinize it by thickening and straightening eyebrows, pull down and square the jaw, make the nose bigger, add a little facial hair, bigger forehead. They look all so different though, that’s why I thought they just pulled on a library of male faces.

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Tree gone

And I missed it. My mom took pictures, though, which helped. She said it was really quite awesome how they did it. Still wish I’d been able to see it. The dogs apparently had no clue what was going on and finally when Liana figured it out, she was standing at the door alert, muscles contracted and wanted to bark. Haha. She’s so cute. The stumps are still there and we haven’t paid them yet (I went out and counted: 12 rings) so it’s not over yet. I am sad at my view and lack of shade now, though I’m glad given the threat of it falling onto the neighbor’s and our house, plus the damage the squirrels have caused using it as a highway to the roofs. How am I supposed to feed the birdies now? I guess I can be like a few houses down and do the ones that connect to the deck, even if we’re technically not supposed to according to the HOA.

Sigh.

My mom had to go to the NIH last week because her eyes are so bad and untreatable with conventional treatments. Heredity is the reason for it, and so they’ll do experimental genome therapy. Better than nothing. Apparently the doctor said that if her other eye starts doing the same thing, he’ll take away her driving privileges. It’s that bad. She said she plans on not driving anymore after so many years and I’m like, what??? I mean, I understand the medical concerns, but then what? Who’s going to drive her around? Every time I say I’m going to buy a house a move out into it, she gets upset and says things like, you can’t leave with Gable still alive. She gets like that every time I say I’m going to stop living with her. What do you want me to do, mom? Be your caretaker forever? If you want me to start a family or do anything normal, I have to leave. I WANT to leave. This is exactly why I kept telling her to find someone. Someone who can love and take care of her. At this rate, how can she take care of my grandparents? I toyed with the idea of just using the money from selling my house to just pool into a larger home, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to be held down forever. I WANT to be able to live on my own and not be accountable to anything. Why is it that I have been unable to procure my own freedom my entire 3 decades on this earth? In the USA?

I keep blaming my housing situation as part of the reason my relationship failed even though I know that really it just wouldn’t ever work out, because I do believe it’s true. I’ve refused to even entertain the thought of looking again until I next year when I’m supposed to be selling my house because I need my own place to do that. I’m still keeping up with real estate in the hopes something affordable will come by. They do. I’m just not free to make that move. It’s part selfish, but how can you hold me to this? I care tremendously for my mom, of course, but when am I supposed to be able to live life as I want it? To have my house as I want it set up. Not with my mom, not with my brother tagging along, not all set up so that my sister can benefit from it. What is my destiny? To be a crutch for everyone?

Rant rant rant.

Pimple Week

Guh. It’s that time again when the tiniest bit of nothingness will give me a pimple. Painful, big and red. Admittedly I don’t take care of my face like I should, but during this part of the month, I do. The last few cycles have given me some crazy ones, though. I guess I can thank my ex for that. Figures.

I’m fat again, but given my diet the last few weeks…I’m not surprised in the least. Also, I have not been exercising. Like at all. Because after dinner it has been family time. Seriously. I did some stretching and floor exercises last night, though and I already feel better…it’s like exercising is sticking a spigot into me and draining out excess salt and fat.

I got myself a new camera for the beach. A Canon Powershot SX730 point and shoot. The DSLR is great and I love the quality it outputs, but dang it, it’s big and clunky and we don’t have a telephoto lens which would be super expensive. This is to replace my old 230 Powershot which I LOVED and served me well, but just got old and slow. This camera is a little bigger and chunkier than the old one, but I’m not complaining because it’s easy for my hand to grip, not to mention more room for goodies inside the camera. The major reason I bought it, though, is that it has 40x optical zoom–perfect to capture images from the deck of the beach house and not having to go down to the sand.

Of course that means I had to take a billion pictures. Bwahaha.

Here is a series of pictures testing out the optical zoom. It has digital zoom too, but I don’t typically like to use that.

Then here are a bunch of squirrel pictures. I caught it stealing my flowers and eating them. Now I know why we’re not getting bees and birds. Just thought they were dying.

Then of course my boy. Flash and no flash.

 

 

Doggone it

I forgot to cut my nails and it’s Tuesday again! I can’t just go cut them now because working dentistry and fresh cut nails don’t go together. Guh. Will have to do after work.

Speaking of after work, I am taking care of a cat for my friend while she is away. Sat through yesterday was fine, but starting today I’m a little concerned because I won’t be able to get there until late. Today and tomorrow will be fine, but Thursday…………….

Things to do before beach trip: make Gable’s vet appointment and be prepared for another chunk of money lost, pack things, get items from other house (which I straight up forgot in my exhausted state). Reef-safe sunscreen: check! Expensive stuff, let me tell you. Hope that I still fit in my swim-stuff.

I spent Sunday and especially yesterday walking around like a zombie owing to muscle pain, but I found my eclipse glasses! At Walmart! Aaaand I’m glad I dragged my mom with me because we found sunglasses to go to the beach with! I’d forgotten all about it since I broke my old ones. It’s got to be genetic, too, this inability of mine to mop up lactic acid buildup in my muscles. Debilitating! And these days it’s not the second day for the most pain, it’s the third. That is my new standard for someone coming out of youth. I learned that from my patient. Quads and hands, mostly. The sunburn is unnoticeable unless I’m leaning up against something.

Did you know that squirrels are interested in laser pointers too and will follow them? Also, I think my cat allergy is getting worse. It didn’t bother me the first day or two, but I’ve progressively shown more signs of it the more I time I spend with the kitty. Who is adorable btw.

Why don’t I ever sleep well when I have to go to work? At least this weekend will be longer. Must make vet appointment this week.

In other news I bought a cheap semi-rigid endoscope from Amazon. MWAHAHAHA. It works really well when I fed it into the interior areas of my car, but it has trouble focusing well in some instances. Also it doesn’t fit in my ear. Darn. I don’t expect much given how cheap it was, but the lack of focus is a little disappointing and leaves you wanting. However it will be useful for finding items in little places, plain old curiosity, seeing things behind my neck, or even magnifying small text. Too bad my phone is too high tech for it. What limits are there for something like this? HAHAHA. Did you know that a closeup of your auricle is weird? They’re strangely pitted. Mine has some sort of large pit/scab on it.

 

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I can look at the far reaches of his mouth with this! Quality isn’t too bad, yeah?

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Yes, this is the inside of my left nostril. VERY COOL. 

 

 

 

Sunday!

Came back from a Saturday of marathon yardwork with a killer sunburn! Woohoo!

When I came down I was immediately overwhelmed by what a disaster it all had become. Weed-choked beds and weeds galore. The mulch I worked hard on last year? Completely overrun. The plan was to take advantage of this one beautiful Saturday that wasn’t raining to try and at least get the grass killing down because the fence doesn’t rely on heat and sun. And glorious is truly was: gorgeous high of 83 with a moderate breeze and just enough clouds. So I started by commandeering the lawnmower to do it right this time by cutting the grass down as far as it would go before laying down the mulch and landscaping fabric for maximum heat damage. That lawnmower is awesome! Except that the batteries last a total of 10 minutes or so, less if the grass is really thick. Very frustrating. Good thing I don’t plan on owning the house longer than the beginning of next year, because a riding lawnmower would be necessary, and subsequently the dreaded gasoline. The lawn being all weeds didn’t make me feel too terribly bad because if you looked around the neighborhood very few lawns survived this year, but the unkempt factor was annoying. Whatever. I set to work right away (traffic had been so bad it took me forever to start and I had planned on starting earlier before the sun got too high), rolling out landscaping fabric, lofty goals in mind. Ran out, so I made the mulch/fabric/pin run. A guy looked at my items and said to me, “heck of a job for a Saturday,” and I was like, “it’s a nice day.” Same guy smiled knowingly and pityingly at me during checkout. 19 bags later I went back out to finish landscape-fabric-ing and uh oh, the sun was getting bad. But it was OK! Because I didn’t have much of a choice! And there was a breeze!

The difference between this year and last year’s workings

Guhhhhhhhhhhh. The weeds are choking out a tomato plant

By the time I got to spreading the first load of mulch, I was already done for and the expansiveness of the yard hit me hard. Not only did I have but 1/4 of the mulch I actually needed, I could tell my strength was fading and fast. Extremely hot and tired, I came stumbled in around 3pm (I started at 10:30am) and while downing my 2nd Vita Coco stolen from the fridge (water wasn’t anywhere near cutting it), and told my brother in law that I really and truly needed them to buy mulch and spread it for me before the side I prepped turned into the other side. Then I made my way tiredly out to my car, not caring what the heck I was wearing or how I smelled, to buy the second load. This time pushing the cart full of mulch bags was much harder and much less fun. While waiting for my turn at checkout, a couple behind me asked me what case my phone was in. I turned slowly, Ganado-style, and slowly reached for my phone which took 2 tries (I usually stick my phone in the left back and my wallet in the right back), and showed them. He asked if I could sit on my phone without breaking it and I joked that I’ve been sitting on it and we all laughed. The whole time I was frantically hoping in my head that they wouldn’t think I was drunk, possibly having a stroke, but not drunk. Then it was my turn to checkout. Driving home slowly, I unloaded 2 loads, smaller ones because I knew I was quickly fading and still had to spread it. Took some time to put my rocks down around the drainage thing, and frustratingly realized in my addled state that of all the rocks to choose from I chose the one size that would slide willingly into the drain. Figures. I might as well be drunk, holy crap.

Only one more load left (5 bags) I went into the house because I thought I was going to die and needed to rest for a little. Grabbed a new Vita Coco, and went over to my dog’s bed to just lie down for a quickie. I felt my eyes close as my butt hit the ground and as I lay back, Gable barked hard at me before coming to lick my face–something he never does, ever. I could feel Liana lay down on my other side and he wouldn’t stop licking me until I sat up. Right then and there I was revived. I had a surge of energy. It was powerful, having my dogs attentive to my health like that. From 2 dogs that I suspect are ailing from old people stuff. Gable just the other night and morning was displaying more dementia-like symptoms. Liana, I think is intermittently incontinent. I told him that I only have one more and I need to do it so we can go home because otherwise I would crash and never make it back. Like the little engine that could, I kept saying to myself, you can do it. 5 more bags. That’s it. Let’s do this. When it was over, I summoned the last of my strength to take the last wagon-walk back and then grabbed my stuff (slowly) to leave. Talked to my brother in law for a bit and then left. Made it home, finally, and took my long awaited shower ( I knew if I had taken it there I’d never want to drive back). That’s when my next task came: go take care of friend’s cat.

Thankfully, my family called me then to ask what to have for dinner because I hadn’t even thought of food. See, in this instance I am very glad to have someone take care of stuff like dinner and dishes for me. It occurred to me I hadn’t even eaten all day long.

Then we found out about my sunburn. Ouch. Spray sunscreen is great except for on your back. Lotion FTW there. Geez. I hadn’t worn a tank top in years and BOOM there you go. These days I’m so much more comfortable with shorts and tank tops, all thanks to the IPL and possibly old age. Haha. So exhausted, I went to bed around 9pm and ended up on my phone with my brain in full alert mode for an hour. Of course.

Woke up exactly the same time I wake up every day and I could feel my body was going to me unhappy. Ouchies. Not NEARLY as bad as Old Rag, though. I am so proud of myself and glad that my physical state has not deteriorated like that again. Phew! It’s tired and achy, but I can walk and put on my underpants. Definitely could lose some fat, however…

Sunday! A good day to veg out! Or do crafty stuff!

I think I need to clean my room…

I hopped onto bed and picked up my laptop + lap desk like I always do. Something tickles my legs and I think it might be the tag on the lap desk, so I pay it no mind. All of the sudden I see a black thing scurry away from me and it dawns on me that it’s a bug. A fraction of a second of glancing at it positively identifies an arachnid. Cue the alarm bells in my head and subsequent leap to safety. Spider’s location is noted and I go into the bathroom, searching for a container of any kind. I find my used Renuzit Pearl Scents container with used and diminished spheres, empty as much of it into the trash can as possible and race back in, praying that it is where I left it. It IS. YESSS. Clamp container over foe and then realize that I’ve got nothing to slide under it. Good thing my room is a mess but also small. I find a random envelope (it has to have some strength to it) and slide it in slowly. Spider freaks out, but is held at bay by the oily fragrance of melted pearl spheres. I don’t know if they can smell or not, but DANG I’d have passed out stuck in that much scent. As I was searching for paper I realized my folly at not cleaning the container out better, but it did have the side effect of creating a scent/physical cage ring. Of course, with spider safely under container, I try to take pictures of the poor thing and find that indeed it is terrified of the liquefied gel pearls. Then it’s a trip to the deck where it can, in the words of The Shredder: “Go. Play. Have fun.” I put the paper on the ground, and lift up the container. Spider about freaks out and instead of wandering off, tries to make itself small in the middle of the ring of liquid fragrance. So I help and put it into a plant pot.

I am not a bug killer unless it is a fly, a gnat or a mosquito. If it’s bigger than a mosquito/fly then I will try my best to “save” it by relocating it to the outdoors. Technically I might be dooming the critters, but its better than being a floor pancake. As much as I try to be friendly to them, I can’t deny the heebie jeebies that are written into my genome. My body has been on high alert, hypersensitive to airflow for the last 10 minutes. Logically, though, it was a hunter-type spider so no webs and since house spiders typically are loners, no real threat of multiple ones. At least it was a jumper spider. Those things are crazy scary.

Man…I can tell you spider stories. I remember very vividly being bitten by a light brown/tan-ish almost pink/purple/gray one back in the house I grew up in. It was in the raised bed where we usually grew carrots. I can’t remember what season it was, but there were dead leaves and such in it, so I was just trying to help clean things out. It was morning on a weekend, and everyone was inside. I just loved being outdoors so there I was. I think my mom was supposed to come out, but hadn’t made it yet. Anyways, it must have just rained because things were moist. I put  my hands in and picked up a bunch of the dead leaves, carrying it to the kudzu jungle we had. It was cold and wet but I could care less because I loved dirt and getting my hands dirty. I reach in for the second round and OUCH something gets me with a good amount of force. Sharp and with oomph behind it. Alarm bells in the head and I retreat. My hand is dirty so it’s hard to tell what happened, but it immediate swelling and aching meant bite, so I look into the pile and see said spider. It was BIG, man. Hunter type too. It was the exact color of the leaves and debris, no way I would have spotted it on my own. In fact, more than likely it was sleeping or hiding lying in wait and I disturbed it. It was a substantial spider…all broad a plate-like…I wonder if I can find a similar picture of it. I ran inside and cleaned off my hands, making visible the distinct bite marks of a spider and the sudden onslaught of pain. I didn’t want to tell my mom because 1) I was supposed to have waited for her and 2) she had repeatedly told me that I needed to wear garden gloves while doing yard work, and I’d shrugged it off. Then I went back outside, found some garden gloves and continued back over to clean it out, but by then the spider was gone and I couldn’t show anyone even if I wanted to. I think I was 10ish.

Another spider adventure was in Kilmarnock in the dental clinic. That thing was absolutely MASSIVE and by then I was in my 20s. I’d seen it before in a basket and had almost reached down to throw it away because it looked like trash, but I suddenly grew lazy and decided to let someone else deal with it. Good decision or spiritual guidance or whatever because later we saw it crawling around and let me tell you how big this thing was…longest legs I ever saw on a spider in real life and when I rescued it in a Cavicide container I could SEE THE HAIRS ON ITS BACK AND HEAD. And all its eyes too. It was too big to clamp the container over either, so I had to guide it in with a high speed suction tip. After that, it occurred to me that it was the same brown thing I’d seen in that basket, so I went to look and OMG I WAS RIGHT. The brown thing was gone. I guess I’d woken it up when I removed the basket stacked over the one it was sleeping in.

I feel like there is one more major spider adventure, but I forget now and I’m sleepy too. I’ve rescued many an arachnid in my life. I’m rather proud of it and will continue to do.

Now, though, I have to live with this ultra strong fragrance stain I left on my blanket.

So after some internet searching, I’m leaning towards either Hobo Spider or Woodlouse Hunter for the 10 year old bite.

Woodlouse Hunter Spider

Hobo Spider

And I am QUITE certain now that I’m looking at pictures, that the one in Kilmarnock was a Huntsman Spider. Those long legs bring back the memory of it sleeping folded up in the baskets.

This picture looks almost exactly like what I remember

Wow. Reading about these guys, it’s amazing how much “bigger” they all seemed at the time of seeing them in person. GUUUUH I am so ITCHY and paranoid looking through all of these spider pictures!

It’s the little things

I was super proud of my parking yesterday. Usually I tap the little barrier and move up but yesterday I didn’t tap at all and managed to not touch it by millimeters. Whoo! Also my tires are cool even though the drag and poor mileage are a big step down. On the plus side they’re grippy! And rain is nothing. 

On my way home the juxtaposition of the blue sky and threatening clouds obscuring the sun was really very awesome and I just had to snap some pics of them. Gorgeous.

Here pictures of my dogs last night. The boy was barking because he had to go out and she immediately rolled back over once she noticed I had my camera out. Haha!