(Man-made) Things I enjoy seeing outdoors

• mail boxes
• pipes sticking out of the ground
• man hole covers
• street signs (esp. unusual)
• anything embedded in a sidewalk
• old cars in fields
• hammocks
• bicycles (parked & moving)
• broken chain link fences
• abandoned gas stations
• water towers
• abandoned towers of unknown purpose
• flags (American, foreign, holiday-themed)
• telephone poles
• reflectors on poles
• reflectors on trees
• old retail signs
• stray bricks
• rumble strips
• anything metal or concrete that has become overgrown with grass

Don’t think for a second I like every single man-made thing I witness outdoors.  Here is a sample of things I do not particularly enjoy seeing:

• semi trucks
• golf courses
• land mines*
• McDonald’s (unless it has a flag flying)
• cell phone towers

*I have not seen a landmine yet, but if I had, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it.

This morning I went to Grayslake for work and noticed yellow hydrants everywhere!  I photographed all of these in the span of about two blocks.  That town is seriously prepared in case of fire.

I photographed this one last, but wanted to post it first to point out that it is a short & squat cousin of all the others. I wonder if it gets jealous of how long & lean they are.

When I have more time I am going to write a list of all the stuff I enjoy looking at outside.

An animal has eaten quite a bit of my garden. Here are the plants that used to be there, but no longer are:

• lettuce
• cucumber
• zucchini
• snap peas*

Here is what remains:

• squash
• onions
• tomatoes
• carrots (maybe–very teeny tiny amount of greenery coming up from these)

I was very excited about the tomatoes because they have all septupled in size.  Then I saw my neighbors’ tomato plants and suddenly mine went from being huge to being half the size they should be around now.  I blame the neighbors themselves.  They have a large tree that is overhanging in our yard and blocking quite a bit of the sun.

If you are thinking, “Jessica, you’re an idiot for planting a garden in the shade,” THINK TWICE!!  This tree has really branched out–literally–and my sunny piece of land is now only sunny half of the time (or less).  Boo hoo.  I trimmed the four branches I could reach with a step ladder.  Don’t think the cost of a professional tree trimmer would pay for itself with squash and tomatoes…….

Maybe next year.

*The peas might’ve died because I waited too long to put up a big piece of mesh plastic fencing for them to climb up.

Sometimes I get to travel to other towns in Illinois for work. When I was in Western Springs (I think) I was delighted to find this blue fire hydrant.

Then I found this yellow one.

Then I found their baby. Or maybe a friend who couldn’t pick a side.

My grandma’s town used to have a fire hydrant painted like a man. Not good for visibility, but the town is small so I’m sure the fire fighters knew where all hydrants were located.

I have a long history of being a skeptic, I’ve realized.  I didn’t believe the vet tech when he said dogs’ penises have bones in them, even though he’s an expert.  Why?

I remember being about 10 years old and having an uncle describe bayonets to me.  I didn’t believe him.  I knew about guns and knew about knives, but a gun with a knife on the end?  He must be lying!

I asked my mom and when she said it was true, I believed in bayonets.  That’s pretty much how I am to this day, but instead of asking my mom, now I ask google everything.  (& no, I do not count Wikipedia alone as a reliable source, but that’s for a different conversation.)

I took my dogs to the vet yesterday.  I go to a special vet in Fox Lake and by “special” I mean they charge 1/3rd of the price of all other vets in the state of Illinois.  Not only that, but they’re good, honest, and nice.  Sound too good to be true?  It is.  It’s first-come-first-served which means you sometimes have to wait 2-3 hours to see someone.

Anyway.  I have some disgusting stories to tell, but I’m going to make it quick.

STORY #1: Wheezy has had blood in her stool recently, so I mentiond this.  The vet tech asked if I brought in a stool sample.  I said no.  He said no problem, he can get one.  As I was beginning to reply that I wasn’t sure if she had to go right now, he put on a rubber glove and asked me to hold her.  He physically extracted the sample from her colon using his fingers.

Ew, right?

STORY #2:  Cockroach has had signs of a urinary tract infection lately, so I brought it up.  The vet tech said I have to start cleaning the dog’s penis regularly, and proceeded to show me the technique.  There’s really not much of a story to this one, other than I thought it was gross.

Oh, and I learned that dogs’ penises have actual bones in them.  The vet tech had a thick accent (Russian?) so I made him repeat that factoid about 5 times because I thought he was saying something crass the first few times and the other times I didn’t believe him.  I think he could tell I didn’t believe him so he made me feel it.  My dog looked at me like he felt violated by the whole process.

It is surreal to hear the “alternative” music I liked in middle school (considered weird, different, edgy by almost all adults and quite a few of the kids) playing on “The Mix” or, even worse, “LiteFM.”

I went to a financial planner today.  After ten years of carrying thousands worth of debt on credit cards, I finally paid it off a few months ago.

In the 3 months since paying off the debt I have been blowing through money, enjoying the fact that I no longer have to live super frugally.  The jig is officially up!

The financial advice I received is to get at least $5,000-$6,000 in savings before doing anything.  The “anything” I want to do includes opening an IRA (Individual Retirement Account) and saving for a house.  Oh & there is still that pesky student loan debt to worry about.

For the first time ever I feel I have a somewhat healthy relationship with money.  I don’t know if that is because I am becoming more mature, making better choices, etc., or if it’s simply because I have more money to work with.

For years I hated money, just as a general rule.  I thought it made poor people suffer and rich people greedy.  Finally I am learning to see that it is neutral, just a tool.  Loving money allows danger to creep in, but so does hating it, I’d say.

More later.

I promised my mom pedicures for Mother’s Day and just got around to doing it last Saturday.  It is Tuesday and my nail polish hasn’t chipped yet.  Nice.

I am realizing how I change over the years.  I used to love nail polish in middle school/early high school, but only on my toes.  Late high school & college I hated it.  It’s been hot and cold since then.

I have also changed my mind about colors.  (Not nail polish colors, just colors in general.)  For many years I hated purple.  Over the past year I have slowly warmed up to it, and for the first time in my life I now embrace it.

The lower photo is smaller as a favor to all those people who hate feet out there.  I used to be one of you, and let me tell you, life is so much better if you get over it and stop being grossed out all the time.

Also my toes look like that because I was practicing “yoga toes,” which basically means spreading your toes apart so none of them touch.

I have something wrong with me usually called fibromyalgia.  Other times it has other names (migraine, irritable bowel, etc.), but to me it’s always the same thing.  The demon that haunts me likes to put on different masks as a surprise.

I don’t write or talk about this much, but I have decided to change that after a trip to the ER earlier this week.  There have been so many days and nights that I have spent searching the internet, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me, trying to get the smallest insight into how to fix it.  I can’t let my own issues (worrying people will think I’m self-centered, a hypochondriac, fishing for sympathy, etc.) keep me from sharing information online that could help those literally searching in search engines for an answer.

I want to air out some of the nasty emotions that get tied up in this weird condition.  This health problem has dragged me across the board emotionally.  I see the emotions as being divided in two:  those related to the pain and illness itself, and those that come from me trying to deal with the rest of the world while having pain and illness.

• Panic, fear. There have been moments in which I literally thought I was going to die right then and there.  It is a raw feeling I cannot begin to describe.  Fibromyalgia symptoms can mimic heart attack or stroke.  My head has pounded so hard I can see the blood vessels in my face throbbing and hear blood rush through my ear.  At other times I have worried that my odd collection of symptoms means I have an underlying disease or cancer that will eventually bring me to ruin.  Also scary.
• Depression, sadness, emptiness. Most times I know I’m not on the verge of death.  I accept the fact that I just so happen to be afflicted with a disorder that feels like death, but doesn’t slowly or swiftly destroy my body.  The panic subsides.  Instead of feeling grateful, a sadness creeps in.  What is the purpose of me being alive if I have to struggle hard to tolerate living?  Pain that indicates impending death is horrible, of course, but at least it makes sense. Why am I struck with the tragedy of having a healthy (according to most tests and measures) body that I cannot make the most of?
• Guilt. These depressive thoughts often lead to guilt.  Who do I think I am?  Am I trying to imply my problem is worse than fatal illnesses such as cancer or AIDS?  Those sufferers feel the pain I feel and know their lives will likely be shortened.  How ungrateful am I that I cannot rejoice in the fact that–so long as I am not blindsided by a bus–I will get to live a long life?  Why do I throw myself a pity party when there are people who are worse off?  The pain leads to automatic sadness, but I always feel ashamed and guilty about it, as if sadness isn’t something I have earned or deserve.
• (False) hope. I suppose this is the equivalent of “bargaining” in the stages of grief.  I talk myself into a new optimism that says I can beat this thing, if only I exercise everyday, eat lots of organic fruits & veggies, sleep 8 hours per night, meditate and do yoga, take the right supplements, and become some all-natural goddess.  I go through ups and downs between the hope and the sadness that results when I realize the hope is a farce.  I am told I can only realistically hope for good management of the disorder, not a cure.  This isn’t some virus that will be cleared up by pills.  I will never go back to normal.
• Jealousy. One of the top feelings that crops up when dealing with others is jealousy.  There are very basic things most people take for granted that I cannot do, or cannot do regularly without a strong payback.  Drink a cup of coffee.  Drive a car (easily or well) after dark.  Get drunk.  Stay out late more than one night in a row.  Hang out in loud crowded bars.  Go to concerts and shows often.  Have a glass of red wine.  Wear perfume.  Go a week without exercising.  Etc., etc.
• Frustration. After jealousy comes frustration.  Communicating how this problem works and what I can and cannot do is insanely difficult.  I feel upset if someone is disappointed that I won’t go to a concert or out drinking.  It is hard to explain that I can only do those things when I can do those things, and it might not be the same day you invite me, but that’s not personal.  Do I beg people to invite me out only to turn them down frequently, or do I give up and become a recluse?  & even if a friend “gets” that I can’t always drink or be in loud places, what about other stuff?  How to explain that today I can’t drive, or can’t hang out because of your perfume, or just want to go home abruptly because my extremities are tingling plus I have a hunch I’ll be in the bathroom all night and I don’t want it to be yours?  I don’t want to offend anyone, which is what seems to occur when I don’t explain why I can act so strangely, yet over-explaining the minute idiosyncrasies of my illness feels arrogant, self-centered, boring.
• Hurt. Even though I deal with the pain, sadness, guilt, jealousy, frustration, etc. by staying home and laying low, I still feel hurt from time to time when no one bothers to check up on me or give me a kind word.  Even though I try so hard to make sure I do not come across as asking for sympathy or attention, I still cry when I feel I’ve been forgotten and left behind.  Maybe I will say “no” most times you invite me to a bar or concert, but that doesn’t mean I never want you to call again.  Fibromyalgia is punishment enough.  I don’t want to lose friends on top of it.
• Worry. I am not a rich woman and sometimes I worry about getting by.  I work from home and still have to take sick days from time-to-time.  What if I can’t work full-time forever?  I should be saving to prepare for that.  Or I should be spending the extra dough on organic foods and yoga classes and natural beauty products and monthly massages, because they will help protect against getting worse.  What if I leave my work-from-home job or am fired, only to find I cannot handle being in an office with fluorescent lighting and perfumed coworkers?  What if my boyfriend leaves me because I have become a burden and then I’m both jobless and lonely?

My hope is that some day I will write about this and will be able to end with a big fat

PEACE.

Not peace as in “peace out,” but peace as in that is the major state fibromyalgia has brought me.  I have always heard that surrender can lead to new levels of peace, tranquility, trust, faith, wisdom, spiritual connection, etc.  I have surrendered to this pain and this intruder in my life so many times, but that doesn’t last long and eventually hope that I can beat it or sadness that I can’t pops back in.  The closest to true acceptance and peace I’ve come to is getting a good night’s sleep.