What's Bugging You Today, Trouble?

Are you a sports fan? Do you ever go to live sporting events, or watch the game with friends at a sportsbar?

When you are in a crowded, boisterous arena or crowded, boisterous sportsbar, do you get upset when people yell, cheer or celebrate with a round of shots?

Some Long Island chicks got bounced from MSG during a Knicks game for being loud and obnoxious. The men who complained about them to security were also rewarded with a beer spilled over their heads. Then the dim-wit twats posted an OMG! and expletive-heavy blog on their experience. So what? Well, that was my first response, too.

However, it's "news" on sports blogs and (predicatably)receiving disgusting comments, focused on the women being "stupid" "ugly", etc. and inferring overall that women aren't allowed to be idiot sports fans.

Have I ever been an obnoxious, drunken fan? Of course, who hasn't--at one time in their life or just last week? Anyone going to Madison Square Garden when the Knicks are playing the Lakers (and getting massacred by same)can't reasonably expect a quiet evening of basketball watching and golf claps. Anyone who goes to a football stadium and gets annoyed by the face-painted fools should really consider either a skybox or watching from home. Those jackasses have an equal right to enjoy the game as you do, wimpy.

Not that I defend these girls, they are really stupid. But the sexism is even stupider. Change it to three bigmouth Guidos from Staten Island and it ain't worth a mention anywhere.

Unless the blowhard in question is directly addressing you, STFU. If you do take it upon yourself to try to teach them your version of stadium manners in the middle of a playoff game, you deserve a beer over your head. Mind your own damn business!

Save your shushing for the symphony, morons. Even if you could pass some prissy laws of conduct and get yourself a Pussy Section at a sports venue that is quiet and respectful of your personal space and allows you to enjoy the game at a level of excitement that suits your Easy-Listening style, I will personally find you and pour a beer over your head.

So there.

Hilarious, Smelly Exercise

When I bought the Prenatal Yoga DVD at Target I had high hopes of getting limber and strong during my pregnancy and maybe getting a jump on losing the weight after hatching my egg in August. Sure, I could take classes with other preggy women. My excuses for not doing so include the expense involved and my propensity for being overly competitive and sometimes hostile in group exercise classes. A $17 disc I can follow at home seemed an ideal solution. Besides, it starred Shiva Rea, who I think is the wife of sexy yoga guy Rodney Yee.

She's tall, thin, blonde and incredibly fit. Shiva also has a soothing, ethereal voice and a demeanor so peaceful and reassuring that it becomes impossible to resent her in any way. I will probably find a way.

I no longer have a yoga mat, the expensive one was pooped on by a dog that wasn't supposed to even be in my house, much less pooping on my yoga mat. The other was put to use during a snow storm by my darling husband, who found it a perfect thing to put under the tires for added traction. Ahem.

Neither do I have a yoga brick, a yoga strap or a yoga blanket. Instead I rely on my decent balance and flexibility, left over from a lifetime of dance and Pilates and Yoga and friggin' Jazzercise. I was overweight before I got pregnant, but I am still pretty bendy.

A few things I failed to consider. During your pregnancy you will certainly notice that your sense of smell is intensified, to the point you can smell donuts from a mile away. Or, every smelly thing embedded in your carpet when you are in Downward Dog and, especially, Child's pose. Every morsel of popcorn dropped on the floor and missed by the vacuum in the last three months shifted the focus of my vinyasa breathing and nearly made me hurl.

About the balance and grace of which I boast? The funny thing about being in the Second Trimester of pregnancy is your burgeoning bump, which on me sits directly in front of my hips and solidly smooshes my internal organs. Lean the wrong way in any direction and the bump slides, crushing my liver, kidney, stomach or bladder's will to live. Also, smooth and even breathing--a hallmark of yoga practice--is more like gulping, heaving, sighing and panting.

Here's a picture: Me in my living room, attempting a Table position. Besides the terrible noises issuing from my nose and mouth, the cat trying to capture the cute ribbon tie on my yoga pants, and my beet-red face; I am wobbling on the smelly carpet on all fours, one shaky arm pointed forward and the opposite side leg held up in back. The cat is under my belly, swatting at my pants. My belly and supersized boobs are trying to make a break for the floor, I am sweating too much and the phone is ringing.

Shiva Rea is reminding me to "focus on the now...be in the present" and I'm finding reason to hate her. The cat stabs one perfectly formed fish hook of a claw in my fleshy, exposed belly and, after I peeled myself off the ceiling, I stand up without inhaling first and hurl the remote control at the TV.

Shiva Rea reminds me that the growing life inside me appreciates my attention to my body's needs for stretching and strength. I'm so glad.

No doubt the growing life inside me also appreciates the Crunch Berries I had for breakfast and my bizarre craving for Coca-Cola.

It's all good, right? I'm taking care of myself, eating (mostly) right (see aforementioned Crunch Berries and Coca Cola) and getting sunshine, lots of water and gentle exercise.

Perhaps I'll give Shiva Rea another chance. I doubt the second try could be worse.

Why is Elizabeth Hasselbeck?

Yesterday on the TV show "The View", which I rarely watch and only was tuned into because I neglected to turn the channel from the night before and was otherwise occupied with laundry, I listened to the rantings of the yentas approvingly. Their outrage on this day was focused,appropriately enough,on Rush Limbaugh and comments the porcine radio host made about President Obama.

Then a little blonde harpie chirped in with the most nonsensical support for Limbaugh I've ever heard. I stopped folding underwear and took a closer look. This woman's sentences got shriller by the word, I noticed, and her empty little head looked close to imploding when her co-hosts interrupted. She looked for all the world like a spitting mad, spoiled two-year old child who isn't getting her way.

Barbara Walters is a distinguished and respected journalist. Whoppi Goldberg is a famous comedienne and actress. Joy Behar is an author and comedian. Sherri Shepard is an actress and comedian. Elizabeth Hasselbeck was an amateur contestant on a reality TV show? She's married to a professional football player? Why is she on this show?

I'll tell you why. Like her hero, Sarah Palin, Elizabeth Hasselbeck represents everything wrong in America that we are trying to change. Both women are reasonably attractive, proudly anti-intellectual, narcissistic fools who hide their lack of education, talent, relevant professional experience, and goodwill behind the labels "Christianity", "Real America", and "Values". In trying to emulate the men they admire, such as Limbaugh or any GOP bullshitter, by spouting racist, ignorant nonsense for attention and money, Hasselbeck and Palin got their wish.

They are frauds. Let us continue to expose, shame and remove all frauds from positions of authority and power. Electing Obama was an excellent start. No more Bush Administration fraud to destroy our country from within. Exposing and prosecuting Rod Blagodovich was a smart move for the State of Illinois and shaming the Wall Street criminals is better late than never, I suppose. California, you have a long way to go: Proposition 8 is shameful and fraudulent leglislation.

Values are indeed due for a comeback. Values such as humility and charity, specificially. Enough with providing fame and fortune to irresponsible and attention-seeking frauds: no more reality TV shows that promote reprehensible human beings, whether "surviving" for millions or strutting sluts or ludicrous "dating" shows. By all means keep showing real-life, healthy families and talent shows and documentaries of real places and real people who succeed in life by their hard work, talent, and intelligence.

Faith is important, but it's more important to us as Americans that one faith does not claim itself the "only, true, right" faith. Not everyone in America--or indeed, the World--who worships and lives their life according to God's will is Christian and it would be wise for Christians to recognize and remember this. Our Constitution clearly provides us the freedom to practice our religion as individuals and assures any one religion from becoming mandate.

Keep your religious beliefs to yourself. Never proselytize. Do not demand any state or federal entity acquiesce to your religious practices. Enjoy your faith in the privacy of your home and within the religious community to which you belong.

Fraud abounds. Stop allowing and encouraging it, please.

Eight is Enough!

So, this 33-year old "perpetual student" and former fertility clinic worker, a single mom of six living with her overburdened parents in Southern California, had eight frozen embryos implanted into her infertile womb. All those babies were born relatively healthy, although premature and likely to have liftime health issues.

Quite the quandry and the firestorm set off by this story is shocking in its ferocity.

Questions:

*Which mental illness(es) is this woman clearly suffering from?
*Is she being paid as a breed cow and if so, by whom and why?
*Has she done this in a calculated bid to become a reality TV star and celebrity?
*What moral/ethical issues were trampled to pulp in the process of bringing these children into the world?
*If we say reproductive choice should be legal and sacred, how does this woman's decisions become open to public moralizing and judgment?
*How much of blame and responsibility rests with the medical professionals who agreed to the procedure and treated her for infertility when she already had six children (including one special-needs child) under eight-years old at home?
*Is it time for the U.S. to adopt and legalize fetal implantation limits?
*How much government intervention in human reproduction is right and fair?

Well, Hello!

My, my, it's been awhile, hasn't it? My decision to privatize this blog was mostly due to really ignorant emails I received from people clearly not fans of my blatherings. That and the potential for anyone, anywhere to access this blog (and therefore delve into the innerworkings of my mind and other personal details)and link to it and mock me and so on. It is supremely annoying.

Hopefully those nutters have moved on to shinier objects and will leave us, you and me, alone.

So, I'm back, hey!

What's new:

Month four of my fifth pregnancy, the first since I started treatment for bipolar disorder. I'm completely off my psych meds (which is AWESOME) and under the care of my psychiatrist, my OB/GYN, and my internist who all have their eyes peeled for problems. Problems? What problems? The pregnancy is going very well and I feel incredible now that I'm not constantly dealing with Lithium side effects. As tempting as it is to think I can continue this free ride, I know it is neither healthy nor realistic.

Especially since I'm having insomnia. Insomnia is bad for anybody when it lasts more than a few days but for bipolar people it is exceptionally likely to trigger either depression or hypomania (mania without psychosis). It's been three weeks now of 3-4 hours of sleep per night (I find napping impossible) and I'm worried. OB/GYN says insomnia is typical at this stage of pregnancy but PsyDoc is concerned and is ready to call in a prescription at a moment's notice.

I am lucky to have family, friends and doctors who are supportive and caring. Too many bipolars have to deal with ignorance and hostility in addition to their already-heavy load of suffering. The few times I've encountered that bullshit I've put a quick end to that relationship--including dumping my family doc of 15 years because she kept insisting my physical problems (hives, back pain, IBS) were obviously (magically) creations of my psychological disorder and I should stop wasting her time:

Saw an endocrinologist for the chronic hives problem. He diagnosed Hashimoto's Thyroiditis and prescribed a higher dose of my thyroid meds and Sudafed as needed. Problem solved!

Saw a chiropractor for my ongoing back pain problems, for which I'd already been unsuccessfully treated with physical therapy and pain drugs, and in one adjustment straightened out my twisted pelvis. Problem Solved!

Saw several gastroenterologists for the IBS issues and had a colonoscopy. Clear, clean, healthy. Went off Lithium and IBS issues were instantly gone. Problem Solved!

...yes, I clearly made up those symptoms to irritate you, Dr. Assclown. Oh, and thanks SO much for pulling the nurse aside when I was in the hospital recently for a a medical emergency and telling her I was a "psych" patient. The nurse was incredulous and told me right away what you said, stupid.

Have I made my point clear? Yes, I think so. No one should ever put up with bad treatment from medical professionals. Not "psych" patients, not anyone.

And anyway, I'm happy you're reading and hoping those other jerks aren't.

Interesting Times

Superfly hubby and I were supposed to spend the entire month of October traveling. Two exciting Las Vegas auto shows and a much-anticipated-yet-delayed Hawaiian honeymoon.

Instead, we are at home, going all frugal on yo ass. Trips canceled (saving about $4k) and Operation Financial Recovery in full effect.

Coupon clipping, walking everywhere, cleaning the house instead of watching TV or fooling around on the computer. Spending time at the library and more hours reading the books we check out.

Instead of going out to eat because we are friggin' lazy we're planning menus for the week and learning to cook new things. Supey is aces at homemade pizza!

We're actually utilizing our free, state-of-the-art gym here at our apartment complex and he lost 5 lbs. or so, within days. Amazing. I hate him.

But really, it is amazing. Shuffling off complacency produces a wildly exciting feeling of freedom and power and instead of being depressed, resentful, angry, whatever, over the state of things, we put our resourcefulness to work and we're both feeling pretty positive about our ability to weather the coming financial doom.

Things that Help:

1. We do not have any savings, investments, or 401(k).

Sadly, these are the hardest-hit accounts, with no relief in sight. Where do you think Wall St. will bail water from?

2. I have a guaranteed income every month from SSDI that — so long as McCain and Himmler are not elected — is as secure as it can get. I also receive health insurance and free prescriptions.

3. Lived most of my life in poverty; I know from frugal.

How to produce a dinner for five from nothing is my specialty.

4. We have little debt.

Debt does nothing good. Live within your means, people. Lose the credit cards and go with one debit card per household. Convert that mortgage or sell the damn thing. Downsizing is all the rage!

How are YOU coping with the Great Depression, Part Deux?

A Curious Circle

In November of 1999 I had three things on my mind: my pregnancy, the national election, and the Millennium Bug. My baby, you see, was due in early January of 2000 and everyone around me was all hopped-up about doom. Doom if George W. Bush won the Presidency and worse doom when the world's computers fragged-out on December 31 at midnight.

I watched in horror as the national election became a joke, the GOP stealing, lying and cheating in broad daylight. The disgust I felt in the ensuing weeks as canards about hanging chads and the electoral college were palmed off as "facts" and this yutz, this last-choice of the already-repellent Bush family became our cheerfully retarded President and made the U.S. the laughingstock of the Universe.

Nothing happened on January 1, 2000, other than a sale on free-standing generators. My son was born on 1/17/00 and received fun gifts for being a Millennium Baby.

Eight years later, the retard is finally on his way out. But here we are again with the doom. The GOP propped up another set of cheerful retards for ignorant people to get behind. Palin's chortling about "Hockey Mom!" is as terrifying as can be, given her history of being actively evil in public office. But some women, wanting a woman in the White House (no matter how evil) at all costs, or simply identifying with Palin on superficial (not to mention manufactured) qualities, are crying "sexism" when anyone (rightfully) criticizes Palin's lack of experience, insight, or political know-how. You can almost see Cheney's hand coming out of the back of Palin's conservative blouse.

McCain himself is not a bad choice for President. But McCain is not totally on board with the GOP fiends, and Palin will be on board for anything her overlords say. So let's pretend they are elected. McCain karks it soon enough, making this lipsticked pig our President. New Supreme Court justices are appointed. Goodbye Roe v. Wade, hello prayer in school and creationism taught alongside evolution. Hello offshore and national park drilling, goodbye pristine environment and endangered species! I could go on about what a terrible vote that would be, but let's move on.

I hope to be pregnant by November, which will mean another long and dyspeptic Tuesday night. Not as frightened about the world this child will be born into as I was eight years ago, though. I guess we can thank the GOP for numbing us to the unimaginable. "Really, a war in Afghanistan and Iraq for oil? That never ends?"

As for the other doom thing: Wall St. crashing, banks folding, people homeless and jobless, dogs and cats living together, etc.

We cashed out our 401(k)s long ago and have no other investments and no debt or credit whatsoever. I receive Disability from Social Security and Superfly hubby does his own thing for himself. If SSDI ran out and jobs dried up, we have the skills to get food and shelter and will manage just fine. For us, it is justice served to see, for example, the Walton family (of Wal-Mart evil) crying about their billions and re-stocking their doomsday shelter.

I have always hated the rich and powerful, it's part of my anarchist/Communist DNA. Even if I became wealthy beyond my wildest dreams (and that isn't something I dream about) I would hate other rich people and plot against them.

In November of 2008 I will have three things on my mind: my pregnancy, the national election, and the 2nd Great Depression.

I look forward to the ignorant drive-by comments this post may get, from bloated Republican men who clearly learned nothing in the last eight years of GOP criminal acts, and also think their opinion means more than nothing to me.

A Baby Story

Superfly hubby and I are about to embark on an experience unlike anything either of us have lived.

Well, I've been pregnant before but never while on (much needed) medication.

So, with the help of my psychiatrist (Dr. G), my OB/GYN (Dr. R.), and a dizzying array of blood tests and doctor appointments, we are going to try to have a baby.

Surely there are moms out there who have it tougher, say, moms with cancer or moms with physical impairments. I will do whatever my doctors tell me, try not to vex my sweet husband, and leave it up to Mother Nature whether or not I get to have a fifth beautiful, healthy child.

People I actually care about voice their concern for my age and mental health, or wondering why I would want to bring yet another Trouble baby into the world. Because I do care about these people, I don't tell them to go fuck themselves.

The Stakes: I must be off Lithium for the first trimester, no exceptions. I am 40 years old and in good physical condition. No one knows what to expect when I'm expecting, as an unmedicated Bipolar person (for a few months, anyway). Risks aplenty, for everyone involved.

The Yield: A beautiful, healthy child. A chronicle of a pregnancy many people around us think is unwise and dangerous for me, that I hope will be helpful to other bipolar moms.

Not a Baby Story you'll see on TLC, for sure!