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So. Multiple friends have suggested I write something like this, because no matter how often I say it, I still get invalidated, scolded, told I shouldn't be doing it because it upsets people. And of course, it would be talking about my life, my disabilities, my personal health, in public forums.

To paraprhase a friend: "...taking someone's lived experiences as they apply to their particular disability and how it expresses itself, and saying that they can't talk about that because it will make other people feel bad, is not okay and it invalidates them to varying degrees. Different disabilities affect different people in different ways."

In other words, sometimes comparing things is bad. We are human. Humans all have problems. Each human has their own set of problems. Some humans want to talk about their personal problems in ways that other humans find annoying, upsetting, unsettling - but other humans find those ways comforting, eye-opening, powerful.

I don't know how else to say it, so I'll be blunt, and this time I am not going to pull any punches:
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I had so much amazing sushi it was amazing. I watched with amusement as one friend requested lobster miso and got, literally, a bowl of miso with a lobster claw in it... in the shell, and no tools save for chopsticks. I wanted more sushi, and they let me have more sushi because I fucking could, oh my gods, even the waitress was impressed.
I walked around a shopping area at night with friends and I didn't have a cane and it was all fine, and I socialized easily with four good good people, and when I woke up in the late morning, I hurt so badly that the only way I could get out of bed and walk anywhere, say, to the bathroom, was to put myself back into a half-asleep state.

And then... then, I got asked to weigh in on a discussion about how "our organic bodies must learn to heal themselves without medicine blah blah blah" and I was too tired to give a smackdown, so I just warned that HOLY NAKED CATS CHRONIC ILLNESS AND DISABILITY DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT YOU ETERNALLY FLOATING-HEAD HIPPIE WANNABE. Never tell someone who needs certain medications to function to just quit those medications, or you will have to deal with some very, very irritated cripples.
Like, HI, this drug here, synthetically derived from that plant over there, is saving my life, and fuck you. Yes, yes, the medical community likes to "push" drugs and all, but sometimes those drugs keep people alive, so seriously shut your rainbow-dribbling mouth.
I have spent over a decade writing essays and blog posts about this, starting from that floating head holistic hippie phase of Only Supplements and Essential Oils and Meditation, to Okay This Requires a Chemical Drug So I Don't Die But Can I Still Take The Supplements to Goddammit I'm Just Going To Balance Holistics, Botanicals, and Pharmaceuticals forever.
And the next person to use the words "poison" and "Harmacy" in conversation with me will be threatened with getting hidden completely if not blocked from my forum feeds. Because I really am a serious holistic and scientific advocate for various healing plants and botanicals. I am a shaman in training. But chemicals come from various places. And sometimes, the chemicals extracted by scientists have a better effect than the pure volatile chemicals.
You think side effects from FDA drugs are bad? Eat a whole plant and spend a few hours writhing in hallucinatory agony. And GUESS WHAT: some people never even get bad side effects. Trileptal. Zoloft. Baclofen. Soma. Tramadol. Codeine. Klonopin. Guess what? I'M NOT A FUCKING ZOMBIE. Guess what else? I AM BETTER THAN I HAVE BEEN. So you know what? Float on. The cloud are gorgeous up there.
But my body cannot organically heal itself, sorry. If you're on of those people who like to say, "I'm not against pharmaceutical drugs at all, but have you ever considered just letting your body work on itself naturally?" You will be met with raucous laughter that would make the Joker question my sanity.
I have been dealing with this since my early twenties. I'm gone through the ENTIRE gamut of medicines after being raised literally on vitamins and homeopathy and various therapies and acupuncture. I will not claim to be an expert. But I've had life experience.
So hey, if you're going to cheerfully toss out a casual, callous thought about how someone shouldn't take a pill anymore and see what happens, you really don't know. You don't know. And this is why I try to go out there and help educate, advocate and activist. Because if I don't, people will remain head-floating.
I was once head-floating, and it was a good high while it lasted. This is why many of my friends are scientists, medical doctors, medical students, researchers, etc. I ask a lot of questions. Because I never want to be that head-floaty again.

Anyway. I applied a cream with special oils to my chakra points on my feet, palms, and ears, and my forehead. I took my "harmaceutical" drugs. I stretched. I did acupressure. I meditated. I did my personal compensated form of qigong (of which yoga is only a small part, so don't bother), I recited various phrases to relax myself and let my darker emotions drain away.

In conclusion: If I specifically as for opinions about something incredibly specific, I ask that people stick to that topic. Unlike my friend's post, which was derailed by a hippie wannabe who happily invalidated everyone by insisting that all we need is our own organic body to be healed. Sorry, friend. I hope that drug is going to work well for you! I've never tried it, as I haven't needed it. But I'm happy to help with research.

Anyway. Sushi makes things better. Lots and lots of sushi. Lots. Sushi.
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Seizure happened in the kitchen. Jupiter meowed and rubbed against me while I crouched. Adam came in and gently lay me on the floor. My eyes were open and blank. Adam touched my face and reached for my mind, and I spasmed and gasped and blinked. I asked why I was on the floor. Adam helped me up and stood me against the large freezer. My memory is swirling. Alicia is holding me. Earlier, Adam said he told his boss, a fellow animal lover, that he needed an extra day to care for his wife. I rolled my eyes and said that was not necessary; that I was fine. Never mind. It was so dark and so white equally braided as order and chaos magics. I was spinning at ninety-nine percent light speed and thirty-five miles an hour. The world was elsewhere. A few seconds lasted a thousand years. Adam suggested I go upstairs and rest. Jupiter is suggesting a cuddle. I am thinking coffee and clonazepam and baclofen. I am made of light and love and pure order-chaos magic in its simplest form. I can give myself the right strength. May be that I can regenerate. As brightly and intensely as a Time Lord. I always shine enough for everyone.

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My cats are so spoiled that we serve their gooshyfood on a white ceramic gold-rimmed plate. Luckily, all three will eat from the same plate, from a single can of moist food, and it's more supplemental, twice a week, to the free-feeding with organic or semi-organic dry food. We also shop at H-Mart for worldly produce and fresh well-kept meat. And we go to Whole Foods and Roots for goat cheese, wine, and my skin care if I don't order it online. Yes, we are poor semi-yuppies. We treat ourselves when we are financially able and live off the riches for a while.

So, I asked Adam to drive me to Petco for food because he had a car and was very strong. We decided to hit up Unleashed By Petco (also because the people there are just that cool).
I was going to buy another huge bag of Solid Gold, and then I got into a lengthy, intellectual conversation with a store associate named Amy. See, once I explained that what I wanted was nutritional density, we had a long talk, and on the way to the Solid Gold bag, I stopped and picked up of Blue Wilderness Duck Formula, and then we grabbed a bag of Solid Gold Indigo Moon. Amy read off the Analysis of both for comparison. And I realized that while Solid Gold was 15 pounds and Blue Wilderness was 12 pounds, Blue Wilderness was much more nutrient dense.
My cats already loved Blue Buffalo in general, and I'd fed them Wilderness once; and I realized that the main reason I'd been buying Solid Gold was because of the bag size. But, as Amy and I agreed, nutrient and nutritional density was more important than the weight of the food. There was a three pound weight difference... but Wilderness was packed with more intense nutrition, in my eyes.
Also, I picked up that 12 pound bag with no issues, and realized that if I were alone, I could walk with it all the way to Lake Forest Transit Center, which was a ten minute walk.
I also mentioned that I was shopping for canned food, and I knew they carried Soulistics, which I pronounced "solstice" - and that made Amy giggle wildly. "You pronounce it soulstice like I do! I keep messing up!" I chose the chicken pumpkin multi-can wrapped set. My cats go wild over Soulistics.
And while we were there, I decided to test out my weight limits on litter by picking up a 14 pound bag of World's Best Cat Litter and resting it on my right shoulder. I smiled at Adam and Amy, and realized that yes, if I absolutely had to, I could carry one or the other. Giant sells a very good brand called "Feline Favorite 100-percent All-Natural Clumping Cat Litter" which contains zeolite crystals - and according to their claim, a 10 pound back has the same volume has 50 pounds of clay litter (hah, we'll see about that).
But knowing that I could hit Giant for litter and Unleashed for food all by myself, back and forth by bus with my free ride Metro Access pass, made me realize that my independence as a disabled person is getting better all the time.
And those strength training exercises are probably helping, too.
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Somehow, my neighborhood area rarely gets hit with all the weather that hits everything around it.
Mom called to say, "So, I hear all the towns and cities in Montgomery County got slammed all over with a tornado. Are you okay?"
And I blinked and said, "Wait... tornado? OH. Right! Tornado! No, we just had a violent screaming thunderstorm that sent me panicking into my bedcovers after taking anxiety drugs."
Later, Adam called from his job in Las Vegas (101 degrees, dry heat) and asked how our community area had fared. I told him that it was wet. And fine. Not even a power outage.
I'm starting to think all the magic and psychic shielding that he and I had placed around our house has extended to our community. Or something. Who knows. Like, if trees get knocked down from storms, it's always in the neighborhood next to ours. If a water main breaks, it's one around the corner that doesn't affect us. If there is a local power outage for us, it doesn't last long. If there is a random screaming gunfight, it's far away enough that we're not bothered beyond having to call 911. Any sort of major damage somehow becomes far less damaging once it reaches where I live. Now I just feel weird.
And now I shall knock on every piece of wood in the house. Including the maple tree in front.

I have no idea how the weather will act tomorrow, but I hope to do a little more grocery shopping. It's gotten to the point where I've stopped giving a fuck if I get caught in the rain. It washes my hair for me.
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I am Blue and Green and Purple. Why, I don't know. I just am.
http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/amazonite
http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/labradorite
http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/charoite
http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/kyanite
http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/jade

1. Oh my various gods, this is such a lovely green.
2. Gemstone dictionary. I love it.
3. This actually works. I am wearing it now next to amber. It is amazing.
http://gemstone-dictionary.com/amazonite.php

Also, my absolute favorite shade of green. Also, powerful as power healing, kind of like Reiki...
http://psychicwomenwarriors.blogspot.com/2009/05/seraphinite-higher-vibrational-feminine.html

Current jewelry:

Right wrist: Labradorite, multi-color raw amber, fluorite (clear, green, blue, purple, pink), lilac lepidolite with eternity symbol charm.
Left wrist: Labradorite, lemon raw amber, honey raw amber, purple lepidolite, multi-color tourmaline, blue kyanite, charoite.
Right hand: Engagement ring (rose gold, heirloom white diamond in white gold bezel setting, three blue diamonds on each side, raised channel setting with rose gold pave. Charoite with seraphinite side stones. Seraphinite with charoite side stones.
Left hand: Wedding ring (Green Gold. Celtic eternity/healing knot with triquetra symbols on each side; extremely similar to the Auryn symbol in the movie version of The NeverEnding Story.) Heirloom plain thin gold band. Amber flanked with Bali beads. Charoite flanked with Bali beads. Amazonite flanked with Bali beads.










I don't know why I feel weirdly defensive when people ask me why I wear "so much jewelry" - I mean, it's about healing, and strength, and serenity, and power... and yes, OCD. But mostly about power.

I mean, gemstones do have power. Amber is genuinely healing; there have been studies. Same with lepidolite. Labradorite has been discovered in meteorites. Tourmaline has been shown to help shield from electromagnetic radiation. Wearing green jade has brought luck. And most psychically sensitive people have been able to feel intense energies and auras radiating from various rocks and minerals. They're never just "pretty rocks" to me. But if that is what it takes to convince people, I will nod and smile and say "pretty rocks."
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Random photos, because I'm bored.

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Fine, then, 2013. Bring it.

Dear Joanna: Read All The Books. Seriously. They've piled up on the couch in the office.

I accidentally clipped the fingernails on my right hand too much, so the nerve endings have been complaining and throbbing. I've been massaging my hands with healing ointments to help speed up nail growth. So far so good.

The people at AT&T really are wonderful to me. They're giving me an early upgrade for almost nothing. Soon in the mail I shall receive a refurbished Samsung Galaxy S 3 smartphone. I will probably be incapable of making it work by myself, but that is what AT&T retail stores are for. Now to find a way to store my music somewhere so I can transfer it later.

So, yeah, Lavera Beautiful Lips Lipstick in Deep Red 04 combined with It Cosmetics Vitality Lip Flush Lipstick in Pretty Woman is the best lipcolor combination ever. Also, Lavera Natural Liquid Foundation in Porcelain 01 and Lavera Long Lash Mascara are so amazing and moisturizing I could probably fall asleep in them and wake up with healthier skin. Because seabuckthorn oil is amazing.

http://www.naturalhealthyconcepts.com/beautiful-lips-lipstick-deep-red.html
http://www.naturalhealthyconcepts.com/natural-liquid-foundation-porcelain.html
http://www.naturalhealthyconcepts.com/long-lash-mascara-black-lavera.html

Also, CVS now has this brand new prescription rewards deal where they give you CVS money when you refill a certain amount of prescriptions. It's about time, too.
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A conversation that just happened:
Me: You know... I just realized. In the past several days, no matter what has been happening, I've been forgetting that it is Christmas tomorrow. And I just don't care.
Adam: *smiling*
Me: I mean, like... spiritually? Not like foodening and socializing and such? But in essence. I just realized... I just don't give a fuck that it's Christmas. I'm happy to hang out with people who celebrate it, and eat the foods, you know, like seven fishes and roast meats and pumpkin pie and whatever, and to socialize and hang out and chat and be merry. But Christmas is the one and only holiday I truly do not care about in a spiritual essential way. Isn't that funny?
Adam: Honey... you never have.
Me: ...oh. Right.
Adam: Just pretend it's a second Thanksgiving!
Me: Yeah! I can do that!

Because, you know, we have been making pumpkin pies and other foods to bring to C.'s house for the "traditional Christmas Day dinnering" and such. And I just kept... drawing blanks. I knew we were doing something big on that day. But I had already had Saturnalia and Solstice and Yule, with Solstice gifting and giving, and my brain went, "Wait, there's another one? Shit, what's that? Oh! Is that what all this music and shopping is about?" And this is the first year my brain has done that actively. This is the first year I have actually, actively realized how little Christmas means to me on an essential, spiritual, level. On a social level, it's a day to hang out with friends and family with food and drink. Like most holidays. And I don't even feel weird about it. Although I do feel weird that I feel weird about it...
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Oh, and we made our usual cookies with chocolate chips and goji berries, but with this batch we added moringa powder and bee pollen. It didn't change the taste but it it increased the superpower food power.

Note for self. Yup, the Biotin and Inositol supplements are working beautifully. My hair is almost down to my bra strap. My plan is to grow it close to my waist by this time next year. 20,000 mcg Biotin plus 1300 mg Inositol, every day. Also, the Inositol helps with anxiety attacks and the Biotin helps with cellular growth. Adding in Sea Buckthorn and Moringa is doing so many wonderful things for my skin, especially the eczema, xeroderma, itching, redness, flakiness, and sensitivity.

OMG, you guys... Inositol plus Passionflower does unbelievable things to anxiety attacks, for me anyway. I am so relieved. I can breathe, oh yes.

I truly don't care what anyone says. The proper pharmaceutical drugs in the proper dosages in the proper combinations help me feel as wonderful and painless and fantastic as I possibly can for a few blessed hours in a body and brain that will never feel that thing most people call "normal". Close enough.

Dear polytheists: How many of you are hard, how many of you are soft, and how many of you are medium?
See, I consider myself a medium polytheist. To me, gods and other deities have separate individual personalities, but still all connect to one massive incomprehensible source from which all gods are born.
(I once had a discussion about this with a monotheist who kept trying to call that source "
God" even though I tried to explain that in my mind, the monotheistic god is included in the billions of deities connected to that source. The universe is bigger than any god anywhere, anyway, and also prettier.)
Neil Gaiman made a good point in "American Gods" - that there are various incarnations of every god all over the world and throughout time and space.
So, in the book I've been writing, the specific incarnation of Gaia that the protagonists meet is also connected to modern incarnations of other goddesses from other pantheons. I'm wondering if I can fit quantum theory into all this.

I have this natural habit: whenever someone verbally attacks me, I just smile, nod, and say "Okay!" It drives them crazy. It is hard to fight calm. Apparently, it is one of my strengths. I just don't have the energy or time to argue.

"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!"
A fellow witch once quoted this at me, about me. I smiled and thanked him and felt quite happy. But even now, years later, I still don't believe in my real self...

I want to be this...

butterfly-into-blue-sky
brightrosefox: (Default)

This cosmetics stuff is for those who like to know these things (and also to distract myself from the storm horrors). Seriously, I've had friends specifically ask if I could post about my makeup. It's awesome.
 
My favorite full coverage concealers are:
ItCosmetics.com Bye Bye Concealer (my shade is Light)
Tarte Maracuja Creaseless Concealer (my shade is Light)
Kat Von D Tattoo Concealer (my shade is Light 18)
Almay Smart Shade Anti Aging Concealer (the red cap; my shade is Light)
CoverGirl Simply Ageless Concealer (my shade is Light 210)
LaurenBrookeConsmetiques.com Creme Concealer or Foundation (my respective shades are Warm Light and Warm 2)
CoryCosmetics.com Cream To Powder Concealers (my shade is Light Flesh) as well as Velvet Cream Foundation (my shade is Whipped Cream).

Now, all these concealers offer intense coverage to the point that they look almost like stage or film makeup, meaning that sometimes I wonder if my own face was Photoshopped to erase every single flaw and pore. I have found larger tubes of the It Cosmetics and Tarte on Ebay, which is worth the money. I would also like to add that MAC Studio Sculpt Foundation (I'm NC 15) and Urban Decay Naked Skin Foundation (I'm Shade 2.0) are also the most full coverage foundations I have ever used.
Every single product I've mentioned has skin caring, skin smoothing, and skin beneficial ingredients, with no petroleum or mineral oil. I hate using petroleum on my face because it caused problems (although if it's in a lipstick with lots of botanical oils and butters I don't mind, since lip flesh has no pores).

Now, my favorite lipcolors:
Revlon Lip Butter Lipstick in Red Velvet and Cherry Tart
Sally Hansen Moisture Twist Lipgloss in Cherry Twist and Berry Blend
It Cosmetics Vitality Lip Flush Lipstick in Pretty Woman and Love Story
Bare Escentuals BareMinerals Natural Lipstick in Red Zin, Italian Ice, and Passion Fruit
BareEscentuals Buxom Full Bodied Lipgloss in Va Va Voom, Hot Mama, and Hey Baby
Tarte Glamazon 12-Hour Lipstick in Wild
Tarte LipSurgence Lip Tint in Lust
Aveda Nourish and Uruku Lipstick in Cherrybud and Maracuja
BeingTrue Pure Lipstick in Temptress and Chanteuse
Studio Gear Lipstick in Super Star and Pink Quartz
The Body Shop Love Gloss Lipgloss in Raspberry

Most of these lipcolors are natural or at least have botanical oils and butters. The ones from Revlon and Studio Gear also have some petroleum, but I'm okay with that. I prefer lipcolors that help hydrate, plump, nourish, and smooth my lips. I'm not even going to list the dozens of lip balms I own.

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I feel so weird wearing opaque neutral pure pink lipstick. I'm so used to rich, dark, deep, neutral to warm reds with undertones of pink and rose and berry and brown. You know, like blood, or fake blood used in vampire films (I own shades called Fire Down Below, Shanghai Express, Flamenco, Stiletto Red, Super Star, Hot Mama, Va Va Voom, Italian Ice, Red Zin, Temptress, Chanteuse, Pretty Woman, Cherry Twist).
Well, daring is as daring does, right?
http://www.truelynatural.com/pure-color-solid-p-430.html (Duchess)
http://www.ebay.com/itm/Being-TRUE-Pure-Lip-Color-Lipstick-DUCHESS-Neutral-Pink-New-in-Box-/370637332788?pt=US_Makeup_Lips&hash=item564bb4e134
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It seems that the names of all my favorite lipcolors seem to fit me in some way:

Bare Minerals: Italian Ice, Passion Fruit, Red Zin, Courage
It Cosmetics: Pretty Woman, Love Story
Revlon: Red Velvet, Cherry Tart
Sally Hansen: Cherry Twist, Berry Blend
Nars: Shanghai Express, Flamenco, Fire Down Below
Too Faced: Stiletto Red, I Want Candy
Aveda: Cherrybud, Maracuja, Ginger Lily
Salma Hayek Nuance: Passion Pink, Paprika

(Also, that list is mostly to remind myself of what lip products I own and regularly use.)
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I am caught between that place of "Want to sleep" and "Cannot fall asleep" because of Pain Stuff and Not Pain Stuff. Who else is in that place? Want to have a quiet simple party until we fall over?

If Soma, Tramadol, Klonopin, Flexeril, Zoloft, and Trileptal were people, I would want to dance with them in all sorts of ways and then fall into a bed and snuggle in a pile like kittens or puppies.

Dear Body: You make me want to cry all the time. But I usually find things to laugh at, so then my crying turns to laughing often enough.

Oh, my sweet cats. Luna was hiding under the TV bureau because of the ferocious thunder and rain storm, so I was comforting her with Greenies treats and duck jerky. Rose and Jupiter got treats too, of course, and they are still climbing all over my couch for comfort.

"The cybernetic oracle. The ultimate man-machine hybrid. Programmed with every crime ever recorded and implanted with the brain cells of history's greatest detectives. We call him... Pickles."
"On account of it's like he's floating in a jar?"
"Exactly."
Dear Futurama: Please continue to make me laugh no matter what. I will even forgive you for the episode 'Attack Of The Killer App' if you continue to make me love you.

So, I stand corrected on the issue of whether or not "douchebag" should still be an insult, which was brought up recently by a group who wanted the word stripped from the list of insults.
Here's what a friend suggested:
"Actually, douches are useless at best, and harmful more often than not, ruining the natural environment by upsetting the PH. So I think they're the perfect insult."
I wanted to go with "walking colostomy bag" since it applies to all bodies.
Oh, and this: "FYI, enemas are also referred to as douches, so yes, they also service assholes."
I love these discussions.

"Wait, how can you be a D?? That must mean I'm like a J or something!" "That can't be real! You don't look that big! You're probably a B maybe a C at most. Are you sure you're a 32D??"
Thank you, everyone, for telling me what my bra size should and should not be.
*DOUBLE FACEPALM*
Cough. Sorry, but I get that a lot. You know, because my bra size actually fits me now. How dare I be a 32D at 4'10" when "taller women with D cup bras look so much bigger." Etc.

Oh, my mind is in a very interesting place. Mostly because it wants to get away from my pains and such, I guess.
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When I was six years old, my mother bought a beautiful antique doll with thick wavy red hair, deep blue eyes, and a penetrating stare. Mom and I sat at in our tiny Brooklyn, apartment at our big kitchen table, wondering what to name the doll. After several long minutes of pure silence, I looked my mother in the eye, smiled, and said, "Why don't we name her Mary Ann?" My mother turned white and stared at me with a mixed expression of awe, disbelief, and excitement. "Annie," she said quietly, using my nickname, "how did you come up with that name?" I shrugged and said in my squeaky child voice, "I don't know, it just came to me, like it floated in my head." My mother, the skeptic atheist skeptic, composed herself and said, "Because I was thinking that exact name just before you said it out loud." I smiled very widely and said, "Oh, then I read your mind, Mommy! Isn't that fun?"
Nearly a decade later, my mother said that in the 1960s and 1970s, during the height of the New Age movements of those eras, she wished for a daughter with ESP so they could communicate telepathically. Close enough?
Also, this is probably nothing but coincidence, but when I was fifteen, my mother started painting an adult woman with wavy red hair and felt that it might be me, so she began dying my wavy chestnut hair various shades of auburn and dark red until I went to college. Before I was born, she and my father had assumed I would inherit her deep gray-blue eyes. I did inherit the penetrating stare, though.
Anyway, Mary Ann still lives at my parents' house, now in the Hamptons, surrounded by other old dolls, one of which looks exactly like me as a child, who is of course named Annie.
My mother has occasionally admitted to sensing things outside reality, and my father has long been a known psychic, although they both suppressed those skills decades ago. There may be a reason I don't buy antique dolls when I go to thrift stores. It's the eyes. We know each other too well.

brightrosefox: (Default)
When I was six years old, my mother bought a beautiful antique doll with thick wavy red hair, deep blue eyes, and a penetrating stare. Mom and I sat at in our tiny Brooklyn, apartment at our big kitchen table, wondering what to name the doll. After several long minutes of pure silence, I looked my mother in the eye, smiled, and said, "Why don't we name her Mary Ann?" My mother turned white and stared at me with a mixed expression of awe, disbelief, and excitement. "Annie," she said quietly, using my nickname, "how did you come up with that name?" I shrugged and said in my squeaky child voice, "I don't know, it just came to me, like it floated in my head." My mother, the skeptic atheist skeptic, composed herself and said, "Because I was thinking that exact name just before you said it out loud." I smiled very widely and said, "Oh, then I read your mind, Mommy! Isn't that fun?"
Nearly a decade later, my mother said that in the 1960s and 1970s, during the height of the New Age movements of those eras, she wished for a daughter with ESP so they could communicate telepathically. Close enough?
Also, this is probably nothing but coincidence, but when I was fifteen, my mother started painting an adult woman with wavy red hair and felt that it might be me, so she began dying my wavy chestnut hair various shades of auburn and dark red until I went to college. Before I was born, she and my father had assumed I would inherit her deep gray-blue eyes. I did inherit the penetrating stare, though.
Anyway, Mary Ann still lives at my parents' house, now in the Hamptons, surrounded by other old dolls, one of which looks exactly like me as a child, who is of course named Annie.
My mother has occasionally admitted to sensing things outside reality, and my father has long been a known psychic, although they both suppressed those skills decades ago. There may be a reason I don't buy antique dolls when I go to thrift stores. It's the eyes. We know each other too well.

brightrosefox: (Default)
When I was six years old, my mother bought a beautiful antique doll with thick wavy red hair, deep blue eyes, and a penetrating stare. Mom and I sat at in our tiny Brooklyn, apartment at our big kitchen table, wondering what to name the doll. After several long minutes of pure silence, I looked my mother in the eye, smiled, and said, "Why don't we name her Mary Ann?" My mother turned white and stared at me with a mixed expression of awe, disbelief, and excitement. "Annie," she said quietly, using my nickname, "how did you come up with that name?" I shrugged and said in my squeaky child voice, "I don't know, it just came to me, like it floated in my head." My mother, the skeptic atheist skeptic, composed herself and said, "Because I was thinking that exact name just before you said it out loud." I smiled very widely and said, "Oh, then I read your mind, Mommy! Isn't that fun?"
Nearly a decade later, my mother said that in the 1960s and 1970s, during the height of the New Age movements of those eras, she wished for a daughter with ESP so they could communicate telepathically. Close enough?
Also, this is probably nothing but coincidence, but when I was fifteen, my mother started painting an adult woman with wavy red hair and felt that it might be me, so she began dying my wavy chestnut hair various shades of auburn and dark red until I went to college. Before I was born, she and my father had assumed I would inherit her deep gray-blue eyes. I did inherit the penetrating stare, though.
Anyway, Mary Ann still lives at my parents' house, now in the Hamptons, surrounded by other old dolls, one of which looks exactly like me as a child, who is of course named Annie.
My mother has occasionally admitted to sensing things outside reality, and my father has long been a known psychic, although they both suppressed those skills decades ago. There may be a reason I don't buy antique dolls when I go to thrift stores. It's the eyes. We know each other too well.

brightrosefox: (Default)
When I was six years old, my mother bought a beautiful antique doll with thick wavy red hair, deep blue eyes, and a penetrating stare. Mom and I sat at in our tiny Brooklyn, apartment at our big kitchen table, wondering what to name the doll. After several long minutes of pure silence, I looked my mother in the eye, smiled, and said, "Why don't we name her Mary Ann?" My mother turned white and stared at me with a mixed expression of awe, disbelief, and excitement. "Annie," she said quietly, using my nickname, "how did you come up with that name?" I shrugged and said in my squeaky child voice, "I don't know, it just came to me, like it floated in my head." My mother, the skeptic atheist skeptic, composed herself and said, "Because I was thinking that exact name just before you said it out loud." I smiled very widely and said, "Oh, then I read your mind, Mommy! Isn't that fun?"
Nearly a decade later, my mother said that in the 1960s and 1970s, during the height of the New Age movements of those eras, she wished for a daughter with ESP so they could communicate telepathically. Close enough?
Also, this is probably nothing but coincidence, but when I was fifteen, my mother started painting an adult woman with wavy red hair and felt that it might be me, so she began dying my wavy chestnut hair various shades of auburn and dark red until I went to college. Before I was born, she and my father had assumed I would inherit her deep gray-blue eyes. I did inherit the penetrating stare, though.
Anyway, Mary Ann still lives at my parents' house, now in the Hamptons, surrounded by other old dolls, one of which looks exactly like me as a child, who is of course named Annie.
My mother has occasionally admitted to sensing things outside reality, and my father has long been a known psychic, although they both suppressed those skills decades ago. There may be a reason I don't buy antique dolls when I go to thrift stores. It's the eyes. We know each other too well.

brightrosefox: (Default)
-My cluttered crazy closet is revealing Secrets. Like discontinued My Little Pony Toys from Generation 3 (2006, specifically). It's awesome

-The celebrity Jessica Simpson just gave birth to a girl named Maxwell Drew, which they say are family names. Gossip sites are exploding over Maxwell being a boys' name. I remain unfazed and bored, however I am very curious about how gender-specific and unisex names become so ingrained into various cultures.

-On Facebook, I seem to have accidentally formed a Disability Superhero Group. It probably won't go anywhere but it's a cute idea. My profile, in case I forget:

Name: Brain Fire Girl
Disabilities: Cerebral Palsy, Epilepsy, Fibromyalgia, Depression, Anxiety, Multiple Neurochemical Disorders, Various Nerve Pains, Various Joint Pains, Sensory Disorders, Respiratory Disorders, Hypersensitivity.
Superpowers: She is able to transfer pain and burning sensations to willfully ignorant and willfully stupid people; she particularly seeks out people who don't understand the idea of individualized medical treatments. She is also able to project empathy and sensitivity onto trolls who mock the disabled, although the effects can be negligible. She is also able to project dreams or hallucinations about the reality of having disabilities.

-FUTURAMA.

-Adam and I made cookies yesterday. We began to make the dough for basic chocolate chip cookies. Then Adam took a bag of dried goji berries, dumped a bunch of berries in the food processor, and ground them into powder. Now our cookies have a lovely reddish-orange color and a distinct goji flavor which mixes well with the cinnamon, vanilla, and chocolate. I am so spoiled for cookies, I swear.
brightrosefox: (Default)
-My cluttered crazy closet is revealing Secrets. Like discontinued My Little Pony Toys from Generation 3 (2006, specifically). It's awesome

-The celebrity Jessica Simpson just gave birth to a girl named Maxwell Drew, which they say are family names. Gossip sites are exploding over Maxwell being a boys' name. I remain unfazed and bored, however I am very curious about how gender-specific and unisex names become so ingrained into various cultures.

-On Facebook, I seem to have accidentally formed a Disability Superhero Group. It probably won't go anywhere but it's a cute idea. My profile, in case I forget:

Name: Brain Fire Girl
Disabilities: Cerebral Palsy, Epilepsy, Fibromyalgia, Depression, Anxiety, Multiple Neurochemical Disorders, Various Nerve Pains, Various Joint Pains, Sensory Disorders, Respiratory Disorders, Hypersensitivity.
Superpowers: She is able to transfer pain and burning sensations to willfully ignorant and willfully stupid people; she particularly seeks out people who don't understand the idea of individualized medical treatments. She is also able to project empathy and sensitivity onto trolls who mock the disabled, although the effects can be negligible. She is also able to project dreams or hallucinations about the reality of having disabilities.

-FUTURAMA.

-Adam and I made cookies yesterday. We began to make the dough for basic chocolate chip cookies. Then Adam took a bag of dried goji berries, dumped a bunch of berries in the food processor, and ground them into powder. Now our cookies have a lovely reddish-orange color and a distinct goji flavor which mixes well with the cinnamon, vanilla, and chocolate. I am so spoiled for cookies, I swear.

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brightrosefox: (Default)
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