CSue--did you ever stop to consider that, given this man's chosen method of entertainment, he might have been compelled to shave himself. Why? Well, because if he'd had any hair down there his equipment would've been rendered both irrelevant and completely invisible! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> Kinda like losing your tools in the lawn. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> You KNOW they're there, but ya just can't see 'em for the grass. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

And you're right. It's hard to shave yourself like that. Please don't ask me how I know! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> Nicks are doggone uncomfortable, too, let me tell you. Neak just suggested that the gentleman's petite parts might have been the result of many nicks during many shavings so that (over time) his natural "massiveness" was simply carved away. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> To which I say, <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />! We often see women in labor and delivery whose religious obligation to cleanliness requires that their privates be shaven. (Unfortunately, this commitment to cleanliness does not generally also extend to the use of underarm deodorant. But I digress...) I asked one once who shaved her hair for her, and she said she did it herself with a mirror. And a razor, of course!

I don't ask everybody personal questions, but we DO spend hours together, doing some pretty intimate stuff, and under the right circumstances I'll ask questions that would never crop up in the supermarket checkout aisle. Like the one I asked the teenager about her clitoral piercing and ring...just as an example. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />I have an odd job, when you come right down to it. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Feel free to advise. She's this odd shade of green, which clashes horribly with her cape of power. Not only that, it's ALWAYS bad form to get puke spots on your cape!


That's just the acronym I chose to use on MB for My Own Lost True Love, because MS (My Soldier) seemed more palatable on an anti-infidelity site than MOLTL, and easier to type, too. Besides, to me MOLTL would've sounded too much like a chicken losing its feathers! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

Neak TOLD me the day it happened that MS got tears in his eyes. I wouldn't know. I was inside the house packing to come home and had no idea what drama was occurring just outside the door. Honestly, that girl never can wait for the natural unfolding of events!! Wonder where she gets it from? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> I'm sure I don't know.

t&l

It's kinda difficult to talk underwater, I hope you know, what with all those bubbles and stuff, but we're never gonna find any sharks if we keep playing around on the mountain tops, are we? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> I was told I should go on a break right after I drank a Dr. Pepper, so since sleep had been rendered out of the question, I've traded my naplet for a session at the computer.

Neak, I'm warning you--shape up, or I'm hiring somebody else to be my favorite eldest daughter!! You are spending entirely too much time lurking around the porcelain shrine, in case you should suddenly be called upon to perform an act of worship! I need that picture posted on this thread, and you are letting yourself get pathologically focused on your own physical needs instead of what's truly important, which is what I want you to do for me. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> Let go of the toilet, put your hands in the air, and step away from the bowl! If you do, nobody will get hurt. Maybe splattered, though, if their reflexes aren't quite quick enough! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

I read through this whole blasted thing earlier tonight, trying to refresh my memory of what I had already said. I hate duplication of efforts or unnecessary repetition. Interesting thread to read through, and I managed to get my knickers in a twist again seeing some of the posts one more time. However, the knotted panties were a temporary condition and everything is straightened out (IMHO) and I'm <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/cool.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/cool.gif" alt="" /> with it, so what better time to stir up a little more trouble for myself than when there's none of it happening all on its own? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/wink.gif" alt="" />

I am also going to be upfront here and tell you right off the bat that from here on out, a certain amount of censorship will be involved, but only because I have the right to tell just my own secrets. You can believe (or not) that I'm not leaving out anything that would significantly change the story, or keep something out that would make me look bad, or someone else look good. Also, I'll tell you right from the start that I'm not going to be passive about 2x4s directed at me during this phase. If somebody wants to object to what I'm doing NOW, that's one thing. To allow myself to be beaten up for things done years ago, which are impossible to change, would be insane. And I'm not. I have no objections to people asking questions, seeking clarification, whatever. I don't even care if somebody says, "Boy, you sure were dumb, weren't you?" Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. Let's admit it now and get it out of the way.

If Neak can quit being sick long enough to post the picture of her and her 3 younger squabblings, it would put them just shortly after the time where we're re-entering The Sad Saga of OtherSusan the Stupid. On HP's and my 7th anniversary, I had been pregnant exactly 3-1/2 years of the marriage. Only Neakbro was deliberately conceived. All the others were Little Oopsies, or, as we liked to call them, " SURPRISE!" I adored them individually and collectively, and so did their dad. Unfortunately, none of this translated into any better relationships between the 2 of us, and although I gave up on escaping the marriage through any of the previously-described methods, I still was enormously unhappy within the confines of my "cage."

In my heart of hearts, I cherished the secret, never-voiced hope that someday, somehow, MS and I could be reunited and I could have a baby born of lovemaking, and not just sexual activity during a fertile period (of which I seemed to have many!). I think it was somewhere around 5 years or so after we got married that a new employee came to the medical facility where I worked, and not only was she from the area to which MS had moved after we split, but she knew him, and where he could be reached by mail. (He worked at the post office, which made knowing the actual address unnecessary.) That Christmas, I sent him a Christmas letter, with a cute picture of the kids. It was the same letter, and picture, that I sent to everybody else on my list. I expressed no personal sentiment. I invited no response. In my own apparently-polite way, I meant to flip him off for rejecting me, and to show him that somebody had wanted me (several times, in fact! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />), and what adorable children I had. I never got the letter back, so the next year I sent another...and continued this practice in the years that followed. I knew I loved him, but I still just wanted to say <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />!Why not? I was mad at him, too.

When Neaksis was maybe a year old, or thereabouts, I was diagnosed with severe endometriosis, a condition which often (but obviously not always!) impairs fertility, and causes excessive bleeding each month, with a lot of pain, etc. No need to make a chart. Just accept that it was BAD. Back in those days, surgery was pretty much the only option, so at the comparatively-youthful age of 32 or 33, I had to go to the vet and get tutored! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />

A year or 2 earlier, we'd taken the cat to get fixed, and I asked the vet to save the uterus because the kids wanted to see what it looked like. As we drove out of the parking lot with the kitty in a box, and her uterus in a bottle, Neakbro piped up, "Mom, if you ever get spayed, could we see YOUR uterus, too?" I tried to save it for them to see, too, but was told that by the time the pathologist chopped it up into many pieces for examination there wouldn't be much left to look at. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

This hysterectomy was another lightbulb moment for me, but not a happy one. I had to recognize the absolute impossibility that my secret fantasy of having MS's baby could ever, under any circumstance, come true. From there, it was a short trip to the realization that I was going to grow old and die, and a LOT of things I had planned on, or hoped for, would never come true, either. At the tender age of 32, I was forced to face my own mortality, which I did... with <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />, and <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />, and enormous depression. (No emoticon for "depressed" on this site, apparently. Too bad--it would've come in handy!)

For a whole year following the surgery which removed both uterus and ovaries, I was as depressed as I have ever been in my life, either before or since. As far as I was concerned, my life was over. One of the things which brought me out of it was a patient I cared for in the last 6 months of that year. She was about my age, and had had a hysterectomy for the same reason--endometriosis. Forgive me, but we're going to digress briefly for a little discussion of the condition, since it will help explain what happened to her, and why caring for her, and understanding her case, helped me. Endometrial tissue is what lines the uterus each month, and is shed during a period. This stuff can, if you're unfortunate, proliferate, and spread to parts of the body where you'd never expect to find it. A woman with endometrial tissue in her lungs coughed up blood every month during her period, when the stuff in her chest bled just like the stuff in her uterus. Personally, I think I had some in the backs of my legs right behind my knees, since I had intensely-painful cramps every month, never in between periods, and they quit once my innards were re-adjusted. When my surgery was performed, they found that 90% of the tissue of each ovary had been replaced with endometrial tissue (didn't do too shabby with that 10%, though, did I?), and that the endometrium had begun to invade the actual muscle tissue of the uterus. However, in my case, it was all still contained within the reproductive system. But the endometrial tissue of the lady for whom I cared had escaped her uterus and invaded her abdomen. It was attached in numerous places to her intestines, and when they did the surgery, they tried to remove it, and she hemorrhaged so badly they ended up using about 50 units of blood, and I can't even remember how many IVs, just to get her through the surgery. So the surgical procedure itself was bad enough. But her MD wasn't a very good hand-washer. His surgeries had a high infection rate, and she, unfortunately, was one of them. She ended up with a wound infection, then a recto-vaginal fistula (an unhealed opening between the vagina and rectum which allowed stool to leak out of her vagina), and eventually a colostomy had to be performed in order to allow the lower bowel to heal. She was in and out of the hospital for at least 6 months, and was still not well when I got another job and moved somewhere else. Taking care of her made me realize with crystal clarity that it could've been a lot worse for me than what I'd been moping about for so long, and I willed myself out of my depression, my mourning, and my whiny attitude.

And once I was over that, I also came to the conclusion I was over MS as well, and was to remain in that happily ignorant state of denial for at least another 15 years.

Well, I've got to get back to work soon and want to preview this thing before I post it. It's the legacy of my English teacher parents. I just HAVE to check it first. And even then sometimes I miss stuff! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I am feeling very sick today. BP is back up. I've got the headache again, Neak's queasy stomach (I hope that means SHE's feeling good!), and tremors and heaviness in my right hand. I had to call in for my per diem job, which means no $$$ tonight. Don't "they" understand that not earning money just adds to my stress?!!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> On the plus side, this afternoonI was finally able to get an appt. with an internist for tomorrow morning. The downside is wondering if he can work me in that quickly, is he any good, or is the reason he has room on his schedule because nobody comes to see him? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" />

I found this little 2-line poem awhile back, and really liked it. I think there are a lot of brave people on this site, including the ones who don't think they're brave at all. This is for you.

Courage is not the towering oak
that sees storms come and go;
It is the fragile, tender blossom
that opens in the snow.

t&l

Sorry you're feeling so bad.

You really a few days off. Some things do need time, and there is no hurrying them <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

1st Neak....

Are you sick all day? My thoughts are nothing you_neak, but here they are.

In the morning before I even move my head; placed carefully the night before is a bottle of carbonated water, and saltine crackers. I became very good at eating and drinking as soon as I became conscious in the morning BEFORE I so much as moved my head. Then I let things settle and I would proceed to move very cautiously.

Then throughout the day....I never let myself have an empty stomach - I was eating constantly - but small amounts. We won't discuss how much weight I gained during pregnancy either!

Hope you're better.

t&l,

I'll go back when I have a chance and see if you asked me any questions after my last post....I have just a minute to respond - not much time for reading.

Glad you've put your toe back in the pool.....a question for you... were you an idealist growing up, did you buy the fantasy I and others did which is that "prince charming" is really out there, and waiting to find us?

Hope you take extra care of yourself since your BP is back up.

Thanks, CSue, that might be what I need. Yes, I am sick all day until usually about 6-7 pm. Then I tend to feel better for a few hours. Maybe I do just need to go with smaller, much more frequent meals, instead of 2 bigger ones. That, and quit waiting till I feel like eating to eat. I'll let you know how it works. I do feel better than yesterday, though. I really think I had the flu on top of this.

Now Mom, I know this is not what you want to hear on a HBP day, but I didn't quite feel good enough to make it to town. I will go tomorrow for sure, and have posted the PICTURE OF THE 4 OF US for you. Now make like Paul Harvey and tell the rest of the story! Hope you feel better.

Neak....I like you never felt like eating so I did "train" to eat basically all the time - it made a big difference - big meals were a real NoNoNoNoNo...

Edited to add - What a precious picture that is! The girls look like angels! The boys sure look onery however!!!

t&l, how ever did you manage 4 so close together in age???

They weren't ornery! Do they really look like it? They were just pathologically inventive and inquisitive, bright, funny, energetic...and the 4 of them sure kept me on my toes. Between my misbegotten childhood and the activities of my own kids, the grandkids don't stand a chance of getting away with anything! It bugs them a lot, too.




Excitable ovaries.

t&l

Don't worry about it. I'm not up to chewing anybody out today anyway. And since I'm off tonight, maybe I could take it myself tomorrow, if you still don't feel good.


It's bee-you-tea-full. Thank you. I looked at it and cried and cried. You were all so cute and sweet, and I didn't have clue what I was getting you all into by bringing you into the world. Had no idea of the sorrows and griefs your lives would bring you, nor the struggles and burdens you'd have to bear. Sigh <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/frown.gif" alt="" /> I seem to be weepy today anyway, and cried once on the phone to one job, and then again on the phone to another...and you know how common that kind of public behavior is for me! But my headache is almost gone now, so my BP must be better. My stomach seems to have settled and all that's left are the tremors in my hands. I'm as good as cured! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" /> Maybe what did it was the second dose of blood pressure medicine with which I treated myself when I couldn't get ahold of any doctor to give me advice. Did I ever mention I'm a very bad patient? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> Consider it mentioned.

t&l

You'd better stop that, or I'll start feeling guilty for bringing 4 (gasp!!!! it still takes my breath away <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />) of my own into this yucky old world.

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Excuse me. I was momentarily overcome by mirth.

Yes. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

t&l

A Kool-aid drinking, Heaven's Gate Hale/Bopp comet, true believer, that's what I was. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

When Neak was a little girl, the woman who had taught me piano, when I was a little girl in Hawaii, moved to our town in the mountains of CA, and she taught Neak and her younger quibblings piano also. She scolded me once for infusing my daughters with my "cynicism about men," and predicted that Neak would be so damaged by this that she'd never be able to fall in love and get married and have a family of her own when she grew up. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> Well, all I can say is, as a prophet she was a phenomenal pianist! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

This is something that perhaps ought to have come directly from Mom, because it may sound a bit derogatory, but hey, we all already knew she was excessively gullible when she was younger. She always told us she got her idea of the married 'reality' from reading The Harvester, by Gene Stratton-Porter. Wowzers, what she must have thought of Dad after that! Even the most perfect man on the planet would have had a hard time living up to the smarmy, adoring hero. Poor, poor Dad. Poor, poor Mom as the true reality began to sink in. Poor, poor Gene Stratton-Porter had Mom ever caught up with her to tell her what she thought of her skewed portrayal of Noble Manhood.

Let's not be too hard on the poor Harvester. Would it shock you to know, Neak, that I still believe a man CAN be like the person portrayed in that book? That men are capable of being as faithful, attentive, kind, loving, and determined as he was, but without the sappy plot? What I don't believe is that I personally am going to EVER have a man like that. Nor would I actually want one at this stage in my life, who was all involved with me in such a fashion. I'm a very busy girl, you know, and he'd just be in the way with all that hovering stuff. I do believe that men with those characteristics exist. Somewhere else. Far, fa-a-a-a-a-ar away. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Having said that, I freely confess that reading The Harvester (many times <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />) was a poor preparation for marriage, even more so than having your Japanese aunties take care of me when I was a girl by doing all the the cooking and cleaning while I read a book. Put them together, and I was set up to be as surprised by marriage as if I'd been sent to another planet, not realizing that when I got there, everyone would be a different species, and speak a language I'd never heard before. Back then I didn't speak "Guy," you know. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />

Think of it as a wrestling match: The Harvester vs. The Great Clam! The ticket was pretty expensive, but the fight itself was no contest. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

t&l,

I'll have to go find that book and have a nice laugh.

The other thing going against you t&l is that you were an only child too right? I think only children girls in particular really have time to develop their fantasies - there are no siblings to smack you around with reality.

Once again I say you remind me of my friend....she was an only child too - and I kid you not...her parents raised her like a "Princess". When she stepped out into the real world she was soooo unprepared. I didn't meet her until years later, by then she was already joking about the irony of it all...we laughed about how she was stillllll trying to convince people that she was truly "THE Fairy Princess" and should be treated accordingly!!! We REALLY laughed about this.

The Harvester huh!

My point of the question is that is sounds like by the time you hit about 32, when you had your surgery and 4 children - reality had come home to roost for good. That takes some getting used to for sure.

I actually feel sorry for my 1st husband when I reached the point where I realized I had bought the fantasy hook, line, sinker and more. Especially as I looked around and thought everyone else DID live the fantasy. Everyone else made it look so easy. But what I know now is that they all struggle too - it's the facade we all put up that perpetuates the fantasy.

Glad you didn't raise your girls that was t&l...that was going to be my next question!!! BRAVO!!!!!

In defense of my parents, let me say that they never intended to bring up a pampered child. Even back then, even among the missionaries, there were people who worked lots harder than others. Lots of them were very excited about being in Hawaii, with all its opportunities for entertaiment and fun. My parents were salt-of-the-earth, plow-horse mid-Westerners, and their ability and willingness to work for the mission got them a lot of extra jobs which they did while the other missionaries and their families were at the beach! I personally didn't get to go to the beach a lot, a source of much childhood resentment. Instead, I did a lot of self-entertainment (the Honolulu library was a magical, wonderful place, and the bus picked me up outside the school where we lived on-campus and delivered me back again) just because my parents were so busy "laboring in the vineyard of the Lord." It wasn't till about 10 yrs. ago or so that I realized that my hyperactive imagination came from my dad. He's still got it, too. I gave mine up during that same time frame...but until then it certainly provided me with some interesting ideas about life.


One of the ladies at church, not too long ago, stopped coming for awhile because she felt nobody else understood her life because she was the only one having troubles. I just had to laugh, because everybody in that little church was just being inundated with troubles, some of us barely keeping our noses above the water...but we dressed up in our church clothes on Sabbath morning, came to church and sang and smiled and listened and participated, and none of our troubles showed on the outside. (Except for the Dr.'s wife. She often got openly teary when something touched her and reminded her of her worries about their son in another country.) Even people whose lives might seem enviable because they are famous, rich, beautiful (well, maybe not-so-beautiful if you look in the latest Enquirer and see some of the stars without their warpaint. Wowzer!), still get hurt, cheated on (that's a favorite), etc., etc. Facades can be a good thing. I already said that back a ways, didn't I? But I think we're often fooled by them into believing that other people "have it all together," when in reality most of us just struggle through each day as it comes. There was a song Andy Williams sang back in those days, and after MS was lost to me I loved to listen to it over and over. I still like it, because it's pretty and all, but it crystalizes the unrealistic expectations for my future in them thar olden days. Unfortunately, I don't remember all the words today and I'm not sure where my tape is, but I can remember enough of it to give you its philosophical flavor...

If I could only go back again
To the places where I have been;
Feeling love as we knew then--
If I could only go back..
If I could only go back.

To live in your arms again,
To love as we did then;
To run free as the wind--forever.
O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-h.

Ooooh is right. I had this wonderful visual image of the future, a glorious metaphorical fantasy, in which MS and I frolicked under an intensely blue sky strewn with fluffy white clouds, hand in hand laughingly gallivanting through fields of wild flowers and tulips. I'm not sure who I thought was going to be taking care of kids and fixing meals. Probably the Japanese aunties! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Let's just say, as I plod to work day after day, that my fantasies have changed...a better mattress, more time off, somebody finishing my roof, a clean house, you get the idea!

t&l

Actually, I hate to admit it, but full reality was still 25 years away <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />, but that's in the story that's coming. A giant bite of fantasy had been taken out of me, however, and it was certainly a good first step. I don't have time to deal with it before I leave for work and still edit some on Neak's book. We'll see what it's like at work tonight.

t&l

An Idiotville reprint, since I don't have time to retype the pertinent parts. Quote:
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T&L was going to post a small segment of not-yet-out book #2 pretty soon here. It was something she really liked,


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No, t&l was going to send it to YOU to post. I don't know how to do all that high tech stuff, and besides, you're the head of I.T. anyway. I will do it this morning when I get home from work, before I go to sleep. So if it's not done today, you'll know who to blame!

Just to set the stage, this segment of the book is a behind-the-scenes view of the death of the young son of the widow of Nain. The Bible speaks of him as the first person Jesus resurrected while here on earth. And I mean REALLY behind-the-scenes, too, as in Satan and his angels, as well as the heavenly Guardians. Oded is the dying boy's uncle. He and the two unidentified women are all major figures in Neak's first book, Malchus--Touched by Jesus. One of the women is Malchus' wife, a secret supporter of Jesus. The other woman is her servant and friend. Neak's first book looks at Jesus' life through the eyes of His enemies, featuring Malchus. The second looks at Jesus' life through the eyes of His friends, featuring Simon Peter. I edited this segment yesterday and really enjoyed it (again!). It has humor, drama, and some interesting insights expressed in a very you_neak fashion. Rather than get my hand smacked for inappropriate use of the site, I'll just say if any of you actually want to read the book that's already written and out, and by doing that help Neak get that humungous $1.05 per book royalty (!) we do have some that we can sell and you may ask about it by writing to [email]sportkanga@yahoo.com.[/email] That's me. You don't want to write to Neak. You might get a pkg. with unpleasant spots on it it you do.



Quote:
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Puky Princess is back


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I still think I like your previous name for her better. The Roil Princess. I forgot to tell you I thought that was pretty clever. And icky.

After that description, why don't you invite everybody over for dinner?! Veggie "meat" to eat. No drinks. A green hostess. And some background music of vomiting children, stomach gurglings, and European (and a'pukin) entertainers (from Belchum), of course. How could anyone resist an invite like that?!

t&l

A lot of the details of those 25 years are mercifully lost in my bad memory. If Neak and/or Neaksis think there's something that must be included that I leave out, they may feel free to do what they have to do. I remember it basically as an interminable time of low-level hostility interspersed with generally-brief outbreaks of high-level hostility. It was a time in which my wretched children went and grew up on me, instead of staying cute and little and WITH me forever. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> However, these were not the events that provided the great (as in "significant," not as in "wonderful") insights I needed to finish growing up.

During these years I continued what I'd started back when I was about 27. Every year I sent MS, like everybody else I wrote to, a Christmas card and a picture of the kiddies. There was a period of several years when the kids each had to write a Christmas poem (so I didn't have to write a letter, but still had something to send! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/cool.gif" alt="" />) before they could get their presents. Neakbro almost missed the gift opening one year and didn't cooperate until the last 45 min. before we sat down by the tree. Neak, shall we put some of those poems in the thread? Like Flard's Christmas poem about dead animals? Or Neaksis' one where she said her daddy wasn't like Donald Trump--her daddy liked to forage for things "at the dump"? We should do Neaksis' poem while she's on the road from AZ and can't object to her juvenile scribblings getting such wide exposure. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

For about 10 yrs. I just mailed a seasonal note out to him, without comment, and without response (which I didn't expect and didn't actually want--after all, I was OVER him, wasn't I?). Imagine my shock the year I was 37 when I got a Christmas card back--generic, bland--saying only that he'd enjoyed the cards and poems over the years, and commenting on what nice kids they seemed to be. If I'm not mistaken, I got a Christmas card the next couple of years, too, and then on my 40th birthday I had a birthday bouquet delivered to our house, and a card with very proper best wishes for me on my birthday. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> THAT was fun to explain to HP. Just because HE never buys me anything for holidays doesn't mean he expected someone else to remember it anyway.

I think I'm going to quit here, because I'm typing at work and I don't want to have to quit in the middle of the next segment if a pt. should suddenly arrive and require my magic fingers to cease typing and tend to her instead! Women in labor are SO self-centered that way, and expect their creature comforts to be given priority over very important MB communications in process! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

t&l