Vampire Brain

Ever since I redundantly discovered gravity, I’ve been having weird things happen. From getting violently sick to throwing myself into the closet in my sleep. I’ve been tending to repeat stories. I’ve been tending to repeat stories (heehee). And the headache feels like a hangover that won’t go away. At least that is now a low-grade feeling now as long as I’m religious about the tylenol.

The most inconvenient of the side effects has been sleeping. I’ve discovered by trial and error that I need to stay as unstimulated as possible (within reason). Overstimulation makes my head hurt more, essentially wiping out my spoons.

I purposefully saved up my spoons to go visit with my Beastie Diane. I brought over gifts for her and her puppers. I also brought my laundry. I got the clothes in the washer, sat down on the couch to chat with Diane and engaged in lively conversation. I heard the washer sing after it was done. I put the clothes in the dryer.

I returned to my seat on the couch, popped up the feet and shared more conversation. She likes to watch true crime shows and comedies. Today was a marathon of murders. The victim was white. I blinked my eyes and the victim was black. I had fallen asleep for over an hour. She was able to take a shower, clean her bunny room, and take care of other chores she had.

Dudes, I was so embarrassed. It’s just not something I expected. I have been falling asleep more frequently and for longer periods, but I’d purposefully prepared. It wasn’t enough. She thought it was amusing so she didn’t wake me. I still snore though but she said it wasn’t as loud as it used to be. I guess that’s a plus.

I need to grant myself grace. I didn’t have a light head injury. I broke four bones in my face. My brain rattled around in my skull pretty good which is probably where the headaches are coming from. It’s hard to discover limitations that weren’t there before. It’s difficult to accept that this is not something I have control over.

Abiding is all I can do. Laugh at the ridiculousness of my life while loving myself. Forgive myself for my tendency to repeat stories. (Buwahahaha!)

May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved.

Reflections, on Travel Insurance

My apologies for leaving you in the lurch. It’s taken me a bit of time to get settled back into my real life.

I’ve been battling the insurance company that I bought my trip insurance from because they’re refusing to cover the repairs on my face even though I was injured on my trip. Turns out that the moment I set foot on American soil, my insurance was gone. I still need to have my nose set, my teeth fixed, and I’m uncertain about the break under my left eye. But, according to them, I’m on my own.

I thought I was being responsible. I thought I was making a good choice. I thought I was protecting myself in the event that something happened. I never expected to have to use it. I bought the policy after much deliberation, research, and conversations with fellow travelers. Be prepared and all that.

What they failed to mention is that if you’re injured on your trip, you have to get it taken care of right then and there. No waiting until you get home even if that’s what the doctor says because of the recovery time. You have to give up a part of your trip to get it taken care of when it happens. AND you pay out of pocket up front which they will reimburse you for afterwards. I haven’t tested that theory yet, but I’m going to guess by the way I’ve already been treated that it’s going to be a million hoops to jump through to get that back in my pocket.

I felt and feel betrayed, disgusted, and ripped off. I thought I’d be taken care of. I thought I was protected. I was but am not now.

Would I tell someone else to buy trip insurance? No I would not. It’s a pretty good scam. You’d be better off putting that money into savings in the event, Dude forgive, you need it. I would not do that again because the peace of mind I had is now a chunk out of my pocketbook. It’s not worth it.

In case you’re wondering, I bought the policy through AAA. Allianz Assistance USA is where the policy came from. They’ll gladly take your money but if you need follow up care, you’re on your own. I wouldn’t trust Allianz ever again. AAA even pled my case to them because my agent was astounded at their refusal. She didn’t get anywhere either.

May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved (but not by Allianz).

Day Nine Conclusion

This is an induction cooktop. In the United States I’ve either used a campstove, a gas stove, or an electric stove. I’d never seen anything like this. I gave up trying this morning with a vow to master it this evening having stored all the ready to go ingredients in the fridge.

The Oracle has spoken. I had no idea what I was doing until watching this informative video.
SUCCESS! I learned how to use an induction stove! I’m giving myself a gold star on my forehead for this accomplishment!
A portico.
Note: the handle looks like a pull, not a push.
This was by the bus stop I used today. The corners of the building are rounded which I thought was pretty cool.
These are pretty common to see in random places. I’ve noticed them primarily on roundabouts.
This is a bakery in Cairon. The displays are lovely, the people are kind, and the treats that can be found here are fantastic! I made my selection.
They packaged it in a very pretty little box. Even in my bag it didn’t damage the contents.
That is a lemon meringue tartlette. I was in heaven when I had it for dessert at dinner time.

Today was a good day. My client has made a dramatic improvement in three exercise sessions. We even took a walk down the rural road to see the white horse that lives there. We played ball together, counting to 100 in French and 30 in Spanish before he tired. His lifts from his chair were stronger and faster without as much support. He’s just plain wonderful and I love him in a familial way.

I think, in order to do what I do as a caregiver, I have to be willing to fall in love with my clients. Not romantically at all, but to see them as a human who is doing the best they can with what they have to work with. It allows me to grant grace, and even sometimes mercy, when things don’t work out like they want them to and they get frustrated.

I love my vocation. I love what I do. I love being love in a service type of way. It’s so deeply enriching to my life that I honestly don’t know what else I’d do that would create such a great degree of satisfaction.

I extend that into my daily life as well. It is good to be needed. It feels good to know I can help. It is empowering to know that something I do, say, or offer is putting more love out into the world. It’s easier now for me to accept that same love that’s given to me by so many beautiful souls. I sometimes can’t believe this is my life.

But, it is. I’m living the life I always dreamed about. I’m doing things I thought weren’t even possible. I’m learning (albeit with a shockingly painful curve) every day to do new things. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything!

Day nine note

The other day when I went to the grocery, I picked up some delicious things. My plan was to cook for myself, but I kept putting it off. This morning, I got ambitious.

I took out the spinach and put it in the colander and poured boiling water over it. I cut up potatoes into tiny little pieces. I chopped up an onion and put it in the pan with what was sure to be a gastronomic pleasure. I popped in some vegan butter, and tried to turn on the stove.

I was pushing buttons like it was a typewriter, and nothing happened. Nothing. I tried turning it off and turning it on again, but to no avail. I tried for a good 15 minutes to figure out how to work the stove, but no.

The stove was smarter than I and I ended up going to my favorite place for breakfast. They make better coffee than I do anyway.

Could Be Me

She spoke in the lyrics of poetry

wearing multiple silicone bracelets

in a rainbow of causes she bought

Her magenta locks growing back

from a meltdown done with hilarity

and Lorraine who strong has her back

Sometimes Maybe

Sometimes I want to be a kite

Ripped and tugged by wind’s whim

Rising above spectators

Admired for my brightly colored dips

That write nonsensical whispers

Of promises made to a forever not witnessed

Sometimes I wish I were a bear

Raw with raking power paws

With heavy duty claws that help me eat

People I don’t like or those who disturb me.

Sometimes I wish I were a siren

One that rests on rocks singing sweetly

Lulling sailors to their doom upon my rocks

Jutting breasts and flirty hair calling to boys

“Beware! Beware!”

Sometimes I’m glad to be me

A chubby tubby funny woman with dimple cheeks

Cracking open frozen hearts, not of ice

But stuck in places not so nice

Places that don’t remember their worth

Burying their beings without much mirth.

The House of Flushing

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The first fish in our story was named Five. Five died trying to live out of water because Claymore insisted, as a goldfish, he could do it. Five believed and leapt from the water. Goldie tried to stop him, but Five wanted to believe so badly, nothing Goldie said could dissuade the ambitions of the follower. Five flopped for a bit on the tank stand after his leap of faith. After a several minutes Five expired and began bloating.

This all took place in and around a small aquarium, in a small apartment in a large building in a big noisy city. The walls of the apartment, where the fish could see, were dingy gray except in the bathroom where the walls were a soothing green-gray. The toilet sparkled cleanly from where the sunlight streamed in from a small window that wasn’t visible from the tank.

The remaining fish in the aquarium were: Claymore, a beautiful maroon Betta fish, Goldie who shone like the sun, Flipper who had black fins, and Tipper who had a black tipped tail.

Claymore was an intelligently charismatic Betta fish. He loved to coax the unintelligent goldfish that lived with him in the aquarium to believe in silly things. His nemesis, Goldie, a voice of reason, couldn’t be convinced of the nonsense. Goldie never believed anything Claymore said because Claymore was always wrong.

When Five died, Claymore held a meeting.

“Tonight, when the human comes home, we’re going to watch as Five is carried away in holiness. He will be released into the water where he will become baptized as a new fish, then sent to a better place. Behold, the holy fountain filled with rejuvenating water!” Claymore gestured with his fin towards the porcelain stool visible in the bathroom. Hanging above the toilet was a beautiful wall hanging with a human woman wearing a blue robe and pointing to a rose encircled heart on her breast

“I can see it. I believe it. Oh, Claymore, you’re so smart. Will I be sent to the fountain when I become like Five?” inquired Flipper. “I do hope so.”

“Of course, Sister Flipper.” Replied Claymore with false wisdom. “If you follow me, I’ll make sure you get there. The Mother of the Holy Fountain will guide your way if you only believe.”

Tipper, the follower, decided that if Flipper was going to do it, so would he. He wasn’t very good at coming up with ideas of his own anyway. He depended on his friends to show him what was right. If he ever felt like he had an idea, he’d just talk to Claymore or Flipper and they’d set him straight.

But Tipper knew that if he went to Goldie, all that fish would tell him is, “Think for yourself. Don’t be a follower.” Goldie made it impossible to get anything accomplished.

That evening, their human returned to find Five bloated and quite ripe next to the aquarium. Claymore called Tipper and Flipper to the worship service.

“Just as I predicted, our human has discovered the failure of Five to survive his leap of faith.” Stated Claymore in a stage whisper which caused Goldie to burble angrily.

The female human set down her belongings with a frown on her face. She disappeared into one of the rooms that couldn’t be seen, returning with a pair of long slender tongs.

“See how the human won’t taint the body with her flippers? She is using tools…”
“What are tools?” inquired Tipper.

Without allowing the interruption, Claymore continued, “As she carefully lifts Five, watch as she transports him to the holy fountain. Pray with me.” He intoned as the human dropped Five’s body into the commode. “Dear Mother of the Holy Fountain, accept the body of our brother Five. Rejuvenate him into a whole and living flesh.”

The human pushed the holy fountain’s silver button, a whoosh of swirling sound, and Five’s body was carried down the tubes.

“And now, my dear brethren, we wait. In three days, a new living Five will return to us.”

If goldfish could blink, Tipper and Flipper would have been in rapturous prayer. As it was, Tipper blubbed a bit, imitating Flipper. The wait began.

During the period of waiting, Goldie spent a lot of time swimming around, thinking deep thoughts. Like Claymore, Goldie taught himself to read by observing anything the human set near the tank. He could even proudly recite his address, understood there was more than just the aquarium they lived in, and despised Claymore for toying with the others of his kind.

As predicted a new fish showed up on the third day, a fancy-tailed goldfish with white tipped fins and tail. Tipper and Flipper rushed to greet the new Five.

“My name isn’t Five. I’m Gardita,” flounced the newcomer. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because! You returned to us, just like Claymore told us you would, Five.”

“I told you. My name is Gardita, not Five.”

Gardita hid in the plastic plants near the bottom, avoiding contact with the two lunatics. She and Goldie watched as Flipper and Tipper followed Claymore around the aquarium as if he were a God. She watched as two of the others gave up extra shares of food. Claymore grew larger.

The two leaders of the aquarium approached the new fish at the same time.

“My name is Claymore, welcome to our place of holy pilgrimage.” Articulated the Betta-fish. Tipper and Flipper swayed behind him with pure faith seeping from their scales. “I apologize for the ardent fervor which my disciples are enraptured by, but they just saw you resurrect as the new Five.”

“Don’t pay attention to him. Welcome, Gardita.” Interrupted Goldie. “I’m the only sane one around here, it would seem.”

“Why do they keep calling me Five?” probed the pretty new fish. “No matter how many times I tell them.”

“That,” said Claymore as he slapped his flipper over Goldie’s mouth, “is because I showed the way to holiness to my swimming friends.”

Goldie bit Claymore’s fin.

“No, that’s because he lied to them. He told the last fish here, whose name WAS Five, that he could live outside the bowl. He convinced him to jump to his death.”

“No, I showed him the path to righteousness.” Countered Claymore.

“You killed him just because he believed you.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Disrupted Gardita while swimming between the fighting fish. “Claymore, you killed Five?”

Tipper and Flipper swam in front of the large Betta-fish. “Not at all. He showed Five how to become holy by taking a leap of faith.” Chorused the submissive fish. Claymore merely watched as his two faithful followers described the rousing tale of Five’s glorious death and subsequent resurrection into Gardita.

“But, I’m not Five. I’m Gardita. I was hatched in a giant store among many other fish. I was chosen because I was the prettiest one of all of them as you can tell,” the pretty fish fluttered every so prettily. “I am a girl, not a boy.”

“They can’t hear you. They believe anything that idiot tells them,” urged Goldie. “You’d be best to avoid them.”

“I think you’re right.” Agreed Gardita.

But her promise didn’t last long with Claymore constantly whispering in her ear. She fought valiantly against Tipper and Flipper reassuring her of Claymore’s holy message. Gardita couldn’t take it anymore. She committed to Claymore’s message. She became Five.

Five died trying to live out of water because Claymore insisted, as a goldfish, she could do it. Five believed and leapt from the water. Goldie tried to stop her, but Five wanted to believe so badly, nothing Goldie said could dissuade the ambitions of the follower.

Five flopped for a bit on the tank stand after her leap of faith. After a several minutes Five expired and began bloating. The cycle continued.

 

Moo-Vee Knight

WP_20150509_087

I wish I were Zuzu’s petals tucked neat within trouser pocket

Or I’d be the photo of Elise and Richard, kept within a locket

I’d sparkle ruby red like the Oz type pair of shoes

Or maybe be the spikey hair of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I could change my name to Wilson, wouldn’t that be a ball?

Perhaps be a still life in carbon, hanging around on the wall

Oh, to be the infamous sorting hat, four houses I will place

Or to be the heavens of Hollywood, every dream made by a face

What I wouldn’t do to see the world from un-animated eyes

to gain a differed perspective, be unlimited in my disguise

 

ETPCA Midsummer Festival Fundraiser showcasing variety of art and expressions

ETPCA Midsummer Festival Fundraiser showcasing variety of art and expressions.

Hey check out the link so you can catch me fidgeting all over the place, showcasing my art, and generally being me. (I didn’t get to speak, but I sure wanted to!)

All Three Together!

All The Bumpy Bits is a compilation of over a year’s worth of work. It includes art, essays, articles, poems and holds the entire body of work I wanted to put into it. Poetry Edition of All The Bumpy Bits includes ONLY the art and poems found in the complete book. Arts and Essays Edition of All The Bumpy Bits includes ONLY the art and essays found in the complete book. I’m listing them here to make it ease of use. 🙂

Hard Cover Versions:

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Kindle Versions

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