Too Hot for FB

Hi, FB Fam…. we need to talk.
Without getting too technical… we need some space…
But here’s the technical of it, because I know you just said “Why???”
I’ve been journaling since I was about 10 years old. Writing poems. Putting down my personal thoughts. Writing out the going ons of my life since then has always been a freeing experience. Literally. It frees up space in my head for new thoughts to form or for old torturous thoughts to be expelled. It got harder to journal growing older because having all the thoughts in one place, in one notebook… and god forbid I left it somewhere when something amazing would happen. I might forget to write it down at all. LOL
Along came blogging.
I logged my first blog in 2000 via Blogger.com (i’ve since moved to WordPress) which was all the rage back then. And the freedom to blog from any computer at anytime… even from my phone… was intoxicating! I sometimes would blog 3 and 4 times a day. Just to put my thoughts down. I became a “Blogger”. Telling the universe my thoughts and recounting the wild tales of my then youth. I had followers for my blog of similar places in their lives and we exchanged commentary on our crazy stories. Then something crazy happened. I started to grow up. I got engaged. I got married. I lost my parents. I started planning a family. And through all of that, the expectations of what I “should” write, changed.
I found myself censoring and rewriting and blog editing and finding the process of blogging LESS cathartic than it had always been. I was editing out because of who was looking. So I started blogging less. And folks started following less and that was fine too because I wasn’t saying anything amazing or profound or even interesting.
Then came Facebook and it’s “Notes” functionality which I used primarily to post my crazy FB questionnaires “21 Truths” “Fill in the Answer” type quizzes and what not. And I discovered a functionality to pull my blog into the Notes section through RSS. (technical) But basically when I post to my regular blog at thoughtsdaughter, a mirror of it will appear in my Facebook Notes. I thought, this might be a way to start blogging again and more regularly. Killing 2 birds with one stone – writing in my life journal and keeping my friends updated on FB.
Although it’s had a great effect of reaching people I’d not spoken to in ages and brought them up to speed in life and garnered an amazing amount of support from people during my rough spots and trial times, there were the subtle murmurs from folks who felt I was “living too publicly” or wishing I’d choose my subjects “more carefully” or generally censor myself. MORE.
The fact of the matter is, despite what any preconceived notions of me are that are or might be floating around – I’m human. I’m my very own kind of human. I have really bad days where I don’t WANT to be positive. I have arguments with my husband and there are days I wish I was single. I have long stretches of time where I feel getting married was the very best thing I could have done in my life and the man I chose was exactly right. I have days where I feel that none of my dreams can come true and days where I’m invincible. I curse profoundly. I watch risque programming and find things very interesting (funny, mostly) and like to comment on it. I’m very much a Lady in the street and will be an excellent role model for my children one day. But sometimes I write about things that might color that Lady in a very Pleasantville kind of way. And that’s okay. I have to allow myself to be myself and be okay with who I am. And NOT censor. Or over edit. Or tailor the story of my life to the likings of others. I am no saint. And my marriage / relationship with Earl is no bastion of black love outside of the fact that we’ll always fight to stay together – not because we never have a hiccup or a problem and live in some flawless bubble.
I won’t take the RSS feed off of FB. That’s too harsh. However, I have created a category called TooHotforFB (*chuckle*) that will NOT be posted on the RSS. You’ll only be able to read it from my web page. But I think it’s a good compromise. A compromise for me to remain in touch with you. And better yet… to remain in touch with myself.
So, we’re not breaking up FB… We’re just giving each other the space we need to make sure we can stay together
You have the option of reading me uncensored at my blog… or stay and read here, as I’m not in the business of disillusionment. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss – who am I to shake that up?
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Throw some Ds On It
Yesterday I went on an unplanned excursion (aren’t those the best) with my bff Max to a store called La Petite Coquette (the little flirt as per their direct translation). It’s a famous lingerie store in the village that Max wanted to visit to get some new underthings. The store is small and crowded with customers and clothing and frilly tables and lots of drapery. It was bustling (no pun intended) with clientele on account of their Black Friday sale.
So we went in and were waited on by Rebecca herself – the owner of the store and the name on which all the stars signed their autographed portraits to. The likes of the SATC girls, Rosario Dawson, Martha Stewart and Brooke Shields. And I can see why. Rebecca LOVES what she does. She does it with efficiency, knowledge, a wonderful attitude and chipper witty commentary. She knows her bras and knows what looks best on a woman. I asked her if she could fit me, because the last time I got fitted was a dogs age ago. She said sure. I took my top off and asked me to burn the bra I currently was wearing. “It does NOTHING for you, honey” – What I already knew. So she sized me up visually and said… “What do you THINK you are?’ And I said – a 38 D last time I checked. She said… “Close. I think that you’re a Double… let’s see…” and proceeded to bring down from shelves gorgeous lace and lined bras ready for the fitting. I prompted – “I usually get lined bras because my nipples… well… they have a mind of their own.” To this she responded, “You’d be very popular in Europe.” “All well and good,” I said, “but when I’m in meetings trying to keep the attention of minds, it’s distracting.” She agreed and we went back to trying on pretty bras. The prettiest of them – a lace cup that held me perfectly, did not give me torpedoes, and looked great under a tight tee. Only 175 bucks. But one day – that’ll be a standard and I won’t bat an eye to it. She let me try on several bras w/o restriction even though I told her that I’d not be purchasing today. She was just as attentive, even though she was leaving for Europe in an hour (she was frustrated because her friend only gave her 1 day to get it together and they’re going to the spa – oh such challenges).
At the counter while Max was checking out I peeped these really cute black satin and pearl cat ‘o’ nine tail / riding crops. AH-DORE-ABLE. Not so cute for 119 bucks. I felt it up though… I can make my own. Getting in touch with my inner Domme lately. Eh. A discussion for another day. LOL. All in all a really good experience. And? I got some double Ds
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“Emergency” Surgery
So…

I finally went to see the fertility Doctor this past Monday. Admittedly, I’ve been avoiding going back for a second. I got used to the look of my arms sans needle pricks in them and I was enjoying not being drained of blood at any turn. But the babies must be made… so he reported back that Earl’s stuff was fine, which made him feel like he had an “S” on his chest. Then they said they’d take a look at me – via sonogram.
He laid me out on the table and this time let Earl have the birdseye view of what was going on. Usually Dr. K makes Earl stand so he and I are both looking at the same monitor. But this time he had Earl looking at the whole thing from his perspective. Showed us the ovaries which he said look perfect. Earl asked “Are those dark spots eggs?” and the Doctor was like “yep, those are eggs, the little black holes” And Earl proceeded to inform the eggs “You’re coming home with US soon! I see you!!” That made me chuckle. The doctor moved that thingy around in me to reposition for a different view and said he saw 1 submucosal myoma (fancy for fibroid) that he said “it’s no problem, we can remove vaginally” (he has a VERY thick Greek accent). So he asked me to get cleaned up and meet him back in the office. Asked me when my last period was – I told him it had just ended. He expressed it was important to go in and take care of it right away and this was the prime time in my cycle to perform the surgery. So he said “Wednesday?” And I said “… you mean… of THIS week?” He barked an emphatic “YES”. Well… if you’re that excited, I thought to myself… how can I say no. So we scheduled what he referred to as “emergency surgery” for Wednesday the 18th. He assured me it was an outpatient procedure and I’d be back to work the next day. Fine. Let’s get it over with.
Wednesday: Earl and I got into to pre-op at 8:30AM waited there till about 10:00 entertaining ourselves on our iTouches with the lovely free flowing Hospital WiFi they had coursing through the air. They came a few times to ask me a million questions I’d answered before about allergies and reactions to anesthesia, etc. Around 9:30 / 10:00 they came in and gave me 2 pills for post-op nausea and 1 antacid. And then we waited some more. We waited a LOT. We waited till 2:30PM when they finally called me in, laid me down, IV’d me up and I woke up 2 hours later in recovery. Feeling very wonky and out of sorts (not my typical reaction to anesthesia). My face was completely swollen and I definitely had some floating going on in my head… felt like my eyes were swimming in their sockets. I found out later that the swelling was due to the extra intravenous fluids to keep my blood pressure from tanking and since the operating table they had me on was tilted so my pelvis was raised, my head was lower than the rest of me… and thusly, the fluids rushed to my face. The nurse in recovery told me that I had a catheter in to help remove the water and that the doctor had given me a Lasix to help with the removal of the fluid from my system. Earl mentioned that the swelling had gone down in my face but my eyes were still puffy. And I went to touch them and they hurt. Hurt like… I’d been crying all day and rubbing the tears away with harsh tissues all night. That RAW feeling. AndI found out later that they had taped my eyes shut to protect from corneal abrasion but I suppose in ripping the tape off, they scarred my eyelids. It was definitely some new kind of anesthesia they gave me because I could taste it in the back of my throat every hour or so… just there and reminding me that I wasn’t 100%. At about 8:00 they told me that I was good enough to go home. So i slowly got out of the bed, assessed my situation, put my contacts back in and started to dress. Got home… showered, noted that the water burned my eyelids and my regular day and night face cream burned it even more. Had a couple of bottles of water and laid still in bed till I fell asleep.
Woke up the next day and my eyes were the size of golf balls. Put in a few calls to the Anesthesiologist who told me all of the above resulted in the swelling of my eyelids (the fluid, the taping). But to monitor it and let them know if it gets any worse (which it hasn’t swelled up again, but I have these really big scars on my eyelids NOT. CUTE.) It really took the full 24 hours to get the anesthesia out of my system. I could taste it in the back of my throat up to yesterday afternoon and the only strange thing about the operation itself is that I’m bleeding more today then I was immediately after the surgery. I haven’t spoken to the Dr. yet about it but suspect I’ll be talking to him today. He showed my husband pictures of the one fibroid that he removed which E described to look like small chicken cutlets before they’ve been cooked. *shrugs* I guess that’s what all muscle / body fiber looks like when you get right down to it. The doctor explained to Earl that this isn’t a new one that grew in… it was one that was “hiding” amidst the swelling and the presence of the 14 others that we were all focused on. But that should be the last one.
I haven’t been in any pain per se – a little short of breath when I’m walking, though. I hope to get more answers soon. Beyond all the minor discomforts, I’m excited to be fibroid free and hope that this clears the way for the baby making
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Nightlife

Today’s song was inspired by a hefty to-do list.
Things have changed at the job piece and as a result, my workload has doubled (almost tripled… but still a little less than tripled). To say that a sistah hasn’t had a chance to BREATHE lately would be an understatement. I’m moving at a much quicker pace lately and it’s intensely important for me to keep on top of things… crossing t’s and dotting i’s.
My latest dream was of me at work (those who know… already know how bad it is when I start to dream of my work place). But I was bustling about in a dimly lit verson of my current office and there had just been another huge let go of employees and rumored that there would be more, so all of management was skulking about trying not to reveal their master plans to the underlings whispering in corners and looking over their shoulders. All the while, I was just trying to keep track of stacks of papers on my desk that all threatened to topple over and lose their order. It was very much like watching a plate spinner do their thing… and this song was the soundtrack. This song is from my days of heavy drum & bass and downtempo music that helped me to focus when I coded webpages. So… again… appropo. (You have to listen past the 1:00 minute point to understand what I’m talking about; otherwise the point is lost on you). Also helps to listen to this with plenty of base. The song has so many beautiful layers.
Enjoy!



