Balls!

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My inner 12 year old enjoys the abundance of balls in the kitchen right now. My roomie’s mom likes to send him things like huge tins of almond rocha and boxes of Ferrero Rocher candy, the chocolate hazelnut balls wrapped in gold foil. This leads to lots of jokes about holding my roommate’s balls, eating his balls, enjoying them and so forth. (Hey now, note the disclaimer of inner immaturity above)

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A few nights ago I was making some sort of rice and leftover mystery bean soup/chili I found in the freezer thing. As I’m working my magic, I pop a chocolate ball in my mouth. Yum! Well, my roommate also usually keeps bags of meatballs in the freezer…… you can see where this is headed, right?

J: (Walks in, opens freezer) You know, you can add some of these if you want.
Me: Oh my god! What do you want me to do with these? I’ve already got one of your balls in my mouth right now!
J: (Snorts) Just put them in the toaster oven.
Me: ALL OF THEM?
J: Sure. That would be good.
Me: How long do you want them in for? The package says 30 minutes.
J: They’re already cooked.
Me: So you want me to try warming your balls for what, 20 minutes?
J: That sounds good.
Me: That’s what HE said!

Never gets old!

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Anyway, dinner was quite tasty mmmm. We enjoyed my roommate’s tasty balls!

It seems like balls were just everywhere this week. The next day, I had boba tea and sucked a lot of balls, gelatinous but firm, into my mouth.

Then this happened:

I was just minding my own business watching season Two of,  Sneaky Pete on Amazon, when the internet glitched for a moment.

The scene: Giovanni Ribisi stepping out of the shower and when surprised, he quickly covers his naughty bits. Then he removes his hands and….

Frozen, full frontal.

Um…..For a moment, I feel like a perv, but then I think of all the opportunities men have taken to freeze (in the old days) VHS tapes of Jamie Lee Curtis (and other actresses) nude in films and now just do screen grabs and somehow 10 seconds of staring at naked man junk attached to a nice bod (which may or may not actually be Giovanni Ribisi’s) doesn’t feel so gratuitous.

Um. Thanks Comcast, Amazon, Internet fairies…I guess?

Balls. Everything full circle.

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Thoughts on Loneliness

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I’m not lonely. I just feel lonely in this moment.

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Why are we humans so afraid of being alone?
Why do we perceive loneliness as an undesirable thing?
Why is the act of taking or being given a moment of solitude where our hands, eyes, mouth, mind and heart aren’t busy so disconcerting?
Why is an uncomfortable feeling automatically viewed as negative or detrimental by so many of us?

Loneliness in the moment is a good thing. A moment passes.
The loneliness reminds us of our desires, our needs.
It allows us to feel grateful for moments that are shared, moments that are full.
It guides us, gives us perspective.
Loneliness is contemplation.
Loneliness has been the fuel for periods of productivity, personal growth and great art.
When loneliness is shared through art, we all can identify with it because loneliness is a universally shared feeling. Experiencing loneliness is a big part of what it is to be human. It drives our desire to reach out.

Loneliness is what we choose make of it. We can embrace it and put it to good use or we can spiral down into it until we are lost!

I recently saw an article that conflated the correlation between loneliness and shorter life span to not having a love relationship and shorter lifespan. It completely missed how many people in relationships are heartbreakingly lonely. I am not involved in a  romantic relationship at the moment. Sure, there is part of me that would like to be, and oh do I miss sex which for me needs meaningful connection if I’m going to enjoy it, but the realities of the situation are that I do not get out much to meet people, online dating is an additional layer of hell for people my age.  I would rather hold out for someone who actually sees me for the amazing person I am with all my flaws and all of my glories and will treat me with respect and be able to feel the same about a partner than settle simply because I do not want to be alone. I have wasted a lot of time putting up with partners dumping abuse and baggage on me, I think it’s reasonable to prefer being single to doing that again.

But none of this means I am fully alone or that 24/7 loneliness is a given. Yes, I am lonely, but it is usually fleeting. There is so much that is not lonely about my life. My loneliness is not hollow, it is rich and present. I have learned to see it as a gift.

Disclaimer: This does not mean I have stopped hoping for a Scottish husband (or lady). You’ll have to pull this fantasy from my cold dead hands. *Those who know me are aware of my lifelong desire to visit and move to Scotland. There is also a running theory that the reason I have not found my true love is that they live in Scotland and I, alas am stuck here.

It wasn’t my fault…..line; oh yeah, it was!

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2018-01-27_12.54.32In which Captain Merphlepoof sleeps through an earthquake, Lorelei spends half this blog naked, there is some unnecessary meanness, but Nurse Practitioner’s Rule and so do Social Workers!

Sometimes insomnia is a blessing. On January fourth, 2018, while early-to-bedders were startled awake in the dark by the earth shaking their beds, I had all my lights on and was wide awake for the roll. My cat slept through it though. She is getting old after all. She used to be a very efficient early warning system. It wasn’t a huge quake, though it felt further up the scale than it actually was since this time it was close. It was also long and loud, I watched my furniture sway while my bed, my solid redwood bed, shook for about 20 seconds. If it hadn’t been deep, I suspect there would have been damage. The worst part for someone with C.P.T.S.D. is the sound. It was loud. It roared and grumbled. Inside the apartment, it sounded like things were breaking, but nothing was damaged. If it had been less of a roller and more of a throwing things up and down, that might have been different!

Because I was awake and had my lights on, I was impressed, but fairly unconcerned. I had exited the shower only about ten minutes earlier, another lucky break, and was sprawled on my bed naked. When the walls started to groan, I should have jumped up and thrown something on, but as the earth’s crust rolled to a stop, I sat still waiting to see if it was going to start up again. It felt like a pre-shock. I’ve been there before. And as I sat there in all my vulnerable glory, my Kindle started to ping as the flood of Facebook posts came in: Earthquake? Did you feel that? EARTHQUAKE!! That had to have been at least a 5! And soon the magnitude and location started being posted, and then the adjusted magnitude of 4.4.

26172839_10209870398387818_3866016165342914805_oTwenty minutes later, I was still au natural, one eye on Facebook, the other on my tall shelves, in case they started to sway again, ears perked for stony growls. It crossed my mind that perhaps a good aftershock was needed, at least to motivate me to put pajamas on. It would have served me right if I had had to run out in the hallway, but lucky for the neighbors, I didn’t. Merph was still sleeping soundly. Finally, she awoke and stretched with a chirp.

People were posting about their dogs freaking out. Merph yawns and says, “Meeeer Ma Meh” which translates to, “Pfft. Dogs. Such cowards! I do not bother to wake up for less than a 5.5. Pet me.” 

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I was still getting notifications about the earthquake an hour later. I’m still awake, because I would be anyway, but I now had an extra layer of anxiety.

The feed is homogeneous, except for one stray housing listing.

My feed looked like this:

“earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake earthquake” LOOK! This is very EXCITING! It’s a HOUSING POST at a rate I CAN AFFORD!

The earthquake was in Berkeley. Someone in Berkeley is NOT posting about the earthquake. WTF?  Oh, BUT WAIT! The WTF’s don’t stop there!
Continue reading

Slow Start To The New Year

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In this episode: Lorelei discovers she may have a new spirit animal, finds she is losing patience with white fragility, and laments her lack of appreciation for brawny Scotsmen; if they are real Scotsmen (they may be American models in kilts for all she knows)

I Can Haz New Spirit Animal?

26165565_10209877033073681_7194738149102289868_nHaving an invisible chronic illness really puts a damper on my otherwise exciting life. We’ve talked about that before, right? Although, I suppose it is exciting never to know exactly what you are up to on any given day, eh? It’s like a spinning wheel of fortune at a cardboard carnival. Will I reach my destination today? Oh look, I won three whole days in bed, all expenses NOT paid, but a bonus party in my cranium! Hooray! A couple of things I can generally count on though: Chronic Lateness and Low Energy.

Messaging with to my roommate who was encouraging me to do…..stuff:

Think of me as a sloth person. I have a huge, “to do” list, but it takes me a full day to climb down the tree just to drop my weekly poo.

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And I realized that I had just summed myself up perfectly.

Damn.

Best New Year’s Eve Ever!

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Prologue:

The year started off with a magnificent full moon, but I forgot to go outside and see it. It gave me an excuse to thank my friends for putting up with all my Moon jokes in 2017. On social media, and in conversation anytime someone mentions, the moon, regardless of context, I almost compulsively comment as if they are talking about me. My last name is, Moon, get it? My sense of humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is not nearly as groan worthy as my father’s was.  I blame my, inner 12 year old, my favorite, “get out of maturity” card.

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By the way, this gorgeous painting is by an artist named, Jana Ireijo. It’s only $450. If I had a wall to hang it on, I’d probably be batting my eyelashes and saying, “please” a lot, right now.

Part One: Not Exactly Flush With Festive Spirit, My Inner Virgo, Pulls Out My To Do List

I have to say, I wasn’t sorry to see 2017 go, but I wasn’t feeling particularly excited about 2018 either. My situation is still a challenge, my soul still feels like it is weighed down by a stack of pianos topped by a vengeful elephant who is not tickled by the ivories! The ugliness that crowns our country is still swirling through it the way that murky flood waters churn, hiding shit and disease, dangerous objects and death. I don’t see much improvement on the horizon without a proper shakeup. Yes, it could happen, but I’m just not excited.

I was so, not feeling anything, this time around that I couldn’t even dig up a smidge of envy at the revelers gushing of their plans to party and dance the night away. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t feel up to making myself shiny and putting on a festive face. For once, the idea of kissing someone at midnight didn’t even glimmer in my mind. My loneliness was barely a blip on my radar. I just wanted it to be tomorrow already, to mark off another day of gears grinding. Honestly, my apathy was liberating.

I didn’t have any work, but I have been caring for my roommate’s cat. He’s been traveling a lot lately. He was home briefly and left again without buying cat litter and I had already used up the last of LiLi’s litter, adding it to his cat, Ichi’s box.  Things were getting smelly. I had to buy cat litter for both of them now, and so I ended up at Safeway on New Year’s Eve with two plastic jugs of gritty clay in my cart, while everyone else was buying alcohol.  You know you have reached the climax of full blown Cat Lady Spinsterhood when you spend your New Year’s Eve at Safeway, buying cat litter for your roommate’s cat. At least I put on lipstick and combed my hair first and I wasn’t in my bathrobe. Go me!

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As if restocking the cat toilet on New Year’s Eve wasn’t awkward enough, I happened to step into line behind a former neighbor in the checkout. Continue reading

Insomnia Has My Life On Hold

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Here’s a window on what it’s like to live with my disabilities, particularly the sleep disorder aspect:

Other than managing to make it to Friendsgiving, I’ve had a bad four day weekend, healthwise. I’ve missed several fun outings that I actually didn’t even know about. I think I often miss notices and event invitations posted online because I spend too much time sleeping, trying to sleep or scrambling to get things done during waking hours when it’s acceptable to do things. I suspect also that sometimes people stop inviting me because they know I have trouble getting up on time and they don’t want me to feel bad because I often can’t afford to do what they are inviting me to do. Ironically, when I have steady social activities I get better at getting up. I’ve probably spent 75% of the past 100 hours in my bed. My back is a wreck. I was recently assisted with the funds to buy cushiony and supportive bed stuff and I can’t wait, because that will improve my sleep quality and make waking up less painful. Every little bit helps!

For now though, extreme insomnia rages, I’m too exhausted and too old to grit my teeth, caffeinate, stay up and push through after a sleepless night so I eventually nap and then don’t wake up because I’ve fallen into REM sleep. Once there, I have intense dreams that are very real and long. I have quests in my sleep. I solve problems. I have love affairs. I do interesting things. I meet strangers. I speak to demigods and ghosts. I do some of my best writing while unconscious. It’s almost like I’m doing all my living in my sleep.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of what other people would call nightmares, but they rarely upset me. My distress at being attacked by someone sinister or chased by lions or zombies is often Continue reading

Disneyland

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I wanna go to Disneyland. There I said it.

Tired, happy, poor, sometimes pitiful, me

One of the worst things about being poor and disabled is that it is very difficult, if not impossible to do things on your own to improve your situation. I am largely dependent on both, learning to do without and the generosity of others, to make things better.

It is specifically the combo of being poor and disabled that throws me into moments of bad attitude, fear and self pity. If I were wealthy, I would have access to things like targeted exercise classes that would give me strength and flexibility or treatments that would make the disability less disabling. I would be able to get out to social distractions, art, music, etc, more frequently despite my limitations. If I were only poor, I’d still be deprived of a lot of things, but I could do more things to improve my financial situation.  I could go on hikes, ride bicycles, exercise more, do things that don’t cost money that my body has great difficulty with now.

I am so lucky and grateful that I do have an abundance of friends that try to include me, help me financially and treat me to things. There are days when I wonder if it would be easier somehow if I were friendless and could be used to having absolutely nothing. It’s easier to be blind than aware in so many aspects of life. There are days when I wish I had never had a taste of what it was like to be able to get out and do things that cost money, to buy things, to be productive and useful. That sounds bleak, horrible and perhaps a bit nihilistic, but can you miss something you don’t know? I’m glad I have my friends and I’m glad to have experienced some of what life has to offer so I’ll take this option with lots of gratitude.

I have also realized that I am still having trouble psychologically wrapping my head around my dramatic change in circumstance. I’m still thinking of myself as a person who should be able to afford to collect things, make art, go places and can help other people out when they are struggling. However, Continue reading