i,sosceles

The Meriam Webster Dictionary defines the term “social disease” as the following:

Main Entry:  social disease

Function: noun

Date: 1891

1: venereal disease.

I’d like to respectfully submit a second meaning:

2:any disease or condition that significantly impacts ones social life, friendships, relationships, and general interaction with society…

I was recently diagnosed with CFIDS or Chronic Fatigue Immune Deficiency Syndrome.  I have seen doctor after doctor after doctor.  I take medication for anxiety disorder and an inability to manufacture enough GABA (the stuff your brain makes that allows you to physically relax) and have for more than ten years.  These are realities I’ve come to deal with and are, for me, not terribly debilitating.  Sure, I don’t sleep well, but I’m I don’t have agoraphobia or claustrophobia or any other phobia that keeps me from fully enjoying my life- having several large circles of friends, enjoying the blessing of living in NYC and all that it brings, traveling the world over for business and pleasure, finding absolute nirvana being a stranger in a strange land.

I have been sick and tired over the years, suffering bouts of exhaustion and increased pain that left me cranky, sleepless and with an intense desire to hibernate.  Some attributed this to a latent depression or the aftermath of being hit by a van whilst crossing the street almost 20 years ago.  The accident did a good bit of damage to my body, the effects of which are felt more intensely and impact my life more acutely at times.  Spoken or not, most people assume the former, not having been in my life for the accident and all that followed. 

By people, I mean my friends and acquaintances.

I’m not going to lie.  I found this to be frustrating.  I have seen internists, orthopedists, physiatrists, therapists (physical and emotional), psychiatrists, neurologists, accupuncturists, every kind of “-ist” one can think of.  I’m very proactive about my health.  I don’t despair.  I have rare moments of sadness over the some of the tougher aspects of my childhood/ young adulthood.  I always pull through and I’m always OK. 

The last six months, however, have been out of control.  I was out of work for months, for what I thought was some crazy-mutant evil sinus infection.  I’ve had surgery, taken steroids, exhausted supplies of anti-biotics, changed my diet, everything.  I just couldn’t get better.  And I didn’t know what to do.  Staying home all the time because I was too tired or dizzy or fuzzy to go out didn’t leave me with much to talk about other than what was wrong with me.   Naturally, this affected my relationships with people.  I mean, how many times can a person listen to someone complain about the awful smell or electric mucus or fatigue or headaches, or whatever.  It’s a drag. 

You see, just because you’re anxious or tired doesn’t mean you’re depressed.  And even if one IS depressed, it doesn’t mean you’re not physically ill.  My affect has always been positive, regardless of my circumstances, and I’ve yet to meet any one of the “ists” that felt differently.

On the emotional side, the several therapists I’ve seen have all remarked that I am in remarkably good shape considering my history and physical state.  On the physical side, the “ists” have assured that I’m not a hypochondriac and my physical symptoms are real, though no one had ever given a diagnosis or options for alleviating my issues.

The one thing they pretty much all agreed on is that I’m in remarkably good shape all things considered.

So, when my new doc, whom I will love until my dying day, gave me the news, I thought “OK, good.  Now I know what’s going on.  Design plan of attack.”

The plan of attack went as follows:

• recall the episode of the Golden Girls where Dorothy gets Epstein-Barr but no one knows and the doctor is a jerk to her and tells her she’s old and bored and needs a hobby and then she sees him after her diagnosis and ‘gives him a piece of her mind’ in that same tacky Miami restaurant where all dinner scenes are shot while wearing some god-awful shiny-in-some-way tunic (Dorothy, not me); 
• remember to dvr above mentioned program in hopes of finding said episode or the one where George Clooney is a cop using Blanche’s house for a stake out;
• scour the web for information on this stupidly named, nebulous disease;
• read all the information contained in said websites, focusing on the more reputable sources, notably the Mayo Clinic’s excellent page;
• send email to closest friends with the news and a link to the Mayo Clinic (so one doesn’t have to explain the same thing over and again);
• find a local support group;
• get a hobby (highly advised by experts)- I chose knitting and genealogy, both things that can be done from sitting or lying positions, and not interrupt intense Law & Order viewing schedule;
• get a new air conditioner for my room since I’ll be spending a lot more time in there;
• try and relax.

You see the rules of CFIDS are pretty simple, like Fight Club:

1. rest.
2. rest.
3. don’t get stressed out.
4. rest.
5. figure out what works for you because no one knows what causes it or how to cure it so you have to make up your own fighting style…

pretty simple.  also: pretty boring.

You see, everyone has an energy budget- different for everyone, and variable depending on how acutely one’s being affected at any given time.  My particular ration seems to be 8 or so hours of recreation = 3 days in bed and/or some sort of infection.

Needless to say, this has a wee bit of an impact on ones social life.  I didn’t respect the limits of my personal budget, or more specifically, wasn’t aware of them when I went to my best friend’s wedding.  Three days in Newport = a week in bed and a trip to the ER.

Fourth of July party at a friend’s house = cabs to and fro (wasting energy on the subway is not worth it these days), a nap during the party, followed by five days of rest.  Owing to the fact that I walked to the Apple store for new headphones post-doctor’s appointment on Monday, two days later, my stay in bed was extended.

What I’m getting at is this: this condition or syndrome or disease or whatever is a serious pain in the ass.  Captain Obvious, I know.  The thing I personally feel is the hardest is the isolation.  I can’t really just pop over to the beer garden to watch the Euro Cup finals with everyone else.  Or head out to see a free Hancock screening on a Wednesday night with my buddies.  Or head to down to a friend’s house for the weekend by the pool, even. 

For someone who gone to Santiago or Dublin for the weekend on a couple of days notice for no reason whatever, this is pretty rough.  I want to get the french out of Dodge, but it’s not an option.  I’m still having a problem computing this.  I’m booked on a flight from JFK to Cairo Sep 30, 2008.  My doctor is as determined as I am that I make that flight.  Keep your fingers crossed for me, kids, I need it.

(Sorry this post sort of ended abruptly.  I lost steam.  Part and parcel of the whole deal.  More later on my particular doc’s plans for me with CFIDS for those who are interested.  She’s the shit.)

just a little shout out for espn360.com.

with all the storms and freaky weather, cable here in NYC has been spotty at best- pixelated, intermittent, especially on HD channels.

they had the spain- italy quarter final streaming online for free.

thank you sports gods for saving me from missing even a second of the game.

oh, and vaya espana!!! ole ole ole ole… ole… ole…

Sunny d came to spend the evening with me, which is always a pleasant treat.  Not just because she’s one of the nicest, most amazing people on earth, but also because there has never been a better TV partner, nor, I suspect, will there be.  Ever.

One of our most favoritest things to watch and discuss is LOST, which is not easy from across state lines.  So, when I see her, we catch up on all of our outstanding theories, questions, issues, discussions, etc.  We had many, many after last weeks season finale, but we returned to one item that has been nagging at me for weeks.

John Locke was born to a red-headed 16 year old girl named Emily (by a man “twice her age”) in 1956.  Because of her age and her mother’s strictness, John’s placed in foster care.

Ben Linus is born prematurely while his parents are hiking in the woods outside Portland.  It’s the early sixties, she’s in her early to mid-twenties, with red and was named… Emily.  She died giving birth to Ben on the side of the highway.

I find that to be a little too much of a coincidence.  Perhaps the reason Richard doesn’t take over leadership when Ben is banished is because he’s not part of the family.  We have no evidence that Swoosie Kurtz (adult Emily, who helps con Locke into giving real Sawyer/Locke’s dad his kidney) is the same woman- she could be anyone.  Locke would certainly not know her since he’s never seen her and we all know Sawyer is not above lying.

Ben and Locke’s possible relation caused me to notice their ages relative to one another and that they both have blue eyes.

That got me thinking.  Other people with bright blue eyes?  Christian Shephard, and his daughter Claire Littleton.  Not with blue eyes, bright or otherwise?  Jack Shephard.  So I went back and looked up Margo, Jack’s mom.  Guess what?  Those blue eyes again.

Big B, little b, people!  One of Jack’s parents is NOT his parent.  Since it’s easier to fake fatherhood than motherhood, for obvious reasons, it raises the distinct possibility that Christian is not Jack’s pop.  Making Claire not his sister, Aaron not his nephew, and a whole lot of familial ties, theories and webs come tumbling down.

I might not bring this up if it were any other show- it’s too glaring an error or hint.  I couldn’t concentrate during the golden compass because all I thought was: Big B, little b.  Big B, little b.  A brown eyed child CANNOT be born of blue eyed parents.  It’s a genetic impossibility. 

It’s one of the most widely used examples for dominant/ recessive and heterozygous/ homozygous genetics.  Or genetics 101- the kind of stuff they teach you in grade school. 

Exhibit A: the punnet square

Jack’s parents represent the first box- no brown eyes to be found.

Yeah, I know, I’m a science nerd.  But this is genetics 101- taught in junior high schools the world over (ok, maybe not in Kansas).  And, we’re talking about LOST.  Could they really have stuffed that up?

Discuss.

With all that’s been happening lately with the DNC, the delegates, the debates, the endless op-eds and platitudes, I wanted to bring up something of which, apparently, many of my peers are unaware.

4 amendments and 50 years separate the right for women’s suffrage and that of all men, regardless of race, to vote.

The fourteenth amendment was ratified by congress on 3rd February, 1870.

The nineteenth amendment was ratified by congress on 18th August, 1920.

One reads:

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.

The Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation 

the other:

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.

Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

 

In between those two came the amendment to allow direct election of two senators from each state, unapportioned federal taxes on income (non-discriminatory), and prohibition.

The fine people of the United States, and their government, saw it fit to ban booze while keeping an enormous segment of the population from voting.  Guess what?  It wasn’t black men.  The fourteenth amendment granted them the right to vote- during reconstruction.  Women had to wait 50 years. 

Now, don’t get me wrong- it’s no secret that blacks were intimidated, frustrated and deterred often and egregiously during this period.  Hell, still are (Broward County 2004 ring any bells?).  Blacks were still being lynched, segregation was in full force, and would be for many years to come.  Yet women were not able to vote.  A woman actually served in the senate in Montana-  four years before she could vote for herself.

I think there is something profoundly interesting and significant that in this country, people who were not allowed to eat in the same area, sit in the same section, enter the front door of a club they were headlining because of their skin color were allowed to participate in the bedrock upon which our system of goverment rests.  They had a voice through the ballot (though often suppressed), if not in the public.

Yet, women- and let’s talk about white women here, since it’s more to the point of the argument- enjoyed all the priveleges of free citizens, but were denied the most fundamental and powerful aspect of our society- to participate in the electoral process, determine the laws and rules that would shape society, decide whom would represent them locally, nationally, globally.

This is by no means a “who had it worse” debate.  I think there is no question that the racism that’s diseased this country since its inception is alive and well, and has been since before there was a constitution.  It’s ugly, it’s pervasive, it’s evil and though it’s been largely publicly subverted, it destroys lives and souls and possibilities every minute of the day.

The thing is, misogyny is, too.  Deeply, ubiquitiously, quietly present.  In places and manners we scarcely imagine in our post- Steinhem, Friedan and Madonna-brand of empowerment world.

The mudslinging, rhetoric, “mis-speaking,” betrayals, promises, etc. have been par for the course in this election.  Nothing new to see there, folks.  But the casual, comprehensive and generally accepted misogynistic handling of Hilary Clinton by the media, pundits and public was largely accepted, ignored, even denied. 

But it’s there, and we need to face it. 

On a lark, I polled my friends, most of whom are news-reading, well informed, open-minded and educated (either self or university) about who had the right to vote first.  Not a single person out of about 20 got it right, and all were SHOCKED to learn the reality.  Because lily-white or not, we’re all aware and ashamed of the racism here- from subtle micro-inequities to outright hate crimes.  We know it exists, even if we don’t deal with it every day. 

However, the way that women are thought of- by both sexes- is unrecognized, marginalized, trivialized and ignored.  It’s a disgace to a nation that prides itself on “freedom.”  Women have held the seat of power in conservative and “backward” nations since the turn of the the 20th century- Sri Lanka, India, Central African Republic, Pakistan, England, Bangladesh, Israel, Turkey, Burundi, Mongolia, South Korea, Peru, Macedonia, and Poland- to name a few.  In the last two hundred years, about as many women have ruled nations including economic powerhouses like Germany and the UK, and Islamic near-theocracies, as have served in the US Senate during twice that time.

It’s no secret that I was/ am a supporter of Hillary Clinton.  Now that the nomination lies squarely with Barack Obama, I will throw all my support and interest into his campaign.  Not just because he’s the Democrat, but because I believe he’s a decent person, and earnest, and a good candidate.  I just thought she was better. 

I write all this not to bemoan Hillary’s loss, or because it’s sour grapes, but because I think that while it is positive and interesting that the two contenders are from demographics previously unthought of to lead the US, but because there was some seriously ugly, seriously pervasive, seriously sad things brought to light.  And we need to think about it.

And for those who think I exaggerate- there are many of us here in the US, and many, many, many more abroad who honestly cringe at the memory of George W. Bush condescendingly and inappropriately putting his hands on the shoulders of Angela Merkel, one of the most powerful leaders in the world, at a G-8 summit a little more than a year ago.  It was a small gesture to be sure, but one that spoke volumes.  And people all over the world were listening, watching.  Some of them the same people we condemn and “educate” on their cultural practices dealing with women.  Say what you will about Musharraf or Putin, they would never have been that disrespectful of a colleague in public, especially in such a setting. 

Don’t just accept it.  See it.  Recognize it. 

Don’t stand for it.

SNL last night was amazing- finally someone calls out the press for lobbing softballs to Barack and his decidedly humorless persona.  I have been worshipping Tina Fey for years, but last night’s Weekend Update was the jewel in the crown.

stop being fooled, people.  Obama’s “change we can believe in” is rhetoric, too.  Who do Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kaiser Permanente, “christian” conservatives and Antonin Scalia all fear more? 

Ask yourself that question, and ask yourself what it will mean.

Hillary 08.

ok, maybe it’s not killing me, but it’s certainly sucking the life out of me. 

like any self-respecting comic-book-reading, RPG-playing junior high school nerd, i read stephen king’s the stand.  i didn’t just read it, i devoured it.  i was aware enough at the time to know it wasn’t the greatest novel ever written- i’d already hit up those other precocious tween classics- catcher in the rye and 1984.  But I probably thought it was the third greatest masterpiece. ever.

it was over twelve hundred pages.  it had super awesome illustrations that looked like the ones done by pushead for metallica, which we used to go down to west eighth street to get (it just took me ten minutes on google to find that guy’s name).  it was tragic, epic, it was about good vs. evil, dreams and reality.  it was about bureaucracy, hubris, hate, love… it was about the flu.

it kills off 99.4% of the population and the story is centers on the .6% who don’t die from the sickness or aren’t collateral damage.  they call it captain tripps in the story, created in a lab by the government.  it’s brutal and disgusting and unavoidable.

and i think i have it.

only, instead of it being lethal, it’s just super long-lasting.

everyone i know is sick or has been sick this winter.  so many of us can’t kick it.  my doc said it’s the worst year he remembers.  i’m currently on my fourth round of antibiotics- avalox.  they mess. me. up.  i made the mistake of going to the drug store after taking one the other day.  thank god my friend befri was with me because the drug hit my bloodstream a couple of minutes after i got there.  i’ve never taken ecstasy, but i imagine it’s something like i experienced in the toothpaste aisle of rite aid.  colors were shouting at me from every conceivable angle, everything was sparkly and moving.  i felt lightheaded and walked into a display.  all of this is OK with me, though, as long as it knocks out my sinus infection like it does my balance.

i’ve been down since new year’s day- forty three days and counting.  i’ve missed almost three work weeks of my new job over this time.  it started as the flu, then a sinus infection, then labyrinthitis, back to a sinus infection.  it’s my fourth round of anti-biotics.  i have a day or two left.  i’m taking pseudofed every four hours and bought something called a sinus rinse (yes, it’s gross).  if this doesn’t do it, i don’t know what will. 

so what’s the point?  i don’t know.  i haven’t had one in over a month. 

the fine people at wordpress set up the site so that one may see what search terms are used when chance readers are directed to ones site.  these can be very surprising.  i get a lot for “empire strikes back,” “neurologist,” “traits of an assassin,” none of which are surprising to me.  the last because it always follows an airing of the jenna elfman lifetime movie i blogged about a while back.

the more interesting ones are “gay squirrel,” “faggot,” “what do you do with an eight year old…”  the list goes on. 

it got me to thinking that i might occasionally put something in here for the wanderers; those seeking information, of all things, from the world wide web.  thus, i have decided to put in sundry tips i have picked up of late, in no particular order and for no particular reason. 

1. take claritin if you have a cold.

a lot of people cannot handle ephedrine.  sudafed makes a lot of people jittery. great for meth labs, not great for panickers and hypertension.  even non-ephedrine sudafed will raise your blood pressure.  claritin has something called loratidine in it, the active ingredient, that neither causes the jitters nor raises blood pressure, nor makes one particularly dry mouthed.  i am not allergic to anything, but claritin will always be in my medicine cabinet.

 2. mr. clean magic eraser is a godsend.

it removes dirt, smudges, soap scum, mold, everything you want gone and nothing you don’t.  it’s amazing.  it takes crayon, fingerprints, etc off walls without upsetting the paint.  tip: they tell you to wring all the water out of it, and you definitely need to.  i also recommend going over painted surfaces with a paper towel (lightly) afterward- it will eliminate any streaking.

3. walnut oil hides scratches on hard wood floors.

you can get it at most grocery stores and it takes them out.  scratches, not gouges.  it’s a pretty neat trick.

4. osage oranges get rid of bugs.

you can order them on the net.  leave the dried fruit in cabinets and closets- bugs and rodents HATE it and it’s non-toxic to you.

not alien testicles, but just as gruesome to bugs

5. hairspray is a great way to protect drawings.

if you like to sketch, spray your finished work with any kind of hairspray- it acts as a buffer against time and friction- you  don’t have to worry about your lines getting blurred in your sketch pad.

6. steaming foam cushions brings them back to life.

i saw this on trading spaces, tried it and it worked like a charm.  have foam pillows or couch cushions that are saggy or limp?  remove the covers and put some distilled water in your iron.   turn it on, and hit the steam button while holding the iron to the foam.  they puff up before your eyes.  and remain firm.  it’s awesome.  you may not need to trash that couch yet.

7. the best way to get the smell of garlic off your hands is to touch stainless steel.

seriously.  rubbing lemons on them helps, too, but steel does the trick for me.  if you cook with fresh garlic a lot, you know that smell can stay on your hands for days.  as soon as you’re done touching the fresh garlic, press your hands to some stainless steel (a clean kitchen sink usually does the job).

8. wear swim goggles to prevent tearing when cutting onions

shout out to ma weber for this one.  while it sounds ridiculous, and according to CS, looks hilarious, it works.  i’m saving it more for large onion projects like stuffing, but as someone with sensitive eyes, i’d rather look special in the kitchen than hurt all night.

9. the best way to prevent an oil stain from ruining a shirt?  dish-washing detergent.

got this one from my sister during her stint as a cleaning lady.  when you think about the organic chemistry, it makes sense.  since almost no one wants to think about organic chemistry, just know: it works (for the most part- you still have to get it relatively early).

10.  finally, to keep it in round numbers, the only cure for jet lag is hydration.  NOT sleep.

as a frequent traveler- both forward and backward in time zones, let me assure you, you cannot sleep away jet lag.  you’ll never get it right.  you’re body clock doesn’t adjust because you tell it to, it takes time.  we’ve all lost a night of sleep here or there- it never compares to the utter crap we feel when jet-lagged.  it’s because you’re seriously dehydrated.  an airplane is a desert- with recycled air.  relative humidity is less than 10%.  the food is salty.  you’re probably drinking.  even if you’re lucky enough to fly business, buy lots of water- the biggest bottle you can find.  i try to average one giant bottle per three hours of flight time.  so, you have to get up to go to the bathroom.  that’s actually good for your circulation anyway.  and when you land? buy another giant bottle or two and a gatorade.  your body will thank you for it. 

my next post will aim to help, too.  it’s about those of us (un)fortunate enough to wear a cup size larger than D, but aren’t 90 and want to provoke lust, not pity when seen in our underwear.  websites and everything will be included! 

so, i may be writing a little prematurely, but then, it seems, i tend to do lots of things prematurely.  like write people off.  other things i take too long to do, like pack the emotional baggage and send it on its way.

casey and i have played out, almost to the letter, exactly what i warned against just a few posts ago.

i jumped to conclusions- understandable given my recent history with the opposite sex and wrote him off.  erased his number (to prevent drunken texting), cursed him and sullied his name amongst my friends.  i emailed him to tell him why he’s an asshole.

he called immediately to voice his surprise- where was this coming from? and protest my conclusions.  after discussion he admitted that he should have been more vocal and communicative and my reaction was understandable.  sound familiar? 

i can’t believe it went down almost exactly as my general hypothesis outlined.

lame.  i hate being predictable.

anyway.  not sure what will happen.  i think we both feel like a-holes right now.

as we should.

whilst having drinks with my recently engaged best friend in from the left coast for the holidays, we got to talking about relationships.  he’d been lucky enough to find a girl that was not only beautiful, but honestly enjoys his entirely warped sense of humor and world view.

with us were two fellow single gals, both friends of my friend, both young, attractive, smart, kind.  we are of varying interests and temperaments, but share roman ancestry and cooking skills.  together, we agreed on the following list of criteria that must be shared by possible male suitors:

1. not creepy

2. does not like the movie the notebook, publicly or privately

3. reads

4. is nice

5. likes sports. 

n.b. you just cannot trust a man who does not understand and enjoy sports- be they the american past-times of baseball and football or foreigner friendly fare like soccer or rugby or hurling.  i think tyler durden would agree with us on this point.

it should be noted that, sadly, despite my new knee high black leather boots and witty repartee, none of the three men that have hit on me since the creation of these commandments has even come close to passing.  lo, they’ve actually failed on more than one count.

the only real question left to ask is this: how low will our standards sink by the time we reach 35?  or 40?  i mean, some of these ladies want kids.  to raise, not date.  i believe that actually needs to be pointed out.

ladies, for the love of all that is holy, do NOT make your man watch this film.  just pressing the play button on your remote automatically lowers testosterone by 38% and shrinks testicles up to 3 millimeters in diameter (each!). 

it’s science.