The Queenz Blahg

VA Healthcare Needs an Overhaul, Yet........................

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 15 May 2014 11:31:00 +0000

     There is a lot of bad press going on about the VA System. From my experiences, they've just scratched the surface. However, I want to tell you that there are providers that truly care.

     I recently requested a switch to a new provider, as the one I had been with for over a year was not a good fit for me. He had no bedside manner, talked down on me, and could diagnose long term internal problems without ever touching me or running tests. I was able to tell him what meds I needed, usually over the phone. So I requested to be changed to the women's clinic at the VA.

     I was feeling poorly, so I called yesterday morning on the to see if I could be seen. I called the DIRECT number I was given at 0803, and the phone was picked up by the third ring. I was greeted by a nice voice, given her name, and was asked a series of questions. After approximately five minutes on the phone, I was told that she would give the information to my "team" (team, what?) and someone would call me back. By past experience I didn't expect to hear from anyone for at least two days. Much to my shock, I received a phone call from the RN within 20 minutes. She was very pleasant, not robotic in the least, and told me to come in at 11ish-that day. She explained she had another patient at 1030 and may be a bit late. At 1110 she came out to get me. She smiled with her eyes when she met me, asked if I needed her to carry my bag, then took me in her office.

     She seemed that she cared when she asked me pertinent questions, and answered any questions I had with easy language that I could understand. The whole time she was communicating by computer with my provider, so she would know everything before she came in.

     Here's the super shocker. When my provider came in, she was not only aware of what was going on that day, but most things in my chart. She asked me a multitude of questions and seemed very concerned as to why I had not been given tests for my intestinal problems but had been given four medicines that did the same thing.   Further, she seemed upset that the asthma medicine I was given had been wrongly prescribed and was not a rescue inhaler, which explained why I didn't get immediate relief and why I was there. Seems it was a maintenance inhaler that I had be overdosing thinking I was using a rescue inhaler. I had been told specifically by my previous provider that it was a rescue inhaler (as he sneered and talked to me like I was 3). Even more to my shock, she had already set up all the appointments with other specialty providers to get me on track. She talked with and to me for 37 minutes, asking detailed, caring questions. Before she left, she said she understood why my self care had gone by the wayside since I couldn't talk to my previous provider, but what she said next, something I've NEVER heard any doctor say to me, almost brought me to tears of relief.

    She stated "I need you to learn to take care of your health; you can trust me. If you do not take care of your health, I'll feel like I am not taking care of you". I'm still shaking my head.

     The moral to my rant is that yes, there is a great deal of work to be done in the VA health care system, both administratively and health care wise. However, there are some excellent providers and staff there. I was a support care staff member for 3 years and the veterans were my #1 priority at all times. But, as my provided said, we have to take care of our health, and if that means filing complaints with a patient advocate, which can work minor miracles, or meeting with the director, or writing your congressperson, then by all means do it, as many times as it takes to get satisfaction. You have the right to request a new provider. They do ask that you try to give your provider a year before asking for a change, but will make a balance decision if you need to switch earlier. If you incur any problems, go immediately to your patient advocate. But do not, ever, give up on getting the care you deserve. It may take awhile to get it correct, but you are worth it, you've earned it, and they are there to serve you to the best of their abilities, just as you served our nation.

CHOICES OR UNWILLING EXPOSURE?

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 12 May 2014 16:24:00 +0000

I have been hearing and reading about the uproar over homosexuality and displays of PDA. However, has anyone noticed how the commercials are cramming other opinions down our throats? How about the television show titles that teach our children how to spell and say certain words?

I saw a Norelco shaver COMMERCIAL (I think it was Norelco) that shows a man saying "I'd fu*& me with a useless sensor tape over his mouth. What about the anti-abortion commercial that shows a growing... baby....no sensitivity for the mothers who lost babies. And we have no choices as to whether or not to be exposed to it. Sure, we can turn off the TV, but it's likely we've already been exposed.

As a society, we need to grow up and be sensitive about issues that matter instead of trying to change everyone to believe in what an individual believes in. I am offended by the cussing and sexual content that goes on around us and although I have a mouth on me, I choose not to use vulgarity standing in the grocery line behind a family that has small children. How about all people, straight, gay, religious, nonreligious, etc., keep certain behaviors and opinions within the confines of your own home or using proper forums to discuss it? How about the media stop worrying about lining their pockets and think about what they are exposing others to?

Hey, who are you, me, anyone to judge?

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 01:09:00 +0000

Although I have a deep belief in a higher power, I get extremely annoyed by people who constantly preach as a way of judging others yet fail to practice what they preach. I met a 50-60ish lady at my workplace a few months ago. Our first (and for the most part, only) conversation was how she would not tolerate being talked about and does not believe in that as God is the only one qualified to judge others. (I had not spoken about her as I had never met her before, but I felt as if I were being warned.) Then about ten minutes later I heard her making racists inuendo to a person of her own race about a person of another race. As much as I tried to ignore that and go on with my own business, I've heard like comments since. Then, just a few minutes ago, I hear her (loudly) preaching to another co-worker about judgment and how God does not like those who judge others.
Here lies my struggle: I have witnessed several times her abject dislike and disdain for those of other races. Now, I am not one to throw in the race card but when it's obvious, it's obvious. Being the environment and clientelle we work with, I really feel that she should have to respect others and keep her 'witnessing' to herself; especially when it is used as a thinly veiled disguise for dislike and judgment. If a client or co-worker mentions anything outside of her idea of "right", she does not hesitate to correct them, citing scripture and, to my ears, opinion. I feel that she often steps out of line and have considered either nicely confronting her or seeking higher counsel. What would you do? I have tried ignoring it and I realize that you never know what goes on in another persons life. Yet, I and others are entitled to a comfortable work environment without having to be subjected to her diatribe. Any suggestions?

Things I’ve learned in my lifetime:

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 16:56:00 +0000

1. If you don’t care for it the first time, try it again later; you might be surprised.

2. In many cases, I’d rather “over-do” rather than “under-do”.

3. There is no such thing as saying “I love you” too much, as long as it’s genuine each time it is said.

4. I am not qualified to judge anyone at any time.

5. If someone’s lifestyle is one you disagree with, don’t live like them.

6. If someone’s lifestyle is one you disagree with, remember that not everyone agrees with your lifestyle.

7. Eventually, even in the smallest of ways, we become our parents.

8. Everyone has a past.

9. Most people have secrets.

10. Don’t assume the smile on one’s face doesn’t mask the pain in their heart.

11. Don’t let the pain in your heart keep you from smiling.

12. You never stop learning and growing unless you choose to.

13. A closed mind is a terrible waste.

14. I will never understand how “religious” makes it acceptable to be judgmental, hateful and mean.

15. While I understand having pride in one’s own, I do not understand using that pride to segregate others.

16. One act of kindness does not erase every act of unkindness; however, one prayer asking your higher power for forgiveness will.

Young women, you don't need him...

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Sat, 04 Jun 2011 16:00:00 +0000

I have to say I am amazed and shocked by today's generation of females. Yes, I know, that is said with every generation and I have just become one of the "old people" who shake my head and roll my eyes when a young ladies with a nicer butt and sexier legs walks by. But, what the hey, I'm good with that. Yet, I'm not speaking from a distance, I'm speaking from dead on, face on, everyday experiences with the teens and twenty-somethings of today's world. I have daughters, 22, 21, 17 and 14. I have daily interaction with my daughter's friends. My husband works with several young ladies that we try to mentor. I, myself, am a battle scarred and hard-way-learned person. In short, I now practice what I'm about to preach because I have experienced that which I now denounce.

Young ladies, you do not need these men who put you down, abuse you, abandon you, lie to you, cheat on you. We're not in the 50's any longer; you are not a man's doormat. You can stand independently and be strong, productive and successful. You don't need him to tell you that you are beautiful...tell yourself. You don't need him to provide for you...do it yourself. I understand that loneliness is a terrible feeling but you don't die from loneliness; you do die from abuse, starvation, stress. You can raise your children alone, yet, you can also prevent yourself from pregnancy. Having his baby won't straighten him out, teach him a lesson or make him stay. As a matter of fact, it's more likely that the man will run if you have his baby. Not all men are this way but be honest, a lot are. Ladies, if you don't respect yourself, who will?

I have several beautiful young women in my life right now that are experiencing abusive, neglectful and pointless relationships. I'm not going to blame the men because we women have more power than the women before us. We can stand on our own, we can provide for ours and ourselves. If the man doesn't have a job, won't help with the children, can't clean the house, do the laundry, then that man shouldn't park his being on anything you have paid for or provided. A man that will take money from a single parent is not a man. A man that will lay in bed all day while you're at work then party when you get home, is not a man. If he calls you fat, stupid, useless then move on. Why would you even care about the opinion of a grown man who can not provide for himself.? Sure, he may have on the latest fashions but if he didn't pay for them with the money he earned then he owns nothing. No sex is that good, no man is worth the price of losing yourself or worse yet, your children and family. But the blame is on you, not him. Stand up for yourself, validate yourself, protect yourself young women. Afterall, before he was in your life you had yourself and when he walks out you can't let him take your strength with him. Because, in all seriousness, when he leaves, you are still standing there. Take care of you, beautiful women, put yourself first before any man. Trust in yourself and your higher power.

Young women, you don't need him...

THIS GROWING OLDER SHTUFF WILL KILL YOU...

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Fri, 27 May 2011 18:40:00 +0000

I've recently been told by my Gyn that a complete abdominal hysterectomy is necessary. At this news I actually had a sense of relief because my female workings have never been kind. Each month brings some new pain, twinge, cramp, mood, food craving, panic attack, etc. It's just never been fun for me from the beginning. However, since hitting 40, the fun is really not in existence. Finally, for the first time since I've "become a woman" I have regular monthlies. However, these monthly gifts are accompanied by night sweats, hot flashes, killer cramps and semi-homicidal tendencies. I know, 40(ish) is young to have the menopause symptoms, but like I said, my female workings seem to be less than perfect.
I've been in pain for the greater part of a year; well, extreme pain that is. Some days it is almost impossible to walk between the shooting pains from my lower abdomen and down my leg into my knee. I've had an upper GI, two colonoscopies, intra-vaginal and abdominal ultrasounds, 6 pelvic exams, x-rays, mri's, ct scans all in the last 6 months. Being that I work at the facility I get my health care at I sometimes wonder if they ever get together to discuss my anatomy since I've been intimate (in my warped mind) with several people. I've been to the ER twice in the last month, numerous visits to my "Women's" health care provider to FINALLY get referred to an actual Gyn. After a five minute, excruciating pelvic/vaginal exam, he concludes that scar tissue from my cesarean almost 22 years ago has fused my uterus to the right, and that I seem to have a lot of scar tissue through out,which explains A LOT. Unfortunately all the scans I've had in the last six months do not show scar tissue. For awhile there I was convinced that I was imagining the pain because every test came back healthy. I was shocked to realize that I would get more depressed hearing "negative results" because I could not name the source of the pain. So, getting the word that there is a problem was relieving. Until I had time to think about it.
Mind you, I'm not really struggling with the hysterectomy in and of itself. Finally, no pain and heck, what was once fertile ground is now only a playground, and a seldom played on one at that. I'm not even particularly stressed about the onslaught of menopause; I've been dabbling with it already for about 4 years. What is weighing heavily on my mind is the fact that now I will have to face, in part, my mortality. I'm no kid anymore. I can wear all the trendy clothes and hot hairstyles I want.....the fact will still remain that I am about to have my inner organs, those which designate me as female, removed from within. I'm jazzed that my surgeon will remove the original cesarean scar instead of leaving a really ugly one that has been opened twice. (Can you say "Tummy Tuck"?) Yet, still, I'm about to end a large chapter of my life. I have more or less ignored middle age but now I'm forced to admit, damn, I'm middle aged and my parts are, well, falling apart. Not wanting more children and not being able to have them are two entirely different things. The thoughts of no more periods, tampons, pads, cramps and all that loveliness should have me thrilled, right? Then why am I struggling with this? Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for it to be done because this pain has seriously affected my quality of life. I can't play with my kids and grand kids, nor can I do my best at my job because I'm in pain 99% percent of my time. We will not even mention intimacy with my husband. Walking hurts. Standing hurts. Sitting hurts. I have to sit in this weird position leaning to the left with my right thigh elevated just so I can get a little relief. My doctor has prescribed Vicoden, but has warned me not to take it...(Something about dulling the pain killers post surgery.) So, why do I feel depressed about it? I'm a huge contradiction; again, no issue with the surgery itself. Then again, I will be having parts of me removed. I will not have that which defined me as a woman. Sure, I'll still have the box it all came in which will require far less attention and maintenance, but, well, but.....I don't know if I'm ready to face my maturity. Everyone that has had the surgery has told me that I will feel like a new woman and will never regret it; I'm sooo down with that. But at what expense to my mind? Am I just being a cry baby expecting to have my cake and eat it too? Am I irrational?

To date this surgery is scheduled for July 25th, with great hopes of it being moved up. Between now and then I'm sure I'll have a lot of ups and downs.

I'll keep you posted.

Picture courtesy of: http://smilinggreenmom.com/2010/01/women-and-stress/

I Think, Therefore I've confused myself.

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Sat, 21 May 2011 17:20:00 +0000

WOW! It's been forever since I've posted. Mind you, I said posted. I've written many posts in my head but never seem to get them to type. A lot has changed in my life since my last post, many things for the better. I'm still in school working on a Masters in Social Work. I've decided to take the summer break however, because my brain is TIRED. I work at a veterans health care facility now and I've finally married my significant bother, I mean, significant other. I have a step-grandson that is almost two and the light of my life. My only bio-child, Brandi, is in the Navy, currently stationed in Japan. Life may not always be good but it does go on.

I have to laugh at myself. I just realized that as brave as I try to portray, I am not that brave. Today is supposed to be "doomsday" and I just caught myself checking the time. Do I believe in that shtuff, (yes, shtuff)? No, not really, but I am just paranoid enough to have that niggling "what if" thought in the back of my head. Our modern day predictor, Preacher Harold Camping, needs to get his money back on the How to Predict the End of the Earth classes. He has previously predicted that the world would end in 1994 and here we are in 2011 still waiting...(http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/05/21/preacher-harold-camping-gets-doomsday-prediction-wrong/) Nostradamus (sp?) had predicted many things that have not come true. Of course, his predictions were made back in the time that opiates were not considered drugs....Heck, be honest, some of the best writings come from that era. Edgar Allen Poe, for example, was sick and twisted, but dang he's a great read. Telltale Heart: Thu-dump, thu-dump, thu-dump. Awesome tome to scare yourself silly. (I have his greatest stories in a leatherbound edition.)

I just finished a philosophy class that covered such greats (freaks?) as Socrates, Plato and Nietzsche. Now, those were some twisted, um, alternatively thinking dudes. Philosophy, on the surface, makes some valid points of sense. Deeper, however, and your brain starts twisting in your head trying to make it all work together. You've been raised to believe certain ways about certain things and here comes this philosophy jazz that makes just enough sense for you to start doubting yourself and your beliefs. Now me, being overly analytical as I am, had to over think everything, run pro/con mental lists and then try to parallel the teachings and ultimately caused a train-wreck of confusion between understanding what we had learned as children and was now being presented to me as an adult. My professor stated that we would likely be insulted at some point in this class, as it attacks the basics of our foundation such as love, religion, etc.. I was never insulted, although I did take in enough of the differences to start wondering if, perhaps, we were just really matter and did not exist at all. Hmmm. Food for Prozac, oops, food for thought. Now, the purpose of this class is to teach one to think outside the box and boy howdy, you do, unless you are resistant to any form of thought other than what you possessed from parental and societal programming before the class. The moral of my story, you ask? I have none. I do know that I tend to read too much into things and am really a sacrificial lamb for some cult guru to brainwash. Me thinks I think too much. Or do I? (Thinking.)

If I had six months to live...

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:36:00 +0000

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I am now a full time college student and have a part time job as well as a full time mom and often dad, so my dance card has been over filled.

Below you will find my response to an assignment given by my psych professor, entitled "What would you do if you knew you had six months to live". I rehearsed my response then just wrote from the heart. I have to say this was a very difficult question to answer. Do you think you can?

Here goes:

What would I do if I knew I had only six months to live? I find it very difficult to answer this question. In my head I have rehearsed several different version of the answer, yet each time I feel as if I have left something out. I have to wonder, even now, can one truly answer this question? Will we be able to fill in all the blanks, or at least become satisfied before we meet our demise? In my humble opinion I would say no.
I turned forty last year, recently I turned forty-one. I have to admit in this time I have had some great mental discussions with myself about my mortality. I am no spring chicken, more of a late summer one, and I am feeling the effects of growing older. My knees do not spring up from a crouch any more nor can I get through the night without having to pee at least once. I know I am now in the "middle", meaning I am part of the middle generation as my grandparents are gone, my parents are still alive but showing the effects of sixty and seventy plus years of living. I have children old enough to have children, and one already does. I am still someone's child while also being a mother and a grandmother.
If I were to be given final notice, I would probably cry for a day or two. Then I would get up, brush myself off, and love the heck out of everyone within my reach. I would make sure my spouse-elect and children know what they mean to me, and what they have taught and given to me in their lifetime. I would make sure they had something of me, preferably my wisdom and my love to carry them through out their lives. I would tell my mother I forgive her, and my father too. I would look at the sky and the moon and the stars and the clouds and take deep breaths. I would host a drunken party night for myself and my estranged siblings. I would call my two ex-husbands and tell them I still love them and always will and thank them for the things they taught me, good and bad. I would make arrangements for my BFF (Best Feline Friend) Abbie to go with me. I would smile at elderly people and hug children. I would be all the things in that six months that I wanted to be in my forty-one years. I think I would sky dive, rappel (again) and spend a weekend on a beach with my human BFF and let her know that if I were gay I would pick her. I would call my lifelong friend and tell her that I am proud to have grown up with her and happy that I still have her in my life. I would strut my not so taut and firm arse proudly down a nude beach. I would scream at God and rail and pace, cursing his power and begging for forgiveness. I would make up my mind if I really believe in God. I have always considered myself more spiritual than religious.
I would not lament on the unfairness of my impending death nor make everyone sad by living like I was already dead. I would not hold back tears or fears or any honest emotions but I would not make everyone suffer with me. I will not, now, let a day go by without smiling at least twice and telling at least one person I love them.
I would, finally, forgive myself for not being a better wife, a better daughter, a better mother, a better sister and admit to myself that I am a wonderful person. Even when I'm not so wonderful.
While baring my soul in this missive, I have to admit that many things in our textbook have opened my eyes. I intended to pursue my degree to help others but have helped myself a great deal. It is really hard to ignore words when they are written in black and white and put before you. Chapter eight really did a job on my self-denial as well as my self awareness. In nine chapters I've healed so much. However, it is difficult to grow up, even in my forties.
Before I went I would advise those that are listening to love hard, learn as much as you can and teach a child what real love is. Money doesn't make you rich, seeing a stranger smile at you because you smiled at them is better than all the gold, chocolate and great sex in the universe. Hearing a child laugh is worth dying for. To use an over used passage that I have no idea who the author is: "Live every day like you are dying". Don't wait to feel or give or accept advice from a ninety year old lady in the line at the grocery store. Wisdom is learned and earned, so earn and learn, then pass it on.

If I can hear your dog barking, WHY CAN'T YOU?

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:26:00 +0000

Dogs bark, I know this. As a matter of fact, that's the reason why most of us have dogs. The dog alarm is a very effective warning tool. Yet, nuisance barking is just that, a tremendous nuisance.

I am a rather tolerant neighbor, if I may say so myself. When my neighbors' pit bulls broke through my fence and joined my dogs in destroying my back yard, I smiled and said "it's OK, it happens". Since then they've dug under the fence, assisted my dogs in breaking down my side gate and going on a spree run. Nothing like seeing two pit bulls, a boxer, and a German Sheppard running in a pack down the street. Thank goodness none of the four dogs have a clue what breed they are and are happy dumb dumbs. Things happen with kids, pets and intoxicated husbands on game day so you have to pick your neighborhood battles. Where my problem lies is with the middle of the night barking.

My dogs bark at night, no doubt. The thing is, I'm reactive. I don't let them bark endlessly. I will actually get up and check to see what they are barking about or at the very least knock on the window and say some choice words to them. I don't let it go on and on daylight nor dark. But the dogs behind my house, same ones as above, tend to bark for the fun of it. Last night I got up no less than four times to make sure it wasn't my fur-faces making the racket. Wake me up once and there is a chance that I can go back to sleep. More than that makes it impossible. So I spent the last several hours of darkness changing positions on my bed and cussing at the ceiling. Fact of the matter is that I didn't initially fall asleep until way past one a.m. only to be rudely awakened around four-thirty am. In essence, I'm cranky, grouchy and tired.

BUT....Why is it that I can hear them but the owners can't? Perhaps I should ask them their secret to sleep and borrow whatever they take. If it happened once in awhile I'd be fine but almost every night is ridiculous. I'm not into calling the police on dogs but....after a few restless nights that's starting to appeal to me. At what point should I stop being neighborly and get a little pushy? Further, I can't be the only person being kept up by the dogs noise as I have neighbors behind, beside and at the corner. Grrrrrrr.

Since it's daylight I think I may try to lay down for a few minutes. The dogs don't seem to bark during the day.

Dear Mom, Please excuse my absence......

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 15:59:00 +0000

It's been awhile since I've written and I have no real excuse. Writer's block perhaps? Life interruptus? I've written in my mind several times but sleeping on a piece of paper won't make it print.

I've recently gone back to school online. Trying to finish up that Psych degree. I've always had an interest in social work, as a stepping stone to forensic psychology, so I decided to knock out this last few classes. Like I don't have enough stress....Boy, the things we do to ourselves. Actually, I love to learn. If I were rich I'd go to school for my entire life taking pointless yet interesting classes. Nerd, perhaps? Perhaps.

I've also been mind-writing my book. I have a deep respect for the author Beverly Cleary and would love to be an author of her caliber. I enjoy writing and story telling but lack confidence. I know I can do it, but have already been rejected a few times which makes it difficult for me to jump back in the saddle. That whole rejection issue can mess you up. I also want to write teen books and a few animal books. (Not for the animals to read, of course, but from their points of view.) Have you ever watched your pet and wondered "what they are thinking"? I think that if more books were written that were "fun" yet snuck in real facts and realities then more children might read and learn at the same time.

I, personally, abhor reading because I have to but can devour an interesting novel or story in a day, time willing. I also enjoy true crime because it is engaging, (thus my psych degree, ya think?) although I am currently reading a true crime book by a popular writer that is far too descriptive, and, well, so boring that I may give up. Ya win some, ya lose some.

Anyhow, the premise of this missive is to hang my head in shame that I haven't been contributing to my blog. Please forgive me, as I am merely but human. (Blech!)

Today on Maury........

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 16:25:00 +0000

OMG to infinity!!! I admit with shame that in the several months I've been laid off from work that I've come to the point of watching Maury Povich (sp?) regularly. Todays subject is about teens that have sex with multiple partners and so on. Ugh. As the mother of an overdeveloped 15 year old girl and a rapidly developing 12 year old I have to say that, whew, thank God for my girls. The fifteen year old is boy crazy, at times girl crazy, as seems to be in-vogue these days. I have recently put an alarm system on my house for the people on the inside. Yet, after watching this show as well as listening to the tales of other mothers, I think I may still have some control. How much? Not sure, it tends to fluctuate. For how long? I don't know but am grateful for each day.

The 15 year old is fairly transparent and tends to tell on herself. The one that scares me is the 12 year old. She has three older sisters that have done it all. I've convinced myself that if I were to search her room I'd find several volumes of notes she'd taken on "How to break the rules and not get caught". One of the older girls keeps telling me to "keep your eye on that one". Hmmm. I hope after all the lessons they taught me that I know what to look for. However, this one may come to show that she will be the inventor of a few more tricks. Let us pray......

Blue Monday: Something to hold on to

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Tue, 26 May 2009 12:58:00 +0000

Blue Monday is hosted by Sally at Smiling Sally. Visit her and the others who participate to see more blue today!

I woke up this morning feeling quite grouchy and cranky. No particular reason, just not feeling especially friendly. (Ok, so I wrote this last Tuesday, thinking it was Monday ((which was a Holiday)) but my mood hasn't changed much.)
I realized that it's Blue Monday, actually a favorite day of mine. Being that I'm "out of sorts" and my Spouse-elect is not around, I decided that a big Teddy is just might be what I need to get back on emotional track. You can hug him too, if you need to. I don't mind sharing. Just don't drool on him. Tears are ok.

What the Heck have I gotten myself into?

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 25 May 2009 22:21:00 +0000

The Queen is disgruntled. I am so not looking forward to school being out. I feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it. These, PEOPLE, in my house are making me crazy. I'm convinced that my mothers' curse worked. You know the one. "I hope your kids one day put you through what I go through with you, only worse!" I'm SURE it's working.

Let me give you a clue. Just a little "inside" on my distress. My beloved other half is TDY--Temporary Duty-- for several months. So it's just me and the babies. Both girls, one is 15 and the other is an old 12. Already feeling my pain? So we have puberty, attitude, sneakiness, hatefulness, lying, sneakiness, conniving, manipulating, forgetfulness, sneakiness X2. (Re-use of the word sneakiness is intended.) School is actually a place to go to hang out; nay, decent grades are not necessary as long as you're popular. Obviously things have changed from my time in high school and junior high because it is now considered "Cool" to be cute but dumb. I mean, fail a year means an extra year of daytime social school. Attending class on time is no requirement because you get more attention from teachers and students alike when you make your tardy but grand entrance. Merely a nuisance to pay attention in class. Saturday school for excessive tardies? Clearly another gathering day for the dumb but cute.

My fifteen year old is my super sneaky diva. She has Daddy's charm (as well as his devotion, yes, I went there.) Pretty with grande's, if you know what I mean, she can smile and make the teacher believe it's his/her fault she doesn't ever do her class or homework. Very, very skilled at the "poor me" and "Look how adorable I am" manipulation. About the only two people in the world it doesn't (always) work on is her natural mother and myself. She manages to skate through a lot of things, including Daddy's wrath, based on the above mentioned skills. Yes, I know what you're thinking, it does cause a lot of extremely heated discussions between Dad and I. He's just as charmed as the rest of the world. I, however, am not.

Now, the twelve year old. My girl, really. OK, so we're not supposed to have favorites but this is where I invoke the "step-moms'" right to choose. I am the hardest on her. I have great expectations for her and get frustrated that she's, well, lazy. It's easier for her to guess or say "I don't know" rather than take the risk of her being wrong or having to actually engage in the thinking process. She's also the silent rebel. How? you may ask. Sit down. This may take a minute.

So far this year we've replaced the garage door, pulled cat litter and paper towels out of the toilet, lost objects that were right there. Other things show up mysteriously broken or marred. I'm sure I'm missing some act of defiance in my rush to get to my main complaint: her bedroom carpet.

I spent close to $200 a few months ago having the carpets through out my house professionally cleaned. I've been fairly strict thus far about shoes, food, drinks, etc.. But alas, my precious girl has most definitely one-upped me. I walked in her room last weekend after a particularly hormonal and argumentative weekend with my little cherubs. When I walked in, it took awhile for my eyes to focus, I think mainly from disbelief or denial, on the destruction of this bedroom. My sweet princess had taken apart several magic markers, you know, where it has the long strip of inked cotton-like material, and splatter painted her room. Not just the wall, but brand new comforter and curtain set, and, best of all, the entire carpet in her bedroom. No matter what you do, magic marker does not come out of beige carpet. Nope. Steam cleaner, please. Hand scrubbing with various substances and potions makes a clean but magic markered carpet. Horrified yet? It continues.

The following morning I was awakened by "MoooooooM, the dogs got out. So I go plodding out into the back yard to check that spot in the fence that I fix (rig) often. When I stepped from my deck to the ground, several inches of water covered my feet to the ankles. Now mind you, I'd been awake all of 30 seconds so my brain could not give me a quick explanation of why I was standing in a small lake. As I blink my eyes and try to make sense of it all, I realize that my in- ground pool is just shimmering in the early morning light. How beautiful.....WAIT! The pool is filled to the very top and water is cascading over the edge. Holy cow! Suddenly my brain kicks into gear and I realize that the garden hose was in the pool, turned on full blast, and had been there since about 5:30 pm the following night. I look around my very wide back yard and realize that not only about 400 feet (or more) of my back yard is flooded but my neighbors yard is too. So I rush over, turn off the hose, yank it out of the pool with several expletives flying out of my mouth, then just stand there. Just stand there. Slowly my chin drops to my chest and I just stand there, that is, until the dogs come barrelling in the gate that had been left open by my beloved 12 year old. My mind was dumbstruck, especially since this was the first time EVER that she' d decided to add water to the pool. That's my job.

Yes, I do drink a glass or 3 of wine at night after they are in bed. I often contemplate taking up smoking again or some mind numbing drugs. If I seem to have aged in the last 4 months, go figure. I want a vacation, I NEED A VACATION.

BLUE MONDAY

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 18 May 2009 02:16:00 +0000

Picture by: By quangkhuon01g at Photobucket
This is hosted by Smiling Sally Please visit her site!

The absolute beauty of nature can be both intriguing and terrifying. This picture caused me gasp at the rawness of that which we take for granted. Take a moment to observe the beauty of each new day; whatever it may bring.

Foodie Friday - The Queenz Choice Salad

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Fri, 15 May 2009 00:54:00 +0000

At the suggestion of my friend Yira from earlymorningpeace, I am participating in this fun event, Foodie Friday, hosted by Gollum from Designs by Gollum.

It seems as you grow, ahem, wiser....more experienced, that your tastes change. I have found that I enjoy food the fresher the better, especially a good but easy to make salad. On occasion I might add a few chunks of Parmesan chicken and strawberries.....

Photo by *T*

OK so I admit this is not my picture but it's close. I got a little carried away and ate my salad before I had a chance to take pictures to show off.

My personal favorite....hmmm, well one of my personal favorites I have named:

The Queenz Choice Salad

Ingredients:

Spinach

Avocado

Red lettuce

Iceberg lettuce

Scallions

Cucumber

Tomato

Parsley

Very thinly sliced cucumber and tomato.

Garlic salt and freshly ground pepper.

Ground orange peel and/or lemon peel add quite the zest to a salad.

No need for salad dressing.

You can add sliced almond if so desired.

Toss thoroughly.

Enjoy!!

Blue Monday- A place to rest my mind

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 11 May 2009 12:27:00 +0000

My first blue monday. This is hosted by Smiling Sally. Visit her site for more on the blue side of town.

~ ~ ~

I am dreaming of a quiet, peaceful place in nature. This is my blue. The ocean, an umbrella and the Blue Hawaiian you can't see :-) Maybe soon I'll be there.

photo by neloqua

A DAY IN A MOTHERS' LIFE

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Sat, 09 May 2009 04:25:00 +0000

Photo by Nauman Umair

Not so quietly they creep, as not to be detected. Loud whispers and giggles erupt. Shhhhhh! reverberates around the room, penetrating the barrier of the door to the room in which I was sleeping. Oh, it's still so early this Mother's Day morn.

The creaking of doors and the slamming of drawers makes further sleep impossible. Small arguments and the banging of pans would awaken even the heaviest sleeper. Soon the glorious scent of coffee fills the air, and, oh, is that bacon? I hear " you make the toast" followed by another loud "Shhhh"; giggles once again. The clatter of plates and flatware draw closer, closer still. Anticipating that the door will soon open I nestle further into my bed, pretending to be in an oblivious sleep. I hear "wait, wait, we forgot the coffee" and an impatient moan. The thud of a coffee cup hits the counter, soon followed by a stirring sound. The patter of quick but steady feet halt in front of my door. Slowly, ever so slowly, my door opens. I can sense the peeking and hear the shifting of their precious load.

Yet again, a giggle. Continuing my pretend slumber, I seem not to notice the movement around me. The tray table is opened with the greatest of care. The food and condiments are settled upon it. Suddenly, a pressure on the mattress, then more. I lazily shift my position and pretend to awaken; seeming not to be aware at all.

As I open my eyes my TV comes on. I focus to see what's going on in my room. To my astonishment I find...

My precious children sitting on the end of my bed eating their freshly cooked food and watching cartoons.

TO MOM'S EVERYWHERE, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Photo by j_jyarbrough

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Wed, 06 May 2009 14:41:00 +0000

So Sorry
"I love you" she whispered
"I know you do"
He said as he turned his face from her view
"I need you"
she pleaded
"I hear what you've said"
He responded softly as he lowered his head
"Please, wait a moment" she implored
As he turned away
Not knowing what to do
or what to say
"Please, just listen" she begged
As he looked at her once again
"I, I just really do not want this to end"
"I'm sorry my love"
she stated
As her eyes filled with fear
Then reaching forward she draws him near
"I went too far"
She mumbles, afraid of what he'll say
Worried she'll awaken to an empty day
"You are my world, my love"
She murmurs in his ear"
I promise
I'll never again
drink the last beer"

Copyright ©2009 Lurleen D England

Today I'd like to.....

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Mon, 04 May 2009 13:47:00 +0000

Have only positive thoughts.
Get a 2 hour full body massage.
Get a new hair cut. Something hot momma.
Not get sniped at by my 11 year old.
Not have to wonder if my 15 year old is telling the truth.
Magically get all the yard work done without breaking a sweat.
Tell my significant (b)other how much he means to me.
Make my friends laugh.
Finally clean my bedroom.
Get caught up on the laundry.
Write or say something inspiring.

What I want to be in my next life...

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 16:22:00 +0000

OK, so the subject of reincarnation is a touchy one so I'll cruise on past that. But IF there is a such thing as "coming back" I want to come back as a well treated house cat. I've been observing mine over the last few months and have concluded that I want to be one of them. If you look to the right you'll see a picture of my love kitty, Abbie. No stress there, eh? Her hard day consists of finding different positions to sleep in, sun bathing in a window of her choice, eating, being petted and cuddled, bathing, pottying and it starts all over. For the most part she runs the house. She's allowed me to live with her for almost 10 years. Although she's grown quite "fluffy" she's still a spry ol' girl. Has her "Tiger in Jungle" moments every morning and every evening. I sometimes wish I could see from her point of view.

Above, you can see Zeus, my Lilac Point Siamese. However, after visiting the zoo, we've collectively decided he is a Siamese Ocelot. This cat is huge. Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier but I have to say he is one sexy cat. I swear when he walks through the house I hear "I'm too sexy for my........" playing. He's very cross-eyed and quite blind but he's the MAN I tell you. I sometimes wonder if he just plays dumb. Why, you wonder? Because if he's not let into the house in an acceptable amount of time he rings the doorbell. No really, I have witnesses. He rings the doorbell.

What a life, no? No bills to pay, no chores to do. The ability to ignore people and be cranky when one wants, demanding if one feels like it and stand-offish at will and no one has any expectations of accomplishment. Someone erks or annoys them they just do a bite-by or a quick little swipe of the paw, hide, then come back with a sweet meow and an undeniable loving face. No repercussions for being a brat and the ability to make the person feel guilty for your bad mood. As a woman I sincerely admire that power. Yes, the more I think of it the more I want to be a well taken care of domestic house cat in my next life.

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 13:26:00 +0000

Peaceful stillness renews the soul
A moment to center oneself and reflect
Early morning breeze and dew
Enjoying nature at it's best
LEngland

Borrowing some of Yira's Early Morning Peace

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 13:02:00 +0000

The children are off to school with minimal fighting. I'm in my home office doing my morning routine; checking email, bank accounts, etc. Scanning my blog. One cat is on the floor by my feet close enough for me to rub a toe on her now and again and the other is passed out in a chair to my right. I'm waiting for the plumber (again) to unclog the guest potty.
Outside it's still cloudy and grey, but the birds are out and the squirrels are feeling frisky. I could sit on my deck for hours and watch the squirrels play. I'm silly enough to do the voices for them. (Yira! Do you remember the time we laid on the end of my bed in my apartment in O'side and did the voices for the animals on Animal Kingdom?) One of my very favorite memories.

Hugh Jackman is on GMA right now. Meow. I'd consider having his baby. Not! That part of my life is kaput. What was once fertile ground is now only a playground. (A very little played on playground I might add.) But still the man is F_I_N_E. That accent. Shiver! Little midlife fantasy right there. Purrrrrrr.

So, I really need to find a job. I'm attempting to get my business running but it's the type of business where you have to utilize your resources to build your clientele. I definitely see progression but being the impatient Cancer that I am, and female, I want it all now. This is the first time in MANY years that I've not been employed. I really do enjoy being home (most of the time) so I really want to get this lil' bidniss rolling. Check out my site: llgspersonalasst.com.
(You had to know I'd plug it.)

Let me do my chores now. Good Day to all and may you all enjoy a little early morning peace.

Just a stranger's smile....

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 02:05:00 +0000

I have to admit that my life has been difficult the last two years. First my spouse-elect lost his job. Eventually he found a good job then I got laid off from mine. One step forward, twenty to the rear. In between all the fun things that life brings. You live, you love, you lose, you learn and repeat the process many times. In between you make it. Painfully sometimes but you live to fight another day.

Yesterday I was in Wal-Mart, having a deep "poor me" conversation with myself in my head. Mentally lamenting about the lack of money and how my allergies were bothering me and the toilet overflowed again. The dog tore up the bag of charcoal and Ty has an attitude. You get it, right?

I happened to look up and saw this elderly gentleman coming down the aisle. I'm not sure what he saw in my face but he stopped, gave me this beautiful smile that told me how handsome he must have been in his youth. He said to me "Do you believe in good luck?" to which I replied "Sometimes". He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that was folded into a shirt. On the shirt he had drawn the stripes of an army soldier and on the rear was a funny face with a really big nose. He hands it to me, smiles again, and says "You have a beautiful day!".

You know what? I did. Suddenly my attitude changed from "poor me" to "oh, what a beautiful day". And all it took was just a stranger's smile......

IS PLASTIC SURGERY AN OPTION?

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 01:15:00 +0000

Eww. Such a question. Hmmm. Having just recently admitted to myself that I'm 40 and have some 40 p

arts that questions might just cause a book to be written instead of just a blog. I have to say Hollywood has given us quite the examples of "why" and "why not" in regard to plastic surgery.

Take Joan Rivers for example. OMG X Infinity!!! She looks like a

mannequin! I saw her on Celebrity Apprentice and had to really look hard at her face to see her eyes. What plastic surgery didn't stretch and pull her heavy makeup covered. Yuck. One for the "Hell no" side.
Then you get the young ones like Ashley Simpson-Wentz. She had quite the snoz on her that took away from her beautiful eyes. (She not alone on the big snoz thing, beeeeLieve me!) Since that little facial enhancement, my opinion is that she's really very pretty now.

I think if I had the money and/or the courage I would have a nose job done along with a wee bit of a facelift, neck lift, boob lift. I'm fine with the size of

my girls but I'd really like to have them looking more skyward again rather than nodding at my feet. I'd get some veneers on these fangs with a quick

ness. Maybe plump up these lips some. Brow lift. I could benefit from a personal trainer too (Yira!). I mean, I'm still a hottie for 40, almost 41, but if I could do it all with the benefit of surgery I think I would. The teeth and brow lift fer shur.

Question prompt sponsored by Mama's Losin' it!! Click on the picture to read what others have to say.

One day closer...

noreply@blogger.com (The Queen ) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 23:26:00 +0000

Last year my girls and I discovered something we will do our best to do every year. River tubing down the Guadalupe River. OMG!!!! 15 dollars a person, sitting in an inner tube floating down a river. Last year we tied our tubes together and had a total blast. We floated for about 3 1/2 to 4 hours. One can also rent a tube to put your cooler full of BEER on it. We took packages of lunch meat, crackers, home made trail mix, juice and water and had the most fun. The river was still rather cold but after a few minutes WHO CARES? This year we have more family and friends going with us so we should really have a good time. We're heading out early Saturday morning, taking the two hour well worth it ride and off we go! Talk about inexpensive entertainment. The rapids were so much fun and at some points the water was low enough to get out and walk in. Bring your own food and spend the day outdoors with your family. Little to no worry or stress. I recommend this to any and everyone. http://www.riversportstubes.com/