The Great Cup Race

I have been trying a few different period products over the past couple of months, the Diva Cup and the Keeper. Below, you will find the list what I liked and did not like about each. If you feel uneasy with frank talk of periods and privates, you may want to pass on this entry.

1. I liked that the Diva Cup came with a cute pin that you can wear to announce to the world that you are having your cycle and using your earth friendly product.
   
2. The Diva Cup was pleasantly translucent. The Keeper is an ugly brown color.
   
3. The Diva Cup has measurements marked on it so you can see just how much you are flowing in fluid ounces. Very interesting.
   
4. Both come with cute cloth bags to carry them about with you.
   
5. Both are environmentally friendly by reducing the waste you generate with your period.
   
6. Both are safer than tampons.
   
7. The Keeper’s handle (the piece of rubber that hangs down from the cup that you grab to withdraw from your vagina) is smooth, long, and comfortable.
   
8. The Diva Cup’s handle has ridges that are handy for grasping purposes but are not comfortable and rubbed me a bit raw where you don’t want to be raw. You know what I am saying?
   
9. The Diva Cup’s sizing criteria was based on age and childbirth experiences. This was not good for me for it said I needed the big one. I bought the big one and really tried for days to adjust to it but it was not happening. If I was still a virgin before the Diva Cup, I am not one now. Oooooh!!! Really, they should have a special clause for those of us who have not expanded our nether regions from birth, sex with men, large dildos, fisting, etc.
10. The Keeper’s sizing criteria is not based on age but more on what your vagina has been up to. With their sizing criteria, I qualified for the smaller size which really suits me better!
    

And the Winner is …… The Keeper. Sorry Diva Cup fans.

I....I.... urm....Uhg,...

So I had a major dyslexia freak out last night in our adoption parenting class. I guess the trainers think we are in third grade because they make us read things out loud for the class. And I got called on to read this page with a ton of text on it. I freaked out and could hardly speak. I stammered a minute then said something to the effect of “I cannot read out loud.” Another woman jumped in and read the page while I tried to not relive K-12 horrors in my mind. The trainers apologized later and I explained that I have dyslexia. She was very nice about it, asking when I was diagnosed and about schooling issues.

I was diagnosed in my second year of college when a GTA in my general psych class pulled me aside and told me I should get tested. In all my years of school and with having a mother who was a teacher, no one ever explored a learning disability as the reason I excelled at math but sucked big time in spelling, grammar, and reading. I was always told I was not trying hard enough and to look up the words I did not know how to spell in the dictionary. First of all, I was trying. Second, I did not know and still do not know that I am spelling a word wrong. Third, how the hell are you supposed to find the word’s spelling if you don’t have the faintest clue of how to spell it. Anyway, I got a letter stating I had dyslexia and that changed my college career. I went from B’s and C’s to A’s. It was beautiful.

I do pretty well now. I still spell words wrong all the time but I am almost ok with it. I don’t usually have to read out loud so that is good. And I have one hell of an editor for my professional manuscripts. I owe her my so much!

So next week, I will try to not freak out for the social workers at the class.

I thought you did it

Last night, my lovely wife took me out to one of our favorite restaurants, Cedar Street Restaurant, to celebrate the publication of my first research article. For those of you who are interested in it’s name, it is called “The Effects of Music Therapy on Pediatric Burn Patients’ Pain and Anxiety During a Donor Site Dressing Change.” A real page turner, for sure! It is really a catchy title that screams out “READ ME!!!” Not.

Anyway, during dinner, we were remembering all her sacrifices when I first wrote the manuscript when it was my thesis. As you may know, I have dyslexia and cannot spell nor do I have great grammar. AJWP was my tireless editor throughout my master’s coursework. So, the night I turned in my thesis, I had to wake her at 3 AM to do the final proofing. To lighten the mood a bit, at the end of the paper, I wrote “The End, Love Hashbrown.*” AJWP laughed and thought I would take it out before I emailed it to my professor. I thought AJWP had taken it out when she read it. As soon as AJWP finished proofing it, I emailed it to my professor. Two days later, in Wal-Mart, of all places, I brought it up and we both had a good laugh. Then we realized “The End, Love Hashbrown” was still in the manuscript when I sent it to my professor. As soon as I got home, I fixed the document and emailed it to my professor, stating I found one last error I wanted to fix. Luckily, she never saw the ending.

The moral of the story is make sure your silly joke is taken out of your thesis before you send it in.

The End, Love Hasbrown.

DIY means Do It (your project) -for-what-seems-to-be-a Year

Our storm door to our mud room rotted around April. AJWP tried to fix it but it did not really work or look so great. We put off the project for a long time, thinking the door size would be irregular like many in our home. We thought it would cost a ton of money to special order the door, and our experience of special ordering doors is not so good.

Last time we special ordered a door, it was our big mamba jamba front door. Of course, we got the solid wood super heavy door (so burglars and such cannot break it down). We gave the people the measurements just as they had asked. However we got it home and it was too tall and the places carved out for the hinges were not in the right places. Being the one with the tool know how, I had to cut the door with the circular saw to the right length. I was so nervous, my stomach began to fail me and I became more distressed. Of course, the door was cut crooked. And then, having no chisel or router, I used a drill to carve out the site for the hinges. If that was not hard enough, have you ever tried to hang a door? A big mamba jamba door? No? Well, it sucks. It was a nightmare but I doubt the "This Old House" guy could have performed any better under those circumstances, diarrhea and all.

This time, it turned out to be a normal size door. I go to Home Depot and buy our new door. Once home, I started taking the old door off. However, the screws on the hinges were very rusty and one hinge was covered partially by the railing for the porch. This needed to come off so we could screw in the new hinge for the new door. I tried unscrewing the screws. Didn't work. I tried spraying WD-40, letting it soak in, and unscrewing the screws. Did not make it move a bit. I drove to Home Depot (2nd trip) and bought a metal drill bit to drill out the screws. The screws were so tough, it only got maybe a 1/8th of an inch deep. So then we go to Home Depot (3rd trip) and buy a hack saw to cut through the heads of the screws and remove the hinge. I hacked through 1/2 of one in 45 minutes. AJWP then starts hammering it to break it free. Did not work. Back to Home Depot (4th trip). The lady there recommends using a chisel to break the screw. Both of us hammered it repeatedly for 5-10 minutes and all that happened was the chisel lost it's edge. All in all, we spent 6 hours on one stupid hinge.

Then the door is too long so I take out the thresholds and find the wood under it is rotting. GREAT! I deal with that, replace the threshold and we then decide to cut 1-1/2 inch off the bottom of the door. We do that. It takes three or more hours to get the door hung. However, the door jam is all crooked because it is an old house. So I took today off to fix it up so the door latches and the weather will not pour through the giant gaping space between the door and the jam. AJWP is happy with the door. It will keep kitties in, weather out, and the dog in or out so that is good by me.

It is amazing how a simple project can become a huge nightmare.

Wicked Angry

My parents have not responded as of today. I do not think they will. I think they do not respond because they do not know what to say. I feel they do not respond because I don’t matter. I don’t know what is the truth is.

Because of the lack of response, I am getting angry with them. But they are not available to take it out on. All week long, I try to put my anger and tears aside so I can do my job and be an adequate supervisor to my interns. Through the week or weekday I tell myself to hold it together until I get home or until the weekend. When I get home, my anger comes out all wrong. I pick stupid arguments with my wife, with whom I normally nearly never argue. I loose my cool at the drop of a hat. I have no tolerance for anything especially myself.

I got to find a better way to let this anger out.

Living the Dream

My first research article was published in the Journal of Music Therapy. I got it in the mail Monday night. Tuesday, I took it to work and made copies for the head of the hospital, the head of patient care services, my boss who was on the research team, and the surgeon who was on the research team. That afternoon, the head of patient care services (my boss's boss) sent me flowers to celebrate the publication of my first research article.

It is a dream come true, literally. When in my undergraduate classes, we would be assigned articles to read out of the music therapy journals. Instead of paying attention to what I was reading, I would daydream of the moment when it was my name underneath some dry sounding research title. I dreamed of the day I would have a body of research about some topic (I did not get so far as to identify my topic, only that I was a key researcher in that area). Luckily, somewhere along the line, I learned a few things and landed a job where I could devote my research to one topic. Currently, I have two articles in the process of sending in to journals and them sending them back foreditoriall changes. So I have started to develop my body of research in pediatric acute pain. I am living the dream. Granted it is a wicked nerdy dream, but it is a dream none the less.

Anger

In one week, I got 2 emails from my parents. This is unheard of for they rarely email me at all. I can count the number of times on one hand for the past five years, including these two. The first was about my father having spinal stenosis and their plans for second opinions. I knew this was coming for my parents are in their 70’s, I think. I know that one day they would contact me or someone would to let me know one of them is seriously ill. Thankfully, spinal stenosis is rather common and treatable in a variety of manners. So he is not in any grave danger of dying.

Yesterday, I open my email to see another email from them. In this lovely email, they outlined their itinerary for their travels through October. This is unusual for they have NEVER sent me their itinerary. To top it off, this itinerary outlined how they are visiting each of my siblings and their families. Obviously, I was not on the list because they don’t visit, call, or write (until this week’s emails).

I am so livid that they would do something so mean spirited or thoughtless as emailing me a reminder of how they talk to and visit all my siblings. My chest burns with fury and my arms long to rip things apart. I am so sick of their games, thoughtlessness, and/or crap. Like I don’t know already that they are chummy with my siblings. I know it and it hurts enough. This email was just too much. Adding to my fury is the fact they have not responded to me from the letter I sent them in April. Clearly, my thoughts and feelings have no bearing in their world.

Parenting Class

We started our parenting class last week and have another today. I am not looking forward to it that much. It was not that uplifting at all. Adoption from a state agency comes out of abuse, neglect, and tremendous loss. Our child will have gone through hell to get to us. This is not a happy thought. I try to think about it in terms that we will be there to provide a child a stable loving home when they need it most. But then you can sound all entitled and all “I am saving this child; give me a badge of honor” and that is not how I feel about it. I am not sure how to describe how I feel though. Any ideas?

The other thing is how freaking long the entire process is. It will be two month until the class is completed. Then we get to do the home study and that takes 3 months. Then we are in the waiting pool and a year’s wait is not uncommon. Because we want an infant, it could be much longer. Then the infant adoptions are adoptions at risk. This means that you are considered a foster parent for 3 or so years. I am going to be 60 when we finally get the kid on paper.

And you have so little control throughout the entire process. There is all the waiting, then you have like 2 seconds to decide if you want a kid when they become avalaible, and then you have to wait for ever to finally have take custody of them. You cannot do much of anything like consent to surgery in that whole time that you are considered foster parents. I do not like this process.

Are You Gay?

Margaret Cho was so funny! She is even funnier in person than on TV. I laughed so hard and my face hurt from smiling. She did a great mixture of old and new routines. Her show was seamless and her delivery flawless. I heartily recommend you seeing her live or renting her shows if you have yet to see her!

Her warm up act was a gay rapper, Lisp. He and the woman who rapped with him were wicked funny. I especially loved their song about fag hags.

Protesting with Slurpies

The Constitutional Convention protest was lack luster this time. First, Equal Marriage was #20 on the docket of questions the Legislators were considering. At the end of the day, they had not even come close to our issue. In addition, we were not allowed to protest inside the State House; we could outdoors on the street. The opponents to Equal Marriage were on the other side of the street. They chanted to drums and tambourines. We did not have any clear leaders leading the chanting/singing throughout much of the day. Finally, it wasn’t as pressing an issue as it was last time. The protest just wasn’t as heated or impassioned as previous protests at the State House. I really did not feel like I was making a difference standing there, chanting. The sense of urgency and necessity were missing, so much that my protest friend and I went to 7-11 and got slurpies in mid-morning because it was wicked hot, a scorcher, and we were melting.

The other side had many interesting signs. One of the signs I loved said “No Special Rights for Sodomites.” Don’t they realize that gay men are not the only ones who engage in sodomy? I have had so many female friends whose boyfriends ask them to do anal sex. And what is anal sex but sodomy? Another sign I particularly enjoyed said “What About Our Rights.” Now tell me, for I could have missed something, how are heterosexual marriage rights impacted by Equal Marriage? I mean seriously, get a grip! Another fun thing I watched was this woman who was holding a sign with a man and a woman drawn on it. As she chanted “One man, one woman, let the people vote,” she would point to the drawings as if to illustrate her point to very young children. But my very favorite thing the other side did was fly a big red balloon that said “Jesus is Lord.” Now if that does not scream “Don’t take me seriously,” I don’t know what does.

At previous protests, the religious anti-gay epitaphs took a toll on me. I would leave there feeling my spirituality slightly shaken and my heart so heavy. This time, the other side was much tamer and not so hateful. But the presence of all the GLBT and supporting religious leaders had a fortifying presence on me. I spoke with the priest who married AJWP and I as well as a fierce ally from a Worcester church near our home. I am heartened by the many allies and brave GLBT people who came to the protest. We stayed into the evening when the other side left as the oppressive heat turned to downpours.

The fact they did not get to Equal Marriage was good because it was put off the debate until after the November elections. That gives us time to get the people who do not support Equal Marriage, like my representative, out of office.

Madonna

There is so much to say about the past week. I don’t really know where to start. Since Canada asked how Madonna was, I will start there. Basically, she was fantastic. Here is what I loved.

The horse theme at the start was crazy but oh so Madonna-ish with the B&D references.

Her show would piss off pretty much any religion and world leader. I liked her political and social justice messages throughout the show. She used four different screens to project images on to go with each song, not counting the two screens of the live performance for those who were way in the back. It was like being live in a video on TV.

I especially LOVED it when she was tied to a crystal cross, wore a crown of thorns, and sang “Live to Tell.”

Her dancers were crazy good! They were wicked athletic and did a lot of acrobatic stuff. Then they danced on roller skates! Madonna danced throughout the show. She would be singing, then she would dance for a few minutes, and then start singing again and was not breathy or even breathing hard. She is wicked flexible and in her 40’s. I especially liked the pole dance to “Like a Virgin.”

She sang many of her old hits like “La Isla Bonita,” “Lucky Star,” “Erotic,” “Music,” “Ray of Light,” and “Drowned World.” Madonna played guitar and electric guitar on a couple of songs. She was hot with her electric guitar! My knees go shaky for women with electric guitars!

Fight the Power

The Constitutional Convention is today. The Massachusetts Legislature will be deciding whether to have the citizens of the commonwealth to vote on same-sex marriage. I took the day off to go protest. Last year, AJWP and I were there for each Constitutional Convention for 10-14 hours, singing patriotic songs, holding signs, being interviewed, and standing nose to nose with those who use religion as a weapon against us.

I was talking to AJWP about it the other day. I pondered the necessity of protesting when it feels like the lawmakers have already made up their minds. She reminded me that by being there, they have to look us in the eye as they strip our rights away from us. It is a powerful thing to do, making your presence known to the lawmakers and witnessing these events. I will not idly stand aside as they strip away marriage rights.

As I have talked with my straight friends about LGBT rights and our experiences protesting, I feel a slight disconnect. Everyone is so very supportive. You have written letters, sent our NPR stories to your Senators and Representatives, commiserated over our bad Representative, etc. But I felt there were not the words to explain what it is like to stand up and demand your rights which you have witnessed everyone else having but were barred from until May 17, 2004. Then I saw this quote and understood.

"None who have always been free can understand the terrible fascinating power of the hope of freedom to those who are not free." Pearl S. Buck

My Week

This week is going to be a crazy one.

Monday-Madonna Concert at 8 PM. They were giving away free tickets at work last week and I was quick enough to answer the email in time to get two! This should be fun!!

Tuesday-1 intern at work. Parenting class for adoption at 6 PM.

Wednesday - No work cause I will be at the Constitutional Convention at the State House all day and night.

Thursday - 2 interns at work. Hurry home to go to Margaret Cho show in Northampton, MA! I got two tickets as my wife's birthday present this year. She had to wait since May to go to the show. I am so excited for this!!!

Friday-2 interns at work. Go home and pass out from exhaustion.

More American Insanity

This is one of many reasons I am not proud to be an American. And what is worse is that he gets away with it and many people probubly agree with it.

United States of Jesus Land

Have you seen this? I cannot even comment on the myraid of things wrong here without my head exploding all over my computer terminal. What the fuck is going on in my country?

Random Kindness on the T

On the Red Line last week, the driver said, "Please take all your belongings with you as you leave the train, including your bags, papers, trash, kids, dogs, and cats. Please be sure to take everything you brought with you except your bad day. Leave your bad day on the train and everybody have a good day."

On the Green Line B Train, I was trying to get off a very packed car; the Red Sox were playing. I was still trying to get to the door when it started closing. A man I never met before reached out and grabbed the door. He held it open for me as I finished plowing through the crowd and exited the train.

Uncle Sam

I was recently taking a cab in Boston and the driver was wicked chatty. Just before he dropped me off, he said "Uncle Sam is not my uncle. You know that, right?"

"I guess," I said warily.

"Well, I mean, he doesn't come to my birthday party," he replied.

Sadly, I had arrived at my stop and could not find out what the hell he was talking about.

Happy 4th of July!

The Excitement is Growing

I haven’t written a lot about our adoption process or my thoughts on becoming a mother. There have been a few posts on my fears but I haven’t shared much of my process with you, my gentle readers.

Lately, the excitement for our upcoming adoption is growing. Being a future parent has sunk in and I am beginning to anticipate it. I notice this mostly at work. One of the nurses’ lounges has a board where various staff members have posted pictures of their children, from the newly born to the teenagers. I was looking at it the other day and really enjoyed the pictures, for the first time. I am not sure why of this shift. Is it from the expectation of becoming a parent? Or did I cut my self off from celebrating the parenthood of my friends and peers because I did not thing I could be a parent and now that I am going to be a parent, I am allowing myself to be open to this portion of my friends and peers lives?

Another way I am experiencing the excitement is in telling my coworkers that we are going to adopt. I am speaking more and more freely about it. And everyone has been incredibly supportive and happy for me. My coworkers ask me frequently about where we are in the process and how I am doing with the wait. I find myself talking about it with more and more excitement and anticipation. This is something I really want.

Finally, a baby at work was being taken from her mother’s custody. I have worked with children in this situation for many, many years so it is nothing new to me. But this time, it was different. The baby would look at me and reach to me anytime she saw me. I would look into her dark eyes, at her round cheeks, and her little hands and feel an unfamiliar surge of emotions. I found my heart aching to have her placed with AJWP and I. I am so unaccustomed to feeling like this; I did not tell AJWP about it until after the child went home because I was so startled by my feelings.

So, I guess I am getting ready to be a parent.

Beach Trip

We went to the beach yesterday. We haven't gone in over two years. It was so wonderful and familiar to sit on the beach, dig my feet into the sand, listen to and watch the surf go in and out, smell the salty air, and bask in the glorious sunshine. The beach makes all the other intolerable stuff about Massachusetts bearable.