So there I was being so funny and cool as usual (shut up! I am to funny!) and sending out text messages about how my sister Kelly and I were staying at THE PALMS for the weekend. About to hang out with Flo-Rida, Diddy and 50 Cent (by hang out, I mean wait for hours in the sun driving up a $180 bar tab until Slo-Rida decided to grace us with his presence for 30 minutes). We were TOTALLY Rock Stars! Unfortunately...the auto correct on my phone decided we were rocketeers instead. FAIL! It was fun saying that we were partying like Rocketeers all weekend..eventually all the cool kids were doing it.
Although there was an unfortunate crotch incident that occurred (thankfully to Kelly and not so much me)..let me just explain it this way...a young woman decided to stand and dance where Kelly was sitting and Kelly dared not inhale too strongly in fear of catching a whiff of her lady parts (did you just sniff? what is THAT about!) You can imagine, what with all the sweating in the sun.. and I think she was European (not ur a peein!). Those were some really fun 30 minutes though...looking at that hot piece of man muscle! Flo-Rida not the female European.. WOW!
Our rocketeering continued on later that evening at the Playboy Club and Moon (Diddy wasn't worth $150 per person..just sayin) and drinks were had, food was eaten, and two beautiful sisters went home without incident! Whew...
And then...the pain rained down upon me as if a burning hot poker were being held to my flesh (I kind of feel like I have the authority on what the fires of hell will feel like). That crazy bitch sister of mine got me into a tattoo shop and my stupid ass thought..sure ok! I watched her get one..didn't seem so bad..and since I had always wanted a tattoo and said I would get one if I ever could commit to one thing..and I had recently thought of a cool quote I would like..then apparently the fires of hell aligned perfectly for me to fulfill this masochistic experience. Fucking Shakespeare with all your smug and witty verbiage. "To thine own self be true" my foot! literally on my foot. FYI...it hurts THAT bad. Kelly and the tattooed ink master were all chatty chat chattin about her cold feet as he was inking her ankle..he mentioned she should put on a foot sweater! HAHAHAHA foot sweater. How funny right?!?! Where I come from we call it a sock.. but hey.. to each his own!
Later that night at Ghostbar...Sis decided she was gonna tear da club up! Hell yes...there were 3 bouncers involved. Because my little sister can get a little out of hand in a big way. (snicker, snicker, snort...you go sissy!) OK..before my mother calls and asks if she got arrested..here's the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Sitting there minding our own damn business and trying to get cute pictures of ourselves on our phones so we could post them on Facebook..(hence proof of how cool we are!) her purse, not zipped, fell toward the back of the couch and her driver's license fell down between the crack of the cushions. 3 burly bouncers had to come and disassemble the damn couch so she could get it back... yep...totally Rocketeers.
The next day at our own little pool party (no the burnt flesh was not in the sun or the pool!) was good times starting off at noon with a pitcher of mojitos (or after 3 pitchers what I liked to call Mo-G- toes!)
The escapades of one very confidant woman I'll just call the mermaid on crack were thoroughly enjoyable. Picture that slow motion Christy Brinkley hair shake on a 45 year old black woman coming out of the pool, with a short blond fro. And you can bet your sweet ass she had her swagger on...the kick of her hips when she walked almost made her look like her legs were different lengths. RE DICK U LUSS! oh...and she was with the DJ or so she told anyone who looked in her general direction as it's hard to tell if you're making eye contact with someone wearing sunglasses! oh funny funny times. Our catch phrase..."Whatch yo name is shawty!" That's "What is your name short girl" in an urban dialect that I haven't quite placed yet. Kelly left early for reasons I can only presume were related to me drinking 3 pitchers of mo g toes! I doubled up on the milk thistle so there was not even a lick of a hangover! Which is totally how a rocketeer parties.
The shenanigans were even more fun when Robin and her two long time friends showed up.. They were super fun and it's great being single and partying with married women...as they are always trying to hook you up with hot men. Well..by hot..you know I am starting to question Robin's opinion of me. In Santa Monica there were the questionable German dudes (not attractive but totally fun) and then this weekend some old man named Arthur? or Arnold? ugh..really Robin? You think we would've been good together...I might have to take you off my man hunt duties. Less beer gut and gray hair and more within 10 years of my own age. Please and thank you! wink wink.
Dear Yahweh,
What's up shawty?!?! I write to you in full confession of the greed, gluttony, and whatever the names of all the 7 deadly dwarfs are, that I participated freely and willingly in each one. Feel free to text me and I'll get you on the guest list the next time you're in town. Your faithful servant, Brooke.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
April 5, 2012
So there I was......sitting on a stack of cushions listening to The Guru speak about spirituality. It was myself and one other young woman who I will only call..The Tart. Seriously..who wears a black lace shirt to hear someone speak about the mysteries of the universe? Who? I'll tell you...The Tart. I digress.. so at this juncture in my life I have basically buried the crazy Naturopath in to the back recesses of my mind and decided that my quest will continue. Which leads us back to the stack of cushions, The Guru, and The Tart. He's exactly what you are picturing. White linen pants, long white linen shirt, a simple long brown beaded necklace, barefoot and just shy of waist long straight gray hair. Oh yeah..I was totally feeling the vibe. Vibe, incense overdose...whatever. He's very interesting. "All that is, is all there ever was and all there will ever be." Pretty straight forward stuff. I think he was dumbing it down for you know who.. but, I can't really be sure. He talked about things and as he would say something, I would naturally think in my mind (where else right?) of a comment or maybe a question. Which he would then respond to. I swear this guy was reading my mind. SWEAR. Which was a thought I eventually had while sitting on that cushion. It went something like this----"Wow, he's totally reading my mind. Amazing. Thank God I'm not thinking about his penis. OH SHIT, now he knows I'm thinking about his penis. I have to stop thinking, penis. Shit. The more I try not to think about it.. the more I'm.. fuck..don't visualize it! Shit. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. penis. marrily marrily marrily marrily whew no penis, life is but a dream." Yep. Who's the Tart now? Needless to say, eye contact was a bit tricky afterwards.
Is it just me? Does any of this happen to other people? I'm sure it must. I mean come on. I'm sure The Guru has been in many a meditation and known exactly who passed a silent "all that was for lunch" fart. I'm certain. Hell he could probably tell what the main course was.
Do they have homes for people like me? Maybe home is not the right word. I think the word I'm looking for is institution.
Let's change the subject before anyone gets any ideas.
April 14th is the 100 year Anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic and I have been invited to a "Titanic" party. Yes, a costume is required. They will be handing out cards that tells whether you were in steerage, first class, etc. My take on the whole thing is that there is no damn way I'm putting on a long skirt, high collared shirt and some ridiculously offensive hat. But..I don't want to be a party pooper, so I will go dressed in all white- as, wait for it, the iceberg! bwaahhhahahahaha. I just kill me! This is important because later in the evening I have a 40th birthday party to go to and at least I can go out in public in all white and no one will think anything of it. Then again this is Vegas and if I had some early 1900's get up on people might give me money to take a picture with me. Hmm...a thought to consider.
Dear All That Is- I know it's been awhile since we've chatted. You've been especially kind to me lately and I would like to express my gratitude. I know with my recent breakup that I might have some karma coming at me and I'm ready for anything you throw at me. Not like that whole "penis" incident. That totally took me by surprise. Well played on that one by the way. So thanks for your gifts and glory, and The Hunger Games. Katniss totally rocks. Your faithful servant, Brooke aka The Tart.
Is it just me? Does any of this happen to other people? I'm sure it must. I mean come on. I'm sure The Guru has been in many a meditation and known exactly who passed a silent "all that was for lunch" fart. I'm certain. Hell he could probably tell what the main course was.
Do they have homes for people like me? Maybe home is not the right word. I think the word I'm looking for is institution.
Let's change the subject before anyone gets any ideas.
April 14th is the 100 year Anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic and I have been invited to a "Titanic" party. Yes, a costume is required. They will be handing out cards that tells whether you were in steerage, first class, etc. My take on the whole thing is that there is no damn way I'm putting on a long skirt, high collared shirt and some ridiculously offensive hat. But..I don't want to be a party pooper, so I will go dressed in all white- as, wait for it, the iceberg! bwaahhhahahahaha. I just kill me! This is important because later in the evening I have a 40th birthday party to go to and at least I can go out in public in all white and no one will think anything of it. Then again this is Vegas and if I had some early 1900's get up on people might give me money to take a picture with me. Hmm...a thought to consider.
Dear All That Is- I know it's been awhile since we've chatted. You've been especially kind to me lately and I would like to express my gratitude. I know with my recent breakup that I might have some karma coming at me and I'm ready for anything you throw at me. Not like that whole "penis" incident. That totally took me by surprise. Well played on that one by the way. So thanks for your gifts and glory, and The Hunger Games. Katniss totally rocks. Your faithful servant, Brooke aka The Tart.
Friday, January 6, 2012
January 6, 2012
So there I was, YELLING at my patient...."HOLD YOUR HORSES!!!" at midnight, in an Intensive Care Unit. The cause for this I have narrowed down to 6 possible reasons: a) He's a total and complete asshole who barks ridiculous orders every 2.36 seconds b) my last nerve got ran over by some bitch in an Escalade
c) the nursing profession might not have been the best choice for me d) Karma is rearing its ugly head and I am apparently going to be a Dung Beetle in my next life e) my tank of compassion and caring ran out a long time ago and the price to refuel is too high f) all of the above and possibly PMS.
Now, let's consider reason a) for a minute. This man was 300 pounds and 5'6", could barely hold up his own arm and continually wanted ME to stand HIM up. HIM the not so much a brick shit house but more like a pizza dough port-a-potty kind of guy (without the warm dough smell thank Christ!) who could allow toddlers to use his enormous gut (read: FUCKING HUGE) as a trampoline. A seriously good reason I propose. Nevertheless, b) does have some merit because I swear that Walmart pipes in "crazy" into the air vents and each shopping experience takes 15.8 years off of some one's ability to cope with ridiculousness. So, valid by any one's definition. Reason c) holds water although for the last 15 years as a nurse, 80% of the time I have been able to control my shit, but still 20% of dealing with customer service and wiping ass tends to take a toll. It's looking to be a very tight race here. d) in an effort to not piss off the Karma gods, I will say that I deserve to be a Dung Beetle and will solemnly swear to do it with grace and compassion. Now e) reasoning tells us that attitude and care really are things that should come to us when we see others in need, feel strong emotion and empathy- I say forget about it.. when you put on a happy face and bounce around like there's sunshine coming out of your ass for years and years, one should be allowed a bad day. I will attempt to refuel my care and compassion tanks while listening to Sarah Mclachlan sing for those sad, abused, neglected animals. Oh..and the commercials for the kids with flies around their faces. As you can see, all reasons are valid so..F) U win..!
You know who else I would like to tell to hold their horses? Jillian Michaels. Sure I would like to be "Ripped in 30" but you bantering on about "GET SOME" only makes me want to claw your eyes out with a pitchfork. Really...Get some of what exactly? A torn ACL, a jacked up rotator cuff?? I'm getting as good as I can with my wimpy arms, non-existent core, and buddha belly thank you very much. So keep your nonsensical phrases (and I dare say sexual innuendo) to yourself.
Dear Elohim, I recognize that attitude is a choice and that in essence what we think, we are. So forgive me for lacking in the "grin and bear it" category. All things considered, I don't think I'm a bad person, I just think I have an incredibly accurate "bullshit" detector and must respond accordingly. BUT, if you could bestow on me an ever increasing amount of compassion, I would greatly appreciate it. Your faithful servant, Brooke "who wants to get some pizza?" Albertson
c) the nursing profession might not have been the best choice for me d) Karma is rearing its ugly head and I am apparently going to be a Dung Beetle in my next life e) my tank of compassion and caring ran out a long time ago and the price to refuel is too high f) all of the above and possibly PMS.
Now, let's consider reason a) for a minute. This man was 300 pounds and 5'6", could barely hold up his own arm and continually wanted ME to stand HIM up. HIM the not so much a brick shit house but more like a pizza dough port-a-potty kind of guy (without the warm dough smell thank Christ!) who could allow toddlers to use his enormous gut (read: FUCKING HUGE) as a trampoline. A seriously good reason I propose. Nevertheless, b) does have some merit because I swear that Walmart pipes in "crazy" into the air vents and each shopping experience takes 15.8 years off of some one's ability to cope with ridiculousness. So, valid by any one's definition. Reason c) holds water although for the last 15 years as a nurse, 80% of the time I have been able to control my shit, but still 20% of dealing with customer service and wiping ass tends to take a toll. It's looking to be a very tight race here. d) in an effort to not piss off the Karma gods, I will say that I deserve to be a Dung Beetle and will solemnly swear to do it with grace and compassion. Now e) reasoning tells us that attitude and care really are things that should come to us when we see others in need, feel strong emotion and empathy- I say forget about it.. when you put on a happy face and bounce around like there's sunshine coming out of your ass for years and years, one should be allowed a bad day. I will attempt to refuel my care and compassion tanks while listening to Sarah Mclachlan sing for those sad, abused, neglected animals. Oh..and the commercials for the kids with flies around their faces. As you can see, all reasons are valid so..F) U win..!
You know who else I would like to tell to hold their horses? Jillian Michaels. Sure I would like to be "Ripped in 30" but you bantering on about "GET SOME" only makes me want to claw your eyes out with a pitchfork. Really...Get some of what exactly? A torn ACL, a jacked up rotator cuff?? I'm getting as good as I can with my wimpy arms, non-existent core, and buddha belly thank you very much. So keep your nonsensical phrases (and I dare say sexual innuendo) to yourself.
Dear Elohim, I recognize that attitude is a choice and that in essence what we think, we are. So forgive me for lacking in the "grin and bear it" category. All things considered, I don't think I'm a bad person, I just think I have an incredibly accurate "bullshit" detector and must respond accordingly. BUT, if you could bestow on me an ever increasing amount of compassion, I would greatly appreciate it. Your faithful servant, Brooke "who wants to get some pizza?" Albertson
Friday, December 23, 2011
December 23, 2011
So there I was...in Walmart...during this holiday shopping season, which tells you right there that I am just askin for it. I really thought that I had the appropriate mind set. You know..holiday cheer, patience with the people, and low expectations for any type of speed at the check out. Needless to say the mind set I ended up with was "Do NOT ram that woman with your cart... or this fat man riding the Walmart scooter taking up the whole frickin aisle." The apathy exuded by the check out person was palpable (really I don't know if it was a man or a woman- more like a slug morphed into the body of a hemaphrodite with the pleasant attitude of a Nazi war criminal). Seriously..there should be warning labels on the doors of Walmart. Enter at your own risk...sanity left in parking lot (and even that's a stretch...my life has flashed in front of my eyes more than once trying to navigate out of that damn place...backing out of parking spots should be an Olympic sport..really Miss Fancy Pants in your big white Escalade, you're going to SPEED UP as I try and back out?) Give me a break people. I love the $9.98 red sweater I got at Walmart, but I'm pretty sure I don't need to spend $2000 in car repair bills because you were in a hurry to find a parking spot near the front door just to get a bargain. And what is the purpose of the greeter? I don't find them all that pleasant, what with their judgmental up and down stare of what?? the fact that my clothes don't have holes in them, that my pants aren't riding up the crack of my ass, that I'm not smuggling in an AK-47 to blow all ya'll to pieces?? Greet this granny!
It's no wonder Amazon got a ton of my business this year. Not that I actually bought any Christmas gifts at Walmart.. I mean it is the one store that my family in Indiana has access to, I don't want to risk duplicates! But there are times when venturing into Walmart is a necessary evil.
I have to stop thinking about it because it's beyond irritating to think that this very line of thinking is only feeding into the negative cog that exists in the Walmart world. The low expectations and disgruntled workers will continue to be so when irritated and annoyed shoppers continue to shop there. And really isn't this true of most things? Our perceptions and expectations really shape our reality. I think the key to real, honest happiness is to embrace the fact that we are not entitled to a hassle free, off without a hitch shopping experience. Or dining experience. Or flight experience. Customer service?!?! Hell.. it barely exists anymore. We are to be grateful and smitten with the very existence of commerce and freedoms like travel and Starbuck's drive thrus, regardless of how unpleasant these transactions are that delivers these goods into our eager hands.
Wait. Fuck that. Customer Service is and should be a priority for any business. We work hard for the money we make, just like all of the workers in the industries providing these goods and services. No one is entitled, but everyone deserves respect. Respect for other people's time, money and personal space. That means you little Miss Escalade huffing and puffing in line with your 25 items when the line is clearly marked as 20 items or less. That also means you Mr. Harvard trained doctor with an ego the size of Texas, knock before you enter a patient's room, whose door is closed because they are sitting on the bedside commode shitting their brains out. We can all be better about being respectful of the people we share this planet with. Our co-workers, our neighbors, our friends and family, and yes the fat guy on the scooter, and bitchy Escalade chick all deserve respect - because it's their planet too.
Dear Buddha- I know that Christmas is all for the glory of Jesus Christ, and for the awesome score of gifts we all get in celebration of his birth (did I get that right?) But I would humbly ask for your influence on my ever shortening fuse this holiday season, so that I may not end up on the evening news for T-boning the bitch in the Escalade in the Walmart parking lot. Your faithful servant, Brooke "sorry I called her a bitch" Albertson
It's no wonder Amazon got a ton of my business this year. Not that I actually bought any Christmas gifts at Walmart.. I mean it is the one store that my family in Indiana has access to, I don't want to risk duplicates! But there are times when venturing into Walmart is a necessary evil.
I have to stop thinking about it because it's beyond irritating to think that this very line of thinking is only feeding into the negative cog that exists in the Walmart world. The low expectations and disgruntled workers will continue to be so when irritated and annoyed shoppers continue to shop there. And really isn't this true of most things? Our perceptions and expectations really shape our reality. I think the key to real, honest happiness is to embrace the fact that we are not entitled to a hassle free, off without a hitch shopping experience. Or dining experience. Or flight experience. Customer service?!?! Hell.. it barely exists anymore. We are to be grateful and smitten with the very existence of commerce and freedoms like travel and Starbuck's drive thrus, regardless of how unpleasant these transactions are that delivers these goods into our eager hands.
Wait. Fuck that. Customer Service is and should be a priority for any business. We work hard for the money we make, just like all of the workers in the industries providing these goods and services. No one is entitled, but everyone deserves respect. Respect for other people's time, money and personal space. That means you little Miss Escalade huffing and puffing in line with your 25 items when the line is clearly marked as 20 items or less. That also means you Mr. Harvard trained doctor with an ego the size of Texas, knock before you enter a patient's room, whose door is closed because they are sitting on the bedside commode shitting their brains out. We can all be better about being respectful of the people we share this planet with. Our co-workers, our neighbors, our friends and family, and yes the fat guy on the scooter, and bitchy Escalade chick all deserve respect - because it's their planet too.
Dear Buddha- I know that Christmas is all for the glory of Jesus Christ, and for the awesome score of gifts we all get in celebration of his birth (did I get that right?) But I would humbly ask for your influence on my ever shortening fuse this holiday season, so that I may not end up on the evening news for T-boning the bitch in the Escalade in the Walmart parking lot. Your faithful servant, Brooke "sorry I called her a bitch" Albertson
Friday, November 11, 2011
November 10, 2011
So there I was ...putting the cash from my wallet into the console of my car because I was thinking that if I go in this place I could be murdered, raped, and robbed. If that's gonna happen--they're gonna have to look for this measly $100. OK...back story...I was at Pura Vida, a vegetarian cafe over the weekend- they were having a little street festival with health conscious vendors. The usual stuff..yoga studios, chiropractic practices, granola distributors and on and on..The pamphlets on animal cruelty brought tears to my eyes. HORRENDOUS! My good friend Suzanne had stopped eating chicken after she watched a television special on how they were mass produced and the horrible treatment and deaths they went through. I understand completely..and I was only reading a little color brochure. It is appalling. If you own any kind of pet and love their company then you should seriously educate yourself on the practices of mass producing meat. Not only that, ask yourself...why is your dog's life any different from a cow, chicken or pig?
There was a woman with a booth on hand analysis (read: science based palm reading). She was lovely. We had a very nice chat and I told her that I would come see her. She was intelligent, well spoken, charismatic..things I like in people. So when I pulled up to the address she gave me...parking my car in a former tennis court..next to an old van that probably hasn't seen the road in 10 years...I was more than skeptical, I was freaked the fuck out. I contemplated the situation. Put my cash in the console, pulled my spider senses more into focus and went in...all the while remembering my assaultive behavior class from last month and cursing at myself for not wearing "get away" shoes. Ok..I might be a little dramatic at the moment.
I walked through the gate and looked at the house. Something..some THING was starting to make sense. This is not so much a retreat for hippies (and hopefully not rapists and murderers) type of place but a place of gathering for naturalists. Apparently inside the courtyard of the big house was a community neighborhood organic garden. The trees outside weren't so much as unkempt..they just weren't "landscaped". No stubby short round bushes of indeterminate variety here. There was more ease in my step. The sign on the door explained the garden and the owner of the house and said come in quietly, take your shoes off (OH NO! NOT MY NON-GETAWAY SHOES!). I looked through the patio door windows and it looked empty. Hmmm...I was early. I went in. Took off my shoes. I was greeted by a pitbull.
Insert underwear change here.
He sized me up, shaked his butt and sniffed my shoes and I swear he smiled at me. So I patted his head and I'm happy to report that I have all my body parts. "Angel" is a beautiful dog, incredibly loving. Very sweet.
Yes... I realize fully that every action I have taken up to this point is completely insane. I know you're thinking.. Who DOES THAT! At multiple points I could've been the highlight of the 11 o'clock news. There was just a sixth sense, a feeling in my gut, that I wasn't in any danger, that I was just experiencing something for the first time. Cut away from the visual cues (things that society has sort of embedded into my brain) there was really nothing to be afraid of. I was only inside for about a minute before Annabella came in. She seemed surprised that I was inside. I said..well the note on the door said to come in. So I did.
Here are some of the highlights-I have Air hands- indicative of many, many reincarnations. This lifetime, based on some numerology type stuff, is about trusting my inner voice and my intuitive mind and bringing my spiritual consciousness alive. I have a "Mystic Cross" meaning a skepticism concerning spirituality and that I want information and truth, not blind faith.On my destiny line there is a Writer's Fork and from looking she said I was a writer in a past life as well as, oddly enough, a healer. Not only does this indicate creativity through writing she said, it also indicates that my subconscious wants to write down a map of my life (kind of spot on if you ask me). I have a very large money triangle and money should not stress me out because I'm going to be making plenty of it. I have a large triangle of triumph meaning that as I age I will be overcoming health issues. I have a loss of a loved one coming but it won't be detrimental to my path. I have had what she calls emotional confusion in my early life and I'm learning to trust my intuition (how very true since I was sitting there at that very moment because of my intuition). She said that I have a strong connection with someone with a different "background" (she added the footnote- race or culture) and that this connection is actually a reunion from a past life and that it is very favorable. All the while, we talked about events and karma..of the sense of being lost because I haven't really had the spiritual guidance I needed to grow. I will be changing careers soon and it will be very positive and very successful. She sees 2 pregnancies in the near future. Her biggest worries were that I wasn't spiritually fulfilled and that I am not using my creativity. She said that I need to write. (this is not the first person to tell me this). I apparently have a psychic line which indicates that my inner voice has an ability to guide me. That if I opened myself up to it, I would be able to connect with those who have passed on. YAY! Now I can see dead people too! That'll be fun!
I'm really glad I went. As you know I'm on a bit of a "vision quest" of healing and health..and I've spent 35 years just being willy nilly about damn near everything. I've been reading a lot. Joining meetup groups on meditation, veganism, yoga and travel..No stone left unturned.
Dear Buddha,
Hi. I don't think we've been formally introduced. To be honest I know VERY little about you. I mean, I saw his Holiness the Dali Lama speak in Boston. I don't remember a damn thing except I couldn't understand anything he said. If you don't mind...I'm gonna do some research on you..see what's cookin. I know I'm a pretty big fan of yours..I mean..we have the same belly- that's gotta mean something right? If you could be so kind as to be patient with me..I'm new at this. :-) Warm Regards, Brooke
There was a woman with a booth on hand analysis (read: science based palm reading). She was lovely. We had a very nice chat and I told her that I would come see her. She was intelligent, well spoken, charismatic..things I like in people. So when I pulled up to the address she gave me...parking my car in a former tennis court..next to an old van that probably hasn't seen the road in 10 years...I was more than skeptical, I was freaked the fuck out. I contemplated the situation. Put my cash in the console, pulled my spider senses more into focus and went in...all the while remembering my assaultive behavior class from last month and cursing at myself for not wearing "get away" shoes. Ok..I might be a little dramatic at the moment.
I walked through the gate and looked at the house. Something..some THING was starting to make sense. This is not so much a retreat for hippies (and hopefully not rapists and murderers) type of place but a place of gathering for naturalists. Apparently inside the courtyard of the big house was a community neighborhood organic garden. The trees outside weren't so much as unkempt..they just weren't "landscaped". No stubby short round bushes of indeterminate variety here. There was more ease in my step. The sign on the door explained the garden and the owner of the house and said come in quietly, take your shoes off (OH NO! NOT MY NON-GETAWAY SHOES!). I looked through the patio door windows and it looked empty. Hmmm...I was early. I went in. Took off my shoes. I was greeted by a pitbull.
Insert underwear change here.
He sized me up, shaked his butt and sniffed my shoes and I swear he smiled at me. So I patted his head and I'm happy to report that I have all my body parts. "Angel" is a beautiful dog, incredibly loving. Very sweet.
Yes... I realize fully that every action I have taken up to this point is completely insane. I know you're thinking.. Who DOES THAT! At multiple points I could've been the highlight of the 11 o'clock news. There was just a sixth sense, a feeling in my gut, that I wasn't in any danger, that I was just experiencing something for the first time. Cut away from the visual cues (things that society has sort of embedded into my brain) there was really nothing to be afraid of. I was only inside for about a minute before Annabella came in. She seemed surprised that I was inside. I said..well the note on the door said to come in. So I did.
Here are some of the highlights-I have Air hands- indicative of many, many reincarnations. This lifetime, based on some numerology type stuff, is about trusting my inner voice and my intuitive mind and bringing my spiritual consciousness alive. I have a "Mystic Cross" meaning a skepticism concerning spirituality and that I want information and truth, not blind faith.On my destiny line there is a Writer's Fork and from looking she said I was a writer in a past life as well as, oddly enough, a healer. Not only does this indicate creativity through writing she said, it also indicates that my subconscious wants to write down a map of my life (kind of spot on if you ask me). I have a very large money triangle and money should not stress me out because I'm going to be making plenty of it. I have a large triangle of triumph meaning that as I age I will be overcoming health issues. I have a loss of a loved one coming but it won't be detrimental to my path. I have had what she calls emotional confusion in my early life and I'm learning to trust my intuition (how very true since I was sitting there at that very moment because of my intuition). She said that I have a strong connection with someone with a different "background" (she added the footnote- race or culture) and that this connection is actually a reunion from a past life and that it is very favorable. All the while, we talked about events and karma..of the sense of being lost because I haven't really had the spiritual guidance I needed to grow. I will be changing careers soon and it will be very positive and very successful. She sees 2 pregnancies in the near future. Her biggest worries were that I wasn't spiritually fulfilled and that I am not using my creativity. She said that I need to write. (this is not the first person to tell me this). I apparently have a psychic line which indicates that my inner voice has an ability to guide me. That if I opened myself up to it, I would be able to connect with those who have passed on. YAY! Now I can see dead people too! That'll be fun!
I'm really glad I went. As you know I'm on a bit of a "vision quest" of healing and health..and I've spent 35 years just being willy nilly about damn near everything. I've been reading a lot. Joining meetup groups on meditation, veganism, yoga and travel..No stone left unturned.
Dear Buddha,
Hi. I don't think we've been formally introduced. To be honest I know VERY little about you. I mean, I saw his Holiness the Dali Lama speak in Boston. I don't remember a damn thing except I couldn't understand anything he said. If you don't mind...I'm gonna do some research on you..see what's cookin. I know I'm a pretty big fan of yours..I mean..we have the same belly- that's gotta mean something right? If you could be so kind as to be patient with me..I'm new at this. :-) Warm Regards, Brooke
Sunday, October 30, 2011
October 30, 2011
Let me start from the beginning...I feel that my judgment should at least be well informed.
Imagine waking up after 12 hours in bed, most of it sleeping, and feeling like it was merely a cat nap. Your body heavy, your mind sluggish. You drink some caffeine to get going, diet of course because really..who wants to drink those extra calories. The dog goes out for her bathroom break and life continues in a state of what you have decided is "getting older". Everyone feels like this to some extent. Exercise is attempted only to bring a different level of exhaustion. Body aches. Headaches. Aches are fine. Aches are NOT scary. It's the "aging process". Stabbing abdominal pain... that is scary. Doctor Wonderful orders me to not eat spicy food and stop with the caffeine (how the hell am I going to stay awake without caffeine?). When I go back he orders a pill. In the meantime I am so distraught with the very nature of my health. Starting to realize that this is not just an "aging" process. My fatigue was addressed by ordering basic lab tests by Dr. Wonderful. They came back normal and therefore the investigation was stopped. Every aspect of my life was becoming affected. I gave up and decided it was just my "depression" playing physical tricks on me. The Psychiatrist ordered another pill. So now on sleeping pills, pain pills, muscle relaxants, anti-depressant, birth control pills (because seriously- how could I muster the energy to take care of a child), antacids, vitamins, and high doses of B-12 to get any little energy kick possible. I have an entire reusable grocery bag full of pill bottles and supplements to help me feel better, all the while feeling like I was putting more than one foot in the grave.
I stopped the diet pepsi cold turkey and started weeding meat out of my diet. I went to Indiana to visit.
What a visit that was. My sister and my Mom had gone to an event with this psychic medium a month prior and arranged for all of us to meet with him in a more intimate setting. This guy really DOES see dead people. As sure as I am that the sky is blue and that there are "psychics" who read right into your wallet, this guy was for real. I will lay down my life (what little is left of it!) and tell you that we are surrounded by our loved ones that have passed on and that there is something greater in store for us. Riding on the complete mind bend of our visit with Rick, the seeing dead guy...I was a little less skeptical of John the Amish guy who reads your iris to look for health problems. It's called iridology, there are books on this people, and I can't make this stuff up. John looked into my eye and his first "diagnosis" was that I had a hiatal hernia (your stomach gets pulled up through your diaphragm-something it isn't supposed to do), I had a foot and knee issue, an acidic system, and gravely, at the end of our little "office visit" -(read: pole barn on a farm) he said there was something wrong with my breast. He made me promise that I would get it looked in to. I know..it's bizarre.
So once back in Vegas, and still having abdominal pain but now feeling happier about it do to the anti-depressant, I went back to Dr. Wonderful and he FINALLY ordered an upper GI study. As an after thought I asked if he would order a baseline mammogram, just in case. He obliged and I was beginning to think I wouldn't burn him at the stake after all. I was on my new "vegetarian" - no soda diet and feeling very "granola" shopping at Whole Foods. Just being in that store makes me want to burn incense and braid my hair. I picked up a book "The Beginner's Guide to Natural Living" by Larry Cook. I figured if I'm going to overhaul my life I might as well do it up right! (except no Tom's toothpaste...yuck). After blowing through the book in like 2 days, I decided to investigate the local naturopathic doctors. There was one recommended by the American Association of Naturopaths. I went with him. I really felt like there was some truth behind the idea that our western medicine is keeping us ill. Pill after pill with no relief in sight.
Dr. S. was sweeping his sidewalk when I arrived for my appointment. He brought me in and gave me the usual questionnaire to fill out. He looked over the answers, asked some fairly vague questions and looked at the normal lab results I brought in. He had me sit on his exam table and said something about blah blah kinesiology and had me hold out my arms straight in front of me with my fingers interlaced. He asked me to resist his attempt to push my arms down, and I did (I mean, he is kind of old, it wasn't that daunting of a task) and I could keep my arms up, he was pushing pretty hard though. He talked about the electromagnetic force of our bodies and how our bodies and everything on this planet really has a flow of energy. When the "force" combines with something it will either make it stronger or weaker, due to the electromagnetism or something, I didn't quite get what he was saying. To demonstrate he had me hold a pill bottle in my hand and for the life of me I can't remember what it said on the side. I held the bottle between my hands and interlaced my fingers again. He asked me to resist against him, but this time I could not. My arms fell away like a rag doll. The bottle wasn't heavy or anything. At this point I was wishing I had paid closer attention to what he had been saying. He said that the body doesn't want to "hold on" to things it doesn't need. That when something weakens the system it would be extremely hard for me to resist against his force. And if a substance strengthens me and my system, then he could jump up and down and find it hard to overcome my resistance. He then began touching with his fingertips various spots on my body..energy channels that correspond to the different organs. I would hold out my arms and he would touch a channel with one hand and with the other he would attempt to push down my arms. If a certain channel was weak (due to disease, injury, whatever) my arms would fall away again like a rag doll. With each spot he would say something like- "Your lungs are good. You have two leaking heart valves. Kidneys are good. Spleen good. You have a hiatal hernia (just like the Amish guy said!) Liver is good. Problem with your right ovary. Uterus is good (that's what HE said!) and on and on. When he got to my right breast, my arms fell away and he asked what was wrong with my breast. I said I didn't know. He said "it's probably a cyst or something, we'll find out". All the while, the exotic receptionist-medical assistant was taking notes.
He sat me up and began pulling down bottles from the wall of bottled remedies. Remember..if I held something in my hand that my body is strengthened by he would be unable to push my arms down, and vice versa. He had remedies for Multiple Sclerosis, lyme disease, heavy metals, cancer, diabetes, kidney disease..everything you can imagine. So we went through every bottle. The bottles that contained something that made me stronger were set to one side. Treatment for Multiple Sclerosis- I didn't need that. Cancer treatment- 5-7 bottles of different cancer treatments made me stronger. My body was showing an affinity, a need, for that remedy. Shit. fuck damn. We stopped and talked about it. "Do you have a lump?" he asked. No. I mean..of course..a million lumps and bumps. Nothing that has ever stood out. "Well." and he tilted his chin down and looked at me over his glasses. "I think what's going on in your breast might be malignant." I exhaled. he encouraged me to not worry because we were going to take care of it. (Oh...don't worry. Ok). Then, he started turning a few of the bottles around so I could read the labels. angio-something (stops the growth of blood vessels to the site of the cancer) and so on it went, and then there was one for Parkinson's Disease. What the hell? He asked Miss Exotic to pull out one of the questionnares I had answered. There was a Parkinson's questionnare. I had one symptom. We talked briefly about the fact that I also had an affinity for the treatment of Parkinson's. I had the flashing vision of being a one boobed twitching drooling mess. Fanfuckingtastic.
This bottle holding, arm resisting went on for 2 hours. Then he began ordering lab tests. Radiology tests. We would get confirmation the good old fashioned Western way.
The diagnostic mammogram was negative as well as the ultrasound of the breast. Yay! Other tests are pending. Some tests I had to go to Dr. Wonderful for and he basically patted me on the head and prescribed another anti-depressant. There there young lady...just take this pill and it will be all better.
so---what's better? what path to choose? Who to give my business to? My health? My life?
I'm frustrated. I'm disgusted. But what I do know is that I want to minimize the toxins and poisons going in my body. Aspartame toxicity? Very much so. Cancer? Parkinsons? I guess I'll have to just take that a day at a time.
Martini's aren't bad for us are they???
Imagine waking up after 12 hours in bed, most of it sleeping, and feeling like it was merely a cat nap. Your body heavy, your mind sluggish. You drink some caffeine to get going, diet of course because really..who wants to drink those extra calories. The dog goes out for her bathroom break and life continues in a state of what you have decided is "getting older". Everyone feels like this to some extent. Exercise is attempted only to bring a different level of exhaustion. Body aches. Headaches. Aches are fine. Aches are NOT scary. It's the "aging process". Stabbing abdominal pain... that is scary. Doctor Wonderful orders me to not eat spicy food and stop with the caffeine (how the hell am I going to stay awake without caffeine?). When I go back he orders a pill. In the meantime I am so distraught with the very nature of my health. Starting to realize that this is not just an "aging" process. My fatigue was addressed by ordering basic lab tests by Dr. Wonderful. They came back normal and therefore the investigation was stopped. Every aspect of my life was becoming affected. I gave up and decided it was just my "depression" playing physical tricks on me. The Psychiatrist ordered another pill. So now on sleeping pills, pain pills, muscle relaxants, anti-depressant, birth control pills (because seriously- how could I muster the energy to take care of a child), antacids, vitamins, and high doses of B-12 to get any little energy kick possible. I have an entire reusable grocery bag full of pill bottles and supplements to help me feel better, all the while feeling like I was putting more than one foot in the grave.
I stopped the diet pepsi cold turkey and started weeding meat out of my diet. I went to Indiana to visit.
What a visit that was. My sister and my Mom had gone to an event with this psychic medium a month prior and arranged for all of us to meet with him in a more intimate setting. This guy really DOES see dead people. As sure as I am that the sky is blue and that there are "psychics" who read right into your wallet, this guy was for real. I will lay down my life (what little is left of it!) and tell you that we are surrounded by our loved ones that have passed on and that there is something greater in store for us. Riding on the complete mind bend of our visit with Rick, the seeing dead guy...I was a little less skeptical of John the Amish guy who reads your iris to look for health problems. It's called iridology, there are books on this people, and I can't make this stuff up. John looked into my eye and his first "diagnosis" was that I had a hiatal hernia (your stomach gets pulled up through your diaphragm-something it isn't supposed to do), I had a foot and knee issue, an acidic system, and gravely, at the end of our little "office visit" -(read: pole barn on a farm) he said there was something wrong with my breast. He made me promise that I would get it looked in to. I know..it's bizarre.
So once back in Vegas, and still having abdominal pain but now feeling happier about it do to the anti-depressant, I went back to Dr. Wonderful and he FINALLY ordered an upper GI study. As an after thought I asked if he would order a baseline mammogram, just in case. He obliged and I was beginning to think I wouldn't burn him at the stake after all. I was on my new "vegetarian" - no soda diet and feeling very "granola" shopping at Whole Foods. Just being in that store makes me want to burn incense and braid my hair. I picked up a book "The Beginner's Guide to Natural Living" by Larry Cook. I figured if I'm going to overhaul my life I might as well do it up right! (except no Tom's toothpaste...yuck). After blowing through the book in like 2 days, I decided to investigate the local naturopathic doctors. There was one recommended by the American Association of Naturopaths. I went with him. I really felt like there was some truth behind the idea that our western medicine is keeping us ill. Pill after pill with no relief in sight.
Dr. S. was sweeping his sidewalk when I arrived for my appointment. He brought me in and gave me the usual questionnaire to fill out. He looked over the answers, asked some fairly vague questions and looked at the normal lab results I brought in. He had me sit on his exam table and said something about blah blah kinesiology and had me hold out my arms straight in front of me with my fingers interlaced. He asked me to resist his attempt to push my arms down, and I did (I mean, he is kind of old, it wasn't that daunting of a task) and I could keep my arms up, he was pushing pretty hard though. He talked about the electromagnetic force of our bodies and how our bodies and everything on this planet really has a flow of energy. When the "force" combines with something it will either make it stronger or weaker, due to the electromagnetism or something, I didn't quite get what he was saying. To demonstrate he had me hold a pill bottle in my hand and for the life of me I can't remember what it said on the side. I held the bottle between my hands and interlaced my fingers again. He asked me to resist against him, but this time I could not. My arms fell away like a rag doll. The bottle wasn't heavy or anything. At this point I was wishing I had paid closer attention to what he had been saying. He said that the body doesn't want to "hold on" to things it doesn't need. That when something weakens the system it would be extremely hard for me to resist against his force. And if a substance strengthens me and my system, then he could jump up and down and find it hard to overcome my resistance. He then began touching with his fingertips various spots on my body..energy channels that correspond to the different organs. I would hold out my arms and he would touch a channel with one hand and with the other he would attempt to push down my arms. If a certain channel was weak (due to disease, injury, whatever) my arms would fall away again like a rag doll. With each spot he would say something like- "Your lungs are good. You have two leaking heart valves. Kidneys are good. Spleen good. You have a hiatal hernia (just like the Amish guy said!) Liver is good. Problem with your right ovary. Uterus is good (that's what HE said!) and on and on. When he got to my right breast, my arms fell away and he asked what was wrong with my breast. I said I didn't know. He said "it's probably a cyst or something, we'll find out". All the while, the exotic receptionist-medical assistant was taking notes.
He sat me up and began pulling down bottles from the wall of bottled remedies. Remember..if I held something in my hand that my body is strengthened by he would be unable to push my arms down, and vice versa. He had remedies for Multiple Sclerosis, lyme disease, heavy metals, cancer, diabetes, kidney disease..everything you can imagine. So we went through every bottle. The bottles that contained something that made me stronger were set to one side. Treatment for Multiple Sclerosis- I didn't need that. Cancer treatment- 5-7 bottles of different cancer treatments made me stronger. My body was showing an affinity, a need, for that remedy. Shit. fuck damn. We stopped and talked about it. "Do you have a lump?" he asked. No. I mean..of course..a million lumps and bumps. Nothing that has ever stood out. "Well." and he tilted his chin down and looked at me over his glasses. "I think what's going on in your breast might be malignant." I exhaled. he encouraged me to not worry because we were going to take care of it. (Oh...don't worry. Ok). Then, he started turning a few of the bottles around so I could read the labels. angio-something (stops the growth of blood vessels to the site of the cancer) and so on it went, and then there was one for Parkinson's Disease. What the hell? He asked Miss Exotic to pull out one of the questionnares I had answered. There was a Parkinson's questionnare. I had one symptom. We talked briefly about the fact that I also had an affinity for the treatment of Parkinson's. I had the flashing vision of being a one boobed twitching drooling mess. Fanfuckingtastic.
This bottle holding, arm resisting went on for 2 hours. Then he began ordering lab tests. Radiology tests. We would get confirmation the good old fashioned Western way.
The diagnostic mammogram was negative as well as the ultrasound of the breast. Yay! Other tests are pending. Some tests I had to go to Dr. Wonderful for and he basically patted me on the head and prescribed another anti-depressant. There there young lady...just take this pill and it will be all better.
so---what's better? what path to choose? Who to give my business to? My health? My life?
I'm frustrated. I'm disgusted. But what I do know is that I want to minimize the toxins and poisons going in my body. Aspartame toxicity? Very much so. Cancer? Parkinsons? I guess I'll have to just take that a day at a time.
Martini's aren't bad for us are they???
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
October 16, 2011
So there I was...in a lovely blue hospital gown...drinking barium (read chalkletmilk) preparing for some "live exrays". My health has really become a problem. The stabbing stomach pains that go unrelenting for hours, no tums, maalox or apple cider vinegar could touch. Lortab and ambien is the only combination I found to make it better. My first week of a vegetarian diet has been completed. No more diet sodas. That was not a misprint. I'm off the diet pepsi. But I am a long way from feeling better. during the exam the barium lights up black in my colon and the doc had to literally rearrange my internal parts with a paddle board to see what he needed to see. The words "this isn't supposed to be here" being pointed to a shadowy black smudge on the screen were helpful in lowering my stress level, NOT. But the words- your report will be sent to your doctor in about 5-7 business days- did induce an amount of annoyance with the system that would be better handled in a women's prison. I've made an executive decision. If medications offered to me do NOT FIX THE PROBLEM but only take care of the symptom..I'm not interested. We've got big government and bigger business fucking up the food we eat, the soil we grow it in, and then not disclosing these atrocities. All the while the American public is living in the sick cycle of death. Clogged arteries? We'll bypass them. Stroked out, we'll rehab them. What about HEALTH CARE THAT CARES FOR HEALTH , not the endless search for solutions. Help us be healthy....STOP POISONING OUR FOODS, TREATING OUR WATER WITH FLUORIDE. I wouldn't get so sick if the food provided to the average American wasn't loaded with genetically modified organisms, antibiotics, stress hormones, pesticides..and the medical conglomerate's big fix is throw in more pills and antibiotics while the dance continues. We're paying to be kept ill. I for one refuse to do it anymore. I have health care concerns. Potentially life threatening issues....It's time to put the theory to the test. The body will heal itself if given the proper tools. I am seeking the help of a Naturopathic MD. I hope to document it here, to educate, to form a community that knows there needs to be a shift in the way healthcare is practiced today. Or potentially disprove the whole food supplements, chiropractic treatments, organic diet. I guess we'll see.
Dear Allah,
Could you please instill a conscience into the "machine of illness" that make and dispense products for human consumption. And could the smart minds in our doctors across this country realize that cure is what we need. Not..stay sick, but not feel it with this pill.
Starting week two of my vegetarian lifestyle.
Dear Allah,
Could you please instill a conscience into the "machine of illness" that make and dispense products for human consumption. And could the smart minds in our doctors across this country realize that cure is what we need. Not..stay sick, but not feel it with this pill.
Starting week two of my vegetarian lifestyle.
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