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By Becky, on  January 26th, 2012 It’s been one of those weeks, when my brain just can’t muster up enough functionality to string together enough words to form coherent thoughts let alone a entertaining brilliant blog post. Lucky for me, my camera can produce some pretty amazing shit without much thought.
Brian gave me this ring for Valentine’s Day a couple of years ago. The relationship didn’t last. The ring? Still has it’s uses. Some days I sit there with the morning light streaming in my front windows, creating some amazing lighting for some beautiful photos.
I bought these bracelets from Charlotte Russe for $1.49 at Christmas. Cute, cheap, costume bangles. They were on clearance, but when set in the morning sunlight, they look so much more impressive than they are. In fact, I posted this on my Flickr account and Lotus Carroll (Who’s photography I have admired for months now) favorited it. I was beside myself with OMG!
I was digging around in a friend’s basement this past weekend (that is not an euphemism for anything) when I came across an old ball and glove. Sure, it’s only January, but spring training will be starting in just a few short months. I got a nice surprise today, when I saw that Lotus Carroll had favorited this one on Flickr too.
Sometimes the things you drive by every single day take on an entirely different look when you see them through the lens of your camera. I drive by this antique store in our small town, at least once a day without giving it a second thought. But when taking photos for a theme (frames) I saw the simple words framed over the store front.
Again, looking at every day ordinary things through the lens of a camera can turn a simple drop or two of water from a kitchen faucet into something incredibly beautiful, and really kinda cool.
By Becky, on January 18th, 2012 There’s a new drug on the streets.
Pinterest.
It’s the heroin of the internet.
It’s like Fantasy Football for girls.
It’s the adult version of a Fairy God Mother.
Or maybe it’s just Horders for the Internet.
I am a bit of a shoe whore. Christian Louboutin? My god. My unemployment doesn’t allow me to own a pair of Louboutins. Pinterest does. Dozens of pairs of Louboutins. Louboutins I have nowhere to wear in real life.
I’ll never own my own house. I’m perfectly content with renting and letting someone else worry about the maintenance and repairs. Pinterest, though, allows me to ‘collect’ my dream home. The awesome shower with the color changing heat sensitive tiles, the winding staircase coupled with a spiral slide, the library that is three stories tall, with walls of windows overlooking the bay. (I live in Mo. Pinterest doesn’t care)
Pinterest allows me to wear fabulous clothes, on a rocking body, with perfect makeup, wearing smokin Louboutins, as I host a classy cocktail party in my stylish eat-your-heart-out house on the bay. All the glorious food and drinks I made myself and Emeril is jealous. Or so I’ve heard.
Some things I have learned from Pinterest and reasons why you should become addicted join right now.
- There are some people out there who are more seriously in love with Harry Potter than I am. It makes me feel like less of a freak.
- I now know, that if money were no object I would overdose on shoes. Clearly.
- Even though I will never get married again, I can still dream about the perfect dress, pick out the gorgeous ring, and find the most fabulous shoes.
- There are a lot of people out there with a lot of time on their hands and a lot of crafty stuff laying around the house. Also? Probably no kids.
- That this pin of mine, sparked a debate that garnered 85 comments, and lasted almost an entire month. People are passionate.
- There is something out there for everyone.
- I will never be as crafty or talented as a third of the people on Pinterest. I’m ok with that. I can just ‘window shop’.
- I have no idea how this even came about. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know. I’m sure there were promises made that shall never be spoken of again.
- If you need a pick me up, Pinterest has it. If you need some inspiration, Pinterest has it. If you need some motivation, Pinterest has it. If you need a good laugh… Pinterest has it.
If you need an invite, let me know in the comments. You’ll thank me later. Much later. You know, like when you come up for food.
By Becky, on January 17th, 2012  I have made it no secret around here that I love me some Carrie Bradshaw. I own Seasons 1-4 of Sex and the City, oh and The Movie. (Not SatC 2, nobody owns SatC 2). I love Carrie and the girls.
I just finished Season 4, Episode 13, The Good Fight. (Which, you know, is probably way more detail than any of you needed, but I like to be thorough). The underlying theme of this particular episode is “When it comes to relationships, what are we fighting for?” Aiden is moving in with Carrie, and Carrie is learning to share her space, and her life, and adjust to Aiden, and it’s awkward and crowded and messy and he doesn’t understand her relationship with shoes and clothes, and she doesn’t understand why he doesn’t understand. And she just kept agreeing and being gracious and moving her stuff, and giving up more room, and accommodating, and resenting, and fuming and felt taken advantage of.
And all she had to do was speak up, Hey, Buddy, can you do me a favor? I’m new to this living together, I’m new to sharing my space, my life, can you give me some space and time? Please. Of course he did, and she discovered that once she voiced her need, got it met, it wasn’t really a need anymore.
I watched it on my laptop, ear buds in, tears silently streaming down my face. How long have I silently swallowed my unease, how long have I bit my tongue, how long have I given and given and given and resented and felt taken advantage of and used and cheated because I didn’t open my mouth and ask for what I needed or wanted? Far far too long.
Recently I’ve done some work for some people, who have asked for favors. Write a cover letter, takes some photos, make a graphic, nothing earth shattering but favors that I have the talent and the skill to complete better than they could. An hour here, a couple of hours there, really not a great big deal. Except that, yeah, it is, to me. See that cover letter, those photos, that graphic? That’s my time, my skill, my talent and maybe someday my career. I put a part of myself in everything I do. My words, my vision, my style, a piece of me. I created those things.
I didn’t get credit for any of it. The letter went on to get several responses that garnered some business opportunities, the photos are on the internet and hanging in homes for friends and family to see and admire, the graphic is on a webpage. My name? Appears on none of them. None. The very people telling me I should charge for my services, are the very people who expect me to give them away to them, for free. I’m not talking monetary reimbursement. I just want credit for my work. I want my name to appear on the photos I took, the things I write, the things I create. I want my talents and skills to be acknowledged.
Watching Carrie and Aiden tonight I realized I’m done giving it all away for free. The words, the photos, the work, the pieces of me. Even in my personal relationships, the favors, the sex, the attention, the pieces of me. I’m done giving that away for free too. I’m done feeling taken advantage of, I’m tired of not getting any credit for all that I do. I’m tired of giving it away and getting nothing in return.
I have needs, I have wants, and none of them will be met if I don’t voice them, if I don’t speak up and say I need this in return.
By Becky, on January 16th, 2012  Tim Tebow. The newest face of Christianity.
Let’s face it, he’s a better representative of the religion than Christianity has had in the past. Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, and Oral Roberts.
Ok, let me get this straight. Tim Tebow takes a knee on occasion, during a football game. Never on the field, never interfering with the game. And people all across the country get their panties in wad. Sounds reasonable to me.
Fuck.
And the only reason it’s a big deal? Is because the media has made it a big deal. I am sure he is not the only member of the NFL to say a prayer or two or ten during a football game. He just happens to be a QB that wins. Would people have their panties in wad if it was one of the Manning Brothers? Or Brett Favre? (Now that’s a man who needs some Divine Intervention).
Back in November, Nick Novak, kicker for the San Diego Chargers, was caught on camera urinating on the sidelines. He was taking a leak, he whipped it out and watered the astro turf. And you want to be offended Tebow says a prayer. Get the fuck over yourselves.
Frankly I am tired of saying it, but say it again I must. You are guaranteed a whole lot of things in The Constitution and The Bill of Rights, but the right to not be offended is not one of them. People are going to do things that offend you. Tim Tebow’s taking the knee and saying a prayer? His Constitutional Right. I have not heard any reports that Tebow has stopped a game and grabbed a mic and asked the entire stadium to bow their heads in prayer with him. I do not think he went to the press and asked for this coverage. Kudos to him for defending his faith. Kudos to him for saying “Yes I believe in God The Father, and in Jesus Christ and I am not ashamed.”
I am not going to get all preachy here. It’s not my thing. It’s more my dad’s thing, or at least it used to be. I just want to say a few things.
- There is a song that says “His eye is on the Sparrow, so I know he watches me”. If God can care about all of his living creatures, including sparrows, I’m sure he has time for Tim Tebow. If you want to tell me God can’t be bothered with touchdowns, do you also tell your kids you don’t have time for their activities? To Tebow, it’s the same thing.
- I’m willing to bet he did not actively seek out this attention from the media about his religious beliefs. This is a story the media jumped on and now it’s become a divider of people.
- For once there is an NFL player who has made the news for something besides drugs, guns, alcohol, or an arrest. You all should be glad he’s setting a good example.
- He’s not bashing you for your beliefs, why bash him for his?
I could go on about how you high and mighty know he’s praying for God to put everything else in the world aside and give him a touchdown. Is it possible he’s saying Thank You for the ability to play this game? Isn’t it possible that instead of asking for divine intervention for personal gain, he’s offering up thanks for skills and talent and ability. Because clearly giving thanks is a truly heinous and offensive thing to do. The nerve of the man. And isn’t it possible he’s giving thanks for the skills, talent and ability of his entire team instead of being a selfish son-of-a-bitch and just giving thanks for himself? Seriously, WTF is wrong with this man? WTF is he thinking?
By Becky, on January 12th, 2012  For a while it seemed that bipolar disorder was the “It Disorder” for Hollywood. Catherine Zeta Jones came out about her stay in a hospital for it. Carrie Fischer wrote about her struggle with bipolar disorder. One of the most famous celebrities-with-bipolar-disorder would be Patty Duke.
I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in May of 2007, barely two weeks before I packed up my girls and moved here. Where here is 2 hours away from all the family they ever knew and my entire support system. Believe me it sounds so much worse than it has turned out to be.
I am just a few short months away from my five year diagnosis anniversary. I would love to be able to tell you that my life is so much better, in fact more normal, than it was then. But I don’t like to lie. The truth is, while I know a lot about my disorder, and I am hyper aware of mood swings, and I know that no matter how much I love tequila shots, my mood swings don’t. I know enough to make an appointment with my p-doc to change the strength of the medications I’m on. I know enough to take my medications every day. I know enough that some situations and people and places and foods and drinks are all triggers and I’m better off avoiding them.
I know all of this stuff, but I don’t always manage to follow through. Like a smoker knows cigarettes are bad for them, and they light up another one. Or someone on a diet knows donuts are off limits, but they look so good, so they sneak one, just one.
And so it was with the holidays. I knew they would be difficult this year, I just didn’t realize how difficult. I knew Christmas and New Year’s Eve were the big ones, they were looming huge and dark and foreboding on the horizon, and I needed to do something to get through them. I called my p-doc, he tweaked my meds, offered some coping skills that did not include bottles of tequila or Captain Morgan, and some phone numbers, you know, just in case.
I did everything right.
And the holidays? Went all wrong.
I spent Christmas day, at home, alone. I had heard from everyone I was going to hear from by 10:00. The girls were dropped off safely with their dad for the week, and I was home with two in heat very obnoxious attention whore cats. By 6:30 I was feeling incredibly sorry for myself and hating the world outside. And the damn cats. New Year’s Eve, lather, rinse, repeat, with the exception of the addition of sleeping pills and I was in bed by 8:30.
But that week, bookended by those two holidays spent alone, coupled with tweaked meds which always take time to adjust to, triggered a major spiral in moods. I have been all over the place for the past two weeks. Finally the horrors of my holidays are fading, the meds are leveling out and I feel like I’m coming out of a fog. The problem is, there is a lot of debris in my rear view mirror. A lot of things said and done that were less than stellar but felt right and justified at the time.
Welcome to bipolar disorder. When a bad mood is more than a bad mood. When a good day is an epic day, and living in the extreme highs and lows makes it hard to determine what is a reasonable reaction and expectation. So, when you come back down to level ground, you see the mountains were actually molehills, and the epic great day was actually just Tuesday.
I will live with the shame and embarrassment of my extreme actions over the past couple of weeks. I will make apologies for angry texts fired off in the heat of the moment and accusations leveled from jumping to conclusions.
And I will try harder next time.
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