No More Empty Fortune Cookies!

Monday, February 25, 2013

I have a beef with that

Here's the thing. The Wifester is allergic to beef. Honestly allergic. She has anaphylaxis when she ingests it. Trust me, I've seen it. I've had to give her that Epi-shot. It's not pretty. And people die from allergic reactions every day. So beef is out of the picture for her. She chooses not to eat pork because people who are allergic to beef have an increased risk of becoming allergic to pork. So she just avoids both, just to be safe. Me on the other hand, I don't have any allergy to them, and I don't have any religious restrictions. I simply choose not to eat beef or pork. Not that I don't, once every other year or so taste something that has either beef or pork in it, because I will. And I don't go around calling myself a vegetarian, because I'm not. And I don't lecture other people about their meat-eating habits, or make a big deal about it. That's just silly.
Really, I just stay away from beef and pork for two main reasons:

1. Personally, I've seen too many pigs and cows in line at the slaughter house. I've seen what I perceive to be fear, terror, and sadness on their faces. I can't get that out of my mind. And I acknowledge it is simply my own perception. I'm not asking anyone to agree with me or to change their mind to match my own opinion. You are entitled to your opinion, just like I am entitled to mine.

2. Neither beef or pork are the healthiest food sources for a person who has my family's history of heart disease. I'd like to keep my arteries clear, thank you very much.

Now, I'd never harass you for eating that steak or bacon. In fact, I may drool just a bit as you chow. I know, that stuff tastes like heaven in your mouth. I get it. But I, for my health and for my own personal conscience, choose not to eat those foods, at least not on any sort of regular basis. But on that rare occasion, when I push past the guilt and do taste some delectable that someone cooked with either beef or pork, there is always someone to speak up with that contrived, exaggerated tone, like they are simply aghast at the thought of me putting one bite of a dish that contains beef or pork into my mouth. You know, that "Whaaaat?! YOU are eating THAT? You do know it has MEAT in it, don't you?", or "But I thought you were a vegetarian? What happened to that??", or any number of other offensive snide remarks of similar tone.

I hate that. More than hate it, I detest it.

I mean, I'd understand if I was one of those meat-bashing, you-are-disgusting-for-eating-meat kind of douches. But I'm not. Never have been. Not once in my life have I ever acted like I was too good to eat beef or pork. Never once have I acted like I am right and you are wrong about the issue. I keep to myself and mind my own. If someone asks me about it, I tell them what I just outlined above, in items 1 and 2. So really, there is no reason to act as though I am committing some kind of blasphemy or being a hypocrite. I don't know why it even matters to you, what I eat or don't eat. No one goes all nutso about me drinking a tea instead of a coffee every now and again.

I mean, seriously, who the hell cares about those things?

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Of Crock Pots and Baby Dreams

OK, you tell me who does that? Who borrows a crock pot, then returns it dirty, with crusted on chili left in it? WHO?? If you don't know about or have access to or the resources to buy those handy-dandy crock pot liners that are available at most any store that sells zip lock bags and aluminum foil, then at least have the decency to clean up the funk from your chili pot luck at work after your chili has had 8 hours to crust up on the inside of the pot.
I mean, really!

Alright, that's my bitch-n-moan session for the day. 

Happy thoughts. 

Last night I had a dream that I was painting my office to be a nursery. The wifester's mom was here, and she was setting up a crib for us. I was so super excited, and talking about when she gets here, how cute she is, how happy I am...
No, we're not pregnant. It was just a dream. I know why I dreamed it, it was a comment on facebook yesterday that triggered it. Someone I know posted about a new neighbor who offered her 8 week old baby girl to her. She said the new neighbor wasn't even joking. I said send that baby this way! I'll take her!
Can you imagine? What is going through a woman's mind that she would, even in jest, offer to give her 8 week old baby to a stranger? Not just to hold, but GIVE her to them. 
I'm serious. I'd take that baby and give her the best home. The best life. The most love. I'd do everything in my power to make sure that she was one extremely happy little girl who never doubted how very much she was loved.

So, which one of you is willing to give me a baby? 

Friday, February 8, 2013

Progress Isn't Always Something to Cheer

One of my friends from my Retinitis Pigmentosa support group asked me to share the graphic I had made that showed my vision compared to normal vision. It had been almost two years since I made it, so I thought I needed to update it and show what my vision has deteriorated to. It wasn't until I looked at the three images side by side that I really, fully realized the magnitude of the situation. My tunnel has definitely gotten smaller. The floaters and flashing orbs of light are much more intense, and that ever-present spider web like film covers everything I look at.
I have an appointment to see Dr. Elias Traboulsi next week at The Cleveland Clinic. He's one of the top specialists in this country and in the world for R.P. He literally wrote the book, the text book that every school of medicine in this country uses to teach about genetic diseases of the eye. So that's encouraging. At least I'm seeing someone who truly knows something about this thing that is happening to me, to my sight. I should feel encouraged. But I don't. I don't because I know that there is still no cure. I know that at best he will place me on some list to be notified if a cure is ever found. At best he may suggest I try one of the clinical trials. I'll get to be a guinea pig.
I really do try to keep a positive attitude and outlook, but sometimes it is just really hard to do that when you are a visual person, an artist, and your visual world is growing ever darker and farther and farther away.