February 27, 2007

Bangstory Part I

Kristen dared us to reveal our bangs and the problems that go with them.  I loved the idea so much that I went home last night, cracked open some cheap wine and went to work on my bangstory.  Then I realized I should dig into my own hair history and found some recent photos of myself and my luscious locks.

Then I discovered I must be insane to be doing this and I was scared to death about millions of people seeing my horrid photos.  My husband even told me he was going to check me into the Paul Mitchell clinic for hair obsession because I ended up with too many bangs shots.  

Then I thought how fun it would be to post my old school photos, but after drinking the wine I realized I couldn’t operate the scanner very well to uploaded them to flickr. 

So I introduce to you, Part I of my Bangs History.  Or Bangstory.  Part II to follow tomorrow.  Stay tuned. 

 Illustration I - The pull-back poof.

Illustration II - The flat pull-back with loose wispy thingies.

Illustration III - The really cool headband thing that the high school girls wear, plus a little staticky hair, plus no make-up and a really, really dorky smile and expression.

Illustration IV - The Rooster.  It was my attempt to do BIG BANGS like the late 80’s but I’d have to cut my bangs a bit shorter and I don’t want to relive those awful years.  I’ll post photos of those days tomorrow.

Illustration V - The “I Still Know I Can’t Do 90’s Hair” Screaming ’Do from Hell.  Let’s face it, after trying to make my bangs touch the sky, there was no way to undo that shit.  I kind of look like a Peacock on PMS.

Illustration VI - The Full Frontal Bang Attack reminiscent of the mid 90’s.  Normally I’d have had long hair to go with this.

Illustration VII - The side parted barette pull back.  Also known as, “I’m starting to look like my mother in the 70’s look”.

Illustration VIII - The “I’m not doing a damn thing to my hair” look.  Or Cousin It.  Your choice.  The bangs are uneven as I try to grow out the mistake of cutting them in the first place.

Illustration IX - Remembering the ONE AND ONLY DAY my hair looked perfect!

Illustration X - My hair two years ago, when I was thinner and sexier.  Notice the attractive highlights?

Illustration XI - Proof that we all have the same hairstyles, it seems.

Illustration XII - Proof that I look like my mother and my own hairstyle hasn’t evolved much in the last few years.

Illustration XIII - The second only day my hair looked nice.  Oh and I’m drunk here.  I thought it was fitting since getting drunk was how I got into this mess.

February 26, 2007

Blah…Those Oscars…Yeah, They Sucked

I’m skipping Memory Monday this week.  I know…..I’ve missed the last two weeks as well.  But I have good reason.  Or at the very least, I think I have good reason.

I want to discuss bitch about the Academy Awards.  I wasted six hours last night, watching the pre-show specials and the entire awards ceremony.  I say “wasted”, not because I was drinking cheap wine, but because clearly I could have been cleaning out my closet, mopping the kitchen floor or handwashing my undergarments and had more fun.

I’m happy that Martin Scorsese won an Oscar for The Departed.  And I’m glad that Jennifer Hudson finally received the recognition she deserves (take THAT Simon Cowell and the rest of America).

What I’m a little disturbed about was Hollywood’s obsession with Al Gore.  He’s really not that great.  Global Warming is something we should be concerned with, yes, but Gore isn’t the first person to bring this to our attention.

And since when is the Academy Awards a prime time to make ridiculous jokes about Gore’s potential run for President this year?  After the third time Leonardo DiCaprio asked if Gore wanted to “announce anything special”, like a “really important decision”; I’d had enough.

And George Clooney?  Shut up.  So….You’re the sexiest man alive, times two, and that’s about it.  I used to like your films, sexy one, until you decided to make a movie about Joe McCarthy that left out many important facts.

I should have known that Academy Awards would go Politico.  I’m really not surprised.

I was hoping Abbigail Breslin would have won Best Supporting Actress, she is just so adorable and has great talent.

Helen Mirren was amazing as The Queen.  I think that was the highlight of my Oscar night.

Ellen Degeneres is a funny gal, but she kind of bored me after a bit.  The whole vacuuming thing was not that hilarious.

I guess I wasn’t very impressed this year.  I’m not going to apologize for it.  I’m just being honest.

*****Also, I will be attending my first BlogHer conference in July and I’m looking for hotel mates.  I really want to cut the cost down as much as possible because this is my big splurge this year.  I know it’s early, but the hotel list is already up at BlogHer and I am usually a procrastinator when it comes to reserving rooms.  Anyone who is considering sharing a hotel room, please send me an e-mail at thedanafiles@hotmail.com.  I’d rather be early than late! 

February 23, 2007

Doctors Who Fail to Diagnose

Part of my recent absence from blogging the last week, had to do with my physical health.  My period was 3 1/2 weeks late and I knew I wasn’t pregnant, but my doctor insisted I have a blood test done because of my “erratic menstrual history and fertility troubles.”  That’s the nice way he put it.  He really meant to say “because your body is fucked up.”

I’ve always had “female troubles”.  From the first time I got my monthly bill I knew I was headed for problems.  I couldn’t wear a tampon at 12 years old because my grandmother was adamant that I’d never get married because my hymen would be stretched and broken.  I hated wearing those gigantic, diaper-like maxi pads that my mother bought.  They were horrible.  I remember being so paranoid that the thing would slip out of my underpants and down my leg at school.  At 13, in seventh grade, I started using my allowance to buy my own sanitary napkins.

Many years later in college, I finally had the courage to attempt tampons again.  Not to sound disgusting, but I was only able to succeed at the task because I had become somewhat sexually active.  (Mother, if you are reading this, I’m so very sorry.)

At age 19, my period stopped entirely for 19 months.  I went to doctor after doctor, trying to get someone to listen to me.  I wanted someone to address my concerns.  These male physicians looked at me with blank stares, asking ridiculous questions like, “Are you pregnant?”,  “Have you gained weight recently?”,  or “Have you noticed any changes in your health in the last few months?”.  Once I responded with a rude, “Well, whey the fuck do you think I’m here?”

The one female doctor at the clinic was so booked with patients it was a shot in hell that I’d get to see her.

I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS.  I always thought it was a bullshit “disease” that doctors claim isn’t a disease at all, but a condition that often occurs in overweight or obese women.  It causes menstruation to stop, hair to grow in places it isn’t welcome, hormones to act out of whack, migraines that feel like being stuck in a grip vice and infertility.

At age 19, I was 5′5″ tall and weighed 146 pounds.  Only 16 pounds over my “normal weight” according to height and frame.  I remember my body mass index was 24 and my doctor suggested it be 20 or 21.  I think that was the day my body image crisis began and I put on more weight.

Years went by with no help.  There is no cure for PCOS but it “can be controlled with diet and exercise.”  Yep.  Just what a girl 16 pounds overweight wants to hear.

Skipping over various infertility problems during my marriage and the 2 years it took to conceive my son, I recently have been having more problems with my cycles.  My doctor diagnosed me with Mennorhagia or excessive blood loss during menstruation.  It often occurs in women with an iron deficiency or anemia.  My first instict was to drop kick him and ask him if this, too, is another bullshit diagnosis. 

I adore my doctor.  It took me years of switching physicians to finally feel comfortable with him, but I suppose history repeats itself and I’m worried that this isn’t the proper diagnosis.  I’ve been begging him to check my thyroid again.  My last test was in October.  I know that’s the problem. 

I suffer the migraines, I’m always tired, I have screwed up cycles, I never feel rested after sleeping eight hours.  I have difficulty in cold weather and I’m struggling with weight loss.

I’ve read every medical encyclopedia about hypothyroidism and I just know that’s what’s wrong with me.  My doctor however, says my tests don’t indicate a problem.  But, I read that 10% of women suffer from mild hypothyroidism and it is often undetected.  What more can I say to this doctor to get him to listen?

I just don’t get it.  It angers me.  I’m frustrated.  I feel like I’m being ignored.  I feel like he thinks I’m crazy and that if he pretends not to notice I’ll stop bothering him.

Maybe I am crazy.

I’ve done everything he told me to do.  I quit smoking.  I joined Weight Watchers to become healthier and to eat nutrionally.  I joined a gym and I work out 4 days a week.  What more can I do?  Isn’t it up to the physician at some point?

Anyone have any advice?  Do I change doctors again?  Do I bother him non-stop until he does something?  What would you do?

February 21, 2007

Life Is Getting A Little More Calm

After a week of hectic work schedules, a pregnancy scare, two funerals and a sick toddler, I’m finally feeling like things are “normal” again.  Any psychologist would tell me normal is a terrible word to use because it doesn’t exist, but I like to hope I’m close to myself again.

My blood-test from the hospital came back negative meaning I’m not having a second child.  I think I knew this all along, so I never got my hopes up.  I’m actually relieved because I am doing so well on Weight Watchers, and I paid all that money for a gym membership.  I’m not saying I can’t exercise while pregnant, I just don’t think weight loss is such a good thing if one’s expecting.

Dawson had a terrible cold/cough/bronchial thing the last week and he’s been hacking and miserable for days.  I think he’s gradually getting better and I’m so grateful because nothing is more difficult than trying to keep a sick child comfortable.  It really does take up most of my day and night.

A friend from high school’s father passed away last week and I wasn’t able to go to the funeral services, but I managed to send her my condolences and prayers.  I was so sad to learn of this news because her dad was only 52.  Two years older than my father.  It really scared me.  I went into a mini-depression of sorts and I feel so ridiculous about it.  I suppose I still see my parents as young 30 year olds.  I’m nearly 28 myself.  It hit me that my mom and dad are 10-15 years away from retirement, and the reality that they could become ill one day (or even pass away) made me feel like time was slipping away.  I made it my duty to spend the weekend with them.  We all went polka dancing.  I know it’s silly, but I think I needed to do that.

Work has been exceptionally busy.  I have been travelling all over the last few days and I’m finally home to deal with my housework.  Oh yeah, and I remember what my husband looks like.  He really is handsome.

It’s Ash Wednesday and we’re headed off to church.  I just wanted to post a little something to say I’m back and hopefully things won’t be so nuts anymore.

I really miss you all and I’m feeling especially guilty for not being able to read your blogs and post my two cents!  Forgive me?

February 18, 2007

Just To Let You Know I’m Alive

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in nearly a week.  I’m dealing with some chaos in my life.  Things are extremely…..out of control.

I hope to catch up as soon as I can.  I’m going to be out of town the next few days.  I hope every single one of you is well and happy.

Send all your prayers and good ju-ju my way!  Please?