Saturday, June 21, 2008

Worth Adding

You can't blog list anything but this site's blogs, but I HAD to add this one because I have followed it & it is GREAT:
http://www.travelpod.com/members/djchurch

The Hedonic Treadmill

Update number one: I went to doctor yesterday feeling like he was going to laugh at me (I HATE going over any sort of unidentifiable pain, because I don't have insurance and if google can't find it, then my doctor is totally taking my blood. Which costs more.)
Anyway I hadn't slept at ALL the night before- everytime I dozed off, my muscles would get a very very nails on the chalk board sensation. I wanted to rip them out.
So anyway I cried. Because I'm a wreck and I was so sore and GOSH I'm 28 people! My mom has broken at least 4 bones- even her back! She's 57 and running circles around me. Sure, I'm not in perfect health!
So anyway my doctor can't handle tears so it's all very awkward. Regardless I have LYME disease, so on a side not I'd like to take this moment to say, that is just ridiculous. First he saqid I had tick fever, then his dad came in, who treated me for tick fever the last time, and said the bullseye on my leg where I pulled a tick off pointed at lyme disease, so they're just treating me for both. They took my blood with a needle so hollow it was like looking down the barrel of a 12 gauge. So they're supposed to call me next week with all that crap- since he was taking it anyway I told him to check my thyroid and for diabetes and whatever else because I've been working REALLY hard- REALLY! and saw on my chart I'd gained 7 pounds since the last time I was there, about 8 months ago, which is just disgusting. AND he put me on a huge dose of steroids, which means oh yea I WILL gain a few more on these things.
He gave me antibiotics and Mobic and pain pills and it was all very expensive. Please understand it costs almost 500 a month just to add me to our insurance plan, so to me this all means my visit cost about half of that, so we all come out ahead. He did refer me to an orthopedic (or the ortho that handles the bones and all) place for my wrist, which has been KILLING me recently but has hurt like hell for about 6 years. He looked back on my chart and saw I fell around that time but refusedf an xray (I think I was pregnant, if not I probably didnt get one because they aren't free), so he suggested I may have had a hairline fracture then and thats why it still hurts. I bit the bullet and okayed the referral, but now that I'm doped up I'm thinking maybe it's unbearable right now because my entire body is killing me, this craps like the summer flu, so maybe I'll call and ask about cost before going, I mean really, I don't want to break the bank, which a pack of gum is capable of doing as expensive as everything is right now.

Anyway my rant right now is about the Hedonic Treadmill. Here are some pastes:
The tendency for a person's economic expectations and desires to rise at the same rate as his or her income, resulting in no net gain of satisfaction or happiness.

Looking at the data from all over the world, it is clear that, instead of getting happier as they become better off, people get stuck on a "hedonic treadmill": their expectations rise at the same pace as their incomes and the happiness they seek remains constantly just out of reach.—John Lanchester, "Pursuing happiness," The New Yorker, February 27, 2006

Studies show that happiness rises with incomes — up to the point at which basic needs are met, after which it stagnates as aspirations also rise with income. The recent Nobel Prize-winning economist and psychologist Daniel Kahneman calls this a "hedonic treadmill." Like the proverbial rats, we run faster and faster — and so do our aspirations — but the bottom line is the old cliche: Money can't buy happiness.—Andrew L. Yarrow, "Utopia lost," Los Angeles Times, February 25, 2006

"The trouble is, if nice things happen to you, your expectations go up." With no escape from the hedonic treadmill, reducing expectations becomes the key to happiness.—T. Lott, "Happiness: Three academics look for life's biggest secret," Sunday Herald, April 15, 1990

I've noticed recently- well actually this has always been a peeve of mine- that my husband sometimes resembles a hamster in a wheel. He doesn't work harder than everyone else at his job for the money- he doesn't even claim his overtime (I call this ass kissing), he does it for the recogintion that he'll go above and beyond, all in the hope of going higher up. His frequent quote when we have this "debate": "I'm doing this so we don't have to worry about anything one day!"

Since I'm here with the children, I just don't agree. I have a completely different view of this, because I see what it does to HIM, and to the family unit. He's worn out, you can't give 110% at work and then do it at home!
So I was thinking yesterday, after reading an especially informative article in Cosmo while I took my 1200th dump of the day thanks to these antibiotics, about our earlier years.
He made 9 an hour when we bought this house. ALL our bills were paid, we had nothing left over. I worked too but all my income (which was very very little, I only worked part time) went back for us to have a 3 day trip away every year to unwind.
We were incredibly happy.We had no debt. He came home every night and had wrestling matches with his child (and later, children).

Fast Forward. Our income has doubled, and so have our bills. He works harder, we get ahead, and someone else holds their hand out. The ceiling collapses. The wife gets sick. The car needs a fuel pump, you know, L.I.F.E.
Over time work has become priority somehow. Not because he's a jerk, but because it's like life doesn't give you any other option. Have more? Want more! Want more? Need more! Need more? Tough shit!

So right now, he gets up around 6 or 7. He gets to work by 8. He leaves work at 5pm. He drives to school. He is at school 5:30 pm to 11p.m. Come home, bathe, eat, sleep. Do it all again. He came home last night with homework stacked up a foot high- and I am NOT playing, I have got to take a picture.
"WHEN do they expect you to do that?"
"It's amazing! They just expect me to do it. Everybody else in there does it and I don't understand how."
"No, they don't. If they do they don't work full time."
"Yes, they do!"
"NO! WHEN?! Do they sleep? Are you the only one in their who must sleep? Do they ever see their children? When do they get LAID?!!!!"
"Well, they do it, and I don't know if they get laid or not."
There is no way that these kinds of schedules work for any human for any long length of time. He had to be in class at 9 this morning at I woke up at 10:30 and he was asleep beside me. I got him up and he went into panic.
"This is badbadbadbad" EASY for me to say, but I'm like: TELL THE DUDE YOURE EXHAUSTED AND YOUR BODY DEMANDED A LITTLE SLEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
I figure once these classes are over, he'll get this "everything will be easier" promotion. And it won't be enough, so he'll go back to his regular college classes. His boss will go back to making him feel like a turd if he doesn't work overtime when he ISNT in class. Eventually we'll get to the goal: moving, since we need another bedroom. Then what next? What will he have to work toward next?

Anyway I think the theory of the Hedonic Treadmill is worth checking out, because it's true. We all work towards a goal when we DO know it won't make us happy, we'll just find another goal. Meanwhile, the things that are proven to make us happy fly by. Our family, times together, wrestling matches. The little things that you set aside for the big things that don't matter. It sucks when the latest reason to work like a dog causes you to be so focused on it that you miss what really matters. How many years can be cut off a life from being a workaholic?

Anyway, I in no way mean to pick on my husband- he loves us more than anything, it's just his way, but he hasn't realized yet what I'm trying to say. I'm not upset with him or anything, I just feel sorry for him. We would all be much happier if he was still making 9 bucks an hour and we had him here at 5:30 for dinner. We all support him and my kids NEVER complain or guilt trip him, I just wanted to vent about it. In this world, if you're working- whether you have a family or not- it's almost impossible not to get sucked into this way of thinking. I've never ever wanted to be rich, and this is why. I don't know one above income family who has their father home at the same time every night. I'd rather have only our basic needs and my husband here. So I'm going to try to pull myself out of this way of thinking by paying attention to what I do. In other words, I'm going to see how long I can go without eating out or having an expensive coffee. I have to believe that if we made it so well before and were so happy, maybe we don't need these raises and promotions to move, maybe we just need to pay attention to where our money is going and we could still move into a modest house with the 3rd bedroom and be just fine. So I'm going to try to change some things, because honestly, when I'm here with just the kids, we DO go eat out and rent movies and so on. So back to the library movies, back to dinners at home, bored or not, I'll jyst have to teach them how to play Yahtzee.
To end this on a positive note: I am very lucky my husband isn't lazy, because that would be way more of a bummer.

Epicurean Delights

So let me give you a short background on what I'm about to spend a few paragraphs ranting about:

I grew up in a tight circle of friends whom I still keep in touch with. I met this specific group when I was 14. One was my boyfriend. Three more were his very closest friends- boys. The others were one boys' sister, and whoever followed her around- about 2 more girls. Since I was young and my boyfriend (a.k.a. the center of my post pubescent universe) lived in Memphis, this was the first time I was largely unmonitored by my parents, and I spent a great deal of time with these guys. Anyway, eventually I turned 18 and realized my boyfriend was a complete asshole who was never going to change. So I dumped him and a month later I got down and dirty with one of his friends- who might I add, after spending every day for 4 years with, was one of my closest friends also. He was dating another one of the guy friends' sister at the time and had just come out of a relationship with a girl I'd known since K-3, so things got a little crazy in our circle.
So whatever I married him and we had a baby 5 months later (quit adding it up in your head).

Ex-boyfriend went a little crazy and busted my windshield out among other things. I'm happy to say he moved to Oklahoma and straightened up (not really, but he DID get a job) and is doing much better, and we're on much better terms.
So you can see that we were all very close (gosh did everybody in our circle DATE each other at some point?!), outsiders were NOT welcome, and things got a little crazy when I betrayed one and others had no real choice but to kind of...take sides. It's sad to say, but how do you not HAVE to when you're all so close. So everybody basically took my and husband's side.

Ok, fast forward 8.5 years. All friends are married now, a couple have even had their first divorces!
So one of those guy friends aforementioned came by one day. He's a missionary now. And then he tried to have sex with me. I can barely recount this without vomiting. His wife and I, well we've become friends for the benefit of everyone. I actually hated her at first (she tried to do it with my teenage boyfriend- in my BARN- the first time I met her, it was not a good first impression.
Then we were playing with a gun and accidentally shot her in the lip, but that's another story. So friend that shot her- his family got sued by her family, and after all the plastic surgery, I guess he felt bad and married her, so over time we became close and I'm glad we did. First impressions can be so false.
By the way, she did eventually have sex with my boyfriend. But not until after she married my friend and he wasn't my boyfriend anymore, so I didn't have any investment in the situation, except that she was married to friend, BUT he got a blow job in North Korea she didn't know about so I didn't think he was so innocent and plus I don't snitch, it's just not me and it's none of my business.
He got the blow job from the Korean prostitute before he was a missionary. So technically it doesn't count if he's supposed to be a new man and all.

BUT, he REALLY freaked me out when he came over and tried to do it with me. So anyway I told my husband and asked him not to confront because friend's wife has adopted with him and so on and really doesn't have anywhere to GO if she wanted to leave him over it (and what if she wanted to come here?) and also then she would hate me even though I didn't do anything! By the way, after he left that day he called and I did have the forethought to pull out my digital audio recorder and catch him on candid audio. He suggested even over the call that he was by my house twice a week and we could get together. This man just offered me a weekly booty call, oh I hate him now, HOW INSULTING. And I thought maybe he was just being horny and it was all about just that, but then he tried to insult my husband, and THAT is over the line. He's a very bad friend. And may I add, my husband happens to be a VERY loyal person (don't count getting with me- I'm clearly irresistable), so it PISSED me off that he could know someone HIS entire life and they do that to him. Hello, I'm his WIFE.
OK, so that was last summer sometime. So since then I've felt like a bag of dog turds everytime I talk to her. Reasons are listed.
1. Their church pays all of their living expenses.
2. Their church is funding them to go to China (again) as covert missionaries.
3. They're planning to adopt again while they're in China.
4. She's also trying to get pregnant.
5. ALL she ever says is stuff like this:
"I love my husband, he's so trustworthy and I would trust him no matter what and I'm so blessed to have such a strong man of God to lead my family."


So all of that is QUITE disgusting if that same husband has told you he's fine with the quantity of sex but would prefer to put a bag over her head while in the act.

Also, THESE (see above) kind of people- I call it a con artist really, because the church SUPPORTS them because they believe they are doing God's work- DEFINE the bitterness MANY people HAVE towards the church. And it's just not fair. One bad apple can turn an entire world away, you know? Plus I would be SO sick to discover the missionary I give to was behaving this way on the side, and I hate to speak ahead, but I'm not so sure God is involved in whatever he's trying to do if he's doing whatever when nobody's looking.

Anyway so I finally called my pastor because I trust him and knew he'd be honest and he said I should tell his wife and get it off my chest. So he said to write a letter, and I did, but I've known this girl for 14 years and didn't want to mail a LETTER so I went over there and pussed out. I mean her kid was there and it just made me sad.

So what should I do? I could tell her over the phone, mail the letter, or try to get her alone, tell her face to face and leave the letter with her.
P.S.: I'm not scared of her, I could take her anyway if she clicked, but she's just not like that, so don't be concerned for my safety when responding.
HELP! I can't watch her go to China with this jackass under false pretenses of a healthy marriage while he's trying to bang everybody. I can't help but think if he was so bold with me that he hasn't done this before.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Dancing with the Doll Stroller

Background
My arms, wrists, ankles, and legs ache almost constantly now, and I bruise easily. I feel like I'm falling apart.

Story

So last night I used the kids bathroom (number 1, since this is starting to feel like too much info anyway), and out I come, thinking about stuff- life. And there it is. A doll stroller. Did I see it? No. But I felt it. It practically lunged out at me and wrapped my ankles in its grip. So, for better visual. remember I'm just outside the kids' bathroom, which means I'm in a tiny hall with 3 exits. Bathroom door, Living room entryway, and kids' bedroom door.
This was by far one of my more dramatic falls, only being topped by the time I fell backwards from the top step in the backyard with a 90 yr old glass bowl in my hand, knocking myself completely out.
Regardless.
So I'm weaving around like one of those blow up clown things you punch, saying "Oh! Oh!Oh! Oh!" Which translates to,"I've got my balance back! No I don't! Yes I do! No I doooooooon't!!!!"
My feet were completely tied up in the stroller. I tried to kick around and thought I'd composed myself before I went backwards (my back end nothing but dead weight) in a free fall. So, trying to save myself, I caused more damage. I manage to ensure a vine pattern of bruises wrapped around my toes and ankles, all the way to my cankles. There's something that resembles a welp (or welt, depending on who you are) on my thigh/butt (it's all the same at this point) the size of a dollar bill with no skin in the middle. It promises to be a lovely purple by tomorrow. My right shoulder has a spatter of bruises, and my back? Yea, it started hurting yesterday- twisting it in strange directions helped greatly. My wrist? It hurts even worse than usual. So the moral of this story? After a 5 yr old and almost 4 yr old girl spend the day playing, watch your feet. I actually fell INTO the kids' door frame, and landed on top of little army men and disney dress up dolls.
It hurts to sit down on the toilet, seriously.
After I (finally) fell, I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling. I had a moment where I wondered if I died right there, would my "stuff" be showing? (sorry, I had a night gown on.). This gave me the resolve tocover up my rear before I started crying. And I cried awhile. Still no help. Oh screw it, what good does it do to be a damsel in distress when your 140 lb husband, who probably couldn't get you up anyway, is in the backyard talking to his boss. I'd rather get myself up. I was feeling espeically fat at this point anyway. Then I got mad. I got up, threw the stroller (that'll show it!) and went and took it out on my youngest. It WAS technically her fault. "You've got ONe HOUR in the morning to get your stuff UP!!!! I almost KILLED myself!" ........ "Sorry mom." Resignation. She is so cute after all, and surely this wasn't a booby trap. (I have to stop thinking in my mind set, because when I was 5, it WOULD have been a set up). "It's okay, just get it up."
So husband comes in 15 minutes too late to help & asks why I was red all over and why my mascara is running. So I tell him. You know what the man does? "Where is that stroller?" "Uh, I already threw it honey." "WHERE is it?" "In the floor." So he goes and gets it, and throws it...harder. Why does that ALWAYS make me feel better?
Stupid Stroller.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Here we go

In an attempt to say what I really (really really really) think, I'm creating a more private blog. Maybe here I can say what's on my mind when it will offend everyone who knows, or thinks they know - ME.

So, I'm a girl. A woman, I suppose, although that sounds bizarre to me. I'm in my late twenties. I live in the South Eastern United States. Technically that means I should own at least one slave and one Elvis lamp, but you would be wrong to ASSume either. What it really means is that I come from a hard working family, my mother was a sharecropper's daughter, one of nine kids, which means grandaddy bore his own slaves. My daddy was one of 3 children, his father (who DID know Elvis! Now we're getting somewhere!) an airline mechanic, his mother....a mother.

I'm the youngest of two girls. I did grow up surrounded by chickens and we even had a horse. I had a good upbringing, my parents didn't drink, fight, cuss or do drugs, although there was a fair share of disfunction as with all real families, but we made it through those times.
I went to a private school up to junior high when I homeschooled until I discovered it was much more fun to smoke pot and hang out with my friends, at which point I dropped out. No worries! I got my GED eventually.

I married my best friend (or my best friend's boyfriend, but whatever) after getting pregnant at 18. No shotgun, but the judge who officiated WAS incredibly drunk if that counts. We didn't become statistics, we have been married almost 10 years and have a 9 yr old and a 5 yr old. Boy first, girl second, how generic and fun.

Life is good and full of ups and downs. Getting married so young and having a family right away has always caused us to work twice as hard and be one step behind those who did it in the correct order, but we love each other and my marriage is possibly the only thing about life I don't question.

On this blog I will bitch and complain, because that's my humor, and I'm also a bit of a smartass, so remember that if you'll be along for the ride.

I'm surrounded by bizarre friends and family, who all give disfunction a new name, and I can't wait to vent about those episodes here with you. I hope you enjoy as much as I will, getting everything off my chest.