Monthly Archives: April 2007

Post Diatribe

Posted on by
Reply

After that long diatribe on eczema, the water began to clear and over the next couple of days, I didn’t start feeling better, but started feeling like I could really beat this. I’ve started keeping an off site journal because some things are just too personal. The off site journal is a little less literary, but contains suspicions on culprits, times of flare ups and what I’m doing to combat this. The journal has been my biggest aid. Through this, I’ve come to realize that my major flare ups have all been in my apartment and around my cats. I kept them out of the room last night and it was the first uninterrupted sleep I’ve had in a long time. Needless to say, I’m sad about not being able to cuddle with my kitties at night, but I’m happy the eczema seems to be fading. My forehead, in particular, is almost completely clear. I also think the vitamins and apple cider vinegar are finally kicking in. Aside from patches of eczema, the rest of my skin is clear and soft…like I shaved two years of top layer off…not gross like exposed sinews or anything, but like baby soft skin like I had back in the day. It’s also the water and the diet. Who knew those wacky health specialists were actually telling the truth? Diet, supplements, sleep, and water = Great (fucking) skin! And I mean great! Like, not 32 year old great…25 year old great. What a find. I wish I could bottle it and sell it on the black market.

All in all, there are still good days and bad days, but getting a good night’s sleep definitely helps.

A Big House

Posted on by
Reply

When I moved into my current apartment nearly three years ago, I hadn’t ever lived alone. Previously with family, a friend, and then various roommates. Living alone was an experience I needed to help me gain some perspective on my life. The first few months were rough. I was lonely and drank beer to while the hours. After some time, however, I started to like living on my own. Just me and my cats. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. I’d come home to my little place, take off my coat, play with the cats, do whatever, and finally fall asleep. It was nice.

Suddenly, things changed. I met a man that would change my life forever. A man that I got along with, who made me laugh, took care of me, took me places, and loved me like mad. To all those things, I happily did in return. When a year passed, I was happy. Another year and it seemed like things just might stay good forever.  We decided rather early on that we should someday live together. It was only a matter of when and where. We started looking at houses. One came up. It was a dream. The perfect house. We put in a bid and got blown out of the water. We were sad, but we continued to search. It wasn’t easy. See, we were looking for a particular house; a Craftsman. And not just any Craftsman, a big one with plenty of room for two adults, three kids, and two cats. For a while it seemed like no one was selling. Nothing came up for months. If something did come up, it wasn’t big enough, or it was on a bad street. Strangely, there really are bad streets in Pasadena. Who knew? I started to feel like it wasn’t ever going to happen. That perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be. When I received news that the redevelopment of my vintage apartment house was imminent, I realized that it had to happen. Either way, I had to move. Either into a new apartment or in with my boyfriend. We continued to look. Nothing.

I’ve always believed that if you ask for things, if you need them, they come to you. Some say you’re asking God or the Universe. I don’t know how it works, but it seems to work. I asked for a house. I was specific and I asked for the things we needed, even wrote them out on paper. Two weeks later, a hundred year old Craftsman came onto the market.  It was this quirky, grand, home, a stone’s throw from the Rose Bowl. It was on a busy street that hosted event traffic at frequent intervals. Still, there was something about it. Not your typical Craftsman and not designed by anyone particularly famous, it had this charm to it. At first I wasn’t sure I liked it. It was too big. The land itself was gorgeous and lush, but the house needed a few fixes. Years of painted over wood and bad carpet, a couple of tacky bathrooms…mostly however, it was in lovely shape and teeming with charm. Nestled close to the freeway and practically hanging over the Arroyo River bed, it’s in a ritzy neighborhood unlike any I’ve ever called home. Almost too nice, if you ask me. I went to see it twice. By the second time, I was in love.

Needless to say, we put in a bid and after two days of nail biting, we got it. It costs more money than a house should and it means a whole lot more than just moving. There are many things to consider and my life will soon change. It’s a year of change, I guess. It’s a step towards the rest of my life and I’m not sure what that means. My boyfriend and I have a lot to discuss. I’m in shock, I think. My brain is whizzing with questions and plans and ideas. It’s whirling with sentiment and remembrance and fear. I don’t know what it all adds up to and I don’t know why when I asked for a house, two weeks later we got one. I’m worried it’ll change me and I’m worried I might actually like being comfortable. I wonder if this is how Cinderella felt when she moved into the castle. Even though I’ve never slept in cinders, my dumpy apartments in the last 12 years have been rather close. Poverty has been my bohemian middle name for as long as I can recall. To finally have the things I see on the TV…it’s almost too much to comprehend. I really wish I could talk to my dad right now.

Updaytz

Posted on by
1

I should be doing my taxes, but I’m way too excited to think about it. I’ll do them after.

First up, the eczema on my forehead is almost gone! Holy cow! My prodigal forehead is returned! I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. I’d say “ecstatic” is a good word, but I’m a little too tired for that much effort. Various other parts of my body are also improving. Don’t ask me what I’m doing, cause I don’t know. Could be all the weeks of vitamins have finally built up or the water or the lotions or the…wait…it rubs the lotion on it’s skin or the crocheting or I’ve finally calmed down enough. Whatever. It’s going away and I’m jazzed as all get out.

Secondly, I can’t remember if I mentioned it or not, but my boyfriend and I are looking at a house. No, we’ve bid on a house. Sure it’s his money, but it’s going to be our house.  My boyfriend makes about a gagillian more than I do, so…yeah, that’s how it’s working out. I’ll contribute and stuff…but anyway, the bid is on. I’ll have more as things progress. Let me just tell you, this house is way better than your house and way better than your mom’s house. All I can say is that my dad would be pleased as punch. He’d be so happy for me and that makes me happy.

As I was driving home tonight, the wheel cover on someone’s jeep read “Life is Good”. As I passed it on the freeway I thought “Yeah, it kind of does”.  Perhaps the joy of possibly finding a house is what’s making the eczema go away. Who knows?

Anyway, it’s all good.  Happy, but still sad. Missing my dad, I almost started crying on the drive home. I stopped myself and I don’t know why I’m sucking it up. Perhaps I don’t want to rain tears on my parade. I should go see my dad’s plot tomorrow and tell him the good news.

Eczema the Extreme

Posted on by
Reply

When I was in Albuquerque watching my father die, I began developing itchy skin. I figured it was the dry New Mexico air, but when I came home, slowly but surely, it developed into full-blown eczema. I saw a doctor, but it wasn’t that bad and he told me it was ingrown hairs. I argued that it was eczema and he stood firm that it wasn’t. Seeing as doctors only want to prescribe treatments for the symptoms, not the causes, I need to find my own cure. They say there isn’t a cure for eczema…I’m going to prove them wrong or at least give it one hell of a try. At the very least, I will find what works and get control of it. Over the last few months, I’ve been struggling with various products and methods to no avail.

In the last 10 years or so, I’ve always had these itchy little pustules on my fingers. They were unnoticeable and they came and went like the wind. I paid them no mind. Through research, I’ve discovered they have always been eczema. My mother gets them too. Therefore, genetically inclined to this condition, always sort of having it, and due to the stress of loosing my dad, I’ve become eczema girl. It’s gross and embarrassing and uncomfortable. Why then would I write about it? Partly, writing eases my troubled mind and I’d also like to act as a reference point for others who suffer as I do. I’m sharing my journey because I think it’s going to help me and if it helps others? Bonus. I know I’m not alone in this.

I’ve also created a sub-category called “Skin Conditions” for easy navigation. You don’t have read about my boring life if you don’t want to. Just skip to the fascinating skin ailments.

I have eczema on various parts of my body. Unfortunately, each location seems to be reacting differently to each treatment. I’ve tried everything from Vitamin E oil, oatmeal lotion, Jergens lotion, coconut oil, olive oil, flax seed oil, *Vaseline, witch hazel, cortisone, anti-itch cream, lanolin, and diaper rash cream. I’m currently on a daily regimen of 8 glasses of water (more or less), multi-vitamin, Vitamin E capsule, herbal skin supplement (which consists of yellow root, burdock, milk thistle and other helpful herbs), and Vitamin C. I’ve cut out dairy, soy, wheat, pasta, and sugar from my diet. The diet part is the hardest. This morning I had eggs, buttered toast, and processed sugar in my coffee because I was desperate for it. I’m not convinced diet is a culprit, but it can’t hurt. Besides, those things aren’t that great for me anyway. Cutting them out is, in general, a good idea. Too bad about the soy thing though. What shall I do without my soy lattes? I shouldn’t be smoking, staying up late, or drinking coffee, but these are not factors I’m ready to remove…not just yet. I shudder to think of the possibility.

Since I started all of this, I haven’t gotten better. In fact, it appears I’ve gotten worse. I read somewhere that scratching makes it spread. This may be why my back and forehead are freaking out. It was also super windy the other night — which dried my skin out. Scratching is almost impossible to stop. I itch like a mother-fucker. Sometimes I just have to scratch or at least give it a good rub. I know it’s bad, but it’s really hard not to.

Tonight I’m trying wet wrap therapy on my forehead. The basic idea is that you soak the skin in warm water and bath oil, rub lotion on the affected skin, and then wrap in a wet bandage. Seeing as I don’t have a bath tub or bandages, here’s what I did:

  1. Rubbed coconut oil on my skin
  2. Filled bowl with hot water, covered my head, and steamed my face for 5 minutes
  3. Applied coconut oil on my skin
  4. Wrapped affected area with old cotton t-shirt that had been soaked in warm water.
  5. Covered all of that with dry wrap of old cotton t-shirt to seal in the goodness.

I’m leaving it on for an hour to study the effects. **I’ll let you know how it goes.

As eczema is exacerbated by stress, in an effort to calm myself down, I’ve picked up crocheting again. It’s mindless, calming, work and it seems to be helping my overall state of mind. I’m also trying not to focus on the negative aspects of my father’s death. I miss him desperately, but I can’t allow myself to shut down. I can feel the cold hands of apathy and depression reaching for me. I know my dad wouldn’t want me to suffer like this. I know he’d tell me to feel what I’m feeling, but don’t let it ruin my life. He’d be right. I also know he’d be worried about me. I’m worried about me. God, I miss my dad.

In the end, eczema is affecting my self esteem, my mood, and my social life. I’m hesitant to go out in public with flared up forehead. Like a shining beacon in the dark of night…there she is! Red crusty forehead! I see people looking at it and I want to drop back in shame and keep to the shadows. Whether they’re looking at it or not. My boyfriend keeps telling me I look fine. He’s great like that. I know he’s lying, but the lying helps. Keep telling me that, baby.

* I don’t actually use Vaseline since it’s made with petroleum which supports all kinds of bad things. It’s a small gesture move even though I drive a car and inevitably support the bad things anyway. I use Organic Un-Petroleum Jelly.

** I removed the wet wrap after an hour. The skin itself seemed smooth and baby soft, albeit still bright pink. My skin didn’t itch at all during the wrap. Afterwards, I applied colloidal oatmeal skin lotion (organic) and my skin started to burn. That’s bad, right? Oatmeal lotion is supposed to be good for eczema and the only thing I imagine could upset my skin is alcohol (which resides in ALL lotions, by the way). Maybe I’m allergic to one of the ingredients? The only other thing I can think of is that simply touching my already sensitive skin irritated it. Overall, I like the wet wrap idea even if it isn’t practical for daytime use. I’m thinking it’s something I can do at bedtime. My forehead is warm to the touch. I might have to try an alternative to oatmeal lotion though. I need more bandages and don’t have enough old t-shirts I can sacrifice to the cause. I read Noxema is good for soothing eczema. I need to try that.

As a footnote, eventually the burning subsided. Once it did, I applied Vaseline which minimized the itching and generally feels good.

Easter with the Kids

Posted on by
1

About 5 years ago, my cousin started having babies. She’s got three now. It was a family consensus that she was too young, unmarried, and life would be unnecessarily difficult for her. She lived at home and wasn’t working. The thing is, bad as all that sounds, what my cousin managed to do was bring children back into the family. Her little ones are so delightful and smart and adorable. I absolutely love them. Each of them with their own unique personality, they bring a certain magic to the holidays. It’s the kind of magic you never knew was missing until one of them screams with joy over a new gift or that mad happiness at finding an easter egg that was easily in view. So you see, now matter we felt five years ago, all that’s changed. I can’t imagine the family without these kids.
My dad went to all their birthday parties and every non-essential holiday. He spent time with the family. He used to invite me all the time. I’d say I’d think about it and always found something better to do. Of course, now that he’s gone, I wish I’d gone to all of them. You know, I wish I’d spent more time with my dad. And now that he’s gone, I realize just how important family is. I mean, I always knew, but now it’s that much more important. My tiny cousins loved my dad. He was their Uncle Joe. The oldest boy (almost 5) misses him and you can see it when he looks at my dad’s picture. It really breaks your heart. I know what I’m going through, but to see a small boy miss his Uncle is really hard.

We did Easter on Saturday. It was really the first family gathering that my Dad wasn’t at. We had a great time watching the kids run around the yard looking for eggs. Tiny feet scampering and yelling, it was wonderful. The funny thing is, I didn’t really miss my dad. I don’t know how it all works, but maybe he was there. I miss him mostly when I’m alone and I have time to think about it. Mostly I try not to dwell on it. If I dwell on it, I might not recover. If I let myself fall into the abyss, I might not ever crawl back out. Suppression of emotion? Maybe. I don’t know. I miss my dad like crazy and all the emotions I felt last month are still there…they’re stuck somewhere between my heart and mind, not able to surface and I guess that’s bad. I want him here. I want him to call. I want to hear his voice. I can’t believe he’s gone and part of me wants to believe he’ll come back.

I know I’m not crazy. I bet all people feel this way when they lose someone. I realize it’s normal, but I don’t like this kind of normal. I want the normal that used to be a world in which my dad lived.

My mom has started showing up to family functions on my dad’s side. It’s not that she isn’t welcome to, it’s just that it’s weird to have my mom there and not my dad. She’s also angry with me for some inexplicable reason. I’m sure it has something to do with this blog and how a few posts back I wrote how she was having a meltdown. Well, she was. We all were. I also mentioned that she was acting like a grieving widow. She did. What sucks is that rather than communicate with me, she’s more inclined to not call me or keep me at a distance. She’s also been a little snippy with me. I kind of hoped my dad’s death would bring us closer, but it hasn’t. What she doesn’t realize is that this blog has kept me sane. It’s my therapy and when I’m done with a post, I feel better about a lot of things. My mom has this strange aversion to the truth or someone’s side of the story that doesn’t jive with her’s. She’ll be annoyed with me for a long time until I finally say, “Mom, why are you made at me?” and all hell will break loose. Seeing as I’m not interested in hell breaking loose, I probably won’t ever ask her.

The good news is, my mom had a great time with my little cousins yesterday. It was great to watch her give them gifts and coddle them. I guess after you’ve had kids and once they grown up and start annoying you, it’s nice to have new kids that you don’t have any responsibility for and can just be nice to. I’m serious. My mom loves us, but I can see what a disappointment we are to her. I was joking when I asked her where MY Easter basket was and she snipped “You don’t get them anymore.” I know part of that was because, yes, I’m 32 years old and too old for Easter baskets, but partly she was expressing her annoyance with me. Oh mom.

No answers for all of that. I look at my cousin and see the wonderful human beings she’s brought into the world, but I see the trade-off. I look at my mom and I see that kids are great, but are a lot more trouble than they’re worth. My mom once asked me if she’d ruined me for having kids. I said yes. Yesterday at the party, a girl with a two year old boy asked me how old I was and if I had kids. When I said no, she gave me that tongue clicking sad face, like “how sad for you.” Don’t pity me! I have cats! Part of me doesn’t want kids and part of me does. At a certain age, people start reminding you that you don’t have a whole lot of time left. The clock is ticking. What I don’t get is why having kids is the end all be all? Does having kids make you a better person? I see that kids are you but better, but why can’t I be me, but better? I see that it’s wonderful to watch them grow, teach them, make awesome adults, but why can’t I do all of that to me? I can, I guess. I can do whatever I want, but there’s a lot of pressure to have kids. I’m just getting to a place in my life where I actually like myself and like my life…why would I want to ruin all of that with kids? They say kids change your life, I like my life. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. The only thing missing from my life is my dad.

This post could go on forever, I should stop now.

The Best Resume Ever

Posted on by
Reply

My boyfriend is currently on the hunt for a new personal assistant. The best part about putting ads on Craisglist is the sort of bottom-of-the-barrel responses you get. They say “Good help is hard to find” and with 6 billion people on the planet, I wonder why that is. Good help must be that proverbial needle in a haystack.

Cast your eyes upon this beauty of a resume my boyfriend recently received:

From: “reallyripped6” <reallyripped6@domainomitted.net>

Subject: Part-Time Personal/Administrative Assistant

Date: April 6, 2007 7:15 AM PDT

To:


NAME OMITTED reallyripped6@domainomitted.net

Friend,

College

Family.


Hello future employer,

that is right, I know you can not wait to be shown what I can do, and I am Ready to dazzle yous. I am really really interested in working for you, and I know that you are too. I am doing very well academically, and have many grades above the schools B average.

I am a very persistent worker, and I really love being that. I do lots of tasks including babysitting, and various pay by day jobs. All of my colleges say I am really trust worthy. You can reach me at reallyripped6@domainmitted.net

You should take time out of your busy schedule to look through my resume, because, like God I am really good at what I do.

Charitably,

Name Omitted

reallyripped6@domainomitted.net

Objective:

I am hunting for a short/ long term employment with the possibility of financial gain. I am trying to raise money to buy a car over the summer.

Qualifications:

I have taken many classes over my life, and I defiantly consider my self as a people person. My friends say that I defiantly have an irresistible aura.

I have a class on computers in my freshmen year, and my therapist says I have an excellent memory, so I should be able to retain most of what I learnt

Employment History:

2006-2006 Round Table Pizza Delivery

1998-Present Assistant Manager in Rodmerez Locksmiths industry.

2004-Present I am currently the most trusted babysitter on my block.

2004-2005 Class president and Treasury.

June 2006- September 2006 I was an intern at out of the Closet in Pasadena, but was forced to give up my position to continue my education.

Education:

Santa Monica Public Jr. High School- 2003-2005

Santa Monica Public High School- 2005- Present.

Best babysitter on the Block

Where do I begin? I’ll start by saying I think it’s GOT to be a joke. I mean, I has to be, right? The first thing that caught my eye was the email address reallyripped6. OK, sounds like a jerk already. I started reading it and laughed at the atrocious grammar and wondered if it wasn’t someone who didn’t speak very good English. Then I felt bad for laughing. That is, until I came upon the “best babysitter on the block” part. Other points of interest are “irresistible aura” and “my therapist says”. You get passed all of that nonsense and then it slaps you right in the face! The picture! Holy crap! The best babysitter on the block? Holy crap! He/She included a fucking picture!

There’s no way this is a real resume. If it is, I must cry PEDOPHILE!! Not a student, not some kid looking for a job. I’m thinking either pedophile, creepy trans-gender, or serial killer who eats the flesh of whores in order to get closer to God. And did you dig the Junior High graduation date? That would make this “kid” 15 or 16 years old. It’s gotta be a joke.

Thinking logically, I realize it’s a joke. At least, I hope it is. Of course, this leads me to further ponder…if this is a joke, this means that some poor sap is out there sending “funny” resumes out for his or her own amusement. The kind of person that does this is either A) A certified genius, B) a Lonely loser taking a break from his online RPG, or C) a lonely pedophile taking a break from eating the flesh of whores to get closer to God in an effort to entertain his lonely mind.

If you’re a real person…dude (or dudette), you need to work on your resume. If this is a joke…well played. Well played indeed. I omitted the name, email, and address on the off chance this is a real person. I really want to tell you the person’s name…I shouldn’t. That’s mean. OK, just this once. It’s Billet Queen Rodmerez. I looked it up on the net and nothing came up. It’s fake. Right?

—

Update Approx 3 Minutes Later: OK, so I just got off the phone with my boyfriend and he told me his 15 year old son actually wrote this up and cleverly slipped it into the pile of prospective applicants. Oh my God. How hilarious is that?? What a funny kid. I was right, the kind of person that does something like this is obviously A) A Certified Genius. It’s exactly this kind of comedy that makes joining this family for a lifetime not so scary. I love my boyfriend’s kids. My boyfriend asked his son how he found the picture and his son replied that he’d searched Google for “ugly man”. ROTFLMAO.

My Body Isn’t Listening

Posted on by
Reply

One month and two days since my dad died.

Wow.

It’s only been a month? Over the last 32 days, I’ve been going through the motions of life. We had all the funeral ceremonies and the tough choices between grave markers. I’ve been to see my dad’s currently unmarked grave twice. I’m not crying uncontrollably anymore, but I don’t feel well. I feel…dead. I don’t feel alive anyway. I don’t feel like life has very much to offer at this point and I’m struggling to breathe. I don’t care about a lot of things…like my job. All I really want to do is sit on my couch and watch movies for days on end. I’ve already done that a couple of times. I inevitably end up feeling like I’ve wasted the day. “Depressed” is an understatement. I’m snappy, rude, and easily frustrated. Little things that used to not matter are pissing me the fuck off. Yesterday I beat up my cel phone cause I couldn’t turn it off. I actually started hitting the poor little thing. I hope I didn’t break it.

As a result of this total frustration and stress, my eczema has morphed from an annoying bit of humor to a cruel joke.  About 5 days ago, I started cutting out sugar, wheat, and dairy from my diet in an effort to rid myself of this horrible affliction. I also started drinking De-Tox tea, drinking more water, and taking vitamins said to assist. Since then, it seems I’ve gotten worse. It’s like the eczema knows I’m trying to get rid of it and it’s clinging on for dear life.

People are telling me I’ve lost weight. I recently found out that a young family man at work thinks I’m hot. According to my sources, the word “hot” was used. As good as this makes me feel, I can’t help but question it. I’m covered in scales and I feel like crap! How is this possible? Thank you anyway, but really? Hot? Of course, my whole life I’ve never understood why anyone would think I’m hot…cute maybe. I reserve the word “hot” for people like Kiera Knightly or Selma Hayek, but certainly not me.

I haven’t updated Dark Culture in something like, two months. I’ve questioned whether or not I should continue the site for a while now. Since my dad died, I really don’t feel like working on it. It’s not fun and I’m just not that into it anymore. I love it for what it stands for and that, despite lack of updates, it continues to be one of the better online zines out there…still…my life isn’t like it was a year ago, six months ago. I’m thinking what I want to do is stop the overall “magazine” aspect of the site and continue doing podcasts and writing the occasional review. I’m trying to get my life together and really work on my photography. Dark Culture hasn’t ever and never will make any money. When I was 22 that was OK…I could dedicate hours and hours to the site and not worry about the money. 10 years later, I worry about the money. I also don’t have that kind of time anymore. I remember my dad used to tell me the site was a good “hobby” and I’d combat him by telling about my passion for it and how, even though it didn’t make any money, it was what I wanted to do. I’m not so sure anymore. I might convert the site into a blog and continue the news and reviews and podcasts. Yeah, that sounds good. Now what? When do I have the time to do such a thing? Part of me feels bad because there are actually one or two people out there who actually love the site and would hate to see it go. Let’s face it, maybe the site is good, but it could be so much better and it seems a crime to continue it at only half speed. I was raised to believe that if you’re going to do something, do it well. My parents would say, “I don’t care if you’re a ditch digger, but if that’s what you want to do, be the best goddamn ditch digger you can.” Good advice, right?

My life right now feels like a Chinese finger trap. The more I struggle, the harder it is to escape. If I’d just relax, I could get out.  Despite better judgment, I continue to struggle. It’s as though my brain knows what I should do, but my body isn’t listening.

Brain: Kristen, you should relax. There’s nothing you can do to change the situation. You loved your Dad and he loved you, but he’s gone. You have great memories and a whole slew of awesome pictures. Try to take care of yourself and relax.

Body: *fingers in ears* La La La La  La La La La La La La La, I can’t hear you!!