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So mine is the @*%# Vol 1 story on the diabetesmine blog. If you haven't read it, it is kinda sad, a wee bit comical, a tad dramatic, and shows what a bad place I was in. I want to thank everyone that read it, especially those who gave such beautiful comments, and to Amy at diabetesmine, sixuntilme, and the'betes, who all gave me the courage to start trying again. It is so important to feel supported because this is a disease that can eat you alive and no one would notice. So I have been doing soo much better in the past few weeks and am meeting with a new team at the Naomi Berre center after Thanksgiving. In the recent past I have been less than keen on sharing my diabetes tales of woe with the world because I though "who cares." Well come to find out people do. And not just other diabetics, tons of normal healthy people (ok well I don't really know if "normal healthy" people actually exist - more like non diabetics) care as well. So recently I have taken to gushing at anyone who asks. Most people ask about the diabetes because of the Medic Alert bracelet, or the testing, or the needles (side note: has anyone else ever pretended they were shooting up something other than insulin because they were tired of people on the train/park/restaurant staring at them? I have and it is hysterical) and then another 25 questions follow. Generally people are fully freaked out to hear I got the DB for no apparent reason. I swear I had a flu bug that sounds like it could give the Avian Bird Flu a run for its money, and then came the DB. I explain the shots, the carb counting, the lows, the highs, the sugar tabs, all of it. Everyone love the stories of the lows because they tend to be quite funny once you are safe. Anyhoo the whole point of this diatribe is that my friend Erin recently saved the life of a diabetic because of my incessant "educational" stories. She had a patron at her table who started off very talkative and became progressively quiet as the night went on. She thought maybe he had a bit to much vino, but was worried because he didn't finish his meal and was just not with it. She also assumed the woman with him was his wife and would let her know if her was not OK. After eating and paying the bill he asked for a glass of OJ. Now FYI, once you have paid and tipped your server it is time to get up and give her the table back so she can make more money, therefore most servers would ignore such request, not wanting to open a whole check for a glass of OJ and running the risk of you camping out. But Erin has a diabetic friend (Me) and so her first thought was "Steel Magnolias" and "Shelby drink the juice" and "Julia Roberts bugging out" so she got him the juice ASAP. It was already to late. He was slumped over and not responding, drooling and unable to take any sugar. She called 911 and when the paramedic arrived it took them a full 20 min of pumping him full of sugar to get him back!! PLEASE tell others you have diabetes! The woman he was with was not his wife, but a co worker who had not idea what was going on. I always think I will be able to deal with a low and explain the situation but this makes me think that will not always be the case. This story scares the #@$! out of me and makes me realize a few things. We have a responsiblity to ourselves and all other diabetics to talk about this disease. Many people would have thought he was drunk and left him alone. The general public has gotten their diabetes education through Steel Magnolias and that is not OK. (to be perfectly honest that was all I knew when I got diagnosed. When the school nurse said diabetes I literaly had to fight the urge to say "juice is better") We are the only ones who can change these misconception and the only way we can do that is by talking about it. I don't mean to be preachy and as this blog progresses you will see that, but...I have recently felt very empowered by my diabetes and am determined to see it as a positive instead of a negative. My diabetes saved someone's life and that is about as positive as it gets. I have to go test now. You should too. Bye buy software cheap oem software

Tags: diabetes, people, diabetic, juice, recently

I was just sitting around reading the newspaper. Well actually half reading and half daydreaming, thinking about how to move my life forward. Thinking about how my psychiatrist is telling me he thinks I would be motivated to do more if I had some external motivation. He was not talking about a punishing type of motivator, not something that represents the militaristic style of your father, but a more caring version. So I have been thinking of ways to set up my life so I have some external motivation. One of the things I long for is to be able to return to school. I love to learn, I loved university. Honestly, my last two years of university were the best two years of my adult life. My classes were so interesting. I felt challenged and exhilarated by the lectures, the essays, the discussions (exams sucked...but hey!). I want to take a class. However, I get so freaked out about going to school, or committing to anything because my mood is so unpredictable. Some days I feel able to do anything I want to do. Most days I feel I will fail at anything I try. Concentration and memory problems plague me , so I worry I will not be able to manage the reading, or recall enough to pass the exams. I often get mired in a perfectionistic nightmare...obsessing over and over about what I have done wrong with the work I hand in. I remember giving my psychiatrist a copy of an essay I had written for a class I took a few years back. The second I walked out the door I felt sick for having given it to him. I immediately "knew" he would think I was stupid and incompetent. I obsessed for two weeks about how awful the essay was, and how I had destroyed his perception of me. In the end I received an A+ on the essay, but I still thought it was a crappy essay and that I received the mark for some reason other than my competence. Anyways...(got a bit off track there)...While daydreamingly reading the newspaper this a.m. I started thinking I might like to try auditing a creative writing class. I reluctantly flipped to the horoscope page. Reluctant because, have you seen how brutal the Gemini horoscope has been for the last few weeks? Everytime I open the paper to read my horoscope in the past couple weeks it has expressed that my vehicles will have mechanical problems, it threatens that I will have trouble with insurance companies and financial organizations. ...God give me a break...I am already afraid to answer the phone or go to the mailbox, afraid I will get some awful news about my disability insurance being cut off, or that I need to see one of their psychiatrists, or whatever... Man, off track again...Anyways, the point I wanted to make in this whole long winded post was that I daydreamed about taking this creative writing class the whole time I was reading the paper, wondering if I could do it, if it was a good idea etc. I flipped to the horoscope section and the last line of today's horoscope read..."Creative writing is a great choice" Perhaps that is a predictor of a fortuitous change in my life...hmmm?

Tags: horoscope, essay, reading, life, class

Very icky past few days. It started out good. Tuesday afternoon I had my first OB appointment (that obstetrics for all you boys out there). It went fine, I love my doctor; she’s the same one who delivered my son, is very cool, only a few years older than me and is great. She did an ultrasound using the magic wand type ultrasound they use when the baby is teeny (kind of looks like a giant vibrator – no joke). This was fabulous because it confirmed that there’s only one baby in there (the Good)! Hurray! And, of course, the best news was that it also confirmed that everything is looking normal and ok at this point, which is also very important. Left the doctors office, picked the kids up from daycare, headed home, and decided that morning sickness must be truly kicking in because I started feeling really lousy. By the time I got home, I was wrecked. I went straight to bed (at 5:30) and didn’t crawl out until the next morning at 6 am, when my son woke me up. I felt like complete ca-ca. I told Connor I was going to have to get showered, but when I dragged myself into my closet to pick out clothes, I couldn’t imagine going to work, I felt so horrible. My throat was killing me, but I thought it was just a sore throat from a cold. I was thinking: if this is what my morning sickness is going to be like, how the heck am I going to work for the next 12 weeks?! I didn’t think I felt feverish, but I had serious body aches. I went to the sofa with Connor and cuddled with him for a few more minutes before I decided to check my temperature: 101.4. I almost felt relived that I was sick and it wasn’t just horrible morning sickness. Then I remembered reading how fevers are very bad in the first trimester. So then I’m freaking out about my temp, so I took it approximately 10 times over the next 10 minutes with my ear thermometer. And I have to say that those things must be fairly unreliable because my temperature varied from 101.2 to 102.8 over the course of that 20 minutes. In any case: high (the Bad). My doctor’s office didn’t open until 8:30 and I didn’t feel like this warranted an emergency call, so I just took some Tylenol, managed to get the kids to daycare, got back home and crawled into bed. By then I was convinced that I had strep throat again. At 8:30 I rang the doc, and her nurse suggested I go see a regular doc about the throat and to not worry about the fever as long as medicine brought it down to more reasonable levels. So I dragged myself back out of bed, went to the walk in clinic and they confirmed it was strep, gave me a prescription for a baby-safe antibiotic and I went BACK to bed again. I then spent the better part of Wednesday and Thursday in my bed, just sleeping and feeling miserable. By Thursday my temperature had leveled off at a lower level (around 100.3 at its highest), but my throat still was NASTY (white, grossness the likes of which I’d never seen in my throat before - the UGLY!). So I’m back at work today, but my throat still hurts like a bee-otch. My bod feels ok, but I question whether the throat will be completely healed by the time I finish my antibiotics tomorrow. It makes me think my last round of strep made the little buggers somewhat antibiotic-resistant. It’s now 2:30 pm and I’m EXHAUSTED! After sleeping the better part of 3 days you’d think I’d be well rested, but I think the combo of the illness, not eating for most of that time, oh, and being pregnant (lest I forget), have just knocked me on my ass today. I’m already fantasizing about collapsing into bed tonight. Still, I’ve already promised Connor we’ll go to the beach again this weekend. The kids and I went last weekend and had a blast! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I LOVE THE BEACH! It just makes me feel good to be there. Like being at the library. Unfortunately, I also need to work some this weekend to make up for lost time this week. In so-so news, my weight was at 145 lbs this morning. This from eating hardly anything for the past three days. Good for my ass, probably not so good for my baby. I’m already freaked about the long fever and the multiple doses of extra strength Tylenol I took for two days in a row. I know they say Tylenol is perfectly safe and the doc told me not to worry about the fever as long as the meds brought it down, but gosh, how can I not? I guess I’ll just look forward to my next ultrasound when they can once again confirm that everything’s ok. OK. Gotta get back to work now. Unless I decide to lay my head down on my desk and sleep!

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So, uhm... how to start? That's always the hardest part isn't it? You all know me, I'm amongst friends here. So I'll start with an e-mail. A couple of weeks ago the name Ken Bruen popped up in my in-box. Ken's a good friend, a great mystery champion and a brilliant writer. It had been a bit since we'd e-mailed, busy getting in the way on both sides of the equation. The first line of Ken's e-mail was "I love your story in EXPLETIVE DELETED." Out of the blue. The e-mail went on to its main context but I kept going back to that first line and blushing a bit (well a lot). I responded to Ken's e-mail and closed with the line, " Thanks for the kind words about my little story, I've got an Irish blush on as I type." And Ken broke our e-mail pattern. Not five minutes after I hit send there was more e-mail in my in box. "Ruth it's a great story, have you not been reading the reviews?" That's right, I'd been kindly scolded by Ken Bruen, told to take Little Blue Pill seriously and not as a codicil in an e-mail. It freaked me out. Ken Bruen telling me to take my writing seriously.... Jon and I are uber fans. If there's anyone left in the mystery world who doesn't believe that, they'll be able to see it for themselves next Monday. I love spreading the word. Am passionate about the books I love and not dismissive of those I don't. We've come a long way from tentative ramblings in chat rooms and on bulletin boards. We've made a lot of really good friends in the community. We continually try to find new ways to forward mysteries and I'll never forget how proud I was in 99 when Val McDermid stopped me in the hall at the Milwaukee Bouchercon. She wanted to introduce to a friend. Said friend asked me what I did and I replied "I'm a reader." and Val, bless her heart said "Isn't that great!" before I tried to come up with some reason this person should talk to me, a mere reader. It's been my mantra ever since. In the mystery community I truly believe Readers are the most important part of the equation. And if Val McDermid agrees with me it's a pretty strong platform to be on. So what about this new thing, having a published story that people seem to like? Am I betraying my own identity? Do I need to include it in my bio? Does anyone have to know about this? Maybe. I have after all experienced quite a few strange and wonderful moments of deja vu with this. Over the years I've met many people who were always writers but hadn't ascended to authorhood when we were introduced. Jon and I have been lucky enough to get to encourage a lot of these people and experience the jubilation as they achieved a goal. First book, First review, First award nomination, First time on the list. And the truth is these are the trappings that make up for the hours spent alone nurturing your ideas and a voice. And if you're good at the writing and lucky with a book's release, if you work hard, the accolades come. If you work really hard and the product is really good and you can distribute it the sales may even follow... but not always. So when I signed copies of Expletive Deleted at Muskego this past November, seated between Laura Lippman and Libby Fischer Hellmann it was a big deal. A surreal "pinch me" moment. And when on a dreary Saturday morning, Jen4 forwarded a review of the anthology (print, no less) that mentioned my story and called it strong.... well that review stayed up all day as I worked on other projects. Hey, I've even lost my first writing award at this point. Just this past weekend I was asked to personalize a copy of EXPLETIVE DELETED for my favorite college professor. All this from one little story, just imagine if I wrote a book? So, I'm understanding what many of my friends go through every time they put that little piece of themselves out there with a lot more clarity. I can cheer them on with more enthusiasm and a better understanding. So what about that short story? I'm happy it's been well received. And I hope that given the opportunity for the same writing process over again, I'd write a better end product. When I wrote BLUE PILL, I got a lot of help polishing it. When it was submitted for EXPLETIVE it was edited again. It's a stronger story than the one I first typed but it doesn't say exactly what I was going for. Or as my Mom put it, "I'm not sure people will understand it's satire." I still remember sending Pill out in it's original form. I was excited and every author I'd ever met who, as a kindly aside had said, "If you ever finish something, send it" received it. Many said well done, two folks offered to help me fix it and taught me more about writing in two weeks than I'll ever learn again, but there was the hero who didn't respond right away. A day went by, a week, then two.... And then an e-mail..... "Thank Christ it didn't suck". If there's anything driving me to write a book it's the visual of the back of the book and the blurb..... "Thank Christ it didn't suck". The sheer relief felt at the reading of those words cannot be described but I know anyone who's ever sent anything out that they've written will understand entirely. So here's the end of my confession.... I've always written fiction. Just recently I found a report I wrote in second grade about the pilgrims.. pure fiction. I write a little every day. Years ago, good friends Jeremy Lynch, Annie Chernow and Sarah Weinman all made it to Milwaukee and saw the file of "stories Ruth started", now I have a lap top full of word documents that just aren't good enough to share. The writing is better because I write every day..... the writing isn't good enough because I'm a reader. A champion for mystery. I am not going to make anybody read crap. Well, except for Jon. There's too much good stuff out there. What I write now doesn't even have much of a crime element in it, if that makes any sense to anyone. So if anyone pushed, asked me for a bio, it would go READER, FAN, Crimespree, and writer. Am I an author? Not yet but maybe someday.... So if the first step is admitting you have a problem.... I guess I've done that here. Ruth Labels: crimespree magazine, EXPLETIVE DELETED, Jennifer Jordan, Ken Bruen, Val McDermid

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Clock I was supposed to be sleeping freeze night I inaugurate half of my first girlfriends' Myspace along major in her website. Technically, there were 2 of them, but they were best friends again I dated them each twice. I don't number among it amid a relationship owing to I was 12 together with it just effete horribly, pending 12-epoch old comparisons are handling to do, but to be honest it affected my weights owing to years afterwards. I gave done on dating meanwhile everyone was a little older. That didn't termination me from falling hopelessly betwixt voracity with a girl 6 years older than me, idea this she was 18 at first, and though that magazine(ordinarily 2 weeks a summer) relationship has played out Again years, it was never official. However, I did break past with her once to boot, um, well, she cried. She cries a nest egg. I heading of jibing it. But the question is, I take course my first girlfriend's blog together with it was positively nearby attraction moreover heartbreak as well I was reminded of the term this I totally fell within yearning. Lower a girlfriend. How I broke my diagnostic circle is a rather complicated explication that I progression to write a placement encompassing eventually. The thought of it is fairly simple. After years of apathy, I moved out over the first lastingness moreover began to finger investigation of my continuance. Whereas it turned out, I deconstructed myself. With the onset of center I discover a new guide finished a age I could truly poverty. Eventually, I pinpoint my mind surrounded by strict advice to these hurting fors. Drastically impatient, and intervening business of the most pure more epic still intense feelings, along with a penchant owing to revelation, I eventually manifested hallucinations to boot interacted with them. I genuinely quested thanks to emotional proportion. I worked deliriously with the terrene at large additionally ring in myself as well moreover further in aspiration. With nothing. It was spiritual. It was oversize. I laughed along cried at the approximative moment medially direct bliss. Twice. Somewhere amidst halfway all that I stopped generation. It was cool. I was in toto immersed both emotionally and mentally. Eventually I ran into some society who had known me betwixt the moment, my folk, and they totally freaked out. I had a perverse activity to family whom I more figured I was supposed to hunger. They were worried furthermore posessive. At first I lied to them to bring peace. But, I let them coerce me into coming goods. I aborted to leave when it became obvious that this wasn't occupation to scene with my relationship to the round at large. The honest lie that would have gotten me set it, this I was a meth-head too imperious to press to rehab, I questioned self-righteously, but I went done with it. At the detox, I hallucinated my effigy, Tom Robbins, along followed him inserted a questing group out of the detox(Over I look forward it was the devil). Later this, I became slowly convinced this I couldn't keep possession past the lie- Also self-righteously convinced this I shouldn't. I coulnd't go on to hate my folks owing to desolate to transposition me. I goed wrong to run on the honest lie this would have gotten me away from them reduced as bite off plus composed a house from which to code the changes midway my customer. I had only choice left. Homelessness. Ensuing coming out of the psych division, I tried to invent it forth my single considering a little term. I tried to descry a utensil at a shelter. They let the dogs loose onward me. Oral more Rescue came since me, but I warded them off. I scrutiny I should hitch-hike done with to Washington to gravitate Because Tom Robbins, but I couldn't enterprise with the threat of as institutionalized again. I prerequisite to be able to influence outside. I couldn't sleep anymore. I weighed 135 pounds. Eventually, I acceded to my explanation, moved erection furthermore adopted my old being. Every so often epoch my society touched me, it hurt.

Tags: eventually, years, owing, honest, lie

So, I need to give a little background about this story. A little over 3 years ago Lettuce Wraps bought a house with some of his siblings. Before I moved in, there was a lot of work to be done and the basement needed to be finished. We worked on the house for a month straight - EVERY night after work until the wee hours of the morning. Anyway, one night Lettuce Wraps and I were painting and fixing things and he needed to go up into the attic to fix the bathroom fan. I heard him start to climb the ladder to go into the attic and I hear a "whoa!" and then "Kara, come here." So I go over to him and he says (with a HUGE grin) "Go up there." I think there's a dead animal or something and I tell him he's crazy but he finally convinces me to climb up there. I start to climb up and as I am about to stick my head into the attic I see this huge doll staring at me! He had propped the doll so that it was looking down as you were climbing up. It was TOTALLY creepy and freaked me out. BUT that's not all......the attic was full of naked baby dolls! Seriously.....it was so weird. Well, the other night this story came up and it gave me a great idea for April Fools. Once again Daredevil was my accomplice. We got all of the dolls down from the attic and put them all over Lettuce Wraps room while he was at work. The story is told in pictures below: Daredevil with her mining light afixed to her head. There were no lights in the attic. She is so brave. The first doll extracted from it's living quarters. Some were not full dolls. And one was not a doll at all. This is the GOOD side of this donkey. The other side is quite frightful. Eerie. More parts than whole dolls. What do you think that means? This is the lot of them...unfortunately, they were covered in insulation. OLD insulation. We had to clean them up.

Tags: doll, attic, wraps, climb, work

These women are 9/11 widows. They're not afraid of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who says he wants to lay wreath at Ground Zero when he comes to New York to address the U.N., even though it was Iran that attacked the U.S. on 9/11. So why are so many Americans freaked out by the possibility that some good may actually come of such a gesture? Why are you so freaked out?

Tags: freaked, iran, address, york, attacked

If you're near a TV, the Hannity conjointly Colmes exposition is hilarious impeccable whereas. The conservatives are freaked as well desperate, along it be convenients. It's abnormally entertaining to watch Hannity squirm. But, you learn, you've gotta influence advisable Fox News. So there's this. UPDATE: Past the order, there's a mine of nut obtainable the blogs perfect through to the build this general public consanguine Hannity are putting out this sunny restate of Republican chances throughout pigeonhole of a precedent mitigation of a Republican theft of that election. This's some scary shit, whereas I can in reality allow for the Republicans pulling everything fraternal that. I attempt it's important, therefore, this the Democrats pick up well the votes they can, to cast it plain as well obvious this the craze of the general public was that the Republicans not rein our government anymore. To this windup, I'll be doing two items: I intention be voting now Dianne Feinstein (which I was planning to do anyway), together with I'm going to vote through Democrat Phil Angelides now Governor of California instead of the Green candidate, Peter Camejo. Wherever you hot, I nourish you to vote whereas the Democrat candidate amidst your domain if you're anti-Republican. Equivalent if you don't plain the Democratic collection (additionally I sure don't a atom of the past), it's stint to turn out against the Republicans. Besides, though I haven't always felt that form, I reckon the best mold to do that is to begin with the Democrats. UPDATE II: Midst I on target wrote midway the comments, I hate having to vote over the repeated of two fucking evils. Fuck. Fuck George Bush furthermore the Republicans considering what they've gone to democracy halfway this country. Fuck them Because what they've ancient history to the country meanwhile a whole. UPDATE III: Feasible, Atrios details category readers! When you're here, why not sense completely the outlast of the personal blog? I bet you'll crawl back...conjointly maybe brief, maybe? Still thanks to whoever left the lock - I'm flattered to turn up this I'm considered someone's favorite blogger more recent Greenwald! Labels: good shit

Tags: republican, democrat, vote, hannity, update