I will know the basic trajectory of my near-future life in 43 hours or less.
I will be an aunt in less time than that. Peanut will be getting a shirt like this, no matter what kind of plumbing kiddo is born with.
Peanut's mum just liked my Facebook message, so I assume the labouring is still going on.
If I get a job and a niece or nephew on the same day, that would be rad.
Showing posts with label lady gaga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lady gaga. Show all posts
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Anthem - 2011
Don't be drag, just be a queen
Whether you're broke or evergreen
You're black, white, beige, chola descent
You're lebanese, you're orient
Whether life's disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
'Cause baby, you were born this way
No matter gay, straight or bi
lesbian, transgendered life
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born to survive
No matter black, white or beige
chola or orient made
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born to be brave
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
What they don't tell you.
I've been waking up every morning and not recognizing the face staring back from the mirror.
My physical being has gone rogue. I don't recognize my face, my hair or my body. My bodily functions are alien to me.
I cried in public today. That's really not my style. I haven't cried in some time and to do it in public just made it more like a humiliating kick in the teeth rather than the painful punch in the gut it is in private.
The MS people talk a lot about symptoms and how to manage them but they don't tell you *why* you just want to stay in your house and never come out. It's not just the symptoms, I am now convinced of this.
It's the little embarrassments. It's the constant mental calculations of where you can go because every trip is a metric of distance + time + seating + washrooms. It's about the little stumbles, the lack of fine motor skills making it difficult to hold a pen, the small inabilities that just build up and up and up until the degradation brings you down and down and down.
It's the stares from strangers when they don't understand why half way down the block my left leg starts to drop or why I lose my balance trying to negotiate a curb. I'm not drunk and I'm not faking in order to ask for a seat on the bus.
It's all my old clothes and shoes mocking me from the closet. It's my wedding photo staring back at me on the wall. It's Marg's boots, Dianna's corsets, Sam's travels and Laurie's job.
But the thing that made me cry today was Speechless
Could we fix you if you broke?
And is your punch line just a joke?
My physical being has gone rogue. I don't recognize my face, my hair or my body. My bodily functions are alien to me.
I cried in public today. That's really not my style. I haven't cried in some time and to do it in public just made it more like a humiliating kick in the teeth rather than the painful punch in the gut it is in private.
The MS people talk a lot about symptoms and how to manage them but they don't tell you *why* you just want to stay in your house and never come out. It's not just the symptoms, I am now convinced of this.
It's the little embarrassments. It's the constant mental calculations of where you can go because every trip is a metric of distance + time + seating + washrooms. It's about the little stumbles, the lack of fine motor skills making it difficult to hold a pen, the small inabilities that just build up and up and up until the degradation brings you down and down and down.
It's the stares from strangers when they don't understand why half way down the block my left leg starts to drop or why I lose my balance trying to negotiate a curb. I'm not drunk and I'm not faking in order to ask for a seat on the bus.
It's all my old clothes and shoes mocking me from the closet. It's my wedding photo staring back at me on the wall. It's Marg's boots, Dianna's corsets, Sam's travels and Laurie's job.
But the thing that made me cry today was Speechless
Could we fix you if you broke?
And is your punch line just a joke?
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