Books I Read in 2015

Last year was my first time joining the reading challenge on Goodreads. I was able to read 25 books in 2014 and decided to do the challenge again this year. I really wanted to read 30 books but I found I didn't have time during some months to read like I wanted to and some of the books I read just didn't catch and hold my attention like I hoped for. As this year comes to an end, I decided I would write about the books I read during 2015.

Now that I work at a used book store, I’m always being asked for recommendations. One problem with that is everyone reads different types of books and I tend to read the books we don’t have in stock. So I decided this year to read authors I’ve never read before. It wasn’t really my intention when 2015 started but that’s how the year went for me and to be honest, I loved it.

Like with all authors, there were some I absolutely loved and others, not so much. And like with all books, there were ones that shocked me, made me cry and touched my soul. Then there were the stories that disappointed me, ones I thought I would love and it turns out they didn’t.

1. I didn’t have to read To Kill a Mockingbird in school and it was on my to-read list for a VERY long time. Knowing that the sequel was going to be released in July, I wanted to read this amazing novel.

I recommend this book to anyone and I do believe that teenagers should read it. This story that is set in the 1930’s is relevant to today’s current events. This is a book I will never get rid of and will read many more times in my life.

2. I felt like this story jumped around a little too much and got confused in a few spots. In the end I love that Sylvia Plath was able to help you understand the mind of a person in an asylum. While I had to deal with a little confusion, I enjoyed this book.

I wanted to read the book because I have depression and this story deals with mental illness.

3. Kiss of Deception was one of the books that surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to love it as much as I did. I couldn’t put this book down. The sequel came out in July, but I have yet to read that novel.

I love reading young-adult fiction because they are an easy read and this story kept my attention every step of the way.

4. Little Gale Gumbo was an impulse buy that sounded amazing and yet I was disappointed in it. When I first purchased this book, I was expecting a murder mystery. That’s not what I got. While the story was okay, it focused on the background of the characters and their various love stories than it did the actual murder/death that occurred.

5. After watching the movie several times, I knew I has to read the book. This was one book that we had several copies in stock.

I’m always nervous when books are turned into movies, especially the books I love. In a way I’m glad I saw the movie first, but I have to say this is one instance where I love both the book and the movie.

6. When I came back from my birthday trip to Disneyland, there was a package sitting on my bed. There was no note inside saying who sent them to me, but it contained the first two novels in Miss Peregrine series and The Night Circus. Turns out the package came from my cousin Genaphur (who is also a reading fanatic) and her daughter Rory.

Once I read how Ransom Riggs wrote the story, this story intrigued me even more. He collects all these vintage photos that you can buy at flea markets for less than a dollar. Once he had gathered quite a collection, he wrote the story around them. The people you see in the photos are the ones you are reading in the story.

 7. The second novel of the Miss Peregrine series was just as intriguing as the first. In this story you get the travel into the past while following these children on their incredible journey. My friend Margi wanted to read these books and while I was waiting for her to read these, she bought book three once it came out (because I forgot… bad book nut) and other novels got in the way and I have yet to read book three. I will be reading it soon though.

8. A mysterious circus that shows up out of nowhere, no one even sees them set up, and unbeknownst to the visitors of the circus there is a magic duel going on between two young magicians.

Unfortunately, this story was not exactly what I expected. While I still enjoyed the story, for me it seemed to just end. I still did enjoy the book and I will probably read it again, just not soon.

9. To be honest, this was a cheater read. I bought it because I love Halloween and poems and this has incredible illustrations. Most of the poems were not that great, but I mainly got it for the drawings.

10. This was another book that surprised me. Based on an Irish folktale that didn’t have much known about the whole story, the author did a good job at telling her version of the tale. This was a great story about a kidnapped princess that learned that silence can be a life-saver.

 11. Go Set a Watchman was probably the most anticipated book of the year. For me, it took about 100 pages for this to feel like To Kill a Mockingbird. I was upset with the outcome of certain characters, but this still showed how much Scout changed in the following years after the events of To Kill a Mockingbird.

12. I got this book confused with another, but I still liked the sound of the book. How would you like to repeat the last day of your life until you learn what you did wrong, how mean you were to someone who didn’t deserve it and the reason for your death? The pouty teenager narrator kind of got on my nerves, but I still enjoyed the message of the book.

13. I usually don’t read short stories, but Jennifer Weiner is one author I was really wanting to read this year. Once I finished this story though, I realized that it was just a prequel to a novel. I do want to read the actual novel to continue the story.

 14. For Kindle owners, Amazon has this great deal called Amazon First. Every month Amazon will give you one book for free, one month before the book is published. I usually don’t read romance, but none of my other options interested me. To my surprise, I loved this book and would like to read more by Michelle Major.

15. I heard that they created a show on FOX based on Pines. I love a good mystery and this one really kept me thinking. It was nothing like I expected, but I immediately bought the other two books of the trilogy. At one point I got confused because this went from a mystery to science fiction and I wasn’t sure if I misread something, but turns out I didn’t. That’s just the story.

16. I bought this book at Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon in 2012 then it got lost on my shelf. Unfortunately, I could not keep up with it. For me it felt like the story was dragged out way too much. I still have to finish it, but kind of read a few paragraphs here and there and feel like I know somewhat of how the story ends. I will probably finish it this coming year. This was a big disappointment for me.

17. Jodi Picoult is another author we have a lot of at the store and one that I’ve been wanting to read for some time now. Leaving Time was recommended to me by a friend. I didn’t read it as quickly as I wanted to but I still enjoyed the story. You will learn a lot about elephants. The ending was great and not what I expected. Usually I pay better attention, but this one surprised me.

18. You want to talk about a book that can touch your soul? This one certainly did for me. I believe this is a must read for teens and anyone wanting to read a great story that can show you a way to just enjoy life.

19. This was another short story and one that while I knew what was going to happen, I still enjoyed the story. I’ve really gotten into short stories this year and I’m planning to read more in 2016.

20. Another short story that was really short, only 27 pages, and took no time to read. Even though I just read it just about a month and a half ago, I honestly don’t remember the story. I’ll have to read it again.

21. I’ve been reading a lot of contemporary fiction novels that I was craving a good murder mystery. My mom told me to try Lee Child so we found this at Barnes & Noble. I really had to get used to Lee Child’s style of writing. I’m not used to the broken sentences and I’m fond of “and” being used to string sentences together. But once I realized that he kind of writes like he’s writing a police report, the story really took off for me. I read the majority of this book over Thanksgiving.

22: I bought this as a short story, but it took me a few days, in between working, to read it. It was a cute story and I would like to read the rest of them. 

Always Keeping Fighting

While it has been several years since I've watched an episode of Supernatural, I've always supported the show. I really do need to catch up on the show. I really miss it. Thank God for Netflix. :)

In January, I got excited when Stephen Amell from Arrow started his Sinceriously campaign to raise money and awareness for mental health. Shortly after that, Jared Padalecki started Always Keep Fighting and while I missed the first round of Jared's campaign because I couldn't afford both campaigns at the time, I was so excited when I was able to partake in this current round. I cannot wait to get my shirt.

I wish I could have been in Hall H at Comic Con this year to light a candle for Jared and for the person(s) who thought of it, only one word comes to mind: brilliant.

Earlier today on Facebook, Jared asked a simple question. "What does #AlwaysKeepFighting mean to you?" This may not be a simple answer for most people, but for me it is. So Jared, here is my answer:

Always Keep Fighting reminds me that I didn't give up on my life at the age of 10. 

I've said for a long time that fifth grade was the best and the worst year of my life. It was the best because I had one of the best teachers I ever could have asked for in my life that figured out I'm dyslexic and encouraged me to read. I've never stopped reading and I now work at a used book store and couldn't be happier.

Fifth grade was also the time where I was bullied the worst in school and I began a five year stint of my life where I threatened suicide to my family. At 10 years old, I was done. I was entering into puberty faster than my peers and I didn't know who I was or even wanted to be or what was going on with my body and mind. Being a tomboy was hard enough and did nothing to help the tormenting, but to add the mood swings and confusion to the mix, I was overwhelmed. My teachers also didn't know what to do with me. They knew something was wrong but I was afraid to talk about it. The one time I did talk about it, yes I got three boys suspended for a couple days for calling me a boy-wannabe, after that, I was just called a tattle-tale. So I learned the hard way to keep my mouth shut and bottle everything inside until everything blew up and I took it out on my family. I believe that was the true beginning of my depression. The sad part? I was able to hide it so easily, like most depressed people do, that my friends had no clue.

My friends never really knew that dark side of me, because only my family got to see it. I'm also a fan of Criminal Minds and one of my favorite quotes from the show was when Reid said, "I know what it's like to be afraid of your own mind." THAT is depression. Plain and simple. People with any type of mental disorders become experts at responding, "I'm fine" when someone asks how we are doing. We smile when really we are screaming inside our head, but there we are are, smiling and saying "I'm fine."

I still have days where I stay in bed and only get up to get food or coffee, mostly for the coffee, and I don't care if I don't see anyone or utter a single word throughout the entire day. I just call them my depression days and it's okay. I'm okay. Honestly, I am. I just need that time to myself to sort out the bullshit inside my head.

One thing that is so hard to comprehend for most people in life is that it's OKAY TO ASK FOR HELP. About 6 years ago, I finally confronted my doctor. I was on antidepressants for about three years. I did the worst thing you can do while on them. I stopped cold-turkey. I DO NOT recommend that. I went off them for two reasons: (1) I didn't want to take a pill to be somewhat happy with my life and (2) the main reason, I couldn't afford them anymore. I still know that it's okay to ask for help and most of the time I call my mom when I'm having a depression day because I need to talk to someone.

Since I had my health scare in November, I decided that 2015 was my year to focus on ME and only ME. I want to finally be happy with who I was, who I am and who I'm becoming. Tonight, my cousin got to hear me say something that I NEVER thought I would say in my life. I have started to finally be able to look in the mirror and tell myself that I'm beautiful. You have no idea how big of a feat this is for me. I HATE that word with a passion, because I've never believed it. I built up this barrier around that word and finally that barrier is cracking. I actually wake up in the morning and want to wear makeup because I like who I am when I wear it. It doesn't cover up who I am, instead makeup is showing off what makes me me.

I AM BEAUTIFUL!! Yes I'm awkward and overweight (something I'm working on) and a geek and a bookworm and an all-out weirdo and I can curse worse than a drunken sailor, but I'm a beautiful person on the inside and out and I'm okay with it. In fact, I love it. So I'm not perfect. Who is? I've never wanted to be. I am me and if you don't like, too bad.

After 23 years or more of dealing with the many, many, many, many ups and downs of depression, I'm finally starting to win the battle.

So Jared Padalecki and Stephen Amell, thank you sinceriously from the bottom of my heart for reminding me that having depression is okay and I promise that I will always keep fighting.

Racism in America

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." 

When the United States of America was formed in 1776, this was one of the main foundations to this country as it was stated in the Declaration of Independence. Granted the majority, if not all, of the men who formed this country were racist and owned slaves, but it's sad that in 239 years, we have not changed much when it comes to racism. Yes, slavery was abolished, but black people did not get the same rights as white people until more than half way through the 20th century.

I am not racist and these are just my opinions and the way I see the world today. I don't give a crap what the color of your skin is. You treat me with respect and I will return that respect. You treat me like shit and I will treat you like shit. With that said, a lot of what is in the media today pisses me off.

All of these young black people being killed by white cops has me frustrated. Not by the fact that they are dying because it's sad and horrible and shouldn't happen, but by the way everyone is reacting to it and the way the media is reporting it.

If a black person is killed by a white cop, it makes the top story in the news. If a white person is killed by a cop of any race, you NEVER hear about it. Sound fair or equal to you? Not to me.

This country is so focused on not offending anyone that we've ended up offending everyone. We all have to be politically correct that we don't even know what to say anymore.

I feel like I need to defend myself sometimes because I'm white. Most of the time I feel like I'm being punished for what white people did two centuries ago. Slavery was abolished in the 14th Amendment of the Constitution 150 years ago. As far as I know my ancestors didn't own slaves. They may have had black nannies, but even nannies back then were white. And that's only one side of my family. My other side is Irish. You want to talk about discrimination in the late 19th century and the beginning of the 20th, try coming to this country with pale skin, copper-colored hair, blue eyes and freckles. In the early 1900's most black people could get a job, whereas my ancestors faced the signs saying, "No Irish need apply." The Conscription Act of 1863 declared that white men between the ages of 18 and 45 were eligible for the draft and the poor men, most of which were Irish, couldn't buy their way out unlike the rich, but the free black men were only permitted to volunteer to join the Union Army. (Citation: Library of Congress) 

The majority of black African-Americans and white Irish-Americans have faced harsh discrimination and still do today, you just don't hear about the discrimination against white people. Think I'm wrong? Someone can set up a scholarship fund and only accept applications for black African-Americans and it's fine, but if someone sets up the same type of scholarship for only white Irish-Americans it's discrimination against people of color. Fair? No it's not.

I'm sorry that people who are not white have faced horrible things in the past and today, but does that mean that your lives matter more than the lives of white people? Lives of all people matter. Some black people lost their lives due to cops and a Hispanic cop and an Asian cop were murdered in cold-blood. Is this what defines America today? We're not perfect but what country is?

And then you have the rioting. Seriously what makes it okay to destroy other people's property and livelihood when someone is killed? According to the First Amendment of the Constitution, we have the Freedoms of speech, press, religion, and PEACEFUL assembly/protest. You aren't protected under the First Amendment if you riot and burn businesses, cars or homes. And then there is stopping traffic by blocking the cars of people who are just trying to go about their daily business. Don't disrupt my life because I choose to protest or believe a different way than you. You want to stand on a freeway where cars are going 70 MPH or faster, well... that just makes you an idiot.

With all of the situations where men and women have lost their lives by the hands of police officers, we don't know exactly what prompted the officers to shoot. Anything can look like a gun, knife or any other weapon from even a few feet away. If officers feel their lives or the lives of innocent people are at risk, they are trained to shoot. In the case of Eric Garner in New York, I disagree with the choke hold because of what happened to Mr. Garner. That never should have happened. I do agree with making it mandatory for officers to wear cameras on them. We require them for the patrol cars, why not the officers themselves? That way we could know exactly what happened and not assume the potentially wrong reason. I don't want this to come off that I'm just defending the cops because they happen to match the color of my skin. I will defend them because they are sworn to defend me and until someone gives me concrete evidence to prove otherwise, this is what I will believe. If an officer shoots first because of the race of the other person and doesn't feel threatened beforehand, they don't deserve to be a cop.

We look at ourselves as Native American, African-American, Asian-American, Latino/Hispanic-American. Why can we just be AMERICAN? I am American and I'm proud of it and I happen to have Irish, Italian, Scottish, German, English, and even a little Cherokee blood in me (what can I say? I'm a European mutt). Can we all stop focusing on the color of skin and start focusing on the things we do that makes us human. To the media, instead of saying, "An unarmed black man was killed by a white cop" how about, "An unarmed man was killed by a cop." It's not hard, but that doesn't make a very good story now does it?

Why I'm Single

I saw the hashtag #whyimsingle on Twitter or maybe even somewhere else on my computer. I'm not sure. Anybody who knows me knows I HATE Valentine's Day with a passion and why. I've written about being single before, many, many times, but for some reason I feel like this year is somehow different even though nothing has changed.

Three days ago my grandfather was admitted into the hospital with the flu and pneumonia. His prognosis wasn't good and still isn't. He's 82 years old and that combination isn't good for anyone. My grandparents have been married for 59 years. Tonight I've realized all the things Pa will probably never get to experience with me in my life; me getting married, having kids and basically being happy with my life. I'm not happy about where my life is to be completely honest.

I've also written about my depression and being an introvert. Honestly those two things have a lot to do with why I'm single. How can someone love me when I'm not in love with myself? My depression has been at its worst over the last five years or so. Eight months ago today (it does not feel like that long) I quit my job after five and a half years because I got so stressed, and because I'm a stress eater, I gained about 30 pounds in two months. Soon after I quit, my grandma and I started walking every morning and I started losing the weight that I put on. After my whole experience in November last year (see my last post), I had lost about 36 pounds since quitting my job. I've only gained back about four to six of those pounds, mostly to do with my depression. I can't exercise like I want because my lungs are not back to 100% and may never be. I have to come to terms with that.

I also need to come to terms with the fact that I am who I am and maybe there is someone out there that will love me for me. But that is the hardest thing I face in life and it is the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around.

I've never been the popular one. I was bullied and those negative statements tend to control my thoughts about how I feel about myself even today. Being told over and over and over and over that you are not pretty takes a toll on you. I lost all self-esteem about 20 years ago and I'm not sure if I will ever get that back. I cannot look in the mirror and see a pretty girl staring back. It's not possible for me to do that. Maybe that will change. Maybe not. I don't know.

I had this whole post planned out in my head while I was in the shower and now I can't remember half of the things I wanted to say. But I will start again with the title of this post.

I'm single because I just am. I've always been single. I turn 33 in exactly two weeks and I still have never had a boyfriend. I can still count the number of dates I've been on on one hand and will still have fingers left over. I have not been kissed in 11 years and even then I've only been kissed once in my life. The summary of my life is pathetic. Even if by some miracle I have children, I don't have any stories to share. I was always the odd friend out at the school dances because I never got asked and there was no way my introvert self would ask a guy. That just wasn't going to happen and still won't to this day. I will not be the one asking someone out. I am not that brave.

While I struggle with being the type of person I want to be in my head, it's not going to happen. I will never be confident enough in myself to allow another person to see the real me. One thing that goes along with depression is being able to put on a smile every day and say you're okay with everything when you're screaming "LIAR" inside your head.

There is so much I want to do in my life and while it would be great to have someone to experience them with me, I'm not sure if it will happen. People are constantly telling me that I need to stop looking and just let it happen, whatever "it" may be. That's not good enough for me. I've been waiting for over a third of my life and nothing has happened. I have a specific type of guy that I'm attracted to, but I'm invisible to them. There really isn't anything I can do to make them notice me.

I've never cared about how I look. I hate makeup and always will. I dress to be comfortable not fashionable. I don't necessarily care about the latest trends. I curse worse than a drunken sailor half the time. I am Pagan and proud of it. And yet people are always telling me that I have to change everything that makes me me. Again, I am who I am and someone will either like me or they won't. I don't want to change for anyone. Nor should I have to. I'm trying to lose weight to be healthy not to follow what society wants me to be. Society can fuck off for all I care. I tend to focus on celebrity crushes because I can't be hurt when they go off and get married to some other actress that is a size 2 or whatever.

Regardless of everything I have written, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me or have pity for me. My focus for this year is to live my life one day at a time and see where it leads me. If that happens to include a relationship great, but I'm not going to hold my breath and expect something to change.

A Thankful Yet Frightful Thanksgiving

I know it's been almost a year since my last post, but I wanted to share my latest adventure.

We have said that we are not celebrating Thanksgiving anymore. Bad things always seem to happen. Not every year, but still. Two years ago, I took my grandma to the hospital and we found out that she was having a gallbladder attack, she didn't need to have it removed, and was sent home. This year it was my turn.

For the last four months or so, I've been getting what I thought was simply nasty indigestion. I was wrong. Within one week before Thanksgiving, I had three attacks and they were getting worse every time. The Friday before the holiday, it was bad and we decided it was time to see a doctor. I didn't have health insurance, so I always go to the health clinic. They couldn't get me in for about a month. There was no way I was going to put up with this pain for another day let alone a month. Hospital was my only other choice.

The hospital were I live has not had the greatest expectations when it comes to their doctors, so I was always hesitant about going there. I've even said that I would request in my medical records to fly me to Reno or Loma Linda or anywhere if anything happened to me, just don't treat me here. I've had too many doctors in my life here tell me that all my aches and pains were all in my head. Turns out I had medical issues going on that they chose to ignore. Not right, right? I was really hesitant on this trip. Little did I know, I was about to get the best treatment I could possibly ask for.

We went in at about 10 am. They immediately ordered some tests and blood work. They even talked to my mom first and then me and got me approved for emergency state-covered health insurance so I wouldn't have to pay for most if not all of these various tests. They did a chest x-ray to make sure everything was okay with my heart. My heart was fine. Then they decided to look at my stomach and gallbladder. One ultrasound (which hurt like a bitch just so you know) and one other test that I don't know the name of (they inject you with this radioactive solution and a tracker and put you under what looks like a CT scanner and watch how your stomach and gallbladder process the solution). Turns out I had some pretty nasty gallstones and an irregular gallbladder. I had to stay overnight in the hospital (then first time since I was born) and had my first surgery in 30 years that Saturday.

My surgery went fine, even though I don't wake up from anesthesia very well, and was sent home the same day. I started recovering from that just fine. Out of the clear? Far, far from it. With any surgery, the biggest risk is developing blood clots, especially in the legs because most of the time you are sitting or lying down while recovering. The day before Thanksgiving, my left leg hurt so bad that I couldn't put a lot of weight on it. We were concerned about a possible blood clot in my lower leg. Back to the ER we go. They ran another blood test and another ultrasound (which didn't hurt quite as bad as the other) and both turned up negative. I was sent home and told what to look for if I do have a blood clot in my leg. Blood clots in my leg was the least of my worries.

I woke up early on Thanksgiving to say goodbye to my dad and brother who were heading down south for the holiday to spend time with my dad's family like we do every year. My mom and I both stayed behind because we had surgery eight days apart (she had to have her foot surgically fixed). My leg still hurt but kind of went away with some walking. Thanksgiving night, I started feeling this pain in my chest and was starting to feel short of breath. Just walking from my bathroom to the living room became so difficult that I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I don't live in a gigantic house. I do have asthma so we tried my inhaler and waited. I didn't work and I was getting worse. My mom looked at my fingernails and toenails and they were slightly blue. I didn't hesitate when she asked if I wanted her to call the ambulance.

By the time the paramedics showed up (I felt okay with them since I knew both of them) my lips were starting to turn a little blue. They started me on a breathing treatment and started to load me up so they could get me to the truck. My poor cousin came home to see the ambulance in front of our house and looked like a deer in headlights when she saw it was me they were taking. The breathing treatment started to work while we were heading to the hospital. Once in the ER, the nurses went to town on starting some tests. I was grateful that my breathing started to slow. They ran an EKG and another chest x-ray to make sure my heart was still okay and it was. Next came the CT scan of my chest. Out of all of the tests that had been ran on me in less than a week, the CT scan finally showed what was wrong.

We could hear the doctors talking outside and all we could hear was many blood clots. I was diagnosed with a bilateral pulmonary embolism. In simple terms? I have multiple blood clots in BOTH lungs. The doctor explained to us that this should not have happened in a 32-year-old or at least rarely happens. My mom, grandma and I met with a new internal medicine doctor at the hospital who told us that I would be admitted for observation. We found out later that I was his first patient to admit to the hospital. My dad and brother were going to come home the next day.

I got situated in my room around one am and my grandma and mom left at three. I tried to sleep but just couldn't fall asleep after everything that had happened. By four I started feeling my back spasm and it was getting harder to breathe. Six o'clock rolled around and I told the nurse I was having a hard time breathing. They gave me some percoset and told me to relax and try to control my breathing. The nurses kept checking my stats which were all normal. After 45 minutes to an hour had passed, I was getting worse. They gave me morphine and that immediately made me ten times worse. I was getting really pissed and irritated with the nurses even though I knew they were doing everything they could at the time. Just before nine, I felt like a fish out of water gasping for breath. I knew I was heading for disaster. The doctor came in, took one look at me and ordered me to ICU. That's when I knew how bad I was. You don't get into ICU with a minor injury.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. Everything happened so quick that the memory is almost a blur. I had five people attending to me while I attempted to breathe. Ken from respiratory therapy started a breathing treatment while the nurse gave me dilaudid, a heavy duty pain killer that is basically one step down from heroin on the drug scale of pain killers. It was hilarious when the dilaudid kicked in. My mom said that I looked like I was high, got this very relaxed look in my and then would pass out which was fine because I needed to sleep.

I stayed in the hospital for four days, two and a half of which was spent in ICU. I lost count on how many breathing treatments and blood draws I had. I was poked so many times with a needle that I stopped counting after a while. I started adding up what had happened to me over the last week and a half, all the tests that had been done, and I'm curious to know how much the bill is, I'm glad I won't have to pay it.

I was released from the hospital on December 1st and had to give myself two shots a day for five days of Lovenox. I kept telling the doctor, "you know I hate needles right? And you want me to inject myself?" He apologized and explained that the injection is quicker to take effect than the pill form. For the next six months (well five and a half at the time I'm writing this) I will be on coumadin. Sometime in June 2015 I will start some genetic testing to see why I have so many blood clots in my lungs at such a young age and if I will have to stay on coumadin for the rest of my life.

So many people were saying prayers for me during this time and I cannot tell you how thankful I am. Miracles happen every day and I'm so grateful for mine. I'm crying as I'm writing this because I know how close to death I came, but I'm here and I here because of everyone at that hospital and everyone who prayed for me. Knowing how close I came to not being here, I have to laugh because so many people say your life flashes before your eyes. Well, that may be true for some, but for me, my bucket list flashed before my eyes and even I sent up a pray to any god or goddess that would listen that I have way too much shit to do before I die and I refused to let November 28, 2014 be the end.

Before all this happened, I was planning my next tattoo. It is going to be a dandelion whose small florets turn into birds as they blow away in the wind on the right side of my chest and up onto my shoulder with the saying "Every breath is a second chance" underneath. Originally, I was going to have it represent the five years of my childhood that I spent threatening suicide and the fact that I didn't go through with it. That saying holds a deeper meaning to me now. I just have to wait until I'm off the coumadin to get the tattoo.

So to everyone who attended to me at the hospital, said a prayer, and kept me just in their thoughts... thank you.

And I have to because of the date: Happy Yule!!! Blessed be.

Run

As 2013 comes to an end, I can't help but feel the desire to run. I get this feeling a lot. It's a part of my depression and I can't help it.

It's hard to describe what goes on in my mind and most of the time, I don't know where to start. Most of the time, my mind is off in a world that cannot and will never be. Maybe that's why I always want to run. People try to cheer me up and it doesn't work; it can't. I'm sorry but it's the truth. I am an introvert and unless you are one too, you don't know how I feel all the time.

While I'm afraid to be alone for the rest of my life, it's hard for me to go out and especially meet new people. I had a lot of friends growing up, but since most of them have gotten married and moved on with their lives, I feel like I've been shoved to the side. I don't have very many friends anymore. It's hard to not feel alone, especially when someone invites you to a party and tells you to bring someone and all I think about is who?

One of the problems with living in a small town, is the fact that I've known a lot of the people my whole life. I know how a lot of guys treat women around here. It's too easy to have rumors spread about you. The worst part is that there isn't anything to do. I wake up, go to work, come home, practice the piano, go to bed and it's the same think the very next day and the day after that. The only thing really to do after work is go to a bar and drink. I don't drink very much and I don't really like being around drunk people. That makes it really hard to meet new people.

Most people don't know why I want to get out of Bishop so bad. This is why. I have lived here my whole life. I've always felt like an outcast even when I had a lot of friends. Being a tomboy, I've always known how to be another one of the guys but now I feel like I will never know what it is to be more that just that. I know I have a very specific type of guy that I'm attracted to and everyone expects me to be the one who changes. But you see that's the thing. I shouldn't have to. People always ask me why I don't wear makeup. I'll be honest. It's because when I do,for a slight moment, I actually see a beautiful women before me and it scares me. I've always felt invincible.

This is why at 31 years old, I've given up. I keep thinking that if I can just get away, I might, just might, meet someone and maybe, just maybe, I could actually be happy for once. Everyone tells me that I'm too young to give up. Honestly though, I'm almost 32 and it starts getting dangerous for women to have children around 35. If I happen to meet someone, great, but I'm not holding my breath. I don't want anyone to be upset by this. This is who I am. I am a hopeless romantic who is scared shitless of falling in love.

Online dating is pointless. I've tried many, many, many times and the type of guy that I like, isn't interested. I want someone who will keep me active, take me on hikes and thinks that taking a walk through a park is the ideal first date. I want someone who is physically fit and doesn't see me only as being overweight. I want someone who drinks only occasionally like me. I have one friend that insists that we try dating, but I don't know how to tell him that he is a friend and nothing more.

I know that I daydream about all the various actors that I like. The thing with that is that I know nothing will ever happen so when they go off and get married, I can't be heartbroken because nothing would have ever happen in the first place. I live too much inside my head which causes a lot of my wanting to run. Run away from everything. Start over and do my best to not have a permanent frown on my face. I love the people in my life, but I'm not always happy.

There are a couple of guys I like but I will never have the courage to do anything about it. One of them is a customer of mine, who happens to be five years younger than me, and the other is an online pen pal that I did actually get to meet once. It's hard being an introvert. I don't want to always be alone, but at the same time, I don't always want to be around people. It's confusing I know.

 Anyway, I think I'm going to go to bed. Tomorrow is a new year. I have big plans for myself and we'll see if I can actually stick to them.

Broken

This is the first Monday (well actually it's Tuesday because it's after midnight) of my vacation. My body woke up at 7am like normal and I just had to do something that is a first in my life. And I managed to not scream. Are you proud of me?

So it all started when I woke up to all of my blankets up around my head. If you know me, you'll know that I sleep under five blankets when it is 90-some degrees out at 3am in the middle of summer. I have 9 blankets (including the sheet) on my bed right now. I can't help it. It gets below 40 degrees right now at night. I'm surprised that I don't have more. Anyway... So I got up to fix them and as I rounded the corner of my bed, WHAM. My little toe slams right into the wheel of my luggage. I knew I needed to move that before I tripped over it. Like I said before, I didn't scream or even (really) curse.

I managed to get back in bed and sleep for another 3-1/2 hours (seriously, I'm on vacation). When I woke up, my toe was still throbbing. When I looked down, it was swollen and slightly bruised. Great. I have managed to break the first bone in my body, unless you want to count the two teeth I broke when I was seven at my babysitter from hell's house. Different story for another time. Not breaking anything for the 31 years I've been alive has been unbelievable. I'm little bit of a klutz.

The worst part about this happening now is that we will be in Disneyland on Sunday. I have to walk around Disneyland with a freaking broken toe for six days. Even my doctor was laughing at me today and both he and his wife were amazed that I got a shoe on my foot. I am determined to get throughout this without a wheelchair. Been there. Done that. Also another story for another time.

Well I probably should go to bed since the toe is throbbing. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.