What a difference a year makes

Remember those great magazines: 'Highlights'?  Personally I spent most of my time on the pictures where you had to find what was different.  In honor of that here is my own version.

Riden my Ohio double wide

Notre Dame and walking along the Seine

For all of you that struggle with social norms, this is one of few times you can say a woman has gained weight.  You are able to say this due to an illness.  

You're welcome, people everywhere.

What a difference a year makes.  As I sat in that wheelchair I knew I would get better.  But I didn't know when or how.  I saw my friends advancing in their careers, falling in love, buying homes, and traveling.  It felt like I was being held back.  For no reason.

To think that now the only thing holding me back is money is awesome.  And no that doesn't mean I plan to pay for a boyfriend.  Although the massage I got in India skirted the line.

Cheers to the possibilities this next year holds.

A Taj Mahal Picture Story

Driver: Oh you are not married?
S: Damn it how did I forget to put on my fake wedding ring! 'Oh I am I was just concerned about too much jewelry.' Said the girl wearing a giant pink and gold necklace. Smooth

Welcome. Interesting fact, this was created because a man's dying wife asked him to promise he would make something in her memory.  And people say I expect too much in a relationship?!

 The tour guide asked me to remove my hat after a line of people formed asking to take pictures with me.  Keep an eye on your Indian and Australian facebook friend's pages.  Its like Where's waldo of the purple hat!

Did you know you are not allowed to take paper into the Taj?  Not even beautiful 'Happy Birthday Mom' signs.  Happy Birthday Mom!

We all make choices.

Situations, events, people constantly present or force themselves into our lives, but the responsibility for what happens after that is solely up to us.  

Por ejemplo, your boyfriend could break up with you the night before you leave the country for 3 week and 2 weeks before your 30^th birthday.  That happened to my friend, her name is Sadie.  So weird that we have the same nam!. Less than 24 hours into being in India I have gotten sick and had my debit card stolen.  Swiper no swiping.  

As a very self-reflective individual here is what my 20s have taught me: we all make choices.  

I could choose to flip the fuck out and be angry.  But for all of those who know me, you know that I have already tried that path.  It ain't so pretty.  Kinda like this frumpy ass outfit I wore today.

This guy is a great guy.  He just didn’t fall in love with me.  And yes since I have emotions that is sad.  Not having access to any cash in a foreign country while traveling alone is a bit uneasy.  But there is so much in my life that isn’t sad or easy. Such as billing internet and room service to your job and drinking wine while gchatting friends. Why focus on what you don't have when you have so much?  Instead of being angry I choose to toss a lil shade (oh I know I did it),  listen to a little T Swift, and then enjoy India.  At least what I can without money!   

Style challenge accepted. Bon Voyage America.

My fav roommate of all times taught me a lot of things.  Most importantly: how to dress for my body.  She took a frumpy gal from Ohio and taught me to dress.  Thank you.

Tonight I secretly wish I still had a closet full of ill fitting clothes.  Instead I have a closet full of flattering clothes.  Which is great in the US of A.  You know where it isn't great?  Rural India.

I leave tomorrow armed with 2 maxi dresses and a jumpsuit.  For 2 weeks in India....  That means I will be doing some shopping.  However, until I can shop I plan to wow you with my ability to style a thrift store jumpsuit in so many ways you question my hygiene.

Every style blogger has their own style if you will.  Here are the 5 items dictating my style:

1. I am going to be staying in a region thats temp is 115 degrees,
2. Sun burn, (check the pigment or lack there of)
3. Taking Lyme and malaria meds,
4. Said meds make me pass out in heat and more likely to burn, (as if I needed help with that)
5. I need to be covered ankles to elbows.

So dear readers, for the next 3 weeks, depending on access to internet I plan to regal you with my styling wonders!

Bon Voyage

Oh, you still have a blog?

Denial ain't just a river in Egypt folks.  

You know what makes someone feel sick?  Writing a blog about being sick.  The minute I declared myself in remission I threw up some duces and peaced out.  I spent so long 'not living' that all I wanted to do was live.  And live I did. 

I started biking to work again, roughly 5 miles each way.  Previously, I would bike to the gym, take a class, bike to work, work, happy hour, then bike home.  Hilarious.  I tried to bike to work and then do 20 minutes of pilates one day.  Hilarious. I couldn't feel my legs, got light headed, and resigned myself to the floor for an hour.

The new job is amazing.  My friends are even happier than I am, since I finally have an outlet to discuss STIs, birth control, and sex besides with them.  You're welcome.  

I started to relax my strict diet (no gluten, sugar, caffeine, alcohol) after I declared myself in remission. Work started to ramp up and things got real.  More importantly, I made the silly choice to put work email on my phone and work on weekends.  So silly.  It culminated on a Tuesday.  There was a going away party for a lovely co-worker.  I came down at 4:30 in a mood.  I looked around the room and saw a full bar, and then to the right I saw them.  They were giving off a lovely glow of goodness.  The stress won.  And I went for it. I didn't have just one as I normally do when I 'cheat'.  I had 15.  Sometimes eating 2 at a time.  Licking my fingers without an ounce of shame.  My friend tried to stop me.  But I wouldn't listen.  Instead I poured a gin and tonic to wash them down.  And by gin and tonic, I mean gin. 

Do you know what happens when someone with Lyme eats 15 girl scout cookies, drinks 2 gins, and then bikes home?  Happy memories.  Thats what happens.  I don't believe in regrets when it comes to girl scout cookies.  Blasphemy. Thin mints and gin are an amazing combination.  And for 5 days I accepted the red spots on my face with joy.

I take comfort in the fact that moving on is difficult for all of us.  As made evident tonight by the man across the street shouting on my neighbor's stoop, 'bitch why ya gotta do me dirty?'  The woman shut her window, and the man stood in the dim porch light for several minutes. To the left.  To the left. 

Yes, I did pick up my glass of wine. Head to my window, and watch.  It's how I was raised.  Keeping an eye out for your neighbor and all that.

I got a job!

I like to start my day with 'Detox' tea from Yogi.  The teas have encouraging statements.  And as anyone who is job searching knows, you desperately need encouragement.  Job searching is the equivalent of ripping your soul out anew each day.  Today's message meant something amazing was bound to happen.

Damn straight I am unlimited!  I got the call I have been desperately waiting for like a pre-teen with acne and no confidence.  I got a job!

I love celebrating.  I'm great at it.

I began a bit cliche - dancing on my bed.  Simultaneously calling and leaving ridiculous voicemails that no one would ever be able to understand.  Popped open some red, who cares if they offered me the job at 1 in the afternoon?  Then cheated on my lyme diet in the best possible way - cheese coneys.  Splurge for a mani pedi and take to craigslist to find an apartment.  Go out to a fancy dinner and play - Book of Mormon (AMAZING).  Then realize I have 2 days to pack and move. Thankfully, I am the worlds greatest mover.  Or shall I say most frequent mover?

Grateful.  I am so unbelievably grateful.  I know that there are so many others who wish they could go back to work and independence.  I hope that day comes for you so very soon.  I also am grateful because I know I couldn't be here without the help of so many.  Mainly my parents for taking me in and nursing me back to health.  Friends for reminding me that this day would come and making me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry.  I'm grateful.  High five.

Proud. I came out on the other side of this Lyme disease shit guns blazen.  Don't worry its just a metaphor, lyme didn't alter my brain that much. I was bound and determined.  I worked my ass off networking and it has paid off.  I didn't just get a job.  I got the job.  I am going to be working with a great company to reduce maternal mortality in 25 developing countries.  Travel? Yes please.

My closet is empty.  My car is packed.  I am ready for this.  Well, I will be.  That is after a 5 day vaca on a tropical island! Life is for celebrating :)

$150 for a 3 minute conversation: Bitch please.

I lived in Seattle for a while.  A friend recently sent me a map to visually demonstrate why things didn't

work out for me there.  Shit.

My Lyme doctor is in New York.  The closest doctor that would treat me, without a 3 month waiting period, was 12 hours away.  That was fine.  I was sick and found someone to sign on the dotted line so I could get the treatment I decided I needed. Oh yea, thats how this blog is starting.  Pure sass.

Since deciding for myself that the time had come to remove the PICC line - I have been taking an oral antibiotic twice a day for two months.  I was reaching the end of my prescription so I call my doctor's office.  They refused to refill my prescription unless I come into their office.  I calmly informed them that they are 12 hours away and that is quite the expense to have a prescription refill.  She said they would be happy to do a phone consult.  Oh and that phone call, despite only being 3 minutes, will cost me $150.  When I pointed out they still had not sent me my receipt for my last phone consult she informed me there would be no receipt for phone consults.  Aka no chance of insurance reimbursement.

This was the tipping point.  I didn't care she was 12 hours away.  I took my earrings out.

I'm a logical person.  Of course your doctor needs to see you every so often for liability purposes.  If I was taking, um I don't know Vicodin, then sure - let's chat once a month. But real talk.  I am being treated for a chronic disease!  If that shit went away after 28 days I wouldn't be paying your ass out of my dwindling pocket.  More importantly I would be going down the road to any ole doctor who takes insurance.

With that being said.  Today I am officially drug free for the first time in 10 months!  I stopped taking my antibiotics.  Before you reach for your wallet - I have $150.  I do.  But Lyme disease is a continuous cycle leaping and hoping.  There are no tests or protocols for me.  So its up to me to summon the courage take and leap stop a med and hope that I will be okay.  

Off the proverbial ledge I go!  And if any of you dare say my doctor did me a favor to spur on this courage I have two words for you: Bitch please. That courage is all mine.