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Oh No!

Sunday, February 27, 2011

I told asked Cheeseboy if I could copy him and put up a vlog of a hair removal process up once I reached 500 followers on Google Friend Connect. He waxed his arm, I'm sugaring my, uh, bikini area.

Being the gracious Boy of Cheese that he is, he said yes.

Three more followers to go and I'm gulping now.

Obviously I can't show the entire process, you know, since my kids and my aunts read this, but you'll get the idea.

Oh no, off to Sugar Me I'll go. My next appointment isn't until March 17th so I have time to throw back a few shots and ready myself.


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Just The Random Shit Please

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I'm sitting on a plane on my way to Texas to see my newest niece and I can't wait! I also get to see the rest of the family and of course The Brat!

I only have random thoughts running through my mind at the moment so you, should you decide to continue reading this shit, shall be victim to my randomness. I'll save the best and most shocking item for the end. So If I were you I'd keep reading.

  • First off I really, really have to pee. Normally that wouldn't be a problem but at the moment I am, as I said, stuck on an airplane, in the window seat, by some rather large people. hmph.
  • I think that if a kid is old enough to put it's own diaper on then it's old enough to be potty trained...just sayin'. Heard that one in Target yesterday. "Put your diaper on. Good job. Now fasten the tabs. Good job." Bad parent, lazy parent, either that or a fucking brilliant infant. 
  • Why do some people seem to be compelled to give me advice that I didn't ask for? I mean, isn't that a parent's job? I don't have parents so if I want your advice I will ask for it. Now that brings me to the topic to me being a parent. Kids, remember that it's my job, since I'm your mom and all, to give you advice. Suck it up and listen because you really might learn something.
  • I've lost so much weight that none of my rings fit any longer, but that's not why I took one set off. Think on that one a while. 
  • Did I mention that I really have to pee? This is going to be a long flight. 
  • I love wearing my black nail polish. I think it fits me.
  • I LOVE my Glock!
And last, but certainly not least, what you've been reading through this shit to get to:
  • It's been almost three years since I was diagnosed with bipolar and my new psychiatrist asked me yesterday if I was comfortable with my diagnosis. WTF? Isn't that her job? She went on to say that it may only be post traumatic stress disorder, or a very mild form of bipolar and that mild bipolar is difficult to diagnose.  Well I already knew it was a mild form of bipolar. What in the hell will I do if it turns out not to be bipolar? Does that mean I lose all of my creativity? Does that mean that I won't be as outgoing? Does that mean that I'll no longer be addicted to shoes? Does that mean that I won't be me? And what about my blog title? The way I see it "The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Diva" just doesn't have the same ring to it. I kind of like my header picture with the diamonds spilling from the pill bottle too. For the record, I freaking love my new psychiatrist, she just threw me for a loop with that one.
Ok, enough random shit. Should any of you feel compelled to give me advice feel free to do so, as long as it doesn't have to do with my choice of language. I wasn't writing about any of you anyway.

Until next time,

WAIT! I almost forgot! I want you all to go look at two things. My grandson has a blog called "House Of Monkies." My friend Dee made him his page! She's awesome with that sort of stuff. So go check them  out, and follow them if ya want! I know Dee would love you to follow her, she so rocks. If you want a page made talk to her. Little Jakob can use the encouragement of new followers with all he's been through.

Love you all!



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Can Thinking Be Dangerous?

Friday, February 18, 2011

I'm lying in bed thinking, watching NCIS, ordering awesome sandals online and holding on to my "special" cat.

That's what Josiah calls my little kitten. You see, I don't want anything happening to the cat. When Josiah plays with the kitten he has to be very careful with it and put it back exactly where he got it.

The cat's been with me for about 13 years and comes out of hiding when it gets really bad. He's been with me this time around for about three weeks or so. I know it's weird but I really don't give a shit. The way I look at it is that it's a pet that I don't have to feed or clean up after. Pets are good right?






I haven't written much about my struggles with my bipolar on this site lately because I had someone I love tell me I was romanticizing it. Not sure how you can romanticize dealing with a condition like I have. But hello, the name of my fucking blog is "The Bipolar Diva." It's not all rainbows and unicorns and I really resent the fact that I have to have a "secret blog" to let out the real me, good, bad or naughty. I don't like having to worry about what people think of me, because that's not me. I'm confident in who I am and I hate that's been undermined.

I don't struggle with my "disorder" like many do, my case could be called "bipolar-lite" and is managed. I'm not psychotic and I'm not a lunatic, I'm barely "borderline" bipolar. I live a normal life in a normal neighborhood and have never been hospitalized other than going to the ER after my parents died, Isaiah died and two grand babies were born three months early all in a short period of time. 

The biggest mountain I face with the disorder is that my moods can be up and down a little more than the typical person. But the diagnosis itself can throw wrenches into a few things.

The biggest wrench is my medication. I felt SO much better before I began taking it and I'm thinking about stopping most of it. I made it for 45 years without being medicated, I think I can make it for 45 more. I want my life back, I want the side effects out of the way.

I'm not so sure, as a matter of fact I know, that's it's not my bipolar that has it's grip on me now. I've had to make some major decisions lately that will affect not only my life, but the lives of those around me and that's taken a lot out of my soul. It's left me exhausted and feeling alone and confused, not to mention scared and cautious about what lies ahead of me.

By nature I'm friendly, outgoing and daring. Lately I've been more withdrawn and wary. I don't like that, it's not me and I won't live that way. I'm usually creative and fun, but that's been scarce, probably another reason I haven't written as much on here lately.

Why did I tell you all this? I have no idea. I guess I'm just processing and tired of hiding.




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SURPRISE!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

It began innocently enough with a Facebook post while I was in Hawaii which simply said "I'm with your son right now." That was posted on the 5th of February.

It was left for me by a pretty little thing that my son had dated 7 years ago for 3 months. Her next post to me said "Hurry back ♥ "

Oh shit. I knew it. They were going to get married. I know these two kids, I know how they think. That post was on February 7th, two days after they reconnected. 

I got home February 9th at midnight and had two smiley faces waiting for me. That's when I was hit with the big news, "Mom, we're getting married Tuesday."

Tuesday was the 15th and if my math was correct it was 10 days after that first Facebook post.

They're 26. There was no use in trying to get them to wait a bit, no use in trying to talk sense into them. Did I mention they're both unemployed? Did I mention that they're both prone to impulsive behavior? Oh wait, I guess you figured that one out already. Did I mention that I really love these two kids?

Tuesday came and I downed two xanex first thing. We got to the judge's office about noonish.

The first thing we saw when we got to the judge's office was the official "Wedding Car."




I don't have a clue as to what the hell it is, but I'm betting you guys do. All I know it was true Cole and Sara.

Then I saw Sara's wedding boots.




 Once again, true Cole and Sara. If anyone could pull it off Sara could, and she did.

When everyone was present we walked through the door into the judge's small office. You see the key word here is "small."

You should have seen the judge's face. You would have thought she was watching clowns pour out of a minuscule car at the circus. People kept filing in.

In my family alone there was 16. With Cole's dad, Sara's mom and a few of their friends there were 23 of us in a room the size of a walk in closet.

Then the judge promptly got down to business. It was time to sign the papers.









Oh God, this was really happening. Did I tell you that I took two xanex that morning? Yep that would be me. Glad I did.

There was still time to run. There was still time to think through this. There was still time, still time. But oh no, the judge began to speak and I knew it was a done deal.










After the ceremony everyone was hungry. It was 1:00 in the afternoon, lunch time.

We all went to this little, non English speaking, Mexican restaurant, 22 of us. We overwhelmed the place. But again, it was true Cole and Sara.

We toasted over Cokes.



We feasted on enchiladas, fajitas and quesadillas and we celebrated the addition of my newest daughter.  



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She Hit Rock Bottom, Seriously

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Meet one of my awesome friends, Andrea. Her blog is throughbrowneyes. She's an amazing photographer and is always inspiring. I asked her to guest post for me and she's working on that, but when I saw this post of hers. I asked if I could steal it and post it too.


We were fortunate enough to meet Andrea and her way cool  family about 7 years ago. Through doing several projects for them we've become friends and I know you'll love her as much as I do. Go see her, give her some bloggy love and follow this amazing woman!

well, hello.

here’s the deal. i’ve done some stupid shit in my day. And when i say “in my day,” i’m not like an 80 year old man reminiscing to his grandson about stealing a Hershey bar from the five and dime. well, shit, i’ve done that too. though it wasn’t the five and dime cuz they didn’t have those in the early 70′s, but it was a store up at Snowbird Ski Resort where i kinda spent my childhood (Andy, remind me… what was the name of that little sundry store next to the Plaza restaurant on the second floor???). I did steal candy from there, which my mother quickly figured out since a) she’d never buy me chocolate herself, b) she knew i had no money with me at the time, and c) i had chocolate all over my face.

But i’ve done a whole bunch of other really low shit.

Here’s another one.

I was living in Nice, France my junior year in college. (yeah, super f*&king rough). We had a pack of girls that would hang out, and one of them, well, she just wasn’t smart. in a street sense. She could’ve been a goddamn einstien at math, but god knows she just didn’t know the most basic things that i’m pretty sure every human being should know.

example one:

we are walking along the beach one night, and it’s just an insanely starry sky with a full moon.

AC, “check out that moon!!!”

dumb girl (i forget her name), “i still don’t really understand how the whole moon and sun thing work. “

AC, “ “. i really said nothing.. what do you say? But INSTEAD, instead of coaching her through the whole moon rotates around the earth, earth rotates around the sun theory that we learned in, ummmm, i think 4th grade, what i did is this…

i made fun of her behind her back.

i did.

and she found out about it.

so on her birthday (which weirdly i remember was the exact day as MY birthday), i gave her a gift, but she wouldn’t take it. instead, she said these words to me:

“i’d rather be stupid than shallow.”

i don’t remember her name, but i remember those exact words like they happened yesterday. have stayed with me to this day. i cannot claim that i don’t still take a dig at someone every once in awhile. i do. i’m human, not super human. and if you’re the person, reading this, that hasn’t ever said anything mean behind someone’s back, then go to therapy. because you have. it’s not about you doing it, it’s what you learn from it.

ok, now to take it up a notch, cause i just depressed myself.

another really low thing i’ve done… shot some really cool photos!!!!

“What do you mean, AC? Taking pictures doesn’t make you an evil bitch,” you say!

so true. so, so true.

BUT… what if you got really low. like REALLY, REALLY low when taking a photo? take that goddamn camera and get down on your knees and SHOOT!!!

what do i mean? OK… let’s start at a topic. let’s bucket these bad boys.

First: let’s say you have a kid. or a nephew you adore. or a really cool cousin. And that person has an event… soccer game, piano recital, ballet performance… whatever! look around, see it from the bottom up. see it for something no one else will see!

Here’s an example. My daughter runs track. And all the parents i see there are just snapping away at pictures of their kid running around the track, or throwing the javelin, or shotput, or… ummm… whatever else.

but have you ever looked at the track from down low? check it out:






s that steam coming off the track?  woulda never noticed had i not gotten DOWN baby!






look at those cute feet!  (ok, i’ve got some issues with the brands, but the blue sneakers.. that’s my girl :)

ok, while we’re on the subject of feet, let’s stick with it.  next time you want to take a picture of a whole person, look DOWN, then squat DOWN, then snap the photo… it’s cool!

this is Nigel.  Nigel Sylvester.  He can ride a BMX  bike like nobody’s business.  seriously, he’s crazy.  google him stat.  His picture, along with a his buddy Nick Taylor (wake skater extraordinaire and featured in my “angle” post) is hangin’ out as the header of this week’s blog.

The meaning of this photo?  i shot it after we watched a screening of the documentary “Waste Land”.  to understand why he wrote “99 is not 100″ on his shoe, you have to see this film.  And it’s up for an Oscar (directed by the amazing fabulous Lucy Walker), so really… just shut up and see it.  no excuses.


 this is at Arlington Cemetary.  Changing of the guard.  took my breath away.  how many postcards do you see with this image?







(yes that is a nike tattoo, yes there is a story there).



ok, i did not take this photo.  obviously.  since they are my legs.  but it’s a good thing to think about on your next hike.  skip the lame-ass, “hey look at me with a backpack and hat on giving you the thumbs up that we made it this far” look and try for something unique.

and here, well here are a dudes legs that really turn me on – found this guy in our friends’ driveway last week… just, i dunno, “lurking” there…




Next: WEDDINGS.

seriously, fellow amateurs.  this is a perfect time to try this angle.  because think back to the last wedding album you saw.
Here, i’ll help.

the bride and the groom the bride kissing the groom the brides hand on the grooms hand the group photo of all the bridesmaids the bride with the father the father giving the toast and the groom going oh shit and the groomsman dancing with the flowergirl and the really drunk groomsman doing the moonwalk etc. etc. etc.
we got it.

try for the feet. just the feet.  have you ever noticed how beautiful the bottom of a white wedding dress is against a shiny pair of black shoes from the groom?  (thanks for the example, Matt & Ash – cutest couple ever).





and now for my next topic, one of my favorites… the “TOTALLY RANDOM SHIT” photography, from a super low angle, of course (god forbid i veer off topic… sheesh).
last sunday, waffles gone awry (it was a new waffle iron… leave me alone).










next… all the shit on a table at a meal.  this is what i call the “ratatouille view”.
i just made that up.  i don’t really call it that.  i was just thinking what kind of thing would see a table from this view, and i thought of a rat, and that’s the only rat name i know.




ok. one more.  i took this on my run last weekend w/ my iphone.  running along Skyline, and there’s this damn heart box.  i just fell in love with the potential story of how this got here.  and the path was lined with moss… so i just stopped running, got down on my knees, put the phone level with the pavement, and shot the photo.



and now for my favorite favority fave subject… animals!  this is the BEST of ALL TIMES way to use this trick, because animals are always low to the ground and if you have really dumb ones like me, they just sit there and let you do shit with them.  don’t care.  don’t ask to take a break and go have a smoke.  don’t whine.  don’t do shit.  this would be the opposite of working with a supermodel, i would assume (based on my extensive research of reading US magazine for a bunch of years).

here’s what you do.  when your cat or dog or llama or goat or whatever is just laying there, put the camera on the carpet, lay down, and snap the photo.  Use props.  i do.  it’s more fun.  since i don’t have a llama or goat (though i need a couple to come eat my blackberry bushes so contact me if you have one), i’ll use my dog and cat as examples.
cat + chair prop



dog + ball prop

(so close, yet so….far)

dog + wine prop

(my wine.  dog doesn’t drink… or does he…)

i actually got this one tonight… about 30 minutes ago.  drinking wine (as per…), ran downstairs to refill, was coming back UP the stairs, and Kelby was just layin’ there.  bored out of his mind.  so i ran back down to the table, grabbed the camera, put the wine glass there (he still didn’t move), et voila.  (if you need to borrow him to try this, he’s available for a small fee of a milkbone).

oh, wait… let me end with this one.  my daughter took it this weekend before my run.  i’m stretching, the damn dog comes to the stairs to check out wha’s up, and Savannah ran and got the camera, squatted down, and shot this.  brilliant.



so there you go.  By the way, all of these photos (with exception of the one noted of my feet on the hike) used tips from all my previous blogs.  Cropping, editing, shooting at an angle, tint + temperature, and of course ol’ faithful, Camerabag.  it’s so easy.  even my dog could do it.

as for you all… the 2250 plus that have read my crappy stories and especially those of you that have applied even the smallest thing you’ve learned from my blogs… i am indebted and so thankful for you.
it’s ok to hit rock bottom, long as you learn from it and continue to look up.  it’s the only direction to go.

Peace,

AC

Now, Diva Decree here, go visit Andrea. You'll love her sense of humor and her amazing outlook on the world, plus she's pure awesomness! Let her know I sent you, I'll be forever grateful!

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Diva, Daiquiris and Dilemmas

Monday, February 14, 2011

You know about me surfing, yea me! 





You know about my lying in the sun. 



And you know about me drinking too many daiquiris with rum floaters and falling on my ass. 



What you don't know about yet is my trip to Chinatown.

Yes, my trip to Chinatown. What an experience, at least for a Diva. I didn't rent a car while I was in Hawaii so trying to figure out just how to get to Chinatown was a dilemma. It was too far to walk and the trolley was $30 for a day pass. The guy at the desk suggested the city bus.

That sounded like quite the adventure, I'd never been on a city bus before and for $2.50 round trip it sounded like a barn busting deal.

The first thing I noticed on the bus was a smell. I'm not sure if it was just the way the bus always smelled or if it was the smell of the guy that decided to put his crotch in my face.



See how close he was to my knee? He was totally invading my space bubble and my my nostril saving bubble. I have a feeling though that he was looking down my dress.


The next thing I noticed was the emergency exit.



It was on the ceiling of the bus and pretty damned small. As I looked around the I realized that not many of us would be able to get out of the bus through that emergency exit. First of all, none of us appeared to have the superpowers of Spiderman so I'm not sure how we would get up there. Next, most of the people near me would never be able to fit through the exit. So much for the intelligence of the emergency exit engineer. He was probably a skinny guy with gecko pads for fingers and toes.

Then I gasped at the sin of all sins. A fake Louis Vuitton!



There's another story attached to that fake Louis, but I'll save it for another time. I'll just say that someone showed their true colors and the showdown was on. Gucci came to my rescue and saved the day. 


Finally we reached my stop. I was never so glad to get out of a vehicle in my life. On to Chinatown to check out the markets. I was hungry and was looking for two types of fruit, one was Mangosteen. Don't have a picture of that one since everyone was OUT of the damned things. Then the other fruit is one I haven't a clue as to what it's called but it looks like this:



If any of you know the name of the mysterious fruit let me know, it's my favorite fruit ever! I wonder if I can find it around Portland? I grabbed a bunch of them and began my trek through the markets. 

The first thing I saw was pretty unappetizing and damn well creeped me out:


I'm not eating a frog and I'm certainly not taking a live one home to cook.

Next wasn't too creepy I just wondered what in the hell they used these things for:


I guess maybe soup or something. Then I went around the corner and the creep-out factor magnified exponentially. You're going to have to scroll down for this one.

















At that point I was out of there. Back to the bus and to the restaurant at the hotel. The pig's head with blood dripping from his nose was a bit too much for me.



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Daiquiri Danger

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

It seems that having four "Dig Me" daiquiris with rum floaters wasn't such a good idea for me last night.

Yeah, it was a lot of fun, lot's of laughing, dancing, eating and letting go of all of the tension of the past months.

Afterward I made my way back to my room. I climbed into bed and was asleep in no time.

The thing about drinking anything means that it has to come out. I hate getting out of bed to go to to the bathroom, but it had to be done.

As soon as I walked through the bathroom door I was on the floor. I'm not sure why I fell, but I ended up flat on my butt with my legs straight out in front of me. I cut my hand and have a nasty bruise on my arm. I have no freaking idea how it all happened.

I guess no more floaters on daiquiris for me. Good thing I go home tomorrow, I think.


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