Wednesday, May 07, 2003
Go Miggy... It's your birthday...!
So yeah... now it's officially my birthday. I won't turn exactly 23 until somewhere around 9 am. Yes, I was a Wednesday's child full of woe. Hopefully today won't be.I guess, since everyone will be hearing the story today from my mom, I ought to relay it to those of you poor souls who are reading right now...
Mine was a complicated birth. Late Tuesday evening, on May 6, 1980, my and her brothers decided that the best thing to do to get me to *birth* was to start dancing. All night long, they danced around the living room of my Gramma's house. All tuckered out, they fell asleep on the floor and my mom slept on the couch. Meanwhile, dad and his friend were out fishing.
Early in the morning, my mother began feeling some discomfort and made her way to the bathroom, where her *water* broke. She woke my grandparents and uncles and instructed two of them to take her to the hospital. The other two were to find my dad and his friend and get him to the hospital ASAP.
My grandmother helped her with the breathing and my grandfather stayed behind to maintain the ranch while everyone was out. Within minutes, they were in the emergency room. By that time, she was in all out *labor* ... She body began preparing for my arrival... everything but the important part. She wasn't dilating.
A couple of hours went by and still no word from my dad. And not a peep from me either. Things weren't looking so good. My mom was tiring and I was nowhere near able to come out, although I was in perfect position to come out. It just wasn't gonna happen.
Then my mom started to bleed. A lot. She was exhausted from pushing and something caused to her to hemmorage. I wasn't doing any better. The stress was making me weak. My heartbeat went from pounding to puttering. By the time my mom was a ghostly white from blood-loss, my heartbeat was almost non-existant. The doctors thought they were going to lose the both of us.
She was so tired, coming in and out of consciousness.
"Mary, you need to push... You need to try."
"We're losing him."
"Mary, come on... push."
"She's losing a lot of blood."
"Mary..."
"Lady?"
My dad had arrived. They began to tell him that it wasn't a good idea for him to be in there. But my mom's eyes shot open. She heard his voice and knew she had to try. Two little girls were at home waiting for the arrival of their baby brother. Her son needed to see his father. He needed to visit his grandparents' ranch. He had five uncles and two aunts anxiously waiting for news.
She began pushing, with everything she had. My heartbeat was so weak. But there was hope. She had to try. And so she did. And so here we are today. The both of us.
Mikey was being stupid at 12:23 AM ::
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
6 minutes until my birthday.
Mikey was being stupid at 11:54 PM ::
Monday, May 05, 2003
Your Empathy Quotient score is 59
You have an above average ability for understanding how other people feel and responding appropriately. You know how to treat people with care and sensitivity. Most women score about 47 and most men score about 42.
(Take the quiz.)
You Systemizing Quotient score is 44
You have an above average ability for analysing and exploring a system. On average women score about 24 and men score about 30. Most people with Asperger Syndrome or high functioning autism score between 40-50.
(Take the quiz.)
According to the graph for brain type, I am a "Type B(E=s)" as illustrated in this graphic:
You have an above average ability for understanding how other people feel and responding appropriately. You know how to treat people with care and sensitivity. Most women score about 47 and most men score about 42.
(Take the quiz.)
You Systemizing Quotient score is 44
You have an above average ability for analysing and exploring a system. On average women score about 24 and men score about 30. Most people with Asperger Syndrome or high functioning autism score between 40-50.
(Take the quiz.)
According to the graph for brain type, I am a "Type B(E=s)" as illustrated in this graphic:
Mikey was being stupid at 10:22 PM ::
Sunday, May 04, 2003
I smell like my mother.
Today was a mini celebration for Travis' fourth birthday -- a movie and pizza. Since his parents called only an hour ahead of time, I raced out of the house without applying my Axe deodorant spray. The theater was well refridgerated as usual, thus I had no worries about my pits staying fresh. But once we got back to the car, the muggy 93 degree weather began taking it's toll. I was sweating... uh-oh.You see where this story is going.
Yes, after heading over to my parents' house and searching their bathroom for my dad's deodorant, all I could find was a stick of Avon Skin-So-Soft.
Why is it that when I wear my own deodorant, I can't smell a thing. But once the anti-perspirant made for a woman hits my pits, that's ALL I smell. And sure it's a pleasant smell right now, but what about later in the day after I've been stressed all day? It ain't gonna be so pretty.
Mikey was being stupid at 4:55 PM ::