I went to the ear doctor yesterday

to get my ears sewn up. My ears have been "almost ripped through" since I was in 8th grade. I always felt it had to do with wearing very heavy 80's earrings from the Asian store up the street. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Mike said "Elisabeth, you have to your ears fixed. I can't keep trying to buy you stud earrings". And I thought about it and realized, yeah. A whole new world of earring fashion could be mine if I had regular earring holes.

On the other side of my ear issues, I am a borderline canidate for a hearing aid. I've always had hearing problems. (details are two posts below, headed in pink).

So, yesterday I went in and had it done. This is my story.

My doctor really didn't tell me much. He had a student in with him and was very focusted on her. While I was being prepped, I said "I wanted to ask you about the balance problem in my ears. I know there's nothing that can be surgically done for the hearing, but is there anything that can be done for my balance issues? I'm always sniffing to try to adjust the sounds in my ears". He said "Yes, actually you can have tubes put in." I said "I had those when I was younger" He said "It's okay, sometimes people get them many times in their lives. What I like to do is make a small puncture in the ear drum and let people try it out for a week to see how they feel. It usually takes about 2 weeks to heal. I can do the procedure today, while you're here".

So, I decided okay. Let's get all this ear crap over with. I told him okay and he began with the rips. He sewed them up, all the while chatting with the student. At one point I interjected (realizing, he'd told me nothing about this) "Will there be a scar" and he said there would be for awhile but it would to away totally. Then he was done and he moved onto procedure #2.

He started prepping me and said "I'm going to put a topical anesthesia on your ear drum" I said "Will this hurt" He said "I'll tell you before I do it. Yes, you'll feel it". I said "Will this be unbearable pain?" and he said "I'm going to do it now" and
IT WAS UNBEARABLE PAIN! I was almost shaking. It took a second though and he said "You might hear a muffled sound in your ear.

A muffled sound? I could barely walk! My one ear was much louder than my other one (and still is) and when I would "sniff" to balance, a stream of air went directly inside my head. I couldn't listen to them. I stumbled out of the office to Anthony who was going to fix a layer on my hair. I walked my bike, totally unable to ride.

I walked into Anthony's almost screaming because I couldn't guague my loudness saying "Anthony I feel like I'm on drugs. I can't hear, I got my ear drum punctured and my rips sewn up" and I stumbled to the chair. Anthony was very kind and told me it was okay if I acted like I was on drugs. I went on and on about how shocked I was that the doctor didn't warn me of the "after effects" of these minor things. At the end, I realized everyone in the salon had stopped talking and was simply listening.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find blood all over my pillow. I am in massive pain and my ears look like Frankenstein's forehead.

More later. Mike is working and kids are awake. More about the band showcase Phil and I are planning.

Dream about Audrey

I was in LA, and this girl came over to Audrey's house. She was there to buy this strange radio like thing that Audrey had on her wall. Except, it wasn't really a radio. It was like a transmission receiver thing. Audrey told me the girl wanted to pay $50,000 for it and she was so excited.

I went to Audrey's house (which was big and beautiful) and the check was sitting on the table. Audrey brought me into her kitchen secretly to show me. I was so excited because this radio thing (which was next to an under-counter kitchen radio) was hanging off the wall with all these wires coming out. I knew it was worth something, but $50,000 seemed insane. It did something with transmission and was high tech, but old high tech.

The girl had a very big, round, pug nose..mousy blonde/brown short hair, glasses, and was sort of in a hippie, earthy fashion -- but not done well. I was sitting in this waiting area and I heard them talking in the kitchen. The girl was saying she would be getting her paycheck the next week and I heard mumbling. All of the sudden, the girl came in smiling and Audrey motioned I should come into the kitchen.

Audrey whispered that the girl had somehow convinced Audrey to go online (possibly on this weird radio thing) and buy tickets to Puerto Rico (or some place like that) for her family because she was trying to make her boyfriend's family like her. She promised Audrey she'd pay her back the next week. I remember $700 coming into play and I'm not sure if it was per ticket or for all the tickets. Anyway, the girl saw us talking and started trying to "bond" about men saying "You know how you'll do anything for a guy. Well I love this guy and I just want him to love me. He's so beautiful. He's half Puerto Rican and half Irish". All of the sudden, the boyfriend came in the house. He was cute, sort of. He had very light blue eyes and blonde hair. He didn't look at all mixed like she was saying.

The girl managed to get invited for dinner, and there was this huge bag of fresh turkey meat on a shelf. I thought they may have brought it. I heard her say to her boyfriend "Oh, just ask Audrey, she can afford it." My mom was there all of the sudden too. I was like "What are you talking about" the girl said "All this. Her huge house. The black counters in the kitchen". I said "How dare you. They busted their asses to get where they are now. I watched them. They gave up everything. And if you had any idea of how much of the things you're seeing are used in here, HOW DARE YOU". And I grabbed her by the collar, and clutched her neck and threw her against a wall.

I sneered, grabbing her collar more tightly, "I know you think Audrey is so sweet and likes to help people, but I like to hurt people". She was looking up at me scared with her ugly big, pug nose that squashed her face. Our faces were like an inch a part and I grabbed her collar tighter. i said "If you don't pay her back in one week for this, I will find you and hurt you".

She got up, brushed off and walked out of the room and went upstairs to consult with her boyfriend. I went into the kitchen and told Audrey that I felt that she was being taken advantage of and Audrey listened. I was like "Audrye, just call the airline and tell them your kids called and booked the tickets". The two came down. The girl said "I'm still going to stay for dinner. I think we can work this out".

All of the sudden, this Puerto Rican old lady came into the house and everything got kind of crazy because she was old. The couple left.

So we called the airline to cancel the tickets and we had someone pretending to be an old Puerto Rican woman (I feel like it was THAT girl, but I don't see how that would make sense). We said "Someone made reservations. They might have called me "Nana" or "Mi Abueleo" or something, but we need to cancel the tickets" in a very thick accent like a very old lady. The woman on the other end said "You should know, we dont take reservations".

Things to note:

1. My mom appeared when I defended Audrey and was pleased with my verbal actions.
2. We didn't kick them out of the house. I felt it was akward and couldn't do it.
3. The girl looked very much like this girl that used to like Mike a long time ago.
4. In the end, we didn't know where the money went.
5. I didn't live in LA. Audrey's house was huge and beautiful and they were doing well, but not rich.

I get into these funks sometimes

when I don't write a lot. I stop thinking about things. I am just doing. And during these times, I think of things and promise myself to think about them more later. It's weird, when I was little, I remember hearing people say "I'll have to think about that" and that combination of words being so confusing to me. Scheduling a thought? I always thought it was just some kind of an excuse that adults used because you can think whenever you want to. I always felt, don't you know what you think?

As I'm getting older, I get it. I understand why you would intentionally think about something, particularly when making a decision. I also understand trying to remember something which is really hard for me. My memory is so bad, it's actually scary. I have no short term memory and this includes names, events -- almost everything. And what freaks me out is sometimes what I remember isn't what happened. I'm going to be one of those old ladies with glory years stories that didn't happen. For that reason, I'm going to write them down.

Best Burger in Philly night: I took my friend out for his birthday to have the "best burger in Philly". It's supposed to be this one. Not only was this not the best burger in Philly, it was totally disgusting. It was filled with a gob of blue cheese. I ate 3 bites of mine and was done.

Kutztown Daytrip: Chris, Seph, Emily, Ethan, Emmett and I went to Kutztown for the folk fest. But it wasn't happening, so we ended up going to the Airport Diner, Renningers and to some weird Mennonite lady's house that had rooms and rooms of junk for sale. It was fun. I can't remember why, but I think music had something to do with it.

N o Sw eat Conference: We went to the N.S. Conference last week and made Living Room Clothing T-shirts. I was there for an hour and left stating to Mike "I hate these people". And I do. I hate them because they hate me. And they hate me becuase I'm trying to start a business and they think I should be in some kind of non profit organization. I could go on and on about how this mentality is so backwards to me, but I think you can fill in the gaps. The world needs both.

Kalpoona's Visit: Kalpoona came and visited after the conference. Kalpoona is the woman from Bangladesh that we're trying to work out a factory with. And we did. We did it while she was here. In the meantime, I'm going to post myspace pictures of my family in full Bangladesh garb including me in a full Sari (including balloon pants). I love Kalpona. I love that this is all happening.

Living Room T-shirts are in:Our first organic run is in. The sizes are slightly off, so we're selling them cheaper. We have black and white, organic shirts and I'm trying to think about what to do with them. They're perfectly made, I just like my clothes a tiny bit bigger. So. If you want one, these are $10 each. (They're blank).

Jess & Colin's New House: Friday night, jess and Colin had a little gathering to Christen their beautiful, new house. I felt the community I always want to feel going over there, sitting in the backyard and hanging out. My kids were there, some of their friends were there. It was just fun and laid back. No pretension. No pressure to look good. In fact, I was wearing different color flip flops, not on purpose. This is a true representation of my life right now.

Trip to Cantina with Chris & Phil: I begrudgingly went to the Cantina with Chris and Phil and had a good time, despite the fact that they never played my dollar costing juke box songs. I feel like some strange version of a new SEinfeld with them, but it's not Seinfeld, it's something else. Chris slept over and we hung out the next day. I wish she lived with me.

Work: I've been working for Dre xel at home which has been going pretty well. Each week, I'm getting about 10 hours from them. Last week, my paperwork with Com cast was finished and I'm going to start working with them in the next week or so. I'm very excited about this. In the meantime, Mike is home on and off. He's totally freelance now and it's working out okay. It's just hard to plan things like doctor's appointments or my work schedule. If he has to work, he goes in.

Hearing Test: As most of you know, I can't hear well. As I put it to Emmett, "I'm not good at hearing". I haven't had a hearing test done in years, but I decided I should deal with the grim reality. So, I hauled my kids up to the hearing doctor and got the test. I promised Emmett one dollar if he would help me with Ethan while I was inside the test. And he entertained him like he was being paid (which he was). After the test, the woman came out and sat down with me. "You do have some hearing loss". She said. "Specifically, you can't hear consanant sounds. (As she was saying it, I was realizing I couldn't hear HER consananat sounds very well). "At this point, you could opt for a hearing aid". She showed me my chart. "It's not going to get any better. Some people may choose to get one at this point. If you feel this isn't interfering with your life, you might want to wait." WTF. It is interfering with my life. I can't hear people, fill in blanks, and look stupid because I'm not getting it or am not hearing them, but I WILL NOT GET A HEARING AID AT 35. As we walked out, I became super atune to my hearing. She said "You can wait xxxxxxxxxx here". I couldn't hear if she said "right here" or "over there". I guessed, and started moving my kids "over there". She looked at me and said "No, right here and pointed". There's an example. So, I'm not getting a hearing aid and just so everyone knows, if you can please talk loud and understand that I'm really NOT dumb, I probably just can't hear you and (without even knowing it) am filling in the words I can't hear. At the end, I was presented with a form that said "Borderline canidate for Amplification".

Windsheild: The guy came to fix our cracked windshield on our car. He put the new one in, and it cracked again. he's coming today to put a new one in. I love my minivan. We just had it in the shop. I don't know that I will ever drive a different type of car. When Mike brought up that we'll have to get a new one soon, I said "I want the same one. Same year. Same model".

Mike's Birthday: Mike's birthday was yesterday and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I did things with attention. I spent last week trying to get him a cool t-shirt (impossible with this 80's thing). I literally saw a neon yellow Urkel shirt in Urban Outfitters with hot pink "spray paint" style letters. I can't stand the 80's thing unless it's for ironic (not iconic) purposes. And I think what hhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifappens is you start out being ironic and end up actually in the fashion. Like you can't tell anymore. You're just doing the 80's thing and no one knows you're being sarcastic because it's an actual fashion. But I digress. Here's what happened: Saturday night we all went out for a Surprise Adventure Tour to a comedy club called "Heluim" followed by a dive bar, Doobies, then back to my house. It wasn't the event I originally planned which involved a Limo and a trip through Mike's history via cleverly named locations, but it was still extremely fun. Then, there was drama which I won't even get into. But what do I expect. I'm always around it but realize all I want is peace and harmony. Sunday, we gave Mike his presents. Emmett picked out Obey bathing suit shorts which Mike really liked. I gave him 2 shirts and a pair of jeans from Urban Outfitters. I also showed him this tee, which I almost bought him, but wanted to check with him first. He loves the tee, which I'll order. He loved the (Levis 527 - Jade, on sale at Urbanoutffiters.com, but not on sale in the store). He loved the one shirt when he found out it was $9.99. He didn't love the other one. He felt like people would think he was gay. (It was a collar shirt with these human headed animals froliking around). I took him to Grasshopper to show him a jacket I considered getting him, then to Urban to show him the other things and return the shirt and exchange the pants (since, as I mentioned, I paid 46 for them, but on line they were 29.99). Easy and done. Then, jess and Colin came over, Mike made shishkabobs (I helped), we had cake, and I gave him his fixed amp. He was so happy.

It's taken me a long time to write this. I'm sure it's boring. It's really for myself so I can remember these things. Mike is now down here reading some boring papers. That's why I love this guy. He reads boring papers and finds them interesting. He doesn't have ADD. He doesn't need action. He's calm, peaceful, cultured and has amazing taste in almost everything.

This part is all about my kids.

The summer is going so fast. I continue to struggle with playing. Emmett asks me to play and I can't seem to play like him. He plays where, most of the time, he's telling me what's happening or how to play. I keep saying "Emmett, let's just actually play".

In addition, I've begun introducing my Greek side to Emmett. That side is tough, blunt and straight. It's how my grandfather was and it's how I am too. Instead of faking this sugar sweet persona all the time, sometimes I allow myself to say "Emmett, I'm doing something. Wait and leave me alone and then I will help you." And he's responding to it. It's working. He's starting to understand that it's not mean. And he's doing it back. 'Mommy...wait a SECOND. I don't want to talk right now".

I called to get Emmett skateboarding lessons and breakdancing lessons and will sign him up as soon as they get back to me. All he really wants to do is boyscouts, but he's too young. I can't wait until he's old enough. He will get so into it.

In August, I'm sending him to the Franklin Institute camp for 2 weeks. Emmett is so cute with how great he thinks skaters are. Once he said "Mommy, look there's a real live skater!" Yesterday he said, "Mommy, I think that was actually Tony Hawk on that skateboard". Emmett continues to amaze me with how intrinsically cool he is. He is a genuine artist, even at this age. He spends a great deal of time drawing and painting. And he'll do these little details that remind me of my dad. He'll color something in and make the tip of it neon green. Or he'll draw all these little boxes and color them in in this scratchy (intentionally) kind of way. He's drawn to the music I like. He's slightly rebellious (I'm dealing with this). He's also very sensitive. I'm also dealing with this. As a sensitive person, I'm trying to help him build some defenses in that area. I don't want Emmett to go through life feeling hurt or being the weak kid. I want him to learn how to react strongly from a young age, so this is part of what I'm working on. In addition, I've (almost) successfully taught him the alphabet by flash card. Every morning we work on it and when we don't, he reminds me.

When we were shopping for Mike's presents, Emmett was "helping me" the whole time. I explained to him what we were looking for and he kept presenting me with possibilities. I told him we're looking for something that wasn't too loud. I explained we wanted an image in low contrast. For father's day and for this birthday, Emmett ended up picking out two things that mike loved. They passed my test and I think they're even more special to Mike in that they came from Emmett.

The pool is not as big a deal this year as it was last year. I think I need to have an all day pool party open house for Emmett and his friends. Maybe on a Saturday, I'll make a 12-4 pool party for him, just because. He has so much more fun with a friend in there.

Now. Onto Ethan.

Ethan, my baby. He is so big. So cute. So boyish and brute. A week ago, he started crawling. Now he's actually pulling himself up to stand. He literally, stands up and tries to walk. He's very silly and funny. He thinks I am a standup comedian when I play certain little games with him in the morning, specifically the "Surprise" game. I put him down to change his diaper and say "Do you have a surprise in there for me?". Then I open it up and close it really fast. He thinks this is the funniest thing ever and is particularly into the game if he has poop. He tries to talk constantly. He says Dada (sort of) and sings along with his mobile. This is the cutest thing ever. I sing my own version of "It's a small world" to a changing table mobile that "kind of" sounds like that song, and Ethan literally sings along. He's okay in the car. He's okay with almost everything. He doesn't complain. Sometimes, if we don't understand him, he gets frustrated. Bottom line, he's like a good old boy. He's cool with everything. He doesn't mind getting hurt (which has happened accidentally). He doesn't mind falling backwards. he doesn't mind a thousand kisses. If I'm laughing, he's laughing. The child (literally) wakes up smiling. Thank you God!

Yesterday, we all went out shopping with Mike and I (for the first time ever) really felt like the female of our family. I was very aware that I was the one that was leading my boys around. And they are my boys and, I'm the one that cares the most, so they let me do things my way. I decide the outfits. I decide the activity. I call what, when, where and why because I'm like their little bee with these guys...that are really just guys.

I really, really love my family.

Picture is from when Kalpona was visiting. She gave us all Bangladesh clothes

It was my last Ani DiFranco show

ever. I knew that when I went. I wanted to say goodbye to that part of my life officially. I have grown past Ani DiFranco in many ways. What she represented in my life was a period of female angst, frustration, wildness and rebellion. So, my friend and I went to the show and a very strange thing happened.

Rather than "saying goodbye" to Ani DiFranco and that time, being at the show brought me back into a period of my early 20's. I lost the person I am now and I became the person I was then. So in a bizzare way, I don't think I have an association to that music outside of what it was. I still love it, but I can't be in it like I used to be.

My thoughts have been going deeper and deeper lately. I am in a constant state of analysis. I am recognizing the realness of God in people. I used to be so into Objectivism in the empty one dimensional side of humanity. But now I'm seeing the opposite. I'm seeing how important people are and how meaningful interactions can be.

It's so silly, my life, really. I am so caught up in email, shallow situations and proving things. Aside from my family, my focuses are very immature. I want so much right now to be serious all the time. i want to find deeper realities that exist outside of my head. I want to feel things more. I want to feel God more. Overall, I just want to feel more -- and feel more of the wholesome things. I want to feel more of the things that make me feel like laughing and crying at the same time.

I'm still

sorting myself out. I am having a hard time feeling silly right now. Something in me has changed with this woman's death.

I think I've closed off my deeper side for awhile now. It's been replaced by a surface light, fun and focus on humor. I went through something a long time ago where I was very, very deep all the time...enjoying the company of others only for productive purposes (projects). And at the end of that 1 year stint, I vowed that I would live lightly and not carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was a dark and very alone period and overriding it was Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism and the whole Camus extentialism.

I feel like I'm opening that side of myself for the first time in 10 years, but there's something different now. It's a focus on God, spirituality and meaning. My first round was based on a distaste for people and human activity and the meaninglessness of it. But now it's the opposite. I feel aware of the meaningfulness of human activity and interaction where God is involved.

I am entering a new phase now. I don't know how my silly side will fit into all this, except that there may be an awareness that it's covering what is underneath.

I don't know that I've ever been more profoundly touched by a person than Andrea. And the most amazing part is that I barely even knew her. It was her writings, her strength and her attitude that have me in this bittersweet way. This blog might be turning.

In memory of Andrea

I knew her a long time ago, and not very well. But I've been reading her blog on and off for awhile now, and her passing has me saddened in a very quiet and alone way. It's amazing to me how much her last words have changed the way I'm thinking -- and about everything. I feel peace in the air right now. Everything feels so dark and quiet and unfamiliar to me, but I feel a sense of peace for her.

I am not even going to read any of the trivial things I wrote about on the page that's showing because my obsession with small things is disgusting to me. God is so great, so amazing and so strong. I feel that Andrea did more for a deep understanding of life than anything else in a very, very long time. She is a hero to me for her incredible strength and power and is in a league with only three others.

I really don't know how it works when you die, but I have a sense that, even though she's not seeing or hearing exactly what people are saying, that she knows or senses the things she has done. So going with this, I want to make it known to the world that Andrea Collins Smith was an amazing person with an ability to do more during her final days than many people do in their entire lives.

Thank you God.

Background music is on every

every blog I write. I'm going to start to include the song, if I can. If you want to hear what I'm writing to, just the play button on the gray bar. I think the music always affects my post.

So much has happened. There are the "actual events" ...and then there are the things I think about. The things that you can't see happening, but this is the actual event for me.

So, I guess I'll start with Knoebels. We went there for a week on our first family vacation. And I had all these G rated TV show dreams of my family running around so perfect and so loving. I felt like I would be lavishing attention on Emmett -- playing Little Legos, playing Memory. Listening to his dreams and thoughts with undivided attention. I thought I would hold Ethan the whole time. Kissing him and making him laugh. But these things didn't happen like I wanted them to. Instead, we went to a far away cabin in the middle of nowhere and I couldn't stand being away from the Internet and my friends. The first day was good...all of us in our matching green shirts. But after that, I got distracted. I got distracted by my excitement for the weekend. I got distracted by text messages. I got distracted by my fear of heights. I got distracted by the fact I was distracted. I was half present, sort of like a zombie. I was physically there, but mentally very far away. And it continued for the rest of the week...this inability to concentrate on what I wanted to do.
So then, on Wednesday, my parents came up and they hung out there until Friday. And again, i was barely there. I was going thing to thing, text messaging caustically with a friendship that's defined by these meaningless altercations. And suddenly it was Friday and my children were leaving and I cried and cried and am crying now, because all that I wanted this vacation to be, it wasn't. And all the attention I wanted to give to my children, I didn't. And suddenly, they were leaving.

Now I can't say that anyone but Mike and I were fully aware of it. Mike is amazing in the way that somehow he understands this side of me, and "fills in" when I'm not there mentally. He helps me cover. But he was very aware of it, and kept trying to get me out of it. I was escaping and I don't know why. And there WERE memories. There were moments and times of richness, but overarching that was my absence.

Then Friday, my friends came up, and I was nervous. I was nervous because of combining two groups that I feel are so different. I was so extremely worried about one group offending the other or being too crude for my other group. These groups represent two very real sides of myself -- the first, gentle, intellectual, sensitive, silly and intentional. The second, reckless, rebellious, pushing boundaries, insulting and fun in a reckless way. By the time Saturday rolled around, I had a serious amount of gray hair (and this is by no means a joke). But, it all worked. I don't give my "home" group enough credit in an ability to handle recklessness. And I don't give my other group enough credit in reflecting based on situations and having the ability to enjoy something besides borderline behavior. Everyone melded beautifully...everyone liked everyone.

My favorite memories include going randomly to a slightly cold pool with Phil, Psydde, Mike, Colin, Jessica and Chris -- the waterslide competitions and Chris "dissing the man" without paying for a pass, and going down the slide fully clothed. And the late night "horror movie" we made right before a 1am smorgasborg of food. And did I get drunk? no. I didn't need to. The shocking "Sloosh" with Psydde, Chris and Phil, and how we "thought" the ride was over, but got soaked when we were walking off the ride, backs to the floon on the splash bridge, and shocked (literally) when we were hit with a huge wave. Laser tag...Chris' victorious win and my second place status. The balloons Seph decorated the cabin with. The impromptu crossword puzzling started by Jessica and Colin that included Psydde. And of course, the Tilt-a-Whirl.

So there it was...Sunday morning. Over. And all my excitement about my children and the quality vacation were wrong...I failed. And all my apprehension about combining groups that I was sure would cause conflict were wrong. So I got nothing right. And I was sad it was over, but so guilted by having fun without my children...and knowing Ethan was sick, I couldn't wait to get home and stop having fun.

The ride home was difficult for Mike. I went through my failings realizing that I cannot stand boundaries of any kind -- including that of my role as a wife and mother and I'm destined to continue failing. That even if the walls are harmless and meaningless, as soon as they're up, I'm devising ways to knock them down. Anything I "have" to do, I don't want to do. And I hate myself for these things. I just want to be normal and I feel at times angry at God for creating a person like me and expecting me to fit into these normal social roles. I feel like picking up and running away from everything 25% of the time and grabbing one friend and going somewhere very far away without a trace. But I would die without my children and would probably be a drug addict without my husband. As much as I rebel against boundaries, these are the things that keep me in check. But somehow, Mike got me out of it. Listening patiently and asking gentle questions. He made it all stop.

Sorry for going off like this. Blog-wise, it's probably more interesting to read about events. Just events, without all the drama in my head. The problem is, in this situtation (for me) the event was what was in my head.

TODAY is a last minute BBQ and pool party here
WEDNESDAY is Ani DiFranco
and the story continues.

And the other thing that's been really affecting me is this: http://www.punkrockmommy.org
I've been following her blog for awhile. I knew her way, way back, but have no relationship with her now. She's got less than 3 weeks to live.