Well....okay...

The new place is up, but Sadie and Phin are still working on getting me properly dressed.

Not a natural beauty, please understand it takes longer for some of us to get presentable for company, than others.

Because I have been testing out my blogroll from there, those of you who keep an eye on your sitemeter have already found me.

So, here's the new URL: http://justdotchristina.mu.nu/

See you over there!!

Choices

To live this life we must each make choices.

These decisions can be made actively or passively, verbally or tacitly, but whether we engage in action or inaction, decisions are ultimately made.

This week someone close to my little family attempted suicide.

She was unsuccessful in her bid, but her actions have a not so insignificant impact on my daughters.

Suicide is a choice.

If someone is intent on ending his or her own life, he or she will eventually do so.

There is nothing I or anyone else can say or do to prevent that from happening.

I know there are twenty-four hour suicide watches. I know there are medications and therapy for depression. However, despite the best of intentions, if someone has no desire to live and seeks the darkness of eternity, that person will finally succeed.

Each of us is fundamentally responsible for himself or herself.

No manner of support, intervention, mollycoddling or anything else will make a damn bit of difference. The person in crisis has to discover, then commit to the value of his or her life.

I know and understand the impairment of depression and how it clouds reason and judgment. I am not unsympathetic or uncompassionate regarding the severity of the condition and its impact on an individual.

While willing to render support, love, and aide to someone in need, I do not believe I or anyone else is responsible for another's suicide.

I choose to use the life events which surround us as teaching tools for my children. I shield them as much as I can from a lot of the harshness of reality, but the older they become, the less I actively engage in withholding certain information from them.

I want my children to be children and enjoy the pleasures of an essentially carefree existence where they are not forced to face the often harsh and grim world in which we live; however, they also need to know and understand that reality is not sugarplum fairies, gumdrop trees or rivers of chocolate.

Wee One is far too young to know or understand anything about suicide or what leads a person down that path.

Sweet One is mature for her almost thirteen years. She had been privy to the bits and pieces of the phone calls and discussions regarding the attempt and she exercised restraint in not making inquiry; however, I knew she knew something was going on.

I am also painfully aware that the age-group with the highest rate of suicide is teenagers.

Thus, it was with great thought and consideration I broached the subject with her.

Her first question: Is suicide hereditary?

Her second question: What could be so bad that someone would want to die?

While we briefly touched on the specifics of this one individual's situation, I shifted the focus from there to suicide in general and teenage suicide specifically. I felt I needed to give her the tools to cope with the pain and adversity she might one day face.

I did my homework and gave her the statistics. She was shocked, of course.

Why teenagers?

We covered the usual suspects: the difficulty in dealing with leaving the world of childhood behind and slowing morphing into adulthood; the struggle to find one's place or niche in the fishbowl world of school and other groups; the not so subtle effects of hormones; experimentation with drugs and alcohol; the heartbreak of rejection and first love. We covered a wide variety of topics.

Fortunately, she is accustomed to my matter-of-fact and no-nonsense approach to relaying information, as well as my often questionable humor.

She knows my goal is not to be her absolute bestest friend in the whole wide world, but to be the best mother I can possibly be.

I've outlined more than once for her what my role as mother entails: to provide for her, protect her, teach her, and help mold and guide her into being the very best human she can be.

I try to do all those things with unconditional love, the absolute best and most accurate facts I can provide, and open arms to welcome her home whether she has screwed up or not. Then, there is the never-ending supply of freshly baked cookies and cakes to cheer her up when her day is something less than she wanted it to be.

With all we discussed, she kept coming back to one element running through all the possible causes for one to consider suicide: pain.

She could not fathom a pain so intense and powerful that it would make someone want to die and actively seek death.

I made a choice at that point to share something with my daughter I had hoped I would never have to because I did not want her to ever think less of me. I shared something with her because I felt and believed one day the lesson I learned might actually help her when she is cold, alone, and consumed by some unknown pain of her own, even though I pray for her, I pray she never has to experience any of that first hand.

I told her of a young woman who was newly married and at twenty-four was practicing law with one of the most influential law firms in the country. I described an accomplished young woman who was haunted with grave insecurities of her ability to meet the expectations of everyone around, as well as the too high expectations of her own. The young woman was plagued by guilt and self-doubt which filled her heart with a seemingly ceaseless pain that only appeared to grow with each passing day.

Without going into specific details, I told her the young woman woke up one day and when her husband asked if she was going to work, she replied: "I would rather put a gun to my head than get up and go to work."

Fortunately for the young woman, the husband took her seriously and immediately found someone in whom she trusted to share her load. Through many, many tears the young woman discovered things were not as bleak or dire as she had led herself to believe. With help, she was able to put things into better perspective and she learned that trusting her pain with others made it easier for her to not only carry the burden, but dispose of it.

A week after she uttered the fateful words: "I would rather put a gun to my head ..." the woman learned she was expecting her first child.

The child was Sweet One.

Two Things

First, I liked this quote:

When I am abroad, I always make it a rule never to criticize or attack the government of my own country. I make up for lost time when I come home. ~ Sir Winston Churchill

Second, the new site should be up and running before much longer. I appreciate your patience.

In the meantime, I'm having great fun over here.

Blogger Schizophrenia

Okay, those who know me, know I can be a bit flighty on occasion, despite my very dark and long hair.

What can I say?

I guess I'm easily bored.

That's not really true, but it is somewhat difficult to explain what has prompted all this blog-hopping.

One of the great things about blogging is that each of us can be whoever we please, whenever we please, wherever on the net we please.

I started off feisty and rather gung-ho, but ended up grinding myself down as a result. Feisty is certainly a facet to my personality, but it makes up less than ten percent.

Alex Sinclair is a pseudonym I have had and used since high school. There have been volumes of poetry and prose that no one will probably ever read written under the nom de plume of Alex Sinclair; however, Alex is yet another facet of me.

Feisty Chrissy has taken up residence with my lovely sistah Sadie, a home for which I am most grateful. With her blessing, I shall continue popping in and up over there again and again, as the mood, inspiration, and whimsy strike. With my girl covering my backside, I hope to gain the confidence to unleash the political and constitutional animal over there.

Feisty Repartee shall remain as it is with archives intact; however, I will not be returning there.

This Coop has been a great place to hang out as I worked through some things, mostly personal.

Everything in this life is a journey. Each step we take, each move we make takes us down one path or another.

There's one last move in me. Pixy Misa have given me an opportunity to return to munuviana and is setting up my new URL.

This time there will just be me.

The new place will be called Just *dot* Christina because that's all I am. Just me.

When it's up and running, I'll give a shout out and I sincerely hope you will follow me to one more place.

In the meantime, I'll be here.

Well CRAP!

I didn't intend to change the blog template and lose my friggin' links, but it looks like that is what I have done.

Dammit.

Shit.

Crap.

I just thought I was having a pretty good day.

My mistake.

UPDATE:

Bloody F*cking Hell.

I managed to lose Haloscan, too!

UPDATE II:

Have I mentioned, I hate this farookin' template?!

Gremlins

Forgive me, friends, but my age must surely be showing. While I have never had much of a rear, it has certainly been dragging lately.

Last night I got home late from the office and was so wiped out, I was the first one to bed. Seriously, I abandoned Wee One to Sweet One's watchful eyes and hit the sack early.

This morning was the first day in the last ten I did not awake with some kind of a headache. Woohooo!

When Wee One popped out of bed this morning she greeted me with a lazy smile and brown colored stains all down the front of her pink princess nightgown.

Shocked, I inquired what was all that and pointed down the front of her frock.

"Oh, that," she responded, "that's chocolate ice cream from last night. I spilled some."

There was no point in asking whose idea the ice cream was or who provided it to her.

Apparently, there was an ice cream party after I went to bed.

Gremlins, I'm sure.

Where there's one...

...there are bound to be others.

I don't care if it's a baby rattler, it's still a rattler.

Yes, it's dead.

Yes, that's my patio.

ish!

Birthdays Abound!

Tell me people don't get frisky in the cold month of January.

Tomorrow, October 12th is best friend Susan's birthday. She is the lovely and stalwart cohort who accompanies me to blogmeets and lets me lean on her with grace and dignity when the world gets to be too hard for me to stand alone.

Friday, October 14th is Eric, the Straight White Intrepid and Conqueror of the Deck's day in the sun. Cheers, man!

Saturday, October 15th marks the anniversary of the Divine Miss Silk's Debut! And, no, the world has never been quite the same.

Sunday, October 16th is the 19th birthday of our beloved and surprisingly (for such a teenager)well-developed (and I can't believe your Mom let you get tattoos and wear your hair like that) Zonker. It's time, man, it's time. Manhood awaits. This is your year!

Monday, October 19th my dear Mother has a birthday; however, because my father could not remember her actual birthday when he filled out her naturalization papers (he wrote down July 20, the birthday of his first wife!) and her culture celebrates Chinese New Year as a birthday for all, she actually has three birthdays a year. I'm telling ya, she looks pretty damn good for a gal going on 186.

Marking another trip around the sun on Monday, October 24th is the delightfully sincere and introspective Mr. Random Fate. Jack was going to celebrate the milestone of his 40th birthday last year in Scotland, but things did not work out that way. Perhaps, this year, he'll enjoy a Scotch in the Highlands and reflect on all that is good in his world. I hope so.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, my friends.

I love each of you!

I am also blessed to know you.

Thank you for your friendship.

UPDATE: Yet another man with whom I am enamored. Darlin' Denny has a birthday on Tuesday, October 25th! He intends to spend his special day sampling wines from around the world!! Sekreet note to Denny: The Texas Hill Country is known for it's wines, too. Hint, hint.

LOLLYGAGGIN' UPDATE: The dynamic and anything but subdued Pammy has a birthday on Friday, October, 21st!

Good Lord, people! How many October babies of you are there out there?!

WIZARDLY UPDATE: Or would that be Warlock?! The wonderfully wacky and loveable Wizard informs me he will be 41 on October 31st!!

PARKWAY UPDATE: Holy Cannoli is right, Batman!! The beloved Godfaddah has a birthday on Sunday, October 16th, too! Do you suppose he and Zonker were separated at birth? They are both from New Jersey!

Oh, NO!!

Fire destroys 'Wallace and Gromit' warehouse.

A spokesman for Aardman said the building housed props and sets from the company's history, including its first three 'Wallace and Gromit' films.

As mentioned over the weekend, we watched the new movie: Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.

It was good, but I have to admit the ten minute short preceeding the feature film: 'A Christmas Caper' was just excellent. The short starred the penguins from Madgascar.

Seriously, it was hysterically funny.

"Shiitake mushrooms!"

Indeed!

In the mood...

Decadent, indulgent, and hedonistic aptly describe my present mood.

What to do?

What is a girl to do?

As a woman, I have the same wants, needs, and desires as any other. There are times when my body screams for satisfaction.

I have visions in my head of sharing hot sweet pleasure with another.

Oh, yes.

What I have in mind involves partaking in something very special, indeed.

Alas, while unilaterally satisfying on occasion, some things are just infinitely better when experienced together. Thus, I hope to corrupt another with a hidden desire and one of my secret passions.

Dare I bare all and reveal just one of the lovely little things which makes my heart definitely beat with the urgency of need and, moreover, desire?

A little encouragement may be necessary because even I am a little shy about some things.

What's that you say?

Please?

Please what, dahling?

Oh, yes, I love it when you ask nicely.

Okay, here goes, I just returned from the grocery store with Heath Toffee Bits and semi-sweet chocolate chips. I have the best cookies you have ever, ever slipped into your mouth baking in the oven. In a few more minutes, the soft gooey pleasure will be mine; however, I am so willing to share.

This guilty pleasure is definitely better when paired with cold milk.

So, I have the cookies, who has the milk?

Chocolate Chip/Toffee Cookies

1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon Amaretto
2-1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
12 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup Heath Toffee Bits

Cream together butter, sugar and Amaretto until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs. Sift together flour, soda, and salt. Gradually add to creamed mixture. Mix well. Fold in chocolate chips and toffee bits.

Drop by teaspoon onto greased cookie sheet.

Bake at 375 degrees F. for 10 minutes or until light brown. Makes a soft cookie.

Poor Baby!

Last night it was soap, tonight...

Wee One decided to take her toothbrush and toothpaste into my bathroom tonight. She prepared for bed, watched television with me for a little while, then decided to have some juice. I told her to brush her teeth again.

She came back a few minutes ago sputtering and spitting.

I left the Icy Hot cream on the counter and she had mistaken it for toothpaste.

The Black Sheep

There is no doubt my mother and my sister love me. I know that and do not doubt it; however, they have always shared a special bond and relate to one another on levels that are simply alien to me.

When I was younger I was jealous of their relationship, but years ago I learned to accept they are more like one another than I am like either of them. Age and maturity has taught me that I should be grateful they are able to have one another because they can each be there for the other and instinctively know what the other needs and how to provide it.

My role in what remains of this family unit is to take care of business. Despite the very troubled and dysfunctional relationship I had with my father, I inherited certain traits from him.

I learned at an early age that I have a very clear vision of what needs to be done in most situations and how to execute tasks efficiently. In crisis that makes me the go-to person, but the other ninety-nine percent of the time when things are rocking along copacetically, I just piss people off with my no-nonsense style of assertiveness and few have much use for me.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I awoke very early this morning with a screaming migraine and after I was finally able to keep the meds down, I returned to bed to sleep off the pain.

When I next emerged from my bedroom, my sister had arrived from Houston and Mom decided she would go with Beth and return next week. I think my sister was here for three-quarters of an hour before we waved them off.

While the last to know, it was not a surprise.

Sweet One has a birthday party to attend this evening and Wee One has informed me if I get cleaned up I can take her to the movies tonight. The only rated G show at our local multiplex is Wallace & Gromit. I showed her the trailer and with delight twinkling in her eyes, she informed me it was, indeed, acceptable. God love that child.

The husband, as he has stated, is on the road again.

There it is, just me and my Wee One. And, yes, I'm counting my blessings.

Just Shoot Me

Awoke around 2:30 this morning with a screaming headache. Instead of getting up right then and taking some Imitrex for it, I convinced myself I could just sleep it off.

Right. A migraine wakes me up and I actually think I can sleep it off. Like that has ever happened.

I'm damned for the day.

Back to bed.

Enjoy your weekend.

Soap and a Switch

Wee One as she pounded on the bathroom door:

"Open the damn door!"

I'll leave to your imagination just how well that went over.

Ummmmm...

It's wonderfully chilly, wet, and rainy out today, a stark contrast to the unremitting sun and heat of the last six months.

I spent a few minutes this morning releasing a few extra rocks back to the "wilds" of the building's florascapes.

My good deed done, now, I am savoring a deliciously hot cup of Earl Grey in lieu of my standard Diet Coke.

I am feeling rather refined, but have no fear, I am quite sure it will be fleeting.