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<channel>
	<title>Thoughts on Various Things</title>
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	<description>Sometimes Funny, Sometimes Serious</description>
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		<title>Chronic Depression When It Comes To Friendships</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2010/08/chronic-depression-when-it-comes-to-friendships/</link>
		<comments>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2010/08/chronic-depression-when-it-comes-to-friendships/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 07 Aug 2010 01:29:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[depressed]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friendship]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=92</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I'm just sitting here at my desk and some bad thoughts come into my mind.  Ones that bring up memories of childhood friendships that have come and gone. ]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I&#8217;m just sitting here at my desk and some bad thoughts come into my mind.  Ones that bring up memories of childhood friendships that have come and gone.  When I lived in Kinston, I had my two cousins to play with on the weekends.  I had a couple of friends at school to play with during the week, so it was all good.<br />
  Things changed drastically when I moved to Goldsboro. We finally moved everything here on Jan. 31, 1984, I was 9 yrs old and it was my first day at a new school, too.  I went to the city schools here and experienced the so called <em>&#8216;reverse discrimination&#8217;</em> by the blacks; who were around 95% of the school student body.  I only knew one or two black girls at the schools but they weren&#8217;t really what you called friends, we were nice to each other, but I&#8217;d call them acquaintances instead of friends.  (Believe me folks, my teeth are on edge when I type this. I really hate bad-mouthing the blacks but in this case; it&#8217;s the truth).  I did have one friend (white) named Caroline, she was alright but with in a few years she showed her true colors to me.  She loved to lie to her parents, and steal from people.  Including me.  Felt angry, sad for being betrayed by someone I liked. So much for that friendship! <span id="more-92"></span><br />
   I was also friends with a Dawn M.  in fourth grade, we were like sisters.  She then moved away. Felt like crap for a long while. I didn&#8217;t see her until the 7th grade.  That summer, around 1987, I moved outside Goldsboro city limits.  I could go to a county school (even amount of black and whites!  Made things A LOT easier! No more discrimination!)  I met back up with Dawn, and we continued our friendship up until high school. Can&#8217;t forget my two Donnas, either!  Gosh! The years at Spring Creek were the best in my life! My friends there were the best in the world! After Spring Creek, we had to go to different high schools. We drifted apart, but I sorta expected that. Except for Dawn, who went to Eastern Wayne with me, we drifted apart there.  Which I&#8217;m OK with that.  We can&#8217;t be kids forever.  Eventually, we have to grow up and make our own path.<br />
   We still talk, but we will never be as close as those years at Spring Creek.  They were awesome!  I met a girl named Kim at Eastern Wayne HS.  We became good friends, too.  She was a loony, whom I felt comfortable being loony around, too.  I enjoyed acting like a silly bunny, esp. around her.  We were friends until she moved away around 2001. I miss her even now.<br />
   Around 2005 I met the Frost family and the Walters, and Anna and David.  I felt a good connection with these families.  We had our little &#8216;get-togethers&#8217; at one another&#8217;s homes.  It went on for some time, until recently.  Now all of a sudden it seems like everyone is too busy to hang out with each other. Or they just don&#8217;t like me.  Either that or we&#8217;ve just drifted apart.  Still it doesn&#8217;t feel good being alone for so long.  If anyone of you are reading this, just so you know: I would LOVE to be around you more often.  I would like to plan dinner with you guys, I just beg you: let me know at least 24 hrs in ADVANCE!<br />
  I&#8217;m also thinking my lupus plays a big role.  Well, I&#8217;m sorry I have it!  I was born with it!  I really don&#8217;t like advertising the fact that I am not all that healthy.  I try to keep my pain to myself.  Why?  <strong>Because no one likes a whiner.  Not even me</strong>.  I&#8217;ve said it once and I&#8217;ll say it many more times:  I CANNOT predict when I&#8217;m going to have a flare-up!  Lupus makes me sore, and very, VERY tired!   That&#8217;s why it&#8217;s very important to tell me your plans ahead of time!  If you don&#8217;t: I&#8217;ll have a flare-up because of the &#8216;bad&#8217; stress that comes with last minuet decisions, and I&#8217;ll be in even more pain for the next day, or two or maybe even a week. There are a couple of people who&#8217;ll remain un-named who really need to let that sink in!  That being said, lupus puts a big hamper on socializing, but it DOES NOT keep me prisoner!!!<br />
  I feel so alone.  I love being around people, most of the time.  Better yet, let me put it another way.  I love to be around people 50% of the time and with myself the other 50%.  I like having that kind of balance.  Lately, it&#8217;s been off balance and it hurts.  I just have to remind myself:  <strong>There&#8217;s always hope for a better tomorrow.</strong></p>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Holiday Labeling</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2010/01/holiday-labeling/</link>
		<comments>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2010/01/holiday-labeling/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 22 Jan 2010 19:22:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ramlbings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[converts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[festival]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[holiday]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[labeling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[labels]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pagan]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[steal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stealing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stole]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=78</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Yesterday I read a friends blog about the holidays.  Well, part of it was about christmas.  Quote:  &#8220;[have a] wonderful CHRISTMAS.  Not holidays.  I respect the other religions of this world, but dammit, look at the word.  The first six letters of that word are what it&#8217;s all about. [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Yesterday I read a friends blog about the holidays.  Well, part of it was about christmas.  Quote:  &#8220;[have a] wonderful CHRISTMAS.  Not holidays.  I respect the other religions of this world, but dammit, look at the word.  The first six letters of that word are what it&#8217;s all about.  Wake up!!!&#8221;<br />
You say you respect other religions of the world.  But, you don&#8217;t really mean it.  Here&#8217;s a wake up call for <em>YOU</em>, my friend!  Christmas is a <strong>PAGAN</strong> holiday.  It comes from Saturnalia, an Ancient Roman festival that was held in honor of the god Saturn.  Chrisitanity decided to get more converts, therefore more moola in their coffers, if they (xtians) took the <em>already available holidays and adopt them as their own</em>, with a more christian twist.<br />
Christians STOLE!  (Umm, isn&#8217;t that against your religion or something?)<br />
  Let me propose a situation:  If I put a large stick-on label with the words &#8220;<strong>GRAND PIANO</strong>&#8221; on a paper bag full of sugar; would it suddenly make the contents of that bag a grand piano?  No, it wouldn&#8217;t!  It would still be sugar! Just because you put a label on a thing doesn&#8217;t make that particular thing change. <strong>Christmas</strong> is a <strong>LABEL</strong> that is put on the bag of <strong>SATURNALIA</strong>!<br />
It may <em>sound</em> like: christmas, but it is still Saturnalia! This is exactly what the christians did to the other religions at the time.  Shame on them! They were too lazy to make their own festivals. A pig is still a pig, even if it has lipstick on it.<br />
<em>Christmas is a Pagan holiday</em>. <strong>Please give credit where credit is due.</strong> Merry YULE!  </p>
<p>Priestess Smiling Coyote out!</p>
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		<item>
		<title>How to Live with Others When You Have Lupus, Fibromyalgia, etc.</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/11/how-to-live-with-others-when-you-have-lupus-fibromyalgia-etc/</link>
		<comments>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/11/how-to-live-with-others-when-you-have-lupus-fibromyalgia-etc/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 29 Nov 2009 23:47:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[chronically ill]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[discomfort]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fibromyalgia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[helpful]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[information]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[living]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lupus]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pain]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[suffering]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=71</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One of the greatest challenges of chronic pain is finding ways to live with others. Sometimes it seems more comforting to stay home alone, where we can relax, tend to our aches, set our own pace, and control our total environment. This would free us from having to explain, apologize, look odd, or feel guilty about the things we have difficulty contending with. We would no longer impose our tortured bodies on anybody else.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I stole this from Quackwatch.com  it&#8217;s a long, but informative read!</p>
<p>By: <strong>Deborah A. Barrett</strong><br />
One of the greatest challenges of chronic pain is finding ways to live with others. Sometimes it seems more comforting to stay home alone, where we can relax, tend to our aches, set our own pace, and control our total environment. This would free us from having to explain, apologize, look odd, or feel guilty about the things we have difficulty contending with. We would no longer impose our tortured bodies on anybody else.<br />
This fantasy, however, has some major flaws! What does it mean to have a life? Usually, living involves a variety of work, social experiences, and travel that remove us from the cozy nest we try to construct and put us in contact with the outside world. What would it really mean to give this up? Without chronic illness, few of us would consider a hermit&#8217;s life even marginally appealing. Now, we are pressed to find ways to maintain relationships &#8212; precious relationships &#8212; without excessive discomfort.<br />
From a handshake with a new colleague to a long trip to visit family, we constantly struggle to reduce physical stress without burdening others or calling undue attention to our illness. These issues are relevant for short interactions with acquaintances as well as daily dealings with those most intimate to us. Finding ways to express our special needs requires careful situation-specific negotiations.<span id="more-71"></span><br />
Most people want to be taken care of when they feel awful. People with chronic problems, however, constantly appear needy. This can be taxing to all parties involved. This article grapples with how to tread the line between acting the part of a martyr and the part of a witch &#8212; therein lies the challenge.<br />
<strong>Just Say No</strong><br />
The first rule of thumb: Eliminate all activities you do not value and that do not require your participation. Even though we may be &#8220;sick all the time,&#8221; there is nothing wrong with declining invitations for health reasons. A polite, &#8220;thanks for the invitation, but I am not feeling up to it&#8221; should suffice. People cancel for many reasons. Excessive pain and fatigue are reason enough! We experience substantial pain; why add to it by enduring irritating people or activities? Reduce contact with individuals who drain you rather than add pleasure to your life. Think of yourself as an Brahmin: Reserve your precious energy for only the most important tasks. Prioritize. When possible, eliminate the &#8220;I should&#8230;&#8221; activities for the &#8220;I want to&#8230;&#8221; variety. It is often well worth paying someone to carry out strenuous chores, such as housecleaning and grocery shopping, to free ourselves for more fulfilling activities.<br />
<strong>Limit Your Involvement</strong><br />
When you can&#8217;t &#8220;just say no,&#8221; limit the time you spend on burdensome tasks. If you must attend a social or work-related engagement, plan to arrive late and leave early. It is likely you will have a better time, and in most cases, people will not notice.<br />
<strong>Come Prepared</strong><br />
For activities we choose to engage in, there are ways to make them less stressful and more enjoyable. Always be a good scout. Fill your car or bag with creature comforts. Extra medication, heat packs, pillows, silk long johns, earplugs and sunglasses can be real life savers. Once you determine for yourself what works, keep a checklist handy when you are preparing to go out. Think about the conditions of the place you are going: What is the temperature? Are the chairs comfortable? How is the lighting? Call ahead to inquire about the environment and whether any special arrangements can be made.<br />
<strong>Communicate Clearly</strong><br />
Why is this one so hard? We need to express our needs to others in ways that are simple, direct and polite. Often people who care about us want to help but do not know what to do. However, asking for help is not a neutral act. By asking, we acknowledge weakness and dependence. Therefore physical discomfort is not the only factor in a decision to seek help or special treatment. As I see it, we suffer not only from physical discomfort. We also mourn for the things we can no longer do, and we fear standing out, calling attention to ourselves because we cannot keep up with others.<br />
For these reasons, we need to weigh the importance of seeking assistance. In some circumstances, &#8220;passing for normal&#8221; might be worth a certain amount of suffering. This depends on such things as our plans for the rest of the day, our closeness to the people we are with, their disposition and familiarity with our condition, and our estimate of the repercussions.<br />
We may prefer the five minutes of pain brought on from shaking hands with one person, for example, to having to explain personal limitations to a stranger. These are the kind of choices only we are in the position to make. While a simple, &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, I cannot shake hands today&#8230;it&#8217;s very nice to meet you,&#8221; might work quite well, we may not feel up to it. Long explanations are never needed. A quick explanation such as, &#8220;I hurt my hand,&#8221; accompanied with a warm smile is unlikely to set interactions off kilter.<br />
Asking for special assistance when something requires only minor alterations from others but greatly affects our well-being is the least difficult. Little requests such as opening jars or carrying small packages across the street can even help others feel good about themselves and their contribution to our comfort.<br />
Difficulties may arise, however, when we desire substantial changes by others, when our wishes are at odds with those of others, or when we appear too aggressive. Asking for a sturdier chair is not difficult, but asking everyone to move tables may be more than is reasonable to ask. We cannot expect a party of twenty to change plans on account of our situation. Likely, there are others in the group with particular needs or preferences. In these situations, it is most important to come as prepared as possible with layers of clothes, earplugs, or whatever increases our comfort. We can excuse ourselves as often as needed to meditate, stretch, run hot water over our hands &#8212; whatever helps.<br />
Our requests should take into account our relationship with the people, how familiar they are with our condition, and the length of time the interaction will take. On one extreme, we may decide to play the martyr &#8212; to keep quiet and endure great pains so as not to create a scene or disrupt others. However, most people would prefer to make some sacrifices if it means saving you from several days of down time. Put yourself in their place: how would you feel if you could have prevented your friend from having to spend two days in bed recovering? You would feel terrible, especially if something as simple as meeting inside rather than outside could have prevented it.<br />
Although our pain may be quite intense, it is virtually invisible to those around us. No red flag begins to waive when our condition suddenly deteriorates. This makes communication paramount. Because of the intensity of our pain, we may (rightly) feel entitled to preferential treatment. But remember, others do not see our suffering: Few of us consistently use wheelchairs or other assistive devices that elicit sympathetic reactions. The most direct route is a simple explanation that we have a chronic pain condition which is greatly affected by certain factors, followed by a polite request. If your request is granted, make sure to express your appreciation.<br />
The way we ask makes a difference. In the United States, helping others is considered an act of charity, not something expected of us. If we demand special accommodations in a bossy manner (the witch), people will be less enthusiastic about helping. But if we focus instead on how much we appreciate their assistance, others will likely oblige.<br />
<strong>Preferences Versus Needs</strong><br />
Many people have strong preferences. With us, however, our &#8220;preferences&#8221; are often &#8220;needs&#8221; that, if not met, they cost us dearly. The onset of out-of-control pain or fatigue is frightening and potentially embarrassing, enough to make us wish we stayed home.<br />
Because many aspects of daily interactions create additional difficulties for us, it is completely reasonable to try to influence the environment to suit us better. When it comes to pain, we are no longer contending only with &#8220;preferences.&#8221; We would probably have shared others&#8217; preferences (for nice long walks, convertibles, etc.) had our physical condition not turned otherwise joyful events into hardships.<br />
But while our condition may be severe, everyone has preferences and people vary in their flexibility. It is unrealistic to assume we alone experience ailments. When asking for help, show respect for others and inquire about how the change may affect them. Many people, for example, suffer from back trouble. On an airplane, you might inquire of a sturdy-looking young man: &#8220;Because I suffer from a muscle condition, I cannot lift my bag into the compartment, could you help me?&#8221; In most cases, strangers are happy to lend a hand (and our bags are surprisingly light).<br />
The more complicated situation involves those with whom we are closest. For those most intimate, it&#8217;s extremely important to understand what makes us feel better or worse. They certainly don&#8217;t want us to suffer more! However, these are the people most affected by our suffering. When asking of them, do not dwell on your needs and always express gratitude when someone arranges something for you without your asking.<br />
No doubt close friends will want to help you prevent additional pain. At the same time, even the most sympathetic people may begin to resent numerous constraints on their behavior. It is very important to determine their boundaries. Some people have endless tolerance and patience; while others are easily frustrated by the pertinacity of our condition.<br />
Although we may have to contend with continual pain, it is not fair to use it as a trump card so that our preferences automatically come first. Although the kindness of friends may save us days of pain, we should not make others feel responsible or guilty about our suffering.<br />
Relationships require balance: they are not a one-way street. Remember to keep abreast of the needs of those close to you and try your best to accommodate them. Framing your requests as special favors, rather than expectations, may allay any negative feelings.<br />
<strong>Identifying Our Needs</strong><br />
On a practical level, know what you need &#8212; the type of chair, lighting, temperature, rest breaks, and noise level &#8212; to be most comfortable. This makes it easier both for yourself and for those who want to lend a hand. Although the variety of things that affect us may become intuitive to us, they likely seem an odd assortment of factors to others. Help them by being very clear about what is most difficult and helpful to you. Be simple: &#8220;I have a lot of trouble with _________, it would be super if you could ___________. Will this be a problem?&#8221;<br />
<strong>Overidentification (Too Much Empathy)</strong><br />
Sometimes our loved ones have the most difficulty confronting our disabilities. Our suffering is hardest on those who care most. For them, our difficulties become theirs, sometimes resulting in psychosomatic, empathic reactions. While we may want to share all of our experiences with them, think about the effect this may have. How would you feel if your partner or child were in terrible pain all the time? Just as we crave a break from our symptoms, our family and friends need relief from thinking about them. This does not mean we should be martyrs; your goal should be to create a balance between sharing our trouble and focusing on other things. Be sure to introduce topics unrelated to your medical state. Distraction can be extremely helpful. How much fun can it be to spend time with someone always focused exclusively on their illness? Stockpile interesting stories to share that will take everyone&#8217;s mind off your day-to-day problems and focus on more interesting subjects. On the other hand, it is important to keep your family and friends generally informed about your well-being so that they can know what to expect. It may be helpful to devise a system to signify pivotal points where assistance means a lot. Some people feel helpless if they are not actively assisting you: for them, find discrete tasks they are comfortable with. Others, however, feel overburdened by simple requests. People vary in their tolerance for suffering, both for their own and for that of other people.<br />
Just because we may suffer does not mean our partners or family should also. We can reduce their discomfort by trying to prevent situations where our pain gets out of control. Taking good care of ourselves also helps them. Try to focus on the gratifying events of each day. Helping a partner stay in good spirits contributes to a more positive state of mind for us as well.<br />
<strong>Denial</strong><br />
Some people close to us may be reluctant to offer help because they may not want to accept we have a &#8220;real problem.&#8221; Some may be skeptical because there are no &#8220;objective&#8221; indicators of our illness; the medical community is still somewhat disbelieving. For these people, education is the key. Literature now abounds about many aspects of lupus, from symptoms, to coping strategies, to assistance for families and loved ones. Because of the wide variety of our symptoms and needs, one approach is to admit that our condition is rather bizarre. In making a request, you may say, for example, &#8220;I know this seems odd, but the noise from your open car window actually creates tension in my muscles that causes terrible pain.&#8221;<br />
Those afraid to admit that we may be ill need reassurance that, although we have a medical problem, we will still be available for them. Children may be afraid to confront their parents&#8217; vulnerability. Feeding their denial, however, forces you to adopt a martyr role. Those who care about you can be reassured that you can control this benign illness with certain procedures with which they can help, if they so desire. This does not mean you will become dependent on them. To the contrary, the more others help with the little things, the more available you will be for them. Remember what the airlines always say before takeoff about putting on the air mask in the event of emergency? &#8220;First secure your own mask, then help those around you with theirs.&#8221;<br />
In sum, interactions with the outside world can be challenging when you are dealing with chronic pain and fatigue. To preserve energy for the things most important to you, eliminate all superfluous tasks and unpleasant social activity. For those activities we choose to do, always come prepared. When we desire assistance from others, ask politely and clearly, explaining that they are saving us a great deal of pain and we are very grateful. People like to feel appreciated. When this approach is unsuccessful, there are several options. We may decide to rule out future interactions of this sort when possible. We can calculate whether the extra pain is worth it. We are the toughest group around. But playing the martyr entails huge costs and can be done only so much. When it comes to those closest to us, clear communication is crucial. You should make sure others understand your needs. But, at the same time, you should respect their preferences too. Living with someone who is chronically ill is taxing. Make sure to give credit to those who stick by us. We have many thorns in our feet. It&#8217;s the greatest act of love to pull one out. By finding ways to communicate with our family, friends and colleagues, we can pull the thorns out together, one by one.</p>
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		<title>My First Ghost Sighting (yes, it&#8217;s a true story)</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/09/my-first-ghost-sighting-yes-its-a-true-story/</link>
		<comments>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/09/my-first-ghost-sighting-yes-its-a-true-story/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 28 Sep 2009 20:51:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[1970s]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ghost]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ghosts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goldsboro]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[night]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[razor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[suicide]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=50</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  My first encounter with a ghost was when I first moved to Goldsboro.  I remember it was late February or early March.  As, I was sleeping on the top part of my bunk bed one night, I felt cold.  Not a physical type of cold.  But, it was as [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>  My first encounter with a ghost was when I first moved to Goldsboro.  I remember it was late February or early March.  As, I was sleeping on the top part of my bunk bed one night, I felt cold.  Not a physical type of cold.  But, it was as if my soul was freezing.  Hard to put into words.<br />
  I looked down to the floor, trying to decide if I want to slide over the rail or climb down and get a blanket.  I could see the room in a light bluish light that emanated from the street light adjacent to the house.  I always kept the blinds mostly closed so in case of an &#8216;emergency&#8217; I could see.  Basically, it was my night light.<span id="more-50"></span><br />
  As I looked down, I saw a young girl wearing a striped shirt and bell-bottomed pants come in.  I couldn&#8217;t say a word because I was so surprised.  She walked in as though she owned the place.  She also had a long necked bottle with her and something else.  The girl took a long swig of the liquid, then calmly took out a straight razor, and preceded to saw at her wrists.  I looked up at the ceiling and told myself it was JUST A DREAM!  A few seconds later, I looked down again.  There she was in a fetal position. Dead.  Then a light mist came from nowhere and disappeared along with the girl.  I kept telling myself it was only a dream.<br />
  A few months later my brother and I were over at a neighbor&#8217;s house to play with their son.  They lived across the street from us.  The streetlight that was my night light was on their property.  The two boys were inside getting something to drink.  The dad and I were under the carport talking about anything that got into our heads. The dad was one funny guy.  Great sense of humor.  Loved to laugh and smile.<br />
  I decided to tell him about my dream; thinking he might get a kick out of it.  I told him what happened.  His face went very pale.  He asked, very sternly although not unkindly, “That wasn&#8217;t a dream, was it?”  I reluctantly told him it was the truth.  Then, to make sure, he asked which window was the one to my room.  I told him the middle one.  He nodded. (I guess I passed some sort of test)<br />
  He then told me that he knew the people who lived there and their daughter.  At the time he was a paramedic.  He remembered when they knocked on his door one morning begging him to come over. They said something terrible had happened.  He went over to the house and saw that their little girl committed suicide.  She bled to death.  She died wearing bell bottom jeans and a striped shirt, laying in a fetal position.  She got herself drunk before she cut herself.<br />
  Before we even moved into the house we heard that someone had died in it.  We even found some blood stains underneath the carpet in my room.  Before all this happened, Dexter and I would scrub those stains away and joke about how long it would take for them to come back.  It was only a joke to us.<br />
  After this sighting, however, it was no longer funny.<br />
  She was only 14.</strong></p>
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		<title>Silly Thoughts No. 1</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/09/silly-thoughts-no-1/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 25 Sep 2009 15:22:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ramlbings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[crazy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rambling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[think pad]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[thoughtful]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[thoughts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weird]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=47</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m one of those weirdos who keeps a &#8216;think pad&#8217; by her bed. I don&#8217;t know why it is, but, it seems that I get the most craziest, insightful, and inspirational ideas when I lay down to sleep. Last night, I was thinking about George Carlin and his book: Brain Droppings. In it, he wrote [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I&#8217;m one of those weirdos who keeps a &#8216;think pad&#8217; by her bed. I don&#8217;t know why it is, but, it seems that I get the most craziest, insightful, and inspirational ideas when I lay down to sleep. Last night, I was thinking about George Carlin and his book: Brain Droppings. In it, he wrote down some things that just popped in his head.<br />
Weelll, here are some things that popped in my head: Enjoy!</p>
<p>PENCIL-PUSHER – a person who loves to push pencils over tables, desks, floors, etc.</p>
<p>TELEPHONE OPERATOR &#8211; doctor who surgically operates on sick telephones. ( I thought of this one when I was around 5 yrs. old, honestly!)<br />
<span id="more-47"></span><br />
GHOSTWRITER – person (deceased) who writes books</p>
<p>PEA-SHOOTER – someone who shoots at peas. (c&#8217;mon, give peas a chance!)</p>
<p>TRAINING BRA – training a bra to do what exactly? Hmmm?</p>
<p>TANK TOP &#8211; top part of a tank (DUH!)</p>
<p>BAKING POWDER – talcum powder that you put in the oven at 350 degrees for 30 – 40 mins.</p>
<p>COTTON CANDY – candy you can turn into clothing. Laundering is NOT recommended!</p>
<p>ROSE BOWL PARADE &#8211; parade of varieties of bowls, ornamental and not so ornamental, with roses of different colors.</p>
<p>RUBBER STAMP – condom with the words “Rush Delivery” or &#8216;Fragile” or “Paid in Full”, etc. on the tip. Or maybe even a postage stamp: guaranteed overnight delivery!</p>
<p>Speaking of rubber: RUBBER CEMENT – special type of cement that makes people bounce when walking on it.</p>
<p>RUG BURN – rare type of skin disease that people who lay carpet can get.</p>
<p>ROAD RAGE – extreme aggravation the road get because too many people are driving on its back. (You don&#8217;t like it when people walk all over you, do you?)</p>
<p>TERRA BYTE – taking a HUGE bite out of the Earth.</p>
<p>ARROW/SPEAR HEAD – physical deformation. Can be corrected with surgery.</p>
<p>SALTPETER – a statue, made in salt, in the shape of Peter (pick your choice in Peters. I&#8217;m going for Peter Pan, myself)</p>
<p>BUNION &#8211; genetic hybrid of onions and hamburger buns.</p>
<p>GRAPESHOT – shooting at grapes</p>
<p>WAXING MOON – wax job on buttocks.</p>
<p>That&#8217;s all I got for now. Maybe I&#8217;ll have more later on.</p>
<p>Rebecca T.<strong></strong><em></em><!--more--></p>
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		<title>How Do Moms Know These Things?!</title>
		<link>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/09/how-do-moms-know-these-things/</link>
		<comments>http://phnc.net/rebecca/2009/09/how-do-moms-know-these-things/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Sep 2009 20:45:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rebecca T</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ramlbings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[illness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mother]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[psychic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[school]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sick]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[strange]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[super powers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://phnc.net/rebecca/?p=16</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One day, a long, long, long time ago&#8230; when I was in Junior high, I woke up feeling pretty good.   I usually didn&#8217;t have a big problem in getting up and getting ready to go to school.   I actually liked this school I was going to.
I did my usual routine.   Get up.  [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>One day, a long, long, long time ago&#8230; when I was in Junior high, I woke up feeling pretty good.   I usually didn&#8217;t have a big problem in getting up and getting ready to go to school.   I actually liked this school I was going to.</p>
<p>I did my usual routine.   Get up.  Get dressed.   Go fix breakfast.   Mom didn&#8217;t really have the time to fix us breakfasts like she did when we were younger.   She had to be <span id="more-16"></span>at work at 7:30 a.m. ,and we kids were old enough to cook for ourselves.</p>
<p>So me, Mom, Dexter were all in the kitchen doing something.   Dad had to be at work around 6 a.m. and  we didn&#8217;t see him until he got off work..  So we don&#8217;t include him in this tale.  Except for that part, anyway.   Mom looked at me with a weird look on her face.  She said, “You&#8217;re sick, go back to bed!”   I told her I felt fine.   She repeated her orders.   OK,  I thought,  I&#8217;ll do as she asks.   Who am I to complain about spending the day away from school when there is no problem?   <strong>NOT ME</strong>!!!</p>
<p>I went back into my room.   Put on my nightgown and went to the kitchen for something to eat.   After eating, I went back to my room, lay in bed and waited for everyone to leave.   I kept thinking:  “I&#8217;m gonna be home all day and I feel fine.   I&#8217;m going to play video games all day!   Hurray!”</p>
<p>Shortly thereafter, I started feeling a headache coming on.   Probably the excitement doing that.  Or so I thought.   It got worse quickly.   Mom came in with a thermometer, stuck it in my mouth and waited.   I had a fever.   Oh, joy!   I can&#8217;t remember what the temperature was but it had to be over 100 degrees to keep me out of school.   But, I do remember that stupid headache wouldn&#8217;t go away for some time, and I felt crappy for most of the day.</p>
<p>Some people have said that it was psychosomatic (i.e. all in my head, a self-fulling prophesy).   I can understand about the &#8216;feeling crappy&#8217; part.   But, how do you fake or induce a temperature without even trying?   And, remember:  I <em>wanted</em> to go to school!  (That right there makes those naysayers stop and think.)<br />
Anyway&#8230;</p>
<p>Even now, I keep wondering: <strong><em> How did my mom know I was sick even before I felt it</em><em>?</em></strong> Stranger things have happened, I&#8217;m sure.   But, this one is high on my &#8217;strange things&#8217; list.</p>
<p>Moms must have super-psychic powers or something.  (Creepy!  But, in a good way)</p>
<p>Rebecca T.<!--more--><!--more--><a href="http://phnc.net/rebecca/wp-admin/post.php?action=edit&#038;post=16&#038;message=1"></p>
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