 Thirteen Pictures of Prior Halloween Fun |
Out of this world pageant contestants - Miss Universe and Miss Saturn  Kurt and Courtney - When my mom saw this picture she shrieked, "Who's that slut with Colin?" Umm... yah mom that's me. Your daughter.  Mistress of the Dungeon - Living in a basement apartment for an extended period of time is not healthy.  Lollipop Girl with The Crow - I handed out lollipops to everyone at the party!  The Beastie Boys - Intergalactic Planetary, Planetary Intergalactic  Fortune Teller Reservoir Dogs - Mr. Orange **  Geeky Garage Dudes  Puppy love  Alex the Lion  Baby Cheetah  Casting spells - The Little Witch  Pumpkin Baby 
*Spooky banner was created by the talented Denise.
**Edited: I stand corrected. It was not Mr. Pink but Mr. Orange who had the stomach gunshot wound.
Links to other Thursday Thirteens:
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One stinky shark. Pea-You!
I found out from the incomparable Mom 101 that I could help raise awareness for Breast Cancer. (Of course, I want to be just like her but not pregnant.)
She has included some very cool links to help us stay informed and some products that we could buy that are donating proceeds to breast cancer research and prevention. Yummy things like Chick Chocolates which I purchased when I was in Seattle for my first girl's weekend. Mmmmm... delicious! I highly recommend them.
The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation has more products that are supporting research.
The facts in Canada:
· In 2006, over 22,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer.
· Breast cancer survivors represent 1% of the female population.
· The good news is that the incidence rates of breast cancer have stabilized since 1993, and mortality rates have declined steadily.
In a perfect world, cancer would be something that our future generations would only know about from information in text books.
Yesterday I attempted humour. I have discovered that I obviously suck at tone. Or maybe I just have some very intuitive readers who are thoughtful and caring to no end. They are an insightful group that saw past my lame attempt at a fluffy filler post. After spending two hours working on my next installment of my Top 100 albums, out of nowhere, there was a freak power outage. I went to bed in the dark frustrated as hell. I woke up and banged out a throw away post about spooky spirits that cause me to check multiple times on whether I have locked the door. This is the type of thing that makes me laugh about myself because, darn it all anyhow, I love to laugh at myself.
When I saw the support in the comments, I knew it was time to write the post that I don't want to write. You see I actually do suffer from a condition that is treated by medicine and therapy. It is something that is not widely known about or understood. In fact I've gone to several doctors and confessed that I have a problem. Not one has offered any solution. I am sure they would have if I pressed, but I feel shame, so I don't.
I was ten years old when my battle with a disorder referred to as Trichotillomania first began. It started innocently with making wishes on eyelashes. I sat in the back of my fifth grade class and pulled out one eyelash and then another. And then another. Soon the outer corners of my eyes were bald. I would be desperate to try to grow them back but when the short hairs poked through they irritated my eyes and I needed to get rid of the new growth.
Unconsciously I moved to hair below my knees. It completely cleared my mind when I picked the hairs one by one. I would lose all track of time. When I was tired or anxious I was more vulnerable. Sometimes I did it without thinking and there were other times when it was a methodical way to make me feel calm.
My missing eyelashes and the rash that would appear on my legs embarrassed me. I was not alone in my embarrassment. My family couldn't understand why I would do it and no one even knew that it was a condition. It was considered a bad habit that looked awful. I felt more shame. I was often disgusted with myself.
When I reached my twenties, my anxieties must have been at an all time high. I no longer had any eyelashes. No amount of make up could disguise this fact. For special occasions I would buy fake eyelashes that irritated my eyes. It was the only time that I felt pretty.
Thankfully not having eyelashes must be shocking because no one would question me. One summer I decided that I had suffered enough embarrassment. I wanted to see if they would even grow back. With much concentration on making sure that any hair pulling was elsewhere, my eyelashes returned. I vowed to never let myself get that bad again. With some new gained confidence, I thought I could conquer my pulling completely. There are times that I can control it but I always fall back into my ways. I have never received treatment but I know that it is an option if I felt that it was necessary.
Right now I don't think that I would consider taking medicine to stop me from pulling out a few hairs on a bad day. I know that many others have a much harder time with Trichotillomania. The shame, disapproval and guilt are a lot to take on when obviously there is a bigger problem to deal with. Knowing that this is a real disorder and that I am not the only person that is struggling with this condition helps immensely.
I have my suspicions that an evil force is trying to invade my brain. After checking to see if I have locked the door I walk away thinking that some dark side Jedi has convinced me that I have locked the door, when in fact they have made me leave the door unlocked so that my most precious darlings will be stolen.After reading the timely advice from Gloria Steinem on suggesting that we leave our children with our husbands, it felt like some kind of experiment when I flew away for three whole glorious days. (Yes over a week ago. I feel the need to apologize for putting sleep before blogging. I have an unquenchable desire to spend time unconscious.)
What made me nervous was that Colin was not nervous in the slightest. Personally, I would have been! Having to look after everything, for an extended period of time, with no relief in sight, while your significant other is off gallivanting can be tiresome. However it appears that they are always on their best behavior for Colin. He swears that they start crying and whining the moment that I walk in the door from work. I don't think this reflects well on me. No doubt, I will have to get him a Father of the Year Gold Trophy for the den. (We don't have a den.)
A gallivanting I did go...
I arrived in Halifax to meet my longtime friends. Before I even spotted them, I heard Jade's laughter ring through the airport. We quickly hightailed it to the airport liquor store to buy some red wine. Only after we each picked a bottle could we fetch my luggage. We had to force ourselves to go to sleep that night. Gone are the days where we'd giggle ourselves awake until four A.M. Well not quite. I was sharing a room with Violet and we kept calling off our conversation with a responsible "OK that is it really. We have got to get to sleep. Goodnight." And then we'd find another topic that we clearly had to discuss. We had quite few rounds of this.
(Something Amber, Violet, Ruby and Jade at Hall's Harbour. Yah, that's not there given names but they'll do just fine here!)
Friday I managed to wake up to say hello to Amber's husband and five year old son. I wished them a good day before crawling back into bed for a couple more hours of rest. This was a smart thing because our first full day was filled with Go, Go goodness.
The misty day included a trip to Hall's Harbour, to Huntington Point to see the magical Macdonald Cottages, lunch at a cafe in Kentville, to Acadia University, the Just Us! Café in Wolfville for coffee and chocolate, wine tasting at Domaine de Grand Pré, a quick peek of the Blomidon Inn, a local market to buy Honeycrisp apples and then dinner at Tempest.
The next beautiful, sunny autumn day was just as action packed. After the required daily trip to Coldbrook's Tim Horton's we headed to Mahone Bay where we stumbled across their Annual Great Scarecrow Festival. Off we went for a picnic in Lunenburg. I freaked out when a bumblebee got caught in my hair. Thank goodness for Amber who rescued me by detangling my beehive. We admired the colourful stores and houses. We dipped into a coffee shop where we sat on their deck and watched the Bluenose II come to shore. The Swissair Flight 111 Memorial was on the way to Peggy's Cove. I introduced Ruby and Violet to Hoegaarden beer at The Library Pub, where we sang Elton John songs with the Piano man over supper. Back at Amber's we shared some bubbly Blueberry Sparkling Wine from the previous day's venture to the Domaine de Grand Pré.(Grapes at Domaine de Grand Pré, The Macdonald Cottage at Huntington Point, Lighthouse at Peggy's Cove, pumpkins on the roof of a market in Mahone Bay)
