Election Day

Today is the day where we exercise our right to be heard and cast our votes for the next leader of the United States of America, among other offices. I've never been super into politics, mostly because the whole thing is so overwhelming and people are adamant in hammering their opinions on who you should vote for into your head that like many other aspects in my life, it cause me to just shut down in defeat. I can barely make my own important choices throughout the day, it's miraculous that I keep myself alive. It makes me question whether or not I should have a say in how an entire country should be run but then I remember that there are plenty of people much less.... intelligent? of solid breeding? human? than I who are also making this decision, therefore it is my duty to head to the ballot box and become part of the process.

I think the biggest issue with politics is the "yeah but". Everything has two sides and based on opinion these two sides can be extremely differing. Politics, at the end of the day are black white. With a whole lot of gray in between.  Also I've been waiting to use this analogy for awhile and this is a good example:

I really like spring salad. If you don't know what that is then go find some and get back to me. But here is my issue with spring salad, I only like parts of it, the other parts I don't really like that much. So I will go to the store, buy some spring salad, go home and eat the parts I like and throw the rest away. It's wasteful and it doesn't make much since but I really, really like the parts I like. Enough so I am willing to pay for it just to pick through it to get to those parts. I could just bit the bullet and eat all of it but I really don't like those other parts and they leave a bad taste in my mouth. Unfortunately, I will never convince a store to change their entire recipe just to satisfy my specific taste. Not just because it wouldn't make any since but then it wouldn't be spring salad anymore, it would be something entirely different.

This is my stance on politics. Sometimes I don't like things as a whole. There are pieces that I can't stand but on the other hand there are parts that I really do like. Basically I have to dig through to find the parts I do like, that mean the most to me, even if that means having to also deal with all the other shit that I don't like that much.

Word Bombs Everywhere

So a few month agooooo.... I had an interesting conversation with someone and it kept bugging me so I wrote about it. I didn't get around to posting it because I'm lazy and I felt like I needed enough of a buffer to not be obvious about it. It was a post explaining the feelings I had that ended with an uplifting message about forgiveness and empathy. Today, I'm feeling a little different about the situation because today I'm in one of those 'zero fox given' modes. I keep telling myself to put down the keyboard but I'm a sucker for dramatics so away we go!

Hey. What's up? You seemed a little pointed in that conversation we had. In fact, everyone I shared it with, which I seem to have a lot of people who care about me so I shared it with quite a few, all thought it was pretty fucking ridiculous. They wanted me to respond with some fairly harsh words but here's the thing, I don't care. I do not care how you feel about me. I don't care if you feel I wronged you in some way because I know that anyone else who looks at this situation would agree that you were the one who is being irrational. You disliking me for what essentially you made the choice to become involved in, doesn't affect my life one iota. I'm not going to feel bad for something I had nothing to do with. And I can promise the other side of the party that was actually involved, doesn't give an eff either.

Also, if you haven't realized, everyone has shit in their lives. You act like you are the only one dealing with it, you're not. You're not some special circumstance where everything falls on you just a little harder than everyone else. One time you told me there are two types of people in the world, those who act like a victim and those who don't. There are two other kinds of people, those who try see things for what they are and handle it in a healthy, understanding way and then there are those who decide to be a Negative Nancy and attempt to make others feel bad because they feel they are owed something. I can admit, sometimes I'm the latter but at least I fucking own it. At least I'm aware of my own unhealthiness and I don't blame it on other people.

Feel free to take some time to reflect on exact what you're pissed off about. If you're able, which after all these years of holding on to shit I have very little confidence you are, take a look at it from the other side. Don't just look for reasons to justify your feelings, open yourself to the possibility that there was and maybe still is something much deeper than the initial issue you chose to attach your feelings to.

Me writing all this might seem like I give a shit but I assure you I don't. I'm writing all this because I feel like you obviously surround yourself in people who only try to cater to your best interest, whether they truly feel that way or not. It just makes me feel grateful I have family and friends that call me out on my bullshit. It would really kind of suck to live in a world of self imposed ignorance.

*drops mic*

The Time I Was Committed - Part One

I figured I'd write this post for anyone who is curious as to what it's like to be sent to a "psych ward" because I can't lie, I've always been curious myself. Luckily for you little wombats, I went crazy, got sent to one and can tell you all about it! I'll be writing this in a series since it takes place over a few days. So here is part one, starting after the police transported me to the hospital around 4:00pm or so on the fateful Wednesday afternoon.

Once in the emergency room, I sat in triage until a room in the actual emergency room opened up. Apparently they only have one or two behavioral rooms so it was a very long wait. Like 6 hours long. During this time, I had a police officer guard my door, then eventually a hospital security guard once they realized I wasn't going to do anything but sit there and wait. While I waited I had an evaluation with a psychiatrist over Skype, after the evaluation she recommended a committal. Knowing I had no choice and hoping it would make things easier, I gave my consent. I figured if I committed myself, I would be able to leave whenever I wanted. Later I would find out, that is not how it works. Finally a behavioral room opened up and I was moved. At this point they take everything you have, since I had my husband with me, they allowed my personal belongings in the room. I was asked to strip down to my underwear, I was not allowed to keep my bra, and given one of those open robe things to wear. The furniture in the room was made of this hard plasticy foamy type stuff. There I would stay until they could find me a bed somewhere. As it got later, they brought me in a "bed" to sleep on.

I can't say I don't understand why they have to take the precautions they do, I get it completely. It's a safety thing. Around 11pm, a nurse told me they received a court order and they could now legally place me. This shocked me, I figured since I volunteered to a committal that we wouldn't need to go through the courts but I was told no, the only way they will place you is if you get a judge to sign off on it. I don't know how accurate this statement was but at the time I was feeling a thousand different things so I didn't even ask anymore questions. I don't remember what time it was, very early morning I think, the nurse came in to tell me I had been placed. She assured me it was one of the nicer units in Iowa, a hospital called St Anthony's. They had placed a call in for a transport and were waiting to hear back. Throughout this entire endeavor and the huge stress that had come with it, I wasn't really in the healthiest place. After the several hours that had past, I began to gain the lucidity back and realize what was going on. Once the reality began to set it, I was frantic. Never having been in a situation like this before, I was terrified as to what I was about to experience. I had no idea what to expect and all I wanted to do was go home. At about 8:30 am, the transport arrived and I was loaded into a car and driven a little over an hour away to the hospital.
 
Between waiting for a place to sit in the emergency room to waiting for a bed at a behavioral unit, I waited about 16 hours. I was not overly surprised. Prior to that visit, I had gone to a hospital in a nearby city after my family had a small intervention on me to commit myself and was told there were no beds, no one would be discharged until at least the next day and there was already someone in the ER who had been waiting for 22 hours. Yes, this is the actual state of affairs when it comes to someone trying to get help. Because I was with family and would have support at home, they sent me on my way but there are many people who need the help that don't have a family to keep them safe.

So this is part one of my story. The next part will be my arrival and first day or so at the hospital.   

Postpartum Depression

Super exciting news everyone! On Wednesday October 11th, 2016 we welcomed into the world the newest member of our family, Piper. I am once again an auntie! Everything went perfect and she's a perfect bundle of joy. I was lucky enough to be there for the entire experience and witnessed the miracle of childbirth firsthand. I think it is best described as UUAAAHHHHH, *toothpaste squeeze*, POP! SPLLOOOSHHHHH, WATERFALL OF LIQUIDS, WAAAHHHHHHH.

Overall it was very interesting and very rewarding. Unfortunately, the reality soon hit me and my emotional train choo choo'ed right out of the station. What sucks is how you can be so happy for someone but so sad at the same time. Just being up in the room, becoming an auntie to a new little angel but at the same time becoming the only woman in the family who has yet to have a child of her own. Every time the doors of the elevator open and the big window of the OB nursery fills my view I remember back to a time I was so full of hope and nervousness, so sure that I would be having a baby within a year. Those memories never go away either. The baby class, the pamphlets, the happy browsing for what items I was sure we would need, potential names, announcing to our stepson on a car ride to a concert, "So how do you feel about becoming a big brother?!". Just knowing it was finally time to bring a new life into the world. Then the pangs of sadness come, the memories of the bloody sign my period came again, the negative pregnancy tests, followed by negative ovulation tests. Blood draws, consultations, more tests and bad news. The tears that never seemed to stop, the emptiness, the hope turns to hopelessness, self doubt, wondering if this is the universe telling me "You are unfit to be a mother". Then the self-hate, telling myself I don't want kids anyways, I can't even take care of myself how would I handle taking care of someone else. Attempts to convince myself, I don't even like kids. What makes me think I'm allowed to have a child, I'll just fuck them up too. I should just be alone forever, I don't deserve anything. The anger at the world, I should have had that, this should be something I know about firsthand, this should be me.

There is so much more than that though. There are so many emotions wrapped up in the whole situation and unless you've been through it, it's hard to understand. Impossible to understand. As much as I like to pretend it doesn't bother me and that it's not a big deal or joke about my barren womb, it sticks with you. It affects so much of your life in ways you can't even explain. Even if I were to have a child someday, those memories will never fade. That struggle will always stay with me as long as I live. And it sucks but it's a part of who I am. I just hope that in some way, somehow it made me stronger.

Cats On Cats On Rabbits

What I have failed to mention because I've been too busy writing about my sad life is I managed to obtain kitten number two a few weeks ago. We stopped by a gas station and this little black oil slick came walking up like it was no big deal. So of course I had to stop everything I was doing and catch the damn thing, walk it to the gas station, hold the kitten out in front of me and ask the cashier, "Does this belong to you?" Apparently it did not, hence me having acquired kitten number two that would be later known as Jax. Jax is an all black kitten, a week or two older than C.C. and when we first got him, a very mild mannered kitten. He was quite relaxed until C.C. decided he was a new play thing at which point he turned into a banshee. Whenever C.C. would try to play, Jax would serenade us with his best "Help me, I'm being murdered by a poltergeist" yowls. After about three weeks of getting bully beatdown by the orange fury, Jax finally learned how to stand up for himself and start fighting back, sans yowling. Thinking this was a good thing, the playful kittens got a lot of laughter and awwws. They still play will each other but only more...demonically, which has resulted in both of them needing special ointment because they love to kangaroo gouge each others eyes out with litter box feet, resulting in them each having a case of pink/gouge eye. Like idiots.

I could deal with the yowling, I could deal with the mortal kombat style fighting but they have now decided that everything in the house is fair game. The sweet little kitten purrs the once filled the night has now been replaced with mystery banging and crashing. They have basically turned the entire house into their personal American Gladiator arena/parkour course. They also enjoy murder attempts by running underneath your feet while you walk anywhere.

I don't just blame the kittens. Magnus the house bunny recently decided that me bring two kittens into the house makes me literally Hitler and he shows his disapproval by headbutting everything the fat ball of fluff can come in contact with, including said kittens. The kittens then retaliate by scaling the rabbit cage or laying just on the outside of it while they bop him on the nose. Then since I am truly the one at fault here, Magnus goes into my studio office and chews any and all documents that he can get to. Which considering he is a slightly....ok maybe more than slightly... overweight fluffy basketball, he does an incredible job getting to said documents.

So yeah, my house is basically just a bunch of half-feral animals running rampant while I cry in the corner. This is the life I chose.

Rev Rach and the Exorcism

It was the evening of December 2nd, 2008 I decided to become an ordained minister. Via the internet, of course. And it was the evening of May 26th, 2012 I became Rev Rach.

Though I had been ordained for approximately 3 years, 5 months and 24 days and performed one legal marriage ceremony in that time, it wasn't until 5-26-2012 that I fully became who is and will always be known as Rev Rach. I assume I'm not the first person who has had their moment of clarity after the fact, there are probably men and women all over the world who become people of God and not until years later stumble upon a revelation of their true calling. Like maybe monks and nuns? Unlike them, I'm not particularly religious, hell I can barely spell the word, but I do believe that others believe that there is something grander in the universe than ourselves. Does this mean there is someone in the great beyond calling the shots? No, at least I don't think so. But then how do you explain the collaboration of Lady Gaga and Beyonce in "Telephone"? That's right YOU CAN'T just like I can't say if there is or is not a higher power

Regardless of which power does what, where...the important think is that on the 26th day of May in the year of two thousand and twelveith, Rev Rach was born. Like a phoenix rises from the ashes, all the glory that be personified into a wondrous spectacle of a southern baptist preacher at one of those old timey revivals.

It all happened on a warm spring night at my friend's bachelorette party. After a passion party of vibrators and lube being passed around, some light snacking, drinks and a hot, sweaty bus ride the bride was not feeling to hot. So there I was, at an impasse. Do I let my friend die on the curb from heat exhaustion or do I do something about it? I took in my surroundings, fair maidens were already coddling the poor bride to be with water and cool paper towels, the steeple of a church loomed over us as we asked, "What can we do?!" Deep inside me, I searched for a reason. Any reason to not have to go home for I was only a little wasted and wanted to be a lot wasted. "Back the fuck up..." I said to the beautiful gaggle of gals, "I got this..." With a mighty deep breath and closed eyes I called to the Heavens, "Jesus!!! JE--SUS! Our Savior, Lord Almighty I ask upon you to release this child from these demons that have taken over her soul. TAKE THESE DEMONS AND PULL THEM FROM THIS CHILD. BREATH YOUR SWEET HEAVENLY BREATH INTO HER AND REVIVE HER WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT! LORD OH LORD. LET US FEEL YOUR POWER AND HEEEAALLL THIS POOR SOUL..." With that, my body was taken by the Holy Spirit and I was a crucible of healing. I danced, I shouted, I sang the song of truth for Jesus is a biscuit, LET HIM SOP YOU UP.

By the end of it, my girl was completely better and Rev Rach had solidified a place in the hearts of many, including my own. So whenever you are feeling down and feel the need to cast those demons from your soul, ask yourself a simple question: Have you exorcised today?

Milestones Giveaway!!

Over 10,500 HITS! Holy shit guys, this is mind blowing. Sure some of them were from the creepy Russian in his tundra shack but still! My blog has been clicked over 10,000 times! Even if you minus the spam sites, talking to you vampirestats.com, I'm still over 10,000 hits so that is seriously awesome!

To celebrate this good feeling, I've decided to have a giveaway. I'll be giving away two mugs. One is very similar to one of my favorite coffee cups, that I recently accidentally dropped and busted the handle off but still use because I am dangerous as hellllll. The other will be a custom made coffee mug featuring the Life with Lavenders logo or some shit plus a surprise picture! I have no idea how to do this giveaway thing so I guess comment below to be entered or get on Facebook, like the Life With Lavenders page if you haven't already and then share the page with your friends. Then maybe comment on the Facebook post that you did it, so I get notified. Like I said, no idea what I'm doing. And I know, its a lot of work but for fuck's sake, you could get a free coffee/vodka mug. Everyone loves free shit.

Mug #1

Stolen from Amazon.com. Sorry bout it.

Mug #2

So yeah! I'm super excited about this! I'll actually try to not procrastinate and get these shipped/delivered to their rightful winners in a decent time frame as well. My promise to you. Anyways to give people plenty of time I will post this tonight Monday, August 29th and will give people until sayyyyy...September 6th to do the damn thing.

Yay! Prizes!