LOT'S WIFE

LOT'S WIFE..Turn around..look back...see with new eyes

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

THE "I" OF THE STORM


2005 was a record year for hurricanes in the western hemisphere, with 13 named storms hitting the continental United States alone.  Hurricane Wilma (the forgotten one) was the last of these storms, making landfall in Southwest Florida, just south of Naples, on Monday, October 24, 2005 with winds of 125 mph.

 Wilma was the most intense tropical cyclone ever recorded in the Atlantic basin.



Wilma was the twenty-second storm, the thirteenth hurricane,  the sixth major hurricane, and the fourth Category 5 hurricane of the record-breaking 2005 season.


Wilma is ranked among the top five most costly hurricanes ever recorded in the Atlantic and the fourth most costly storm in United States history. Over 60 people were killed by the time it was over.




 Due to significant damage in Mexico and Florida, the name Wilma was officially retired in April 2006 by the World Meteorological Organization, and will never be used for an Atlantic storm again. It was replaced by Whitney on List III of the Atlantic hurricane naming lists which is used next in the 2011 season. This also made Wilma the first W name to be retired in the Atlantic basin.


On Sunday, the 23rd of October 2005, my mother, 3 dogs, and I evacuated to Haines City which is between Tampa and Orlando.  I remember driving out of my community on that perfect Florida morning...all the flowers in bright colors, the waving palms, and a clear, clear day. We were rather stunned to be having to do this so late in the hurricane season.




 We stayed at the Howard Johnson's with what appeared to be most of the population of  Naples and Marco Island and their various dogs and cats... (the motel allowed pets during emergencies). 


 As it turned out Wilma was so massive that we spent the night and Monday in a violent tropical storm.  We had not gone far enough north.... Wilma covered the entire state.


We drove back on Tuesday morning not knowing what we would find.
Davis Avenue, one of our main streets,  looked like a war zone.  All the telephone poles were down, the palms were ripped up, and the signals were out.  All the flowers were gone.  On many buildings and metal light poles the paint had been stripped down to the primer by the wind.


Neither one of us knew what we would find when we arrived at our homes.  As it turned out all was ok. My cul de sac had stood up to the storm and so did my mother's villa.   



My mother was lucky...her home is on the government emergency grid so she still had power...the rest of us did not.  My half of my community would be among the very last to regain our electricity over a week and a half l later.  We were grateful that this was late in the season and air conditioning was not needed.....it made a huge difference.



Debris was everywhere.  But that afternoon all of us were out cleaning up.  There were mountains of debris lining all the streets for weeks. On some streets throughout Naples there was not a roof that did not have a blue tarp on it..we joked about it...and were guiltily glad that it was not our house.



  We helped each other....and we reached out to help the poorest in our county. Those areas were hit particularly hard.  I always look back with pride at the way Florida handled all these storms.



 But it damaged all of us to greater or lesser degrees.  As the 2006 hurricane season approached the anxiety level rose. All year long people talked about Wilma...in stores, on the golf course, in restaurants, on the street.   Radio announcements started occurring about support lines that could be accessed for anxiety and depression brought on by the storms.  There were public service spots targeting children who  had become fearful of rain and thunder.

Then the first tropical waves started to appear in the Atlantic and we held our collective breath. These storms damage more than property and livelihoods. They become the terrorist in your psyche.



I wrote this in June of 2006 after returning home from the grocery store.  I had stood in line with about six other people and all we discussed was the state of the Atlantic... the new wave....I saw that all had the same look on their faces and the same fear in their voices.....the same look that I knew was on my face...the same fear that was in my voice......it never goes away....


POST TRAUMATIC

We have hurricane eyes.





We recognize each other as we stand in line to buy our water and batteries amongst the blue-tarped roofs and dying palms.




The season is upon us again.

That, now so familiar, cold niggle of fear returns like worms in our bellies as we watch the first tropical wave crawl across the Atlantic.





Devastation as entertainment, the media records the events, enthralled by the force, but leaves us to recover unnoticed.




It is still broken here and the storms gather like wolves.





We have hurricane eyes.....




Sunday, August 21, 2011

THE SITUATION ROOM




If you have read my last two blog entries then you already know that I lost BOTH my dogs within one week of each other ( in other words…they DIED).




Since then I have been experiencing what is cleverly called SITUATIONAL DEPRESSION…I guess because my SITUATION has been REALLY depressing!


The question has been …. how do I get through the depression until I get used to my new situation…which is a house completely devoid of another living thing.



Being a woman my first reaction to my SITUATION (between crying jags) was to spend a lot of time in a deep relationship with Chocolate Chunk Cherry ice cream. This actually worked until I crashed into a hypoglycemic canyon….I have now eliminated sugar from my life (it makes me sad).




Then I went online (of course) and googled …trying to find suggestions that would magically make me feel better. I will share a few that appeared (and yes these really did appear):


Get outside and get some sun! The Vitamin D is good for you!..  (but at my age it makes me look like crushed leather)



Take a multivitamin (seriously…um…what I took was St. John’s Wort…trust me, it works)




Write a hand-written letter to someone (no…no…spent many years waiting for the technology that would free me from writing by hand)


Go for a long walk (this did not work as the walk thing is what I did with one of my dogs and all it did was make me sad)


Paint your toenails a funky color (except that would draw attention to my old feet which are funky enough)






Drink more water ..(why)


Make an effort to chat someone up in public  (This mostly consisted of telling random strangers that my dogs were dead…which I admit elicited sympathy but then they all wanted to tell me about their dead dogs and this made us all sad)


Buy a slinky and let it crawl down a set of stairs in public ( do NOT try this on an escalator……they get caught in a never ending cycle…..slinkies are now on the list of THINGS THAT MAKE ME SAD)




 Watch Sex in the City ( When I first saw this I thought it said WATCH SEX….which had its possibilities but then I would have had to add it to my COMCAST bill and…COMCAST already makes me sad …)


Read “O” magazine ( upon exploration I found that the first article was about how pets enhance lives….”O “now makes me sad)




Take a nap (this was pretty much how I had spent my days…when I wasn’t crying or eating ice cream..I guess I was only supposed to take A nap..not make it a lifestyle)


Start a postcard collection (and I would do this WHY?)




Smile at everyone you think is hot that walks by you (I live in Florida…EVERYONE is hot!..)


Instead of fussing over “extra pounds” use “ FAT IS WHERE IT’S AT as your mantra (this kind of supports my CHOCOLATE CHUNK CHERRY approach)


Write a poem (I did that…it was about my DEAD DOGS!)


Use a lotion with self tanner in it, or self tanner… the glow will make you feel better (it didn’t)




 Cut down on your caffeine intake (uh…caffeine was the only thing that kept me from the napping lifestyle…)


Buy a jump rope and burn calories while you have fun (have a foot neuroma….NOT going to happen)


Tell that guy being a jerk to go f@#k himself. (yes…could do that except the GUYS in my life who are jerks are all middle school adolescents and I am their teacher…bad form..and I NEED my job)






Every time you look in the mirror, tell yourself you’re a sexy bitch, even if people are around! (I am still trying to get a visual on this one)

Get a sexy shade of lip gloss (because everyone knows that lip gloss makes you forget….)


Watch Saturday morning cartoons (like Clifford, The Big Red DOG)




Keep a kit of daily necessities you can’t live without by your side at all times (like ice cream, Kleenex, and a pillow).


Join a social networking group (People Who Have Dead Dogs)




Spend time with children and elders ( I am a teacher and my mother lives in the community next door to mine…..enough said?)

Don’t spend time with negative people (I teach middle school…..)


Meditate (Why are my dogs dead…oommmmmmmm)




Take frequent “breathers” at work ( hello…I teach MIDDLE SCHOOL!! )


Invest in a down comforter (Florida…we do not understand down comforters)


Let bullshit roll off your shoulders (I actually put this one into practice)






So how, you ask, have I spent my days? It is all about distraction….


I found the game, ZUMA, to have a therapeutic effect. To play it one has to concentrate and when one is concentrating one is distracted…ZUMA…lots and lots of ZUMA.


And, speaking of distraction, I want to thank the creators of the following TV series… FALLING SKIES, MTV’S TEEN WOLF, and MEMPHIS BEAT. All just had their season finales…you got me through the month with three consecutive nights of weekly episodic anticipation.








I am a reader but if you look to the right at my reading list you will notice that THE COMING REVOLUTION is still in progress (sorry Walid…but trying to focus and teach myself about what the hell is going on in our world makes me sad).


ATLAS SHRUGGED is only half read…( Objectivism makes me sad.)


But, I HAVE completed 2 foo foo mysteries, 1 ghost story, and 1 young adult novel.. ….distraction.


And…now my awful summer has ended.  I have completed my first week back at work…remember…middle school teacher?   My duties have changed dramatically and have immersed me in distraction.  However, I did learn that, when my happy enthusiastic colleagues asked me how my summer was I should not have blurted out MY DOGS DIED!




Depression is a thief.  It steals all the fun out of life and leaves you trying to cope without the tools you need.  Humor is one of those tools, and it's more important than one might think.  I HAD a sense of humor until my SITUATION became DEPRESSING.  I am trying to recover it.   So I leave you with some jokes:





Welcome to the Psychiatric Hotline.


If you are obsessive-compulsive, please press 1 repeatedly.


If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2.


If you have multiple personalities, please press 3, 4, 5, and 6.


If you are paranoid-delusional, we know who you are and what you want. Just stay on the line so we can trace the call.


If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will tell you which number to press.


If you are depressed, it doesn't matter which number you press. No one will answer.


If you are delusional and occasionally hallucinate, please be aware that the thing you are holding on the side of your head is alive and about to bite off your ear.


 I was depressed last night so I called Lifeline. They've got a call center in Pakistan. I told them I hated my life.... They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.




 I was walking along the beach when I kicked a bottle poking up through the sand. Opening it, I was astonished to see a cloud of smoke and a genie smiling at me.


"For your kindness," the genie said, "I will grant you one wish!" I paused, laughed, and replied, "I have always wanted a road from Hawaii to California."


The genie grimaced, thought for a few minutes and said, "Listen, I'm sorry, but I can't do that! Think of all the pilings needed to hold up the highway and how long they'd have to be to reach the bottom of the ocean. Think of all the pavement. That's too much to ask."


"OK," I said, not wanting to be unreasonable. . Make me understand ME. What makes me laugh and cry, why am I temperamental, why am I so difficult to get along with, what do I really want? Basically, teach me to understand what makes ME tick!"


The genie paused, and then sighed, "Did you want two lanes or four?"