the .: fyr :. light

Kitty cats and strange noises

Camille — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 17:11:30 +0000

So funny story:

Our water is off today to allow for the installation of new fire hydrants in our little neighbourhood.

True to my Jamaican upbringing, I gathered together what I could and caught some water for myself to use. You never know when you may need to make a small cleanup or wash your hands thoroughly for some reason … or have to make an emergency flush on the toilet.

At about 10:30, I started to hear some gurgling noises. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the direction, but soon the kitties did it for me. The toilet intake was coughing because the water was turned back on (only briefly, mark you) and the pressure was pushing air out through the pipes and into the tank. So of course, knowing how that can blow a pipe’s workings easily, I turned the toilet intake off and turned on the bathroom tub faucet to allow the air to pass harmlessly out.

The cats were both scared and curious. This really is no good without a photograph and maybe I’ll be here when it comes on again to get another photo of them having at it. (I’ll attach it if and when I do.)

The funny part is watching them sitting at the doorway to the bathroom, their heads twisting first one way and then another… Nala clearly decided the door stopper was the culprit and proceeded to bat at it with her foot (stop … the … noise … you … stupid … thing…), Binky decided he was more scared than curious (rare indeed) and jumped onto the desk in the room across the hall to watch from afar. Nala actually got halfway through the doorway and peered around the door … but silly me wanting to see more moved closer and startled her.

Hilarious! My kitties are the best – they keep me sane.

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Bad fairy tale piece

Camille — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 15:14:03 +0000

Here’s some REALLY bad fairy-tale writing for you all today. Sitting on hold, being hungry, worrying about hubby, feeling tired and icky – all equal completely useless writings:

Once upon a time
In a land far, far away
There lived a princess
Whose prince was in a land
Many leagues hence
She would get word
From him daily
On how he was doing and
What was happening.
And then suddenly there was nothing
And she was sad.

There is a Jamaican quote, I am sure, regarding getting used to something only to have it taken away suddenly … now if I could only remember it.

I know, I know – some people don’t have the everyday communications that I have gotten used to, but it’s still a little disconcerting to lose it without warning after you’ve gotten used to it. And whether or not you know to NOT get used to it or not, is completely separate from what your brain actually ends up doing.

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Is this a good omen of peaceful coexistence?

Camille — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 04:16:09 +0000

I can’t believe they were laying there so peacefully together. I hope it is a sign of things to come …. Soon!

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Beauty contests as coverup?

Camille — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 15:05:48 +0000

Sometime last week was, apparently, the Miss Universe 2010 pageant. Twitter was a-buzz with it and to some extent so was my Facebook friends list. I have to admit that my interest in beauty contests remains limited to a brief stint back in 1993 when an old high school and music classmate of mine not only secured the Miss Jamaica World title, but went on to win the Miss World title as well.

I have never been a fan of beauty contests. They have always seemed to me to be more along the lines of “noise”.

Let me explain:

There are 2 types of people, those who must have enough noise around them so as to not hear to the silence within themselves, and those who revel in the silence within themselves. There is a smattering of the judgmental in me when I talk about those people who must have noise … and I abashedly admit to being a little judgmental – these are the people who must always have a conversation going at full speed, must always have an agenda of fun-filled activities to fill each day, who don’t know what it is to spend days in the pages of a good book and who despair at quiet candle-lit nights filled with nothing more than staring up at the stars for hours on end.

It is within that circle of persons that I place the whole concept of beauty contests. It’s all “pomp and circumstance” …

it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

~ (Macbeth)

As usual, this year’s Miss Jamaica Universe contest was filled with debate about whether the undeniably beautiful Yendi Phillips was a true representation of the wider female population of our country. It is a debate that never fails to heat up and in some situations boil over (some of you might remember the ink blots of the Kimberly Mais reign, for example).

And each and every year, the debate incenses me because for the life of me I canNOT imagine why it is that Jamaicans must focus their attention and time and effort on a senseless debate. Beauty contests were not made for you and me. Beauty is subjective, and there is no place on this human-inhabited earth where all opinions are going to coincide. Yendi may be beautiful to you and I, but not to the next person in line. It’s a futile pursuit.

Imagine, instead, all the passion of this particular debate poured into bolstering and assisting the fight against crime and indiscipline in the Jamaican society.

Heady images, aren’t they?

Ha! Pity that is not likely to happen within our lifetimes or those of our children.

I really wish we spent more time and energy on the debate of the efforts for the improvement of ourselves and our society. I wish that all the passion spent in offering up opinions about who is beautiful, and who is represented and what the actual motives of such events and their planners and organizers was better applied in areas that we can actually make a difference.

I’d like to hear more about how people intend to solve the problem of corrupt law enforcement and the fear among civilians to actually do what is right due to an untenable amount of pressure by a criminal element that reigns supreme. I’d like to hear more about how we can stop heavy vehicles from driving through residential and quiet zones. I’d like to hear more about utility price regulation debates.

Who on the world’s stage REALLY cares how many people in the world, or even Jamaica itself, think Yendi is only representative of a small section of the Jamaican society? Don’t you think they care more about the title of one of the most dangerous tourist destinations – true or not, I think that’s a cause better debated – don’t you?

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All the things I never understood until now

Camille — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 20:22:10 +0000

Whilst I was preparing for this deployment, I stumbled upon many situations where people would bitch about things that seemed really trivial and anal. Little by little, however, I am realizing that you really can’t know what it’s like until you are in the situation.

I should know this lesson by now … I’ve found myself on the inside AND outside of this concept so many times that it should be perfectly obvious to me by now.

The one that struck me today was a comment by a military spouse with a non-deployed husband. She missed her husband – she commutes to a neighbouring state to work whilst he remains back home to work. I couldn’t help but feel as resentful as the bitchy army wife I read about on the MilSpouse website forums so many months ago. I really felt like saying “I bet he’s stateside though, eh?” or maybe a little more nasty with a “Be thankful he’s not half a world away”. It’s amusing since I believe these were the EXACT same sentiments that that wife on the forums was expressing. Amusing because back then I was muttering whilst I read and saying, “Chill out! The whole world is not defined by you and your deployed husband.” …

Except … that the WORLD is defined solely by hubby being deployed. MY whole world!

I squelched my bitch-response … but it got me thinking about perspectives and this one in particular that I am not entirely sure that people get.

I mean … do you guys GET why it is such a big deal?

I don’t even know if I can explain it in terms that can give you the full picture and feelings … but I am going to try…

It feels like you are all alone in the world; you know you aren’t because you have family and friends and hobbies and interests and work, but you still feel alone…
You very easily feel lonely in the middle of a crowded place – a club, the mall, the supermarket…
It feels as if you’ve suddenly started speaking a foreign language – as if no one else can understand what you’re saying.
It seems as if all you ever do anymore is bid goodbye to those who love you the most and whom you love the most.

This is how I feel these days. My friends are there and I cannot fault them in the least. They know exactly what to do, what to say, when to check in and how to distract me or cheer me up. It’s actually kind of scary how they know what’s in my head. (I can only hope to be as in tune with them). The fact is, however, that if I say “OPSEC” or “blackout” or “NCO” or even “down-range”, they all are clueless.

When I say I miss my husband, it’s because he’s half the world away, and I won’t see him for another 9 months … not because he’s in the next state working until the weekend.

And this is not to say that wife is not justified in missing her husband whom she saw yesterday… not at all. In fact, I’ll tell you a secret: envy is what fuels my bitch-response – I WISH my husband was in the next state working until weekend. I really do.

Perspective… it changes everything … and I find as I grow older and wiser that it isn’t so much the feeling that makes the horror story, but the expression of such without an understanding of the perspective. So yes, I squelched my bitch-response because I was able to stop and think about the 2 perspectives. They are newly married and the next state is the most separation they have ever had to endure – not a THING wrong with that… so long as you can realize that for me, that would be heaven right about now – being separated by state lines instead of multiple time zones.

And yes – on this day, which marks our second wedding anniversary … I miss my husband.

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Self-interest and self-centeredness turned around by introspection

Camille — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 03:48:02 +0000

Today was my birthday. I don’t usually like telling people, and I get all blushy and stuff when I get that kind of attention. My Facebook page was aglow today. It makes me uncomfortable, but even if I hide my birthday, someone who already knows it will say something and then the whole world will know.

It was a damned good thing Mom and Dad were here though because I started out the day weepy. Hubby called first thing (of course) and that started me off. It’s really tough, you know, this separation. It’s not like when we were separated back in the early days – me in Jamaica and he here. Then, when it got too tough to bear, we’d work out some finance magic, I’d hop a plane and we’d have a week or 2 of glorious togetherness. This separation … is solidly concrete. There will be no more visits period until he returns at the end of his tour, and the best communication we have is a half-hearted internet connection to talk over.

I know – some people don’t even have that, and I get that … but there is always something or someone worse off … and right now I am talking about us.

It is in the midst of this emotion that I discovered these things:

an ex (who had before now stayed conspicuously silent) has friended me on Facebook and sent me a Happy Birthday message
a friend from days of old made contact – something I have been vindictively awaiting (somewhat in vain, I had begun to think) – and made contact in a way that makes me wonder just how genuine the sentiment is. (and by the way, now that it has happened, I wonder if I really wanted it to have happened at all – think I preferred the silence)
a cyber stalker lifted it’s ugly head and stuck out it’s tongue

The day before yesterday was the kicker though – while the favour asked of me is not beyond the realm of being neighbourly, this particular situation is fraught with uneasiness on my part. On top of everything else, the requesting party seemed to have completely forgotten that the request being made was going to be more than inconvenient. I think the party in question really just couldn’t see beyond their own needs.

Which brings me to the subject of today’s post.

The more I live in this world, and in particular this country, the more I realize just how much people are self-centered and completely oblivious of others and their circumstances. I am stunned to discover just how much people who say they are your friends really don’t give a damn about whether you live or die. This is a malady that has followed me from childhood. People never seem to hear me unless I scream and curse and yell.

I have said the same things so many times to so many people that I have asked my husband on many the occasion whether he thought I was so mild-mannered as to be ignored. Apparently, I am. People tend not to take a soft-spoken person too seriously.

There is one thing I know now, though. There is a point beyond which I don’t appreciate being pushed. Unfortunately, because people tend to pay no attention to me, when I lose my temper, it is as if there was no warning given of impending explosives. Since everything I say up to that point is summarily ignored, my angst, anger and rage even, is seen to “come out of nowhere”. I have one thing to say to all those people – a pressure cooker gives plenty of warning before it blows it’s top – trust me, there was plenty of warning from me before I blew my top too, if only you had been interested enough to have listened to the signals and made the flame adjustments.

No great loss.

Tonight, I am so tired every inch of my body aches, but I sit here and realize that QUALITY is ALWAYS better than quantity. From this moment onward, I am going to have to recognize the quality in some people and act accordingly. It’s not about how *I* feel about someone, but how they respond to me and make their feelings known. It’s not about what is said, it is what is unsaid between friends that matters. It’s not about appearances and tangible gifts, but the gifts of caring, concern, attentiveness and genuine interest. That’s the substance of true friendship – and I won’t be compromising again any time soon.

It seems compromising for reasons that have nothing to do with me is something I have done WAY too often in my past and I seem to keep making the same mistakes … “everybody is doing it and it’s expected” have got to stop being my major reasons for putting myself out there … I keep getting burned. I think maybe it’s time I stop attempting to accumulate friends for obscure reasons and instead focus on maintaining the ones I have, while keeping an eye out for the other like-minded out there. Just because she’s another army wife doesn’t mean we HAVE to be friends – know what I mean? (abstract reference, folks, I mean no one in particular with that reference)

My parents are spoiling me though – it feels damned good after all this time to be spoiled like this. I had forgotten what it was like to be spoiled by them and while before I was resistant because it felt so stifling and suffocating, I am a pig in shit now, sitting back and allowing them to spoil me. It is a welcome and heart-warming change. And after these last 4 months, I think I damn well deserve it. Don’t you?

…

And on that note, the birthday presents…

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Photography forays

Camille — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 12:31:42 +0000

Storm,
originally uploaded by ~fyrfli~.

Thanks a very good friend, BorderFX and Aperture is making me look like a bonafide amateur photographer again.

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Review: The Alchemyst

Camille — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 22:48:14 +0000

The Alchemyst by Michael Scott
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A surprising and refreshing view of magic and the ever prevailing fight of good against evil.

Mr. Scott tells us that the main characters in this, the first in the series, and indeed some of the events he writes about, are indeed non-fictional. It makes me wonder just how much of this genre is imagination and how much is embellished fact.

I have to admit to having to use my own imagination to spruce up the imagery, but it is the first in the series, and the plot and story are intriguing enough for me to say I really like it and look forward to the next volumes in the series.

I highly recommend this to any lover of mysticism, magic and thrilling fantasy.

View all my reviews >>

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Walking and my history with exercise

Camille — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 21:13:35 +0000

I was talking to a friend of mine today. She called to check up on me because I kind of disappeared yesterday. I was taking it very easy because of the headache and the tiredness and after talking to Mom I just finished up a couple episodes of Smallville (remind me to wax poetic about that series, will ya?) and went straight to bed – did not pass go, did not collect $200.

I’d had a good morning … I was up a few minutes before my alarm and feeling pretty good considering. I got into my walking clothes, donned my weights, slipped on my ipod and headed out. Humidity was relatively low, and so I was able to manage a brisk walk. At first, my chest felt like I might not be able to make the whole 2 blocks, but I pushed myself knowing I could do it and WOULD do it. To cut a long story short, I did damned well considering I’ve been either passed out or headachy for about 4 days straight.

And so my friend and I are talking about hypertension, and the causes .. medications, history of hypertension and the negroid race … and then we branch off into exercise and heart rates.

Despite having been walking with a 1lb weight at each wrist and a 5lb weight on each ankle since I started walking, I wasn’t quite sure I was doing the right thing. She suggest that distance would be better for me to start. Well, since I know I can’t do distance, I didn’t think it made much of a difference whether I had the weights on or not. In fact, since I know I can’t do distance, the 2 blocks I CAN walk right now might work my lungs a little bit, but they would not work my arm or leg muscles.

Which kind of slung me down memory lane.

I was 12 years old when the doctor wrote me a permanent excuse from running PE (or PT) at school. “Cross-country” runs had me wheezing within the first 5 minutes of the run. Teachers were alarmed, Mom was scared and I was in pain. Whilst the doc could find no trace of asthma and since this phenomenon turned up during running, he forbade me to do long distance running from now until evermore. PE for me was reduced to field (long jump, etc), swimming and games (netball, etc). A year later I gave them all up because even though I wasn’t wheezing, my chest was still quite uncomfortable and besides, what was a 80lb weakling like me going to do with exercise anyway? It’s not like I needed to lose weight.

I got lazier over the years – spoilt by my perfect metabolism. I’d eat and eat and eat and eat and not put on any extra pounds; but if I got sick and stopped eating – boom – there goes the last 10lbs I worked HARD to put back on after the last bout of non-eating. When I hit college, after being there a good year, I finally hit the 100lb mark and celebrated in fine style with alcohol and cigarettes.

It wasn’t until I hit my late 20s that I noticed that things started to change. And now … well, now all I have to do is LOOK at an oreo cookie and BOOM there’s an extra 2lbs on my face. Just like that.

There are many reasons for this – my body has never been used to being active, in Jamaica I sweated like a pig every day all day, the food there is FAR healthier, I moved around more being that I worked outside the home. It was the move to the United States that caused the sudden growth spurt. I kid you now, I gained 30lbs in about a 3 month stretch and that was during the first winter months up here.

So here I am trying to teach my body how to be active and exercise. It’s going to be a long uphill battle, but I am stoked. I am going to get fit if it KILLS me. Hopefully, I’ll even get to a point where I can run a mile or 2 instead of pathetically walking 2 residential blocks.

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Prehypertension and genetics

Camille — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 04:30:00 +0000

I saw my doctor last week. I had stopped taking my meds because they made me feel REALLY ill and I got some hair-brained idea that my calcium levels were too low. I substituted calcium tablets for my meds and while I was ok for the period, I am beginning to think that was just luck… or just me being so happy to have the hubby home on R&R that I completely ignored how I felt.

As it turns out, my calcium levels were perfectly fine. And being off my meds (and not watching my numbers) was a bad deal. Essentially I was right back where I started. And it was oh so clear this weekend – I spent most of it feeling exhausted and sleeping and having a headache for the most part.

The doctor was very angry with me. I could see her wanting to tell me some choice words whilst I sit and pathetically told her why I thought her degree meant nothing and MY self-diagnosis was more spot on. It’s times like those that doctors want to tell their patients some senior curses. In fact, I know one doctor who used to lament the patients who were a little too know-it-all for comfort.

I have become one of those whom I ridicule. Ha!

In any case, the fact is I hated the pills she had me taking – they made me ill. She put me back on the pills that helped me last year. So … win-win – yea?

The only thing is … I still feel ill – still sleeping like I’ve never slept, or not sleeping at all – wide-eyed insomnia that cripples and a headache the size of the state of Texas to go along with it all. It’s like a freakishly bad cocktail from hell.

What’s worse – I need to get over it already – my parents come for a visit in a week’s time. I’ve got TONS to do before then… I don’t have time to be sick. I am sick of feeling icky anyway …

Maybe I should just take my meds, eh? Yea? That might help.

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