nakedjen

Forget Taylor Hicks. Peter Bradley Adams is MY Alabama Idol!

One of the tenets of good improvisational theatre is for the players to be open and willing to say "YES".  I am not really an improvisational player, however, I did take a stab at it recently with DearSweetDave who is in the process of becoming more of an improvisational player than he has been in the past.  The experience for me was definitely eye-opening and perhaps even a little bit scary.  It is well known around these parts that I am, if nothing else, a perfectionist.  I like to get all A's.  I like to win blue ribbons.  I like to come in first and be the absolute best that I can possibly be.  Improvisational theatre makes being first and best and getting all A's very difficult.  Very difficult, indeed.  Because it's not about YOU.  It's about you supporting all the other people who are there on stage with you.  It's about letting go of being YOU and being a part of the bigger whole.  And it's most certainly about being open to all the possibilities that the WHOLE presents.  It's about saying YES.

At least that's the biggest lesson I learned from my first stab at improvisational theatre a few weeks ago.  Being open and saying YES.  I've been trying to apply that more and more in my every day life.  Especially in my marriage to and with DearSweetDave.  One of the things that DearSweetDave wishes for our marriage is that we were more playful.  I admit that my own desire to win and be first and get all A's can make things awfully serious around these parts a lot of the time.  Perfection does not come without emotional sacrifice.  But I do not have to be perfect all of the time, now, do I?  No, certainly not.  In fact, my own perfectionist sensibilities are perhaps what are standing in the way of my own ultimate happiness.  Time to rethink the necessity of getting all A's.  Time to learn to just say "YES!"

Late last week DearSweetDave sent me a link for a house concert Sunday night in Sunnyvale.  He asked me if I wanted to go?  Without even clicking the link or thinking about it, I just hit the reply button and said, "YES!"  I could have just signed myself up for crickets rubbing their legs together to play chamber music, but I didn't care.  I had said, "YES!" and DearSweetDave and I had a date for something fun.

The whole day turned out to be quite lovely.  We spent the early part of it in San Francisco.  We had lunch in the Haight with two imaginary friends of mine from the Internet and DearSweetDave even surprised me by finding and buying a CD at Virgin records that I have been wanting for a very long time.  He isn't just called DearSweetDave for nothing, you know?  We cruised back down 101 to Redwood City and hit their Whole Foods for dinner.  Why oh why can we not have Whole Foods in Santa Cruz?  Such choices!  Such yummy things!  We stuffed ourselves, piled back in the car and headed for Sunnyvale.  DearSweetDave was just a tad worried that we would be late and not get good seats, but we arrived exactly on time.  Go us!  And then walked in to quite an intimate setting.  This guy truly was putting on a house concert in his living room. 

The concert itself was just, well, amazing.  You can not beat the intimacy provided by a 10 x 10 living room.  Peter Bradley Adams played two sets.  And talked to us about how it was so difficult for him to play when he could actually see our faces and look at our eyes.  He sang nearly all the songs on his new album, which we bought.  It's really good and currently has permanent residence in the dog transport vehicle.  Buddha and Stella are becoming huge fans!  One thing I didn't realize when I said "yes" is that I was already sort of familiar with Peter.  He was one half of the band EastMountainSouth which I had seen open for Tracy Chapman a few summers ago.  I had really loved their harmonies and their songs when I saw them.   So I suppose in one aspect I was a bit predisposed to love him.   

Peter can definitely sing.  He can also definitely write songs.  And he can make you feel all warm and fuzzy while singing those songs that he writes.  Especially when you're sitting not a foot from him on a cozy couch in some guy's living room in Sunnyvale.  His songs take you on a journey you didn't even know you wanted to take.  But you hold on, almost breathlessly, waitingwaitingwaiting while he sings those next notes carrying you ever closer to a place deep inside your own heart that you knew existed but you weren't quite sure how to reach.  Really, it's quite a trip.  It wasn't until after the show that I learned that he was a classically trained pianist and that he was from Alabama.  I wonder where his accent went?  Because he really didn't have one.  At all. 

Peter is touring the country over the next couple months.  If he's coming anywhere near you, I highly recommend that you go out and give him a listen.  It won't be a waste of your time.  Just say "Yes!", keep yourself open to the possibilities and be ready for a journey you didn't know you really wanted to take.

Ariel Gore Trumps NakedJen

I received the following email this morning:

Awwww, I was in the same room as you and didn't know you were there. I was too enraptured by Ariel-- she was on that night, wow. I would have liked to have noticed you too. I have always wanted to run into you in town and be like, there's nakedjen. That was the best book reading ever, I think, or I would have looked around more.

 

Here is a picture of my friend Christina and me with Ariel. C & I actually met on the hipmama boards in 1999. We have been catching Ariel at many readings and talks since then... http://www.flickr.com/photos/nayz/149094367/

And here is my reply to this kind email:

n...i took that picture!  of the three of you.  i was the one standing behind you wonderful women in line waiting to get my book signed and purchase my t-shirt.

har!

how funny is that?  you have a photo that was actually taken by nakedjen.  and ariel asked me why i was wearing my clothes?! but at that point, you two had moved on to check out the "puppets" that were made from manila folders.

next time, we'll be sure to give each other proper hugs.  but yes, ariel was absolutely fabulous that night.  and the book has been a joy to read.

xoxo,

nakedjen

I do believe that whatever fame I thought I might have garnered from all that nakedness on this blog is just a bunch of fluff that resides in my head.  Clearly, I am no more recognizable than the girl standing behind you in the check out line. 

And that is perfectly okay.

So That I May Not Cause Suffering

The two of us had dated briefly when Tony first moved in to the student house, but our kisses always felt awkward.  The sex was sweet, but passionless.  When he finally said, "I'm attracted to you, Frankka, but I don't think it's romantic," I had to agree.  Now he spoke of lucid dreams and low-impact living.  He'd recently quit his job, didn't want to look for another.  He'd taken a vow not to cause suffering.  Seems simple enough:  So That I May Not Cause Suffering.  And at first it had been something simple.  His goal was to contain his habitual mean streak, the little comments that passed for humor but were intended to belittle:  Nice shirt.  Ha, ha.  You can't really like that band.  Ha, ha.  You're not that fat.  Ha, ha.  I guess you haven't read Ginsburg.  Simple, but pretty soon just containing his mean streak hardly seemed enough.  He learned to hold his tongue when he wanted to use words to wound, but as soon as he'd gotten a handle on that, other ways in which he caused suffering presented themselves.  He had to stop eating meat, of course.  Couldn't even kill a spider.  He had to close his bank accounts.  His savings were being invested in unjust enterprises all over the world.  He stopped buying clothes made in sweatshops.  He'd never realized how hard itw as to find a T-shirt that hadn't been dyed or sewn in Thailand or Honduras.  He couldn't keep his job at the flower stand-- workers in Ecuador were being poisoned to havest those gorgeous, scentless roses.  He had to convert his little diesel hatchback to run on grease because he saw the blood of innocents flowing from every gas pump.  So That I May No Cause Suffering.  Within a month, Tony had become just another organic-cotton-wearing unemployed vegetarian street musician who couldn't pay the rent on his six-foot-by-six-foot walk-in closet-turned-bedroom three blocks from the beach in Santa Cruz, California. 

So here's Tony.  He doesn't ask anything of this world beyond sustenance.  All he wants is to honor this vow:  So That I May Not Cause Suffering.

Fairly traded coffee:  $10.99/lb.
Closet of a room in the student house:  $515/mo.
Sweatshop-free organic cotton apparel: $41/outfit
Share of utilities even though he uses almost no electricity: $34/mo.
Food bill at the co-op: $65/mo.
Available jobs for a man without a college degree who refuses to cause suffering:  0

- The Traveling Death and Resurrection Show

Well, if that doesn't describe nearly every person I know in Santa Cruz, myself included, I don't know what does.  Honestly, Ariel Gore, with that sweet little bit of prose, has just nailed more than half the folks I know and love oh so dearly in this town.  The folks I am very proud to call my friends.

My hippest of hip next-door neighbor, Katherine, who seems to have her finger on the pulse of absolutely everything that is more than cool, invited me to join her tonight for Ariel's book reading and performance at our local independent bookshop.  I couldn't say no.  I had to say yes.  If Katherine is going, I know it is something I certainly do not want to miss.

And I was not disappointed.  I swooned over her lovely pink tutu.  A pink tutu!  She was my comrade from the very start.  Not only was she waxing poetic about the very inhabitants who make Santa Cruz Santa Cruz, but she was doing it in a pink tutu!  With a puppet show!  And musicians!  It was one of the best book readings I have ever attended.  She was just so very real, so unpretentious, so how veryveryvery much how I would hope I would be if I ever dared to get the chance to have a novel of my own to read to a rapt audience.  Did I mention the pink tutu?  Perfection.

People of Los Angeles.  I know that you're out there.  I know that you're reading.  Get thee to Book Soup at 8818 Sunset Boulevard on Friday evening.  That's TONIGHT.  It's also NakedFriday, so go and get Naked.  Tell Ariel that Nakedjen sent you.  She will be expecting you.  And she'll love to see you in all your naked glory! 

I'm serious.  What else do you have to do tonight?  Do whatever else after.  Just go and see this very fun show!

Come Fly With Me

Where do you want to go today?  Or tomorrow?  Or next week?  What's your dream vacation? 

I ask, because it occurs to me that you may not actually know that I am a bonafide travel agent and I can make your travel dreams come true. 

Really, I'm not making this up.  It's not the morphine talking.  I can send you on a trip without requiring you to take the blue pill or the red pill or even the white pill like Alice. 

All I actually need to send you on a cruise to Alaska or a walking tour of the Himalayas or to a scuba and surf adventure in the Cook Islands is your grandest idea and your credit card.

Then just leave it all to me and before you can say NakedJen is a Travel Agent, I'll have your tickets booked, your hotel reserved, your bags packed and a limo standing by to whisk you to the airport.

It's that easy.

Now, you just have to decide where it is you'd like to go. 

I know that I've actually been my own best customer lately booking plane tickets and travel arrangements for my trip to Europe in August.  But did you know that I'm also headed to Maui very soon for the Maui Film Festival.  Well, truthfully, not just the Maui Film Festival.  I'm actually really and truly going to Maui to properly celebrate NeverNakedBeth's 40th birthday.  I am trying to ignore the fact that it is her 40th birthday.  Or perhaps I shall just decide that now that she's actually 40, she's the oldest sister.  That's now her cross to bear (and since she's Mormon, she can bear it better than I can anyway) and I'll just slip back into the number 2 position.  I can never be the YOUNGEST sister.  HalfNakedRobin will never, under any circumstances, give up that position.  But I bet NeverNakedBeth won't mind being the OLDEST sister.  She's always been the more responsible one and she's the one with the kids.  Better for her to be the one in charge.

Remember, folks, if you've got a yearn to go some where fun.  Or just to New Jersey (har!), shoot me an email at nakedjen at gmail dot com.  I would be more than happy to make your travel wishes come true.

Tripping Through The ER

i'm going to make this really quick because i really should be in bed. major props to my nurse at the ER last night, kim. i feel like i should send her a gift of some sort or something. she was the best ever and such a wonderful advocate for me and my care. she totally got me. and it was great.

so if you haven't guessed already, i went to the ER last night. i first called urgent care, who told me that i really should just go to the ER since they were not sure they could do any more for me anyway.  they also told me that they didn't believe the ER was too busy and that i should hurry over there so i wouldn't have to wait.  the ER was, in fact, not very busy. i think i spent longer in "check in" than i did waiting.  and i was back in a room and naked before i even realized what was happening. kim, fabulous kim, immediately got me comfortable and turned out the bright lights and promised she'd do everything in the dark (which she did!). and then she started asking me all kinds of questions. and she paid attention. by the time  doctor petersen came in he was completely informed. and he had a plan.

first a cat scan to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong. then if it was normal, we'd proceed with an intravenous drug cocktail to see if we could get both the nausea and the pain to subside.

the cat scan was so different from what i remember. i haven't had a cat scan in a veryveryvery long time because i always get MRI's, but it was so quick. and easy. no taping my chin to the table to keep me from wiggling!  no screaming at me to PLEASE HOLD STILL.  just zipzipzip.  and we were done.  i mentioned to the radiologist how simple it all seemed and he told me he saved the duct tape and screaming for the friday night drunks.  this was only monday!  ah, monday.  i should have known.  the good news?  actually the very best news?  it was normal. which is a lovely thing. really. i told kim that with that news i knew my head was going to get better because i could relax and know that nothing more serious was wrong. that just the relief from knowing my head was okay would make the pain go away.

but kim and dr. petersen wanted to make the pain go away anyway. the doctor wanted to give me a mixture of demerol and some other drugs, but i actually refused this combination because demerol lowers the threshold for seizure patients and i didn't want to mess with that. i explained that the long journey back from a grand mal seizure was far worse than any pain i was currently experiencing and i just didn't even want to go there.  he actually didn't know that and was surprised when i told him. he looked it up, came back, and said, "nakedjen, you're absolutely right. okay, let's figure something else out." so instead he decided to try a morphine cocktail.

i told kim that we needed to start with a pediatric dose. like for an infant. that she needed to really think of me as an alien from another planet.  that what works on everyone else was going to possibly kill me.  i am just that sensitive.  and she agreed. so i got like .25 microdots or something. seriously. you couldn't even see the drugs in the syringe. and i was INSTANTLY flying. good lord. outer space, ET is coming home. it was intense.

waywayway back when in the last century before my brain surgery, i used to have something of a drug problem. i did a lot of drugs. pretty much any drug you can think of, with the exception of heroin, i did. and the only reason i didn't do heroin was because it involved needles AND my uncle was a heroin junkie and i thought...heroin destroys lives! of course i was so drugged out i didn't bother to think that perhaps all the other things i was putting into my body destroyed lives, as well. i just knew i wasn't doing heroin, so i wasn't going to be an addict. oh such smart thinking!  not.at.all. 

last night when the morphine hit, it was like a major trip down memory lane. i remembered that mellow, happy feeling. it was almost scary to me how quickly the good feeling returned. i was lying there thinking, "wow, i like this. this feels really good." and i found myself remembering how i used to spend my days kind of floating through life without really FEELING life or experiencing it. but the most interesting thing was that the pain in my head did not go away. it was still there despite that happy mellow no pain i'll just float through life feeling every where else in my body.

so they decided they had to give me another dose. and this went on, pediatric dose after pediatric dose, for hours. eventually the pain in my head did start to subside. in baby increments it went from a 10 down to a 4. and they were ready to give me yet another dose when i told them i'd rather go home and go to bed. dearsweetdave had come to the hospital and i was just ready to please go home.

there was another moment that totally cracked dearsweetdave up. they had just dosed me again, and i turned and looked at him and very seriously said, "we should do a naked picture!" and he just couldn't stop laughing. and i said, "i'm serious! we should do one. this would make a great naked picture. i'm naked under this damn hospital gown. let's do one!"

but we didn't. however, i told him i was definitely going to blog about it. and tell my nakedjen readers how i was gorked out of my head yet still was thinking about all of you and my naked friday pictures. of course, then i also was thinking that it wasn't just good enough to be naked in the hospital bed with my IV. i had to go out and stand at the counter in the emergency room and request a chart. or the ambulance bay directing traffic. and i'm sure if i had done that it would have been my ticket to the psychiatric ward, instead. so yeah. probably a good thing that i just stayed put and only THOUGHT about doing the naked picture.

i came home and crashed. got up at 9:00 this morning and was totally and completely hung over. worst hung over head ache of my life. a good reminder of why i do not do drugs of any kind anymore. ugh. but my other head ache was gone. and i knew if i just drank a lot of water and nursed my hangover head ache, i'd be okay.

i haven't gotten it to go completely away yet. of course, i need to just go back to bed. which is where i'm headed. i've drunk gallons of smart water. it's hot here today. i need to find our big ass fan and cool the house down. hard to sleep when it's so hot and sunny.

but yeah. i'm going to be okay. i'm going to see my internist tomorrow just for a follow-up (and i think i'll talk to her about my current depression woes, as well) and i'm on the hunt for a new neurologist. i'm looking at stanford. it's not exactly convenient, but when i first got epilepsy, that's where i went and they are all very good at stanford and i'd like to just become a part of their neurology center so if someone leaves, i can just go to someone else rather than have to start all over again.

we'll see.

thanks to all of you for all your love and concern.  i am okay.  i just have a head that doesn't like to always cooperate!

The Best Other Mother

Since she was two years old and came barreling into my life, I have always been her other mother.  And today I was quite surprised to get a phone message from her wishing me a happy mother's day.  Not only that, but she thanked me for everything I have been to her in her life.  She told me I was and always will be her best other mother.  She said she hoped I was spending a wonderful morning enjoying what is an absolute PERFECT Santa Cruz day with Buddha and Stella.  I was doing exactly that. 

I won't lie.  Her phone message made me cry.

Pilar is one of my very best friends, and I do love her more than I can possibly express.  Though I'm not her birth mother, I do feel as if I am her mother.  She owns a very large part of my heart and my soul.  I can't imagine what my life would be without her as a part of it.  What makes me happiest, I think, is that she still wants me to be such a large part of her life.

I still make her birthday cake every year.  If it's important, she makes sure I know about it.  I may not live with her anymore, but I'm still veryveryvery much a part of her life.

I don't often think of myself as a mother.  But I suppose that I am. 

Happy Mother's Day to all you fabulous other mothers out there.  I think it's very important that we all remember that we need to honor our mothers every day, not just this Hallmark holiday, because without our mothers, we would, indeed, not even be here. 

Head Still Aches, Part 2

so my head. oh lord my head. it's not better. it's not worse, which i think is a good thing. but the fact that it is not better is what worries me most. the demerol is a joke. not taking that stuff any more. ick. it's counter-indicated for people with seizures anyway so i'm not sure why it's a good idea. but yeah, it hasn't done a thing other than to make my entire head and face numb and that's no good. i took 1/8 of a tablet. 1/8.  the bottle said take 1-2 tablets 4 times a day.  i'd be comatose if i did that.  1/8 made me completely numb.  but the pain didn't subside in the least.  so yeah, not bothering with pharmaceuticals any more.  they just don't work for me.

i got a massage yesterday. a medical massage. szuszi worked on just my head and shoulders and neck for the entire time. and it seemed to help a bit, but it didn't do the trick. this morning i got more acupuncture. i absolutely positively LOVE my acupuncturist. she's amazing. and the points she chose today hurt like a bitch! ouchouchouch. she was doing points for my gallbladder meridian. she did this because the channel of my pain manifestation is actually the gallbladder meridian. interesting, huh? and boy oh boy did those points hurt. they were all tender to just even touch not to mention stick with needles. but stick them she did and then she let me rest. and let the needles do their magic. afterwards i got a massage on my head and feet (so luxurious), but i swear everything was so tender i am beginning to believe that whatever is wrong is simply manifesting in my left temple, but actually lies somewhere deep within my body.

meanwhile, on my shelf in my tea workshop, i have a tincture i've been making for the last two months that is SPECIFICALLY for head aches. doh! i completely forgot that it was even there. my own concoction. wouldn't it be interesting if that is what made me feel better? if somehow the universe conspired with me to make this particular formula all those months ago so that when my own head was hurting i'd have it sitting there available to use? stranger things have happened.

perhaps i can predict the future after all!  har!

i promise to keep you all updated and i want to thank each and every single one of you who are sending me love and prayers and healing energy.  i know they work!  i will get better.  you all are such a huge loving wonderful force in my life. 

i am so very blessed to have each and every one of you in my life.

thank you. thank you. thank you.

Urgent Care in Search of Answers

I suppose that to really understand the gravity of my situation, you really need to know that long and involved story of my brain surgery and also my epilepsy.  That is a story that I haven't really told the Internet, yet.  I want to tell the Internet that story, but it is very long, very involved and, well, I just really haven't quite felt up to the task of writing it all out.  Plus, DearSweetDave keeps insisting that I should write it as a book.  A book.  When I tell him that I don't believe there is really anyone on this planet that would be interested in purchasing such a book, he tells me that it's quite a compelling story and that really there's more than just one person who might want to purchase it.

All that said, I haven't shared the story now, have I?  I'm also not going to share it now.  Because my head hurts far too much to spend time writing all about that.  What I am going to tell you is that I spent a large part of my day today at Urgent Care.  Okay, let's back up.

I am, as you know, a head case.  At least that much you do know.  I am a migraine patient (though I haven't had a really bad migraine in manymanymany years) and I also have epilepsy.  I had brain surgery back in 1989.  Goodness, that's nearly 20 years ago.  Anyway, because of all of that, I'm quite sensitive to things going on in my head.  Especially pain in my head.  Because instead of it being just another headache, unfortunately in my case, it could mean that something is not quite as it should be.

Five days ago I started having these shooting pains that start at the base of my neck and go up over the top of my head and end in my left temple.  It's like a lightening bolt of pain, quickquickquick, but the pain in my temple is like an ice pick being driven in at full force.  Yowza does it hurt.  However, it's not consistent nor is it constant.  And it doesn't feel at all like a migraine. 

On top of that yesterday I finally had a broken filling fixed in my mouth.  I've been putting that off for over 18 months, because I am allergic to Novocaine and just can not stand having the dentist do ANYTHING to my teeth.  But I was told at my last cleaning that bacteria was really starting to accumulate in the area of the broken filling and I was going to have BIGGER PROBLEMS if I didn't get it fixed.  So I went.  And even though I protested and begged the dentist not to use Novocaine, he did, and of course I got very sick.  I left the office shaking like a meth addict in need of a big hit and then spent the entire afternoon vomiting.  Vomitvomitvomit all over the Del Mar theatre where I was still working the Santa Cruz Film Festival.  Oh it was just LOVELY! 

So, yeah.  Vomit and lightening bolts to my temple.  I was just the picture of vitality! 

Last night I had an acupuncture appointment because I am now officially an acupuncture addict and convinced that tortuous needles stuck in inopportune places are my only salvation.  If there were a God of Acupuncture, I would certainly build a huge temple in his honor.  When I went, I told them about my adventures at the dentist and the lightening bolt in my head.  They, those good people, do happen to know the whole brain surgery epilepsy migraine story (because they've had LOTS OF TIME to sit and listen) and so they were immediately quite concerned.  Since one of the folks there is actually an MD, she suggested that I might also want to go to Urgent Care just to be sure that everything was okay. 

I figured I'd let the acupuncture folks do their magic and see how I felt in the morning.  I'd been living this way for four days.  Why rush things, you know?  Plus, I always respond so very well to acupuncture.  It works for me.  It might fix the problem with my head and then I wouldn't need to go to Urgent Care.

I woke up this morning nauseous and in much more pain.  The lightening bolts were coming far faster and more furious than they had the previous four days.  OuchOuchOuch!  My head was just not happy.  Not happy at all.

So, I resigned myself to the fact that I needed to actually go to Urgent Care.  But because I am me, I planned my day around my Urgent Care visit.  First, I had to take the dogs for their walk on the beach.  I don't care how bad I felt, the dogs needed their exercise.  Then, I needed to get a few tea orders shipped.  I know, those orders could have waited.  But people are waiting for their Fertilitea!  And what if something was really wrong with my head?  I wanted to be sure the orders were actually delivered in a timely fashion.   So I did that.  Then, of course, I needed to shower.  And dress nicely.  Because goodness knows I'm going to Urgent Care.   And I don't want to go there all smelly and covered in beach sand (even though I go to my acupuncture appointments exactly like that...smelly and covered in beach sand...sometimes I'm even SOAKING WET from playing in the ocean with the dogs), I wanted to look respectable.  (I know that sentence is making NakedMom laugh out loud.  Because she's ALWAYS encouraging me to "Please look respectable" and I think nine times out of ten I embarrass her with my version of respectable.  NakedMom, today I actually wore a skirt!  And a clean shirt.  And sandals.  You would have been so proud!  Happy Mother's Day!). 

I finally made my way to Urgent Care once I was clean and respectable and had the dogs happy in their crates with peanut butter bones.  I will say this about Urgent Care in Santa Cruz.  They are all so very nice.  Really.  Some of the nicest folks work there.  They must all take happy pills all the time because I've never been there and had to deal with even one person who wasn't just plain happy.  I got checked in quickly and was actually seen fairly quickly as well.   

And then we hit a snag.  Because I am me, NakedJen, I didn't fit in any of the boxes.  As always.  I just never fit in any of the boxes.  I am not a box person.  They need daisies for me or something.  Anything, but a box.  The doctor was quite perplexed.  I told him straight away that I would have gone to see my own neurologist instead of even bothering Urgent Care with my weird and unsolvable conundrum, but my beloved neurologist has closed up shop and moved to Portland.  This alone has me in a bit of a tizzy.  I've had my neurologist since my brain surgery.  It was her first year in neurology.  We've grown up together.  She's really allowed me to manage my own care and I'm quite perplexed about starting over with a new neurologist.  I mean, let's face it, I am not an easy patient.  Not by a long shot. 

Anyway, the doctor was going through his list of possibilities, but for each and every one I was presenting in a very a-typical manner.  I told him this was actually VERY TYPICAL for me.  If it was a-typical, it was NakedJen.  I told him my file at the neurologist's office was over 3 inches thick and full of all kinds of a-typical information. 

He decided that he should run some blood tests to rule out some pretty serious possibilities.  He laughed out loud when he asked me what my pain killer of choice was.  My answer?  Bayer Aspirin.  He said I was obviously not here fishing for a prescription.  But he also decided that I should have a prescription for Demerol because he wasn't absolutely sure that what I was experiencing wasn't just a very odd migraine and perhaps a strong pain killer might just kick it.  I told him that I needed a CHILD'S DOSE of Demerol because I am uber-sensitive to any kind of pharmaceutical.  I told him if there was some remote side effect that only 1 in 1 million people will get, I will get it.  I'm not sure if he truly believed me, but he told me I could cut the pills in quarters if it would make me feel better.  Believe me, I'm going to do exactly that.

So that was at 5:00.  Now it's 11:00 and my head?  Hurting far worse than it was at 5:00.  I'm nauseous, and my head is just poundpoundpounding.  The left temple is actually sensitive to the touch.  So it's not just inside, but it actually hurts outside, too.  So odd.  The doctor was supposed to call me tonight with the results of my blood work, but he never did.  So I will call him tomorrow morning and see what is up.  Plus, if I'm not feeling better, he told me to most definitely come back.

I will give him props, though.  He never dismissed me as just another woman with a headache.  He commended me for the way that I manage my epilepsy and he also commended me for being so knowledgeable about my own health and how best to manage my own care.  Well, yeah.  I have to be.  I have a lifetime of bad medicine that has taught me that the only way I'm going to be well is if I take full responsibility for it.

Anyway, I'm now going to bed.  If I can.  I suppose the Demerol will make me sleep.  Right?  I just hope it doesn't make me comatose.  I have so much stuff I have to do tomorrow.  Plus, the puppies need their walk on the beach!

How To Make Me Giggle

Be Wendee.  And send the following to me:

Let me tell you a little story about a girl named Jen,
she likes to get naked in any town she's in.
She strips right down and stands there real proud,
with friends like me hollerin' real loud.
naked girl,   best friend,   goddess.

Well,   the first thing you know,   little Jen is gettin' crazy
I think about joining,   but am just too lazy
She yells "naked is beautiful and the only way to be"
Well you better watch out soon you'll be makin' room for me!
boobies,   that is,   thighs and rumps

Well,   then it's time for her to jump back in to her clothes
You don't want them folks walkin' by thinkin' you're a ho
but beautiful and confident is the only way to be
and without a doubt that's you DEFINITELY
Nakedgirl,   that is,   relax some,   take your clothes off.

Y'all come back now,   hear?

2006 Santa Cruz Film Festival - Collecting the Consciousness

The Fifth Annual Santa Cruz Film Festival started on Friday and as you can see I've been hard at work as one of the many volunteers that helps to make the festival possible.  Really, the festival is made possible by a kick-ass woman named Jane Sullivan and some other really amazing folks who make up the Board of Directors.  But they like to thank us, a lot, for doing what we do and remind us that they couldn't have this festival without us. 

Anyway, the festival this year has some very cool movies.  Last night there was an interesting look at Burning Man.  Since I've never actually been to Burning Man (it's true!), I found that film fascinating because you hear all these stories about it.  I know that movie was just a smidgen of a crumb of a taste of what you would really and truly find if you made the journey to Black Rock City.  Will I make that journey?  I'm not sure.  After seeing the movie last night, all I could think about was water.  And how veryveryvery much I would have to bring with me in order to survive.  We all know how I am about water.  And how sensitive my constitution has become.  All that dust.  All that heat.  The Nevada desert in August.  I'm just not sure I can handle it. 

I saw another very cool movie today (you see, volunteers actually get to see movies as well as work the festival) called Last Stop for Paul.  It was a best friends grand adventure travelogue movie and I really liked it.  It made me wish I could find someone, anyone, to follow me around for my adventure to Scandinavia this summer.  Or had someone along last year for the Nakedjen Across America tour.  Funny stuff just seems to happen to me when I travel.  It would be fun to have it documented. 

Today, when the lovely Simone took this picture of me while we were volunteering there just happened to be a film maker with his movie camera standing nearby.  And when I got naked, he filmed it.  And then he talked to me all about Nakedjen!  And why I do this.  And my blog.  And my philosophy about helping us all to embrace the lovely bodies that the universe blessed us with and loving every inch and feeling absolutely no shame.  I asked him what he was going to do with the footage of all of that and he said he was shooting sort of a "behind the scenes of the festival" montage to go along with his own movie which was being shown today at 5:30.  There was a lot of buzz about his movie, 60 Seconds of Distance, which shows three interwoven episodes of teenage boys, called upon to be men and what happens.  I hope he had a great audience.  He was a veryveryvery kind soul. 

So as I said, the Festival runs until Thursday.  I'm working every day.  Come on down to the Del Mar and see me!  Introduce yourself and tell me that you're a fan of Nakedjen.  I'd love to meet you and I can assure you there are some really fabulous independent films that you just have to see.