Good-Bye Mister Hawking

Goodbye Mister Hawking. Sorry that you never got my letter. 

When the news of your death hit the InterWires, I cried. Sure we’d joked about those races up and down Virginia Avenue. Loser hahaha. Faced with my Diet Coke and Menthos powered chair you stood no chance! Maybe you shouldn’t have spent so much time on that fusion engine ya know?. *  During those hours of build time you once told me to look at the stars, not at my feet. It was so easy! I hadn’t seen my feet for 20 years. But seriously Steve…

Hawking cover

Most folks are already aware of your brilliance in helping to explain the universe the stars and our planet. Extracting the mysteries of the galaxies. There’s much more though.

You were a vocal advocate for the disabled.  Maybe vocal isn’t the right clickity clackity word. Ratting out the NHS. Several years back Professor Hawking stated that without his wealth and fame, he’d be dead already. There’s currently a year waiting list for a wheelchair. You go Britain. Right up there with the U.S.

For the first time a beam was shone on physics, science and all things space oriented. A Brief History of Time was amazing. Have an admission though Steve: it took two tries to read the book through. It was worth every stutter and stammer. Nothing personal.
Just like a real friend you began by leading me to many more authors. From there to new ideas and places. I haven’t stopped.

Why did you leave with no goodbye? What the hell brainiac dude? Thought there was plenty of time to write a letter to you.

cropped-too-stupid-to-understand-science-try-religion-856499612-800x800

 

Professor Hawking, you were hysterical and serious by turns. Your dry humor, obvious intelligence, and ofttimes snarky wit confidently hid an unimaginable emotional pain.  Fun to watch the pundits filled with greed and political agendas attempting to stutter back. Your Humanist comments reflect the best in logic and peace. You never did hide behind your computer.

A mind filled with curiosity, yet insight combined with knowledge of a short life.  Mister Hawking, you didn’t miss this new age of exploration and scientific discovery beginning. Space flight for citizens is possible! Richard Branson offered you a free ticket! Dammit I could have been your plus one.

Good-bye Mr. Hawking and thank you.

Your Pal,

Rachael B.

 

Three Favorite Stephen Hawking Quotes

  • Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don’t just give up
  • I believe alien life is quite common in the universe, although intelligent life is less so. Some say it has yet to appear on planet Earth.
  • The thing about smart people is that they seem like crazy people to dumb people

 

 

 

 

The Most Outlandish Tale About Anxiety and Depression Ever Told

 Wait wait, the story doesn’t start here!  This is a blog hop, people!High Anxiety Blog Hop
Click HERE to start from the beginning.

 

 

I stepped closer. “Whoa! Is that what I think it is?!”

The Cretin Brothers took a step back. Disbelief shown on their ugly faces. Reaching around in the purse my hand found my lipstick tube. I flicked it open and pepper spray hit both of the ugly Midnight Movers.
“Ooops”  I said.

My heart thudded as the immediate arresting thoughts slammed me:

  1. I’d forgotten to re-stock the Xanax in this purse
  2. The phone number for 911 had completely escaped my mind
  3. That tube of lipstick had better not be lost. Revlon discontinued that shade
  4. The portable charger was easy to find in my bag
  5. We’re gonna need a bigger boat

As the ugly stick kids gagged and wiped at their eyes I hobbled over to the item they’d dropped. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes. Bending down I grabbed the extension cord and plugged it into the charger. In an utterly selfless act I aimed the rounded end of the object towards Tall Guy’s tuchus. With a mighty push on the wheels a glow and hum began to emanate from the missile shaped package. They suddenly understood. Mascara running down his cheeks, Tall reached down to grab his ankles.

Short dark and ugly stood by and watched as the A-Bomb shot directly towards his comrade’s backside “Oh dear Gods! It’s a giant…..

Click HERE to continue the story!

 

2013: Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Happy New Year 2014

Welcome to the YoYo-Dyne 2013 Year in Review!

Is THIS your kitten?!

Cute Kitty picture

New Year’s Eve. A hot Little Black Dress, 8″ Steve Madden stilettos, my Silver Fox coat, a Vintage 1950’s clutch purse and Call-Girl-Red lipstick.
If this doesn’t impress the cat tonight nothing will.

Here are a few of my favorite things from 2013. A collection of Miss R’s best Tweets, original images, stolen images, a cute kitty and the naughty bits too.

Have a healthy happy New Year and remember: Everything happens for a reason. For instance, if you’re on fire it’s because I don’t like you

Miss R Tweets for You!

  • Does the five second rule apply to my dignity?
  • If you suffer a strange pain today just remember that thousands of people die from that every year
  • Do I have to water this poinsettia or will it die on it’s own?
  • I’m sorry I wore your baby as a hat
  • The “Mayday” button on the new Kindle Fire should be renamed the “Let me show you my Ass” button. That’s all I’ll use it for.
  • I like to live each day as thought it’s my last. This explains having no clean laundry and the unmade bed
  • Ex-husband Number One is now available on Aisle Two
  • Gravity has had it’s way with me. At least something has
  • Stop playing the victim. It’s not even a real instrument
  • You’re never too old to throw random shit in other’s shopping carts while they’re not looking
  • A Happy Spanksgiving to you all!
  • I’m in serious trouble if people find out I don’t really have Tourette’s
  • Sure, he’s just the pizza delivery guy. With chloroform and some quality time in the basement he’s the one
  • My phone just changed ‘calendar’ to ‘cake radar’ and now I really wish I had that
  • I like you, but not “I’ll let you out of the basement” like you.
This is The Demon Seed. My daughter as a junior in college looks just like I did as a junior in college.   We talk about her grad school choices, watch Doctor Who specials together, fight over the Fall Out Boy knee socks and worry about our white girl problems

This is The Demon Seed. 
We talk about her grad school choices, watch Doctor Who specials together, fight over the Fall Out Boy knee socks and worry about our white girl problems

I had my heart crushed into the bitter coffee of a Starbucks machiatto

I had my heart crushed into the bitter grounds of a Caramel Betrayal Macchiato

Found some really funny people on the Internet. Funny ha ha. the funny strange people are reading this post.

Found some really funny people on the Internet. Found some really strange people on the Internet.

Got sick of people confusing Bi-Polar with psychopath, bugfuck crazy, too lazy to ‘just be happy’ and/or sad just to make you angry. Eric at Black Box Warnings chose me to contribute a guest post on Bi-Polar disorder. Got a new therapist and a new sponsor this year.

Spent a rainy radical week in the Nevada desert for 4th of Juplaya and attended the work parties in preparation of Burning Man. Missed one work weekend to recover from completely unexpected gallbladder surgery… I can now eat any damned thing I like because the gallbladder is GONE.

Things got weird a few days before my yearly foray to Black Rock City in August. Had everything planned to spend the week before The Burn with my daughter and bestie Spankers setting up our theme camp. Then Burning Man itself. My yearly vacation to Magic, Family, Music, Art, Insanity, Bliss and Gratitude. Home.

Instead I spent the Burn in a hospital bed, paralyzed below the waist. Good times.
Today I exercise and stretch to keep those body parts in good working order. You never know when Tall Dark and Hebrew may come knocking on your door. WASP is good too.

Tomorrow is a new year. It doesn’t mean a new start but it implies a shove of momentum to me. We just won’t wake up tomorrow shiny and thin and rich.
Well you won’t but I still hold out hope.

Life is still funny. I’m still funny. The milk smells funny but there’s a cure for that. So I leave you with a tune and a wicked grin
Cheers to friends. Cheers to Life. Cheers for Tears…

Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.
-Hunter S. Thompson

Love, Cute Kitties and Porn
~Miss R

A Poem In the Key of Depression

crows in rain LG

I can beat anything. Conquer anything
From intellectual pursuits to stupid bar jokes
From Music to Skiing
It’s a proven fact and my humility is obvious as you can see

Sitting on the bed
Looking at the damned walker
Thinking of the fall last week that
I told no one about. No more hospitals

Knocked me out cold and caused a concussion
Followed by the first migraine ever
Followed the next day by
Electrical shocks all through my body and numbness

Fuck you body! Fuck you disease!

The truth is kicking my ass
Trying to wrap my broken brain around something
Walking again might not happen at a 30% chance
No dancing no man to love my life a nauseating carnival ride

During the third week in the hospital
Psychosis and hallucinations had stopped
Idiot physicians had jacked me full of steroids and was allergic
Read the records last week they note Explosive Personality

Well when I was drinking and in a black-out it was true
As I read through the charts I laughed
Laughter tinged with grim thoughts
There were no notes on a previous steroid reaction

One night I wandered out to the nurse’s station
And asked for a Cabernet and a Cigarette
Don’t Drink Don’t Smoke What do You Do?
Thought I was on a spaceship. With a bar. It’s so me.

My boyfriend of three years came to visit the third week
After the cognitive functions returned
He admitted after diligent questioning and lies
He had been with another for months. My heart, will and soul crushed then.

So I looked at those paralyzed legs that day
Sitting on the hospital bed going on three weeks
Looking at that damned wheelchair
Knowing he had been cheating on me, why he had not visited but twice and quickly

The number one cause of death from TM
Is Suicide.
Not failure of the liver or respiratory system or falls
Those are the silver, bronze and runner ups

Mom calls every day
She drives from California every two weeks
She does the laundry, prepares food for the freezer
Cleans the house and brings me Fresca which is nice

No longer can I cook, clean or hold anything for long
Taking a shower is a bitch. On a chair. Like a geriatric
Please wash my hair I’m so lonely and it hurts
Feel a burden and pathetic whiner to express these words to anyone

These are my thoughts after almost three months
Working hard each day with PT exercises
Trying to take a few steps no concussion please
Never able to get on my tippy toes again

Fuck you body! Fuck you disease!

Mom called last night and asked how I was
Told her about the anger the shocks, numbness the embarrassment of the steroid reaction
The worthless neurologist with no prognosis and no advice
Exhaustion of the body soul and nerve function and tear ducts

So Mom said Be Glad you were diagnosed so quickly
So what if that steroid caused the staff to treat you as a scary diagnosed psychotic
Your boyfriend was an abusive piece of shit. There is progress. There is no longer a wheelchair
You almost lost your life

And I answered
What Life?

Transverse Myelitis

Have been in hospital for almost two weeks. Lost all feeling in legs and hands now too, and pain in back and hands has increased to 11.
Am in hospital until I can walk and take care of myself. Neurological disease called Transverse Myelitis. One in a million people get it. Docs know nothing really. Am unable to think straight, although mental acuity is returning bit by bit. Suddenly lost all ability to move my lower limbs, three hours after the onset and trip to the ER  lost movement in hands. Cannot go home until I can walk some with my walker. Am up to painful shuffling: a foot at a time using the walker. Can’t fall, cracking my skull. This had already happened in the several weeks preceding. Not sure it would matter.

THIS is the year of the unexpected disease! Watch your back kids.
p.s. didn’t remember how to log in and post. Now that is fucked up.
I may walk in 2 or three weeks. Or never. Oh physical rehab how I do love thee

My friends are passing through Reno to Burning Man. I am missing my 9th year. I hurt. This is fucking depressing as hell. The steroids made me psychotic. Literally

Hospital food is hideous. No one visits because this place is out in the boonies. I need ice cream, cobbler, sweets, a decent cup of coffee.

Okay Done Ranting and Rambling. Burn On kids!

~Miss R

A Serious Post from your usually Not Serious Bi Polar Writer

I was generously offered the opportunity to write a guest post for one of my favorite sites, Black Box Warnings. Some of you may have already  read the piece, but it is under my name, not YoYo-Dyne.

I hesitate to post it here, as it is very personal and not YoYo-Dyne material. It deals with mental illness and Bi-Polar Disorder, and not in my usual passing manner.

If you are interested you can find it here. http://blackboxwarnings.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/heavy-mental-2/

Thank you to my readers… this post will probably cost me a few heh. Damn, I just hit 1000 readers/follows this weekend too. Yay me!

Take Care,

~Miss R

Clean-up on Aisle 4! Today’s 12 Step Boogie Lesson

Just celebrated a Sobriety Birthday. Took a chip at my fave Reno meeting; sponsor and friends cheering me on. Feel free to have a drink in my honor.
Will be there in spirit(s).
Join me in a double espresso if you’re stopping by the house.

sober humor rachael TK

Currently working on Step 4:

“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves”

If you’re familiar with 12 step programs you’ll know that this particular portion of  the journey is considered to be the most frightening, emotional and difficult. The point of working The Steps is to bring a person to freedom and happiness.
The freedom of bondage from self. Or self-will run riot as the 12 Steps say.
Or, the freedom that allows you to happily live in your own skin, as I say.
Knowing an ease of living which allows the organic occurrence of self will to spill naturally: the pursuit of helping others, recognizing the joyful incidents in life,  and by being an example to those who seek guidance and help them to recover from the disease of alcoholism.
The book Alcoholics Anonymous states that upon completion of all 12 steps the addict will find a ‘spiritual awakening’.  I’m an atheist so that phrase doesn’t resonate with me.

Freedom from my own past mistakes, guilt, blame, the ability to keep from repeating the same idiotic decisions over and over, and the selflessness resulting will allow me to be of maximum service to others. To stop hating myself.
By helping other people we get out of our own problems. It works both ways. Good deal.

Instead of following the suggestions of this program verbatim  I re-configure the phrase ‘spiritual awakening’ to reflect what we’re all looking for: Replacing the fear and anger which cause selfish acts and self-loathing with acceptance,  gratitude, humility and helpfulness to others. We have to fill the void left by self-medication to dull life and pain. Believe I read somewhere that nature abhors a vacuum. Or cats abhor them. Eh, either way.

I don’t believe Alcoholics Anonymous should be considered a work inscribed in stone.   The flatline in membership over the past few years can surely be traced to the rigidity of many local groups, and the General Services Council. Recently both Toronto and Kansas City threw out the agnostic/atheist meetings previously listed on their schedules.

There are as many specialized meetings available (in larger cities at any rate), as there are diverse groups in society as a whole. If you Google for a local meeting schedule you’ll find fellowship groups geared towards LGBT, Pagans, Doctors, Lawyers, Men Only, Women Only, Teens and many other special or minority interests.

The idea that being an agnostic or atheist precludes a person from finding sobriety, and doesn’t belong in 12 Step literature, meetings and groups is frightening. It’s not just showing prejudice, it is showing ignorance and most importantly it keeps people away who want help.

The ‘Big Book,’ as we alkies refer to the tome Alcoholics Anonymous, explicitly states that we are a fellowship and
The ONLY requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.

Big Book Thumpers (think religious fundamentalists and zealots) make me deranged. You’ll find them all over the world. “By the blood of Jesus Christ and the power of Alcoholics Anonymous I am sober today!”
Holy crap Batman.
Not my style. A huge turn off if you are Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Pagan and particularly non theist or deist. Importantly, being physically sober doesn’t make you happy. It doesn’t cure your woes. Without tools to aid us we’re just dry drunks. You know them. Sober but still all kinds of fuckered up, inherently unhappy and pissed off at the world.
Why bother then?! Unless you dig that whole cross and nails thing.

The salient point of Step 4, and finding peace and sanity, is making an inventory.
In writing.
This is similar to what any business owner must do annually. If you’ve ordered items that don’t sell you’ve got to let them go.  I’m having a fire sale this month.

Step 4 is a literal inventory of character defects as opposed to an inventory of the items in a store. Such as that pallet of board games which turned out to be one of the dumbest purchases you’ve made that season.
Don’t ask me how I can relate to this metaphor so well.

I hear virtually all of you saying “Surely not! Miss R? Character Defects? Blasphemy!” Yes it’s true.

In order to be happy joyous and free (but still cheap nyuk nyuk nyuk) life has to be lived with rigorous honesty. Except with the IRS. I’m not talking about ‘cash register’ honesty. Have always had that.
This rigorous honesty has to be with myself. Which sucks. No more two day pity parties complete withblack balloons, Ben and Jerry’s, fabulous playlists of my favorite depressing music, and of course the number one offender: Not seeing my part in most past bad situations.

As a veteran of the sobriety wars my original 4th Step was completed 17 years ago. Think there must have been at least 140 items on the list. Today that list consists of less than 30 items, probably closer to 25.  Mercifully all of the years I was clean and sober did some good and a lot of information stuck.

Making the inventory list begins with writing down ALL persons, places and things which piss you off. You’ll start out thinking there are just a few. Suddenly your pen will begin flying as if possessed. Weird but true.

Next, you’ll make a second column describing the situation which brings up such commendable memories and thoughts -she said in her best snarky voice-.  The last column lists WHY you feel uncomfortable, agitated or pissed off at the items on your inventory list.

Once again, seventeen years later, it’s apparent that Fear is the basis for my discomfort. Fear translates into anger, self-pity, and blaming others. Including ourselves. There are a lot of items on my 4th Step list which are the result of outside influences. Letting go of unnecessary guilt is part of the process as well.

Going to stop today’s 4th Step dance lesson here. Hope you may have an idea now of what your friend, family member or yourself, is dealing with when talking about the 4th Step. They’re surely losing their friggin minds at this point.

It’s scary to look at our deepest fears. To see on paper every minute, agitating, horrifying detail ranging from cruel verbal outbursts to sexual conduct that has left us feeling like worthless pieces of human crap.

I’ll tell you what I know to be true for me in a brief overview:

Step 1:  We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. –yeah I got that!

Step 2: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity –I’ll try anything at this point. Even AA as a higher power-

Step 3: Turned our will and our lives over to God, as we understand Him. –Wait. Back up. WTF?!

Note the last portion of the above step. It’s in there to ‘help’ us poor misguided agnostics and atheists and pagans to give up their idea of controlling the universe. I got over this hurdle by realizing that if there is no God, then I couldn’t be Her. Replacing the word God with your idea of a Power Greater Than Yourself can be a slippery semantic bitch. So, I use another technique as well; break it down to it’s essence. This is acceptance. We are not in control of life. I don’t mean give up.People have free will. It is refers to material problems. You have no control if your car breaks down, you get cancer or your neighbor pisses on your rose bush during the night. You DO have control over how you handle the situation. Act instead of react. Accept that a rain cloud has decided to storm over your life that day. Don’t take the anger and frustration out on other people. Or yourself.

Step 3 is really about Acceptance, not God. By using critical thinking it is possible to divorce the wording, divine the purpose of the step and learn how to use a new tool. Works wonders in lowering your blood pressure as well.

It’s hellish as a non-Christian to sit in a room full of people who happily recite God this God (with a capital G) that and all you hear is framed in Christian context. The Alano club (a building or room dedicated to hold 12 step meetings) where I hang out has a lot of murals painted on the walls. One shows a bar with people portrayed as ducks. Hell if I get the duck thing but that’s not the point. There’s a newbie pictured -falling off their bar stool. There’s an old-timer pictured -holding his big book and grinning. There are several other characters depicted including a duck labeled atheist. He has horns sprouting from his head.
I shit you not.
First time I noticed this I burst into laughter. Then thought about it and mused over the non-Christian who may have seen this, left the meetings, and died of this disease. All because a fellowship (NOT a program despite what too many members say and believe) cannot or will not accept anything not of their understanding. Particularly if it is not written down in the book.

For a group that bases virtually all of it’s tenets on Acceptance, this is some tough food for thought.

The 12 Steps DO work, if you work them with rigorous honesty.

For more than twelve years I practiced their principles in all of my affairs and led a bountiful, fun, laughter filled and generous life.
Do I have problems with AA as a whole? Clearly. Are their answers? Yes. Can people find sobriety if they truly want it and work these steps in order? Yes. If you are willing to go to any lengths to stop the pain, and find serenity.

Never said it was easy. It’s also not the Only way to get sober and find peace. It is the only way that has proven that sobriety and happiness can be mine. Hundreds of thousands of other 12 Steppers will also attest to this. Hundreds of thousands have shown that they achieved sobriety and happiness using other means. Statistically, AA seems to be the choice with a lower recidivism rate.

On that note go out and enjoy a great day, bring merriment to the masses, and set a steel-spring trap under the roses.
Currently, your intrepid writer is convalescing at mom’s house in northern California. Came for a four day visit. On the final evening my gallbladder decided to attack, caused itself and the rest of my body to be rushed to the hospital ER, and was then removed.

A CLASSIC! Can't believe this is out of print

A CLASSIC! Can’t believe this is out of print

Three hours of surgery, lots of IV Fentanyl and Morphine and two days later I’m back at mom’s house recovering. I’ll share my Norco with that espresso I got going on the stove.
Back to Reno on Friday after having stitches removed.

If you’re going to become ill, suffer pain so horrible and intense that you wished a large rock was in reach -to bash yourself into unconsciousness-  while on vacation, then make sure to do so at mom’s house. Especially when she is an RN. Especially specially when she knows your favorite childhood dishes. If you’re an addict or alcoholic it also provides plenty of time to finish writing out that pesky 4th Step.

Pack your Xanax though. There’s a reason we leave our parents to begin with.

~Miss R