50 Greatest Sex Scenes
50 Worst Sex Scenes

I haven’t seen most of these movies, but I plan to use these lists to update Alex’s and my queue from now on. Lately we have been passing off the responsibility of moving a film to the top slot the way we used to try to pass off the next diaper change, especially the ones that announced themselves with unmistakable sounds and/or odors. That was a battle I never did win anyway, because someone had to demonstrate the strength of his gag reflex. Shit loaded diapers, vomiting husbands, what was I writing about?  Sex in movies! Anyway, the only disagreement I had with these lists was Monster’s Ball being on the worst list. I thought that sex scene was hot. I even remember thinking they had to be actually doing it because it looked pretty realistic.

This Operation Feel The Fuck Better has been time consuming lately, because I have been making doctor’s appointments and actually keeping them instead of canceling them in favor of sleep. Things with my psychiatrist are great. He doesn’t talk much; I don’t talk much. I quickly run through how I have been feeling and if there have been any unusual stresses (His words, not mine. I’ve never thought of stress as unusual in my life) and then we chat about should we toy with the drugs I am on or not and I am out of there. At my last visit he asked me if my job was in danger, what with the state of the economy and all, and I explained that there is a pub at the restaurant I bake for and while food sales are down, booze sales are up. My future lies in the hands of the drunken patrons needing a sandwich or a burger to wash up some of that grog.  The other thing I’ve noticed is a lot more people are eating desserts, especially on the weekends. I like to think of this as the “I lost over $100,000 in my 401K, I might as well have a $7 piece of cake” effect. My psychiatrist also noticed that I was sitting crooked in the chair, trying to put more of my weight on the side of my lower back that hurts the least, and he suggested I start doing yoga. Things had been going so well until then. Sometimes I wish that I could be one of the bendy stretchy women who pass by my work in the mornings on their way to the yoga studio as I sit huddled in the cold rain with a pint of ale in one hand and a smoke in the other, but I know that unless I could roll up the yoga mat and smoke the damn thing I probably couldn’t hold the first position, or the second one. It’s a shame though, because without fail, the women who walk by me with their ponytails swinging and their mats tucked under their arm look amazing.

I also had an appointment with my primary care physician and she was wonderful, as always. I apologized for not having shaved my legs and she laughed at that and later she apologized before she looked up something on google. Alex was horrified when I told him that my doctor sometimes looked in a book or went online to check on something, but I think it’s great. First of all I would rather have a doctor double check something before fucking up my health and secondly, doctors probably do it all the time, they just usually leave for a minute or two and then come back. I just made that up, but it makes sense to me. My doctor praised me for slowly taking off weight over the last few years and for keeping it off, which is nice to hear, but not the way I wanted to do it. I know she’s right and all but I want to feel OK in this skin NOW. She then referred me to a specialist for my fucked up back, suggested more physical therapy and YOGA! I told her I didn’t want to stand with a group of people and be the only one who couldn’t  bend myself into this position and then that one, and she suggested a small group, with an instructor who would be willing to modify the poses for me. I don’t want to stand out in a crowd. I like to hide at home. This OFFB (thank you Belle!) is tough.

I went to the specialist the next day, and she looked over the scans of my back and asked me if I’d been in a car wreck. That made me strangely happy because it is a better response than “I see nothing wrong here, it must be in your head.” She showed me some stretches to do before work and throughout the night. She carefully guided me through them until I was doing them correctly and I felt safe and happy in her office, her hands warm against my skin. She casually mentioned that taking off a few pounds would ease some of the pain and I was relieved to be able to say that I had been doing just that, slowly. She advised me to start working in sneakers instead of the clogs I usually bake in, something about having more cushion around my feet. I had all the paperwork to take with me to the physical therapist and she was shaking my hand, saying how nice it was to meet me, when she too suggested yoga. This time I was ready and I told her that I was going to look into it.

I am glad that I didn’t also schedule a dentist appointment this week because all of the time traveling on the bus and sitting in waiting rooms was a bit much.

Other than doctors I spent my days off cooking, baking and cleaning at home. I have really gotten lazy about things, letting chores slip because I am just so tired after work. I have been going over our budget with Alex and we both agreed that we need to cut down on our grocery bill, among other things. A large part of that is the fact that I have been buying more convenience items since I returned to work so that it’s easier for the four of us to eat without me spending hours in the kitchen. Nathan and Polly are both pretty lazy when it comes to fixing themselves something to eat on the nights I don’t cook and I feel guilty every time I hear the beeping of the microwave.

Now it is one hour before I need to catch the bus to work. I am tired, but there are scratch cooked meals in both the fridge and the freezer; I baked fresh bread for us and the house looks great, for now. This must be what people mean by a good tired. I feel productive, on top of things, headed in the right direction. I have a solid idea of the steps I am taking and the ones that shall come. I begin physical therapy next week and my dentist’s phone number is on a post it next to the moniter, waiting for me to call in the morning. I even dug through a box of things I had stashed in a closet and pulled out a few yoga tapes I have on VHS. If I ever get some time in this house when no one is watching me except for maybe the dog and the cats I might give it a try. Just maybe, because you never know.

Enough of my boring life, what’s new with you? Have you been reading but you haven’t introduced yourself? It would be cool if you did. I love comments. Does anyone have any recommendations for journals for me to read? I hope you are all well. Years ago, when I first started reading journals I never really got it when people wrote about how much they loved their readers. Now I do, and it feels great.

I’ve shown the first sign of sanity in ages by making a deal with my supervisor to get a few days off. I even drained the vacation time that I have earned in the last seven months because I can. I have been doing a lot of sleeping. I watched a really bad movie, P.S. I Love You, and cried good hard cries, stopping the movie to do so. It felt good. Also, hello Gerard Butler. Your accent drives me mad crazy horny.

I have come up with a list of steps I plan on taking to launch Operation Feel the Fuck Better 2008. I didn’t write them down, but I should have. Regardless, I am feeling a lot better. A lot is two words. I have basically decided to take the following steps:

1) Eat on a regular basis, instead of forgetting to eat until I am dizzy and sick, and then being tempted to binge eat.

2) Take my medications as prescribed. This might seem really obvious, but with all of the hours spent working on the graveyard shift and trying to sleep during the day, I sometimes can’t remember whether or not I’ve taken my pills.

3) Walk more.

4) Laugh until my sides ache, often. (Even if I am laughing alone).

5) Ask for help when I need it.

6) Take the time to pamper myself in some way on a regular basis.

7) Say No (and then forget about it) more.

8)  Stop waiting until I am thin to live my life. I’ve lost twenty lbs., and instead of feeling good about that, I am thinking of the other 20 I need to lose.

9) Learn to let go, even if it’s just a little bit more.

10) ? I can’t remember, but I can’t think of anything other than the fact that I am out of cigarettes right now. One of the steps was not to quit smoking. Oh yeah, sleeping. Making the time to sleeeeep.

***

Anyway, hi. How are you?

When I first wrote about Brett Reider here I had just seen the documentary BRETT KILLED MOM: A SISTER’S DIARY on HBO and I wanted to write about my feelings and also to encourage everyone to watch what I thought was a very important film. I wasn’t even thinking that other people, who were, like me, wondering what had happened to Brett, would be searching the internet and coming to my site for answers. I posted what I had been able to find out here. I was saddened by the site that stated that Brett had committed suicide. I wanted a happy ending for this young man. As much as I wanted to know the truth I never imagined that I would receive an email from Brett’s wife Sara. She had heard about my site from a friend and wrote to let me know that not only is Brett alive, he is married with two beautiful boys and another baby on the way.

I emailed her back expressing my gratitude for her taking the time to not only contact me, but for providing photos so that I could see for myself that Brett now has a beautiful wife and two darling little boys. I also asked her if she would mind if I wrote a little note on my site stating that Brett was OK. I promised not to use any of the photos and to respect their privacy as it was clear that they have moved on. To my surprise she kindly gave me permission to not only pass on the information but to post the photos as well.

In Sara’s own words (I will place them in italics to make it easier for you, the reader, to differentiate between her words and my own),

“Brett and I just celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary. He turned
30 this year. I am 37. We have two boys – Gavin (3) and Garrett (1). We
also have another (of unknown sex) on the way. Our oldest, Gavin was
diagnosed with Autism at 13 months old – so our lives revolve around
that. Parenting an autistic child is very challenging. Brett is a
wonderful father and Gavin has come along way because of all of the
time and attention Brett is able to give him.”

“Brett just lives a normal life. We moved from Nebraska to the coast of
North Carolina and he enjoys his anonymity. The documentary was filmed
when Brett was 16 years old – and they still air it now and again. We
did ask for them to put a written update at the end – but they never
responded and Brett has no rights or control over the program.”

“…we have received thousands of emails, letters and phone calls over the years
with horrific stories of abuse. Some similar to Brett’s – some much
worse. It really gets to be too much sometimes…because it is so sad
how common it is and can be very depressing. Brett also couldn’t
possibly respond to them all – which is why he doesn’t.”

“We are grateful to all of the people who have reached out to Brett over
the years – many of whom wrote the parole board and were critical to
his early release. We would like everyone to know this. We would also like for people to know that our focus now is on our son and advocating for Autism awareness. It truly
consumes our life.”

“We really aren’t hiding – we have just moved on and have so many other things to deal with now.
Hopefully, people searching from here on out will find your site and be
able to get the information they are seeking.”

Sara also let me know that Brett’s sister, “Alissa, is married and also has two boys aged 2 and 4″.

Sara also closed her email with a link to a website dedicated to autism http://www.generationrescue.org/

I myself have a nephew with autism and I have seen first hand the time and effort my sister and brother in law have put into making sure that their son lives the best life possible.

For me, this whole experience has been a lesson in hope and the ability of a person to not only survive horrifying abuse suffered at the hands of the ones who should ultimately protect us, our parents, but to rise above the idea that the cycle of abuse can’t be broken by going on to become wonderful spouses and parents.

My sincerest thanks to the Reider family for not only sharing this information and these photos with me, but also for allowing me to share them with the thousands of people who have been searching the internet to find out what happened to Brett Reider after his release from prison.

For those of you who have commented or emailed me with your stories of abuse please know that you are not alone. So many of us unfortunately share this common bond. If you are currently in an abusive situation don’t be afraid to ask for help. If you are out of the abusive situation but still finding it difficult to deal with the pain and/or the low self esteem that often follows there is help out there for you too. So many suffer in silence.

11/21/07 Edited to add that Brett’s wife Sara saw that people were curious about Brett’s current occupation, and she wrote me to say “Brett is a construction foreman who works on multi-million dollar projects.”

9/8/09  Edited to Add Brett and Sara’s personal family/business blog can be found at this site.

In Sara’s own words from the comments ,” We welcome all friendly, kind-hearted visitors. We also welcome relevant posts. Anything otherwise will be deleted… just an FYI!”

“I just want to clarify that if you would like to become friends with our family and discuss things that are currently important in our life, please visit and comment on our blog. If you would like to discuss Brett’s crime, this site would be the forum to do so.”

Please go there with kindness and respect.

My mind has been positively racing as of late, but I’ve felt unable to write it down because my brain moves too fast. At times like these I wonder if maybe I am bipolar but I don’t say anything because this drug thing? It’s getting so old. I honestly don’t feel that I can have a journal all about me and my depression and anxiety. It’s boring even for me, the subject matter. I could go on about the cold I can’t shake and how I feel dead inside right now. I suppose the Paxil has kicked in. I feel empty. Is it normal to have the reaction that you’re somehow dying inside? I resisted the doctor’s orders to put me on medication in 1986. I thought that it was important to feel, but it was all so overwhelming. I caved in 1993, and it’s been on and off since then.

I imagine that you, my reader, have to have a shelf life of how long you can pay attention to listening to some woman on the internet drone on about a depression that can’t be cured. I have been looking for other subject matter.

My Mom asked me recently what I loved to do; what I wanted to do with my life. I told her that I’d never been as happy as when I worked as a volunteer feeding the homeless.

“How are you going to make money at that?” was her reply. But that wasn’t her original question. She asked me what I loved to do. I like to feed the hungry. It might sound silly but it is such a simple and complex thing, removing hunger from someone’s life, even temporarily. I have been on both sides of it; having dealt with a severe lack of food both as a child and as an adult and it’s amazing what a meal can do to really fill someone.

“Hold tight. We’re in for nasty weather”

Yesterday I was grumpy. Polly was being her usual chatterbox self and I felt as if I needed some quiet. She doesn’t understand. She can’t understand. I ended up getting snappy with her and I feel guilty about that. The dog doesn’t like to go outside when it’s raining. That has been a struggle, this being Portland, Oregon and all. So yesterday I was doing the dishes and she shit all over the carpet. Diarrhea. It was my fault, because she should have been in her crate, but I wanted to let her out to roam the house a bit. I took her out and then came in to clean the mess. The whole house smelled and I couldn’t find any incense and I wanted to crawl into bed and hide. I was uncertain as to whether I needed to make a cup of coffee to perk me up, or perhaps have a nice relaxing cup of herbal tea? I considered taking a walk to the store to buy a bottle of wine. Maybe that would relax me?

I remembered how when I was a kid my Mom used to put a pot on the stove with water in it, and cinnamon sticks and cloves. She would simmer it and the whole house would smell wonderful. I grabbed a pot, filled it with water, dropped in some spices and then threw in some vanilla and a good dash of the lemon oil that I bought last year for some cookie recipe. I put it on the stovetop and went back to the dishes. I heard a sound, turned my head, and Woosh! The whole thing was on fire. I stared at it in disbelief for a second. The top of the pot was covered in flames, under the burner was on fire and flames were licking the wall. I put it out as quickly as I could. The kids came out of their rooms.

All that feng shui crap about not having fire across from water suddenly made sense. While you’re doing the dishes the whole house could burn down. After the fire was out Nathan looked at me and said, “Well, at least it smells better in here” and went back into his room.

The smoke detectors went off as I was wiping the black marks off of the wall above the burner. Alex came from upstairs where he had been sleeping, looked at me, turned around and walked back upstairs without asking me what I had done.

I grabbed my coat and walked to the store in the rain. Once there I decided that I wanted to have a beer. I looked in the cooler and they had Budweiser, Corona, and Heinekin. “Heinekin! Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!” I remembered. I smiled and bought the Heinekin, forgetting that it loses its good flavor on the ship over from Holland and always tastes nasty to me.

On the walk back home the rain stopped and I saw a double rainbow and I felt better. Not great, but better.

I am currently watching “Melinda and Melinda”. The title of this post is from the movie.

I haven’t been writing because I’ve been processing.

I had an appointment with a surgeon/gynecologist and she said that I need to have a hysterectomy asap. I told her that I needed some time to think it over, to get a second opinion even. I called my sister (opinion #2), I called my Mom (opinion #3). I made an appointment with another doctor. She can’t see me until September 10th. I can’t think of any reason why I don’t want to have this surgery done except for I don’t want to. Is that a a reason? It counts in my book.

I have been working a lot which is good. I get obsessive about things sometimes. I don’t want to think about surgery. I can’t imagine my kids with their mother recovering from major surgery for ? weeks. I was all ready to go in to this doctor and argue my right to have a tubal ligation even though she practices out of a Catholic hospital. I was fire and brimstone and mad at the pope for thinking that he can make such choices for the masses. It didn’t matter in the end. She wants to take it all out.

I finished Polly’s room. Of course I wasn’t done when she came back from the beach, despite having stayed up until 4 a.m. to paint, and she cried when she walked through the door. I underestimated the length of time it would take me to do the room. Just the spackling alone took hours. She went a little crazy in there with the staple gun, and the thumb tacks, and the good old fashioned hammer and nails. It looks so much nicer now. I even bought her new carpet, as hers had met its match in a red kool-aid spill. She seemed to have fun decorating once it was time for her to move back in, and we were all glad to get her things out of the living room. She is a little pack rat.

Last night, after my kids recommended it to me, I watched Freedom Writers. I didn’t expect to like it, even though I definitely liked Hilary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry and Million Dollar Baby. It was pretty much exactly what I expected it to be, not too horrible, not too good. It did however open up the lines of communication regarding race issues with my kids. I thought the depiction of the separation between the teens of different races was a bit extreme. After telling my kids what I’d thought, Polly stated that I was right; the kids in her junior high school were not divided by race. Nathan assured me that at the first school that he attended last year it was exactly as it had been in the movie, all of the kids divided up according to ethnicity; White, Black, Latino, and Asian.

My husband happens to be half Hispanic. It hasn’t been something that we’ve given much thought, to be honest. When we first moved in together he asked why I didn’t buy tortillas, beans, salsa and hot sauce and so I bought all of those things and he was happy. Maybe he is only Mexican at dinner time. When we had children Nathan came out dark like his father, and much to our surprise Polly is fair skinned and blond, like me. I have had numerous people ask me if my children have different fathers. Nathan went through a bit of an identity crisis in high school, unsure of which group he fit into. He ended up with the Latino kids. He once told me in anger that he wished his dad had married a Mexican woman. I was both amazed and confused. I had hoped that we had as a society had gone beyond voluntary segregation. I underestimated the need for my son to fit in, to feel as if he had a proper place within a group.

When I was growing up I felt more of a division in the schools based on socioeconomic status. Of course I went to private schools and what I was experiencing might have been based on my own struggle to pretend that I didn’t care that I had old, hand me down underwear and ill fitting shoes. I struggled to be “cool”. I tried very hard to pretend that I didn’t care. I am learning that the struggles my son faces are different than anything I have ever been through. Even his father is a bit baffled, as he never gave any thought to the fact that he had friends of many different races in high school. He didn’t feel the pressure to chose between Hispanic and white and stay within the confines of a group. I sincerely hope that in time Nathan feels at home within himself, and the world.

I took Polly to a play at her school tonight. After the three hour play and drinking a large bottle of water I needed to use the restroom. I walked down the hall to the facilities. When I exited the stall there was a little girl there, maybe four years old, washing her hands at the sink. When she was finished she reached for a paper towel to dry her hands on and her mother exclaimed, “No, Experience, No! Remember to let your hands air dry. Save the earth!”
The girl walked out with her hands shaking in front of her as she tried to get the water off of them.
My first impression: Experience? What kind of name is that? My second impression: Save the earth by not drying your hands? Give me a break. I used two after I’d finished washing mine, just because.

I am off to watch The Pursuit of Happyness. I’ve heard that it’s good so I am really looking forward to it. I hope that everyone is having a good weekend.

if I am still breathing, eating, drinking, moving, cooking, cleaning, talking, recycling, taking the garbage out, feeding the kids and cats, going to the store, replacing the toilet paper when the roll runs out, loading the washer, the dryer, the dishwasher, answering the telephone, the e-mails, the kids, the mom, the husband, reading the newspaper, watching the news, making sympathetic head tilts and appropriate noises over sad news, chuckling over funny things, taking my daughter to school, picking her up again, thinking about the future, wondering if I’ll ever amount to anything, wondering if I have amounted to anything, growing tired of wondering, watching movies I’ve been waiting to see (Babel, Factotum, Stranger Than Fiction), planning what book to read next (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas),bathing, brushing teeth and hair, dreaming, remembering Birthdays, planning a garden, mopping the floor, remembering to get the mail, pay the bills, sign permission slips, pack lunches, play board games, pull weeds, pop pills each day. I must be okay then.

The Christmas cookie idea worked. Both kids came out of their rooms to help me cut them out and then they both had fun decorating them. Score 1 for me.

Christmas morning Nathan tried to pout around and pretend that he didn’t care about what was under the tree for him or the contents of his stocking. Finally his Dad went and picked him up, threw him over his shoulder, and told him to open his gifts while he (Alex) was still awake to see it. Working the graveyard shift takes a heavy toll. It is hard to flip flop back and forth on your days off. I remember this well from my years as a baker. Nathan ended up laughing and opening gifts.

After breakfast and a couple of hours of present induced giddiness both Nathan and Polly went down for naps. Giddy from the excitement of this unexpected alone time, Alex and I ate sandwiches which he kindly fixed, watched A Christmas Story on TV (I had never seen it) and Alex surprised me with a hidden gift, a Magic Wand. I love trying out new sex toys and haven’t had a new one that I really liked since The Eroscillator. The Magic Wand didn’t disappoint and I was able to achieve mind and body numbing orgasms quickly. It is nice to have a husband who isn’t threatened to bring sex toys into the bedroom.
I have another doctor’s appointment tomorrow with a woman I like quite a bit. I hope that things go smoothly and she doesn’t try to change me from the current cocktail of drugs that seem to be working well for me.

I find myself looking forward to the New Year, college, my spring garden, and whatever lies before me on the path of motherhood. It has certainly been the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted, but the joy is immeasurable.

]]> http://www.livedtotell.com/2006/12/27/another-reason-my-mom-doesnt-have-this-url/feed/ 0 http://www.livedtotell.com/2006/11/29/still-getting-up-each-day/ http://www.livedtotell.com/2006/11/29/still-getting-up-each-day/#comments Thu, 30 Nov 2006 03:46:08 +0000 Tammy http://www.livedtotell.com/2006/11/29/still-getting-up-each-day/

I just finished watching the Libertine. Highly recommended. I tend to watch anything Johnny Depp stars in because chances are it will be good, with few exceptions. This was no different.

Cazzy and Leonardo, I am still preparing to respond to your comments and they are always appreciated. Hopefully tomorrow will afford me more time.