Adventures in Insomnia

I think my bed is cursed.  I can fall asleep in this bed within minutes, totally comfortably, at ANY point during the day.  I can nap on that bed alone, or with the dog, or the kids, or even the husband.  What I cannot do is easily fall asleep in this bed, no matter the conditions, after 9:00 p.m.  Night time sleep requires three to four hours of wrestling with pillows, comforters, dry mouth and tiny bladder.

How cool would it be, if instead of lying in bed, getting frustrated about not being able to sleep, I could use that time for other things?  Driving around while there is no traffic, literally painting the town red, or hanging out with friends?  Imagine how happy they would be to see me unexpected on their stoop at 3:00 a.m.  That kind of surprise is always thrilling.  After they finish exclaiming "Trista!  What on earth are you doing here?  This is so suprising!," they would hop into their clothes and we would head over to a local park to hang out.  

On the swings I would say "I want to get really high."  These big guys will come over and tell me that they can help me get higher than I have ever been before, for $20.  I tell them that sounds great, and they push me on the swings for about 5 minutes.  They push me really high, but for $20 I would have liked them to stay longer. When they leave, they give me some rock candy.  I don't eat it because they seemed nice enough, but the little baggies it was in are kinda weird.  When I leave the park, I pass a lady who must have been trying to get a ride soemwhere.  Cars pull over and she would talk to them for a minute or two through the passenger side window. I will give her the bags of rock candy, thinking she might be hungry or have kids at home.  Rock candy must be one of her favorites, because she tells me she can give me some "fun times" in exchange.  I turn her down because it is getting close to sun-up.  Time to get back to bed before the alarm clock goes off.

Festivities, fireworks and flashbacks.

Happy Independence Day?

At street corners, gas stations, and in empty lots, fireworks tents are popping up. Combine that with the long days and sweltering heat, and that means July 4^th must be near. The quintessential American holiday, we backyard barbeque, take in some baseball, and gather with family and friends. And when the day draws to a close, the fireworks light up the sky. This time honored tradition is one way in which we honor our freedom, our country, and especially the men and women who have fought for our way of life.

The spark and sizzle of fireworks lighting up the sky crosses many divides. Race, religion, wealth, age and gender all fall away as rockets soar into the night. A well crafted fireworks display can easily be more captivating than television or the internet's latest offerings. The beauty of the colors and shapes, the crackle and whine of each rocket, the scent of the smoke, and even the heat if we are close enough, all serve to draw us in.

It is no surprise, then, that we try to recreate the grand displays with fireworks that can be set off in our backyards and neighborhoods. With ID, cash, and some minor agricultural use only fiction, fireworks of all shapes and sizes can easily be purchased at this time of year. Neighbors gather while the children play with simple sparklers. Braver souls fire off larger fireworks, with spectacular and profound effects.

July 4^th is the anniversary of America's Independence Day. The soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen who have defended America must be central to July 4^th celebrations. Despite that, few people are aware that the very fireworks that so habitually symbolize our Independence Day festivities can cause significant emotional trauma to our service members. Estimates say between 10-30% of combat service members will develop post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The bang and boom of a firework becomes the blast and rattle of an explosive device. The whistle of the rocket can be mistaken for an incoming missile. Pops sound like gunfire. The smell from launched fireworks is the same as gunpowder. That flash of light could be gunfire, or an explosion.

If the private use of fireworks is integral to your celebration, please be considerate.

Some suggestions include:

        Cease at a reasonable hour.  Use your area's public show or noise ordinances as guidelines.

        Confine your use to the days immediately surrounding July 4^th. (Either 7/4 or the weekend                                    

                immediately preceding or after)

        Avoid irregularly spacing of the timing of your fireworks.

        Give your neighbors advance notice of your intent to use fireworks.

Care and consideration can go a long way in ensuring everyone is able to enjoy our American Independence Day. Take care of yourself and each other.

You Found Me!

IS IT TODAY YET?

Let me introduce myself in case we haven't already met. My name is Trista.  I am the wife of a disabled Air Force vet, mom to two awesome children, a reluctant attorney, and a New Yorker, but not that part of New York. I have an up and down relationship with my faith that has nothing to do with the standing and kneeling aspects of Catholic Mass, and little makes me happier than throwing myself out of an airplane 3 miles up in the sky.

Yesterday a friend suggested that I write a blog. I told her that my writing inspiration generally only comes hand in hand with insomnia episodes. As a perfect example, it was yesterday when we spoke, but I haven't slept yet so it still feels like today. I've written “yesterday” because I would hate to begin our blog relationship with a lie. Not that I have anything against lying, per se.

I could immediately name numerous reasons why writing a blog wasn't something I should do. When would I write, how often could I write, who would read it, about what would I write and why would anyone want to read my blog were just a few obstacles I could toss onto the path to publication. However, as the evening ticked past and phrases continued to pop into my head, reasons why I could write a blog snuck in. I would enjoy it, someone would invariably read it (even if only to find out if there was any porn in it), and most importantly, as an individual capable of composing an entirely coherent sentence, while at the same time utilizing innate ability and spell check software, I feel a responsibility to try to bring balance back to the Force. The incessant retching of text speak, misspellings and bad grammar, primarily by those who are both old and educated enough to know better, is tipping the internet toward the Dark Side. Cookies notwithstanding, this reign of tyranny must end.

Please don't let me mislead you into believing that I am a “grammar nazi.” I admit that I have a problem with parentheticals and that I am Powerless against them. Additionally, I absolutely adore alliteration. By no means would this blog be solely about parts of speech or the appropriate time to use an emoticon in a business email (Hint: only on days that end in NEVER). So what will this blog be about? You will find out as I do. I hope you enjoy the ride.