Allergies – 1. Amanda – 0.
I have not suffered from allergies in five years. I remember the last time. I had just arrived in Italy and the upcoming Spring was not kind to me. I slept in a sitting position for a week because no medication, old wive’s tale, or stiff drink — or five — could open my nasal passage to allow air into my lungs. My throat was sore and raw from the necessity to mouth-breathe.
Flash forward to March, 2012!
I wish I could say that being reunited with my allergies was a joyous occasion, but anyone who has ever suffered the sinus pressure, the running nose, the itchy eyes, or the fuzzy mental feeling knows how miserable it can be. Anyone who has not suffered those things is saying I just sounded like an allergy medication commercial.
Hah! If those medications truly worked!
It has been a generally rough week. Boredom is killing me, but not yet to the extent that I am chewing my fingers from my hands. It is a different type of boredom than the there’s-nothing-to-do type. I could be doing many things, but this boredom stems from going 100 miles a minute to a crawl in a manner of weeks. I am not throwing my hands up and muttering, “Well, what do I do now?” or anything. I am, however, stuck in a waiting game. Most of you know me. I hate waiting.
I pondered to myself how I would address the next topic, if at all. I will say this: I am no longer raiding in WoW. Truth be told, I am currently not even playing and that suits me fine. I feel the urge to rant and rage about drama, spineless cowards, and pathetic leadership, but the freedom I feel from those chains is astounding and it surprised even me. Everything that has happened lately has made me miss raiding with Fusion, or with BPoV before ten-mans. They both had their buttheads and failures…, but before and after the raid they were all human. All of them.
Will I go back? Definitely. It might be only a “game” to some people, but from it I have found friends and mentors, boyfriends and ex-boyfriends, heart siblings, and my future husband.
Speaking of BPoV, I am saddened to say goodbye to a guildmate and friend. Archangel, or Gulsen if you knew him for much longer, was dealt one of the worst hands I have ever seen. Despite cancer, random infections, surgeries, amputations, and general wrenches being thrown in his gears, he had a jovial outlook and was always ready for a good time. The only face-to-face contact we ever had was at BlizzCon, but he had become a fixture for me every year. There was never a doubt, regardless of his situation, that he would be present and cheering along with the rest of us. He always chuckled when he asked which of us wanted to “ride his gimp card” to enter the convention before the doors opened for the rest of the attendees. He was never above asking for help, and he did not cower or bemoan his luck.
He was one of the strongest people I know, because I do not know many people who could carry the weight he did and still smile as easily as he could.
Rest in peace, Arch. Your presence in my life, though it was brief and only happened once a year, made me a better person. Your positive outlook will make me think twice before I allow myself to think I have it rough.
Another tidbit of good news is my most recent purchase. It might be embarrassing to admit, but aside from a few ranges and sporadic training, I have never had much access to pistols or handguns. When I did shoot them while I was in the Army, I was a quick study and a great shot. Buying a gun, taking classes, and general hobby shooting has always been on the list of things to do. I know an M16-A2 rifle does not fall into the same category as any handheld gun, but I was a near-perfect shot with my rifle and I would love to be able to say I was with a sidearm.
So I bought a Glock 17. Now, this is where many people I know and love voice polar opinions. Half are pleased that I am finally doing something that I have always wanted to do. Others are shocked or saddened that I selected a Glock. There were multiple factors that lead to that choice, not the least of which was price. Glocks are inexpensive, reliable, and resistant to most common ailments of other brands. A friend told me a joke when I admitted I wanted to purchase a sidearm. He said “A Glock is reliable in that you can roll it around in the mud and it will still fire as intended.”
I do not plan on rolling it around in the mud, but the combination of price and reliability made it an easy choice for me. The only hesitation I had was looking through the display glass and comparing another 9mm and the Glock I selected, but a price tag that more than doubled the other made that hesitation very brief. Whip-quick.
What is happening in the week to come? I can say there is not a whole lot on my plate. I plan on taking Matt sightseeing or “touristing” to Santa Fe, the mountains, or some of my favorite hiking trails. My aunt’s birthday is on Friday, so there might be a semi-surprise trip in the works if schedules can accommodate. There will surely be a trip to the range at least once, but I will wait until Eric has some time to come. That is about it.
P.S. I wanted to write something that could adequately express my sadness, or my fury, at the Twitter trend a few days ago. The trend was #ToMyUnbornChild and @Homophobes compiled a list of 100 real tweets from people who would murder their child if it were gay. I read about it on Raising My Rainbow — a blog I absolutely love about a mother and family raising a beautiful little boy who is more sure of himself than many adults I know — and C.J.’s Mom’s post broke my heart and gave me the urge to draw forth my inner crusader to change this cruel and hurtful world. Because her post displayed many of my own feelings, I will link to it as opposed to attempting to lengthen my own.
We are not born hateful. While it is often learned from the parents, it is not genetic. We are not doomed to being as mean and judgmental as our parents, mentors, friends, or heroes.
It is a choice. Your choice. Make it.