There are two kinds of levees ...

... those that have failed, and those that will fail.

At least, that's what several billboards and signs say here in Missouri, especially near the flood plains.

Anyone who was alive during the 1993 flood remembers it, with the possible exception of small children. I was ten years old and remember the day the Missouri River finally reached the Huster Road substation and left hundreds if not thousands of homes without power. It was sometime in July of that year, and I remember having to gather candles and flashlights together so we could see at night.

The floods were caused by persistent storms, as well as snow melt from the Rockies flowing into the rivers. The ground just couldn't hold any more water and the rivers began to rise, and rise, and rise some more.

One of the things I've never understood is how people can justify putting up levees everywhere, redirecting the rivers to their own needs without a thought to the fact that you can't control nature. Even if a levee holds, that water will come out somewhere else and destroy some other town.

It sounds like it could happen again, if this news is any indication.

The most frustrating thing, though, is the morons who build their homes and businesses on the flood plains. A flood comes through, the buildings are wiped out, and they just rebuild in the exact same spot. Then they cry that they can't get flood insurance or federal aid to rebuild.

There's one extensive flood plain in Chesterfield, called the Valley. That entire area was under water in 1993, and now it's covered end to end with concrete and buildings. Runoff water can't get into the ground because of the paving, which means that area is looking at a pretty nasty future if we have even half the flooding we did in '93.

Article: Are Fibromyalgia Patients More Sensitive to Sound?

A study was done on this subject.

I can answer this rather emphatically YES.

My sensitivity to sound has gotten much worse in the past couple of years, to the point I'm ready to tear my hair out sometimes because a certain noise is really getting to me. High pitched sounds, loud sounds, and constant sounds really drive me up the wall.

I can barely even talk on the phone anymore. The sound from the earpiece is right in my ear and I can't get away from it without hanging up the phone. It's especially hard talking to my sister who is rather high pitched.

I also have difficulties at work, where I often have to wear a headset for drive-thru or making drinks at the espresso bar. Near-constant dinging to alert us a customer has pulled up, coupled with occasional diesel engines and continuous talking, all of these things grate on my nerves.

When I'm in pain, it's even harder for me to block out offending sounds. I have to ask my husband to lower his voice or speak more softly, because he has a rather loud and deep voice. All I really want to do is crawl into a hole and pull the dirt in after me just to have some peace and quiet.

The destruction of history

As someone who loves history, and who considered becoming an archaeologist, I find looting and stealing of artifacts to be particularly reprehensible. The fact that there's a black market for artifacts and grave goods (including the inhabitants of said graves) makes me rather ill.

At the bottom of the list of reasons this makes me angry: the destruction of historical context. This is especially important in older digs, where the strata can be dated and thus the age of the artifact can then be judged. Without that context, we only have conjecture.

Somewhere around the middle of the list are people who knowingly purchase stolen goods.

At the top of the list are those who desecrate graves. It's particularly difficult to hear of incidences in America of Indian graves being looted or destroyed, of the utter disregard for both the deceased and the descendants. While the bones may not care what's happening to them, it's a matter of respect and dignity. Whether or not graves should be opened in order to extract DNA, or determine how ancient peoples lived, that's a whole other issue I won't get into here.

The problem is that people don't look at the artifacts or the bones as important. They're only seen for their monetary value by those who loot and sell. The fact that they're taking things that don't belong to them is one thing; simple theft doesn't have huge cultural ramifications (though it's not a victimless crime, of course). The historical and cultural value of an object is priceless, a window into prehistory that we might not otherwise have.

One of the hardest things for a history enthusiast to hear is that someone has taken a bulldozer or a backhoe to an archaeological site in order to quickly get at the goods. Not only does this destroy the historical context, it also destroys much of the artifacts. Of course, the looters don't care, they're just trying to get as much as possible as quickly as possible.

While authorities and volunteers have tried their best to save sites, but even then they're foiled by looters. A recent story from USA Today talked about an uptick in theft from U.S. national parks. The looters will call in false reports to lure park rangers and other authorities away, so that they have time to loot the site.

There's even a problem with "casual" looting, wherein visitors to national parks and other historical sites may come across a fossil or an artifact and decide to take it home as a souvenir. Unfortunately, because millions of people move through these places every year, it's virtually impossible to curb the loss.

Ooh, ooh, I wanna lie about being in pain!

According to Jezebel, Fibromyalgia Syndrome is a big ol' fake disease. Y'know, FMS sufferers really just don't want to work, don't want to do anything productive. We want to sit on our asses all day and be lazy. So we just make up some symptoms.

I understand that it's hard to take someone seriously when they say they have an illness yet you can't see any physical manifestation of said illness. It happens a lot when someone has a temporary handicap sign to hang on their rearview mirror, yet they get out of the car and seem perfectly ambulatory. The automatic assumption is to jump to conclusions and say that they don't need that sign, they don't need that assistance. Same thing happens when I'm using my cane on bad days. It's also hard to believe that someone is ill when they're still functioning.

But that's the nature of FMS, as well as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. We (those of us who have it/them) look perfectly healthy. On some days, we even act like we're healthy and nothing is wrong with us. But what a lot of healthy people don't see are the bad days, the days we can't get out of bed, or if we do get out of bed we're only going to the couch. They don't see the days we're stiff and sore, the days it hurts just to be touched by a loved one, the days we can barely eat, the days we really just want to curl up into a ball and die. It's intensely frustrating, and intensely disheartening to live with this.

If you're one of the "lucky" few to have CFS in co-morbidity, you're also prone to sleeping all the time (when you can fall asleep/stay asleep at all), and still feeling like you only got one hour. You may have gotten eight straight, but your body doesn't give a crap.

We're stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially in regards to being employed. I work in the food service industry, and on the days I'm barely mobile, I can't exactly call in and say I'm not coming into work. This is especially true because while I may seem like I'm fine, I'm mostly just internalizing my pain and suffering so that I don't have people asking me if I'm okay a million times an hour. But it's those days that end up hurting me the most, because I have to push myself in order to function, and by pushing myself I'm just screwing myself up further. I'm using energy that I don't even have to spare.

Add in semi-sleepless nights and difficulty falling asleep, with numerous random awakenings, and it's a huge recipe for disaster. By not getting enough sleep, my body's ability to deal with pain is decreased. Then pain makes it harder to sleep, and I get even less rest, and the cycle is just continued.

I sometimes wonder if I was covered in bruises, some visible sign of infirmity, would people believe me? Would they maybe think twice about asking me to do physically challenging things at work? I say covered in bruises because that's usually how I feel. Today, for example, it feels like someone has been punching me in my side ribs. Earlier tonight, I couldn't scratch an itch on my left bicep because the pressure on my skin was too painful.

It's so easy for healthy, cynical people to say that FMS/CFS don't exist. It doesn't affect them, so why should they care?

Unfortunately, there really isn't any way to make them care, other than magically giving them these illnesses, and that's just cruel. But I think it's just as cruel that we're treated as pariahs because we're seeking help in managing our pain and trying to live normal lives.

I'm such a girl

As much as I bluster and act like I'm a badass, I am completely undone by sappy love stories.

You see, I'm a romantic at heart. I love a good love story, one where true love prevails in the end, no matter what happens. Even if it's a cartoon, I love it (I always bawl at the end of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I can't help it.

We saw Disney's Enchanted last night, and I couldn't believe how much I loved it. I loved that the happy princess, who'd never been angry in her life, realizes that there's more to life than breaking into song and talking to her animal friends. I loved that the hardbitten NYC divorce lawyer opens his eyes and sees how wonderful life can be if you don't take it for granted. And that the little girl got a real princess for a mother.

And of course that, in the end, everyone lived happily ever after.

The cynic I say that I am cringes, looking for the nearest exit, but it won't find one. I got my own happily ever after, and I love to see others get it, too, even if it's just a movie.

The music was great, too, and I was digging on the costumes at the Kings and Queens Ball. I secretly love dresses and would find it completely awesome to dress up like that. Or maybe I just watch too much Highlander.

Some days are worse than others

I've been a pessimist for a good portion of my life, at least all of my adult life and for most of my childhood. Yes, children aren't supposed to be pessimists, but when your stepfather is abusive, there's not much to hope for.

Anyway, today was a bad day. Well, yesterday was, too. I didn't even touch Lady E, and only added a sentence or two to finish my current fanfic. Other than that, I was on the couch all day.

Today was started off by a nightmare of recurring fears of abandonment and followed by feeling completely defeated. I have a hard time seeing in myself the successes and the things I've managed to change for the good. Instead, I focus on the failures and obsess about what I want to be able to do but am limited in doing because of my health, both mental and physical.

In these funks, my husband is really the only saving grace. Sometimes he does the typical man thing of trying to fix the problem, telling me what I can do to feel better. Today, though, he took me by the hand and gave me concrete examples of what I'm doing, of how I'm changing for the better. With tears in my eyes, I accepted it.

And I think that's where a lot of my grief comes from: not accepting myself. I'm not saying that I should settle for anything, rather that I'm not willing to see the good things in myself. Sometimes it takes someone holding up a metaphorical mirror for me to see.

I always have to make things complicated

After frogging the Lady E shawl twice (and having to start over a third time because I tore the yarn in my anger) yesterday, I finally figured it out today.

Here's where I was stuck:

Once finishing the base row, I had to make a triangle. At one point, the directions say to knit to the last stitch, make one, and knit one. I hate ambiguous wording like that, because I've seen it mean more than one thing. Sometimes it's knit until you have one stitch left, make one and knit that one. Sometimes it me?ans knit until you have no more stitches, make one and knit the one you just picked up.

I was doing the former, and I did that every time before I ended up frogging. Out of frustration I tried the latter option tonight, and it worked. I'm now almost done with the first of the first tiers.

Why do I always have to make things more difficult for myself?

Lady Eleanor

So, I bought yarn for Lady Eleanor today. The overwhelming majority of knitters at Ravelry have chosen Noro Silk Garden as their yarn of choice. While beautiful, it's also about $12 a skein, and LE calls for 10 skeins to complete the shawl. Uh, that's a bit pricey, y'know?

My lovely LYS owner pointed me in the direction of Plymouth Yarn Boku (colorway 7). $7 a skein. That's much, much better.

I have to go to the library (hell, I'm so pumped I might go back out tonight) to pick up the Scarf Style book. I know it'll take me months and months to make this project, but that's okay. I don't have to compete with anyone to get it done, it's for me.

The Ropes and Ladders scarf is on hold so I can start Lady E.

ETA: The total for today's yarn escapade was $93.91. $18 of that was an Addi Turbo circular needle.

Lady Eleanor

Why must I always want to make the most difficult things?

Gallery of Lady Eleanor scarves.

Christmas Joy

My mother, apparently listening to me extol the virtues of a LYS that I love, got me a gift certificate for $50.

Yarn Mecca*, here I come.

*No, that's not the name of the store (Artistic Needles is), but that's how I refer to it.