What Identifies You?

DineBoo says: Sorry about the long delay updating this blog everyone! I was trying to move this blog over to my new domain, but I realized I don't want to lose all my posts. If anyone knows how to move posts from Blogger to another blogging software like Wordpress, drop me a line.

Mr. Salt is now an International Kokopelli of Mystery.

He has just returned from his first international trip to Zurich, Switzerland for his job. I was so jealous. But I did get Swiss Chocolate out of it. (Yum!)

Being that this was his first international trip, he had to get a passport. Since he was in a rush he had to get it expedited, so that meant chasing down all the needed paperwork identifying himself.

While most people have a driver's license, a birth certificate, a social security card, and maybe a Selective Service card that identifies them, Mr. Salt has one other important piece of information.

His CIB. Otherwise known as the Certificate of Indian Blood.

On this thin piece of paper, Mr. Salt's CIB indicates his name, his degree of Navajo blood (4/4 or full blooded Navajo), and census number from the Tribal Roll as recorded by the Navajo Nation.

The CIB is very important. Being recorded shows that you are a recognized member of the Navajo Nation. It also allows you access to all the Tribal programs(such as free health care) when you need it.

When Mr. Salt and I have our Zhindians, they will be recorded as 2/4 degree Navajo (or one half Navajo). If I recall correctly, the Navajo Nation, by its laws, records people starting at 1/4 Navajo, but that may have changed.

As of the date on Mr. Salt's CIB(February 1980), there were around 200,000 Navajos on the Tribal Rolls. This number has grown by now.

-DineBoo

P.S. Officially, the document is called the Certificate of Navajo Indian Blood, but those on the Rez(and my husband) call it the CIB. Some even know their CIB Roll Number by heart.

Oh, The (Body) Hair Drama

This post was inspired by Kate Harding's guest blog about facial hair. Check it out here.

As you all know, I have PCOS. While it's major affect on the body is no ovulation, it does cause other symptoms, which include difficulty losing weight, and excess body hair.

Ah, the body hair. As I look at myself right now, it's time for a Veet session.

Prior to my diagnosis, I've always tended to be hairy. Now PCOS just exacerbates it. I've got hair everywhere: Arms, legs, upper lip, chin, and other places I don't care to mention.

Somedays it bothers me, somedays it doesn't. My chin hairs fortunately grow weirdly horizontal instead of down. Which makes them less noticeable. Mr. Salt doesn't mind it too much...except when he calls my chin hairs "billy goat" hairs. Thanks, dear. He also says this in Navajo, though I can't recall the spelling for it.

So now it's time for a Veet session. I use Veet because Nair burns me, and I don't like shaving. I slather two formulas on: The new shower version for my legs, and the pump version that I use for everything else. All this usually entails me sitting in the restroom for about twenty minutes, since Mr. Salt has a sensitive nose and doesn't like the smell. I jump in the shower afterwords.

I usually do this about once or twice a month. I probably should do it every weekend, but like I said, it doesn't bother me that much. But if I do have a major event to go to, I do Veet then. And I do Veet my underarms more often just for hygenie sakes.

Just another day in the life of a womn with PCOS.

-DineBoo

P.S. Great quote of the day from Mr. Salt:

Mr. Salt: I'm just an Indian trying to live in the White Man's World.

A tale of two Kims

My first name is Kim.

My best gal pal's name is Kim.

Our husbands (Mr. Salt and P) work at the same company.

Kim and I used to work at the same company (a different one).

Conversations between our husbands go something like this:

P: My Kim said to tell your Kim to call my Kim this evening.
Mr.Salt: My Kim to call your Kim. Got it.

Here's a bonus:
Our group used to have another Kim(before she moved), who photographed me and Mr. Salt's wedding. We were called 'Double Stuff" since she was white, and me and Kim were black.

Confused yet?

-DineBoo

P.S. Random quote from Mr. Salt:

DB: (While watching Major League) Is Chief Wahoo the name of the mascot for the Cleveland Indians?
Mr. Salt: Hey, just because I'm Indian, doesn't mean I know that!

Got a question for us? Leave them in comments, and I'll see if Mr. Salt will answer some.
-DB

I write, therefore I am

Picture this:

Mr. Salt and I in the Books section of a Walmart in Mesquite, Texas a few weeks back.

Like I usually do, I take a look at some of Romance book summaries. I'm not into reading a lot of romances(mysteries, fantasy, and action novels are my thing), but I do have two Romance authors that I like. I pick up a book. It's a romance between a Native American and a white woman. I talk about the summary. Mr. Salt goes on to have a nice little rant:

DineBoo: Babe, check this out: "The warrior must claim this 'honey haired goddess...'

Mr. Salt: What? Honey haired goddess? Why does the woman always have to be white? Couldn't she be black? And why is the Indian always Sioux or Cheyenne? Where are the Navajo and the Utes?

DineBoo: Maybe I can write it someday. I do have the real thing. Why don't you grow your hair out for me?

Mr. Salt: Aaayyy!

Sometimes I can't believe that sort of stuff is still being written. The women is pure, light, and white (usually oppressed someway) and here comes the mythical Indian who will save her! It falls into that line that views Native Americans as one tribe or entity. Or, they are the savages that must be tamed. And to think we blacks have image problems!

This isn't a rant against romance per se. I'm a writer, or try to be. I love to write. I hope to have a novel published someday. I'm working on it now, after months of fininally figuring out a plot. It's a fantasy/mystery thing, merging two of my favorite genres. As my writing alter ego on the net, I write romances for practice.

I can't really condemn the novel having not read it, but if it's anything like the novels I have seen discussed, I won't be surprised.

But for me, I want to finish something. It never seems like I get past the first chapter. I'm great at writing myself into corners, or forgetting the plot. Hopefully, this time will be different.

-DineBoo

The Dreaded Two Week Wait

Last night I had a very vivid dream.

I was taking my infant son (or daughter, couldn't really tell) to the doctor along with Mr. Salt. The baby was light skinned (around the coloring of my sister-in-law and Mr. Salt during the winter) with really curly black hair. What I remember the most was the eyes. Dark big eyes. Must have came from my side of the family.

It wasn't the dreaded/hoped for fish dream, but I'll take what I can get.

As I stated in the title, I'm in what the "trying to conceive" community calls the Two Week Wait. That period of time after ovulation where you can't test for pregnancy for two weeks (or one week and some change, depending on the test). It's a very interesting time. You either obsess about every little possible pregnancy sign, or count down the days on calender.

Myself, I'm trying to stay neutral. I've had so many BFNs (Big Fat Negative on a pregnancy test, another term from the TTC community) that I'm rather wary about testing myself. The kicker is that I have to test myself if I consider myself late since I have to have a negative test before I start a cycle inducing drug. Luckily, I haven't had to take that drug since I've started on my own (Yay!).

But its really getting to the point where I don't want to buy the blasted sticks anymore. Every negative result chips away at you, and it gets to the point where you just want to get it over with. I don't really test with Mr. Salt is around, though he wants to be there sometimes. He's really seeing my disappointment now, and I don't want to compound things. We're already breaking Navajo cultural taboo with his extensive knowledge of my cycles.

But don't worry. I've resolved that if/when I get a possible BFP (Big Fat Positive) on a test, he'll be involved with the test that confirms it.

-DineBoo

The BZA Weight Loss Challenge!

Even though Mr. Salt and I started on Atkins/Low Carb about two weeks ago, we had measured ourselves prior to that. So since it was the beginning of a new month, I thought it was time to drag out the tape measure and see if anything has changed. And guess what?

I've lost 11 inches! And since I've started (and restarted) Atkins induction, I've lost 6 pounds in two weeks! I'm very pleased.

You know, I thought I'd be miserable with Atkins as I was with South Beach when I tried that a couple of years ago, but I'm not. I'm thinking I just needed the fat, which South Beach restricted. So now I'm enjoying Mushroom Soup made with real cream, cheese (plenty of string cheese. It helps), and lean cuts of meat. This had also helped me my medications, as Metmorphin is notorious for is gastric disturbances if you don't eat low carb, so this is great.

I still miss my pasta, but I can sacrifice that (and even get the low carb versions) for now.

Mr. Salt is doing well with Atkins. I can see his weight loss in his pants. Lucky. Guys have it way easier.

Question: Does anyone out there want to do some weight loss blogging/challenges together? It doesn't have to be Atkins. I want to be held accountable, and I want to up my blogging posts.

Goals for May:

• Stay on induction for at least another week.
• Drink more water.
• Exercise more.
• Find some more good recipes.

That's it for now. Thanks for all your comments, and welcome newcomers! Blogger wouldn't let me reply to some comments for some reason.

-DineBoo

P.S. Happy Anniversary to me! Mr. Salt and I have been married for one year this past April 21st. Sure doesn't feel like it. I love you, sweetie! Aaay!

P.P.S. Check out this video for some weight loss inspiration. It inspired Mr. Salt:

Pills, pills, pills...

Again, TMI warning.

After much research(thanks ChelB for the website), I've finally plotted which pills to take in order to restore some balance thrown out of whack by PCOS. Here's what I'm taking thus far.

• Metmorphin (for insulin resistance)
• Vitex/Chaseberry (to get my female hormones balanced so I don't need Progesterone pills to start my cycle)
• Black Cohosh (for hormones and to help with my cycle. I get terrible cramps now that I'm off the pill)
• Multivitamin (for diet and folic acid)
• Mucinex (thins out the mucus...everywhere)

All pills except for the Mucinex and multivitem, I'm taking twice a day. I need to take my Metmorphin three times a day, but I have to work up to it (and remember to take it).

Pill total: 8. Yikes!

Now that I'm doing low carb, my Metmorphin doesn't bother me as much. Which is a good thing.

I wonder if I should throw in some corn pollen, too...

-DineBoo

Glad to see ya!

TMI warning for the post, just in case.

Here's a conversation I had with Mr. Salt the other day:

DB: No zhindians this month...But at least my cycle started.
Mr. Salt: That's good.
DB: Must be the corn pollen.
Mr. Salt: You know, shi ma(SaltMama, Mr. Salt's mom) said that some people back home on the Rez are mixing drugs with corn pollen now.
DB: ...What?
Mr. Salt: It was talked about on Navajo Hour on Rez Radio (660 KTNN-AM). Some Medicine Man was probably blessing someone with the corn pollen and they both got high.

A day in the life of being Mrs. Salt.

I've never been so glad to start on my cycle. Or to see it. Hated when I was young. Like seeing it now...though it comes with disappointment now these days. It shows that my drugs are working.

People in my PCOS post mentioned natural remedies regarding regulating one's cycle. If you're still out there, e-mail me or send me a comment about some suggested herbs to take with Metmorphin, or what to take in general. I'm really getting serious about this.

In the mean time, I'm going (and Mr. Salt too) are going low carb. Mr. Salt moreso is going on Atkins. I pretty much have to go low carb since I'm taking Metmorphin, or else I get some really interesting side effects of the gastrointestinal kind. It'll be hard...I love bread and pasta, but that may have gotten me insulin resistant in the first place.

Also, we got a used Gazelle Elite for sixty bucks (thank you Craig's List). I need to use it more, and Mr. Salt has been on it every morning. He also joined the Biggest Loser at work. Ironically, he complained about all the skinny people who do not have much or any to lose being on his team. Now I have to lose for everyone, he said.

I love my Salt.

-DineBoo

Of Zhindians and Corn Pollen

Long time no post, everyone.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Salt and I babysat for my friend's children while they took a well deserved outing out of town for their anniversary. In addition to their older boys, they are taking care of a toddler they recently gained guardianship of. The toddler pretty much knows what is expected of him, but he can leave a mess.

And boy did he.

He's potty trained pretty well, but he had an accident. And not of the first kind. The poor kid had gotten "number two" all over himself, and had attempted to hide it to no avail. Mr. Salt kindly(and promptly) gave him to me to clean up. Use it as practice, he said.

Great.

I think I did surprisingly well. After an initial gaging session (It was bright green, y'all), I cleaned him up real good and calmed him down. Not bad for a girl that didn't have younger siblings or babysat growing up.

So that the little guy wouldn't have an accident again, Mr. Salt brilliantly sent him to the bathroom on the hour. It was genius. Might have to remember that if/when we babysit again.

Later, after all that, it kinda got us thinking seriously about having zhindians. So we're getting serious. From my medication, to thermometers, and charting. I joked with Mr. Salt that he should sprinkle corn pollen on me to speed things up.

Corn is sacred to the Dine. Corn pollen symbolizes the birth or start of new life or new places. When we moved to our new place, I sprinkled corn pollen on all the doors and windows. Blesses our new place, and gets rid of the old ways.

Mr. Salt hasn't done it yet, but who knows....

-DineBoo

P.S. Thanks to everyone who responded on my last two posts, as well as the PCOS one. I do want to respond to them in a concise way, so be on the look out for that. -DB

Getting on my soapbox...again

Time to get on my soapbox again.

This quote comes from Halima's blog, at Black Women's IR Circle. Excuse me while I roll my eyes at some of this:

The emphasis on white men (not exclusively though) is because wm are the largest group of men available to black women. There is no getting around this fact and it would be another form of sabotaging bw relationship ambitions, to direct them towards men who are less likely to be physically available and who might also be culturally unavailable to them. I much rather focus on the 'surplus' group while also pointing out that IR means more than just black and white.

There is also a subtext to this argument. When people say 'if you cant get with bm etc, why not try Asian and Hispanic, I usually detect its simply the 'anything but a wm' argument. Its all about avoiding wm at all costs and sustianing the histporical fued with wm/the white race. Since I am really bothered little about continuing this fueding, I choose to approach the IR idea differently.

Let me also say that I do not detect from bw any strong aversion towards other non-white men if they are open to IR at all. There is indeed no historical basis for bw to have deep 'issues' with HM, AM, NAM and so there is no need for me to 'work' on bw opening themselves to these others.

A couple of comments I have to make about this.

1. White men are the surplus? Depending on where you are in America, they might be the minority. In Texas, especially where I am, Hispanics are becoming the majority. In certain parts of New Mexico and Arizona, there are plenty of Native Americans of various tribes around. Hell, in chocolate cities, there are more black people around than white.

2. Culturally, I'm sure white men are not one homogenized group. They have their own cultures that black women have to deal with as well. Just as I must understand where Mr. Salt comes from on certain topics, as did Diva when she married her husband as well.

3. The "anyone but a white man" argument may have its points with some black women who think dating out is betraying the black race, but it is also a cop out to those who feel that the whole black women IR community is pushing white men above all other men. As I said before, we should be glad when any black women breaks the cycle and marries (or does what she wants to do with) her true love regardless of their race. We, who did not marry a white man, are not sustaining the feud with race just because of who we married. We married who we loved. And granted, while Mr. Salt and I do get the whole "Living in a white man's world" due to our understanding of what has happened to both our races (and Mr. Salt even more so), it only serves as a survival tool at best. I did not marry Mr. Salt just because I wouldn't consider white men.

4. Even though there shouldn't be any issues between black women and other minorities, it doesn't mean that they do not exist. Even certain members of Mr. Salt's clans had issues with me that they probably would not have had if I where white. I have not personally dealt with them, but I know I have Mr. Salt support at the expense of his family. Not that I would want it to come to that, of course. I also have SaltMama and Sister, so that's all it matters to me.

So in conclusion, just because I and other ladies didn't marry white, doesn't mean we had it easier, or that it's more acceptable. We still get stared at, we still get comments, and we all have issues we both have to deal with. We do not want what happened between black women and black men to happen between black women and white men just because they are presented as the only acceptable or most sought after people.

Love is for everyone, regardless of race.

-DineBoo

Politics, FaceBook, Gaming, and other stuff

While I think up another post, here are random thoughts and news:

Anyone on FaceBook? Look me up by searching for Kim Toney from the ATX. Also, anyone playing X-Box 360 games? Look for DineBoo on X-Box live. Mr. Salt is on there, too, but you have to play a mean game of Halo 3.

I am very happy that the game Mass Effect (X-Box 360) allowed me to create a black female character that kicks all kinds of ass. You rarely get this in other games. Bioware take a bow.

I may not talk politics on this blog, but I will say that Mr. Salt was very impressed that Sen. Barack Obama mentioned Native Americans in his speech accepting Sen. Ted Kennedy's endorsement.

The Salt Clan(Mr. Salt's maternal clan) is asking about future zhindians.

Anyone want to start that BW-Non white man community we've been talking about the past few weeks? I'm interested.

-DineBoo

Blog mentions and the IR Community

I was very humbled and excited to learn that my blog and my previous blog post, "Don't Leave Us Out", was mentioned in Angry Black Cat's eighth podcast! ABC and JeffG discuss the survey I was ranting about plus more. It was a great piece. Check it out here. You must be registered to listen to it.

I also received some great responses to that post. ChelB and Diva(Thanks for the comments ladies!) both expressed disappointment at feeling left out of the whole black women IR community just because they married men that weren't white.

I feel the same way at times. I got into the community relatively late because I had already married my husband prior to finding the community. As I said before, it's great that a movement has started to get black women to expand their options. But, it also feels like the IR community is pushing white men at the expense of other races.

Black women need to consider and expand all their options. Should Diva, ChelB, and myself be excluded from this movement just because our husbands aren't white? Didn't this movement get started because a majority of black women were limiting themselves to black men?

Expanding our options and finding love should be the key terms for the BW IR community. If you find love with a white man, great. If you find it with another race, that's great, too. No one should be made to feel like they're on the fringes of a community that can give great support just by the race of the man she married.

Don't ignore us

I was reading Halima's blog recently where she posted some information about a doctoral candidate surveying interracial couples. It sounded interesting, so I decided to look into it a little more. I like sharing my views.

Needless to say, I was dissapointed for the survey to narrow down who they wanted to black women/men to white men/women couples.

It points out a issue I have with the interracial community at times. While I get that they want to show black women are desirable, and that white men should be considered among their dating choices, there are other choices out there.

I didn't marry a white man. I married a Dine man. We have our own unique situations that a bw/wm couple would never face. Is my opinion any less than those who married a white man?

Sometimes I feel as though I'm on the outskirts of the whole IR movement. I bucked the statistics that said a lot of black women would stay single. And I opened my options to include other people. Shouldn't that count for something?

There are other races that should be considered for black women. White men shouldn't be the the only one. There are Hispanic, Asian, Native American and others to consider as well.

We should be telling any black women not to limit her choices to white men only. Whe should be considering all people and all races. Because we did that with black men, and look what happened to us.

Maybe I should start my own community for black women who didn't marry a white man.

-DineBoo

The Shattered Heart Effect...and the Nosy Aunt

I debated with myself if I should write this. But, I always feel better after I write, and I haven't posted in a while, so here goes.

I call it the "Shattered Heart" effect.

Mr. Salt and I visited my aunt's house for Christmas. The house was full, I was expecting my side (i.e. my mother's side) of the family to be around. But, my aunt's husband's family was there too. No big deal, just means I can't 'visit' with the family as I would like. Too many people around.

So after the obligatory hugs and kisses between my aunts (younger, whom I'm referring to now, and older, who I'll get to in a minute), grandma, and cousin, I get drawn to a side room I realized now after all this that I was trying to get away. Maybe I sensed something.

Younger Aunt: I have something to tell you.
DineBoo: What?
Y. Aunt: I'm expecting twins.

Instantly, I felt my heart literately break. The Shattered Heart Effect struck again. The Shattered Heart Effect when something causes me extreme deress.

Nobody noticed the fake smile I pasted on my face as my immediate family surrounded my younger aunt with excited tones. Nobody noticed how quiet I got, not really cotributing to the good cheer. Nobody noticed when I excused myself(twice) from the grand announcement to the rest of the family to go to the restroom and cry my heart out. Nobody noticed my red eyes, or how I clung to Mr. Salt.

I felt so alone.

I felt crushed, but so guilty. My aunt has a one year son already, and now she's having twins? I can't get just one! But why am I not happy for her? Why do look at her with envy?

This, as you can see, caused me extreme duress. Why, you ask?

PCOS.

I've talked about it here. My PCOS prevents me from having a regular cycle, and how my chances of having kids drop if I don't take the require meds.

Also, Mr. Salt and I have been wanting zhindians for a while now. This year, we're really getting serious about it. For me to have even a chance, I have to be serious about taking all my meds, even though they make me nauseous, and have some interesting side effects. Looking at my pill box, I have to take five pills a day right now, dropping to four once I induce a cycle. There's insiline resistance drugs, prenatal drugs, and progesterone to reboot the system, as I call it.

All this for a Zhindian. Which will be worth it. But now, I hurt.

And what bothers me is that no one, besides Mr. Salt, saw how hurt I was. Granted, I'm good at hiding it, but when Mr. Salt decides that leaving the celebration is good for my well being, no pings to radar went off. I guess everyone was wrapped up with the celebration to notice.

And, just when I thought my older (and the nosiest) aunt was going to ask me what's wrong (she had dragged me to a quiet room to talk), all she asks was if Mr. Salt and I were having any money problems, how long my hair is getting, and my job. If I ever thought about opening up to her, it stopped just because of it. I know my eyes were red during the whole evening.

And nobody asked why.

Sigh. I'm rambling, but tha's what blogs are for. Hopefully, I'll have good news to share someday. But for now, I'll just pray.

-DineBoo