Diary: Somewhat Daily Rambling Thoughts

July 26 2009

5:27 p.m.
Well, I’ve been doing stuff I shouldn’t. Today, I moved a 6-foot high by 3-foot wide bookcase down a flight of stairs and into my office. I did it for two reasons: 1. I hated where it was in temporary storage (the middle of my kitchen) and 2. I needed it and the books that will go on it in my office. I did a little damage to the house, but none to me, and nothing that isn’t going to be fixed, anyway, except the dings in the suspended ceiling in my office. Oops. But, when you’re on your own and need stuff, you do it.

I’ve also been painting my living room, which will, when the new carpet is installed, officially be called the music room. I’ll move all the instruments in the house into there, so we can sit and visit, or sit and play music (or some semblance thereof in my case). I’m modifying my paint plan, I think (depends how the navy looks when dry). I was going to paint a monochromatic gloss effect in stripes, but… I might opt for monochromatic random gloss patches, because the walls are far from pristine. Anything as stiff and formal as the stripes might make the flaws look all the more obvious.

And I will be glad to be done with physical therapy (even with a copay only, it adds up), and will be happy when my hand works more normally again, no restrictions. Ain’t life grand?

July 15, 2009

1:45 p.m.
Still working in my sports bra, because I hate having soapy water drip down my arms. But I have three pieces of furniture still in the living room: a coffee table, a sofa, and a chair. It seems Charlie (one of my daughter’s dogs) believes he should be sleeping in the chair. As you can see, it’s not a perfect fit:

For what it’s worth, the paper on the floor is not mine. It’s not like it matters, I’ll be removing the carpet, anyway, but my assistant who assisted on a small segment of wall does not believe in trash cans if there’s someone else who will pick up after her. That falls on me, it seems.

There is another dog (my daughter’s other one) laying beside the chair. She would actually fit in it, but Charlie got there first. I probably should not have moved so much stuff all by myself, but I have to look at the bright side: at least it’s exercise.

July 14, 2009

9:21 p.m.
So, working in a sports bra to strip wallpaper seemed okay by  daylight, but now at night when I have nothing blocking the windows, I’m not so sure. And especially when I’m singing and  dancing along with music that might have questionable lyrics. Oh, well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!

July 13, 2009

9:43 a.m.
The time has come and now is. I’ve got the second door in my living room hung, I need to install the doorknob and paint the door. The instructions are clear on the door-hanging instructions: do not do this alone. I not only did it alone, I did it alone with  substantial injury. It’s amazing how hard it is to find anyone who’s willing to help (plenty of people are able).

So, I do it myself. I just have to be more creative and resourceful. Fortunately, my creative mind is alive and well. But I need to start being more like the Little Red Hen. When others aren’t there for me, I need to stop being there for them. It’s easy  to say, hard to do, because I have the problem of being a generally kind and decent person. More people have abused it than cherished it, that decency of mine.

But, I am going to start trusting that there are people out there who will honor and respect me. And until then, I’m going to honor and respect myself. Someone has to!

July 11, 2009

7:48 a.m.
Am I tempting fate? On May 22, I was installing a door in my living room (it was successful), and there was a contractor doing work at the house across the street. He was my ride to the hospital.

I started installing the other living room door yesterday afternoon, and… another contractor is working at the house across the street. Some situations begin to feel almost ominous, but I’m still going to do what I have to do.

If you want a house for a mere $400,000, last I knew, that was the asking price. New roof, being painted now, extensive work inside so it’s move-in ready.

And yes, I am being careful.

July 6, 2009

6:47 p.m.
Watching Murder By Numbers with my daughter. I have a lot of movies left to watch, but she’s going to help me catch up. It’s actually a bit enjoyable. So, a note to all my friends out there, watch movies with me, especially if there are good ones I’ve missed (which is most movies). Need to catch up on life.

And at 7:39, my friend texted me to tell me the same movie is on HBO. How weird is that?

July 4, 2009

7:51 a.m.
Today I celebrate my child. Sure, it’s a holiday, but in my world, my kid comes first. We’ll see fireworks, weather permitting, but mostly we’ll celebrate her. Happy birthday, sweet girl!

July 3, 2009

4:42 p.m.
Other people are complaining that it’s hotter than hell, and here I am in a room that’s 59°, and I’m a little chilly. I almost feel guilty, but… not quite. I’m doing paperwork, but it’s actually feeling kind of good. I feel pretty good doing stuff for me for a while! I’ll have to do more of this!

2:25 p.m.
I am learning why I am in the state I’m in (although I’m working to undo it). I keep stuff that I intend to deal with or plan to read for way too long. Newsletters from schools from five years ago? When my kid has graduated? WHY is that in my folders? I am doing purging, but it takes a while. There is a curse to being in a home for a long time. Moving leads to reevaluation. I need to clean as if I were moving, then stay put. Slow and steady, one-handed, doing it by myself and for myself, but when I’m done, I can truly be pleased with myself and thankful for the results.

So much stuff I thought I wanted to read, and I did want to read back when I had a boring life without stimulating things to fill it. But now, I have to choose my activities more wisely. People and things have to pass though filters to determine their value to me and some that used to fit in will not do so any longer. C’est la vie. They’ll cope.

This is the las night my child is a minor. Tomorrow, she becomes a legal adult. What a long, strange trip it’s been…

July 2, 2009

9:09 a.m.
Who knew? Who could have guessed? My finger is numb and cold, very cold, but… I can use two hands to fold laundry. It’s almost therapeutic. What a simple joy! And holding a dustpan! I haven’t been able to sweep right for six weeks, but now I almost can. Healing feels pretty darn good!

July 1, 2009

8:57
The year is officially halfway over, and… wow, I’ve got to get some exciting things accomplished in the second half. I haven’t achieved any of what I hoped for. I’m not where I planned to be, but… at least I’m not dead. There’s still hope!

And I wonder… does Al Gore watch South Park’s ManBearPig episode? I think being parodied, even if it’s humiliating, shows that you’ve made it to some level of fame that most of us will never attain. I’d watch and laugh at myself!

June 30, 2009

11:30 a.m.
Four hours after they dod the other side of the street, my trash was picked up! Sad reflection on life when this is the best thing that’s happened in a while…

7:39 a.m.
Thank you to the neighbor who noisily rolled the curbside dumpster to the curb this morning. It was a bit late, but it reminded me that I had opted to not move the trash out early (because my neighboer is selling her house; it was a visual courtesy from one who can’t do her house paintng and yard work—enough is enough!), and had forgotten to move it at all. Not sure I was on time, but I’m hoping. I hadn’t put it out for a week or two and it was very full, so I genuinely am thankful. At this moment, it is a sarcasm-free zone.

I have been in training classes where we were informed that sarcasm is always violent. I am skeptical. What if it’s flirty? What if it’s playful? Is that violent, too? I know sometimes it’s just cruel, but I suspect that’s not always the case.

June 14, 2009

1:40 p.m.
They called the Titanic unsinkable. This thing I saw on the ground yesterday reminded me of that, on a smaller and much less tragic scale.

June 9, 2009

4:16 p.m.
I’ve been giving surgery updates on my main page and doing nothing here, because typing is so hard with one hand. I’m in a splint for a while longer. Joys of that one moment when I slipped!

May 27, 2009

9:14 p.m.
I have surgery on my hand in a little over ten hours. I have no idea what to expect from it. I will be awake, with a nerve block on my arm. The took blood to test my potassium level. This is where they took the one vial—messy work!

Yes, redheads might bleed more, but still… one vial? Sure is strange. Anyway, I won’t be posting again until after surgery, when I may be even more restricted than I am now. Now  I have 8 or 9 fingers I can use for typing. I might have the same, or as few as 5 tomorrow. We shall see. A little anxious!

May 20, 2009

6:12 p.m.
Cell phone picture, sorry for the bad resolution. But here is a picture of what I’ve been working on all day to pet-proof the first of my formal rooms (two doors each, so I’ll be working for a long while, but it will be worth it!) It was formerly just an opening, not square, not level, just the frame that still exists. I put in trim to make a formal doorframe from it, then did the other adjustments for a long time. Yes, the directions say not to do it alone. But I’m Tonka tough enough, I guess. The curtain on the right that you see a snippet of is velvet, lined with moire. In some places, there were 13 layers of velvet, but my sewing machine was apparently tough enough, too. I should sell my services to do home repairs and make curtains…

I’ve got a bit more to do on it, but it’s fully functional, which is the big thing! Exciting times. One more for the living room, then two for the dining room (from which I I took the picture, so that view will change soon). I don’t actually have the dining room doors, but I will. When I can come up with the $80 each (WAY cheaper than buying a whole door assembly—even without glass). And way way cheaper than buying all new flooring, which will be mandatory if the pets keep ruining it.

11:56 a.m.
I have a new favorite song, by the band Red, from the album Instinct & Innocence, the ninth track, “Ordinary World.”

I quote a segment of it below.

Where is the life that I recognize, gone away

And I won’t cry for yesterday

there’s an ordinary world somehow I have to find

And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world

I will learn to survive

Taking some time for me to learn how to survive. It feels good.

May 18, 2009

11:08 a.m.
My neighbor just stopped to give me a gift. He heard my lawnmower was broken, and had an extra taking up space, so he gave it to me with instructions on its eccentricities and quirks. Tomorrow, I’ll be mowing the lawn for the first time this year, thanks to a neighbor who takes pity on a girl. I am amazingly grateful. And yes, I almost cried, because I’m not used to people doing things like that for me. I need to remember this when I’m more solidly on my feet again. It’s a good example to follow.

May 16, 2009

7:58 p.m.
Today a piece of me is dying. I’m going about business as usual while my daughter packs all her belongings to move away. She is almost 18, there is not much I can do to stop her, as much as I want to shake her and tell her she’s being foolish. But I refrain, because I can’t make her mistakes for her; she has to make them for herself.

And as I go about my business as usual, I’m gritting my teeth so hard that my face is hurting me. Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, and sometimes is hard enough that we feel dead inside. But we survive all these things, big and small, and the wise ones tell us it makes us stronger. I guess there’s some wisdom in knowing that being broken, you can be put back together again, but I don’t think you go back the same way, and I’m not convinced you even come out better than you were. You just come out with patches on your heart.

But maybe we come out softer, more compassionate, more forgiving. We ought to, or we’re doing it wrong. Maybe “that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” is a different kind of strength, a kind that makes us see things in ways that others can’t. It is strange to plan a whole new life as one person living alone with a rational number of pets (hers are going with her) and a big house with room for everything I might want to do. Like John Denver sang, I’m going home to a place I’ve never been before.

May 14, 2009

4:46 a.m.
If you awaken at 4:00 a.m. to do work before you head out for the day, and the weather is nice, the birds are awake with you and serenade you as you work. It’s very soothing and beautiful to hear the sounds of nature while you analyze passive vs. active voice (which is fine in casual writing, but not so much in professional), and verify that the right words are used, and the verb tense is consistent.

But the birds don’t sing this way by day. Or else life in general masks the sounds. It’s pretty, this orchestral performance with varying rhythms all at the same time, and different performers taking turns with their solos. It isn’t so bad if they sing in different keys, because it works. It’s almost tempting to wake up to hear this every day. But only almost.

May 13, 2009

7:06 a.m.
I am getting myself emotionally ready for an interview today, leaving in a few minutes, actually. At 8:00 a.m., I’m talking to a young woman about an internship for the fall, to help prepare me for my job in the real world, when I have that. I might do well in school, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do well in the workforce. I want to ensure that I have the tools I need to be successful. This is a start.

I haven’t been on an interview in quite a while, and I haven’t practiced, because… well, I’d be doing it alone, and who knows what they’ll ask. Mostly, I’ll be who I am, and if who I am works for them, we’ll be fine. But I’m still a little nervous! Not overwhelmingly, but a touch.

May 10, 2009
Mother’s Day

12:12 p.m.
Ahh, Mother’s Day, a chance to be good to some of the amazing women in my life.

For the first time in forever, I got my inbox (email, not paper mail yet) to zero. I have just come up from my food prep and cleaning to check for anything vital (nothing), and empty the spam filter. I found my favorite new bombarding spam subject:

Have a stiffy in a jiffy!!!

Yeah, it makes me laugh. I like to laugh. You either laugh about the crap or cry, and I’m ready to laugh. A lot. There’s too much fun to be had to worry about nonsense, even when it’s our kids who give the nonsense. At a certain point (I’m there), you have to let them be the people they want to be, even if those people aren’t very likable. We form them, but we don’t do it all. They take what they’re given and make their choices, whether we like it or not.

May 7, 2009

10:47 p.m.
A visual description of how I feel: I am not sure if I’m developing conjunctivitis or else it’s just sinus pressure. I’ve been, from time to time, with someone who’s sick, so I’m not sure the source of the congestion, head cold or allergy. But it feels as if someone could drill a hole in my left cheek, grab the end with tweezers, and pull out a long coiled string. It would pull and pull until it pulled away the bit that connects to my eye, and then I’d be all clear again.

This may sound like an odd thing to imagine, but my face was drilled before. Admittedly, I was asleep for it, but still, it’s not such a foreign idea. I feel as if something is coiled in there, and if it could be unwound, my eye would be freed and it would clear right up. This is, of course, absurd. It hurt when I drilled my finger.

I won’t do it, but I want to.

May 4, 2009

8:22 p.m.
It keeps getting better! I’ve got me some hot plans for the 14th! This is all very exciting. I’m going with a friend to Plimouth Plantation, Plymouth Rock, and the Mayflower II. We’re bringing cameras and journals, and curious spirits. We’ll see what is revealed to us. Sure we’ll see the tourist stuff, but there might be little things there, little extras, and getting out with a friend makes such a difference! I am utterly thrilled.

3:13 p.m.
Done! I have finished my semester, I’m now officially a graduate student (particularly if I can come up with some seriously large sums of cash to pay for it before classes start).  But the semester has ended, I just need to get back my paper and grades, and I’ll be a happy camper.  I hope (as long as the grades are good). Interview next week for my fall internship, which will hopefully go well and be a good fit.

I’m going to take a while, maybe my whole life, to find the answers to things, why I am the way I am, why I’m here, what I should be doing to make the world a better place, me a better person, and the people I know and love better for my having been here. I may not have many years on the planet, who’s to say?  But I want to be intentional about how I live it, most of the time.  Sometimes I want to relax. And if I’m lucky, I might get to snuggle now and again.

But for now, I’ll be looking and listening, to people, to things, to voices I might hear. Inspiration comes from many sources and in many ways. Part of the joy of life is finding what path we should be on.

I just need to decide if I should get right to work, or if I should take a nap…

May 2, 2009

1:52 p.m.
It’s a beautiful spring day.  It was supposed to be raining, so I wouldn’t have minded staying in and studying, which I should be doing.  Instead, it’s sunny, and I want to try to force my table saw into compliance.  So far, no luck.  My somewhat modest (until I actually start doing it, I’m sure) goal for the day is to remove all the old vertical trim on the front windows (10 pieces in total), cut new, replace it, and pull out all five of the old storm windows, which are a bit of a nuisance, and possibly a bit dangerous to do on a roof.

But, if my table saw refuses to comply, I’ll have a very hard time using a hand-held circular saw to get the width right on the trim pieces, because 47 inches is a long way to cut straight, especially for one like me who’s inclined to try to make it move faster.  The blade on the table saw is currently at 45° and it will not budge!  I know it wasn’t long ago I put it there, so that makes it all the more infuriating.  If it had been years or months instead of a couple of weeks, its reluctance would make more sense.  Probably need another set of hands (although I was smart enough to unplug it, because I was holding the blade to try to make it comply).

But, be that as it may, I am going to make myself do some reading for the final on Tuesday so I’m not trying to read an impossible amount of dry text on Monday night and Tuesday morning.  If I get through five chapters today, I should be set, in theory.  Five chapters may actually be impossible.  Maybe I should pretend I’m smart and imagine that it’s raining and I’d only be able to do the door, anyway.  Hmmm… sounds like it might be wise.  Go back to fighting with the saw a different day!

And who knows?  I may yet have some exciting plans for the weekend, so I want to have the tedium behind me!

May 1, 2009

8:44 a.m.
Here’s the marvelous word combination for today (there was more yesterday):

Top Searches

redheads,  ugly redhead woman

Why DO people look for things like this?  Is it fun to make fun of others?  Feel better because they’re so awesomely attractive, unlike us peons who are defective because we lack that magical elusive beauty, which is hardly a character trait?

Gotta love it!  Well, no, we really don’t have to.  And no, I really don’t.  But if that’s all you’ve got going for you, you’d better pray you never grow old, because beauty WILL fade, and plastic surgery is hardly the answer.  You’d better hope you’ve got some character to back it all up.

April 30, 2009

8:36 p.m.
The old diary wouldn’t let me enter anything else (I have since forced it into compliance). Must be because someone did a search for “ugly redhead girl” and came to my page, it was punishing me or something.  Yes, that’s true.  So I figured I’d write up something new.

I am cursing my limitations at birth.  I have only two sets of hands.  If I had more, I’d be able to do a few of the jobs I need to get done.  I need help installing my storm door, but I’m alone, completely.  I need help raising my ladder, same problem.  If only I had more hands, I could do all the things I need help with and truly be independent, instead of just not being able to do them, which is depressing.

But I guess I shall persevere.  I’ll find a way, or kill myself trying.  I’ve been wondering lately… if I died in my sleep, who would notice?  And how long until anyone noticed?  Would anyone notice?  Just things I wonder.

April 29, 2009

8:54 p.m.
A song is buzzing through my head a lot lately.  It’s “Galileo” by the Indigo Girls.  I’m putting in a snippet of the lyrics here.  I have the song on several CDs.

Galileo’s head was on the block,
the crime was looking up the truth.
And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth.

And then you had to bring up reincarnation
over a couple of beers the other night.
And now I’m serving time for mistakes
made by another in a another lifetime.

And that’s how I feel.  Kind of like I’m being punished for things someone else did.  And like the people who should care about me most are, at best, indifferent, or downright malicious.  I’m not sure what I’ve done, but apparently it’s quite bad.  Maybe in my next life I’ll get it right, but maybe not.

It’s not much consolation to be assured by professionals that I’m doing things right, because it doesn’t seem to make a difference.

Guess I should turn to the right source for answers (same source, “Galileo,” Indigo Girls):

How long till my soul gets it right?
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light?
I call on the resting soul of Galileo
King of night vision, king of insight.

Galileo faced persecution and excommunication for speaking the truth.  The amazing thing is that, in 1992, the Roman Catholic Church, in their wisdom, saw fit to pardon Galileo because (egads!), he had spoken the truth!  He was right!  Over three hundred years later, the church deemed him worthy.  How good of them.  Really.

April 27, 2009

5:32 p.m.
I have been back at school now for two years.  Seems like less sometimes, but when I remember all I’ve done and learned, I believe it.  I’ve gotten straight As.  I got 100% in statistics for the behavioral sciences.  I do work hard.  I have never celebrated anything about school with anyone.  Every straight-A report card is just an average thing.  Getting accepted, no big deal.  Getting into graduate school, no big deal.  I get a “congratulations” at most.

I have my last final of the semester on May 5.  I want to celebrate.  I think I’ve worked hard for it, I’ve earned a celebration.  I want something other than indifference.  So, I’m going to find it, I guess.  Not sure where or who, but I’ll find it.  It’s time to allow myself to feel good about something, no matter what others might say.  I think I’m worth it—and so much more, too!  I deserve to be treated well, dagnabbit!

April 24, 2009

10:27 p.m.
My energy is officially gone.  I know because tonight a dear friend told me she knew I wasn’t okay because of my eyes.  She said I looked beautiful, but my sparkle was gone.  Need to get my sparkle back.  Not sure how or when that might happen, though.  That’s life.  But for now, I’ll have to wear sparkly jewelry to compensate (yeah, it’s all fake—except the stuff that isn’t, but I won’t be likely to wear that.  It’s not as fun).

April 22, 2009

11:14 a.m.
I think what I’d like to do is have enough money to own a vacation home and rent it out except when I want to use it, so it can pay for itself.  That won’t happen this week, though.  Or this year.  But I’d like it.  A lot.

April 21, 2009

5:14 p.m.
In 48 hours, I will have presented my research paper.  The problem, of course, is that  I haven’t written it.  Okay, I have written 17 of a minimum requirement of 15.  I’ve got some writing in all areas.  I’ve got most of my references perfect, and I have not plagiarized, because I don’t do that.  It’s rather lame to take someone else’s words or ideas and claim them as my own.  If I can’t come up with my own information, and acknowledge that I do a lot of research, that is a sad, sad state of affairs.

So, tonight I’m going to try to force myself to write my paper, and tomorrow I’ll crunch the last of the numbers, and then I’ll be able to relax and prepare my 7-minute (timed) presentation.  I typically like to use graphics and sound effects, keep things interesting, but because this is psychology, and we have to be serious (yes, we have to write in the passive voice, which eats me up inside), I suspect I shall need to be dry, or more dry than I’d like to be.  I’ve given classroom presentations that people recalled years later, which surprises me, but… hey, that’s not a bad thing!

If you can send a little inspiration my way, I’ll gladly take it.  I am in short supply these days.  I need some time away to revive, or at least a massage.  For now, though, I’ll settle for just writing up a swell paper that will get me an A.  That’s my goal, anyway.  I’ve got some work to do, though.  Ugh!

April 17, 2009

8:52 p.m.
I got only teensy sections of the house painted.  Too many appointments to do a lot, and really, it’s a lot of house to paint.  I had damage to patch and such.  I like the color, not sure about the gloss, but… I’ll get my test section done and the two people who matter can decide.

My neighbors have hated my house color for seven years now.  I’ve had people ask me when I’ll change it, why it’s the color it is, why we can’t just blend in with all the other bland colors (grey, oatmeal, white, pastel yellow— soft, soothing, monotonous, lifeless).  Well, I’m changing it.  But it’s no less bold.  It is, however, NOT a color my ex-husband picked, which works in its favor.  That and red is a warm color.

Plus, on a day like today, it would have been a waste to sit in my basement and work on paperwork.  I can do that on a cold, rainy day, or after dark, or… sometime.  Today, I wanted the fresh air, even if I had to avoid direct exposure to sunlight (redheads have pale skin that tends to burn, then peel and turn white again—no tanning for me).

Tomorrow, I will try to just finish the small test section, but I might post some pictures because I can.

April 16, 2009

8:24 p.m.
Today we bought paint to test on the house.  Tomorrow I’ll be painting a section to see if we’ll go with the color.  Yes, it is red.  It is Valspar Ruby Red.  Our trim is white, and will always be white because my porch has composite railings and posts and such that are molded white, so no way am I changing that.  The shutters will be kettle black.  It’s very exciting.  So that’s what I’ll be doing for a while.  I’ve painted my house twice before, every time a different color.

April 13, 2009

9:51 a.m.
My survey is not progressing as far as I’d like.  I’ve got a lot of results, but I wanted more, just so I could say the results represented something.  It’s been interesting, and some of what people will tell me is amazing (and some have sent personal emails telling me about their masturbation, and how filling out the survey made them horny (?))

But, alas, it’s not where I had hoped it would be.  So, if you read this and haven’t filled it out, take a minute to do that please!  Thanks so much!

http://198.104.144.95/lisa/survey_01.html

That’s the marvelous link!

April 6, 2009

12:46 p.m.
I post only a picture of my eyes to say how things have been lately.  Desperately needing sleep, wishing I had someone warm and safe to snuggle up to if I do sleep, which I don’t do enough of or well…

March 31, 2009

12:28 p.m.
I am going to be on a quest, I think, to get myself some irises in the next couple of weeks.  Some pretty purple ones, real or fake, doesn’t much matter.  They just might brighten my mood.  Curiously, they are probably my favorite flower.  AND I think there are birds building a nest on my porch.  What is my clue?  Their presents on the top step.  But I’ll hose it down.  I love animals.  It’ll give me something to watch, especially if they have babies.

11:57 a.m.
Stress is when you have devised methods of torture for multiple animals.  Stress is when a kitten opens a doorknob and proudly walks all across the floor you have just painted.  Stress is dogs wrestling on your bed at 3 a.m. when you are feeling sick.  Stress is knowing that if you’d had a gun these past 24 hours, you wouldn’t have any pets.

But it’s just a little stress…

March 28, 2009

9:03 p.m.
There are very few times in my life that I have felt as utterly and completely alone as I feel now.  It’s not solitude by choice, I’ve had that.  This is alone, deserted, unwanted.  I am debating whether to go somewhere I don’t really want to go just to be in the company of others. But I don’t know how I’d hold up when I was with people who were indifferent to me, too.  Or, worse, what might happen if someone actually cared.  But I suspect I’ll be spared that.

As I made the long trip home from the hospital tonight, I wondered what might happen if I ceased to exist.  How long before someone noticed?  Who might actually care, beyond the superficial “oh, that’s too bad.”  I’ve always tried to treat people well, so that someone might remember me fondly when I’m dead.  But life is full of reminders that no good deed goes unpunished.

1:11 p.m.
Random rant.  Why is it that the only men who seem interested in me are unavailable.  Who is checking me out when my parents take me out to lunch?  A man who’s at lunch with his wife.  Why is that?  I don’t want to send off vibes that I’m looking for men who can’t or won’t be with me.

Anyway, that’s a bit frustrating.  And I vented.  Back to work I go.

March 24, 2009

12:53 p.m.
Soon, I’ll be posting not camera pictures, but real pictures (when the office is unpacked).  But that might not be what I’m going for.  Perhaps I’ll just take a video of the new office space, which is so completely different from what was here before that part of me regrets not taking a before picture, but part of me is just content with the change.  Why hold onto memories of times gone by?  Some things we need to keep, but certainly not all.

And sometimes there is some peace in watching paint dry. It’s not the same as sitting on a mountaintop and breathing the air deep, but… it can provide its own strange healing, and I think our souls all need a little healing.

March 23, 2009

6:41 p.m.
I am not ever going to be mistaken for a high-end carpenter.  I know, I know, this is a shocking revelation, and the world probably stopped spinning for just a moment because of the sheer shock of it.  But, all sarcasm aside, I have too many interests to really learn what would be required to be a master carpenter.  Norm Abrams’s job is safe for now.

So, admitting that, I have to say that I’m better able to accept flaws in my work than I thought I might be.  I’m preparing myself to paint the walls in my office, I’ll get on primer and one coat of paint tonight, the final coat tomorrow (I stopped pushing myself to be superhuman a while ago—nobody knows or cares and I just end up exhausted, so what’s the point?  I’ve got work and school and a life to lead outside of doing this stuff).  Trim tomorrow, probably both coats, then… who knows, maybe start painting the floor tomorrow?  And by… Friday?  Bring in furniture and set everything up.  I keep making these plans, then they don’t work out quite as perfectly as I hoped, but still, before the end of the weekend, maybe.

It’s exciting to get something fresh and clean, make something with negative memories come alive as something new, obliterate all the bad and make it my own.  I’m feeling energized by it, and I think we all need something to energize us.  I was washing the window frame and looking out the window, and thinking of gardens.  I planted a slew of bulbs (too late) last year, but hopefully some will bloom.  I love plants and birds and all the critters that live outside.  I think I need some time outside just enjoying it all—when it’s warm enough!

I’d like to hike to the top of a mountain and just sit and listen and watch.  Then close my eyes and just be there.  ahhhh… sounds wonderful!

10:31 a.m.
I just posted a picture of the built-in/recessed bookcase I built in my office (unpainted, but assembled) on my Home Repairs page.  I’m very excited about it!  In a few days, I hope I can be storing my textbooks, binders, and possibly even work books there, so my office is more office-y.  It’s amazing what you can do all by yourself sometimes, and I am very much all by myself.  My father told me one of the dangers for me in being alone is that if I spent too much time that way, I’d realize I really didn’t need anyone else, and that would segue into not wanting anyone else.

March 22, 2009

11:39 a.m.
I’m awaiting the call from my mother to make kroppkakor.  You’re all jealous, I know.  Swedish food, noted for its lack of color and flavoring.  I’m putting in a couple pictures below.  We have it with a cream sauce (thin, like just cream) with onions, pork, and allspice (whole, cracked, so it has some substance).  There is nothing in the world that tastes like it.  The family makes it very rarely, and today I’m learning how it’s done, so I can carry on the tradition.  I’m excited.  Anyway, here are some pictures (never had it with lingonberries, which is the side dish on one of the pictures).

March 18, 2009

5:21 p.m.
Remember that old quote (relatively old, of course): “Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.”  ~Charlotte Whitton

Tonight I moved my desk. By myself.  It went well, considering my ex had moved it with two or three other men, and they all complained about how heavy it was. But I moved it, turned it, fit it into its cubby and caught my breath.  The rest of the room is open to me, as soon as I get assistance figuring out the last of the computer and network hardware.

I did a little something that a few men did, so… I feel okay about it.

My kid used to call me “Tonka tough.”  Maybe she was right!

1:04 p.m.
Lights!  I have lights!  I’m so very excited.  I can see what I’m doing.  In one of life’s strange ironies, my work light burned out this morning, not long before the electrician showed up.  But I’ve got lights now, so its all good.  And after two more board cuts, four nails, and a touch of paint, I’m ready to get help moving the desk into its new cubby.  If I get help.  Which may or may not happen.  If I could strap some kind of thing onto the big dog, he’d be strong enough…

March 17, 2009

12:22 p.m.
Dogs suck sometimes.  Especially when they get into a fight in the vicinity of your body and you end up with bleeding toothmarks in your thigh.  The dog shall be lucky to survive the day.

11:59 a.m.
I have spent a good chunk of time totally alone, my sole company a slew of animals.  I need human contact.  I need a better balance of all the things that fill my life, and hopefully that will come soon.

I do not celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, being neither Irish nor Catholic, nor do I seek reasons to drink.  But, for those who do, enjoy the day.

March 16, 2009

5:38 p.m.
I’ve got my next few days tightly scheduled around paint drying times (well, polyurethane drying times, too).  I have to get an electrician in after the floor is dry, after I put in the trim that doesn’t exist yet, then I need my ex to set up the wireless network that night (once there are lights, because it’s tough to work in the dark, although he might be giving me a new router, because he feels the old ones are old enough that they might just conk out).  Then I need help moving one desk on Thursday, because I’m not strong enough to move it alone.  If I try, I’ll rip up all the paint I’ve spent days installing.

But once the desk is moved, I’ll put the ancient computer on it (it runs my sewing machine software, and nothing else), and then my room is totally empty and ready for me to do the final touches.  If all goes well, I’ll be down to just the floor left then, so I can fill the gaps, prime, paint, repaint, and the four coats of polyurethane (which are supposed to be done two hours apart), and then wait a day.  I should be able to move the rest of my furniture alone, even though some of it is heavy.  That’s what you do when you’re trying to make it on your own.

And it’s hard to get help!

March 15, 2009

4:27 p.m.
Yes, it IS possible to explode a hard-boiled egg when all the water cooks off.  All over the kitchen.  Then leave the shards that remain in the pan to burn and fill the house with their aura.  I was multitasking, and got a crisis call, so… the egg was forgotten.  And now it will send me regular reminders.

3:58 p.m.
I made coffee and had breakfast quite late today.  More like lunch, even though I was up before 6, and painting by 6:05.  And I thought it would be interesting to test some stuff with my coffee.  I had a tin of Godiva hot cocoa powder, nice dark chocolate, that was getting a bit stale.  I thought, “Hey, I can make mocha in the coffee maker!”

Mixed success.  It tastes good, but the cocoa was fine and filled the filter, so there are some grounds in it.  But, it perked me right up!  Wheee!!

March 14, 2009

7:56 a.m.
Full speed ahead in my basement today.  Yesterday, not so good.  Lots of things weighing heavily on my brain, but today, my spirits are lighter and I’ve been ripping out ceiling tiles (badly water damaged, and I find these tiles very ugly).  I’ve got an electrician coming to give me an estimate (hopefully one I can swing right now—I’d really like lighting in my office.  Call me silly).

The room is in full renovation, with the wall ripped out, shelves in skeletal form, carpet largely, but not fully, removed.  Animal scents better than they were, but not eradicated yet (this is the main goal, actually).  but today will be fruitful.  I feel it in my bones.  Even if I were to get out and join the living for a little while, I still suspect my basement will be in much, much better shape when I go to bed tonight than it is now.  This is good!

And the lime green walls and teal floor will at least be started in a closet, where an old desk shall reside.  Is it possible to spray-paint metal desks?  Is it even worth it?  Probably not worth the effort.  It’s only to store an old computer that should run the software that will write the disks that will power the embroidery portion of my sewing machine.  It’s about a hundred steps to get myself to where I’m fully functional and efficient, but I’m hoping to get there.

And I have some tax work to do this weekend.  As in, I have to complete it.  Should be fun!  We’ll see if I owe anything.  Last year, I made so little, that before I zeroed it out, my income was negative.  I made more this year, but still paying tuition and mortgage interest, single head of household, all kinds of expensive things.

I’ve certainly not been making a killing, not that I need to.  I want to get my degree, help people, and earn enough to get by without panicking.  If I can have a little fun on the side, all the better, but not all fun is expensive.

And then there are issues to resolve.  I think I’m just gong to work on my stuff, and let the other stuff fall where it may.  I can’t control others, anyway, so I’d do better to focus on the one who I have a bit more control over—me!  When I’m where I should be,  suspect it will make me better company, anyway, and I won’t have some of the issues going on that I do now—I hope!

I’ll just lose fingers from improper tool usage!  Yes!  I know how to party!

Yeah, I’m getting back to work.  Fumes are fun!  It’s the dust that will kill me, but I’m getting rid of it.  Oh, yes I am!  Next weekend, at the latest, watch for pictures.

Friday the 13th of March, 2009

11:39 a.m.
If I were more superstitious, I would not be working today.  But I’m not horribly superstitious, although some might say I am horribly stupid.  I used my phone (as usual) to take a picture of my finger.

There is a fair amount of dead tissue that will have to come off (that whole drilling action), but there’s no way I’m cutting it off now, because it’s amazingly tender.  Hopefully now that I’ve re-purchased antibiotic ointment, it’ll clean up and heal a little better.  This might leave me with an interesting scar.

I like visible scars more than the emotional ones.  I probably have enough of both to last the rest of my life.  But as far as injuries go, this one has closed up pretty well, and I’ve certainly had much, much worse.  I also think that steri-strips should be sold to the general public.

March 12, 2009

7:50 p.m.
Building shelves.  Using paneling (paint-ready white) to make the backs and sides, for a more polished look.  Cut an 8X4-foot panel on the table saw unassisted.  This was stupid, but it worked.  I’ll wait for help for the rest, just an extra set of hands to guide the pieces.

I’ve cut 2X4’s.  I’ve cut 1X12’s.  I cut the paneling.  And how did I injure myself?  My wonderful new 24v Ridgid drill.  In my knuckle.  With the phillips screwdriver head.  Messy, lots of blood, swelling, discoloration of nail bed, but… no hospital trip required.  Thankfully.  And it’s not enough to get me to stop for the night, because I’m not smart like that.

My wayward child has taken my Neosporin®.  This basement is not sterile.  I cleaned, but I’m hoping there are no germs in there.  Running water, gobs of soap, but… you never know.  I like having the Neosporin® to help coax out any nasty germ action.

Guess I should get back to work, because I’m excited about this building project.  I so wish I could cut another piece of paneling.  Actually, maybe I can.  It’s warmer, so the fluorescent garage lighting is brighter (NO, I did NOT put in fluorescents in the garage), and now that I’ve cut off one strip, the piece is smaller and lighter (but still 8 feet long).  I used a couple odds and ends in the garage to hold up the end behind me, ducked underneath to turn on the power, and I was off and running.  I do love my tools…

March 11, 2009

8:42 p.m.
I had high hopes for Spring Break.  I really did.

And now, mid-week, I really really needed reassurance that I wasn’t a complete failure at life.  I didn’t get it.

March 9, 2009

4:51 p.m.
Breaking things is good for the soul.  I’m destroying some carpet now in what is my new office (abruptly new).  It wasn’t going to be my office yet, but, alas, my timeframe was altered when my router(s) died.  to be online, where I do my work and my research, I have to be plugged into the modem, which is located in the basement.  s it turns out, the whole process is feeling a little good, honestly.

The rest of my home life?  Not going so well, but I’ve got to do the things I can do, and let the rest resolve itself.  For now, I need to get things squared away and, if my child moves out, figure out how to get roommates to fill the empty space AND how to start earning some money fast.  Yikes!

March 7, 2009

9:02 p.m.
In the continuation of bathroom renovation/repairs, I did pick up a certain tube today and ask my daughter, “Wanna touch my caulk?”  I think she both laughed and rolled her eyes.  Not 100% finished with my work, but I do like the results so far.  Crisp and clean makes me happy!  Tomorrow, for sure.  Unless my parents make me leave way early for the concert we’re going to.

12:38 p.m.
Breaking with my blue and yellow Swedish theme to be unSwedish and dull for a moment.  I have a gorgeous day that I’m not using the way I’d like.  Realistically, I’d rather be doing something fun or hanging out with friends, but I’m being responsible.  I was going to hang some outside light fixtures (still possible) and work at refinishing a credenza that is transitioning from dining/kitchen furniture to entertainment center (less likely).  I can work on it inside, because I seem to get off on fumes, so that’s no big deal.

BUT, it’s amazingly warm, and I haven’t even stepped outside yet, because I’ve decided I MUST finish my bathroom (who knows how my mind works?).  So, I’m working assiduously at finishing my bathroom, so my safe haven (bedroom, bathroom, amazing closet) is more havenly.  I need the place to lock myself away and do the things I do without clutter and disarray warping my brain.

But I’m going to make a point of enjoying the warmth and the sunshine, because really, I can’t enjoy it vicariously through anyone else.  Nothing worse than hearing someone say, “Oh, it was awesome out there,” and saying, “I scrubbed a toilet all day.”  (confession:  the toilet didn’t take long, and honestly, I don’t mind cleaning toilets)

In fact, maybe it’s a good time to run errands, wearing my painting clothes, braless, using a Lands End turtleneck neck as a headband, yesterday’s makeup under my eyeballs.  Will anyone care?  Doubtful.  I look like I belong at Home Depot, really.  It’s the other stop where they might look at me funny, and perhaps disparagingly.  Fine, that way I can filter out the finicky.  I’m on a mission.

10:18 a.m.
I think my Swedish roots are showing.  At least more than they did.  I’m suddenly looking for more ways to put family pieces, or things that show my heritage, in my home.  It’s kind of exciting!  I’m on the verge of commissioning an art piece, or designing it myself (possibly custom needlework).  I’m looking up Swedish things, too.  I should go to the Scandinavian store and look around, and lament being poor.

March 6, 2009

6:53 p.m.
In the midst of some really bad things going on, I did get good news.  I was accepted into graduate school, so I’ll be getting a degree in clinical psychology.  Next step:  finding the money to pay for it.  The tuition is higher than my income.

But hopefully everything will work out.  Really, it’s about time something went well for me!  Tried to have a talk with my kid, but she hasn’t been receptive.  We need to make some changes, because it’s time for me to start living life, and not being a captive in my own home.

Time to start being more fun, and open to spontaneity!

March 5, 2009

9:50 a.m.
Midterm done, packed safely, ready for the trip to school.  Having work hanging over me always taints my mood, but my mood has been tainted severely of late, anyway.  I’m needing reassurance I’m not getting; no matter how much I do or how well I do it, my own reassurance doesn’t seem to cut it.  I should work on that.  It might be all I ever get.  My brain was not helpful to me during the night last night, which is why I was awake early and why my disposition isn’t really changing.  Ahhh!  Ain’t life grand?

4:22 a.m.
The thing that sucks about being awake at an absurd hour is the thoughts that wind through my head, the voices I hear repeated, the ones that tell me things that perhaps I believe.

They’re the voices that tell me I am not worthy of love and affection, that are played out in my life over and over again.  The voices that tell me there is nothing about me worthy of attention or affection—the voices that have repeated that over and over and over again my whole life long.

The voices that have, from early childhood, told me I’m ugly.  The voices that tell me I should never hope to be with a man I would want to be with, because any man who has a choice will clearly pick someone else.  The voices that tell me I have character flaws so extreme that to hope anyone will value me is ludicrous.

And the voices aren’t the same voice, they’re clear, distinct voices that have actually said these things to me over many, many years.  They belong to real live people, whose motivation I don’t know, but whose words have been absorbed into my being and have never found any tangible, credible evidence to disprove them.

Intellectually , I hope they are wrong, and I strive to be the best person I can be.  Experientially, though, I suspect they’re right, and that scares me.

So, I guess I should shut off my mind, and work on something I know I have a chance at, and that is being a student.  Perhaps the schoolwork is the underlying root of my feelings, telling me to not worry about things that really have no hope for me, but to focus on that which I am good at.  Can’t be a student forever, don’t want to be, but… at least I can do it.

March 4, 2009

3:39 p.m.
With the help of a friend who stopped to visit, I alphabetized, straightened, and recorded in a database a grand total of 124 mysteries (title, author, ISBN, copyright, publisher, type of book [paperback, hardcover, etc.]).  They’re in the bookcase in my bedroom, looking much better than they’ve ever looked (first time they’ve been gathered in one place—I should photograph it because it’s so nice).  I may not have any others, but there might be some in secret hiding places.  I’ve got room for more.  Suspense will go there, too.  It feels good to get that level of organization, and it motivates me to continue organizing the rest of my books, which are semi-organized.

Conference call coming soon, hopefully a quick one, then my midterm, whilst preparing my chicken enchiladas.  Very exciting times!

7:00 a.m.
So, I did something really weird here and deleted everything I wrote except the date and time.  And I made the type really small.  Clever.

But I’ll remember…

Isn’t March fourth a day for action?  I got some action yesterday.  My daughter’s boyfriend provided the extra muscle I needed to get the oversized television into temporary storage, where it annoys me but enables me to get all my other furniture into their happy homes.  I can finally put my pajamas and exercise clothes somewhere other than stacks in the closet.  Exciting times, I tell you!

I am hoping he’ll come today to visit my daughter and help me move the last piece of furniture (it’s simply too big for me to manage alone—this from the chick who moved an antique hope chest into her bedroom by herself.  I’m not weak, but I’m not 6’5″ tall, either.  If my arms were just a little longer…)  The only “pay” I can offer is food, chicken enchiladas tonight (just need to buy some fresh jalapeno peppers, and a little more chicken so I can put extra food in safe storage—my dog climbed onto the stove last night and ate all the extra meat from our tacos even though she had just eaten a big dinner.  If stuff isn’t stored safely, it isn’t long for this world, even if it’s on the stove so people can go back for seconds).

So, in the midst of other stuff (still renovating, rearranging, reorganizing, etc.), I’m feeling a few pieces come together, and it’s wonderful!  If I refinish the credenza by the weekend, I might have a couple friends who will move the TV for me.  They just picked it up and carried it like it was nothing—I hate to take advantage of their strength, but they’re glad and willing to help if I ask, so I shall, but not until I’m ready.

Back to finish my job and do some midterm work.  Oh, life is good, even when it’s not so good (and oh, have I been feeling not so good).

March 3, 2009

10:12 a.m.
Midterm today.  I’m decidedly unenthused.  But that means when the week is over, the semester is halfway finished, which is actually pretty cool.

I have to do a dishwasher repair.  My child keeps trying to shove it into its opening, where it repeatedly fails to run properly or clean dishes.  That is, when she’s up.  She’s good at critiquing what I haven’t done (like everyone else always has been), and avoids thanking me for any work I’ve done, even if it’s taken weeks (kind of like everyone else always has been—I’m sensing a pattern here).

The dishwasher will be how it will be, I can only do so much fixing of stuff when I have more pressing issues to contend with (see midterm above).  I probably just need to get myself a wife, but… yeah, I’m too straight for that.  Someday, maybe I’ll get there.  I keep trying.

And I’ll keep plugging away at the repairs.  I need to cut a few composite boards on the table saw to attach to the base of the dishwasher at the right height (the height is the only major concern) because the legs (metal) keep bending and/or snapping off.  Doesn’t matter which they do; the key point is that they don’t work, and the dishwasher really doesn’t want to work at all if it’s not maintaining some semblance of level.

It’s a cheap appliance, meant to last until I can afford to redo the whole kitchen, but… it might not last.  And, realistically, I do a fine job washing dishes by hand when I need.  I just avoid it because I have a dishwasher, which is broken, which means I have a few dirty dishes in the sink.  Gotta fix that!

March 2, 2009

2:32 p.m.
If I were somewhat less competent, I’d probably have an easier life.  I wouldn’t change doorknobs or chisel out the sections where the contact pieces go.  I’d just live with the doorknobs that had tooth marks deeply embedded in them, the ones that felt like I was handling doo-doo every time I touched them.  But no, I have to know how to change these things, and how to modify when the old parts don’t fit perfectly with new parts.  But on the positive side, my bathroom door now locks (although, honestly, it’d be easy enough to unlock with a coin).

And, alas, the snow has not melted itself, and the mysterious stranger who sneaks in out of nowhere, shovels driveways, and vanishes has, once again, failed to materialize.  I’m very disappointed in him.  This means the job is all mine.  Can’t the driveway tell there’s work in here that only I can do?  Phooey on that snow!  Phooey, I say.

10:09 a.m.
I’m ready to go somewhere.  I really can’t go anywhere, of course, but I’m ready for it.

I want my daughter to be the one to stay home and care for the animals while I go out and have some fun.  I realize my chances are slim, but it’s what I’d like.  Until then, I’ll keep doing what I do.  Whatever that is!

March 1, 2009

8:24 p.m.
March already.  Eeks!  But I’ve had a good day alone, no interruptions (other than a head that needed patting or ears that needed scratching, and patting a dog or cat is almost as soothing to me as to them sometimes).  I’ve finished painting all the woodwork in my bedroom.  I’ve got only a little left in my daughter’s bathroom.  I’ve changed a showerhead.  I’ve painted both sides of a baseboard heater, and will finish by repainting both sides tomorrow.  Finally, I’m getting finished with some of the jobs I’ve been doing concurrently, which is a bad idea.

Snow coming (started, but getting bad), so perhaps I’ll get a lot done while trapped at home tomorrow.  Perhaps I’ll be able to get some work done in my weight room tomorrow.  That’d be awesome!  I’ve been thinking about it a lot.  There’s only one me, but… maybe I can do it.

February 27, 2009

11:45 p.m.
I missed a photo opportunity.  There was a sign at a place that sells hot tubs.  It said:  Nashua Home Show, Free Head Inside.  When I went back with a passenger to get a picture, it had been changed to free tix inside.  I guess I wasn’t the only one who was stunned.  I was going to get the picture, post it, and comment on how some places would do anything to get business…

2:46 p.m.
Phooey on the weather!  It’s fine, but… who cares if the inside of the credenza is painted?  It’s the outside that shows.  The inside will be full of stuff, movies, CDs, games.  Seriously, why should I spend five hours fixing something possibly a dozen people will ever see?  Don’t I have bigger and better things to do?  Absolutely.  Glad I thought better of it before I papered and taped it off and knocked myself out to do something irrelevant.  I wonder about myself sometimes…

Much better to start cleaning the garage instead, methinks.

9:41 a.m.
If anyone out there has any control whatsoever over the weather, please, please, please let it be over 50° for long enough today that I’m able to spray paint the entire interior of my  family room credenza.  The rest of the stuff, I can do inside, where it’s usually over 50° (unless the boiler breaks down again), but the spray painting—I really want to do that outside.

That is my plea for the day.  The rest may or may not fall into place, but I need the weather to cooperate for a few hours, so the interior of the stained and shellacked credenza can be a surprising aqua (kind of like the interior of the antique brown wooden trunk that I use as a coffee table is a shocking color—you’d have to actually see it to name it.  I’m not sure what the color is, all I know is my mom bought it cheap when she was first married and put paint on it to make it presentable, and 45 years later, it looks wonderfully aged.  I like things with character).

Happy neutrals do want some splashes of life here and there.  I’m all about splashes of life (I could probably use a few myself).

February 26, 2009

7:37 a.m.
My father cancelled our morning walking session again because of an injury he sustained (which reminds me, I can see swelling in my wrist).  I wondered as I hung up the phone if there is something wrong with me because I don’t express disappointment.  I stay upbeat, even when things go wrong.  Is this a mental problem?  I sometimes feel disappointment, but I don’t like to upset anyone by admitting it.  That can’t be healthy.

Obviously, I’m not going to force someone to do something they don’t feel well enough to do, or that they can’t do because something big has come up, because that would be selfish, and would focus on my wants instead of their needs.  Needs trump wants.  But do I have to sound perky about it?  Or is that just my response to an underlying assumption that I will be let down?  Is it just realistic, or is it defeatist?  It might be like counting the licks to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop®—the world may never know.

But I almost always find something else to fill the time, anyway.  My life has enough stuff to fill those voids (even if it’s just stuff around the house, which it almost always is).

And speaking of stuff, my kid, who hasn’t helped me in the house in forever, spent hours yesterday working hard and cleaning up some of the damage her pets inflicted on the house.  It made me all happy inside.  I gave her my criteria for cleaning:  do not put it away if you wouldn’t pack it if we were moving.  And I cited her jewelry-making supplies (mostly beads) as an example—they’d all be packed (she agreed vehemently).

If I’m unsure we need something, I look at it carefully and think, “Would I pack this if I had to move?”  If the answer is no, I either throw it away (if it’s that bad, it shouldn’t even be a question) or I donate it to the Salvation Army, who will sell it in a thrift shop and use the money to help people in alcohol/drug rehab or disaster recovery.  I have a family heritage in the Salvation Army (my grandparents were officers), so I have a soft spot.  Plus they have swell and convenient containers to drop stuff in.  And it recycles things that are good enough to use, but not what we want or need.  I do mend clothes before I donate them, too.  I’m funny like that.

And I’m giving away frumpy, dowdy clothes.  For years I believed that I looked ugly so I had to hide myself.  I now think that the way I look is the way I look (average), and I can wear clothes I think are fun or pretty, not things that hide me.  I’m far from perfect, but that’s just the shell.  The inside, also far from perfect, is what really counts, so why should I relay the frumpy/dowdy message to the world.  I hope I’m not that boring!

February 25, 2009

6:33 a.m.
As usual, I gave up on sleep after trying for far too long to get some.  On the positive side, I again have ample time to do my work.  On the negative side, I again don’t get enough sleep.  I’m going to have to do something one of these nights to help myself sleep, regardless of what else is going on.

My wrist, injured while trying to move heavy furniture alone, is not doing terribly well.  There is no strength to it, and it hurts when I move it.  I might have to restrain it somehow to give it a day or two to heal.  There is no discernible swelling, which may not be a good sign, because it could mean that whatever I snapped is just going to stay that way.  Not my top choice.

February 24, 2009

5:48 p.m.
Yesterday while driving my daughter to an appointment in Manchester (I should be glad for them, at least I see her then), we paid our toll at the toll booth.  And the man there, a very gruff man, said to us, “Thanks.  Have a day.”

We were trying to think of responses:  “No, I am going to kill myself this afternoon, so I won’t have a whole day,” or “No, I’m flying to Australia and I’m LOSING part of the day.”  But none seemed to fit perfectly.

I was reminded of this when someone very close to me told me, “I’ve had a day!” He got some time in the presence of police officers (not because of his misdeeds).  He had a day.  I don’t want to wish that on anyone!

11:56 a.m.
I’ve been productive already, but just now, when I attempted to move the absurdly oversized television and its base to a more convenient (but temporary) location, I did something very very nasty to my left wrist.  Pain shot through my arm, and there as a most unpleasant snapping sound as multiple things inside readjusted or moved around.  I’ll have to monitor that, and curse myself for not being strong enough to do it alone.  I hate asking for help, because most people are too busy to give it, and the other resident here has no interest, but… I should have gotten help.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.  Guess it’s time to relax for a few minutes and see what happens.  Maybe everything will snap back into place…

February 23, 2009

7:14 p.m.
Over a year ago, I gave my bed to a friend who was visiting.  I realize not everybody gives away their bed, but I did, because it had bad energy associated with it (as did all the linens I previously owned).  For every bedding item from my marriage that I disposed of, I slept that much better.  You can say it’s crazy, but it’s true.

In October, I finally grew tired of being bedless, so  ordered one online.  And I bought curtains for it, because a canopy bed without curtains is just a weird bed with a metal frame.  And while I’ve been known to do weird things, the thing I wanted most was the whole pretty canopy look.  The curtains were, of course, not a proper fit.  I had to do some tailoring, and get creative in other ways.  But tonight I finally sat down and sewed the last panels for the bed.  The rest has been on the bed, and is now in the washer getting de-dusted (kept them up whilst sanding), but tonight, when I go to bed, everything will be in place and fresh and clean.  Even my feather bed is washed (it goes on top of the mattress, and it had to be un-dogged). I’m very, very, very excited.  And happy.

Yes, I know, sometimes it doesn’t take much to make me happy.  But I am!  Better get back to work.  Fun times!

6:42 a.m.
Time.  Gotta deal with it.  Won’t be moving furniture today, most likely, but will be moving it Tuesday or Wednesday.  Must finish the work in the areas where the furniture will go first.  C’est la vie.

Our big snowstorm wasn’t so big, for which I am thankful.  I had remembered to move my car to the clearest spot of the driveway at the end, so I can leave this morning without tons of shoveling, which is a good thing.  Makes it easier to go for a walk with my dad, then continue the exercise by shoveling when I come home.  Exciting, I know.

But for now, I’ve got some painting to take care of.  Wheee!!  If I’m lucky, I’ll finish some big areas today, then I can definitely move the furniture and relax in a space that’s both complete and tidy.  Life is good!

February 22, 2009

5:27 p.m.
Progress isn’t always pretty, but it comes slowly but surely to those who persist.  I’ve got the house MORE torn apart than it was before (as if that were possible?), but at the same time, when I finish, I expect it’ll look better than it would have if I had left things as they were.  Right now?  My bedroom walls, which were minding their own business, are all patched and awaiting sanding and then paint (some has to be done tomorrow).  Carpet is peeled back, but will be put in place tonight, and all the sanding will be done so the dust will be gone.

And then, by Tuesday, I’ll have some rooms completely rejuvenated. And others almost fully rejuvenated.  And still others underway.  I shouldn’t have so much fun with this, but it feels absolutely fabulous to tackle work that I had previously left for that magical “later” time that can be put off indefinitely.  But we’re not guaranteed a later.  We’re just guaranteed now, so I figure I ought to make the most of it while I can!

And my parents bought me lunch, so I got out with people for a little bit.  I love those spontaneous moments.  I ate fairly light and healthy, had a salad for dinner, feel kinda good inside (that might be fume-related, but who knows?  I’m doing the last coat of polyurethane in just a couple minutes, so I’m getting my fair share of fumes).  I’m going to trust that my headache and nasal congestion are from sanding, and they’ll be gone tomorrow when I have no more sanding.  This is my plan.

10:35 a.m.
Somehow, redoing my daughter’s bathroom has turned into a rather major project.  First, I had leftover flooring from the family room, and I’m using it in the upstairs hallway until I can afford a house-wide floor refinishing (marble in hallways, if all goes well, nice warm golden color; hardwood in most other rooms).  So, I have to pull out all the nasty, unfinished thresholds, sand them, stain them, seal them, install them properly, then put in the floor.  But I won’t put in the floor without repainting and repairing the woodwork, and if I’m going to bother with the woodwork, I should patch and touch up the walls, too.

And that’s extended to my bedroom, and my bathroom.  If I’m patching the dog damage on the bathroom door for my daughter, I might as well do the same for my bedroom and bathroom.  And while I’m at it, I should patch the walls, and sand down the baseboard heater to bare metal and paint that.  And then there are those cracks in the (textured) ceiling from when the roof leaked, right after I had refinished my bedroom, so I should fix those, and the affiliated damage under a window, and then I’ve moved shelves, so I should patch those holes, and I’m taking out wall-mounted speakers, so I should take those off and patch those holes.  And the closet door hasn’t been painted ever, it was just primed (former owner), so I’ll get that all pretty so my closet’s all nice…

THEN I’m going to put a ladder on my bed again.  That’s where this is all leading.  If I’m doing it all, I should do it all.  And that means patching the cracks over my bed, where the ceiling is 12 feet.  I can’t get in the 8-foot ladder, but I’ve got a handy 4-foot ladder.  So I’ll put it on the bed and do the work.  I did it that way when I refinished the room originally.  Yes, I do this when I’m home all alone.  Which means if I never write anything here again, I’ve died in the process, and you should check the local paper for the obituary, whenever someone finds my corpse.  I’ll let you know if I survive.

7:43 a.m.
The only human contact I had yesterday was a 20-second phone call to my daughter, and the five seconds when my father handed in a pair of clamps and a bar of Asian soap through a crack in the door.  No other interaction with a living, breathing human being.  It was strange.  But I’m a little relaxed, too.

I’m not sure if today will be the same or different.  I like people, but people are busy sometimes.  I’m just doing some staining, painting, sanding, cleaning, the stuff I’ve been doing for a while, with the exception that in some places, I’m actually finishing.  I’ll probably be moving some furniture tomorrow, simply because I have to do it.  I’ve needed it done for a few months now, and I’m really tired of having my clothes in piles in the closet.  I need more order.

But I’ve got the day to work, and to try to establish order where my child and her pets have created utter chaos.  The house is horrible, but one corner at a time, I’m making progress. I just wish I could click my heels and it would be done, but… that’s not real life.  Gotta deal with what you have, right?  So I’m dealing.

February 20, 2009

12:19 p.m.
I’m vocal today.  Comes from having stuff to say, I guess.  I am not taking call this weekend.  My child is going to spend the weekend with a friend, and I plan to just leave myself open to do what I can, no restrictions with phone lines or such, no parenting restrictions.  Sure, I’ll probably spend the weekend like I normally do, home alone trying to recover from having a child with issues, and doing home repairs, but at least I am very intentional about having the down time from call.  And I’m free to be spontaneous, which is a fun way to be now and again.  I think it’s the second weekend since I was officially trained in October that I’m taking the time off.  I feel guilty, but I do need to be nice to myself now and again.  I need a little pampering.

10:05 a.m.
It’s finished.  Over.  Done.  The last piece of paperwork to finish off the divorce nonsense that’s gone on for how long now?  Three or four years?  I’ve been officially divorced since August, and this little tidbit had my wrong name (the ex’s lawyer is apparently a moron), but hopefully that’s it, no more lawyer fees, no more mess, other than helping my kid pick up the pieces.  And there’s nobody to call to celebrate, which is kind of sad in a way.  We need to be able to share our joy.  But at least I feel the joy.  That’s what matters, right?

7:19 a.m.
From the NY Times: On Feb. 20, 1962, astronaut John Glenn became the first American to orbit Earth as he flew aboard the Friendship 7 Mercury capsule.

Just thought that was kinda cool. Now we’re sending spaceships to distant planets to send back pictures of the universe, which we’ll never really be able to see.  Snippets, beauty, but there’s so much out there.  The stars fascinate me.

5:34 a.m.
I think I need to go elsewhere to get a decent night’s sleep.  I woke up around 3:00, and finally gave up on the idea of sleep, but I didn’t want to.  I want to sleep.  It’s just that the dogs who live here don’t want to be with the one who brought them into the house, they all want me.  I’m a lucky lady.  Or something.

February 19, 2009

10:19
Let me just say, this is my fourth day of intentionally exercising in the morning (after a much-too-long period of not exercising because I was letting other stuff interfere with me), and it feels great.  I’ve been taking my vitamins and eating better in general, and I do feel a whole lot better.  And I’m getting ideas, very helpful ideas, as well as finally getting through some work I really needed to get done.  Now, as long as I keep the momentum going, I should be fully on track in no time!  At least that’s my plan.

February 17, 2009

9:32
I expected a wonderful day, and I wasn’t disappointed.  Thank you to the one who made it wonderful.

10:45 a.m.
I am fully expecting a wonderful day today.  It’s started well, my research paper work is over halfway done, I have clean clothes (even underwear) to wear (without having to dress up), and I’m looking forward to the evening.  Life is good.

February 16, 2009

9:12 p.m.
Today was a big day.  All my grad school application materials needed to be turned in.  I put the final piece in the mailbox on the door of the head of the department.  Now I wait anxiously, but while I’m waiting anxiously, I start doing financial aid and scholarship work.  I can’t pay for grad school, yet I’m going forward with my plans and trusting that I’ll find a way to make it happen.  “Can’t” isn’t acceptable to me.  I can.  I will.  I may not be accepted for the fall.  That means I’ll apply the next year, I guess.  Somehow, it will all work out the way it’s supposed to.

But until it does, I will absolutely be anxious while I wait for the final word.  I’m going to have to do stuff to keep my mind off it!

9:52 a.m.
It wasn’t far.  It wasn’t long.  But it was an intentional walk, and I do feel good about doing it.  Already scheduled to walk with Dad tomorrow, and planning some warmer weather walks when the weather permits.

I’d love to hike in the mountains this spring and/or summer.  I am going to the Flume in June.  I have wanted to for decades, and whether someone wants to accompany me or not, I will go (I have stupidly believed people who said they would go, and then repeatedly made excuses—that’s my fault for waiting, not their fault.  I should have the sense to know when they really don’t want to go).  I’ll pick my day, and I’ll go, with my camera in hand.  Or cameras.  I need to capture that virgin green of spring.

Now to shower so I don’t stink when I take my nephew to lunch!  Wheee!!  Life is good.

February 15, 2009

4:54 p.m.
It’s time to just start exercising, even though I don’t have the time.  We make time for things that matter.  I was doing okay for a while, then I let life overwhelm me, but when I exercise, I feel better.  Life still has stuff going on, but I have more energy to deal with it (taking vitamins has about the same effect, honestly, but in a different way).  Gotta take care of me.  BUT…

I get a two-for-one out of the deal (or maybe more than two?).  My dad, who also needs exercise, had asked me a week and a half ago if I’d like to walk at the mall with him in the mornings.  I haven’t taken him up on the offer, but just now I called and set it up.  So both of us will get in some walking, which helps us both, but we’ll also get time to talk with each other about the stuff we have going on in our own lives, while getting away from our homes to do that.  Good situation all around!

I won’t be skinny in a week or a month, but I’ll be feeling better in a week.  And better than that in a month.  And really, I’m not so concerned with how I look (obviously we’re always a little concerned, even if we do nothing about it—it’s just not my main motivator).  I’m far more concerned with how I feel.  I want to take good care of myself so I’m around to enjoy life for years to come.  There’s so much of it to enjoy!

7:40 a.m.
Dogs.  3:23 a.m., 5:40 a.m., 6:10 a.m., dogs woke me because they were OUTSIDE barking.  So naughty.  Really, really naughty.  I was on call, no calls.  But the dogs wanted to be sure I did not sleep.  But now they’re all sleeping peacefully.  Bless their hearts…

February 14, 2009
Valentine’s Day

10:19 a.m.
I think I inadvertently stumbled on a solution to a huge problem I had.  Yes, I was missing one piece to my grad school puzzle (and honestly, it wasn’t MISSING, so much as I was unable to confirm if it was in place or missing, so I have to be sure).  I invited a lonely friend to hang out with me while I cooked, because she’s more depressed than I am on Valentine’s Day (it has NEVER been special for me, or for her, I guess, but I don’t expect it to be, and she keeps hoping).  And I realized that SHE could write the missing letter of reference.  It doesn’t have to be flowery or long, just honest.

She’s agreed to work on it, and I’m hopeful that I can hand-deliver it to the campus either today or Monday, then my whole packet is in!  Transcript was a special favor, but the grades sure won’t hurt.  Faculty reference is done (she had forgotten, but I sent a reminder and she submitted fast).  One outside reference is done.  My work is done.  Just the other reference, and I’m good to go.  And if the unconfirmed ones submit, all the better!  I’m feeling a little like dancing now!

8:46 a.m.
Today, as soon as I finish my work (which should already be done), I’ll be going to the kitchen to clean, and I’ll be making three dishes concurrently.  Stuffed cabbage, Swedish-style (my family’s Swedish style, they’re all different), which is NOT tomato-based, and is in a sweetish beef gravy.  Vegetable beef soup (which will use the core of the cabbage, and will have T-Bone steak and angus beef, because I couldn’t find soup bones).  Lentil soup, because I’ve just felt like having it lately.  All three fairly healthy, lots of veggies, and hopefully will help with our overall energy level here.

I am also hoping to move the freezer in the garage in the next couple of days (I hope!), so I can freeze portions of all three meals.  Honestly, there is NO way in the world that the two of us can eat it all before it would go bad, unless it’s frozen for a later date.  My kid also wants me to make lasagna for Monday, so I’ll do that while writing my homework.  Overall, a beef-heavy week, I guess (not the lentils!), but good protein that is NOT the primary ingredient of the meals.  And homemade food, rather than prepared, take-out, or snacks, is always better for our bodies and souls, I think.

But that’s just me.  I’m a different breed of cat.

February 13, 2009

Phooey!  Phooey, I say!  I have found an unhammerable surface.  So I had to stop trying to hammer through it after bending enough nails.  I found another way to attach the board I needed to attach.  The mopboard on the cabinets I refinished is NOT made of wood!  In the end, the secret included holding it in place with my foot, which I did NOT hit with the hammer, quite an accomplishment for me, because I confess to not always paying attention to those little details like not pounding myself with a hammer.

I had spent a long time patching my bedroom door and even the wall near it, but today the biggest dog got closed in my room and he panicked, so now I have to repatch the wall and the door, and I used some unkind words to describe him, although he really doesn’t deserve it because he loves to cuddle and is gentler than his size would indicate.  If he likes you.  I’d watch out for him if you mess with one of us, though!

7:35 a.m.
I got some spam today, with the subject “Throw out your Dildo” (yes, dildo was capitalized).  I confess, I do not own a dildo of any kind.  But I doubt it’s offering me a luxury penis, and really, isn’t that what we all want?  A little pampering with a luxury penis?

I do have to wonder—the sheer volume of spam I get, is that an indicator that lots of people are opening it and clicking the links.  Seriously, can they not tell that this stuff is not anything they should be messing with?  Perfect replicas, sex drugs, play on my web cam, guaranteed inches, I live near you so we should hook up—crazy stuff.  People click it?  Do they REALLY think that the things they’re seeking are just going to come to them in an inbox?

For most of us, the things we really want not only don’t just come to us, but they are often completely elusive.  We might know what they are, but that doesn’t mean they’ll b easy.  But I think we appreciate the things we work harder for, anyway.  Speaking of which… I’d better start working harder!  Later (I’m sure).

February 12, 2009

8:18 a.m.
I finished last night’s work files, moving on to homework.  I wonder what a week with no school and no work might look like. I’ve had my job for a year now.  There have been days when my work was more delayed than others, but I’ve never really had a day off, and definitely not a week.  I’ll get spring break in March, so at least I’ll have only work then, but…  I do wonder.

But enough wondering.  My homework beckons.  Really, I wouldn’t call it “beckoning” so much as nagging.  Beckon is sometimes a euphemism.  Bet you’re surprised I could spell that without looking it up.

February 11, 2009

11:32 a.m.
It’s a wee bit chilly in the Arctic mists of time.  There is one other person in the world who knows what that means and where it comes from.

I am dedicating my day to getting myself together and trying to polish off some projects in progress.  I’m going to go at a rational pace, and interact with humanity as it might interact with me, but I have great hopes for myself, too.  I expect that I’ll be satisfied with what I’ve done when the day ends.  That’s my plan.

I might also review another book by tonight or tomorrow, because I’m reading a segment whenever I finish a big job I’ve got underway.  Kind of a relaxation reward.  Not the worst thing I could do.  I’m regretting that I’ll need to buy food, but it won’t take too long, and then I’ll be back in the swing of things again.  I’m counting on the warm weather to  carry me far.  In the midst of winter, a day that reminds me that spring IS coming can do a lot for my spirits.

February 10, 2009

9:38 p.m.
I forgot what I wanted to say before.  The school I’m attending, Rivier, is doing me a huge favor by getting my transcript to the psychology department so I can get into the graduate program formally (I’ve been in process for a while) and have my tuition reduced to the night rate for one class.  Convoluted, but they were kind, while reminding me I should have taken care of it before now.  It didn’t work this semester the way it did last, which was my big problem.  Now I wait and hope!

6:25 p.m.
I have been craving something, sushi or pad thai, and… I keep eating boring foods.  I’m going to have to look into cooking something exciting for myself, just because.  Even if I have to eat it for a few days by myself, I might do that this weekend or something.  Exciting, isn’t it?

February 9, 2009

7:50 p.m.
I have to do some substantial homework tonight (thoroughly read 10 scholarly articles and submit bibliography information, as well as summary paragraphs for each).  If the articles I originally selected aren’t available at the school library, I have to find more.  Same if they’re not as pertinent as I had hoped.  The beauty of it is that I can do all my work online, with my student ID.  I have access to articles dating back to the 1800s.  This, to me, is utterly amazing!  While it will take a while, seriously, imagine doing this all manually with no computers?  What a blessing to have it all available right here, right now!

I’m kicking back in some flannel pajamas with some slipper socks on my feet, and it actually feels pretty good to just lock myself away to do research.  I’ve got one article down, and nine to go.  Party on!

9:34 a.m.
This morning, I’m going to the Red Cross in Manchester to share a pint of my blood.  At this point in my life, my blood is still useful to them, and I have a rare blood type (although honestly, I suspect they always have a critical need for all blood types, because it just doesn’t keep that long).  So I’m getting myself excited for that.

There are only two parts I don’t like.  One is the finger prick (especially if they have to do it more than once) because the pricker is mechanical (not electric, but it’s got a spring action that makes it unpredictable and leaves a tender sore for several days).  The other thing I dislike is the large-caliber needle going into my arm.  I tend to give up the pint in four to five minutes, so it doesn’t take me a long time to finish.  And the arm hole, while I must coddle it for a day, heals much faster than the finger prick.  Strange.

So, I could write silly things when I get home and blame it on light-headedness, but alas, the truth is that it has very little impact on me.  But at least I’m doing a good thing.  And yes, I give my blood for free.

February 8, 2009

4:26 p.m.
I suppose it’s natural for people to go from reading about the DeFeo murders (Amityville) to discovering plagiarism between a book and Web site, to reading about the Marquis de Sade.  Everyone does that, right?  I’ve never really known much more than his reputation, and I thought a little more information would be good.  Not tons of information, but some.  And I learned that eating feces was like eating olives.  I’m going to have to take his word for that.  Curiously, reading has lifted my spirits.  Books are my friends.

10:00 a.m. or so
Today I recognized and named two things I rarely feel:  valued and respected.  I am going to try to work on that, but not sure how it will go.  I was in a crowd, with people I knew, and I was utterly alone.  Those closest to me are the same.  Haven’t seen my own child, who lives here, since Thursday, have hardly heard from her, and the limited contact I have is only superficial.  Guess I’m just hoping for a little warmth.  From somewhere.  Sad to say, that’s what I miss when my meetings end.  How wonderful it is to find people who treat us with dignity and respect, who are actually glad to see us and eager to hear what we have to say.  But it should happen again in April, so it’s all good, right?

February 5, 2009

I think meetings are punishment for wrongs I have yet to commit.  Hopefully they’ll be worth the punishment!  But that’s what I’m doing for a few days.  Bet you’re jealous.

February 4, 2009

6:38 a.m.
I’ve been awake for a while now, trying to get through my work files (Tuesday’s overnight work is the worst of the week, consistently).  I didn’t sleep well because my mind was racing over the work I have to get done today.  I have a lot of reading work to do between now and whatever time I happen to put my body in my bed tonight, then three very, very long and exhausting days.  Well, that’s not true, Saturday is only going to be about an eight-hour meeting.  The other days?  Thirteen hours, or a bit more.  And I’m commuting 35 miles each way because my child doesn’t handle nights alone well.  And I’m still working while I’m home.

So, Saturday afternoon, when I can crash, I’ll want to be pampered, but that isn’t what I’ll come home to.  I’ll still have to cook dinner and clean up after the dogs and the kid.  But at least I’ll be home.  And maybe I can unwind a little before I’m on call.  Ahhh!

I do need to fit a little fun in the schedule now and again…

February 2, 2009

11:19 p.m.
From my research (which is going slowly, I’ve got six of fifteen articles to work with so far): According to Jed Diamond, a psychotherapist specializing in men’s health, Irritable Male Syndrome can beset men between the ages of 40 and 55, or as late as 65 years. Diamond describes the condition as a “male menopause,” with similar symptoms, including depression, moodiness, anxiety and decreased libido.

Does this describe anyone you know?  I can think of a few men who act like they get PMS.  Maybe it’s just IMS!  And if you feel like being cranky, well, here’s your way to get away with it.  No, I’m not a jerk, I just suffer from IMS.  Some might call it “midlife crisis”—maybe that’s just a way of dealing with decreased libido?

Personal theory:  just like women can be bitchy by nature and use PMS as an excuse, men can do the same.  Sometimes we look for excuses to be nasty.  It’s not my fault, it’s hormones, age, anything but me being responsible for my own behavior.  I think more people should be responsible.  If I’m being a bitch, I hope I can say, “I’m being a bitch.”

I find weird stuff, but not enough of what I need to find.  There’s just so much fascinating stuff out there…

9:33 p.m.
I’m trying to do research for my research paper.  I’m finding TONS of articles, most of which don’t cover my topic (who knew sex and stress would be under-researched?  You’d think lots of people would be more interested).  But I found an article that I’d like to read sometime.  It’s on domestic abuse in conservative Christian denominations.  And it says many of the women are victims of domestic terrorism.

There is the typical abuse cycle, escalating violence, sexual violence, emotional abuse, controlling behaviors, and it even led to posttraumatic stress disorder.  Imagine marital PTSD?  In an extremely religious home?  It’s all over the place.  It wouldn’t surprise me if homes like that were worse than a typical home, too.  All because they misread the Bible, or they don’t read it but believe leaders who tell them it’s what God ordained.  Disgusting.

Back to finding 14 more articles before class tomorrow.  At this rate, I’ll go to bed around 10 a.m. tomorrow.  Wheee!!

February 1, 2009

8:39 a.m.
There was something else I had thought of that I meant to mention.  I have had recent encounters with someone who did something that my grandmother does.  And it wasn’t until after the fact that it occurred to me.  My grandmother will say, “Matilda is a lying cheapskate” to me.  And then she’ll turn around to someone else and say, “Lisa said Matilda is a lying cheapskate.”  And you know this information has been said in your presence, but it doesn’t seem like something you’d say, but there it is being presented as what you said.  It was a while ago, so the exact details are fuzzy for a while.  And someone said stuff and attributed it to me, and that really bothers me.  I didn’t like when my grandmother did it, either.  It’s really annoying when you can NOT say anything, but be blamed for it, anyway.  People confuse me.

8:16 a.m.
Can you believe a month of the year is already gone?  I can’t say I’m exactly where I was when the year started, though.  I’ve got a lot more done in my home, which is reflective of a lot more work I’ve done on me, inside.  Because I’m trying to focus on the things that are good for me, and get rid of some of what isn’t.  Sometimes getting rid of the things that drag us down is amazingly liberating, and we don’t even realize how much they drag us down until they’re not there anymore, and suddenly we feel light again.  Wow.

My parents invited us to watch the Super Bowl and eat muchies with them today.  I didn’t even know which teams were playing until I asked someone on Friday.  I am totally indifferent as to who wins or loses.  I watch the ads with my boss (we’ve watched together for years, via IM, and assessed them together), and I see some of the game (today I’ll be doing some research for a research paper, if I can get into the school’s library, which they say I can do).

But I think the recent brushes with death have left my family looking for more reasons to just hang out together and enjoy each others’ company while we’re all still here.  We NEVER had anything special for the Super Bowl.  Sure, they watched it, but… wasn’t usually a big deal.

Even my daughter is choosing her grandparents over hanging out with her dad. And really, that’s probably a smarter choice, anyway.  With my parents, she is accepted for who she is (grandparents should DEFINITELY do that).  And there’s less tension.  And she can wrestle with their cat.  I’m hoping we all have a nice, relaxed time together.  Of course, eating food I didn’t have to cook pretty much always relaxes me!  I love cooking, but I don’t mind if I don’t have to, either.

If you watch the game, don’t drink too much, don’t bet too much, and really, don’t abuse anyone who lives with you because you drank too much or lost too much in a bet.  Highest rate of domestic violence on this day in the US.  Super Bowl Sunday is NOT that important.  It is just a game.

January 31, 2009

9:40 p.m.
At lunch today, my daughter and I were discussing what we might serve to her cousins for Easter dinner.  Specifically, we were thinking we could serve rabbit and garnish the plate with colored eggs.  My daughter suggested we say we found this rabbit in the house putting eggs behind our furniture, so we figured we were supposed to eat him.

When the kids got out of therapy, they might realize we were joking.

10:35 a.m.
My parents are taking my daughter to lunch to congratulate her for her graduation, and I get to go along, too!  Exciting moments in parenting!  I’m very fortunate to have my parents, who are loving and supportive of me and my daughter.  I know a lot of people aren’t so blessed, and I am thankful for Mom and Dad.  Whether they think I’m making wise or foolish choices, they always love me.  There’s a lot to be said for letting people be who they are.  Love does that.

January 30, 2009

Doctor visits for me and the kid today.  I always worry that the doctor will be mad at me, even though she’s one of the sweetest people around.  I know I’ve got work to do, but hopefully I don’t have any extra issues to worry about.  Loads of fun, though!  I have a lot of bruises to explain… “Yes, doctor, I carry large heavy items through twisting hallways all by myself because I’m painfully stubborn, and can’t wait too long for help.”  That’s solid wood doors, furniture, all that.  Just because there’s nobody else who can.

January 29, 2009

9:44 a.m.
Freaking stalker!!!  He hasn’t called in forever, and I saw a name on the caller ID and thought it was my daughter’s friend before I realized who it was.  And I had picked it up.  So I hung it up without saying hello.  Then he called back.  I didn’t answer that time.  I don’t even want to hear the voice on the messages he leaves.  Sometimes we really do just want to be left alone, at least by people who hound us.  How does this help me write my essay?  Maybe it DOES help, because I want to write about my desire to work in the area of domestic abuse, and other similar areas—including stalking by people we’ve never had a relationship with.  Who we’ve told very clearly, in these words:  I’m not interested in a relationship.

Seriously, can it be more clear?  I guess I could say:  I’m not interested in a relationship, you utterly repel me, and I do not ever want you to try to contact me again or I will call the police.

However, he has never threatened me, only promised to fix everything in my life, so I guess the police couldn’t really do anything.  And people wonder why I don’t trust others easily?  Psychopaths lead me to it.

Sorry, had to vent.  Again.

9:25 a.m.
Do or die day for me.  MUST get grad school application in the mail today so it’s delivered tomorrow, still in January.  Yes, they wanted my application early.  No, I didn’t manage that.  It’s due in early February.  Ugh!

I have the GPA, no questions there.  I will have to learn Spanish over the summer, could be a challenge, but I’ll do my best.  I just don’t have a printer that works right now.

A million, billion, gazillion thank yous to my friend, Peter, who is going to print out my personal statement for me.  He may never know how much this small gesture means to me.  I can pick it up before class, and get it in the mail at the end of class, and it will still make it in today’s mail.  I shall have to find ways to thank him, cookies, perhaps entire meals, because it is that big of a deal to me.

Off to write that personal statement… wish me luck.  I’m sure when I am notified, I’ll share the news, good or bad.  If I’m not approved, I’ll be surprised and disappointed (more disappointed, anything can happen, really), but I’ll try again for the following year.  Somehow, it will work out—if I’m following the path I’m meant to follow.  A lot of nervous energy now, my blood pressure will probably be up when I see my doctor tomorrow!

January 28, 2009

I don’t think this is what they mean by morning wood…

Yes, I woke up with this on my bed.  Yes, I probably left it there (there’s marking for where I’m going to cut it on one end).  Yes, I sleep with odd stuff sometimes.  Didn’t keep the dogs away (sadly).

Today, it shall have samples taken from it to fill out the gap between the new cabinet hinges and the cabinet base, so the doors open and close in the right spot.  Far be it from cabinetmakers to keep the old size available for when people might want to refinish their cabinets instead of replace them…

Heading off into the snow whilst polyurethane dries.  Gotta love appointments, you pay $120 if you miss them, and they don’t reschedule because of snowstorms.  Wheee!!

January 27, 2009

10:34 p.m.

Spent a long while catching up with an old(ish) friend—what a great end to the day!  Good friends are awesome!

9:03 p.m.
Need to vent.  Why is it that a man who knows I have no sexual interest in him will periodically send sexual text messages?  Does he think I’ve changed my mind?  Does he think that asking me to cuddle with him on a cold night makes me think it’s a good idea?  Does he think that asking to wake up with me will make me smack my head and say, “Wow, I could have had a V-8”?  Okay, I like V-8, but just because he’s a man and I’m a woman, that does not mean we are destined to bump pelvises.

There, had to get that out of my system.  Yes, I ignore those messages.  Well, I don’t reply to them.  Unfortunately, I read them.  And they always piss me off.

Back to my reading!  This book should be reviewed soon in my handy-dandy books page.

6:40 p.m.
I recovered from they polyurethane delay, because a surprise spot opened in the schedule (ten minutes works miracles sometimes).  I only decided right now to ponder why I could take off my bra (the joys of quiet nights alone!! So many of them, joys, not nights alone, but lately I’m getting a lot of alone nights, too, which allows me to spend lots of time without presentable clothing), and my dog could find a way to wear it on his head.  Only one arm band, of course, but I did need to remove it.  It’s not my prettiest bra (that’s in the drawer for when I wear something nicer than painting clothes), but it’s not dog clothes, either!  Silly doggie!

8:42 a.m.
Now I’ve done it.  I did my work and postponed my polyurethane work so long that I can’t do the final coat until after class, which means my whole job might be slowed down by an entire day.  Grrrr!  It would have taken five or ten minutes, but no, I had to do my work first.  Silly people never learn…

6:10 a.m.
Finally gave up on sleep.  I woke from a dream in which I had tackled my daughter to try to change her cavalier attitude toward taking cocaine.  The combination of that and her prescriptions would probably kill her, but I had pinched her ear and gotten her to the ground, and I was telling her she couldn’t take cocaine, and she was defiant and cruel.  And I let her go, because we really can’t control our kids except for in the moment.  It was a dream.

Also, when an arm reaches out and fondles your buttocks in the night, and the arm contains sharp claws, that isn’t quite the relaxing sensation you might hope for.  It’s a bit jarring.  I was up at 3:30, and it seems I won’t be back asleep again, so I should do something productive.  Wheee!!

January 25, 2009, 1:25 a.m.

I’m on call.  I got a call that really needed nothing more than for me to make a note of it.  I guess the dispatcher takes care of those things.  Then I got a text message (a few) from my daughter, and somehow her dogs have pushed me out of my spot on my bed.  She isn’t coming home for a second night in a row, and she has an independent study due on Tuesday.

I’m done trying to set aside time to help her, I’m done setting aside time for anyone.  I have my own grad school application that has to be done tomorrow.  I’m going to take care of me, and leave others to fend for themselves.  When they’re stressed, it’s their own fault.  I don’t need to sacrifice myself to accommodate their bad planning.  People who can’t respect my time do not deserve it.

And the multiple interruptions combined with obnoxious dogs who are too big to move mean that my sleep tonight will suck, which won’t help the essay writing process.  Yes, I’m venting, but I’m doing it here so I don’t wake anyone.

January 23, 2009

5:25 p.m.
If you happen to have been given some slightly stale brie and don’t want to waste it, do NOT try heating it in the microwave.  Sure, it’ll make the dry and bitter old crust fall off more easily, but it will also produce a puddle of pure brie fat that only a dog will want.  Side note:  the dog WILL want it.  And the stale rind.  The cheese is edible, but the texture is off.

10:45 a.m.
I’ve got a day that I intentionally cleared for the sole purpose of trying to work in my house.  I’m sanding cabinets, but wondering why cabinet-makers use finishes that flake and fall off with moisture.  I think it’s to ensure that none of us is satisfied for long.  But refinishing is cheaper and easier than buying new (imagine having to retile walls, new countertop and sink, all that nonsense, just because the cabinet was flaking?  And I can’t leave it looking that way.  That’s part of my problem, when I redo a room, I want to get EVERYTHING set.  Which means I almost never finish anything!

But I’m busy sanding, almost putting some shellac on the base, then I’ll be staining and sealing with a really solid coat of polyurethane, to counteract the moisture which is present in any bathroom, but especially one in which the user takes very long, very hot showers.  Soon, I hope, I can have before and after pictures.  It’ll be so exciting!  Or… something.  But every little step that puts my home and life together again is a good thing.  I’m ready!  Then maybe people will want to visit me again!  Wheee!!  I actually enjoy visitors, I love cooking for people, I love sitting and chatting and relaxing.  I almost never relax.  I need stress relief.

January 22, 2009, 5:06 a.m.

Yes, it’s early, but I’ve been up for a long while.  It wasn’t my top night of sleep, for sure.  But I had work unfinished, and that weighs on my mind, so I am up doing it.  And as I do it, here in the kitchen watching my coffeepot brew, some cats have jumped onto the counter to escape the dogs.  No, I don’t really love this.  Not at all.  But what I’m observing is that the grey tiger cat looks cat-like, and the orange cat?  He has a somewhat malicious look on his face.

It has made me worry that orange hair does that.  I am a redhead.  I’m a natural redhead.  I’ve never been anything but a redhead.  I don’t even have grey hairs yet.  Am I like this kitty?  Do I look malicious?  The kitty really isn’t malicious (I hope!!), but there’s something about his coloring that makes the eyes look different.  I wonder if I can conduct a test to see if people perceive redheaded people (and orange kitties) differently…

January 19, 2009, 9:31 p.m.

I’m supposed to be doing good, important things.  I have baking, sewing, refinishing cabinets, cleaning my kitchen, all of that.  But my daughter clicked TiVo and said, “This is for you, Mom.”

So instead of being productive, I’m watching South Park, “Red Sleigh Down,” in which the Iraqis are  torturing Santa and electrocuting his testicles, and Jesus stabs and shoots Iraqis (“I’m packing”), and eventually Jesus sacrifices his life to save Santa.  It is probably a really offensive episode to some (many) in the religious community, but it’s right up there with “Cartman Dies” as one of my favorites.

Yes, I watch South Park.  Yes, I know it’s irreverent sometimes (often).  Yes, I know people will say negative things about people who watch it.  But I bet they don’t laugh as much as I do.

January 18, 2009, 6:16 p.m.

I had to back out of dinner plans tonight, because I was lightheaded/dizzy and didn’t feel like shoveling.  Fortunately, I called before they prepared the vegetables, so it’s not such a big deal that I’m not there.  I’ll be medicating myself tonight and sleeping.  Ahhh… sleep, I knew you well.

But what does one do when lightheaded?  Paint without ventilation (can’t get much more lightheaded) and strip the finish from cabinets.  Until I pass out, I might as well be useful.

January 17, 2009, 5:18 p.m.

I’m kicking back fighting chills (fever, not weather) and waiting for paint to dry, so I was going through some old messages from a fake MySpace page I made using the picture of a sex doll (head only), with a job working at Hooters.  I don’t quite have enough material to try publishing the book, “Messages with a Sex Doll,” but I’m contemplating setting up a new page.  Yes, they shut down the old one for egregious violations, although it was just a horny guy who was sad that she wasn’t real, not a genuine violation of their policy.  I’ve seen MUCH worse go on for ages.

Anyone wanna play along with me?  You can use two users on opposite coasts logged in on the same account at the same time (we did it).  I figure if anyone starts their first message with someone by vowing undying love or asking for sex, they’re fair game.  Someone who says, “Hello, how are you?” won’t be material for playtime.  But oh, the fun one can have with those who aren’t polite.

Example:  A man asks, “What do you look for in a man?”
Reply:  Lots of money and a small penis.
Man’s response:  How small.

Other example:  Man opens with a cheesy pickup line.
Reply:  Sure, I could use a sugar daddy.
Man’s response:  It’s on, when and where can we meet?

I’ve gone a long time without sex before, I’ve gone a long time now, but seriously, do people really just hook up with someone based on one look at a MySpace profile?  Does this not seem a bit insane?  I can understand being horny, but aren’t there limits?  Maybe I’m crazy.

Might be something to do if I get delusional.  Time to find a picture…

January 16, 2009, 11:51 a.m.

I was just perusing the newspaper, absolutely amazed that all the passengers on the plane that crashed into the Hudson River survived, when a headline caught my eye, Boy George was going to jail.  So I looked at the article and was stunned by what I saw.  This is Boy George then:

He was the kind of guy that girls could be jealous of.  Why should a man be prettier than we are?  It isn’t fair!  But the article had a picture of Boy George now.  Time catches up with all of us, it transforms us all, it makes us all remember how we used to be.  However, this was extreme!  Oddly, I was just talking about him with a friend last week.  I remember seeing Culture Club (don’t hate me), and remember that Boy George had a very good stage presence, and was entertaining between songs.  Some might say more so than during, but that’s neither here nor there.

He does look like a man now, which is something new and different.

And then there’s Boy George now, yesterday at his sentencing:

He’s clearly led a rougher life than I have, despite fame and fortune, and I don’t wish him ill.  I imagine prison will be a little tough for him.  It’s not fun for anyone, but I suspect when one is a transvestite, prison could be a bit more challenging.  Why is it the only time we hear back from these lost stars of our youth, it’s for something bad?  I’d like to see one of them do something noteworthy and positive for a change!

January 15, 2009, 10:42 a.m.

I write.  A lot.  I type fast.  So a simple thought for me can go on for quite a while.  This might be one of them.  My main point, however, is that I am an idiot.

My daughter has a good friend who had spent the night, and they were having a tea party while I had a visit from my friend Peter, who was playing the piano, which receives far too little attention (I so need to get back to practicing, and maybe pretend I can play some day).  But the friend bounced into the living room, and he said, “Um, where’s your vacuum cleaner?”  My natural response was, of course, “What happened.”  This is a teenager, the reply:  “Nothing.”

So I got him the vacuum cleaner, then learned that he had spilled a canister of sugar on the family room rug (which was, at the time, only five months old, now it’s only six—I’ve had to shampoo it with a steam cleaner and chip away the hardened sugar since then).  The net result, because of moisture and sugar, was that my vacuum cleaner has been out of commission since, hard-packed with pet hair and, effectively, candy, custom-fitted to the tubes.

Today, I plugged it in and disassembled (oh, yes, I do work on appliances when power surges through them; I also change light fixtures without turning off the circuit breaker—I have been electrocuted far less than you’d imagine, although I have been.  If you’re curious, ask).  I took out parts, soaked them in hot water in the bathtub, sprayed the plugged in part with Windex, and waited.

Then, I took a steak knife that I only use for cleaning now, and began scraping and chipping the parts in the bathtub, and they came out as clean as if the vacuum cleaner were new.  It’s a beautiful thing.  The plugged-in part, the body?  Well, that was more work, I had to scrape, wipe out with a damp hot rag, and spray again.  Three times.  Then I got frustrated and just chipped hard with the knife.  Yes, I got it clean enough, cleaner than it’s been since about a month after I bought it (NOT as clean as new).

However… one should not chip violently at a vacuum cleaner with a steak knife while holding the vacuum cleaner in one’s lap.  If the angle had been off, or if I’d been wearing thinner clothes (thankfully it’s freaking cold here!), I would have been calling 9-1-1 with a self-inflicted stab wound to my abdomen.  It would NOT have been a clean wound, either, what with all the pet stuff and dirt and such.  Then I did it again, deflected it from my arm.

Wouldn’t most people learn after the first time?  Or, if they’ve been injured by misusing knives before, wouldn’t they find another tool?  Sadly, this is the most effective way to get up what I need to get up.  But, that’s my tale of the morning, certainly not my proudest moment!  And yet, I share it because… okay, realistically, because nobody reads this anyway, and it amused me.

January 14, 2009, 9:57 p.m.

I think I have just confirmed my insanity.  It’s not like there was a lot of debate, but seriously, I have determined that tomorrow, on what promises to be one of the coldest days of the coldest season (why it can’t progress from autumn to spring, I don’t know), I am going to be cleaning in my garage.  Which is, of course, unheated.

There is a reason for it, of course.  I have stuff in there that I need for the jobs I’ll be doing on Friday.  I have a plan for the day, and it involves working in my house.  In fact, it so involves working in my house that I have told my daughter we aren’t leaving (unless we get plans for the evening, perhaps an exciting dinner date or something—still owe my nephew his tenth birthday dinner).  I will be painting, sanding, staining, painting more, finishing up a bunch of jobs that are not quite done, or had to be stopped for a variety of reasons.

The bonus, of course, is that I’ll get to use power tools, and I’m rather fond of my power tools.  No, not the battery-operated boyfriend (a.k.a., BOB), because I don’t have one.  Yes, I know people say ALL women have them, but I am apparently not an all women, so I get through my days and nights alone, without the assistance of that power tool, or any substitute.

But, in order to do what I need on Friday, and to streamline the work I do, I will need to organize all my supplies in the garage tomorrow.  In the morning.  In the cold.  But… I have a strange feeling that it’s actually going to feel good to do it.  Everything that’s behind me feels good.  There’s a lot to be said for the fresh start. When I’m done, I’m posting pictures.  Maybe even video.  All depends on how radical I feel.  I can be radical, but… my Web skills are limited (I need to get someone in here to help me with some of that stuff).

January 13, 2009, 9:07 a.m.

Sometimes our faith in humanity is unfounded. Sometimes we are reminded that we are the only ones we can depend on.  Sometimes we want to lock ourselves away and never come out.  Sometimes that might be better.

January 9, 2009

2:48 p.m.
There is a type of spam that annoys me more than most.  It’s the kind that looks like it comes from my own email address.  Why can’t these people use their computer powers to do something productive?  What is the thrill in writing programs that sends spam like that?  Total waste of human potential (and a huge waste of my time).  I just hope nobody else gets it from my account!

8:30 a.m.
I’ve been doing some data entry (gotta pay the bills, need to be sure there’s some money to do it), and I found a receipt for coin wrappers, which reminded me of my late former father-in-law.  He went into a bank where his daughter’s high school classmate worked, and, in his thick Filipino accent (not from the main island where the accent is not so challenging) said, “I want penis wrappers.”

Of course, he was asking for pennies wrappers.  But she was a bit surprised.  The nice thing about it, though, was that he was able to laugh about it.  But whenever I see a roll of pennies, I do think of penis wrappers.  And I wonder if a guy came to a bank where I worked (I did work in a bank back in the day), and asked for penis wrappers, would I be flustered and speechless, or would I give him directions to the pharmacy?

I’d like to think I’d be less flustered now that I’m older.  Something to work on.

January 8, 2009

10:08 p.m.
Doing the math…

I had a meeting today, and thought of something while stuck in traffic on the way home.  I was doing math.  I was calculating how long it had been since I went on a date where I did not pay for both of us (that’s over 20 months).  Yeah, I dated someone who was always short and was going to pay next time.  Next time never came, at least not next time when he had money.  Either I paid or I cooked (for which I also paid).

Which reminded me (see, this is how my mind works) that it has been over 23 years since the only time a date ever cooked for me, and that happened once.  Marriage?  Didn’t happen.  Post-marriage?  Didn’t happen.

Nope, not looking for sympathy or manipulating anyone to offering anything, just thinking about it because something during the meeting had led me there mentally, so what else was I going to do while sitting in traffic?  That’s what I have fingers for.  Counting (rather than flipping people off when driving, which is, however, necessary on occasion).

6:37 p.m.
I don’t want to sound heartless (I’ve just checked my wrist, I do have a pulse), but my plans for this weekend have all fallen through, and I’m okay with that.  Sure, I wanted to do things, and I wanted to see people.  The plans aren’t “sorry, never gonna happen,” more of a “let’s pick another time.”  So, I’d love to do something, but won’t be devastated if I don’t (plan B or plan C or… maybe just hanging out at home alone).

Maybe if I’m lucky I can catch up on some things—like sleep (although I’m on call, so I can’t guarantee that, or take anything to help with it).  My winter break is almost over, almost time to be back in class (but thankfully, no more sadistics, um, I mean statistics—even though I aced the class, I still didn’t adore it), but I’ve had good luck with my free time (even though I still have had work for my job virtually every day, yes, that’s seven days a week).

So, I guess I’ve got some free time… maybe there are clever ways to use it… my mind can be a scary place if it’s allowed to wander.

January 3, 2009, 3:03 p.m.

Trains of Thought (often derailed)

Prehensile tails. That’s where the train went. I spent a lot of years married to someone who got angry that my train of thought seemed so random. But this is how it went (in under a second).

I saw Wally. Wally is a stuffed walrus. He was given to my daughter when she was five by my cousin Paul, who died of glioblastoma this summer, after battling it for about four years, well beyond the normal life expectancy for this hideous form of cancer. We were visiting in his home the day he gave it to her, and he had a copy of Ranger Rick magazine on the coffee table (his wife taught, not sure what, and he taught—and loved—biology; the magazine was a natural for them, even though their kids were older). My daughter looked at the cover of Ranger Rick and saw a sea horse. She pointed at it and told Paul, “Seahorses have prehensile tails.” He was blown away. Sometimes it pays when moms talk to their kids. Sometimes the kids learn stuff.

But Wally makes me think of prehensile tails, twelve years after the fact, and mourn for a cousin who was loved and died too young. And it isn’t a random train of thought, it just happens to seem that way to the uncreative mind who wants to know each step of the process. If you should happen to spend time with me, know that the mind is always moving, and the connections aren’t really random. And deal with it!

Wow, the inner bitch is rearing her ugly head again…

January 2, 2009

7:37 p.m.
I was busy chatting with my friend Town Scryer, which we will both do as we work (our conversation isn’t always dialogue, so much as periodic monologue with an audience, which occasionally steps up to be dialogue).

Anyway, she showed me a review she wrote (scathing) of a casino she had been to, and it occurred to me… I have never been to a casino.  Ever.  I’ve been curious.  I watch CSI.  I hear of people who go often.  Intellectually, from the financial perspective, I have no interest.  But, oh, my curiosity can be piqued.

To me, it would be really cool background for a story, if I could be inside a place, with a notebook, just observing.  Some of the best writing in the world comes from people who merely paid attention.

8:22 a.m.
I am wondering… just what ARE the chances that a wooden match would find its way into a toaster with just the ignitable end protruding over where the slices are, a match whose head is the same color as the toaster, so an unobservant, or rather unsuspecting, toast-cooker might just push down the toast and not realize this incendiary agent is sticking right up over the heating coils?  Is this random?  Or did someone put it there?  I may never know.  But it didn’t ignite.

New Year’s Eve
December 31, 2008, somewhere around 7:00 p.m.

I just wanted to share a link, because Dave Barry writes a Year in Review article every year, and it gives a somewhat irreverent, highly inaccurate review of the events of the year (based somewhat on fact). It is here:
Year in Review

I particularly liked his report on O.J. Simpson’s recent conviction: In non-economic news, a Las Vegas jury convicts O.J. Simpson on 12 counts of being an unbelievable idiot. He faces more than 60 years in jail, which could end his relentless quest to find the killer of the people he stabbed to death in 1994.

December 29, 2008, somewhere around 7:30 a.m.

I’ll add to this random thoughts as I might have them, which happens.

I had a beautiful moment of waking up this morning. Throughout the night, dogs would wake me by snuggling with my injured foot/ankle, but the truly touching was when a dog jumped on the bed and vomited on my hip. Nothing says, “Good morning! I love you!” quite like warm vomit on the hip.

Imagine if a lover did that? Mmmmm!