Saturday, May 16, 2009
Enough with the singing, already.
Okay, so for those of you hanging on my every post, which admittedly are few and far between, I won my disability claim. W00t! But that's not the end of it. I have to deal with the mounds of paperwork from the office of Social Security and Disability before I see any benefits. At least, that's how it seems. I was supposed to get a deposit to my account this week but it still hasn't come. I don't know why. Usual bureaucratic delays, I suppose. But I keep thinking they're going to take it away from me or that something will go wrong somehow. I already found out my dentist doesn't accept Medicaid, which I now have, so I still owe him wads of money from my last visit. And we haven't paid our mortgage in two months now and I'm afraid our house is going to get yanked out from under us. I mean, I guess we could start selling the furniture or something. And I'm up over my head in credit card debt and...well, the list goes on and on, doesn't it.
But I'm really not sleeping right now because I located someone on Facebook. This is a person I was best friends with for a long time, and then she was going through a hard time and I was going through a hard time and there was a lot of badness between us, I guess, and the relationship ended. Okay, I ended it after she sent me a particularly acerbic e-mail. I didn't mean to. But I ended up crying for three days and had to be sedated and I couldn't go on with the situation anymore.
But the think is, I never stopped missing her. Or dreaming about her. And they were good dreams. In the last one we ran into each other and we both said, "Oh, I've missed you so much!" and hugged.
So, I messaged her. Well, first I spent an hour wondering whether to message her. Then I messaged her. And now I can't sleep because I'm wondering whether she'll reply or not and whether she'll tell me to piss off or not and why I even did such a stupid thing when she's probably moved on and doesn't even remember me.
It's true, I was angry with her for a long time about that last e-mail. But I'm not now. I just want us to be friends on some terms again. I'm not such a fool as to think it could ever be the way it was. Or maybe it could be, but I think we'd have to start all over again. I just hope she gives me a chance, is all.
My head hurts and I'm delirious with lack of sleep. I need to finish this smoke and go to bed for real.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
There's just so much stress in my life right now. Stress over money--we got another hate call from the bank today. And stress over my upcoming hearing. Did I mention that I'm having a hearing this Friday on my disability claim? I guess not, because the last time I posted before yesterday afternoon was before I knew the date of it. Not of yesterday, of the hearing.
I must be tired.
My head hurts too.
So, I'm having this hearing over my disability claim. It comes down to, I claim I can't work because of my Bipolar Disorder. The SSI doesn't believe me. I appealed their first decision and now I have to have this damned hearing. Before a judge and expert witnesses and everything. It's a video conference: they'll be in Salt Lake City while I'm in Grand Junction, but still. I'm totally freaking. I keep going over and over in my head the things they might ask me and what I'm going to say. My lawyer says he'll be asking most of the questions--the key word here is most--and we've rehearsed what I need to say...and he says we stand a good chance of getting something. But my claim goes back a long way--to 1998--and he doesn't know if we can substantiate my disability back that far.
He says to just let it go because it's out of my control and what will happen will happen. But I'm scared to death. I can;t seem to let it go even though I know it's good advice to be able to follow.
Hence the not sleeping lately and the stress eating and all the bad things I'm doing to my body and mind.
I'm bored with this now. I'm nored with being awake. Please let me sleep.
Monday, April 13, 2009
It started out as one of those bathroom dreams: you know, the kind where you badly have to go to the bathroom and you can't fin a toilet, or you finally do find a toilet and just as you're about to attend to your business you realise it's standing in the middle of a crowded office. Or a lion is in there, or you have to aim and pee into this little tiny hole or something like that.
So, I'm looking for a bathroom and finding bathroom after bathroom that isn't suitable--one actually was in the middle of a crowded office and another was full of body parts and such. They kept getting more and more unsuitable until I finally found this big room with a dresser and a dirty toilet in it. And though the toilet was REALLY dirty, like, from the worst pit stop you've ever visited, I thought, "Fine, it'll do," because all the others were so very much worse and I had to go really badly by that time. So I sit down to pee and then I realise there's this guy in there and I realise it must be his bedroom I'm in, because he's getting ready for his day. And he's smearing this terrible strawberry-scented lotion through his hair and the smell is so strong it just makes me want to vomit, but he doesn't seem to be taking any notice of me so I just think I'll do my business and get out of there as soon as possible. But he's taking a really long time at it: even smearing the stuff through his armpit hair and all. And then he grabs me and starts smearing the stuff all over me and I can't get away and I can't get it off and I try fighting him but he's too strong for me. So I decide to scream for help and at first nothing came out but then it did and I woke myself up screaming. And I heard M. in the kitchen making his breakfast and he shouted "What the hell was that?" or something and came running in. And I had to get up because I was so freaked out.
So, being in a bathroom with a strange guy who was smearing strawberry-scented lotion on me was the essence of it. I felt so trapped and out of control. I wonder now if it was some throwback to the rape I suffered 25 years ago. Was there some hint of strawberry in the rapist's smell? I can't remember. And like I said, it seems silly now that I've written it. But it's still giving me the heebie jeebies even now.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
1. Make a stupid list of 25 things to do when you can't sleep.
2. Visit all your forums. Find nothing spectacular is going on.
3. Drink a cup of hot chocolate.
4. Smoke to excess.
5. Watch the cats spazz out.
6. Wonder why one cat is sleeping behind the microwave and then remember she's afraid of the other cats as much as I am.
7. Worry that the pain in your side is the onset of appendicitis.
8. Pee about a thousand times.
9. Think about cleaning your office. Decide that you don't care your office is a pit.
10. Go back to your regular forums again and find nothing new has happened since your last visit.
11. Consider writing something profound.
12. Fail to come up with anything profound to write.
13. Rehearse the bad dreams from last night in your mind.
14. Wonder what your day will look like tomorrow...oh, that's later today, isn't it?
15. Curse your diet because you really want to eat something fattening.
16. Get really thirsty and not drink any water because a) your water bottle is in the bedroom with your sleeping husband and b) because you don't want to spend the night peeing a thousand more times.
17. Play stupid computer games until your eyes fall out.
18. (DJs only) wonder what you will play on your next radio show.
19. Wonder what to wear later today.
20. Wonder if taking a shower would help relax you enough to go to sleep.
21. Consider sending really obnoxious forwards to everyone in your address book.
22. Wonder why you started this list in the first place.
23. Be relieved that you're almost at the end of it.
25. Yawn. A lot.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Why am I up so early? I got up at 7 a.m. because Onyx was being a total butt head, chewing on my ear and digging his claws into my neck. I could have just thrown him out of the room and gone back to sleep, but I had to pee and after that I decided I was hungry so I got up.
I'm hungry again already. That often happens when I haven't had enough sleep.
Mop the kitchen--it really needs it, but I don't want to do that. I never want to do that. Mopping is my nemesis. I think it's been four months since the last time I mopped in there (good thing we have slate grey tiles so the dirt doesn't show!) and a year since I mopped the hardwood floors. There; I've confessed to being a poor housekeeper.
Read. Don't really feel like doing that either, but it's an option.
Practice my flute. I've been into doing that lately. I've finally reached the point where practicing is a joy to me and not something I dread and I'm seeing vast improvement. M. and I play and sing together almost every night, too. Sometimes we do well, sometimes not so well. We have a tentative goal of putting enough of a set together that we could play at the Grand Junction Ren Faire at the end of the summer, but if that doesn't materialise that's okay too.
Anyway, it seems too early to practice somehow. My usual time is two, two-thirty-ish. I find it helps to stick with that routine.
I wonder sometimes about my lack of significant thought. Other people I know who write blogs always seem to have a theme, something to say that's relevant. I don't. I just drift along most of the time and keeping this blog is a random occurrence. I suppose that's why I call it "Random Mutterings."
But then, I don't have a life, do I? My pdoc brought that up, not the last time I saw him, which was just a few days ago, but the time before last. He said, "How can you have anything to talk about if you don't do anything?" My friend S. and I decided he must be a classic Meyers-Briggs "S" type personality, to think that only concrete things matter in conversation. But sometimes I wish I had more of a life. I'd like to do more. Take an art class, for example. I'd like very much to take another dance class, if there were one taught by an instructor I really trusted.
That's the problem with living where I do. I know most of the people here and, face it, except for a few, I don't like or trust them very much. Many seem to be stuck in a party-hearty state which I passed through in my late teens. I just don't find I have anything to discuss with them. And the ones I'd like to know better are all in hiding, as am I.
This is not to discount the fact that I am naturally quite shy and aloof. Maybe it's all my problem. Maybe if I gave other people another chance I'd find someone I really hit it off with. But the last two times I got burned were pretty severe strikes to my self-confidence and now I just don't want to deal...
For the most part I'm happy with my Internet life. But there's a problem with my closest friend being in San Francisco and others being scattered around the globe. You just can't go out and get a cup of coffee with the Internet. I guess you kind of could, but it isn't the same as sitting in a coffee shop and chatting with someone you really feel close to.
I'm sleepy now. Maybe it's time to try to take a nap...
Sunday, February 8, 2009
This invitation upset me. It brought back a lot of memories of that production and of that period of my life. The production aspect wasn't so bad--I never became close to anyone in the cast but that's me for you. Never quite fitting into a group. My best friend was in the band, though, and we had some good times. And I liked the director quite a lot. Sunday rehearsals also gave me an excuse to skip church, which I had never liked going to, but had to go to as my father was the minister.
But that period of my life was a bad one. I was severely depressed and sick most of the time. I hated school--not because of the classes, but because most of my peers treated me with utter contempt and even downright abuse. My family viewed my spiraling depression as...I don't know what. Just me being a bad kid, I guess. I constantly heard I was "not living up to my potential." I nearly flunked out of Physics and that was a sign I was bad, too, not that something was severely wrong in my life.
I started keeping my first journal at that time.
Last night as we were sitting on the couch vegging after dinner, M. asked me, "So are you thinking of how we can get the money to go back to this reunion?" He asked it with a laugh and I knew he wasn't serious but it made me think. Maybe if we were closer to Grosse Pointe and not in such economic distress, I'd want to go. But why? I can't think of one single person from that production that I'd want to see again in real life. Well, maybe one. But that's not enough to make me want to relive the trauma of those days. So why am I even interested in going? Why am I somewhat sorry that I can't?
I had nightmares about being back in High School all night.
M. is back from the store now and I have to go help him unload the groceries, so once again I am left with no answers, only questions. And I leave you with the same.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Partly it's because M. is working and I am alone here. He's working a long day: he was gone before I woke up and won't be home until nine or ten tonight, at last report. He picked up some temp hours helping move the MSC book store into its temporary new lodgings in "The Pavilion"--a tent they set up to house all the things that are going to be out of homes once the construction on a brand new student center commences. A book store in a tent in Colorado in the dead of winter: how dumb its that? Anyway, it's some work hours. And though they don't pay much, I should be happy about it. Income is something we've seen WAY too little of in the past year. But I'm not happy. I just want my boo home with me. I don't care if we're even doing anything together. I just feel better when he's here. I know I should be more independent of him, but I'm not yet. And there it is.
But mostly I'm thinking about music. I tried practicing on my Irish flute both yesterday and today and just when I thought I was getting better at playing it, all of a sudden I find I'm not so great after all. I keep hearing the little voice in my head that says, "You can't do this." This is the same voice I heard when I was playing in BSS and I actually was a pretty good flute player. Granted, that was on a silver flute and the two are very different. So different, in fact, that now I can't play the silver flute; the embouchure change is just too challenging. So I feel where, at least I had one thing I was good at now I have nothing at all.
I want to play music again. I want to sing again. Both these things I have wanted since I can remember and I also feel that I have been blocked from expressing myself muscially from many different sources, most recently the bad shit in BSS. It's taken me six years to begin to get over that and start playing again. And I was happy that I was doing it. But today...I just don't feel the joy in music. I only feel the discouragement.
I played a band I knew a little (Beltaine, from Durango, CO...I wonder whatever happened to them? I tried Googling them today and the most recent reference I could find was from 2004.) on my radio show the other night. And I found myself thinking, "Why could we not have been that good?" Why did we have to go through all this horrible dysfunction? Why couldn't I have been that good? Why did I have to let the dysfunction get me down to the point where now I feel as though I am starting all over again?
Because that's what it is: starting all over again. I am trying to remind myself of the first Celtic band I was in, a one-shot put together over the space of two weeks for a St. Patrick's Day gig. (Actually, I think we did end up playing together a little longer than that; I remember doing a Celtic festival with the same folks.) And I was just starting out and I wasn't very good, and I had to keep swabbing my flute out every few tunes just to give my lips a rest. That's what it's like now. I'd like to blame my difficulties on the instrument and say the build-up of condensation isn't flowing properly or something, but it's not that. It's me. I haven't played in six years and now that's coming back to me. also, I'm trying to play on a new instrument in a new style and I can't get my fingers in the proper position unless I take things very slowly and carefully.
I tell myself these things should not matter to me. I tell myself we're just playing in our living room for our own enjoyment and the speed of our playing is not a factor we should worry about. but I do worry about it. I want to play out again. I want to do it now, or at least soon. I want to see some progress that I'm not seeing.
I want to feel like a musician again. i want to merit the name.
Over and out.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Post of Threes
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
3. Caitlin Ruadh
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. I'm a really good cook (does that count as a physical skill? I think it does, so I guess it does.)
2. I don't have an eating disorder any more.
3. I am finally content with the way my body looks.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. I have bad anxiety attacks.
2. I don't get enough exercise (see above).
3. I smoke.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Pennsylvania Dutch
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
3. Going out of the house
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING NOW:
1. Purple thermal jammies
2. Burgundy fleece bathrobe
3. Wedding ring
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
2. Brian Eno
3. Niamh Parsons
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS (RIGHT NOW):
1. "Love Reign O'er Me," The Who
2. "Temple of Love," Sisters of Mercy
3. "Prayer to St. Francis," Sarah MacLachlan
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
(Stolen wholesale from the person who sent me this meme)
1. Mutual attraction
2. Mutual respect
3. Overlapping senses of humor
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:
1. I am a vegetarian.
2. I've published a book.
3. I used to take LSD regularly.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX OTHER PEOPLE THAT APPEAL
3. Good taste in clothes
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Making Music
2. The Internet
3. Computer adventure games
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
If I wanted to do something really badly other than filling out this
survey, I hope I'd be doing it.
THREE CAREERS YOU ARE CONSIDERING/YOU HAVE CONSIDERED:
1. Novelist (I kind of am one, but not the kind that gets paid :D)
2. Musician (I kind of am one of those too, but my playing right now is limited to our living room.)
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
THREE BOYS NAMES YOU LIKE:
THREE GIRLS NAMES YOU LIKE:
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Get a publishing contract with a major publisher.
2. Get happier.
3. Perform music again.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
1. I have long hair.
2. I like to wear pretty dresses.
3. I am not the breadwinner in my relationship.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. I like loud rock music.
2. I don't do a lot of cleaning around the house.
3. I can compartmentalize bad thoughts for an infinite space of time.
THREE PEOPLE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW:
Whoever wants to.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I tried going to bed a couple hours ago, but couldn't get into dreamland...too much coffee after a very nice dinner out, I guess. I thought about reading Watchmen, but I am too tired to do that. I'm tired of playing stupid computer games, hoping they will bore me into a stupor deep enough I can go to sleep. I can;t practice my flute because M. is asleep. So here I am with nothing really to say except that I am not sleeping. Worrying about money. Worrying (a little) about the fact that I wrote H. an e-mail today thanking her for the validation she gave to me through her spilling her experience with the T.O....a conversation I am not at all sure actually happened at this point. Worrying what I will do if she contacts me and wants to come over to my messy, smelly house to talk. Will I clean? Will I be able to do that?
My cigarette won't stay lit and the demon children are messing about in the kitchen cupboards again.
I ate myself into pain at the re-opening of our favourite in-town restaurant today, so why am I thinking about Chinese food? Oh I know: because I have been thinking about the possibility of having people to dinner again after all these years of not socializing at all. And now I have begun to wonder if it might be better to start slow, with a dinner out on neutral turf. Hence the Chinese food. Everyone likes Chinese food, don't they? Or Mexican.
I have smoked way too much the past few days. Need to quit. Could I do it soon or should I wait until spring when kicking M. out of the house to smoke would be more humane? The weather here is pretty wretched. Though today was a nice day; I got away with wearing a dress and my leather coat when we went to the big city and when we went out to dinner. By the time we were through with dinner it was freezing though.
I am tired of my hair being grey and my eyebrows needing waxed. But my disability lawyer says it would not be good to go to my hearing looking as if I have just come from a salon, so I haven't had anything done about them in a year. It would help me immensely if I had any idea whatsoever WHEN this mythical hearing was actually going to take place, but still no word on that.
Bleah. I am beginning to see double so I think I'll try this bed thing again...
Thursday, January 15, 2009
What I am doing: just finished practicing on my flute for about 15-20 minutes, mostly the same reel over and over. Still tasting my Lean Cuisine lunch in my mouth despite its being an hour since I ate it and smoking two cigarettes between now and then. Debating taking a shower and getting dressed, but getting dressed at this point seems premature as I'll just have to change again for my radio show tonight. I feel like dressing specially for it for the first time in a long while. What I'll wear, I don't know. Debating trying to e-mail H. of the Scones to tell her to contact me if she wants to talk or vent. Debating curling up on the couch with my copy of Watchmen, but that seems a bit challenging, especially as reading it has been giving me odd dreams. Like last night I dreamed I was dating Rorschach--he looked like Daniel Craig under the mask--and we were in my father's old church planning a fishing trip. Weird.
What I've been thinking about: going to Harmony House and Mr. Tony's sub shop with Stef during exam time, the only time that our school gave underclassmen any freedom to get off campus during the day. Walking in the rain with N. and singing the entire score to Jesus Christ, Superstar one August evening in New York as we searched in vain for a place to get a latte. We couldn't find one until we hit the East Village and we walked all the way from 81st Street. Santa Barbara: I hated it there except for the dancing and the food. The food was awesome. I remember the Palace Cafe with its fancy New Orleans menu and wonder if it's still there. I remember Aldo's Italian restaurant: Calimari Picatta and Fettucini Alfredo, yum! Trying to find good Indian food was a washout though, especially when you were used to the myriad of places on East 6th Street in NYC. There was one place but it was very expensive and we didn't go there often.
Food, food, food. I think a lot about food. I think about the days when I was such a fantastic cook and wonder whether they will ever come again. Being on WW, it seems unlikely. I've tried a number of their recipes and I've never found one that was bad, but I miss the freedom of just picking something out of a cookbook and trying it out. I miss the huge Indian feasts I used to prepare before I got so depressed.
I miss dancing. I wish there were a beginning jazz class or a modern class I could take: something not too strenuous so I could get back into shape with it. Something, most importantly, taught by someone else. I am tired of having to create everything I want in my life.
I do not like to get my hands dirty. I want to start over with a clean slate, tabula rasa, and I know this is impossible. I want someone to come into my life and fix the things I don't want to deal with: clean my house, fix my garden and yard. I wonder how I will cope with the latter when spring comes. I look at the calendar and realise that spring is really not that far off: just 2 months until St. Patrick's Day. There have been St. Patrick's Days in the past when I was running about in t-shirts and shorts. I wonder if this year will bring one of them.
I do not like to get my hands dirty. I feel that I am like a baby crying for someone to change her dirty diaper, when I know that I have to do the hard work of healing for myself. I don't want to do it. Still, I have made progress. I have practiced on my flute. I wrote a song. These things have made me happy. Happiness is still an alien sensation. I wonder how long it will be before I begin to freak and back off of it. I hope this time I won't but I don't know.
Yes, I think I may take that shower. It seems the thing to do next. It seems time. Maybe it's late in the afternoon, but better late than never, as the saying goes.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
M. just got back from a run to the store. There he happened to run into one of the primary members of the last band the Toxic One was in. Very carefully (in his opinion, and he can be careful in these matters) he steered the conversation to the band's current lineup. And from there the subject just happened to flow to the Toxic One herself. Well, this band mate said about the T.O., "That woman is a powerful force for evil." Heh Heh. It seems they experienced everything that we did. The hostility on stage. The antagonism towards all the women and the schmoozing to the men. The lack of talent and lack of follow through on the work. Finally, they did what I should have done and fired her. Good for them!! R & H, you're invited to dinner any time.
My therapist is right: the Toxic One is burning her bridges. Maybe someday soon she'll see that she's burnt them all and get the hint that she needs to go somewhere else. Somewhere that people aren't all nursing vivid fantasies of choking the life out of her.
At the same time I feel that it's sad. Because even way back when we were still in BSS together, she said that all the projects she's been in have turned out the same and she didn't want that to happen again. But she won't see that she's bringing it upon herself with her behaviour. And that she needs to change if she wants her life to turn out any differently.
I told her in the letter I sent her (being too cowardly to say it to her face, mea culpa) that before I could even consider having her in my life again I needed 1. a serious apology for the way she had treated me and 2. for her to get some intensive therapy. I have never received the first and I have serious doubts as to whether she will ever go for the second. No, not doubts: I KNOW she will never go for the second. She's locked herself into a life path that works for her in some strange way and though it causes pain and grief to everyone around her she doesn't care to change it. And the worst of it is that she doesn't seem to care, as long as she can keep going on the way she is. She's rather have the things around her shatter and die and then move on to the next unsuspecting thing than take a good hard loook at herself. She's an elephant in a china shop. Just unaware. I think she could be aware, but it would be painful and everything in her life is focused towards avoiding pain and discomfort.
Still, though I feel it's sad, I can't bring myself to feel pity for her or to forgive. Maybe that hurts me more than anyone. I don't know. All I know is it's been six years since I broke up BSS by pulling out of it and I am just now to the point where I can begin to look forward to playing music again without intensely painful memories stopping me from it. Taken with the four years the band was actually active, that's nearly ten years that my life was given over to the T.O. and her tricks. I'll never get those years back, but now I'm beginning to be able to go on.
R & H are lucky. They had a band before the T.O. came into their lives and they did the right thing by firing her and hiring someone else (I'm a little ashamed to admit that when I found this out I was envious; I wished I was the kind of person people thought of when hiring new bandmates, but oh well). So they have something still and I hope that they won't let their experience taint their appreciation and playing of music the way I let it taint mine.
Lastly, I want to thank H. for spilling to M. there in the grocery store. I know you try to be diplomatic and I know the reasons for it, but sometimes you just gotta. And it's helped me a lot today to hear your views, even if they come second hand.
Now I have to run and get the chili on...
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Besides, I'm just really bored right now.
1. What did you do in 2008 that you;d never done before?
Hire a lawyer to help with my disability claim. Decide that all my cats should be indoor-only from now on, after losing one to stray dogs (also a first, though a sad one). Join Facebook and look up old friends.
2. Did you keep your New Year's Resolutions and will you make more for next year?
I don't make New Year's resolutions. I hope to be growing all through my life, not just due to some spurious date.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
4. Did anyone close to you die?
I woman I’d been close to several years ago died in 2007 but I just found out about it in the latter part of 2008. I wish we’d been closer in the past few years.
5. What countries did you visit?
None, except in my mind!
6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Better mental and physical health. More motivation to do the things I really want to do and achieve what I want in my life.
7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
June 29, 2008 was the day our dear cat, Gwion Bach, was killed by dogs in our own backyard..
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Um…just making it through the year, I guess.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Not quitting smoking. Not keeping up with my music and becoming a phenomenal flute player.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just the usual mental illness.
11. What was the best thing someone bought you?
A new fridge.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My in-laws’, without whose support we would be living in a small truck with five cats.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Can’t think of anyone in particular this year.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Mortgage, food, bills.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
I don’t tend to get that excited about anything these days, but that may be the medication talking. Getting back in touch with Stef was very cool, though!
16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
"One More Chance" by Sandy Denny, because M. and I are trying to reclaim it from the disaster that was BSS.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? About the same.
b) fatter or skinner? A little skinnier. I was a lot skinnier, but I gained about ten lbs over the last month or two..
c) richer or poorer? Definitely poorer. See comment about living in a truck
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Smoking and being depressed.
20. How do you plan to spend Christmas?
We spent Christmas Eve with the in-laws and Christmas Day I did my radio show.
21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
I fall in love with M. over and over every day.
22. How many one night stands?
23. What was your favorite TV program?
Don’t watch TV.
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I didn’t meet anyone new to hate, so no.
25. What was the best book you read?
I found the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer oddly compelling. I really didn’t expect to.
26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Can’t think of any at all! Though I’ve been a DJ for 15 years I’m seriously behind in knowing about new music.
27. What did you want and get?
Nothing that I can think of offhand.
28. What did you want and not get?
To get out of the financial pit we’re in.
29. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hairspray and The Dark Knight.
30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 46. M. brought me breakfast in bed and later his folks took us out to a fancy restaurant we’d never been to before.
31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Easy access to my creative side. More mania and less depression.
32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Jammies, whenever I can get away with them!
33. What kept you sane?
Facebook, MCHY, my internet friends, my darling boo and his family.
34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
35. What political issue stirred you the most?
I don’t generally get that stirred up by politics, but Prop. 8 had me going even though it was an issue in another state.
36. Who do you miss?
Heather (the woman who died), Noel, even some people from my past who I cut off because the relationships weren’t healthy for me.
37. Who was the best new person you met?
I met a few new people but none of them struck me one way or the other, really.
38. What was the best thing you ate?
I love all food, so I can’t answer this question properly. Though, the roast duck with truffle mashed potatoes I had for my birthday dinner was way good. I have also become addicted to the enchiladas suiza from Fiesta Vallarta and order them every chance I get.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008?
Getting from where I am to where I want to be is going to be a lot harder than I want and I need to make more of an effort (sigh).
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
The pretty much sums up my life for the past few years.
From “Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd:
There is no pain; you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move, but I can’t hear what you’re saying
When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look, but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown; the dream is gone.
And I have become comfortably numb.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
I'm sure you all wanted to know this.
I never used to shave. I remember that when I was twelve my brother gave me an electric razor for Christmas and I was actually kind of offended--like, "Oh, now I'm grown up I'm supposed to do this thing that men don't have to do, not for my own benefit but for someone else's?" (I guess that's not really fair, as men "have to" shave their faces and if they chose to do it they have to keep it up pretty much every day. But that's the point really--that men are free, in the main, to shave or not to shave and women are expected to shave whether they want to or not.)
Anyway. I never used to shave--I think that razor lay in a drawer in my dresser the entire time I lived at home. I didn't feel particularly put out by the fact that I didn't shave, as none of my friends did, either--we weren't that kind of crowd. I mean, the "do girly things" kind of crowd, although I did wear makeup from my junior year in high school on until about 20 years ago and still do on special occasions (and enjoy it when I take the trouble).
But then a few years ago we were going to a week-long music festival in the summer. And I knew what people think of "the kind of women who don't shave." And while that doesn't bother me, really, I just didn't want to deal with it. So I took up shaving, and have ever since. And I find that since starting it's hard to stop--I feel cleaner when I shave and I have this idea that I smell better. I like the smoothness of my legs and armpits and looking down to see, not a bunch of coarse hair, but skin.
So that's the story of my shaving. Except, for the past year or so I have found any kind of personal hygiene related activity comes harder and harder to me. I used to shower at least every other day and bathe and shave twice a week at least. But with this depression, I find it hard to care. Hard to get motivated. I now shower once a week in a good week--only when my hair becomes too greasy to put up with any longer and needs to be washed. And as for bathing and shaving, well...let's just say I count it an heroic accomplishment to do it at all.
I wonder why this is. I know a lot of people with chronic physical and mental illnesses find bathing challenging. It just seems overwhelming. There are so many steps involved. And I often wonder what the point of it is. I never go out and no one ever sees me, so why should I bother? My psychiatrist would answer that I should make it a point to get out more and the problem would solve itself, but I wonder. Anyway, I can't see the point in getting out more, either. There is nothing in this little town that draws me anymore. Nothing I want to do and no one I want to see. All my social life takes place on the internet. So who cares if I have hairy legs?
Well, I do. And that's the one thing that keeps me doing it maybe every ten days. In the summer, maybe more often. I just wish I could do it once and be done with it for life, though. It would make things so much simpler.
So would a massive cash influx, but that's the subject of another blog altogether.
Friday, January 2, 2009
I'm actually beginning to wonder if it isn't something physical, not just psychological. Mono maybe--okay; you're only supposed to be able to get that once but I've already had it twice so what's another infection with it to me? Or maybe something more serious like leukemia or some other kind of cancer. That would just make my day complete (sarcasm).
Whatever. I think I'm going to go lie down.