While I often assume everyone knows what I mean, I am often proved wrong, and so let me clarify:
that last post's title is a link to the song I can't stop singing.
My family had cable, and hence MTV, for a very brief time in the late 80s. Man oh man I love a good drum machine, dance song, whatever. It's formative; that's my excuse.
How is it so possible, over and over, for the littlest things to get me so down, so very very down? Life right now is not nearly so bad as it has been before; it is sunny today; I am reading Pattern Recognition by Gibson for the first time, and it's great. But weeks are slipping by. Hours. Blank and numb, blank and numb. The emotion I get lately is scared. More and more alien, too.
Let's get rid of that, huh? let's do.
30 January 2008
29 January 2008
28 January 2008
A few true things.
I am deathly afraid of scrapbooking. So many little pieces of paper. So many thick-with-glue pages. So much JUNK. AHHHHHH.
I am thankful for concerned friends, re: my big mistake at work. It's okay now, as okay as it can be in regards to me. That means no one is firing me. It also means we pay 4K to reprint a book that isn't going to sell much at all. Still lame, still me feeling lame, still my problem because no one is making me feel bad, but I do, I do.
I am far too easily annoyed by people. I am dehydrated. I am having a hard time with appetite, as in having one for food. The whites of my eyes have been red for two days, not itchy, and I'm not sure why. I think my tooth enamel is dying, I think I need to get some more sleep, I think I need to ... be better already.
Look at your pretty nails, little girl. Think about the mountains, think about the snow. Gonna be okay.
I am thankful for concerned friends, re: my big mistake at work. It's okay now, as okay as it can be in regards to me. That means no one is firing me. It also means we pay 4K to reprint a book that isn't going to sell much at all. Still lame, still me feeling lame, still my problem because no one is making me feel bad, but I do, I do.
I am far too easily annoyed by people. I am dehydrated. I am having a hard time with appetite, as in having one for food. The whites of my eyes have been red for two days, not itchy, and I'm not sure why. I think my tooth enamel is dying, I think I need to get some more sleep, I think I need to ... be better already.
Look at your pretty nails, little girl. Think about the mountains, think about the snow. Gonna be okay.
24 January 2008
working, working.
One of the books I worked on just got back from the printer ... with a typo in the subtitle on the front cover. Observe:
"Perfo mance"
It's kind of my fault, more like my department's fault. Lots of us do checks on these things. We all missed it, apparently.
My immediate responses:
1.) Really? Really? Wha?
2.) Am I going to be fired?
3.) (sick to stomach)
4.) I don't need to be upset about this. Hmm. Stopping the upset is harder work.
Five more hours? Yeah.
"Perfo mance"
It's kind of my fault, more like my department's fault. Lots of us do checks on these things. We all missed it, apparently.
My immediate responses:
1.) Really? Really? Wha?
2.) Am I going to be fired?
3.) (sick to stomach)
4.) I don't need to be upset about this. Hmm. Stopping the upset is harder work.
Five more hours? Yeah.
22 January 2008
And the Fed disappoints --
Okay, okay, I know the Fed dropping has no effect on loans I have already signed for. Sad news, but true news.
My two cats are sharing a piece of furniture again. Four months ago, I would not have believed this could be possible; they were wrestling and yowling every minute of every day. Now they snuggle, almost. V. cute.
Quilts, laptops, big LCD screens, and magic Microsoft ergonomic keyboards are calling me, along with freelance editing money, and so I go. Just wanted yall to know I know a thing about economics.
My two cats are sharing a piece of furniture again. Four months ago, I would not have believed this could be possible; they were wrestling and yowling every minute of every day. Now they snuggle, almost. V. cute.
Quilts, laptops, big LCD screens, and magic Microsoft ergonomic keyboards are calling me, along with freelance editing money, and so I go. Just wanted yall to know I know a thing about economics.
ZOMG the Fed dropped!
TO 3.5%! Go buy a house today! (I think it affects houses, anyway. Not so sure.)
I'm going to wait a few days and see if the folks I have loans with offer me better consolidation interest rates ... really, anything better than 7.8% sounds great.
See, when you have 60 - 70k in debt, and more debt on its way, and none of it is credit debt, mind you, you pay attention to interest rates. Like a hawk. I nearly swerved when I heard that on NPR this morning.
Also, hey Democratic presidential candidates, fighting is cute for a little while, like Hello Kitty merchandise -- and then it is so boring. I am learning nothing about Obama's plan of hope or Clinton's views of herself as a CEO. I am learning only that I like the way Obama argues better, and that it seems fishy when your former-president husband is campaigning for you. Yeah, spouses do campaign for each other all the time, but not everyone's spouse is a FORMER PRESIDENT.
And also, please watch A Daily Show streaming, like I do ... Jon, Jon, I can declare my love for you all day. Bush would ask 'Your Majesty' nicely for lower oil prices? Great. While selling arms to the most unstable region globally.
I still want nuclear disarmament for Christmas. Even for Groundhog's Day.
I'm going to wait a few days and see if the folks I have loans with offer me better consolidation interest rates ... really, anything better than 7.8% sounds great.
See, when you have 60 - 70k in debt, and more debt on its way, and none of it is credit debt, mind you, you pay attention to interest rates. Like a hawk. I nearly swerved when I heard that on NPR this morning.
Also, hey Democratic presidential candidates, fighting is cute for a little while, like Hello Kitty merchandise -- and then it is so boring. I am learning nothing about Obama's plan of hope or Clinton's views of herself as a CEO. I am learning only that I like the way Obama argues better, and that it seems fishy when your former-president husband is campaigning for you. Yeah, spouses do campaign for each other all the time, but not everyone's spouse is a FORMER PRESIDENT.
And also, please watch A Daily Show streaming, like I do ... Jon, Jon, I can declare my love for you all day. Bush would ask 'Your Majesty' nicely for lower oil prices? Great. While selling arms to the most unstable region globally.
I still want nuclear disarmament for Christmas. Even for Groundhog's Day.
21 January 2008
when antibiotics fail
The nurse at the walk-in clinic that prescribed yet another round of Amoxicillin for me two weeks ago said, as she wrote the script, "If you don't feel completely better when these are done, call your doctor and tell her there was a failure."
A FAILURE!
That is so much more intense than I would have thought to describe this. The meds have FAILED. Of course, what will she do? I do not know. Usually I would be prescribed Augmentin at this point, for another two weeks, at which point I would get to call and say, "Those meds also FAILED." They are always failing me.
I have ideas, though: better allergy meds so my own body stops fighting me instead of this foreign invader; a referral to an ENT dude; a scan of my head ... My new insurance is so much better than my old insurance; I feel like taking full advantage of it.
I broke out the Vicks crud the other night. So gross, so gross. And so effective at helping me sleep and wake up a little more human.
Long ago, one reflective day, I was considering all the ills I get, and saw that they were all connected by overreaction. Migraines as an overreaction in my vascular system when either a new storm front rolls in, I wake up late, I maybe eat weird things, or life is terrible. Allergies as an overreaction to dust, which will not kill me like my body believes. Raynaud's as an overreaction to cold, kicking my capillaries into freaking out that cold air is here and we must contain all body heat and never let it go. Hypoglycemia, which still feels like the fakest thing ever, as a very real overreaction to dropping blood sugar levels.
Oh dear, oh dear body, please calm down. I'm doing what I can to help you out. "Body / my house / my horse my hound" ...
In all of this, I am a knitting genius. I know my gauge, thank you! I know how to measure things! I am very pleased with the adaptation of a pattern I'm doing, but will keep it under wraps for a little bit longer, until it is delivered to its intended host!
Very soon, I will start some lovely-sounding mittens, socks that may or may not kill my desire to knit socks (which I think I'll love doing), maybe a huge scarf for myself in bulky yarn, a hat for Noah with the leftover alpaca from his Fibonacci scarf ...
Sigh, being. Any recommendations on light boxes or full-spectrum bulbs? I need more sunshine, I can feel it.
A FAILURE!
That is so much more intense than I would have thought to describe this. The meds have FAILED. Of course, what will she do? I do not know. Usually I would be prescribed Augmentin at this point, for another two weeks, at which point I would get to call and say, "Those meds also FAILED." They are always failing me.
I have ideas, though: better allergy meds so my own body stops fighting me instead of this foreign invader; a referral to an ENT dude; a scan of my head ... My new insurance is so much better than my old insurance; I feel like taking full advantage of it.
I broke out the Vicks crud the other night. So gross, so gross. And so effective at helping me sleep and wake up a little more human.
Long ago, one reflective day, I was considering all the ills I get, and saw that they were all connected by overreaction. Migraines as an overreaction in my vascular system when either a new storm front rolls in, I wake up late, I maybe eat weird things, or life is terrible. Allergies as an overreaction to dust, which will not kill me like my body believes. Raynaud's as an overreaction to cold, kicking my capillaries into freaking out that cold air is here and we must contain all body heat and never let it go. Hypoglycemia, which still feels like the fakest thing ever, as a very real overreaction to dropping blood sugar levels.
Oh dear, oh dear body, please calm down. I'm doing what I can to help you out. "Body / my house / my horse my hound" ...
In all of this, I am a knitting genius. I know my gauge, thank you! I know how to measure things! I am very pleased with the adaptation of a pattern I'm doing, but will keep it under wraps for a little bit longer, until it is delivered to its intended host!
Very soon, I will start some lovely-sounding mittens, socks that may or may not kill my desire to knit socks (which I think I'll love doing), maybe a huge scarf for myself in bulky yarn, a hat for Noah with the leftover alpaca from his Fibonacci scarf ...
Sigh, being. Any recommendations on light boxes or full-spectrum bulbs? I need more sunshine, I can feel it.
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