I hate the way my writing sounds lately.
There was a time when I could spend an hour or two on a paragraph, a story, or poem or something; then give up for a while, but I always saved it. That way in case I had more inspiration a little later I could finish it. Not lately. I spent two hours this afternoon on a 'short creative piece' that was an assignment for an online class I'm taking. I reread it and then promptly hit delete and shut down the program.
I think my muse is pissed at me. Since I've been making an effort to drink less alcohol and more water, I'm guessing she is going through withdrawals.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Hard to find time
I'm not sure if it's age, or it could be that I don't eat right, and I don't exercise enough, but damn, I'm just lazy all the time. I find myself looking so forward to 10:00 and then absolutely coveting my sleep time. Today I've walked a mile and a half on the treadmill, and I did yoga along with a DVD since I missed last night's class. I had breakfast and I balanced the checkbook and I got my to do list going. I have the details of the offer I wrote last night all worked out and now I've got to go get signatures after lunch and then get it turned in. I have two things to do while I'm out, and then I've got the afternoon until about 6 to get the house cleaned. Dang, this house is an absolute pit, but I just can't seem to motivate myself to do what needs to be done! It's not like I don't have time, I just spend so much of that time doing what amounts to nothing! I'm kind of a mess, but actually today I feel better. Wallowing, that's what I'm doing. I sincerely hope that I can look back on these posts and see some kind of pattern, or sense. It certainly isn't apparent now! Oh yeah, Beezer is a problem again. With his DUI he seems to have sunk into a deeper depression. I'm not sure what to do about him. I'm thinking of telling his dad about the DUI. I'd hoped he'd tell him himself, but that's not happening.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
A scattered being...
Yes, I've already missed a day. Get over it. This is a post that I'm just writing for that aformentioned reason that I just want to get the back story down... There is absolutely no point to this at all.
On Sundays, I like to stay in bed, reading the newspaper, sipping nummy coffee and watching the CBS morning show. I want that cocoon-y feeling to last all day. Alas, I'm a Realtor and Sundays are our busiest day, and this Sunday was just that.
I knew I was going to show one client three houses that her husband had already seen. This was to be a cursory second showing just to make sure they were both on the same page. I forgot that not only are this couple not on the same page ever.... they are really not even reading the same book! So, what I thought would be 45 minutes turned into an hour and a half. This started to crush into the time I had set aside for my next showings of three houses to a young couple just starting their home search... but not seriously - that is until my ex-husband, the father of my oldest and most perplexing child Beezer called. A call from your ex, no matter how even keeled your relationship has become, can be stressful. Add to that, the fact that he's calling because your mutual son hasn't returned any of his calls... since MAY!
I've always tried to keep the whole split family thing to a minimum. I apply heavily the old addage 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.' Which does work, most of the time. I'm fairly pleased with the outcome of our 45 minute conversation, after which I called the call-delinquent son. "Please call your dad" I begged. "OK, but I'm just going into a meeting." he said, none too convincingly. I cajoled, he demurred, I repeated, he begged off. So, 4 hours later, I have no idea where things stand.
Like I said, there's no point whatsoever to this post.
On Sundays, I like to stay in bed, reading the newspaper, sipping nummy coffee and watching the CBS morning show. I want that cocoon-y feeling to last all day. Alas, I'm a Realtor and Sundays are our busiest day, and this Sunday was just that.
I knew I was going to show one client three houses that her husband had already seen. This was to be a cursory second showing just to make sure they were both on the same page. I forgot that not only are this couple not on the same page ever.... they are really not even reading the same book! So, what I thought would be 45 minutes turned into an hour and a half. This started to crush into the time I had set aside for my next showings of three houses to a young couple just starting their home search... but not seriously - that is until my ex-husband, the father of my oldest and most perplexing child Beezer called. A call from your ex, no matter how even keeled your relationship has become, can be stressful. Add to that, the fact that he's calling because your mutual son hasn't returned any of his calls... since MAY!
I've always tried to keep the whole split family thing to a minimum. I apply heavily the old addage 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.' Which does work, most of the time. I'm fairly pleased with the outcome of our 45 minute conversation, after which I called the call-delinquent son. "Please call your dad" I begged. "OK, but I'm just going into a meeting." he said, none too convincingly. I cajoled, he demurred, I repeated, he begged off. So, 4 hours later, I have no idea where things stand.
Like I said, there's no point whatsoever to this post.
Friday, November 03, 2006
I come up empty
I'm enrolled in a creative writing course... I pledged to the all knowing unseen Internet gods that I'd post once daily...which by the way was my reasoning for creating a blog in the first place. So you'd think that I'd have this, these, committments topmost on my mind - but noooooo! Having said that you'd think I'd blame the oftimes aforementioned hormonal fluctuations, or at the very least, blame the on-call-ness of being a Realtor (with a capital R), no that's not it either. Perhaps the fact that a well-loved person from my office just succumbed to the swift yet painful death sentence of ovarian cancer - and still, I can't even claim that as reason for my lack of post. No, it's more mercurial than that, and yet, not worthy of a word like mercurial. I'm afraid it is the force I dare not name and yet.... I must name. Alas it is - Laziness.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Oh, I had to sign up to blog every day...
OK, well, it's been one of those Realtor/Mommy/Wife/Oh-yeah-i'm-also-a-person-in-here-somewhere Days!
The house is a pit, and I woke up this morning with what I thought was a clear day. So thinking I had no committments, I started picking up. Ooops, I've got a meeting at 9:30... yikes, it's 8:30 now... OK, I can shower and get there... don't forget dog food and bird seed! After the meeting, dealt with customer issues until 12:30. Downtown Dad calls, 'wanna go to lunch?' 'sure' phone calls through lunch, finally resolve issues, kids call, 'mom, where are you?' go home, dole out money, help with homework, check to see if all the ingredients are there for dinner.... run back out to yoga... back home, fix dinner, sit down to eat it and have a glass of wine - aw man, I didn't get the dog food and bird seed....Yikes, I have to post a blog a day! Whew.
Tada!
The house is a pit, and I woke up this morning with what I thought was a clear day. So thinking I had no committments, I started picking up. Ooops, I've got a meeting at 9:30... yikes, it's 8:30 now... OK, I can shower and get there... don't forget dog food and bird seed! After the meeting, dealt with customer issues until 12:30. Downtown Dad calls, 'wanna go to lunch?' 'sure' phone calls through lunch, finally resolve issues, kids call, 'mom, where are you?' go home, dole out money, help with homework, check to see if all the ingredients are there for dinner.... run back out to yoga... back home, fix dinner, sit down to eat it and have a glass of wine - aw man, I didn't get the dog food and bird seed....Yikes, I have to post a blog a day! Whew.
Tada!
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The Veil Between the Worlds
In the ancient Celtic world, time as they knew it, was divided into two halves. A dark half and a light half, expressing the cycle of life and death. The light half of the year was that of the people and the living and growing, the dark half belonged to the earth and to the spirit world and sleep. Samhain was celebrated as the beginning of a new year in the Celtic calendar. For the Celts, the dark always preceded the light instead of following it. Day began at dusk, not dawn. On this the last evening of the month of October, a seasonal feast marked the end of the "light half" of the year and the beginning of the "dark half" when it was believed that the veil between the world of the living and the spirit world was the thinnest. This season was thought to be the ideal time to contact and receive wisdom from deceased ancestors, and therefore a time for solitary introspection and reflection, a time to stretch the worldly boundaries by assuming a different identity to welcome the supernatural.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Saliva:
It is a clear liquid that's made in your mouth 24 hours a day, every day. It's made up mostly of water, with a few other chemicals. The slippery stuff is produced by the salivary glands. These glands are found on the inside of each cheek, on the bottom of the mouth, and under the jaw at the very front of the mouth. They secrete, or ooze, about 2 to 4 pints (or about 1 to 2 liters) of spit into your mouth every day!
Yay for saliva! 2 to 4 pints a day? Well, maybe. I had to fill 4 one-ounce vials at specified times on Sunday for a hormone test and I'd have never thought we made that much! This test was news to me. I'm used to peeing in bottles, or having blood tests, but spit tests? Who knew? No wonder the whole french kissing thing - mixing the hormones... starts to make sense doesn't it?
The really interesting thing to me, besides the fact that they test your spit, was that in preparation for this test, you can't put on face cream, and you have to sleep on a clean pillowcase and use clean towels. I had no idea that so many things were apsorbed through your skin! That really makes you think twice about deodorants, lotions, cleaning products!
Anyway, so at 7:30 a.m approximately 1 hour after I normally awaken (per the instructions) I took out my purple vial and the purple straw and before I brushed my teeth (ewww) and before my first cup of coffee... I started spitting. Ew.
So, you should know, I'm kind of shy about bodily functions. I ALWAYS close the door when I use the potty. I (used to, when I had one) reluctantly admit if I had my period and couldn't participate in some activity (hmmm... what would that be? Swimming? Sex? Yeah whatever.) I say that because, Downtown Dad got up about 7:20 and went into the kitchen to make coffee. I took advantage of this absense to get down to spittin' but he came back in - There I sat with a blue straw and matching vial. What could I do but explain? He left the room shaking his head.
So at 11 a.m. approximately 1 hour after breakfast... OK, so we sat around for a couple hours watching TV! I filled the green vial. I had an open house from 1 p.m. to 2:30, so that worked out perfectly with spitting in the blue vial at about 5:00. In case you are interested, my highly educated waiter-son Beezer came over for dinner - I made bacon wrapped scallops and green beans with parmesan cheese. So after socializing, I had to excuse myself around 10 to go spit into the orange vial.
All of the vials fit neatly back into the ziplock bag conveniently provided, and with the questionairre filled out, the authorization signed and the box closed and sealed with the enclosed sticker, I stored it in the refrigerator overnight, ready to pop in the mail with the prepaid postage sticker affixed.
There is really no point to this post other than to record this event. Another embarassing milestone.
Yay for saliva! 2 to 4 pints a day? Well, maybe. I had to fill 4 one-ounce vials at specified times on Sunday for a hormone test and I'd have never thought we made that much! This test was news to me. I'm used to peeing in bottles, or having blood tests, but spit tests? Who knew? No wonder the whole french kissing thing - mixing the hormones... starts to make sense doesn't it?
The really interesting thing to me, besides the fact that they test your spit, was that in preparation for this test, you can't put on face cream, and you have to sleep on a clean pillowcase and use clean towels. I had no idea that so many things were apsorbed through your skin! That really makes you think twice about deodorants, lotions, cleaning products!
Anyway, so at 7:30 a.m approximately 1 hour after I normally awaken (per the instructions) I took out my purple vial and the purple straw and before I brushed my teeth (ewww) and before my first cup of coffee... I started spitting. Ew.
So, you should know, I'm kind of shy about bodily functions. I ALWAYS close the door when I use the potty. I (used to, when I had one) reluctantly admit if I had my period and couldn't participate in some activity (hmmm... what would that be? Swimming? Sex? Yeah whatever.) I say that because, Downtown Dad got up about 7:20 and went into the kitchen to make coffee. I took advantage of this absense to get down to spittin' but he came back in - There I sat with a blue straw and matching vial. What could I do but explain? He left the room shaking his head.
So at 11 a.m. approximately 1 hour after breakfast... OK, so we sat around for a couple hours watching TV! I filled the green vial. I had an open house from 1 p.m. to 2:30, so that worked out perfectly with spitting in the blue vial at about 5:00. In case you are interested, my highly educated waiter-son Beezer came over for dinner - I made bacon wrapped scallops and green beans with parmesan cheese. So after socializing, I had to excuse myself around 10 to go spit into the orange vial.
All of the vials fit neatly back into the ziplock bag conveniently provided, and with the questionairre filled out, the authorization signed and the box closed and sealed with the enclosed sticker, I stored it in the refrigerator overnight, ready to pop in the mail with the prepaid postage sticker affixed.
There is really no point to this post other than to record this event. Another embarassing milestone.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
My Writing Candle
The match hisses alight, and gutters as it always does when it melds with the stub of wick on my favorite candle. I am patient, and await the leap of flame when it finds ignition and the small orange bud wavers to life in its violet wax canyon. I close my eyes and breath in the familiar fragrance of patchouli and lavender, inhaling the warmth of its light, letting it fill my soul. This stout candle came to me, heavy with hope and expectation on my 45th birthday, a gift from an encouraging spouse and bright-eyed children. Attached to it, along with a weighty pen and sturdy paper, a note in gaily lettered script was their insistent wish: Write. Above all. Write. So I light my candle and I try. Those wishes echo through my mind as with each inhalation I prospect for ideas, and those same wishes reverberate disappointment with each empty exhalation. But with each breath I discipline my thinking to move with that breath, and sometimes, an idea hisses in the darkness, guttering as it always does when it melds with the stub of my weighty pen on sturdy paper.
Waiting to Expectorate
This morning's doctor visit was helpful, and informative, but frustrating too - in the fact that once again, I must accept that there is no Quick-Fix or Magic-Pill to make me feel normal again. And really, if I think about it, that's ok. I have to remember that things I have to actually work at, end up working out better for me.
I like my women doctors and nurses. They patiently listen to my answers when they ask about symptoms as if I'm the only one who this has ever happened to; they cluck and chuckle sympathetically when I return to them for help after false assumptions of toughing this out, or trying something different; they nod wisely - yet non-judgementally as they once again set me on the path I know is necessary but will be full of ups and downs. The path began this time, with a visit to our Compounding Pharmacy to get a saliva test kit.
I didn't think the downs would begin so quickly though.... After my appointment, it was almost noon. I was on my way home to take Bear to lunch at an ecclectic restaurant which is only open from 11 til 2, and since the kids were off school this week, this would work out perfectly.
......when CRASH!
I'd been about 400 feet from an intersection, merging from my lane into the far left side of the two left turn lanes and Some Jerk who was behind me, took the opportunity to scoot by me on my right, before I'd completed my lane change - and skinned his car against mine. Even travelling at low speed, (at least I was) some of his cream colored Audi got on my maroon minivan, and vice-versa, and there we stood, in the middle of the intersection in the classic hands on hips stance, looking at the damage. We exchanged insurance cards and then decided to move to a nearby parking lot to call the police to make a report. Not that this makes any difference to me, but Some Jerk was a young man of middle eastern descent with a thick accent and an apparent disdain for women who weren't like him. Once the cop came, (in a town of 98% scandahoovians, one shouldn't be surprised at the fact that she was) a young fair haired woman, Some Jerk not only answered the questions she asked me, but took over the conversation. Can't people learn from the examples on Judge Judy and answer calmly, in turn and always with a deferential "ma'am" tacked on the end? His behavior earned him zero points in her book and she made that quite plain with her repeated curt reply of "sir, I'm not asking you." In the end, no citations were issued. We both got cards with each other's information on it to give to our insurance companys and we were free to go. As Some Jerk was getting into his car, the cop asked me to wait a moment and got out a diagram of the intersection to draw what actually happened. It was clear to me then that while she made no acknowledgement of guilt on either part, she believed my version as the true and correct one.
As this accident was occurring I'd been on my cell phone (OK, I didn't mention that in the report) leaving a voicemail for Downtown Dad. As Some Jerk hit me I'd yelled "Jeezuzkryst" and dropped my cell phone - voice mail still recording. So by the time we were done and I was safely parking my battered van in my driveway, about 45 minutes later, an understandably frantic Downtown Dad rang my cell again. After relating the whole tale to him, and assuring him I was alive, and not in jail, or in the hospital - I realized that I still had time to take Bear to lunch. It was after lunch that I started to feel a little - what I refer to as Wonky about driving. Every car was WAY too close to me; every turn was a set up for disaster; every time I backed up I was anticipating something going crunch. Hormones or just delayed stress? You be the judge.
Wanting only to stay home, I knew I still had to get over to the Compounding Pharmacy (which, by the way, is across the street from my accident site) to pick up the saliva test kit. This process is another learning experience for me. Apparently my hormone levels show up in my spit. This spit needs to be collected at a certain time in my cycle, and at specific times of the day and then mailed to the testing facility. So.... I'll end this post for today and go drink a lot of water, coz on Sunday, I got a lot of spittin' to do! Euuuu.
I like my women doctors and nurses. They patiently listen to my answers when they ask about symptoms as if I'm the only one who this has ever happened to; they cluck and chuckle sympathetically when I return to them for help after false assumptions of toughing this out, or trying something different; they nod wisely - yet non-judgementally as they once again set me on the path I know is necessary but will be full of ups and downs. The path began this time, with a visit to our Compounding Pharmacy to get a saliva test kit.
I didn't think the downs would begin so quickly though.... After my appointment, it was almost noon. I was on my way home to take Bear to lunch at an ecclectic restaurant which is only open from 11 til 2, and since the kids were off school this week, this would work out perfectly.
......when CRASH!
I'd been about 400 feet from an intersection, merging from my lane into the far left side of the two left turn lanes and Some Jerk who was behind me, took the opportunity to scoot by me on my right, before I'd completed my lane change - and skinned his car against mine. Even travelling at low speed, (at least I was) some of his cream colored Audi got on my maroon minivan, and vice-versa, and there we stood, in the middle of the intersection in the classic hands on hips stance, looking at the damage. We exchanged insurance cards and then decided to move to a nearby parking lot to call the police to make a report. Not that this makes any difference to me, but Some Jerk was a young man of middle eastern descent with a thick accent and an apparent disdain for women who weren't like him. Once the cop came, (in a town of 98% scandahoovians, one shouldn't be surprised at the fact that she was) a young fair haired woman, Some Jerk not only answered the questions she asked me, but took over the conversation. Can't people learn from the examples on Judge Judy and answer calmly, in turn and always with a deferential "ma'am" tacked on the end? His behavior earned him zero points in her book and she made that quite plain with her repeated curt reply of "sir, I'm not asking you." In the end, no citations were issued. We both got cards with each other's information on it to give to our insurance companys and we were free to go. As Some Jerk was getting into his car, the cop asked me to wait a moment and got out a diagram of the intersection to draw what actually happened. It was clear to me then that while she made no acknowledgement of guilt on either part, she believed my version as the true and correct one.
As this accident was occurring I'd been on my cell phone (OK, I didn't mention that in the report) leaving a voicemail for Downtown Dad. As Some Jerk hit me I'd yelled "Jeezuzkryst" and dropped my cell phone - voice mail still recording. So by the time we were done and I was safely parking my battered van in my driveway, about 45 minutes later, an understandably frantic Downtown Dad rang my cell again. After relating the whole tale to him, and assuring him I was alive, and not in jail, or in the hospital - I realized that I still had time to take Bear to lunch. It was after lunch that I started to feel a little - what I refer to as Wonky about driving. Every car was WAY too close to me; every turn was a set up for disaster; every time I backed up I was anticipating something going crunch. Hormones or just delayed stress? You be the judge.
Wanting only to stay home, I knew I still had to get over to the Compounding Pharmacy (which, by the way, is across the street from my accident site) to pick up the saliva test kit. This process is another learning experience for me. Apparently my hormone levels show up in my spit. This spit needs to be collected at a certain time in my cycle, and at specific times of the day and then mailed to the testing facility. So.... I'll end this post for today and go drink a lot of water, coz on Sunday, I got a lot of spittin' to do! Euuuu.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Just Another Thursday
I did FINALLY call my doctor to get me set up on the hormone replacement therapy. I go tomorrow and frankly, I can't wait. I thought I had hot flashes last year! Pshaw! They weren't nuthin' compared to the last couple of days. It's like someone is messing with my internal thermostat. First I am chilled, and I put on a sweatshirt, then two minutes later I am literally sweating, so I take it off... then it starts all over again. The weird thing is that it's mostly at night and in the morning. Poor Downtown Dad, he loves to cuddle, but it only lasts about 15 seconds before I'm throwing the covers off. I'm really hoping this can be fixed!
I also joined an online writing class. I always feel bouyed by their feedback - the imaginary people who populate my online world are always so nice. Jeez, there have to be at least 40 people in this class. I started out commenting on each of their introductions, but a person can only be just so friendly and after a while I had to stop. In other online classes the attrition rate is pretty high, so maybe a few will fall by the wayside.
The kids have had the week off, and while the house started out clean on Monday, we are just about at full on pig stye and it's only Thursday. The good thing is that they are getting along, so I really hate to nag. It's really been nice for me to have this time to write. You'd think with all this time I'd be able to come up with something entertaining, but nope. Maybe tomorrow.
I also joined an online writing class. I always feel bouyed by their feedback - the imaginary people who populate my online world are always so nice. Jeez, there have to be at least 40 people in this class. I started out commenting on each of their introductions, but a person can only be just so friendly and after a while I had to stop. In other online classes the attrition rate is pretty high, so maybe a few will fall by the wayside.
The kids have had the week off, and while the house started out clean on Monday, we are just about at full on pig stye and it's only Thursday. The good thing is that they are getting along, so I really hate to nag. It's really been nice for me to have this time to write. You'd think with all this time I'd be able to come up with something entertaining, but nope. Maybe tomorrow.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
So You Wanna Try Bioidentical Hormones
Last night my son Bear, who has always been very scientific, and who now has this wild hair idea that he wants to learn to fly a plane... at 13... finally plumbed the depths of Downtown Dad's knowledge with his questions, and had to go online to find his answers. He went directly to a site called www.soyouwanna.com, and printed out an 8 page narrative with indepth information, hot links and steps to accomplish the task. In my naieve optimistic way, I visited the site, and searched hopefully for something on menopause, hormones, bioidentical. Nothin! I felt a little like Dorothy when the wizard has finished handing out hearts and diplomas and testimonials... there was nothing in the 'soyouwanna' bag for me.
But this only strenthens my notion that there's a great need for blogs like this, chronicaling women's journeys through this crazy time of life. Truly, after reading Ageless, I realize that the feelings, symptoms or thoughts I have are little signposts along the road. They may not make sense at the time, but maybe viewed in retrospect or from a different perspective, a pattern may emerge. At least thats what I hope.
But this only strenthens my notion that there's a great need for blogs like this, chronicaling women's journeys through this crazy time of life. Truly, after reading Ageless, I realize that the feelings, symptoms or thoughts I have are little signposts along the road. They may not make sense at the time, but maybe viewed in retrospect or from a different perspective, a pattern may emerge. At least thats what I hope.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Today I had a cheese sandwich
So I tried to make a new blog on MSN's spaces. Heck I can't even figure out how to post to it! That stuff is nonsense.
So, since every day I whack myself upside the head and say 'why didn't you just write down your feelings yesterday, then you'd have something to build on?' I figured I'd just go ahead and write down my feelings from today.
I'm reading Suzanne Sommers newest tome, Ageless. Not that I'd really ever seek out the knowledge of Chrissy from Three's a Crowd, but having seen her talk about her book on one of the morning news programs, what she had to say really struck a chord in me. It's all about hormone replacement, and it makes a lot of sense. Last year at this time, I was going through major mondo stress because we had two mortgages and one house was not selling! This stress, coupled with the beginning stages of perimenopause caused me to think that I was headed for the looney bin. Well, once the house sold, and I got some sleep and exercise and fresh air and drank water once in a while instead of vodka, things started to look a little better. But here we are in October again, and darned if I'm not feeling the hot flashes, the glowering resentment of practically anyone who dares interrupt what I'm doing - even if its vacuuming - and the loss of interest in anything! Its starting to look like a cycle. So I'm really interested in the bioidentical hormone replacement therapy she talks about. The only thing that bothers me is - well two things... this looks expensive, and it looks like this is a long term committment.
OK, that's backdrop number one - two be built on in later posts. And now for backdrop number two....
I really think I want to write. A story, a really truly novel. I get dumb fragments of ideas and they are starting to bug me. Like little imaginary salesmen knocking on my door when I'm doing really important stuff,... like vacuuming (see backdrop number one). I MUST MUST MUST start writing these little fragment salesmen down.... and, as usual, when my fingers area firmly engaged in the asdf jkl; my mind is a blank. BUT! With this post as a backdrop, I can post ideas and not have to delve into the tedious pre-story I always feel obligated to divulge before the idea germ can be born.
Backdrop number two - done. Backdrop number three... ah yes, like the third ghost in A Christmas Carol, more mercurial and harder to pin down....
I think that it may be a combination of the previous two - this need in me to write down what happens in my life and feel like it's private, but yet there's the chance that some anonymous person may read this and comment and yes, I have to admit its the feedback that I simultaneously crave and fear.
OK - so thats it for now.
So, since every day I whack myself upside the head and say 'why didn't you just write down your feelings yesterday, then you'd have something to build on?' I figured I'd just go ahead and write down my feelings from today.
I'm reading Suzanne Sommers newest tome, Ageless. Not that I'd really ever seek out the knowledge of Chrissy from Three's a Crowd, but having seen her talk about her book on one of the morning news programs, what she had to say really struck a chord in me. It's all about hormone replacement, and it makes a lot of sense. Last year at this time, I was going through major mondo stress because we had two mortgages and one house was not selling! This stress, coupled with the beginning stages of perimenopause caused me to think that I was headed for the looney bin. Well, once the house sold, and I got some sleep and exercise and fresh air and drank water once in a while instead of vodka, things started to look a little better. But here we are in October again, and darned if I'm not feeling the hot flashes, the glowering resentment of practically anyone who dares interrupt what I'm doing - even if its vacuuming - and the loss of interest in anything! Its starting to look like a cycle. So I'm really interested in the bioidentical hormone replacement therapy she talks about. The only thing that bothers me is - well two things... this looks expensive, and it looks like this is a long term committment.
OK, that's backdrop number one - two be built on in later posts. And now for backdrop number two....
I really think I want to write. A story, a really truly novel. I get dumb fragments of ideas and they are starting to bug me. Like little imaginary salesmen knocking on my door when I'm doing really important stuff,... like vacuuming (see backdrop number one). I MUST MUST MUST start writing these little fragment salesmen down.... and, as usual, when my fingers area firmly engaged in the asdf jkl; my mind is a blank. BUT! With this post as a backdrop, I can post ideas and not have to delve into the tedious pre-story I always feel obligated to divulge before the idea germ can be born.
Backdrop number two - done. Backdrop number three... ah yes, like the third ghost in A Christmas Carol, more mercurial and harder to pin down....
I think that it may be a combination of the previous two - this need in me to write down what happens in my life and feel like it's private, but yet there's the chance that some anonymous person may read this and comment and yes, I have to admit its the feedback that I simultaneously crave and fear.
OK - so thats it for now.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Another Blog
I just started another blog attached to this one.... I'm not sure it will even work.
Anyway, in the new one http://highschoolparallel.blogspot.com I will transcribe a daily entry from my 1970's era diary and then parallel the happenings in my high school daughter's life. If it's not interesting to anyone else, it should be fascinating to me!
Anyway, in the new one http://highschoolparallel.blogspot.com I will transcribe a daily entry from my 1970's era diary and then parallel the happenings in my high school daughter's life. If it's not interesting to anyone else, it should be fascinating to me!
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Here we go again!
So, my last two posts have been... shall we say 'interesting'....
I admit I was just posting again to see if I actually remembered how to do it.
I realize now the difference between a blog and a journal. I was having trouble deciding what to post because of the 'consider your audience' mantra. I know now that if I have a qualm about whether or not to post it, it's something that should go in a private journal, not this. Sounds simple, but that's my MO - live and learn.
So, here we are in the last week of August. The last week of summer. Usually the saddest part of the year for me. Based on my childhood, its sad because we took our family vacations this week. Memories remind me that I had to leave my friends and usually get into a sweaty station wagon with my parents and go to some Americana-touristy place, usually dressed identically to my little sister. Alternately, we'd climb into a plane and go to a Hawaiian island and stay at some dingy retirement place with leering, Brylcreamed retirees for two weeks - again dressed to match.
Now, 30 years later, its only sad in retrospect. I get this mixed feeling of sad and happy. Sad that the hot weather and pool season is ending, but happy that the kids are going back to school. The happy tends to be a little muted as the years progress now too. "The kids" are now "the teenagers" and they are progressively less annoying to be around.
There's no ironic point to this post. I'm actually just sitting here in my office doing my 'floor time.' I' have 15 more minutes and then I can blast out to run a couple errands and then throw on my bathing suit and soak up those fleeting last rays of summer sun!
Cowabunga!
Monday, August 28, 2006
Linda Linda Linda
Do-bun ne zu-ni Mita-ini I wanna be beautiful
Utsukushiku nari-tai like a water rat
Sya-shi-n-niwa utsuranai He's got beauty
Utsuku-shisa-ga aru-kara you can't see in a picture
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Moshi-mo Boku-ga itsuka If I see you
Kimi-to deai hanshi aunara and have a talk
Sonna tokiwa do-ka Ai no Please catch
Imi-(w)o Shit-te kuda-sai the meaning of love
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Do-bun ne zu-ni Mita-ini Just like a water rat,
Dare-yorimo yasa-shii nicer than anyone else
Do-bun ne zu-ni Mita-ini Just like a water rat,
Na-niyouimo Ata-ta-kaku warmer than anyone else
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Moshi-mo Boku-ga itsuka If I see you
Kimi-to deai hanshi aunara and have a talk
Sonna tokiwa do-ka Ai no Please catch
Imi-(w)o Shit-te kuda-sai the meaning of love
Aija na-kutemo Koja na-kutemo Even though it may not be love,
Kimi-(w)o hanashi-wa-shi-na-i I'll never leave you
Keshite makenai I'll get power,
Tsuyoi chikara-(w)o the only power
Boku-wa hito-su-dake motsu nothing can beat
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Linda Linda
Linda Linda Linda
Sunday, August 27, 2006
I probably should start posting again...
I just signed up with the whole Windows Live suite of gadgets which includes Writer, an automatic blog publishing thingy. I'm just trying this out for now, since I really don't have anything to say.... well, I have stuff to say, I just don't have the time right now. :)
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Flashback
A friend of mine sent me that email - you know the one, "If you were a little girl in the 70s you..." Well, some of that stuff I swear was from the 80s, but a few of them struck nostalgic chords, why I've even got picture proof of three of them. The other three pictures were just so weirdly 70s I had to add them. This also begs the question of my little sister, was there ever a time we DIDN'T dress alike?
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Monday, February 06, 2006
A Bloody Groundswell
I was born in 1957 and am newly innaugurated into the peri-pre-whatever menopausal ranks. That being said, I have a question.
Why, as history will attest, if women my age have always been on the leading edge of trends, then why must we take a back seat to pregnant women in our need for medical guidance through this liberating stage of our lives!? I live in a relatively small metro area, yet I have been relegated to the 'newer' OB/GYN doctors since all of the 'recommended' doctors have closed practices, and my appointments have to be booked out a month in the future - in deference to the doctors' birthing patients. Yes, it's true that clinically its all the same plumbing, but there are WAY too many differences in what WE at this age are going through, compared to what newly pregnant moms are experiencing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not drawing a line in the sand, I'd just like to see a physician specialization that deals solely with pre, peri, and menopausal women, so we don't have to take a back seat to the ones on the other side of the spectrum, (or speculum, as it were) in making our appointments.
Is there anyone else out there that is feeling this same thing?
Why, as history will attest, if women my age have always been on the leading edge of trends, then why must we take a back seat to pregnant women in our need for medical guidance through this liberating stage of our lives!? I live in a relatively small metro area, yet I have been relegated to the 'newer' OB/GYN doctors since all of the 'recommended' doctors have closed practices, and my appointments have to be booked out a month in the future - in deference to the doctors' birthing patients. Yes, it's true that clinically its all the same plumbing, but there are WAY too many differences in what WE at this age are going through, compared to what newly pregnant moms are experiencing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not drawing a line in the sand, I'd just like to see a physician specialization that deals solely with pre, peri, and menopausal women, so we don't have to take a back seat to the ones on the other side of the spectrum, (or speculum, as it were) in making our appointments.
Is there anyone else out there that is feeling this same thing?
Sunday, February 05, 2006
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