Book launch 2.0
posted 2008.05.17 at 15:13
posted 2008.05.17 at 15:13
Ha! Very very funny. (thanks, Berit!0
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Back to diet and dance log
DD:Recall (ddr ac)
Groovestats (itg ac/cs)
So this Zune is awesome, yes.
http://social.zune.net/member/O+Valenci
I find it funny that I'm having to go back and download torrents of CDs that I actually bought at some point and lost them. I completely forgot that both Bright Eyes' and Fall Out Boy's last albums existed because they never made it on the iPod.
...that really says something about the quality of both of those, doesn't it >_>
(Oh geez, and this week's five isn't going to be fun to get through.)
1. What makes you feel old?
Pretty much everything at this point. I'd probably feel better if I could get back on my diet here, but I'm still five Red Wings victories away from that.
2. What makes you feel young?
I don't know if teaching necessarily makes me feel young, but it's probably the closest thing to feeling young that I can do these days.
3. What was better when you were allowed to do it the old way?
I don't know that I ever "allow" myself to be forced to do things in a new way. The best answer I can give to this is that I always bake without using any electric mixers, doing all the mixing by hand because I think it improves the flavour.
4. What’s better now that you do it the new way?
Research. If I didn't have easy access to recent English journals when I was in school, I don't know if I could have studied the topics that I did without wanting to pull my hair out.
5. What’s something you are old school about?
I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that saying I'm "old school" about something means that I'm making an attempt to sound cool, and I am not cool.
Well, not entirely. I really did have some kind of stomach crud at the beginning of the week, but the main reason I've not been posting is because it has been creeping back. The black dog. The truth the dead know. The old bald cheater (OK, I think that one actually referred to time, but it rings true either way). The characterization of depression that has always worked best for me is "the bell jar," but while Sylvia Plath was a fine writer, she has been so unjustly diminished by her posthumous association with weepy teenage girls making half-assed razorblade scratches on their wrists that her excellent and apt phrase seems hardly worth mentioning. That's still what it feels like to me, though. A layer of glass -- thicker at some times, thinner at others -- that descends over you and cuts you off from the world, muffling the things that once seemed important, the things you need to hear and the things you try to say, layering you off from what once gave you pleasure and sustenance.
I stopped taking Cymbalta a couple of months ago now, I think, mainly because Augie had gotten sick and the vet bills were murderous and I never was sure whether the shit was doing anything anyway. When I stopped, though, I asked Chris to keep a close eye on me, and if he thought I was sinking badly enough that I needed to start taking it again, he should tell me.
Yesterday morning, he told me. I refilled the prescription. Unsurprisingly, it still costs a fortune ($127 for a month's supply; no generic). The kind folks who offered to help subsidize my brain chemistry needn't send money, though; people have been very generous with donations recently and we are doing more or less OK. Besides, I don't even know if it will help, and I don't suppose I'll ever really know; for me, depression (though often extenuated by factors such as catastrophic levee failures, pet deaths, etc.) seems to be a chemical thing that comes and goes at will. Things can be awful and I'll weather it surprisingly well. Things can be fine and suddenly life looks like a big pile of shit. I never know when, how, or why. Right now I'm just doing what Chris tells me because I don't know of a better alternative.
(I do not feel in the least suicidal, and am going ahead with my plans to purchase a gun and learn to shoot. In fact, that's one of the few things I feel genuinely interested in right now.)
The only reason its arrival comes as a surprise this time is because I guess I mistook my acceptance into the Catholic Church for some sort of Get Out of Depression Free card, which was foolish, but I've been riding so high and feeling so much better since then that I just kind of went with it. I mean, why wouldn't I? However, I have come too far and put myself and my loved ones through too much worrisome bullshit to let this turn into another long downward slide. I'm taking the stupid Cymbalta. I'm going to Mass and trying to help with the movement to save Our Lady of Good Counsel, though I feel like deadweight in that respect. I'm not eating much, I admit, but I'm forcing myself to keep weightlifting. I'm hoping the trip to Grand Isle next week will clear some cobwebs out of my head.
I also have an Unofficial Birthday Crawfish Boil to attend tomorrow, which is a bright spot.
That is all for now. You may commiserate if you wish, but please, for the love of God, no ADVICE.
[Addendum: I have banished all the "peeps," a.k.a. neighbors who ask for sandwiches, codranks, and such. If you are not a delivery person, a cop, or a friend I'm expecting, you are not allowed to knock on our front door. If you do, you will be ignored. If you do it repeatedly, I will set off the burglar alarm. I regret having to adopt this scorched-earth policy, but if I don't stop hearing that tap-tap-tap (which is usually more like BANG-BANG-BANG) on my door repeatedly each day and night, I'm not just going to be depressed; I'm going to have a nervous breakdown that may result in a machete attack.]
Location: Medina, Ohio, USA
My little Obi-Wan, little brother to Lando and Leia. He’s still living at the rescue shelter with his mom, but he’ll be able to come home in a few short weeks. He’s an independent little guy, active, curious, and sweet. I can’t wait until he can come home to me!
monday.
this time I might stay for more than a week.
Today is my 33rd birthday and I have the day off. It’s going to be 90 degrees out and I have Special Plans with myself for the day, which include a long breezy walk with my dog in the afternoon, and then dinner with a few friends. It is a very happy day.
33 birthday prezzies for which I am deeply appreciative:
1. My health
2. My husband Andreas
3. My parents, individually and collectively
4. Chateau Fetzllings, our home
5. Seattle, the city that I keep leaving and always return to
6. Extended family of aunts, cousins, outlaw mothers, sisters of various sorts, etc.
7. My job (unexpectedly awesome)
8. A community of friends that’s in constant shift, but always solid
9. Dance & stretching
10. Platforms & soapboxes
11. Sassafras & warm sleepy puppy smell
12. Seasonal shifts
13. Afternoon delight/naps
14. Temperate rainforests
15. Deep bass
16. Generosity that comes back around in unexpected ways
17. Enthusiasm
18. Hustle
19. Skin
20. Sweet black tea in bed in the mornings
21. Olympic coastline
22. Smoke
23. Social psychology
24. Emotional articulation
25. The Internet and other connective technologies
26. Waking up without an alarm
27. Gossip/storytelling
28. Particularities
29. Hitachi Magic Wand
30. Crisis competence
31. Learning internal lessons from external triggers
32. Snuggling
33. A voice that projects
Our old subaru is dying a slow and expensive death, and I figured I’d try Zipcar as a stop-gap. Heck. Maybe we’d even like it so much that we wouldn’t need to replace the Subaru at all! We could be all progressive and awesome with our car sharing program.
I filled out the application Saturday. Tuesday, I got a sad email informing me that my membership had been rejected due to a “MAJOR INCIDENT” in the last three years of my driving record. For legal reasons, they couldn’t tell me what the INCIDENT was, but after checking their rules I figure it was that speeding ticket from July of 2005 where I was going 52 in a 30. Speeding tickets where you’re going more than 20mph over the speed limit count as MAJOR by Zipcar standards.
Aww. Sad. Very sad. There went that idea. So … oh well.
In the mail today, I got a nice thick envelope from Zipcar.
hi there… said the the san serif copy on the front of the mailing. Not the kind of thing you usually say to a rejected application. I opened it up and found a brand new Zipcard — the thing you need to use the fleet’s cars. I also found a little welcome message with friendly instructions on how easy it was to activate my card. I could be on the road in minutes!
I got excited (had the rejection been reversed? awesome!), but figured I’d better call and check. I patiently waited on hold for 10 minutes to speak to someone, and then explained my story.
“Oh yes,” the young woman said. “We automatically mail out the welcome package before we get your driving record back. Your application is still rejected. You can send the Zipcard back or just throw it away if you’d like.”
Oh. So you mean you just put a customer through being rejected TWICE? That’s fucked up, Zipcar.
Married name:
Mood: 
lol
Music: lol
Hm.
Location: Alpharetta, Georgia, USA
Persephone is a sweet six week old kitten I adopted yesterday. She’s a pretty purry little girl that loves to play and climb all over me and cries (loudly) whenever she’s left alone. Luckily Persie has six big brothers and sisters to play with, once they get used to her new kitten smell, that is.
( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )
Mood: 
awake
Music: Zeromancer - Send Me an Angel
Posted two new episodes to the podcast here and here.
I cordially remind you that the Main Podcast Site is to be found at http://www.epilonicast.net/theydontknow. This is where the updates will be the updatiest and the podcast notes will the notiest, and if you subscribe through the <a href="http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=279281570>iTunes link</a>, you will get them whenever your podcast wants to refresh.
Love to my gentle listeners!
Bought an open-box 30gb Zune this evening, returning the Nano tomorrow.
The Nano is incredibly cute, but for a few bucks more I have like 7x the space. I like that better.
Zune software sucks, but I'll live. Plus now I can put movies on here yay.
( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )
Several years ago when I went through my last period of deep suicidal thoughts (back before my counselor at UT finally straightened me out), I had this recurring dream. I was in an apartment by myself, sitting at one of those really cheap white-and-pine dinette sets you always see on sale at Big Lots, and I was holding onto a revolver. Even though I've never touched a handgun in my life, I can still remember just how heavy the gun felt in my hand. The suicide implication there was obvious, but I think the other obvious thing from that nightmare was that it was happening after both my parents had died, since I was on my own like that. Although I haven't had anything approaching suicidal thoughts since Dad died, I am still having this dream pop up every now and again, probably because I've now lost one parent, and I have to think about losing Mom in a way that I've never thought about before.
Having some kind of circle of friends locally to hang out with would probably help me a lot, but again, I'm just not that comfortable doing that right now, in part because I'm so busy and in part because I'm so fearful because of all the disasters there have been in the past when I've tried to make friends. I also have to admit that I'm questioning my own motivations for wanting friends, because I think that in addition to companionship, I may also be looking for people to foist responsibilities on. I was kind of already doing this before Dad died, because seeing him and Mom, and Mark and Heather, made me wish that I had a lover, someone for me to shower affection on, and even though I had a few people in mind as potential partners, I didn't do anything about it because, in addition to general fears, I was worried that I was just looking to fill a hole in my own life, and that for the person I tried to partner with I'd be too interested in filling that hole in my life that I wouldn't be focused enough on filling the holes in that person's life. Now that Dad's dead and I've had to take on so many more responsibilities, I'm worried that I may be longing for a partner even more just so I have someone to share those responsibilities with.
As it is, other things developed with two of the people I'd been thinking about talking to (I never even got the chance to talk to them) that kind of made serious relationships with them impossible. There's only one other person I think I'd be comfortable partnering with right now, and not only do I think that she'd rather not entertain that idea just on general principle, but she also seems to be at a period in her life where she would rather be single. I can't say as I blame her for that, because for a long time there I appreciated the freedoms that being single gave me. However, now I seem to be longing for companionship, and the worst part is that I'm not even sure that I'm longing for it for the right reasons. If I can't trust my own intentions, how can I possibly expect anyone else to?
