29 May 2005

Another one bites the dust...?

Ok, I don't know much about sports.  To give an example of my ignorance, we'll take a look at today.  I went with my guy to his mom's for Sunday Dinner.  His sisters and their families were there as well.

Here's the scene:  I'm sitting in the sitting room (how appropriate) with the two husbands of my guys two sisters (also appropriate, doncha think?).  They are watching the races (ya know, cars, that go round and round and round).  I ask, "which race is this?"  "Indianapolis"

K, that's like, half the stuff I know about racing.  Yesterday I saw where a FEMALE is driving in today's race.  I don't know why that made my proud, it's not like I had ANYTHING to do with it...but proud I was anyway.  You would have thought I had something vested in her performance.

The woman did good.  Took 4th place.  Wow.  Really.  Wow.

Ok, during the same time frame, the husbands begin to discuss the SEC championship between Ole Miss and MSU.  Now, my guy's grandfather coached many girls through softball and while his family is not rabid, they are interested in local teams as a whole.  So, news of the playoffs spreads to the rest of the family present.

Flash to later in the afternoon...my guy and I are riding back from a quick trip to the mall to get my hair cut.  I say, "Ya know, if we hurry, we might catch kickoff."  My guy does that sort of bobble-headed nod that says something like, "I hear what you are saying, I just don't understand what you are saying."

So I clarify, "ya know, the SEC championship?  Ole Miss and MSU?"

He is still doing that kind of civil-treat-with-care reaction which includes looking a bit wary.  So I try again, "don't you wanna see that?  I mean, it should be big, right?  I mean I know it's not Jackie Sherrill, but still...."  At this, my guy raises his eyebrows and inhales deeply through his nose and lets it out slowly through his mouth.  Sensing I have done something not quite right, I fall silent.

I figure out what I did wrong only when we get back to the house and  my guy starts flipping through the channels.   He asked his mom about ESPN and BASEBALL.   OMG, guys!!   I thought they were talking football earlier.  I'm such a doofus.

So the score was Ole Miss (1) and MSU (4).  Even though my guy is currently enrolled in Ole Miss and my school is MSU, we don't act as a house divided.  I mean, really, how big of a deal CAN it be when I don't even know WHAT it is that makes it a big deal to start with...I am so sidelined on the whole sport thing, again, still, and most likely, forever more.

26 May 2005

They called her Snow White....

...until she drifted.
So, the other day I was visiting the university library, looking at the PS 3000+ section (where there is some pretty decent fiction).  I see this book.  I take it off the shelf.  I think, ya know, this looks pretty decent.  And it's full of short lil punchy witticisms.  Which I like.  Then I think, ya know, what with my attention span being so short and uhhhhhm oh! yeah, my need for a little light-hearted wit...this might just be the read for me.

So, now ya know, this is what I'm reading.  Just wanted to share.  Cuz "Too Much of a Good Thing is Wonderful".

by Regina Berreca....who thanks the cover artist because there really are people who judge a book by it's cover.  And I have to admit, it was the cover that hooked me to start with.  The witty lines drew me in.  I'm a sucker, what can I say?!?

Alright! No body move...

I know I should.  I know allllll the reasons.  Got no excuses.  Not really.

But I just can't seem to MAKE myself exercise.  It's a viscious cycle of feeling fat, ugly, and winded, which leads to being more depressed, which leads to my wanting to go sleep for ohhhhhhhhh ever, which leads to me being more depressed by my fat, unhealthy, unattractive self.  It's disgusting.  Aren't you glad I'm sharing?

Yesterday, my poor guy heard all about it (and a bunch of tangents too) for hours (and I do mean literally hours).  He had to bear the sight (and sound) of me sobbing and blowing my nose repeatedly.  It would seem I was calming down, then oh! no! a fresh turrent of tears would burst forth.

And because he is a psychologist (well, ok, because he LOVES me, but also because he is a psychologist), he listened to my blubbering wallowing until we were both pruney.  He gave a few great suggestions, he offered his shoulder (and ear) anytime, and encouraged me with warm words.

I feel much better.

But, I'd like to say that sometimes it amazes me that I am 230 pounds.  Even more so, it astounds me that I let myself get this way.  What...how.....when....uuuuhhh

I know it took awhile to get this way.  I know it will take awhile to not be this way.  I know that I am the only one that can change myself.

But wouldn't it be nice if you could just lay the blame elsewhere?

I think it was the butler, in the pantry, with the knife.

24 May 2005

puppy love

Neither of my two pooches are pups any longer.  But they are still my babies.  Shaddow has been with me since she was 2 months old.  She is now almost 4 years old.  Shaddow is a black lab, about 65 pounds.  Sweet, soft, gentle as could be.  So very very loving.  And a very good girl, too.

Ziggee is 2 years old, although I have only had him for about 6 or 7 weeks.  He is a "rat-cha" (part rat terrier (feist) and part chihuahua).  I think he weighs about 10 pounds or so.  He gets jealous of attention shown to anyone other than him.  He is my cat in a dog suit, curls up in my lap without causing me endless sneezes.

Shaddow and Ziggee get along well.  They play and sleep together.  Ziggee has a few bad habits that need to be broken, unlearned.  Shaddow, on the other hand, is the near perfect pooch.  The only thing is, she tolerates being cuddled.  While Ziggee practically demands it.

I love them both.  Shaddow is my first puppy love.  Ziggee is a new experience for me.  And though they are very different from each other in many ways, they are both in my heart to stay.

23 May 2005

Snivelling and Whiiiiiiiining already

Can I just say, it's like, a MONTH before summer....and it is 7pm.....and it is 90 freaking degrees?!?

can I just say that?!?!

22 May 2005

Summer's Preview

I would say that summer is here.  But, we might still have a cool spell in the making.  I know that there hasn't been enough rainfall so far.  All the bodies of water (including mine, wriggling eyebrows while smirking and giggling) are a bit low.  I've seen some coast line that revealed new and fertile (and smelly) muck.  Very fecund.

Speaking of fecund...

I've been having some fruitilicious ideas of late.  Thing is, usually they occur when I'm not really in the best place to jot them down.  And I have a holee memory when it comes to some things.

But, I can say this, I am feeling the ol creative juices flowing, so I hope to keep em pumping and produce some good stuff.  In writing, in crafting, and in other projects.  Such as gardening and some on going collaboration with NAMI.

Cheerio, sweettarts!

21 May 2005

Freaky Friday

Yes, I KNOW it's Saturday...but this is about yesterday.  And a bit about Thursday.

My guy asked me Thursday how I felt about Star Wars.  I stared blankly at him.  He said, "you know, the movies...?"  I still was slack jawed.  Then he tried again (bless his heart, he knows how easily I become befuddled), "want to see the Sith?"

At this point, I shocked him, "I have NO clue what you are talking about.  I mean, I vaguely remember hoopla about Star Wars the Original movies back when I was a kid.  My brother had a star wars robe or pj's or something..."  At this point I notice my guy is regarding me strangely.  So, I continue, "but I don't know WHY they are releasing remakes, I mean it's not like scads of time has elapsed..."  I dwindled off, because NOW he is regarding me with something akin to pity and horror.

"Honey," he speaks softly and slowly, as he does when I am in the midst of panic attacks.  "They are not remakes.  The three movies are prequels to the originals.  Didn't you see the originals?"

I admitted that I had not, but I know people who did.  They were scarred for life.  Most of them are rabidly enthusiastic ("trekkies").  I thought it might be better to keep my distance from such a toxic oddity.

Then I asked, "so these prequels, these current Star Wars movies...they would be like if the movie the Hobbit were released now after the Rings series?"

A pained expression crossed his face.  He had already been through the whole "rings" ordeal with me.  I had to see the trilogy about 6 times, with commentary and endless questions, in order to have a clue as to what was going on, why was it going on, who was who, where, when etc.   But, he said that yes, it was sorta like that.

I noticed he was still regarding me as though I were some strange specimen never before encountered on this earth, let alone in his living room.  So, I asked if he were alright.  He said that he was, but he really couldn't believe that I was so so so....words failed to describe the deepths to which I were oblivious of this Stars Wars thing.

"It's like," he groped for the right words.  I jumped in, helpfully, "like missing a piece of Americana?"  "YES," he rushed.  "Exactly."

SOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo, yesterday, Friday....I go with him to Tunica for a conference that he attended on "Play Therapy".  Afterwards, he asks, "how are you feeling?"  "Ok"  "Really?"  "Uh-huh"  "Feel like seeing a movie?"  "Sure"

AND that is how I ended up seeing the Sith last night.  He explained that the first two prequels hadn't really been all THAT essential to the overall plot of the Star Wars entity.  But this one would most likely explain the background story enough so that I could REALLY understand the 3 original Star Wars.

So, I saw it.  I saved my questions til the end (not wanting to disturb the other movie-goers).  I thought it was alright.  I understood most of it.  I am now ready to see the originals, for the first time.


OH, and I do apologize to any and all who are in deep shock over this entry and the fact that there are indeed folks, right here in America, who haven't seen Star Wars.  Sorry.  But my guy has now introduced me to the Star Wars world, and you have one less clueless person convert.


Ewoks, what were they, again?

18 May 2005

Wednesday Weirdness

Today, I packed a gazillion million (that'd be a google) of things.  Including my two pooches.  We drove up to my guy's and we are settled in for a couple weeks.

I did see the doctor and she is very concerned about my sleep hygiene.  Soooooooooo, she feels that once that is regulated, then some of the other stuff will improve.  Sigh.  I hope so.

I haven't been here since Spring Break.  So it all seems so strange yet familiar and that feeling is odd.  I feel as though it is some sort of time warp.

THAT brings to mind that funky dance...

17 May 2005

Tuesday Tidbits

This morning, I woke earlier than I have in two weeks.  My guy got here last night.  We are going to Jackson today.  It's about a two and a half to three hour drive for us from my home.

Yesterday, I felt myself sinking into a funk.  I called one of my friends and we chatted for a few minutes.  Then she asked how I was.  All of a sudden, a wave crashed over me, sucking me under and I choked on my tears.

It was awful.  I managed to eek out that I was not ok.  I wanted to get off the phone as fast as I could.  Not because I did not trust my friend to see inside me, but because the utter despair left me bewildered and I had no real reason to pin-point as the cause.

Guess what?  The beauty of this disorder is that sometimes, you don't need a specific trigger.  Sometimes chemical levels change, sometimes receptors work, sometimes synapses misfire, and sometimes, just sometimes, there doesn't have to be A REASON.  If you feel like crap, you still feel like crap even if you can determine the cause.  The good part about finding the underlying root for that specific episode, is so that you might be able to counter it more effectively.

I have an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow.  Maybe she can help.  This is too exhausting for me to handle anymore.

Hope y'all have a great day.  The weather is beautiful.  Birds are chirping.  Should be a good day for driving.  Take care of yourselfs.

16 May 2005

Forgotten ventures

Last year, I attempted to participate in NaNoWriMo.  The National November Writing Month is a sort of mad dash to write at least 50,000 words for that month.  If you cheat, well, you are only cheating yourself.

It's free.  If you register, you can get lots of little supportive messages that can go a long way in encouraging you to continue.  I was jumping around Judi Heartsong's comments in the May Artsy Essay post, when I came across Ms. Bea.  She actually participated and successfully completed the event.  Kudos to her!!

So I think that I am getting back into the swing of things and I don't think I will wait til Novemeber to write.  I have been writing some here and there.  But I am making an effort to be more consistent and productive.

So that there is a pledge.  To myself.  But stated in a public forum, for accountability purposes.  So, go ahead, ask me about it, call me on it.  This time, I won't shove it behind the Holidays and forget about it.

15 May 2005

May's Artsy Essay

Having said that I don't want to commit myself to things like weekly assignments, I am participating in Judi's May Arty Essay.  Why?  Well, for a few reasons.  None of which I'm going to explain here.  The essay is long enough without lots of other verbiage.

Now, for those of you who don't know about the essay for this month, you can click on the link.  Basically, Judi has listed 33 words and asked that we pick at least 3 of the 33 and include them in an essay, prose, poetry, non-fiction, fiction, etc.  I chose to write using all 33.

I'd like to extend a tip-of-the-hat to Anne of Saturday's Child, for her post on phobias.  In unrelated matters, she is in need of all our prayers, warm thoughts, and positive energies.  Please let her know she is in our hearts.

OK....here's the essay:

I reached for my packes of alka-seltzer (plop-plop, fizz-fizz, oh!  whatta relief it is).  This was gonna be a hella night.  My secretary, medical transcriber, and other office staff had been long gone for the day.  All was quiet inside my office, with the exception of my constant muttering.

A single desk lamp lighted my appointment book and a list of patients' names.  Some how, I was going to need to figure a way to schedule everyone, while taking into account their main diagnoses so that I did not have people with conflicting ailments in the waiting room.  I fel as though I were staring into an abyss, with seemingly no way to anchor myself on firmer ground.  This was a logistical problem of palatial magnitude.

This was no way for a therapist to feel, especially when contemplating something as mundane as the scheduling of clients.  Surely there was a way to make all this feasible.  The problem presented was that some of my clients have some rather severe phobias hat would be exacerbated when presented with other clients' habits.

For instance, one patient indulges in apodyopsis, staring intently at strange women as though undressing them with his mind's eye.  Last week as he was leaving, a neophyte to counseling was arriving for her appointment.  Little did I know then that she suffers from ophthalmophobia.  Bu, I hardly blame folks for staring at her, as she has a nervous disorder called tarantism, which manifests itself with impulse to dance at all times.  She titters self-consciously, making it extremely difficult to ignore her eccentric behavior so that we can focus on the root of the problem.  I can only imagine how arduous she must feel, as well as how exhausted those around her must be.

Sometimes, I feel that I am surrounded by those who suffer some inner malady; it is truly barbarous.  On the other hand, as Millie, my secretary points out, I am a therapist.  Even she has a disorder, where in she will sometimes lapse into mytacism, especially on Mondays.  So I am really glad that she is not here to hear me muttering.  Turning back to the charts before me, I continue with the runcation of those clients with incompatible diagnoses.  I'd really rather they were not scheduled for the same day, let alone the same morning or afternoon.

If I did not know better, I'd say my life is a farcical.  Frankly, it does provide plenty of comic-relief, although funds certainly aren't raised for any such worthy cause.  For example, my schedule includes a gongoozler who relocated to here from England and can find no canals to observe.  Also, there is the dompteuse, not to be confused with a dominatrix (although, in the animal kingdom, that is exactly what she is).  My medical transcriber has already fumbled that malapropism.  She also confuses mastication with masturbation.  Fortunately, the connotation clues me in, pointing me in the right direction.  Besides, those little quirks remind me to be a little less the Bombastic Therapist and to let my human nature shine through a bit.  Surely, that cannot be fallacious on my part to want my clients to realize that I am human, too.

Given the staff and myself, I feel rather serendipitous in that we all get along so very well.  I must admit The Mighty Oracles (graduate-school professors) warned that the chances of us finding or fostering such good working relationships with staff were slim to none.  However, I feel that ascendant fertilization is enriching my professional and social life with my staff.  Sometimes, we do get together for an evening in my secretary's home.  She plays the bassoon wonderfully well.  My medical transcriber brings her pet aardvark and shares her adoxography with us.  Those make for interesting gatherings, to say the least.

To get back to my patient list, I have a female client who so fears other females (gynophobia), that she is employed by a haberdashery.  That usually works just fine for her, unless a wife comes in to the store to buy her husband a tie, cuff links, or some such thing.  Then my patient does not feel so fortuitous.

Another patient cannot eat, nor indeed bear the sight of, acidic fruit.  Oranges, lemons, grapefruit, pineapples, kumquat, and the like trigger her acerophobia.  Rutabaga, potatoes, turnips, yams, and other tubers are safe for her to ingest.  However, one cannot live on roots alone.  We've begun to work toward eaing such things as farctates, cruciferous, and crudites.  Some of those vegetables seem to be working well.  At least she does not suffer from lachanophobia.  Or worse, she could fear food and eating entirely, having cibophobia, sitophobia, and/or sitiophobia.

09 May 2005

Just a few thoughts

To recapp, Shaddow is my 3.5 yr old black lab whom I have had since she was 2 months old.  Ziggee is my 2 yr old rat-cha whom I have had for about a month now.  Picture a 65 pound sweet girl (small for a lab, big for a dog) and a less than 10 pound scrappy guy (large for a rat-cha, small for a dog) mouthing off with each other.  They scramble atop my bed, in which I am not.  Baring the teeth, lips peeled back in soundless snarls and sneers, mouths open, she captures his head, he twists out and clamps down on her foreleg, then she throws a paw over his belly and pins him down, and he grabs her ear and tugs it.  All this is quiet and about as authentic as professional wrestling.

They love each other, I can tell.

06 May 2005

Welcoming you with a chuckle...

My friend, who's Blind, has a small boy who is just about 2 and a half.  She shared this in e-mail today.  I thought you'd get a kick out of it.

"Well, the joy of raising a boy when your blind!!   Today I was coming out of the bathroom and James told me he had lotion.  I said "really?" he said "yeah!"  I felt his hands and he had some lotion on them and was rubbed in pretty well.  Then he went for more.  I followed him to in front of the kitchen cabnets where he had dipped his hand in my crisco!!  I was on the phone with a friend and I said "oh no!  It wasn't lotion...!!"  And started laughing.  For some reason... she didn't find this as amusing as I did.  The amazing thing was he didn't get all over... just his hands.   So, just wanted to share that with you and give you a laugh."