I had a pleasant surprise when I checked my bank balance this weekend before mailing the city my big ol' whopping property tax check. There was more money in there than I was afraid there was going to be, which means my recent mega-economizing has worked. I have not been going out hardly at all. <--[that's a very badly constructed and grammatically incorrect sentence right there but I don't love all y'all enough to fix it and you know what I mean, even with the double negative.] I have been bringing food to work almost every day and not buying lunch. (Both the not-going-out and the bringing-my-sad-little-lunch were undertaken not just for economical reasons, but because I was on a diet for the month of January. And can I just say? thank god tomorrow's February. Dieting sucks, but dieting when you're not actually fat sucks more.) The thermostat in my house remains at 66 or under. Usually under. And I have held off on most discretionary purchases.
Extremely happy that I could pay my taxes and not be broke, I figured I could now buy some stuff which is not essential to life, but is damn close, and that I have been holding out on. I bought four different DaVinci syrups and the protein bars I like but have not had for months from netrition.com. I bought creatine and non-ghetto whey (chocolate peanut butter flavor--it better be good) from bodybuilding.com. I bought eye liner and primer (aka face spackle) from Sephora. And I bought a Buffy bar from Lush. And then I felt complete.
Oh shut up. Not really. But it felt good that scrimping here and there meant I could then buy some things I really wanted without guilt or worry. Or, y'know, debt. And that's even after losing five bucks last week! [insert winky face here]
I'm almost tempted to blow some money on a pedi too. You should see my feet. Not pretty. But I'll probably scrimp some more before that. I'm sure my new eye liner and face spackle will keep people looking at my beauteous visage and not my sad toenails! Ahem.
Happy final day of January in which there is no snow on the ground (unless it's snowing now, yo), bitches. Did I mention I'm loving this winter?
xoxo
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
life is just a series of minor irritations
I was gonna tell you the whole long story about how I came to have a $5 bill in my jacket pocket last night that isn't there this morning, but then I figured, dude! you are being one of those minor irritations. No one cares. So let's skip ahead to the fact that somehow, somewhere, on my way home last night I lost $5, and I hope whoever finds it a.) is a little kid or b.) really needs it. Nevertheless, losing five bucks pissed me off greatly this morning, mainly because I know it is my own stupid fault for putting money in my jacket pocket during the winter when I am also always shoving my gloves into my pocket so that I can do things like get my keys out or add money to my CharlieCard.
In my effort to not be so irritated by this, I have told myself two things. #1, that this balanced out all those times when I have put on a jacket or pair of pants I haven't worn in six months and found cash in the pocket I didn't know was there. #2, $5 is a trip to Starbucks if you tip, which I usually do, so I can just tell myself that I went to Starbucks last night on my way home and I've developed amnesia about it. So that five bucks, while still wasted, was wasted on caffeine, not just wasted on nothing.
Whatever.
Put your cash directly into your wallets, kids, and learn from my stupidity.
xoxo
In my effort to not be so irritated by this, I have told myself two things. #1, that this balanced out all those times when I have put on a jacket or pair of pants I haven't worn in six months and found cash in the pocket I didn't know was there. #2, $5 is a trip to Starbucks if you tip, which I usually do, so I can just tell myself that I went to Starbucks last night on my way home and I've developed amnesia about it. So that five bucks, while still wasted, was wasted on caffeine, not just wasted on nothing.
Whatever.
Put your cash directly into your wallets, kids, and learn from my stupidity.
xoxo
Monday, January 23, 2012
on your television tonight
Okay, on my television tonight. Tomato, tomahto, cucumber.
I realize I am going to type all this out and it will amuse no one but me--and it's already amused me so very very much--because most of the joke would need to be explained if you aren't me. Nevertheless, onward we plow.
First up, new episode of Hoarders. One of the stories is a lady who has had no plumbing in her house for three years. With predictable results. Well, predictable if you've ever watched Hoarders. Think a house chock full of bottles o' pee and piles of human poop. (No, that's not the funny part.) The woman is very glib in being able to attribute her dysfunction to all the trauma in her life, including being raped twelve times. Or maybe it was seventeen. (No, that's not the funny part either, but it does make my bullshit antenna go up.***) The part which made.me.die. is the little reveal at the end where the crew has made a new room for her to meditate in and she is shown chanting at her new altar. Remember when M2 took me to the Buddhist chanting and I found it a wee bit cult-like and not for me? Um, yeah. That's exactly the chanting poop lady was doing. I cannot wait till M2 sees this episode. She will.also.die.
Then Intervention comes on. I don't watch Intervention ever, but since it's not time for me to take my clothes out of the dryer, I catch the first few minutes. The apparent subject is showing off a room in her house to the camera crew. "This is our wine room," she says slurrily, pointing to some mostly empty racks. "As you can see, there's not much wine in it. I drank it all." Oh, the lulz. Oh, the fucking lulz. Then my clothes were done.
In totally non-television-related news, I've been hearing this loud beep in my house on and off for like 3 days and I thought I was going insane because I couldn't figure out what it is. Until now. It's my FIOS setup in the garage, telling me the battery in the battery backup needs to be replaced. Damn you, Verizon.
xoxo
***When Our Lil MILF came by a couple months ago and was telling us stories about her new job with the Commonwealth, one of them concerned one of her clients calling to tell her that her landlord had raped her. Understandably concerned but also puzzled why the woman was calling her, not, say, THE POLICE, she ran it by a co-worker. Co-worker rolled her eyes. "Again? She gets raped every three months. Ask her how many months behind in the rent she is." Answer: a few. But it's totally justified because the light is out in her hallway!
I realize I am going to type all this out and it will amuse no one but me--and it's already amused me so very very much--because most of the joke would need to be explained if you aren't me. Nevertheless, onward we plow.
First up, new episode of Hoarders. One of the stories is a lady who has had no plumbing in her house for three years. With predictable results. Well, predictable if you've ever watched Hoarders. Think a house chock full of bottles o' pee and piles of human poop. (No, that's not the funny part.) The woman is very glib in being able to attribute her dysfunction to all the trauma in her life, including being raped twelve times. Or maybe it was seventeen. (No, that's not the funny part either, but it does make my bullshit antenna go up.***) The part which made.me.die. is the little reveal at the end where the crew has made a new room for her to meditate in and she is shown chanting at her new altar. Remember when M2 took me to the Buddhist chanting and I found it a wee bit cult-like and not for me? Um, yeah. That's exactly the chanting poop lady was doing. I cannot wait till M2 sees this episode. She will.also.die.
Then Intervention comes on. I don't watch Intervention ever, but since it's not time for me to take my clothes out of the dryer, I catch the first few minutes. The apparent subject is showing off a room in her house to the camera crew. "This is our wine room," she says slurrily, pointing to some mostly empty racks. "As you can see, there's not much wine in it. I drank it all." Oh, the lulz. Oh, the fucking lulz. Then my clothes were done.
In totally non-television-related news, I've been hearing this loud beep in my house on and off for like 3 days and I thought I was going insane because I couldn't figure out what it is. Until now. It's my FIOS setup in the garage, telling me the battery in the battery backup needs to be replaced. Damn you, Verizon.
xoxo
***When Our Lil MILF came by a couple months ago and was telling us stories about her new job with the Commonwealth, one of them concerned one of her clients calling to tell her that her landlord had raped her. Understandably concerned but also puzzled why the woman was calling her, not, say, THE POLICE, she ran it by a co-worker. Co-worker rolled her eyes. "Again? She gets raped every three months. Ask her how many months behind in the rent she is." Answer: a few. But it's totally justified because the light is out in her hallway!
cause and effect
That's right, isn't it? I never know when to use "affect" other than psychiatrically. It is, along with lay vs lie, my grammatical nemesis.
So, my water bill is $20 less this quarter and I wonder if that is due to my water heater dying for those two weeks or so. Did lack of bathing and extremely quick showers for two weeks really save me $20? Should I just start showering at the Y every day and use the proceeds to go on vacation?!?? Doesn't sound possible. My water bill is one of those things where I have no idea whether I am getting screwed or not. Sometimes it's higher and sometimes it's lower and I just can't understand why, in either direction. Hell, it probably should have been HIGHER this quarter due to those times I left the faucet running in the sink in my menopausal brain fog. Just imagine how much water that wasted! I am probably entirely responsible for the impending collapse of our ecosystem. On the other hand? Guess who has never watered her lawn EVAH?
I read an interesting discussion the other day about new appliances and how their being energy efficient is what causes them to break in 5 years rather than last 20 or 30 like they used to. I'm not quite sure I'm buying that. I think they're purposefully built to only last five years because the manufacturers have figured out that's how they make more money. Who is going to buy a new refrigerator if their old refrigerator is still keeping the food cold? (And their shelves aren't held together with duct tape. Ahem.) I mean, besides the stupid consumers who buy into "oh, it has to be x color because y color is out of style" or "ooo, look! it has a computer in the door!" I mean, you can always count on some people being a.) sheep or b.) distracted by shiny nonsense, but you can count on *more* people not wanting $100 worth of meat in their freezer to go bad.
I think I've tangented. Oh well. Happy Monday, all y'all.
xoxo
So, my water bill is $20 less this quarter and I wonder if that is due to my water heater dying for those two weeks or so. Did lack of bathing and extremely quick showers for two weeks really save me $20? Should I just start showering at the Y every day and use the proceeds to go on vacation?!?? Doesn't sound possible. My water bill is one of those things where I have no idea whether I am getting screwed or not. Sometimes it's higher and sometimes it's lower and I just can't understand why, in either direction. Hell, it probably should have been HIGHER this quarter due to those times I left the faucet running in the sink in my menopausal brain fog. Just imagine how much water that wasted! I am probably entirely responsible for the impending collapse of our ecosystem. On the other hand? Guess who has never watered her lawn EVAH?
I read an interesting discussion the other day about new appliances and how their being energy efficient is what causes them to break in 5 years rather than last 20 or 30 like they used to. I'm not quite sure I'm buying that. I think they're purposefully built to only last five years because the manufacturers have figured out that's how they make more money. Who is going to buy a new refrigerator if their old refrigerator is still keeping the food cold? (And their shelves aren't held together with duct tape. Ahem.) I mean, besides the stupid consumers who buy into "oh, it has to be x color because y color is out of style" or "ooo, look! it has a computer in the door!" I mean, you can always count on some people being a.) sheep or b.) distracted by shiny nonsense, but you can count on *more* people not wanting $100 worth of meat in their freezer to go bad.
I think I've tangented. Oh well. Happy Monday, all y'all.
xoxo
Friday, January 20, 2012
linguistic news
I have a new favorite (cranky) saying: "You/they can just suck my non-existent dick."
Feel free to borrow it if you'd like. It works better if you're a girl, though.
Also, in light of recent revelations that Newt asked wife #2 for an open marriage, I would be remiss in not reminding you that when presidents get laid, YOU get paid. /important political discourse
Um, happy Friday, bitches. Carry on.
xoxo
Feel free to borrow it if you'd like. It works better if you're a girl, though.
Also, in light of recent revelations that Newt asked wife #2 for an open marriage, I would be remiss in not reminding you that when presidents get laid, YOU get paid. /important political discourse
Um, happy Friday, bitches. Carry on.
xoxo
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
it occurs to me
...that I totally blew the joke on that last post.
The line should have been "...take a nice long vacation to somewhere you've never been in the company of family or friends that you actually like. If none of them are available, you could always take me!"
I miss my own obvious setup? See. I do need a vacation.
xoxo
P.S. Shutting up now!
The line should have been "...take a nice long vacation to somewhere you've never been in the company of family or friends that you actually like. If none of them are available, you could always take me!"
I miss my own obvious setup? See. I do need a vacation.
xoxo
P.S. Shutting up now!
the benefits of being out of the office
My boss just returned from three weeks in Cambodia and Vietnam. Well, actually 2 1/2 weeks strictly speaking, because when you are going to the complete opposite side of the world, there is much time wasted in traveling. Anyway, we were expecting him back in the office today, but as of early this morning his office door was open, but he wasn't in there. As the staff trickled in, everyone was like, "Is he back? Is he back? Where is he?" (In case it is not clear, we look forward to his return.) I went over to the ATM to get twenty bucks so I could buy breakfast (broke on Tuesday, that's sad) and ran into him. He'd gone to grand rounds on us.
I cannot even tell you how much better he looked. Smiling. Relaxed. Rested. Non-gray (a good color for gowns and hoodies, I maintain, but not complexions.) I remarked on this and he said that he wasn't in fact rested, that they'd been on the go the entire trip, walking, hiking, climbing. And I pointed out that that is *totally* different than being here, swamped with work and aggravation. Seriously, he looks five years younger.
It made me wonder whether, if I could take three weeks away from my normal life (yeah, right), the huge circles and bags under my eyes would disappear and my complexion would regain some of its youthful healthy flush. Barring some kind of miracle, I'm never gonna find out, but it's nice to think about! My advice to you: screw the groupon plastic surgeons and dermatologists and, if you can afford it, take a nice long vacation to somewhere you've never been in the company of family or friends that you actually like. Don't check your email very much while you do. Beauty treatment, yo!
xoxo
I cannot even tell you how much better he looked. Smiling. Relaxed. Rested. Non-gray (a good color for gowns and hoodies, I maintain, but not complexions.) I remarked on this and he said that he wasn't in fact rested, that they'd been on the go the entire trip, walking, hiking, climbing. And I pointed out that that is *totally* different than being here, swamped with work and aggravation. Seriously, he looks five years younger.
It made me wonder whether, if I could take three weeks away from my normal life (yeah, right), the huge circles and bags under my eyes would disappear and my complexion would regain some of its youthful healthy flush. Barring some kind of miracle, I'm never gonna find out, but it's nice to think about! My advice to you: screw the groupon plastic surgeons and dermatologists and, if you can afford it, take a nice long vacation to somewhere you've never been in the company of family or friends that you actually like. Don't check your email very much while you do. Beauty treatment, yo!
xoxo
and in more celeb news
I needed something to read on the kindle while doing cardio. Y'know, something to distract me, at least until the endorphins kick in. And so, having enjoyed Keith Richard's autobiography immensely last year, I thought I would take a chance on the reminiscences of another drugged-out rock star, and I downloaded Steven Tyler's book.
Well. All I can say is, where was the editor? Was there an editor? Did the editor make the editorial decision that Mr Tyler's charm would be, like on American Idol, in his nonsensical and out-of-context babbling? Because, if so, wrong decision. What works as comic relief on a TV talent show doesn't hold up as, y'know, literature. I am only 7% through and we are still in Steven's childhood. Except not really in chronological order. Now Steven's 14! Now he's nine again! It's as if every time a train of thought led him to another memory, he just threw it in there. I am not sure I am going to be able to finish this. I may just have to skip ahead to the drugs, groupies, and dramatic fights with Joe Perry. (Speaking of which, Steven's already mentioned that later he would meet Joe as the best fry cook in NH and Joe would be at his fryolater with his glasses mended with tape. Much like Keith with Mick, I suppose there's no sense in writing a rock n' roll autobiography without taking the opportunity to make subtle, or not so subtle, digs at your bandmates.)
The only other thing I have unread on my kindle at the moment is an anthology of Lovecraft-inspired short stories, and I've already read the one by Neil Gaiman. So I am sure it's all downhill from there. Anyone read anything good lately? Gimme a rec, please.
xoxo
Well. All I can say is, where was the editor? Was there an editor? Did the editor make the editorial decision that Mr Tyler's charm would be, like on American Idol, in his nonsensical and out-of-context babbling? Because, if so, wrong decision. What works as comic relief on a TV talent show doesn't hold up as, y'know, literature. I am only 7% through and we are still in Steven's childhood. Except not really in chronological order. Now Steven's 14! Now he's nine again! It's as if every time a train of thought led him to another memory, he just threw it in there. I am not sure I am going to be able to finish this. I may just have to skip ahead to the drugs, groupies, and dramatic fights with Joe Perry. (Speaking of which, Steven's already mentioned that later he would meet Joe as the best fry cook in NH and Joe would be at his fryolater with his glasses mended with tape. Much like Keith with Mick, I suppose there's no sense in writing a rock n' roll autobiography without taking the opportunity to make subtle, or not so subtle, digs at your bandmates.)
The only other thing I have unread on my kindle at the moment is an anthology of Lovecraft-inspired short stories, and I've already read the one by Neil Gaiman. So I am sure it's all downhill from there. Anyone read anything good lately? Gimme a rec, please.
xoxo
Monday, January 16, 2012
this
...is a very pretty old woman.
This
...is apparently a woman who started drinking early. There's been a lot of internet and other media opinion that this dress is ugly, in particular the color. Is it wrong that I myself would think it were awesome if it wasn't completely see-through? If I were invited to a major awards show, I might wear a gray gown. Gray! It's the color of hoodies!
This
...is a woman who is rumored to be wearing fingerless gloves in all her recent appearances because she's trying to hide her old lady hands. If I were invited to a major awards show, I might need to do the same. Naaahhhhh. Madonna, we all know how old you are. We can google it. Your silly gloves are silly.
I'm too tired to do more.
xoxo
Saturday, January 14, 2012
here's today's questions
I got a groupon this morning offering me 67% off liposuction. I've in the past also seen them for laser eye surgery, spider vein treatment, and...I dunno, other medical treatments of the elective variety. Would it disturb you if your MD was resorting to groupon? I admit, it would me. Also, if they can afford to discount it that much, what is the markup on the original price?
Secondly, I clicked on it (yeah, yeah, I know) and it's actually a "noninvasive, FDA-approved Exilis radiofrequency system", not traditional liposuction per se. They blast your fat cells with radio frequencies. Is it me, or does this sound like a scam? Also, the fine print tells me that while I *may* see improvement after two sessions, a series of four is recommended. Oh! So that's how they can afford to discount it so much--they just suck you into buying another package. Does "FDA-approved" mean it isn't a complete scam or does that just mean it ain't gonna kill you?
I guess hope springs eternal. Everyone wants the magic bullet that's gonna make them thin without them doing any actual, y'know, work. Five people have bought this discount the last time I checked. I wish them and their cellulite the best of luck. I might just hold my thighs close to the microwave when I'm nuking a sweet potato for ten minutes. I'm sure that will do the same thing!
xoxo
Secondly, I clicked on it (yeah, yeah, I know) and it's actually a "noninvasive, FDA-approved Exilis radiofrequency system", not traditional liposuction per se. They blast your fat cells with radio frequencies. Is it me, or does this sound like a scam? Also, the fine print tells me that while I *may* see improvement after two sessions, a series of four is recommended. Oh! So that's how they can afford to discount it so much--they just suck you into buying another package. Does "FDA-approved" mean it isn't a complete scam or does that just mean it ain't gonna kill you?
I guess hope springs eternal. Everyone wants the magic bullet that's gonna make them thin without them doing any actual, y'know, work. Five people have bought this discount the last time I checked. I wish them and their cellulite the best of luck. I might just hold my thighs close to the microwave when I'm nuking a sweet potato for ten minutes. I'm sure that will do the same thing!
xoxo
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
things we must discuss
I feel awfully behind. I have too much writing to do and not enough mental energy/concentration to do it. I blame that on the fact that I am back on a diet for the month of January. My body and brain function better with FOOD. LOTS of food. However as soon as February rolls around, I'ma go back to bulking and I'm bulking for the rest of the year, bitches. You will probably not be able to shut me up then. Anyway, amongst the emails I owe people and the journals and blogs I mean to comment in but haven't and the fact that I have a half-written (okay, quarter-) post waiting for me to finish on the other blog, there's also the fact that I want to discuss some shit with you all. We'll do that...now! Go!
1.) Unless you've been living under a rock/haven't seen any media the past couple days, you'll know by now that my favorite celeb couple, Jay-Z and Beyonce, finally had that baby of theirs. Her name is Blue Ivy. Ivy Blue would have sounded better, but no one asked for my imput. Hmmph. There's also a kurfluffle about them supposedly renting a whole hospital floor for a million bucks to deliver in, which the hospital denies, and also other maternity patients of the hospital bitching that all the extra security and so forth made their own hospital experience less than stellar. The Carter-Knowleses should just shut those whiners up with a ten thousand dollar college scholarship for each of their babies, nomsayin'? Also, in the song Hova wrote about his daughter's birth he confirmed that they did have a prior miscarriage. I'm glad to know that I figured that one out correctly.
2.) What's the deal about Ron Paul? Could someone please explain this to me? I saw this fluff piece on CNN over the weekend where they went to various bars in NH and asked the drinkers what beer they were having and whom they were voting for in the primary, and all the people drinking hipster beers like PBR were voting for Ron Paul. Also, there's this girl on one of my boards who's like 20, apparently a feminist, is planning on going to grad school for literature and becoming a college professor, and who is--how shall I put this?--um, not white, who has had a Ron Paul for President sig line for months, which I always was confused by and wondered if it was some kind of ironic thing I didn't get. But now I presume it isn't. Why do all these college kids and hipsters apparently like this Libertarian guy un-ironically? Can someone clue me in here. (I shoulda hooked up with that off-the-grid NH gun lover when I had the chance; I'm sure he could have filled me in on this shite.)
3.) I keep making streetlights go out when I walk underneath them. Seriously, I went out of a walk last night because I didn't make it to the gym, and it happened three times in 45 minutes. And it's been happening for weeks. Do you think I am developing super powers? Did a radioactive spider bite me when I was unaware? Oh! I forgot to tell you (I think). I woke up last weekone day with a bruise over the vein leading to my right thumb. It looked *exactly* like I had had an IV inserted there. I posited that blackmarket organ thieves broke into my house while I was sleeping and took a kidney but I couldn't find an incision. So then I went with my second theory, alien abduction. So this streetlight thing must be a side effect of my theoretical anal probing or whatever they did to me. See? I cleared that one up without your help. Still tells me nothing about Ron Paul though.
4.) I've wanted to say this for like three weeks but I've been afraid to jinx it. But now that we had a little snow flurry/dusting overnight it's safe. So: Guys! Isn't it awesome that it's the middle of winter and we have no snow and/or ice on the ground and that we've only had a few real cold days interspersed with a bunch of nice lovely warm ones???!?? This is a winter I can get behind, yo.
Okay. That's it for now.
xoxo
1.) Unless you've been living under a rock/haven't seen any media the past couple days, you'll know by now that my favorite celeb couple, Jay-Z and Beyonce, finally had that baby of theirs. Her name is Blue Ivy. Ivy Blue would have sounded better, but no one asked for my imput. Hmmph. There's also a kurfluffle about them supposedly renting a whole hospital floor for a million bucks to deliver in, which the hospital denies, and also other maternity patients of the hospital bitching that all the extra security and so forth made their own hospital experience less than stellar. The Carter-Knowleses should just shut those whiners up with a ten thousand dollar college scholarship for each of their babies, nomsayin'? Also, in the song Hova wrote about his daughter's birth he confirmed that they did have a prior miscarriage. I'm glad to know that I figured that one out correctly.
2.) What's the deal about Ron Paul? Could someone please explain this to me? I saw this fluff piece on CNN over the weekend where they went to various bars in NH and asked the drinkers what beer they were having and whom they were voting for in the primary, and all the people drinking hipster beers like PBR were voting for Ron Paul. Also, there's this girl on one of my boards who's like 20, apparently a feminist, is planning on going to grad school for literature and becoming a college professor, and who is--how shall I put this?--um, not white, who has had a Ron Paul for President sig line for months, which I always was confused by and wondered if it was some kind of ironic thing I didn't get. But now I presume it isn't. Why do all these college kids and hipsters apparently like this Libertarian guy un-ironically? Can someone clue me in here. (I shoulda hooked up with that off-the-grid NH gun lover when I had the chance; I'm sure he could have filled me in on this shite.)
3.) I keep making streetlights go out when I walk underneath them. Seriously, I went out of a walk last night because I didn't make it to the gym, and it happened three times in 45 minutes. And it's been happening for weeks. Do you think I am developing super powers? Did a radioactive spider bite me when I was unaware? Oh! I forgot to tell you (I think). I woke up last weekone day with a bruise over the vein leading to my right thumb. It looked *exactly* like I had had an IV inserted there. I posited that blackmarket organ thieves broke into my house while I was sleeping and took a kidney but I couldn't find an incision. So then I went with my second theory, alien abduction. So this streetlight thing must be a side effect of my theoretical anal probing or whatever they did to me. See? I cleared that one up without your help. Still tells me nothing about Ron Paul though.
4.) I've wanted to say this for like three weeks but I've been afraid to jinx it. But now that we had a little snow flurry/dusting overnight it's safe. So: Guys! Isn't it awesome that it's the middle of winter and we have no snow and/or ice on the ground and that we've only had a few real cold days interspersed with a bunch of nice lovely warm ones???!?? This is a winter I can get behind, yo.
Okay. That's it for now.
xoxo
Friday, January 6, 2012
silver service
Did you all know that those of us with mental illness and other associated brain problems have our own ribbon now? We do! It's silver. I learned this fact here.
Have I mentioned The Bloggess in here before? An online friend, someone with whom I discuss weightlifting and our past (and occasionally present) body image problems and our difficulties with getting the tradespeople we hire to actually come do work in our homes and the complexities of having male children--in other words, someone who really doesn't much know me at all, turned me on to this blog last summer, saying, "I think you'll like her. She writes just like you, so funny and witty." (Actually, since The Bloggess is fairly well-known and makes a living from her writing, the proper phrasing of that sentence is that *I* write just like her, but friends are friends, y'know?) I can't say that I am surprised that a writer who is funny and witty and smart and profane, someone who writes "just like me", turns out to struggle with severe depression, severe enough that she self-harms.
It calls to mind when M2 turned me on to David Foster Wallace, whose writing I had never to that point read. Mr Foster Wallace (Mr Wallace? I dunno if Foster is a middle or last name, mea culpa), in case you don't know, committed suicide a couple years ago or so. In that conversation M2 told me that his voice reminded her of me: really smart, really funny, but with a dark place.
It makes me wonder about the correlation between a certain kind of humor and the crazee. Obviously, it's a defense mechanism. I know I can tell all y'all a story about things my son did and said when he was psychotic in a way that is both hilarious and heartbreaking. But why the humor? Because it keeps the heart from actually breaking. "You gotta laugh or you'll cry." I grew up hearing that and I know the truth of it. Unfortunately in some cases--David Foster Wallace's suicide, The Bloggess's self-harm--it doesn't protect enough. Me, I'm still laughing more than I'm crying most of the time.
So, yeah. Silver ribbon. I'ma hold my breath till they start making silver mental illness awareness toasters and cosmetic bags and shoelaces. And when I turn blue, please apply mouth-to-mouth. I ain't lost my will to live yet.
xoxo
Have I mentioned The Bloggess in here before? An online friend, someone with whom I discuss weightlifting and our past (and occasionally present) body image problems and our difficulties with getting the tradespeople we hire to actually come do work in our homes and the complexities of having male children--in other words, someone who really doesn't much know me at all, turned me on to this blog last summer, saying, "I think you'll like her. She writes just like you, so funny and witty." (Actually, since The Bloggess is fairly well-known and makes a living from her writing, the proper phrasing of that sentence is that *I* write just like her, but friends are friends, y'know?) I can't say that I am surprised that a writer who is funny and witty and smart and profane, someone who writes "just like me", turns out to struggle with severe depression, severe enough that she self-harms.
It calls to mind when M2 turned me on to David Foster Wallace, whose writing I had never to that point read. Mr Foster Wallace (Mr Wallace? I dunno if Foster is a middle or last name, mea culpa), in case you don't know, committed suicide a couple years ago or so. In that conversation M2 told me that his voice reminded her of me: really smart, really funny, but with a dark place.
It makes me wonder about the correlation between a certain kind of humor and the crazee. Obviously, it's a defense mechanism. I know I can tell all y'all a story about things my son did and said when he was psychotic in a way that is both hilarious and heartbreaking. But why the humor? Because it keeps the heart from actually breaking. "You gotta laugh or you'll cry." I grew up hearing that and I know the truth of it. Unfortunately in some cases--David Foster Wallace's suicide, The Bloggess's self-harm--it doesn't protect enough. Me, I'm still laughing more than I'm crying most of the time.
So, yeah. Silver ribbon. I'ma hold my breath till they start making silver mental illness awareness toasters and cosmetic bags and shoelaces. And when I turn blue, please apply mouth-to-mouth. I ain't lost my will to live yet.
xoxo
Monday, January 2, 2012
random things i like
Happy New Year and namaste, bitches. Here are some pictures I have saved recently, most of which don't fit together stylistically in any kind of vision. But I really want that second light. There's got to be somewhere in this house it would go.
Yeah, yeah, I know this is what pinterest is for, and I really was gonna sign up for that, but they make you link it to a facebook account which, bite me, facebook.
xoxo
PS. I really should have had a tag for all my design posts, but I never made one and it's way too late now.
Yeah, yeah, I know this is what pinterest is for, and I really was gonna sign up for that, but they make you link it to a facebook account which, bite me, facebook.
xoxo
PS. I really should have had a tag for all my design posts, but I never made one and it's way too late now.
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