AliThinks

One From The Daily Diary

One of my "intentions" for 2007 was to commit to a project on Flickr. So far I have done very well; I haven't missed a day yet. While some might look at that as "cheating on" my blog, I don't see it that way. They are different things that can be juxtaposed.

Sometimes I am not motivated for the Daily Photo Diary, but I force myself. Perhaps I should force myself to blog?

In any case, here is the latest installment to my diary. I write each entry in English and French, for there are many francophones participating in the project. And it's a good way to maintain my French. As I explained to another Diary participant, I write in English first, then I take what I've written and "speak" to myself in French. These are not direct translations, but I lived in France long enough to know what I am doing with the language, so every word is chosen on purpose...unless I have a mental block and can't remember a term or expression.

Anyway, here you go. The French part is after the fold.

January 30, 2007

Despite the frigid temperature this afternoon, Allan and I went to the Lexington Cemetery. We do that every so often. It is a beautiful place. Today it was especially peaceful. We were the only people walking around the frozen grounds.

I took a number of photos of different headstones. The light was beautiful, and as I looked toward the cloud-feathered sun, I took this photo. When I looked at the preview, I only noticed the vertical crease between my eyebrows. "Good," I thought. "I have a backup photo in case none of the other shots come out the way I wanted."

Only one did.

I often focus on that crease in my forehead.  Sometimes I try to smooth it out. It never stays smooth.

But I will never have Botox injected into it. It's like a scar, and scars symbolize wounds. That crease in my forehead is just a reminder to me of how far I've come, how much I've survived.

Right now my diary portrays a sadness inside me. Here's to evolution; perhaps by next December I'll be back to normal. And the crease will be a little deeper.

Just Give Me The Good Drugs

They say that certain anti-depressants give you bizarre dreams. This might be the understatement of the year.

The dream I had just before waking up this morning was more unsettling than bizarre. And although I don't much like to write down my dreams (mostly because I don't like reading other people's dreams, so who wants to read mine?), I'm going to get this one out of my head.

Oh, wow, I just had a flash of the origins, or maybe it was another dream altogether. So at the beginning, there was a robbery, bearer bonds, bait-and-switch, food poisoning, and salvation via citrus fruit. Somehow it got me to the point I wanted to mention: teaching.

I had some documents, and was analyzing them. Then I realized that I had to teach the next morning. I hadn't prepared a lesson. So the next day, I took these documents to the class, and was going to have the students use them an an exercise. (Yeah, I know, whatever.)

Well, there I was in the class, apparently my first one with this group. And guess what? The students wouldn't stop talking! I knew I had to keep my cool. They were moving around, switching seats, leaving the room, not listening to my direction. Then a female student walked in late. I berated her, in French, and someone told me she was American. So I spoke English to her, and I actually introduced myself. "I'm Alison, but please call me Mrs. [my maiden name]." (This is weird, because as a teacher, I was ALWAYS Mrs. [my married name].)

She sat down, and I managed to get the students working on this "exercise" I'd pulled out of my ass. Then I heard a weird noise. The source was the American girl, and I went to her and yelled "What the hell are you doing making that sonar or radar noise?"

She said "It's my hearing aid."

Oops. So she turned it down, I apologized, and the students kept working. This is where I started to wake up, but I do remember having the kids write the answers on the board, and when we were going to compare, someone had erased half of them!

____________________

Right, so I don't know what it means, except that I should probably never set foot in front of a classroom ever again. It got me thinking about the training I received for my certification in France. Funny how even after that, I felt like a fraud in the classroom.
Anyway, I don't really want to dwell on teaching.

And I need to go. Gotta take that Effexor before I forget.

Rhonda Helped Me

Today my regular (as in, I've seen her twice) massage therapist couldn't work due to a pulled muscle, so I got to have a massage by Rhonda. She told me that she worked the tissue a little deeper than Yvonne, and I said that was okay.

Hoo boy. I can definitely tell she went deep. First, I could feel it during the massage. I had no idea there were so many pea-sized knots in my back. Now, three or so hours later, I'm a little sore. This is okay.

Allan drove me to my appointment, since you can usually pour me into the car when I'm done. (Really, I could drive, but it's nice to zone for a while after a massage). On the way there I ranted to him a little bit about how I'm feeling. It's like this cycle of inertia and frustration. I think of things I want to do, but I have absolutely no motivation. So I don't do anything. Then I get frustrated. And on it goes.

Some might see this as an extension of my tendency toward procrastination, and it probably is. It's definitely been exacerbated by this crappy house situation that I have to deal with. (Things are slowly coming together with that, by the way.)

The thing is, I have no pressing deadlines or obligations. This probably seems like a cool thing to you -- I can just see you rolling your eyes and telling me to get a grip -- but I've come to a realization, thanks to a Wellbutrin-fueled dream.

After so many years of doing a job I didn't want to, living a life I didn't want to, being someone I didn't want to, I am free. Cue The Who or the Soup Dragons, your choice. Now that I can do whatever I want, I'm lost. I don't know what to do. Yes, I realize that this is a great privilege, and it is hard for me not to feel guilty about it.

There are so many choices out there. It's a little overwhelming sometimes.

Rhonda told me that she used to be a psychologist. I think next week I'll ask her if she can recommend a therapist. Because I think a little counseling might help me get over some of this stuff. I've always said that blogging is a great form of therapy, and it is, but there's nothing like face time.

*Wow. I actually did it. I mentioned the "being lost" thing. You have no idea how long it's taken me to get the motivation to write that.

Well, Hell

I can't sleep.

If life were fair, I would be able to express my creative genius during these dark hours. This is when the cat gets his aerobic exercise; the two of us would make an excellent, manic, nocturnal team. Uh, yeah.

Alrighty then, that's about it.

It's Monday Again

Well, isn't that a stupid title? And in case you can't read my mind, I'm more than a little annoyed at my inability to write. There is so much to say, and I wanted to get it out here (Typepad is cheaper than therapy), but I can't make my brain stop whirling long enough to gather my thoughts.

So. Would you like to know why I decided to take a break from blogging a couple of weeks ago? I said it was nothing serious, and it wasn't. Isn't. It's just pain in my ass.

See, now I don't even know where to start.

Okay. My divorce is final, but our house hasn't sold yet. Not completely.

Friday Night Lights

Or something like that. I've been trying to come up with the next installment to my navel-gazing series of blog entries (Oh, you mean all 1200+ posts, Alison? -ed.), but it's not easy. I'm going to struggle to write each one. (You're a smartass, Ed. -Alison)

I don't often look at my stats. Even less often will I look at the search strings that brought people to my blog. The usual keywords, boogers, black eye peace, and super ass are always there, and I don't really want to know about "crossdresser toenail paint," but I know which entry that leads to.

For a few months now, I've been saving some of those search strings. I thought they'd come in handy at some point. They always do. So here's a sample of How People Get To My Blog.
 

I Said "Doctor!" (Doctuhhh!)

Mr. M.D!
Can you tell me
What's ailin' me?

Actually, it's Mrs. M.D., and I went to her today with a list of grievances: constant headaches, insomnia, apathy, twinges of pain in my kidneys and ribs, an aching knee, neck pain, stress.

The first thing she asked was "How's the Wellbutrin working out?"

I said "It's not. I don't want to take it anymore."

Now, I was hoping that she would just tell me to wean off of it, and basta, end of story, but no. She prescribed another medication. With different side-effects. Nausea, anyone?

Why? Because when I told her about what the stress was doing to me, she said "It's related to the depression."

Sigh.

On the other hand, she thought it was a good idea for me to get a massage. Because that bone that sticks out a bit in my lower back? That's no bone. It's a muscle spasm.

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to have a massage, the first in a weekly series. I need to start feeling normal again.

Blue Stars And Moons

It has been raining for three days. The stress I have alluded to is compounded by the weather. I didn't sign up for this! 

Writing it down, exploring it, will take a while, especially if I keep feeling like this. Today was one of those days where you just want to stay in bed. I didn't, but I didn't do everything I'd planned to, either.

This afternoon I said to Allan, "Let's go to Walgreen's or something and get some nice fluorescent light on our faces." We browsed the aisles, just enjoying the bright lights, when I saw some Elmer's Shimmering Shapes Glaze. I checked it out, returned it to the shelf, and walked away. Five seconds later I decided to buy the stuff. I have that ongoing scrapbook project for my kids (and I really need to start it) and this stuff will be a cool thing to use.

I felt great when we left the store. I do believe the artificial lights at Walgreen's made a difference in my attitude.

Originally posted on my Flickr daily diary.

Discovery

Saturday at the co-op, a massage therapist was giving chair massages, five minutes for five dollars. I went ahead and got one. I've been meaning to call for a massage appointment for a week or so now anyway. As we left her temporary digs, Allan picked up one of the pamphlets she had displayed:

Stress Relief With Therapeutic Massage

He handed it to me and I stuffed it in my pocket. He knows I have been stressed out lately.

Later on, I read the pamphlet. And wow. It described me. And so many things clicked in my head.

I've been in quite a state lately, and I am not up to writing about it all now. But it looks like I'm back to the blog. Hope you're ready for a trip.

We Interrupt This Hiatus

...to whisper in your ear that today is Allan's birthday.

Something's Gotta Give

And it's going to be this blog, at least for a while.

There's stuff going on that I can't don't want to blog about, and while it's not bad stuff, it's sapping my energy. I can't take care of it all. I haven't been inspired to blog these past few weeks anyway.

Who knows? I may be back at this in two or three days. Or not.

My best to you.

From The Ice-Age To The Dole-Age

There is but one concern
I have just discovered:

Strawberry cream cheese!

Have you tried this thick pink goo?
If you've not, let me ask you

Could you eat it with a steak?
Would you try it on some cake?

Have you had it on some toast?
Would you like it that way most?

Please try just a small wee bit
This sweet cream cheese is the shit!

Apologies to Morrissey and Dr. Seuss.

Dinner

I just posted this photo to my thread in the Flickr Daily Photo Diary group. Each photo is supposed to represent your day. Here's the accompanying text:

Not that this describes my day or anything. This could represent any day of the week, because Allan and I will inevitably say, at some point during the afternoon, "What do you want for dinner?" Today was no exception, and we talked about cooking some ground lamb (we have some in the freezer) in some Trader Joe's simmer sauce. A little bit ago, as we were walking around the neighborhood, Allan said "We could go to Kroger and get some fresh ground lamb, or some salmon, or something." We were walking past Tomo, a local sushi bar and restaurant, so I replied "Sushi."

And we got sushi. Maybe we'll cook the ground lamb for dinner tomorrow night.

So tell me: do you like sushi? What's your favorite kind?

Rasafrackin' Blogger!

Blogger (and hence all .blogspot blogs) has been (to quote my blogfriend Joolie) a butt today.

'Nuff said.

For Mist

Yesterday (or was it the day before? I don't know because yesterday sucked, and this doesn't suck) Mist 1 sent Allan and me* an e-mail saying that she had nominated us both for Best Photo Blog in the 2007 Bloggies.

I thanked her, and all she said was, "Now post some photos!"

Of course, my photos don't hold a candle to Allan's, but below the fold are some especially for Mist.

*Yes, that is proper grammar.

Chuckle

Seen on a tag at Pops Resale:

Very very old cookie jar!

$9.95

Includes crack