Yeah, I have body issues. I believe most are deserved.
P knew my body issues and did all he could to put them at ease. One thing I miss the most about his was his greeting, whether by phone or in person: "Hey Gorgeous!" Without fail. I didn't necessarily feel gorgeous, nor did I really think he always thought me gorgeous, but the effort really meant a lot.
I distinctly remember two weeks ago in the blow up with Luke how he didn't compliment me at all, to the point that I felt unattractive. I remembered that the last time he'd told me I looked nice was about three hours into the night at the ballet way back at Thanksgiving. I remember being so proud of the red blouse he knew I'd purchased just for the occasion. When he finally had said something about my appearance, it served to be rather counter-productive in the too little, too late vein. A day or two later was the first time I broke up with him, but the underlying reason for it to end was him being so scattered. As I finally learned over time, him not complimenting me was not a result of him being scattered. He was completely self-absorbed and couldn't even take the hint when I fished and told him that he looked nice.
It comes down to training, but that's not all. Many times I have said that my goal is to raise a good husband in my son. Women won't be a mystery to him, nor will an apology or a sense of humor. It'll flow that he'll be an attentive dad as well as husband.
This evening, ex just took him out for dinner rather than having him over night because the baby is sick. As they ran in the store on an errand, J told his dad that he really liked his shoes with those pants. And he really liked his hat.
Rather surprised, ex stopped and asked, "Okay, what do you want?" to which J replied he didn't want anything.
"I'm just being nice," he explained. "When I tell Mom in the morning that she's pretty, it makes her feel good all day."
Indeed. I have no idea where he got this, but he tells me, the cat, and the fish daily and with feeling that we're pretty. Indeed.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Roll over, roll over
The other night I was out with the group, having rode with Ted. Lee was going to drive us - his truck with the camper lid thing - but decided to not come out of his way for us, so we met him there. It was both foretelling and fortunate.
Once there, I secured some seats at a tall table, had a few beers, shared some appetizers. I was waiting on the pokey band to start and was willing to be a little away from the group in order to have a seat.
Then something suddenly changed in my mood and I really wanted to be anti-social and alone. I'd gotten up to get a Diet Coke and a switch turned. I sat by myself and heard concerned whispers about it. A while later, I realized that my neck hurt and I must have been in pain. (I'm so hard headed that I don't always recognize pain right away.) So between the Advil and the caffeine kicking in, I suddenly felt more social.
Later on, Ted commented on me sitting alone; others were concerned, too. He'd come to check on me once, but it goes to show that he listens. He said he let me be, that I was having an introverted moment. How perceptive! If someone had forced me to be social before I was ready, I'd have bitten their head off.
It is unusual for me to have a mood change like that, but I sure am glad it changed back.
We all stayed until the bar closed, so things definitely turned around for the better. The gossip was too good. I love hearing the dirt, while I simultaneously know that I was "the one with all the drama" a few weeks ago. Oh well.
Afterward, Lee wanted to show us his camper and we were potentially going to sleep (yes, sleep) together as a threesome again to avoid driving. We hung out, had some Crown, as Lee showed us all the camper's features. Cool toy. We then sat at the table and talked more, but the discussion turned to politics. Mild mannered Lee became a raging, screaming Republican who could not tolerate Ted being an Independent. I gently kept trying to say that I am, too, but Lee was too far gone in his anger, pointing, and screaming. Ted had put him over the edge and Ted had been completely calm.
Having had enough (of that night and of their two year association he refused to call a friendship),Ted said it was time to go and we did. It was strange. We didn't know if Lee had more to drink that we'd realized. At least we were okay to drive an hour home.
I like Ted. He and I can joke (even fake yell and call each other bitch; he's very Italian and you'd think NYer if you didn't know better) or seriously discuss anything. He's ADHD, has been medicated in the past, and he thinks the way his brain is wired gives him tremendous insight. He says he sees and puts things together that others don't. I believe it.
Of course, before the fight they learned I have a blog so everyone's last breath is always that they'll find it. Needle in a haystack. I told them both that they already had fake names. Guess that makes it all the more attractive to learn the scoop I'm dishing.
This is babbling, but it's where I am now. Ted and I talked by phone last night for probably 90 minutes. He is so entertaining and we get each other. I'm not sure we're for each other. In fact, Saturday night I said, based on the gossip, how unwise it seems to be to date anyone from the single's group, as it is better served as a friend thing and social outlet than complicating it with dating. Alas, it's ironic to not want to date from within a single's group. Having a social life is better.
Once there, I secured some seats at a tall table, had a few beers, shared some appetizers. I was waiting on the pokey band to start and was willing to be a little away from the group in order to have a seat.
Then something suddenly changed in my mood and I really wanted to be anti-social and alone. I'd gotten up to get a Diet Coke and a switch turned. I sat by myself and heard concerned whispers about it. A while later, I realized that my neck hurt and I must have been in pain. (I'm so hard headed that I don't always recognize pain right away.) So between the Advil and the caffeine kicking in, I suddenly felt more social.
Later on, Ted commented on me sitting alone; others were concerned, too. He'd come to check on me once, but it goes to show that he listens. He said he let me be, that I was having an introverted moment. How perceptive! If someone had forced me to be social before I was ready, I'd have bitten their head off.
It is unusual for me to have a mood change like that, but I sure am glad it changed back.
We all stayed until the bar closed, so things definitely turned around for the better. The gossip was too good. I love hearing the dirt, while I simultaneously know that I was "the one with all the drama" a few weeks ago. Oh well.
Afterward, Lee wanted to show us his camper and we were potentially going to sleep (yes, sleep) together as a threesome again to avoid driving. We hung out, had some Crown, as Lee showed us all the camper's features. Cool toy. We then sat at the table and talked more, but the discussion turned to politics. Mild mannered Lee became a raging, screaming Republican who could not tolerate Ted being an Independent. I gently kept trying to say that I am, too, but Lee was too far gone in his anger, pointing, and screaming. Ted had put him over the edge and Ted had been completely calm.
Having had enough (of that night and of their two year association he refused to call a friendship),Ted said it was time to go and we did. It was strange. We didn't know if Lee had more to drink that we'd realized. At least we were okay to drive an hour home.
I like Ted. He and I can joke (even fake yell and call each other bitch; he's very Italian and you'd think NYer if you didn't know better) or seriously discuss anything. He's ADHD, has been medicated in the past, and he thinks the way his brain is wired gives him tremendous insight. He says he sees and puts things together that others don't. I believe it.
Of course, before the fight they learned I have a blog so everyone's last breath is always that they'll find it. Needle in a haystack. I told them both that they already had fake names. Guess that makes it all the more attractive to learn the scoop I'm dishing.
This is babbling, but it's where I am now. Ted and I talked by phone last night for probably 90 minutes. He is so entertaining and we get each other. I'm not sure we're for each other. In fact, Saturday night I said, based on the gossip, how unwise it seems to be to date anyone from the single's group, as it is better served as a friend thing and social outlet than complicating it with dating. Alas, it's ironic to not want to date from within a single's group. Having a social life is better.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
It worked
"So ... tonight ... out ... dance with other friends ... maybe go see a band ... drink max of two beers at each place ... behave ... ignore Luke ... have fun in spite of any other factors."
And I did. I am proud it worked.
When I arrived, I quickly scanned the parking lot, but didn't see his car. Mr. Paranoid will say he has a nondescript one on purpose; it's invisibility worked on me. I wasn't expecting to see him inside, but oops there he was. Simultaneous to that, though, was the guy whose bed I slept in - well, he and the guy who had shared the room two weeks ago - that saved me from riding back in the van. Then things were cool, because I was adored and I like being adored. heh
Miss Conservative Dress here wore her lowest cut top (which isn't even low enough to show cleavage), but it seemed to work nonetheless. I should invest in more.
Anyway, I stayed at that place a while, met new people, danced a little, etc. It's a singles group I meet with, so kinda like ready-made friends, although some I've know almost five years. I participate with the group based on who I am dating and whether or not they want to participate. P didn't, so we didn't. Others didn't, so I didn't. I've never actually dated anyone from within the group, though.
It was fun, but low key. I wanted to hop to the next place with the band and the guy who I'd (not)slept with - I guess he needs a name, like Ted, b/c it sounds like bed - rode with me. See! I drank two beers over a couple hours and could drive! I behaved.
The next place had an incredible band I'd wanted to see. Excellent. Lots of dancing, although Ted takes booze to dance and he didn't have enough. But there were others to dance with.
Then of course, freak Luke followed me there. The gall of that guy. I can see getting to a breaking point with feeling shadowed. He arrived with traitor (but a very nice guy) who had been Ted's roommate in the hotel. He needs a name, too. He'll be Lee.
So Lee and Luke arrived together. After a while, I asked Lee to dance and I sat between Ted and Lee. Luke stood behind us, as it was a very small bar. It was creepy, except I was having fun and dancing - 1.5 beers total.
I don't get that guy, Luke. Following me. As I was dancing and glancing around, I saw him watching me. Maybe he finally thinks I'm attractive now that it's too late.
He finally left alone and without a word between us. Never danced.
I held my tongue last night, but I don't see that lasting forever. Who's stalking whom?
As an aside, there was this regular at the second bar who was eyeing me. My god, he was young and ever so cute. One friend, a regular at that bar, came up to me and said he's always thought the guy looked like Matt Da.mon. After (painfully) studying him a while, I decided he looks more like Heath Led.ger, quite yummy. He saw me looking at him as I was blatantly trying to do research (heh), and made noises, okay, I am so shallow, he made cat calls after I'd stood next to him at the bar getting a water. Heath Led.ger made cat calls. Swoon.
I'll take it where I can get it, because I am that shallow sometimes.
Let's see what pans out tonight at another gathering...
And I did. I am proud it worked.
When I arrived, I quickly scanned the parking lot, but didn't see his car. Mr. Paranoid will say he has a nondescript one on purpose; it's invisibility worked on me. I wasn't expecting to see him inside, but oops there he was. Simultaneous to that, though, was the guy whose bed I slept in - well, he and the guy who had shared the room two weeks ago - that saved me from riding back in the van. Then things were cool, because I was adored and I like being adored. heh
Miss Conservative Dress here wore her lowest cut top (which isn't even low enough to show cleavage), but it seemed to work nonetheless. I should invest in more.
Anyway, I stayed at that place a while, met new people, danced a little, etc. It's a singles group I meet with, so kinda like ready-made friends, although some I've know almost five years. I participate with the group based on who I am dating and whether or not they want to participate. P didn't, so we didn't. Others didn't, so I didn't. I've never actually dated anyone from within the group, though.
It was fun, but low key. I wanted to hop to the next place with the band and the guy who I'd (not)slept with - I guess he needs a name, like Ted, b/c it sounds like bed - rode with me. See! I drank two beers over a couple hours and could drive! I behaved.
The next place had an incredible band I'd wanted to see. Excellent. Lots of dancing, although Ted takes booze to dance and he didn't have enough. But there were others to dance with.
Then of course, freak Luke followed me there. The gall of that guy. I can see getting to a breaking point with feeling shadowed. He arrived with traitor (but a very nice guy) who had been Ted's roommate in the hotel. He needs a name, too. He'll be Lee.
So Lee and Luke arrived together. After a while, I asked Lee to dance and I sat between Ted and Lee. Luke stood behind us, as it was a very small bar. It was creepy, except I was having fun and dancing - 1.5 beers total.
I don't get that guy, Luke. Following me. As I was dancing and glancing around, I saw him watching me. Maybe he finally thinks I'm attractive now that it's too late.
He finally left alone and without a word between us. Never danced.
I held my tongue last night, but I don't see that lasting forever. Who's stalking whom?
As an aside, there was this regular at the second bar who was eyeing me. My god, he was young and ever so cute. One friend, a regular at that bar, came up to me and said he's always thought the guy looked like Matt Da.mon. After (painfully) studying him a while, I decided he looks more like Heath Led.ger, quite yummy. He saw me looking at him as I was blatantly trying to do research (heh), and made noises, okay, I am so shallow, he made cat calls after I'd stood next to him at the bar getting a water. Heath Led.ger made cat calls. Swoon.
I'll take it where I can get it, because I am that shallow sometimes.
Let's see what pans out tonight at another gathering...
Friday, January 26, 2007
Squint pictures
Before the ceremony two weeks ago, I asked Luke if he would come be the photographer. He said he would not. I told him I'd asked my son, but I wasn't exactly sure how that would pan out. Then I asked him, "You would rather I have no pictures than you come and take some." "Yes," he replied. He sat on his butt at home rather that 1) be helpful, 2) be supportive, 3) be in the same room as my ex husband (I guess?)
Little did I know that no pictures would actually be the case. My son did take some pictures before the ceremony began, but surprisingly ex, who is better to me than I let on, took over 60 pictures. Some were stellar, had they been clear. My camera's focus went kaput and not one single picture came out, as foretold by my conversation with Luke, the putz. Over the previous month, it'd had pictures here and there that were bad, but I'd thought it was the camera affected by the cold or something.
I desperately want another - I live to take pictures - but I just can't right now. I like a Canon that's about $175.
So here are a couple of fuzzy pictures from that night. Two have the purpose of showing off me after 30 lbs lost. I've gotten back on the wagon after my thyroid med has been adjusted upward enough to kick in some metabolism.
Good choice wearing black, but I do think I look loads better.
My hands are clammy over the following. Tonight is a gathering with the potential for having to see Luke. I hope not. He is a spineless little man, but he made me out to be crazy and asked that I not come up to him at gatherings and embarrass him. He thinks a bit too highly of himself, as I told him, but it makes me want to throw a drink in his face all the more. I wish he had believed me when I broke up with him the first or second time; when he called me after the third time, I screamed like a banshee so as to convince him that I don't want him in my life, that factors existed well before I got drunk and blew off steam an hour from home. Heh, he had the gall to ask then why I didn't take care of things before that night and I replied that I had already broken up with him twice and he kept calling! That said, it was easier to make me out as stalkery, even though I've done nothing to deserve his angst, except get frustrated enough to deservedly yell at him.
I wish he had never been. And I am a bit nervous about potentially seeing him tonight. I want to go, am usually good at pushing myself, but I don't want to hurt myself in the process.
So ... tonight ... out ... dance with other friends ... maybe go see a band ... drink max of two beers at each place ... behave ... ignore Luke ... have fun in spite of any other factors.
Little did I know that no pictures would actually be the case. My son did take some pictures before the ceremony began, but surprisingly ex, who is better to me than I let on, took over 60 pictures. Some were stellar, had they been clear. My camera's focus went kaput and not one single picture came out, as foretold by my conversation with Luke, the putz. Over the previous month, it'd had pictures here and there that were bad, but I'd thought it was the camera affected by the cold or something.
I desperately want another - I live to take pictures - but I just can't right now. I like a Canon that's about $175.
So here are a couple of fuzzy pictures from that night. Two have the purpose of showing off me after 30 lbs lost. I've gotten back on the wagon after my thyroid med has been adjusted upward enough to kick in some metabolism.
Good choice wearing black, but I do think I look loads better.
My hands are clammy over the following. Tonight is a gathering with the potential for having to see Luke. I hope not. He is a spineless little man, but he made me out to be crazy and asked that I not come up to him at gatherings and embarrass him. He thinks a bit too highly of himself, as I told him, but it makes me want to throw a drink in his face all the more. I wish he had believed me when I broke up with him the first or second time; when he called me after the third time, I screamed like a banshee so as to convince him that I don't want him in my life, that factors existed well before I got drunk and blew off steam an hour from home. Heh, he had the gall to ask then why I didn't take care of things before that night and I replied that I had already broken up with him twice and he kept calling! That said, it was easier to make me out as stalkery, even though I've done nothing to deserve his angst, except get frustrated enough to deservedly yell at him.
I wish he had never been. And I am a bit nervous about potentially seeing him tonight. I want to go, am usually good at pushing myself, but I don't want to hurt myself in the process.
So ... tonight ... out ... dance with other friends ... maybe go see a band ... drink max of two beers at each place ... behave ... ignore Luke ... have fun in spite of any other factors.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Why blog?
Why do you blog?
Complete this survey and potentially win an iPod. Link to it and potentially win $50.
Only takes about five minutes.
Complete this survey and potentially win an iPod. Link to it and potentially win $50.
Only takes about five minutes.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Sans recommendation
I saw two movies recently, both starring some very powerful women. I was disappointed in both, although both still garnered Oscar nominations this morning.
Yes, Penelope Cruz is beautiful and she looked like Sophia Loren in Volver, but I do not think buoyant boobs do a great movie make. It had its clever moments, many even funny. But Oscar? No. It does not deserve the beef. It is a cute little movie that fell short to me even before awards were announced for Cruz.
Tataaas = Oscaaas.
The other movie, Notes on a Scandal, had Cate Blanchette boobies, but more the free spirit, hang loose version, not choking her at the neckline. It had no Judi Dench boobs. This is another movie for which I am not understanding the acclaim, except it had great actresses in a mediocre, drawn out story. Again, parts were clever, but much was predictable and boring.
Maybe in this one, it was the teenaged love interest that was so, umm, interesting. I am a sucker for a brunette with clear, light blue eyes and pale skin. Yum. Been the source of crushes for years.
Yes, Penelope Cruz is beautiful and she looked like Sophia Loren in Volver, but I do not think buoyant boobs do a great movie make. It had its clever moments, many even funny. But Oscar? No. It does not deserve the beef. It is a cute little movie that fell short to me even before awards were announced for Cruz.
Tataaas = Oscaaas.
The other movie, Notes on a Scandal, had Cate Blanchette boobies, but more the free spirit, hang loose version, not choking her at the neckline. It had no Judi Dench boobs. This is another movie for which I am not understanding the acclaim, except it had great actresses in a mediocre, drawn out story. Again, parts were clever, but much was predictable and boring.
Maybe in this one, it was the teenaged love interest that was so, umm, interesting. I am a sucker for a brunette with clear, light blue eyes and pale skin. Yum. Been the source of crushes for years.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Pro-Choice
I am compelled to add to the many pro-choice declarations I read today.
I have always been pro-choice, believing in a woman's right to choose about maintaining a pregnancy. I believe that the woman's rights come before any embryo's or fetus'. Because the cells could not live on their own, I have always thought of them as a parasite which a woman could choose to support or not.
Of course, I personally prefer the supporting of such cells, but I distinctly remember the realization after I had my beautiful newborn that I was still pro-choice, perhaps even moreso after the ravages of pregnancy and labor.
Pregnancy is a very difficult thing. It and labor are to be merely endured. They should be a choice. What pregnancy and labor do to a woman's body should be a choice as well.
It is not that I take life lightly, as I would pay almost anything to be given another chance to create life. Even as such, nobody owes life to another. Sustaining a pregnancy is a burden and should remain as a choice.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
SIF and satire
I saw an interesting movie yesterday called Idiocracy. It's from the guy, Mike Jud.ge, who did Office Space and featured a couple of the same actors. I had not realized that the same guy also did Beavis and Butthead; Idiocracy is a bit closer to that in tone.
Idiocracy is simultaneously one of the dumbest and brightest movies I've ever seen. I guess that's the power of satire, to point out and confound. I was actually surprised to see it garner as high as 68% on Rotten Tomatoes. The original title was "The United States of Uhh-merica" and that paints the right picture.
The premise is that the people of the present are of one of two extremes. Those with genius IQ marry, but never get around to procreating because of timing of careers or the market or whatever. Opposite that, the animalistic people with IQs of 75 procreate in the back of cars quite effectively, having a dozen babies with a dozen like-minded partners.
Fast forward several hundred generations. Evolution doesn't favor the intelligent over time, according to the narrator. It favors sheer numbers.
The completely average main characters are propelled 1000 years into the future only to find that they are the smartest people on Earth. They find a crumbling civilization in which normal conversation is akin to Jerry Springer on 'ludes. Of course, average joe from 2005, Luke Wils.on, applies a little logic and saves the day.
Really, the concept makes SIF even more poignant. I sure would like to have propagated my genes a bit more for the sake of society. heh
Idiocracy is simultaneously one of the dumbest and brightest movies I've ever seen. I guess that's the power of satire, to point out and confound. I was actually surprised to see it garner as high as 68% on Rotten Tomatoes. The original title was "The United States of Uhh-merica" and that paints the right picture.
The premise is that the people of the present are of one of two extremes. Those with genius IQ marry, but never get around to procreating because of timing of careers or the market or whatever. Opposite that, the animalistic people with IQs of 75 procreate in the back of cars quite effectively, having a dozen babies with a dozen like-minded partners.
Fast forward several hundred generations. Evolution doesn't favor the intelligent over time, according to the narrator. It favors sheer numbers.
The completely average main characters are propelled 1000 years into the future only to find that they are the smartest people on Earth. They find a crumbling civilization in which normal conversation is akin to Jerry Springer on 'ludes. Of course, average joe from 2005, Luke Wils.on, applies a little logic and saves the day.
Really, the concept makes SIF even more poignant. I sure would like to have propagated my genes a bit more for the sake of society. heh
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Daddy strikes again
During visitation, prior to going with Scouts to the police station having the giggled over paddy wagon, Dad was taking J shopping. J is trying out for a baseball team and needs (not really because they're just practicing inside but...) cleats. He did outgrow his bats, so he needed another, well, obviously two, actually. One for each, um, arm. He also desperately needed a new baseball bag, because his old one was the fancy version embroidered with the old team.
Could they stop with the abundance of baseball gear? No. On a roll, NASCAR had to cruise into the picture and my son now has the jacket. To apparently wear while with me. In public. With me. Outside.
Daddy deserves that paddy wagon.
In comparison, I really didn't mind the days when he wore cowboy boots with shorts.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Classics
Thank you so much for your kind words. They really helped me feel better. Although the bronchitis still lingers, I do feel more together. I go back tomorrow for one session of biofeedback and will approach it with as much relaxation and calm as I can pry out of my tortured soul.
I need to change the subject.
I remember my first set of books. It was Dr. Seuss and it came by mail, piece by piece. Opening the first installment and each thereafter, I was beside myself with excitement, perhaps four years old. Are You My Mother? was the first that came and I felt for that poor little bird wandering around. That bird and I still have a lot in common.
Around that time, my very favorite story was in a collection of volumes of children's classics that my parents had purchased. I referred to the story as Water Babies and always thought it wasn't the real title, but I learn now that apparently it is close. It is equated to Peter Pan in era and topic. I think we must have read the abridged version, as we'd read the whole piece over a few nights - over and over.
I don't remember being an avid book reader until later. The years in between, I loved coloring in coloring books, creating garish costumes on the pages. My son is the opposite; he has never cared for coloring books, always drawing and coloring his own creations. I am still working on his love of books in general.
When I was about 13, ca 1975, I had the luck of living in a neighborhood where the bookmobile parked right outside my house each week. I loaded up. My parents hearts swelled with the sheer numbers of thick books I was going through each week. I don't think it ever occurred to them that historical fiction like Jean Plaidy is very soft porn for the adult and delightfully hard porn for the young teen. I was captivated.
All through my adulthood, I collected children's books, even well before the prospect of me having any even occurred to me. My son was born to a decent library. That library gets added to often.
A couple years ago, I stumbled upon a $2 sale of Great Illustrated Classics and loaded up on 30-40 of them. Since then, I've added a few more titles. I decided at the very least that I would read them and have done so with Oliver Twist and The Portrait of Dorian Gray. I have cajoled my son to read a few on his own - Swiss Family Robinson and part of Frankenstein. He floundered a bit.
I decided that the exposure to the (condensed and watered down) literature is more important than him reading it himself, so we began reading together, which shifted to me reading to him. Not a bad gig. We finished Hans Brinker last week and are working on Heidi now. They are two of my all time favorite stories/movies from childhood. I remember my mother and sister crying to the Heidi movie each time it came on, as I acted all stoic like I wasn't moved. Me acting unemotional - who knew?
I think we'll do either Call of the Wild or Alice in Wonderland next. Or perhaps Peter Pan or Robin Hood or Huck Finn. I'm not going to push Little Women or Pride and Prejudice just yet.
Growing up, I just didn't choose to read classics on my own and fudged on them through HS and college. I am making up for lost time reading with my son, hoping it makes a grand impression on him.
What classics did you enjoy as a child? What do you wish you'd read?
I need to change the subject.
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I remember my first set of books. It was Dr. Seuss and it came by mail, piece by piece. Opening the first installment and each thereafter, I was beside myself with excitement, perhaps four years old. Are You My Mother? was the first that came and I felt for that poor little bird wandering around. That bird and I still have a lot in common.
Around that time, my very favorite story was in a collection of volumes of children's classics that my parents had purchased. I referred to the story as Water Babies and always thought it wasn't the real title, but I learn now that apparently it is close. It is equated to Peter Pan in era and topic. I think we must have read the abridged version, as we'd read the whole piece over a few nights - over and over.
I don't remember being an avid book reader until later. The years in between, I loved coloring in coloring books, creating garish costumes on the pages. My son is the opposite; he has never cared for coloring books, always drawing and coloring his own creations. I am still working on his love of books in general.
When I was about 13, ca 1975, I had the luck of living in a neighborhood where the bookmobile parked right outside my house each week. I loaded up. My parents hearts swelled with the sheer numbers of thick books I was going through each week. I don't think it ever occurred to them that historical fiction like Jean Plaidy is very soft porn for the adult and delightfully hard porn for the young teen. I was captivated.
All through my adulthood, I collected children's books, even well before the prospect of me having any even occurred to me. My son was born to a decent library. That library gets added to often.
A couple years ago, I stumbled upon a $2 sale of Great Illustrated Classics and loaded up on 30-40 of them. Since then, I've added a few more titles. I decided at the very least that I would read them and have done so with Oliver Twist and The Portrait of Dorian Gray. I have cajoled my son to read a few on his own - Swiss Family Robinson and part of Frankenstein. He floundered a bit.
I decided that the exposure to the (condensed and watered down) literature is more important than him reading it himself, so we began reading together, which shifted to me reading to him. Not a bad gig. We finished Hans Brinker last week and are working on Heidi now. They are two of my all time favorite stories/movies from childhood. I remember my mother and sister crying to the Heidi movie each time it came on, as I acted all stoic like I wasn't moved. Me acting unemotional - who knew?
I think we'll do either Call of the Wild or Alice in Wonderland next. Or perhaps Peter Pan or Robin Hood or Huck Finn. I'm not going to push Little Women or Pride and Prejudice just yet.
Growing up, I just didn't choose to read classics on my own and fudged on them through HS and college. I am making up for lost time reading with my son, hoping it makes a grand impression on him.
What classics did you enjoy as a child? What do you wish you'd read?
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
No fun, no fair
In the last week, I have gone from a possible thyroxine overdose (again) to possible reactions to cough suppressants for bronchitis (and after reducing/eliminating both) to maybe hypomanic, something I rarely do , especially for so long. With my period starting today and my hormones falling, I am a mess.
Today my biofeedback PhD said that if her stuff puts me on a rollercoaster, then she has to stop. I said that the rollercoaster is not yet confirmed. I feel like she was looking for a reason to cut me loose and feel like such a failure over something I can't control in the least. The pivotal thing was me not doing better today on this computerized ADHD measurement tool today. ADHD begins with anything below a score of -1.8 and the first time I took it I scored -5.5, so significantly ADHD. After 20 sessions, it improved to -4.5, which apparently isn't a big enough leap for her.
I told her that I knew I was a hard case with all the side effects I got from meds, but I never expected to be a hard case there. She said all her clients are like snowflakes, each are unique. That didn't comfort me in the least, however she did finally ask if I felt like another block of 20 sessions would make a difference; she was reluctant. I don't want to be given up on; I want it to work. I told her I want to try, so I will have the same ADHD test after 40 total sessions. This set of 20 in the meantime, however, will be three times a week instead of two sessions twice a week. It made it easier to schedule others in their office - me the gratis patient taking up two hour blocks twice a week - and I think it'll actually be easier on me not to have the drill of back-to-back sessions.
The tears waited until I was at the car. I tried to call my therapist to she if she could fit me in this afternoon, but it went straight to voicemail. That meant she was there, so I headed over. She is the most caring and gracious support I could ever ask for. She had 30 minutes to talk to me and I left feeling so much better. On the drive to her place, I kept telling myself that I can't give up on myself even if others do. I have not felt this hopeless in quite some time. I am usually the even, unmoody one, so this buzzy/shaky thing I've had for a week is very unnerving. I'd had a psychiatrist's appt for today, but she called this morning saying she had a close family member die, so I didn't have that to fall back on. Thank goodness for my therapist.
I conveyed to her about the biofeedback PhD, someone we've talked about before as having little bedside manner. She was surprised at the conclusions she was drawing rather hastily and did not like that she tested me today while feeling ill with bronchitis. That would negate any parallels between the two testing sessions. We talked about a few other things as well related to biofeedback possibly causing bipolar to cycle, but neither of us feels like that is the case. I can't say that biofeedback caused these jitters. Also, the biofeedback PhD had overreacted to one report I'd given (you have to say how you've felt since the last session) and said I was depressed, when I was not. She compared me to the worm in horseradish who says the who world smells like horseradish; I think it is rash for her to come to that conclusion about me.
It has been a horrible week.
The ceremony was the highlight. Thank goodness for that.
Saturday evening was the lowlight when Luke and I joined others for a night out in another city. We shared a van, so I decided to party. Actually, I didn't want to go, because of my bronchitis, but he really wanted to. Imagine going in a van to another city and being under their timetable. During the evening, when I said, "You don't seem that into me," he said, "It's because I'm not. And we're not going to discuss it this evening." Hmmm, so I did a verbal summary, he said I got it right, so I said there was no reason for me to sit with him any longer. I have no clue was set off Mr. Corn-Cob-Up-The-Ass, but this crash and burn is a sure fired way to make sure it really is over. All I figure is that him being so sensitive and lacking a sense of humor and being very conscious of things being 'in public' that I inadvertently did something wrong. I don't need those egg shells.
So I drank more and danced and met this Sau.di guy who I bummed cigs off of. I was drunk and free, but not badly behaved, well, except for that once when I flashed why I got my beads. Everyone else was just as crazy, except Luke, who sat by himself.
Rather than take the van back, I stayed over with two guys who had a room. I slept with one, but that was all. He played with my hair. We three had a leisurely ride back on Sunday.
I am not interested in clearing up the Luke mystery. The guy lives with so many rules in his little world that I do not fit. Last week after his first therapy session, he finally admitted to being an addictive personality and it made things so clear to me.
Before the van left Saturday night, they asked if I needed anything. Someone is holding my coat for me and also told Luke to mail in my NetFlix for me. That's truly all I care about. Getting the three DVDs back in the mail, mostly because I know how difficult he makes something as simple as peeling of a sticky strip and putting something in a mailbox. He can be that hardheaded and uncooperative, acting helpless with something very simple just so he does not have to be responsible. He is an irksome little man.
He did call and leave me a message on Sunday. I've yet to listen to it. I hung up on the call by accident as I pulled the phone from my purse, then realized I was happy it had happened. I guess he's not that concerned about my well-being, as Mr. Pseudo-Knight hasn't called back or looked for my body in a ditch. He sure as hell let me down.
Crash and burn. My life story.
Today my biofeedback PhD said that if her stuff puts me on a rollercoaster, then she has to stop. I said that the rollercoaster is not yet confirmed. I feel like she was looking for a reason to cut me loose and feel like such a failure over something I can't control in the least. The pivotal thing was me not doing better today on this computerized ADHD measurement tool today. ADHD begins with anything below a score of -1.8 and the first time I took it I scored -5.5, so significantly ADHD. After 20 sessions, it improved to -4.5, which apparently isn't a big enough leap for her.
I told her that I knew I was a hard case with all the side effects I got from meds, but I never expected to be a hard case there. She said all her clients are like snowflakes, each are unique. That didn't comfort me in the least, however she did finally ask if I felt like another block of 20 sessions would make a difference; she was reluctant. I don't want to be given up on; I want it to work. I told her I want to try, so I will have the same ADHD test after 40 total sessions. This set of 20 in the meantime, however, will be three times a week instead of two sessions twice a week. It made it easier to schedule others in their office - me the gratis patient taking up two hour blocks twice a week - and I think it'll actually be easier on me not to have the drill of back-to-back sessions.
The tears waited until I was at the car. I tried to call my therapist to she if she could fit me in this afternoon, but it went straight to voicemail. That meant she was there, so I headed over. She is the most caring and gracious support I could ever ask for. She had 30 minutes to talk to me and I left feeling so much better. On the drive to her place, I kept telling myself that I can't give up on myself even if others do. I have not felt this hopeless in quite some time. I am usually the even, unmoody one, so this buzzy/shaky thing I've had for a week is very unnerving. I'd had a psychiatrist's appt for today, but she called this morning saying she had a close family member die, so I didn't have that to fall back on. Thank goodness for my therapist.
I conveyed to her about the biofeedback PhD, someone we've talked about before as having little bedside manner. She was surprised at the conclusions she was drawing rather hastily and did not like that she tested me today while feeling ill with bronchitis. That would negate any parallels between the two testing sessions. We talked about a few other things as well related to biofeedback possibly causing bipolar to cycle, but neither of us feels like that is the case. I can't say that biofeedback caused these jitters. Also, the biofeedback PhD had overreacted to one report I'd given (you have to say how you've felt since the last session) and said I was depressed, when I was not. She compared me to the worm in horseradish who says the who world smells like horseradish; I think it is rash for her to come to that conclusion about me.
It has been a horrible week.
The ceremony was the highlight. Thank goodness for that.
Saturday evening was the lowlight when Luke and I joined others for a night out in another city. We shared a van, so I decided to party. Actually, I didn't want to go, because of my bronchitis, but he really wanted to. Imagine going in a van to another city and being under their timetable. During the evening, when I said, "You don't seem that into me," he said, "It's because I'm not. And we're not going to discuss it this evening." Hmmm, so I did a verbal summary, he said I got it right, so I said there was no reason for me to sit with him any longer. I have no clue was set off Mr. Corn-Cob-Up-The-Ass, but this crash and burn is a sure fired way to make sure it really is over. All I figure is that him being so sensitive and lacking a sense of humor and being very conscious of things being 'in public' that I inadvertently did something wrong. I don't need those egg shells.
So I drank more and danced and met this Sau.di guy who I bummed cigs off of. I was drunk and free, but not badly behaved, well, except for that once when I flashed why I got my beads. Everyone else was just as crazy, except Luke, who sat by himself.
Rather than take the van back, I stayed over with two guys who had a room. I slept with one, but that was all. He played with my hair. We three had a leisurely ride back on Sunday.
I am not interested in clearing up the Luke mystery. The guy lives with so many rules in his little world that I do not fit. Last week after his first therapy session, he finally admitted to being an addictive personality and it made things so clear to me.
Before the van left Saturday night, they asked if I needed anything. Someone is holding my coat for me and also told Luke to mail in my NetFlix for me. That's truly all I care about. Getting the three DVDs back in the mail, mostly because I know how difficult he makes something as simple as peeling of a sticky strip and putting something in a mailbox. He can be that hardheaded and uncooperative, acting helpless with something very simple just so he does not have to be responsible. He is an irksome little man.
He did call and leave me a message on Sunday. I've yet to listen to it. I hung up on the call by accident as I pulled the phone from my purse, then realized I was happy it had happened. I guess he's not that concerned about my well-being, as Mr. Pseudo-Knight hasn't called back or looked for my body in a ditch. He sure as hell let me down.
Crash and burn. My life story.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Not a shit or fuck to be had
I did it! And it's over, with me basking in the afterglow.
I didn't mess up and cuss one time. I guess Luke is having some success in that arena.
I was ready early with the set up, never nervous, just a little sweaty palms. I do wish people had RSVP'd; I had it set up for 60 and had to call the custodian to do more chairs. There were over 100 in attendance. It was an exaggeration in my last post - not quite 3000 medals and certificates. There were close to 100 each instead. When you consider the varieties involved with the medals (4 ribbon colors, 3 medal colors, 6 enamel disc types on the medals, and about a dozen different messages printed on the ribbons - with all of these variations all jumbled up mix and match, so very specific - oy!) and certificates, it taxed my little ADHD brain's ability for attention.
I remember once I gave a speech to a women's business club just over a decade ago - I was so nervous I had this quivery, squeaky voice eking out of my tight throat - quite lame and distracting, despite great content and a very good speech. That snafu was ever so present in my fears for yesterday.
Instead, I had bronchitis voice, which was kinda hearty yet squeaky and cute; I didn't cough and pointed out my bottle of liquid hand sanitizer and desire to not shake hands. My talk was well prepared, I was charming and witty, people laughed, it was loose and fun. It was the most entertaining awards ceremonies one could ask for. The time sped by and it lasted well under 90 minutes. Almost all the food was gone, too, so that was perfect as well.
During the ceremony, I wanted to showcase some form of the Arts, so part of the night was to show an amazingly complex five minute video put together (concept, script, scenes, fades, characters, stop action, props, music, etc) by a fifth grader from another school nearby. Luke actually served as a judge for her piece, because he worked in film production in the past. I am sure the audience kind of rolled their eyes at the thought of viewing it, figuring they'd patronizingly and politely clap at the end, but this girl's view of Dis.ney through dolls, toys, humor, piped in music and the voice talent singing songs, with a tight script, well, as I told her mom "Academy Awards!" Everyone laughed and enjoyed it and this little girl felt so celebrated. Her whole family was there; I think she has three older siblings who probably pick on her all the time. She's showing the world.
Luke, the over achiever, did a judge's statement, which wasn't necessary, but I had it to read to introduce the piece. At the end of the paragraph after I read it, I saw her mother clasp her hands together in delight. It was sweet.
Because nothing is really perfect, I did forget one boy's certificate and I really regret that. It was obvious how chagrined I was; I blamed it on the cold medicine and a rough week, which was not exaggerating. I had a few medals out of order, but that was easy to rectify; the principal was putting those on the kids as I handed out certificates. A couple people came up to me at the end about items that were missing, but I didn't receive them and I can't account for them. It is an imperfect system, turning in artwork at school. To those kids and parents alike, those will always be the fish that got away.
Ex was there; he'd thought he would be going out of town, but stayed back. I was glad, because I wanted someone for J to sit with - I had Luke waiting in the wings if need be. Ex helped a bit with the set up and it was good he occupied J beforehand and took him to dinner. I asked him to pick me up a hamburger, meaning $.75 at McD's, but he got me a bacon cheeseburger platter to go from the restaurant they ate at. Of course, there was no way I could get to that, but it was quite thoughtful. I had given him a hard time beforehand that I asked J to be the photographer, not him, because J takes better pictures. I was very surprised when ex took a picture of each kid on the stage. He did wonderfully, but I haven't looked at the pictures yet. heh
At the end, he came up to the front edge of the stage, smiling, and mouthed emphatically, "That was very good." I was glad for his input.
There were a few mistakes, but I got a whole lot more right than wrong and it felt very good. Who knows? I'll probably do it again next year.
I didn't mess up and cuss one time. I guess Luke is having some success in that arena.
I was ready early with the set up, never nervous, just a little sweaty palms. I do wish people had RSVP'd; I had it set up for 60 and had to call the custodian to do more chairs. There were over 100 in attendance. It was an exaggeration in my last post - not quite 3000 medals and certificates. There were close to 100 each instead. When you consider the varieties involved with the medals (4 ribbon colors, 3 medal colors, 6 enamel disc types on the medals, and about a dozen different messages printed on the ribbons - with all of these variations all jumbled up mix and match, so very specific - oy!) and certificates, it taxed my little ADHD brain's ability for attention.
I remember once I gave a speech to a women's business club just over a decade ago - I was so nervous I had this quivery, squeaky voice eking out of my tight throat - quite lame and distracting, despite great content and a very good speech. That snafu was ever so present in my fears for yesterday.
Instead, I had bronchitis voice, which was kinda hearty yet squeaky and cute; I didn't cough and pointed out my bottle of liquid hand sanitizer and desire to not shake hands. My talk was well prepared, I was charming and witty, people laughed, it was loose and fun. It was the most entertaining awards ceremonies one could ask for. The time sped by and it lasted well under 90 minutes. Almost all the food was gone, too, so that was perfect as well.
During the ceremony, I wanted to showcase some form of the Arts, so part of the night was to show an amazingly complex five minute video put together (concept, script, scenes, fades, characters, stop action, props, music, etc) by a fifth grader from another school nearby. Luke actually served as a judge for her piece, because he worked in film production in the past. I am sure the audience kind of rolled their eyes at the thought of viewing it, figuring they'd patronizingly and politely clap at the end, but this girl's view of Dis.ney through dolls, toys, humor, piped in music and the voice talent singing songs, with a tight script, well, as I told her mom "Academy Awards!" Everyone laughed and enjoyed it and this little girl felt so celebrated. Her whole family was there; I think she has three older siblings who probably pick on her all the time. She's showing the world.
Luke, the over achiever, did a judge's statement, which wasn't necessary, but I had it to read to introduce the piece. At the end of the paragraph after I read it, I saw her mother clasp her hands together in delight. It was sweet.
Outstanding use of story and cinematic arts. Direction of talent and use of props were only second to the demonstrated high quality and tightly timed video production skills. Great use of edits to control storyline development. Camera perspective and angle effectively moved among characters enhancing action sequences and participation of the audience. Original sound track and inventive use of sound and video effects make this production the best observed to date. Recommend this presentation be used a sample and standard for all future submittals in this category for this age group.What an endorsement. I think she'll win nationally. I asked them to let me know how far she goes.
Because nothing is really perfect, I did forget one boy's certificate and I really regret that. It was obvious how chagrined I was; I blamed it on the cold medicine and a rough week, which was not exaggerating. I had a few medals out of order, but that was easy to rectify; the principal was putting those on the kids as I handed out certificates. A couple people came up to me at the end about items that were missing, but I didn't receive them and I can't account for them. It is an imperfect system, turning in artwork at school. To those kids and parents alike, those will always be the fish that got away.
Ex was there; he'd thought he would be going out of town, but stayed back. I was glad, because I wanted someone for J to sit with - I had Luke waiting in the wings if need be. Ex helped a bit with the set up and it was good he occupied J beforehand and took him to dinner. I asked him to pick me up a hamburger, meaning $.75 at McD's, but he got me a bacon cheeseburger platter to go from the restaurant they ate at. Of course, there was no way I could get to that, but it was quite thoughtful. I had given him a hard time beforehand that I asked J to be the photographer, not him, because J takes better pictures. I was very surprised when ex took a picture of each kid on the stage. He did wonderfully, but I haven't looked at the pictures yet. heh
At the end, he came up to the front edge of the stage, smiling, and mouthed emphatically, "That was very good." I was glad for his input.
There were a few mistakes, but I got a whole lot more right than wrong and it felt very good. Who knows? I'll probably do it again next year.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Last call
Tonight's the big night. I host a ceremony at the school for principals, teachers, parents, and kids, the ceremony I had to cancel last month. I also have ordered/coordinated/printed about 3000 (more or less) certificates and medals, created a program, and scripted the entire evening.
I have bronchitis and bark like I have a two pack a day habit, but I sound much worse than I feel. Actually, I have been so loopy for days that I've floated along; it reminded me that I cannot tolerate anything OTC with a cough suppressant. After a week of cumulative effects, I took only a half dose today and I feel so much more focused and less jittery.
In the mean time, I hope I haven't made too many mistakes. This stuff is so delicate. I feel like I can charm my way.
The best thing is that I'm actually excited and happy. I put a lot into this and it'll show.
I have bronchitis and bark like I have a two pack a day habit, but I sound much worse than I feel. Actually, I have been so loopy for days that I've floated along; it reminded me that I cannot tolerate anything OTC with a cough suppressant. After a week of cumulative effects, I took only a half dose today and I feel so much more focused and less jittery.
In the mean time, I hope I haven't made too many mistakes. This stuff is so delicate. I feel like I can charm my way.
The best thing is that I'm actually excited and happy. I put a lot into this and it'll show.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Another fish tale
She's not a tiger and she is changing stripes. Apparently, female bettas compensate with wardrobe changes for what they lack in plumage.
When we got Janie, she had horizontal stripes and I think they were slimming on her axis. It's been less than two weeks since then. In the mean time, she would wear horizontal stripes during the day and vertical beginning in the evenings. I guess vertical is more formal attire.
The last few days, she's been vertical all the time, the sophisticate. She's also much darker, mostly a rich, sooty charcoal. Just to fool you, her blue comes out with the light and the flash, so it's not really accurate to how she usually looks.
Yes, I am a bit obsessed with our betta. No, I haven't a clue what any of this means.
When we got Janie, she had horizontal stripes and I think they were slimming on her axis. It's been less than two weeks since then. In the mean time, she would wear horizontal stripes during the day and vertical beginning in the evenings. I guess vertical is more formal attire.
The last few days, she's been vertical all the time, the sophisticate. She's also much darker, mostly a rich, sooty charcoal. Just to fool you, her blue comes out with the light and the flash, so it's not really accurate to how she usually looks.
Yes, I am a bit obsessed with our betta. No, I haven't a clue what any of this means.
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