Interpretation

So I have to tell you about the dream I had last night because I think it is directly related to my earlier ramblings about my inability to control my own mind.

The dream begins in a stone room. I am there with one other person and we are on a mission of some kind. As we are starting on the job a bad guy comes in. He's got this electric whip thing that delivers a nasty little shock. He corners us and then a small older woman comes in and takes the whip thing. She then concentrates on me. It turns out that if the whip is held against the body it delivers a sustained shock. This is painful and I start to cry out NO repeatedly while trying to push her away. I push her back long enough to get my hands around her throat and I squeeze. She starts to back away and then to choke. It's at this moment that I wake up.

Normally I am not too quick to interpret my dreams but this was different. I woke with a certainty that I was trying to kill that part of me that is giving me grief by making me relive a bad decision or by causing me to imagine the worst. They say you need to hit bottom before you can really change. Perhaps it is also true that your need must reach it's apex before you can change. And let me tell you, I have never had a greater need than I do now.
Sing it with me... ding dong the bitch is dead...

The Hardest Thing

I did a dumb-ass thing today and it was almost really bad. Not life and death bad but lost data bad. I scared both myself and another person who did not need the aggravation. It all turned out okay in the end, in fact several problems were solved and it may have saved the data in the long run but I am still having a hard time with it. I know there are people out there, you know who you are, who can shrug this kind of thing off. I cannot. I really hate making dumb mistakes, mistakes of any kind really, particularly when the mistake involves someone else. And yet, I always find myself taking on responsibilities that have the potential for mistakes. (It's a good thing I never wanted to be a doctor because heaven only knows how I'd cope with losing a life.) I simply cannot leave a thing alone if the thing doesn't make any sense. I make things my problem when they don't have to be. This is one of the reasons I have trouble working for other people. I hate seeing waste and disorganization. I tell myself "it's not my business" over and over and but I don't seem to be able to help myself. It's not all that altruistic either. I want to solve the problem, to be the one in control, the one who knows the answer. This makes it almost impossible for me to just have a job that doesn't follow me home in some way. If only I could figure out a way to let it go, to let go of the fear and the doubt and the self-recrimination. Nasty things. Of course the only answer to that is to just do it. Stop thinking about it, stop being concerned about what others think, stop seeking perfection. Easier said than done though. If any of you have a method for banishing nasty thoughts please share it. I'll take all the help I can get.

Wordless Wednesday

I can't take credit for this photo but it just seemed the right one to put up today.

I'd Like to Thank...

Lady Epiphany has nominated me as a Rockin' Girl Blogger. Pretty cool. I like to be thought of as Rockin'. Makes me want to go out and buy some new clothes to be Rockin' in.

Anyway, here are my five nominees, passin' it on.

1. The lovely Lisa over at Spawntimes. Lisa moved away from New York some years ago and I miss having her around. But at least I get to read her blog; I can really hear her in every line. Facing the dog puke and screaming with humor she always makes me laugh.

2. The Worsted Witch. Not only a knitter but a tree-hugging pinko liberal like me. She's got all sorts of good information on living well without leaving a big mess on the planet.

3. The Yarn Harlot. 'Nuf said.

4. Cheryl Porro over at the Cupcake Bakeshop. Cupcakes are her thing and she's happy to share all her experiments with us.

5. And last but certainly not least, Amelia Raitte. I always enjoy reading her blog and occasionally I poke my head up to insert a comment. I think I would like to have a cup of coffee with her and a nice long chat. She knits and creates and faces life with grace and humor.

So, there they are. Go visit them if you haven't before and tell them I said "hi".

Back to Work

It's been almost 10 days since I last posted. I didn't mean to leave it for so long but it has been a hard couple of weeks. Going back to work full time after 7 months is tough. The job itself is not really demanding but there has been a lot of information to absorb. I'm also finding that everyone here is too damn sweet. It's a little nauseating actually. I think that for the most part it is sincere but it's a bit much for someone whose age measured in cynicism is about 437. I'm also quite a bit older than the people I work beside at the reception desk. The teachers are my age and older but I don't spend much time with them. This is the first time I have really felt the gap. There's so many things they don't know. I'm also missing conversation with other foodies. There was an article the other day in the Times about Camembert cheese that I would loved to have discussed with someone but they would all have looked at me as if I were a little crazy.

Fortunately I am going to Lady Epiphany's for the 4th of July and I will be able to let the wise-ass remarks out. Not to mention drinking wine and eating lots of yummy meat off the grill.

It Does You Good to Laugh

My sister came for a visit this past weekend. I don't get to see her enough and this time was all too short. She has two kids and the older, J, is very difficult. We suspect he has Aspergers which means that he doesn't do well in social situations, like school, for example. My sister told me that they were considering sending him to boarding school. I don't know how this would go. Perhaps if it was the right place, designed to deal with children that really don't fit in. He is looking more and more like Harry Potter every day. Yesterday we got an email from my sister about her various trials and tribulations including a sick child. As it turns out, this was not the correct diagnosis. This morning we all got the following:

Dear Everyone,

Well, you really have to laugh sometimes:

J was suspended from school today. He got into a fist fight with some kid in the cafeteria. J told the Asst. Principal they were just joking around. The other kid said that J had come up to him and said "I don't want to see your miserable face ever again."

J came home (while I was getting W from school), ransacked the kitchen for junk food and brought it up to his room in case he got grounded. (Yes, we do feed him when he's grounded, just not junk food.) Then he got a bottle of ipecac to take some to make himself sick -- so that he could stay home from school, in case we didn't find out he was grounded. He claims he didn't actually take any, that he just happened to get sick coincidentally. . . .

We did not get the phone call about him being grounded until this morning.

I'm actually a little relieved. It means that instead of running up and down stairs with ibuprofen and throw up buckets, I can just ignore the fellow all day.

Meanwhile this morning, W and I were packing up all these cooking ingredients and tools because today in school his class is doing the "How To Cafe." It sounds like a disaster with twenty ten years olds demonstrating cooking techniques all day. I bet the school janitors are gonna love this one.

I sure am glad I'm on the happy pills now! All this seems kind of funny to me; whereas previously I would have been banging my head against the wall.

Yes, she is on medication. And she's not alone. Two of my cousins are also taking the happy pills. I find it a bit disturbing actually. I wonder how it will all turn out and if they will have to keep taking the pills forever. But as I don't have to deal with out of control children in addition to my own mood swings I cannot judge. When in doubt, have a good laugh.

Wordless Wednesday

Book Club

A few months ago, in an effort to get myself out of my house and speak to actual people I joined a book club through Meetup.com. It's been an interesting experience. Meetup is a good idea but it has some drawbacks. For example, only about half of the people who RSVP in the affirmative actually show up and most of those that do are late. Not really surprising for those of us used to dealing with people but annoying anyway. The host started the club not just to discuss books but to meet new people. In this she's been frustrated by the odd assortment that have been showing up. One woman in particular is very strange and we're not sure why she comes, she doesn't seem to enjoy herself at all. Another person sent the host an email to tell her that he was leaving the club because he was looking for a more intelligent and worldly group. I'm not sure if he is really looking for a literary criticism society or if he was put off by the fact that most of us disagreed with his views. Part of the problem may be the host. She is perfectly nice but getting a word in edgewise is almost impossible. She tends to go on and speaks faster than anybody else I know. You have to really want to state your opinion. This is not a problem for me (I heard that) but others might find it off-putting. Our next book is Virginia Woolf's "To the Lighthouse". I hope it's a bit more uplifting than the last few books. Anyone want to suggest a book for us?

Zoo

Yesterday my friend and I went to the Bronx Zoo. Wednesday is free day though they still make you get a ticket so they can get a count of visitors. I brought my camera with me but there weren't too many photo ops. Most of the animals were sacked out in the heat of the afternoon. Or else a hoard of children was in the way. Late May and June are field trip season here in New York and the zoo is a favorite spot. It made me think wistfully of the child catcher from the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang movie.

We did enjoy watching two male deer try to sling mud onto their backs with their antlers. Occasionally they would have a little sparring match when the older one thought the younger was getting a bit pushy. They also had fun with a large branch that was in the water, lifting it with their antlers and throwing it around. The does and fawns just hung out in the shade nibbling on cool grass. I suspect they were rolling their eyes a bit too.

One of our favorite places in the zoo is the butterfly tent. It's only open in the warm weather. It was surprisingly free of sticky ankle biters so I managed to get a few pictures in spite of the butterflies who were not too cooperative. Either they would not settle down or were shy and tried to hide behind the leaves. I needed a faster camera (Please note this fact for the Xmas season) but here are a few successful moments.

Happiness is rotting fruit.

Some of the butterflies had had a bad time and were a little ragged. But it didn't stop them from sucking up the nectar.

This one is iridescent blue on the top but he refused to leave his wings open for me.

The Monarch.

Wordless Wednesday

Memorial Day

Today is Memorial Day. Today many people will head out to the beach or the picnic ground. Others will surge into the local Everything-Mart to stock up on things they don't really need. That is the American Way isn't it? If it's a holiday there must be a way to make a buck out of it. But for too many this day is a bitter reminder of their loss. In 1868 General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, instituted Memorial Day. It was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. Since then a great many have fallen in the service of this nation. What makes the recent losses so bitter is that they were completely unnecessary. Those men and women in Iraq are not fighting in the service of the country, they are fighting in the service of greed, ignorance, and stupidity. This administration has betrayed their trust, and ours, and sent them to die needlessly. Rather than solving a problem we have destablized the entire region and now the insurgency is being exported to Iraq's neighbors. To paraphrase Shakespeare: But if the cause be not so good, the President himself has a heavy reckoning to make: when all those legs and arms and heads blown off in battle shall join together in the latter day and cry all-"We died at such a place". I hope they follow him and all his advisors in their dreams.

But none of this can diminish the sacrifice the fallen have made. Let us take some time today to remember them. And not just the 3400 service people but all those who have fallen in war. Iraq has an unprecented number of contractors working in it. They provide all sorts of services often with much less protection than the average military unit. More than 900 have died. And as usual there are the civilians. Ordinary people struggling to survive while living in Hell. An estimated 65,000 have lost the struggle. Let us have a moment of silence for them all and let us send out into the universe a fervent wish for peace.

Wordless Wednesday

Birthday

Yesterday I was at Lady Epiphany's for Lindsay's first birthday party. There was quite a crowd. We ate and drank and Alec grilled an enormous amount of meat. Good times. I brought the dessert. I made a cake and also some cupcakes since they were expecting 30 people. I did not want anyone to go without but in the end not everyone had dessert. (There were some odd people at this party.) Having a reputation to uphold, I did my best to make a good cake and I think it turned out well. It was a sponge cake with banana pudding filling and chocolate frosting. The cupcakes were also filled with pudding. I've never tried this before but I believe they were a success. Lars seemed particularly taken with the pudding. He ate the top off his cupcake and licked out all the pudding leaving a sad empty cupcake behind.

After all the crazy people (read relatives) were gone the rest of us sat around, did a little picking at food, and had a small betting pool on the Preakness. We did not manage to pick the winner. This may have been due to our post-prandial stupor obstructing our mental processes. (The lesson here is always go to the OTB with a clear head and an empty stomach.) We have left our bets in place and will roll them over into the Belmont.

All in all a good day, despite the slight drizzle and the aforementioned relatives. Lindsay crawled away with some nice new clothes and a soft book that has a fluffy chick on the cover. Hamburger buns, banana pudding, fluffy chicks and lots and lots of love. What more could you want for your first birthday?

Wordless Wednesday

Mother's Day

I hope all you moms out there had a very happy mother's day and that the wreckage from breakfast-making was cleared up before you had to see it.

I have many moms in my life these days. My cousins, my sister, my friends - all moms. My own mom died when I was seven years old. I don't remember her very well. Little snippets of time, images and ideas mostly. When you're little your parents aren't people, they're parents, kind of two-dimensional, like characters in a dime store novel. When you get older you get to know them better, see them as real people. I've always been a little sad that I didn't get to know my mom that way and to see some of myself in her. My sister says that our mom valued harmony between people. I got that from her. I think I would have liked her a lot.

After my mom died my sister and I went to live with my father's first cousin and her husband. (I usually call them my aunt and uncle because first cousin once removed is too much of a mouthful and usually requires a chart for people to understand.) We lucked out. They took us in as if that's what they'd been wanting their whole life even though they were about to get all of their own kids out of the house. One minute your youngest is going to college and the next you've got this eight year old leaving her toys around the house. But we never felt less than welcome and sometimes I think they would forget we weren't their own kids.

On mother's day I call my aunt. Though I have never thought of her as my mother she did the job and I will be forever grateful.

Why Commit?

Have you heard about Felxpetz? It's a dog rental company. I kid you not. You can rent a dog by the day. This is how it works, according to their site.

HOW DOES FLEXPETZ WORK?

We aim to keep the FLEXPETZ program simple so that our members and dogs can get as much time in together! Start by enrolling for your FLEXPETZ membership; once activated, your FLEXPETZ membership is ready to go and you can begin using our online reservation system.

Our online reservation system makes it easy to plan your "doggy time". Choose your location to view the dogs available on your chosen date(s). On the day, go and pick up your dog - or choose to use the FLEXPETZ shuttle service to deliver and/or collect you FLEXPETZ dog to/from your home or office.

FLEXPETZ provides our members with local access to a variety of dogs, all of whom are rescues or rehomed, lovable and fully trained. FLEXPETZ members can spend from just a few hours to a number of days with each of our dogs. FLEXPETZ dogs are available in varied breed sizes to ensure compatibility with our member's individual lifestyles and unique circumstances. Local drop-off and collection to your home or office is available in some locations.

And here’s another great FLEXPETZ feature: your FLEXPETZ membership is valid at any FLEXPETZ location. Just imagine visiting New York, Chicago, Paris or London and strolling through the city and parks with a FLEXPETZ dog!

This does not come cheap. You have to pay a registration fee of $150, a yearly fee of $99.95 and then a monthly fee of $39.95. You also pay per day of rental. $19.95 for a weekday and $29.95 on a weekend. If you keep your dog past the end of your reservation you pay a $75 late fee.

Is it just me or is it really odd? Kind of like a doggy escort service? It seems to me that the whole point of having a pet is that he or she becomes part of your life. Someone to welcome you when you come home, to leave hair on your favorite chair, to clean up the food your kids spill on the floor, to wake you with a sloppy kiss, and someone to hug when you've had a really crappy day.

Parents, I know what you're thinking. What about Flexkidz? Instead of committing to a lifelong relationship with some knee biter you could have just rented for the occasional day. But now that you have them you may as well get them to earn their keep. You might not be able to get quite as much for your kid as they do for a dog but every little bit counts.

Wordless Wednesday

Scary Scary World

I stole this from here. I had to. It's terrifying. I must pass it on.

Overheard in Brooklyn

A couple is on the train, filling out some kind of application.

Dude: Okay, what's it say here? Race? Why the fuck I gotta put down that I have a race? I'm not black.

Chick: That's just stupid. Why would they want you to put that?

Dude: Yeah! This is some stupid shit. They want me to put down that I'm black, and I'm not. What the fuck?

Chick: You know what? Leave it blank. And if they ask you, tell them that you don't have any race in you. They can't ask about that kind of shit anyway.

Reduction

Have you heard? Some conservatives are ready to embrace Darwin and his theory of evolution. Apparently natural selection and survival of the fittest provide support for various conservative policies including traditional roles for men and women, the free-market economy, and deregulation. In other words, if you're the strongest (or richest) you get to lead and if you fall behind the herd you are going to get eaten. It's quite possible that one could also use this argument in favor of the younger more fabulous second (or third) wife. Of course you could also use it to excuse scarfing down an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's: the body just naturally wants to add fat, just in case food becomes scarce.

Like many justifications these use only the points that suit them. It's true that in many parts of the animal world the males lead. But not everywhere. Elephants are matriarchal, lionesses do the hunting and we all know what happens to the male black widow spider. As for the traditional family, nature is full of rampant infanticide, polygamous relationships, and absentee fathers.

But this argument fits in perfectly with the recent trend of reductionism. Everything from disease to ethics to faith has been looked at from an evolutionary perspective. Is there a survival advantage to having a belief in deity? Or is it just a by product of some other successful mutation? We've also been reducing our own minds. Tests show that by the time your conscious mind has decided to move your arm your unconscious is already causing the needed brain cells to fire. In other words you are being controlled by your brain. Right. If my brain isn't me, who is it? Does my brain have a mind of its own? Is it in there now, plotting my overthrow?

I understand curiosity but I don't understand this need to reduce ourselves to electro-chemical reactions. Do we believe that it will make it easier to control ourselves? If we know what neurons are firing we can change behavior as well as avert disease? Can we get rid of crime with genetic engineering and some happy pills? I've always been an agnostic but I find myself agreeing with the religious set - some people are just evil and tinkering with the foundations of life is not going to change that. I don't know why one would want to see oneself as no more than a series of electro-chemical reactions but I prefer to believe that there is more to us than that, that we are more than just the sum of our parts.

Wordless Wednesday

Overheard...

In M&J Trimmings:

I just want to say to him, go suck some pork out of your teeth.

On Bleecker Street, a small blond boy to an even smaller blond boy:

Why do you always ruin everything?

Wordless Wednesday -Truffled Parmesan Cornbread

Fritz's Bread

I don't know if any of you read Rex Stout. He writes mystery stories featuring a detective named Nero Wolfe. Wolfe likes his home comfortable with an orchid greenhouse on the roof and a gourmet chef in the kitchen. The chef is named Fritz Brenner. His meals are the subject of many pages in the books. Stout got together with a food writer named Sheila Hibben to create a cookbook of dishes mentioned in the book. One of the entries is a bread recipe. It makes a very nice loaf of bread which is wonderful with butter, jam or in a sandwich. The recipe in the book is for two loaves. I used half the recipe but I think I should have used the whole thing. The loaf pan I have is larger than average (9x5) so my loaf is a little short (I used to have a smaller pan but it was lost). But still very tasty.

Fritz's Bread

2 cups milk
2 Tbs sugar
2 tsp salt
1 1/2 Tbs butter, softened
1 package instant yeast (2 1/4 tsp)
1/4 cup warm water
6 cups sifted all purpose flour

Heat the milk until scalded. When bubbles have formed around the edges take it off the heat and stir in the sugar, salt, and butter. Let this cool until it is just tepid (110 degrees or so). Dissolve the yeast in the water then add to the milk mixture. Stir this into the flour. If you are using a mixer with a dough hook start on low speed and increase to low medium to knead until smooth and elastic, about 5-7 minutes. If kneading by hand this will take about 10 minutes. Shape into a round and place into a lightly greased bowl turning it once so the top gets coated with oil. Cover and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours. Punch it down and let rise again for an hour. After second rise divide the dough in half and shape each piece into a rectangle and place in a greased loaf pan. Cover and allow to rise a third time until doubled in bulk, 1-1 1/2 hours (keeping the dough in a warm place will speed up the rising time). Preheat the oven to 400 degrees for at least 20 minutes. Just before baking brush top of the loaf with a little melted butter (I omitted this step so I got a crustier top). Bake for 40-45 minutes (less if in a bigger pan). If the top browns too quickly cover with aluminum foil.
Eat bread warm. Try not to devour the entire loaf at once.

More Eavesdropping in Union Square

I got a haircut today. For the past five years I've been getting it cut the same way, very short. I got bored with it and for the last 4 months I've been letting it grow out. I really wanted to let it get even longer but I just couldn't stand it any more. So I made an appointment at this salon near Union Square. I really like my usual stylist but I thought I should get a new view. The cut is pretty good. Nothing really radical, just some nice shaping. Most important, it doesn't take a lot of work. I'm willing to use product, even do a little blow drying but nothing complicated. I just don't have the patience.

While I was having my hair cut I listened to the conversation going on two chairs away. The man having his hair cut was a polar explorer. His job is going on arctic expeditions. His next one is going to last 4 months. His stylist had all sorts of questions for him which he answered cheerfully.

Only in New York City.

Overheard in Union Square

Woman in sweats to woman in chic outfit:

Hi! Look at you, so fancy!

I'm going to a funeral.

Oh. Sorry.

It's okay.

I'm really sorry.

Home Therapy

One of the blogs I read regularly is Apartment Therapy. They've been running a Smallest Coolest Apartment Contest. I've been looking at the entries to see if I can steal some ideas. Many of the apartments really are very cool. But I've been noticing that they all seem to have less stuff than I do. Specifically they have less kitchen stuff and fewer books. In fact, most of the apartments have hardly any books. I have about 500 and this is after some ruthless cutting and lots of self-control (thank goodness for the library). As for the dearth of kitchen stuff, that I am inferring from the amount of storage space seen. I have two rolling carts, four shelves, and one whole closet full of kitchen stuff. I've got pots and pans and dutch ovens, chocolate molds and cake stands, muffin tins, sheet pans, and cake pans... not to mention all the ceramics. It is probable that I am not utilizing my space to best advantage. I was having a little daydream the other day about a custom built desk and work area. And also about a custom built shelving unit that would hold not just my books but also the TV and the stereo. While I'm at it, I should get myself some nice custom built counter areas for the kitchen. I can see it all now, made of hardwoods, maple and perhaps some cherry. Gleaming stainless steel, marble, and butcher block tops, antique drawer pulls and lots of cubbies, a slide out ironing board and knit blocker, different counter heights for different jobs and adjustable shelves. Just thinking about it makes me feel beatific.

Anyone know a carpenter who'd be willing to work for food?

New Toy

I got a new printer today! And it is very cute. Not an adjective usually applied to a printer but this one is only 4.5"x6.5"x2" tall. It's a Canon Selphy CP400 photo printer. I have a Xerox color laser printer that is great for text and graphics but only so so for photos. A bonehead mistake I made left me with a store credit to J and R Computer world so I decided to spend it on a photo printer. The Selphy uses dye sublimation thermal transfer. It's a mouthful but it has advantages over inkjet. No nozzles to get clogged or ink cartridges that dry out. Love that. What it does is lay down one color at a time and then an overcoat which keeps the print smudge proof. In theory, the print will last 100 years. Not too bad.

I did a test print and it came out very nice. It's hard to tell in the photo above but it really looks like it was done in a lab, crisp and glossy. Now I just have to remember to take my camera when I go out so I have some great shots to print.

The Bogey Man

I've been watching Bowling for Columbine. I was not surprised that it was on tonight. Now I want to move to Canada or possibly Australia or the UK. The movie is just as relevant today as it was in 2002. Fear is still the favorite message here. It makes sense. Fearful people are easier to control. And, more importantly, they are ready to consume. We'll buy anything that will make us feel safe. Guns, diet pills, paper towels, anti-bacterial soap, home security systems, cars, retirement plans, credit monitoring, there are so many things you can sell by inspiring fear. There's a new ad in the subway these days advocating colonoscopy. It features the man who saved another on the subway tracks, it calls him the subway hero. The ad states that if you're over 50 you should get a colonoscopy and be a hero for your family.

Now, I've got some fears. They aren't based in reality but in a possible future that my mind conjures up. And at least one of them is the result of media and advertising. Specifically, I am worried about my financial future. We've been told we need a certain amount of money to survive our old age and we'd better start saving and investing now, right now. Don't wait, for goodness sake, or you'll be living in a cardboard box when you're 80. These fears are insidious, they can sneak up on you, enter you mind when you're not looking. The next thing you know you're wiping your apples with paper towels and getting your doctor to stick an endoscope in every orifice.

I've been doing my best to get rid of my fears. After all, I'm not afraid of bacteria or that I'll get blown up in the subway or that I'm certain to end up with colon cancer. So why should I be so fearful of destitution? Why I am I afraid that I won't find work that supports me both financially and otherwise? Why do I have to check the stove before I leave the apartment each day? Why do I think of the worst outcome to a situation and then prepare my response? Of course the real question is, how do I stop my mind from conjuring fear? Fear is a habit and habits are hard to change. I'm workin' on it. If only we could get the nation as a whole to work on it.

Warning: Non-sequitur

I went for a walk today in the park and now the cat is in love with my shoes. I wonder what I walked on. Some wild catnip?

Wordless Wednesday

A Moment of Silence

Can we have a moment of silence for the late great Kurt Vonnegut.
He died last night right here in Manhattan at the age of 84.

I've always thought of Kurt Vonnegut as a pessimist but in the New York Times obituary I discovered that he also valued kindness. To quote his character Mr. Rosewater in “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, or Pearls Before Swine,”

Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.’

May he rest in peace.

Wordless Wednesday

Free Stuff

Yesterday I went on a foray for cat food. I steeled myself and started at Trader Joe's. This is always a trial. I have never been there when it was comfortable. Possibly at the moment it opens or closes it might actually be a pleasant experience. Otherwise it's an exercise in patience and restraint. The urge to thin the crowd with a machete is strong. Don't get me wrong, I like Trader Joe's. They've got some good stuff there but the space is just too small. This is New York City for goodness sake. We need some wide aisles. On occasion I am willing to brave the melee to buy cat food and a few other things. But yesterday they had no cat food or dog food for that matter. I didn't discover this until I'd already shopped for some other things. I toyed briefly with the idea of buying them but as both lines snaked all the way to the other end of the store I just couldn't do it. I was a good girl and put all my items back where they belonged and then got the heck out of there.

I moved on to the Whole Foods. They've got crowds too but the store is big enough that I don't have the constant urge to run screaming into the night. I bought the cat food and some other stuff and went home. When I got here I put my groceries away, and discovered that I had some extra stuff. Some mesclun mix, a head of garlic, a package of tomatoes, some carrots, and a bar of soap. At first I thought that maybe someone had put them in my basket when I had left it on its own. But I didn't remember seeing them as I stood on line or on the screen as she was ringing. Then I checked my receipt. Not there, I hadn't paid for them. So they must have been in the bag already when the cashier put my items in. Nice for me but very sad for the person who actually bought the stuff. Since they were in the bag they must have been rung up already. What a bummer to get home and discover you were missing things, things you'd paid for. And what about the cashier? Did she really not notice them in the bag or did she have some sort of brain spasm to make her think she'd rung them up for me?

Make It Yourself

If you are a serious baker, known to be picky about your baked goods, many people will be loath to bake for you. They worry that you will be disappointed, that you would rather have something you made yourself or something made by a professional baker. They may or may not be right about this. The upshot of this is that if you want a cake on your birthday you have to make it yourself. I usually do buy myself a birthday present but I've never baked myself a cake. It doesn't seem right somehow.

My birthday is this Saturday. I am going out to dinner and I will eat some dessert made by a professional. If my friends manage to speak to the waitstaff on the side (they usually do and on one occasion got me involved in a questionable contest) there may even be a candle in this dessert. But I felt like some dessert today. In lieu of a whole cake I made some brownies using one of my favorite recipies. It's from the Califonia Culinary Academy book Cookies at the Academy.

3oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped
8 Tbs butter, cut into pieces
2 large eggs at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup walnuts coarsely chopped

As I said, I really like this recipe but I didn't have everything I needed so I made some changes. I did not want to open a new box of brown sugar so I used all granulated and I didn't have any walnuts. I also used cake flour instead of all purpose. This made the brownies very tender with a fine crumb. I have also been known to use only one egg. This results in a chewier browny. But I felt like cakey today so I used two. The lack of brown sugar also makes for a less chewy brownie.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
First, combine the butter and chocolate and melt them over hot water.


Once they have melted completely set the mixture aside to cool.
Grease and flour an 8x8 pan.
Combine flour, baking powder, and salt, stir to mix.
Combine the sugar and eggs and beat at high speed until thick.


Add the vanilla and the chocolate mixture then the flour mixture and beat until well combined.


Spread the batter in the prepared pan. On this occasion I used a pan I got at The Pit in the last Christmas grab bag. It has a pattern etched into it to make it stick resistant. I still needed to grease the pan but the first brownie (which sometimes gets mangled) came out just fine.
Be sure to get all the batter out of the mixing bowl. The bowl licking squad may try to prevent this. Try throwing the beater to distract them while you scrape out the bowl.


Bake for 2o-25 minutes until a toothpick comes out with a few crumbs clinging to it. Do not overbake. Let the pan cool on a rack for 10 minutes.


Cut the brownies and stand back. Since the cats were the only ones here I still have some brownies. I'm going to freeze some of them for future dessert need.

Wordless Wednesday #5 Chocolate, Sherbet & Banana Chip

Perspectives

Yesterday I listened to "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime" by Tom Haddon. I got the book on tape from the library. It was pretty good. The ending is predictable but that's okay. You'd be very upset if the book ended badly after all the hardships endured by the narrator. In case you don't know, the book is narrated by an autistic boy named Christopher. He sets out to find out who killed the neighbor's dog and the investigation sends him on an odyssey. He has what would be a very ordinary adventure for your average child but for him it is like climbing Mount Everest. The worst part is, of course, that no one he meets on this journey understands what is happening to him. They think he's crazy and walk away. Though this is what Christopher wants. His favorite dream involves him being one of the last people on earth and all the others that are left are like him so they stay away from him. And yet he does not want to live alone, without someone to care for him. He does get some help on his way but it is grudging and wary. I think that even now, in the information age, many people don't know anything about autism unless they know someone who is autistic. To further confuse the issue there are different kinds of autism and different levels of functioning.

I have also read "Animals in Translation" by Temple Grandin. She is a consultant to the meat and poultry industry; she helps them design their systems to minimize stress and fear in the livestock. She is also autistic, high functioning autistic. Her book prepared me for some of the things in "The Curious Incident" but it is still a compelling experience to see the world from a very different perspective. What must it be like to live without filters? Imagine walking into Times Square and seeing everything. And hearing everything. If you have not read "Animals in Translation" I highly recommend it. In both of these books you will find a whole other world.

Listening to the book made me think of my experience working with "special needs" children. When I was in high school I spent two years as a volunteer at a center for neurologically impaired children. The center had a range of children, some who were merely a bit hyper-active to those who could barely communicate. One of the boys was named Anthony. We volunteers were not privy to medical information but one of them told me she thought Anthony was autistic. I think she was right. His favorite color was blue and he wouldn't wear any other color. He had a blue cardigan sweater that he wore all the time, even in the summer sun. He said it protected him from aliens. He didn't like to be touched and often sat apart from the others. As an added bonus he was diabetic and you had to make sure he ate enough so he wouldn't slip into an insulin coma. We all carried candy in our pockets just in case. It happens so fast, the blood would drain from his face and he would start to sink to the floor. Then you would stuff some Lifesavers into him and hope you did it soon enough. His parents were really great. So very kind. They owned an Italian restaurant and they used to bring food to our parties. Baked ziti and lasagna. I think that they had to put Anthony in an institution. He was not high functioning and as he got older and bigger he was getting hard to handle.

The human mind is an amazing thing and I believe we can learn a lot about the world and ourselves if we listen to those who see things from a different perspective. We just have to be willing to open our own minds.

Screams in the Night

My downstairs neighbor has a stormy relationship with her boyfriend. Often, their arguments rise up through my floor. I usually can't distinguish actual words but it's obvious the conversation has degenerated into a fight. Sometimes I can hear her telling him to get out. There is also lots of door slamming. Last night they were having another fight. Then at about 11:30 she began screaming, not words, just screaming. I was already in bed and this jolted me up. I didn't know if she was being attacked or if she was just letting it all out. So I called 911. And waited. During the next fifteen minutes my neighbor ejected her boyfriend, did some loud crying and then apparently went to bed. The downstairs apartment was now silent. Fifteen minutes after that the cops called. I told them that the fuss was over but they said they would come and check anyway. Would I lookout and let them in? Sure, I said. Then I waited some more. Another 30 minutes in fact. Still no police. I called the precinct to tell them that I was going to bed and the officers should not come. The woman who answered the phone was very cheerful for someone on the graveyard shift in a police precinct. She told me not to worry about it. The call was probably unnecessary but I didn't want the phone ringing again just as I'd gotten to sleep. I suspect the cops got called to something more immediate like a robbery in progress and just forgot all about this little domestic disturbance. What I found more troubling was the long initial gap. In half an hour my neighbor could have been dead. I concluded later that no attack had taken place. She was able to kick him out without a problem. But it might just as easily been more serious. Perhaps if I'd been able to be more positive about her danger the cops might have come sooner. I hope so. I also wondered if I would have intervened if I 'd thought she was in real trouble. I like to think that I would have even though I was a little frightened. We have to take care of each other.

Wordless Wednesday #4

The Universe Provides

If you let it. Recently I have been paying more attention. Susun Weed and Dr. Northrup appeared to help me understand what was happening to me and this weekend my friend Bill came to visit. He has some issues similar to mine. Lack of satisfaction with his life, an inability to decide what to do, the feeling that he is behind somehow because he has not "accomplished" anything with his life. But his hole is much deeper than mine. His problems have been exacerbated by his second divorce which occurred three years ago. It caused him to retreat into his own head and he is only now thinking about coming out. Since his divorce he has turned to writing and has been trying to get published. So far he hasn't sold anything and this has been demoralizing.

I found as we walked around New York that I am feeling much more like myself. Like a Weeble I have bobbed back up. This morning we walked through the Heather Garden in Fort Tryon Park. The first crocuses of spring are up and I felt joy just to see them there, like hope rising out of the ground. But he seems to be incapable of this kind of feeling. Normally I love to show people New York City. They get excited by all the different things to see. And I get to see the city anew from someone else's perspective. This was not true this time. Though he commented on various things he seemed unmoved by the experience. I had trouble figuring out where to go and what to show him since he didn't have much interest in anything in particular. He did want to see Van Gogh's Starry Night but I think it was more to complete a set than to experience a work of art (he'd seen many other Van Gogh works at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam years ago but Starry Night was not there). I don't think he was affected by the painting. As I remember from college he was always self-absorbed but now he has truly closed himself off to world.

After three years he's finally hit bottom and is now trying to find his way out. This was really the purpose of this trip, to come and talk to someone new that he could trust. Apparently I fit the bill. We talked about his sense of failure and his dissatisfaction with his life. He's had much the same job history as myself. After the second divorce he moved back in with his parents (his ex-wife got the house) and started working with his dad who is a plumber. Now he has a place to live, few expenses, a good salary, and time to do his writing. But this is not enough. He doesn't have any sense of accomplishment and is envious of people who are successful. He seems to think that women in particular are successful and that they get things more easily. You can imagine what my response to that was.

I found myself talking about different kinds of success and about taking action, any kind of action, to break out of a self-destructive cycle. And discovered that I am really coming to believe it myself. Nothing like seeing your problems from the outside to gain perspective. Confidence is coming back, slowly, but it is coming back. I am coming out of the darkness. The deep despair is gone. It may well return at some point in the future but now I am better prepared. First time is usually hardest. And thank goodness. I really didn't like that person I'd become. It's good for you too, gentle reader, since you won't have to endure all that sadness.
My friend is on his way home now. I hope he starts moving. He's taken the first step. Now he must take another and another. Hard, cruel hard, but so very rewarding.

Wordless Wednesday #3

When It Rains, It Pours

My horoscope for this week by Rob Brezny:

Here you come dragging your exhausted but redeemed ass out of the deep dark forest of symbols. The red-eyed monkey demons fall off your back as you straggle toward the light. Your sunken eyes see wonders they were blind to before your ordeal. Your heart rages with a wild angelic love you've never tapped into before. And as you realize the magnitude of your tough miracle, you feel glimmers of gratitude for the rude tests you had to endure. Maybe you should get totally lost in limbo more often.

And just in time too. Last night I got a call from a friend I haven't spoken to in several months. She is not doing well. First, she's got some of my problems; worry over money, a feeling of listlessness and a lack of desire to do anything. She's a writer who has no will to write, a crafter with no will to create.

As if this were not enough she just learned that her parents are getting a divorce. After 30 years of marriage her father has had an affair.

My heart aches for all of them, especially for her mother. What must that be like, to face divorce after 30 years? She must be frightened of being alone, of dealing with all of her life. Her husband took care of all the financial things. Now she will have to learn. I feel for her father too. He may find that he's made a terrible mistake and that there is no way back.

My friend and her sisters are angry that their father has not tried to speak with them. I told her that I am not surprised. He feels guilty and he is afraid of what they will say. He has betrayed all of them. The worst thing is that now the past becomes tainted. They were a close family who went on vacations together, the parents still holding hands after 30 years of marriage. It all seemed wonderful and safe. Now it's all changed. The memories will be darkened by his act.

I was about 4 1/2 when my father had an affair. He too was weak and sat on the fence for a while, wanting to have his cake and eat it too, afraid to take the leap. My mother finally told him that he must choose and so he went. He stayed with that woman and they've been together for more than 30 years now. She is better suited to him than my mother was. But that does not justify his behavior. He should have made a clean break even though he was afraid and didn't know if the relationship with this new person would last.

As I was very small I didn't get the full story. But my 13 year old sister did. I think my mother was like me, she didn't have a very close best friend that she could talk to so she dumped a lot on my sister. I understand why, but it was unfortunate. My sister has never reconciled with our father and that is a shame. Not for his sake but for hers. One day time will run out. And it is easy to judge from a distance. We cannot know for sure what we would do in a similar situation. We may like to think we would act well, ending the first relationship before pursuing the next. But we don't really know. We are only human after all.

I told my friend about my father and my sister. I hope that she and her sisters will be able to forgive their father. It's important to be able to let it go. Otherwise it festers in your mind and it affects other relationships. But it's so hard to forgive when you hurt so much. I find it hardest of all to forgive myself for mistakes and bad judgements. And that is the most necessary thing of all, to forgive oneself.

Wordless Wednesday #2

Toilet Seat

I've been wanting to replace my toilet seat for some time. It's definitely seen better days. But My bathroom is an odd shade of pink. The chances of finding a matching seat are pretty slim. So I decided I should get something whimsical. A couple of years ago I found some clear resin seats that were pretty cool but they were only available in the UK. They were kind of expensive and the shipping was really steep. After a while I forgot about it then today something made me think of it again. It seems the market has really opened up. Target has some, Kohler has some, and ebay has 12 pages of toilet seats. Here are some of my favorites.

First we have simple, yet elegant.



Then we have girly.



A seat for the marine enthusiast.



Or the nature lover.



Or the Wild West type.



Or the urban sophisticate.




Or for the zen bathroom.



And for the archaeologist we have the Egyptian God of Eternity



So many choices. It makes it very hard to decide. What do you think?

Dream 1

I used to keep a dream journal. Writing down your dreams helps you remember them. I'm going to start that journal again and this is the first entry.

The dream begins in the middle of a battle of some kind but it's a quiet moment. In fact the battle never gets loud or chaotic. I am with several people, not people I know in real life. The enemy has 10 operatives that we are trying to find and eliminate. We've been doing pretty well and only number 1 is left. I am out on the battlements (we are in a fortress of some kind) and I decide to call out to the enemy troops, call out for Number 1. I am surprised when he answers. We talk for a moment and then I hurry off to find our leader and tell him I know where Number 1 is. I do, and then a woman and I rush back to the center of the fortress. I'm going to be late you see, I am playing Hamlet in the theater. I arrive breathless at the theater and despite my best efforts I am late, the curtain has gone up. In my haste I manage to spill both the coffee and the wine that I am carrying. I go to the backstage area and look for somewhere to rinse my stained clothing. I find an open room with a sink. As I rinse I ask the man who is there for a script. I don't know when I'm supposed to go on. When is Hamlet's first entrance? He tells me it's a 1 minute 35 seconds in. I tell him that I've never actually had a chance to play the part, what with the battle and all. But I do not actually seem that concerned about it, nor does he. I run out and for some reason out of the theater. I'm on a crowded street and as I realize I have left the theater, I ask myself, "Where are you going?" then I turn back. It seems a long way but then I see the marquee. I am almost there. At this point I think I become a bit aware of the fact that I am dreaming. I wonder, don't they have understudies for this kind of situation? Then I wake up.

Wordless Wednesday

It's That Time

The last few months my mind has been in turmoil. The last several weeks have been the worst. I hardly recognize myself and often feel as if someone else is looking out of my eyes. I've been asking myself what is the cause? Is it the risk I took starting the business? Is it self-recrimination? We often have questions and if we are willing to listen the universe may send us an answer.

I have been thinking of moving to a rural place. One of the places I have considered is Woodstock, NY. It's only 2 1/2 hours from New York City and has a pretty lefty, crunchy population. Last Wednesday I was thinking about it and Susun Weed popped into my head. She is an herbalist who has an apprenticeship program for would-be herbalists. I knew that she lived in Upstate New York but not exactly where. So I went to her website and she lives in Saugerties which is a little township a few miles from Woodstock. She's lived there since 1962. I also discovered that Susun was speaking at The META Center here in the city on March 1, the very next day. I dithered about it until the next day and then I went.

She's a very dynamic speaker and she is passionate about her subject. At the end of the talk she was going to answer questions and in order to prevent any embarrassment she had us write our questions down on a card. I wrote: "My digestion has always been very good and then in the last 5 months it has gone haywire." I went on to describe my symptoms. When she got to my card she read the first sentence and said, "Well, here's a woman entering menopause." That brought me up short. I know that our hormones can start fluctuating in our thirties, but menopause?

Then last night I watched a talk by Christiane Northrup. She was addressing the audience on the subject of women in midlife. The second section of her talk was about perimenopause. It's kind of like PMS, the part that happens before. Some women have a short transition. It's over in a few months. But this transition can last for as long as 15 years until your menses stop completely. I went online and googled perimenopause. Several sites had a list of common symptoms.

sleep disruption
digestive irregularity
joint aches
fluctuating menses
short term memory lapses
trouble maintaining focus
mood swings
depression
anxiety
fatigue

Right. So there we are folks. It seems I'm not crazy. I'm just perimenopausal. There are a couple of ways to deal with this. I could get upset about it and run around trying to find ways to supress my symptoms. Or I could embrace it. Dr. Northrup talked about this second option and it seems like the way to go.

I started taking birth control pills about 8 years ago. It was such a relief. My periods had been irregular and painful and now they were as regular as a clock and I had no pain at all. I did gain some weight and my blood pressure went up a bit but that was all to the good as it had been very low before. Then a couple of years ago I switched pills and took more of them so I only had 4 periods a year. I did have some concerns about taking so many hormones but it was soooo convenient.

Now I think I need to get off. Maybe not for good. Maybe I can go back just with a different pill that has a different hormone mix. But I have to figure out where my hormones are now. They have obviously changed and the pill is not going to stop the change. The pill worked for me because it provided what I was missing. Now that the mix has changed the pill may be making things worse. At least as far as my emotional state and my stomach are concerned.

Today I feel better than I have in weeks and better still now that I know I haven't lost my mind. Now I have to listen to my body and do my best to give it what it needs. This includes letting go of the past and honoring myself. It's also a time to let go of expectations.

We must be willing to let go of the life we had planned in order to come in to the life that's waiting for us.
Joseph Campbell

Daylight Saving Time

It seems I've been living under a rock. I had no idea that daylight saving time is happening 3 weeks earlier this year. We spring forward this coming Sunday, March 11 rather than on April 1. I also have to remember to change all the items that normally change themselves like my computer and DVD player. Apple has a patch up on their site but I don't think it's really worth it. I have to change all the ordinary clocks in the house anyway. But what a pain in the tukas for business! So much stuff runs automatically now and is time sensitive. This issue is being called a mini Y2K. Hopefully it will turn out as well and not make everybody too crazy.

Lucky to be in New York

As a self-employed soul in this country I am responsible for providing my own health insurance. Here in New York State the choices are limited and this has made it difficult. But it could be worse. In the New York Times today there is an article about health insurance or lack there of, in the middle class. The woman profiled in the article is a freelance real estate agent living in North Carolina. At the beginning of 2006 she lost her COBRA health insurance. She was unable to renew that insurance because she had had surgery for breast cancer in 2005. When she tried to get new health insurance she was turned away by just about everyone and those that did not turn her away wanted to charge her $2300 a month with a $5000 deductible per year. She rations her medication and puts off going to the doctor in case he does something expensive. She has even put off getting married because health providers have been known to go after a spouse's assets to recover their fees.

At this point I had to acknowledge that New York State is a very good place to be. The reason our insurance choices are so limited is because of the strict laws imposed on insurance companies. You cannot be refused coverage regardless of your health and you cannot be charged more than anyone else. They can decline to cover a preexisting condition but only for one year. It would still be hard for this woman but only for one year. She does make enough that she could afford pretty decent coverage especially if she joined up with the Freelancers Union.

Members of the middle class have rapidly been joining the ranks of the uninsured. Many companies are hiring more independent contractors and part timers in order to avoid providing coverage. Many people now work for themselves or for small businesses that cannot afford to offer health insurance. If you've ever tried to get coverage on your own you know that costs are high and getting higher. Health care has become a vital topic in the 2008 presidential campaign and has spawned a variety of ads on television sponsored by groups like AARP.
Health care has become a consumer product driven by market forces. We need to reclaim it as a force for good rather than profit. Polls show that most people are still resistant to government sponsored health care. It's true, our government doesn't have a good track record with benefit programs and it would be a logistical nightmare but wouldn't it be worth it? Instead of spending 10 action packed minutes with your doctor you might be able to spend long enough that he or she could get to know you. If profit was not an issue we could concentrate on preventive medicine, learn to maintain health rather than cure illness. A number of clinics specializing in the treatment of diabetes have closed recently due to not being financially viable. In other words, they don't do lots of expensive tests or use enough expensive drugs. Our very lives are at stake but we do not want to give up our consumer control. As the numbers of uninsured grow we are becoming a voice too loud to ignore. Maybe we can find some middle ground before it is too late for too many of us.

Relationships

This past week has been tumultuous, and that is putting it mildly. I am in real crisis for the first time in my life and I'm having to learn how to deal with it. My mind crashed and I can't just reboot it. Yesterday I was sitting out on the street watching people go by and I had the strangest sensation that it wasn't me looking out. At least not the me that I'm used to. To add to the storm I managed to have a terrible email conversation with my friends. Email is not the best place for pouring out your turmoil. It creates this odd and disjointed picture and you are missing facial expressions and tone of voice. But as awful as it turned out it did serve a purpose. It let the darkness out and now I have to learn to love having it out.

All of this got me to thinking about relationships, specifically the ones I have. I realized that my relationship with my friends is much the same as my relationship with my family. I love my family, they are all pretty great. I don't see them that often, mostly at holidays, but when we do get together we have a good time. But we don't really talk about anything more than skin deep. When my sister had a crisis of her own recently it was very difficult for her and her family. It took her a long time to reveal her troubles to us and when she did it was in an email that sounded almost casual. When she and I talked about it on the phone that too was almost casual. It was not an intimate conversation. And I understood perfectly. It's just what I would have done. Keep it light. If you keep it light that means it isn't as terrible as it seems and you won't be quite so vulnerable.

This is how I have always liked my relationships. At a slight distance. Makes me feel safer. This is the relationship I have with all my friends. Casual, relaxed, calm. And about as deep as a puddle. That's the rub. Without depth there is no where to go. I haven't had a best friend in a long time, not since high school. This is the price you pay for invulnerability. Or at least perceived invulnerability, for the real truth is that when you keep all that turmoil inside, you become vulnerable. It's like a building succumbing to dry-rot. It may look solid on the outside but don't slam a door to hard or it will just cave in.

I can't change my behavior over night. It will be a work in progress. I also have to get more friends, ones who share interests that I don't share with my current group. And I need to see them more regularly, face to face. Email is very convenient but it does not support intimacy. The hardest thing will be to open myself up, let the fears and the weaknesses show. I know that I did not feel any differently about my sister once I knew she was in trouble. On the contrary, I wanted to know more about her life and how she feels. But it's hard to change patterns of thought that have been around for more than 30 years. For example, yesterday, after all the emailing was over, I thought, how can I get back to the way it was? I can't of course nor should I want to. It may be awkward at first but in the long run it will be better.

I've always been ready to help my family and friends in any way they might need. Now I must learn to ask for help when I need it. But I also must be ready to stand firm when it comes to what I want to do. One of the other reasons that I don't share is that I don't want people trying to talk me into or out of things. I will accept suggestions and advice but I may not act on them. I don't watch Dr. Phil really but one day I happened to see a few minutes of his show and I had to agree with what he was saying. The gist is, people can to say whatever they want to you, you can't stop them. But you can choose not to react to what they say. Ooooh that's tough. I've got my father's genes after all, debating is in my blood. It's very hard for me not to defend my position. And I like to win, to be right. And this is okay when dealing with superficial stuff, e.g. politics. But when it gets closer to home I lose my perspective and it ceases to be a debate and becomes an argument. This happened the other night when I spoke to a friend of mine on the phone. Before we spoke I'd been feeling better. I'd made some decisions and was feeling much more positive. Then this phone call, that started out well, turned into an argument. Not an acrimonious one but I let myself get on the defensive. And at the end of the call I felt battered, filled with doubt again. But it was my own fault. I should not have allowed it to turn into a match over who was right. Because of course that's not the point. I should have stated my objective and my reasons. Then I should have listened to my friend's objections. Once he was done I should have said, okay, I will consider what you've said, thank you. And that would have been that. Instead I let myself get worked up into this storm of emotions over what wasn't even a proper debate. Once more with feeling: They can say what they want but you don't have to react to it. If I can remember that then I don't have to be afraid to tell the truth. I can make a statement and walk away even if the other person thinks I'm wrong. I don't have to prove that I'm right to anyone. And maybe I'm not. Maybe I will fall flat on my face. But I've done that now. And it turns out, despite the storm and the pain, that I'm okay. I have more work to do before I feel well again but I have made the first move. It's that first fall that's so hard. The later ones aren't so bad because you know that the pain doesn't last forever. And in spite of my cynicism and my tendency to imagine the worst, deep down I am really an optimist. I believe it will all turn out all right. This part of me gets suppressed sometimes by bleak thoughts but it doesn't last. My father says that when I was a child I was very cheerful and I think I really am still. It is glorious just to be alive. That is the part if me I need to nurture. These last two or three years the self-recriminating part has gained supremacy. I became consumed with the idea that I had not done enough in my life, that I had failed to live up to my potential. There's the inner guidance counselor talking. What I should have done at this point was to do more for my soul, my spirit. Instead of complaining about The Pit I should have gone out and done some volunteer work and gotten involved in some spiritual work. Gotten some perspective. Instead I let the toxic atmosphere poison me.
It may be that like many hard times it will turn out that this crisis was just what I needed. Many recovering addicts say you have to hit bottom before you can make a real change. Maybe that's true no matter what your self-destructive vice of choice might be.