It's late, it's cold, there's snow on the ground...

And your resident blogger has...nothing!

I've actually been living life instead of writing about it, and that is NOT to say one supercedes the other, I could not would not live if I could not write, but at the end of the day, I am tired.

And at the beginning of the day, I have to wash my hair first, because with the new 'do I can't put it up and not blow dry it. (Yes, pictures, soon.)

I went to a gathering thingy with some OD folks tonight and it was hard--I'm so used to not being out in the evening that when folks who genuinely cared asked me how I was, I wanted to break down and cry for the tenderness in their voices. Once we sat down and could talk intellectually, I could say brilliant things and it was much better. (Yes, she's humble, too.)

I had breakfast at Panera with Elle. Elle and I became friends, I calculated it, almost 15 years ago. We were in Mary Kay--she still is. And she is one of those friends that can speak truth into my life. I sat there and wept a little. So yes, today was a day punctuated by tears in the morning and the evening. She just listened as I told her that I just don't understand.

As I drove home this evening from the gathering, I went into that little place one must really never go, the place of "what ifs." Maybe if I had done something different, I would be coming home to a phone call instead of what I consider the longest silent treatment. No, my brain somehow hasn't fully processed the concept of "break-up." I keep thinking I'll walk in the front door and this will be the day that he'll sing that Billy Joel song, "I don't want to be alone anymore."

What fools we humans are. Remind me to get a copy of "It's called a break-up because it's broken" (which I "read" this spring BEFORE Max and I were a couple--it was an audio book.)

It's 10:30. If I want to get up and do some paperwork before work tomorrow (read: pay bills), I'd better go off to bed. No M*A*S*H re-runs for me tonight.

Tomorrow is the beginning of the Bellefield Women's Gathering, which will be a lot of socializing, dessert and games. Saturday is the continuation, speakers and sessions. Sunday is BJ's ordination. So I need my sleep, and I need to find out from someone how we're figuring that parking will work for tomorrow...

Color me pink, in my nighty, under the covers, sleeping. But oh, that blanket of snow, how it makes everything seem a little nicer. I do love snow. Oh, I do.

G'nite, sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.
If they do, hit them with a shoe!

Oh, and the Dillons have illustrated a lovely Mother Goose counting book. How I love the Dillons.

G'nite....

Can I have a glass of water?

Sleep tight.

There might be monsters under the bed!

Don't let the bed bugs bite...

Bed bugs??

If they do...

IF?

Hit them with a shoe.

So I have to take shoes to bed?

Mommy!!!

May your sleep be restful and may you awake to a geography covered in white or green, whichever you prefer or is appropriate for your time zone.

Off to bed, Sarah Louise. You have a big day tomorrow.

Oh, alright. G'nite, everyone!

It's a whole new world...(thoughts on this electronic life)

(if you get this via your RSS, the one change was to add a label, "this electronic life")

Blogger's note: If parentheses drive you mad, avoid this post.

So, the Internet. It's like, how many years old now? (I'm expecting a text message from Al Gore with the exact figure any minute now.) Or, I could look it up on Google, Wikipedia, or Blackle. Ah, here it is, Ye Olde Wayback Machine (aka the Internet Archive).

I joined Facebook this fall and it was like whoosh! (I didn't understand when they asked "Do you want us to send an invitation to everyone in your Yahoo address book" because they didn't ask it that clearly, so I had instant online community.) Everyone, apparently, was on Facebook. (I had 60 friends in the first couple of days.) Not just Heidi, my (at the time) boyfriend, and my sister, who had all encouraged me to join. Soon I was playing Scrabulous (FB's version of Scrabble, I love it), answering quizzes on the Princess Bride and Disney Villians, super-poking people, being super-poked, (actually, I was super-poked before I did any super-poking, and most of it is between me and my sister) and receiving neat "virtual" gifts. My favorite virtual gift to give and get is the "water globe." I've played and have stopped playing (sorry Sandy!) the Oregon Trail game, the Compare your friends game (sorry Carlos!), and have changed my profile's setup numerous times. Oh, and I love "collecting" art. I have my own "virtual" gallery, with Van Gogh, Hopper, Cassat...why don't I have any Monet? I must get some Monet!

It was a pretty easy decision to be myself, not Sarah Louise, on Facebook, since the point of Facebook is to get in touch with everyone you ever knew, and I've only been SL for 3 years and I've been keeping a fairly low profile...although I do think it would be fun to make a profile for myself as SL...but that's a whole other post. (I have this theory about having too many online personas. It makes me think of hoarcruxes.*) But a little quick math:

• I participate in two of my own blogs as Sarah Louise
• I co-participate in another blog (with a different online persona--but I'm thinking to "come out" as me on that one as it is a local blog, and you know, it's easier to get to know your neighbors if they know who you are.)
• I have blogged as myself for a professional conference
• On Library Thing, I am Sarah Louise. On Shelfari and Facebook, I am myself, well, I mean I use my real name.

Back to Facebook for a minute: it is bizarre to every once and a while get a "notification" that so-and-so is my friend. When did I invite them? Oh, they must have been in my email and just now got around to deciding that they wanted my cute picture on their profile. I have reunited myself with friends from high school (well, one--and rejected a guy who I never really knew in HS--it was just um, weird.). I have reunited myself with the first Sally (if you haven't figured it out by now, Sally is code name for my actual given name, and I have had best friends named *wink, nudge, nudge* "Sally" four times in my life. I also work with two women named Sally directly and indirectly with one more in the same building.) But how did I get off on that tangent?

Last week, I decided that enough was enough, I wanted to learn how to use del.icio.us. It's another one of your online social networks. Um, it's soooo easy. As a way to save links. The social part of it, not so much. You have a network. And fans. Well, that sounded fun... So I didn't have a network, AND I WANTED ONE, since del doesn't have a "here are all your friends with del, hit yes to send them an invite to be your friend" function. So I found someone, I can't remember how, and put her in my network. She seemed to have similar interests, was clearly also a librarian. Wow, the next day, she was a "fan" and had put me in her network. But something happened! because when I logged in today, we were no longer reciprocally (is that a word?) in each other's networks, and she wasn't my "fan" anymore. The rejection!! And I have never even met this person. Luckily, Katy came by and we're in each other's networks, are each other's fans. But the sting was almost as bad as when I got cut from a fellow blogger's blogroll, inexplicably. (And I don't know how to bring it up in conversation. Um, I noticed I'm no longer on your blogroll but we're still friends. Care to elaborate?) (I've since decided it's not that big of an issue, but it did have me wrinkling my brow for awhile.)

THEN, last week, I found out that Marian (the Librarian) has a blog! What??!! "Well, I only write about library stuff, nothing personal." So, you thought I wouldn't be interested because I'm a librarian too? (Yes, I got over being twisted in my knickers about that one real quick too.) (If you thought online social rules were bizarre, try being friends with people face to face who keep anonymous blogs...) (It takes one to know one.)

The online social rules are not as clear cut as the off-line ones. It's not, hey, how are you, let's get to know each other, let's do lunch, let's call each other, n'stuff. It's I link to you and maybe you link to me and then all my friends may or may not follow and before you (or I) know it, you're getting comments from people you never heard of or never wanted to hear from again. (My blog went black, I actually took it down, for three days when an ex found it and commented. Hello, anonymous blog, don't you think you could email me instead?) (See what I mean about weird rules?) (Because I think I would have been just as weirded out by an email.) (I got rid of him through great advice from a friend. I later used this great advice to peacefully but in clear and no uncertain terms terminate the friendship with THAT friend when my friends and family were concerned that I was spending too much time text-messaging with a married man.) (Whom I had met, innocently, online, through comments on my blog.)

Recently, I've noticed I can't log into my blog at work. I can comment, but that's it. And I don't really want to ask the question, um, I can't get into my blog?? because I don't generally blog about work related things and then oh, icky.

See what I mean? So I think I'll "unfriend" the person I found on del, because it's just, well, strange, and I have no way of knowing if I did something and anyways she seems too into antiques...

I think I'll go check my laundry. And watch more M*A*S*H.

By the way, I thought Northanger Abbey was quite nice. Masterpiece Classics (when did they stop being Masterpiece Theatre?) has redeemed themselves nicely, I'll keep watching.

________
*a hoarcrux is a division of your soul--it's a Harry Potter thing. Unfortunately, there is not quick and dirty link to a wikipedia page on "a hoarcrux is x."

Seven words. Contests are fun. Go enter!

Your timing: until 6pm tonight, a contest.

Well blogger: can you distill advice concisely?

It's a contest to see who can write in 2-3-2 format, the pithiest advice. You win a bag n'at. These were my entries:

escapism has its merits, pay bills too.
grow something: green, crying, or bank account.
Dad said it first (but not in 7 words): "Outflow exceed income? Upkeep equals economic downfall."

I wasn't able to get the 2-3-2 down though.

There are over 832 so far, though the drinking red wine and living your dreams probably won't win as so many folks wrote about that. Maybe after I've eaten something I'll share my favorites, though I only read up to 166 and then skipped down to #800--I can't imagine judging this contest!

I've spent an hour with the New York Times and de.licio.us. It's time to eat something and get on with the day.

So this isn't much of a post, because my brain is glutted but my stomach is starving. And now there is a barking dog.

More later.

Well, one more thing. If you have a de.licio.us page, let me know. Here's mine. This is much more fun than Facebook--it's a librarian's/information junkie's playground. Wait till I show my dad. (the man, my dear dad, who, if he needed a second career, would be the best reference librarian you met, specializing in searching online newspapers.)

Off to feed my stomach.

I'm still here...

So I went and got my hair cut. If I can remember to change the batteries in my camera and get it to work with my computer, I'll post a picture. (I wouldn't hold your breath.) It's bob-length and very nice.

I also called the Auto Critic guy. This is a guy who only does diagnostics. So he will tell me the absolute truth about what is or isn't wrong with my car. So I can sleep at night (less than 11 hours please, and fewer nightmares...)

I finished Season One of M*A*S*H. I've started into Season Two. So if blogging is slow, you'll know where I am.

Tomorrow I'm going to see 27 Dresses.

That's enough for now. Pierce and Trapper are waiting.

Why I have nothing for you this noon...

Life...is biggger, bigger than you and you are not me...that's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight, losing my religion...*

But hey, it's snowing, so it can't be all bad. I'm off to see what NH Sally got me while she was in Florida!!



________
*REM

Why I have nothing for you this morning...

I spent all my good words commenting over at Eliza Jane's blog...

and I'm off to get ready for my first full day of work this week. (I went in for three hours yesterday b/c otherwise L would have been the only one in our dept.)

Peace out, dudes.

This side of Eve* in the CD player, and all is (as well as it can be) well with the world...

I smell the toast, hold that thought. Yes, we're still eating toast. (And drinking Gatorade.) But so far, the main symptoms are gone.

It would take too long to explain how I got to this poem today. But it fits. It's in Yeat's "Words for music perhaps," which are 25 poems focusing on Crazy Jane. (I gleaned this from the link.) A scrap of the poem was in a book I was reading yesterday that had taken the scrap and a bit more from Madeleine L'Engle's book, Two-Part Invention.

Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop

I met the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now,
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.’

‘Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul,’ I cried.
‘My friends are gone, but that’s a truth
Nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness
And in the heart’s pride.

‘A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.

I love that bit. Love has pitched his mansion in the place of excrement. Love, not flowers or candy on Valentine's, but Love that holds the bucket while you wretch.

*This Side of Eve: John and Alyssa's band. I think I'm actually playing their first album. The link talks about their second album.

Off to find more Gatorade...

Where did the term sicker than a dog come from?

Oh Internets, it is freezing in my apartment.

Let me put it to you this way. Freezing=cold toilet seat.

But my body decided, at 7 am, that there was a colonoscopy it thought it had to prepare for. Hence, by 8 am, my toilet seat was warm.

(Sorry if that's TMI, it's the most delicate way I can think to phrase it.) And I've had a colonoscopy, a few years ago, so I know from whence I speak.

Yesterday was a day so full, too full, and my body gave me a nudge and said, "Nope, you are sitting this day out." So I did go to my therapist, buy Gatorade and a loaf of bread. I ate a piece and 1/4 a piece of toast for lunch and 2 pieces of toast for dinner. And I spent the better part of the afternoon watching Tape 1, Season 1, of M*A*S*H.

Oh, and the door lock works! It's a Honda trick that a friend at church told me about. Woo hoo! You have to hold the door thingy inside the door while pushing the lock down. Oh, it is like magic. AND by some miracle, there is now a light tinkling noise when I leave my lights on. It's like fairy music.

Oh, Bucket List is a great film. Not the pizazz that Juno was, but great. The acting shone (I love the elder Jack Nicholson) and you can never have enough Morgan Freeman. Plus, the trivia I learned! (Freeman's character was a Jeopardy fanatic, constantly reading.) The story is predictable (they die, I hope you saw that coming) but there are little surprises along the way, so that even when you feel your heart strings might be getting tugged "Hollywood style," you don't mind so much.

If only I could say such charitable things about last night's Masterpiece Theatre. They did Persuasion, only my favorite Jane Austen book and while some of their choices were good, the overall perfomance, tied into a wretched package, was HORRIBLE. And the end was SO Hollywood. Jane Austen's own ending was just fine, did not need embellishment. The earlier BBC version (which I own) is only a half hour longer but hundreds of times better. It was like a train wreck, though. I couldn't not stop watching it to the bitter end. It was...words fail me. I will not deign a link to the PBS site, and wonder if I'll watch other ones in the series...

To think I could have been watching the Golden Globes! (Even without writers or actors, I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more...) Oh, alright, we'll stop beating the dead horse.

Anyways, be in good health. And if you liked last night's MT, don't let me know. Read the book. It is so much better. Or watch the older BBC version which is readily available. Trust me. And if you read this blog to a regular degree, you'll remember that I can generally find SOMETHING good in the movie version of a book. I generally enjoy seeing the choices that directors and screenwriters make. So for me to completely lambast a movie version is about as rare as a unicorn.

Ah me! Another Gatorade almost finished. I must climb the stairs to do some laundry or I'll have naught to wear tomorrow. And I did mention that it is cold??

A few thoughts on depression...

I am cleaning out my files, so as that I don't save stuff I don't need/want when I back up my files when I change over to XP.

Found this, an outline for a Bible study on Depression. Thought it would be appropriate for this venue.

Used passages from Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning and Chasing Grace by Martha Manning and no, they are not related at least that I know.

Intro

Being a depressed person stinks. Being Christian and depressed stinks too. Everyone assumes your depression is just unresolved sin; something that prayer will heal, so you just must not be spiritual enough.

Depression: dullness or inactivity; dejection; sadness; gloom

What I’ve learned is that when I hurt, I go to people that have known hurt. Christ is one, and so are the collection of friends I have in print and in person. So I’d like to introduce you to a few of these. I’m including distressed people in my definition for the purpose of this study.

I’ve also made up a list of “Things to do for your depressed friend,” which are things we’d automatically do for a friend with a broken arm or a new baby.

1. Give tangible gifts. I am very visual. If I have something (a bracelet, earrings) that a friend has given me, I can remember the love that friend has for me even when they are not physically with me.

2. Take them out to eat or bring food. We are always doing this for people who have been in the hospital or who just had a baby. Depressed people have no energy to cook and often subsist on junk food or fast food, which really doesn’t help the situation.

3. Tell them you love them. Tell them great things about them. Tell them a story. Whatever you do, UNLESS ASKED, do not give advice. This is fatal. This makes you sound like an expert and them feel like a dunce.

4. Akin to 3., don’t ask them if they’ve tried x, unless it’s ice cream and you’ve got some to share. This puts you in a one-up position and if they have tried it and failed, they feel stupid. If they haven’t, they feel stupid that they haven’t tried it. If I call my friend and say gee, my piecrust was rotten, UNLESS I ASK, I am looking for that other person to say gee, that stinks, I’m sorry, can I help, NOT have you tried the great recipe? Because what if the great recipe is what I used? Then I feel like a total loser twice.

Ten Distressed Bible Characters

1. Elijah “[C]ame an sat down under a broom tree; and he asked that he might die, saying “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am no better than my fathers.” 1 Kings 19:4

2. Jonah “…. and he asked that he might die, and said, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’” Jonah 4: 10

3. Naomi “I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty.” Ruth 1:20

4. David “I am gone, like a shadow at evening; I am shaken off like a locust.” Psalm 109:23

5. Christ “³⁷Jesus took along Peter and the two brothers, James and John. ^[4] He was very sad and troubled, ³⁸and he said to them, "I am so sad that I feel as if I am dying. Stay here and keep awake with me." ³⁹Jesus walked on a little way. Then he knelt with his face to the ground and prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, don't make me suffer by having me drink from this cup. ^[5] But do what you want, and not what I want." ^{Matthew 26: 37-39}

6. The Israelites “Would that we had died by the hand of the God in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate bread to the full; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill the whole assembly with hunger.” Exodus 16:3

7. Jeremiah “my soul is bereft of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is.” Lamentations 3:17

8. Job “And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me. The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.” Job 30:16-17

9. Paul “I asked God three times to take away this thorn.” 2 Corinthians 12:8

10. Solomon “All things are weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. What has been is what will be and what has been done is what will be done; and there is nothing new under the sun.” Ecc. 1:9

In sales, sales associates are taught the FFF system of handling objections. “I know how you feel, I felt the same way, this is what I found,” and then sharing how x product helped with the objection. But what if you’ve never felt depressed? The worst thing can be saying Oh yeah I know how you feel when the distressed party knows you haven’t or don’t know.

Readings from books:

Psalm 55: ends in peace.

2 readings from Chasing Grace by Martha Manning, p. 97 sufffering; p. 99 shorten the road.

Other Psalms: 6, 13, 22:1-2, 14-15; 23, 31, 40, 41, 55, 59, 64, 69, 88, 109, 118:13-14 (whole story)

I may come back and flesh this out, but for now, I thought it was a good start. I used this outline for a study in 2002? with a small group I attended at the time.

It's morning here (Nanci Griffith)

I have been sending a lot of posts to draft, just because I'll write and then get weepy about Max and not want to publish that to the entire Internet. This next bit is lifted from the post I wrote when I sat down here, at about 9 am.

Sorry, you're going to have to rely on the fact that this is typed as quickly as possible so I can run off to get breakfast and go to church. (Yes, Kelly pointed out that right now it might be okay for me to go both to Bellefield and OD for the mere STRUCTURE while I'm depressed and the fact that for me, going to Bellefield is like going home.)

And, if I'm going to church, I might as well go to Sunday school, it's about the Bible. (Well, um, I guess that would be self-evident, but this one is like how to read the Bible, oh never mind.)

I had a dream that I was at a party with my former Mary Kay director and her latest star, who had a 2 Billion dollar year. In my dream, I thought, I'll quit my job, get a 9-5, do MK evenings and weekends until I can support myself. Earlier on in a different dream (I slept 11 hours, I had a monton of dreams.) I had asked my boss if I could join a play, be the wizardess and she said, no. Something about how I was better suited to working with the children. And frankly, part of why I wanted to be in the play was because there would be men in the play--in our building that employs over 86 people, 5 are men. 1 is a librarian, 1 is the main accountant/head of admin, and one is the PR guy. Two are maintenance. Oh sorry, I forgot the two shelvers. But they are admittedly BOYS, and there is a difference.

So I woke up from my dream thinking about Special Libraries, and how I had in Chicago (two years ago, when I was young and impetuous) at the ALA convention decided that this "public library" life was not for me, that I'd rather a special library (which are like museum libraries, law libraries, etc.) Now that I'm a bit older, I've changed my mind. I need lots of people. And the thing about being a librarian in a building where everyone else is something else (like a museum, or a school, or a law firm) is that you are isolated. (As opposed to being a librarian where a few other people are librarians.) GAH! That would be horrible. The thing I like most of all about my job is talking to co-workers about work related things. (Okay, one of the things.) Marian the Librarian is my life-line, I adore the committee I'm on for the Summer Reading Club (with librarians from other libraries). So even though it sounds uber cool to be a librarian for a special collection of children's books, I think I would not like the isolation.

Gah, look at the time. I'll be showering before OD, I think not before Bellefield. I was VERY late last week to Sunday School, so I don't know why I care that I'm sort of on time today. Maybe it's a new leaf thing.**

This next bit is new:

I bought a new Bible yesterday from Badger's abusive boyfriend. (Half Price Books.) (As I link that up, I think, isn't that a great sentence? Like yeah, her lug of a boyfriend was selling lime green bibles, and well, I bought one...) It was really ugly, with this stupid coin-purse thing stitched to the front, but it was the only one I really liked, and I figured it would look okay if I unstitched the coinpurse. Which it does, except that you can tell something WAS stitched.

When I lost my car, I lost three Bibles (yes, why did I keep three Bibles in my car? I don't know, I knew where they were. My car has always been an extension of my living room.) A regular Bible, which has been replaced by this one I just got, (except that that one was PINK), a tiny blue King James, and a Study Bible. When we cleared out my car the night of the accident, Sally (NH) didn't realize this might be the last time I'd be in my car (because I didn't tell her) and I had the front seat, she had the back, and she didn't grab the Bibles. She grabbed the library books, and I'm grateful she was able to be there with me as I waited for the tow truck, so it's not hard feelings, but sad. It's okay to be sad about three Bibles, I know that. But I guess I have to unravel the "why didn't she read my mind" and "why didn't she grab them" and "why didn't I go back for them, they were a mile away from me the whole time we were waiting for my car to be determinded total loss" from "it's okay to be sad."

Oh, I need Mr. Rogers. If he were still around, I'd write to him and ask him to do a series for adults like the books for kids, "Going to the hospital," and "Divorce." I'd ask him to write a book about "Mourning the loss of your really pretty car in an accident and then because you're broke, buying one that is almost old enough to smoke a cigarette legally and isn't as pretty and has been a regular pain in the neck."

I do like having a cassette player--I miss not being able to play CDs, but as libraries catch up, there are a lot of audiobooks that probably will never be available on CD. Like High Fidelity. Which I need to return to the car. I probably should go online and see if I can find my own copy.*

Okay, now I'm going to be late for Sunday School. So now I can try to find some clothes that match and find some breakfast (maybe drive thru?) (No, I really want take-out from Tazza...) (I hate that I now have a car payment.) (But it's not a HUGE one.)

Gah, I don't want "it's not a huge one" to be the last sentence of this post. Here's another thing I've realized. I'm not the blogger I once was. I used to spend hours reading everyone else's blog and commenting. Now I'll read Babelbabe, Daysgoby, and some others. (I don't even read Badger every day--but I go there at least once a week, hon, I promise!! And, I linked to you!) I don't even read Blackbird, hardly, or LC, or Caro. And I know once I start working on my novella again (before the end of January...I better start!!) I will probably be reading and commenting even less. Part of it is that a lot of Blogger functions are now blocked at my workplace, which in the end is a good thing, because I don't really blog about being a librarian very much. Part of it is that I've been sleeping eleven hours a night! And part of it (oh the truth hurts) is that it's HARD to keep up online relationships. It just is. Email is pretty one dimensional.

But I still love you guys, or I wouldn't publish, they'd all go to draft.

Oh, I don't want that to be the last sentence either.

Oh, here's a quote from my desk, from Maya Angelou. It's how I feel about blogging and my novella: "There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you."

Mwah! Off to my day. (Did I mention I'm going to see Bucket List? I'll let you know if it's as good as it looks.)

________________________
*asterisk? There was no asterisk!
**new leaf, old leaf, I'm going to be late.

...and now you know the rest of the story (Paul Harvey)

So I went to work. I worked from 3:30 to 9 with dinner from 6:15-7:45. J. Clarks, my default dinner place, is busy these days and I had to wait 20 minutes for a table!!

Work was work. But it was good to see J, who worked tonight instead of last night in Tech Serv, because her hubby went on a business trip. We commisserated.

Bonus, I had to get gas for Lucy and was dreading my neighborhood station, but it was actually the cheapest price.

untitled

the depression is like a cold blanket.

lucky me, I don't get suicidal.

But I have not gone into work yet today. Maybe lunch will help.

Send hugs.

back in the saddle, as it were...

Yes, Lucy* looks beautiful. And I'm getting used to her braking (after a week of getting used to the rental Nissan's braking...) I now must use a key to lock her, but being able to use the door at all is a miracle.

Now, on to the next, which may involve proving that unlike the CarFax history, this car WAS in an accident (previous to the dent on my passenger door). The guy at the auto body shop said that my door (the passenger door) had been painted once before, which to me is a red flag. And I don't know much about cars, but I've been told, gosh, it must have been in an accident for that part on the power lock to break.

I don't know. What I don't want is a drawn out legal battle. But $500 (four hundred twenty eight and change to be exact) is rent money. Or something. It's 10% of what I paid for the car, including the warranty which didn't cover the power lock. I don't qualify for the lemon law until I have three things go wrong, but I want a lawyer or something!!

Anyways...I am exhausted, it is raining, and I am going to bed. Since this was my first night back with Lucy, I'm very grateful that it is rain and not snow.

G'nite.

_______________
*my 1990 Honda Accord

Square peg--round--ughngh!! hole

Yep, it's not as if I hadn't realized this at other junctures in my life, but allow me to elaborate:

• I am 36. Most other people I know my age are: married, homeowners, and with children, one or more. I am single, renting, and thankfully, (see first two points) childless.
  
• I go to a church where most people are 26, married, homeowners and/or parents.
• I work in a building where most women are 40+, homeowners, and grandmothers. Oh, and they all live 5 minutes from the building.
  

(I'm using all and most a bit too generously, but this is my anonymous blog, I can be black and white for once.)

• Oh, lots of other stuff.
  

Just came back from appointment with psychiatrist. This is our typical appointment: "Well, I see no reason to change anything, do you need any refills, come back in [time period contingent on how depressed I seem at time of visit]." I ADORE my psychiatrist, but he's a psychiatrist and therefore not helpful on the soft side of things--he's good at dispensing drugs, not advice. Which is fine. But I hate the fact that I'm close enough to the edge that I'm going back at the end of this month instead of mid-next month. But I'm grateful that he cares enough to know that I need to come sooner. ARGH!!

But good news, I have been funded to go to Minneapolis for the Public Library Association Conference. And probably Marian the Librarian and I will be roomies!!

So I think I can put aside fantasies of taking people's temperatures. I told Marian about my aspirations to becoming a nurse and she said, "two words: sponge bath." I told her if I was supporting an artistic husband, it might become an option again, but for now, I think I can live on what I make and ENJOY what I do. (Not that I don't think I'd enjoy being a nurse, I just think I'd enjoy staying a librarian for now.)

Okay, gotta go. Off to coffee with a friend.

In which I don't write anything because I need my walk!!

Nothing to see here, nothing to see...

In which I find myself commenting all over the place...

This morning, I have travelled to Chicago (Hi Poppy!) and Oz (Hi Suse) and Canada (Hi Jess).

I left long comments, and so my brain has nothing left for writing here.

Let's see: I went to TJ Maxx last night b/c I was waiting for the 6:55 movie...I got really cute Sketcher shoes and a brown turtleneck.* Which it is too warm to wear today, I think.

checking the temperature...58 degrees.

I may get my car back today. (One does not like to hear the word "snafu" from the auto body guy, but he wouldn't give more details.) After which, I'll start trying to recruit someone to go with me to the dealership to say, um, well, I don't know what I'll say. But something akin to it sucks that this major part broke on my car two days after I bought it and the warranty you sold me doesn't cover that part.

Okay, I'd better shower and get ready for Women's Bible Study. We're studying Colossians. No Beth Moore? Oh, alright, I'll go anyways...

________________
*My aunt gave me some money for Christmas. I couldn't see explaining to her that I spent it on two seasons of Sex and the City. So a turtleneck and cute shoes--that's pretty good for twenty bucks!!

movie quote here

Must see movie: Juno (you must, I just did.)

things that make me happy: my Joy bracelet, which seriously needs restrung. (Yes, I know that sentence needs a "to be," I'm from Pixburgh, get over it.

Items procurred at GE:
Amy's bowls pesto tortellini
Amy's wraps spinach and feta
Funny birthday card for co-worker
Seasons 4&5 of SATC on DVD (Iggle Video is going out of business. Sandy, if you see seasons 2, 3, or 6, I'll pay you back!)

I am a mess. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Because I'm realizing that everyone else is a mess too.

Sat next to a cute guy at church (or he sat in my seat while I was looking for water, causing me to lose my bulliten.) But his name is way too long (he was filling in the address info on his brand new journal during the time the guy from Scripture Union was talking.) And I had to say hi, my name is Sarah Louise when the service was over, he gave me his name (I'm not telling you, c'mon.) but that was it. I think he's probably younger (well, aren't all the guys in Pittsburgh?) I could have had my lunch paid for at Panera by my dear friend M, but I was too quick. Oh well. She's a dear heart, a octogenarian widow who I often have lunch with after I go to Bellefield for church.

My dad called this afternoon, just to chat, before I went off to the movie. What a great guy. He just wanted to see how I was and then talk my ear off, because, well, yesterday when I called my mom, I told her how bad the depression had gotten. Today I have felt just blank, and the sobbing in the bathroom stall at the movies was yes, for me, but it was started by the ending of the movie (which was beautiful, but you know girls, they cry at beautiful stuff too.)

So my eggplant something that I got in the organic frozen foods at GE is ready and I just heard Mr. First Floor come in. I'll eat my dinner and off to church.

While I may not be the brightest bulb in the galaxy, I have figured out that me trying to psychoanylze him isn't going to make him come back and say, hey, that "liability" thing I said, forget about it, I want you back. So it's okay for me to watch movies and read books where people have happy romantic endings, but I don't think this is one of them. If I didn't have to go eat something, I'd pull up a perfect Nick Hornby quote for that from Jess in A long way down. Maybe next time.

Til then, keep your stick on the ice.

A fairly pedestrian post...but that's not a bad thing...

Textbook: depression is the worst in the morning. If you can make it to 1pm, your chances of survival are much much better. (Or so says my first psychiatrist, and I have found it mostly to be true.)

Things that made today liveable:

• started working on article about Mother/Child Smackdown program that I did last summer.
• chatted a bit with both bosses.
• went out for lunch, didn't have to pay
• went out for dinner (same restaurant, same waitress), didn't have to pay. (I KNOW!)
• I'm home at long last. I may just pass out on the sofa. Or read. It's too late to pay bills--if I think about money this late in the evening, there's no chance I'll sleep well.
  

Tomorrow: Sunday School at Bellefield. It's the first Sunday, so I'll give it a shot. Something about reading your Bible for all it's worth. I'll probably stay for church. I need to be around people--being alone is sometimes good when depressed, but I need people!!

The nursing bit is out for jury. I do love my job, today was a day when I really realized that. And worse (better?) I love my workplace. Better, because so few have that privelege, but worse, b/c if I stay here, I will not amass riches. Not that riches are the point, but...

Anyways, rambling n'at. Thank you for reading and/or commenting. Any suggestions for the 37 things will be taken into consideration. (See Erin's 40 things, here.)

a dyslexic walks into a bra

Internets, I again wake up way too late to shower and get to work on time. I don't want to go. (Although, granted, once I got there, yesterday was an okay day.) I think it's that I need a push out the door.

I am convinced (in a fantasy, googling information stage) that changing careers now would be a good thing--they need nurses, and nurses make more money. I got the paycheck with this year's increase and I have realized (again, for the umpteenth time) I will never be rich if I stay at my current job. I don't want to be rich, but comfortable, that might be nice. Having the say so that I can pay for a conference if the library won't. Oh, but I guess I wouldn't be going to conferences for librarians if I was a nurse. Crap. Why didn't I meet and marry a computer nerd in my twenties? (Oh, have I just dug a hole in which you dear reader will make me pay for in the comment box? I'll beg depression as an excuse...)

I finally told my mother that fixing my door would cost close to $500. That smells she says. (What?) "That sucks," she rewords, "and I never say that word." (It's true.) I'm not sure if I know a lawyer, but I want to. (The warranty that I bought won't cover this repair.) (The door broke two days after I bought the car.)

My first floor neighbor has returned. (the rest of this paragraph has been moved to an unpublished location for containing thoughts that belong in my journal.)

I'm going to be late. Now tell me why, in the fall, when taking a shower wasn't going to shock my system, I regularly while depressed didn't take one, but now, when I can tell it's REALLY cold outside, I insist on one, which will make me later?

I have started reading Praise Habit by David Crowder and let me tell you--he rocks. This could be the best Christian non-fiction I've read in AGES. He's so normal. (Whereas I'm still at the point where talking about my faith/writing about my faith sounds like sci-fi.)

Oh, and I gobbled Meg Cabot's Big Boned last night in one fell swoop. I couldn't have savored it over a few days? No, I had to read the whole thing. Crap. Now I just have books that other people have said are good. Do I really have to go to work?

And I want to GET THERE--it's the day of all my favorite co-workers. I just called and N, who is the sweetest lady I know answered, said, "Get here when you can" which I know if I was a nurse would probably never be the case.

Can I do a do-over? Seriously, can my alarm go off at 7:30 and I actually get up and take the shower I so badly desire but can't move off this chair to even get the warm water started?

GAH! This post may self destruct in eight hours, as you may have noticed quite a few of my posts lately have been doing.

"way leads to way"*

I was going to title this with one of the "man walks into a bar" jokes: "A dylsexic walks into a bra" but the title I chose seems more apt.

Anyways.

Have you ever realized that your Google searches say more about you than you would ever admit aloud? So the reason why I found this new favorite website will remain known to me only (I was trying to figure out a big word someone was using...) but wow.

I also like the fact that he quotes Frost later (though not too much later): "l shall be telling this with a sigh.."

I'm at one of those places of the cross--choices and corners to turn. I look up to the top of my screen and I see the "help" link and know that it won't really be of help.

I do not want to go to work today. I'm going to be later than I told my boss when I called her to say I'd be late.

Another Nick Hornby quote? "Depression is great. You can do whatever you want." (As he leaves the bar after hearing Marie La Salle and decides to not stay to have drinks.)

Ugh. But the later I am, the later I'll come home. It's Friday again. Whateve.

____________
*Robert Frost

Happy Birthday Bird!

Today is my sister's 26th birthday. WOW. Hippo birdie two ewe...

In which I find myself watching the Fiesta Bowl instead of Seinfeld...

So, I had no idea that WVU lost their coach...I don't really follow college football. But after Two and a half men was over, all of a sudden, I was brought straight into the middle of a college football drama...

My cousin went to WVU. Her ex-husband went there, and my other cousin's husband did too. It's almost a West Virginia joke.

So yesterday the Penguins played the Sabres in Buffalo and WON! I fell asleep on the sofa during the game, thus catching up on lost sleep from the previous night.

No, this has not become a sports blog while you were sleeping (or while I was) but hey.

Oh, and last night I watched Happy Gilmore (about a failed hockey player who turns into a pro golfer).

That's it. I don't have any more sports to report.

I took a lot of books out today, though:

• Praise Habit by David Crowder (Finding God in Sunsets and Sushi) I like David Crowder sort of (he's a musician) and this looked interesting. I found it on a friend's Library Thing account.
• Three Weddings and a Giggle by Liz Curtis Higgs, Carolyn Zane, and Karen Ball. I read this like two years ago, the first time I worked an election. I dig funny smart Christian romances, and I re-read books. (This is three novellas bound in one binding.)
  
• Mixed Signals by Liz Curtis Higgs. It was right NEXT to TWAAG. One is good, two is better.
• Bookends by LCH. Third is the golden princess.
  

(All these were picked up on the way home at a nearby library that has a librarian that buys a lot of good Christian fiction.) (Which my library does NOT.) (Also, the Christian fiction titles have blue labels, such that I can browse the shelves and quickly find something.)

Also:

• What they found: love on 145th st by Walter Dean Myers. Our children's district librarian's blog-->link to reviews-->our great YA collection. I haven't read any WDM in a long time.
• First Daughter by Mitali Perkins. When my Yahoo address book was imported to Facebook, sort of unbeknownst to me (I didn't realize it would take ALL of my addresses), Mitali's address was in there. I've never read one of her books, but she wrote an article that I commented on, and so her email address was in my address book. Hence, we are Facebook friends and I feel like I need to have read at least one of her books...

Hey, I may even come back and write reviews...

Meanwhile, I'm slouching towards upgrading my computer to Windows XP from Me and one of my bosses just gave me an old laptop that has Windows 98.

I'm sorry, it would take me forever to link up all the books listed. Go use Google.

Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons is singing the U.S. National Anthem. Anyone know why it was "God Bless America" and not "The Star Spangled Banner" after "Oh Canada" before the hockey game yesterday?

And now it's decision time...watch college football or read? I think I'll throw a load of laundry first.

If I drank, this might be what a hangover feels like...

Ugh. Because I was awoken from semi-deep sleep by NH Sally (see below), went to a NYE party, came home, wrote an insightful blog post, read, tried to sleep, failed, ate something (I know, but I was hungry!!), journaled, tried reading library journals as a sleep aid (bad idea--I'm too passionate about my career choice and I found an article co-authored by my new favorite librarian, David Lee King), finally gave up and made up the sofa as a bed, and put on Lady Jane. (Yes, I put movies in the VCR as a way to get myself to sleep...you must be new here.) I tucked in at about 5 a.m. and opened my eyes around 9 a.m. How I wish I could sleep late!!

BUT, there is amazing news here. I'm not manic. (As a bipolar woman, this is great news.) If I was manic, not having sleep would mean that I'd wake up and today would be a blur. I would feel like I no longer needed sleep...but I just pray and hope I can somehow fit a nap into today...maybe I'll sleep through some of the Rose (yawn) Parade. (Because I want to be awake for the Pens game...) (Although I wish that I had someone to watch it with...)

***a reality check--the fact that I'm blogging with ease does make me worry a little about the manic thing could get ahead of me, but I am going to do as much as possible to make today as normal as New Years Day can be, um.***

Then, upon waking, having a little breakfast, watching a little Today show, I of course logged on. A comment already on last night's post! From the lovely and ever talented Erin. And I have been online since then, through Ellen and now the Rose Parade. And I have been mostly been looking at the groups David is in. And by following link to link, I found a blog that I really want to share with you, NA Humble Orthodoxy. This PDF article about "are you thinking about leaving your church?" convicted me. (Nuff said.)

Btw, the Rose Parade is pretty good this year. And the puns are flying...But I really do need a bit of a nap...

Okay, time to stop writing and start a bit of a lie-down. More water...

Changing arts...from losing to longing. Happy 2008!

This was the night that would have passed me by had Sally not been persistant in calling me (twice on my cell and once on my land line) to get me to go to a "Bellefield folks" NYE party. At around 7:30 pm I turned off the TV and closed my eyes. My alarm was set for 7:45 pm and I slept past it. As I use my cell phone as my alarm, I ignored Sally's two cell calls as I brushed them off as my alarm. "Just one more minute..."

She had an ulterior motive--I had purchased a Canasta game for her at Target and she was dying to play, as she'll be going to Florida in a week or so where she'll be up against family (sisters?). But I am grateful that at 11:06 pm she finally decided to call my land line and I sleepily answered. So I did not miss the ushering in of the new year.

It's 2 a.m. now, and I'm pretty awake, due to the fact that I slept from 7:30 to 11 pm and then just a half hour ago took the meds I generally take at 10:30 pm. So I'll write for a bit. It's lovely knowing that I have nowhere I need to be tomorrow. I may stop by and visit my friend PJ, who mentioned in her Christmas letter that she missed me "stopping by." (She's from the Midwest, where people do that all the time. I'm not from the Midwest, but I love the idea of stopping by, and she and her family are the only ones I would just stop by in on, except for of course, Sally's family.)

I had lunch at Sally's--leftover rotisserie chicken, veggies, and mac n'cheese. We had little Dove chocolates for dessert and her wrapper said on the inside "Always ask if it comes in chocolate." Mine was forgettable, hence, I have forgotten it.

I had a lovely chat with the host of the party, Bob, who has been hosting this party for over twenty years. His daughter is teaching in Guatemala right now, and since I have done some traveling in Guatemala from the years I lived in Honduras, we had places in common to talk about. He's not been to Europe, but I regaled him with tales of Vienna Summer School and Warsaw and Prague. We talked about learning languages...in short, it was one of the kinds of conversations I love having at parties. I have to remember that the town J. is living in is Chichicastenego, to tell my mother tomorrow. I didn't have a chance to talk to J. at all, but we hugged as I left the party around 1:15 am and I said, "see you this summer." For me it is strange that the young women that are now my peers at the OD are the grown up girls that were in high school ten years ago. I played Canasta with Sally, her daughter, and K. I will always remember a particular corner in my neighborhood as the corner where I ran into K. while she was waiting for the school bus for high school and I was taking an early morning walk.

It is a privelege to have fine friends. It truly is. I hope this year will be a deepening of friendships, as I decide where to be intentional.

***********

The title of this post comes from a post that Heidi posted (yesterday! because it's Tuesday now!). She posted it from a post that Kate DiCamillo (author of Because of Winn Dixie) posted. Here is an excerpt from Kate's New Year's post:

When you tell a story, the world rushes by you in the same way, leaves you standing silent and alone, your face pressed up against a well-lit window, gazing at something, wanting it fiercely, knowing that you are probably not going to get it, but willing, anyway, to dream, to try.

I’ve decided that telling a story is more than anything else, the art of longing.

She goes on to talk about what someone once said about the trick to happiness: "you must have work to do, something to hope for, someone to love." She wishes these things for herself in 2008, and also for us, her readers. She closes with a beautiful image, the image that started her post, of pressing up against a window and becoming an eight year old again, wishing for the beautiful doll in the window, and all the lovely clothes for the doll. She hopes

...that you can stand, for a moment, on a cold street, in front of a lighted window, that you can put your hands up against the glass and let yourself hope and believe that there is, after all, a way in, a way to the other, beautiful, side.

When I came into the house tonight (this morning?), empty except for air, I walked the porch and wished and prayed beauty for this year. Not superstitiously, but asking God to bless all who cross our threshold. Asking God for good neighbors in the second floor apartment, which empty right now, holds so many memories for me from when EE Sally lived there, first as a single woman, then as a young bride, then as a young mom. I remember her son having baths in their kitchen sink. I remember dressing up in the bridesmaid dress we decided not to use, having a fun "photo shoot." (Where are those pictures now?) I remember when Sam Brunsvold was shot and Sally and I heard the answering machine click on three times through the floorboards of my apartment, the answering machine that was in their back room. None of us slept that night. And how my life was lived in that apartment, as her friend, as bridesmaid for her wedding, and yes, as we watched 9/11 unfold on the TV in her living room.

Earlier this week, on Wednesday, the day that I came back to Pittsburgh, the Louise family got into the car and drove downtown to DC to the National Gallery of Art, where there was an Edward Hopper exhibit in the East Building. We had seen other Hopper exhibits, but this one was different, more of a complete retrospective of his work. I saw paintings I'd never seen before (Chop Suey) that became instant favorites. The last painting in the exhibit was of light in an empty room. It made me think of what this apartment looked like on the first day I saw it, when I fell in love with the skylight. And it made me think about that day, somewhere into the future, when I will say goodbye to this garret, this place that has been my home for over a decade. That someday it will be an empty white room with only sunlight on the walls.

A lot would have to change for me to leave this place, my rent is ridiculously low and seemingly rent controlled as I am paying the same rate I paid when I moved in in 1995. But the Hopper painting made me think that yes, someday I will leave this house. Someday I will move on. And there is a longing there--a longing for my own home, something not rented, but also a longing that I will forever remember this apartment, where I have become a young lady, a grown woman.

As I look forward to 2008, I wonder what parties will happen under this roof, who I will entertain, who I will feed. Will there be another man to kiss on my sofa? (Although I've decided already that this WILL BE the summer of a new sofa, that if I don't have one by summer, I will get rid of the old one and put my bed in this back room until I get a new sofa to replace the one that came with me to this apartment, lo, in 1995.) (I live in the back room come summers--the sunlight is too strong through the skylight too early in the morning and it is cheaper to mainly cool this room, which is smaller and darker.) (I live in the front room come winter, it is colder, but I get more sunlight.)

I had dinner with a friend tonight. It was such a delight to get a text message--I get them so rarely--and to be thought of. We ate at Whole Foods. It was a good way to begin the ushering in of this new year. After we ate, we walked over to Walgreens and then went our separate ways.

I know we all put so many hopes on a new passage of time, maybe this year will be the year...but I really do feel a surge of hope. I pray that that surge will stay with me, and that I can come back to this night in my memory when I feel downcast. There's nothing like standing outside at midnight with people you've known forever and popping loud noisemakers into the air.

A dear bloggy friend, Erin, turns 40 this year. She has decided to do 40 things, and I may think of 37 things to celebrate (ack) that I'll be turning this year. I'll keep you posted.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

I didn't think I needed to talk about it...

Hands up, now. Who teared up from a phone commercial lately? Or Hallmark? No? I mean, all the phone commercials these days, well, just aren't Kleenex-worthy.

Well, folks, I have just seen the first commercial of the new year (yes, I know it's still 2007), one that might have Daddy's little girl tearing up from coast to coast.

A girl and her dad are walking to the car. "Drop me off about a block away from the theatre" (and you're thinking, embarrassed it's your dad dropping you off?) and then she says, "People on that side of town ride bikes and drive hybrids" (As they get into an SUV). He says, "This is a hybrid."
She: "A hybrid hybrid?"
He: "Well, I don't know what you mean, by a hybrid hybrid, but this is a hybrid."

Here's the tearjerker, the "I want my mommy/daddy" moment: "Why didn't you talk about it?"

He: "I didn't know I had to."

Let that sink in. Really sink in. You've been on one side of that conversation in your life--why didn't you tell me? I thought it was obvious! I didn't know I should tell you.

And this is where the rubber meets the road. I am 36. I am pretty much a well adjusted person and I don't blame my parents, per se. But if they wanted to instill me with their values, I think they thought I'd get it by osmosis or gene transfer.

The only thing my parents ever talked to me about was marrying someone Christian.

When I got my first credit card in college, they didn't tell me, make sure you don't spend more than you can pay in one month. Okay, maybe they told me once. But clearly it didn't sink in.

When I got kissed in high school, I had no "talks" in my brain about what is/what isn't appropriate.

Hello, out there. I don't have children. But if you do, use those moments, teachable moments.

Yes, we, this is a hybrid, that's important to us.

Yes, saving is something you should do, even with your babysitting money (I'm 36 and this is the first time in my working life that I have a savings/emergency account.)

When my parents didn't talk to me about dating, I thought (yes, I did) that they figured I wasn't going to get any dates, so they didn't need to give me any information.

A lot of my values are from Seventeen magazine, Writer's Digest magazine, because that's where I got information as a teen.

The talks I had with my parents (who bless them, were raising toddlers and a thirteen year old) were the "we're disappointed in you." If I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't get a talk. Grounded? (Nope, not even after I did stupid stuff that they found out about.) Um, I did plenty that was stupid and therefore worthy of grounding. I was never grounded as a teen, therefore, I have been grounded by me myself and I in my twenties and thirties.

I know this is rough, I know I could write this better, but I probably won't, because it would get too close to the little girl in me that has to admit that I'm 36 and I'm my own parent now.

PLEASE talk to your kids.

there must be something more...

than winning three games of free cell...

I had a very productive day at work, so I think I'm truly slumming. And no work until Wednesday (or plans except church and MAYBE a party on NYE with NH Sally and hopefully watching the Pens game).

Oh, I have got to get a life.

Or maybe work on the one right here. I suppose I could fold some laundry...

See, writing is a good motivator!!

I haven't watched the gag reel yet...

As you may have read earlier this week, Sis hit it big when she gave me "The Family Stone" for Christmas. We saw it as a family last year--movies at, on, or near holidays are big in the Louise family. And as it was on my list, she got it.

And so I have been blubbering away for the past last bit of it... (THAT'S NOT A SPOILER!)

**********

Tomorrow I have to get out of the house by 8:30 am the latest, so this is tomorrow morning's post.

I am looking forward to the gag reel. I need a laugh.

Life is good. Friends are better. Love is the best. As the movie ended, I could only hear Amy Grant singing (in my mind, folks, in my mind. Amy Grant is NOT, I repeat, NOT, a part of the soundtrack of "The Family Stone")

"That's what love if for
Nothing else can do it.

Round off the edges
Talk us down from the ledges
Give us strength to try once more
Baby, that's what love is for
That's what love is for."

*****************

ah, don't you wish you knew what got deleted right here??? i'll never tell...

*****************

Time to make some popcorn for the gag reel. Thanks for reading and commenting, my dear ones.

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

I never realized that my dad and I both have the same morning habits: up early, downstairs in the kitchen before breakfast, reading. (In our pjs and robes. That was the part that hit me on the head. My mother never comes downstairs unless she's fully dressed.) It used to of course just be the paper, but of course now it's the computer, which whomever gets there first, the other one vies for.

He also has paper issues. As in, not going through and getting rid of paper. Ding!

It was such a comfort to have him drive me to Hagerstown--he was ready (I did have to prime the pump though...) with a "I've been there" story, a girl he'd dated that right before the six months broke it off (and my father is a romantic, I'm sure he was keeping track of the six month mark). And four months later she got married. Oh, I've been THERE. (Mr. Ten Years Ago was engaged within six months of our demise.)

I feel better, but I still have this stupid cold--the mucous, well, I'll leave it there so as not to go all TMI on you. I can't pretend it's because I haven't dusted in FOREVER.

Resolution, once this cold is gone: take a walk every day.

Resolution, once this cold has been gone a few days: to dust.

Yesterday, I did park once. Meaning, I parked in the middle of the parking lot, went into Kmart, then walked to the chiropractor, at a brisk pace, then back to Kmart, then back to the car. I didn't break any mile marker records, but hey, it was a little bit of exercise...

I doubt that will happen today. Today I'll pretty much go to work and then come home and be a couch potato whilst continuing to do laundry and unpack. I honestly can't believe I'm going to publish this--it is so not thrilling...

But it's better than what I wrote when I first sat down, which was full of the reasons we're not together. (I'm sure that would be more thrilling, sorry SP, but it got way too personal, even for me.)

It's really nice to not have him here. I mean, we live in the same house, but we're loud enough that we didn't run into each other, but I heard him. In from work, slam! Leaving for work, slam! (And then I'd watch him out the front window, walking to his car.) Just knowing he's NOT downstairs, just not hearing the slam!s, well, it helps. His mail started back yesterday, so I don't know when to expect him...but he's not here now, and he wasn't here last night.

And I continue to listen to High Fidelity in the car. And I've been re-reading A long way down. One of these days I really am going to write to Nick Hornby. Because honestly, I don't think I would have survived this summer without listening to A long way down in the car. And I don't know who better to get me through this "Oughngh!" stage than Mr. H. It helps to know that he's married and has a kid, so he survived this, made it through to the other side.

It's actually sort of a joke between me and myself--because on my Facebook page, I've added "Books" and the books I'm reading are "Slam!" and "A long way down" by Nick Hornby. And books to read: "Fever Pitch" by guess who. Finished reading: "High Fidelity" by, yes, Nick, the Nickster. Well, I take a bit of a turn with Favorites, I put "Blue like Jazz" and "Traveling Mercies." But it occurs to me that I really identify with the 30-something male characters. More than any of the chick lit I've read. Maybe because they all had swank jobs in publishing and I sort of hated them for that. Maybe because they lived in New York and I sort of hated them for that (because I always wanted to live in New York and work in publishing.) But they were never grungy enough for me. It makes me wonder what my novel will be like, once I get around to writing it. Because grunge, grit, heck, I live in the grunge capital. Seattle may claim it, but it's really too shiny. Pittsburgh just pretends to be shiny.

Okay, I better eat something and take some cold medicine. It is FREEZING sitting at the computer in front of these windows.

I ordered the complete fourth season of SATC. Oh, I am looking forward to watching them all, Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda.

Brrr...okay, I'm moving!!

funny, not so ha ha

So my chiropractor says, "have a few days off from the library?" Um, would I be back in Pittsburgh if I did?

I went to Kmart to buy underwear and cold medicine. So how did I also accrue expenses (and loot) on such items as bobby pins, hair elastics, a "scrapbook style" calendar, and a grey long sleeve shirt?

I'm alone in the house for I don't know how many days. I'll enjoy it while I can, doing laundry galore (yes, the new underwear and some towels before work) and leaving all the lights on, and my apartment unlocked. I didn't need Eva to leave (Ms. Second Floor) when she did--it sort of catatstrophied (if that's a word) the Max loss. We weren't "mates" in the significant sense, but sometimes she'd give me leftovers if she made chicken and I bought stuff from her daughter's school fundraisers.

My computer clock STILL is so messed up--right now it thinks it's 7:57 AM, and I can see plainly that it is five til noon. Why I didn't ask Santa for a Home Edition of XP (still available for upgrade, though not if you buy a new computer--that's so you don't send me comments) is beyond me. I guess I'm dressed for the day in what I wore to the chiropractor, jeans that are showing their age, and three shirts layered (pink, green, white).

I'm always hopeful when the phone rings and inevitably it's a telemarketer (the joys of caller ID).
Nick Hornby is still getting me through the heart shock. And I'm getting the idea from a lot of folks that six months is sort of a watershed. It either works or doesn't in that time frame. Besides, did I really think I was going to spend the rest of my tomorrows with a musician who makes less than I do a year (and I make nothing) and who isn't available to go to church even if he wanted to because he's working? I'm on the dark side of thirty (that is, I'm closer to 40 than 30) and he hasn't even hit 30 yet. Oh, but it would have been nice. He could make me laugh. And he didn't take my shit. He knew when I was lying. I never dated anyone before who took the time to see through me like that. I better stop writing this drivel, and go spend some time looking at this "scrapbook calendar" I got.

Oh, and Bhutto got killed. Crap. I always liked her, the little I knew of her.

It's gray here in Pittsburgh. Funny, I like Pittsburgh gray (which is what it's called). It fits my mood. I have 30 minutes before I have to leave for work (if I ate at home. But since there's no food in the larder, I have 15 minutes. I guess I'll drive thru somewhere on the way...)

gifts always lift one's spirit...

So we got lots of goodies, here at the Louise homestead.

Mamma is going to Mexico in February with Pappa to look at Monarchs (butterflies) so they both got "travel"or "Mexico" themed gifts. My mom got a cool book on butterflies.

Sis got socks. And more socks. And yes, more socks.

Bro got lots of boxers and books (things that begin with b).

I got a wide range: earrings (amber!!), books, Friends Season 6, The Family Stone on DVD, chocolate (of course) and yes, Santa knew what toothpaste I use.

Books that I got: High Fidelity and Long Way Down (to complete my Nick Hornby fiction collection.) Good job bro!

I'm feeling better (the cold medicine has kicked in, plus I'm taking tons of naps) in the physical realm and a little better in the achy breaky heart division...it comes and goes. (What did Delaware? Idaho, Alaska. She wore her New Jersey.) I'm telling you, KEEP SENDING JOKES. (Thanks Kiki.)

We went to see the National Tree and all the state trees. The Pennsylvania tree was decorated by kids at the Children's Museum in Pgh, so it wasn't very "state" oriented but it was fun.

Since I missed bro's birthday and will miss Sis's birthday, those days were celebrated last night (Bro) and tonight (Sis). I was very excited to get Bro the DVD of Ramones It's Alive. I made Sis a folder over Thanksgiving and so that was her birthday gift. I used to make tons of folders and got out of it, but when Max was feeling not so well the first time and just wanted to be alone, I made him a folder. When he was in the hospital for the tonsillectomy, I made him another one. So I was in practice and decided to make Sis one. I think I'll make one for Mamma that has monarachs etc.

Well, we've been talking to cousins all through the day, which is nice too. Just got a chance to talk to my only male cousin, whom I wanted to marry when I was five and he was thirteen. Since then, I've learned about inbreeding, and he met a nice girl in Arkansas and has three girls, so I guess my chance is gone.

Well, gotta go. Maybe I'll just take another nap. I have been sleeping A LOT. This cold isn't so fierce but I'm just trying to sleep it out as much as possible. Oh, and Aunt Flo came to visit this morning. "Merry Christmas!!"

oh by the way

Merry Christmas.

missing him

I need to go watch Friends--you know, where Monica and Tom Selleck break up. I promise I'll do this when I get back to da Burgh.

But if you want a laugh, (you won't get one here), go over to Caro's blog. (Why a dog is better than your Significant Other.)

until I learn how to use de.lis.io.us...

this blog is a placeholder for cool stuff.

(and I just lost this post, but here's a cool link from Jessamyn, about saving $$ on printer ink.)

Pizza heals all...

Marian (the librarian) and I went to a NoHills pizza joint after work and talked loudly (as the Stillers played in the background). I didn't know I could eat half a medium pepperoni, but I did. She ate the other half. Good friends are worth their weight in gold.

So I'm feeling a little better than I was this morning. Well, actually, a lot better. (Oh, internets, I was a [sob, sob] mess.)

And my therapist cracks me up--she bleeds black and gold like most Pittsburghers and so on game day, (today) (I had an emergency session) she is always wearing team colors, as she was today. Her necklace is black and gold. Not black bead, gold bead but black beads (like 10 in a row) and then gold beads (like 10 in a row.) The only place you could get away with this unusual beading style is in this here town where I live.

Oh, and I got a book in the mail! It's a reader's advance, woo hoo! Oh, and Slam, Nick Hornby's YA novel, is waiting for me at work. (I forgot to check it out, so it's still on my desk.) But I actually want to save it for my mini-holiday down South.

I think it's off to bed. My computer thinks it's 8:38 pm. I know that it is really 5 til eleven. Tomorrow is a full day (I gotta pack!!)

Hugs to yins, SL

(You might have noticed that I didn't mention the C word in this post at all--I am in denial that there is a gift giving, family traveling holiday coming VERA VERA SOON.)

happy birthday bro!

my bro turns a quarter century today. Woo hoo!

"I didn't [sob, sob] call [sob, sob] you!," I say.

One of my favorite lines from Girl's Poker Night. Ruby has had a really bad week and when she went to see her therapist, she sits there the whole time, sobbing on and off or just being silent. So her therapist calls her at home.

"This is Ella Gallagher calling," she says. As opposed to writing? Of course she's calling! You don't need to tell me you're calling!

"Um, yes, hi, Ella," I say.
"You're still upset," she says.
"I'm not still upset..." [which turns into more sobbing.]
"You know I don't like phone sessions," she says.
"I didn't [sob, sob] call [sob, sob] you!," I say.

So tomorrow is another doctor day. Chiro at 8:45, therapy at 11, and dentist at 3:45. I'm getting a crown put on. YAY!

********

This post was originally written and posted on June 3, 2007. Even if my therapist does have space for me, I don't know if I'd have time, since I'm still sitting here in my bathrobe. (I just did the math...if I got in the shower now and got to work by 10 I could do it. I'd have to relegate errands to tomorrow.)

No, I have not started packing for my Christmas trip home. The scab on my broken heart got pulled off (yes, by me--kicking self, but also giving myself a little grace--so human am I) last night.

But the very cool gift for my brother arrived the other day, so I will rest in that. Because I have to find rest somewhere.

from Daysgoby...

You Are Rudolph

Sweet and shy, you tend to be happiest when you're making someone else happy. Why You're Naughty: You sometimes stick that nose where it doesn't belong Why You're Nice: Christmas would be a sad affair without you!

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

Accept the fluster of lost keys...*

I woke up this morning with these words (the title) going through my head. As I think about how to be kind and honest and still be me (transparently me) on this blog, I am at a loss.

Ugh.

Not that I was necessarily being unkind, but I wasn't being exactly kind by writing about someone else currently (sort of) in my life without his permission (and possibly with out his knowledge), writing on the Internet, which is open to all.

I just finished reading a book called "I found it on the Internet," which is about teens and their uses of the Internet, etc. I cannot imagine having a blog with my real name where I wrote about my feelings--I'm waiting to be a grown-up, I guess. A blog with my real name would have to be about being a librarian, or the mechanics of being a writer. But not about ex-boyfriends and about being still single at the Christmas of my 36th year.

"Children's work is play. Teenager's work is socialization." I think about how guilty I feel about checking Facebook at work, how, when I started this blog, I vowed that I wouldn't write in it during work hours. The problem, I think is (at least) dual: I am lonely. I am bored. These things don't go away when I'm at work. So while I am generally always having work to do when I'm in the Technical Services dept, when I'm done with a task, I "treat" myself and check my email, Facebook. In Children's, it is more pervasive (is that the right word?)--when I'm at the desk, I generally don't take "work" with me. This means the Internet is right there, calling my name. "Come play!" Instead of reading blogs that might be pertinent to my job (there are a lot, librarians blog a lot), I use the time to catch up with my friends.

A Zits comic strip really brought it home. The mom comes over to Jeremy and says (something like) "Your father and I are worried that you aren't spending any time with your friends. Is there something wrong?" She talks for all four frames, meanwhile Jeremy is sitting at the computer. Each frame has a little factoid that announces something about Jeremy's online life. Frame 1: (and this is from memory, the book is at work) 187 IM friends. Frame 2: 31 blogs. Frame 3: 325 unread emails. Frame 4: Jeremy says, "Not enough time."

Truer words were never spoken. The online world is always there. In the words of country singer, Alan Jackson, "It's five o'clock somewhere." So someone is ALWAYS "online." And I have friends in Thailand and the Czech Republic, so they're online at different times because they're in a different time zone.

I have had time to send how many emails, post how many blog posts, check my Facebook profile, etc. etc. But I have not MADE time to write a letter to a friend who has written me three letters (on stationery) in the past couple of months. Part of it is that ohmigosh, it is 9:15 and it is soooo easy to lose time on the Internet!

(But I showered first. I do have to eat breakfast, though.)

Do not adjust your dials...

Yes, I have done yet another purge--my conscience got to me again. I'm not saying I won't write more posts like I did in the past week (and then pull them) but for now, I feel that I need to be careful, as my blog is not airtight and fully anonymous.

Stay tuned!

Games people play: an interview with Free Cell player, Sarah Louise

Sarah Louise: Yahoo! Free Cell is one of my favorite games.

Pink Sneakers n'at: Why is that, Sarah Louise?

SL: Well, I'll tell you. I run the game. The computer deals the cards, and I have to go by the rules the computer has determined. The computer won't let me cheat. But other than that, I can replay a game as many times as it takes to win. Sort of like Run Lola Run. Hmmm, there's a movie to put on hold at the library...

PS: Run Lola Run? Isn't that a German film?

SL: It is. I love watching foreign films, especially if I sort of know the language, so that I don't have to completely rely on subtitles. The actress in RLR is the romantic interest in the first Jason Bourne movie. Another movie to put on hold...

PS: Let's talk about games...

SL: Sorry, my mind wandered a bit there. So, yes, why I love Free Cell. I can move the red eight to the black nine and then move it to the other black nine. Since I play for me, for the win, I don't care how many times I move the cards around. Some computer clock keeps time, and maybe counts my moves. But I don't care. I just keep moving the cards around until they make sense. I once watched my brother play Free Cell, and he was paralyzed by making the right next move. When I play Free Cell, there is no right next move, just a next move. If I can't make a next move, I hit replay or new game. Sometimes I will play a game eight times before I win. Sometimes I will play a game three times before I give up.

PS: Have you ever had a problem with stopping?

SL: I think I know what your question is. When I was in grad school, I literally was addicted to Free Cell. It was the first thing I did when I got home, the last thing before I went to bed. I actually deleted the games application from my computer. I had a similar experience with Bookworm, which I downloaded to my computer. But now I see Free Cell as a diversion. It took me a while to figure out that the Yahoo! version was the one I liked most. I've tried others and Yahoo! is the best fit for my online game needs.

PS: do you ever think about crossword puzzles?

SL: You ask questions in the most bizarre fashion, as if you could read my thoughts. Yes. I think about crossword puzzles. I miss doing them. Very much. But I'm not in a place right now where I want to pay for a daily newspaper subscription. And I can't imagine doing crosswords online. I suppose if someone wanted to give me something for Christmas (hmm, my brother in Austin still hasn't gotten a list from me) they could get me a Mondays book.

PS: A Monday's book?

SL: Crossword puzzles are harder as you get later into the week. So Mondays are easiest. Sundays are hardest. A real crossword afficionado can do the New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle in pen. I'm still at the pencil on Mondays stage in the Washington Post. Can I go off topic for a minute?

PS: It's your post, baby.

SL: You know what I really want for Christmas? I want to find the purple watch Sally gave me and have the battery fixed. It's a little luxury that I wouldn't do for myself if I had someone else that was around. But how do you put something like that on a list, when my parents want to give me things like chicks for women in Indonesia (which I love getting every year). My mom bought me something pink yesterday. I hope it's new slippers.

You know what else I want for Christmas? There are a few relationships that I would like back, but to get them back, there would be a lot of work. I would like them back, without the work.
Some of them are relationships that fell away without my noticing, really. I have no idea even how to work towards getting them back. Some of them are relationships that ended with horrible emails. I don't want to write emails to repave the road back to relationship. Some of them are relationships that ended with an awkward hug, when all the other hugs had always been wonderful.

PS: Are relationships like games, do you think?

SL: Well, they do have rules, and they are fun, but the winning part is different--a relationship "win" isn't a personal thing, it's communal. Are we done?

PS: Thank you for coming in, Sarah Louise. All the best.

SL: You're welcome. I'm going to sit here and watch Jerry Maguire, one of my favorite movies about games.

Three more...

There is nothing more beautiful than a good sports movie. I laughed, I cried (well, they were laughter tears), it was better than Cats* (but don't tell my sister.)

Tonight I watched The Mighty Ducks, a movie I remember watching on video in college. It was an odd night--a girl I barely knew from the Christian fellowship on campus invited me to hang out with her. We got take-out? and went to the the video store, where she asked me had I seen MD and I said, no, and she said, "oh, you gotta see this!" I don't remember that we became best buds or that we even hung out after that night. But I was in a funk, and the Ducks got me out of it. It was actually my introduction to hockey, a sport I now love. I would put The Mighty Ducks in the category of movies that can cheer me up, no matter what:

The Mighty Ducks
Adventures in Babysitting (Which I can't believe I don't own.)
The Full Monty

So here are three beautiful things for today:

1. A beer with the Mighty Ducks--quack quack quack
2. Snow--I'm crazy, and I don't enjoy driving in it anymore than the next guy, but it is beautiful.
3. My sister is back online!! (She's been down with a nasty flu for the past week.)

Oh, and bonus, I drove past the toe dazzling house on Siebert (yes, on purpose, I probably will drive past it every day I work until Christmas comes.)

[We pause for Sarah Louise to compose herself. We pause for station identification. We pause...and the moment passes...and life goes on.]

______________________________
*from the Memphis Flyer: "Throughout the 1980s it was common to review any lame-leaning event with the deadpan comment 'I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.'"

Three things

You know there's a whole movement of blogs (too lazy to find the link but I bet it's easily googled) that just list three beautiful things from the day. You know me, I'm much too verbose to keep it there, but I'm still getting my mojo back, so today, that's my post.

Three beautiful things:

1. Speaking a bit of French and more, listening to it spoken to me at Cafe Chez Amis for lunch.
2. Christmas lights--there is one huge house on Siebert that dazzles me to my toes.
3. Jacob Have I loved on audio--I'm on the very last bit, where she's a nurse midwife in the Appalacian Mountains (oops, spoiler alert!)

More to come, I promise.

grateful that this month is not napoblomo...

I'm all blogged out. I'm having fun writing status updates on Facebook, tho.

I'll write sompin good for yins soon. I promise. Really. But right now I just need to hibernate...

the time has come, the time is now...

...to write about something else. Maybe I'll do a meme...

Well, here are some "badges" for National Crazy Month...

So here are my thoughts: the beach one, b/c in a few months who will really care, so the surf can erase it away. The sidewalk is the exact opposite--for posterity, I DID IT! The others are just fun, and I think my favorite is the pink one. C'mon, tell me you didn't see that coming...Vote if you like, I am interested to hear your thoughts (since this is unofficially read and comment on other people's blogs month). Although the pink one probably will be the one I use, unless I can rotate them... oh, and they are all from imagechef.com.

poetry for a Sunday morning...

I have been roaming the Internet instead of walking in Highland Park. I have been blog-walking. Which is often easier, often harder.

I don't know which is which.

It is December, and while I love this month, I love this time of year, it is also a time of busy busy busy. Someone has to work at the stores so that other people can shop at 7 am. Someone has to play the music so that other people can sit and listen. Someone has to catalogue the books so that other people can find them on the shelf.

Okay, so that last one isn't a December lament, but I wanted three. And it makes it personal. Well, the whole bit is personal. Anyways. (Actually, it is a December lament, since it's my lament in the month of...nevermind.)

Poetry is often how my soul gets soothed. So I bring you some poetry.

This one asks a big question that I'm not prepared to answer: Variations on the word love by Margaret Atwood. (I love MA's poetry.)

This one, by Naomi Shehab Nye, brings it home, and makes it bigger than you and me. Which I need it to be. Because two people aren't enough. (WHERE IS MY COPY OF ABOUT A BOY??): Before you know what kindness really is. (linked from bobbie)

It's raining. I think I'll walk to Tazza and get my breakfast sandwich. I meant to take a longer walk, a walk all around the park, but this will have to do.

DONE DONE DONE

I will upload some "I did napoblomo 2007" badges that I made at imagechef.com LATER. Now I gotta get ready for work.

buh-bye