Archive for August, 2012

Food is a slippery slope

I started off thinking I didn’t want leftover arepas for dinner.  More in the mood for fresh vegetables.  So I headed in the direction of Common Market.  Of course there was no parking.  So I thought, Harris Teeter has a cold salad bar.

So I assembled my salad.  Then I found the bread.  A small boule of sourdough (rife with dough conditioners I have no doubt) got me thinking, a loaf of sourdough with a bottle of wine, what a fantastic combination!

So you see where this is going.

Had my salad, ate all the bread, and drank all the wine.

Probably most of the way through Hugo, which I am enjoying immensely.  I do so heart old movies, and it’s wonderful to see some of the things that inspired my modern-time favorites.



I caved.  Ultimately this will be better all around.  I changed my Netflix status from “cancelled” to “1 DVD at a time/unlimited DVDs monthly.”  It costs the same as I was paying for the “Instant Play” but my options are much, much broader, while only being allowed 1 DVD at a time will keep me from binging like I did a few weekend ago.

Taking breaths

I got up at about 8 this morning because the cats were whining to be fed and I had to pee.  Went back to bed immediately after, reveling in the warmth and comfort of the bedclothes.

Sometime in the hour that followed I began having the most horrible dream.

It was so surreal it’s difficult to organize and describe.  I was making plans with [someone- either my mom or co-worker or both] to visit my dad at Christmas[? it was wintery].  He lived in Ohio or some other midwestern state.  I think it was Ohio even if it was located slightly further south and west than it really is.  It was time to go and I wasn’t even sure if I was driving or flying.  I was packing and looking for things and needed a shower but there wasn’t time.  Then, mid-way to the airport, I realized I had paint all over my scalp.  I had been painting [a] ceiling and, looking in the mirror, it was like really heavy dandruff all on my scalp, but blue paint.  I could sort of peel it off in strips, but I really needed to shower to get rid of it all.  So I went [home, which was sort of like a trailer park or refugee camp].  There were these little boys – maybe 8-11 years old – who were coming in to the house.  The locks didn’t really function, the doors were that hollow plywood/particleboard and they didn’t really even latch.  But I was desperate to keep these kids out of our house.  It was so stressful.  Trying to hold the door closed only to have one open up a door I thought I had shut firmly.  They were clearly accustomed to making themselves at home and weren’t about to stop.  I did finally get back to the bathroom and that door, at least, kept them out.  I drew a bath and washed my hair, hoping I was getting all the paint off.

Then somehow I ended up with a few people in a gym somewhere.  We were at a card table about to play some game of cards I was not familiar with.  Some of the cards had been bent or folded in the corners for reasons unknown.  The dealer was to my right, and I got the impression he was about to explain how the game was played.  I wasn’t sure why we were there because I really needed to get back to the airport.  A couple cops showed up and I guess we were doing something illegal because they seemed to be looking for us.  All I could think was that I hadn’t done anything [that I knew of] and I just really needed to get going.  I had probably missed my flight but it was only a 4-5 hour drive and I had to get there [to see dad and his girlfriend].

At some point there was a news article online about my dad having been gunned down outside his home.  My dad had been murdered.  It was like something out of Fargo, I could see the house or barn, the flannel red & black, the snow light under the awning.  I did some more searching online just to get a second opinion.  My dad…. murdered.  I started to cry, and that’s when I woke up.

It was a little after 9.  I got up and pulled my yoga pants out of the dryer.  I put the kettle on.  I really don’t feel like going to yoga this morning.  I feel like crumpling into a little ball back in bed.  There are some very clear interpretable images in this dream.  I am determined to pick it apart and use it to help me feel better.  If I’m not going to yoga, I will at least help myself understand where the stress, pain and grief of this dream is coming from.  My tea is steeping.

It is absolutely beautiful outside today.  Mild, even a little cool this morning.  Sunshine and breeze streaming through my open windows.

On to the dream.

The anxiety, feeling rushed, is almost certainly a reflection of the anxiety I have been feeling the last few weeks and in anticipation of the next few weeks.  I just want to take things one event at a time, and find myself having to plan for several all coming back-to-back.  In the dream, I just wanted to close out the world so I could take a shower, have a moment of peace.  I’m not sure what the little boys represented.  They were mischievous, but either didn’t know or didn’t care that they were doing wrong in insisting in entering someone else’s space.  But my home, the structure that is supposed to keep out all but the invited, was not solidly built.  The doors didn’t even latch properly.  This suggests that the house must represent myself.  I am trying to keep something[s] out, I feel they don’t belong here.  Not when I have so many other things I need to do.

If I had caught my flight and made it to Ohio, would I have seen dad before he died?  Would I have been killed too?  Or would we have gone somewhere and have missed the killer[s] entirely.  I don’t know.  Maybe the plane would have crashed.  The point is that in the midst of my frantically rushing and yet not actually attempting to get to the place I was supposedly frantically trying to get to (attending the card game instead), the entire purpose of my frantic rushing was lost.  What this suggests to me is that I need to remember to breathe.  To take what is in front of me and not panic about the rest.  With everything going on in the atheist group, I’m finding it more and more difficult to do that.  I have a rash on my chin that mom suggested was probably brought on by stress.  And she’s probably right.  In trying to accommodate all these “obligations” (as I see them) I am running myself down, not giving myself the care, nurture and attention I need.  I am becoming depressed, my sink full of dishes, clean laundry piled on the chair in the living room for probably a month now.  I feel out-of-control and so am asserting control over one of the few things I can: my household.  By neglecting it.

Poor, dear m E.  I want to brush my teeth, change out of this shirt that smells like mildew, take my drugs and maybe fold some laundry.  So I think I will.  After breathing for a few.

That “blah” feeling

Woke up this morning feeling so very blah.  Just negative, not breathing right, not standing up straight.  I’m sure it’s because I’m feeling so overwhelmed this week.  I sort of wish I had stayed home, but I don’t really feel bad enough to take a “personal day.”  Just blah.

Holding out ’til teatime, which I have at 10:30.

I wanted to make it up to the big cat sanctuary open house this weekend, but I simply won’t have time.


There’s nothing like spending a couple hours with a dozen or so people to leave me feeling a little hollow inside.

We had our monthly planning meeting for the atheist group and it was so very loud and I was surrounded and not drinking.  I was so very eager to be gone from there.  The feeling that stands out from the moment I departed was one of “I want my night back.”

I often find these meetings discouraging.  It brings out what I imagine to be the less pleasant qualities in a group of people I have only a meagre personal connection with at best.  People are unable to intuit.  They aren’t able to discern what others mean even if they don’t quite say it the way they mean it.  I won’t deny that I don’t get it right all the time, but sometimes it just seems so obvious.  But then, maybe I need to remind myself that many of these people are rather singularly left-brain inclined…. intuiting not necessarily a forte.  Studying or gaining an understanding of each person’s manner of communicating not necessarily important to them.  Maybe if they realized how much faster these meetings would go if they would just pay attention for a moment.

It feels awful to be in that setting.  Nothing so isolating as to be surrounded by people all talking, feeling no keen desire to try to get into conversation with any of them.  Feeling no keen desire to yell to be heard or strain to hear.  How I crave a small group!  If I am to be in one at all.  Otherwise, I am left with this emptiness that I have to purge from myself somehow.  A bit of Jonsi, then brush my teeth and meditate for a few will hopefully help bring me back near centered.


Random e-mail from SMF thanking me for suggesting he try seitan way back when.  Wtf.

:: edit ::

Also, I failed miserably at not drinking last week.  Thursday was the RiffTrax LIVE event and I took myself out for Mediterranean food beforehand.  Sitting outside in pleasant weather (in the shade), I simply had to have a glass of white wine.  It’s one of my favorite things to do in that situation.  Then going out to dinner on Saturday with the veggie Meetup group, I had 2 Red Oaks (beer).  I think I ordered primarily because very few other people did.  This is one of the weird things about me that I haven’t quite gotten to the source of yet:  I see that most people are doing one thing and automatically go, “fuck you all, I’m doing this different thing just because.”  I have noticed, though, that sometimes when I do that, others decide to follow my lead.  Not in this case, but still.  It’s interesting.

Anyway, this week, starting over, no drinking, I promise.

I’ve finally reached a point where I feel I can start giving some of my hard-earned $$ to some good causes. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but I’m one of those people who always seem to be living hand-to-mouth. But! I’m determined to change that.

So I just signed up for the bottom-rung automatic donation at Foundation Beyond Belief. A measly $5 a month, but it’s a start.  I feel good just having made that first contribution.

I’ve been pondering my dating history a little bit lately.  I’ve come to the conclusion that I just haven’t had enough practice to expect myself to get it “right”; take the most recent example, NG: it was obvious to me that he was way more into me than I was into him.  In retrospect, it would have been better to make that clear to him as soon as I noticed it, to make sure we were both on the same page.  Because I didn’t, my breaking it off came as a much bigger shock to him than it might have.  I’m not beating myself up about it — I just didn’t know any better.  And now I do.  This, I think, is the nice thing about starting to date young.  I didn’t do that, so I’m having to learn these things now.

It’s nice to have this little awareness.  Kind of a mini-breakthrough in awareness.  Yoga + meditation ftw?  Maybe.

Two things (or more)

After spending all afternoon/evening watching worse-than-mediocre movies on Netflix, I decided to go ahead and cancel.  Who cares if I waste my time in other ways.  At least I’ll have one less way to waste my time.

Also decided to go ahead and give up alcohol.  Save money and self-respect that way.  (also minimize chance of date-rape, in the event I ever date again)

My textbook arrived on Saturday, which is good because the first day of class is tomorrow.  Must remember to bring it with me tomorrow morning.  I realized earlier today that I didn’t get myself any school supplies.  I suppose I can borrow a notepad from the office.  Fortunately, since it’s just one class, I shouldn’t have too much trouble keeping myself organized.  Rather than reminding myself of how good I have been at letting myself down in the past, I am trying to stay positive.  I’ve been rather agitated today.  It began in part because I forgot to take my drugs before going out to yoga late this morning.  I have been building anxiety about class, though, too.



Thankfully, I have got rid of the last drops of whatever cheap alcoholic beverage I bought at Trader Joe’s.

le sigh.

I’m trying to call the atheist group book club on being exclusionary.  I would normally never do such a thing.  I wouldn’t necessarily mind, but in addition to becoming more argumentative when drinking, I also seem to grow more petty.  Less tactful.  I don’t know.  I could be kicked out of the book club if I go too much further.  Jerks.  I won’t deny that I can be something of an elitist at times.  But if you’re going to be a book club associated with a group, you should probably make sure to include that group.  Right?

I don’t know.  It’s something that’s bothered be about that book club since my first interaction with it.  I wish they’d leave and we can start our own.

That is all.

The Curse of the RomCom

I really need to stop watching romcoms.  Actually I really need to stop watching movies period.  Maybe I should cancel my Netflix subscription.  All I watch is tripe anyway.  Except that doc about the World War II spy called Garbo that I watched earlier today.  That was pretty amazing.

The point is that I watched 3.5 feature-length movies today. And several yesterday as well.  I haven’t accomplished anything, I’m so disoriented I barely know what day it is, and I closed out the marathon with a Korean RomCom.

Ever since the post before last (“______sexuality”) I have been pining.  Just generically, not with any particular object. Er, subject.  Really, anyone could come along and sweep me off my feet at this point.  Provided they meet certain criteria, of course.  “A few smiles, a few compliments of the Navy and he’s a lost man” — to paraphrase Jane Austen.  (sidenote: if anyone ever writes me a note like the one Captain Wentworth leaves for Anne in “Persuasion,” I will probably explode)

So yeah, a movie with a couple of cute, clean-cut Asian dudes and an awesome kiss at the end just kind of exacerbates my symptoms.  Even though she really should have gone with the other guy.  But oh well.  That’s just me.

So yeah, I have spent this entire weekend, essentially, doing nothing but watching so-so movies on Netflix, lying around in my underwear, binging on my favorite unsalted tortilla chips and salsa.  I made cookies but they’re not even that good.  I ate four of them anyway.  In my defense they were hot out of the oven.


The problem is, if I cancel my Netflix account, what will I do with my time instead?  Will I suddenly feel compelled to do the things on the nice long list I wrote out for myself this morning?  I sincerely doubt it.  Simply denying myself access to my primary source of escapism will not automatically make me a productive, responsible adult.


I am taking the day off from work tomorrow so I can go down to the community college and get my parking pass and my textbook.  With money I don’t have.  But that’s another story.  The main thing is that if I wake with an alarm, leave the house, do some things, then come home, I might be more inclined to take care of some of the things on my list.  Might.
I did stop myself from having another cookie.  I went back there and looked at them, almost reached for one, but talked myself out of it.  I still feel a little gross from having eaten four of them.  It’s what I do, though.  It’s like an automatic thing, I don’t even think about it.  Same with the tortilla chips.  I seriously almost consumed an entire jar of salsa this afternoon.  The routine of it, or something.  I’m not really sure what it is.  The comfort of not having to think about what to do next, maybe.  No choice to be made, just pick up another chip, scoop up some salsa, put in mouth, chew, swallow.  Repeat.  That could have something to do with it.  I suppose it’s most likely part of my dissociative tendency.  If I were present while I ate those chips, I would have focused more on the flavors, the textures in each bite, maybe taken it slower, maybe I would have started feeling full sooner.


Tonight I will brush my teeth.  I didn’t last night.  Didn’t feel like it.  I also need to put the sheets back on the bed.   They are in the dryer.  le sigh.