I slip the ruby raspberry into my mouth and my tongue is shocked with the memory of Alaska in the summer. Cool damp days and lush forests. The ocean salt and earthy mud. Outside Suzi & Rich's house we kids clamber up the steep, slippery hill, grasping carefully at raspberries and gooseberries while trying to avoid the thorns.
Was it that trip that Brian leaned down so unexpectedly to kiss me goodnight? May raspberries always bring me the sudden joy of newly-discovered love.
Yesterday about 2 I realized that my jaw wasn't hurting nearly as much as it has for the past few months. That's good, as I was afraid it was going to force me to switch meds yet again. Today there are twinges, but it's almost normal. And my mood seems to be stabilizing a bit.
My coworker offered to pick up something for me from the cafe down the hill. Mmm. Homemade french fries.
I've been sleeping well for the past week+. The temperature must just be perfect. (I was a bit puzzled when I awoke to the sound of Aidan licking the sheets, though. I looked and there were two huge drool spots next to her. Since when do cats groom beds?)
A few hours ago I met (for the first time) a group of people I've been doing web stuff for for years. They were so nice and appreciative and excited to meet me. It was like walking into a different world. And one of them said she'd be thrilled to be a reference for me and would like to hire me on a contract basis to keep doing some work for them.
Ok, maybe not. But I did paint the front bedroom this weekend. 2 coats of primer. 2 gallons of ceiling paint (one coat with a roller, one using those rectangular foam pads with the little hairs), two gallons/two coats of lovely butter yellow paint. It's pretty.
It had better be, since that's all I did Friday & Saturday. Paint, run to Menards, paint, run to Home Depot, make rosemary potatoes, sleep. Perhaps it would have gone faster had I taken up any of my friends on their lovely offers to help, but frankly, I just didn't have the energy to paint and talk to people. So I listened to reruns of This American Life on MPR and thought it was depressing that they were in the middle of a fund drive and still had to get over 7000 more people to join. At the rate they were going, Oliver & Wesley might be heading to college when the pledge drive finally ends. Seriously, you've been begging for money for 2 days and have only gotten 1700 people to respond? Maybe your methods should be re-examined, as they seem to be less than successful. I think it was less depressing when they focused more on the cold hard cash ("We need $25 million dollars in the next 3 minutes. Call in to show your support. Thank you, Jimmy in Ohoho. Ok, everyone. Now we need $24.9997 million.) rather than a body count.
Random thoughts of the day: I really hope I closed all the windows before I left for work, because that was a lot of rain. Hmm. I'm not feeling quite so bad right now (2pm-ish). Only 2 more hours, then I can go home and work some more. Hungry. The sugar snap peas from the Farmers' Market were delicious, but not too filling. Maybe I'll cook up the rest of the potatoes tonight.
Rosemary Potatoes
Slice tiny potatoes in half, dump in 9x13 baking pan, add olive oil. Toss so they're all coated. Add some sliced onions (preferably the tiny purple ones that came in the $3 grab bag at the Farmers' Market). Splash liberally with balsamic vinegar. Sprinkle with freshly-ground pepper and more sea salt than you really think is wise. Drape top with several good-sized sprigs of fresh rosemary. Bake at 400 for 1 hour or until they are soft. Eat with your fingers.
A Voice for the Dead by James Starrs
Part 3 in my summer of death. A great choice for the third book, as this one covers the why of forensic analysis. The author focuses on the stories of specific individuals (Jesse James, one of the Boston Strangler's victims) and what we can learn from examining their remains.
Stiff by Mary Roach
Much more tongue-in-cheek and lighthearted than the previous book, this was obviously written as popular literature, designed to be showcased on the "new arrivals" table at Barnes & Noble. Less clinical, this book focuses on the wild & wacky hijinks of dead bodies (crash test dummies, art exhibits, etc.).
Teasing Secrets from the Dead by Emily Craig
Part one in my self-created "death and dismemberment" trilogy. It was fascinating to learn how they determine cause and date of death from remains. This book was very scientific & detailled. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about maggots. Very glad there were no photos.
The Chinese Bell Murders by Robert Van Gulik
Probably not a series I'll seek out, though I enjoyed this one just fine. The glimpse into life in ancient China and the way the author used the format of mysteries actually from that time were intriguing.
How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez
Recently I've decided that I like the name Julia. Perhaps I will use it if I ever have a daughter, since my favorite name (Emma) has become way too popular. What? Oh... I should talk about the book? Well, I thought it was interesting that the author started with the most recent events and then each section went farther back in time. Kind of like "Memento", only less interesting. Not one I'll recommend to others.
Halloween Murder by Shelley Freydont
In the trick-or-treat bag of brain candy mysteries, this is a Bit-O-Honey (or perhaps a mini box of raisins). Make of that what you will.
The Wrong Rite by Charlotte MacLeod writing as Alisa Craig
Too many characters with Welsh names. By the end, I couldn't keep them straight. But that's ok, because it was just a brain candy mystery anyway.
Spirit and Flesh by James M. Ault, Jr.
It was interesting to see the patterns of family & social dynamics the author discovered. But I didn't find anything particularly eye-opening. Perhaps if I were a complete stranger to small, conservative churches it would have been different.
The Volumetrics Weight-Control Plan : Feel Full on Fewer Calories by Barbara J. Rolls and Robert A. Barnett
Nothing new. Which fills you up more: 20 grapes or 20 raisins? An orange or a glass or orange juice? Yep. There you go.
The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd
I'll admit it. I was a bit disappointed. Perhaps I'd just been expecting too much, as I'd heard so much hype. It was enjoyable, but nothing earth-shattering.
Galileo's Daughter by Dava Sobel
I really enjoyed this one, devouring it during walks and in bed. I find it hard to believe that just 400 years ago people didn't accept that the earth spins around the sun. As I read, I kept thinking of modern parallels, such as the religous groups which are so opposed to the thought of evolution. The book I'm reading now (At the Water's Edge) is really expanding my knowlege on the topic. In 400 years, what will people take for granted that we can't even imagine right now?
Summer by Edith Wharton
Blah blah blah. Edith Wharton. Blah blah. Poor girl falls in love with a man above her station. Awakening sexuality. Blah blah blah.
I Want To Buy a Vowel by John Welter
It's been a long time since a book kept me chortling to myself as I read late into the night. An immigrant whose only english is "I want to buy a vowel," a little girl who prays to a baseball player because she can't pray to God without thinking that she doesn't know what his face looks like, a teenager who creates "satanic" scenes in the woods using canned vienna sausages. What's not to love?
The Laying on of Hands by Brenda Rhodes Miller
I read this book the week Jonah was born. The interplay of a story about a girl becoming a midwife and actually watching a birth was very interesting. It brought up questions of faith and healing and love that I've been pondering for quite a while. Lovely.
The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton
Yet another effort in my survey of Edith Wharton. Yet another book that convinces me this is not my favorite author. It's been a month and I can't remember anything about it. Perhaps this is the movie I fell asleep watching, rather than Age of Innocence. Oh well. It's not like it matters.
Heavenly Date and Other Flirtations by Alexander McCall Smith
I should learn my lesson. I didn't like any of the other books by this author that I've read. In this series of short stories, I became more and more annoyed as time went on. A nice surprise was the last story ("Heavenly Date"), in which a girl in Italy gets pregnant by an angel. Lovely and luminous. But I wish I'd skipped the rest.
Whisker of Evil by Rita Mae Brown
I tend to enjoy this series, but let's face it - they're brain candy. Sweet sweet candy, but candy nonetheless.
The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
I suppose I'm glad I read this, in that it's a "classic" and now I can check it off my list. But it didn't really grab me. Interesting to see how life in a different era & social class might have been, but the story wasn't something that captured my imagination. The movie was worse. (I think I fell asleep while watching it.)
1) Seeing Oliver & Wesley for the first time. Feeling glad that at least one thing I've been praying for has finally come to pass. Knowing that Jenell & James have two beautiful, healthy babies.
2) The neighbors deciding to repaint the toothpaste-green house a nice slate blue.
3) Turtle brownies
4) My niece starting to walk this week.
5) Huge boquets of peonies from Carla's and Holly's gardens.
6) Having enough sick time to skip work yesterday and sleep until 1:30 in the afternoon. (Though the way I'm feeling right now, I probably should have done it today, too.)
7) Not feeling quite so close to plummeting over the edge of the cliff into the sea of despond.
8) Sun. Need I say more?
Why can't I be happy? Why can't I feel normal? Why do I sit here crying in my office and using every ounce of energy not to SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM. Where can I run to? What can I do? I feel trapped and frantic and all I want is to be happy again. Why is that so hard? Why can't I be happy?
I'm hoping today's plummet is PMS. Because if it's not, it means that yet another med isn't working for me. I sit here in silent despair and people 5 feet away don't even know. How can they not feel it?
Why do I feel like this is all my fault? Why do I feel like I could just snap out of it if I could try hard enough?
I came in to an email message saying that our main homepage banner isn't showing up. Strange, it worked last week. So I re-upload the page and that fixes it. Ok.
Then my boss shows up with a fistful of printouts from other peoples' computers. None of the Internet Explorer users can see it. I have no idea why; it's the same code I've used successfully for over a year on another of our sites. Oh well. So I use a different script to pull in the random images. (Why nobody told me this was a problem during testing, I'll never know.)
I stop by boss's office to see if it works on his computer. Now he tells me that the highlight box is 2 screens off to the right. Lovely. Had he told me this before, while we were testing the site? NO. Bastard. When I said it might have been good to tell me earlier, he said he had. No, you told me the footer was wacky, but not the highlight box.
And what's better? I'm spending all this time trying to fix it so it looks right on HIS computer, which is running Internet Explorer for the Mac. This browser is 5 years old! Microsoft said 2 years ago that they wouldn't update it any longer. It is obsolete. That is why it can't handle some of the newer stylesheet stuff I'm doing. But he won't use a newer browser. Why? Because he's a clueless idiot.
I hate it here I hate it here I hate it here.
Boobalicious (adjective): Me in the dress I wore for my cousin's wedding. I'd sewed the neckline a bit so that it would stay closed, but the thread came undone. I'll have to fix it before Laura's wedding this weekend. I felt very ... um... on display.
Adorable (adj.): My niece! So much cuter than my cousins' babies. :) I think this would be true even if I weren't biased.
Not as bad as I'd expected: Sharing a bedroom with grandma, explaining to mom & aunts why going up for the boquet toss is just public humilitation when you're 32, sitting through an entire weekend with people I barely know, complaining to my brother "why do they get to have sex and people give them presents?".
I got to spend a lot of time with my brother, his wife, & the baby. That was delightful. Less one-on-one time with my parents, but then I don't really know what we'd talk about anyway. I managed to bite my tongue and not snap at grandma when I wanted to. The asparagus on the buffet was delicious. At the reception, I got to talk with my uncle about home projects for several hours, which was very interesting. I've never really gotten to know him, but I think he may now be one of my favorite relatives.
And - surprise of all surprises, match boy emailed me after a week of silence to apologize for not managing to connect last weekend and ask if I would still like to get together.
I have to go to another fucking wedding this weekend, for someone I don't even care about. Hell, I can't remember which cousin (they're twins) is getting married. I'm only going so I can see my niece. Why do I feel obligated to spend $400 to attend the wedding of someone I don't even like? Her sister's wedding was a positive nightmare.
I very nearly quit today. My boss is incompetant. Nobody I'm working with understands anything, but they all pretend they do. They focus on nit-picky details in parts of the project I haven't finished yet, while ignoring the major issues I asked them to discuss and make a decision on. My boss ignores my emails, it's taken 3 years for him to finally give me the photo CDs I've been asking for, and he stops by my office every 2-3 weeks (if that). Does he have the slightest clue what I do? No. So why does he decide this year to give me a lower performance rating? Because he's a fucking idiot, that's why. Hell, this afternoon he told me to just drop all sub-navigation from the new site because he didn't want to deal with figuring out what to include. WTF? Honestly, the man is a moron. I hope he gets fired when they rearrange the structure of the institution. I think know a blindfolded pony with a squirrel on its back could do a better job.
Boys are stupid and ask you out for coffee, then disappear from the face of the earth and refuse to respond to your email saying that would be nice & would this time work. Chicken. I can see that you logged in, so I know you got my message.
I am angry about everything and just want to cry and bitch to the world. I want to eat a pan full of brownies without worrying that I'll get fat(ter). I want to go home and never have to come back to this place. I want to work where people actually appreciate what I do, rather than seemingly sabotaging all of my projects. Heck, I don't want to work at all.
I found a job listing for which I am preeminently qualified. But it's in Eagan, which is farther that I really want to drive every day. I should apply anyway. It can't be worse than this hell-hole.
I just read an entry by Real Live Preacher where he discussed going on antidepressants for the first time. What really struck me were two of the comments people left for him.
"One of the things I do and encourage people I work with to try is to create a ritual around taking the meds, one that's sacramental like communion. Receiving the medication in the same way I receive communion as a reminder of God's grace helps me move out of unrealistic expectations that I should just buck up and deal with it and in to gratitude for God's grace in the form of medications that help me live life abundantly. The meds do not cover up the feelings or make them go a way; they give me the energy to actually feel with them and respond appropriately to them."
- Friday Mom
"My friend says that living with depression is like year-round Lent. Maybe meds give you back Advent, Epiphany, Pentecost, etc."
- Karen