Thursday, November 12, 2009
I remember either partially waking up or in the dream it changed and I was like "whew, that was just a dream" and I was so glad that you Mr H. was still around, but it wasn't like a I was really awake. I will still under the impression that there was a possibility Mr. H. and I hadn't ended up together or something.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Today, on a day that should be a celebration. Today, on a day that is, lets face it, a relief to many parents who finally have someone else to look after their kids for a few hours. Today should be a day of new hope and expectations and excitement. Instead, for some children, today is the day they learned that their parents or friends parents are scared of a speech by the president of our country. Maybe the little kids don't know why their parents are afraid, or don't even realize what's happening. But I sure hope that the high school kids are out there thinking how stupid and ignorant this hostility and fear of a speech is.
I read the speech and there is nothing political in it. I don't even think giving out a lesson plan asking students to give the administration ideas on how to improve education in this country is political. But I guess I can see how some could see it that way. The next thing you know these people won't want their children to attend public school because they don't trust the government to run schools. These are the people that cut their noses off to spite their face. I just hope that their children learn better.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
No, that's not what I meant. What I meant to say is something along the lines are "Are we freaking crazy that we can't figure out how to (a) insure the uninsured people in our country and (b) actually reform health care so those of us that are insured are not just one health crisis away from bankruptcy."
I've had lots of thoughts on this, I'm sure you have too. And instead of letting the crazies (I know, they're not actually crazy, they're just uninformed) ruin it for the rest of us because they think the president is trying to kill Grandma, I'd start posting some of the stuff I read about health care and what we can do about it.
Today I've got two links for you. One is from the New York Times about what's in the bills. I know 1,000 pages is a lot to read (you don't have to tell me, I've been trying to read Infinite Jest for ever now), but it's imperative to arm yourself with knowledge. This is a good starting point, and much shorter than the bill.
The second set of links are how to get more information about Town Hall meetings in your area and how to find more information about your Senator and Representative. I know I'm preaching mostly to the choir here (and I don't even go to church), but we can't sit on the sidelines and let this debate about health care be sidetracked by the likes of (I hate to even type her name) Sarah Palin. If her post on her Facebook page can get the Senate to take the end of life counseling out of their version of the bill...we'll it's past time that we started figthing back.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
- No one should have to get up at 5:15, even if it's to go to the gym.
- Getting to the gym and not having the dress you were going to wear to work makes for a crappy workout.
- Trying to salvage your morning with a latte only to have your watch fall off your wrist and smash the crystal isn't a good sign.
- Besides, it's Jackie's birthday, which, as we all know, should be a national holiday, so by all rights, I should get to sleep in anyway.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
For pretty much my entire life, I’ve had some connection to the mental health professions. After years of drinking and finally quitting, my grandmother became a counselor for alcoholics. This rubbed off on my mother who after partying hearty during the 80s decided that she too was an alcoholic, attended rehab a couple of times and the earned her undergraduate and graduate degrees in Social Work. My brother and I attended school sponsored group session when we were kids for children of divorced parents. I don’t remember that it helped much, at the time divorce just seemed like what people did sometimes – most everyone in my family had been divorced and remarried at least one – and no big deal. But we went and talked about our feelings I guess.
From about the age of 10 or so, I had wanted to be a psychologist. The thought of being a psychiatrist crossed my mind, being called a doctor sounded cool, but even at that age I knew that medical school probably wasn’t for me, so clinical psychologist would do just fine. However, around my teen years, we started seeing a therapist for family and individual sessions and I remember being very unimpressed about him. At the time I had a strong inner fantasy life going – as I suspect, but have never confirmed, a lot of children do. I held conversations with myself. I imaged myself growing up, falling in love with whatever famous movie star I had a crush on at the moment and having lots of kids. I asked the therapist if this was normal. And instead of just answering yes, it’s pretty normal, he asked me if I believed the fantasies I had were real. I didn’t really believe they were real, but sometimes, lying in bed at night, I could become quite involved, like reading a good book and forgetting where you are, so in a way, to me, they were real. Now, instead of reassuring me, he only made me a little more afraid that I was indeed crazy. That I’d end of schizophrenic, homeless at 20, walking down the streets talking to myself while people looked at me with pity or looked away from me so as not to be faced with their own craziness.
I never brought up this topic with him again, and instead we focused on my relationship with my mother, brother and step-father. A few years later, once I wasn’t living inside my head so much, I realized that I couldn’t possibly be actually crazy because people who think they might be crazy never are. Only those who think their behavior is totally the norm, those are the crazy one. My dream of becoming a psychologist, along with my fantasies, died around the same time.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Granny Mary saw her mother go from quite hangover each morning before she left for school to happy drunk when she got home from school pretty much every day that she could remember. Granny Mary still did the chores, she took care of the kids, but she always had a little Kentucky sunshine inside her to make it through the day. If for some reason Grandmother Todd didn't drink, because they had run out of bourbon or for the handful of other reasons she wouldn't drink (needing to take a child to a doctor was a common one), she'd steel herself with coffee all day long and smoke twice as many cigarettes. By the end of the day she'd have found a way to have at least one shot of whiskey before going to bed. And for that reason, Granny Mary never wanted to drink. Never wanted to put herself through that kind of pain each day. And so she never touched the stuff...until the day she thought maybe it would take a different type of pain away.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
When Granny Mary first got married she thought there'd be but two men in her life - her father and her husband. The first three years with Harry were all she could expect from marriage. She became pregnant immediately after getting married - truth be told she was probably a few weeks pregnant when they got married but she didn't know that at the time. With a baby coming, there was little time for a honeymoon period. Mary's days were spend preparing to be a mother; and Harry's days were spent working at the factory. Each day she'd make him his lunch and send him off with a kiss and then spend her time making what she called the baby's nursery, but was really just a corner in the living room of their one bedroom apartment, ready. She'd found a second-hand crib from a neighbor down the street. She painted the living room a bright cheery yellow and she started sewing sheets and drapes and clothes. All of her spare money, of which there was little, was put into the home, making it better, nicer.
Harry worked long hours, coming home dirty and hungry. She always tried to have dinner on the table but sometimes, especially after the baby was born, she'd just get caught up with sewing, or chores or something. Harry didn't ask for much, as he liked to remind her, but he asked that his dinner be ready when he came home. The nights it wasn't, he'd get angry, flop down in the easy chair, arms crossed, while he glared into the kitchen, waiting. He wouldn't take a shower, he did that after dinner. He wouldn't play with the baby, he did that after his shower. He wouldn't do anything but wait. He rarely yelled; his preferred method of getting his point across was sulking. Like you'd just done him a great injustice and he couldn't believe how you hadn't considered his feelings. Mary's reaction to this was to try to console, to hurry and make dinner and then apologize over and over again the entire meal. She knew he worked hard and one of the few things he asked of her was dinner when he got home. If he had just said, once, it was OK, Granny Mary might have stayed with Harry. If he had just once accepted her apology; just once acknowledged that she worked hard too making the house a home. But he never did. And so Mary believed that deep down he really hated her and thought she was worthless.
After a couple of years and another baby, Mary thought she was pretty worthless too. She'd never had the highest of opinions of herself, and living with Harry made her feel like she couldn't do anything right. And so one day, she stopped trying. Instead of making dinner or even planning for dinner, Granny Mary dropped the kids of with the neighbor and went out to the tavern down the street. She knew Harry'd never look for her here, she rarely drank, so she went in and ordered what she saw her mom drinking all the time, Wild Turkey.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Billy was eager to be milked and Grandmother Todd was eager to get back into the house out of the chilly January air. She pulled up the stool, corraled Billy and plopped down the bucket. Billy's milk filling the bucket slowly but surely, and Grandmother Todd let her mind wander as her hands worked through the repetitive movements of squeezing, pulling, releasing each teat. She thought about her other chores. She wondered what the children were learning in school. Then she thought about her own schooling, abruptly stopped at 14 because she had to work to help the family. She wondered what she'd be if she had stayed in school. Probably a school teacher because that's the most women from rural Kentucky could hope to be. But maybe a nurse. That would be interesting, being a nurse. Helping people. Having people depend on you for their lives. Grateful for the kind word, smile and aid you have given them. She'd be important if she were a nurse. But she wasn't a nurse, she was a lonely housewife with two kids who were becoming independent and a husband who wandered the town and the bars like a dog who can't remember where he buried his bone.
And that's all it took. That thought, the thought she had no control over her life. It flipped that switch like it had so many times before. Sometimes she'd come out of a Blue period after just an afternoon. She'd go back into the house, leaving Billy half milked, and crawl back under the covers. Not crying, not sleeping, just staring at the ceiling letting her mind race over all that was wrong with her. But the kids would come home, and she'd have to get up. Help them with the homework she barely undertood. Make dinner. She'd put on a brave face, and if she was lucky, The Blues would retreat into the back of her mind, to the bottom of her feet and stay hidden and forgotton, for now. But sometimes, she wasn't lucky, and The Blues stayed firmly put. Her every move would be shadowed by a thought of why. Why am I doing this? What's the point? Those times, everyone in the house just moved out of the way, waiting to let The Blues pass by.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
My Grandmother Mary was only 17 when she met her first husband - with whom she had two children in rapid succession. She thought she was in love, but in reality she said yes to the first boy from the base who asked her out. Getting married was the only way out of the house that had become mired down in alcohol and hatred. Her parents didn't fight as much as hurl accusations across the room - taking down whatever child was in the way. Harry reminded her of her dad before he retired from the Navy and took up chasing women as his occupation. And while Harry loved and doted on the children, he just saw her as the woman who didn't keep the house clean enough, wasn't bringing in any money and was never satisfied.
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