Run on Sentences...

Merry Christmas!

Even though my posting has been sporadic lately, I still feel compelled to put an 'out fishing' sign up here.   So, here goes.... I'm off to Michigan for 10 days of real winter.  I packed every pair of non-anklet socks that I own (all 3 pairs of them) and I'll have to make my footies do for the rest of the days.   I know it'll be cold, but I can't wait.  It's not Christmas to me without cold, snow & ice.   

All I want for Christmas is peace in my head, joy in my heart and my family by my side.*  And I wish the same to you.   

Merry Christmas!  

*Although sometimes saying peace & family in the same sentences is laughable, it's a nice sentiment, right?

Christmas Cards

One weekend = 87 Christmas Cards.  I lucked into finding vintage Christmas labels at the Alameda flea market which made things, much easier. 

I didn't think that I'd be able to pull off handmade Christmas cards this year. 

Christmas in general is not really happening at my apt this year.  I didn't get a tree, I didn't even dig out my easy to put out Christmas decorations.  It just seems like too much work for me right now.  (this depression thing sucks!)  On the bright side, I'm going back to Michigan on Saturday so I'll have a whole week at home to enjoy my Mom's Christmas tree & decorations before Christmas. 

Fall Socks

Just in time for Christmas I finished my fall socks!

My precious

Did I mention that I have a new love in my life?   Meet my precious....

I now have internet at home and I (insert singing here) love it!  I can read blogs with my Saturday morning coffee (if I hadn't already read them at work on Friday).  I can check movie times online instead of talking to the annoying automated person on the phone.   Or I can become obsessed with weboggle all over again.  I had to cut myself off... it's becoming an addiction.  But ya know, aside from the severely addictive part, it's really great. 

depression

And by technical difficulties, I mean depression.   Any worries that I had about being melodramatic or wasting the Doctors’ time were put to rest when I found out that my score on the depression questionnaire was 21 and you only have to have a 13/14 to be diagnosed as depressed.   (ever the over achiever, I was proud that I was over qualified to be there)  That’s when I realized that, hey, maybe this isn’t just a really long bad mood.    The psychosomatic effects of the drugs are waring off, but the real stuff has yet to kick in so I’m in an in between stage. 

On Thanksgiving I awoke in a good mood and sang my way through my appetizer prep.    Today it took all my energy to go to work instead of laying curled up on the floor.  Actually, that is what surprised & scared me most about my state of being in the past few months…. I’m a emotional person to begin with and think that a good cry every once in a while is normal.   So the crying wasn’t such an indicator at first.   I mean, yeah, when I’m out at a bar and started to cry it was a hint.   But the biggest sign to me was the complete lack of emotion at times.  The complete lack of will.   I didn’t care about anything and even the smallest things like getting up and going to the bathroom had to be thought about and geared up for.  And then I would cry because I knew such things shouldn’t be so hard.  And I was jealous of everyone who could do them so easily.  And then, cried out I would go back to being will-less.   

I’m better now.  And hopefully the drugs will kick in soon and I’ll be much better.  I’m hoping that the sleepiness will wear off and that I’m just being paranoid about it triggering my latest psoriasis outbreak and that someday I’ll figure out exactly what is my version of being normal.

ooops

bear with me while I iron out some technical details behind the scenes....  here are a few pics from Michigan to enjoy while I'm gone.

Happy Halloween!

HS revisited

One of my first friends in the bay area, who I haven't spoken to in years, emailed me out of the blue last week. He had met someone who was from my town in

Michigan

.   Several emails have been sent and plans have been made to meet and talk about being a Midwesterner out here.   I found out that he went to my high school, although 3 years ahead of me. I asked my sister if she remembered him.  She didn’t, but she looked him up in her yearbook.  She looked at his senior picture (verdict:  “slight nerdy, but you like that”)  and told me his activities (varsity football, which may contradict the nerdy statement) and I felt like I was in high school all over again.   

My sister asked me if it was a date or not.  My answer:  I don't know.  Probably a "get together and see before we call it a date"  thing.   Yeah,  it's just like high school

Cottage Goodbyes

I’ll be away for a few days… I’ll be in

Michigan

to say goodbye (and help pack in between memories) to my family’s summer cottage. It seems that every nook & cranny of that place holds more memories than I can count.  My heart hurts thinking about saying goodbye.   I just want to sweep all the furniture into a truck and drive it to SF, if only to hold onto my special place for a little while longer.  You know how you say, ‘Oh I’d give up anything for that.’? I seriously thought about it.  I would have loved to have bought it from my parents if only the world, my world, were slightly different.  If only…. It’s been a rough couple months as I’ve re-examined the decision to live so far from my family and in such an expense place.   I’m trying to make peace with it, using the knowledge that there is a grand plan out there and that this is my path. I may not always see where it’s leading, but I have to have faith that it is the best place for me.  I also have to remember that what I’m losing are not things that would have happened. In all probability the family gathering over long summer weekends with grandkids running free would never have come to pass. What I’m losing is the possibility of such things.  And somehow, that seems even harder.   

It’s only appropriate that my imagination would run away from when thinking about the cottage. My imagination always seemed to be on overdrive during the summer weekends we spent there. Probably because the small black & white TV (invariable with a coat hanger antennae) only picked up two Canadian TV stations, and only if the wind was blowing the right way.   I spent my summers reading and swimming and ‘playing pretend’, which is quite a wonderful way to spend your childhood.

In my later years, it was less a land of pretend and somewhat a land of contention.   It’s where my separated parents came together to spend time and where I had to get used to spending long periods with my father around.  Not always the most fun family dynamic, but the sandy beach and infinite lake seemed to make even dysfunctional family habits tolerable. Our cottage was always the place where I felt most secure, most alive, most balanced.   Driving up there, especially in my later years, I could feel my worries melt away. Mile by mile I felt more carefree, more alive, more myself.  So, I wonder, Where to go now?

Iron Chef

I was going to write a post about this past weekend’s fun Iron Chef event, but Greg’s is so good I’ll let his stand. Go Team Blue!