myspace

Looks like I'm headed back there, after coming to the hasty conclusion that I had lost my blogs, which it turns out, I hadn't. So I'm migrating. But maybe I'll be in both places at once. It just might be possible!

AT&T Sucks

If a phone is deemed physically damaged then it's not covered under their Warranty Department. The toggle fell off of Andrew's phone, and they refuse to view it as a defective phone. They want to send me a refurbished phone and pay for it. $120.00. Fuck that. The one year warranty is only good for software malfunction. I should've gotten insurance, they said. But no one offered it at the time I renewed the contract. Andrew is responsible for physically damaging the phone, they said, and that's not covered. I argued the phone was defective from the start. I didn't know if there was a fracture in the toggle because I didn't physically examine it with a magnifying glass. But the fracture was probably there, and it was only a matter of time before it broke. It was like being in court, but on the telephone, with these incredibly rigid customer representatives, who hadn't a clue as to the nature of customer satisfaction. The damn phone is new. 40 days old. I am so pissed. I am seriously considering dissolving my contract with AT&T. And this, after doing business with them for over 10 years.

Bald Men

Do they wash their scalps? I suppose they do. I guess they treat it like any other part of the body, but do they really need to use shampoo - if they do - since they have no hair?

You know how some bald men have shiny heads? Do they oil their heads, or is that their natural oil? I want to take a ball of cotton, put astringent on it, and wash that shine off, until it has a matte finish. Shiny scalps are nasty, annoying. Ew. I think if I were a guy with a shaved head, I would obsess over the shine of my scalp. But who knows? Maybe it's a sign of good grooming, or a healthy scalp.

I wonder if they have products for men who shave their scalps? I mean, there are products for everything else.

The Dough

I think I fucked up the dough. Shit.

The Sauce

I've decided to go with the sauce first. Sauteed mushrooms and onions in a garlic wine sauce. Smells sumptuous. There is something about sauteed onions and mushrooms. Makes the the kitchen smell great. This pizza will not have a tomato sauce. It will just have cheese, sauteed vegetables and fresh green peppers, a mozarrella base topped with italian sausage. Kalamata olives too. The Sauce. That would be a good name for a blog or magazine. Mixing cooking with publishing. That's all.

Frazzled

Help! I'm gonna make two pizzas and I don't know where to start. Two completely different pizzas. Do I make the sauce first? It's too early to do the dough. I'm all anxious about my pizzas. Plus I think I'm hungry. But actually that's a bonus. Food comes out tastier when I'm hungry while cooking. I become a real gourmet. There. That's much better now.

Weather Predictions

Those who predicted the weather had it all wrong. The storm never came. But actually they were right on one note. The wind has picked up considerably, and is expected to reach 50 miles per hour. That's blustery. The leaves were whirling around furiously about 4 pm. But the good news is that Ted made it here safely and on time, so now I don't care what kind of weather we have!

Busy Sunday, Gloomy Sunday

All this Suzy Homemaker stuff has made me tired. Out of it today. Plus I forgot to take my meds yesterday, and that Effexor XR is bad, has nasty withdrawal symptoms. I have a bad headache today, and the weather is lousy. Raining on and off. But the good news is Ted comes in today. In a couple of hours. Think I'll make homemade pizza tomorrow. That should be good. Have most of the ingredients. Need a few more, which I can pick up tomorrow.

Just cut my nails. Feels so weird. They've been long and manicured for so long, but they started to break, so I decided to cut them. Feels strange to type with the pads of my fingers. I've been using my nails for so long to strike the keys. I feel like my fingers are kissing the keyboard!

Oh, my goodness

There's a new translation of Sir Gawain and The Green Knight. I love that poem. It's filled with medieval adventure. I have to have it!

Waiting For The Snow

I just keep looking out the window today. I follow the clouds closely. Do they look like snow clouds? The sun is hidden now. Perhaps the snow will come sooner than later. I fine tune my vision, to see if I can detect the first formation of a snow flake. But that's not all I'm doing today. I'm baking chocolate chip cookies, and earlier I made an ample supply of hummus, so easy and cheap to make. Who knows. Maybe I'll win a domestic wave award. We'll see how long this lasts. At least there is plenty to eat. But it seems if I don't do it, no one else will. That should make me feel important. It does. I've swept some of my low self-esteem out the door. Hurrah!

Suzy Homemaker

I'm starting to cook again, and oh, isn't that good, cause I'm such a good cook. Yesterday I baked pumpkin bread. The day before that I made spaghetti sauce, and the day before that I baked chicken. That's a record!

Spiro came home from school last night. Ted comes in tomorrow, and it's starting to feel like Christmas. Except that I'm broke. But who needs money to enjoy the spirit of the season? Thanos and I have been feuding for the past week and yesterday things came to a blow. Why are you so mean to me? he asked. I had to stop and think. I was pissed at him because when I asked him one day to take Andrew out and teach him how to park, he refused. That was when I turned into a snake and hissed at him.

But guess what? Andrew passed the driving exam! So all those months of hard work paid off. Now Andrew really likes my car because it's fast and that worries me a bit. Last night he said he was going out for 15 minutes and came back 2 hours later. I was furious. On the other hand, he needs to get some experience in the car by himself, and he didn't veer from the neighborhood, just met up with Eddie and picked up Courtney.

A snow storm is forecast for the region. I look forward to it, except I don't want it to interfere with Ted's arrival tomorrow. Hopefully it won't. Another storm strikes Chicago today, so flying out of there tomorrow should be okay. But if our storm doesn't hit until tomorrow, that's not good. And right now it doesn't look like stormy weather. The sun is out, and hence no snow so far.

Almost Friday

Sunday Ted comes in. However, a storm is supposed to hit the region over the weekend. Hope that doesn't delay his arrival. Two more days of subbing this week. AP History. The Spanish invasion of the Aztecs. Interesting stuff. Talked to Judy yesterday. She straightened me out a bit, did a little bit of emotional ironing. Tried to put things in perspective. Tried to be less negative. Tried to empower myself! It worked. But just a little bit.

Redundant

When I get depressed I become redundant. My rhythms are low, hard to hear. My thoughts follow a circular pattern. I repeat myself a lot. It's a cycle and it's vicious. And mostly, I don't have much to say. Like now. If I were to go on, I'd start babbling. Lately I've been in a somber mood. I don't really know if it's a precursor to depression, but my expression becomes stony. I want to say more, but I just can't. Kitchen duty is a drag on days like this. The sink is slowly filling with dirty dishes, not that I've been doing any cooking lately. That could be because there isn't anything to cook!

I sure hope Andrew passes his driving exam this week. I know he does too. He's developed into a fine driver, though I told him we'll still be driving together when he gets his license. He still needs practice driving in different conditions.

Chain smoking, as usual.

Let me see now... What can I possibly say? I've lost my punch. I suppose that's okay for a while. Maybe not.

Balmy Wednesday

Been busy working, though not busy at work. Most of the time substituting is like baby sitting. You're a body. There because they need someone. I shouldn't complain. It's easy work. And the pay is decent. You don't take your work home, either. So it's not bad, although it can be boring.

Feel as though I am sliding into a depression. Finances are rough, and the weather is gloomy. And yet, I keep dreaming about BMWs. I must want one badly. Ironic, since I have no money. Yet who's to say what I can dream about. I'd love to have a small coupe, however. Forever seeking sporty cars. A good fit for my personality.

Have calls to return, which I don't feel like doing. I don't know, when I get home I just feel out of it. Been falling asleep on the couch earlier and earlier. Zzzz.

Lake Forest Mall

Lake Forest Mall is a dinky, little mall, located in Gaithersburg. It's a hang-out for gang wannabes, and boasts upper scale stores like Macy's and Lord & Taylor, as anchors, in addition to Sears and Penneys. You can do the mall in 15, 20 minutes max - that's how small it is. Oddly, practically everyone knows of Lake Forest Mall, even those who live in Virginia. I don't know what other clientele it boasts besides the gang wannabes, but it manages to attract people from the surrounding vicinity. I admit. I go there in a pinch, but I usually rush my way through the mall, finding it distasteful to stay any longer than I have to. But it boggles my mind to think that this dumpy little mall is a beacon for many. It makes me think, oh, boy, isn't this provincial!

Gloomy Sunday

Slight rain. Drizzle. I've advanced or regressed. I've taken responsibility for my own laundry. I now gladly accept kitchen duty. Soon there will be nothing for Thanos to complain about. We'll see where that takes us. But I don't know... Yesterday I read an article in the NYT about perfectionists and he fit the one description. There are two kinds, they say. One is self-critical, but the other dispenses criticism to others, since they can never fit into this perfectionists "perfect" world. I am one of those who do not fit into his perfect world. But I am not the only one. My kids, too, are subject to this criticism, and I don't like that one bit. It's amazing how trends emerge once you are married, once the euphoria subsides.

The Itch of Confidence

Feeling that a bit lately. Andrew wants to go to New York in February. The Magnetic Fields are doing a concert there. And I'd love to hear them live. I'm reluctant to drive around Manhattan though - that's the general feeling I have. But for a moment there, my confidence blossomed and I thought, why not? So maybe we'll be in New York this February. I mean one of the reasons I didn't mind moving out here was because it is relatively close to NYC. So why not take advantage of that, and go with the flow?

Bored, Bored, Bored

The weather is beautiful for a winter's day. It's balmy outside. The sun is out. The snow has melted and the roads are clean. Still I'm bored. If I had another canvas I would start another painting. But I don't. Don't want to turn the tube on today. I'll get stuck to the monster channel if I do. Could do laundry. Domestic chores. I'd rather not though. It's too nice to be inside. Probably would have gone shopping, if I had the money. But I don't. Why are there so many negatives on such a beautiful day? Are they part of being normal? Cause that's what I am right now. Normal and bored.

Hiss

Last night I became a snake. I was so frustrated by Thanos' behavior that the words I spoke to him came out as a hiss. For a moment I imagined I was a snake after that. I was in shock. I sounded more like a snake than a human being. I have never hissed before. Thanos became very quiet after that. He hadn't known he had married a snake. Furthermore, I had no regrets about my behavior. Cold but not calculating. Ah, the imperfections we face as human beings.

The Roads

The roads were a mess the other morning when the snow began to fall. Maryland is totally unprepared to deal with winter storms. They excuse themselves, citing various reasons why they didn't salt the streets before the storm hit. They act like alchemists, talking about different solutions, one which included the use of beet juice in combination with other chemicals to treat the roads! Salt blows away, they reasoned, if you treat the roads before the storm hits. In addition, they speculated about the cost of treating the roads, as though they are the frugal people of the state. They oughta get some lessons from Chicago, a seasoned city when it comes to treating the roads: When the forecast predicts a snow storm headed their way, they do one thing: They salt the roads. Salt. Salt, And salt. A Maryland official went so far as to blame the weather forecasters for their lax behavior. Ugh.

Art Critics

Art critics amuse me. They talk of strokes and all, like some strokes were done in one sweep, when in fact, the finished "stroke" took several strokes to accomplish. Getting there isn't like anything they can imagine. That's what makes art criticism an especially difficult art, if it even qualifies as an art.

Panic

I panicked there for a moment. Thought I would have to go out. But I don't. The roads are slushy now, but I imagine they'll freeze again tonight. School will start on time tomorrow. Today was a late start. Too bad I didn't work. Oh, being normal and all, I've been working more, which is good, cause I need the money.

Ted

Ted loves System Of A Down. And A.F.I. Intense music. I can only tolerate in moderate amounts. I hope Ted's search through life will be a good one. We all search. At least I hope we do. Life is a journey. How's that for an overused metaphor?

Parallel Parking

Fuck parallel parking!

The Courts

I hate the courts. The tongue of the law has little to do with justice, I said, years ago. My divorce was nasty. Both Bill and I were unstable at the time. I attempted suicide. He was out of control, walking around parking lots in his pants only, no shirt or shoes. I nearly succeeded. My brain cells went to sleep, the doctor who cared for me, later said in a telephone conversation. I was in a coma, and on a ventilator. Granted when I came to, I saw a minister standing over my bed. They had placed strips of cloth as restraints on me. Didn't remember a thing. But the minister was from a Lutheran church, a seasoned man. It was kind of nice to see him standing over my bed. (I'm feeling deja vu. I've talked about this before, haven't I?)

But anyway, my chances of getting custody were shot when I attempted suicide. (I have terrible timing!) In reality, however, I was the more stable of the two. I sprang to afterwards. Fanelli threw me out of the hospital after a few days, said he didn't want me in there long. This other patient told me she would have complained if her doctor told her that. But I knew he was right. Didn't have anywhere to stay when I got out of the hospital, except for Cindy's. And that's where I stayed. Then gradually I got my shit together.

The attorney for the boys hated me. She was obsessed with me. Noted the way I dressed. She was a real frump. Gradually, she altered her style. She looked at me with envy. I wore my oversized black leather jacket, mini-skirts and boots. I mean I was so anti-establishment. But this should not have figured in the equation. She made a decision about me based on her morality, and morality varies from culture to culture. Being anti-establishment didn't make me a bad parent. She favored Bill who was really looney at the time. Can't stand that bitch. Ever since then, I've avoided the courts. They're filled with a bunch of incompetent losers.

Energy Supplies

We're trying to keep energy costs down, so the thermostat at 69 degrees, which is too cold for me. I hate being cold! I just pushed it up to 75.

Bored

Normal is incredibly boring for me. I'm neither happy nor sad. I am used to being at one extreme or the other. Now while I'm thankful I'm not depressed at this time. I have to say being normal is one helluva bore. I mean I have operate on a level that I fail to find gratifying. It puts me in Nebraska.

Suffering

That's what I'm doing right now. Not having any pot is a real challenge for me. I mean, I have to be normal. And, I hate being normal! Because I'm not.

My Neighbor

Wonder if I spooked him somehow. I am capable of doing that. Spooking people. Through my tales of struggles with the underworld. The ghosts I've seen. What if all of these stories came together when I last talked to him, I mean, when I uttered the first word? So a "hi" wouldn't just be a hi. It would be infused with the ghosts I've seen. Wow. I sure hope I haven't spooked him. Wonder if he's a bit paranoid? Maybe thinks I'm a Nark?

My Paintings

There's nothing subtle about them. They literally grab your attention through my use of color. The images themselves are primitive. I am by no means a fine artist. But I have a gift. It is the use of color. I love color. My paintings are vibrant!

That's What It Is, After All

For me at least, writing is closely tied to rhythm. Basic rhythms. Vivaldi's Four Seasons, for example. Each season has a rhythm, a mood. You're either in it, or not. Right now, I have let the rhythm spill, and I can't seem to mop it up.

Blood Makes Noise

That's the title of a song by suzanne vega. great song, it is. Hm. Seem to be getting back my rhythm here. Wouldn't that be glorious?

The Biggest Problem

The biggest problem is this: I look at my painting and I ponder the following question: How would it stand against those pieces in museums? Is it any good? Sort of good? Not good at all? I have shown very few people my paintings. They all like them. Once I talked to an art dealer, and I asked her the following question about the selling of art: What makes a piece significant? I said. And she said, rather cynically, I believe, that it depended on two things - money and interest. If someone likes it and has money, they'll buy it. That automatically puts you in demand. However, I have no idea if anyone is capable of falling in love with one of my pieces. That's what would have to happen, I think. Maybe the art dealer was right, after all.

Pot

Haven't smoked pot in 3 weeks, and suddenly today I got an intense craving for it. It was hell.

My Chief Problem

My chief problem. (now that I'm capitalizing, I get confused over what to capitalize. I think I should capitalize words in the middle of a sentence, random words!) As I was saying... My chief problem is how do I attract my neighbors attention. I don't want to be a nuisance and knock on his door. And I think I've given him enough hints that I want some dope! Geez. Wonder what his problem is?

MVA

Fuck the MVA! The nerve. Failing Andrew! My beautiful Andrew.

Zack

I don't think I'm going to fire him. I am a difficult and demanding customer. That's a fact. When I say I want platinum hair, that's what I want. No traces of yellow present. Tough cookie. But anyway, Zack does a good job, and I get lots of compliments, and besides he is of one the best.

Wimp

I'm such a wimp. One day in ROTC changed my behavior. I mean, what's going on. Maybe I wanted to capitalize all along. But damn. This verges on ridiculous. Wonder what other strange twists there are to my soul.

Jump Start

Now if I could only get a jump start on my writing by slipping into a hypomania, I would be a happy person. I don't need to be in a hypomania to paint, but it sure helps with writing. As for normal, it's not bad, I now have to admit, but a bit on the boring side. I'll just have to wait and see. Patience.

Restoring Confidence

I finished a painting I started over a year ago. And I like it! It is, like all my paintings, a woman's face, done in shades of blue. At first I was apprehensive with my use of color, my lines looked clumsy, so I left them alone, moved on to use blocks of color, which worked. I have a tendency to overwork my paintings, but this time I managed not to. I call it finished. All I need now is more canvases, so I can, once again, pursue this particular passion, which unlike writing, which I find frustrating at times, which I find relaxing. Damn. Lots of which in that last sentence.

MVA

Andrew takes the road test this morning, and the roads are treacherous. Icy from yesterday's storm. I hope he passes! As for me, I fell asleep on the couch last night to the Monster channel, which has been repeating awesome black and white movies, which I adore. They're all about dialogue, stilted dialogue. (several hours later...) They started with parallel parking, not one of Andrew's strengths, and he was back in the facility within 5 minutes. He was disappointed, and angry, said he hates driving. I say fuck parallel parking. It's a hassle, and here not many people actually do it, and I bet there are licensed drivers who stink at it. Okay, so now what do I do? I took the day off. I suppose I can chase Ruddiger around... He keeps jumping on the countertops, and he's not allowed to do that!

Wednesday's Snow

It's not bad. The snow. But the roads are slick, and driving is dangerous. Was hoping for an early dismissal day, but it hasn't happened so far. I hope it doesn't snow tomorrow morning. Andrew takes his driving test in the morning, and I want him to pass. He's really improved. I don't shriek and shout anymore. Anyway, I have an easy day today. Long break between classes, enough time to come home and have a second cup of coffee. Ideal.

Tuesday Morning

Tuesday morning was busy. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist, during which it was evident that I am no longer hypomanic, which is not necessarily a plus for me. I do a lot more writing when I'm hypomanic, but now that I'm closer to normal, there has been a dramatic drop in the number of posts. I'm happiest when I'm writing. But I'm not as frustrated as I thought I'd be, which also must be part of being normal. However, I have an unfinished painting that I've been eyeing lately, and this morning I picked up the primary colors from Pearl, and am seriously considering dipping my fingers in paint again. It's awfully blustery today and cold, but the sun is incredibly bright, despite the occasional clouds.

Blustery Monday

Everything is blowing away today. Tempers soar through the air, landing on the kitchen table. I suddenly feel very private, not wanting to share the difficult moments of my personal life. In the past I have made light of the situation, but now I am in a serious mode, no longer prone to the elevated thinking of the past months. Now I would sound whiny, a characteristic I abhor. I want to write in my diary, not in cyberspace, where I now feel restrained. So, I'll just take a vow of silence for the present. Winter, I see, has finally arrived.

Dark Sunday

It's a dark Sunday, and I'm all alone in the house. Andrew is in Baltimore, attending a portfolio review, and Thanos is at a Redskins game. Just me and the cats. Ruddiger is nuts. He thinks the kitchen curtains are a tree. One day he'll bring them down. I'm tempted to have him declawed. Oh, I know that sounds cruel, but the pain is short term. Zoe was declawed and she's a fine cat. But first he's got to be "fixed." Yesterday he leapt 3 feet in the air in a fumbled attack on Zoe. Like I said, he's nuts!