.she said.

I have so much to share about today and this past week - both, events that have happened in physical space and "events" that have taken place in my inner space (i.e., ponderings, epiphanies). It's late, though and while I am feeling better (my earlier migraine seems to be retreating slowly), I'm not feeling up to putting words together and producing coherent thoughts. I'm afraid everything would come out a motley mishmash and since I doubt I am going to do any proofreading tonight, that could get me in trouble. Instead, I will give you the bare bones of my day with promises to flesh it out later: (1.) I braved the rain for the gym and to do a little clothes-shopping this morning and (2.) tonight, I went to see Sherman Alexie at the Harold Washington Library Center downtown.

That said, I will leave you with a clip.

.but some of us are looking at the stars.

I’m following up a pretty awesome weekend with what is so far a productive and enjoyable week it seems. Mondays now mean that all my favorite library friends are on shift together, which makes my four hours at SPL seem like four hours too short. It’s nice to talk and laugh with friends while we’re sorting and it feels like we get things done a lot faster, too.  And yesterday was gorgeous, wasn't it?  The sun was out, it was much warmer than it has been (in the 60’s, in fact) and all the fall colors seemed especially vibrant. It seemed the weather was having an effect on everyone, bringing out their good spirits. As I was leaving the house for work, these two little kids at the house across the street were helping their father rake leaves. When I walked by they both said “hello!“ to me and then said it a little louder so I knew they were talking to me.  It was just cute and it made me smile.

Tonight Kathy and I will be picking up my friend and former (office) co-worker’s dog to stay with us for a few days while my friend is on vacation, so that should be interesting. He’s a small dog - not as small as Barney, but still small enough that Barney will probably be happy to have him to play with. Of the big dogs, Sara is the only one that is really accommodating to Barney’s constant need for a playmate.

This past weekend, we got a lot done. I spent time writing and we finally went and selected our Halloween costumes. Originally I was going to be a bobbysoxer and Kathy was going to be a greaser - but that idea has morphed and now we’re going to be zombie versions of each. Like an undead Danny and Sandy from Grease. Should be amusing. I’m actually getting really excited about it, because it’s been a long while since I’ve spent a great deal of time and effort on dressing up in costume. My witch costume a few years ago for an acquaintance’s Halloween party didn’t count - it was barely a costume as I just had a dress that had been sitting in my closet, the same make-up I used to always wear (though a little more “gothed” up) and a pointy hat. We’re going to the Halloween parade on Halsted with my library friends (and Jackie mentioned she might show up as well, donning a Marie Antoinette costume).

Saturday night, we went to Women & Children First for the Sister Spit takeover of Sappho Salon (I am calling it a “takeover” because I’ve never seen as many people show up for Sappho Salon as they did that night, for Sister Spit’s appearance). It was really excellent, which is such a mediocre word to describe the feeling I get when they perform. The eclectic nature of the show (which changes as they change performers and can include anything from film, to slide shows, to poetry and story readings - and so forth) always gets me pumped up mentally, inspired to write or create something. I’m sure I’ve even mentioned this somewhere before following other Sister Spit shows I’ve been to. It seems like every woman who tours with Sister Spit’s roadshow has about a zillion projects before and behind her and I’m constantly impressed by how far back they’ve been zinesters, poets, cartoonists, etc. It’s no secret that I’ve had a mad crush on Michelle Tea since I first read Valencia. But this year, I was really taken with Ariel Shrag’s comic strip slideshow, Kirya Traber’s moving spoken word and Beth Lisick’s humorous personal essay (because clearly even straight girls have a place in my often mesmerized heart). It was pretty fun and got me working, thinking about my next project.

Sunday we stomped around Gomper’s Park and talked about going again soon with cameras so we could photograph cranes and whatever else happened by.

This coming weekend is the writing group. I don’t know what else we’re doing yet, but I’ve been enjoying the impromptu nature of things. It keeps my anxiety at bay (which is necessary as I am still not on meds) and feels very Zen-like.  More to come.

I would've shouted loud and broken through

I sat down to write and forgot everything I was going to say. This has been a constant for me lately: forgetfulness. Well, forgetfulness and inability to complete anything. I have been trying to finish watching Sarah Polley's directorial debut, Away From Her for some time now, but I have to pause and leave it regularly. Irony of ironies: if you haven't seen it, it's about a woman suffering from Alzheimer's.

Trying to fit things into my days and my life when I am so much of an introvert (i.e., doing so much, around so many people, can drain me quicker than anything) and when I have so many endless errands (as my former therapist liked to call them) is proving to be a trying task. I jot notes for blogs and stories in my journal, but it takes me forever to sit down with it and type it, shaping it into what I want it to be. I have made a lot of gestures toward submitting work (poems, personal essays, etc.) to zines of online acquaintances...but none of these have made it out of the gate, yet.  If only I could manage my Internet addiction better, too. I actually have a real problem with this: I get online, planning to only spend a few minutes, and the next thing I know I've wasted an hour or more. I could never seriously ask someone to police me on this, because I'd probably just get annoyed with said person. So I have to figure out a way to police myself. If I am writing online (this blog, or even managing to answer a longer email I've been wanting to get to), I don't feel so bad. But browsing, looking up stuff, reading blogs, etc. - after awhile, I start to feel really guilty because I feel like I've wasted so much of my time.

And time is a constant worry for me. I don't know what it is, but I never feel like I have enough time. Not enough time in the day, not enough time in my life. Every single second is a step toward nonexistence and just the thought that I am not doing everything I could be with my life sends me into a panic. Which in turn depresses me, demobilizing me and there, it starts again. Vicious cycle.

That's what this month is for, though, right? Getting myself back in the groove of living. I just have to figure out how to fit things in and get things done, get my needs met...and don't collapse in the process. Maybe I need more vitamins.

Forever is half a moment away...

The Bad News First:

The last few weeks my emotions have bounced about like an eternal game of table tennis. Trying to sit still, breathe steadily and not scream or curl up in a ball and commence bawling like a smacked newborn was a struggle. What's worse has been that none of these ping-ponging emotions have had anything to do with something concrete that I could pinpoint. Instead, they were due to reluctant withdrawal from the drug Cymbalta. I hadn't meant to quit – was actually quite pleased with what it was doing for me. Due to my caseworker's lax attitude toward renewing my medical benefits (when I talk to her, she tells me she's been “swamped”) and my mousy inability to respond as anything other than polite and understanding, I have been off my antidepressants for over two weeks. Much of the time was spent feeling irritable, sobbing at ungodly hours (much to the chagrin of my sleeping cat) or trying to hold onto my head as a result of what the forums call “brain zaps.” This is basically feeling like you're in motion while stationary. I seem to have finally made it out the other side of these symptoms, but now I'm not so sure I want to return to Cymbalta even if I do get my medical card (I say “if” because my caseworker is truly useless, I'm sick of DHS and I'm starting to wonder if taking chances with my health would be the better bet). Cymbalta withdrawal was the worst I've ever experienced and I have to admit, it frightened me.

The Good News:

I'm happy to report that lately I have been going out more, discovering new places. Back in August, my 19 year old nephew, J.D, Kathy and I got to check out Subterranean for a small local show featuring The Record Low, Fake Fictions and Flatbear. That night out set off this restless urge in me, a longing for a time when I was getting out more, seeing Chicago and feeling alive, on fire, my stomach full of electric eels. I think hipster joints get a bad rep but I love them – they're so unlike anything that would sprout up in my hometown. I don't miss much about my former roommate but I do miss how, when we were still friends, we did a lot of exploring the city on foot. I saw so much and damn, my calves never looked better.

Since Subterranean and my nephew's visit, there have been craft fairs (and stumbling upon Alliance Bakery, which I'd only heard of before), Rainbo Club farewell parties, writing group meetings at The Common Cup and Pressure Billiards, a training session at New Wave Coffee in Logan Square. The more I discover places I like, the more I want to find more. Thus, I am declaring October my month of fresh, brand-new experiences and discoveries (and here's to hoping that it won't end when the month's over). This may seem a little unwise as my gainful employment has been not-so-gainful lately, my hours and wages have taken a nosedive, but I have faith in my ability to work around this.

This begins tomorrow – 100% for sure and even if it kills me (which it surely won't!). I am getting myself out of bed to head to the thriftstore. Later in the day, if all goes according to plan I will be donning cotton candy pink streaks in my hair. And next weekend, I am going to be sure to wake up bright and early each day to visit the gym again. The fact that I've had this membership since July and have only been once is just insane. This month, there is also the Chicago Book Festival – which I hope to get to some of the events of – and as part of that, I will be seeing Sister Spit for the third time (but the first with Kathy alongside).

I just want to wipe out my gray weather, Cymbalta withdrawn moodiness with a fresh start. There are so many things I have always wanted to do that I've always been to scared to pursue – this is my attempt to move toward it. Next up, maybe I'll tackle my fear of cars as I've had this sudden, strange urge to drive. Maybe voice lessons – something I've always thought about and that's been reinforced by my obsession with Glee. And then there's burlesque performance – something I definitely plan to take a class in soon.

All this seems to mean something, seems to point to something I need desperately and that somehow, I have to find a way to get: we can either do this the easy way or the hard way, Louise!

In other news, I spent over four hours writing today - reviews and personal narrative and then, this blog. I have to try not to worry about who is going to want to read what I have to say, where could I publish a piece- all the things that leave me anxious and feeling like a failure.  Just get the writing done.

Honey, Honey

When autumn began rearing its red and gold hued head, I began daydreaming of apples. Apples, in whatever form, always seem like an especially fall weather food. A few weeks ago, Kathy and I decided to bake apples. We decided on a recipe for "honey baked apples," which is really simple. The turned out really well, all sweet and wrinkly, with honey seeping from their browned skins. Visual evidence below.

The recipe we used was from Cooks.com, though we didn't use raisins and we substituted powdered cinnamon for the cinnamon stick. Here's the recipe:


HONEY BAKED APPLES
6 lb. baking apples
2 tbsp. walnuts, chopped
1 c. water
1 tbsp. raisins
1/3 c. honey
1 cinnamon stick (2 inches)
1 tbsp. lemon juice
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Wash and core apples. Mix chopped walnuts and raisins together. Fill apple cavities with mixture and put in shallow baking dish.
In small saucepan combine water, honey, and cinnamon stick. Place over medium heat and bring to a boil. Simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Remove cinnamon stick and pour syrup over apples in baking dish.

Place in preheated oven and bake uncovered for 45 minutes or until the apples are tender, basting occasionally. Remove from oven and cool to room temperature before serving.

Very sticky and nutty - just how I like my comfort food; next up: who knows?

My favorite places in Virginia...

I've been thinking a lot about Virginia lately. I'm originally from Virginia - born there, in Portsmouth - though I was raised in a little hamlet in Eastern North Carolina. I guess I've been missing the beach and my friends a lot. Not that I have legions of friends there; not that this is beach weather. But the beach is beautiful any time of year and my friends, though few, are a wonderful, funny, loyal little crew.

I haven't written a blog in awhile and that's not uncommon for me. I get sidetracked by life and it seems there is never enough time to do the things I want to do in the end. I don't want to be one of those people who, at the end of her life, has missed so much and has so many regrets. But I think that's just how it goes - we all miss so much. When I am not working, the writing hasn't come very easily - when I am working, all the things I want to write about come to my head...only to have me forget them as soon as I get home. I've been tired a lot lately, too. I do some journaling - almost daily - but it never makes it to an audience. I know I need an audience. I know I need to write more and post it - when I don't I find myself anxious and worrying about it. It's the same way I feel about living my life, though. When I'm not out doing things, I am fretting about missing sunlight, missing the push and pull of the world around me, missing experiences that I would eventually write about.

That's not what I meant this entry to be about, though. It was supposed to be about Virginia - and how much I missed it. I'm digressing as always. If you ever find yourself in Southeast Virginia - i.e., my Virginia - here are a few of my favorite places there. Check them out.

The Heritage Store
A.R.E
The Jewish Mother
NARO Cinema
Lambda Rising


I'll post again soon. I really think I will.