Remember that episode of Star Trek where after getting strange messages, Spock, McCoy and some of their colleagues are sent to study the remote Takunagi 4437 Quasar. It looks like a pulsating blob of multicolored cosmic jello. Once down on the ground, which is barren and strangely lacking in color or jiggly substances, they are seized by a band of Ganglion Cysts. Spock and crew are imprisoned and experiments are performed on them. One by one the men turn into Ganglion Cysts. Spock and McCoy are in dire straits! Their only hope of survival is if Captain Kirk can find the Ganglion lair and release them. Through deductive reasoning Kirk, Scotty and random dude almost reach them but then they also get caught. Kirk ends up strapped down on a table and is interrogated by a shapely red vixen who will later fall for him. As he slips into a sweaty haze he shouts to Spock to perform a mind meld to somehow convince the Ganglion Cysts to release them. This causes the Ganglion Cysts to get mad and suck the life out of the insignificant Trekkie. They are eventually freed after Kirk makes out with the female captor. We learn that they have all been effected by radioactive fallout from an explosion caused by the Klingons eons ago. She helps Kirk and friends to escape before they too morph into ganglion cysts. Already McCoy's hand is turning red and lumpy. They make it back to the Enterprise and go into the anti radiation super chamber. Safe at last. McCoy wears a sling. The other crew members that were "turned" were strangely left behind to perish.
Remember that one?
Of course not, I made it up. Pretty good considering I was never a big Star Trek fan.
I went and saw the hand doctor today about the nodule on my index finger. It is like a little ball bearing under the skin at the joint of my palm and index finger. It hurts when I grab things and is annoying.
I have a ganglion cyst.
Here was my train of thought- "Seriously? Isn't that something from Star Trek? Does it have anything to do with gangrene? Will they have to amputate my finger like Zsa Zsa gangrened leg? Can I plastinate it? Cyst? Tumor? Can it affect my brain? Is it like cancer?" I quietly nodded my head as if I knew JUST what he was talking about. "It is not a big deal at all, in fact it is very common." A Ganglion cyst is a mass that grows on the wrist of hand and are usually found at the joint or tendon sheaths. They are not malignant and have nothing to do with age or arthritis. I am relieved that my mileage is slightly better at this point. My auto trader value went up! Maybe I'm not a salvaged vehicle after all?
I ask what my options are.
I can either leave it and hope it goes away. Sometimes they do but mine felt particular tight so he thought it might not. Or I could get it surgically removed. Well what does that entail? His answer was "First we hit you over the head with a mallet...." I LIKE this guy. Basically it is a less then 10 minute procedure where they would knock me out briefly, cut it out, stitch it and wrap my hand like "a little bear paw" It would heal quickly and in 2 weeks I'd be basically back to grabbing door knobs without pain. My response to that was how long would it take the bump on my head to go away after being smacked with the mallet? We laughed. Refreshing when a doctor has a sense of humor.
So for the time being we are being conservative. I will give it a couple months to see if it goes away on its own. In the meantime they will run it through insurance and get all the pre-authorization etc. If it doesn't go away and continues to be a bother then I will go under the mallet and float around in outer space for 8 minutes. Hopefully I won't see Kirk there. Or I could just follow the advice of my father (A doctor) and hit it with a book really hard to rupture it. hmmmm....
I enjoy talking to people- most of the time- and am always curious about everyone's story. I am pretty intuitive about people. Though this morning at the diner we were at, I really had this feeling that I couldn't relate to ANYONE there- the trucker dude eating just cottage cheese, the lady who was so fat she needed a walker and the lady at the next table who looked like she had jumped out of the show "Big Love" and wanted the waitress to explain to her what honey wheat pancakes were. Call me a big ol' snob but really? Does she buy bread? Does she only buy white? Is it Wonder? Am I an idiot because I don't know what the Cinnamon Honey Fried Chicken on the menu is? I was able to talk openly about all these observations with my husband. We spoke in french and I, of course, assumed no one understood what we were saying. No one got mad so I think we were safe....
Today at Costco, as I swam amongst the sea of people scuttling around with their carts, I saw another group of people I could not relate to at all. Who ARE these people waiting for boxed orange chicken? And it is still in the microwave. And there are like 20 people standing in line. They watch with greedy faces as the lady pours a gooey brown MSG citrus sauce on the bready poultry pulp and mashes it around with a white plastic spoon. This is where I start to get all sanctimonious in my head. Do these people give a shit about what they are putting in their bellies? The sugar, the MSG, the 67 other ingredients that I can't pronounce nor understand. Do they feed this to their kids? Why am I fatter then some of them? Judgements were aflying around in my head like flies on a corpse. Does anyone just eat plain roast chicken with maybe some lemon thyme, salt and pepper?? Again, WHY am I fatter then some of these people? I eat fresh food! Would I be thinner if I ate scuzzy chicken lumps?
As I was leaving Costco I stopped in the eyeglass area to look for some new frames. I have been wearing my frames from 1991 because my newer ones were lost. My 1991 frames are SO dated and SO dorky. I'd love to hear the comments that strangers on the fashion police force are saying. "OMG those are the DUMBEST looking glasses ever!" "That girl must not have any friends because if she did, they wouldn't let her leave the house wearing those!" "Do you think she thinks those look good?" " OOOOO Those are SO retro!" yeah right. Back to Costco....I was looking at frames and oversaw...not overheard...a group of women trying to pick out some frames for their friend. It was a group of 4 deaf woman madly signing to each other the pros and cons of each frame. Being fascinated with people I watched them out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to look at frames for myself for a few minutes. When it was clear to me that they had no friggin clue which ones would look good I picked out a pair and handed it to them. I like to help and I usually can make good "design" decisions. They signed at me something that was either "Thank you" or " get the hell away from us creep" The girl tried them on and they were thumbs upping and nodding their heads with approval. I reached into the deep recesses of my brain and remembered some of the sign I learned with Lulu when she watched "Signing Time" (Which was an awesome show by the way) I thought I saw the sign for "goat" and "together." Hmm...I wonder what goats have to do with glasses? Should I sign to them about farm animals? Or do part of that "Fuck You" Cee Lo song that girl did in sign on that You Tube video? That video is awesome, by the way. Then they asked me what I thought of some other frames or at least I think they did because I gave them my opinion in my own version of sign language. Too heavy, too far from her face, I like horses, too much bling. One asked me did I think she needed to have one pair for work and one for going out? It was more- One-work, One- Fun? Sure. why not? So here I was in Costco "chatting" it up with a group of nice deaf women. I was finding that it wasn't so hard to understand them. I just had to pay attention. It was like cool charades. It was interesting to watch one of the ladies deciphering what I was saying and signing it to the others. And I was probably nodding like I knew what the fuck she was saying with her hands. It is amazing to me that there is a whole language that exists with just hand movements. How beautiful and cool. Does it cross every culture? Do hands move differently in other parts of the world so that they have a visual accent?? I also realized that when I did communicate with them I spoke very quietly. Why did I do that? Was it because they were silent? Do some people yell at them thinking that if they say it louder they can hear it? I had no bad judgments of these women. I liked them but I definitely classified them. Not as white or black, or fat or thin but just as "deaf". Because they essentially speak another language they are a "they". Strange- not sure why- but strange.
As I left I thought to myself that it was nice that I didn't limit myself to JUST lip flapping at strangers, I can after all say in sign language that there are horses, goats and chickens on the farm, that I like blue, flowers grow and Fuck you.
I am not getting any less judgemental but I am thinking more about my judgements and why I make/made them. And I forgave myself for thinking ill of the people waiting for microwaved orange chicken because, in my opinion, it is just gross.
Today I:
Walked to therapy in hopes of burning off some calories.
Straightened things out with my therapist. Back on track with her. I was really out to lunch when going off my Cymbalta. I am back on them. I am a drug addict. Shit.
Learned I need to be a better communicator when it comes to reaching out. I suck at it. I am used to people coming to me to solve things. I am a good problem solver.
I got angry at my therapist without giving her much of a clue as to was was going on. Totally not fair to her.
Understood the boundaries of the patient/therapist relationship. I have really needed someone who is there for me, that listens and supports me. I am lucky that I have friends who do this and a wonderful therapist I can crush on.
Wondered why my husband has not read my blog. Shouldn't he be supportive and "listen"? Are men more self centered then women? It would never occur to me to not read his if he had one....If I felt heard, supported and put first, things would definitely be better.
Worked on my taxes- no better time then the present. Get that shit outta the way. Get some money back!
Thought alot about how much it means to have some focus on me and just me for an hour.
Realized that I didn't really feel like writing today- thus the boring entry.
My daughter's Brownie troop is representing China for International Day. For this they have created a dragon head out of paper mache. One kid will hold the head while the others follow behind as the body- all them huddled and skipping along under a blanket of sequins and turquoise fabric. The head became a much larger project then they had imagined and it was looking a little, for lack of a better word, crappy.
I am the one people call when they want something to look better.
Need your living room rearranged? Call Susanna.
Need someone to decorate your cake? Call Susanna.
Need something hemmed? Call Susanna.
Need to paint and embellish a paper mache dragon head to make it look cool and fun for your dragon dance? Ah! NO problem! Call Susanna!
The mom who has spear headed the whole project can be a little difficult. She is incredibly devoted to her projecst and takes the level of seriousness up a notch more then most would. Admirable in some ways, alienating in others. She is somewhat strange in that she is different. She gets in your face when she talks to you because she is deaf with cochlear implants. Already this is off putting - not because she is deaf, but because unless you are incredibly near sighted you don't want someone less then about 18 inches from your face when they are talking to you. Her daughter had some issues in Kindergarten and no one wanted to play with her (Compounded by the fact that her mom is socially awkward) People would actually say "Watch out for them". So this woman- who I will call Dragon lady because I associated her with the dragon head and also because dragons are little misunderstood- at least that is what my book say... ;) -has a big label on her forehead that has caused everyone to run the other way.
I spent last Friday afternoon with her, the dragon head, my daughter and her daughters. I had no idea what to expect but I wasn't thrilled about it. It turned out that her daughters were both intelligent and sweet. They were respectful towards their mother and Lulu decided she liked the other girl. She actually came to our house and they played beautifully together. Something in my life was skewed because this just didn't make sense. I have heard nothing but bad things.
This week at Lulu's Brownie troop meeting I was back on Dragon duty. While at the meeting Dragon mom kept asking me to do things. "Go to my car and get this fabric""Cut this" "put more of this here..." etc. At one point I just stopped and looked at her. She paused and asked me what was wrong. I just said very matter of factly "You are being really bossy." She got very flustered and apologetic. The mother next to me was shocked and it occurred to me that I don't really filter much when I am talking to someone. I am brutally honest and have gotten to the point in my life (or during my midlife crisis) that I really don't care what people think. Why shouldn't I just say it if it is really bugging me? The mom next to me said "Only you could get away with saying that." My tone wasn't bitchy, it wasn't angry it was said almost more as an observation.
Today I got a call from Dragon mom. She told me that she really appreciated and liked my honesty. It was refreshing and she wanted to know why I thought she was being bossy so that she could learn from it. I thought that was pretty great. I was actually impressed that she was open enough to understand that I wasn't trying to insult her and that she actually wanted to not be that way and wanted to try to adjust her behavior. It would be so nice if we could all be like that. To be able to be honest and grow with one another and not get pissed about it. She has gotta know that people avoid her- it takes a lot of chutzpa to listen to feedback and try to change that. I gotta give her credit for that. I am terrible at negative feedback.
With my whole exercise of trying to be less judgemental I am trying to understand Dragon mom. I can see she is HIGHLY intelligent and that this can be alienating for her. I would even venture to say that she is socially awkward and that she, herself, doesn't filter much when she speaks. She has good intentions but her execution of things is a little wacky. She is unconventional. None of these are reasons to dislike her. She is actually interesting and intriguing. I might even have coffee with her sometime.
My lesson of the day- Be open. There is so much more to see and experience when you open your window a little more. You might be plesantly surprised by what is there.
My lesson for tomorrow- To figure out why "ONLY" I could get away with saying something directly to someone. What do I do that makes me "get away" with it. Dragon Mom didn't seem the least bit offended or angry when I said it. So was it in the delivery? Something to contemplate....
and for those of you interested in knowing more about dragons and other legendary creatures....B is for Bigfoot- a legendary abc is available on Amazon.com. Sorry but this was the PERFECT place to pitch it. ha.
She “gets” me and has really helped me sort out some deep-seated issues. I have faced things that I haven’t necessarily been able to face in the past. I have thought about things that I refused to contemplate. She has helped me see things in a more clear and rational way. She doesn’t stare at me and nod her head. She doesn’t look at me with pity, she doesn’t make me draw my own conclusions. She is actively involved in my dialogues.
I had an exceptional one before her- she also helped me through A LOT of shit. She helped me through the “panic era”. She taught me meditation. I felt like she saved my life. But I am not talking about THAT amazing therapist. I am talking about THIS one.
I look forward to seeing her every week. I feel understood and I feel better after I see her. I keep thinking that if I wasn’t her “patient” we would actually be friends. I could see hanging out with her laughing over a glass of wine about this and that. I had this whole fantasy of my new best friend.
Yeah…that is a big stupid mistake. I pay her to like me- to be interested and to care.
In one of my “darkest hours” (VERY DRAMATIC) of Cymbalta withdrawal, I emailed her. I was feeling a little desperate and freaked out. I couldn’t stop crying, my legs were all freaky and I couldn’t keep still- which was FANtastic with the plantar fasciatis. I felt like I was going to yak constantly, my brain was jiggly in my head and I couldn’t figure out what the fuck was going on. I had visions of my finger nodule being a tumor and I had cancer and it was taking over my brain. My thoughts went there because I could and because, well, one is NOT exactly rational when under deep Cymbalta withdrawal distress. I felt like I needed her calm voice to talk me down off of my cliff of despair. I needed to talk and figure out why I felt SO unhappy and hopeless.
POP
That was the sound of that bubble bursting
Amazing wonderful Therapist is not available. I felt like I was standing in the rain- cold and wet looking in a window at her drinking tea with someone much more entertaining then me and I wasn’t invited. Oh look they are laughing! But I need to laugh….Oh look the other more entertaining person looks so reassured and comforted. Hhhhhhhey……
I think I kind of had a girl crush on her. I am not gay but I can admit it. It is probably like how one crushes on a teacher or someone “of authority” who is helpful and kind. So the admiration aspect almost makes it worse. It all makes me feel so queer and not in the gay sense, but like the awesome word from the 70’s-80’s used to describe something that is just dumb and unconventional or as Webster so eloquently puts it “differing in some odd way from what is usual or normal”.
She has emailed me several times since Monday to let me know she was available on Wednesday at our normal time and then to see if I was available on Saturday when she didn’t hear back from me. I didn’t reply until today. SOOOO immature.
Did she worry? I don’t think so.
I was pissed because I felt rejected. I needed her and she wasn’t there. Are shrinks supposed to be there all the time or just on that one given day for that one given hour every week? What about the fact that I was having a withdrawal crisis (at least I (Bold and capital) thought so) or those other times that I am feeling particularly lost? Am I supposed to hold that thought until Saturday when it is more convenient?
So per usual, I took care of myself. I cried to Sam, I cried to Lisa, I cried to my pillow, the TV, Milo, the car steering wheel….. I remember vaguely in, my drug withdrawal haze, that I was able to STOP crying after seeing a guy walking on the boardwalk in a purple thong. My flawdar (a radar for flaws) went into bonky mode. And rather then spew out judgments for the sake of making ME feel better I looked at Lisa and said “He must feel really good about himself to walk around like that- I wish I felt that way about MYself.” I was amused and repulsed all at the same time and for a moment forgot that among other things, I felt rejected and blown off my beloved and beautiful Shrink,
So as it turns out- getting OFF antidepressants isn't such an easy thing. I thought "yeah, a few days...get it out of my system...maybe I'll feel bummed a little?" Uh wrrrrong.
I am getting visions of the movie "Trainspotting" where the main guy is vomiting and shivering and looks like crap as he is having withdrawal from heroin. I spent several days feeling like I was about to get the worst flu of my life. My head was spinny, I felt incredibly tired and worst of all, I thought I was going to vomit pretty much every 5 minutes. In fact, I was SO nauseous that I actually went to the pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. Thankfully, I am NOT knocked up but I have to say, for me, drug withdrawal feels quite like pregnancy so it isn't surprising that the thought went through my head. Need birth control? just talk to me about pregnancy. That should work.
So drug withdrawal. Does this all mean I am an addict? There is something about it all that seems very wrong. All I want to do is get off them and really FEEEEEEEL whats going on in my life. Make sure that I am not glossing over anything. It is about trying to take responsibility for me.
I originally went on antidepressants in 1997 because I was having panic attacks. I had just started my relationship, second go around, with Sam. My first panic attack happened when I was visiting Sam for the first time in Amherst, MA where he was living. We were in the car on the way from Amherst to the airport in Boston. I threw up all over his car. Sam gave me an ativan and I slept the whole flight back. I am pretty sure I wasn't depressed. I was just a little freaked out about being in what was very quickly becoming a serious relationship. The whole disability "Thing" was a hard pill to swallow and it was all happening so fast. Also, no one had really ever said they loved me and actually meant it.
The first psychopharmacologist I saw was a real, no REAL, asshole. He prescribed Zoloft and told me to take one before bed. He also gave me Ativan for my anxiety. At about 3 in the morning I woke up in a total terror. I was having a really horrible anxiety attack and I knew it was because of the meds. I called the doctor totally freaked out and he told me to take an ativan. It didn't calm me down, so I called him again. He told me to take another one. He just wanted freak out chick to leave him alone so he could sleep. Meanwhile I was up all night gnashing my teeth. Talk about Trainspotting.... I think I called him maybe 3 times. I never went back to him. I ended up with the doctor I have now who is awesome. I have tried many many antidepressants. Gained 15 pounds on Prozac, couldn't stay awake on Celexa, Serzone did Jack, Zoloft- well you've heard about Zoloft already, Elavil made me agitated. I ended up on a cocktail of Wellbutrin and Lexapro and then about a year ago switched from the lexapro to Cymbalta.
So here I am 14 years later wondering "Do I really need to be on these?" I think they have been incredibly helpful and pulled me through many difficulties. (My pregnancies being 2 of the big ones). 14 years later- I am 30 pounds heavier, don't have the energy I had before and thankfully don't have panic attacks so much anymore. Occasionally, but nothing I can't handle. I feel like the only way I will lose the weight is to get off of them. It also isn't such a joy to be mostly constipated from them, have NO libido and not sleep as well as I used to way back when.
So am I an addict if I don't want to take them but then when I stop I feel like I am going to end up in a pile vomiting on myself?
Did you know there is actually a name for antidepressant withdrawl? It is called "Discontinuation Syndrome and the symptoms include
"agitation, anxiety, akathisia,irritability, hostility, aggressiveness, worsening of mood, crying spells or mood lability, over activity or hyperactivity, decreased concentration, slowed thinking, confusion and memory/concentration difficulties. Some people report that supplementing the diet with Omega-3 Fish Oils alleviate some of the symptoms of withdrawal from SSRI's."
Wikipedia
I basically got all those- including akathisia- WTF is that? it is like having pins and needles in your legs, like not being able to stretch your legs, like needing to move them all the time but they feel sore and like you just want to stretch but that doesn't do anything. I went for a walk with my dear Lisa and I cried like a banshee for at least 2 miles of it. anything even slightly emotional made me cry. And the weird thing is with the Fish Oil thing. ALL I wanted to eat was raw Salmon. For about 4 days I had Salmon Sashimi from Mitsuwa for lunch and dinner. I craved it. That is bizarre. I swear I am NOT pregnant.
There is another name for the withdrawal- "Brain Zaps"- You get a wierd feeling in your head like you can almost feel your brain jiggling around in there. Not such a pleasant feeling. If you google withdrawal from Cymbalta it is a little alarming....
So....goal made 1-26-2011- To not be an addict of anything. (Within reason of course...obviously I NEED air and I NEED hugs from my kids)
How to do this? Get off my meds
How to do that? Beats the hell out of me- I am back on my meds BUT I am going in to see my doctor (Oi ANOTHER medical visit) first week of Febuary to come up with a more effective game plan.
Game on.
I feel like crap-
I am cold and I am coughing. I have no voice, which may or may not be a good thing. I am incredibly tired and the only thing I really did today- other then the usual cleaning and "stuff"- was paint and slightly embellish a paper-maché dragon head with some of the girls in my daughter's Brownie troop. But, hey, not everyone can say that they have done that.
And I still haven't bought a new pumice stone. Having a down day.
I love my kids with such passion. I never question it. It just is. Wouldn't it be amazing to be able to be that way about other things in life? But what? Does anybody ever feel as passionately about anything that ISN'T their kids? To be able to give freely and without expectation. To just be happy to do it. Is that what it is like to be a Buddhist monk? HOW do they do that? For me, pregnancy was an exercise in just being. Vomiting daily, up to 18 times once, herniating, wishing I would just die on occasion. Damn, I shoulda worn an orange robe- Possibly the closest I will ever get to going with the flow and just being, even if I was yaking and peeing on myself. Damn I was soooooo super sexy. Ugh. And I look pretty good in orange. The Yin and Yang of THAT situation was rather severe. I always believed that my kids were as good as my pregnancies were bad.
I like Buddhism. Having been raised without any god and the conviction that whatever happens is because I make it happen seems to sort of work with it. Being the master of one's own destiny and all that. I have also always loved the Tao te Ching. I used to read it often. It was a nice way of thought. A philosophy of sorts.
I think I should start reading it again. I found an element of peace in it. I don't have God, Jesus, Allah, Mohammad, Yaway etc to guide me, to lean on. Sometimes I wish I did but I just wasn't conditioned to believe in it. Unless some miracle happens it isn't likely to happen. It must be nice for people to have the belief that there is something/someone there who is going to fix things or make things better. Whatever happens for me is because I have to do it myself
Yes, I realize I am going to hell-I never understand that- Oh you don't believe in god- you are going to hell. OK, fine as long as I don't have to be where you are, you kind unjudgemental person(s)
I DO have faith in things but this has nothing to do with "faith". I believe that good things will happen- why shouldn't they? My blind faith has been a helpful ray of sunshine I can shine up my ass when I need to.
So what they hell am I writing about? How everything I do in my life for and with my children is totally out of love and unconditional and that there is a certain amount of peace in that. I can use more peace in my life. Buddhist monks seem to be at peace. I like orange and I don't believe in Jesus. But I DID have a boyfriend named Jesus years ago and we had great sex. I have blind faith and believe that everything will ultimately be fine. We ARE the masters of our destinies. For now, I just try to enjoy the moments- The smell and feel of the kids first thing in the morning when they are all smushy and warm. Nothing better.
And maybe in some free time I will start reading the Tao again. Try to figure out how to be more at peace with other things in my life. Or at least find more balance- I love the symbol of Yin/yang. I love the idea of metaphors such as "dropping a stone in a calm pool of water will simultaneously raise waves and lower troughs between them, and this alternation of high and low points in the water will radiate outward until the movement dissipates and the pool is calm once more. Yin and yang are thus are always opposite and equal qualities" (Wikipedia)
I am going to try to find more peace by achieving better balance in my life. I still haven't figured out what that means but I'm doing it. Standing tall and bending with the wind.
This week, for the sake of trying to lose weight, I have tried to cut out bread. I LOVE bread. A crusty warm bread is one of my favorite things on the planet. Slather it with butter and jam and I am in heaven. SO unfair that the things that are the yummiest are the things that one must "sacrifice" for the joy of a smaller waistline.
I am SUCH a good dieter. Everyone should aspire to be as disciplined as me. With all the bread I am not eating I should lose LOTS of weight.
My "menu" from today.
Breakfast: egg whites and pea shoots with sprinkle of mozzarella cheese, Green tea.
Snack: a handful of pecans, apple, ice tea- no sugar.
Lunch: Lentils and rice
Snack: 1/3 box of cookies.
Cocktail: Fresh lemonade with cucumber and mint.....with a splash of vodka
Snack: handful of pretzels and some chocolate (dark- healthy right?)
Dinner: Turkey Tacos, black beans, salad
After dinner: going out with "the girls"- more cocktails.
Luckily, I am going out so the ice cream won't be able to beckon me. Evil, evil ice cream.
See...no bread....damn, I am so good.
I have NO ability what-so-ever to say no to sugar. I can try to subtract that from my life next week....I am already depressed....
For those of you STILL enjoying bread- My favorite recipe comes from Jim Lahey's "My Bread". This requires a heavy La Crueset type of pot to bake the bread in. Take the plastic knob off the top so it doesn't melt.
3 cups flour
1 1/4 teaspoons of salt
1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
1 1/3 cups water
Mix 1st 3 ingredients. Add water and mix until wet and sticky- about 30 seconds to a minute. If it isn't super sticky add a little more water- I usually do.
Cover with a tea towel or plastic wrap and let it sit for up to 24 hours/ until it is twice the size. The key to the flavor is the slow ferment...
When first ferment is done, dust work surface with flour and scrape dough out in one piece. With floury hands fold edges to center, so that you have folded it in 4 places. Tuck edges to make it round and place on generously floured tea towel. (I like to use wheat germ)- Fold the towel loosely over the dough.
Let rise for 1-2 hours. It is ready when it has doubled in size.
Half an hour before the second rise is done preheat the oven to 475 with the rack on the lower third of the oven. Put in your heavy pot
Using pot holders (duh) take out the preheated pot and remove cover. Unfold the tea towel, pick up the dough and gently invert it into the pot. I almost always miss slightly and gently shape it with a chopstick.
Cover the pot, put bake in the oven and bake for 30 minutes.
Remove the lid and bake for about 20 minutes or more depending on how dark you like it to be.
Remove bread from pot and p[lace on a rack to cool completely. The bread will still cook and will crack and snap at you. Lahey calls it singing.
And there you have it. The best friggin bread in the states. Don't bother using whole wheat flour- it changes the texture and makes it less chewy and perfect.
$18 for a box of Nighttime Pull-ups. Throw it in the cart!
$165 for groceries! ok, whatever. eeks
$6.59 for a pumice stone. ooooo...maybe later....that is a little pricey.
Yes, I could get one for 2 bucks.
I could also get the one for $12.
I like the one that is $6.59.
Simple, Oval, Lite Grey. Natural looking.
Ridiculous that I am even contemplating the shape of a foot slougher and how it relates to my happiness.
Even more ridiculous is that I am living with same disgusting one I have had for maybe 4 years. One side of it looks OK. That is the side one would see if they should happen to venture into my very pretty shower. The other side has some scary funk on it. That is the side I don't use and wrinkle my nose at every time I see it. I hate scum and any other dirt in my "bathing area". A rogue unknown hair is enough to make me Soft Scrub the bathroom. It is perplexing that I put up with scary black crud on my pumice.
Do I not feel I deserve better?
Self Judgement- Freak.
The point of this - Here is a very simple way I could do something nice for myself. For under $10. I frequently look at the damn pumice stones at the stores and think "Oh I really need one!....ewww $6.59...too much." I mean what the fuck? I go out and spend more on a glass of wine that I will just pee out eventually anyway.
Obviously, one of the things I need to change is my inability to be kind to me. I buy little things for Sam and the kids all the time.
So life adjustment thought of the day: Be nicer to self. This is a thought I need to repeat several times a day. Nobody deserves a grody rock in their shower.
Part of recovering my lost marbles means learning how to deal with my kids. Don't get me wrong, they are good kids....no great kids, but sometimes they just make me crazy. It is SO hard not to completely blow a gasket. Today, for instance, I was at Sports Chalet with Sam and the kids. We needed to get a watch/stopwatch for Sam and they had some good ones on sale. While Sam is paying for his fancy new watch, I peruse the nearby racks marked "Clearance". Anyone who knows me KNOWS there is no way I can walk by a clearance rack and NOT take a look. Anyway, as I was sliding hangers this way and that, BOTH Oliver and Lulu ran up behind me, pushed me and sent me flying and falling into the rack.
This is after a day of "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, MOMMY! Mommy, Mommy" then jump on Mommy even after she says "Yes" because somehow "Yes" isn't YES unless it is followed by their name. "MOOOOOOMMYYYY" in my ear. And this was the nice part of the day- I won't get into trying to get them to clean up their room which had been ravaged by Hurricane Oliluluver or Oliver refusing to eat lunch and demanding dessert at a restaurant, or Lulu insisting we have ham and that we are just really bad at looking .....I don't know what is up with my children lately but they have been quite unpleasant.
My assignment to myself is:
1. Learn how to effectively communicate with my kids so that they actually listen to me. If they do not listen to me, try not freak out and pull my hair out. Hopefully I will not be bald in 2012.
2. Learn how to breathe and take a moment when all my buttons are punched at the same time. Calm down, be rational. It is better not to speak in tongues at them because they really don't understand.
3. Try not to take everything they say personally. Remind self that they are little. They really don't know what the fuck they are saying half the time. "I hate you" doesn't really mean "I hate you" it just means they really don't like me for the moment that I am not letting them have their way. 30 seconds later they have moved on.
4. Learn from my kids that after 30 seconds, one should just move on. Forget it- there is so much more to think about and do!
5. Try not to let other annoyances during the day taint my time with my kids or effect how I treat them.
6. Take more time for myself away from the kids so that I am less burnt out and therefore a better mom.
7. Positive feedback for positive behavior. Try to pay attention to the good behavior more then to the bad.
8. See number 4.
Maybe I'll add to this list but for now these are the things I am focusing on. There will be blogs to follow describing my advances.
Notice how I didn't write failures? I am being positive! Blowing sunshine up my own butt.
Game on! (Sounds better then "assignment").
Little clear spheres full of color and swirls, corkscrews and eyes, rolling and clinking as I fling you with my thumb, may I find you so that we may have another match. As with many children's games, new rules will be devised all the time, and each "assignment" may have it's own version that might be customized to the emotional environment at the time.
I draw my circle in the sand so the new game may commence. Bring it (my) baby(beez)
Today was one of THOSE kinds of days. I had moments where I wanted to drop the kids off at the nearest animal shelter, then other moments where I thought maybe I should just eat them. I imagined those insect videos where the praying mantis is gorging on little legs. It was one of those days where they test every inch of my patience, and I am not a particularly patient person, especially when I am on dreaded day 15 of my cycle AND on half the amount of my antidepressants. I just don't understand WHY they have to be SO impossible sometimes. Not listening, screaming, hitting each other, lying, etc. For me, it feels like a perverse exercise in sainthood.
Coaxing Lulu to do something she doesn't want to do is not unlike trying to get a rock to float. I spent many exacerbating minutes trying to get her to take a free karate lesson this morning. She didn't want to do it even though 5 minutes ago she did. She said it was too much work, it was boring, she wanted to go home. The instructor came outside and tried to cajole her into coming inside. She was such an unbelievable brat that I almost cried. Parents were looking at her. Kids were looking at her. I was friggin' mortified. I told her she wouldn't get to go to the birthday party this afternoon that she was invited to, I told her she would lose ALL her points on her point chart, I told her I'd take away her American Girl doll. FINALLY she went in and she had a good time. I knew she would. Am I a bad mom for making her do it? The instrustor said she liked that I was so firm with her.
As I sat in the chair in the waiting room as Lulu punched and kicked with glee I noticed a quote up on the wall.
"Character is best formed in the stormy billows of the world"- Goethe
This was to be my motto of the day. Do I really need more character?
As my children's moods seemingly undulate, one moment sweet and smiling, the next demonic and trying I am imagining all the character I am forming.
Damn I got me some serious character today.
A few months ago, on a day hot enough to make me recoil at the idea of wearing closed shoes, I wore my MBT sandals rather then my sneakers for my walk/jog . Occasionally when I am circling the track I like to sprint a bit. Warning to all who own these or similar shoes. DO NOT run in them. EVER. I ran about 7.8 seconds and realized something wasn't quite right. It friggin' hurts and as far as exercise and losing those unwanted pounds, you can kiss that shit goodbye.
Thus began my adventure with my arches that want to collapse. After about 2 weeks of thinking it would get better, I decided I needed an expert. I got a recommendation from a dear friend, called the practice and took the first available appointment with one of the doctors. I didn't expect to be slightly unnerved by how handsome he was as I presented my chipped pink toenails and cracked heels. I know I am married but that doesn't mean I should look like I just don't give a damn. And eventhough I am married it doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view- right?
Now the problem with going there is that I actually get self conscious about my feet. Are they dry? Do I need to paint my toe nails? When he has me walk around in my newly adjusted orthotics is he only looking at my feet? Do I need to wear something flattering so my ass doesn't look fat?
Another mom at Lulu's school recently told me about her Hot Gynecologist. My thought on this is "fucking hell." It's one thing to get your feet checked out - it is another thing all together to have your hoohaw cranked open and then have it prodded, swabbed and inspected by someone you find attractive and who's reason for prodding and inspecting has everything to do with making sure nothing is abnormal down there. I can't EVEN imagine the routine that happens at home before going to Hot Gyno. And then lying there with your feet in stirrups with all your glory in his face. You could have some total fantasy going on in your mind and then he informs you that there is something there that isn't supposed to be there and it has nothing to do with him or HIS body parts. Ack...I cringe, I cringe! A babe of a podiatrist is about as much as I can take!
On Tuesday, I went for a splendid walk on the beach with a friend. This was the first beach walk in a while. I LOVE these walks. These walks are almost sacred to me. During the walk I felt fine and I was SO excited to finally be out there again with said dear friend. The next day, however, my feet hurt. Alot.
Today I went in to see Cute Podiatrist because number 1. my feet hurt and number 2. Shouldn't my ridiculously expensive orthotics be taking care of this?
Cute Podiatrist asked me if I could tell him about the pain and all I could think of was "You know how in the Little Mermaid when she loses her tail and gets feet and every step hurts? It's kinda like that." I know, cringe. I quickly add, in hopes of saving face, that I am currently reading that story to my daughter. At least I am wearing nailpolish and my feet were freshly moisterized and pumiced.
Cute Podiatrist thinks I should have blood work done to rule out rheumatoid arthritis. Seriously? I thought I might cry but I decided it better to "play it cool" lest Cute Podiatrist think ill of me. I told him it made me feel old but he was diplomatic and said my feet had just been through alot. I wondered if it would help if I lost some weight? Of course he says. Does this mean he WANTS me to lose weight? Does he think I am fat? Does he give a rat's ass? I said that I wanted "happy, dancey, hoppy, climby feet" and he promised he would do what he could as he smiled with those insanely blue eyes. Too bad I don't have a foot fetish- I might suggest he suck my toes.
As I sat in the waiting room of the doctors office, a woman's cell phone rang like a new age fusion jazz muzak with rain forest birds overlaid on it. She proceeded to ramble in what I think was Hebrew.
Judgement: WHAT the fuck of a kind of ring was that? Beyond that it was such a strange ring that my brain seems to have actually shut down for a moment. Then I start to wonder where does one find such a ring?
Two seconds later a heavy set latino man's cell phone starts to ring. His phone rang to the twinkly tune of Für Elise.
Judgment: Huh....Beethoven. Wouldn't have thought that.
I am noticing that because of this blog I am seeing things a little differently. I am actually trying to be less judgmental. My eyes are a little more open and I am finding that things in life, things "out there" are bizarre. So many funny things happen, so many things that can give one pause to smile. Wondering why I didn't really digest those things before. I am finding that as I try to take these things in for the purpose of trying to figure out what pieces of my life are meaningful or symbolic, I am enjoying the day more. I am trying to see the positive and I am feeling more dancey and hoppy.
I am feeling like maybe I DID climb out of the turbulent seas and am now trying to walk with both feet on the solid ground for the first time in a while. I am glad that I have Cute Podiatrist to make sure my feet don't hurt too much and I am really glad that there aren't stirrups on his chairs! And, and this is a stretch, maybe Cute Podiatrist knew EXACTLY what I meant when I was talking about the Little Mermaid. or not.
Today I made my way over to Target to get my son some Pull-ups, get some toothbrushes, some cleaning supplies and a birthday present for one of Lulu's schoolmates that I have never met OR heard of. As I perused the toy aisles, I came across 3, yes THREE, aisles of clearance toys marked down to ridiculous prices. Being budget minded, my brain immediately goes into a whirl- OMG! I can stock up on toys and then I won't have to go shopping for the rest of the year to buy birthday presents for all the kids' friends! Legos! Megablocks! Ironman, Batman, more Legos, fancy Barbies that aren't actually Barbies! Wait- Zhu-Zhu pet accessories! Kids love Zhu Zhu pets- I'll get one for Emily, Lulu's school mate that I have never met OR heard of! I find myself spending an inordinate amount of time looking through EVERYTHING- making sure I get that killer deal on all my toy needs that I don't really need.
My cart is full of boxes.
Check THIS out- It WAS $29.99- NOW it's $6.98. Whoever gets this is gonna be llllllucky. My kids will be the kids that give ggggggood presents. Little will anyone know that I am actually a cheapskate- so much so that I don't tip those people behind counters who stand there, ring you up and expect a tip. (WHAT is that?)
I am feeling proud of myself.
Up the aisle comes a mom and her friend. In the front of the cart is her son with absurdly short hair and glasses. They too are scanning the toys. I'm thinking to myself that this mom is not gonna get out of here easily. That is until her son exclaims- "This is all just plastic garbage!" I am feeling a little stupid now with my cart full of "garbage" but I just look at her, smile and say "You have him trained well! How old is he?" Turns out he is 4. I hear him babbling about Lincoln Logs as they meander off.
My judgement: Beyond his stupid haircut, he probably loves his stir fried veggies and seitan (is there a reason that it is a homophone for Satan?)and that kid has NEVER watched TV. Is this bad? No, but is it good?
I scoot with my cart of garbage and go to the next aisle. There is an elderly couple looking for a gift. The guy asks "Honey, who is Nai-Hao Kai Lan?" (His "honey" is asian) "Honey" appears annoyed "WHY would anyone want something that is called hello broccoli????" I start to laugh and they glare at me. Moving right along.
My judgment: Fuckers. What did I do? Is it illegal to eavesdrop when you are 3 feet away from me? Geez.
I make my way to the check out with my cheap garbage, passing the kid's section where I pick out a cute bathing suit for Lulu that she doesn't need.
When I go to pick up Lulu today at school she introduces me to Emily. Emily is EXTREMELY polite- I am impressed. Emily shakes my hand but never looks at me.
She informs me that she and Lulu were discussing her birthday and what she is really "hoping" for is a journal.
A journal? really?
I ask her if she likes Zhu Zhu pets. She shakes her head. "I would REALLY like a journal. I need to go now. It was very nice to meet you, I hope you have a nice afternoon. See you soon!" She really said this. Apparently Emily is ALSO a well trained child except throughout the whole encounter she never looks at me.
My Judgment: Very polite but the not looking thing is disconcerting...kinda geeky- HOW is it that she and Lulu are friends? I'm confused.
I'm also thinking I don't like her very much at that moment (but just at that moment) because NOW I have to go shopping AGAIN even though I thought I had it covered for the rest of the year. Apparently, I was wrong. Another mom who was 3 feet away and eavesdropping told me where I could find JUST the right journal AND on sale.
Hello Broccoli!
I thanked her for the tip, all the while thinking I really don't want to go to the mall, but at least NOW I know what little girls who aren't Lulu want for their 8th birthday and my closet is full of plastic garbage.
So today 1-13-11- I am recording SOME of my daily judgments.
Why do I always have to think negatively? How can I change this? How can I be more accepting of people?
I bought some junk and am wondering what exactly I am teaching my children about "stuff". I know that is a general term but it suits my needs.... I also question my ability to instill in my children good manners. I was so impressed with these smart strange children today. Maybe not so negative after all.
Things to do today-
Take down the friggin Christmas lights- which means moving the picnic table to the side of the house, setting up the ladder ON TOP of the table, climbing onto the roof and taking the lights off. And while I am up there- yearly cleaning of the skylights...
Take Oliver to the park.
Give Milo a bath.
I have been telling myself for a long time that I should give Milo a bath. Milo is a cat that adopted us after his owners got a wolf hybrid and moved to Sacramento. If you you pet him near his tail he will scratch you. Sometimes he even hisses. Milo is an outdoor cat who has discovered interiors are sometimes better then exteriors. I am not much of a cat person and don't like them in my house but Milo is pretty cool and so if he is going to be in my house he could at least be cleaner. So instead of just thinking about it, I picked him up and put him in the kitchen sink. The worst that would happen is he would jump out of the sink and hightail it outside. I expected a little bit of a fight- but Milo just sat there. I got him wet, shampooed him with kid shampoo (can I do that?) and rinsed him. I washed his head, his belly, his tail. and he just sat there. Not very cat like. So should this be a 1-12-11 message from the heavens? Can I read into this?
Milo is a cat and cats hate water. He should get all bent out of shape and freak out. But he was very Zen about it- he took it, then shook "it" off and sat in the sun to dry.
So I am a mom and moms hate chaos. I get bent out of shape when my kids don't listen or behave. Can Milo teach me that I can be Zen about it, shake it off and move on?
Can he teach me that a terrible situation may end up being completely benign?
My thyroid nodule, by the way, is also benign. 1.44 cm big. The national standard for the danger light to start flashing red is 1 cm. The ultrasound showed that the nodule is clear and webby which is apparently a good thing. According to the doctor -not worth sticking a needle into my neck.
What I don't get is how my thyroid function can be "normal" with some nodule on it.
So last year ssssssucked as far as years go. Too much shit and I'll bore myself and, perhaps, you if I go into it. This seems like the proper time for a midlife crisis and a good time to share my journey out of it.
I am creative, curious, have a thought or two in my head that lead me to believe that I am kind of smart though my punctuation might indicate otherwise.....I am a problem solver, think logically, have WAY too much blind faith, definitely too judgmental (especially of myself), I like to cook, do "crafts" of pretty much any nature, am a certified interior designer, was a set decorator, like gardening, writing, have a GPS in my head somewhere that lets me find any milieu with the greatest of ease, and MOST importantly I am a mother of two amazing children. I am a "homemaker". Somewhere along the way I stopped being very much fun and life seems to have gotten the better of me. That was...or IS until now-1-11 and my desire to share this journey on 1-11-11. January 11th doesn't hold any significance other then that there are a bunch of people who celebrate their birthday today, none of who I know, 1-11-11 is a kinda cool numeric date which I actually JUST figured out (maybe I'm NOT so smart) and a friend of mine is having a cocktail party tonight which I can't go too because I have two small kids who have school tomorrow and well, "we" just don't do that. snore. Somewhere along the way this last decade, I am not fun anymore. And this, my pretend friends who I pretend are many and are reading this, is gonna change. This year I am finding myself again.
What does this mean? Well- it means figuring out how to be happier so that I REALLY enjoy these years with my little ones. It means having fun with my husband like we used to. It means putting my creativity to use in a positive way that benefits me and my family and maybe even results in some income. It means redoing my garage- making an art space for me in which to channel my creativity, it means losing 20 to 25 pounds and not feeling ugly anymore. It means getting back to the point where Susanna actually feels like jumping up on a table and lip syncing a Disco tune and feel not at all self conscious about it. It means doing the "Someday I want to" things today. It means other things too but I haven't thought of them yet. They will come to me when I am in the car picking up the kids.
Step One? TAKE BETTER CARE OF MYSELF
I went and got a full physical.
Oi.
Referral to get a nodule on my thyroid biopsied, cholesterol levels too high- need to go on meds for that, 2 hernias (result of vomiting for ENTIRE pregnancies), gastro doctor referral for left-sided abdominal pain upon prodding at me, referral to ortho for mystery bump in pointer finger. Doctor is happy that I am already getting physical therapy for my arches, afflicted with plantar fasciatis. Eyebrows were raised when I told her I smoked pot when I get migraines. She wants me to talk to my psychopharmacologist about my anti depressants because I have gained so much weight and perhaps I should try keeping the calories to 1400 a day. And on the way out I am handed a jar so I can deliver a stool sample to make sure I don't have parasites. All I can think is "what the fuck" and then when I DO deliver said stool sample the guy behind the desk says "Awesome! Thanks!" Yeah whatever Mr. Scatophile.
I am feeling like a car with too many miles. I would look BAD in the auto trader. ugh...people would expect some great deal and hope that I don't conk out after a week. I am feeling old and it's 2 days before New Years.
For New Years I do something crazy, at least crazy for mid life crisis me. I LEAVE the kids (with our moms) for 3 days and go to Vegas with my husband. I haven't really been out in oh.....10 years? I have NEVER left my kids overnight. It is like my 21st birthday. Green Tea martinis, Dark and Stormys, Cosmos, some gross pink lemony thing that I drink because it's pretty and free. I stay up until 3:30. I chat up Chris Martin from Coldplay. I laugh and dance like there is no tomorrow and think WHO is this person and why do I kinda like her? I start the New Year off feeling kinda fabulous- though hungover.
