Category Archives: music

Tumbleweeds

An assort­ment of things in my head right now…

I am enjoy­ing the new/old chair with the fancy uphol­stered seat my friend L. re-cycled to me after get­ting a new din­ing set. It’s just the right height and depth for sit­ting at the table with my legs up on the chair across from me, while I blog and write away.

Tulips are the lol­lipops of the flower world. Either that, or ger­bera daisies. But tulips in Boston are bloom­ing, and the yards are full of lollipops.

Water, Emergen-C, Yogi Tea’s peach detox tea, sports drink. Pee, rinse, repeat.

Down­loaded the new NIN album, free online at their site. It’s awe­some– I lurve Trent Reznor.

The lady at the gro­cery store with the scream­ing, ear-infected infant who took time out of her busy day to cas­ti­gate me for my made-in-China chi­nese mary janes, dec­o­rated with cute neon but­tons by lit­tle old moi, didn’t like it when I asked her back, “do you under­stand the car­bon impact of bring­ing another human into the world?” I like kids, really, but when you’re tot­ing yours in a $1000 stroller? Holier-than-thou 0– sar­casm 1.

Had a won­der­ful mas­sage last night with lots of lymph drainage work. I am a snotty mess this morn­ing, but I feel worlds bet­ter on the with­drawal end of things. Almost like myself, just with a toxin-release-induced cold. I’ll take it. Why isn’t mas­sage pre­scribed for every bipo­lar in drug tox­i­c­ity with­drawal? It should be a stan­dard of care. I will ask my doc­tor Friday.

But you know that you’re toxic

I upped my meds to 1500 mg. two weeks ago. The first week, I had the usual onset of my “usual” side effects– nau­sea, a heavy, woozy head, more shakes, a bit of a headache, “the runs,” (more like “the sprints”). But yes­ter­day, my headache was crush­ing, I had a nau­seous lump in my throat to com­pete with Ply­mouth Rock, and I may as well have set up my com­puter in a bath­room stall. I was on inti­mate terms with the floor tiles. Tak­ing to heart the cau­tions of all you excel­lent bipo­lar blog­gers and bipo­lar care­givers out there, includ­ing Mike and Sara and Thor­dora and Just Me, I called my shrink and told her I thought I might be begin­ning a toxic reac­tion. I got to the lab this morn­ing, had a fast­ing draw, and sure enough I was just start the Toxic Creep– 1.02, instead of some­where in the .7–1.0 range. I ditched the extra pill tonight, and went back to 1200 mg. My doc­tor wanted to know how I’d so quickly iden­ti­fied the tox­i­c­ity, and I said– “besides being a hypochon­driac nerd who researches every new symp­tom, bipo­lar blog­gers write a lot about side effects.” She actu­ally asked me to send her some links.

Here’s a lit­tle pop candy thank you to the bipo­lar blog­gers in teh Webz:

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=nOdCEHhrtSg]

Where have I been all my life?

I am about to admit some­thing shock­ing. Until this week, I did not have an mp3 player. Nope. No iPod, no Zune, no Aiwa mp3 player. Zilch, nada, zip. But then, then, my cell phone gave up the ghost. After two years of being dropped on pave­ment, in toi­lets, and on hard­wood floors, the speaker and the num­ber 6 gave way. (6? Yeah, I don’t know why that one, either.) It also had a bat­tery life of –2 min­utes. It was a bat­tery vam­pire. For­tu­nately, I’m the “account holder” on our cell con­tract, so I had lots of options for my “upgrade” phone, free with renewal. There were phones with qwerty key­pads, phones with cam­eras bet­ter than my cur­rent one, phones with enough fea­tures to launch missiles.

Since the BH and I are both txtng lud­dites, and since my dad is also unlikely to become a txtng mnstr at age 66, we have a voice cen­tered plan. (u pay thru nose 4 txts.) I there­fore elim­i­nated all the qwerty key­boarded phones. I like my cam­era as it is, so no megapix­e­lated cameraphone.

So… after way too much ago­niz­ing and head scratch­ing, I chose a Sam­sung Juke. It’s teeny, it comes in pretty col­ors (I got RED), and it’s a music player. Ever since the end of the cassette-walkman rev­o­lu­tion, I have been music-less in my goings-about. But walk­ing to work from the T sta­tion these past few weeks, I was reminded that you can’t walk suc­cess­fully and accident-free while read­ing. (OK, maybe it’s just me…) And at 8am, I am not return­ing phone calls, as I might on my way home after work.

This morn­ing, I was over­come with joy to hear Paul Simon’s “Late in the Evening” as I got off the train and started walk­ing to work. That horn sec­tion in the mid­dle really added a spring to my step. And… it’s pretty, and small (half the width of a pack of cards), and sparkly, and all the kids I’m work­ing with on this project I’m on were all impressed. And did you know it cures can­cer? And causes its bearer to lose 40 pounds?

BLC: enter­ing the 20th cen­tury, only 8 years into the 21st.

A few (more) of my favorite things…

Mrs. G, chez Der­fwad Manor, has dared me to post about a few of my favorite things, it being Fri­day, and favorite being allit­er­a­tive with Fri­day and all… I’ve already posted this week about par­tic­u­lar books and music and traits of friends, so here are some Genre favorites.

1. Non­fic­tion books about Stuff, not so much about Peo­ple. Salt. Mauve. Uncom­mon Car­ri­ers. The Piano Shop on the Left Bank. Non­fic­tion is so much more inter­est­ing to me if it’s fil­tered through the lens of one par­tic­u­lar thing, and then the movers and shak­ers around that thing are dis­cussed as a corol­lary. Mark Kurlan­sky, Simon Win­ches­ter, and John McPhee are par­tic­u­lar favorites.

2. Food and cook­ing. Duh. I am actu­ally tak­ing my first offi­cial cook­ing class on Dec. 1, because I hate most kinds of fish, and Helen over at Beyond Salmon is teach­ing a class that (I hope) might actu­ally make me like fish more.

3. Any movie with Steve Mar­tin, prefer­ably come­dies. But espe­cially My Blue Heaven. “You are gonna melt all … dis… stuff.…” Sigh.

4. Wine. Really, I’ll drink pretty much any­thing, as long as it’s not too tan­nic– so, no Cal­i­for­nia Caber­nets, Super Tus­cans, or Cal­i­for­nia Chardon­nays. Oth­er­wise, pour it out and get me a bendy straw! I like this site for new ideas, but I do also sub­scribe to Food & Wine. Lest you think I am a wicked wine snob, though, $15 is pretty much my max­i­mum price point, and my favorite red, Abrazo Del Toro Ris­erva, is $6.00 at Trader Joe’s. But if you serve me expen­sive wine, no wor­ries, I’ll drink that too.

5. Metal, hair metal, and grunge metal of the late 80s and early 90s. GnR is my absolute fave, but Bon Jovi is a close sec­ond. Queen­sryche? Def Lep­ard? Whites­nake? Yep. Seen ‘em all in con­cert, had the t-shirts, lit the lighter. Metal­lica? Van Halen? Nine Inch Nails? Rage Against the Machine? Nir­vana? Soundgar­den? Them too. I am such a met­al­head that I own the Audioslave and Vel­vet Revolver albums, cre­ated by refugees of many of the afore­men­tioned groups. I can also prob­a­bly sing along with every Mot­ley Crue and Poi­son song issued between 1987 and 1994. The pot-fueled week­end argu­ments among my crowd (the National Honor Soci­ety, smok­ing weed in someone’s base­ment) was usu­ally David Lee Roth v. Sammy Hagar, a bat­tle for the ages, prob­a­bly even more epic than Jesus v. Santa Claus.

And no, I am not going to tell you who I like bet­ter. It’d be like ask­ing me to pick between my chil­dren. I love them both, in dif­fer­ent ways.

Forty-eight things

Andrea, at Fret­ting the Small Stuff, tagged me for an 8 things meme. So, here goes…

8 things I am pas­sion­ate about

1. My Bet­ter Half. He taught me how to really love.
2. Find­ing some­thing to laugh at every day.
3. Cook­ing for peo­ple I love.
4. Eat­ing food that’s been cooked for me, as an expres­sion of love by a loved one, or as an expres­sion of self love. (I take myself out to eat when the BH is oth­er­wise occu­pied.)
5. Chil­dren grow­ing up poor.
6. Hon­esty. I don’t care if you messed up. Just admit it, and I will for­give you. Lie to me, and I may not.
7. Read­ing. Can’t get enough. Books, blogs, news­pa­pers, cereal boxes. What­ever, really.
8. Me time. I love my fam­ily, I love my Bet­ter Half. But I over­stim­u­late, and then I need to be alone. Inter­rupt my me time, and you get a mean BLC.

8 things I want to do before I die

1. Go to Paris again with the Bet­ter Half.
2. Be pub­lished, as an essay­ist, colum­nist, or poet.
3. Have some­one famous appre­ci­ate my cook­ing.
4. For­give myself and oth­ers and find con­tent­ment.
5. Take a cook­ing class with a cook­ing lumi­nary, like Jacques Pepin.
6. See New Zealand.
7. Spend some time with a kitty (My Kitty), who sits on my chest and purrs as I read a paper­back with one hand, and pet him/her with the other.
8. Spend a year with­out wor­ry­ing about work in the mid­dle of the night.

8 things I say often

1. “Voice mail, please.” I hate the phone at work.
2. “Tell me how you really feel.” I am not sar­cas­tic. No, not at all.
3. “I love you.” To my Bet­ter Half, all the time. Since my Mom’s recent break­down, my brother now says it to me, and I say it back. It’s amaz­ing– we haven’t really talked for years, and now it’s all bet­ter, all of a sud­den.
4. “Are you busy for lunch?” I try to get out of the office at lunchtime, to catch up with my cowork­ers and do a lit­tle breath­ing.
5. “How are you?” I really want to know.
6. The f-word, in all its vari­a­tions. Lawyers all swear a lot, but I seem to pep­per my con­ver­sa­tion with the f-word very lib­er­ally.
7. “Jack­ass.” Usu­ally while in my car.
8. (The silent look of disappointment/disapproval, over the top of my glasses.)

8 books I’ve recently read

1. The Blue Sword, Robin McKin­ley (a con­stant re-read)
2. The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pol­lan
3. Selected Poems, Vol. 1, Mary Oliver
4. The Gift of South­ern Cook­ing, Edna Lewis & Scott Pea­cock (soup chap­ter)
5. The Sec­ond Child, Deb­o­rah Gar­ri­son
6. Jesus and Bud­dha, Thich Naht Hanh (another re-read)
7. The End of the Alpha­bet, C.S. Richard­son (still work­ing on it, actu­ally)
8. The Oxford Ency­clo­pe­dia of Food, Alan David­son (selected entries)

8 things I could lis­ten to over & again

1. Mozart’s Requiem
2. “Mr. Brown­stone,” Guns n’ Roses
3. any­thing by the Beastie Boys
4. “The Impres­sion that I Get,” The Mighty Mighty Bos­stones
5. “Ghosts are Good Com­pany,” Bishop Allen
6. “Some­thin’ Extra,” Car­rie Rodriguez & Chip Tay­lor
7. “Hurt,” Nine Inch Nails
8. “Sweet Baby James,” James Taylor

8 things that attract me to my best friends

1. Hon­esty, even if it means telling me some­thing I won’t like.
2. A sense of humor.
3. An appre­ci­a­tion of my cook­ing.
4. Self-awareness.
5. A will­ing­ness not to scream and cover their eyes when I drive. (Fine, you try dri­ving with the Bet­ter Half.)
6. Curios­ity about the world.
7. An appre­ci­a­tion for wine-induced laugh­ter.
8. An appre­ci­a­tion for the Bet­ter Half. Love my spouse, love me. Not the other way around.

I’m not going to tag any­one, but I’d be inter­ested in see­ing what you have to write.