Things are not so good in Sunnyland this week. The sudden onset of October-like weather has triggered my bipolar disorder something fierce and I’ve found myself in a very scary depressive episode where Blake had to come home from work on Tuesday or I was going to hurt myself.

I’m okay now (sort of) and luckily I see my shrink on Friday, who will no doubt tweak my drugs because in theory, if they’re doing their job things like this aren’t supposed to happen.

Yesterday, all I did was read A Thousand Splendid Suns (which is very good so far) at my desk and…that’s really pretty much it. I don’t expect today will be any different, aside from making this post.

Whoever recommended I download Mother Mother a LONG time ago, thank you. They’ve been keeping me sane-ish this week. Blake didn’t want to install iTunes on his computer, which I’m using until mine gets here, so I’ve been using Media Player and it didn’t import my playlists so I’ve been listening to albums instead and saw O My Heart by Mother Mother in my list and decided to listen to it, with their first album Touch Up directly after and I fell in love. This is the video for O My Heart, which isn’t my favourite song (I like Dirty Town, Polynesia and Oh Ana from their first album the best) but that’s the only video I could find.

They’re Canadian, you should all check them out.

Today the rain and wind let up long enough for me to go out and survey the damage to my garden. The vegetable garden (or should I say tomato garden) is okay but most of my sunflowers got knocked down even though I tied them up weeks ago. The wind was strong enough that it broke the string that I’d used. :o/

All the ones that were on the ground, I cut and brought inside to put in a vase and they’re not sitting on my kitchen table, along with the craptonne of tomatoes I picked while I was out there. There are still a lot of green ones out there that I don’t think will turn orange before the frost comes so I picked the ones that were more or less ripe or that would ripen inside in a few days and brought them in.

I also have about 6 more in my fridge…Katie, how the hell do I make sauce since I don’t know what else to do with all these tomatoes?

While I was out there, I also picked what I think will be close to the last of the cherry tomatoes. There are a lot of almost ripe or green tomatoes on the plants but there appears to be an abundance of slugs right now with all the rain and they’ve gotten a lot of them. Plus, with the way the weather’s been, I think frost is going to happen soon and then that’ll be the end of them. If things stay the way they are right now, then I should be able to get another 2 containers full of them but I think that’s it.

This morning Madison gave me the finger as she was leaving for school because I was making fun of her for looking like Justin Beiber (it’s her bangs haha). So she gave me the finger right as she was going out the door and then she came back in 2 seconds later to say “I was only joking plz don’t ground me!” haha Anyway, it was a proud moment. Her biological father used to tell me, when he was a teenager, that he’d read somewhere that if a child swears at their parents, it means they’re comfortable with them and feel secure enough in their relationship with them to know that things will be okay in the end. Does that make sense? I always thought there might be some truth to that, although I think there are exceptions to the rule, like when I swore at my mother, there was no security there. I didn’t think my mother even loved me until I was in my 20′s. Our kids KNOW we do and while Wes doesn’t swear, Madison feels comfortable with us to swear occasionally just in conversation.

Anyway, yeah. She gave me the finger. I was in tears I was laughing so hard. (Maybe you had to be there…)

Speaking of laughing…last night I was eating dinner and Blake & I were talking, as we usually do while we eat and as I was taking a drink, he said something really funny – we have no idea what – and I BLEW SNOT all into my drink, like it was floating on the surface. It was so gross but so fucking funny, I was just about on the floor peeing my pants as he went to get me a new drink in a new glass. Again, maybe you had to be there…

Okay, that’s the only excitement there’s been this week, aside from the whole wanting to kill myself thing. I’m gonna go make breakfast now and continue reading my book.

Oh, btw, I did submit to Touched By Fire. I’ll be very surprised if I get in, but I figured I had nothing to lose by submitting.

I mean, here’s how the year goes for me:

Spring: I start to thaw and come alive and suddenly the world is wonderful. I get excited looking for the first robin of spring, the first crocuses, the first ladybugs. In March I start plants inside and get excited watching them grow. My sleep schedule goes straight to shit though, as it does in fall because these transitional months wreak havoc with like, my biological clock or something, but it’s okay, it corrects itself by about June-ish.

Summer: I’m in loooooove. The hotter, the more humid, the better. Yeah, I bitch about the heat like everyone else, but the heat just means that the kids and I have all day to scrounge up change to go to the beach when Blake gets home. I nap a lot more in the summer because when we have a heat wave, it gets so hot you can’t move and you just get sleepy (especially because of the meds I’m on that make me sleepy to begin with) and so, I do a lot of my painting at night when it’s cooler, but also at night is when I go to the park across the road and swing on the swings and watch the stars and dig my toes in the cold sand. We eat fresh food, whether it’s from our own garden or stuff grown locally at the grocery store and my whole body just feels better, it feels more alive.  Admittedly, by the end of August the kids and I are all getting on each other’s nerves and they’re ready to go back to school and I’m ready for them to go back to school too, but Labour Day weekend, I think, is usually still hot and this year it’s fall weather and that has me bummin’ hardcore.

Fall: I hate fall. I hate that everything is dying. (Well I guess everything’s not dying, some things are just going dormant and if the trees didn’t go dormant we wouldn’t have maple syrup in the spring…) I hate the Fall Fair. I’m really starting to hate Halloween because I have GREAT anxiety about people potentially coming to my door wanting candy when I have none and I don’t want to buy any because no one ever comes to the door, I just think they might, and the kids bring home almost a garbage bag of the stuff so we don’t need an extra bag of it when I’m throwing out half of their haul behind their backs anyway because it’s junk and none of us needs it…yes, I’m a horrible mother.  I hate the wind and the rain and the leaves blowing all over the place. I hate the grass turning yellow and dying. I begin to worry about Xmas. I used to love the first day of school but now I hate it. The kids are going to come home that day with a million problems that I’m expected to solve by the next day and they’re going to lay 30 trees worth of paper on my desk that I don’t know what to do with for field trips and things we can’t afford but must shell out money for anyway.

On Tuesday there will probably be a fight on the way home from school, which I’m worried about. This 9 year old little shit up the street is jealous of Madison having a friend her own age and jealous of her boobs and just jealous of Madison growing up in general, as evidenced by the fact that this 9 year old tries to dress grown up in boob shirts (where there are no boobs) and high heels and wobbles down the street in front of our house, swinging non-existent hips with her nose stuck up in the air, lipstick on her teeth and a purse around her arm. When Madison uploaded pics to her Facebook last week (two of which I posted here on my site), this 9 year old’s jealousy really bubbled over and she told Madison she was “ugly and horrable”. Then when Madison blocked her on Facebook and MSN, the girl started telling all the neighbourhood kids that Madison was a lesbian because I guess when you’re 9 and live in a very small town, that’s the worst insult you can come up with. Madison laughed it off and set the record straight with the few girls who messaged her to find out if it was true or not, but the 9 year old’s been talking trash about her ever since. Because they walk home the same route, I know there are going to be problems on the first day of school possibly even violence because this 9 year old acts pretty big for her breeches.  But the thing is, this 9 year old, in the past, has known that she can’t do anything to Madison, verbally OR physically because Madison would just ignore her. Madison towers over her and could push her over with one finger, but she’s wise enough just to not engage. So instead, the 9 year old goes after Wes to antagonize Madison into a fight. Blake said he has no problem, if this all plays out the way I’m afraid it might, going  to the kid’s grandparents (who look after her and her sister) and putting an end to all of this shit but I’m the one who has to deal with it “on the front lines” so to speak and the whole situation gives me anxiety like nothing else has in quite some time because I’m afraid of Wes getting his nose punched in as a casualty of war.

Plus there’s also the fact that fall is another transitional season and my sleep schedule gets completely fucked up. Like, here I am at 5 in the morning on a holiday writing a fucking blog post when I should be sleeping.

So that’s fall, or at least this one.

Winter: Well if you’ve been reading this blog for over a year, you know how I get in the winter. I’m better now that we’ve identified that I have S.A.D. and I do my light therapy, but for the most part, all winter I just do my best to cope. It’s fucked up though, as much as winter destroys me, I wouldn’t live anywhere, I don’t think, that doesn’t have it. I think snow is beautiful and many times I’ve tried (and failed) to record what snow looks like through my eyes. I think that without the cold and snow, I wouldn’t have the appreciation for spring and summer that I do. I think my body is so attuned to the 4 seasons that missing one would be worse than enduring it. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t pass up a vacation to somewhere warm in February, but I couldn’t live there. And of course winter means dealing with Xmas, which, as I pointed out, I start worrying about in the fall.

Admittedly though, last winter, with the lightbox wasn’t as bad as previous ones, but I’m still definitely not at my best in any way, shape or form (although I do feel I do my best creative work in the winter because I’m inside all the time and have to use my imagination to entertain myself).

Life is so grey area, y’know? Nothing’s every black & white, as much as I want it to be.

Lately part of my depression has involved privilege, self-esteem and awareness of the issues around me that I never saw before.

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So add to the list that I’m feeling entirely inferior as a blogger, despite the fact that Blake pointed out that I get e-mails from people who say that I’ve helped them in some way by writing about my life and saying some of the thing I do “out loud”. I guess that’s something…not something I’ve ever striven for or done on purpose, but I guess it’s a positive side effect of being so self absorbed….

Onto other things…

Yesterday Blake & I went to Toronto to pick up my paintings from The Square Foot Show. The trip was pretty uneventful, we just drove there, went to the gallery, stood in a line and picked up my paintings. Nothing too exciting. When we were walking down the street toward the gallery, there was this guy dressed in shabby, dirty clothes and a shirt that didn’t fit (I don’t think he was homeless but definitely mentally ill) and as we walked by, he said to Blake, “do you have some spare change for a Coke?” We were walking pretty fast and Blake just shook his head “no” and as we were walking, I asked Blake if he really did ask for change for a Coke and Blake said yes, and so I said if the guy was still there on our way back, I’d give him the Coke that just so happened to be in my bag. (I’m on meds that cause dry mouth, I travel with liquids.) So we went to the gallery and got my paintings (I didn’t sell any, which is a good thing*) and on our way back, the guy was still there so I got the Coke out of my bag and said, “Sir? Here you go.” and he said, “I don’t want that.” Confused I said, “Isn’t that what you asked us for when we passed by here earlier?” and he said, kind of belligerently, “NO, I asked for a COFFEE.” So I said “sorry” and we just kept walking to the car. We know for a fact that he said he wanted a Coke when we walked past him the first time, especially since we heard him, as we were approaching him WITH the Coke, ask another person for change for a Coke, so Blake figures he really wanted money for beer or something, which just made me sad.

On the way home, as we were on the outskirts of our town, the clouds were pretty spectacular so Blake pulled over and I ran into a field to take pictures of them. Behold:

My pictures, admittedly, suck, and they looked much cooler in person.

*So like I said, I didn’t sell any of my paintings at The Square Foot Show, which is a good thing and I found it funny that there was a guy in line talking to a VERY outspoken American woman who was happy that he didn’t sell anything either (which surprised her). I’m happy to have not sold anything because AWOL Gallery takes 50 goddamn percent of the $225 they charge for your paintings plus you’re out the $20 it cost to get in the show (plus gas to get the paintings there, then going to the show, then picking them up), so really you don’t make any money at all. The show, for me, as I think I’ve said before, was just to have another show on my resume for when I apply for the Ontario Arts Council emerging artist grant which I’m told by one of the program’s directors isn’t even necessary so next year I doubt I’ll take part in the show.

I would like to somehow find out about other shows that are actually happening in my area but I don’t know how you go about doing that. There IS some sort of arts council in Barrie that I know of but I’ve been on their website and they only seem to advertise events after they’re already happening, so that does me no good. There is also a local like, arts club type of thing but you have to pay quite a bit of money to be part of it, if I recall correctly, and I don’t think I’d benefit from it enough to make the financial investment because I don’t live in Barrie and I don’t think you should have to pay money just to find out about art shows before they happen. There has to be a better way, I just don’t know what it is.

Since I didn’t sell anything at Square Foot, I am going to submit all 3 of those paintings to Touched By Fire. I’m 99.9% sure they’ll be rejected because they aren’t depressing enough, but that’s okay, I’m going to submit them anyway and see what happens. No harm, right? And if I get in, that’s kind of a cool thing because the show’s at the ROM in Toronto and I happen to know the food is excellent and that there’s a free bar. Or at least that was the case when I was in the show before.

Anyway, I’m just rambling now…which I suppose I’ve been doing this entire post. I think I’m going to check e-mail, go back to bed and when I wake up, I’ll post my new paintings to Etsy.

- Being without 24/7 access to a computer has made me extremely productive. I’ve completed 9 ACEOs and 2 paintings this week. The ACEOs I obviously posted to Etsy yesterday but the paintings are going to have to wait a few days because it’s rainy & overcast here right now and that’s not the best light to photograph them in. Also, the sides of them need a couple of light coats of varnish still, so I suppose they’re not exactly finished, but pretty damn close. (The varnish I use on the sides is different than the varnish I use on the front and it dries in seconds, so doing the sides will take half an hour, tops, for both paintings.) I’m not sure what I’m going to work on next, but I did get my sketchbook yesterday for The Sketchbook Project, so I think I might get started on that. The pages of the sketchbook are verrrry thin and there are a lot of them, so I think I’m going to have to glue some of the pages together for them to support the watercolour paper I draw/paint my girls on. In the rules they said “no glitter” because it gets everywhere and that’s just a rule I cannot abide by. (When I use glitter, it does NOT get everywhere because I mix it with glazing medium, which is sort of like a very thin glue (well, the way I use it it is) and I varnish over it, so the glitter does. not. budge. Hence why I will not be following the “no glitter” rule.) My sketchbook’s theme is “facing forward” because that seemed the most conducive to what I wanted to do with mine but I see on their website that they’ve added some new themes that look pretty interesting. I almost chose “boys and girls” for mine because I really should practice doing boys, but changed my mind at the last minute. I’m thinking of getting Madison a sketchbook so she can participate too but I have to wait until I make a few more Etsy sales for that to happen because my PayPal doesn’t exactly have a balance at the moment.

- My new computer should ship somewhere between the 13th-15th, or so I’m told. We suspect that it’ll actually be shipped out faster than that but those are the dates Dell is giving us. Yesterday Blake got a call from Bell asking if I wanted 3 months of free internet service, which I apparently get with the computer. He said no. (It’s like, 2GB data xfer/month LOL We exceeded our limit this month 8 days into the month and I think our limit is 50 or 75GB.) In regards to this computer, I am extremely grateful for having the friends I do. <3

- The day before yesterday Madison and I got our new glasses, which I’d love to show you but I have no cam software on Blake’s machine and I can’t find my installer for ConquerCam. I know it’s in my e-mail….somewhere….and keep in mind I’ve only deleted probably every 3 e-mails I’ve gotten since 2001 so there’s a lot to go through and the search function doesn’t appear to be working for some reason. I blame Chrome (which I hate btw, I’m not sure why I’m using it…)

Anyway, we got two pairs of glasses each and mine are a super nerdy clearish pink pair that fit perfectly and a tortoiseshell pair that I have to go in and get adjusted on Saturday. Madison got…actually I forget what her first pair looks like (and she’s currently sleeping) but her second pair are a sort of goldish brown. She wasn’t happy about needing glasses at first but now that she sees them as a fashion accessory she’s all about them.

- Speaking of Madison, somehow this summer the girl turned into an almost teenager. These pictures were taken by Wes (age 7) of Madison (age 12) the day before yesterday:

They spent allllllllll day doing photoshoots, Wes the photographer in his baseball hat and Madison doing a million makeup and wardrobe changes. She posted the pictures on her Facebook page but these are the two I liked the most and she said I could post them here.

I think it’s hilarious that my mom calls Madison “pretty girl” because that’s what we call the cat. LOL

- Speaking of my mom…the birthday card that I ordered for her from Etsy STILL hasn’t arrived at MY house and my mom’s birthday was August 26th. I ordered the card on August 17th and it was being shipped from Colorado. It’s a card, it takes one stamp, it’s not like it’s a package that has to clear customs or anything. I’ve ordered cards from this girl before and they came just fine and in time, so I’m going to send her a convo today on Etsy to see what’s what. Also frustrating is that my mother’s birthday gift which I also ordered from Etsy hasn’t arrived either. That one is a small packet that shouldn’t require any red tape at customs either so I don’t know what’s up with that. Since I ordered it on the same day I ordered the card, like literally minutes apart, I’m assuming something’s up with the USPS right now or maybe Canada Post because both should have been here at least a week ago. My mother’s gift was from a seller I buy from regularly and I had them ship it directly TO my mother and since my mom hasn’t e-mailed me about it, I’m assuming it hasn’t come yet and that’s frustrating me because my mother already thinks I’m a shit at the best of times. Guh.

So note to self, and you, I suppose, when buying gifts from Etsy, especially if the item is not from your country of origin, buy at least a month in advance if you can. (Although for Father’s Day I ordered a whole bunch of stuff for Blake from one seller and 2 months later I hadn’t received the stuff so I convo them and they said they lost my order, like the piece of paper my order was on, and that A) they were now out of stock of half the things I’d ordered and B) they were going on vacation THAT DAY so I had only a few hours to decide if I wanted whatever they could send me or if I wanted them to issue me a refund. I went for the refund. And I left them neutral feedback just the other day because the woman never cancelled all the sales and while she did send me a small package with lipbalm and a note apologizing for the mix up, I just couldn’t leave her positive feedback and I didn’t feel right leaving negative feedback on like, 6 items.

Etsy is great, I love shopping there not only because it’s all handmade but because I DON’T REALLY GET OUT MUCH and everyone takes PayPal, but some shops just really aren’t very professional and I think that sours the pot for the rest of us, both buying and selling.

Blake is distracting me my being half-naked in my office…rawr.

- The kids start school on Tuesday and I could NOT be more thrilled. I love them, I love summer, but I’m ready to have my days back to myself. Madison’s not allowed to use the internet unless I’m awake and Wes isn’t allowed to play outside if I’m not awake and that caused a bit of issue this summer because I’m on a LOT of meds where the primary side effect is drowsiness so that means I often have 2 naps a day despite the fact that I went to bed at 10pm the night before and didn’t get up until 11am the next morning. The kids, of course, resent this, Madison more than Wes because her whole social life this summer has been on Facebook, but it’s not like I can help it and all summer I’ve been trying as hard as I can to NOT nap so they can do the things they want to do and godammit, I’m tired. I cannot wait until no one’s home during the day and I can nap all I want guilt-free. That may sound selfish, but again, it’s not as if I can help it.

- I see my shrink next Friday, which I’m not looking forward to. I’ve decided not to confront her about the unprofessional “spoiled brat” comment unless she does it again. This might seem cowardly considering that that was the 3rd or 4th time she’d said more or less the same thing AFTER telling me specifically I was allowed to live my life however I wanted to and then suddenly having a problem with it, but yesterday she called and left a message on the phone for me about Touched By Fire and even though that means SHE NEVER ACTUALLY LISTENS TO ME, her heart was in the right place. She’s just so hit or miss. With meds, she’s great, but when it comes to therapy, which ISN’T EVEN HER JOB BECAUSE SHE’S A PSYCHIATRIST NOT A PSYCHOLOGIST, she’s just not very good. I don’t necessarily think that she herself is the problem, I think it’s more the fact that we estimated that she has over 400 patients to keep track of and that since my meds are more or less stable, I’m not exactly a high priority case anymore. Since that IS the case, however, I wish we could just skip the therapy bit because it’s a waste of both of our time and it’s really kinda just going through the motions and just be like, “so, do you think your meds are okay?” I say “yep” she says “okay then, see you in 3 months”. That would be awesome. I mean, we’ve already established that I’m not actively doing immersion therapy or trying to overcome agoraphobia at this time (despite the fact that I *am* getting better, it seems, without really even trying), so I don’t really see the need for pseudo-therapy just to fill up my timeslot on her calendar. Does that make sense? Like please, go help someone else who needs it. I’ve got my drugs, gimme a lightbox for the S.A.D. in October and I’m good. We’re in the maintenance phase of my mental health issues, I don’t need to sit in her office for 45 minutes, especially because I have no idea what to talk to her about because really, aside from the odd “bad day”, I’m good!

I do think that this visit she’s going to make me go for my 6 month blood draw WHICH I HATE, but they have to check my liver function and my cholesterol (my triglycerides in particular because that’s what the risperidone fucked with) and it’s a condition of being on the medications I’m on. *shrug*

We also have to talk to her about getting my drugs for free through the mental health clinic because even with insurance, we are struggling to afford them. In total, all of my drugs per month are a little over $1,000 and of that, we have to pay about $250 out of pocket, which is almost our entire grocery budget per paycheque so if there’s a way that we don’t have to pay that, that would be great because we’re slooooowly sliding into debt that we can’t get out of, but that $250/month would really help with that. I’m afraid though, that we won’t qualify for it because every time we’ve tried to apply for anything like this (like the mental health disability money I’m eligible for), they turn me down because they say Blake makes too much money. Which is stupid because if they actually looked at our bills instead of just his income, they’d see we’re totally fucked. They also look at gross income, not net, so that doesn’t help either and I’ll never understand why all government bodies do that but they all seem to.

I feel horrible taking $1,000/month away from our local pharmacy that’s been nothing but good to us, like fronting me drugs when my shrink’s on vacation and she didn’t give me enough repeats (which happens a lot, actually) but we don’t really have a choice. I’ll still get my pain meds from them, but that’s peanuts compared to my psych meds. It’s also not going to be very convenient getting my drugs from the mental health clinic because it’s in another town about 25 minutes away and Blake is going to have to leave work early, like really early, to make it there before they close at 4pm. And if I run out of drugs on a Saturday or Sunday, I’m fucked, so we’re (I’m) going to have to be extra diligent about repeats and how many days worth of drugs I have left. I don’t use one of those pill containers that you fill by the day (do you know what I mean?), but I’m thinking I might have to start if I want to stay on top of all that.

Annnnnd I think that’s all I’ve really got to say this morning, especially since my meds are kicking in and I’m getting sleepy, particularly since I’ve been awake since about 5:30am. I want to wash our bedding today so I better nap now and get that out of the way so I can wash it all when I wake up.

Hope you all have a lovely day!

I’m shaking. It took 2 Ativan and a lot of Twitter encouragement but dammit, I wanted pie and I went to the goddamn store and got me some motherfucking PIE.

And y’know what? I was so proud of myself that I got CAKE too. And crumpets, pretzels, watermelon for the kids and baby cans of gingerale.

I’ve been to the grocery store with Blake 100 times and it’s only about 3 minutes from our house, but I went down the wrong street and got lost-ish which made me sorta panic, but then I got on Yonge St. and knew the grocery store was up the road (I’d missed the grocery store’s street by about 2 or 3 streets – oops) so I didn’t freak out. I mean, the town’s only so big and it’s pretty much impossible to REALLY get lost.

It also took me like, 10 minutes to figure out how to work the car. I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to move the seat up or how to turn the lights on but I finally got it. Also our car has like, D3, D2 and DL and I have no idea what that means so I just picked D3, which was the closest one to N and went with it. I probably did it wrong but it worked so, whatever.

Blake’s gonna be pissed that I bought fairly useless stuff with his money, but again, whatever, I FUCKING DID IT and that’s what matters.

Now I’m going to allow myself to freak out and cry and y’know what else? I got pie AND cake and I’m going to fucking eat BOTH of them and then I’m gonna go to bed. Yeah, you heard me, BOTH OF THEM.

The end.

Edit: Okay, so I was too full after the pie to actually eat the cake, but dammit, pretend I did! And for those who may be curious, it was lemon meringue pie & chocolate cake.

This fact, from time to time, when I really think about it just blows my tiny little mind. I don’t really know why I think it’s such a big deal, but I’ve been examining that tonight and I think it’s the whole “not being dependent on the grocery store” thing. And maybe the fact that I nurtured these CRAZY HUGE PLANTS from teeny tiny seeds since March, not really knowing what was going to happen. It’s not like my frontyard garden where I scatter seeds, let them do their own thing out there with very little help from me except watering them twice in the beginning and then I know more or less what’s going to happen to them. They are going to grow into purple, pink, white, blue and sometimes yellow flowers that grow into this one gigantic bush that people walking past marvel over.

And here’s where I might as well segue into what some of you will see as bad news: this is the last year I’m going to do the Keep Off the Lawn Project (which is just a stupid name for my wildflower frontyard garden for those not in the know). Blake’s going to weed whack the garden in a couple of weeks before everything starts going to seed and next year instead of spreading wildflower seeds we’re going to be spreading grass seed or laying down sod. :o/

Here’s the fact of the matter: I love my frontyard garden, like really really love it, but at the same time it gives me massive anxiety and this week, after I went out and took pictures of it and noticed all the weeds and fretted over the seeds that never grew or the fact that the back half of the garden is all bachelor’s buttons and the front is all cosmos and it should be the opposite because cosmos are taller that bachelor’s buttons. Also, the bachelor’s buttons bloomed in July and started going to seed at the beginning of August while the cosmos just started blooming a couple of weeks ago so the whole thing looks uneven ad unkempt, like in a bad way. And unless I spend hours and hours and hours out there transplanting, there’s no way to fix it (and even that probably wouldn’t even be possible, everything’s way too close together).

And here’s the thing, which I’ve explained before: I can’t spend hours and hours and hours out there. I can barely spend the few minutes out there it takes me to take pictures of the garden. I feel like I’m being watched and judged by people n the cars going by and I’m terrified of someone walking down the street talking to me or worse, my neighbour who I barely know and our relationship is super awkward for a million reasons I won’t go into right now. So I sit here and fret about the weeds and how REAL gardeners walking by are judging me and my garden. I paid the kids twice this summer to weed the garden (and again to deadhead the bachelor’s buttons), but kids aren’t very good weeders, they aren’t very strong and I can’t be out there telling them what to pull or what to leave or how to do it. I mean they do their best and really weeding the garden is just an excuse for me to give them money anyway, but that doesn’t help my anxiety over weeds.

Wayne & Judy’s house, well “old house” I suppose, on the left of us is for sale right now for only $99,999.00 (it was purchased for $150,000!) so it’s getting a craptonne of people looking at it and they make me nervous as all hell. Wayne & Judy’s backyard and back deck, as I’ve explained before, overlooks both our front AND backyards so there’s absolutely no privacy ad lately every time I’ve gotten up the courage to go out and do something in either garden, there’s been some stranger either touring the house with the real estate agent or ever crazier, people have been pulling over, because the price of the house is advertised right on the “for sale” sign, and have gotten out of their cars to look in the windows and come right into the backyard and look around. To even GET into the backyard you have to open a latched gate! I don’t get the nerve of these people!

AND WORSE! GET THIS! Two weeks ago some creepy balding guy knocked on my door and wanted to know if I knew anything about Wayne & Judy’s house! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, RIGHT? I just about had a goddamn heart attack right there, I swear to god! And I was SO STUPID about it too. When people knock on our door, the dogs generally bark like crazy until they sniff whoever it is (no matter who it is) and then they go lay down. This guy knocked gently enough that he didn’t set off the dogs, which I always see as a good thing (I’ve trained just about all delivery people to do that because the barking makes me crazy and I don’t know how to make them stop – anyway, totally different topic…) so when I answered the door, I actually stepped outside and closed the door behind me. So the kids didn’t know I was interacting with this stranger and the dogs didn’t know and what if he was a crazy stalker person who wanted to kill or abduct me? No one would know I was gone or hurt or dead or whatever! In hindsight I was just like, what, are you fucking retarded? That was so stupid! Anyway…

So this guy, who again, was totally twitchy and creepy and I just got a seriously disturbed vibe from him, asked me if I knew about the house and I said that I could probably answer any question he had and he was just like, “well tell me about it” so I told him the downsides: electric baseboard heaters, no place for a normal furnace if you wanted to upgrade, because of the electric heat and the fact that it’s a seriously old house with no weather-proofing, Wayne & Judy had like, $400-$500/month hydro bills in the winter. You can’t get a queen-sized boxspring upstairs because the stairs are at an angle where you can’t get it around the corner, so if you want a queen-sized bed, you’re getting a mattress on the floor. One bedroom doesn’t have a window or a door.  Mice. Lots & lots of mice. No basement. Living room carpet was pissed on so much that it needs replacing and the house stinks of dog pee (unless the owner replaced it, which I doubt).  Blah blah blah. So I told him all this and he starts telling me about how he’s going through a divorce and “the bitch” is getting half of their $400,000 house and she took all of his “fucking” retirement money and he’s like, telling me all these details about his divorce, like the fact that he’ll be paying $1100/month in child support and I’m thinking “dude, what the fuck” but just nodding and hoping like hell that this creepy as fuck guy will not be my new neighbour…then two days ago I was in the backyard checking on the veggies and there that creepy guy was on the back deck of the house with the real estate agent. The house still has a “for sale” sign on it and a lot of people have been through since I saw that guy so I don’t know anything but man…I hope this dude doesn’t move in next door. I mean, he kinda leered at me when he was with the real estate agent. So creepy.

Wow, did I ever go on a tangent there.

My point is that the frontyard garden stresses me out more than it gives me pleasure so after talking to Blake about it, I’m not going to do it anymore. I’m still anti-lawn, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t have to deal with grass. Mowing is Blake’s job. There *are* two flower beds in the front where I will plant flowers, I don’t know what kind yet because the beds are in a shady area and I don’t know what to plant,  but I figure I’ll let the kids have one of them each to grow whatever they want from a list of what will grow there and they can start their seeds in March when I start mine for the back garden.

Speaking of the back garden, Blake & I are considering expanding it next year, although we haven’t decided definitively. Our neighbour on the right (named Frances, I haven’t written about him much because there’s nothing to write about), whose house is also for sale, never goes in his backyard EVER so I don’t have to worry about making small talk with him because we have no privacy. I will have to contend with new neighbours once Wayne & Judy’s house sells but I’m going to treat this as immersion therapy and try to just ignore them. God help me if they’re friendly, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

So that’s the plan.

Out of everything we planted in the back garden, which was a lot, the only things that thrived were sugar snap peas, burgundy beans, bobcat tomatoes, sugary cherry tomatoes and green and purple peppers. The tomatoes and peppers were started indoors in march and the bobcat tomatoes out there are fucking ridiculous. There are 3 plants, that are more like BUSHES, that have grown so big it just looks like one giant tomato bush. The tomato cages were useless because there were too small, so the tomatoes grew tall enough it pulled the cages right out of the ground and they’re all supported by leaning on each other in like, a tee-pee formation. Only one of my cherry tomato plants thrived, which sucks because they’re awesome, but the cage was useless with that one too because of it being too small. I had no idea how big tomato plants could get so I got the small 99 cent cages instead of the bigger $4.99 ones. Next year we’ll get the bigger ones.

And I guess that’s enough of my crazy talk, I’ll just get on with the pictures.

This year’s floral disaster.

Keep off the weeds!

Coreopsis and…mystery weeds.

A little sunflower with bugs on it.

A stunted sunflower randomly growing in the middle of the garden.

White cosmos, which seems to be the only variety – out of three – that seemed to grow this year.

Yellow mystery flower that I didn’t plant, but I think it looks cool. (It’s actually very small.)

Now onto the veggies, which I think are more exciting….

Green bobcat tomato. It’s impossible to count, but there’s gotta be at least 30 or 40 of these between 3 plants.

These are the sugary cherry tomatoes that look more like grape tomatoes to me, but that’s not what the seed packet said. These guys are funny; I have to go out there every other day to pick the ripe ones or they’ll fall off the branch. Today when I was picking them, I picked half off the plant and half off the ground. (You’ll see what I picked at the end.)

Green peppers, obviously. They’re growing surprisingly well. I picked the one on the left, which I’ll show you a picture of at the end.

Purple peppers. This is the only purple pepper plant (say that 5 times fast) that survived/grew out of like, 10 seedlings. There’s a pepper plant beside it that I should have taken a picture of because it doesn’t know what colour it wants to be. Half of the peppers on that plant are green and half are purple. Like, each pepper is two-toned, it’s weird. These guys are still too small to pick, I think, but I honestly have no idea how big purple peppers get, so they could be full-sized for all I know. I’ll just keep going out there every day and checking on them.

Don’t these look perfect? I picked these on Tuesday.
(And this picture is misleading, these tomatoes don’t get “red red” like regular tomatoes. They’re more of an orangey colour.)

Here’s my first pepper! I guess my hand isn’t really a good indicator of how big it is because you guys don’t know how big my hand is, but it’s pepper-sized like the ones you’d find in the store. I picked this on Tuesday too but I haven’t cut it up yet because I want the kids to see it. (They’re up north at my dad’s right now. Coming home tomorrow.)

This week’s haul. I actually picked beans too (holy shit do we have a lot of beans), but I forgot to take pictures of them before I cut them up. We haven’t eaten them yet but will soon.

On Saturday the kids are going to be tasked with picking all of the beans and I’m going to cut them up into smaller pieces and then put them on cookie sheets in the freezer and then when they’re frozen I’m going to put them in Ziplock bags so we’ll have beans for later. My great grandma and Aunt Betty taught me how to do that when I was little. They called it “snapping beans” because they would snap the beans in about 3 pieces, but I’m going to use a knife when I do mine.

And that’s really all I have to say on…well, everything.

]]> http://www.sunnycrittenden.com/wp/2010/08/13/food/feed/ 0 http://www.sunnycrittenden.com/wp/2010/08/01/ableism/ http://www.sunnycrittenden.com/wp/2010/08/01/ableism/#comments Sun, 01 Aug 2010 14:28:22 +0000 Sunny http://www.sunnycrittenden.com/wp/?p=3009 Since joining a certain Live Journal community that I’m a little iffy about and slightly afraid of posting in, I’ve learned the word “ableism”. This is what “ableism” is:

“a·ble·ism
–noun
discrimination against disabled people.”

Here’s Wikipedia’s entry on ableism, which I’m not going to put in quotes anymore because now you know that the word exists too and you know it’s a real thing.

As I’m learning about ableism by reading the posts in this Live Journal community, I’m learning that ableism applies to mental health because mental illness is a disability and the thing with mental health ableism is that most of it is inadvertent. Because people can’t see your disability they assume you don’t have one, but a lot of the crap I’ve experienced over the years by people who full out know I have a mental illness is also ableism, but a more insidious kind because it’s meant to degrade, hurt or devalue a person’s very real problem.

Want some examples?

My mother while I was in the hospital due to psychosis lamenting on the fact that she didn’t have the “luxury” of losing her mind.

People telling me to “just get better”. The whole “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” argument that no one would ever give, say, a diabetic, but for the mentally ill, it’s okay because it’s all in their head anyway, right?

People saying I’m lying about my mental health issues so I don’t have to work/don’t have to drive/don’t have to do groceries etc. Because psychosis and a 14 day stay in a psych ward is such an easy, fun thing to fake. And psychiatrists are so stupid, they all fell for it. Damn I must be a GREAT actress!

People saying I’m lying about my mental health issues AND taking all the pills I take for attention. Yes I’m taking approximately $1000/month worth of powerful psychiatric medication for attention. Ya got me.

These are ableist statements and most of them have come from people who are supposed to love me and support me. But now that I know that these statements have a name? Have like, a category? I can compartmentalize them in my brain as such and have them not affect me anymore.

So that’s all I really had to say. I just happened to see another post on this Live Journal community about ableism and then this Post Secret showed up today so I thought I’d make a short post about it.

Thursday night I was playing WoW with my friends Stephy & Keenan and eating Crispers when I lost a filling. I have nightmares regularly about this very thing and while I anted to freak out, I stayed mostly calm, especially because our dentist is awesome and I was pretty sure I could get it fixed, if only temporarily, the next day. Plus, it didn’t hurt. Still, when I got into bed I woke Blake up and freaked out a little bit, but not as badly as I would have in the past and then I went to sleep.

Friday morning Blake told me that our dentist could see me in the afternoon, after my shrink appointment, so yay.

My shrink appointment didn’t go as planned. See, the thing is, I only see my shrink once a month or sometimes once every 3 months, so she doesn’t always remember things about me or what we talked about last session. Plus, she’s sometimes quite a bitch, but despite that I mostly like her. It’s not her fault she has like, 500+ patients and at the mental health clinic I go to, where she works 2 days a week, she gets paid peanuts compared to her private practice and probably has more clients, all of whom she usually sees once a month. I’ve been in the waiting room with a lot of her patients and believe me, I’m definitely low priority and to me, that’s a good thing.

Anyway, I was excited to tell her about doing yoga because yoga is a huge deal for me in terms of social awkwardness and agoraphobia in general. A year ago I couldn’t do this. Two years ago, this would have been an impossibility. I expected my shrink to be like, “yay you!” but when I told her she wasn’t really that enthused about it and that wasn’t the reaction I was going for. She was more amused, I think, that Blake was doing it – omg a MAN doing yoga, imagine! – than me and that kinda bummed me out.

Then I thought she might be happy that I still haven’t smoked since April 23rd, but she didn’t seem to care about that either.

So the next thing I wanted to talk to her about, or at least make her aware of, is that article about picky eating adults I linked in Live Journal the other day and how researchers are thinking it might actually be a disorder and that they were doing a study on it, which I signed up for. So she read the article, which I’d printed out for her, and the whole time she had a kind of smirk on her face like she was trying not to laugh and when she was finished, she said that she didn’t believe it was a disorder. (She spent about a minute 30 seconds skimming the article, I might add.) Then Blake and I started telling her about all of my issues with food, which are actually pretty immense when you lay them all out and I think I’m going to write a page about it on my site sometime soon because maybe it would be interesting to other people, but anyway we told her about ho sometimes it takes literally 2 hours to decide what to have for dinner and then in the end I usually end up eating something separate from the family anyway and after laying it all out on the table, she looks me dead in the eye and says, “is it possible that you’re just a spoiled brat?”

I had no idea how to respond to that. This is my shrink. This is the person who’s supposed to help me with my issues and help me figure out how to live with them or fix them and here she is completely invalidating what Blake and I spent the last 10 minutes trying to explain? I mean basically what we were saying is that we think I have OCD and that it manifests itself with food. Y’know how some people with OCD are germaphobes? Well I’m pretty much a foodaphobe in a very similar way and she asked me that? What kind of bedside manner is that? That’s bullshit. Your shrink isn’t supposed to CALL YOU NAMES.

And what really kills me about this shrink in particular is that when I first started seeing her, almost  years ago now, I told her “hey I sleep ’til 1pm and work at night and smoke and live a really weird life”, she said “that’s okay. It’s your life and you have the right to live it how you want to.” And she stuck with that for like, the first year, but after that she started trying to change me or openly disagreeing with how I live my life. She thinks I should go to bed at 11 or 12 and get up early in the morning all of a sudden. Most of the time I actually DO do that but it’s the principle of it, she told me before that I could sleep however I wanted to as long as I was getting enough of it.

And then there was the one time where I walked into her office and like, almost the first thing she said to me is, “why don’t you get a job?” Like lady, have you not been listening for the past few years? Do you not remember my issues? That was the most asinine suggestion I’ve ever heard in my whole entire life. I’m not offended by people thinking I’m whatever because I don’t have a 9-5, I don’t expect people to understand my life and I don’t care, but SHE SHOULD because I’ve (we’ve) spent hours upon hours explaining to her how we are, how we live, how life is, and she just doesn’t pay attention or listen or write the right things down.

And by the way, I have a job, thank you. I have several. I’m an artist. I’m a camgirl. (A bad one at the moment, but whatever.) Those two things are what I do to bring in money so my kids can have the things they want, which brings me to my other job, being their mom. They LIKE that I’m always home and that I’m always there for them. Our family is extremely close and that’s the way we like it and a lot of that has to do with the fact that 85% of the time, I am completely available for whatever they need. So fuck you and your “get a job” crap. I’m all full up. It pissed me off when people negate being a stay at home mom as a job. That’s fucking bullshit, especially considering the fact that I also work from home at the same time.

Anyway, she pissed me of with the accusation that I as a “spoiled brat” and after she said that, I sort of shut down and stopped participating in the conversation, but I guess Blake explained things to her and she conceded that I probably have OCD tendencies but that I wouldn’t like the main treatment (exposure, which wouldn’t work in this case anyway, if you read the stories on PickyEatingAdults.com) and I couldn’t have the other treatment which is high doses of anti-depressants because they would make me manic. So we all concluded that the best thing to do is to just continue trying to work around it since I’m not exactly starving and Blake can deal with it with me. And really, I’m getting better. Not with food, I’m still a wreck over food, but I’ve been actively trying to make things easier on Blake when it comes to my stupid idiosyncrasies.

So after my shrink appointment we came home for a while and then it was time to go to the dentist where I got a temporary filling and I have to go back this Thursday for the real thing. I hate when the assistant dentist girl tells the secretary that they’ll need 40 minutes for me. :o/

But that’s a milestone in and of itself. I have had a lifelong fear of dentists but I’ve been really lucky to have two really good ones the last several years, especially the one I see now, and now it’s really no big deal because I know after the needle part, I’m good. The dentist I see now is really gentle and understanding and I’m really going to miss him when/if we move or when/if he retires. (He’s kinda old, but I don’t know how old. He’s spoken of retiring while I’ve been in the chair so I know it’s on his mind. Oh yeah, and he’s the only dentist in town.)

After the dentist I had a much needed nap and when I woke up, we went to Wal*Mart to get Madison a new bathing suit and flip-flops because hers were fuX0red and last year’s bathing suit wasn’t fitting so well. So we did that and while we were there, Wes said that he wished he could have a Zhu Zhu pet, which is a mechanical hamster that makes sounds and runs around on the floor and is about $10.

We went to the toy aisle after getting Madison situated and I looked at these mechanical hamsters and when I saw one that was pink, I was sold. I told Wes I would buy him one but that he couldn’t have it until he earned it by doing basic chores around the house. He was good with this, so we put two of them in the cart, one for him and one for me, so we could play with them together just as I played with Tamagotchis with Madison at around the same age.

I also picked up the new “Hole” album, Nobody’s Daughter, which is really a Courtney Love album that she decided to brand as being Hole for reasons I can’t even comprehend. I wasn’t going to buy the album out of principle but then my completest nature too over and suddenly I had to have it. Also I watched Courtney’s “Behind the Music” the night before and that made me want the album. (Have I ever mentioned how goddamn susceptible I am to advertising?)

I also bought two spiral notebooks because my current one is almost full and they were on sale for $3 a piece for the big fat ones, so score! And I also bought new underwear because my bum is no longer a large (it hasn’t been for quite some time, but I haven’t had any money) and is now a medium to small – w00t! I just grabbed a 3-pack of Hanes Her Way bikini underbums because ideally I’m going to be needing to buy smalls eventually.

I know, you totally care. We also bought shampoo, how exciting!

When we got home, I opened my Zhu Zhu pet to see what it did and then I started listening to Nobody’s Daughter, which I expected to hate but I’ve gotta say it’s actually growing on me, or at least some tracks. I think it’s better than the abysmal America’s Sweetheart, but only by a fraction. This may sound kind of weird, but America’ Sweetheart was kinda contrived while Nobody’s Daughter feels more honest. What I mean is that Live Through This was about Courtney’s Life, more or less, as was Celebrity Skin because that’s when she was going through her Hollywood phase. During America’ Sweetheart she was completely fucked up on drugs from crack to coke and getting hauled off to Bellevue because she was out of her mind and hardly any of that is present on America’s Sweetheart. Nobody’s Daughter is very much a comeback album and what she went through to get here, I think, what she learned along the way. (I think certain songs might be about people she met in rehab and some of it is definitely what she discovered about herself through therapy.)

Anyway, I won’t lie, I kinda like it – so shoot me. (But I still refuse to call it a Hole album because it’s not. Certain songs are VERY Hole-esque, but it’s just not Hole.)

So as I’m listening to the album for about the 3rd time, I’m reading my Facebook feed and one of my friends posted that he was going to the Courtney Love show the next day and I was like “WHAT????? HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS????” and immediately I was upset that I couldn’t go because I was sure it was either sold out or we couldn’t afford the INSANE $50 ticket price, which was a shame because on Saturday, the night of the show, we were celebrating our anniversary by going to get ribs and strawberry pie like we do every year and thus, we had a babysitter (two of them in fact!) and could conceivably go.

I sulked hardcore and tweeted about it several times, trying to figure out a way we could go. I have two paycheques coming any day now (well one is) and Blake said he could lend me the money for us to go and I could pay him back with that but the cheque is only for $200 and change and I need that money for the kids for the summer so I didn’t want to blow half of it on this show.

But just as I was considering it, Saturday morning, my friend Heatha messaged me and was like, “hey I can give you a deposit on the painting I want to buy so you can go to the show” and I was like “fuck YES” and that’s what happened. The deposit was exactly enough to pay for the tickets, parking and if we added $10, which I did, get a tour t-shirt.

Before I get into the show though, first and foremost Blake and I were celebrating our 8 year wedding anniversary by going to Haugen’s for the best ribs and fresh strawberry pie in the world, stopping in Greenbank where I grew up, to the bakery there where we bought the best garlic cheese bread in the world, as well as some pretty kickass ginger cookies.

Voila:

Normally we get a whole strawberry pie to bring home with us and share with the kids, but we didn’t this time because we were going to the Courtney Love show afterward and we didn’t think it would keep well in the trunk of the car that long. Plus, we were trying to be as frugal as possible because really, we can’t afford to celebrate our anniversary, but it’s important to us so we do it anyway.

I slept all the way from Haugen’s to the venue and since we were early, I continued to sleep in the car until the lineup to get in was considerably smaller and after fixing my makeup we got in line. Security confiscated my PENS! I had 3 BRAND NEW Pilot Precise V5s in my bag, which are kind of expensive as far as disposable pens go, and they confiscated them because of graffiti. I didn’t protest because I know there’s no point in doing that in situations like this, but man, that sucked. Plus you’d have to have a lot of time and be really dedicated to tag the bathroom with one of those.

The security chick was like, “after the show just come out and I’ll give them back to you” and I thought “yeah right”. And of course after the show, those security guards were nowhere to be found.

Anyway, the show. The show was pretty awesome and I can’t help but love Courtney Love. I’m sorry, I know some of you hate her guts and don’t get why I like her so much, but whatever, she was great. Here’s a review of the show, which I agree with. Her voice was different than usual (I’ve seen her as the REAL Hole twice before), even different than on the album, and I noticed that her annunciation was different too and actually very Jagger-esque. She belted out tunes old and new and the audience sang along to a lot of it and all in all it was just a really great show. (Well, except that she sang Doll Parts, which is the worst Hole song, imo.)

We started off in the “pit”, which was full of little girls like me when we started, and we were about 3 people back from the barriers but when it got closer to Courtney coming on, all these goddamn Amazons pushed and shoved their way in front of all of us and when Courtney came out, the “pit” went fucking mental (as to be expected). We stayed in there for the first 3 songs but when the girl to my left threw her totally full beer into the air all over the crowd and the woman to my right started literally punching people, I decided it was time to get the fuck out, so I grabbed Blake’s hand and we watched the rest of the show from the back where it was cooler and I could actually have a drink.

Luckily, being a primarily female audience and not a very tall one, I could actually see Courtney from the back from the waist up and the sound at the venue is actually really good so I was happy with our position, except when 6 foot tall dickheads decided to stand right in front of me. Repeatedly. I was a 6 foot tall dickhead magnet, I don’t know why. Luckily they never stayed in front of me very long and the back was sparse enough for me to move around so I could see better.

When we first arrived at the show I went to the bathroom and it was totally clean. When Courtney finished her encore I went to the bathroom again and it was absolutely trashed. The men reading this may or may not know this, but in most womens’ public bathrooms, to the right of the toilet, is a receptacle for used menstrual products. When I went to the bathroom at the end of the show I checked every available stall and I swear to god that every girl in the whole venue was on the rag but me. These receptacles were so full that all around them on the floor were used pads and tampons. It was beyond disgusting and made worse by the fact that the floor was all wet for some reason in the whole bathroom, which made the tampons bulk up. SO GROSS.

After the show, we went home and hung out with Ronny & Alex for about half an hour, then they went home and we went to bed and now it’s Sunday afternoon and I’m writing this post.

The only thing I have left to say is that Ronny now lives in Canada (he’s from MI) because he and Alex are getting married on Saturday and he brought me Vanilla Coke Zero, Cherry Coke Zero, Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper and Cherry Dr. Pepper, none of which we have in Canada because….I dunno, we fucking suck. I just had a can of Vanilla Coke Zero and just about had an orgasm on the spot. When they discontinued regular Vanilla Coke up here I was so upset because I LOVED it and when Ronny told me that they had Vanilla Coke Zero in the US I was like “that’s it, we’re moving” so that’s why he brought these all up.

Right now I’m drinking a can of Cherry Coke Zero and I actually think it might be better than the vanilla.

Oh and one more thing: I got the most BEAUTIFUL wedding invitation from our friends Alicia and Tim in Georgia that blew me away on Friday and I wish so badly that we could afford for all of us to go because those two actually kinda met through me and I’d really like to see them become husband and wife. Alas, financially it would be an impossibility, but I hope they know I’m there in spirit. (And I think they should totally webcast it…*cough*)

Anyway, that is all. Have a great week everyone!

And I think people don’t admit boredom because of that saying in the title. Because they’re afraid to appear boring. And I think that’s dumb.

So obviously, I’m bored. It’s is roughly 6.2 billion degrees in my little house, so hot that I can’t even have the lights on because the heat from the lightbulbs pushes the heat over the edge of tolerable and I can’t deal with that. It’s also very very humid and the humidity plus low light means that I can’t paint. And that’s really unfortunate because that’s what I want to do.

The low light also makes it very difficult to read, which is my other option. I could watch TV, but it’s 4pm and my best option would be Oprah, which I think is a stupid topic today.

So that leaves writing and napping, and I’ve already done the napping. Twice, in fact. So here I am in my darkened office blabbering on about boredom without a real plan in my head as to what I should say next.

And the weird thing is, I actually really like the heat, I love it when the weather’s like this, what I don’t like is the expectation (from whom? I mean really,  f r o m   w h o m   ?) that I should get up in the morning, have my breakfast, start working and doing my thing, have lunch, work some more, have dinner, watch TV with my husband as that’s my wifely duty, to spend time with him after a long, hard day, maybe have sex, and be asleep before midnight. I HATE THAT. But do I hate that expectation? Or do I hate that I can’t adhere to that expectation because it’s so damn hot that I’m more productive between 9pm and 5am and there’s really no reason in the world, since both of my kids are in school all day, that I can’t sleep the day away?

I ponder this like crazy every single spring and make myself mental over it until about mid-June when I’m finally like, “fuck it” and keep the hours I want to keep. Nay, need to keep. Because like I said, who has the expectation of me that I be diurnal? No one important. No one whose opinion I should really care about. My shrink doesn’t like the idea but she’s not opposed to it either. As long as I get enough sleep, she pretty much leaves me alone on the issue. (Sleep is very important to maintaining good mental health when you’re bipolar or have other mental illnesses.)

Every spring, like clockwork, I hit this phase where my natural body clock resets itself or something  and for about 2 weeks I get really bad insomnia. That’s what’s been happening for the last week & a half or so and like I do every year, I try to fight it because of this pressure I feel to conform to the “9-5″ workday model of sleeping and every year it’s useless because by the end of that 2 week period, I end up right where I am now and much happier for it.

The opposite thing happens in the fall. In the fall I start wanting to be awake during the daylight hours because I have S.A.D. and there’s a 2 week period where my sleep’s all screwed up while my body adjusts to a completely opposite schedule.

….and I feel like I’ve made this post before. Do I make this post every year? I may have to go back and check that.

Anyway, the kids are home now and I’m going to bribe Madison with freezies to get her to water my gardens. She’d probably do it just because I asked her, but I know what it feels like to be “paid” for services rendered, so I went with the freezies thing.

I think what I’m going to do right now is get a piece of cardboard and matte medium little swatches of every pink patterned scrapbook paper I have to it and then spray the whole thing, after it dries, with Krylon to see if the Krylon also turns pink dyes into orange like my normal Triple Thick varnish does.

Yes, I think that’s what I’m going to do.

PS. I am 26 days smoke-free.

For all intents and purposes, yesterday was a good day. A very good day. I woke up at 6am, did internetting until the rest of the family woke up so I could use the blender to make a protein “shake” which isn’t so much a shake or even a smoothie because it’s just protein powder, milk and ice. I hate bananas and yogurt with a fiery passion, so the odds of me ever making a proper smoothie are probably slim to none and I think adding ice cream to make a shake is probably defeating the purpose.

I did get Blake to buy me some Nestle Quick chocolate squirty stuff though, because the supposedly chocolate flavour protein powder we bought doesn’t actually taste like chocolate. It SMELLS like chocolate, oddly enough, but really, it doesn’t taste like anything (and I don’t like plain milk). There is only 15 calories in 1 tablespoon of Nestle Quick. I figure I’ll probably use 2. Anyway, none of this is neither here nor there.

As I consumed my protein beverage, the family got ready to go to work and school and the sun was shining and I just felt warm inside my heart. It was going to be a good day, I could tell. And while I don’t really participate in the family getting ready for work or school, sometimes I like being awake for it because it really is the time in which all 3 of them are the most themselves, together. That’s probably hard to explain, but it’s like concentrated Madison, concentrated Wes, concentrated Blake all within this frantic chaos of getting out the door on time. It’s one of those things that occur in family like that I just sometimes like to sit back and watch, or more to the point, listen to.

So for about an hour it’s all loud and everyone’s rushing around (except Wes, who leisurely eats his cereal and talks to his favourite imaginary friend of the week, for the most part) and they’re all being extremely unintentionally funny, but the second the car leaves the driveway, bound for school and work, the house becomes absolutely silent in this perfect way that, to me, is absolutely calming. The dogs have each claimed a still-warm bed, the cat is sprawled out on the couch sleeping, and I haven’t turned on TweetDeck yet or iTunes. The only sound is the gentle hum of my computer and the lamp on my desk whose spiral lightbulb is due to blow any day now, if the buzzing coming out of it is any indication.

So after they leave, I just kinda sit here and absorb. I look out the window, I say “hi” to the sun, I check on my plants, I drink my protein beverage and then I just sit in my chair and kind of clear my mind and do a mini-meditation. I never know what I’m going to do on any given day. I never really attack a day with a plan of any sort. I wake up when I wake up. I eat when I eat. I make art when I feel like it. I watch movies while I make art (it’s very difficult for me to just watch a movie). I take pictures of things when something catches my eye. I have dance parties with the dogs. I sing. I make strange noises because no one’s home and I can. I read a lot. Every day is different, unstructured and unplanned. Most days are neutral, some days are good and a few days are very very bad.

Yesterday was good, as I said.

After Blake and the kids left, I did some more internetting, this time with more of a purpose. There are many places I visit online that I’ve been visiting for so long that posting to them daily is almost like a requirement and in some cases, kind of like a job. It’s the beginning of the month, that means all votes on Camwhores have been set to zero, as everyone knows, but it also means that our points have been set to zero as well. “What are points?” you might be asking yourself. Well, they’re participation points where, for participating in the community, you are given points, which translate to money at the end of the month. I’d like to think I’m very very good at working this system, so that’s what I mean about some places I go to on my internet travels are kind of like work. Yesterday I had a personal quota of making X amount of threads and posts in the Camwhores forum and a blog post, but it was loose in that my threads and posts would be things I was genuine about posting. I don’t post for the sake of points, I post because I’m interested in having a conversation with whoever else is responding to threads, either their or mine. The quota isn’t so much a quota for points necessarily, but something that I use to make sure I don’t spend more time on the forums than I should because I have other things to do and get sucked into the forums I go to daily very easily.

I had actually come up with some forum topic ideas over the weekend that I didn’t have time to post, so I posted them, wrote my blog post and then I actually went outside and sat in the chair under my carport that was formerly used for sitting in while smoking. It was still early enough in the morning that the sun was streaming in, under the carport, and hitting my face, so I just sat there for about 10 minutes soaking it in. While I was out there, I saw 2 robins, a bunch of red-winged blackbirds and the teeniest glimpse of a cardinal that’s been hanging around in the pine tree beside our driveway some days.

When I came inside I realized that I was actually still really tired considering I’d gone to bed around 1am the night before and then got up at 6, so I decided to take a nap. I woke up at 1:48pm, let the dogs out, then went around the house opening windows because it had to be about 25 degrees outside. When I went to open the living room windows, I saw that my bleeding hearts were in full bloom, so I went into my office, grabbed my camera and opened the door to go take pictures of them when I noticed that on the doorknob was a delivery notice from Canada Post saying that they were there at 1pm. I believe that they were there, but I sincerely doubt that they actually knocked on the door because when someone knocks on our door, no matter how faint, Hoover and Lucky go mental and will not stop barking until the door’s opened and they see the person’s okay. If Hoover and Lucky go mental because someone knocks on the door, traditionally I wake up. I don’t actually answer the door because 9 times out of 10 it’s either a delivery (they’ll come back) or a Jehova’s Witness (don’t care if they come back) and I don’t like strangers seeing me moments after waking up from a small coma.

The delivery notice said that we could pick up the package at the post office after 2pm, so I called Blake and asked if he was planning on leaving work early because it was Monday and generally on Monday’s he has Judo and therefore comes home early. He said he wasn’t going to Judo but that he could come home early to get this package. The odd thing about this package was that it was addressed to me and required a signature and the only thing I was expecting was the new Gogol Bordello CD from Amazing, which would not require a signature. Whatever this package was, was a mystery. Blake reminded me that I’d signed a form at the post office saying that he can sign for my packages, so he said he’d pick this one up on his way home from work, pending the thing I signed hadn’t expired.

After I got off the phone with him, I picked my camera back up and went outside to take pictures of my bleeding hearts and the lone baby tulip I have that just began to bloom over the weekend. (I think I’ve now photographed everything in my garden that’s going to bloom before July, so the first official “Keep Off the Lawn” post should be coming soon, for those who are into those.) While I was out there, I noticed a LOT of growth happening from plants that had seeded themselves in the fall and thought about what a shame it’ll be when we decimate them this weekend with the sod cutter because that sneaky sneaky grass, I swear, grew over the winter somehow and is now taking about about 1/3 of the bottom of my garden. No matter though, the sod cutter makes easy work of removing it and we can move this grass to the backyard where there is no grass, just weeds, and my friend Ruggedo send me PLEEEEEEEEEENTY of seeds this year to make the front look amazing. On my list of things to do is to buy a canvas the same size as my current “Grow Dammit!” sign and paint a new one using the colours of the garden, but financially, doing so hasn’t been high on my priority list, which is why I haven’t done it yet. I also meant to do it last year as well, but again, the same thing.

When I came inside, I put my camera away and did a little more internetting for a few minutes and then I decided that it was time to work on the two canvases I began prepping over the weekend and who were waiting for the splatter stage in my process. These ones were actually going to be a bit of a challenge because one of them is going to be a repainted version of “Shimmer“, which is the one Madison accidentally destroyed by letting it bounce off the corner of the shelf it was sitting on, causing the canvas to rip and the varnish to basically shatter. If you’ll recall, “Shimmer” is actually 1 in a series of 3 and my intention for all 3 was to put them in The Square Foot Show in July. That’s still my intent, so “Shimmer” needs to be reproduced. The challenge with these canvases is that the splatter technique I used for all 3 of those paintings is different than the technique I’ve been using for the past year and I wasn’t sure I remembered how to achieve the same effect so all 3 would continue to match and look like a set.

Over the weekend I went through journals from last year (I write down pretty much everything) and found where my former technique – which in retrospect is actually the superior technique – differed from my current technique and I was fairly confident I could repeat the background accurately for the new “Shimmer”. The second canvas I was prepping is for a turquoise version of “Love Fairy”, the painting I just sold so since the only difference between that one’s background and “Shimmer”‘s background is different types of glitter, it made sense to work on both of them at the same time.

So, I put on the movie It’s Complicated while I splattered the canvases and while they dried on the coffee table I started drawing my girls for both paintings. It’s Complicated was actually an uplifting movie for me, similar to the way Something’s Gotta Give was also uplifting to me. For one, I love Meryl Streep, I mean, how can you not love Meryl? And Alec Baldwin was in it, as well as Steve Martin (who, oddly, was not at all funny). But it was uplifting in that movies like this, where the theme is kind of about aging but still having fun, give me hope that life is just going to keep getting better. I kinda knew that was true, just from watching my mom get older and really come into her own after hitting 40, but it’s nice to see validation of that through movies with actors who are actually playing characters who are around their actual age. So watching that actually put me in a better mood than the good mood I was already in.

When the movie ended, I just kept drawing my girls with the TV off, enjoying the silence that was about to be broken by the fact that the kids would be bursting through the door in about half an hour and right on cue, they did, and Wes was crying because Madison actually elbowed him in the head when she was waving goodbye to one of her friends. Madison also had to report that Wes had taken off on her to go play with another kid and I had to give Wes shit of that because that’s simply not allowed. Madison’s in charge on the way home from school and to be safe, he has to do what she says. So he said okay, apologized to Madison, they both fixed their afternoon snacks and ate them while watching TV, then Madison started her homework while Wes played with toys. During all this, I did – take a wild guess – more internetting. Mostly catching up with everything my friends tweeted about during the day when I had TweetDeck closed and commenting on those things.

I intended to either watch another movie or see if Oprah was going to be of interest while I worked on my girls some more, but by the time I was finished internetting, Blake came through the door with a giant Amazon box. Blake’s mom asked for the kids’ wishlist last week, which I found obnoxious because the url’s been the same for oh, 6 friggin’ years now and you would think that at some point she would have, I dunno, BOOKMARKED IT, or maybe checked the TWO PLACES it’s available online, in plain sight, on my site and Live Journal, which we know she reads. Anyway, when I saw the box, I assumed it would be birthday presents for Madison from her and Charlie because the other Amazon package was clearly my CD and as I said, that was the only thing I was expecting so I shoo’d Madison out of the room and opened the box.

The first thing I see is the Battlestar Galactica boxed set. Um, what? I grabbed the packing slip and closed the box’s lid, telling Blake to hang on, that this was definitely not from his mom and definitely not all for Madison. It was from my friend Charlie who, on the odd occasion, likes to surprise our family with gifts because he’s awesome that way. So I called everyone in and played Santa Claus. I told Madison that her gifts were for her birthday and I told Wes that his gifts were for his birthday too.

After the kids left with their haul and Blake went to put his Battlestar Galactica on the shelf on his desk, I cried. I had just had the best day I’d had in a long time and the gifts from Charlie tipped something in my brain, like overloaded it with positivity that I just bawled. I mean, the things he picked out for me were great things, but what really had me excited was Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution book, which is half cookbook and half cooking lesson about how to feed your family real food as opposed to processed shit. His “revolution” is teaching people how to cook again because so many families don’t anymore and while Blake and I do cook, we really only know how to make about a dozen things between the two of us and our whole family is getting mighty sick of those dozen things. I mean, Charlie didn’t just pick out a gift with this one, he enabled us to nourish our family better and I don’t even think he understands the gravity of that. And maybe I’m being melodramatic, but to me that is a very very big deal and I cried and cried and cried.

As the kids began to watch Avatar (one of Charlie’s gifts) Blake and I went in the kitchen and worked on dinner together, which is something that also rarely happens and it felt good being in the kitchen together. It always feels good when we’re partners in crime. I started cutting up craploads of basil to make this basil/garlic/olive oil pasta that I make (with lots of vegetables) and Blake got out the biiig pot and set it on the stove to boil while he searched the cupboards for the tri-colour pasta I asked him to get during our last big grocery shopping. He couldn’t find it and decided he must not have gotten any, so he turned the stove off and went to the grocery store to get some as I continued chopping basil. For this pasta, 1 package of fresh basil will DO, but really, I think you should use 3, which is how much I was cutting up. Then I put it in a bowl and added about half a bottle of olive oil and about half a jar of minced garlic with maybe two teaspoons of salt, some ground pepper (I hate pre-ground pepper, it’s always too powdery and I just don’t like it) and a bit of parmesan. With those quantities, obviously we make a lot of this when we make it because it’s good for lunches and afterschool snacks the next day. It’s also healthy and CHEAP.

Anyway, while Blake was at the store, I used our biggest Tupperware container (which is also the container we store the finished product in), loaded it with fresh snow peas, a whole bag of frozen broccoli, half a bag of frozen green beans and carrots and a few handfuls of regular frozen peas with a bit of water at the bottom, put the lid on and started the microwave for about 13 minutes. By the time I was done doing that, Blake was home with the pasta, the water was back on to boil and my part in the kitchen was finished. The rest was up to him to drain, assemble and mix, which is just how we roll.

While the pasta was cooking, Wes decided to watch Avatar with Madison (he’d previously deemed it too scary and drew flowers in the kitchen instead) and we said that they could eat in the living room while they watched it. I had already started diving into the Jamie Oliver book and was busy putting Post-Its on the pages with stuff I think I’d eat, or at least try, if Blake made it, with notes on variations I’d use, such as “no goddamn peppers in anything”, when dinner became ready. Blake decided to eat in the living room with the kids and watch Avatar while I ate while I read.

We didn’t realize how long Avatar was and it was fast becoming time for the kids to go to bed, so we told them to remember which part they were on and that they could watch it today after school. So Blake did most of the dishes, with Madison doing the tail end while Wes got ready for bed and then when the dishes were done, Madison got ready for bed and then we were kid-free.

It had started really cooling off outside so I went around the house and started closing windows, then I came back into my office and read some more of the Jamie Oliver book until Blake came in to join me. Even though I had had a nap, I was exhausted from not getting enough sleep, but I wanted to make sure I was for sure going to fall asleep (because sometimes when I’m in a good mood, I can’t sleep, which kinda sucks) so Blake & I decided to watch Gossip Girl, Nurse Jackie and The United States of Tara, which are 3 of my favourite shows, before going to bed.

During Tara, Blake gave me a massage and when it was over, we went to bed. Except we didn’t go to sleep and here’s where things take a downturn. I said, “I think I’m manic,” and he said, “you’re not manic, you just had a good day, you started your day off with protein, which gives you energy and you just had a good day from there” and then I started crying because I was afraid I was going crazy. Here’s the problem with me, which is something I think I’m probably going to have to bring up to my shrink when I see her on Friday: the happiest I have ever been in my whole entire life, I was completely out of my fucking gourd and it ended with psychosis and hospitalization. So, I am very suspicious of “happy”. Too much “happy”, especially if I’m alone when it happens, and I’m convinced I’m manic and I’m going to go crazy and that scares me more than anything. The more I talked to Blake about how scared I was that I was manic, the more panicked I became until I was pretty much inconsolable and snotting all over my sheets. It took Blake until about 2:30am to convince me that everything was fine and that I should just go to sleep.

And today hasn’t been a good day. It should have been, I’ve got new books to read and paintings to paint and movies to watch and the sun’s shining, but when I have exceptionally good days like I did yesterday, they are almost always followed by an exceptionally bad day, which I think is just the nature of my disease. My meds are stable though, as far as I know, but it wouldn’t surprise me if, after telling my shrink all about this, she doesn’t raise my mood stabilizers as I’m only taking 3/4 of the full dose. But if it’s not the drugs, if the drugs are already doing what they’re supposed to be doing and this is more of a psychological thing then I think I fucking need therapy because it happens way too often. I mean, who the fuck is afraid to be happy? Besides me, I mean? That’s not normal. I mean, obviously I have a completely rational explanation for why I distrust happiness NOW, but really, my whole life, I’ve never even really believed in happiness. I always thought people who claimed to be happy were either lying or delusional. And then the time in my life where I was unbelievably happy and in a good mood every day for months, I was nuts.

My shrink’s told me a million times to trust my drugs, but I guess the bottom line is that I don’t. Or I’m afraid to. I don’t know which one it is but I think it has to change.

So that’s my story.

Let me start out by reassuring anyone thinking it: this has nothing to do with depression. I am not depressed. (Today, anyway.)

When I was diagnosed with bipolar I, the only two people who were surprised by it was me and my step-mother who doesn’t know me very well and who still doesn’t think I’m bipolar. The truth of the matter is, I am probably one of the most bipolar people ever to be born on this Earth and looking back, it’s very obvious that I’ve been bipolar my whole life, not just in mood, but in mannerism.

My ex, Chris, used to say that the thing he loved the most about me was my passion and the thing he hated the most about me…was my passion. About a year ago on Facebook, I did some quiz meme and the last question said something like, “Say something random about yourself” and I wrote, “When I love something, I really really love it. When I hate something, I really really hate it”. Chris replied to that saying it was probably the most true statement he’s ever read on a quiz.

And that’s the thing. There is very little grey area to my life. Things are either black or white, negative or positive. I either love something or I hate something, there is no “like”. A day is either good or bad, there is no in-between. A place is either awesome or awful. Ideas are either genius or stupid. And sometimes, people are too.

When I find a food I like, I eat that food every day until I never want to see that food again and chances are, I’ll never eat it again. When I find a new band, they’re the greatest thing I’ve ever heard and I have to find/buy everything they’ve ever put out. If I hear a song I like, it’s the greatest song I’ve ever heard. (And if I hear one that I don’t like, it’s the worst piece of crap I’ve ever heard.) When I get interested in a subject, I have to learn everything I can about it. I become both obsessed and dismissive easily. I’m afraid of both success and failure because I can’t see that there’s anything in between. Prior to medication, I was either happy or sad, there was no middle ground.

While I actually like some of these traits, I’m not sure it’s healthy to be as polarized as I am on pretty much everything. Blake and I got talking about things the other night and we decided that I need to start letting in a little more grey. Even he & I aren’t totally sure what that means (especially me), except that it’s time to change my way of thinking and being, because how I operate now isn’t serving me as well as it once did.

What Blake and I were talking about specifically is how I never finish anything and why. I finish paintings, so I consider myself more successful as an artist than I do a writer because even though I write every day, nothing of substance has ever been published (I don’t count the Marketing Magazine articles as real publishing even though others might). And the reason nothing of substance has ever been published is because I never finish those projects and I never finish those projects because I fear both success and failure.

The piece of writing I’m working on now – or at least what I was working on – is a really solid idea and could very easily (we think) be published in any number of ways. Where the grey comes in is that I need to stop worrying about what comes after I finish. I need to learn how to worry about that later and just finish. And I realize I’m going completely against my own new philosophy by writing this next part, but after it’s finished, I need to not worry about success or failure because my ideas of both are actually kind of warped. I worry about success because of expectation. If I finish this and it gets published and people like it (and I consider publishing it at all successful)  and talk about it, then people will expect me to write and publish something else and I don’t want that pressure. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s failure. Failure is that it gets published (or it doesn’t and I’m rejected repeatedly), people don’t like it, people criticize it and I want to crawl under a rock. Where’s the grey area there? Because I totally don’t see it. I see the grey area prior to finishing, that I shouldn’t worry about everything I just wrote and should just finish it, but I don’t see the grey in what comes next. Do you?

Plus there’s the fact that I don’t see the point in finishing a piece of writing if no one’s ever going to see it.

Another example of me not seeing the grey is yesterday. Yesterday I did a bunch of things that were positive and I was having a great day and then the dogs got loose and I had to chase them all the way to hell and back. In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t leave my house very often and in telling Blake about the dog incident, I said, “I’m so scarred I may not leave the house for like, two months,” and that’s where he pointed out that I wasn’t seeing the grey. I left the house because  a shitty incident happened, the shitty incident didn’t happen because I left the house.

Now I’m not promising overnight changes here or anything. Like I said, I’m not even totally sure what “seeing the grey” even means because as it stands now, I don’t really see it, so it’s going to take me a while to adopt this new life philosophy but I plan on working on it just to see what happens. No doubt there will be remnants of my bipolar-ness that I won’t want to remove because I like those aspects of myself and hey, a leopard can’t change its spots, but I’m going to try, with Blake’s help and maybe yours too, to figure this shit out and try living a different life to see where that leads me. Who knows? This could be the key to everything or it could be another dead end, but I feel that it’s worth trying.

So that’s what “Shades of Grey” is in reference to. I’m glad you’re all along for the ride.