We're All Mad Here » Rant

Dancing with the Stars…er…Therapist.

shell — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:47:24 +0000

Issue 1: Confront Your Fears.

Today I had my first therapy session: instead of Freud, however, it involved the Fox Trot and the Rumba. D and I have decided to forgo the traditional routes of “and how does that make you feel” by dealing with our issues in a more…direct way. And so, with much intrepidation and not nearly enough alcohol, I walked nervously into the dance studio.

Issue 2: Listen to Your Body.

I’ve always been fine with the cerebral of performing arts: writing and design and even memorizing the lines and spewing them in front of fans waiting on the edge of their seat…not a problem. But the few areas that require a person to expose themselves and to allow themselves to be vulnerable to the audience have always been the most mystifying to me. These, of course are always the parts and pieces that make a performance so intriguing–and just plain good. Hence I suck as an actress, or as a performing artist in general. Want me to parade around naked in front of an audience? No problem. Want me to lift my arm to express exasperation? Now we have a problem.

All it takes is some work, focus on where your body is, what it is doing…then stash it away in muscle memory and let your body do with it as it needs while you feel the energy of the moment. Not for me. Asking an Anorexic to listen to her body is like asking a paraplegic to wiggle their toes: it’s kind of mean. But it’s something that needs addressed.

Issue 3: Release Control and Learn to Follow.

Follow? Me? Hardly. ‘Nuff Said.

Issue 4: Relax and Have Fun

Why I love Scripps…

shell — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 00:36:53 +0000

copyshop by AGOK makes me happy.

They have a lactation room! Yay! (Apparently it is a state law in TN). I took a picture but…
I can’t get it off my phone…
And I left the memory card to the camera in my computer…
…at home…
and I got voted off the island…
and I’m missing my daughters…
after a plane trip on a noisy plane…
that came in at eight o’clock…
that left from a tiny airport surrounded by cows…
where the complaining tourists gathered…
two hours from the house…
where I broke into tears as I said good bye to my babies…
one Monday morning.

And I only point this out because I am in a surprisingly good mood despite it all. Because Scripps had a lactation room :)
…and I got to sit outside without getting heat exhaustion…
…or mauled by mosquitoes…
…reading a book…
…surrounded by trees…
…mountains…
…and weird grass…

and then I heard NIN was coming to Knoxville three days after I leave. And I was sad again.

Reusable Grocery Bags and “My Cold, Dead Hands”

shell — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 14:01:53 +0000

Plastic Bags with…Plastic Bags inside.hm part2 by scottwyden

I was going through the list of bloggers who will be at this years BlogOrlando Conference in September and came across Lorrie Delk Waker’s Banning Plastic Bags Article. Amused by the way people are associating (scapegoating) plastic grocery bags with civil rights, I gave my two cents which I’ll give here (it’s more like 20 cents…a bit long and warranted a blog entry more so than a comment.) Read the comments on the original post above including:

I would have to disagree with the ban on plastic bags. I understand your points, and I agree with your anecdotes as sort of egregious examples of waste, but I personally feel the government has absolutely no business telling me what kind of *grocery bag* I can use.

The old standby (paper) has always been there, and many stores are offering the new, reusable bags, and that is about as far as you can go without crossing the line. You can educate, you can offer, but God help you if you force. ~C. Rhode

“I don’t want the government telling me…” seriously? How many areas in your life, big areas does the government influence you in what you should and should not do? You seriously need to be kidding me if you are going to overlook those and get spiffed on a bag. Pick your four favorite months of the year…those four months you work your wages go straight to them, and that doesn’t make you a bit angry?

I mean, god forbid you be inconvenienced a few minutes each shopping trip to grab your own bags. And you can find great bags out there. Lacoste and Marc Jacobs make shopping bags upward of $200 if you are worried about the big green bag crashing your style.

The reality is… Think about how much junk we are leaving behind for our children. Look at your daughter, son, grandchildren…you wouldn’t consciously feed them poison but the waste of not only the bags themselves but the manufacturing process is building up in the air, soil and even the kids bodies.

If you don’t want to relinquish your precious bags because you don’t want people telling you what to do your a moron, or lazy. Neither of which I think is true. The real reason is you are afraid. Change is scary but it’s required or we will self destruct. You touch a stove, it’s hot and you get burned. Touching the stove doesn’t work. You know that now. You don’t do it again. This is where we are at now. Have you heard of the Pacific Vortex? Look at this map, it’s huge! 10 million tons of trash, mostly plastic in our oceans. Plastic that does not decompose. And plastic has only been around for less than 150 years. 10 million tons (and plastic is light, how much takes up a ton?) in less than 150 years. And it’s not going anywhere.

I love this article, seeing how San Francisco just passed a ban on them. The youth (and young at heart) are really taking to living responsibly. A lot of people don’t understand that the “modern conveniences” so readily handed to them are products of commerce and not necessarily of sustainable interest. If we keep pushing this idea from a marketing objective that the young are going green, eventually in our desperate pursuit of youth and beauty it will catch on. Probably with less hostility than “the government will pry my plastic bag from my cold, dead hand.”

What I Am NOT Blogging About

shell — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 20:12:40 +0000

Amy Butler Wide-Legged Lounge Pants, originally uploaded by Meryl CA.

In case you missed my bloglines addiction, I have one. And, thanks to the BlogHer conference going on last week, I have kept on top of my bloglines for a whole week…that’s right…ZERO outstanding posts. But I have noticed one thing…there is a flavr, and that flavr is:

- Amy Butler In Stitches Vintage Sheet Pants EVERYWHERE! (and here)(here)(here)(and don’t forget here)I would like a pair of these, really I would. They look so comfy, but I don’t have the time. I have 12 curtains and 4 quilts to finish before Christmas, preferably sooner. I could always buy them here.

- Freezer Jam. It’s strawberry season everywhere….but here. And so everyone is out at the Pick-your-own fields stocking their freezers and jammin’ in the kitchen. My kitchen is filled with the sounds… of crickets. No Strawberry Freezer Jam for you!

- Dooce @ Blogher… Dooce is talking about it (but only like “oh yeah, i was asked to speak at blogher, yawn, then I broke a nail and the dog dumped on the floor). Bossy is talking about it. Even this chick is talking about it. My goal next year is to get dooce to sign my chest. MOMMY BLOG GROUPIE! Wonder if I can drive there in a VW van. Sweet! OMG! It’s DOOOOOOOOCCCCEEEE! CAN I HAVE YOUR BABY?!?!?!?

- Renegade Craft Fair… Blog reading was so boring during the weeks following the renegade craft fair. It was like “look how cool we are to have this in our area…we walked here bringing our hip grocery carts in tow, right after we stopped at the neighborhood Whole Foods. What were you doing? Dodging old people in the street? Oh, on the sidewalk? LAME. Whatev.”

So everything cool happens in San Francisco, but you know what? I DON’T LIVE in SF. I live NEAR Miami, and this week we are going to Miami and I’m going to have Mojitos. AND MOJITOS…are so much cooler than hipsters. So whatever. SF has what? Fair Trade organic coffee? LAME. WE HAVE MOJITOS! WOHOOO!

So WHAT AM I blogging about?

My pee test. Yep. I got a pee test. They had to see what kind of goodies I’ve been pumping into my body. No weed? Good. But what is this? I think your caffeine intake is pushing “abuse”.

We got presents! The girls got matching vintage pillow case dresses from Grandma P, Webkins and a “I have SOL” outfit from Grandma L and Mimi brought mommy a fresh georgia peach this morning when she came to watch the girls for my out and abouts. Got that…FRESH GA PEACH. From like 70 miles away. Beat that with your freezer jam. YOU CAN’T! Oh no, you can’t!

Car shoppin’

shell — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 03:50:49 +0000

Police Staff Car – Ottawa 05 07, originally uploaded by Mikey G Ottawa.

We’re looking for a new car. Don’t tell Fifi, but as a one car family…we’re upgradin’ and I’m kinda sad. Our biggest concerns: space for >5 and good gas mileage. Apparently I am asking too much. Of course there are the hybrids, with their shiny exterior promising amazing gas savings…which you will need to pay off the hefty price tag. Is it worth it? Let’s say you drive 10,000 miles…city each year (worse case scenario) So…normal mcnormal car gets 20, shiny mchybrid gets 40 mpg. Will it pay off…10 years.

Normal McNormal: 10,000/20= 500 gallons @$5 (est.) = $2,500 * 10 years = $25,000

Shiny McHybrid: 10,000/40 = 250 gallons @ $5 (est.) = $1250 * 10 years = $12,500

- Normal McNormal costs $10,000 and uses $25,000 in gasoline = $35,000
- Shiny McHybrid costs $30,000 and uses $12,500 = $42,500

Why is this not working out? Let’s say gas prices go higher than $5, the scales may even out a bit more, true…but will I still be able to afford to drive anyway…prolly not.

Other notes: Normal McNormal (or Normal McYawn) actually gets higher gas mileage than 20 mpg city and Shiny McHybrind doesn’t include the extra money for special parts and the technician who knows what they hell they are doing with …MyHybrid. I don’t know. I hate cars. Why can’t we just have a trolley?

Recession?

shell — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 11:34:25 +0000

IndyMack Bank collapses, sending 200+ ppl to the bank yesterday demanding their cash. Looks familiar? No?

img via osgoodwisdom

Federal Reserve Chairman Ben S. Bernanke didn’t call it a recession today, but he might as well have.

Yeah dude. It was a recession last year.

Maybe former Sen. Phil Gramm isn’t the best person to make the case that much of America’s economic gloom is self-inflicted.

Yeah, but last century’s depression wasn’t exactly caused by unseen forces either.

Yet the former economics professor shared with Americans an important lesson. He was right that, despite what it feels like, the economy is not in a recession because there haven’t been two consecutive quarters of negative growth. He was right that the problem could be our response to adversity and our collective state of mind – what Gramm called a “mental recession.” Most of all, he was right that we’ve become “a nation of whiners” who find it easier to complain about our problems than to turn off the television, get off the couch and do something about them.

Well, kind sir, whiners cause recessions. A recession isn’t going to happen without a fall in consumer “optimism”. We whine, others hear, we all cut back on our spending and walla…the economy slows down. We FREAK THE HELL OUT and pull our investments from stocks, pull our money from banks and watch everything collapse like dominoes. One thing the media doesn’t tell you…it’s your own damn fault. They are too busy making you freak out. You’ll tune in, they get more ratings. But those ratings will eventually mean crap when the effects of their shock and awe tactics trickle down to their advertisers and they stop getting as much revenue.

In all honesty, knock on wood, our family really hasn’t been effected that much. Maybe because we haven’t lived outside of our means. We didn’t fall victim to the “american dream” ARM scandals, we still rent. We don’t have a big screen tv, an ipod, our kids don’t have sooo many toys that we cringe everytime a recall is made. We can still almost afford food minus towards the middle of the month, when, god forbid we actually have to get creative and turn the stove on and cook that frozen chicken/ a pie/ frozen veggies. Ick.

Gas has gone up. We get a tank a week at the most, but public transportation is right down the street and it is our own fault for not using it more often. A tank a week is costing us $80 more a month. There are 42 gallons in a barrel of gas, of crude oil which refines to 19 gallons-sih (and the rest is used for things like heating oil). Oil is at $139 a barrel or ruffly $3.31 a gallon before the cost of processing, transporting and distributing. $4.15 a gallon for gas seems about right. I doubt drilling in the states will help…anyone but the Bush families agenda.

No, I’m Sorry, You Are Out.

shell — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 17:59:52 +0000

Babble calls “elective c-sections” #4 on the top parenting trends... saying they aren’t sure that “too posh to push” is behind the trend (but acknowledging it’s existence by even mentioning it). Here is my thought on “too posh to push”… by the 24th hour and 6 epi stabs in the back…but no epi relief in sight…I was loving the idea of a c-section, mainly I was worried I would be too tired to push. But seriously, I would have been pissed if I ended up with a c-section. If you are aiming for posh, push the damn kid out. A big nasty scar isn’t going to look “hot” peeking out of those new mommy low riser hip huggers, now is it? Nope. So let’s get this right babble…posh push. corpro cuts. (ick.)

Does anyone know…was the new Bradgelinalitter IVF?

This has been your moment of vain. On to more relevant.

Coffeeeeeee

shell — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 18:04:45 +0000

Oh yeah, here is a new picture that has nothing to do with the post. ^

I have to pee for the ninth time in two hours after the pot of coffee I am running on makes its way through my system. Solaris just handed me a spatula out of the dishwasher (I’m in the living room) and I dodge every toy she and Iz own as I chase her up the stairs for some quality time with the back of her eyelids. I’m barely holding on.

Frantically trying to get an art portfolio up and running so I can start approaching people for shows. Need to start selling prints.

David’s talking me down over the deaths of two plants when the Post Office left them sitting an extra two days during the holiday (along with his pay check). It’s been almost raining for the whole morning, grumbling clouds smudging out the sun but the plants are telling me it’s not coming soon enough with their fainting spells. Bring the smelling salts.

Bryan lands in my email telling me, despite my breakdown, that I’m a “good mom”. Followed by Babble.com’s email about “good parents” letting their kids ride the subway home alone in NY (my uncle use to do that, until he got attacked…I know there is “cutting the umbilical cord” but I don’t think I want them growing up THAT fast, psycho keep smiling with your son) or giving their kids booze (a sip to a ten year old?, so what…not that big of a deal, but we have to write something about it, a flask to pre-k however, now you have my attention. Babble it yourself, I lost the link).

Then there’s this bullshit from CA where it’s illegal to homeschool students now. Seriously? You must have a credentialed teacher to teach them? Yeah, I’ve seen what a lot of those “credential” teachers did in their college years… I’m sure letting them get lostinthesysteminovercrowdedschoolswithbudgetcutspeerpressureschoolshootings is much better than what they can learn at home. When was the last time schools taught financial management course, entrepreneurial skills, or how to read a book before you graduate (much like our beloved senior football players at New Brighton who couldn’t read if their life depended on it…yeah Shanon, I’m talkin’ ’bout you, retard.)?

Cranky, need less procreation and more coffee and freedoms.

Meet the Press

shell — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 13:19:54 +0000

I turned on the television today for my daughter. The station comes in to two anchor people talking about Tim Russert. In their all too annoying break from journalistic integrity, the segment is entitled something like “What can we learn?” and they go on about what was done wrong bothin the life of Russert and in the aftermath of his heart attack. I turn the channel to Do Do (Dora) and sit down at the computer slightly annoyed. I, recent graduate of my third certification in CPR and First Aid as of Saturday, know what went wrong. He was mortal, we all are.

I had this happy idea that if you preform CPR long enough/sincerely enough/prayed hard enough/carried the right talismen/wore the right shoes somehow the person would magically snap out of it, jump up, shake your hand and walk away. But, for some reason the statement “keep going until medical help arrives or until the person regains consciousness” didn’t seem right after the sixth thime I heard it in ten minutes, so I asked the wrong question…

“How often does a person regain consciousness during CPR?” It wasn’t answered. Instead I got “The chance of a person walking out of the ER two days later is 5%, this chance is increased to 50-60% with the use of an AED. With children, the prognosis is less than that.” So with that, my happy fantasy of the eighty year old jumping up and skipping away down the street was shattered. But then the perspective…

“If you are performing CPR on someone, they were dead the moment their heart stopped, all you are doing is everyting in your power to bring them back.” CPR isn’t about sustaining life, it’s about playing God. Truth is, Russert was dead when he hit the floor, no amount of CPR or AED would have changed that unless the fates deemed it, and an AED is only useful if his heart was in some sort of weird arythmia (V. fib), so if it stopped completely the unit wouldn’t have shocked him anyway. Most CPR done by paramedics is just for show, to give the family a sense of hope. It makes sense.

Not all the press is exploiting this the way Channel 3 has, NBC released these photos of the cast of Meet the Press breaking into tears during a taping…these intimate photos they probably had no right in releasing if they had any part of a soul. Might as well make one last ditch effort to capitalize off the man, right?

Bonaroo…

shell — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 11:06:16 +0000

Travel back with me, will you, to 2003-ish. Sitting in the publishing house talking to one of the reps about a Jam festival she was heading to that weekend. I think names like OAR and such were passed around. Ah, Bonaroo, the giant music festival in the west. How you tempted me for years and yet I still never made it to you Elysian-esque Fields.

I wake up this morning to this…article about Metallica and Chris Rock opening this year’s festival. WTF? I’m not a big “WTF” person, but this deserves a big, giant expletive.

In a bit in his set about Prozac and other medications, Rock chastised the crowd, who he said was likely on “performance-enhancing drugs.”

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves for taking antidepressants to see a comedian,” joked Rock. “I am an antidepressant!”

Yeah….about that antidepressant. Sad face. David says “there’s always Coachella, but with a line up being led by Prince, I think I’ll pass.