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Feb. 9th, 2004
Cooking thing
Feb. 9th, 2004 01:42 amCrock pot time!
I saw a lonely potato, and a bag of carrots in the bottom of the refrigerator. Soup time! Peeled, cut, dumped in crock pot with a can of corn, water, onion powder, chicken soup cubes, some parsley, a little basil, and a touch of garlic.
It's carrot-heavy right now. It really wants about three more potatoes, or maybe some beans.
I saw a lonely potato, and a bag of carrots in the bottom of the refrigerator. Soup time! Peeled, cut, dumped in crock pot with a can of corn, water, onion powder, chicken soup cubes, some parsley, a little basil, and a touch of garlic.
It's carrot-heavy right now. It really wants about three more potatoes, or maybe some beans.
Peace, quiet, water
Feb. 9th, 2004 01:53 amTonight was a good night for water. I slipped out to the hot tub somewhat after 9:30, and enjoyed My Enemy, My Ally a bit. I dangled my legs in the big pool for a while, and watched the ripples. Water always relaxes me.
I don't think I've been swimming in the longest time. I really do need to make time for it, as it's something essential to me that I miss.
I don't think I've been swimming in the longest time. I really do need to make time for it, as it's something essential to me that I miss.
Sleep, GSU
Feb. 9th, 2004 03:01 amI need sleep. My sleep schedule's been wacked lately. I think I've been getting enough, but it's been at very unusal times.
I stand to inherit the presidency of the GSU at DeVry. This scares me more than I think I can say. I don't know if I have the energy, the time, the ability to talk to people, the leadership. I am excellent at remote administration from a text-based online interface. Face-to-face, I have problems. I'm getting more reclusive, not less.
I stand to inherit the presidency of the GSU at DeVry. This scares me more than I think I can say. I don't know if I have the energy, the time, the ability to talk to people, the leadership. I am excellent at remote administration from a text-based online interface. Face-to-face, I have problems. I'm getting more reclusive, not less.
The Good Drugs
Feb. 9th, 2004 03:34 amSt. John's Wort seems to have been working its good works upon me. I'm again feeling something approaching a normal energy level, with only the normal existential melancholy of midnight when I stay awake past the time when I really ought to sleep.
I suppose that's a side effect. When I'm at a normal energy level, with my mind in its normal place, I never want to go to sleep at night. Not until I'm exhausted.
I think I'm 'present' again. But then, I never know if I'm absent until I look back afterwards. I refer to that, afterwards, as the 'black cloud' -- if I only have my textual word for having lived through a period, plus scattered snapshots, but I can't really identify with myself from then, if I have a difficult time putting myself back into my own shoes -- then I say that I was under a black cloud, and I can't remember. And I can't. I have most of my junior year of high school lost. I was on autopilot. Autopilot is for concerts, not living.
At least interacting with and being there for Little Fayoumis leaves me present, mostly, because he's got homework questions, and life questions, and so forth. He does cute kid things, and I write them up, and I stay here. Same with the cats. It's perilously close to doing that which I despised BJ's mother for doing: she defined herself through her friends, pets, and extracurricular activities. With her, it was as if she had given up living for herself, and was clinging to her friends, family, and activities as if they were life itself. I'm still trying to maintain myself as an entity with an independant joy in life, and my joy in friends and activities as a side effect of my being myselves, rather than the whole point of it.
I suppose that's a side effect. When I'm at a normal energy level, with my mind in its normal place, I never want to go to sleep at night. Not until I'm exhausted.
I think I'm 'present' again. But then, I never know if I'm absent until I look back afterwards. I refer to that, afterwards, as the 'black cloud' -- if I only have my textual word for having lived through a period, plus scattered snapshots, but I can't really identify with myself from then, if I have a difficult time putting myself back into my own shoes -- then I say that I was under a black cloud, and I can't remember. And I can't. I have most of my junior year of high school lost. I was on autopilot. Autopilot is for concerts, not living.
At least interacting with and being there for Little Fayoumis leaves me present, mostly, because he's got homework questions, and life questions, and so forth. He does cute kid things, and I write them up, and I stay here. Same with the cats. It's perilously close to doing that which I despised BJ's mother for doing: she defined herself through her friends, pets, and extracurricular activities. With her, it was as if she had given up living for herself, and was clinging to her friends, family, and activities as if they were life itself. I'm still trying to maintain myself as an entity with an independant joy in life, and my joy in friends and activities as a side effect of my being myselves, rather than the whole point of it.
Somebody's affectionate today.
Feb. 9th, 2004 11:03 amCat was just purrsniffling my toes, nosing them, and licking them. This is not entirely ordinary.
I am wary of the purrsniffle, because usually it means she's in vacuum cleaner mode. She was much more picky about what she picked up off the floor to eat when she was a hen!
I am wary of the purrsniffle, because usually it means she's in vacuum cleaner mode. She was much more picky about what she picked up off the floor to eat when she was a hen!
Bad Advice (Free)
Feb. 9th, 2004 01:57 pm![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
grifyn is handing out bad advice for free. Go, with your dilemmas, and ask!Joy, joy, joy.
Feb. 9th, 2004 09:23 pmSing ho for my school schedule! Sing ho for me probably having to take one class at a time! Sing ho for me taking so long at an expensive school that I've got $1,600 in loan help left to get me through two and a half tri!
Three cheers for parents who kick my ass through school.
Three cheers for parents who kick my ass through school.
Timber the Psychotic Rooster
Feb. 9th, 2004 09:53 pmWhen swallowtayle started playing the violin at age four or so, she wound up going to these one-week summer violin programs. Since I had given up the violin in tears, frustration, agony, and angst, as only a five or six-year-old who's not used to spending the whole day in school and furthermore can't bend her wrist that way and even furthermore won't practice can, I was not going to Suzuki Institute. Since FatherSir worked full-time, and Mama had to shepherd swallowtayle around to all the different activities, and I wasn't much for sitting around bored, Mama had to think of something to do with me. So she stuck me for the week with various friends of hers. The first year, I was with her friend who made the plush fish, but after that, I was with my virtual aunt.
My virtual aunt had chickens too. I liked chickens. They were feathery, warm, pretty, soft, pettable, and you could play with them. So I would go out to the henhouse with my virtual cousin, and we would catch chickens to play with.
There was one cute little banty rooster named Timber. I liked him, because he was cute, with pretty feathers, and he was easy to catch. He put up with me holding him. I think at one point I did find a doll dress that fit him. He put up with it with surprising grace, mostly because I had a firm hold on him, and he wasn't used to little girls picking him up and mauling him around.
My virtual aunt claimed that Timber was vicious, and not to be trusted. I didn't believe her, because Timbie behaved for me, didn't he? My virtual aunt was amazed that the bird was being so patient, or perhaps so shell-shocked, when I was playing with him.
Suzuki Institute finished, and I didn't think about Timber much. One day, after Mama got off the phone with my virtual aunt, she reported that Timber, who was never the best-behaved rooster around her, had gone beyond fighting with her feet, and had instead made an insane kamikaze leap onto her head while she was collecting eggs. She came back into the house bleeding, which resulted in my virtual cousin fainting.
Timber wasn't around very much longer, after that.
swallowtayle started playing the violin at age four or so, she wound up going to these one-week summer violin programs. Since I had given up the violin in tears, frustration, agony, and angst, as only a five or six-year-old who's not used to spending the whole day in school and furthermore can't bend her wrist that way and even furthermore won't practice can, I was not going to Suzuki Institute. Since FatherSir worked full-time, and Mama had to shepherd swallowtayle around to all the different activities, and I wasn't much for sitting around bored, Mama had to think of something to do with me. So she stuck me for the week with various friends of hers. The first year, I was with her friend who made the plush fish, but after that, I was with my virtual aunt. My virtual aunt had chickens too. I liked chickens. They were feathery, warm, pretty, soft, pettable, and you could play with them. So I would go out to the henhouse with my virtual cousin, and we would catch chickens to play with.
There was one cute little banty rooster named Timber. I liked him, because he was cute, with pretty feathers, and he was easy to catch. He put up with me holding him. I think at one point I did find a doll dress that fit him. He put up with it with surprising grace, mostly because I had a firm hold on him, and he wasn't used to little girls picking him up and mauling him around.
My virtual aunt claimed that Timber was vicious, and not to be trusted. I didn't believe her, because Timbie behaved for me, didn't he? My virtual aunt was amazed that the bird was being so patient, or perhaps so shell-shocked, when I was playing with him.
Suzuki Institute finished, and I didn't think about Timber much. One day, after Mama got off the phone with my virtual aunt, she reported that Timber, who was never the best-behaved rooster around her, had gone beyond fighting with her feet, and had instead made an insane kamikaze leap onto her head while she was collecting eggs. She came back into the house bleeding, which resulted in my virtual cousin fainting.
Timber wasn't around very much longer, after that.