Life: It's Just One Thing After Another

The last few months have been a real struggle. I mean, hey, if I can't be honest here, what the heck. Struggle. Yes. It's been one.

My body is still recovering from the celiac, I think (and recover is sort of a misnomer, isn't it, since I'll have it for the rest of my life). I wake up from nightmares that I'm eating bread. I still get glutened despite my best efforts to avoid it. And my immune system is still wacky: I've had a sinus infection, a bladder infection, and an acne breakout. It all makes me feel real sexy! 

In addition, my team (yes, team) of mental health professionals is trying to figure out if I might have a mood disorder, which would not at all be surprising considering my family history; I'm currently on FOUR psych meds, although I'm trying to get down to two. Two seems reasonable, in comparison. But I can't tell if my emotional swings are related to celiac or not, and I suppose I will find out in a year or two (that's how long my nutritionist says it will take for full healing). 

So, for the time being, I self-medicate with youtube videos (babies and kittens, I don't know, who am I) and escape by reading (got a kindle for xmas from my awesome dad) and dig my fingernails in and crawl to the end of every week. It will get better. I know this.

On Quitting Smoking, or Not

In a Word:

akrasia

n. weakness of will

“I see and praise what is better, but follow what is worse.” — Ovid

More Tiny Thingssss

Dollhouse version of a hoarder's house by Carrie M Becker

Just sayin

Celiac disease linked to depression in women:

“We found that most [study] participants frequently adhered to a gluten-free diet, and this greater compliance with diet was related to increased vitality, lower stress, decreased depressive symptoms and greater overall emotional health,” study co-author Josh Smyth, a professor of bio-behavioral health and medicine at Penn State University, said in a university news release. 

“However, even those people who were managing their illness very well reported higher rates of stress, depression and a range of issues clustered around body image, weight and shape when compared to the general population,” he added.

Suck on that, short term disability deciders.

With thanks to Liam, who reminded me of this poem. Happy Solstice, all.

from Toward the Solstice
by Adrienne Rich

...If history is a spider-thread
spun over and over though brushed away
it seems I might some twilight
or dawn in the hushed country light
discern its greyness stretching
from molding or doorframe, out
into the empty dooryard
and following it climb
the path into the pinewoods,
tracing from tree to tree
in the failing light, in the slowly
lucidifying day
its constant, purposive trail,
till I reach whatever cellar hole
filling with snowflakes or lichen,
whatever fallen shack
or unremembered clearing
I am meant to have found
and there, under the first or last
star, trusting to instinct
the words would come to mind
I have failed or forgotten to say
year after year, winter
after summer, the right rune
to ease the hold of the past
upon the rest of my life
and ease my hold on the past.

If some rite of separation
is still unaccomplished
between myself and the long-gone
tenants of this house,
between myself and my childhood,
and the childhood of my children,
it is I who have neglected
to perform the needed acts,
set water in corners, light and eucalyptus
in front of mirrors,
or merely pause and listen
to my own pulse vibrating
lightly as falling snow,
relentlessly as the rainstorm,
and hear what it has been saying.
It seems I am still waiting
for them to make some clear demand
some articulate sound or gesture,
for release to come from anywhere
but from inside myself.

A decade of cutting away
dead flesh, cauterizing
old scars ripped open over and over
and still it is not enough.
A decade of performing
the loving humdrum acts
of attention to this house
transplanting lilac suckers,
washing panes, scrubbing
wood-smoke from splitting paint,
sweeping stairs, brushing the thread
of the spider aside,
and so much yet undone,
a woman's work, the solstice nearing,
and my hand still suspended
as if above a letter
I long and dread to close.

meep

Some Organizations Pander Artlessly

You don't have to be a nerd to understand that SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act, in real life) is a bad, bad thing for the internet. Not least because many legislators don't understand what they're voting on. Or this.

According to wikipedia, "The bill would allow the U.S. Department of Justice, as well as copyright holders, to seek court orders against websites accused of enabling or facilitating copyright infringement. Depending on who requests the court orders, the actions could include barring online advertising networks and payment facilitators such as PayPal from doing business with the infringing website, barring search engines from linking to such sites, and requiring Internet service providers to block access to such sites."

Block. access. to. a. site.

Got a can of coke in your hand in that facebook profile pic? Could be a felony conviction, up to 5 years in jail. Not kidding. (And that's two copyright infringements right there!)

 From boingboing:

How SOPA will break DNS: In case you were trying to figure out how broken the Internet will be if SOPA passes, have a look at this article and this article from DynDNS, one of the world's leading DNS providers.

If you think this is all a bunch of goldarned hooey, contact your legislator and tell them so. You can tell them I sent you.

Oh, facebook

So I actually went out on Friday night to the artwalk, which isn't something I do all the time... Although when I do, it always seems to be winter. The truth is I don't like crowds, and getting tipsy on free, cheap wine is actually something to be weighed against the hangover that comes from free, cheap wine. My, how times have changed.

I had read about this facebook project, and was kind of excited to be interviewed for part of it (although really I did it to get yet another awkward picture of me posted online) at the artwalk last week. My photo (awkward!) is up on the facebook page of the facebook project, but none of my lengthy "one or two sentences" answer is attached yet.

I have been trying to figure out whether the project is completely masturbatory, or if it's the kind of sociographic-ish thing I'm into, and I haven't made up my mind. In its favor, I like art that is participatory, and I get really excited about anything that has the vaguest whiff of radio about it, which the recorder that was used to capture my half-formed ramblings about facebook friendship did. I'm looking forward to see where this project goes.

Back to reality

I'm returning to work (very) part time tomorrow. If you can, send me thoughts of energy and strength; it's the beginning of a grand experiment.

(photo via http://backstoryradio.org)

I've been feeling foresty

So here:

In a Word

nemophilist
n. one who is fond of the forest

chiminage
n. a toll for passage through a forest

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Original Page: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/FutilityCloset/~3/Tr1tfO1CCAM/

We are broke.

We are broke.

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Original Page: http://fuckyouverymuch.dk/post/12963409669

Why feminists shouldn't hate Twilight quite so much (maybe)

"This is an uncomfortable place for feminists, because this heroine is not particularly good at actualizing herself. Bella waits, she wallows, she thinks, and feels, and worries, and wonders. She does not actualize in the sense we have come to expect from our heroines, an expectation that, I might point out, is quite often based on a masculinist understanding of what being effective in the world looks like. Lisbeth Salander, the heroine of the popular The Girl With a Dragon Tattoo series, is emotionally stunted but, damn it, she actualizes herself! She punishes the people who hurt her, she sleeps with whomever she wishes, she zips around on a motorcycle, and she's a master computer hacker. In other words, our actualized female heroine might as well be a tiny man"

http://thehairpin.com/2011/11/our-bella-ourselves

(via the awl)

Chinese elderly citizens' choir covers Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance"

Video Link: "Lao Lai Qiao Gaga," from Hunan TV, China. (via @Theremina)

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Original Page: http://feeds.boingboing.net/~r/boingboing/iBag/~3/-JEsYqlcc0Y/chinese-elderly-citizen-choir.html

Uke-ular Power

And may I also add:

Agreed.

Please hold your applause till the end

Quick announcement: I am the proud owner of FIVE new pounds! Apparently the Hershey bar/ensure diet is working.

Ability

I have been resisting defining myself as disabled, even temporarily. I have no doubt at all that this is because of ableism on my part, with a hefty dose of good old New England Puritan work ethic thrown in: those who can't do for themselves are lazy; not working is sin; anything other than complete self-reliance is weakness. Well, that last bit may be some of my own issues as well.

I've been working since I was 14. The only time I have not worked was because of layoffs. I returned to full time work after 7 weeks of maternity leave. I've worked up to three jobs at a time to make ends meet. I work.

But when my short-term disability claim was denied, I had to reconsider. I reflexively thought, "what are these people thinking? I CAN'T work right now, even though I want to." And then I recoiled against the truth of that thought.

Can't.

It's the truth. I am temporarily unable. I am lucky in that this is not (I hope) a permanent situation. I will get better, with time and care.

But for now, I can't, and now I need to prove that for an appeal. That means embracing my status without judgment or shame. It's not easy, and it adds to my stress and depression, but it's the absolute truth.

When I used to do anti-oppression trainings, I used to say that if you don't see some kind of -ism as a privilege, you probably have that privilege. It's easy to recognize your own lack of privilege: ask a woman if sexism exists and she'll most likely tell you a dozen stories that prove that it does. Ask a queer person if heterosexism or genderism exists and they could open magazine and show you six examples in six seconds. But while I have recognized ableism as a sort of abstract problem, I had never experienced it on my own, and never had to confront it in my own self.

And here it is, another lesson sent to me by the universe to be learned the hard way. I am learning, I am getting better, and I will carry this lesson forever.

Opiate abuse and Occupation

Good article in the Press Herald on opiate abuse; the first of a five-part series. It's like they've been hanging out at my job. (But still really do a good job not demonizing poor people.)

The epidemic has affected Mainers of all ages and backgrounds; middle schoolers and senior citizens, clam diggers and doctors.

"No family is immune from this particular issue,"; said Troy Morton, chief deputy of the Penobscot County Sheriff's Office. "They are the youngest of kids, in their early teens, and people in their 70s. They are the poorest of the poor and the richest. There are no boundaries."

Abuse often starts among teens, who don't understand the danger and are more vulnerable to addiction. Addiction, meanwhile, is most common among young adults who were in their teens when the pills first flooded into Maine communities.

Link to the full story:

Painkillers in Maine: A cure that came with a curse

But I think the real solution is a rift that is very deep in our society. The tea party and the 99% exemplify this in a (relatively) positive way (in the sense that all activism is positive, not that I always agree with it).

I think that everybody feels it to some extent--those that don't hide their feelings behind addictions to drugs, alcohol, shopping, tv--all the things that distract us from what's really happening around and within ourselves.

I don't know what it is that is broken. Or the many things, more accurately. Maybe it's a lack of hope, explaining the popularity of Obama's campaign messaging and why it resonated with so many people. We want change; we want reason to hope. We want to find hope and love within ourselves, and reflected in the society in which we live.

I'm not nostalgic for a time that seems simpler in retrospect. I'm interested in how to move forward, using those lessons of history, to see a completely different society.

I don't know if it would work, given the size of the united states. Perhaps it would help to divide the country into regional blocs. Perhaps it would help if gas went up to $6 a gallon and people were forced to interact with each other on public transportation, and local food became cheaper than imported. 

Maybe if student loan debt were forgiven, like some of the 99% propose, a generation would see hope instead of a crushing future of debt payments. Maybe Internet should be funded and provided by the government, like libraries, so that people can communicate with each other in the modern day versions of traditional coffee-houses, exchanging ideas, debating, and engaging with each other. (And watching videos of cute kittens too, of course. And pr0n, inevitably, people being people).

Until this is done, people will continue to numb themselves from the incredible stress of 21st century living in whatever is the cheapest, easiest way. It's not even about the drug itself, I think--although addiction makes stopping incredibly difficult--it's about a people divided and confused, inundated into apathy, hopeless and lost, waiting for the bright shiny future we were promised--a future that actually waits just on the other side of a collective demand for it.

Shared with permission

I Am From
by The Teen

I am from Jen, [grandpa], [grandma]*
I am from ham and potato eaters, raw vegetable eaters, and bay leaves
From people who love to sing and play word games

I am from “love everyone” to “lieblings”
I am from Christians and Pagans
From a secretary, a president, a seamstress –but mostly from social working

From Munjoy Hill and the blueberry field
From gardens and deer surrounded by green

I am from bubbly, fanatical, but also confused and angry.

I am from tea, a bunny, embroidery and walking

I am from all over the world, but the best place is home


*I did not have their permission to link their names with this blog, so they are redacted.

Truth

The last two posts may have given the impression that I am despairing and lost or whatever. But the truth is that, while I am going through a tough time, I think that this time serves a purpose.  The last few years have been tough, and it's catching up with me. I have been given this grace period to recover both my body and mind and soul. It's a gift, and I'm grateful for it. Thank you for the support of my friends who read here; it means a lot to me.

Moving right along... here's some handy info if you find yourself in a bad situation during, say, a demonstration (with the caveat that NOBODY should DEFY the POLICE, of course, and also there has been a report that police zipties use metal clips and that this method is much harder in that situation. Not that you would run away from the police, OF COURSE. Because that would be ILLEGAL.)

All The Things

I do seem to be living under my own personal mercury retrograde. These last two weeks have been not just a shitstorm, but a shit pancake with a shit cupcake for dessert served on the nice silver.

I made a list tonight with my bro (not a relative, my bromance bro) of things that I don't want to talk about tonight and they include:

1. My atrophied intestines*
2. My ex-fiancee and the circumstances surrounding the end of our relationship
3. Celiac disease
4. Facial tattoos**
5. Money
6. Disability insurance
7. Medical records
8. Nonpayment of child support

I of course want to avoid these subjects because my mind does a crazy squirrel dance around these things all. day. long. I think about almost nothing else, and none of it is under my control, which leads me into a crazy stress spiral.

This is my brain.

Instead I would like to talk about

1. Occupy Maine. I spent a little time down there on Monday (was it Monday? I have zero sense of time/day/time of day right now). I'm excited about the movement, while simultaneously leery of the effectiveness of demonstrations. They were still getting organized on Monday, and seem to have made some progress, but I still feel burned by the lack of effectiveness of the GLOBAL demonstrations against the war in Iraq in 2001-2002.

And also, because of the nature of the demonstration ("occupation"), most of the people occupying are college-age people, because many people, myself included, have families, obligations, and/or chronic illnesses to care for. I'll spend some time there this weekend, I think... maybe I can convince them that being shunted off into a park is less effective than, say, occupying One City Center, where the Portland branch of Bank of America has its headquarters.

But I digress. I hope that this is a sign of real changes to come, but I'm an old, jaded activist these days.

2. Caramel Apple Dip:
Why is there even "apple" in the title? You/I know you/I just eat it with a spoon.

3. Amanda Palmer
I'm pretty much always willing to talk about Amanda Palmer. Seriously, any time.

4. Hanson Flash Mob:
I'm going. Are you? I spent some time flailing around in front of a youtube tutorial today. I'll probably do some more of that tomorrow.

*these are not mine because thank goddess I do not have cartoon intestines, but they look like this. Except not cartoon. I'm a 3.

**Just. Why?