The Further Adventures of Deluzy

Girl stuff

Hormones (to put it coyly) kept me from blogging yesterday. Or maybe it was the over-the-counter drugs.  Midol Complete tends to  make me dopey (despite the 60 mg. of caffeine in it). Or perhaps it's just that I've learned how to plunge myself into a stupor that's just above sleep so as to dull the pain of cramps and of inhabiting my body on Day One.  Whatever it was, my brain wasn't working enough to do anything.  Despite a healthier diet and increased exercise in recent weeks, the first day hit in full force, and I mostly just huddled under an afghan on the love-seat in my study, clutched a heated buckwheat pillow to my innards, and dozed.

Today will be a better day. Day 2 always is.

On other fronts, I've decided to offload the gel nails for now and see if I can stand going natural. I've worn gels or acrylics for 20 years because, as a little girl, I always wanted long nails and my own are very weak and break off before they do anything. In addition, I have short, stubby fingers, and I always thought longer nails disguised that a bit. (None of the girls in the family got my mother's long fingers, nails, or legs, more's the pity.) I've tried gelatin, vitamins, younameit ... but let's face it: I have thin hair and nails in my genes. Getting my nails done has always been the one kind of Barbie Doll indulgence I've gone for, and I've never cared that it looked artificial.  I liked the artificiality of it.

On the other hand, in addition to being expensive (I do not even want to calculate how much I've spent over the years on this particular habit, but it's in the thousands by now, and how silly is that -- especially when one is not rich?), it's certainly not good for one's real nails, and it's also time-consuming. That's my main complaint about it at this point in my life:  I really hate going every couple of weeks and sitting there for fills.  If I enjoyed the process, that would be one thing -- but I don't. The commodity I have least in my life at this point is time, and I chafe at the waste of it in the salon and would rather be doing something else.

So we'll see how I deal with the natural look for a little while. I cut down the gels last night and then removed them from my nails with only minimal surface damage. Then I filed my nails neatly, slapping a clear layer of Nailtiques on them. If I can survive the first couple of weeks, in which my sensitized nail beds, accustomed to being covered layers much thicker than my natural nails, register every change in temperature and even feel the wind blowing against them, I'll toughen up and be okay.

And if I can face starting the new school year in August without donning a new set, then I'm home free.

Oops

I glanced at the date today, frowned, and checked a file ... then felt extremely sheepish:  both my husband and I seem to have forgotten that yesterday was our 6th wedding anniversary.

I think we forgot last year, too.

I don't know what it is, but we're just not good about remembering. 

We're going to be disasters when we're genuinely old.  "Who are you?  My husband? Did we get married?"

Profit, progress, or a little of both?

A couple of weeks ago as I had the radio on in the car, I heard an ad for Shreve & Co., a local, traditional San Francisco-based jeweler founded in 1852, and it was like all the other jewelers' ads you hear on the radio: real people or actors touting the positive experience they had in shopping at the store -- except that, listening with only half an ear, I thought I heard a male voice discussing how he and "Rick" had found their rings at Shreve & Co.

I chuckled rather cynically to myself, thinking I had to have misheard because that jeweler is too traditional to market specifically to a gay clientele but also thinking, "Too bad -- they ought to!"

And then last week I heard a variation on the ad - this time with three couples talking: a guy referring to his wife, the same man who spoke of Rick, and then a woman, talking about how she and her partner -- a woman -- had found just the right rings for their wedding ceremony at Shreve,

This time, there was no mistaking it.

If I'd needed further confirmation of what I'd heard, a local talk radio program devoted an hour to discussing the Shreve ad the other night, with folks calling in to discuss their opinions of it.

My own opinion?  I think it's great. 

Yeah, okay, folks can see it as crass commercialism with Shreve simply trying to get  a percentage of gay and lesbian dollars being spent on newly legal marriage celebrations in California -- and I'd agree that that's certainly going on.

I also realize that there are straight folks out there who feel threatened by gay marriage (I'm just not even going to go there -- I don't get it and I won't dignify that perspective by writing about it).

I know, too, that there are gays and lesbians who aren't thrilled with the concept of duplicating what some view as heterosexist norms represented by marriage (that argument leaves me lukewarm, but hey, I respect folks' right to make it).

All of that said, the reason I think the Shreve ad is cool is because it's absolutely as unspectacular and boring as all its other ads have been.  They changed nothing, other than to incorporate the reality of gays and lesbians who might be into shopping for rings there, too.

Frankly, I trolled the internet for the rings that my husband and I used because the whole jewelry store experience was so icky and gross -- folks pushing the goods as hard as possible.

But if traditional jewelers didn't turn me off so much and I had a need for one, I'd consider shopping at Shreve's.

Another tool

in the arsenal against stress, that is. 

Yes, I'm going to try crocheting again as a way to keep my hands busy and productive in the evenings after work and let my brain do its unwinding thing in the background. I love reading, but sometimes I lose myself so fully in a book that it's a way of blocking stuff out.  Which is fine, too -- upon occasion -- but not always what I need and somehow not right for me during these summer days.

I only ever learned a single crochet stitch, as  recall, but I've made several afghans, and so I went online and found this pattern for what looks to be a basic baby blanket.  I took myself off to a local crafts store today to buy yarn and a couple of very inexpensive how-to/pattern booklets as well, so if this one turns out to be too tough, I can opt for something else.

Of course, I don't have a baby myself and I don't happen to know any babies in need of a blanket right now -- but that's hardly the point.  Anyway, a woman I know online has mentioned a network of women who make baby blankets for babies and mothers in shelters or hospitals who otherwise don't necessarily have gifts or special items made for them, and I thought that sounded cool. There's probably something like that around me, if I search a little.

(In fact there is -- a local chapter of Project Linus.  Check it out for your area and your state if you're so inclined.)

Might as well give it a whirl, anyway.

Scooter lust

With gas prices sky-rocketing and -- let's face it -- not ever likely to come down again, I'm back to wanting a scooter. Not only for its economy but also for its efficiency and reduced carbon footprint. 

(As far as I'm concerned, the U.S. deserves exactly what it's getting in terms of soaring gas prices.  We created and drove that demand at home and abroad, and we also willfully ignored the warning signs of the ecological ramifications of doing so over the decades. We spent the second half of the 20th century pushing capitalism and a market economy; we wanted to drive that market, and we succeeded -- to the extent that countries like China and India want what we've had all these years. Only, gee, it's different when they want it.  We're not so thrilled about that. "But gosh, they need to think about carbon emissions and global warming!"  Uh, yeah.  Good point -- but we sure as hell didn't want to think about it those things until they inconvenienced us.  George Bush going to the Saudis, asking for a reduction in fuel prices? Gosh, do you think maybe he's missed the point -- again? There are larger issues as stake, bub, and the chickens are coming home to roost.  Time to start prioritizing other sources of energy in systematic ways, time to reduce our energy consumption generally ... JEEZ!)

But I digress and rant.

So I'm trying to research scooters.  My "commute" is only 3-4 miles on surface streets, and most of my other driving can be done on surface streets as well.  My husband and I already share one vehicle, and we could reduce our use of it and of gas further and save some money, even adding in scooter insurance, if I acquired a scooter. Between it and light rail, I'd have it made.

I sure as hell would love to find a comparison chart out there so that I could systematically and quickly review various specs and costs.

Naturally I love the aesthetics of a Vespa but realize that there are high-performing scooters out there that are as reliable, less stylish -- and less expensive.

Note: An old college friend and my husband both tell me I'll die on a scooter.  I'm not so sure -- but they may have a point about the whole safety issue of me on a scooter because I am admittedly a klutz.  Something to think about.

Firestorms continue

Um, it doesn't look good, as you can tell by clicking on the link below and viewing a map of the fires as of this morning.

Download fire.pdf

And get this: there's the very real possibility of more lightning strikes in the next couple of days -- which is how the entire state of California was torched a little over a week ago. Swell.

Sparkly Jules lives in the area impacted by the fire designated as BTU Lightning on the map. I just got a call from her: she's headed out of town with kitties in tow, after stopping briefly at her house to pick up a few irreplaceables and some clothes following her first week on a new job.

Send out good thoughts for her -- and for all the folks affected by these fires, who number in the tens of thousands right now. 

I'm a native Californian who grew up with the fear and reality of wildfires each and every summer, but I've never seen anything remotely like this before.

Northern California fires

Lightning takes Northern California fires from bad to worse - Los Angeles Times.

"SACRAMENTO -- Northern California continued to suffer the fallout of what's turning into a historically bad fire season as a weekend lightning barrage set off more than 700 blazes that by Monday had burned nearly 44,000 acres."

Actually, that's yesterday's news.  As of this morning, the fire count was at 800 and climbing.  The graphic to the left doesn't even begin to convey the situation.

Sparkly Jules lives far closer to scenes of real distress than I do, but even where I live, the air is just foul. I went for a walk today as part of my summer anti-sloth routine, and not only was the sky a pale yellow from the fires, the air itself was smoky and unpleasant to breathe. I can only imagine what people with chronic lung conditions are having to cope with.

I cut my walk short (1.75 miles v. my minimum of 2.25 miles) -- not because I wasn't up for that minimal distance -- or more -- but because the air made walking outside not only disagreeable but probably downright unhealthy.

Less sleepy

because I did, indeed, take a nap on this warm, drowsy afternoon. 

I'm chalking it up to a mix of high temperature temperature and hormones and vowing that tomorrow will be a more productive day. Not in the sense of working -- it's okay with me not to work tomorrow -- but simply in the sense of tuning in, connecting, either with myself or others.

It's supposed to be cooler tomorrow as well, and that should help. As should rising earlier and getting in a morning walk.  I'm out of espresso so I'll do the 2.5 mile jaunt to Starbucks to buy some to take home. Perhaps have a beverage while I'm there, read a little, chill out in the cool of the morning sun.

Our days on this earth are limited; it was ridiculous to have as inert a day as I did today, on all levels.

I did make a plan with a friend to have an old-fashioned girls' sleep-over next Friday in San Francisco. She and I never have enough time to catch up, even on the rare occasions when we get together for dinner, so I proposed a slumber party of two and invited myself to her place for the night.  It'll be like school days again.

But that's about all I did.

Today's blah factor may be due to to a lack of protein and too many carbs, in addition to hormones and heat. I've just finished a protein shake which, in addition to being chilled, is also good for me. No doubt it's just the power of suggestion, but already I feel as if I have more energy. 

Let's see if starting out on the right foot tomorrow makes a difference.  Er, you think?

I am not happy Sam I Am

Apparently it's 81 degrees today where I live.  And I'm freezing fucking cold.

I hate hormones.  I hate impending TOM.  I hate feeling emotionally and physically out of whack.

And I hate my complaining.

On that cheery note, I'm going to head to campus shortly to hold office hours.  But on my way I'm stopping for a SF vanilla latte to warm myself up, and I'm going to get a bowl of soup from the cafe across the street.

Brrr.

End of the world

Okay, it's not -- for me -- but for, say, 12,000+ folks (and counting ) in China, thanks to yesterday's earthquake, and for tens of thousands of people (and counting) in Myanmar, thanks to the recent cyclone, it sure as hell is.

And if life isn't over for hundreds of people across the American midwest, thanks to tornadoes, and several hundred in Florida and California, thanks to wildfires, it nevertheless sucks for them right now, too.

So my complaints today are entirely ridiculous and whiny. I'm even annoying myself with them:

• TOM is in the offing, I'm bloated, and once again I spent about 40 minutes this morning trying to find something in my closet that wouldn't make me feel as if I weigh 280 pounds again.

And while I am genuinely bloated (thanks to impending TOM and no doubt the greasy pub food and Guinness I had with a friend last night), I must note that this is also genuine body dysmorphia at work once again.  I literally cannot look in the mirror when I feel this way because I truly see me at 280, not me at 163.8 (today's weight). How fucked up is that?

• I have a lot of grading to do between now and May 25 when I take off on my long-awaited trip to Alaska.  (I know --- poor me, I have to work before I head off on a vacation.  Boo hoo.  See? This is really annoying, self-indulgent bullshit that I'm complaining about.)

• I'm not even wanting to set eyes on my colleagues right now -- let alone deal with them -- because this has been one rough year in terms of relationships among the faculty, and I have no patience for anyone anymore. But I still have a few more meetings and conference calls to get through with them.

• My husband is tootling around upstairs with hammer and nails making a racket right above my study, and given how stressed and out of sorts I'm feeling right now, it makes me that much more jumpy and irritable.  (However, I've plugged into headphones and am streaming music over my computer, so maybe that will help.)

Really, I want to snap someone's head off, and anyone will do. 

Deep breath.

I think I'd better make sure I take my happy pill today, get in those supplements, have a little protein, move forward, and just get over myself -- that's what I think.