Draw More. Make Art. Be Content. Find Happy.

From my first post of 2013: A year ago, I wrote my 2013 resolutions: Draw more. Make art. Catch up. Sleep some. Clean up. Throw out. Use up. Be content. Find happy. 2013.

Wow. Nothing’s changed except the year. Well, and me. Sigh. It’s good that I have the same goals, even though my life is a fucked-up mess and so is my brain and everything in between. It sucks that I didn’t really achieve any of those in 2013, but I do still have them in mind. I sleep less now. I am less content, less happy. I make more art. Not sure what to say about that. Haven’t figured it all out yet. Maybe I never will.

This song kicked my ass today…

That’s the problem with quilting. I need to have something on to occupy my mind, and it used to always be music, but music just fucks with my emotions now, and there’s no way to tell Pandora to lay off the sad stuff. It doesn’t know what will set me off, stuff from high school or last year. I don’t even know until I hear it and have that bad reaction. I finally gave up and turned the TV on, which is distracting in another way…but at least I wasn’t crying and trying to move a needle up and down at 500 miles an hour around my fingers at the same time. It’s really better that way. I think.

Fuck, I don’t know.

I hiked this morning, early. The mountain (San Miguel Mountain) tried to kick my ass too, but I’m way more fucking stubborn that that. I’ll post about the hike later, once I get all the photos dealt with, but I did it. And it was good. And I’m feeling it now…some serious muscle pain for tomorrow morning. Oh well. It’s a good thing. My counselor wanted me to promise that I would admit to being an artist at the next hike, during all that stupid introductory conversation stuff that happens, instead of always answering the question of “what do you do?” with “I’m a science teacher.” She says that’s not who I really am. Yeah, but who I really am is a really long explanation and uses more words than I want to right now. Anyway, this was not a talking, chatting hike. This was a kick-your-ass hike with very little talking, so I failed at my task (not the hiking, but the admittance of being an artist). Oh well. She says I am isolating myself. Damn straight I am. I’m trying not to, but honestly, people kind of drive me bonkers at the moment. I just want to crawl into a hole most days, even now. Depression is a fucked-up monster. People suck. I can’t deal.

I managed to quilt some today, about 3 1/2 hours’ worth. It’s also not easy, but I got through the rest of the Mother and all of the Maiden, plus up the Crone to the breasts, and one of the birds. I wanted to be further, but it is what it is. I need to deal with school tomorrow, but I’m hoping for two or three more hours of quilting. I am trying to pretend school isn’t starting. It’s not working.

All I’m doing right now is outlining things. I have to decide what to outline and what to leave alone. I don’t think too hard about it. I just stitch and it tells me what wants outlining. I missed part of the milk ducts below…that’s why the pin is in there…to remind me to fix that.

I managed grocery shopping too, but hell…there is something so depressing about grocery shopping on Saturday night by yourself. It makes me want to just eat desserts. Not healthy. But at least I don’t have to deal with it tomorrow.

I ate Brussels sprouts instead of desserts. I don’t really like food any more. Girlchild was upset because her dad didn’t want to go somewhere interesting for his birthday dinner. I tried to explain to her that her dad likes his routine, not change. I think I will just take her out for mine. She and I can go somewhere interesting. Maybe I will be able to afford dinner out by March.

Meditation: I’ve made it a third of the way through a year of meditating. I finished the Discovery series and now they are moving into 40 days of Creativity. I probably don’t really need any help with that. I’m pretty damn good at it. It might be the only thing I’m good at. He talked about visualization and the connection to creativity. The first thing he says is, “Imagine the body is transparent.” Wow. He’s channeling my art. He says too much thinking and tension restricts your creativity. No shit. That’s why I can’t draw right now. Too much stress. I’m going to schedule some of this stuff out tomorrow, the stuff that HAS to get done in the next three weeks, because the next three weeks is a little ugly fugly. Then maybe I can fit some freewheeling creativity into my life.

It was 7 PM and I was feeling low. I was dealing with some lame-ass dinner and finishing a book (more about that later), and was just not feeling happy about life. Girlchild texted two words: “love you.” That’s it. Some day in the future, I will be able to explain to my kids how they held me (pulled me) up this year without even really trying, how their mom wanted to give up on everything about 400 million times, and they wouldn’t let me. I didn’t think all this shit had really affected the boychild, but he said something yesterday that made me realize that he HAD been affected and he would basically beat the crap out of people for me. Nice to know. They got my back.

We just recycled almost all of the college crap the boychild has received over the last three years…it was two huge piles of brochures and cards (and that doesn’t even count the hundreds of emails). It’s a whole new world. One of the things he asked for for Christmas was The Color Purple…I’ve been watching the movie tonight and it still makes me cry after how many years? Awesome story.

This is the rambling post for the week. My brain is kind of a mess.

I finished All Clear today…

It’s the second of two books, starting with Blackout, by Connie Willis. Honestly, I don’t think you can read the first and NOT read the second, because they are the same story…and I think she should have edited better. I am not a history fan, and there was way too much history and worry going on. There were about 500 pages in each book that were engrossing and good…and really good, honestly. The book club I’m in is only apparently reading the first book. It will be interesting to see if most people read both, because it’s about 1200 pages total, but you can’t read one without the other. That said, the story was good, even with my dislike of history, especially war history. There were too many words. This could have been one fucking amazing book with a good editor.

So there we are…life, reading, and a fucked-up mood. Nothing new.

Dear Self

Dear Self: thank you for ever so briefly getting your act together in December and copying everything for the next two units of school. I went in to school today and it was all there, ready, planned. Seriously. Like I had a brain at some point. It’s nice to know that someone is looking out for me sometimes. Am I done with the grading? Heck no. But I can teach for the next 6 weeks with very little planning. And honestly? I needed that. So it’s nice to know that my brain CAN kick in and behave at times.

So yeah, I went in to school this morning and learned a little bit about the silly tablet we’re supposed to be using and then signed up for computers for some of the upcoming assignments (because we won’t have access at all for some portion of the Spring, due to Common Core assessments), and I sort of dealt with my classroom and organizing and putting stuff where it belonged, and then I went home, because there’s a plumbing issue, and it should have been something small, but it’s not…it’s not difficult, but it’s expensive, because expensive is something I need at the moment. If we’re eating something besides ramen at the end of the month, it might be a miracle. Who knows what will die or need to be fixed next…I’m ducking at this point.

I did quilt for a little while…

Not as long as I wanted, but some. I always want the stressful things to stay away and leave my brain in peace, but they don’t. They keep me from getting the art stuff done, tying my brain up in knots. I finished the whole dirt area, the little black and white bird, and about half of the Mother. My goal is to get a ton of it done tomorrow afternoon and evening. We’ll see if that flies.

I’m about 3 hours in…I think. I had my stitching meeting this evening with friends and my kids…I worked on the binding for the Love (not Love) quilt. It’s STILL not done. I’m slow.

Julie brought a cool coloring book of flowers and leaves and birds…

There were lots of owls. I’m developing a fascination with owls lately…

It makes me want to draw…I really miss drawing. I used to draw more. Now I don’t find the time as easily. It’s a place thing, I think. When I was waiting, I would draw. Now I am waiting less. Plus I am incredibly overstressed about deadlines at the moment, and so I find myself either rushing around dealing with those or completely immobilized by too much. So I do very little or I read a lot or I clean a lot. That might be beneficial to the house, but it’s not beneficial to my brain. My brain needs to do a better job of clearing all that stress out.

Julie also gave us bird ornaments for our Christmas trees…but my ornaments are all put away in the garage until next December, so I will hang it on something else for a while and see if it notices that Christmas is over.

I think it will be quite happy being a Spring bird for a while.

Anyway. I’m going to bed early. I’m tired. I have an early hike in the morning. I want to read for a bit, even though it is still World War II, because the time travel has returned and the book is back to being interesting. And I want to have enough mental energy tomorrow to finish quilting, or at least get a lot of it done. I can worry about school and money and getting all the other crap done some other day. Saturdays should be for good stuff…not work and stress and sad. Yes sad. It’s there. It’s always there…lurking about and stalking me. Asshole.

Dear Self: Get rid of that sad guy. He’s a jerk.

Holy Panic Attack, Batman…

I think today needs to be wadded up in a tiny ball and thrown in the garbage disposal. I had a list of things to do, and even finished some of them, but then the day conspired to pick me up and throw me into a blender. As Robin would say, Holy Teeth Grinding…in case you are Batman-deficient, here’s a great compilation of some of Robin’s exclamations of holiness…

My favorites? Holy Sudden Incapacitation and Holy Knit 1 Purl 2. I wonder if Robin knits?

I think stress started in last night, and I’m not sure why, except that there are a lot of deadlines pressing on me at the moment and not enough time. So I couldn’t fall asleep until after 2 AM sometime last night, and then I was awake again at 4. I think I slept a little between then and 7, but not a lot. The kids went back to school today, so maybe that was it…who knows. I vowed to stay in my pajamas (something I really haven’t been able to do all Winter Break) at least until the health coach called. I started stitching down the Celebrating Silver quilt…

I really thought I was going to be able to get this done today. Ha! The universe looks down on me, puny and small, and steps on me. Seriously. I got about an hour in. I was hoping the health coach could help with the sleep stuff, but she says I’m already doing everything, although she pointed me towards aromatherapy, which I did once upon a time. I just went and checked the medicine cabinet (which is not actually a cabinet any more, just a hole in the wall between studs because the old cabinet’s glass was slipping out, so I just took the whole mess out before it killed someone, and I’ve never been able to find a replacement that wouldn’t require changing the hole size in one direction or eleven), but there’s nothing. It’s OK. I got a glass of wine instead…because it’s 12:20 AM and I am WIRED. Like I’m going to vibrate out of the room. Not good. Grape aromatherapy.

So at 10:30 or so, everything was still according to plan. I showered (I got to stay in my pjs for a little while…the simple pleasures) and got my list together, and went to the auto-part store (windshield wipers), the hardware store (lightbulbs and replacement keys and extension cords), and the grocery store (boychild has expressed a shampoo preference that is DIFFERENT than his sister’s for the first time in 18.013 years). I came back, changed the wiper blades in 14 seconds flat (it has taken me 46 years of practice to be able to do that), filled up the car with all the oil I had (it’s going in on Wednesday), installed the lightbulb, threw out the stomped-on extension cord, put the keys together for the girlchild (who has been complaining about not having her OWN car keys), and declared the kids’ bathroom a national, no, INTERNATIONAL disaster area (I feel sorry for anyone who has to live with them in the future…and I think I know what they will be doing this weekend, if I have to scream and throw cat turds at them until they do it).

All good. It still wasn’t even lunch time. I was doing well.

Yeah. Then I got an email about the journal for the Earth Stories project. Shit. Dammit. Fuck. I bought the journal two weeks ago. I started trying to find photos for it, but I had stopped filing photos properly last March (normal for me…I usually only clean them out about twice a year, when I have to), and honestly had put off dealing with it because going through photos was just too damn painful. Fuck. Cannot put this off any more. She wants it now. What she wants doesn’t exist. She’s perfectly within her rights to want it now…I said I would do it by early January. It is early January. I did not state which year, but I suspect that doesn’t matter. Unless I can manufacture a deadly illness or necessary surgery right now (not a joking matter), I’m stuck. So I started going through photos…I thought I was going to be able to do this whole Google Docs thing (trying to get used to it for school purposes) and maybe work on it at the soccer game on the iPad, but I’ll write more about all that when I write a good long horrible post about how NOT to make a journal after the fact.

Boychild arrived home, criticized my lunch fare, and I went off to get the girlchild from school and fill the gas tank. While I’m pulling up to the gas station, my cell phone rings from Upland, California. I don’t know anyone in Upland, California (OK, maybe I do, but I don’t KNOW that I know they’re in Upland). I’m going to ignore it (I am driving), but girlchild asks to answer it, and promptly uses goofy voice and tells them, Yes, She IS Kathy Nida. Oops. Then quickly hands the phone to me when she realizes that pretending to be me is a big mistake, because the universe is after me today and I just don’t know it yet.

Thus begins a strange conversation. It’s Road to California, an annual quilt show. They want to know if I’ve shipped my quilt. Um. No? I didn’t get in. Yes you did. I didn’t get an email. It’s in your spam folder. It wasn’t, by the way…I do check all my spam and it never came…now I could have apparently checked online to see if I got in, but it meant logging in to my Road account, not just looking at an online list, and that was early December and apparently it never crossed my mind…I just assumed because they said they would only send emails to accepted artists that I hadn’t been accepted. Luckily, they did call me and were still willing to have me ship the quilt, because it was due back on December 27 (oops). So I’m in Road. Which I guess means I’m going to Road. And they took the naked one! I was shocked. So one of my uteri will be in Ontario (not Upland), California…January 23-26. I’m not going to show you a picture of it, because if you’re at Road, it will be the ONLY quilt with a uterus that is at Road. Seriously. Wanna bet?

So I walked in the door with the girlchild and realized I had no boxes, drove to UPS while girlchild went to her soccer game, then back home, packed up the quilt, had to ship through Fed Ex, drove to Fed Ex and dropped it off, then drove back home because I had forgotten my tea (crucial for surviving January soccer games), then to the soccer game (I was only 11 minutes late). Watched the girlchild play, stitched some feet, no fucking way is my plan of finishing three blocks in two games going to work at all, because I am too slow. Whatever.

Yes, we are playing midgets here (not really…and we’re not supposed to call them that…this young dear thing actually pulled my daughter down later in the game…at least I think it was her…it might have been one of the other midgets).

It was late afternoon…hence the pretty light…but most of my pictures were fuzzy crap due to the declining light. I don’t know why I try.

I especially like how everything is tinged with orange, their team color…probably there was a very pretty sunset going on behind me, but I was too busy freaking out and stitching bird feet. Stitching does actually calm me down. Imagine how messed up I’d be right now if I hadn’t done that. At one point tonight, I sat down with the last of the heart disease comics to grade, opened them up, brain vomited panic and anxiety all over the page, and I put them away again.

Ironic that, because if I don’t get through all the grading soon, there will be a whole ‘nother level of anxiety going on.

I need time, dammit Spock…TIME. Spock seems better for that request than Robin…Robin doesn’t seem capable of helping at all, except to make me laugh. Holy Inappropriate Comment, Batman. Holy Pointy Ears, Batman. I hate being anxious like this. On the other hand, I often am uber-efficient when I’m this stressed. Holy Adrenaline Rush, Batman.

Luckily dinner was in the crockpot (I did that in the morning too) when we got home, and then I spent two or three hours manhandling photos and Google Docs and finally giving up and importing into Word, which was bitchy in a different way. Am I done? Fuck no. Don’t talk to me.

Oh! And I cut up a Christmas tree in the middle of all that, with the boychild’s help. In the dark. With a saw. And tried to fix the oven using the weird MacGyver device the oven guy left me (I failed at this attempt). And exercised, and meditated (in the 20-30 seconds when we are allowed to let our minds wander wherever they like, my brain performed dangerous karate fight moves and beat the crap out of someone. It’s OK…he deserved it…and it made me giggle.). And then I made the mistake of looking at college financial aid stuff, which just makes my head spin, and they want everything done by February 15, and that includes tax forms and statements and all this crap that has to be up-, down-, and side-loaded in 14 different locations. I guess the only people that get financial aid are those who have stamina. I have stamina, dammit. I do.

No more quilt action happened today. I did copy the missing pieces from the drawing I was taping yesterday (Fed Ex is where I copy, so I had the presence of mind to bring the sketchbook with me when I shipped the quilt).

I do wonder if I missed some crucial email from Road? I searched all my folders, including spam and deleted items…I have the confirmation that I entered and the email they sent today, but nothing else. I could have sworn I saw a rejection email, but maybe not. I just don’t know. I sometimes feel like I’m going crazy with all this stuff…I can barely keep track of what I need to get done on a minute-by-minute basis, and then this stuff happens…makes me wonder if I’m all there. Where? There. Over THERE.

Anyway. I’m hoping tomorrow is better. I’ve made a to-do list already. It makes me feel better, more organized and calm, to have the list. I have timing issues tomorrow, but if I’m wide awake in the morning, then I will take advantage and do the gym early…I work better on the art stuff at night, and that will free up time for that. Presumably the exercise will get rid of some of this crazy anxiety too. Hell, some of this is probably hormonal (I just realized this…you’d think I would learn that any crazy seesawing from one mood to another is of course that stupid-ass estrogen fucking with my system again). Holy Uterine Involvement, Batman! Anyway, just be glad you don’t live with me at the moment, although it would be nice to have some calm influence who rubbed my feet and back and made me a bubble bath and a cocktail (I don’t actually drink those or sit in those, in either order) and told me everything would be all right…not that I’d believe them…I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone who says that to me again. Sad but true. But someday. Maybe. Maybe I will be allowed to have that. Fucking universe. Go fuck with someone else. You’ve messed with me enough.

The universe says, Yeah, but you got into a show that you didn’t even know you got into. Isn’t that a good thing? Well, universe, wouldn’t it have been OK to tell me on the normal date and have me be able to plan ahead to ship and all that? Yes, yes it would. And then I wouldn’t be sitting here wondering how crazy I really am.

All right…it’s 1 AM and I’m still wired. Holy Melatonin, Batman (doesn’t work on me), what next? Read a boring book…breathe deep…maybe the quilt fairy will come in the night and finish my stitching, or even better! Maybe the financial aid/tax fairy will come and do all THAT for me. Now that would be a useful fairy. Don’t even ask where the depression was today…front and center…when I write about creating the journal.

Sideswiped…

I keep getting sideswiped…like 2-ton vehicles slamming past and pulling me with them, too fast, throwing me to the ground. I try to figure out the why, why now? Why today? Is it hormonal? Is there some reason for the mood change or the lack of control of the mood? Is there something that has made meditation become a weepy place again? He talks about not knowing your emotions, so looking at the frustration, the worry, the doubt, and trying to find the underlying emotion to that surface feeling. Dude. It’s sad underlying sad. It’s sad all the way down. It’s just plain sad. I don’t need help identifying the emotion. But I saw something today that hit the sad into overdrive…and it’s not something I have control over…it just is and I, as he tells me, sink my mind down into that emotion and just sit in it…just sit there, like it’s a big overstuffed beanbag chair, kind of sticking to the back of your legs and not particularly comfortable, making noise every time you move…I just sit. And it’s an ugly color too, and those stupid tiny white styrofoam balls? They’re spilling out on the carpet too, but you can’t find the hole. Apparently the emotion should move on at some point. I’m curious when that will happen. What am I sad about? When will it move on? What is the difference between grief and sadness? Tomorrow I’m supposed to have a question for meditation. One? That’s it? Will he magically answer it? There isn’t enough magic in my life.

Yeah. So I didn’t do well with the sleep thing last night, so it makes sense that I’m writing this past one in the morning. I’m not at all tired, wide awake really, wired. I suspect it’s the artmaking doing that. I didn’t get to it until late, but then I couldn’t stop…I did the 100 pieces of skelly…

dead bodies hidden in the ground. Then moved on to a few other things I buried underground in this piece…

This quilt has symbolism all over the freakin’ place. It’s like my depression got a home in fabric. It will be oh so fun to explain. The boychild quite liked this part…

He’s been writing college essays for the last two days and hopefully his mother’s art was not the subject of a huge number of them…he won’t let me read any of them. I spent about 2 hours with him going through and paying for all the tests to be sent to the various colleges, and then going through and sending all of the application fees. He has 5 more to finish, 4 before Wednesday and 1 later next week. Then we’re done…until the acceptances go out, no stress, and I still have to do the FAFSA and we need to try to hunt down some scholarships. It’s all very terrifying, especially when I look at how much money I charged to credit cards today for all the fees. Yikes. Anyway. We’re mostly done until next year, when we have to do it again with the girlchild.

I went to school in the morning to grade the last of the science journals…

I had to do it. I had put it off already for two days…but it was as depressing as I thought it would be. There are parts of my job that I enjoy, but the hard work parts of it just make the rest of my life seem so much worse…so I sat there for a minute, staring out at the empty room (they’re waxing floors on Thursday, so everything is up or out), and cried. Then I turned up the music real loud and graded and wondered what magic miracle was expected of me to get some of these kids to give a shit about their classwork, based on what I was seeing. I probably shouldn’t have done that class last…they are a bit challenging. But getting pressure from higher-ups that makes you feel like any F is a failure on YOUR part, and then going through simple assignments like this? Makes you want to quit teaching and go work for the Republican party. Yes. It’s that bad. It would be easier. I think.

Anyway…politics aside, I’m pushing through the grading best I can, because grades are due the week we go back to school. It depresses me to grade at the moment, so I try to do it in small amounts, spread out over many days.

I’ve been falling down on some of my jobs for an art group I’m in, so I tried to get my act back in gear today. I just need a routine. If it feels hard, I just put it off at the moment. I can’t handle anything hard. I say that, but I’m ironing a million tiny pieces down. Hard is relative.

I’m geocaching later this week, and I didn’t know what to bring to put into them, but remembered I had been given an Shrinky Dink oven and supplies many years back, so I pulled them out and started drawing…

Then colored them in and put them in the oven…

Which is powered by a 60-watt lightbulb…

They came out teensy weensy…

But I think that’s OK. The flame head folded over on itself a little and didn’t fully flatten. I’ll make some more tomorrow.

The boychild is interested in geocaching, so we might do that on his birthday. He’s turning 18 on Thursday, which is more than a little terrifying. Not as terrifying as paying for college, but close. His Christmas present included hiking boots (his request), so I’ve been trying to get them broken in.

We spent a few hours this evening picking up the kids’ dad from the airport; he’s been in Britain for 2 weeks visiting family, especially his mom. Part of my Christmas present came back with him. One thing that always amused me about British TV and books from when I was younger was how important tea was to their culture, but I didn’t really understand it until I lived there. It’s where I got addicted (and I still drink British tea with milk, thus confusing the majority of Americans, including all my students)…this mug was a gift from my ex-SIL and family, and entirely appropriate to my life at the moment…

Tea does solve many problems, simply by making you sit down and drink it properly. Sometimes a cup of tea perfectly brewed and at exactly the right temperature can bring an immense amount of calm to my troubled brain.

So I washed and folded all the red fabrics I bought yesterday (yes, some were NOT red)…

The one on the left was going to be the binding, but it lost out to one of the other ones, which I was lucky to have bought a yard of anyway, because that’s all that was left on the bolt and I had this niggling feeling that it was a better choice than the one above. I’ll try to get the binding on sometime soon so you can see it…but right now, I’m still on a roll with ironing…

I was going to stop after the bird, but the woman was calling to me…above, she is still in pieces…

Apparently she called quite loudly, because I got all of her ironed except for the head.

Which maybe is why I’m still up (but finally getting tired) at holy crap in the morning. Plus the girlchild is coming back from Pasadena, where she’s been working on one of the floats for the Rose Parade. I wouldn’t be a good mom if I didn’t wait up. Actually, if I’d thought I could have gone to sleep earlier, I would have.

Earlier today, Babygirl was helping me use the mouse.

Right before I took this picture, she actually was sleeping with her head on my mouse hand. Ugh.

Then Midnight was standing watch for a while too…

Actually, she spent most of her time sleeping.

Jake went home today, so the cats seem to feel more free to move around. Jake chases them, stalks them. Calli could care less.

Anyway. I’m hoping to iron more tomorrow…it’s taking me about an hour per 100 pieces, so there are about 8 1/2 hours to go. That’s a lot. Hmn. That might be unrealistic, when I look at what else is going on tomorrow. The ironing did distract me for a long time from the sadness that is lurking around and gut-punching me on a regular basis. Meditation made me think about something I had said or done that was positive, and I remembered making an effort to tell these two girls who are in one of my roughest classes that they were rocking science right now (they really are…and the other positive thing I had come up with just made me cry more, so I picked the girls)…they’re both kind of different and went into teen-girl glow mode when I said it. I was just thinking about trying to encourage girls to be more into science through high school when I said it, plus I wanted them to know I appreciated how hard they worked. I don’t get any happy glow out of it, though. I’m supposed to…for making them feel good. But that’s part of my job. Sigh. I think my emotional machine is out of order. It doesn’t react right. And I’m getting this vision of the Wicked Witch on her bike (broom? Wizard of Oz?) cackling that I will PAY, my pretty, I will pay. That I have been wicked somehow and I will pay.

I should probably iron a lot more tomorrow instead of spending close personal time with that part of my brain. It needs a vacation or something. And the sad? It can go fuck itself. I’m tired of it. If it’s going to be sad, be sad about something that’s real, that’s true, not something that was apparently bullshit and a lie. Oh if only it were so easy to direct the mind to be sad about the right things and to drop the wrong things. The creative mind…it kinda does what it wants. We can try to direct it all we like…it will decide how to be.

I’d like to decide to be asleep now.

To Settle My Soul

Christmas Day: The house smells of red velvet cake, then cauliflower soup, and now short ribs. The deviled eggs are made, spiced with fresh pepper and mustard (it’s one of the two things I was allowed to cook). I’m watching The Paradise, a British program set in the 1870s (supposedly an “intoxicating love story”…I’m not sure about either the intoxication or the love, but it’s so far from my reality with the young girls falling in insta-love that it doesn’t hurt to watch it), while trimming fabric for the Celebrating Silver quilt. I’ve cleaned up all the gifting trash and the girlchild is cooking dinner. She’s a freakin’ expert at this point, needing zero help most days, creative in her exploration of food while simultaneously destroying the kitchen. Seriously…it’s now 24 hours later and I still haven’t cleaned it all up.

The day is quiet…

We have parents and dogs and cats, but their dad is missing (yes, he’s usually here), and the girlchild misses him. The boychild may as well, but will not admit to it (yes, he’s covering his face).

Calli is quite happy with her new toy…

And with all attention thrown her way.

I stitch through most of the present-opening. Stitching occupies the part of my brain that likes to wander off into WishLand or Depressoid World. So it’s better to keep it working on something.

Girlchild put on an amazingly presented meal, which of course, I do not have a photo of…or maybe I do on the phone. I don’t know. She even gifted me placemats and napkins for the dinner table, plus borrowed matching plates and bowls from her dad’s house (she preferred his color scheme to mine apparently)…

Impressive. I don’t know where all her cooking/presentation brain power comes from…it must be related to the part of my brain that makes art…the creative bent. But I couldn’t care less about food presentation…it’s just fuel to me…although she makes very good fuel, that’s for sure. I feel exceedingly lucky to have her and her cooking expertise in my life. I am a better cook because of her, and I eat better too (tonight’s open-faced chicken sandwiches with pea pesto were to die for…seriously. I wouldn’t even have made them, because it sounded too weird, but they were damn good).

After dinner, we play a rousing game of SmartAss (you know, like you do). It goes on for a long while; we don’t set an ending time (besides, I won in about 10 minutes on the first round…apparently I was a super SmartAss on Christmas Day…probably to make up for being a Space Cadet the rest of the time). I stitched through most of the game as well. By the end of all the festivities, I’ve managed an hour and 37 minutes of cutting out pieces for the new quilt PLUS I’ve sewed almost everything on the wool birds…

Actually, last night I thought I was done, but I realized this morning that I still have two cotton pieces to sew on…

Whatever. It means I start embellishing at tomorrow’s soccer game. I don’t know if it’s healthy to always be distracting my brain from the bad sad stuff, but I’m getting pretty good at it. It won’t go away all day, though. It always surfaces somewhere: at the gym, in the car, during meditation, when I wake up, in my dreams. There’s no escaping it. It’s just there. I don’t know when it will go away…maybe never.

We usually do a family photo with the kids in front of the tree with whatever animals we have that year. This year, we decided to toss me in there as well, because we have three cats who don’t like each other enough to be held by the same person. Kitten is my cat; she barely tolerates Midnight, the girlchild’s cat, and Babygirl, though she likes me as well, is definitely the boychild’s ward…as much as she is beholden to anyone (she really does channel her previous dead owner’s personality). Calli belongs to the girlchild, and Jake is their dad’s dog, but he was better at sitting still and in place than Calli, so we gave him an honorary spot…

There it is…the official 2013 family portrait. I do have copies of the real-live official family portraits my mom had done a few weeks ago…maybe I’ll post them later. It’s sad that I’m the shortest…by far. Oh well. I never claimed to be tall.

This is my Christmas fabric haul…

Mom says I needed more dirt because I seem to be making quilts with lots of dirt in them. OK. And flesh. I’m always using flesh…although I think some of that flesh fabric might be better as hair. And that black spotty fabric…now I feel a challenge to use it as flesh. Or dirt. Or both. Or not. I did enlarge a bunch of smaller drawings at the copy place on Christmas Eve…I had to go pick up my Sightlines quilt, which has now returned home after almost 4 years of traveling, so I decided to use the copy machines as well, since I was already there and it was on my To-Do list for break. I’ll hopefully be doing some of those in January. I copied WAY TOO MANY drawings, but they’re small. I’m worried about not having anything to do. Crazy, that, really, considering the number of big drawings I have sitting around too…and my To-Do list is staggering for the rest of life too, at the moment. But if it’s 10 PM on a school night and I need some art-related activity to chase away the depression, then I should be prepared. I’m a Girl Scout through and through.

I cut more pieces out today…almost three hours’ worth…

I’m over 14 hours in now…you can see the pile of trash is big. I was hoping to get everything done today, but the bin on the left still has a couple of hours’ worth of pieces to do. So I quit. I’ll hopefully finish tomorrow. Then I can start ironing on Saturday. I got all freaked out about getting done…with everything. I’m going in to school tomorrow to grade stuff too. I can’t let stuff slip, however much my brain is trying to force my hand, make me wallow in shit and not get work done. It needs to grow up and deal. The eye-twitch is gone. That’s good. I’ve been sleeping more…although not well. That’s good. Exercise has obviously been a priority, and that is helping. Spending time with the kids is also good…we’ve watched movies and played games and hiked and shopped (seriously, the boychild stayed shopping with me rather than go home with the girlchild…stranger things have happened!). I appreciate this time with them, because they will be gone soon…off to college and then to their own lives…and I hope they do it better than I did. I haven’t been the best role model for relationships, although I have definitely taught them how to get back up off the ground and survive, despite all the shit. I guess that’s something. I hope they have less shit in their lives…there are people I know who never go through anything really bad…may my kids be in that group.

The title to today’s post come from the PBS show I was watching…”I long for peace…to settle my soul.” Mr. Moray in The Paradise. I actually think Moray is a total ass in this show, but whatever…I’m with him on the sentiment.

Winter Break So Far…

Winter Break so far: graded two weeks of warmups, sat through three soccer games in less than 24 hours (hence the grading), sewed on 32 tiny blue circles (OK, I don’t actually think it was 32, but I don’t feel like counting, so here…you count)…

I stitched other blue things too…seriously, each game is two 40-minute halves with 10 minutes in between, and you have to be there an hour before, so that tells you how much time I have to grade and sew…AND take photos when she’s actually playing and it’s not dark.

I also checked out over 2000 pages worth of books from the library, because apparently every book I had on hold for the last 6 months arrived this week. Seriously. I have two ebooks that showed up and four actual paper books, and all of them are huge. I’m OK with that, but it’s kind of strange to feel PRESSURE to read. Then I go to the gym and realize I am the only person who is reading at the gym except for that old guy over there on the treadmill…oh wait, that’s my dad. Hmn. The world is full of nonreaders.

I also went to Unsilent Night last night with the kids…it was smaller again this year. I think next year we will get the girlchild to bring all of Key Club or something to fill out the numbers. I still liked it and once I get the videos posted, I’ll put them on here, although watching them is kinda lame compared to the experience. Downtown wasn’t as busy as it has been in the past either…not sure why, since it was a Saturday night…maybe everyone was at work or family parties. We did talk about last year when we did this. Everything I do is full of memory. I managed it though. Lost myself in the sound and lights of the experience and hanging out with my kids. Threatened them with doing this every year when they come back from college. Holy shit. They’re going to college.

In the middle of all that, a giant rock hit my windshield and left a divot, and then the check engine light on my car came back on, which is probably the catalytic converter finally failing, with the worst possible timing in all the world…January will be the Visa bill from hell, I think. What is the next thing that will go wrong with the car? Shouldn’t there be three? College apps plus Christmas plus fixing car. Deep breaths.

I have not been home long enough to make art. Girlchild just said to me that I get stressed and she doesn’t even know why, to calm down and it would all get done. Maybe true. Then again, she’s not doing any of it. She just adds more to what I have to do. At least she can drive now, so I’m not constantly having to take her and drop her off…let’s not think about her ability to get lost.

I didn’t post last night out of pure exhaustion. I’m not sure why I made it to Saturday night and didn’t collapse Friday night, but whatever. I fell asleep in meditation, then got up and went to bed, and then couldn’t freakin’ fall asleep. Lame. Brain goes a mile a minute, can’t shut it down. Need to do the exercise and the art to get it to shut down properly.

The plus is that the soccer situation is better now…

Coach played her in the first game yesterday for an OK amount of time…

Then I saw her club coach and talked to him about the lack of playing time. Not sure if he then talked to the high-school coach, but she played a good chunk of the second game yesterday…

And made a goal. There we go. The picture above is right before she made the goal…kicked it past the goalie on the ground (who was trying to trap it with her legs), jumped over her, and calmly placed the ball in the goal. So I think she’s feeling better about the soccer thing now and hopefully that will mean less drama here. At least for a day or so…the finals are tomorrow and I think we’re in them. More grading time.

I finished this book, What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day, by Pearl Cleage…

It was OK. A little light…nothing’s that easy in real life. Can’t remember why I read it…recommended somewhere. There are apparently more in the series, but I don’t know if I care that much. Oprah does…if that matters. I liked the characters and the writing…it was just too perfect. If I were less depressed, maybe I would like it more.

My right eyelid is still trying to twitch on and off, but it’s calming down. I feel good about all the grading I got done in the last two days…although there is still a shitload to do. I have to go to school today because I left my room a mess and they are doing the floors, so I have to clean up so they can do that. I also still have Christmas stuff to deal with. I think I will not be getting much art done in the next couple of days, and even after that, the days are pretty full…but maybe after that. So hopefully there will be pictures of that coming soon. People keep trying to add to my Have-To list…like I don’t already have one three miles long.

Right now, I have two cats in the same room that are hissing at each other, my ex’s German Shepherd who believes either that My Toast is His Toast or that he should be allowed to eat the hissing cat who has already bopped him twice, and a Golden Retriever who keeps hopefully coming in with a squished soccer ball, asking me to play.

So I’m going to the gym. With my book. Trying to take control of my own life, even if my brain doesn’t like it.

I Could Totally Do That

Brain is all over the map. My students’ gave me gifts today, those of the hugging variety. Cheap but appreciated. It is the thought that counts. I was reading someone else’s post about their depression and how it affects their ability to do things they know they should be doing, and then I was thinking about the gifts other teachers at school had given me and how I couldn’t even wrap my head around that task (I’ve never been able to deal with more this time of year), and I’m having issues even dealing with gifts for my own children, and for some reason, the whole mess made me really sad…which would have been fine, but it was lunch at school and crying at school is never a good thing. I felt completely inadequate and lame and nonfunctional and sad and useless, and even writing about it, taking simple notes to remind me of how I felt for when I wrote this post later…those little notes made it a bigger issue. Brought to tears by kindness? Or the reminder that I am broken? Or do I just accept my inability and move on?

Depression is such a fucked-up mess. Thinking about it makes you more depressed, because there is no magic pill or word that makes it all go away. When you’re totally sick of being depressed, you are still depressed. In fact, it may make it worse. It’s worse when you know you’re doing everything you’re supposed to be doing and it still doesn’t feel better. It’s still a slog through cold mud. Someone today told me I looked great (ironic, that), and I said thank you. Because that’s what you say. And that is one positive from all this shit. I’m healthy. I’m the only non-sick person on my team at school at the moment. I haven’t been sick in the last 6 months, at least with the normal viruses etc. I’m just sick in the head. I just don’t sleep. I just don’t eat well. I just don’t give a shit. Except I do. I get up. I shower. I work. I try. I make art. I read. I work out. I try to do all the things that normal people do…the non-depressed people. The kind of person I used to be. I guess I did that for enough years that I can fake it now. Look! This is what a normal person does during Christmas! She shops! She wraps! She cooks!

Fuck that. I have three weeks off of school. I can make sure I exercise regularly. I can try to drag the monsters out on some hikes or go on some on my own. I can clean the damn house, because it’s driving me nuts. I can try to be OK…whatever that means.

I can’t be happy. I can’t be non-depressed. Those aren’t really antonyms. Happy is not the opposite of depressed. I am sad. I can’t be happy and sad, can I? Maybe…I read that you can be happy your child is going to college, but sad as well. I get that. I understand that. I don’t think there’s something that will make me happy at the moment at the same depth as my sadness, though, so sad it is. Depressed, though…depressed is a whole ‘nother island, further out to sea. There’s no getting off that island until the non-depressed boat shows up to pick you up, and he’s notoriously bad about finding the island. So here I sit.

Girlchild had a soccer game today. She did not play. I don’t like her coach. He’s kind of an idiot. Hopefully he doesn’t read my blog (it seems unlikely, unless he is a closet quilt artist). She’s having some mood-related issues because of his lameness. I’m doing a lot of huggy mommy stuff to try to make up for his shit. I graded during the game and stitched as well…

That’s a whole lot of little blue dots.

Plus she misses her dad. So I didn’t exercise tonight (ran out of time…cuddled teenaged kid instead of exercising…not as many calories burned, but good karma is better anyway I think) and I ate like shit today (not her fault). I did meditate…there was discussion of cause and effect. How does it feel to give someone something? Ironic that, considering the season and my issues above with gifts…I’m having this issue with gifts I gave that were handmade, some of which meant (mean?) quite a lot to me, and now I wish I hadn’t given them away…because I don’t believe they will be treated with respect. It’s interesting the kinds of gifts we give to loved ones…some give mostly handmade, some give all material things, devices, objects that don’t have personal meaning. I wonder if that is a gender thing or if there is some type of person that would be better for the handmade type…one who was more thoughtful. Don’t get me wrong…gadgets can be very useful…but there is a level of intimacy with a gift made specially for someone, about thinking about the person as you made the gift, that I think makes it worth more. And if that is never reciprocated, that level of feeling inserted in the gift creation, maybe that is always a mismatch? I don’t know.

I don’t have much time for things like that…for making those types of gifts any more. I used to.

Speaking of tech, here are the two tablets I’m using now…

The iPad Mini (left) has been around for almost a year and gets lots of use, mostly for reading, but all types of reading. The one on the right is the new Nexus tablet from our school district (it’s not mine to keep), which I’m supposed to use for school-related stuff. Apparently I will be able to track everything my students are doing in class on this thing and send feedback right away. I’m imagining a classroom where everyone is staring down at a device, silently tapping away, including the teacher. That has got to be so far away from reality. Here’s reality…kids doing Snapchat and Instagram in class with their phones and talking instead of getting work done, while another kid shows his table a YouTube music video that is incredibly inappropriate. Some mom complains and the teacher gets reprimanded. One thing we definitely need (besides a case for the damn Nexus so we don’t drop it and break it and have to pay for it, part of what we had to sign off on to get the damn thing) is a better agreement for parents to sign, one that actually protects teachers from stupid kid behaviors. It’s a whole different world to navigate. So I am supposed to spend part of break getting used to the beast on the right. It is not like the beast on the left. Wish me luck.

I told you I was wrapping…just very slowly and inefficiently, that’s for sure. My brain is not fully engaged (hello, can you say depression?).

Still haven’t opened the curtains from summer sun. Didn’t even notice until I saw this picture.

And meditation took place with cat on lap.

Also not particularly efficient.

We had a discussion of saggy boobs today, especially what happens to the body post-pregnancy…singing the boobs-hanging-low song (like you do), remembering a conversation with a friend about the pregnancy stretchmarks (wherever they inhabit your body) being a mark of what you had survived, a mark of the relationship that created the child that caused the marks themselves. Stretchmarks existed as a sign of the good in the relationship, medals for wounds inflicted in war. It brings to mind how we appreciate the aging and used body…the work those parts did. I found all those thoughts depressing as well. I need to go for a walk or something (probably not right now…it’s a bit late).

White Lies by Max Frost…

Heard this song this morning on the way to work. Not sure why it stuck, but it did. Up early. More soccer. More grading. More tiny blue circles (I’m fairly sure I left some on the bleachers at the high school). Hopefully she will play tomorrow. Hopefully I will get a bit up and out of this funk. Funk makes it sound like a good thing, like the music. It makes it sound like all I have to do is get out of the chair and come in and dance. I wish it were that easy, because I could totally do that.

Don’t Stop Believin’

It’s possible I should be meditating more than once a day at the moment…two or three times in a 24-hour period might be necessary. It’s really just end-of-the-year stress coupled with student mayhem and big-project chaos and stupid petty administrative crap that we shouldn’t have to deal with at all.

My desk at school at the moment…

At one point this morning, I had 5 iPods, a Nexus tablet, and a flash drive connected to 2 computers and a flash drive on a third computer, with three types of connectors in play. It’s possible my brain almost exploded with technological dealings. Sometimes I wish I could just walk out of the classroom and into a local park, sit down on a bench, and start to draw. But you don’t. You find somewhere in yourself that has some wicked large burst of teacher power and you bully through. I only had three unsolvable tech problems today, and I think one was because I don’t read Arabic…yet. I have 9 kids who had the balls to NOT turn in the assignment (out of 165, suck my…excuse me), and 4 of them were absent. The other 5…I promised them a parent phone call on Christmas Eve if they didn’t produce something by tomorrow. I am nothing if not evil.

That said, my desk is STILL a mess and I have a ton of crap to deal with tomorrow…but I WILL deal, dammit, and whatever doesn’t get done tomorrow will get done eventually. I put myself in a much better place schoolwise this year than last year going into Winter Break. I managed the bullshit, best I could, and the petty crap that sets me off will be out of my hair by 3:30 tomorrow afternoon.

It started pouring rain while I was on duty this afternoon, so I entertained myself by yelling out car color and type so the kids would know if their parent was there to pick them up. Boychild had his piano recital today…I need to upload that video so his dad (and maybe his British grandma) can see it. I managed to bring food to that and then I came home and made tonight’s dinner and then tomorrow night’s dinner (soccer game). I also wrapped a bunch of presents, mostly the stuff that needs to go to Seattle. If I’m really good, I can stop at UPS in the morning on the way to pick up donuts for the winning class of the month on the way to school. I might even be able to BREATHE somewhere in there. Seriously.

Then I noticed three presents under the tree…for Mommy. From my kids. OK, it’s the girlchild who calls me that. Boychild calls me Mother. Sweet, I know. I’m trying to get all the Christmas stuff done. Some of it just isn’t going to happen this year. Or it will happen differently. I just can’t get my head around it.

I meditated. I exercised. I did not make any art. Sometimes this holiday stuff takes precedence. I knew if I didn’t wrap the Seattle gifts tonight that I might not get them mailed until Monday…so I did it. I should have done it weeks ago. There’s no point in kicking oneself over the should-have’s though. My whole life might be about the should-have’s…or not. Maybe I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing…except I’m not really a fan of fate ruling my life, any more than I subscribe to a deity being in charge, so there we are. Life just is. And we move on.

A significant lack of sleep is not helping at the moment.

I’d like to say that tomorrow night will be better, but there are three soccer games in the next 48 hours. I know, crazy, huh? And I realized that I didn’t plan a Saturday dinner, because I forgot I would have the kids that night. I never plan a Saturday night dinner, not even now, when it’s just me…it’s just leftovers or chicken and Brussels sprouts. Or the occasional dinner out (that would be twice in the last 6 months). Sad but true. I can’t really afford to do anything nice…we are considering doing Unsilent Night again, and last year that was followed by dinner out. We’ll see. I don’t know what we will have energy for by then.

I really want to go draw right now or cut out fabric, but I’ve had two nights with less than 5 hours of sleep and I need to fix that tonight…or at least do better. I need my wits about me tomorrow…some of them. Then I can settle in to making art for hours each day and going to the gym regularly again and trying to eat right and drawing when I want to and reading more and cleaning the damn house before I go totally bonkers with the mess. And dealing with the 17 million errands that have been piling up. And sleep? Maybe? Some more sleep would be good. And at least one hike a week…three weeks off? I should be able to do that, right?

Maybe I will feel more peaceful then. Less like mosquitoes are buzzing me. Goodreads says I read 76 books so far in 2013, almost 30,000 pages. They call it a year in review, so I wonder why they don’t publish it and the stats on like January 1? It would make more sense. I could easily finish another 4 books before the New Year. I will probably finish one in the next 48 hours (it’s short). All the library books I had on hold are being delivered this week, it seems. I actually feel pressure to read more to catch up. Weird, I know. I love reading, love losing myself in someone else’s world for a while. Love reading other people’s stories. So much better than my own right now.

OK, I managed to upload the videos (which really only family care about) of the boychild’s recital…here’s the first one…

Yup. He made mistakes. All four of the teenaged players admitted to not practicing near enough. And that’s why they’re not famous.

And here’s the four of them doing that holiday favorite Don’t Stop Believin‘. No really…

Don’t ask. Someday I will remember to record video by holding the phone sideways. I don’t know when I will remember that. I did actually remember in the middle of the second video. Whoops.

My mood has wandered off. It’s tired of hanging out with me. There are pros and cons to that.

Compare and Contrast

A common school topic: compare and contrast. What things are similar; what things are different? Is there a Venn diagram in play? Christmas 2012: I was stressed, but relatively happy. I was very happy to start vacation and I got lots of art stuff done in the weeks leading up to Winter Break, as well as during Winter Break. I was happy. I even wrote that. Christmas 2013: I haven’t gotten through all of it yet, but I’m not really looking forward to anything…even sleep is kind of pointless, because when I have a chance to, I still don’t manage it. I will be making art, but I do that all the time now. It will be nice to have a break from school, and yes, I’m still stressed, but it’s all coated with sad and feeling bad, so none of it really feels like it matters. Even finishing quilts doesn’t feel like it matters. That’s lame. Definitely not happy.

So in the intersection, in the Venn as it were: stress, making art, finishing quilts. Does that mean those three things don’t contribute to my happiness? Then what does? How do I make the jump from YES, the last six months have sucked big time and you’re really sad, to a new life where I’m not sad all the time? I don’t know. I really don’t.

I know I managed technology issues this year for the big December school project way better than last year. I am a million times more organized. I only almost lost it twice, and in the end, I didn’t lose it. I breathed. Three kids survived my wrath. Seriously…sometimes teenaged behavior is beyond my understanding. There is no concept of consequences in their minds. Then again, some adults are the same way. I guess they piss me off the same way. No. That’s not true. I write off adults like that. They’re just fucking stupid. The kids still have a chance…their prefrontal cortexes are still developing and may still turn out less assholular. Empathy is part of that…there are adults with no empathy for others, no understanding of others’ lives, even when they are very different from your own. Empathy…a pretty important quality in a person, especially in a relationship. If there is no understanding of how the other exists, of how they navigate their presence on the planet, then there is no real relationship, is there? I get empathy from across the planet. Aliens are empathizing with me and I with them…I swear.

The kids and I ventured out together as a family unit to do some secret Santa and other Christmas shopping. I texted to the girlchild (on the other side of the store) about studded leggings for the niece (apparently not acceptable), while the boychild tried to pick out a stuffed animal for a girl he barely knows. Fun stuff! I did find plenty of Zombie bullets (see previous posts), so I am feeling OK about that. OK, girlchild found them. I paid for them. Nerf has gotten a lot of my money over the years…

Two more days of school…my brain has not even engaged with the concept of Winter Break. I’m so far behind on everything…it will just have to be that way this year. I suck this year. I may suck for years to come. I don’t know how not to suck at the moment. My kids are approaching adulthood and are weathering their mom’s suckitude in a great way. They are propping me up on either side. They will be there when I am old and crazy. They will make sure I’m OK in the end…they will make sure I get to make art until I’m ready to stop…if ever. I can’t imagine navigating this world without them.

And yet, despite the suck…I exercised, I meditated, I cooked dinner. I did artistic stuff…

Still cutting these fuckers out.

The pile gets bigger…almost need to just toss it out because it will make a mess soon. I’m at almost 8 hours. Four to go? Maybe? I don’t know how efficient I’m being…not very.

So the reason I was comparing the two Christmases was because I went back and read December 2012 to see how much art quilting I got done, because I am concerned about getting this complicated quilt done on time. In reality, I am much further ahead on my grading than I was last year at this time, and like I said, way more efficient about the technological parts of the projects that were due today. I will still have grading to deal with over break…that’s unavoidable…but last year was really really bad and I’m trying to avoid that this year. I did have two quilts in progress last year during December, although I was further behind in one, but the one I was cutting out had a lot fewer pieces than the Celebrating Silver quilt does. Plus I got out a week earlier than the kids last year, so I had all this time during the day and I got all the Christmas shopping done. I am having a really hard time with that this year, because I have no one around but me to do any of it…and even wrapping is impossible because they are always here. So I will need to deal with some of that at some point. I don’t know when.

As far as the quilting goes, I think I will be OK, because I do actually have a good chunk of January in which to finish, but I need to leave time for photography as well, so I’d really like them both done by the end of my Winter Break. So that’s my goal. Plus start a new large one and some smaller ones. Plus find some happiness somewhere and try it on for size.

I don’t actually believe that I can do that right now. I don’t think it’s an option. I don’t know how to get there.

Someone asked about Calli…

She is still in pain of some sort, although it is much better. We were told when she was very young to expect hip surgery (one hip at a time) when she was around 5 years old, which will be in about 6 months. I think the cold makes it worse for her. She’s definitely better than she was on Friday, but she is not necessarily good. I need to take her to the vet for that and for her belly (itchy rashy yuck), plus take Midnight and her stuffed-up grody nose, but I really don’t have any free time until…um…maybe Christmas Eve? Seriously. Sunday, but the vet’s not open. Soccer tournament, piano recital. Shoot me now. I made rice krispies treats tonight for the recital tomorrow. Tomorrow night, I have to make dinner for tomorrow AND Friday, because the soccer game goes until like 7:30 or something and I won’t have time beforehand and suspect exhaustion by the time I get home. I think I will just quit cooking over break and let the girlchild take over.

But then it will get a little easier as far as the schedule is concerned.

I guess the Venn diagram includes goals for break, goals for art stuff and school. Goals for exercise and healthy eating and meditation. Strangely, I am still losing weight, although it seems I shouldn’t be. My body is significantly confused. I have at least two major quilts in the planning stages for when I finish these two.

But when I compare and contrast Kathy of 12/12 to Kathy of 12/13, it’s really just depressing. There’s very little overlap. I sort of half recognize her, I realize she was me at one point, but I also know I won’t be her again. It’s like floating in space without a tether (no, I haven’t see Gravity yet…that is one of the depressing things: not going to the movies any more…everything is so expensive). I don’t know who to be. How to be. I know I want to do some things in my future, when I can…travel to the places that have always been on my list, but not necessarily other people’s lists. I want to write. I want to change jobs at some point. I want to do smaller things, like clean out my garage and finish my bathroom and the kids’ bathroom (major money issues there). I just want my bedroom decluttered. I wish I felt like I had the mental energy to do stuff like that, but it’s just way beyond my ability at the moment. It makes me want to crawl into bed and never come out.

Be kind to yourself, eh? It’s that time of year. Draw more. Comfort food. Plenty of exercise. Plan a hike with the monsters. Read a book (or 10). Clean a room. Donate some stuff. Toss some stuff out. Take some dogs for a walk. Pie for breakfast is OK sometimes. Sing a song. Dance to something. Comb a cat.

Stop looking at last year and expecting anything. There is nothing to expect.

Resting in Uncertainty…

From last night at an awful hour: “My god, I feel like I’m drowning in tears. I went to bed early because I was so exhausted, and now I am wide awake and crying. WTF? The brain and the body are so disconnected they can’t work together for a common goal: mending me.” So tonight, I’m up late, because my brain won’t wind down. It really isn’t a healthy mix of behaviors. I did go to the gym tonight…left school as early as I could (tutorial) and left a recipe and ingredients for dinner, but said I would deal when I got home. Girlchild has lots of schoolwork this week…but she was starting to cook when I got home. She really is amazingly good at it, and she’s forced me to be a better cook too…using ingredients and trying recipes I wouldn’t have tried before. It’s so strange how creativity that runs in families actually manifests itself. Maybe the next generation will include a clothing designer or a creative architect…you never know.

I forced myself to enter a show this morning; then cried all the way to school and barely got it under control crossing the parking lot. I wanted to make sure I did something art-related after last night. It was a good thing to enter. I don’t remember what made me cry…I often don’t think it’s anything logical. A piece of music, some lyrics, a reminder of something somewhere. Whatever. Logic is not in play at the moment. It’s all about emotion.

Jake keeps going to the door, expecting to be taken back to his house…looking for his daddy. Poor guy. He’s restless. He has been behaving though…no jumping up or biting. Good boy.

My school day was ruled by technology management…iPods with dying batteries, bad cords, learning iMovie on the iPod and phone and how to move files from there to here, setting up my new school computer, trying to set up my new tablet for school…you end up having multiple Google accounts, multiple YouTube accounts, just to manage school and home lives separately. It gets confusing and overwhelming. The new Mac plugs suck, by the way…the part that attaches to the laptop itself is a pain in the ass to use. When is everything going wireless? My life would be so much easier if we could charge everything wirelessly…I spend so much time plugging things in and managing plugs and charging stuff. In other Apple news, one of their commercials made me cry tonight. Then again, I cry at the drop of a hat. No, it didn’t have any jewelry in it. Those ads just annoy me…same with the car ads and the shaver ads. Christmas this year is a little rough. I need to shop for stuff, but have no free time away from kids, due to the ex being gone and multiple events that a parent should attend. No one to help at all. I think it will be a different kind of Christmas this year…I think I will just enlist the kids’ help…I know they realize I am struggling. As the girlchild told me tonight, I’m a downer. I try. They know. They are trying to keep me up. It makes me cry just to type that. Whoops. I read this morning about why some people have repeating depressive episodes and some don’t…something to do with the brain and how it works. Does it take into account the same damn shit happening to a person? Wisdom comes from experience. I will be a very wise old woman…or a just plain old crazy one.

I spent all day at school repeating “seriousness will occur.” Sometimes I wonder what the people in charge are thinking when they say things like that…seriously. We aren’t allowed to show any movies or do any celebrating of anything this week, let alone finishing the damn performance tasks, or in my case, their Project Fred is due tomorrow. No food, no parties, nothing but serious work. We’re all a little loopy, especially the teachers. There is apparently video of me dancing on one of the iPods. Hey. Whatever gets me through at the moment. But dammit, seriousness will occur. (I don’t know when, and if it does, you can’t blame it on me…I will be the goofy one with the Santa hat)

The kids found a new timesuck: Quiz Up. This app will suck up all available time if you let it. That’s the UP in the app name. I’m beating college students, though. I feel really really good about that (no I don’t). I’m really good at walking away from these types of time sucks. The boychild is reasonably good, unless it’s role-playing games (although if he has actual schoolwork, he does prioritize well…just don’t ask about college apps, because I might scream). The girlchild? She sucks at it. Seriously. These things take her down. Brain chemistry. I guess mine is ruled by the artistic bent…hers by procrastination and distraction. I wonder how much of that she will grow out of and how much she will fight for the rest of her life.

So, after yesterday…well, I always learn stuff about me after really bad days (weeks, months)…I learned that I need to make art. Every. Fucking. Day. So I did lots of it tonight to make up for the lame crap of yesterday…I cut stuff out…

mostly flesh and thorns tonight…lots of big fleshy leg pieces…

There’s all the scraps. The pile grows.

Girlchild left this lying around…

Apparently if they send all these postcards to Macy’s, they’ll donate money to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She did one card about her AP Bio grade and another about snow in San Diego for Christmas. Good luck with that, child.

I also quilted tonight…because the girlchild was in one room doing homework and I didn’t want to disturb her by watching TV and cutting stuff out, so I did the other art quilt task that is hanging over my head…

Although I did have a thought about whether it was better to have this piece be finished in January 2014 rather than December 2013…for one thing, I could show it longer…but then I would have fewer quilts finished in 2013…which wouldn’t really matter in the big picture. Who’s looking at that as a matter of my success? Well, except for me, and I can just get over it. I’ve finished 8 quilts in 2013, although two were small and none have been finished since September. It’s OK. I rarely finish anything between September and December.

The cats are all adjusting to Jake’s presence, which means Babygirl is perched up higher than normal…it’s hard to move the mouse when she sits there.

I asked her to deal with the computer backup issue, and she just stared at me.

Girlchild came to school yesterday so we could get to her soccer game. I left her alone in my classroom for 15 minutes and she started writing song lyrics on the board.

I left it up to entertain my students this morning.

I finished this book today…Blackout by Connie Willis…

It’s one of two books that I’m reading for a book club…the second one is on its way via the library system. I wasn’t sure I liked it at first, like for the first two thirds of the book. It was mostly WWII historical stuff, although it’s about time travel, but then it got more interesting when the system stopped working right. I’m not a history fan usually, and even less so of wars, but this is less about the war and more about people’s reactions to what was going on in England during WWII seen through the eyes of people from the future. The second book, All Clear, is really a continuation of the story, so we decided in the book club to read both for the months of December and January.

Meditation…it was about change…about being thrown off course and maintaining one’s position, resting in uncertainty…I think that’s what I’ve been doing for 6 months now. It doesn’t feel good, but that’s not because of the change itself…it’s because of how the change happened, which sort of created a reaction in me…this sadness, grief, depression now I think…I think it has moved into that, because I can’t shake it. I mean, I do shake, like a dog, and bits and pieces fly off, and then I get angry and pull pieces off and throw them far away from me, but there are so many clumps that are clinging to me and just hanging on and I can’t shed them. I was so much better at this post-divorce. My anger at the situation was so much stronger and I was so much stronger, and I just jumped back up and into living and forcing myself to be something. Now I just don’t have the energy or the drive for that. I don’t want to do some things over again. This is why the girlchild labeled me a downer. And my counselor says I purposely do some things to push people away, and I say, but those people that are pushed? I don’t want to deal with them anyway. I’m not going to stop being an artist to please the majority of people out there. I’m not going to start wearing makeup or high heels and cute little dresses just because people expect women to do that. I’m not going to start being like the majority of women out there just because that’s what women do. I just don’t care enough to do that. If that’s what your expectation of me is? Then fuck you. I want to make more art. I want to get into more shows. I think I might want to write a book or seven. I want to be at peace. I want to be happy. None of these will be under the Christmas tree this year. This year is all about survival…of the fittest? I’m not sure I am the fittest. I don’t seem to be. I seem to be pretty messed up. That said, I am pretty damn strong. Strong enough to keep getting up, to keep creating, to keep trying to make it better.

Resting in uncertainty…it’s an uncomfortable place.