Not Resolving Anything…

So. New Year. I hiked…geocached actually…for the first time. More about that later…but it was supposed to be for a few hours and turned into the whole day…something about getting lost, an impromptu climbing of a mountain, some bushwhacking, and a much longer hike than we expected…but all good in the long run. The pro of long hikes like that is that they mostly occupy my brain, especially one that required some higher levels of thinking (well, sort of)…the con is that I’m not getting any art or other life crap done when I’m out there. It’s a balancing act. I have stuff I need to get done. But my brain needs the space. I haven’t figured out the balance yet. Ever? I think I will never find the balance. The other con after a long hike like that is pure exhaustion…I couldn’t get my brain to deal with ironing until really late in the day…um, night actually…so I didn’t get much done. I will have to be better tomorrow.

Worth it for that tree alone…

And these…

And for long stretches of this…the mood was definitely improved today. It’s not a mistake that I drag myself outside on these hikes so much…it clears the webby dark bits of the brain. Meditation helps with that too…I had to come up with a question for today. I cycled through a bunch, couldn’t get the wording right, finally settled on “Why are you still sad?” because the counselor had asked me that too and I couldn’t answer, and today on the way back from the hike, my brain was doing weird shit with hope and crap, and I kept thinking to myself, saying to that PART of my brain actually, “What the FUCK are you thinking? Why does that seem like something GOOD to you? Are you a fucking idiot?” Um. Well. Since it’s my brain, I guess the answer is yes, I’m an idiot. Great. Still got some work to do (no duh…anyone who spends any time with me at all knows that).

Yeah. Well, tomorrow the boychild turns 18. I really shouldn’t call him the boychild any more, but manchild seems weird. I guess he will always be my boychild. Erg. That was sickly sweet. Anyway, presents and cake for the boy…and Mexican food (it’s what he wants). He finished all but one college application today, with the last one not due until January 9. That’s a relief…presumably for him as well. Now we wait. Sigh. And hope. I guess I can’t make him do yardwork tomorrow. He’s used the apps as his excuse for days (really?)…so I’ll give him one more day. Friday he can be Chore Man.

The question of the last 24 hours, everywhere I’ve gone, has been, “What’s your New Year’s Resolution?” Um. Yeah. Not going there. Not picking an inspirational word for the year either, and I’m not setting any more goals than the ones I’ve been carrying around in my head for the last 6 months. I’ve graduated beyond “survive” to something more like “live,” with some codicils. “Happy” might be next on the list, but I need instructions for that.

Part of my problem with getting to the ironing tonight was that I had only a little bit of this book to go, Stephen King’s Doctor Sleep…

Good book…not horror…more fantasy…a nice sequel to the Shining story, and well-written. The man can toy with your emotions. So I finished reading it first.

I’m still working my way through all the library holds that came in during the last two weeks…I’m staying caught up with all the due dates for now, but I have 4 more books that have to be finished in the next three weeks (some I only have 10 days left on the reserve). Then I can start to read some of the books I got for Christmas. Hopefully. Luckily, I enjoy reading.

After I finished, I finally started ironing at about 10 at night…I started on the Maiden…

She went together fairly quickly…

I’m not sure if she has fewer pieces than the Mother (I think so)…

I’m about 6 1/2 hours in, 670 pieces ironed. Another 6 hours to go? Something like that. I’ve been remarkably inefficient this vacation in terms of getting art done. Oh well. It will get done somehow.

There. I resolve to get this quilt done. Soon. In time for the deadline. Easy peasy. Then I’ll do the next one. And the next one. And in between, I’ll go on hikes. Or to the gym. Does not sound hard. For now? I resolve to go to sleep…

I’ll Let You Know When It’s the New Year…

So this is the magical change over to the New Year, when everything is fresh and you have a new slate and the whole year can be different than last year. Yeah. I bet you know what I think about that. It’s just a day, a night, an hour. I watched some of it earlier, not by choice. I reveled briefly (not really). I ventured out briefly. Then ironing fabric called me back. I spent too much of today asleep (girlchild’s bus was really late…she stumbled in around 4 AM and I didn’t really sleep until she was home), at the gym, or reading. Or just plain procrastinating, trying to give my brain some space to exist with itself.

So I did start ironing eventually, but my kamikaze plan to be done tonight is not happening. Not shocking really. I make plans so I can break them and make new plans, right? I’m not as motivated to finish as I should be. Part of my brain is squawking about deadlines and the to-do list, and the other part is trying to relax and be on vacation. They’re a bit at odds.

So I ironed the mother’s head…

I’m rethinking my background fabric. I think it will be too dark. I also think I need to do some serious threadwork or something…two of my fabrics are too close together. Or something. It may be that when everything is all together that it will make me happier. Until then, I’m stressed about it.

I was less stressed when I came back from trying to be sociable (it’s OK…I failed…) and started working on the bird…

Is it a hawk? It’s something not-raven for once…

And it has over 100 pieces in it, and it’s now done. I’m at about 550 pieces ironed and 5 1/2 hours in. Sigh. Less than halfway done…and the next three days are busy. But I think if I focus better (fuck, what’s the probability of that happening?), I will get done.

I made some more geocaching thingies today, but screwed two of them up by not remembering the instructions…

Anyway, if I have time tomorrow, I’ll do a couple more…

I don’t think it really matters how many I have…

I forgot to take an after picture, but I put two of them in upside down by accident…

So they didn’t flatten properly. Shrinky Dink science is very particular, and I am too much of a space cadet to follow instructions. So I made cookies instead. Actually, I didn’t do too well with those either, but they’re good to eat at least. Do I need cookies? Fuck no, I don’t, but I made the mistake of going to the grocery store after the gym and before eating anything, because I needed to buy supplies for the boychild’s birthday cake, and we’re all just damn lucky I didn’t buy a lot more food. Do NOT go to the store when you’re hungry and depressed…it is just a fucking bad idea.

Anyway…the mood is still rancid, so I’m dragging my ass outside on a hike tomorrow with people who don’t know me (really, that’s better for everyone involved…I can handle my kids or strangers…nothing in between), hopefully to beat my brain into some semblance of peace and calm in honor of the New Year, which again, is just the next day on a standardized calendar that doesn’t really make any sense. I’ll let you know when I think it really IS the new year. We can celebrate then. Apparently there are quail hunters on the loose where we will be hiking (I did not know this was legal, and I’ve never seen quail out here…I think…so I’d like to see one, preferably not shot, and I’d like to NOT see hunters). And then hopefully I will come back and iron the maiden (Iron Maiden, huh uhuh uhuh…) and then move on to the next thing on this beast. If I need a new background, I can decide that once it’s all ironed together.

Anyway, another loser New Year’s Eve for me…wish I could have spent it differently, but such is my life at the moment. At least fabric was involved…that’s always the best way to start a new year. Which reminds me, here’s the quilt roundup from 2013…

Not a bad year for quiltmaking, which was the good news…one is only a detail, since I’m not allowed to show the full quilt until May 2014…but 8 quilts finished (with one about to be finished this week and another within two week’s time, just like last year)…albeit, three were relatively small, but two of them were quite huge. So…achievement…in the face of nasty ass depression. At least I can still do that.

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.

Loosening Knots…

I’m trying to move on to the next steps for both the in-progress quilts…I keep getting behind on my self-made schedule. Sometimes it’s just getting side-tracked…sometimes I just can’t find the right mood to get to work. Today was more of the latter, I think…a very moody day. I delivered two quilts for a show up in Orange County opening in January, then went to the quilt store to try to find binding for the Love (not love) quilt.

I think I bought a lot of red fabrics and I’m not even sure that the one I chose for the binding is all that good. It’s a little difficult to open up your naked-lady quilt on the floor of the quilt store when there are that many people wandering the store, and it’s easier for me to choose when I can see it from a distance. My red stash is getting low, though, and good reds are hard to find. I’m not sure I really did the right thing with buying more red, but…sometimes, the fabric calls. I was in a bad mood, so that was not probably the best time to go shopping. Sigh.

Money is such a mess at the moment. The car’s catalytic converter is dying or has died, the upper oven in the kitchen is going twonky again, but in the other direction…I can’t afford to fix either of those at the moment, and luckily neither is particularly crucial. The car will drive without the catalytic converter working until it needs a smog check (I try not to think about my contribution to climate change, thank you), and there is a second oven that works fine at the moment. I can try adjusting the oven again like the fixer guy showed me, or I might need another part, which is another hundred bucks or so that I don’t have at the moment.

So yeah. Maybe I should have pieced my binding from scraps off the floor. I do think that sometimes…what am I doing making art and entering shows when money is tight? I have two quilts that need to ship this month too, so that’s more money out. Sigh. I’m sure there’s a balance and I haven’t found it…probably never will.

I did make myself sort fabric pieces earlier today though…

I love the light table for this…it makes my life so much easier…I used to do this on the floor…

and my foot would fall asleep and it would tweak my back. Now it’s a piece of cake.

It took about an hour and a half to sort all 1250 or so pieces into the bins, one for each 100 pieces.

Lots of tiny little freakin’ pieces on this quilt. Seriously. It’s detail heavy. I hope it’s worth it. I hope it looks good. It does on paper.

I started ironing tonight…this is the first 100 pieces or so…

I was going to keep going but (1) realized I hadn’t exercised or meditated and it was getting late and (2) realized the next 100 pieces were pretty much teensy weensy skelly parts…

And it was going to take me forever to cut out all the finger and toe bones…some parts I don’t cut out until I’m ready to iron them down, because they’re so small, I will probably lose them. This quilt has lots of those. Anyway. I’ll do that tomorrow, when I feel a little less tired. Hopefully. I always forget how addictive the ironing is…it can be really exhausting, but it’s also very mind-consuming at times…it eats up all the available space and puts me in a great head place, very meditative and calming. Luckily, that’s what tonight was like…which is why it was hard to stop and do the stuff I knew I needed to do. That bodes well for getting this sucker ironed quickly. I want it done in the next two days. Seriously. Then stitched down and quilted. Yes. Seriously. I can do it. I think.

Yes, there are other things on my list for the next two days…but I think I can get it done.

I’m not sure the mood is better, now that I ironed some, but there is progress. Progress is good, even when it doesn’t fix everything. Sometimes moods are bad. Sometimes you wish you had done things differently, better, so that you wouldn’t be stressing over buying red fabric and fixing an old car so that it might last another 4 or 5 years. Too many regrets. Regrets sounds like egrets. Too many egrets. That is a better picture. I’m going to think about lots of egrets instead.

Sigh. Yes, I have to talk my brain out of the hole on a regular basis.

It didn’t help that I read this today, Joshilyn Jackson’s Someone Else’s Love Story…

I loved this book at the beginning…it was a great story that grabbed on and stuck. I had a hard time putting it down last night, but I managed to force myself so I could get something fabric-related done. I finished it today and…sigh…the ending. Oh well. I still love her writing…she has an easy, lyrical and descriptive style to her stories, and the depth of character is wonderful, but this one fell apart in like the last 30 pages. I was disappointed in the end…it was too pat, too pretty, too perfect. I’ll still read her stuff, though, and in fact, I started reading her books because I read her blog and she is hysterically funny, and that does pop up in her books. Her characters are quirky and the stories are too.

This story had sad running through it, though, and that made it harder to read…just because of where I’m at. I keep reading advice for the depressed, for those trying to be happy, for how to have a better life, and so many say that you should only read/see happy things when you are sad, and I’m not sure that’s good advice. I’ve been reading happy, sad, neutral all along, and the happy is kind of annoying at times, and then even more depressing at other times…like, why do THEY get to be happy when they are such lame-asses or assholes or fuck-ups? Wait, does that mean I am even MORE of a lame-ass? Yes, the brain ties itself up in that knot and I have to undo it…like the knot I took 20 minutes to undo at the soccer game on Friday night, cold hands and all…sometimes you just have to sit there and work the knot until it releases. I’m really good at that. I have lots of practice, both with thread and with my brain. This knot it’s in now? It’s gonna take a whole lot of time to undo. It’s a thoroughly fucked-up knot, all twisted together and hair strands are holding it together, like something that tied itself together in the dryer, tangled and tight and messy. I’m just picking at it with cold hands, cold heart, pulling at it, worrying it, fussing with it, making it loosen and come apart, a little at a time. It’s a stubborn knot, but it will eventually give.

See. I have hope. I always have hope. I don’t know where it comes from, and it often gets beaten down by the part of my brain that sees the world as all gray and oversalted and empty, but it’s always there, like a weed popping up in a crack in the asphalt.

With that, I’m going to take my cold self to bed, where Kitten awaits…

She sleeps on the pillow behind my head, and when she wants me to get up, she hurdles me, chirping the entire time…over and over again until I get up. Hopefully she’ll wait until a decent hour tomorrow morning. That would be a nice change. Maybe the knot will be a little looser too…

Passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Deep Shit*

It’s one of those introspective weeks. I want to get more art stuff done, but there is so much other crap that needs doing…plus honestly, spending time with the monsters kind of takes precedence. I say that, but I’m stressed about getting the art done that NEEDS to get done. I have deadlines. I’m not a flake. I can’t ignore them. And my brain keeps getting tied up in knots, tripping over itself. I wish it would just get ON with it.

It doesn’t help that I’m still dealing with grief and depression, or both, or some sort of frittata of the two. Even the counselor was trying to decide which…she thinks I’ve been suffering from a low-level depression for a long time (yup. agree. since about March of 2012) such that I don’t know how to NOT be depressed. But there is definitely a difference between how I was feeling then and how I feel now. Now it is just a dead, empty feeling…a constant sad, even when things are good. The things that made me happy, joyous before? Even when I was depressed? They don’t. I keep doing them. I know I have to keep doing them. The art is part of that. I get a sense of peace from certain artistic tasks, like drawing and tracing, but some of it is just like work, and finishing one part just means there will be more work. There is a sense of relief from finishing a task, but not the sense of celebration, hallelujah, that I used to get. I think that just takes time. Some people think it takes meds. I’m not in that camp yet. I don’t see how that will speed things up…it will just put the emotions off, over there; I will still need to deal at some point. I’d rather deal now…even if it’s fucking slow and hurts like a bitch. I can take it. Better now than reliving it later.

And that just fucking sucks.

Today? Today I should be celebrating my ass off. I finally FINALLY finished quilting the Love (not love) quilt…

Yup. I hunkered down a couple of days ago and thought I would be done, but the thread conspired against me and kept breaking and there was cat hair everywhere and I just didn’t have the stamina.

Yes, it takes fucking stamina sometimes. So it took a total of 7 hours and 36 minutes to quilt that sucker. I’m buying binding fabric tomorrow. I won’t finish it until 2014…there’s really no point in trying to finish it as a 2013 quilt…it’ll age out even sooner.

I started quilting it over the Thanksgiving week break, so it took a month. I was kinda lame during that month though. You have to get into the rhythm to quilt and I didn’t get there. It’s not a huge quilt either…so who knows what my problem was.

I also finally finished cutting out the damn pieces for the Celebrating Silver quilt. Here’s the trash…

I’m scared to throw the trash out, in case I messed up and threw a real piece in there (it happens). It took me a total of 15 hours and 35 minutes to cut all those pieces out…

I started on November 25 and have worked pretty consistently on it. The pieces were fussy…that’s why it took so long. Tomorrow I’ll sort them and start ironing. I realized I probably have 40 hours left in this quilt and only two weeks of break left. Insert panic here. I’m figuring another 15 hours to iron it alone…so that’s my New Year’s Eve plans right there, eh? Yes, I’m a loser. I do actually LIKE working on quilts as the year changes over. Maybe it will signal a better year for me.

Insert conversation with counselor here. We’re having some growing pains, the counselor and I, wherein she believes certain things and I believe others, and the two are not meeting in the middle. I don’t think it’s a death sentence to the relationship, but there is some understanding that needs to happen. Meditation usually helps me with that…it seems less judgmental…more supportive of the shit I am dealing with. There’s the semantics of “letting go” vs. “moving on.” I think I’ve done the first on some level, certainly in my head, but am completely unprepared for the second…and probably that will be for a good long while. It’s not just a matter of trusting others…you have to trust yourself, and that’s a harder deal for me at the moment. I get real caught up in words, in what they really mean. But there was the question of what is making me so sad? Is this grief? Depression? Does it really matter? What did I lose? Did it ever exist? My brain worries these things into the ground and comes up gasping for air and weeping disconsolately. Fuck. Just shut up. This is why I go to the gym and read books…so I don’t have to listen to my mind trouble things out. Meditation has been very relevant lately…when someone else does something wrong to you, you are the one carrying it around. You can’t control what others think and feel…you can only deal with your own response…so that is what I’m trying to modulate…my own response. I need peace and resolution within myself. Everyone else can go fuck themselves right now. I just need to give my own head the space to heal. I’m doing that on my schedule. If you think I should be further along? Well whatever. You can think what you like…it’s not my reality.

This all comes back to finishing…finishing things should feel exultant, joyous, successful…like achievement has occurred…and it doesn’t. I just try to fill the empty space that is now there with another project.

The cats have been helping in here…really…

by leaving fur everywhere…

I had to pack up two quilts for a show opening soon and the cat hair was the biggest issue. I dealt. I deliver tomorrow. Two more to be delivered in the next three weeks. These are not bad problems to have. I just wish they filled me up with some sense of achievement. Instead, they seem to magnify the emptiness. That just really sucks. I hate that feeling.

Jake…Jake was farting heinously tonight…

But we played with him and I think he even got popcorn and maybe some chicken. Big mooch. Girlchild was in a mood, alternately happy and psycho angry. It’s kind of typical for her…

I have to go to a thing next weekend and needed a nicer top for that, so she helped…but really, she wanted to shop (and she did, and hey! The 80s are still back and are still frightening). I managed to get her to stop watching sitcoms for a while so I could finish cutting pieces out (I have a very low tolerance for stupid happy)…

This is the embellishment I finished last night at the alumni game…

Not much of anything, but something. I’m grading stuff too, a little at a time. I’m trying to be efficient, to make lists, because otherwise I just completely forget what I’m supposed to be doing. My brain is on vacation in Tahiti and it’s not answering texts. Asshole.

I finished this book today…Hammered, by Kevin Hearne…

It’s the third book in the series of the Iron Druid Chronicles…there are three more books out in this series, which is considered urban fantasy. The main character is a druid, but there are witches and gods and vampires and werewolves and demons and all sorts of good things going on. This was a good book…the last one, there was some argument about Hearne’s treatment of female characters, but he riffs on that in this book, talking about the macho imperative. I will keep reading the series, but need to get through some of the other books on my docket first.

*the title is from Hammered, Kevin Hearne. It’s how many days feel…better than being in the valley, but still in the shadow.

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.

Keep Driving…

First of all, welcome to the 300 spammers who are visiting my website. It’s nice to have you here. Please make yourselves at home, but stop sending all those stupid misspelled messages that make no sense. Wow. First I typed massages. I wish they were sending massages. That would be helpful. But no…they’re sending messages. Stupid ones. It’s OK. I know how to delete.

Secondly, hello crazy time of year. I’m done with you. Now move on. I’m ready to skip to the 26th. Actually, I can handle the 25th. Everything has to be done BY then, so the day itself isn’t so bad. It’s just the cooking, and girlchild doesn’t let me do much of that. I think I’m in charge of breakfast and deviled eggs…and even that’s questionable. And I’m OK with that. I am so secure in my femininity (cough cough) that I can skip the cooking portion of my life and just be in charge of something like trash detail and kitchen cleanup. I have no issues with letting my 16-year-old daughter rule the kitchen…like forever.

With that in mind, there is this video on holiday meal etiquette:

But I like Brussels sprouts…and you watch too much porn. Yes, you.

And this has made me cry every single fucking time I’ve seen it…

which may just be about me.

Today was the finals for the soccer tournament the girlchild’s team has been in for the last few days. It was tied 0-0 at the end, went to two 5-minute overtimes, still 0-0, then penalty kicks, where her team lost…it always sucks to get that far and then lose, but it is what it is. The coach made some really shitty decisions throughout the game, and I think the girls paid for that. My girl didn’t play much…

which didn’t make sense, considering the laziness of those he did play. The day I understand this coach will probably be the day I die. We’ve dealt with a lot of coaches over the years, and his decisions confuzzle me every time. And I’m not just saying that because I think my kid is better than everyone…she has good games and bad games…but if your forwards aren’t scoring and aren’t even running, then kick their asses to the bench and toss some new blood in there and see what they can do. Or not. And lose. Unfortunately, unless you change high schools, you’re pretty much stuck with the coach you get. So the plus is that in the past, when he pulls this shit, she gets sad and cries a lot…today, she was angry, angry because his decisions hurt the team in the final, and that was just stupid. Anyway. We move on. I’m sure it’s a teachable moment for all of us.

Speaking of teachable moments, Jake doesn’t appear to be learning…

He’s been bopped by every cat in the house now, and yet he still tries to eat them. He would also like to go out and run free for a while, but we’ve told him he has to stay in the backyard, where he barks a lot. Boychild took him over to their dad’s house on Saturday so he could run around there…although he CAN escape, strangely he doesn’t if someone is home.

We’ve played games with him, he gets fed and petted…he gets to sleep on the couch…

When there’s room…he seems happy enough. He’d like it if we’d feed him more people food and take him on long walks, but there hasn’t been time for that…time has been eaten up by doctor’s appointments and soccer games and Christmas-related errands and all that stuff. It’s better than the kennel though, and that’s where he was supposed to be. He’s quite well-behaved with me in my own house…he’s only jumped up on me once, and that was when we were playing this goofy game where I lunge at him and he barrels around a bit and then throws himself on the ground again for me to lunge at him again. At his dad’s house, he uses the couches as his sanctuary in this game, but he doesn’t seem to be able to figure that out here, so it’s mostly just goofy running around. He’s a large beast…which reminds me…one of the errands for tomorrow is dog-present-shopping. I’m also going computer-accessory-shopping, since the boychild thinks he might have some solutions to everything but the graphics driver/card issue, which may be a bigger problem than I can deal with at the moment. He was floored by how many photos I have (49,000+) and how much music I have. Music rules. I take lots of photos. What can I say?

I’m holding emotions at bay at the moment, most of the time. It’s all there, lurking, let out when I see things on TV that make me sad or read things that remind me of why I’m sad or drive past something that makes me sad. OK, lots of the time I’m sad. Mostly I’m too busy to think about anything but wrapping 20 presents and paying bills and making lists and going to the store for the third time in three days. I read this book, though…The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving by Jonathan Evison…

It’s about a 40-some-year-old guy working as a caregiver to a teenager who has muscular dystrophy. They both have issues to work out, and there is a road trip involved, and there is a sad sad story that is woven into the current tale, and there is some sarcasm and jokiness and some supreme horrible sadness, but it was a beautifully written book. If you read it, be sure to read the Author’s Note at the end…it will bring you to your knees and make the whole book mean something entirely different than you thought it meant. “This novel is about the imperative of getting in that van, because you have no choice but to push yourself and drive on, and keep driving in the face of life’s terrible surprises. It’s about the people and the things you gather along that rough road back to humanity.” It was a good thing to read as I’ve been trying to avoid the holiday platitudes on Facebook and on people’s blogs, making the season all the harder for those of us who feel like we’re missing something or that some things in life are just plain difficult for us and easier for others…knowing that nothing is fair and there is no fate and even karma doesn’t really play out, at least I haven’t seen that yet, though maybe I did such a heinous thing in a previous life that this is my payback. I don’t really believe in all that. So I just take deep breaths and keep driving and try to stop asking WHY…because there is no why that makes any sense…except maybe for girlchild’s explanation that the world is full of assholes.

Artmaking at this time of year is difficult until Christmas is behind me…but I managed lots of wool stitching at soccer today…these guys just need their cotton bits sewn on…

And these guys just have two cotton pieces to go on and they’re done…

minus all the embellishment of course. I have about 30 soccer games ahead of me where I can be doing that. Girlchild’s back is OK at the moment; her CT scan is scheduled for early January. Then we’ll decide about surgery. Scary stuff.

Meditation said yesterday that when feelings are uncomfortable, we have a tendency to run away from them. I’ve never (or at least as long as I can remember) been one to run from scary uncomfortable feelings. If anything, I hang out with them too much, let them have too much play with me. Meditation has given me some distance from them, but I still had issues yesterday at the gym, in the weightlifting portion of my workout, when there is no book to distract me. Audiobooks might help…I don’t know. I usually listen to music AND read…I need an audiobook with a soundtrack to occupy all parts of my brain. Or maybe not…maybe that’s me sitting with the uncomfortable, listening to it and watching it and responding to it. Maybe that’s why I’m better at the emotional bits than some, because I listen to them. I hear them talk and whine and fuss…I talk them out of some of their bitchiness. I live with some of it. I don’t know. I draw some of it. Need to do that. Draw. All these pictures in my head…they need to come out.

So I am still cutting things out…

FOREVER. OK, not really. I’m almost 10 hours into the cutting and I’m in the 600s (going backwards). That’s a little scary. I think it’s going to take more than 12 hours to cut them out…which isn’t surprising, because a lot of the pieces are really fussy and complicated.

Big pieces often take less time to cut out than small pieces. More tomorrow, hopefully. I have lots of errands and cleaning to do tomorrow. Doesn’t look like much, does it? It never does until they’re all ironed together.

Anyway. Hope your holiday preparations are going smoothly and that your family is gathering around and the weather is what you want it to be (I was barefoot in the sun at the soccer game today) and all the food is ready or will be ready and someone has wrapped all the presents and everyone is healthy and happy. Or at least as much of that as you can handle. I’ll personally be OK with my kids around me and the shopping done and wrapped and the floors clean. Anything else is gravy.

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.

I Made That…

This whole sleeping thing seems to be confusing my brain again. I don’t get tired until super late and then I can’t sleep at night and I can’t sleep in on mornings when I actually could (sleeping in meaning 8 AM) and then I yawn most of the day. That’s not how it should work. Eyelid still twitching. I don’t know if it will ever stop. Last year at the end of the school year, in June 2012, it twitched for over a month…took until about 3 days after I got out of school to stop. Maybe it will be done by Christmas.

I managed exercise (not enough), meditation (brain was barely present), and cutting out fabric (57 minutes)…

This one was fun. Yes, a spider web…in pieces. None of these pieces are easy to cut…they are all so complicated and fussy. Occupies my brain. Good thing. It was getting irritated by grading tests. Bad scores. My daughter and SIL were grading warmups for me…interesting experience for the SIL, a former teacher in a very different type of school. Maybe she has a better idea of my student population now. She made an interesting comment about holiday bonuses and teachers not getting them…she said, well don’t you get gifts from your students? Um. No. Occasionally. A candy cane sometimes. I’ve gotten mugs, a few picture frames, and a shot glass (yes, seriously), and a scorpion in a keychain. That was way cool. It’s OK. I don’t expect them…it was just funny to me that she thought we all got tons of stuff…she was in a private school in Seattle. Much different group of students.

So tonight I needed to do art stuff. The pile of pieces that are cut out is getting bigger…

Although it doesn’t feel anywhere close to done…and it’s not, at 5 1/2 hours. I suspect there’s another 6 or so hours to go. I wanted to be further along. I always want to be further along. I’m a little driven. I don’t know why. I mean, yes, there is a deadline and I have to get it and the other quilt done and photographed by a certain date, but it’s more than that. It has been for a long time. It’s worse now, like this is the only thing I have…and it has to mean something after all the shit I’ve been through. There has to be something that I can look at and say, yes, that was worth the time, the effort…because other things I have put that time and effort into? They either have failed or they don’t make me happy. At one time, the art made me happy. I hope it will again. Sooner rather than later.

And the pile of leftover bits is also getting bigger…

Usually I throw it away every night, but it’s showing me something. Progress. I need to see that at the moment. Everything else is such a crazy mess: the house, Christmas plans, school, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness. At least one thing should be easy to look at and see progress.

Today was easier…spent time with the close family, my brother and his crew, parentals, and my own two monsters.

They don’t make me answer hard questions (much). Girlchild is going to be a mess tomorrow…no cousins, no dad…he flies to the UK tomorrow for two weeks. That will be hard on her more so than the rest of us. Jake will be here, for those who remember his exploits in escaping. We’ll have to see how that goes…hopefully he will curtail his awesome love for me and only jump up on me two or three times a day.

Some family member at the party yesterday gave the two male cousins each one of these…

Which of course they loved…but we decided that the TSA would NOT love them and so they were handed to me to ship to them with their (obviously going to be late) Christmas presents…which meant that my kids bogarted them as soon as we got home and proceeded to shoot each other all over the house and lost one of the bullets, but we think we can get a 30-pack, plus now I know what Santa is putting in their stockings. It was seriously dangerous around her for a while (they are nerf bullets…no real damage). I think Santa is sending extra bullets to the boys too…at least that’s what he told me.

Although he couldn’t explain this warning sticker on the guns…

These are Zombie Blasters, by the way. Apparently you shouldn’t shoot them near books. Or books are dangerous. Or you shouldn’t shoot them in libraries. Or if you shoot them, you will be attacked by books. Not sure.

Anyway. It’s a busy week. I will try to hold to exercise, meditation, and art on a daily basis. The thought of having to cook for real every night and schedule around multiple soccer games and juggle everything under the sun with no help is a little daunting, but hell…I’ve been doing it for years. Hence my stress levels. Working on that. It reminds me that I never had the help I really wanted. It wasn’t available. It’s on my list for next time, if there is one. Of course, knowing what you want and actually getting it are two separate things that rarely meet. Everything is so complicated. I think I’d rather just deal with my quilts for now. They’re complicated, but they’re MY complicated. I can handle that. I made that.

Reasonable Excuses for Weeping

There are reasons why people cry, good ones and bad. I find myself crying when people give birth on TV…the real thing, not the made-up stuff. Never happened before I gave birth to my own. People tend to give you an out if you’re crying at a wedding or a funeral. It’s OK to cry during a sad movie…a little less OK to cry while reading a sad book, at least in public (although I have done it at the gym…then again, at my gym, no one reads…they all watch TV). It’s OK to cry during a sad song (REM, Everybody Hurts), but probably not while out walking the dog. People look at you strange. PMS makes many women cry, sometimes for good reason, sometimes not one that we understand. Pain makes us cry…understandably…but less so for men, unfortunately, in today’s world. Frustration often makes us cry, although more so as a child…not being able to get what you want forces tears out of those ducts. Sorrow makes us cry…true…for whatever reasons that cause the sad in the heart…death is certainly the big one.

After all that, I mourn the death of my parents’ dog, Missy, who had a brain tumor and had been suffering seizures.

She’s been on this blog on and off for years, and she had a good long life, but it’s still difficult to have loved ones die, even the furry ones who eat poop and pee on the carpet and nip at you when they’re annoyed. She was a good dog, even when she wasn’t being good. She had been so anxious in the last few months…the tumor was probably pressing on something that caused that, or maybe she just knew something wasn’t right. Whatever…she’s OK now.

When I was trying to find a decent picture of her (she always looks a bit psychotic with the two different-colored eyes), I ran past pictures of three other animals of ours who are now dead. It’s been a rough run for animals…most lived good long lives like Missy, but it’s still sad to look back and remember them all. She will be missed.

So today has been a little more weepy than normal…I mean, normal for me now, which isn’t normal. Whatever normal means any more. Meditation has been having me ask myself questions…this week, the question is “How would you feel if you knew today was your last day?’ I always have issues with the semantics of their questions…last week’s really threw me grammatically for a while, but the idea is to watch your emotional reaction each day for a week and see where it goes. Obviously, they are aiming at getting you to see the big picture and stop worrying about the little stuff that’s annoying you, but my brain at first feels for my kids, who would probably be most affected. Today I focused more on the feeling that I’m not very happy at the moment, so it’s not that it feels like I’d be missing out on big happy moments. Kind of a depressing thought…funny that…a depressing thought from a depressoid. It didn’t help to look back at some of those animal photos from the past while looking for Missy pictures…there were many happy moments in there, reminders of happier times, and that hurts. I can hope to have more moments like that in my future, I guess, but it’s hard to see that at the moment. Everything right now is just very flat. Empty.

Every day. Even the ones where I spend some time with friends or go to the gym or make art. Flat. Empty. I’m really starting to dislike that feeling. It is in many ways worse than the sad…the sad is hidden underneath it, like the flat emptiness is a big down comforter, but not in the comfort sense of the word…in the suffocating heavy deadening sense of the word, and sad is squished down small and uncomfortable underneath all that.

It’s this feeling that forces me to do art every freakin’ night. And to draw in meetings. And to write every night. And meditate. And cry. Fucking dammit.

I cut out more pieces…

Doesn’t look like much because it’s not…I’ve done 4 1/2 hours total. Sigh. Wanted to be much further along. It looks a bit better if you look at the trash pile…

but not by much.

This is how fucking morbid I feel at the moment…was at a Christmas dinner with friends who are all older than me, and all I could think is that I would have very few friends left in my old age, because they all will have died before me. Awful thought. Stupid brain. But the whole night was screwed up…girlchild and I are fighting about grades and schoolwork and pies. Yes pies. Don’t ask. And white shirts and family photos and Christmas and stupid shit.

I also, though, spent a lot of time trying to analyze why the iPhone 5s is so much more droppable than the 4 was. I have dropped my phone (which thank god has a case) way more times in the last few months than I dropped my 4 in the entire 2+ years I owned it. I’m analyzing the shape, the slippery nature of the case, the size, the heft. It is none of those things. It is me. I am even a bigger klutz than I used to be. Depression fucks up your brain AND your motor control. Great stuff that. New biological weapon. Unleash depression on the country we are warring against. No need for bloodshed…just make them really sad and they will just burn down their houses by accident and run into other cars and drop their phones, and we will just win the war like that.

I managed another batch of ornaments on the tree…

not done. Or maybe it is. Depends on how I feel about it.

And if we’re depending on my feelings, odds are they are predictably sad. I try to associate happiness with Christmas lights and trees and ornaments. I will have to cultivate that feeling.

Meanwhile, I’m going to take my other reasonable excuse for weeping, depression, to bed. Yes, depression is a perfectly valid reason to weep. It would be better NOT to have that weighing on you each night, and as soon as I can make that choice and get out from under it, I will. But for now, I will just carry it around…I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter.