Happy Candy Day!

Happy Day-Where-It's-Ok-to-Gorge-On-Candy to you! Well, that's all the holiday really means to me, anyways. I'm not in to that whole costume thing at all. But gimme a bag of candy, and I'm a happy camper.

In other news, the house continues to fall apart: The plumbing system (which we apparently share with the neighbors) backed up and our downstairs flooded. This was due, also, to the fact that our half-bath toilet runs (we always fix it when it does this, when we notice). This time, Chris was upstairs and I was not home, so the toilet kept running, and, because the plumbing system the duplexes share was backed up to begin with, the freakin' downstairs got gross.

So, this is what I came home to:

Think that's enough to scare the trick-or-treaters? I do. It's like our very own Halloween Nightmare. Boo!

In other news, I got my hair cut today, and I'm getting new glasses tomorrow. Fun stuff. I can't wait to be able to see!

So yeah, Chris and I are giving out candy and then we are most likely going to camp upstairs since the fan that our landlords gave us to dry up the wet carpet is SUPER FREAKIN LOUD. It's like we live on a jet or something. Oy.

Anyways, I was thinking of ways to be irresponsible on Halloween, and do you think I'd get in trouble if I went and bought some of those cute, tiny liquor bottles from the liquor store to give out to the kiddies? They're kiddie-sized... :)

Now, I shall grab another Twix, pour myself a brown ale (goes well with chocolate), and collapse until the next knock at the door.

On Pins and Needles

At the crack of dawn on Friday morning, I have to go get blood taken. And the doctor said I have to fast for 12 hours before the procedure. I'm pretty sure that means I will end up turning white as a ghost and then passing out, cracking my head open on a counter, and, ultimately, dying.

Now, that may seem dramatic, but that's only because I have this pretty intense fear of needles. People were not meant to have things STUCK into their flesh and blood. Nope, not at all.

So, I went in to talk about getting my thyroid checked (thyroid issues run in my familiy), and the doctor said I need to get blood taken to do so.

And the fasting thing is, I guess, because they're also checking my blood sugar and whether I'm anemic and blah blah blah. All I can think is that as soon as I know I can't have food, I will not be able to stop thinking about food.

Now I'm going to tell a super-embarassing story to get across how afraid of needles I am:

When I first came off of antidepressants, I had a really hard time handling anxiety... it was like I was on the pills for so long that I forgot how to handle the hard stuff without help. So, I went to the doctor to discuss it, and, because my blood pressure was high (white coat syndrome is what that turned out to be about), they decided to take blood. With no warning. So I totally freaked. In fact, I cried. Yes, I cried at the doctor's office at age 23.

Oy, so, when the nurse saw just how freaked out I was, she had me lie down on a doctor's table, and she used an infant's needle to draw the blood. I continued crying during the procedure, and, tears started pouring into my ears since I was lying down.

Well, I didn't die, but, later, I developed swimmer's ear. Yes, from crying. So, I guess it was really crier's ear. So I had to go buy that stuff that evaporates fluid in your ears.

The end.

Wish me luck Friday morning. I'll report back.

Alaska

It's been awhile, dear readers, because I have been spending almost all of my spare time reading. There is little that is better than reading a really good book, am I right? Especially when it's cold outside and you have a blanket and some kind of warm beverage, and when you have nowhere you have to be. And especially when Chris is spending all his time watching baseball. You know, baseball- the most BORING "sport" in existence.

Anyways, I'm reading another book by James Michener: Alaska. It's SO good. I can't stop reading it. Some of my friends got together to eat wings and watch the World Series, and I read my book the whole time. Life of the party am I!

I know I've written a lot about Michener's books, but that's because I love them so much. They make me want to see the world and learn everything I can about its people.

Alaska is great because I don't really know anything about Alaskan history. And it's full of characters who take risks and prioritize adventure and the search for knowledge. Then, on the other hand, there is tragedy and death and prejudice and deep sorrow. Reading it just makes me feel so alive!

A cheap, easy way to add a little adventure to life!

AND, I just love books that really *thump* when you set them down. You know, GIANT ones. And Alaska is 1,073 pages long. I'd say that's pretty respectable. Good stuff! They're the kind of books that make me cry when they're over because I get so invested in them.

So yeah, if I'm not posting, don't worry, I'm not dead. Just reading!

Things I'm Currently Obsessed With

I get obsessed with stuff. Regularly. I know, I know, I've mentioned this before, but, this is my blog, so you'll just have to deal with it. The items on my current obsession list change and evolve constantly, but here's a snapshot of my obsessions at this very moment:

Vinyl

Motown

Listening to Motown on vinyl

Finding a new house to move into next year

The idea of writing a book























Coming up with a budget

My new boots

Singing

Lattes

Coltrane's ears

The combination of blackberry flavored vodka and pomegranate liquer

Legend Brown Ale

Perfectly crunchy apples

Staying warm

Reading blogs

What are your current obsessions (and can I share them with you???)?

When it Rains It Pours

Well, I have no clue what the weather has been like where you live dear readers, but it has been rainy and grey for about three weeks straight here (today I can finally see blue sky though! Thanks goodness! I was about to lose what's left of my sanity).

As if that's not depressing enough, for whatever reason, The Palace has started crumbling around us. The trouble started about a week ago: We could hear a drip-drip-drip sound in our attic. We knew that wasn't a good thing. Then, a day or two later, we noticed a crack in our ceiling right where we were hearing the drip-drip-drip sound. Then, we contacted the landlord. That day, a guy came out and got on the roof and apparently patched some things up.

Well, it kept right on raining, and the roof kept right on leaking, despite the work the man did, until water started dripping from the crack in the ceiling (the fixer-guy said he wasn't going to patch the ceiling until he knew that the roof was no longer leaking and when he landlord gave him the green light). So, we had to put a big ole container on the floor under it to catch the water since it was raining IN our house.

The soaked ceiling and the leak

You can see the drip-drip-drip

Mr. Bucket (Balls do not pop out of his mouth)

Oy, and then it started raining harder. And then it kept leaking. And the landlords said nothing could be done while it was still raining, because it would be pretty dangerous to put someone on the roof in the rain. So, things just got worse:

Chris said he barely touched the ceilng and it disintegrated at his touch (hole on the right)

So, now it smells like a wet dog in our house (I guess it's wet insulation or something), and it's humid and gross and bad.

Mr. Fixer  Man told Chris that he thinks our entire roof needs replaced, but, of course, since we rent, that's not up to us. We'll see what the landlords decide to do I guess. It's pretty disconcerting to know that our roof lacks integrity though. I mean, what are we going to do when it snows this winter? Snow is heavy.

SO, we've been dealing with all of this stuff, and then all this other stuff went wrong:

-A shot glass fell down the drain, and I didn't know it, and I turned on the garbage disposal. The shot glass shattered, so now there are tiny pieces of glass still stuck in our kitchen sink drain. Then, it stopped working altogether. Fantastic.

-I think I've mentioned that I locked myself out in the rain the other day when Chris was out of town.

-Chris cut himself multiple times while sailing on Tuesday:

Ew!

-The lightbulb in our foyer burnt out.

-The lightbulb at the top of the stairs burnt out.

-Our screen door hasn't been able to shut in awhile, Mr. Fixer Guy fixed it, and now it's already messed up again.

And all of this was going on during an extremely busy week at work and an extremely busy week for the band (we have two gigs this weekend and had to learn several new songs).

So, I've barely been able to hold it together. I mean, it's already difficult enough for me to deal with it getting cold. I hate cold.

I hope you all have had better luck than we have lately!

Feeling Stupid

For locking myself out of the house on the rainiest morning we've had all fall (which is saying something), and when Chris wasn't back in town yet from a short sailing trip.

Go me.

Good thing I remembered my umbrella (though I would have rather remembered my EFFING keys!) and my phone.

And it's a good thing my boss lives a stone's throw from my house and was kind enough to pick me up.

The bottoms of my jeans will now probably be wet FOREVER, and I seriously tested the capacity of the waterproofing on my new boots. They passed the test: My feet are still dry.

And I made friends with a huge turtle with orange flecks on its shell that was mosying down the drive in the rain, so that's nice. I named him Sunshine.

Needless to say, this is how I'm feeling currently:

I can't wait for work to be over so I can go home and get a good workout in. I need an outlet for a wee bit of frustration.

UPDATE: Chris came to get me on my lunch so I could get my keys and take my car to work. He told me all about his stressful morning, proceeded to show me how he cut the dickens out of his finger on the rudder of the boat over the weekend, and then showed me some other cuts he got. He then told me that water is leaking through our attic, so now we have a water bucket on the floor under it. AND, when we got to the house for me to get my keys, the light bulb burnt out in the foyer. That was the last straw, and I've spent the rest of the day cursing the Woeful Wednesday Gods.

Oh, Woeful Wednesday, why aren't you over yet?

Time to Break Out the Handwarmers...

The weekend before this last one, Chris and I went sailing. Yes, we went sailing on a 53-degree drizzly day. Guess whose idea that was? I'll give you a hint: It wasn't mine. But we had to go, because the season is quickly drawing to a close and because the wind was perfect.

Here's a list of the layers I wore:
Sports bra
Thermal shirt
T-shirt
Sweatshirt
Winter coat
Running tights
Windbreaking pants
Wool socks
Hiking boots
Ski gloves
Beanie

And, even wearing all that, I was chilly. I have this thing called Reynaud's Disease... essentially, I have horrible circulation, which is really bad in my extremities (fingers, toes). If you click on the above link and look the scary-looking pictures of fingers, that's what happens to me.  And I'm just cold-intolerant in general. Winter is like a living hell to me. That's one of the reasons why I bought my new boots... gotta keep them toes warm!

Thank goodness I thought to bring a pack of handwarmers with me when we went sailing. Have you all seen these things? You open up a packet, shake the little pouch so that the various ingrediants mix together, which causes a chemical reaction that produces heat. Beautiful, wonderful heat. Over the years, many of the people I know have given me handwarmers as gifts, so I have this huge stockpile of them, which I'm planning on using all winter long.

Anyways, so I stuck the handwarmers in my gloves, which, I'm sure, was the only reason I could actually make myself useful and pull on ropes and stuff (things like gripping the steering wheel of my car or carrying a bag that is even slightly heavy greatly aggravate this condition in my hands).

It was another very windy day, so we reefed the main sail (which basically means that we made the surface area of the sail smaller) and we managed to explore part of the lake that we had never seen before because we were FLYING. It seriously felt like we were going 60 miles per hour for a minute there (Chris said it was probably more like 10, hahaha). To me, the craziest part was when we were going directly with the wind... it feels like you're barely moving (because you're going with the wind, there's not really any wind blowing against your face or anything)... until you look at the scenery flying by you. Amazing, really.

Oh yeah, did I mention we were the only CRAZIES on the entire lake? No? Hmmm, well, we were.

Then, I started to get pretty chilly and made Chris take us back to the marina (much to his dismay). I'm thinking I'm much more of a Tropical-Sailer-Type... Chris, though, comes from hearty Irish stock, and prefers to freeze his ass off.

Oy. Winter is coming....



I.HATE.COLD.



SAD

Recently, Her Royal Dooceness posted about how hard season changes are for people who are or have been clinically depressed (pretty much no matter how "mild" the case was). The post is here if you'd like to read it. She said her therapist told her that more suicides happen in September and May than any other months. I don't find this to be surprising at all, as I always feel really down when my favorite summer weather starts to retreat and when those short, chilly, grey, rainy, days replace those scrumptiously-wonderful, long, hot, bright days.

Every single seasonal change causes me to look inward (Though, the change from summer to fall is always the hardest one for me). It's like all the change that is swirling around me and is beyond my control reminds me of my own mortality, and my own true lack of control (and control freaks like me have problems dealing with the idea of not having a hold on something). I don't know if this has anything to do with ever having been depressed, but, you'd think I'd get used to the seasons changing every year (you know, because it happens 4 times every damn year!)... and I just can't seem to. I was strolling down the pedestrian mall in town when I took a short break from work (well, when I say I strolled, I really mean I bee-lined for the coffee shop), and I just got this overwhelming sense of sadness- this sense that everything I hold dear will, in varying amounts of time, be taken from me or me from it.

The change in seasons always always always compels me to make some changes in my life- sometimes big, meaningful changes, sometimes small, superficial ones. I almost always want to get my hair cut, buy new clothes, start a new hobby, and recommit myself to health and exercise. Hell, last fall was perhaps the craziest I went after the days starting getting shorter: I quit my job without the prospect of another one, and in the current market (I'm getting so sick of this "current market" shit... but hey, I ended up in a much better place because of that seemingly rash, crazy, season change-fueled decision). I also decided to try to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and, while serving out my two weeks' notice and then some, I wrote half a damn (awful) book.

I'm also always SO ready to move somewhere new (whether that means a new house or a new town, I'm not exactly sure) in the fall. Perhaps that drive comes from going off to school in the fall and moving into a new dorm, though I'm not really sure. Perhaps I'm like a goose- I want to move south for the winter (flying would be ok with me), as I certainly have no compulsion to move north... I'd probably never survive in Alaska or one of the Nordic countries (not just because of the cold, also because of the lack of light!), where the sun literally goes away for months at a time.

And maybe all of this is just brought on by the dreaded Quarter-Life Crisis (although, do crises last more than a year?) or something. And can I just say that the Quarter-Life Crisis sucks? We Quarter-Lifers have no money with which to buy sports cars or mansions or breast implants or whatever those Mid-Lifers are buying these days (I mean, really they should be frantically saving for retirement, am I right?) However, I have a feeling that it is more than likely something at least related to Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Seasonal Affective Disorder is, appropriately, known as SAD. Wikipedia says that "Symptoms of SAD may consist of difficulty waking up in the morning, morning sickness, tendency to oversleep and over eat, especially a craving for carbohydrates, which leads to weight gain. Other symptoms include a lack of energy, difficulty concentrating on completing tasks, and withdrawal from friends, family, and social activities. All of this leads to the depression, pessimistic feelings of hopelessness, and lack of pleasure which characterize a person suffering from this disorder." They forgot to include compulsion to cut one's hair, change one's wardrobe, and dive right in to writing the next Great American Novel.

Anyways, if you're currently suffering from this autumnal, ass-kicking SADness, I'm right there with you. Let's get through this together: By drinking coffee, ranting regularly, eating carbs, sleeping in, and writing a book. Ok, fine, jeez, we'll make this the Sesame Street version: By exercising, eating healthy foods, discussing our feelings in a calm, collected way, and by researching and outlining for our book before we start writing (that's the ticket!).

Here's to warm, sunny, summer days filled with FUN instead of SAD!