Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Nursing School

01 Oct

Wow, Nursing School really does take up a lot of time. I’m swamped and have been away so long that I actually forgot the URL to log in and update this blog. I had plans. Big plans. And I was waiting to get them sorted out before I posted more… but… alas.

I’m about 1/2 way through and I’m learning a lot. It’s fun and exciting and totally exhausting. I’m trying to get back into knitting, as well, just so I have something to do that isn’t related to hospitals and sick people. Though I do find myself thinking I should knit something for the babies at the hospital. I can’t get away from it. I suppose that’s a good thing that I like it so much I think about it all the time. :-)

I’m thinking I need less stuff in general, especially now that I live in a house where I can spread it all out and see it all. Culling of the Stuff is a recurring theme in my life, but somehow I never get enough out of the way. I think I need a plan this time. I have a short break coming up in a month, maybe I’ll dedicate a couple days to thinning the stuff.


Adventures in Depression

27 Oct

This is a dead on description of depression. It’s so strange sometimes. Adventures in Depression

Some people have a legitimate reason to feel depressed, but not me. I just woke up one day feeling sad and helpless for absolutely no reason.

It’s disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulgent when you have a way to justify it – you can listen to sad music and imagine yourself as the protagonist in a dramatic movie. You can gaze out the window while you’re crying and think “This is so sad. I can’t even believe how sad this whole situation is. I bet even a reenactment of my sadness could bring an entire theater audience to tears.”

But my sadness didn’t have a purpose.  Listening to sad music and imagining that my life was a movie just made me feel kind of weird because I couldn’t really get behind the idea of a movie where the character is sad for no reason.

Essentially, I was being robbed of my right to feel self pity, which is the only redeeming part of sadness.

And for a little bit, that was a good enough reason to pity myself.

Standing around feeling sorry for myself was momentarily exhilarating, but I grew tired of it quickly. “That will do,” I thought. “I’ve had my fun, let’s move on to something else now.” But the sadness didn’t go away.

I tried to force myself to not be sad.

But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back.  A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn’t going to work. 

When I couldn’t will myself to not be sad, I became frustrated and angry. In a final, desperate attempt to regain power over myself, I turned to shame as a sort of motivational tool.


But, since I was depressed, this tactic was less inspirational and more just a way to oppress myself with hatred.

Which made me more sad. 

Which then made me more frustrated and abusive.

And that made me even more sad, and so on and so forth until the only way to adequately express my sadness was to crawl very slowly across the floor.

The self-loathing and shame had ceased to be even slightly productive, but it was too late to go back at that point, so I just kept going. I followed myself around like a bully, narrating my thoughts and actions with a constant stream of abuse.

I spent months shut in my house, surfing the internet on top of a pile of my own dirty laundry which I set on the couch for “just a second” because I experienced a sudden moment of apathy on my way to the washer and couldn’t continue. And then, two weeks later, I still hadn’t completed that journey. But who cares – it wasn’t like I had been showering regularly and sitting on a pile of clothes isn’t necessarily uncomfortable. But even if it was, I couldn’t feel anything through the self hatred anyway, so it didn’t matter. JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE.

Slowly, my feelings started to shrivel up. The few that managed to survive the constant beatings staggered around like wounded baby deer, just biding their time until they could die and join all the other carcasses strewn across the wasteland of my soul.

I couldn’t even muster up the enthusiasm to hate myself anymore.

I just drifted around, completely unsure of what I was feeling or whether I could actually feel anything at all.

If my life was a movie, the turning point of my depression would have been inspirational and meaningful. It would have involved wisdom-filled epiphanies about discovering my true self and I would conquer my demons and go on to live out the rest of my life in happiness.

Instead, my turning point mostly hinged upon the fact that I had rented some movies and then I didn’t return them for too long.

The late fees had reached the point where the injustice of paying any more than I already owed outweighed my apathy. I considered just keeping the movies and never going to the video store again, but then I remembered that I still wanted to re-watch Jumanji.

I put on some clothes, put the movies in my backpack and biked to the video store. It was the slowest, most resentful bike ride ever.

And when I arrived, I found out that they didn’t even have Jumanji in.

Just as I was debating whether I should settle on a movie that wasn’t Jumanji or go home and stare in abject silence, I noticed a woman looking at me weirdly from a couple rows over.

She was probably looking at me that way because I looked really, really depressed and I was dressed like an eskimo vagrant.

Normally, I would have felt an instant, crushing sense of self-consciousness, but instead, I felt nothing.

I’ve always wanted to not give a fuck. While crying helplessly into my pillow for no good reason, I would often fantasize that maybe someday I could be one of those stoic badasses whose emotions are mostly comprised of rock music and not being afraid of things. And finally – finally – after a lifetime of feelings and anxiety and more feelings, I didn’t have any feelings left. I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn’t rent Jumanji.

I felt invincible.

And thus began a tiny rebellion.

Then I swooped out of there like the Batman and biked home in a blaze of defiant glory.

And that’s how my depression got so horrible that it actually broke through to the other side and became a sort of fear-proof exoskeleton.

from Hyperbole and a Half


Mostly Settled

19 Sep

I’m mostly settled in my new place in Ohio. I like it, but I find myself homesick at strange times. I woke up this weekend thinking I should see if I could hang out with MamaPajama this weekend, then realized that was pretty unlikely to happen. The house still feels empty, but I think that’s the wall colour. Even with art on the walls, they look bare. I wasn’t really thinking of painting the WHOLE house, so hopefully I’ll just get used to it.

School is going along nicely. The BioEthics class has been really interesting and I wish we had more time to talk about things. Since it’s a half semester class we end up having quick discussions on each topic.

The other class is a Sociology class about multiculturalism. The students are a mix between regular 4yr college students and those of us in the accelerated program. There a couple of the younger students who say things that make us return students raise our eyebrows.

I’m surprised by how so many people still can’t talk about sex. even students in the nursing program who was describing artificial insemination got all flustered and blushed. We all took Anatomy already, you can say “cervix” and “uterus” without making a big deal about it! I just hope she doesn’t intend to go into ob/gyn or L&D.

Galahad is enjoying the house and the sliding glass door with the big view of the backyard. We saw a rabbit out there one night.

And this past week I tried cooking in my oven for the first time. Whoah! First, one of the two oven racks is actually fuzzy with gunk. I put it on the back porch till I find something to scrub it with — like a brillo pad. Second, the racks were both in backward.

Moving into a new place is always an adventure. At least we got the stove sorted out. It used to tick at random times, but frequently, and the strikers didn’t work on the front two burners.

Mom is coming into town this week for work, but only for one night. So tonight we’re going shopping for new jeans and new slacks, cause I gained weight and gave away all the trousers that were too small for me so now about 90% of my wardrobe is tops. I can’t volunteer at the hospital Mom just built, which is very near here, wearing jeans so I really need to fill in that part of the closet.

Also, Happy Birthday to Mr. Marsh and to my brother E!


boxes boxes boxes

11 Aug

I’m living in a maze of boxes, and today I went to my storage unit to start pulling stuff out of there so the moving truck only has to make one stop. You never realize how much stuff you have until you look at it all stacked in boxes in your living room. And I feel like there’s so much more to go!

Moving across the country is so strange. How do I clean the house after my vacuum and brooms are packed on the truck? How do I clean the new place before my vacuum and broom get there?

I found a box full of cords in my storage unit, too. Just all sorts of cords, some power cords, some A/V cords, some who knows what. Obviously I don’t need them for anything, but how do I get rid of them? Charity shop? Trash?
I spent a couple hours in storage today making sections for Take to Ohio, Charity Shop, and Trash. I have a couple Burning Man useful things that I’m not 100% sure what to do with. Maybe I’ll take them over to some of my camp mates to see if they’re need in camp this year. It would be one less box I have to fit in my living room.


Regular Retail Therapy Prolongs Life

07 Apr

no kidding, that’s the title of the article i just read. blah, blah, blah, confounds. i’m going shopping more often from now on and i’m not going to feel guilty because it’s GOOD for me! i’m extending my life over here.


Regular retail therapy prolongs life

A spot of regular retail therapy really does seem to help people live longer, suggests research published online in the Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health.


i got a D in valentine’s day

15 Feb

so, friday i realized that i had two days till valentine’s day. two days that i would be out of town and with mr. marsh the whole time! ooops!

he had mentioned a place he knew where they might have a wallet he liked, and i offered to buy it for him as his valentine’s day gift. the wallet was on sale for just over $10! i know it’s the thought that counts, but i wanted to spend more than 10 bucks on the guy.

so i figured i’d bake him a cake or some brownies monday while he was at work. however, we had friends over sunday night and they brought desserts… plural. scratch making more sweets.

monday night we had a nice dinner of pasta and sauce (from tomatoes i canned earlier this year) and he gave me my gifts. a hand made card, a really fun fortune teller/cootie catcher, some great candy, an owl with a rat tape measure that i LOVE, and a bottle of my favourite perfume! holy cows!

i think i got a D, but he sure got an A+!



02 Dec

i just found out about this project by reverb10 where you post each day of december based on a prompt they choose.

i’m going to combine prompt 1 and 2 into today to catch up.

Dec 1 (belated): one word.

my word for 2010 would have to be “change”. i  have changed so much in my life this year. i went back to school. i met my obviously meant to be long term partner (we like to joke that even though we met 7.5 months ago, we’ve been married 8 years). i started pushing myself creatively. and i’m preparing to move, if need be, for school.

my word for 2011 will hopefully be … settle. i really like change and i’m don’t imagine i’ll ever really be without a good deal of it, but it would be nice for some certain things to be more on the certain side. where will we live? will we be we, for sure? how will we manage all the different needs of all the different cats? i want to feel like my life has a stronger base, or rather a wider base.

Dec 2: writing.

one thing i do each day that does not, in any way, contribute to my writing is dawdle, putz, zone out, etc. there are times when i mindless half hour in front of the TV is actually the fastest way to unwind, but i shouldn’t get lost on facebook and making my amazon wishlist and watching daytime medical interview shows. if i’m going to watch TV or movies or “waste time” i could make it something well written and somehow intellectually interesting. or i could spend some time zoning out while scanning figures from my textbooks to help me study. flip, scan, save… flip, scan, save… flip, scan, save — it doesn’t always take a lot of concentration.


Still there!

01 Dec

the other day i put out a letter to be sent. normally, our postal dude picks these up and takes them away — no problem.

but when i got home at 6pm that evening, my envelope was still sitting out where i’d tucked it. we don’t have an outgoing post spot, so this is just how people have been indicating items which need to be taken.

i thought maybe the post just didn’t come that day, but there was stuff in my postbox. so… maybe we got a new carrier, a sub? i felt bad cause it was something i’d said i’d dropped in the post that day… i didn’t want the postee to think i was lying about that.

so, i dropped her a note online about the mix up then carried it with me to a public post box on the way to classes the next day. now i’m not sure if i can trust my post will be picked up at home anymore! maybe i’ll test it out with a letter to someone who isn’t expecting one, so they won’t know if it’s “late”.

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slight problem…

29 Nov

so, i got the website over with only the most minor of glitches. and installing wp was a cinch. however, apparently my old blog is too big to import.

so, i guess i’ll just go from…. crap, i can’t say it.

i’ll just start again. 😉



28 Nov

i’ve been spending my non-study time making these little Artist Trading Cards. if you’ve never heard of them, they’re 2.5 in x 3.5 in cardstock or stiff fabric or whatnot which have been artified. ok, i know that’s not a word, but they could be hand drawn, sewn, stamped, collaged, digitally drawn or collaged, or whatever you can think of. then, they’re given away with your name and contact info and the title of the piece on the back. specifically, they are not to be sold, they are to be traded.

lots of places on the web organize swaps for these little suckers including swap-bot, my personal time suck. since they’re small they’ve really let me feel like i can take a lot of chances that i wouldn’t normally take. i’ve signed up for a few “hand-drawn” swaps (and only cheated a little on one) whereas normally i wouldn’t hand-draw anything if i could avoid it. i’m more the elephant in the snake sort of artist when it comes to hand-drawing.

also, i’ve gotten to play around with backgrounds and textures and collage and paint… it’s really a lot of fun and i can see ahead of me, far in the distance but still visible, the point where i break out of my 2.5 in x 3.5 in playpen.

in the meantime, here’s some of my work:

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