Lack of Blog

My apologies for the lack of blog this week. I ended up needing the week off. After a weekend chock full o' crazy family goodness (which, by Sunday, had me running for the hills. Very nearly literally.) and a week of cooking like a madwoman (Staying up till 3am. No time to see The Guy. Back to the grocery store for something I forgot like TEN times. You see, I semi-volunteered to cater an event for 130 people tonight. On my own. Yes, please - DO call the men in white coats.) - I had nothing in me left with which to write. I couldn't even muster up a quote or ANYTHING. I'm dreaful. Apologies all around.

Tonight I serve cold Artichoke Parmesan dip with Criostini and Spinach Empanadas and Lemon Almond Biscotti and antipasto to a large group of people who, knowing my dumb luck, are probably all allergic to nuts and hate marinated mushrooms and olives and will want to know where the french onion dip is for the veggies on the antipasto platter.

Maybe I'll save myself some trouble and provide a completely-out-of-place dip for the veggies.

So anyway, after the catering I get to spend my weekend with The Guy and Little Man; sleeping in, reading, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, assisting Little Man with the finer points of our favorite video game, visiting with some friends, making hot cocoa, maybe going to a local park for a walk - in other words, HEAVEN.

Next week I'll, you know, think and stuff like that. And then I'll get back to posting.

The Holidays

Christmas has always been a complex holiday for my family.

Mine is a blended family so there are a lot of people involved. There's the tug of war over where and when celebrations will occur. So many people you are-and-aren't related to you who cannot decide if they should send you a present (I always loved how one of my sisters' Grandparents - who is only her Grandparent and in no way blood related to the rest of us - would send her a big gift and send the rest of us kids a tacky generic coloring book every year. Even as a child, I knew this was a wildly miscalculated gesture and VERY funny.) The various step and half kids all looking at each other's piles of gifts and wondering if discrepancies were signs of anything. The kids who had another parent of lesser means going through culture shock when comparing the familiar low-income Christmas to the bountiful middle-class Christmas (that would be me).

It was a wierd time for us. Always. Even on good years. Throw in a birthday right on the cusp of the holiday and, well, it made for a wacky mess of a holiday.

Then there was Thanksgiving.

A holiday I could understand. I mean, not the Pilgrims and Indians thing because A) I'm essentially first generation American and our attachment to that aspect of the holiday was tenuous and B) it always seemed to me like the Indians should have saved themselves a lot of trouble in the long run and let the pilgrims starve. Hindsight, I suppose. But aside from the actual history of the holiday, I understood what it meant to US, to MY family. When you have a large blended family, gathering together makes sense. Taking the time to be thankful for each other, for each and every one of us, makes sense.

We have a lot of cooks in our family. And a large number of people to be fed. Thankgiving, no matter what assortment of people were gathering, has always been a circus:

People laughing and chattering and arguing over the best way to make stuffing (it's an issue). The smell of things cooking in the oven and of hot casseroles being brought in the door and of fresh nutmeg and cinnamon being warred over as the pumpkin pie was being made. My mother making sausage cheese balls so we all have something to snack on through the morning as we prepared the meal and set the table... and the other table... and maybe another table (just in case). Cries of dismay when the hardcore home cookin' mom and my cousin the professional caterer both arrive with their "famous" sweet potato casseroles. The Annual Debate over the greatness of Turkey versus the joys of variety (in which the possibility of ham, chicken, duck, goose or oodles of little cornish game hens being prepared the following year is considered. Turkey always wins). My brother gets mad about something and pouts. My little sister eats all the rolls. My older sister and I fight with pickle spears as our swords (yes, even now). My grandmother spends a lot of time trying to identify which grandchild comes from who. My parents get confused and call the kids by the dogs' names and vice-versa. My Aunt gets tired of my Uncle's endless jokes and shrieks his name in that voice that tells you she's going to drag him out by his ear if he doesn't stop soon. The radio is switched back and forth between oldies and christmas songs. My mom wants to watch the National Dog Show and hollers constantly that we, "...have to see this one. It's! OH! Come look at this one! That looks like so-and-so's dog. HURRY! YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE POMERANIAN. looklooklooklook!"

It's MADNESS. And this gathering is the epitome of what my family is. A crazy, loud, arguing, laughing, neurotic frenzy of people coming together to make something wonderful. We are all so different. We don't always get along. We don't always even like each other. But we all love each other. AND we love to cook and to eat.

On Thanksgiving, my family celebrates in a context I can understand and in a way that suits us. We come together and reaffirm that, although some of us share little or no blood connection, we are TRULY a family. Inextricably. In the most exasperating and wonderful of ways.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The family, the food, the fact that it's all about gathering and has nothing to do with presents. To me, Thanksgiving is about coming home or creating home. It's about finding the family in your life, whether or not they are related to you, and celebrating that. It's about needing people and creating for people. For me, when Thankgiving is at it's best, it is the most joyous of all times.

In light of my affection, I think the Thanksgiving movie category is much underappreciated, whilst Hollywood churns out crappy Christmas flicks ad nauseum. So I have made a list of my Top Five Thanksgiving film recommendations. Led, of course, by a film I mention FAR too often:

1. Home for the Holidays, 1995

"On the fourth Thursday in November, 84 million American families will gather together... And wonder why."
Everything goes wrong in Claudia Larsen's life on the day she is boarding a plane to return to her childhood home for Thanksgiving. The next 36 hours are spent coping with craziness, trying to understand her family and reevaluating her life. Features: Holly Hunter, Anne Bancroft, Charles Durning, Gerldine Chaplain. Robert Downey Jr., Dylan McDermott, David Strathairn

Because her family is crazy. And wonderful. And totally familiar to everyone no matter how close or distant your own family is. It is to dysfunctional families what Big Fat Greek Wedding is to huge families. Probably not child appropriate. Very funny. Very life affirming. Very oh-my-god-someone-gets-what-it's-like-to-deal-with-my-family. One of my favorite films of all time.

"Nobody means what they say on Thanksgiving, Mom. You know that. That's what the day's supposed to be all about, right? Torture." - Claudia Larsen (played by Holly Hunter)

2. Pieces of April, 2003

"She's the one in every family."
21-year-old April Burns (Katie Holmes) who lives with her boyfriend Bobby (Derek Luke) in a dilapidated tenement on New York City's Lower East Side. April has never been on good terms with her mother, Joy (Patricia Clarkson), but Bobby convinces her to host her family for Thanksgiving. Features: Katie Holmes, Derek Luke, Oliver Platt, Patricia Clarkson, Alice Drummond, Lillias White, Isiah Whitock, Jr., Sean Hayes. Patricia Clarkson was nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her role as April's mother.

Because sometimes family sucks. Sometimes the people who come through for you are not who you would expect. And that's wonderful. And human. And SO what Thanksgiving is all about as far as I'm concerned. Not child appropriate. Ultimately very positive and life affirming, but takes it's time getting there.

April Burns: "I'm the first pancake."
Evette: "What do you mean?"
Eugene: "She's the one you're supposed to throw out."

"Once, there was this day... this one day when... everyone realized they needed each other." - April Burns (played by Katie Holmes)

3. The House of Yes, 1997

"Enter at your own risk."
The movie is based on the play of the same name, which is written by Wendy MacLeod. Set on Thanksgiving Day 1983, the film involves NYC student Marty Pascal (Josh Hamilton)'s return to his family's suburban Washington D.C. mansion to introduce his fiancée, Lesly (Tori Spelling), to the family—including his mother (Geneviève Bujold), brother Anthony (Freddie Prinze, Jr.), and twin sister Jacqueline (Parker Posey), who prefers to be known as "Jackie-O", due to her obsession with the former first lady. The holiday begins a rapid downward spiral from the moment Jackie-O learns her brother is engaged.

Because nothing says "neurotic holiday" like Parker Posey doing the slo-mo beauty queen Jackie-O wave to an imaginary crowd from her living room couch. Not for the faint of heart. Not appropriate for kids... or most grandparents... or, well, A LOT of people. Not a happy movie, but brilliantly, bitingly funny.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go baste the turkey and hide the kitchen knives." - Mrs. Pascal (played by Geneviève Bujold)

4. Addams Family Values, 1993

A comic Gothic horror-type family tries to rescue their beloved uncle from his gold-digging new love. Featuring: Anjelica Huston, Raul Julia, Christopher Lloyd, Joan Cusack, Christina Ricci, Carol Kane, Peter MacNicol, Christine Baranski, Nathan Lane, and (everyone's favorite bubble-brain vampire in a far more wholesome role) Mercedes McNab

Because my all-time favorite on film Thanksgiving moment is Wednesday Addams chastising the yuppies for the plight of the Native Americans. Not a Thanksgiving film but has that great Thanksgiving scene. Essentially positive... appropriate for children old enough not to misinterpret the humor.

"We cannot break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs." - Wednesday Addams (Christina Ricci, in the role she was born to play)

5. A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, 1973

Peppermint Patty invites herself and her friends over to Charlie Brown's for Thanksgiving, and with Linus, Snoopy, and Woodstock, he attempts to throw together a Thanksgiving dinner.

Because it's the classic I've watched since I was a child. Perfect for all ages!

Charlie Brown: "I can't cook a Thanksgiving dinner. All I can make is cold cereal and maybe toast."
Linus van Pelt: "That's right. I've seen you make toast."


What other holiday presents you with such an array of wacky options?

On the Big Day, my sister and I are also going to watch Clue. 'Cause it is also about people who are connected to each other coming together for a big meal... just under slightly different circumstances. And, anyway, Tim Curry rocks. And so does Madeline Kahn.

I LOVE Thanksgiving.

Sometimes

... when I'm angry about something and I rant and rave about it... later I look back on my anger and cannot help but picture myself as Max in Where the Wild Things Are. I can see myself stomping and roaring and waving my arms and growling unintelligibly. In footy pajamas. Even when my anger is all justifiable and such. In the back of my head, there's Max.

We're In This Together

Today I received an email from my Aunt. It was one of those standard issue emails that goes on about sisterhood and valuing the women in your life. It was sweet and well-intentioned and, while I may have seen those emails a bazillion times, I was pleased that she thought of me.

Someone on her list responded first to my Aunt, and then apparently thought about it and and decided to send her response back to everyone on the list.

She wrote an enormous paragraph about how, in the 60’s, she bought into the idea of sisterhood and then she learned that she couldn’t depend on other women. She railed against feminism and ranted about how she had been let down by her fellow females. She went on. And on. And on. Bitterness, vitriol and verbal bile just spewing forth. First at my good natured Aunt and then at everyone else who had the misfortune to be on that list.

Now, it’s a shame this woman doesn’t have positive female relationships in her life. But her rant was about women on the whole letting her down. Like she expected complete strangers to help her because of their shared sex - without any evidence that she has treated other women in this fashion. Sometimes women who do not know each other offer each other support, that DOES happen. But that’s NOT what my Aunt’s email was about.

Sometimes we forget the value of the positive and close relationships we have with other women. We get wrapped up in dealing with husbands or boyfriends (who are in some cases wonderful partners and some cases horrible mistakes), with co-workers, with difficult family members, with people who do not support us or whose relationship with us is transitory. But if you are lucky enough to have a close relationship with even one female relative or a lifelong girlfriend who you can depend on - then that is a treasure. And it is important to stop and look at that and value it and remember not to take it for granted.

And while we're on the subject - I am SO SICK of hearing women say, “I really don’t like women. I don't meet women I like being around.” If that is the case, then you are not looking hard enough. We often fall into the trap of feeling as if we are simply competitors. There are only so many jobs that are going to go to women, only so many men to go around, only one woman can be the prettiest woman in the room - and yes, some women get wrapped up in that too much.

You cannot depend on strangers to support you, male or female. But you CAN form relationships with members of your own sex. WAKE UP! If you feel like “other women aren’t like me” then you haven’t been paying attention! We are as widely varied as can be. More so than men on the whole, because we get less flak for embracing both our feminine and masculine inclinations than men do. (Yes, people give a masculine woman a hard time and there are certainly cases of violence against transsexual men - men who were born with the bodies of women - and I do not wish to belittle that in any way. It is very serious. I am just saying that if you ask any transsexual woman to talk to you about her experiences you will learn a lot about the greater level of freedom that society affords people who are born with female “parts” to explore their options.)

I hate the word tomboy. I am sick of the word tomboy. Women use this word to say, “Look, I am more like men than women. I am proud to show how much closer I am to them than I am to you.” Oh, bite me. Do you have any idea how many women say they were a tomboy? Straight women, lesbians, skirt wearers, jeans women, tough women, soft women - it makes no difference. Like 90% say they were a tomboy. Which is to say that as a child you identified easily with boys, you liked to run around outside, maybe you fished for tadpoles or thought bugs were neat. Some boys played with dolls and pretended to clean house and explored play in nurturing roles. It’s part of being a child. It’s not a male or female thing. It’s a human thing. It doesn’t make you different. Get over it.

I play video games. I love science fiction movies. I am not afraid of spiders. I like to climb trees. I am not alone in this and I am not a tomboy. I am a woman. Plain and simple.

There was a time in my life when I said that I could not connect with women - that I was male centric. I took pride in this as thought it made me interesting and different. I thought all other women were stupid and “girly” or - excuse the word - evil, competitive bitches. Then I realized that a lot of women think this. It’s like this moronic rite of passage that huge numbers of us reject our femininity and connection to other members of our sex because we don’t realize that part of us can live side by side with our more traditionally masculine attributes and interests. Women backstab each other sometimes. Guess what? So do men. I feel sorry for any woman who does not realize the value of her relationships with other women and I feel sorry for women as a group that we have one less woman who wants that closeness to us.

In a perfect world, women would all be supportive of each other. Big shocker - we don’t live in a perfect world. But try going out your front door in the morning and looking at other women - women of other races than your own, women who are straight and gay, transsexual women, old women, young girls, women of different socio-economic circumstances - and interact with them while realizing that we have a common thread. Try looking at them as fellow members of a long line of women instead of competition. They understand things about you that no man ever will. There is a connection between women, even women who are strangers. Not all of us stop to feel it or are willing to feel it but, like it or not, it’s there. A common history of repression, of having once been considered property instead of peers. A common debt to the women and men who fought for us to have the right to work, to own property, to have a say in our government... to have any say at all. A common history of victimization and violence but also a common history of strength, of persistence, of shared knowledge, a common history of being nurturers and creators. You cannot depend on all women embracing this but you CAN make an effort to be aware of it yourself.

There’s a lot of good there. There is value in these connections. It's not about a movement or an issue or making a stand, it's your birthright. It's part of who we are and has the potential to enrich our lives. I am SICK TO DEATH of watching women refuse to see this.

My Aunt sent out a friendly reminder to the women in her life that she is there, that she values them, that we are connected. How pitiful that one of those women was too bitter to see it for what it was - a gift.

And now I'm going to go punch a wall.

Shelley Winters

Life Magazine, 1949

“I think on-stage nudity is disgusting, shameful and damaging to all things American. But if I were 22 with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic and a progressive religious experience.”

- Shelley Winters

The two-time Academy Award winning actress was a fair bit larger in her later years but had an excellent sense of humor about her physique.

Right Now

I am in my office on my day off because I needed to get a few things done. All the lights are off in the building because I am the only one here so it is not noticeable that anyone is in. Our building is a single story with a reasonably sized parking lot just outside my window and a healthy speckling of mature trees all over the grounds.

Right Now, as I type, there is a scrawny slip of a teenage boy in our parking lot. He has black hair that is cropped close on the sides and back and little longer on top. He's wearing a dark hoodie and skinny indie-boy blue jeans and had been standing just outside my window on his cell phone for 10 minutes now. The parking lot is covered in acorns and he is stepping on them and doing this sort of goofy unconcious dance as he squooshes acorns under his chunky sneakers. He swivels his hips as he twists to pop another acorn and then hops a bit to the next large gathering of them on the ground. It looks like someone doing the Twist in slow motion who has never actually seen the Twist and is reading instructions from a book.

Now he's hung up the phone... but the acorns, they call to him. They make a really satisfying crackle under your feet. I've noticed this whenever I walk to my car across the lot. And there are SO MANY of them left. I don't know if he is waiting for someone of if he is passing time by parking in our lot because he is in a fight with a parents or meeting a girlfriend nearby after a bit, but right now he is still doing this wonky dance right outside my window. Clearly, he has no idea he is being watched.

It's such a strange sensation to watch someone when they think they are alone. They will do things and move in an unselfconcious way that you almost never get to see otherwise. This pale little scene-boy probably affects a certain personality in front of his peers, in front of his parents, in front of other people. But right now he is not a cool 17 year old. Right now he is a kid popping acorns in front of my window with a simple, childlike joy.

Hop-twist, hop hop, twist and shift. A little content smile on his face while he concentrates on the acorns and their cheerful little pops.

Keywords

I always find it fascinating when my favorite bloggers share some of the unusual keyword searches that have led people to their internetz "door."

Mine are usually pretty obvious connections. As soon as I see the keywords, I know what post brought them here. The most consistent are female world leaders and Vanity Fair Proust questionnaire. Others can be more unusual, while I am still clear as to how someone was led here by them; Proust state of mind, hit man for the burger king ad (hello? there's a hit man in a Burger King ad? where? when?), graphic pap smear, when you have lost it all, movie quote he must practice on melons or something, sashweight murder, the names of many artists I have posted about on here and, hilariously, stanley tucci haircut.

The one I am really really super confused and disturbed by, however, is position yourself to see women peeing.

I have never written about pee. I am completely flummoxed as to A) why that search brought someone to me and B) ohmydearlord why is someone searching THAT string of words? Is it a search for advice or tips on this activity? Were they hoping for photos? WHAT?

Of course, now anyone who searches that string of words is comin' straight to my door.

And I say to them: BAAAAAAD interweb user! Don't bother poor women who are trying to relieve themselves in peace! And don't come here again!

Icky icky yuck yuck ew!

Some really strange stuff happens on the web.

I See Here That You Don't Have Any Children

A while ago I injured my lower back. I spent a week on my couch propping up various limbs with pillows, trying in vain to find ANY position that wasn’t excrutiatingly painful and waiting in doctor’s offices in hopes of a solution, a miracle or maybe even just a good night’s sleep in the near future. I went through the same questions again and again. I don't remember injuring my back. I haven't done any heavy lifting. My chair at work IS ergonomic. I don't just sit, I stand up and walk around the office periodically. I have NO IDEA what is wrong with me. My regular physician told me to try different sleeping positions. Seriously. Like “Oh, you wake up crying at 3am because you are in so much pain that you want someone to sever your spine and get it over with? Hmmm. Trying sleeping on your other side.”

Finally, in desperation, I met with a doctor at the local emergency clinic - after another sleepless night and waking to find I needed to walk in a funky hunched position like the hermit crab lady in the Labyrinth. He poked and prodded at my spine, had me lie down on the table and pulled and twisted my feet and finally announced that it was nothing serious. I had a lower back injury that - he said in a puzzled tone - is, "...actually most common in mothers. But I see here that you don't have children."

BINGO.

The moral of the story? Just because a 7 year old is adorable and lays his head on your shoulder like the sweetest, most angelic creature ever to walk the earth DOES NOT mean you should keep picking him up every time you hug him.

I am learning a lot of things these days that no one ever mentioned to me about being around children. My back is much improved.

Crazy People Make Everything Better

I am a designer and the company I work for is essentially a printer. We do a lot of things, make a lot of things, print a lot of things. On a daily basis, I not only talk to standard issue end-user type customers but also vendors and brokers and companies that rely on us to produce the items they will then resell.

The representative for one such company has to call my office on a fairly regular basis and is clearly determined not to let the office doldrums get to her. We'll call her Sue.

My phone rings. A wobbly little old lady voice on the other end wants to know if we print on flexible materials like rubber or plastic. Ever mindful of providing good customer service, I start to ask specifics, trying to figure out if I have a vendor who could help this sweet little old lady. She finally sighs and says, in this trembly little voice, "Well, I GUESS it would be printing on latex. We want to have novelty condoms made. Can you do that?"

It's Sue.

She has been an angry male customer fussing about an obscene misspelling on "his" business card. She has used thick exaggerated country accents and absurdly poor French accents. She has started to place false orders on several occasions before I realized it was her. She has sung limericks to me. She has refused to discuss business until I go along with her new knock-knock joke. She has simply started to moo when she hears it's me picking up the phone.

Today I answered the phone and just heard chewing.

"Hi, Sue. What can I do for you?"

This always gives her a giggle. When I know it's her.

It might sound irritating or insane but I thank my lucky stars for Sue. She doesn't take anything too seriously. She doesn't have a fit about deadlines because she doesn't see the sense in acting like that (reasoning that yelling doesn't actually make anything happen faster). And she never uses the same joke twice. They aren't all brilliant, but she always thinks of something I haven't heard before.

My favorite customer is this 40-ish, no-frills, tough broad, mother of two smacking gum on the other end of my phone line. In her own way, she's more sane than anyone else who calls me all day.

Dorothy Thompson

“Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow.”

- Dorothy Thompson

I Can't Do This

Do you know what I mean?

That feeling?

That There-Is-Just-Too-Much-I-Can't-Handle-It feeling?

I think that we are all supposed to be born with or taught certain coping mechanisms, and that a few of mine must have been left out. Because everyone else seems to be able to manage just fine. 90% of the time I truck along and I manage. And then there are days like today.

When I do all the math and see that I am just managing to pay my bills BY THE SKIN OF MY TEETH. When I make a mental list of what I have to get done tonight before I sleep and see that there is a 6 hour discrepancy between the amount of time I HAVE and the amount of time I NEED. When my ex's bill collectors call me for the 20th time regarding the loan he is defaulting on that I foolishly co-signed with him because I was temporarily BRAIN DEAD four years ago. When loved ones in my family are having problems that I am not at liberty to discuss but that are causing me great worry. When I find out I am NOT getting my far overdue and very richly deserved raise because business is down and the company lost a lot of money last month. When I try to remember who I haven't returned calls and emails to and finally register that almost everyone I know is on that list. And most of all, most amazingly and spectacularly horrific of all - when I realize that I stood up a close friend for lunch today.

Simply. Didn't. Show. Up.

I have never done that to anyone in my entire life. Not once. It is not a sign that this person is not important to me. He absolutely is tremendously important (and just so you know my concern is genuine - he doesn't know about or read my blog and will not be a witness to this self-flagellation) and I am just so overwhelmed with stress and crises and the recent changes in my life that I simply did not register that I had any plans for lunch today.

On days like today, I just worry that I am somehow missing some ability that everyone else in the world has. Because everyone I see driving down the road and shopping in the grocery store and walking into my office seems to be alright. They walk around all calm and collected as if THEIR bills are paid and THEIR house is clean and THEY have returned all their messages. What is the secret? How is it that no one ever seems to look like I am at-this-very-moment feeling?

Ironically, people often tell me how together I am. How I seem to have things figured out. And the truth is that I am faking it. Faking it well sometimes, but still doing what I feel is essentially faking it.

I often feel less calm than I look. And the matching accessories? Yeah, they're a struggle. My house isn't always clean, it's just usually clean if someone other than ME is going to be IN it. Talking about finances and haggling over the bill is poor form so, no - I don't usually mention how hard it's been to get my finances in order since the ex flew the coop. I always happily pony up an even split on the bill at dinner with a healthy tip because that is what one does. One does not undertip the server who is also trying to make ends meet. Lately one ALSO does not go out to eat often... but, hey, them's the breaks...

So now I am making plans with some of my neglected friends. I just told my boss in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS how difficult it is going to be to go without a raise for much longer. I am on my way home to clean everything inside my house within an inch of it's life. Even the bunnies are getting a bath. They're going to hate it. The place is going to shine like the top of the freaking Chrystler building.

And my brilliant, wonderful, angelic stood-up friend called. To say not to worry. That he's glad other people forget things like this because he does it all the time. That he isn't angry at all. That he can't understand what I'm saying because I have weepy voice. That I really should stop crying because it's not such a big deal and he's fine, really he is.

I feel a little better. Later I will feel much better. I will get back to the business of acting like this is easy until someday, perhaps it magically does become easy. Or easier. Because I'm not so foolish as to think I will one day wake up with the magic ability to locate the earrings that match my dress without a little digging. Or that someday housework will get simpler and more fun. Or that I'm going to win the lottery anytime soon (paticularly because I don't play).

Alright. I can do this now.

For a minute there I couldn't. But now I think I can.

I may play a videogame for half an hour before I start cleaning, though.
Just for spite.

Edit: I really am fine. Like I said here, the past year has been a crazy journey but life is really much better now. I have less money but more friends, a much more complicated life but someone wonderful to share it with. I still have those days, though. I suspect it has something to do with my being human and all.