Still sickly, bla, bla, bla, no big deal, I know, nothing compared to my many friends here who are hearing and sight impaired, or who do not have the use of their limbs. I know I always say this, but I think it's important to put any of my need to whine or kvetch in the context of my constant awareness and deep understanding of how lucky and blessed I have always been, and how much worse things could always be. I have my Mother with me at eighty-nine or ninety years of age, my beloved teenage son who thankfully is not doing drugs and is doing well in school, and my wonderful boyfriend. I have good friends, a lovely home, a garden, and the best animals in all the world. So it's all good and this is where I always start from : )
That said...been feeling pretty rotten, and I can't seem to get anything done more than one errand per day at the most, and that's if I can get out of the house, get out of bed. Mostly I try to do a few things, end up getting weak and sweaty after doing just one thing, and then I end up having to come home where I lay down and feel guilty and worry about gaining weight.
I get so tired of writing about this, and worry you'll tire of reading about this; year after year, usually around the same time of year, whining about my immune system and my health. It's boring, bleh. Anyway I was finally able to get in to see my doctor today. She tried to be upbeat and positive about all of my swollen lymph nodes but I'm way too sensitive to be fooled by jokes and smiles, especially when the person doing the joking is usual a wee bit stiff and formal. Plus I was raised by a nervous worrying Mother who passed it on to me so when I hear, "Let's just get a chest x-ray to rule out anything...well, let's just get a chest x-ray," I hear, "Cancer! Cancer! Cancer!" And then of course when I told my Mom that Jane, (my doctor), wanted me to have a chest x-ray she said, and I swear this is a quote, "Oh God what if it's Cancer? If it's lymphoma you could live seven or eight years with that, your Uncle Doug did." Sigh. Really, I think I just have some kind of virus or something.
My doctor also drew blood to check "a few things." I'm assuming she's going to look at my white blood cells and check to see if I have mono since she mentioned this as a possible culprit. She also wanted me to get an AIDS test, but I had one a few years ago and haven't slept with anyone other than Scott since then, and I don't drink blood or shoot up so that doesn't seem like a likely candidate, although I was married to a serious womanizing cheat but we haven't been together in a billion years. How long can AIDS remain dormant in a person? Ya see how nuts I'm going over this, what a baby I am, sheesh. Okay, I'll stop. I'll just have to sit with this until I get the x-rays next week and the blood test results will be back by then as well. Weee...
Oh, and while I was at the doctor's office today I couldn't help (yeah, like I wasn't trying to listen in, I'll listen in to anyone, I love conversations), overhearing her complaining to her nurse about how overwhelmingly busy she's been. They were talking about how many of their patients were calling in, worried about the bird flu. I made a note not to ask her about it.
Anyway, now that I know I have something legitimately going on with me, health wise, I feel a little bit better about having been so run down and unable to get anything done. I miss going out. I haven't seen a movie in ages and there's so much to do around here...
Here's a detail I can't believe I'm going to tell you. I've been picking at my scalp. It's like nail biting. I can't seem to make myself stop. I'll be bored or worrying over something and find myself picking at whatever little sore on my head is desperately trying to heal over before I scratch it off again. Then I put alcohol on it and think about what that's doing to my cheap blonde dye job. I had just promised myself that I wouldn't touch my hair unless it was with a brush when Esther came in and started complaining about Ana again and before I knew it, there were my hands in my hair scratching away at my scalp. Oh you're loving me now aren't you?
Funny thing though, I mentioned this to my Mother the other night and she told me that she used to do the same thing when she was young, during the year that my Grandparents sent her away to convent -- Ramona Convent. Poor Mom, she must have been upset about something.
I'll do some net-research on this and see what I come up with. I'm sure it's anxiety and stress related. I've been worrying a lot about money, my Mom and her people, my health, my cats, Esther and Ana and the fact that they just don't get along, this house that sometimes seems so big and beyond my managing. The only things I really haven't been worrying too much about lately are Scott and Beau. Cool hunh? A dear friend and therapist once said to me, (and I've written about this here before), that part of my problem is that I'm intelligent and am all too aware of where I'm failing and how much more I am capable of -- that the gradient between where I am and where I want to be is just too steep for me and it drives me crazy, literally.
I wonder if other people come up with as many ideas and projects and things they want to do, but that they never seem to get done, like I do. It's so frustrating, and it gets really bad when I spot trends way before they take off, think of something I could design make and sell, but never do it, and then end up seeing it all over the place six months to a year later. Argh.
Here are the two dresses I didn't dare tell anyone that I was bidding on, on eBay, because as we all know it's an "All's fair in love and war," kind of thing, and tipping people off to a dress I want isn't the wisest move when I'm trying so hard to keep the costs down. I set my proxy bids suuuuper low so if anyone else had wanted these, I would have lost, and I really wanted them because the black velvet, in as poor condition as it is, is an early example of my Granny's work. The second dress I liked just because it's anything other than the many black illusion lace dresses that I have so many of.
Jean Carol Black Velvet Dress
I feel bad for the dealer because I know if I were in her place I would have wanted to get as much as possible for this, and with the coat you'd have thought it would go for more, but there isn't much of a market for the Jean Carol dresses, and I think real serious vintage collectors knew this wasn't as old as she had thought it was. Thank God for honest sellers. I am having to be so much more discreet in my bidding these days.
Turquoise Silk Peggy Hunt Dress
I really like this one although it has damage as well. If you look at the bidding in history you'll see this one bidder lerndg who drove the price up by only about ten dollars before the end. She always bids on my Mom's and Grandmother's dresses and drives me insane. I know I'm being petty and unfair but I swear if I weren't a nicer person, I'd go check out her bids and drive all of them up for a change.
Black Lace Floral Peggy Hunt Dress
And here's one I didn't bid on because I was too worried about the cost. I thought it would go higher, so now I'm a little sorry I didn't bid, but also relieved because it's one less thing I have to pay for.
I have a weird actressy Mom-ish crush on Dakota Fanning so if I can get myself feeling well enough to go anywhere this weekend I'd really like to get out to see her new movie, but I've been promising my ocean-loving, scuba-starved soul that I would see Into the Blue for a couple of weeks now. Every single time Scott and I have made plans to see it, (and don't worry I know it'll probably be crappy, except for the fact that it was directed by the same director who made Blue Crush, I'm just going to see it to get an ocean/scuba fix), we end up having a meal, and then turning right around and coming back here again because I'm too weak to go out to a movie as well.
On top of everything else, I've caught a cold bug thing, and Ana just came down with it today as well, but she makes a huge deal out of everything, seriously. She's the gal who cried wolf-health-issues, worse than me, this is for sure, so it's hard for me to get anyone around here to feel any kind of empathy for her, poor thing. Ana, sigh, what the hell am I gonna do about Ana? Beau and Esther were upset with her because she's only done the laundry once since we came back from Burning Man -- she just lets it pile up for Esther -- and Beau called her on it today. She got really upset and came to tell me and she just really didn't make any sense. It sounded a little like this, "Beau said I haven't done any laundry since September. I did do laundry in September, and one time I did something else, and today I washed some things he told me to wash. I don't know why he is accusing me of this."
God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference...please?
You should see how sweet and wonderful the cats are being right now. People who don't love cats...I just don't get them. I think they're just blocked in some way and need me to help them get it. I have this theory that people who are afraid of cats or just don't like them, are people who have either had some childhood trauma, ignorant parents, or have never had their own kitty. Sometimes it takes having had your own cat to get how truly, deeply, wonderfully cool they are. Yep.
Okay, well, that's about it for me. And I still haven't been able to wish everyone Happy Belated birthdays and the list grows longer by the day...sorry.
Love you guys,
PS: Anyone around here having sex on Sundays with the Pinkgasm crowd? Just curious, we did it once, anything for disaster relief, right?