clickmom

honing my anger

Today I did some decluttering, which is essentially, mostly reorganizing, sorting and disposing of all the clutter. I'm slow as anything when I do something like that, but in my own defense, I didn't just hide the mess or move it to a secret location. I did it the right way. You should see my recycle box! It's overflowing.  

Why the sudden impulse to clean? Uh, in all honestly, because 1. no one was ever going to do it for me and 2. the husband's childhood pal is coming for a visit.

I'm not happy about either reason,

1. I wish a sorting, cleaning fairy would visit from time to time and do it all precisely how I would do it if I weren't killing my own brain cells by binge watching either detective shows or home renovating shows with the husband on the couch while on snacking on the crap that will be my own personal health downfall if I don't cut it out very soon, as in right now, today, the very next time I put something into my mouth

And

2. Even though the husband and this dude have known each other since they were 5 I can count the number of times they have spoken to each other on the phone the last ten years (on my fingers- even if I had had some kind of high school shop class band saw accident) and part of me thinks he is coming here as a "this might be the last time I get to see you" or "I want to se how sick you are for myself" kind of thing, and I don't think a person deserves that curiosity visit when they haven't "been there" all along. I mean, this guy isn't wasting a minute of his day to day time wondering how the husband is feeling or even (gasp) trying to convince the husband to live a healthier lifestyle. You know what I mean? I guess I'm kind of an all in type of girl.

The only good thing I can say about the childhood friend visiting is that when he leaves it will be less embarrassing if someone comes into my house and if I'm allergic to dust I will be feeling much better in a couple of days.

Speaking of a healthier lifestyle, the husband went out to buy himself some diabetes suicide food, and today he sat down with his half gallon container of vanilla ice cream and proceeded to hard chew it for the nest 20 minutes. Who chews ice cream so hard they wear enamel off of their molars? Mr. dementia that's who! I can't believe I had to listen to that. I wanted to poke my ears out. 

For real.

Speaking of ears, I have been having less hearing disturbance episodes since getting and wearing the mouth guard from the jaw specialist. Saturday night I passed out on the couch without the guard in and woke up a couple of hours later to intense ear itching and the craziest sounds coming from inside ear which sounded like someone had stuffed my ear with cellophane that was uncrinkling deep inside my head. I almost went mad over it, but luckily I fell back asleep. 

And also, speaking of dementia. I am working on the speech I am going to tell the neurologist off with if he is dismissive of everything I say again. I'm going to give it to him good. He's kind of an asshole. He's just a sexist brilliant asshole who works at the best hospital around here and I am just the raw exposed nerve who isn't going to be quiet and let him talk down to me when the husband manages to fool him and lead him to believe that everything is just fine. I have two months to pool and hone my anger. I'm going to do it too.

 

planning

I grew up I'm Manhattan and went to high school in the Bronx. The summer before I started taking the train to school every day a up and coming violinist named Renee Katz was pushed by a homeless dude onto the train tracks right as the train pulled into the station, severing one of her hands and ending her hopes of being a professional violinist. That terrified me. It was unprovoked and senseless. For the first few months of school I would wait for my train with my back pressed against the filthy subway wall, not wanting to leave the slightest space for anyone to get behind me and push me into the tracks. To this day (40 years later...) my heart beings to race as I hear the tracks begin their buzz and hum as the train approaches.

When I got off the train to school I had to walk two endlessly long blocks to the school. The blocks were deserted, as they bordered the campus of  Lehman College, the sunken rail yard where graffiti covered trains sat empty and motionless in waiting and fields where no one ever seemed to actually play on.

I may have been a big fraidy cat, but that commute was scary. I felt somewhat ok on the train despite the dicey neighborhoods we passed through, but once off the train, I was all head down all business just to get to school in one piece. I had a friend who was often late and had to walk that walk from the subway station alone and he would sometimes get mugged by the boys from a nearby all boys high school. Back then stealing some kid's train passes was a big score. It meant unlimited train rides Monday through Friday anywhere in the city from 5AM to 5PM every day. Those of us who were granted train passes had some serious after school adventure back then. And if you got mugged you where on your own fare wise, so losing your train pass was a big deal.

Here is where being a kid was better back then. The second I saw my school, as soon as I turned the corner and saw the students in the yard and that squat ugly building, I knew I was safe. And once I was inside of the school? I was totally safe. I never for one second worried that I could be harmed in any way inside the walls of my high school. As I should have felt. For me, high school was a really nice place. We didn't even have bullies, as far as I knew. (Corroborated later in life by one of my classmates- it was ideal as far as those things were concerned)  I never for one moment felt unsafe in my school.  Even the day there was a fire in a science lab, and we all stood out in the cold for something like 2 hours before heading to our various modes of public transportation and going home, didn't feel threatening. As a matter of fact, that science lab fire is the most potentially frightening thing I can imagine from my years in high school and it wasn't in the least bit frightening, only kind of chilly because it was winter. 

It breaks my heart that kids today are trying to figure out how they are going to run from danger, hide in their classrooms or if they want to be a hero and take a bullet for someone else. I've been watching the March on television. It's unbelievable that we live in world today where these are the things our children have to plan for. And by unbelievable I mean completely fucked up. 

she knows

So. I'm siting in the dining room because that is where my computer is ever since the husband so thoughtfully had the cable guy move the router so I can not get a signal in the room I have set up with a desk, bookshelf, printer table etc...

No hostility here....

Anyways, I get up to grab the mug of tea I have forgotten by the toaster, I reach into the kitchen and turn quick to go back to the computer. Sweet pea, who had been lounging underneath the table (can't get too far from the one who walks and feeds her) was on my heel... but when I suddenly did a 180 she swirled around as if to deny she had been prepared to leave the room and she smacked the side of her head into the doorframe.

Appropriately, (not) I laughed so hard that she dashed right back under the table and won't come out for me to kiss it and make it better.

I love that dog so much. I think she knows. 

out

It's March 19th, and as usual I feel as if my sanity hinges on the weather. I desperately need spring to arrive even though winter wasn't so rough until this month. I am sunshine deprived.  I have pretty much been sick since New Years Day, and no human should have to deal with the ridiculous amount of stress I'm shouldering these days. I realize people have worse, but to be honest, I am living in a world where most people have it less stressful, and I'm also in the place where the petty complaints of those who have less stress than I do are starting to get under my skin. I have a friend on vacation on a tropical island right now who so needed desperately to get away. The only thing rocking her boat these days is the clown show aka: the republican party's attempts at destroying democracy and life as we know it. I don't why she even told me how she was desperate to get away. She knows what my situation is. Another friend was chatting with me about where I might like to live after I told her I am over the winter weather here. She asked if I wanted to land in Virginia or maybe North Carolina. I practically screamed at her that I don't feel like I can travel freely as a jew. It's interesting how easily ignored that rhetoric of the alt-right/nazi movement is. Speaking of, 2 women in Arizona vandalized a mosque and one woman had the surname Gonzalez. Shouldn't all of the non-whites be sticking together through this? Seriously, Gonzalez! I can't believe how much the population I have overestimated, as far as basic human decency goes. How is this country going to come back from this? I hope we are getting close to hitting bottom, because I think tat much like anyone person in trouble we are going to need to hit bottom before climbing back up and it's hideous enough already. No need to make matters worse.

I find it insane that I have to type in passwords for all sorts of benign internet transactions and nothing bad ever happens until some ridiculous company that I didn't even know had my info gets hacked. Also, why does my phone constantly harass me to type in my google password and then tell me what I typed in is wrong?? One day I am going to take a hammer to the phone. It's driving me out of my mind.

 

 

 

cautious

Times are tough these days and inspiration is ZERO. Seriously folks, can barely find the energy to roll out of bed each day. I'm not sure if I am seasonally affected, actually depressed, or just having having a completely normal reaction to watching your husband on the not so slow but definitely steady decline. By the way, the husband still somehow thinks he is going to live forever. I check the dude for breath sounds every morning and he says we will have to figure something out for when his disability goes away 9 years from now when he's 65. I can't make this twilight zone shit up if I wanted to.

I'd really like to start writing my porn novel again. But, like I started off this blog post with- inspiration- 0. I don't even know what it would take for me to feel like I can function beyond the absolute bare minimum. 

One tid bit of good news is that I have finally decided to break up with my less than fantastic dentist. I've been not happy with her for the longest time, and I didn't know where else to turn. The oral surgeon wouldn't give me another name because she recommended him to me. It was annoying. Then, to make a long story short, I finally made made my way to the orthodontist to stop my top and bottom teeth from twisting into each other and cracking up as they grind on each other and he thought I needed to see someone to readjust my bite. I said I wouldn't trust the less than thrilling dentist with that job since my bite had gotten screwed up under her watch (and I suspect partially as her fault for giving me crappy crowns- I HATE her lab guy) so the orthodontist recommended a dentist who has a specialty in bites! I liked this dude a lot. However, the bite guy/soon to be new dentist said I needed to see a jaw expert because of my through the roof TMJ (The bite guy touched my clamped up jaw muscles, his eyes opened wide and he asked me if I had a lot of stress in my life. 20 minutes later when I recovered from rolling on the floor laughing over the utter absurdity of that question....) Anyways, the jaw guy is another dream come true- he can touch my head or neck and make pain magically go away- a skill previously only seen in the chiro from stepford who I still occasionally drive 90 minutes each way to see because of his magical healing pain removing touch! In the end the jaw guy made me a mouth guard to wear at night, which I have been given before and never used to the point of results, but this time I promised to give it a fair try and miraculously it freaking worked. I am happy to say I no longer wake up with a hot lava slipping down my scalp headache every single day. The headache thing was a newish side effect- only maybe in the last year or so. The only thing not great about the new dental line up (dentist/bite guy, orthodontist and jaw guy) is that they are all guys. I would have preferred women. I want to make a conscious effort to support women. 

Just like I have started to do in photography. I walk around photo fairs and ask to see the women's work, telling the people who man the booths that I prefer to support women. I hope other women are saying the same thing so that in the end, galleries, publishers, etc... start realizing their talents are not balanced and they correct for that.

Ah yes, the fun never ends.... just like this winter from hell which will not go away- and managed to leave us folks here in the north east with 3 big weather events in the past 2 weeks and a possible going away nor'easter next week. I am praying that next week's "event" turns out to be all rain and not snow. This morning in the woods there were huge swaths of almost snowless landscapes, so much so that I told myself I might bring my (probably dusty it's been so neglected) camera tomorrow! What is this? A teeny tiny snowless splinter of inspiration? Maybe. I reserve the right to wait and see.

Tree blanket

So. On Sunday I set out to cut up and remove a sizable evergreen which snapped in half right next to and slightly blocking my driveway. At first I had no problem sawing and stacking the top most pieces of trunk. Then I tried to pull off the last 5 or so feet of hanging trunk from the bottom part of the trunk. They were tied together by a tangle of vines which had grown up into the tree. I removed the branches on one side of the trunk section and then pulled on it while backing up across the width of the driveway.  As soon as the back of my boots hit the tall mound of snow the plow had left on the other side of the driveway the vines snapped, the trunk swung loose towards me and I sat down hard onto and over the plow mound of snow with the trunk section across my lap and the remaining branches covering my legs like a big green blanket. I couldn't lift it of my lap. I started to laugh and laugh thinking about how ridiculous I must look.  If only I had a security video camera outside the house!!  My butt was freezing! I could wiggle my hand into my pocket, luckily my phone was freshly charged but I couldn't figure out who to call. Josh was at school for a rehearsal, I didn't want to bother him, but he could theoretically be home pretty fast if I did. I did not want to embarrass myself with a 911 call. The husband was sleeping, and he wouldn't be able to help me anyway. Then I remembered hearing some noise coming from the neighbor across the street house. I called them. They ran right over. Helped me get the branch off me so I could roll out from underneath it and even (the neighbor loves his hardware type toys) cut it up with a chainsaw for me. Obviously, I thanked them profusely and the neighbor husband joked that I could repay them with baked goods. I just went over there with dozens of freshly made chocolate chip cookies.

Tiny Little Owl

helping

I'm still completely shook up from the "event" (or more accurately "non-event" thanks to one kid who did the right thing) at Josh's school the other day. Think it might have to do with the feeling I had when I pulled up to his school, and despite Josh's reassurances that he was not in danger, I felt as if he was in danger. I sat outside the school, looking at the wall of the school knowing my baby was just on the other side of that wall and I COULDN'T DO A DAMN THING FOR HIM. That is helplessness like I only felt once before. When Evan was in trouble. From the moment I came out of the anesthesia induced coma like sleep after they surgically removed Matt from my abdomen and I got to hold Matt for the first time I knew how mothers could lift cars off their children or fight a tiger if they had to. I felt so fierce and like there was nothing I couldn't do if my kid was being threatened, and this situation changed all of that again.  Thinking my kid was in that building and there was nothing I do to keep him safe was traumatizing right down to the deepest core of my soul. I've been crying on and off all day.

So, Now I'll try not to be depressing and tell you a sweet pea story instead. One of sweet pea's dog buddies is a dog named Belle, who looks a lot like sweet pea. As a matter of fact, sometimes the only way to tell them apart is by spotting Belle's bright pink harness. Belle's owner's son came home with a sweet little german shepherd puppy around christmas and I was nervous because sweet pea does not always like the puppies. But this puppy, let's call him, Beast, (see what I did there? Belle and Beast?) is just undeniably adorable and even sweet pea fell totally head over heels for the Beast. I can see her trying to teach him things and I just want to squeeze them both it's so cute. Anyways, I was walking with Belle and Beast and their human when another dog ran over and began to assert himself on Beast. Beast rolled onto his back and the other dog growled and pushed and began to rough up poor sweet Beast and he began to scream out. In a snap sweet pea and Belle chased the offending dog off, Beast jumped up and clambered onto a stone wall. Belle and sweet pea, in unison, hopped up on either side of Beast and stood tall with their chests pushed out guarding over him, and if there was a photo the only appropriate caption would have to be "You're gonna have to get through us first" Because sweet pea and Belle looked so strong and serious. I was so proud of sweet pea for standing up for the puppy, who isn't even her own puppy. I rewarded both girls with praise, behind the ear scratches and kibble. 

Now I am going to write an email to one of the young men who graduated grad school with me. He joined our critique group and I'd really like to help him find the meaning behind the kind of photos he is making. He is shooting without understanding his motives and I don't know why but I want to help him. He wasn't very nice to me in school, (as a matter of fact, he was somewhat condescending, much like a hormonal teenager who doesn't think his parents understand the world he lives in) but the kid is totally lost and he knows it. He just doesn't know how to find his way. If he emails me back a snotty response I will share it with you. So, in some way I kind of hope he does, even though I actually want to help him.