Interests:reading, writing, and differential calculus Expertise:"I know who I am. No one else knows who I am. If I was a giraffe, and someone said I was a snake, I'd think, no, actually I'm a giraffe."
--Richard Gere, to The Guardian (UK), June 2002
My family and I are taking a trip to the Oregon coast this week. (Note the deliberate avoidance of the word "vacation.") Right now I'm supposed to be packing. Or something. After a week of record-breaking temperatures (I'm guessing--I don't know for sure that they were record-breaking, but they may as well have been), the Oregon rain is finally back. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see rain in my life. And it's supposed to rain all week while we're at the coast--yay! Oh, wait, that isn't good.
Actually, I think it's only supposed to be cold the first couple days. I think by the time we leave it will be sunny. It's all good. I don't care. I'm just along for the ride anyway.
On Saturday we went to the Big Satan's company picnic. We go to the Big Satan company picnic every year. I don't enjoy the Big Satan company picnic, but the children do, as does my husband, and if we planned our family activities according to what Madhousewife felt like doing, no one would have any fun, ever. So we went to the company picnic, which featured over 70 different activities (according to the brochure). Usually we spend the first part of the day hanging out by the inflatable bouncy things, then have lunch and...you know, everything after lunch is sort of a blur. I just know it's the longest day of the year for me. Anyway, this year we didn't get to the picnic until lunch was starting (folks-going-to-the-beach traffic), so we ate lunch first and then we went swimming. I know! We live dangerously, what can I say.
I have never participated in the water play at the Big Satan company picnic--mostly because I find the logistics of water-play participation constitute an unfavorable ratio of pain-in-the-neckiness to actual fun-ness. I don't like activities that involve me wearing a bathing suit--not because I don't like the way I look in a bathing suit (because I actually think I look all right in one--at least now that I live in Oregon and am no longer in high school), but because the process of changing in and out of one in a public location just makes me tired. The thought of it makes me tired, and then I do it and am exhausted afterward. Last year I was holding a sleeping baby while the rest of the Madhousehold hydro-galavanted, but this year I pretty much had to join in because Girlfriend wasn't about to do any sleeping while there was water fun to be had.
Fortunately for me, it was so effing un-freaking-believably hot this week that you couldn't have paid me to stay out of the pool. I thought I might stay in there all freaking day, but 'twas not to be. Actually, Girlfriend turned out to be less interested in jumping into the pool first thing. Probably--no, scratch that--definitely because she could sense how very much her mother wanted to be in that pool, and she was conflicted: I want to go swimming, but if I go swimming, Mom will be happy--augh, my brain is exploding! We spent what seemed like an hour but was probably only a half-hour (time crawls when your skin is melting) just hanging out by the beverage table. Thank goodness for free diet Coke. Anyway, eventually Girlfriend agreed to put on her swim trunks (long story), and we went in the pool, and it was the best feeling in the whole wide world. I don't understand why all 7,000 people (or however many BSCP attendees there were) weren't in that pool, but I'm grateful there was room for me.
Unfortunately, I have a low tolerance for chlorinated water. It kind of makes me sick, and also, once it gets in my eyes, my mellow is considerably harshed. Do you know that it is very difficult to manage a non-swimming two-year-old in a swimming pool unless you keep your eyes open? Well, it's true. The gift of sight becomes very important when you add life-guarding duties to the mix. That's when I became conflicted: My eyes are burning and I'm nauseated, but this water feels so cool...if I could just close my eyes forever and not end up drowning my child...crap, Mister Bubby, stop shooting that water cannon at my face!
Well, eventually we all got out of the pool because they were setting up the huge water slide on the side of the hill. Girlfriend was not happy to be leaving the pool: Mom wants to leave, so I must not want to leave--finally, the world makes sense again! But I dragged her out anyway, and we all stood in line for the big slide. Sugar Daddy has long wanted to get me on this slide, probably because he knows I'm not a fan of water slides, and he considers it his duty to change my mind through intimidation. Anyway, I knew I'd have no excuse for not going on the slide this year, and since it was still so bleeding hot and the water slide didn't have any chlorine in it, I was okay with the whole thing.
So I went down the water slide twice, and I was all funned out. No, it was a very fun water slide--because it just slides down a big steep hill and doesn't lead to a pool of water that one plunges into and almost drowns in even though it's only four feet deep because one is so disoriented from the act of sliding and plunging. Not that I speak from personal experience. Cough. Anyway, it was a very fun water slide, but you know me, there's only so much fun I can take before I start developing a rash--so I was all done and started thinking about how awesome it would be to go home soon. Like immediately.
I think we stayed for another hour. It felt like longer. Maybe it was longer, I don't know. I didn't have a watch, which was good because I might have gone crazy watching the minutes crawl by. I drank some more diet Coke. I lamented the fact that they'd run out of cookies. (They've never run out of cookies before! It was the one saving grace of the event, as far as I was concerned.) I needed to do something to take my mind off the fact that I wasn't anywhere near going home, so I ate a corn dog. Well, I didn't eat all of it because half-way through I thought, "This is just wrong," and I went back to just sipping the free diet Coke. (The corn dog was free, too, but that didn't make it any tastier.) I really could have gone for some cookies right about then. Well, whatever. Eventually we did leave, and that's what's important.
I was so tired. I still haven't quite recuperated. And now I'm going on a trip. To the ocean! More water! More bathing suits! At least it won't be hot, and there won't be chlorine. Or corn dogs. I'm bringing my own damn cookies.
I'm going to pack now. After I make the kids some lunch. Phooey.
Sugar Daddy: Your computer's slow. Are you defragging your hard drive regularly?
Madhousewife: Well, I would, if I knew how to do that.
SD: I gots to learn you how to use a computer, woman.
Mad: No, I think the position you've taken is that I'm supposed to
sit here and not know anything, and then when I tell you I don't know
anything, you can make fun of me.
SD: Well, that's closer to the truth.
So I promised you all an update on my latest experiment with
psychopharmacology, specifically the FocalinXR. The good news is that I
don't have to tangle with my insurance company anymore over these
prescriptions because I am all done with these stimulants, forever. No
offense to the FocalinXR, which I'm sure is an awesome wonder drug for
people with ADD and ADHD--including adults--but it is apparently not
doing much for my problem because at 5 mg I feel no difference, and at
10 mg I want to scream and cry all the time. So I think we're over
that. Yes. All done. Very good. Except for the part about me feeling
like crap all the time. But that's another story.
Speaking of another story, I was driving home the other night and
"Working My Way Back to You" by the Four Seasons came on the radio, and
I started crying. Why? How should I know? It was disturbing, though.
(Not quite as disturbing as that time in 1997 when I wept all the way
through a Celine Dion song. Yes, I listened to the whole thing! That
was the disturbing part!) But still, an obvious sign that I'm in a
fragile emotional state.
And mental, too, because I woke up yesterday morning and couldn't
quite force myself out of bed, and so I was staring at my Joe Cool
pajamas and realized for the first time that Snoopy wears his
sunglasses with the stems under his ears. And I thought, "That just
can't be comfortable. It's bugging me just looking at them." So I
stopped looking at them, of course, but it still bugged me. I mean, the
more I thought about it, I supposed it made some sense--according to
Charles Schulz, Snoopy's ears are very strong; they keep him balanced
on top of his dog house, you know. Well, that's what he said! And it's
true that I don't have dog ears, so how would I really know whether or
not it's comfortable to have sunglasses tucked under them or not? And
yet, it just didn't seem right to me.
Okay, I'm off my FocalinXR and obviously not focalizing very well.
Have I mentioned also that I'm not sleeping very much? That's a side
issue, though. I wasn't going to go there. I was just thinking about
the name "Focalin" and how lame most prescription drug names are. I
mean, "Prozac": "Pro" + "Zac." "Pro" sounds okay; it suggests forward
movement. "Zac," on the other hand, just sounds like something you take
for crazy. I don't know why. Because Z is a crazy letter, I guess. It's
probably no coincidence that it figures prominently in the word
"crazy." So "Prozac" makes it sound like you're moving toward crazy
rather than away from it. "Effexor" is a little better; it sounds like
"effective," plus it has an X in it, and X is a letter with super
powers. (Hello? X-Men?) "Zoloft" has "loft," which suggests a lifting
of the mood, and that kind of off-sets the unstable Z at the beginning.
"Wellbutrin" is another anti-depressant, and obviously, it has the word
"well" in it, and that's self-explanatory, but what kind of suffix is
"butrin"? I can't even begin to think of where one would get that from.
So my psychiatrist and I were making small talk about the lameness
of drug brand names, and she thought the lamest one was "Abilify." I
said I actually liked the sound of "Abilify." I think I like it because
it doesn't even attempt to be subtle. "Right now, you are unable, but
this drug will ABILIFY you!" She said Abilify was next on her list of
drugs for me to try, right after "Geodon." Seriously, what the hell?
"Geodon"? That's like...a rock. And I guess I'll be STEADY AS A ROCK
after taking "Geodon." Part of me still thinks there's a market for
something called "SuperHappyFun Pill," but no one asked me.
Speaking of names and no one asking, I've never understood why
people show so little imagination when naming streets. How many "Main"
and "Southridge" and "Hilldale" and other boring street names are out
there? If I was in charge of naming streets, I'd have some fun with it.
My husband and I used to talk about building neighborhoods and naming
the streets thematically. There could be a Math neighborhood, and it
would have streets like "Parabola Place" and "Tangent Terrace."
"X-Axis" and "Y-Axis" could intersect in the middle. You could also
have a Grammar neighborhood. Wouldn't it be cool to say you lived on
"Dangling Participle"? That would make it a somewhat dysfunctional
grammar neighborhood, but you get the picture.
Seriously, though, the more I think about it, the more I like this
"Abilify" drug--just the idea of it, I mean. Because you could have so
much fun with the ad campaign. Your slogan could be "Abilify me!"
"Gosh, Fred, you're looking well these days. What's you secret? Exercise? New diet?"
I just dropped Princess Zurg off at her first day of art camp. She was dressed in all black (really) and was so excited. I've been wanting to put her in art classes for years because she's very talented, but it's only been within the last year or so that I've felt confident in her ability to sit (or stand) in a class and follow directions to the extent that she could learn anything. I hope that she has a good experience, since it's going to last for a week.
I have been less than fully engaged in life, as of late. Starting about a year ago, I thought to myself, "I should really wean the baby so I can get some better drugs in my system." Then last March I finally did wean the baby, and I went to my psychiatrist and said, "Better drugs, please." And that's when this grand experiment with stimulants began. What I've found with the stimulants is that at low doses they suppress my appetite but don't particularly do anything for my mood. At higher doses (which are still relatively low) they make me irritable and and dark (metaphorically, mood-wise, not like I tan more easily). Also, the hoops through which one must jump to get insurance companies to approve these drugs (most often prescribed to treat ADHD symptoms) for adults--it's somewhat ridiculous, which also makes me irritable and dark and somewhat prone to despair. It is almost not worth the trouble.
So the last time I went to my psychiatrist and said, "Better drugs that aren't stimulants, please," she respected my feelings but nevertheless managed to talk me into giving one more stimulant the old college try. It took about ten days to resolve the insurance issues, but for the past few days I've been taking FocalinXR, which isn't suppressing my appetite any more than usual--having found that if one gets depressed enough, one can stop eating even without drug interference--but it's been extremely difficult to discern what effect it's having on my mood, if any. I don't want to jump off a bridge or anything, and I don't particularly want to stay in bed all day, but on the other hand, food still doesn't taste good and I am still more or less joie-de-vivre-free. Some stimulant, eh?
Well, I'm only on 5 mg. I suppose I should bump it up to 10 mg or something, but I really just too lazy. And that makes me think that maybe 5 mg is perfectly sufficient to counteract depression, just not laziness, and perhaps laziness is my real problem, in which case I should be, what, asking for a caffeine prescription? On the other hand, for a drug that's supposed to treat ADHD--a condition I don't have--it has not really helped my concentration. Oh, look, is that a chicken? No, but seriously, even writing--which, unlike the laundry and the dishes, I like to do--has been like pulling teeth these last few weeks. Normally even when I'm depressed, I can still write. I may even write better than usual. But maybe that's only when I'm eating.
Why on earth would I stop eating? This is me we're talking about. I love eating. Eating is one of my few reliable pleasures in life. And yet I can barely bring myself to do it lately. I want to, but, eh, I don't want to. And that's just weird.
You know, I'm not looking for sympathy here. I'm just talking. It's keeping me awake. And from doing the dishes. So don't cry for me, gentle readers. It will only make me feel guilty.
On a happier note, my friend odetocorny has revived my interest in Mad Housewife brand chardonnay. Actually, Mad Housewife makes a chardonnay, a cabernet, a merlot, and a white Zinfandel--ooh la la! I've always been curious whether Mad Housewife wine is any good, but I can't find out for myself because a) drinking's against my religion, and b) in order to do a proper comparison, I would have to sample many other kinds of wine, which is even more against my religion, and c) if I'm already depressed, I should probably not start drinking. So I was wondering if any of you out there who already drink wine would be willing to pick up a bottle of Mad Housewife and tell me if it tastes okay, or if it's just a cool gimmick. Because, you know, if I get approached for an endorsement deal, I want to make an informed decision. That's all.
When I pulled my teeth last night, I managed to produce another blog post for BCC.
Here's how it works:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker. Choose 3 columns with 4 rows.
The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name. (kid version: favorite animal?)
True
