Wow Tim Curry Really Is In Everything Isn't He?

Christmas pageants exist and they're just the same as they ever were. Verbatim reading/reciting Bible verses interspersed with Christmas songs. The casting of three wise men wasn't as racist as I was concerned it might be with the exception that one of the wise men was, in irl, named Salome. 

The woman running the show appeared stressed af about the whole experience and copped an attitude with L for following the directions her teacher gave her to go sit in the front row next to the piano. All of a sudden it became, "Where's the rest of your class? Why didn't you all come down together?" Chill, lady. The answers are, sequentially: I don't know, those bitches don't appear to know what a call time is. And: Were we supposed to? There appears to have been some intra-production team miscommunication.

I sat through the walk-through and the pageant itself, which took 2 hours, and then had to leave because that's the point at which the visceral discomfort I experience when in a church becomes unbearable.

Plus I'd already been to Costco, my own church, and visiting with my in-laws that day after which my parents got all pushy with me about things like having a program and a candle (As a keepsake! ...even though L's name is nowhere to be found in the program.) so I was kind of at-capacity when I walked in. 

Anyway, today and this week has been all about: Stardew Valley mostly (I'm trying to cultivate relationships with all townies equally), dishes & laundry, actually cooking, figuring out infant items (there's a tedious list of Things and Stuff that accompany babies even if you [I] are [am] planning on a skeleton crew situation), going to Ace Hardware, the gym, reading, and having Home Alone 2 on in the background.

Oh, and for being -5 degrees outside. Still.

Merry n' Bright

Chasing my tail (mentally). 

I deadass forgot that L had a drum lesson yesterday, but I did bake two batches of cookies, pickup some newborn clothes on the buy-nothing group, and get some extraneous holiday stockings sent off.

The boys arrive today, weather permitting, and it's been cold as hell. Hovering between -7 and 2 degrees yesterday, and supposed to be much colder next week. Merry Christmas!*

The news in the news is the news. Nothing much surprising is happening. Local news is a little more actionable, but still doesn't tend towards the good. There's an $8 million shortfall for the school budget next year (Again? How? Jesus Fuck - how?) and they're toying with ideas like shorting the special education budget or moving to a four-day school week. *sigh*

I think I've mostly accepted that this last week was for resting. And, I mean, it's the last rest I'll get for a long time probably!

Have been reading Marble Hall Murders by Anthony Horowitz, and wending my way through a backlog of podcasts. My current notions about fulfilling murder mysteries are that they ought to be British, with a female protagonist, ideally in her 40s-50s, hopefully a POC (but if not it's not a deal-breaker). 

Okay, time to scrape together the motivation to do the things I need to do. Maybe even want to do!

* ...and stay the fuck inside!

Just a Lil' Catchup

Psych hospital training - has been rather lovely, but too early. The sun peeking over the mountains and talking about dignity and imminent versus immediate danger, The history of the hospital. The parking lot overlooks the place I worked for eleven year, so yesterday I peeked out and happened to see a teacher I know who worked there before I started and works there still, heading off for lunch like usual. Dressed in shorts and the a puffer coat in 7-degree weather. 

Necklace-making playdate - L had a playdate with someone she used to go to school with at her house (which was very nice), and the mom had texted that she had an activity "planned for us". By that, evidently, she meant that she wanted to make jewelry with me while the girls played. They ordered pizza and we chatted and made necklaces, and it took a good thirty minutes to adjust but I ended up liking it because I like having An Activity to do while socializing, and I finally realized that I probably wasn't going to be judged for having subpar design skills. She asked what my hobbies were and I didn't have a good answer for her. Burlesque? But she didn't seem to know what that was, and I didn't get into explaining it in detail aside from that the costumes were rhinestoned.

How to be a friend in your 30s: It was a lovely time, and she was very hospitable (including sending dolls and a play car home with L) and, even, mind you, this isn't a kid that L has been in class with since kindergarten. So now I know I need to reciprocate (and soon!) but I'm still trying to figure out how, since it's difficult to keep my house in shareable condition. I had a good week after the Thanksgiving playdate but that's since fallen apart. And somebody recently got injured at the trampoline park (which was the other option). So I'm gonna have to get...creative. and I don't feel creative, I feel dull. There's a sense that I only have two weeks to figure it out. Tick-tock!*

Capstone, blarg: Somehow, someway, the online version of Microsoft my school espouses ate my capstone document. One day things were fine and it was updating, the next my mentor had left some comments to resolve, and the day after that, there appeared to be ~495 views on the document (???) and I got a message saying it was corrupted and suggesting I work on it offline. Great. I have a Mac and don't have the wherewithal to figure out the whole opening Command Prompt and trying to run...whatever needed to happen to recover the document. As an elder millennial I am aware this is an option that exists on this earth, but at the time it just seemed easier to rebuild the document from the ground up and upload it to the stupid folder in the stupid Creighton cloud (?). Which I (stupidly!) then I did. And am now not clear on several key details including: did my mentor sign it? Do all the signatures need to be on the same document because if so I need to do some Additional Steps, but this hasn't been directly communicated and I am tired with poor quality of attention so.... Yeah. I really need to get my shit together and followup on that. Good point. Dammit. 

The rest of this post will be a list, because I have meant to be working on this for quite a while but have been sucked into a delightful combination of hibernation, ennui, and anhedonia:

• I have. So many. Gray hairs. Well, not all that many. But I think I might be looking at full-on Andie MacDowell by 50. Which I'm not mad at.
• Am on a big Escape To the Country kick. It's just so damn soothing! Beautiful countryside, you learn a little bit about some sort of niche artisan craft, and then the couple looking at houses almost invariably decides not to pursue any of the homes they've been shown. Which is way more like real life than HGTV. And the British host tends to make a lot more off-the-cuff remarks about their clients than the HGTV realtors. Best they can do is the side-eye.
• There has also been much in the way of pasta from Costco. The only problem with this is that everything from Costco tastes just a little bit like...Costco. You know what I mean.
• During my orientation at psych hospital my start time was 7:00 AM which means I had to get up at 5:00 AM. I'm not really made for getting up at 5:00 AM.
• L had a drum recital in which she played along to a backing track of "We Will Rock You" and perseverated on the coolest shirt to wear**; she also had a folk dance recital for school which was, in no particular order, a hot mess, super-stressful, overwhelming (meltdown for me, tears/meltdown for her), and sort of cute. there was a cake/pie auction, a jazz band, regular orchestra, and some sort of advanced orchestra.
• S is back from Cordova and things have been alright. No notes at the moment, but we're staring down the barrel of last year's Christmas fiasco, so who knows! We had a brief conversation lately in which he asked if we had nachos for Christmas Eve last year. Bestie, I don't think so? As I recall there were cookies burning in the oven when I got home and...it just wasn't a good scene. I think I wrote about it last year. Anyway. So far better than all that.
• Have unfortunately downloaded Stardew Valley again, and although it is fun and relaxing (in a way), it's also terribly addictive. It does feel different than the first time, though. 
• Very short list of British musicians who are living the dream:
• Enya, Kate Bush, Patrick Wolf. Well. A dream, anyway.

*We ended up going to the trampoline park anyway and nobody was injured. Someone did throw up, but not one of ours, and the dad fielding the kid did the classic move of catching vomit in his hands. That? Deserves the Mockingjay salute. 

**Black loose fit T from summer camp 2024 she'd made a rockfish print on, if you're interested.

Where We're Going - We Don't Need Segues

Despite S's reductive stance on inter-gender friendships, he now has at least three women in his life who I think I would characterize as friends. And you know what? I'm all for it. These are only through AA, as of now, but I'm hopeful for the future. I don't want to be all like: see? See? Does it not expand your perspective and bring goodness into your life and not make everything about sex and power? But also: I do! I do want to gloat a bit.*

Sort of related: the wife of the man he most recently had a freakout about who have a daughter who was in ...you know what? I'm just going to link it HERE. (Edit 12/9/25: Wow did I not proofread. Fixed now, but Yeezus, sorry!) Okay. That situation, right? The wife brings her other kid to OT at the my current fieldwork site and wow is it awkward. She hasn't outright asked, "So, why haven't you responded to my husband about a playdate for our kids since we live in the same neighborhood?" But we're both thinking about it very loudly. And I blush and make small talk and want to die of embarrassment. I've done many similar things on my own time without any interference from S, but rest assured - those other things were embarrassing too. THE CRINGE.

A quote I came across while completing The Scoping Literature Table o' Doom: "...a writer and philosopher, Herman Hesse reckoned that: “essentially, people express freedom only in their choice of dependency.”

Which: sure. Who among us, amirite?

We were talking (read: I was monologuing) about The Logistics of childcare and how I was relieved New Kid has gotten into infant care in a good daycare hereafter to be referred to as Hplace (*swish*)** which will cost us $2,000 a month (yes, you read that right) but still and S got a bit quiet and hurt and reiterated that he wanted to stay home with the baby. Which...*sigh*. That's good, right? This is what we want?

Except for that I have a nagging feeling about it. And while at first I couldn't really put my finger on it as I was talking to M (student friend; at the same fieldwork with me) about it, she said, "...didn't he forget L at home like 9 months ago?" Which...actually? Yes. Yes to the forgot thing not the 9 months thing. So that's kind of a Factor in this column. As is the feeling I constantly have where look; nothing in life is guaranteed especially not that S will do what he says he's going to do. And while I don't have Big Feelings about it at the moment due to generalized busyness, meds, and whatever hormones pregnancy is throwing my way I do remember it. In my bones. So yeah: I'm gonna need to plan for the worst and hope for the best here.

And, I thought I wrote about it at some point, but a quick search revealed differently - my witchy aunt had a dream in January 2024 about my daughter telling me to take extra care and protect her from "someone unsavory around her while unattended". She said someone was supposed to be watching her for a little while and that she was at their house which was very cluttered and messy (which honestly sounds as much like my house as not) with a lot of chaos. Many random strangers were roaming around coming in and out of the house and a man she didn't recognize sleeping in the bedroom amongst all the mess. And that I was very upset she'd been left alone.

And perhaps that's hokum. And perhaps it does not refer to S specifically or all men writ large or anything. But she was left home alone about 6 months later. 

Okay, I'm going to transition my brain back to the real-real now. Last day of fieldwork today! Two more interventions (or maybe three!) A rat's nest of paper to clear out! One laminating job! Figuring out dinner before picking L up and heading to a School Function tonight in which she sings about tailors and mice (I think???)! And psyching myself up for a playdate tomorrow afternoon. Woo to the hoo. Let's go, 6-7 and all that.

- considerations around childcare; S versus Hplace versus a secret third place.

*As far as I know these friendships have not actually changed his opinion on friendships between genders, however.

**And Hplace is only Plan A because it's what's panned out so far. I have a Plan B in the works which doesn't even involve S staying home. Most of the time I am Type C but with some very specific parts of life I am very much Type A, thanks. Look! A three-year-plan and a chart!

What am I going to do with my one wild and precious life? Ummmmmmmm...

1.5-ish weeks of fieldwork left and I'm pretty ready to move along. Mostly, I think, because I have a lot of anxiety about What's Coming Next and things aren't moving as fast as they need to there. Same old things. X only gets back to me once every week which is way too long because I need Y's signature on paperwork as well and they, too, are flaky. Oh and everything needs to be (ideally) done and dusted by the end of the November. Which is next week, which is also Thanksgiving week. Ell oh ell.

However! It's been nice to have a Girls Week with L what with S being out of town for work and all. I've been a bit hyperfocused on trying to keep things clean and this is a lot easier with two people and one cat versus three+ people and one cat. Which is helpful for mental health reasons overall. I'm not sleeping as well as I'd like which is unhelpful for mental health reasons. This, I think, is mostly due to discomfort and I don't feel more exhausted than usual so I guess I'll take it.

The day we dropped S off at the airport we kicked it off with tha gym (which - I'm glad I went to the one I did because it's getting shut down with almost no notice), then Spenard Roadhouse, then the museum. And that's all the things I can do in a day. Three. Just three things. Wish I knew why. But it was...oddly nice to go to Spenard Roadhouse, especially? It was sunny and the tater tots were lit and going to Spenard is a kind of like our Little Seattle/Portland. There was a group of four girls in the booth next to us and they were laughing and talking about romantic entanglements, etc. Just normal 20s stuff. Unboxing little funko pops. You know! In any case, one of the girls facing our way had that one Mary Oliver quote tattooed on her forearm. The one in the title. Nice, but vaguely accusatory. Got me thinking, for sure. Do? Do what I can. Do the next right thing? What I did end up doing was going to the museum and watching L pet a blue-tongued skink.

My educator took two sick days last week which was okay because it added some pizzaz to my schedule. I got to see some different therapists and still treated those of my kids who showed up. I just don't have enough stuff to do outside of actually being at the clinic so I didn't take any home days myself. Why am I not sick? Unclear. Even if I were, I don't get sick days as a student.

There's a huge kerfuffle going on right now about the re-categorization of professional categories as per the Department of Education. Occupational therapy (among many, many others) is no longer considered professional which apparently currently mainly affects the amount of student aid/loans someone can receive. There are two schools of thought and I don't disagree with either: one is that we don't need a doctorate at all and it costs too damn much anyway, universities really need to stop charging out the ass; the other is that this is going to result in fewer people pursuing the professions that got axed because money and that, of course, is going to have negative impacts. And of course of course, the whole system (healthcare and higher ed and the government and your mom jk jk) is broken anyway so kind of 🤷 As per my Facebook feed nursing is especially up-in-arms about this though and, I assume, educators and PAs are too.

So we (L and I) went to an actual party last night. I know! What?! It was a housewarming for someone I hadn't previously seen in over a year. Nothing shocking about that, per se. There are only two sets of friends I see more frequently than that and that only because either our kids are friends (set one) and they are extremely mindful (think: top 3 life priorities) about reaching out to and spending time with all their friends (set two). And it was nice except for that there were about 50 people there and I was extremely confused because I didn't get a chance to talk to the friend at all (kinda got the vibe that they were surprised I came?) and it appeared that the friend was now partnered whereas this something I'd never before known them to be (???) and I only knew two other people at the party. I successfully chatted with a pharma rep I'd never met before and the other two people I knew and otherwise kind of felt panicky and like Oh No, a Party. L had a good time though. She's a party animal.

Typically I think I would dwell on Why Can't I Just Be Normal At a Party, etc. But this time it was a little more like: maybe this just means I'm in a different time of life. I've heard a lot of positive shit about myself in the past 2-3 years from others, but this doesn't typically extend to hang-outs and one-on-one connection or feeling like Part of the Group. Perhaps I just have Big Therapist Energy and that's that. I don't think I'm particularly problematic at this time in my life or abrasive. I don't typically enjoy interjecting myself into conversations beyond what's needed to keep Flow, and I do (with one or two exceptions) find social participation to take up a lot of bandwidth which can result in a deficit that lasts a while. So...maybe it's okay that I'm kind of a hermit? It only seems to feel hurtful when I notice that everyone around me seems able to connect in ways that I am not*.  And honestly it seems difficult to catch anyone at all up on What's Going On. I wonder if part of that is the length of time between hangs. Maybe I should just write letters to all my friends. The 'tism-friendly way! 

As is it's always: What's new with you? 500 million things. And me? Um. I'm still coming to terms with everything you just told me. Ima pick 3 things to tell you, and mystically forget everything else I've ever known, done, or thought in the past 6+ months. 

I know to have a village you have to be a villager, but maybe I should just lean into the inevitability of becoming, essentially, Baba Yaga.

The ice fog came in clutch last night and the trees look magical and the mountains look magical and it's all extremely magical out there. And I imagine this when outside or driving around town.

I finished (sort of) the main quest of Blue Prince and have decided to call it good. Could I play it in theory almost forever? Sure. But the game mechanics annoy me. I use up my patience in other ways and demand a little more of the storyline, if I'm honest. Therefore, I've been replaying Pentiment. It got deleted from the Xbox, so I re-downloaded it from the cloud. You thought I was done, S? The deuce, I say! I have more murderers to accuse! More letters to write! More 16th-century Austrian village in which to experience escapism! I'm considering re-downloading Stardew Valley but I don't especially enjoy the grinding.

Happy Chicken & Waffles Day (Wednesday)! Yes, that's still a thing. You can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

*I was going to explain this more, but you know what? Nope. Not today. Maybe it's delusion, maybe it's a function of trauma, maybe it's autism, maybe it's true. But I'm filing it under d for doesn't fucking matter. Although it could also go under f. As in: fuck-it bucket. Into which I chuck things.

Surprise Sick Day!

In which I try, again, to schedule a neuropsych appointment and am told I need a prior authorization rather than just a straight referral (???) and to ask my PCP for one and also can I just ask the PCP to contact the neuropsych directly instead of having me do it? Thanks.

...if I am able to successfully do all that in a timely manner (haha do not worry - if I am, it won't be timely) I may as well turn in my ADHD card. *sigh*

Oh. What's with the title, you may ask? I got a surprise sick day on Monday of last week which was badass. What plans are the best plans? Cancelled plans! Also, I have been sickies for a while, so it's not totally out of pocket. I took a nap and organized and cleaned and worked on capstone some more. Like...uh...a functional human being. Ish. Said nap did not stop me from being exhausted come 9:00 PM, though. Thanks, daylight savings!

Otherwise, it's just been one step in front of another. There have been All About Unitarianism meetings (which have been fun enough - I was definitely correct in calling it "humanist church" all this time), watching Physical: Asia in the downtime, and trying to use the little bit more energy I have to do worthwhile-ish things.

I'm like my OB provider much more this time (she reminds me of an aunt I especially like), and she handed me off some information about perinatal mental health providers who might actually take my insurance (!). 

S is headed out of town again on Saturday, and I think I feel okay about it. There's been a little bit of a sea-change lately (not in a bad way), and I think right now is a window to think about my maladaptive coping strategies and consider how or whether I can connect to another person intimately. Because that's always been difficult, but especially so recently. I kind of keep chasing 'round and 'round in my head about why it's justifiable that I have difficulty with connection*, and coming to a stopping point of "And you do need to figure out what practices or circumstances can help you feel more safe in your body and in your life." And, of course, there are the relentless other concerns: society, the future, now two (!) children that I feel solely responsible for, and the declining/potentially declining health of in-laws and parents. 

Tonight there's a dinner that I'm supposed to go to for one of my capstone sites tonight where I'll be introduced and probably have to say a little something about what I want to do. And what is that exactly? Design and run groups I guess and explain what occupational therapy is! We'll see how coherent I am. Hopefully it'll be okay. The coordinator person has been forewarned! 

*That's been a big theme of all the Unitarian stuff; connection, community...so much so that the pastor was asked by someone else in the class what the Unitarian Universalist stance on sin was and she said it depends on who you ask (no official party line there), but for her sin was cutting off from community. And I don't feel the best about that thought; what about people who are nonverbal? Have a mental health episode where they just aren't able to connect with others? I probably should have asked some followup questions because hopefully she didn't mean that all disconnection from community was sinful and intentional, but I do feel a bit attacked because my god do I struggle with connection and community. I can show up, I can do things, I can try to talk to you all normal, and maybe have some good conversations (hopefully!), I can therapize in the right context, but I cannot really feel connection at this time (in all but a few cases). I have not intentionally gotten together with a friend since my birthday and I do not feel like that counts because parties are high-masking situations for me. And I'm sad about that, but I haven't forced myself. And there are nice glimmers here and there anyway without the planning; conversations with newer friends who are parents of my daughter's friends, being able to see people at work that I enjoy, and that might really be my limit most of the time. I do miss/grieve specific interactions with specific friends, but haven't had a moment to dwell on it or exert free will to change the circumstance. Anyway. Three weeks of fieldwork left. Maybe after that...?

You'll Get It a Day Late or a Month Early - There's Really No In-Between

While I'm a little too young to really grasp the alleged splendor of "Everyone's Free to Wear Sunscreen", I do wonder if playing it on all channels/streaming services simultaneously might not heal all of Gen X in one fell swoop. Worth a try, I say.

These past two weeks have been fairly productive and I'm feeling hella emo which, of course, means clicking through elderemo.com and guiltily listening to between 1 and 3 Brand New songs. And somehow remixes of that new T Swift Ophelia song have weaseled their way into my subconscious. So that too.

If I could drop money (and felt like risking flying) to go see a concert I'd probably go see Iggy Pop/The Linda Lindas, Martha Wainwright, Patrick Wolf or Chappell Roan. But I just don't see how air traffic controllers can possibly hang in there for that much longer. And Chappell Roan is just too big and expensive now. I should have jumped on that Back In the Day if I ever wanted that to happen.

List format:

- Still tired!
- Finally sick, probably from fieldwork, with a Classic Cold (tm)
- Can't really breathe at night which is a bummer
- All bloodwork came back and it's looking like a girl, which I am kind of relieved about*
- It finally snowed, which may not sound like good news, but it feels like it
- S is still taking L to school in the morning and that's still going well which means I can channel that energy into other things which is Wow So Much Better
- Fieldwork is going...okay? They seem to like me and I'm learning and having fun for the most part? Wewt wewt
- Actually went swimming on Monday
- My friend who is an OB seems to think that I can go to graduation two weeks post-C-section! Should I? Probably not! But will I? ...probably!
- The wheels fell off spooky movie season at the end and I can't even know how to care
- Why am I like this?
- Maybe this is interesting, maybe not, but impulsivity and executive function may be two separate systems if I understand correctly (but who knows) and one system is impulsivity/reactivity and the other is a reflective/deliberative system. Which makes sense...but I never thought of it exactly that way before. Look! An article!
- I've been working on my capstone plan pretty seriously because I thought it was due last Friday. Apparently not! I was an entire month early. Which is good, because I didn't actually get it done by Friday. So...woo?
- When I get hungry it's not really hunger it's more of a...sick feeling? And I never know what I want to eat. It's very much a Bill Hader gif moment.

Early morning phone call on Monday with the scheduling person at the dentist because I neglected to reschedule a dental appointment for L until The Last Minute. I got my debit card out for the reschedule fee and there was...nothing but silence for a good three minutes while I waited for further instructions. I finally said, "Are you still there?"
"Yes."
"...what are the next steps?"
"There's a reschedule fee."
"Oh, okay. ... Are you ready for the card number?"
"Yeah."
🙄
I get that I am in the wrong in this situation (reschedule the damn appointment within the first 10 times you think about it, Clara!), but - damn. I have never experienced the Gen Z Stare over the phone before. 

Wild times.

I'm currently at something called OWL, which is a Unitarian lifespan sexuality education class. L is not keen on going, and this is her second session. I stayed in for the first session, which was a hard sell, because I signed her up without her permission (direct quote, but I can't use quotation marks because that just seems sarcastic). Which is valid, but I do think it's important, I don't think I'm going to be able to do it because I am a shell of a person**, I don't think the school district is going to take up the slack here, and I would really rather not my parents or in-laws do it. So here we are!

This week I get to stay out and work on my capstone and blather on here because it was quote embarrassing unquote when I stayed in the room last week and we're headed to The Mall after this, which will hopefully not be too overstimulating for me. 

Hm. What else?

It's sunny today. I've started to get a tiny bit of energy back. I still don't want to announce the pregnancy. but I have started compiling a list of things - which is kind of like progress.

Spooky month is over; my goal for November is to laugh. That's it, that's the whole thing.

*  TL/DR: I don't think I can really deal with society's machismo right now, and definitely not Society's Machismo That Lives In My Own Family.
Here's the thing: I do, as a matter of fact, like AMAB people (boys). I specifically do pretty well with hyperactive boys and autistic boys. I also have this set of beliefs about Being a Boy that have been shaped by experience and are as likely wrong as right but the upshot of those are things like: "I can never really know what it's like to be another person, but maybe especially not a boy/man." "Being a boy involves a specific type of pressure and set of expectations that vary from culture to culture but which are usually homogenous and super-negatively impact mental/emotional health and oh by the way most cultures don't offer significant emotional/mental health help to boys/men." Which isn't to say that boys/men aren't, culturally speaking, powerful and that raising Good Men(tm) isn't important. It fucking is. And huge thank you's to the men I know who are The Literal Best whether that be through nature, nurture or a combination. But all that to say I don't believe this to be the right time, place, or combination of people (family, extended family) to provide a male child with the stuff he needs to be successful in The Apocalypse. Woof. I don't think I explained that well. Shutting up now.

**Yeah, I don't know. I'm a hundred percent depressed. Possibly in some type of neurodivergent burnout? They make us fill out this little Wellness Wheel in school and mine looks...not that bad, actually...but some important things are missing like friendships and self-care. And what, exactly, is there to do about any of that? I. Am. Stuck. Actually. Things keep coming up that point me in the philosophical direction of "Okay, well, in order to do anything about anything the first step is to take accountability for your role in why you feel the way you do/why your life is the way it is." Which is great and all, but I'm definitely in the pre-contemplation phase. It's hard to string two thoughts together much less have a whole self-examen about autonomy, volition, and phase of life.

May All Your Hogswatches Be Bright

 It's finally behaving more like winter here, which is an odd thing to be excited about. Fall used to be my favorite season, but in the past decade autumn leaves and the smell of tree decay has become more strongly associated with nausea and fatigue and I guess I just haven't done a good job of taking life by the horns and steering it in the direction of: pumpkin patches, hot cider, walks down idyllic trails (and they are idyllic!), and Souptober (or Souptember if you have hard time waiting).

I've been able to manage ~3 Tasks per day on off days which is up from ~1 task per day on fieldwork days. Yesterday's tasks looked like: dishes/kitchen, folding the horrendous backlog of laundry, cleaning and tidying the dining room and kitchen/dining room floors. 

It doesn't sound like much, really. But, I guess, we also went to a playdate at the trampoline park with L's new friend A but had to switch venues because of a small electrical fire. Luckily it was sunny and the kids are Alaskan so we just pivoted to a nearby park at a balmy 41 degrees. Then I picked up my salads for the week* and we finally picked up some incense at the local magic store.

Oh hey - it was the second No Kings rally yesterday! For some reason news outlets don't seem to be reporting numbers just saying it was "comparable to the last one", but from the pictures it actually looked a little bigger. Anyway. Thousands! I didn't go, but S did after work. He says it's very heartening, but I continue to be concerned about things like ICE being sighted and starting to do stuff in Anchorage. 

I was listening to Factually the other day and he and his guest were discussing the enshittification of America - and I agree, as boomer-like as it makes me feel. It was sort of reassuring to hear that, yes, the internet used to be more open sandbox, it used to be easier to find content related to what you actually wanted to find versus getting shunted down the bottleneck of what search engines want you to find (which is probably unrelated - no matter how good you are at plugging in search terms). And anyway, that's how I learned about Kagi and I'm going to get a subscription, I think, because I need to be doing some research going into my capstone and Duck Duck Go goes...pretty far...but maybe not as far as I would like. 

Also this week lots of I've Had It which is refreshingly left-wing but also registers as kind of Rush Limbaugh-ey if that makes sense.

Hm. What else. I've made these 2-3 times this past week and I think we're going to make it at home today (energy permitting). Oh - and they are pretty fucking easy and pretty fucking good! ...and pretty kid-friendly to make, if that's helpful to know.

The girl from my childhood homeschool group who was missing has been found and is safe, so that's good! I forget if I mentioned that in previous posts. If I didn't: she was missing - somewhere in Texas. But isn't anymore. 👍👍

Alright. Time to take some Tylenol and get ready for humanist church.

*I have the desire to eat salad, but lack of desire/executive function to make it, so I've been ordering and picking up salads from a local pizza joint. I'm sure they wonder wtf is going on with that, but they don't care enough to ask questions. Salad but no pizza? Yes. Mind. Ya business.

Robin Williams Really Does Hold Up

Do you remember that moment in the mid-to-late aughts when, at the end of yoga classes, the instructor would circulate the classroom and rub peoples' feet with scented oil while they lay in savasana? Kind of bananas to think that that was ever a thing - because: feet. Ew.

I'm feeling a little better the past couple of days because S has started dropping L of at school in the morning. I cannot overstate how nice this is. I went to a doctor's appointment on Tuesday early in the morning and dropped L off at school right before (for the last time in a little while, I guess), and had pretty fucking high blood pressure by the time I rolled into the office. They took it again at the end and it was 20 points lower on the systolic side and, anyway, my point is that the morning rush out the door is the most stressful. One time I even copped a nosebleed on the way out the door! That hasn't happened in a while, but if we could take that off my plate I think everyone would benefit ok thanks.

Fieldwork continues to go pretty okay; the last day with my first FW educator is this Friday and I suppose I should write a nice thank you note and hopefully I'll get my life together enough to do this. He was nice if not exactly the kind of teacher I vibe with, and hopefully writing the deadline down will be enough to make it real in my head.

The world is still on fire, idk if you know; I can't find it in my heart to be too excited about the Israel/Gaza current uneasy peace because is this administration really going to finally resolve millennia of conflict? To that I say: ha. And: no. And: no, I couldn't do any better but that's not really in my job description anywhere and that's on purpose because if nothing else I try to be realistic. Blame it on the northeastern European epigenetics if you like.

Spooky movie fest has predictably veered off the rails a bit, but I'm okay with it. I saw Something Wicked This Way Comes for the first time recently and L chose Matilda for her pick last night because: "She controls things with her mind; that's kind of spooky!" Okay. I would have tried to sell it with The Trunchbull a little more, but you do you, boo! My turn tonight (or tomorrow night because we've been shit at watching an entire movie in a sitting), and she's too young for Rocky Horror so I'll have to think about it a little bit. What's the right age for Rocky? Uh....how about...11? Yeah. 11.

Otherwise I am watching Season 9 of LIB (finished the French season - it seemed relatively mature, but perhaps that was just because je nais parlez) but it's more of a compulsion at this point and I do put it on 1.25x speed because Colorado, man.

Okay, better go get (only myself - omg!) ready for the day. Skibidi Ohio rizz let's go, etc.

If I Could Teach the World To Sing In Perfect Harmony, Would They BE Teachable?

Thank the goddess for Spotify and that things like nausea relief frequency are readily available on Spotify. And that I've never gotten around to cancelling my Spotify Premium over the years. This morning I was sat on a stool in my kitchen and just couldn't move. Because I just...didn't feel good.

L: "Are you feeling okay?"
Me: "No, not yet."

I made it out the door in time to be 10 minutes late after vomiting up everything I had for breakfast and dinner the night before. Why is this how humans reproduce, again? This is a stupid system. My CI is underatnding, thank goodness. I've only had to excuse myself from 5 minutes of one session today for the morning sickness. The bathroom I chose had BM in the toilet just chilling when I got there. Today's...just Not It, in a lot of ways. I pulled the 8 of Swords and that's been on the nose. I risked having goldfish and jello for lunch. L let me borrow her water bottle because I left mine at home. And I'm having the little bit of black coffee I am allowed to have. We'll see how all that goes.

L's started making some friends at her new school - which is good! A little boy, evidently, who is either in 2nd or 3rd grade (we're not sure) but is in the same math level as herself. I did the whole send the phone number with L so she can pass it to whomever she wants to really so we can schedule a playdate. Well, yet again, the person in charge of scheduling a playdate on the friend's end is the dad. And a divorced dad at that. And I feel anxious because I feel in some way S is going to take issue with this and start some nonsense because L just happened to hit it off with this one particular kid in this one particular situation.

He's still taking issue with the situation in which I was fielding scheduling playdates with the dad of someone in L's former class who also happens to live in our neighborhood and frequents neighborhood playgrounds. As in: I feel like I've been forced to ghost this perfectly awesome family who L asks about every once in awhile. I can't really tell her, "Oh. Your dad doesn't understand that other families sometimes (or, in my personal experience, often) put the dads in charge of arranging playdates and thinks I am flirting with them! I am not, but he isn't able to comprehend that, so now I can't communicate with her parents and he refuses to. Sorry, honey! Better luck with your generation."

And Anchorage is a small town. We're probably going to run into them again and, as a matter of fact, I already have run into the youngest sibling of the family at my fieldwork placement in passing - they just don't really know who I am which is fortunate - but my point remains. Same neighborhood. Small town. Why you gotta be like that?

Someone else, probably: but surely you have options, Clara! You could stand up for yourself and do This Thing if you wanted to! You know what? Good point- and I probably could, but past experience suggests that that would just make my home life much less pleasant and while it's improved quite a lot I just don't think I can take the hit right now. 

All I was supposed to do is hang in there until I graduate and get my feet on the ground and can think for a minute and feel secure, and I suppose I am doing that, but I am now doing that while feeling extra-crummy with, if I don't miscarry, yet another child for whom to be responsible. O, Fortuna. I guess.

I did have a small epiphany at (field)work, though; I like kids. I'm not mad at the prospect of having another kid per se, it's the absence of choice and the overall situation I take issue with. Overall situation being factors like quality of home life, my brain not being choice (and me realizing the extent to which it isn't, now), and the world at large, etc. But I like (most) kids*.

Okay. Young Sheldon kid, then my kid, then a chill kid, then the weekend. We can do this! ...even if we shouldn't.

*And most (but not all) kids like me too; I am aware that second children tend to bring the curveballs relative to first children, so I'm under no illusions there, I suppose.

Rusty

This just feels like the wrong timeline. On many levels.

Sleep is one of my favorite things. While it always has been, these days it's because 1) dreams 2) I wake up feeling rested - at least for a little while 3) I don't feel nauseous, get body chills or tired when I'm asleep. The dreams themselves have been diverse lately. Pineapples growing on top of the house, taking a packed plane to the "town hall of Alaska" (whatever that is?) as part of going to the state fair and running into people I knew from preschool teaching. One kid was climbing high on a sign suspended at the top of a hangar and the sign fell. Don't worry they weren't injured, though.

We're three days into Halloween (?) movie fest 2025 and have so far watched Spirited Away, Addam's Family Values, and The House With a Clock In Its Walls.

Fieldwork is still going okay! Most of the sessions I've conducted this week have been fun, and documentation is a lot less laborious under the system they have at the clinic - and there's been enough downtime for me to work on a student project I'm working on with M. She's someone in my cohort who's at the same placement. It's been nice having a familiar face around. And work with!

S texted on Thursday saying he'd been asked to leave town again. This is surprising because we'd discussed leaving town previously as absolutely not being an option; it ended up being that he just needed to talk it through a little before coming to the conclusion that no, that's not a good idea no matter how much extra money it is. Maybe I'll regret the decision, but we've already had talks about how if there's going to be a new kid he definitely needs to help more because there are very hard limits as to how much I can do - especially in the first trimester. And so far he's taken over grocery shopping and occasional dishes which has been very helpful.

I think at one point during the conversation I said, "Well, plus you were supposed to take over dropping L off at school at some point." And he was like, "Oh, yeah." And...it's not that I can't. It's more that I need to know that he'll do what he's said he'll do. Everybody needs that. Anyway, ultimately he told his company he wouldn't be able to go. So that's that until next time.

The Guv'ment Allegedly Doesn't Want Us Grinding Our Own Wheat, I Guess?

Bit of a dichotomy really; I feel a lot better than I did (thanks, Seabands, Miralax, and V8!) and I still feel Not Great. 

I find myself being jealous of S's current...idk...fitness journey? I felt like I was starting to get into a good rhythm with working out, feeling stronger, using the sauna etc. etc. and now, of course, I don't have the energy and often feel too sick to do it. I'm currently aiming for ~30 minutes every other day. That seems to be going okay so far. Maybe we add more back in this coming week.

Told K about the pregnancy last week and we texted back and forth about it a little bit. It went about how I thought it would. Just okay! Congratulations, and an undertone of "are you sure this is what you want?" which - no. I would go so far as to say I'm sure I don't. But things are okay enough as far as I know that I don't feel there's a reason to terminate. I don't think I'd be able to handle the guilt from that, honestly.

And - that's it. I haven't really told anyone else. I don't really want to? I don't want to fuck with all the Events that come with childbirth in 'murica and most of my friends/acquaintances are in different times of their lives when it comes to this. Of the 4-ish couples that come to mind, one pair is having grandchildren, one pair is consciously childfree (they like children, just don't want to bring any into the world in Trump's America), one pair is in the 8-11 year-old territory and doing shit like buying fancy campers and planning family trips and considering buying a cabin, and one has three kids but are in their late-40s early-50s. So I guess if my mother feels like doing it for me - great! But if not, Target is amazing about delivering things like diapers and carseats to your doorstep.

Saw the Gabby's Dollhouse Movie and it was purrr-etty great. I'm glad they got Kristen Wiig for it and I'm glad they're addressing the unavoidable thematic element of Gabby growing up. I'm glad I got to cry through much of it because this is, apparently, what I do in movie theaters now. 

L (7) today, "I wish you could never die." Thanks, kid. Don't worry, she also does the regular kid stuff like yell and be grouchy. But it's nice and I want to remember it, because time moves so damn fast.

An upside of parenthood is that I do believe it's brought me more joy than most of the rest of my life. Not in the moment usually (there are studies corroborating this I believe), but there are moments of pure joy that my emo neurodivergent self wasn't, apparently, capable of accessing without her kid(s). 

Like, I wasn't happier necessarily going to see a movie by myself (or even with friends) than I am seeing a movie with a kid and being privy to their unfiltered joy. I wasn't happier necessarily, going to the rock gym with my guy friend and then getting beers afterward whenever I wanted to (outside of work and rehearsal, obvi) than I am now. And maybe medication has something to do with it? But also, maybe it's the kid.

I also think teaching preschool and now getting to OT kids is pretty therapeutic for me. Not necessarily therapeutic but fun: one of the aforementioned kids is, for most if not all intents and purposes, basically Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. Did you know that was a thing that could happen? I did not! Wild. Thrilling, really!

Hey guess what: one option for treating ADHD that I was not aware of previous to starting this rotation is guanfacine; evidently it works by decreasing heart rate and relaxing blood vessels. Usually I feel like it's stimulant this, stimulant that so it's an intriguing option as we get closer to the point where L will likely need medication because: society.

What Doesn't Kill You Has a Variable Effect

I do kind of remember the sensations from last time; to sum up: a flu. Or COVID? Not the strain where you throw up repeatedly, more the one where you sleep a lot (or wish you could), and may barf at any time. What do you want to eat? Do you want to eat? Is what you think you want to eat nutritionally dense enough to fuck with given the metabolic needs of *gestures broadly*? Also, it feels like you have a low-grade fever at all times. Maybe you do! Who the fuck knows.

L has been very helpful and understanding. This morning she made me some tea and decided my forehead needed a wet compress because it was "burning up". She also said that she doesn't remember anything from babyhood but, "I know one thing: babies come out whether they're ready or not".

This rotation has been pretty chill so far. I keep running into people that L knows that I know she knows, and it's a little bit of a bummer to not be able to say "Hey, I saw into Kid X today!" I don't think it violates HIPAA to put it here, though? Might get redacted. We'll see.

There are some diagnoses (and ages) that I'm not as confident on and my CI is very nice, but I have been a combination of too nauseous to ask good questions and kind of settling into thinking of interventions to try out with the kids, and he's so chill he doesn't always volunteer information between patients and they are, as I thought, back-to-back-to-back which means that there's no time to talk in-between patients. I think it'll be okay, though. Probably? I should get some level of energy around Thanksgiving. So maybe the last two weeks of fieldwork will be Gucci. I sure hope so - because I have some sort of project to do (?).

I feel like I should say something about the news, because that's been filling the spare corners of my brain; I don't have very many of those, though. For example, I deadass forgot I had a haircut scheduled for last Saturday despite several reminders and writing it in two places. What triggered the reminder? Driving past the hairdresser's former house. 

Many people have said it. But they're right. This is how it begins - fascism. It's actually far past begun. We're pretty far down the path. So. So, so, so. So. Colbert. Kimmel. Eventually all news outlets? I know the aim is to make The Left despair (and don't worry - I do!), and to keep on keeping on and believe that we can make a difference with protests and grassroots political action. And I definitely do hope that! Sincerely. And I think I see the setup because, yes, I come from Christian Nationalist roots and those peeps play the long game. There's a reason the vice president is so young. There are reasons why Congress and the Senate are behaving so spinelessly (I don't know what they are, but I'm sure they're mega-shitty). There is an ocean of justification available to people who believe they are doing the Lord's work. But I don't need to tell you that.

Dreams: I dreamt that I had a toddler and he was throwing my makeup brushes away; I was at my therapist's and trying to express my frustration with the situation. She said it was my fault and got irritated at me for getting frustrated. I dreamt that there was a reunion at Belhaven; I was sitting at a long table next to someone I went to school with who IRL is or was in politics (and no, I did and do not much care for this person). I gradually realized everyone who was seated at the table was a theater person and that this was the theatre department reunion. I was having a good-enough time, but realized I wanted to get to the dance department reunion. I left the room and started making my way through an abstracted version of the commons. I found the voice department (not a thing), and passed by engineering and computer sciences. I made it outside and started walking across campus towards the arts building. It was so dark I couldn't see anymore and made it as far as an open window covered in cobwebs. I was meant to climb through it, but couldn't. I realized that I could just go back to where I parked and drive around to the arts building, but didn't want to backtrack. Then I woke up. 

Meat Might Be Murder, but Not the Fun Kind (e.g., Knives Out, etc.)

Okay. Whew. Time moves relentlessly forward. I'm still processing. And aren't we all, always? But I'm slowly getting there. Where? Wherever three steps ahead is.

I started my second-to-last fieldwork yesterday; so far so good! It's fine! It's nice, actually. I like the Doing What I'm Meant to be Doing as a Distraction from the Other Things. Which, arguably I'm also meant to be doing, but also? Maybe not! Maybe all is choice and distraction! That's right - all!

I suppose I should write a little bit about Charlie Kirk. I think it's pretty obvious what my reaction is/should be, though. My main thought is: "They finally got their martyr." My other main thought is: "What about Melissa Hortman and her husband?" With my third being: "What about the school shooting that occurred the same day?" Oh, and I guess, with a dash of: "What about this alleged lynching at Delta State University?" 

I was telling S about that last one and he said, "It says it was suicide." Oh. Are we just trusting the Mississippi police force now? The lynching part is alleged; but the timing is fucking weird, so is the location, and that track record is, if not the worst, up there, man.

</conspiracy theories>

I am nauseous a lot. I am tired a lot. I am still working out because it is something I was already doing and I don't really want to stop (mentally filed under d for distraction) and I have a hard line about doing one thing per day chores-wise; I've been trying to have consistent and clear conversations with S about the fact that he's likely gonna need to help me if he wants anything additional done, because now we are definitely In It and not necessarily to win it.

He says he understands how I feel; and I think he believes that. But it is not really possible for him to, in the same way that I don't understand how he feels regarding addiction, and being separated from two of his children the vast majority of the year, etc. Things are overall better, but the upshot of one of our last conversations on the topic of Why Are You (me) So Feelings At This Time? was that I need to find someone to talk to. Yes! Probably. But I am systemically reluctant to tell people about this pregnancy. So far I have told the bare minimum number of people that need to know. Not because I'm concerned about miscarriage per se, but because I don't have the bandwidth for all that.

I also feel some shame about it, because it doesn't really make sense to trust that someone else will tke care of the fertility problem for me; yes, it sucks that assurances were not kept, but ultimately that's just information. If I want to not have further children, then I need to do it for myself.

I wish at this point in my life my underlying lifelong sense that I need to Do Shit For Myself and Be Independent would have been assuaged, but I made choices that shunted me in the opposite direction. 

Alright, I have to hop on a phone call in which I probably divulge information that doesn't support an ICAP case for a client I saw as a student, but okay, Alaska.

Besos.

Well, Fuck.

I just need to process. I didn't have this on my bingo card for this year, and I'm super-sad. Surprised. And lowkey angry at S. Since I gave birth 7 years ago, he's been supposed to get a vasectomy. As recently as March he's said he wants to do it and would do it (soon!). 

Well, guess what? He didn't. And I'm pregnant. I woke up at 3:00 AM this morning feeling as though something was amiss. I'm only a few days past when I should have menstruated, but that test is still positive.

So. Now what?

S: "What do you want to do?"

"Why the fuck is this all on me?" is my deep-down question. And I'm the worst at answering that question. What do I want to do? I want to live deliciously and be left the fuck alone, honestly. I do not want to be pregnant, but I do not want to terminate a pregnancy. 

Can we afford another kid? In this economy? Probably not. But - everything's fucked, really. 

Do I want to go through labor again? Absolutely not. Do I want to go through postpartum again? Again, no. And you can pry my meds from my cold, dead hands. (It appears as though there is some risk of congenital heart defects from bupropion), but that these are not well-substantiated and there haven't been human trials for obvious reasons.

S just...wasn't great during postpartum. Who's to say this time will be any different? Less than six months ago I was regretting having the first child with him, honestly. 

Both our parents are significantly older and won't be able to help out/have relationship with this kid relative to what L has/had.

And...I love L. I truly can't imagine life with two kids (or more, I guess; the older you get the more likely it is to drop multiple eggs in one go). It's really hard to explain. I know that once the kid comes, then life rearranges itself and things are challenging (and traumatic to be so real) but fine, but...I don't feel like I'm the best parent on earth right now. And I don't think adding another child to the mix will make things easier. It just won't!

But I don't think I can terminate a life just because it's inconvenient for me. Blame the early conditioning. Some things are hard to shake. I think I could if there was medical complexity that we thought would make them incompatible with life. 

*sigh*

I hate being in this position. 

And, too, there's a sense of: well. That seems about right. That's how it goes. Surprise babies happen right about...here in life.

I don't have a sense of joy. Just sadness. I can't imagine being heavily pregnant and at API. Jesus. 

Right now it's just: cry once a day and breathe and try to act "normal" despite not wanting to do literally anything (and I don't).

What else has been going on, you might ask?

School's been going better for L. She's also slightly more willing to read aloud to me which had been great. The cat continues to stay in one location on the couch (unless she needs food). 

I haven't been as motivated to cook (shocking!), but I'm going to try (I think) to make Campfire Chicken tonight. I think that means you just wrap the chicken bits in foil and bake it in the oven with various veggies. I think it's the dishes and touching varied textures that truly gives me the ick.

Oh, and I just got back from a dentist appointment at which I felt kinda overall shitty because most of the information I got about my cleaning I gleaned from reading the chart over my dental hygienist's shoulder. They are getting overall more concerned about my teeth grinding and asked about a mouthguard, suggesting I wear one during "the more stressful periods of my life" (hah). I almost started to get into it with them about how I sometimes deal with it with K-Tape, but one (younger, I think?) ambivalent doctor started monologuing about how he wasn't sure if I should or shouldn't get a filling and ended up deciding yes (I think?) but didn't really communicate this well and my poor hygienist was like, "Do you understand? Do you have any questions?" with the mien that she thought I had had a good talking to and should be ashamed of the state of my teeth - and maybe I should be!

I just typed a whole defensive-type paragraph out and then deleted it. Fine. I'll take accountability. But things are probably not going to radically improve because life is about to get a whole lot more stressful. So maybe save the Come to Jesus for someone whose heart is open. Because that ain't me, babe.

Okay. The only things I can really do this morning are chores, get ready to volunteer for boxing, and maybe mosey on over to tell my mom about The Situation if she happens to get home from her bible study before the boxing thing.

The one friend who I have (directly) told is pretty stoked - in part because she's an OB/GYN and that's kind of her wheelhouse. But then she doesn't really know what's been going on the past year+ with myself and S, either. So there's that. 

I think I can tolerate telling one person a day. I know the chance of miscarriage is high due to my age, etc. But I kind of think that won't happen. We'll see I guess. I've tried to prepare L for the eventuality.

Okay, bye. Enjoy the warmth and sunshine if you have it! Lord knows there's none here.

In Sync

Recovering from a burlesque show is a little like recovering from the flu; a small flu, but it still requires rest. One still feels as though hit by a bus. And the day after one (I) feel a bit better.

It went well! I didn't get injured! Those were the main things. Phenomenal crowd! As far as I know, there hasn't been any emotional fallout from S (he came to the show and supported, and brought a friend who is pretty protective of him in relationship to our issues) which I also take as a win. The entire time I thought I must be missing something...forgetting something...something was going to go wrong.... But actually, I didn't forget anything except to put my mic pack in my wig instead of putting it on my corset and I didn't beat myself up about it either. Enormous win for bupropion!

I've started listening to Untangled by Lisa Damour because I assume that hormones are due to hit anytime between next May and...the end of time. And I also assume that there are some unhealed parts (arrested development, maybe) that could benefit from some self-parenting. So far there have been some tears. I do want to steer away from enmeshment as best I can. And do want to enjoy healthy mother-daughter closeness until it becomes time for distance to develop. So.

Otherwise, I don't feel much like doing anything. I am! I'm doing the gross paperwork and booking the hotel in Omaha for if/when I graduate, and doing the dishes and folding the laundry and headed out to volunteer at the Parkinson's "boxing" class this afternoon. The quotes are because I don't think the person teaching it is planning on it being very structured. At least, as per what they said the last time I saw them.

Okay. Time to find and/or generate motivation.

Glitter? Check.

Things grow to occupy the available space. They just do. I'm off work/school, sure, but my house isn't immaculate (yet); how much caffeine would it take to get it spotless and keep it spotless? More than I have the capacity to ingest. Probably.

With no notice that I specifically recall getting (but - who knows? The emails, they crash like waves and it becomes increasingly hard to differentiate between or comprehend them.) the student insurance is no longer covering dependents and I missed the window to continue L's health benefits from Starbucks with COBRA so here the fuck we are, I guess. I hopped my geriatric ass on the healthcare.gov portal and filled it out until we got to the part where I need S's income information. Mine's pretty easy: I do not currently make money and do not, currently, anticipate making any more in 2025. There! Done. *sigh* I do understand that there are some drawbacks to universal healthcare, but really? Lol, not to the extent that makes me not want it.

Right now I'm post-drop-off (it's been going better; but three negative-ish things happened during drop-off and then I felt like a monster), post-trip to the University library for printing, post-hot yoga class (good, but I felt even more monster-ish because I didn't know how or where to sign up and wasn't technically on the waitlist and other people were, but everyone made it into class anyway so it was fine), post-finishing dishes for the morning, post-starting laundry, post-making the list of ingredients I need to make potato lasagna tonight, post-plugging in the schedule I just got from my CI, and post-tech rehearsal for this one show I'm in this weekend. 

It felt so nice to be home again, in the burlesque space. I feel lucky to still be "allowed" to perform and do what the fuck ever I want on stage! And I am lucky all of the time. But it doesn't always feel like it, you know?

I was behind a woman with a shirt that said "Child of God" on the back and referenced a psalm (unclear on which one; my dyscalculia makes it difficult to retain numbers and number orders). It reminded me of that one time I went to Sedona and got a 90 second reading from someone who said they talked to...fairies? I have no further intel on the what and why of all that, but she did say that they wanted to reassure me that I am a child of God. That makes sense, retroactively, in a way; I've always had lots of anxiety around the concept of predestination (which I was raised with) and fear of powerlessness and pain and going to hell. Maybe it was just a little: "Shush. Do your best. You're okay. Just do your best."

And I'm trying to do my best. Even if my best is not all that great. 

Mess

Seeing the future's not all it's cracked up to be
Because I can't tell you what's going to happen
Only freak you out by pushing you out of the way
Of an oncoming train
That you can't see

I can't tell you much, really, except "I love you"

There Are No Words In the English Language That Could Drown You Out

 I was leaving the Parkinson's boxing group on Thursday and there was a man on a makeshift pedestal on the corner with big Cali Swag District energy. He had the air of a man about to teach me how to Dougie.

Hurricane Katrina is in the news a lot lately; I remember the trees getting blown over in Jackson around the Belhaven neighborhood. I also remember not being particularly fussed about it. Should have been! Wasn't. But that's what happens when you barely pay attention AT ALL and grew up in tornado country. I remember reenacting Sin City with three other kids while the power was out. We make our own entertainment, dammit. I am a little sad that I never went to New Orleans until after Katrina, but them's the breaks.

Sushi and karaoke tonight. I just realized today that I have about a week to get my shit together re: a show next weekend. SOUNDS RIGHT. Eek.

I took an aqua Zumba class this morning and I'll be honest - I'm not sure what Zumba is. Because I did Pacific Islander dance in a pool is what happened. And he also threw in some folk dance moves from...Spain, maybe? I felt like he was liable to ask us to haka, but he did not. Where were you when you first learned of haka? For me it was dance...culture? History? One of those.

We went to the fair yesterday and it was...fun? Not crowded? Apparently officially cosplay day (damn; missed the memo) and unofficially Russian Orthodox day. Note to self: get more tickets next year.

Blame It On the Microchimerism

Dropping L off at school the last few days has been hard; the separation anxiety is strong and I hope I'm doing right by her. 

I am, by and large, enjoying this time. Cycles of home improvement, working out, cleaning, cooking, dropping L off at school, picking up, volunteering.... Not perfect, of course, but it's going okay.

I'm turning 39 tomorrow; I am having feelings about that. Frustration, mostly. Some gratitude and astonishment at making it this far. Some fear because the more I know, the more it seems like Body Shit Can Go Wrong. Before it was just brain stuff that could go wrong! Also CPTSD. And shouldn't I have my shit together by now? At nearly fucking 40? It's not going to be cutesy and "39 and feeling fine!", that's for sure. More like, "39 and feeling freaked the fuck out because I am more aware of the state of the world and politics than I've ever been before". Woof.

L is taking violin lessons. Kinda! I say kind, because the music place is just...not getting back to me. I am free-falling into a void. I have sent the email and logged on to the portal, like, once, and been unable to log on since then for reasons that have not been clarified. I have left two voicemails. I have not paid them and wish to. And schedule future lessons. And, actually, at this point, maybe not that last one! L likes this teacher, which is the only thing keeping me hanging on. Otherwise there does seem to be another option, but I feel like we're about to miss our window for that unless The Teacher or The Teacher's Boss gets back to us in...oh...I don't know. 48 hours. How about 48 additional hours? Okay. Plan acquired.

For my birthday I'm going out for sushi and rented a karaoke room. One of the signs of the impending apocalypse! (Mostly) Sober karaoke! Because my brain is the way it is and also my C/PNS, I didn't get the shit together to book the room and invite the people until ~1 week before the event, but I still have one yes and one probably. But I also have one no response at all, and of course I am a bit sad about that. Despite knowing that there could be a million and one reasons why no response and that's totally something I would do. For that reason I pulled some tarot cards for "Why do I have trouble making/keeping friends easily?" and my tarot deck was basically like: "Girl, you get in your own way. And also: you fucking know this I don't know why you're coming at me with this shit!" By which I mean: The Devil. I pulled the devil. As is customary I pulled two more cards which are meant to be the, "Okay, what do I do about this, then?" For which I pulled the 6 of Pentacles followed by The Sun. Which means: "Receive help and ask for help; give and receive time, resources, and emotion (6 of pentacles) and things will be amaaaaaazing (The Sun)." Lord. Fine. Occam's razor, I guess!

It's hard to laugh, lately. Idk why, really. Maybe you're isolating yourself, babe! See above.

This week has been all about taking fitness classes to get out of my comfort zone (and not [mentally] veg out while chilling on the treadmill; not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'm trying to do some cognitive stuff in tandem with physical stuff this week). So far I've taken Yoga Sculpt (secretly a HIIT class and a hot yoga class; with weights; didn't die, almost passed out; Monday), volunteered at a boxing class for people with Parkinson's (also Monday; idk why I thought it would be easy - it wasn't!), and Rock Bottom (Tuesday; fine! I can't bridge worth a damn on a Pilates ball but I would say that's approximately why I'm there; this was also the day of Taylor Swift's engagement so the teacher played Taylor Swifts songs the entire time. *sigh* It's fine. Fine. Fine.). 

I kind of binged (ironic?) the new Netflix documentary about The Biggest Loser. While working out, actually! For the first 2/3 anyway. It was a good watch. And - totally! You're not going to look like [insert celebrity of choice here] unless you make it your damn job to work out all the time. And the eating. God, the eating. Somewhat related: I got a half-hearted phone call from my brother yesterday and he was proud of losing 25 pounds. I wasn't happy for him. I don't like how obsessed my mom is with weight. I don't like the number she did on myself and him as far as being unhappy with our bodies. I don't like how she's extremely thin now, and I don't want to encourage him depriving himself of food given that he's in his 30s, working full-time and trying to support a family. Food choices and moving your body should be instrumental ADLs. The things you do to support your body and mind so you can do the things you want to do. 

As much as I blather on about working out? Girl, I'm not gonna be able to do that when I start working again. I'm just not! We'll be toning it way the fuck down because priorities will redistribute. And that's okay. It will be for endorphins and injury prevention, basically. It will not be because I want to look a certain way.*

I have to go and don't have an ending, but here's a little something about microchimerism to tide you over!

*To be fair, I do want to look differently than I do; however, I always have. Up to and including how my face looks and hair color and texture and, and, and. At the moment, I'm just kind of at peace with: I'm not my thing. I might be other peoples' thing! But also: I might not. And that's okay. Does it (my reflection) spark joy? Not always. But I am pretty damn grateful. End transmission.

Erie Like Pennsylvania, Not Like the Vibe

My brother's been almost impossible to get ahold of. He's working a full-time job on a weird schedule, and subsequently has not been able to continue attending jewelry school. That must be especially depressing, because he was only a semester away from graduating. The reasons for this are kind of...tale as old as time. They're homeschooling their four kids now because the school district they reside in is shitty, and while my SIL has a degree in Special Education (unsure which one) the district didn't want to pay her a teacher's salary for doing a teacher's job and so she felt taken advantage of. Which is probably true. And I feel bad for her, but perhaps moreso feel bad for my brother because: fucking so close to graduating!

I have two new holes in my ears now. This simultaneously was and wasn't a big deal; I think there has come a point where I'm just basically like: needles? Come at me with that. I do not give one single or singular solitary fuck. And too, sometimes I mistrust my pain threshold. Is it high? Am I full of shit? This was less for fun and games and more because I wanted to show L what it was like before she got her ears pierced. She was very sweet and reassuring during the whole thing and it didn't put her off getting her ears pierced. So that's good!

My cousin has a rare form of blood cancer. I don't know where else to put this.

When L did get her ears pierced it was still somewhat traumatic. I mean, it would be though. That shit hurts! And probably even more at the center of the lobe. The doctor was great, but I don't think we'll be going back for the next piercing (assuming there is one). The local piercing studio is just fine, thanks. Very welcoming, L got a sticker and a lollipop at the piercing studio and she didn't even get anything pierced. 

I got yet another flat tire the day before yesterday! What is the deal with that? I was telling my MIL and she was just aghast. She'd only ever got a flat tire once in her life, she said. And look at me with 5 in the last year! I have my suspicions. But in the current circumstances I wish the local flat tire repair service had a punchcard because Christ on a stick.

James Dobson dying has prompted quite a bit of discourse on the old Facebook/Instagram. It's interesting to see who did and didn't remark on his passing; nothing positive was shared on my algorithm at all, which is probably due to my carefully watering the grass I want to see grow (aka not rage-clicking on right wing agenda nonsense). 

Went to go see K-Pop Demon Hunters on the big screen last night. Only 10 people in the theater us included with the other 7 being tweens. There were whispers of friend drama yesterday and a medium-ish issue involving L's neighbor friend; her family decided to go on a walk without her while she was over at our house playing, but we needed to go pick up pizza by 4:11. 

It all turned out fine, but basically what had happened was that she told them she could stay until 5:30 (without asking me) and they completely neglected to tell either her or me that they were going for a walk. She's ten, so I suppose it might have been okay for her to stay at home alone, but she seemed anxious about it and explicitly said she didn't want to do it. At the end of the day I'm not going to force a kid to go home alone when they don't even want to. *sigh* The parents (well, the mom) was pretty apologetic, and so was I and, to be fair, I should check in more frequently around timelines. However, there's also the factor where they tend to communicate with me not at all (and vice versa) and I feel that this is a recurring issue. Typically it's presented by the neighbor kid as needing to check in with her parents and then giving me a time and asking if it's okay with me and me saying yes. I don't think this happened on this occasion, but maybe it did, but probably not because she was surprised by L having a different friend over for a playdate. Woof. Point is: be the adult, Clara, and more communication with the parents. Even if you really, really don't want to.

What IF God Was One of Us?

Sometimes I think of one kid in particular who articulate something extremely well when she transferred from her toddler classroom to mine; she said, "My old classroom loved me. Will you love me?" And that's the point, I think, with that type of anxiety; will you love me like they loved me? I didn't ask for this (change). I was gucci where I was. Where's my guarantee of love?

This week as last week I've been trying to ride the high of organizing things and trying to design and implement Systems before SAD kicks in and I go back to OT-ing kids. Sounds like there might be a higher percentage of feeding therapy, so that'll be interesting and kind of difficult. I wouldn't say my eating has ever been precisely ordered. And there's a part of my brain that kicks back pretty hard (Why are we doing this if they're healthy? What happened to fed is best?) but yes. I think it'll be necessary to learn about and go through.

Once things are basically organized the plan is to design, print, and implement visual schedules out the butt. Here a picture of what your room looks like when it's clean broken down by quadrant. Does it match? No? Well, get back in there, marine! Here a visual checklist of morning shit, there a visual checklist of nighttime shit. And we've added violin lessons in, so that's kind of nice. Probably need an intentional movement outlet, though. Did you know that it's relatively difficult to enroll a 7-year-old in softball in Alaska in common era 2025? Me either. I am so not a sporty-type person. It's like a whole different country.

There's been lots of gym time lately with no real noticeable results. 🤷 I feel better afterwards - I guess I'm going to continue going with that. It's probably good for my little brain hormones/NTs and it's where I get to watch my Inappropriate Television and walk briskly uphill to a playlist I made once upon a time for a class I briefly taught called Ballet For Bad Bitches. No further questions, your honor.

Actually, not a further question, but a further statement: V texted me to ask if 38 is too late to start getting into ballet and obviously not - go for it! I would just caution against jumping at all unless you have the Good Good insurance. 

With time I have to structure myself comes the need for podcasts and audio books to fill the time as regards repetitive tasks, and as far as that goes I've been striking out with the formulaic audio books* on Spotify premium. And I'm not always in the mood for golden age of radio podcasts.

Echo by Terry Moore was lit, though, and I've started on a promising hardboiled detective novel set in New Jersey that does have a drop-dead gorgeous POC 47-year-old female protagonist. 

Trying to keep it in the back of my mind that I need to continue working on capstone stuff during this off time. I need so much goddamn repetition to make it stick, though.

Okay. I'm off to enjoy this rainy day. 

*Why is there always a drop-dead gorgeous POC best friend? As a matter of fact, why aren't they the protagonist?

pack of gum in your pocket /where your ciggies used to be

 I can kind of see where the obsession with genealogy can start; one starts with oneself. Why am I like this? Genetics? It's genetics isn't it? And then casting your net wider and wider. Wondering how those people got from this place to that place. The questions pile up. And there aren't really any answers. Even if there were, what does it actually matter? Right? 

- How come my ancestors were Finn, but somehow not integrate any Slavic or Russian DNA?

- If we assume colonialism is how I have North African (Egyptian?) and Malayali DNA, what's the story with that? 

- Or is it actually some sort of Romani thing? 

-  Probably not, but I do have almost 10% of my DNA categorized as "broadly Northwestern European", so what's up with that?

- The side of the family with Indigenous Mexican ancestry shares the North African and Malayali ancestry. What does that mean?

I always used to say that I'm from the island of white people, and now I can get a little bit more specific about which recessive genes are fighting for their lives in my features and melanin. And I suppose I can just put it down and consider that my original sense that my ancestors were probably BAMFs (and not in a good way) might be true. But I somehow do not have any Spanish or Portuguese, and that is somewhat reassuring. Because: conquistadors.  

...this isn't what I thought I was going to write about today. But I am post-workout and chipping away at chores in a round and enjoying the silence/podcasts about medieval life. Today is thrift shop day which is somewhat thrilling. I swept out the Secret Attic yesterday, disposing of many many mosquito cadavers (why? Just...why mosquitos only? Why so many?) in the process and pulled out a shit ton of things to take to Fashion Pact and/or Value Village.

Our dumpster is full but not yet hauled away; I successfully cancelled the Old Internet (I think?) and next weekend is supposed to be The Fence-ening. My dad is quite excited about that. There's little he loves more than...fences.

Nothing more to report so far today; maybe tomorrow the tales of interest will be more plentiful. In the meantime imagine: L's first (and maybe last) violin lesson, a playdate with a young Gene Wilder (swear to god this kid is the spitting image; and temperament) and unfucking all the many Things I had in my car during summer because to be a Home Health pediatric OT is to have a lot of shit in your car.

DNR: Do Not Resuscitate, Return, or Read

We’re on “hold” from picking up kids from school which I guess means I just…wait for further notice? I’m quite nearby. It’s not a deal. But I'm camped out in the Kaladi's parking lot just chilling. Time to blog!

I wish things were not rift between E and K. I don't like being in the middle. I just want things to be okay. Can you tell I got coffee with E today? Yeah. I try to kind of keep my ears pricked up for any signs of dementia, but it's hard to tell because I just don't really get together with her that often. I need a rotating schedule of friends and family to keep an eye on. Just in case. E was super-sweet and talkative, but never remembers what I've been going to school for for the last few years (OT. It's OT. O.T.). But did get me a super-sweet tarot set for my birthday that I've been drooling over for years. She know me. We like that. 

Otherwise I've gone to the gym, finished off two seasons of Survival of the Thickest while trying to sort out the maelstrom of chaos that is L's bedroom. When telling E that L is a bit of a hoarder she said, "Well, at least you can control children somewhat, but you can't really do that with an adult." And to that I say: no, the fuck you cannot control either. And I think that might (perhaps) be one of the underlying ideas that has caused friction in her relationship with K.

Bestie we cannot control even ourselves. And you can take that to the bank. Which will then be closed. Because who goes to banks anymore? What are you listening to me for?*

Still waiting. Hm. Okay, I have been directed that we need to facilitate my MIL and FIL moving to Texas. They have a plan that involves moving to a care facility there because they are realistic about the progression of ALS. 

27 hours later...

Today has been all miscommunication and vague pushback. I'm getting misunderstood up, down and sideways today. From the front desk guy at the gym to the barista to S throwing away a damn vacuum right after I said, "I think we should hold onto both of them [the vacuums]." Yes, he did get it out of the dumpster. Yes, I did have a small meltdown about the coffee (but I can't really be a Karen, because I saw fear in the barista's eyes and who hasn't been there, really?). Yes, S did say L could go on a family bike ride with a neighbor friend and now I am kind of fucking anxious because that was, like, an hour ago! And where are they? I don't know. *sigh* What if we just moved so I don't have to deal with that particular problem anymore? No? Overreaction? Be normal, you say? Fine. 

There's a bird party in my backyard due to the sheer amount of earth I've moved over the last couple of days. Enjoy, the worms, birds! L's not on their side. Pro-worm. Anti-bird. Those are the only politics she cares about.

The "summit" resulted in literally nothing happening (color me yellow, blue, and surprised!) except for I guess the leader of Russia got an eagle desk statue (woo I guess) and several sheets of paper with an agenda and menu (surprisingly mid) were included. No mention of Ukraine or peace so I guess that was never on the menu! Just...halibut.

Oh! I discovered this week that it's possible to use a cat brush like the one below on fabric couches to remove cat hair: 

* Side note: not me spreading misinformation about characteristics of the lymphatic system's function. It doesn't help you process protein. Whoops. At least I know myself enough to look it the fuck up instead of doubling down. 

But Teacher, We Want to ROCK N' ROLL!

Just chilling in the rain at the dealership while my car is reborn. Reborn, I say! Oil changes may be include in the price of the now paid-off car, but everything else sure isn't! For that reason, the following will be longer than 15 minutes worth of writing.

So I'm trying to chip away at non-sensitive-information-involved admin (admin being what I've taken to calling paperwork vital to life that doesn't pertain to work or school). Simultaneously I am doing the hospice volunteer training even though I'm pretty sure I won't have time to actually do it. If I'm going to be doing that, I might as well (or maybe would better serve by) pouring time into spending time with my MIL. It's a lot of hours. And I started it a long time ago, never finished it, and now I'm here again. 

Today was also the first day of school at a new school for L, and I've never seen her look so serious and pale. She was really missing her friends. And I don't think I really helped. And she's in that space where she's pulling away and still needing me and that's a tricky space to exist in. I remember being 7 or 8 and sitting on the couch with my mom and her scratching my back and feeling so little and connected to her and simultaneously like I shouldn't be feeling that way. Like I should be trying to be cool and wearing hair ties on my wrists because I thought it looked cool and snapping bubble gum and roller skating around my best friend's little brother's birthday party because he wanted, like, a 50s theme (I don't know either, girl). 

While cleaning out the shed the other day I found a bird hooked between the can and handle of a paint-can. And that bird was mummified. It was a bad scene. The poor thing. It looked like it had been there all winter. And that could, I suppose, go a long way toward explaining the obsession neighborhood cats have with our shed. 

I've been fighting with myself, lately, about a few things. Here's a list!

My type of deal with limerence. Why can't I just like people and love people and just be okay with shit why does it always have to be so dramatic jesus. And then I meditate and things seem markedly better.

Just because I grew up on a farm doing hard(ish) labor doesn't mean that my kid(s) have to do that too. There's this fearful clutching in my chest in which I'm a part of me is all like, "Oh no! The youths! They will not know how to do The Things! Woe betide them!" and another part that's like, "So what? Let it burn." and still a third part which is more like, "Well. I mean, probably every older generation ever felt like this. And it's been...okay-ish? So far? Maybe chill? Just because you were mowing giant lawns with a push-mower at age 6 doesn't mean she does." And arguably, I'm not sure that particular experience was all that great. In part because of my chronological age and in part because I couldn't start the damn mower - just push it. And to this day I can't start a damn weed-whacker. There's a whole school of thought in which a (typically developing) child shouldn't do motor planning tasks that they aren't able to problem-solve through and achieve independently. Exceptions of course, etc. but there's probably some truth to it. Case in point this episode of Bluey:

Why can't I just do things? It probably looks like I do just do things. Especially with the new-ish meds. But, in fact, I do not. I was thinking about it as trying to get my ass out the door in the morning in the last two weeks considered that even with 150 mg bupropion and 400+ mg of caffeine per day, 45+ minutes of exercise up to 5 days a week for the endorphins, and trying to curate my diet to give me good hormones while staying on the non-eating disorder side and getting (ideally) 10 hours of sleep a night...I'm still basically just using all this to run through my lil' cycles of being productive/unproductive more quickly than I otherwise would and, hopefully, conversely getting more of the shit done than I otherwise would. I am tired of my brain. And society. And your face. Just kidding! Not that last one.

Something I learned about my current self during fieldwork was that I am pretty damn good at young ADHD-er AMAB, slightly less so with young autistic AMABs. Partly, I think, because I have had nearly 40 years of figuring out how to get shit done by tricking myself into doing shit, and an innate understanding (or misunderstanding I suppose, if I'm wrong) that, for ADHD, shit works until it doesn't. Lists and visual schedules are great until they turn into wallpaper and mileage for that is very very personal. Lists are also a great idea until the PDA kicks in. And ya'll (we) need extra time to come around to the idea of doing whatever the thing is that wasn't your (my) idea. But we'll get there! And for fuck's sake don't phrase it like I just did or that will trigger the RSD. One thing a parent said especially resonated: there's reason to think that if a child's ADHD is not addressed in childhood the consequences could be extensive and include addiction and mental health disorder. So. Maybe that's a nice little dovetail not only into Life In General, but my capstone. Okay, ACEs, but also: are you ADHD or autistic? And what can we do about that now?

I guess that's most of what I wanted to talk about today. Hope things are good in the hood!