Self-Help.

Guess I've been in a rut for some time now.  Spinning the wheels and not moving forward is getting frustrating.  Rather than calling someone to tow me out (there's quite a wait for that nowadays), decided to rummage around in the trunk to see what I have in the tool kit that might help.

Found my copy of the Feeling Good Handbook, which is probably one of the best texts on how to re frame one's thoughts in order to "find the courage to get things done."  This was recommended to me years ago by a counselor friend who understood me to be the tough cookie / anti self-help type that I am.  Am glad to have given her suggestion the benefit of the doubt, and am enjoying re reading / re working the exercises.

After years of sort-of following a low-carb diet and then not, finally picked up a copy of Gary Taubes's Why We Get Fat and What to Do About It.  It's a very good synopsis about the science around what causes obesity, how the current medical recommendations are incorrect, and what one should do to lose weight.  Had a hard time warming up to Mr. Taubes's style, but now we're doing fine.  Am currently following the guidelines in the appendix, as well.  I won't say that I'm doing Great (housemate tells me I'm suffering from "induction flu;" it's a mild case, though.).  Am finding it easier to fall asleep, stay asleep and wake up in the mornings, though, and that's Really Good.

Effortless Mastery by Kenny Werner.  That's from college.  Was a woodwind player back then.  Afterwards, started playing the piano Very Poorly.  That Very Poor Playing made me so happy, though.  Somewhere down the road, I lost the music.  All of it.  Need to get back in touch with that part of me that luxuriated in playing Poulenc at half speed, that cracked puns in French with a Buffalo accent, that loved messing messily with color.  It's still there; I can feel it.  Just got buried under sadness.

Baby Steps.  Weekends used to be spent on mountain trails.  Now, am lucky if I can get the daily three miles in, and maybe a 30 second plank.  Broke two fingers on my right hand late last Fall, so the Hanon exercises need to Go Slow.  Poulenc's out of my range right now, so am playing some shorter pieces from a little album of Romantic Music very slowly.  Then, there's the Putting Myself Out There business.  That's never been easy.  Right now, even contemplating it is scaring the heck out of me, though the reasonable side knows that fear is irrational.  Baby Steps.

22 Years and Counting.

It's amazing how long one can live in a place and still not feel at home.

Someone isn't a very happy camper right now.

Roissy's officially closed until 14:00 tomorrow. The Frenchie's flight was due to take off at 13:50. (We're prepared for the worst, but 're also hoping for the best.)

Just Got Word.

Kidneys shut down, unconscious. It's a matter of hours now. There's no way for me to get back in time for this. Am actually pretty relieved (God strike me down). Will have to go back to sift through stuff, though, but that's not immediate.

God protect her and keep her. I never hated her, though I'm still terribly afraid of her. I wish her the peace she probably never had in this life.

She makes some awfully good points here. Problem is, whenever I set myself to writing about some of this stuff, lights (bright ones, white ones) start flashing. Everything from about the hairline up starts to feel like it's on fire. Then either stuff goes blank or the headache gets to bad I need to throw up.

I'm dealing better than when I was younger. It's all still too close (or I haven't learned to cope well enough yet) for me to give it the thought it needs. Maybe that'll change, maybe it won't. We'll see.

(Heck, we'll see if I can sleep after having read a couple of her stories that hit kind of close to home.)

Un peu énervée.

Am waiting for some fairly important news that has been promised for Monday. Wish me luck. (Am not saying anything right now because, firstly, I don't want to jinx anything. Secondly, it's a bit personal.)

Full Fathom Five

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, - ding-dong bell.

Shakespeare, interpreted by Ralph Vaughan Williams

(For all those people who didn't make it across the Atlantic the other day. I cross it a fair bit and this is one of my biggest fears.)

(Just a little tune I remember loving when I was younger. Is kind of comforting in an odd way.)

Interesting look at how expansive piracy is in the world today. Not a good thing when you take into account the fact that Johnny Depp has nothing to do with any of this.

What's this all about? Well, after clearing out my spam folder and finding the latest coups in the current jeu de pouvoir, decided to read something not-school-related.

Boy, do I wish I could unread this.

The truth is coming out and she's scared. Da hab'ich vernommen. There's been some furtive rooting around, some grasping enrobed in sugary words for something of use - either to discredit or to threaten with.

That's what it's always been about. Never our well being.

I'm just sorry that it took such a violent shock to knock the lid off it all.

My brother is in a lot of weird badness. I don't really want to talk too much about it here; too upsetting. There's absolutely nothing I can do for him.

All I can do is hope he'll be alright, that somehow he'll get out of everything with his sanity and his soul intact. I pray, too, that my mother doesn't make matters worse.

Life IS an eternal, infernal spinning wheel.

Why do we keep making the same mistakes over and over again? I'm trying, trying my damndest to stop letting the past dictate my present so. To break the cycle of bad decisions that I make based on habit and a perceived comfort zone. It's hard, but I will do it. In spite of all the obstacles the world and I may put up.

I think that my little brother is as strong as me in some ways. We're different in a lot of ways, but are still made from the same material. He's in a very bad way now, and I can only hope that his Stern will schein like mine did when I needed it.

Good Lord, he deserves better than what he's allowed himself. I hope that he'll come to understand this, that he'll not do something stupid, that he'll just call, send a message, something.

God, I hope he's alright.

Folks: could you do me a favor? Please think some good thoughts for the Frenchie. I get the feeling that he's going through something just awful right now.