If you are someone who is not at present on good terms with Soren or me (estrangement, outright feuding, etc. [not plain respectful disagreement online]) or you are not sure, please be very careful how you interact with me right now. I am on a very short emotional fuse, and frankly, don't have the energy to care right now about how much you've missed Soren in your life, or how much you've always valued him. There will be no hospital bedside forgiveness scenes, or anything of the sort.
Keep your distance, offer your help through intermediaries if you like, but right now, there isn't room in my heart or mind to deal with sudden repentance and changes of status. | |
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I came home to a refrigerator full of lovingly home-made food, and the dishes washed. Our local friends are wonderful... as are all of you.
He's got the CPAP (or BPAP? I am confused, because the nurses referred to it as both) on again tonight; I strongly suspect that the use of it contributed to his awareness today, and will look into getting him one for home. I didn't know that people with moderate to severe sleep apnea are at considerably higher risk of strokes -- did you? So that's something else I want you all to get checked for.
Did I make that clear here? GET YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE CHECKED. REGULARLY. And if you snore, get checked for sleep apnea.
And get your health proxy forms filled out; they should be downloadable, probably from a state website. I am blessed with wonderful inlaws/soon-to-be-inlaws, but there was a a bad period at the hospital when I was informed that because we're not married, his parents are his next of kin. Talk with your loved one(s), set things up locally with good friends if need be. This is a rough reminder that we are not immortal, and that paperwork can make life even harder. | |
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but the two big things today are that this morning, Soren sang a descending major scale to me, after I'd been singing to him for a few minutes; and that this evening, he could actually say, "I... want...". He got frustrated and stressed by not being able to finish, but he did so in front of is nurse, so she could write it down.
I am wiped, awed with the kindness of the world and, oh, yes...
Goofy family moment: my nephew, Franklin, came by. He and Soren have done some serious bonding over r&b and hip hop music. Franklin "suggested" that we try something other than Simon and Garfunkel, and chose a Public Enemy/Anthrax song (I don't know the title, but everyone else on the planet seems to)... so we changed from my .mp3 player to Franklin's iPod.
Soren went from eyes-closed, asleep-looking, to eyes-open, turning to us, and glower of "What the F*** are you doing?" in about three seconds. Franklin, of course, said, "It was her idea; I tried to talk her out of it."
I don't think Scraps believed him, but I think we're all in trouble. | |
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is very brittle. I may not answer the phones much. Speaking of which, I have a new phone, for calls about Soren, and I'll list that number when I figure out how to work it. I'm wiped. | |
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Quick version, as I am exhausted:
Soren called me this afternoon, and told me that he wasn't feeling well. I came home as fast as I could, and after some discussion, got him to agree to go to the hospital. When we realized that he couldn't walk down the stairs, and I couldn't carry him, we called 911.
He's had a stroke, his blood pressure is scarily high, and he's got bleeding, too deep in his brain to operate.
Prayers, good wishes, good vibes, what-have-you are all appreciated. And if there's anything that might affect the universe positively in his direction, it would be his other great love: music. So make music, or listen to music.
Today is the eighth anniversary of our first date. | |
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After a full day of work, I went uptown to a house concert by Mark Aaron James, who is in town from London, where he's been living for the past eight months. He's doing well, in good voice, writing new songs, and generally being his sweet perverse self, which is good.
Afterwards, I went down to The Duplex, and spent a bit of time upstairs at Mostly Sondheim, where once again, "...thundercats have their lightning..." came up; then I went downstairs, and got to compliment Susan's physical trainer on his work, admire her definition, sing with Michael, and generally have a good time. Got home late late late, and have spent the day in the neighborhood. Mostly at home, actually, watching Mingus and Dave Chappelle DVDs with Soren, reading, and unwinding. Tomorrow may have more of the same, as I don't seem to have energy to schlep anywhere far from home. | |
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Subject: Today's semi-scientific discovery (as in, I'm not repeating the experiment), and advice for the taller women on staff
If, say, you are about 5'7" or taller, and if, say, you're right-handed, and if, say, you are reaching into the cabinet behind the coffeemaker for aspirin, it is possible to put enough gentle pressure on the lever to pour VERY HOT WATER on your breast.
I realize that most of you have probably never wondered about this, but if you do this, you may take it on good authority that it will distract you from your headache. And you will be VERY AWAKE for the rest of the afternoon.
Remember: I do the research, so you won't have to. I didn't know my bosses could laugh that loud. | |
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L'shana tova, y'all. May it be as sweet as you desire!
I have not had enough sleep, and am dithering about going to sing with Greg tonight; I'll carry my music and lyrics, though, and see how I feel at the end of the day. New icons, perhaps, from the photos Soren got of my face painting from Fort Tryon Park, and the annual contemplation of NaNoWriMo.
And how is your September ending? | |
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First, it's time to do my hair -- there's way too much of it. Then up to Fort Tryon Park. It was at the medieval festival in 1980 that I met a few fans (though I don't remember which ones), who I then recognized in the late winter/early spring of 1981 in Washington Square Park, which let me down the slippery slope of writing, fanzines, sin, degradation, conventions, true love, sex, drugs, rock and roll, and made me the woman I am today. Wonder what going up there this year might lead to. | |
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First: happy birthday, ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) volund! Hope you're having fun! I am feeling considerably better, having spent much of the last two days being a limp, well-hydrated object; I'm somewhat glassy-eyed, though, having read as many of the first round of entries in the LJ Idol contest, and voting. I'll quote myself from an AIM conversation with redbird this morning: It's very odd; reading these posts, and wondering what's motivating people. Some are ... okay. There's a Delany quote from The Motion of Light in Water, about how, when you first write or speak about something, you use the language you've been given, and it's only later, if you're a writer, that you wonder if the language has been true to your experience. A lot of these posts are, to me, falling into the conventional language one's been given, and sound a lot alike. (I'm saving the actual quote for something I've been writing; also, I'm too lazy to hunt down the book.) If the weather is decent, I might decide to go up to the Medieval Festival in Fort Tryon Park; or I might stay in Brooklyn, and relax. Today, though, is definitely a day for continuing to rest and regain strength. | |
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Under the weather today. The hamster has my cellphone, I am running a fever, I had a fairly irrational fit at Soren this morning, and my voice has gone. I no longer believe that these are allergies, and may schlep to the doctor tomorrow if I don't feel better by the end of the day.
Am having second thoughts about playing the at-home version of LJ Idol, having read two pages of the posts on the current topic ("Saying Goodbye"). Have great desire to tweak a number of people's noses, and say, "You are not a pretentious high school student applying to college." Except that some of them may be.
Soren is a patient man.
Soren also found the full version of Season of Lights and ordered a copy. In high school, the early morning DJ on WNEW used to play "Captain Saint Lucifer" at about 4:45 every weekday morning, so I set my alarm for 4:44, so that "Mama, mama, you're a whiz and a scholar, too" would be the first words I heard in the morning. I shall listen to it, and remember the sixteen-year-old I was. | |
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I go blithely along my way, assuming that I am the last one to ever hear about memes, contests, and such online, and every so often I learn that I'm not the last one to know. Anyway, the community is ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) therealljidol; the post with the FAQ is here, and the introductory posts are linked in the comments here. You can thank me appropriately later, though I would prefer it if the cream pies were defrosted first. | |
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Yes, I look at LJ Idol, and am actually following it more closely this year. Last year, I think three people on my reading list were participating, and the winner was someone I've met, who is a good writer.
This year, I am dithering about "playing the home game," which entails writing my own posts in response to each prompt; if I do, they will be behind cut-tags -- and, no, I don't often put posts behind cut-tags, unless I think they're long enough to merit it; I don't always read other people's posts behind cuts, I confess, because of time constraints -- so that if you're not interested in them, they will be easy to ignore them.
This week is topic 0: introductions. I don't think I'm going to write an introductory post, though. I've just read the first 73 of them, and made myself a little spreadsheet, with notes about whose posts I will continue to read, and whose I feel I can ignore blithely (yes, I read fast, and yes, I'm insane; you knew that). I have marked 24 people as "do not read any more of their work," for reasons that range from "used sparklies in her intro post" to "too wifty and inspirational" to "MOMMY above all." This sort of thing encourages a certain level of performance; there are some sorts of performances that I'm not interested in watching, much the same way I will not willingly listen to someone who believes that no musical passage is complete without melismas and grace notes, or someone who screams rather than sings.
I am curious: for the rest of you who follow the game, how do you do it? Do you make notes of people's posts? Spreadsheets? Dartboards? | |
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Well, the Randy Newman concert was excellent. 33 songs, including almost all of his "big" hits (he didn't sing "Mama Told Me Not to Come"), including "The Great Nations of Europe," "Political Science," "Marie," "Louisiana 1927," "God's Song," "Sail Away," and ending with "I Think It's Going to Rain Today" -- and the audience getting to be the chorus on "I'm Dead (And I Don't Know It)"...
...Soren and I suspect that a good percentage of the audience listened to "Rednecks" and didn't realize that the song is mercilessly skewering both the South and the North, but we've suspected that for a while...
...then home, rather than facing a piano bar crowd at 11pm on a Friday. We did stop at Quarter, where David is working on his autumn menu: drinks with apples, honey, several types of rum, flamed orange peel, etc. I like the way his mind and tastebuds work.
Unfortunately, the Pen Show is out today. I hope that it's a rescheduling, and not cancellation, but I won't know until later. On the other hand, there are good things that may replace it, and I still haven't decided which pen to try to get modified, so if I miss this show, it won't crush me forever.
Instead, today may have some backlogged posts, and domesticity, as well as rodent wrangling and birthday parties in the neighborhood. (Wonder if Seth has the kitchen up and running yet.) | |
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...in a cheerful way: we're going to hear Randy Newman at Carnegie Hall tonight. Pen Show, rodent wrangling, tending to home, quality time with the beloved.... | |
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It's supposed to be cooler today, actually, for the remainder of the week, with less humidity. Please let it be so -- I'm tired of the heat.
So... work should be interesting. Today, there is a meeting (postponed from yesterday) to sort out my responsibilities while someone else is on maternity leave. I hope people remember that when the next major meeting comes up, I am going to be on the other side of the country; if not, shall serenely remind them.
A short stop at The Duplex tonight, I think; Thursday will be Greg filling in on piano, and Joe and Terri singing and making drinks (I'll need my strength). And then Friday we're going to hear Randy Newman at Carnegie Hall. The new album is thoughtful and wicked and amazing, and neither of us has ever heard him live before. Whee!
Then, of course, is the fountain pen show. I'm still not sure I'm buying anything; of course, that's what I said at the Long Island show, and walked out with three (inexpensive, but still three) pens. My main goal is to get to Richard Binder's table, and see if I can have him turn my roseglow Sheaffer into a pen I'm more likely to use. On the other hand, Susan Wirth will be there, and she has tray after tray of pens with needlepoint, super-needlepoint, and tiny italic nibs, so there's a chance something will come home with me.
Exercise. Hydration. Work. All those good things. Right? Right? | |
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My plans for the NYC/NJ Pen Show are complicated by the fact that I am a non-driver, but, for anyone who might want to accompany me, here they are: get up annoyingly early on Saturday morning;
head into Manhattan;
find the Newark Liberty Bus stop by 8:45-freaking-am, probably the one at Port Authority; spend $25 on a round-trip ticket;
wind up at Newark Airport;
spend a somewhat obscene amount of money on a cab from the airport to the Renaissance Newark Hotel;
get to the hotel by 10:30 or 11am, if all goes well.
lurk around Richard Binder's table, in the hopes that I've gotten there early enough for him to work on a pen;
ignore David Isaacson's pants'
resist various temptations;
succumb to at least one;
reverse the travel plans to get back;
collapse in a crumpled giggling heap, cackling over my pens. Anyone crazy enough to join me? | |
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It's been a busy week: the first full week of work since June, singing, finding time to spend with Miles (who was shipped out here again for business), trying to get household stuff done, visiting Patrick and Elise last night, and watching Buffy episodes (morning conclusion: good, but I don't think I care for the serial drama format; perhaps I've lost the knack), and two piano bars, both suffering from Night of the Ambulatory Assholes....
Today, I might go to a different piano bar, to actually have more fun making music, but first I have to sort things out for the week, and organize myself a bit. I hope your Sunday is quiet, and interesting in good ways. | |
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Happy birthday, Miles! I hope you're having a wonderful party! | |
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First, happy birthday, xopher_vh! I'm glad you're in the world. I think you share a birthday with Pip and Alex, or so my memory says, so it is a good day for births. I am, as usual, thoughtful and cheerful. Slightly thwarted in giddymaking things by work constraints, but that happens. Tonight, though, should be good. I am holding friends in my heart, for a number of reasons today. | |
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Waking never seems desirable in the moment when sleep ends, consciousness blinking in the light like a squalling baby emerging from the womb; but waking to a kiss puts that moment behind as thoroughly as the irretrievable dream that preceded it. Waking to a kiss is like opening the day with an open gift. I believe I'll throw away my alarm clock.
-- baldanders, October 2000 | |
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News that had me bubbling with joy on Thursday; hanging out with Ricky and Kimlee; singing with Darius (gods help me); watching The Gong Show with Shawn, Kimlee, Alison, Ruth-Anne and others, only to find out that Sneaky Snake was cut from the broadcast;
pictures of the Demon Godchild's first day at school; singing on Friday, with Soren, Elise, Ann, and (briefly) Fred: hearing harmonies and joining in; Elise singing with Kenny (much to his delight), Ann, Soren, me, all singing with Kenny; the George Sanders experience; finding out from George that Sneaky Snake will be on line soon; lurchy cab home;
food poisoning wiping me out Saturday (I'm guessing it was from something at work, because one of my bosses and at least two coworkers were also dealing with it this weekend; yes, we share that sort of information); no real memory of the day except for feeling feverish and undignified;
delicate Sunday; short walk in neighborhood for sunlight, food, and toilet paper; rest;
back to the usual herding of rabid mice in the office; joyful news postponed; serenity despite postponement; joyful news back on schedule for this week I swear, I will write coherent sentences and passagese again some day. Perhaps even this week. But definitely some day soon. Right now, I need to finish this spreadsheet, and head home. | |
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I got news today that's got me bubbling with joy, and work is going well. What I haven't had this week, though, is real, focused time at home to sit down and write. It's the first week of school, of course, so work is eating at me, as are social activities, and singing (which seems to be becoming a necessity, rather than a social activity [and I have things to write about that, as well]); this weekend should have some down time. (I have a niggling feeling that there are two commitments tomorrow that I've spaced. Google Calendar is my friend, or would be, if I were consistent about entering data there.)
However, life is going well, the Demon Godchild is enjoying school, the Jerry Thomas bitters with cardamom are absolutely lovely, and this evening promises beautiful women (well, at least one), fish, singing harmony, and the possibility of cheese with nipples. I hope your weekend has things that bring you joy as well. | |
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singing "Evergreen" for the first time in years
Wow, that schmuck is like Chuck, older and gone really bad
Wow, that schmuck has taken Chuck's ability to piss me off with two sentences and turned it into a superpower
Why won't the world give me a taser? | |
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Yesterday, I decided to go through my old journals, to see what I was doing on other September firsts. I found some entries that really surprised me -- events that, once I read the words, I remembered having experienced, but that I'd completely let slide out of my conscious memory. And not little things, like where we went for dinner, either.
It's odd, to see what stays bright and sharp, and what fades completely into the background. Odd, and sometimes startling.
(And then, in my entry for 1 September 2004, I was doing exactly the same thing: looking at old entries for the same date. Sheesh.) | |
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brithistorian led me to the thingie in which someone gives you a letter, and you have to list ten items that begin with it that make you happy. A year or so ago, I think someone gave me Q, and he's just given me P, so I'll do them together: Pilobolus, pens, poetry, parsnips, port, Patrick's guitar playing, purple inks, Papas Fritas, Pellmell; perry;
Quasi, questions, quince preserves, quagga (how can anyone not like that word), quarks, quills, quirks... Okay, so only seven Q concepts. So it goes. | |
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Bitters shared with David, and several drinks made; the cardamom in them goes really well with gin and apples.
Vocal coaching (read "torture by a gleeful gorgeous sadist") achieved.
Singing with Greg, and meeting more of his family done; the former included singing "Babooshka" in front of a full Friday night crowd at The Duplex, and getting a wild round of applause from the Irish guys, as well as being handed a tambourine by Greg, and accompanying him on several songs. My arm hurts.
Party missed, though we did see some people still in celebration/drunk mode twenty-two hours after it had started.
Quality time with Soren, definitely.
julian_tiger is loud and opinionated about me not being redbird.
Wheelie chair achieved and put together -- yay!
Work space partially excavated. Many pens rediscovered.
Writing -- not so much.
Jewelry not polished, as am out of silver polish, and forgot to pick it up.
Relaxing, done. All in all, things are going pretty well. I can almost face the office tomorrow with cheer. Almost. | |
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share new bitters with David
get vocal coaching
sing with Greg
survive Dani's birthday party
quality time with Soren
check in on julian_tiger
clean parts of apartment
buy wheeled chair for work space
excavate work space
work on LiveJournal
write
clean/polish jewelry
figure out how many earrings are now singletons
contemplate converting singletons to pendants
relax | |
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I haven't been posting much lately, though there's been a fair amount going on. It's mostly that not a lot of what I'm perceiving has quite worked its way into words yet, and some of what has doesn't quite feel like my stories to tell -- or perhaps it's that I don't know where I am in the story, and if I make myself the heroine when I should be the narrator, things shift in ways that don't feel right. (cf. one of the comparatively recent Brust books, but I refuse to hunt it down right now.) Still, there have been some lovely moments. Last night, as we've tried to do a few times lately, elisem and I met, first for dinner (fish!) and much discussion of life, recent events, and shared history, then went off to find Greg and sing. Only three songs total ("Vienna" for her, "Whole New You" and "Don't Let It Bring You Down" for me), as we were both inclined to make it an early night. She was also carrying her weight in rocks, which made us conscious of the need to get to our respective sleeping places while we still had energy to do so. Today, I am going to work early, not quite at the asscrack of dawn, because my bosses want part of our constituency to meet me, and understand that I am their representative, and that emails that come from me are as important as emails that come from them. Last night, I talked with Soren about being the Voice of Sauron: "It's the Mouth of Sauron, actually, and that would be much more effective if you were working for el Queso Grande." "Never again. I'm not that evil." | |
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Not every weekend starts with caviar, but the ones that do are fun. Friday evening had caviar and other excellent food, good conversation, and pleasant walks. Yesterday was a day at home, reading, writing, being with Soren. Today will have writing, going out to sing a bit (let's see how the transitions from chest to head go today), then a CD release party.
Meanwhile, I am awake, and contemplating information. I've been doing that a lot lately: people talk with me, and rather than acting immediately on what I've learned, I take more time to integrate it with other data. Some of it seems to be figuring out patterns, and coming up with ways of recognizing the patterns, as well as acting -- or choosing not to act -- on them.
I'm not sure if this is making sense outside my head, but so it goes. I've gotten better at recognizing certain patterns, but -- and I assume most people are like this -- there are some which I am evidently blind to, so each time I walk into it, it feels like something different at first. How do I learn to recognize them? | |
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