Sunday, February 21, 2021

Square State Human: Mattress Protectors

 

     I think there is a short series here, analyzing why a show became an obsession for me for six months. I tried watching something else after binging the entire show, but couldn't. Every time I sat down, or worked out, or laid down to go to bed, "Netflix, Schitt's Creek" is what I said. Then the connections start and I am able to relax.

     The episode when David wets the bed, as a thirty year old man nervous about his wedding, is today's topic. Patrick covers the matterss with a mattress protector and David insists it go away. I have a mattress protector because I have animals. Matresses are expensive, and I thought it was pretty much common practice, even if you weren't a pet owner. People eat and drink in bed as well as have sex, which if you're doing it right produces body fluids that could stain a mattress. There's the whole menstration thang and many women don't wear tampons, but pads that can leak, also your tampon can fail. Even men know that, they've seen the commercials. Or they've had females in their bed. 

    I am in a constant state of washing laundry due to the animals. It is not always because they pee. The elderly rescuse dog who we think was never house broken in the first place, is too stubby to get onto the bed, so he focuses on the corner on the floor. The other dog, who is some kind of Pug/Chihuahua/Jack Russell mix only refuses to go outside if it's cold, and is smart enough to not pee where he sleeps. Besides, he has been dubbed "The Mad Pooper" on cold days, not "The Mad Peer". No, I'm constantly doing laundry because the animals shed. As much as I love them, and the cats bathe themselves, and we groom and brush and spray, the bed still smells like dog at the end of the week. The mattress protector is slippery, so my cheaper sheets are not snug on the edges, so in the middle of the night, I'll roll over and get plastic protector in my face instead of jersey sheet. The plastic gets cat fur on it and needs to be cleaned as well.

   And that is Part One of how Schitt's Creek kept me sane this last year. Every single episode was human, and had something in it I could relate to, and sent me into my own mind clattering around with a purpose: plastic mattress protectors this time. This is a much safer way to ping around my brain, at least there is a topic I am searching to connect to. In general, being removed from both theatre and students, believing I was being given this time to write but I could not write, I just wanted to sleep, was dangerous for my psyche. Now I realize, for the same reason that I clung to Hedwig and the Angry Inch for two horrible, bullied, years, I held on to Schitt's Creek. At least there were themes and plots that I could connect to.

Thursday, February 18, 2021

Square State Teacher: When The World Went Full Tech, I Went Analog

 


       I'm so bored being bashed for "not working", yet I've been  knocking myself silly to teach theatre remotely. Stop posting hate about teachers not working, you're an ass. My colleagues scream and they're not wrong THEY'RE NOT WRONG  it's worthy of a full throated shout. We Didn't Cause This, Stop Attacking Us Because We Cannot Fix It. I was lending my voice for a time, but I just can't anymore. Nobody Cares and I'm hoarse. My last contribution to the online fray regarding the "I have to work,go to work teachers!" inaccurate, uninformed mantra was "Ignorance +Anger =America's Favorite Cocktail".

    We've decided to do a "Hybrid Cabaret" on 11 March, the anniversary of our shut down. The adults will be on stage, the kids will get on google meet and perform both live on stage and on google meet: social commentary. Hybrid building, hybrid cabaret. And twice the work of a live show. 

     I told the kids the theme was "It's Been A Year" but I don't want pieces that whine or yell. I want to see what they've been doing this year. I want songs that feed their souls, poetry that inspires them and original work that reflects the  journey.

    I was delighted when one girl said she and a few others had found something akin to a Minecraft fan fiction, stories written about the characters. She's been playing a lot of Minecraft this year, and decided they could build a scene around this.

   YES. Do That.

   I told them I was writing a slam poem, but it was not going to add to the white noise. It's a slam about how I overcame my tech fear by learning what I could, embracing my passion and looking backward to theatre's roots to inspire my students.

   I can write about it now, because it worked.  No need to go into the history of my previous building and my new district. Irrelevant. 

  All that matters is that my building chose to keep all electives ( you heard me, all electives) remote for the entire year. That means theatre, choir, band, art....all remote. 

     Remember how I teach theatre? 

     In a blind panic, I decided to first cling inexplicably to my IB status, and teach history.

     History is necessary and a personal chocolate for me.

     To three sections of Intro, largely freshmen. 

     Ummm....sure...?

      I'm also up against a district that dictated that we break each of the classes (I have six) into 20 day sessions. OH,  there are only two classes a day in each session. And they're three hours long.

   I had to teach an entire fall semester in 20 days in August. Then when they returned in January, hope they remembered and teach some more.

    So much for IB and Theatre history.

    I am surrounded by colleagues spending money on blue screens and cameras. By others who can see their kids in person for rehearsals. This is where I reiterate that I was cut off. Cut Off. Soccer and tennis and football were fine to practice and play, but performing arts were cut off. The Theatre Is Dark. I'm writing this on 3 Feb 2021 and I have not seen a student in person since 12 March 2020. 

     For Real.

    So here is what I decided: The Muppet Show worked.  Mr. Rogers worked. We Don't Need No Stinkin' Stage. (WRONG WE NEED A STINKIN' STAGE!)

    History. Yes. Lectures and Crash Coruses for fun. NO PEAR DECKS EVER. Some google doc quizzes and connecting various histories to movies and video games in meet. A few demonstrations in combat and mime that went poorly. But the kids were so patient and wonderful, and none of it was sticking. 

    They need to learn to read a script. That's a thing that can be done on google meet. My personal Intro fave is The Odd Couple by Neil Simon. But in August, I had no capacity to create break rooms ( neither did Google Suite), so...I decided each student had to choose one scene and create a puppet show for that scene. Only their little selves, some sock puppets and their district Chrome book. They would become actors and prop masters and get to figure out camera angles. Sounded like a stretch, but I needed something to engage them in theatre, not film.

   I gave them work time and instructions for the puppets: buy nothing. They must be sock puppets you build from whatever you found around the house. I stayed in the meet while they searched, helped them figure out eyes ( is it a marker or a button you stitch on?) and camera angles. We had done a costume history unit, so several were interested in created costume pieces for their puppets.

   They at it up. 

   I was gobsmacked.

   Really?

   Yes, really. One "Murray" had a police hat. Several "Felix's" had ties. Oscar's had stubble, and one kid gave both his Oscar and his Felix his own hair: a fro. There were stripey socks with hair, and socks with full costumes "sitting" around a table of stuffed animals for the poker scene. They used dialects. They loved on each other in the chat. They laughed and cheered each other on.

   I do not believe, in my entire career, I have thoroughly enjoyed so many scenes. I laughed so loud I disrupted the dog's nap. I told these kids I loved their commitment and their creativity and I meant it.

   For puppets. Not film. Not Pear Deck or Screentastify. Not You Tube editing or Tik Tok.

   For the core of theatre: to tell a story. 

    To Tell A Story.

   You can't tell a story if you are uncomfortable, or your wifi cuts out. Which happens with several kids, daily. 

    You can't tell a story if you're afraid of the camera or if you can't see the final product until it's edited together.

   Theatre is defined by a live audience. A Live Audience. Live Performers. Period.

    Funny, nobody's wifi gave them trouble during their puppet performance.

    Because we were worshipping Dionysus at his base, building puppets from things around the house, learning to create, adapting to the "live" audience awaiting the show behind their own screen.

   So while my colleagues created films, allowed kids to record on flipgrid, taught editing and leaned into the tech...I reached backwards.

   You can keep your tech, y'all. I'll be in the corner with my sock puppets, retelling the story of how much fun it was to tell Neil Simon's story with sock puppets.






Square State Teacher: This Is The Thing That Is Going To Run Me Out Of Teaching

 

    For the last few years, I've become fond of saying, in overwhelmed moments, in angry moments, in many moments: "This is the thing that's going to run me out of teaching". I have identified everything from Lawn Mower parents to bullying administrators to google classroom as The Final Straw.

    I never said it about COVID, specifically remote teaching, or the ensuing tsunami of tech failures that I left in my wake. I supposed it is because, In this case, I am not alone and therefore don't feel the need to say "this will be the thing that runs me out of teaching". Everything that I credit with enough power to run me out feels personal and specific, not general and meandering like a pandemic.

   Today, the thing that is going to run me out of teaching is asking me to do everything remotely and simultaneous. Including teaching my classes, directing shows and taking classes required by the district. And signing up for PD days on yet another platform. And building lesson plans for units I cannot teach until we are in person again. And digitally restructuring lesson plans to be delivered both remotely and in person. And telling me I  must teach remotely from a mostly empty building. And not showing any mercy when my work for the online class the district is making me take is late because this week was supposed to be a google meet instead of written responses, but then I couldn't do the google meet because I'm in the building until 3:30 and the meet started at 4 and I had no interest in remaining in this building and doing things remotely from 7 am until 5 pm, thank you, and the deadline for the written work was BEFORE the google meeting time, which makes exactly and precisely no sense but then what does, what even makes sense anymore? I would like all deadlines to be set before the assignment is posted. I have a time machine, not a problem, lemme just dart around in time to accommodate that. No worries.

  That is the thing that is going to run me out of teaching. Today. No Time Machine.

   Tomorrow, it'll be something else.

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Moderna, Moderna, Pfitzer: Like Duck Duck Goose.

        

        I play Duck, Duck, Goose in theatre. It's the best. And you can always bet on the popular kids getting chosen first. As "random" as it is, you know that after several kids "goose" their friends, eventually everyone gets chosen. Even if the teacher has to keep the game going until the bitter end.

      To me, this is how the vaccine was rolled out. They innoculated the politicians, who can work from home easily, first. Goose. I did not agree with that. Then the health care workers, goose, yes please, I agreed with that, and there was not a dosage shortage for either group. Just like the game, the first few rounds went smoothly, as those who were expecting to be chosen, were. Goose, goose , goose.

     Then we came to the eldery population, and things got snarled. Duck...duck...It wasn't that they couldn't run around the circle once chosen, it's that they were being chosen erratically. Duuuuck, duck, duck duck. The VA was unable to take care of their own, duck, duck, doses were short, duck, duck, duck, duck... older Americans were shopping appointments at Walgreens, King Soopers and Safeway when their insurance companies could not accomodate them. Duck duck duck duck DUCK DUCK DUCK. I became convinced then that I would not get the vacccine. As a teacher, were were declared "1 b" after the older population. Based on the opening rounds, I was convinced they were going to run out before getting to me. I still think that: It's in two doses. I received my first dose yesterday, with much gratitude. Goose!

      I feel better today than I have in a year. I slept soundly last night for the first time in a year. My dreams were vivid and positive ...etc etc. As much as I'd like to say the vaccine is a magic serum itself, it is what it represents that caused me to choke up yesterday when I received the shot at Kaiser.

      I was invited by two insurance companies to receive the dose, one of which was not even mine. This happened Friday, as I was about to follow a link sent to me by my collegue in which I could shop available appointments at Walgreens in Colorado Springs by zip code. Teachers had taken up the cue left by our elders, and began to suspect they were not going to get the shot unless they shopped outside of the system.   

       I did not have the fun Hunger Games Experience that happened at the Convention Center with Jeffco. Only 200 doses were left unclaimed,so they sent 4,600 emails to all employees inviting them to race to the site of the yearly stock show for 200 doses. Duckduckduckduck hurry, run! The email was sent at 4:45 on a weekend day, teachers had to arrive by 6 pm to receive the dose. DuckduckduckduckDUCKDUCK, Goose You Win! I will leave that story to those who were present, and the news agencies who picked it up,and again leave you to ponder the thought process in that choice.

       I did not shop zip codes to seek a faster vaccine due to my number. Duck. Duck. Even though my building is hybrid, our fractured schedule dictates that I do not see students in person until after spring break. I was not in a hurry, so I wanted to give my collegues in other districts the opportunity to get vaccinated first. I have friends walking back into rooms with 30 kids on Tuesday in other districts. One such friend was on seven waiting lists, as the "district appointments" were filled up. That gave me pause. Math seems to vex these districts, do you not know how many employees you have? So, I was watching the mad race, receiving links to Safeways and Walgreens from colleagues, tracking the panic on Facebook, and resolved to waiting for the 46,199 people to get shot before me, when I received the email invites. One from my insurance company, Kaiser, and one from Not My Insurance Company who was reaching out to all educators in our district. I was flummoxed. Goose...goose? Geese?

     The panic attack that ensued was brief. I first called my mom to find out when her appointment was, as I don't want to get vaccinated weeks before her. Turns out it's only days, and I'm still salty about that. She's in the category ahead of me, why is her vaccine two days after mine? We both have Kaiser. Also,I had heard if you've ever had an anaphlaxic (anaphlatic?) reaction to anything, ever, you could be at risk with the vaccine.That convinced me that I would have a nasty reaction, and then I just sucked it up and drove to Kaiser yesterday. The whole panic attack lasted about two hours, I made a lot of progress. I was proud of myself.

    The parking lot was not packed. There was no line. I walked right in, and was greeted by a lovely woman whose job is to make me stand in front of the scanner (I assume for temperature, but I believe it was judging the symmetricality of my facial features) and asked to walk downstairs. En route, I saw no people: not in line or exiting. I was given my card once it was located. I have discovered I have serious reading comprehension issues and no understanding of time any more. My appointment was for 4:15, I arrived at 3:45, thinking it was at 4. Immma joy. No matter, they happily retrieved my card,and I stood for approximately thirty seconds awating my turn to be jabbed. The lovely nurse had me read three statements and reply out loud, one of which was "Have you ever had anaphlaxia?" I said one time, yes, yes I did, and she said "OK, we'll have you wait 30 minutes instead of 15" and jabbed me. Clearly, there is no real concern about this, it's just a precaution. Her clogs were purpley and wonderful, and she had personally given 500 doses that day. She was one of three nurses, so...math. There was a bank of health workers with lap tops managing logging the vaccines and assigning our second appointments, everyone was chatting and in good spirits with one another. Since I had to wait 30  minutes, I heard a bit more than most, and I noted there was a count going on regarding how many doses they had remaining vs. people showing up for their appointment. It sounded like people who made appointments weren't following through. I wonder if they took the unclaimed doses over to Jeffco Stadium and gave them away.

     I sat there and felt relieved. I got choked up, my body relaxed, I was watching everyone and listening to all of the conversations and I felt present for the first time in...a year, frankly. 

     It's the symbolism of receiving the vaccine that hit me. It's not over, this is never going to be truly over. But the vaccine is real, and some teachers are getting vaccinated. I say "some" not because of those who may be choosing to abstain, but because university professors are not considered "educators", and my friend had to shop appointments because the district appointments were "full".

      Duck, duck, goose.

     I have a lot of opinions. So do you.

     I am not going to share any more of mine. 

     My mind has been eased. I've been in survival mode for two years, it was my norm. That's why I started to write this.

      Duck, duck, goose. If you are invited to play, I recommend doing so. 

     And if you aren't tapped to play, stand up and play, anyway. 

     

Monday, January 4, 2021

LESBIAN HALLMARK CHRISTMAS Treatment (copyright ME)

                characters

      A 24 year old lesbian massage therapist is struggling with the Big Questions after her salon was shut down during COVID. Her name is Jamie. Even though there is a now a vaccine, and even though the community supports her, the experience made her skittish. She has been taking classes online to finish her BA but is unsure of what to do going forward. 

        A 26 year old gender fluid person named Eddie has come to the small Colorado town where Jamie is shutting down her spa to see a friend from college, Paula, who is struggling to keep her resteraunt open. Both Eddie and Paula suffer from severe bi polar as well as borderline personality, and so make strange attractors, even when the friendship "falls apart". Both have made great strides during the shutdowns with their respective disorders, helped by the fact that both of their careers have been impacted. Eddie is a musical theatre performer who was working part time service jobs to fill in the gaps. Paula and Eddie did drag shows together in college, Paula would drag male, Eddie would drag female.

        John runs the local small theatre, which during the summer time is a tourist draw with many named Broadway and TV performers on the cast lists, mixed with locals.He had to go on unemployement and worked very hard to receive a PPP so he could pay his administrative staff during the shut down. He turned his shop into a make shift PPE manufacturer, keeping the community stocked with masks his costume crew stitched, and hand sanitizer his stage hands bottled. He has not opened yet, officially, but his wife, who is an amateur photographer and son have begun to play a comminity Christmas Pagent. They are wife Paige and son Kenny, who runs his own little radio show from their attic that the older community supports.

          Ted is the local realtor and mayor. He seems old for 30 as he's conservative both politically and financially.

          Bud runs the fishing tackle/ski shop/barbershop on the strip.He has lent a hand to Paula, as her stage hands are few off season. But is in his 60's and while he is an entrenched member of the community, nobody knows much about him. He tends to show up when needed, and has a wide variety 

       plot

             Eddie's destination is Durango, not Creede, but they know Paula has a restaurant there and they want to stop and see how he is. Paual is not on social media, which has nothing to do with accessability, she just doesn't like it. Eddie is interested in seeing their friend and the small, respected theatre. They have applied and auditioned to perform at the theatre the last four years, with not even a squeak of interest. As long as they're driving through, they may as well kill two birds with one stone. Paula lives in an apartment above her restaurant and has told Eddie they can stay as long as they like. Eddie is not really very interested in Duraango, they are toying with the idea of getting a Masters Degree and thought they'd drive down and spend some time in the town that the college is attached to.

             As Eddie enters town, passing the broken train tracks as they enter, the town is decorating for Christmas. The town is not a "quaint, eastern sea board" town or a "quant, midwestern town". It is a hard fought, dusty, small Colorado town with a specific charm all its own. Instead of hiding its history, it leaves it out for everyone to see: collapsing barns, snow washed liquor store with a small bar inside--Eddie had never seen anything like it---low buildings built for endurance through the winters, all of which have changed hands at least a dozen times over the decade, and a small bedroom community, floating off toward the mountains, begun in the early 2000's, small, brick ranch houses that look out of place in this area. Eddie drives the one block through "town" and notes a massage spa, another liquor store, a real estate office, three restaurants and the theatre.

           Jamie is struggling to find any Christmas spirit as she's talking to the local real estate agent in her spa, which is really a store front with a massage room. As the only MT in town, Jamie hires additional help in the summers for the tourist crowd, but now those rooms stand empty. She is telling Ted, the realtor, she thinks it's time to leave. Maybe she'll go back home to Denver. She's been doing online school during the shutdown toward a BA, but she does not really know why just that she wants out of MT.

          Paul is struggling to reopen. He is fortunate that during the shut down he was able to continue with take out, since Creede is such a small town. The three resteraunts on his block all recieved PPP and combined forces, borrowing one another's kitchens and staff, to start a delivery to the folks in the bedroom community. When the snow starts here, it locks everyone down, and it can be difficult to drive the short mile into town. The combined menus and collaborative work was what they all needed to survive, but now they are all faced with the reality that soon, things will re open in their entirety and they wll have to go back to running their own business. Paul isn't sure he wants to do that any more, and is thinking he'd rather turn his place into a bakery, or a bookstore. He just needs a change of pace. He is in his kitchen with his girlfriend, unloading a delivery as Eddie drives through.

         Ted, the realtor is also the mayor. He has decided that the Christmas charm of past years in this small, western town, needs a solid reboot. He has no evidence that anyone intends to visit this year, but the vaccine has been out for nine months and the summer people who trickled in kept the local businesses afloat, and gave him hope. He is a relentless social media user, who follows ideas and trends regularly.What he wants to do is use Jamie's empty rooms to set up photo booths so visitors can get those old timey, western black and white photos taken. John's wife has agreed to loan her equipment, and their son has also agreed to help.

      The community is mostly willing to do this, but not if Ted asks, as Ted was a vocal anti masker during the lockdowns. Their small community only had two spikes, thankfully, and they did not lose anyone, but they believe Ted was the source of both spikes as he was the only one making regular trips to Durango and Alamosa. Ted knows that there is resistence, and his biggest obstacle is Paul and the other resteraunt owners. There was a showdown when Ted insisted that they remain open in June of 2020 to accomodate the few travelers they had driving through. The Restaurant Collaborative (or the Restaurant Cranks as Ted called them) refused to open their doors and instead, collaborated by creating a block long patio on both sides of the street that all three resteraunts tended to. Ted saw the opporunity to take it a step further, and in July he shut down the main street so the patrons could be outside and still receive service. This was a successful strategy in other, more touristy, mountain towns, but Creede does not have T Shirt shops or candle shops or a cute local signs shop. They have one antique shop that the owner crowned "All Things Dead" in homage to his favorite movie, Roxanne, and he has no time for importing or creating anything that seems remotely "touristy" or "cute". 

     in conclusion all in all to sum up 

   The community will come together to decorate, and to rethink their strategy to attract tourism again. After all, the reason the rail road tracks are torn up is that they didn't want anybody in their town. they decide if they can put up a pagent, that's a solid step as the theatre is a big summer draw. They also  decided the abandoned ranch west of town should be reinvented, and horseback riding should be offered. Someone will need to manage the ranch, which has a few cabins still standing, it just needs a lot of work, and a few horses. There's a main lodge that used to have a kitchen. It will require more hands than they have available in town to keep it going, and maintained during the winter when only the few brave visitors seek them out. Ted has a connection to a horse rescue, who need additional land for their horses. They can care for the horses, offer rides and adopt them out as necessary. Paul agrees to move in and start renovations, he did renovate his restaraunt single handedly, and his girlfriend agrees. The restaurant coalition agrees to rotate the menus and lend staff to run the lodge. The theatre crews agree to run housekeeping at the lodge during the off season, and John knows that many actors and designers have expressed interest in staying longer than the season but they need a pay check.

     Jamie is asked to move her business into the lodge, and she acquiesces as long as she can keep her storefront in town as well. She will need more staff as well, eventually, as she still wants to finish her BA. Eddie is asked to participate in the Christmas Pagent and ends up being a performer and director when John comes down with a cold and has to quarantine, since not everyone in town has been able to get the vaccine yet. Ted pitches in as a peformer and wears a mask. Jamie and Eddie meet and walk around town, hike, ride horses, fall in love and Eddie decides to stay. Awe. Jamie is able to get Ken a line on a scholarship to a state university for his radio work, he will leave next August.

   plot points

      Eddie and Jamie meet as Eddie enters the spa to see about booking a massage after their long drive. Jamie recommends a hike first, as there is an old lodge nearby that is a short, pretty hike. There has been no snow as yet, but it's cold so they bundle up. Eddie has to borrow Jamie's jacket and hat.

      Ted, Paula and the other restaurant owners argue over re opening protocols. Since they are a tourist town, the Collaborative thinks they should require masks inside and leave the outside, main street dinign option open for another year. Ted thinks everyone who wants a vaccine has had one by now, so just open and stop telling people what to do. Ted has not been vaccinated, and says he will not, he thinks the government can track him if he gets it. He says this while snapchatting on his phone and sending emails on his lap top. Paula makes him a tin foil hat. Ted is not amused.

      Paula and Eddie revive their college drag show at the Pagent.

     There is an unexpected snow storm, a family and small group of college kids headed home for the holidays are delayed in town. They must be accomodated, somehow, so they are spread out among the community. This group creates a musical "Wagon Train" number for the pagent, and they pitch in to help clean out the lodge.

      Ted misgenders Eddie every time he sees them, finally agreeing that "they/them" works because he sees two people there. 

      Paula has always loved horses, but renovating the restaraunt single handedly has kept her from fulfilling her dream. She's always looked longinging at the abandoned lodge, but knew she was not able to run it by herself. She takes hikes up there and day dreams. It's her special place. It is also where Ted goes to day dream, and one day they are both there and they connect. ish. Opposites attract.

    There is a local high school, somewhere, but the students are far flung and from other small towns. Most live in the bedroom community, they're there, they don't do much. They're like elves, they just show up to help.

 

Why Do We Need...

 

  Why do we need the DAV and Wounded Warriors?

  Because the military is not taking care of the men and women who commit their lives to them.

   Why do we need animal shelters?

  Because people cannot manage to care for, love and FIX their animals like responsibe, higher level thinkers. Somehow the memo got missed that we are their caretakers.

 Why do we need Medicare?

  Because the for profit insurance conglomorates do not care about the average person and their medical needs.

  Why do we need the FDA?

  Because someone needs to punish us when we, as a community, step up to help when our government is unable.

  Why do we neeed the IRS?

  Because someone needs to bully us during a pandemic, when we've lost our jobs.


  'merica.

                   SCENE

Saturday, January 2, 2021

Menopause, Covid, Depression or...Dementia

 

    Over  last nine months, the guestion  of "why has my brain stopped working" has had only three possible answers: covid, menopause or depression. Three choices to explain why I've lost the waffle maker that I just put away, or buy taco seasoning every time I visit the store because I think we are out. We are not out, there are about 73 packets in my pantry. I do the same thing with ketchup and spaghetti sauce.

  I am hesitant to make light of something so deeply horrifying as dementia, which is why I will not blame it for my current state, but it may be time to add the word as a fourth possible answer.

  First, one must overlook the fact that I deliberately ignore health advice. I lost weight on Keto knowing it couldn't be sustained, but who cares, I lost 25 pounds. I knew I'd gain weight in March when the empty shelves in the grocery store gave me enough anxiety to buy what they had, which was muffin mix. Then I had to make the muffins, you can't just have mix sitting in your pantry next to the ketchup mocking you. I  know I do not drink enough water, that I drink too much alcohol, that I do not exercize. There is no need to point these things out to me, I'm an adult. I've always had a trait that causes me to specifically ignore advice that I know is good for me. Is there a word for that? (Clearly the word is "stubborn").

  Once you overlook my stubborn refusal to "Just Do The Thing" and clear up whatever the current issue is, the humor of my mental canonballs is revealed. 

  That is, until the anxiety rears its head again, and nothing is funny any more.

  Roller Coaster, party of one. 

  I have had little to no anxiety since March. Even over Christmas, my usual screaming, screeching mind was only whispering. With the new year, in fact the very first day, Anxiety decided to make a comeback. I could not think, I revereted to old patterns and found myself feeling defeated. In the process, I was lectured by my 23 year old daughter who has had enough.

  It's so comforting to just give into anxiety and let it fuel you. It makes sense, because it pushes me to be active. I have been inactive for so long, I suppose it was an easy excuse.Anyway, there is a lot of self discovery involved her that nobody needs to read. I sat down to write because my brain is mush. It's something familair that I recognize.

  I had a friend text me before Christmas about her husband's birthday. I read the date wrong-which is a common issue with me, I also frequently text garbage, I blame my eyes-and thought it was this week. So I mailed a birthday card last week. Facebook send me a notification that my friend's birthday is tomorrow, and I immediately knew something was amiss. Why yes, yes,  her text clearly has the proper date written down, and I decided it was a single digit number. So now my friend has weirdly received a birthday card almost two weeks early, and once again those who know me are forced to smile and say "It's OK, it's not a big deal", but I do this all the time. I struggled with dates before I was old, I had no idea it could be this bad.