Adventures of the Monkey Mind

Barliaman Butterbur had ADHD and No One Got it

2025-06-27T23:51:57Z

There is no minor character in all of the LOTR that I felt a keener or more unexpected knife of sympathy for than Barliaman Butterbur, and this is why: he clearly reflected a condition I lived with silently all through my youth, a condition that didn't get a name until about 3 years ago. Old Barley had ADHD. And because people asked me to elaborate I'm going to, and it's long so I'm putting it in my journal instead of on FaceBook. Now then attend, friend to friend.

For the record, I'm not speaking of the comfortable and contented character of Mr. Butterbur as presented in the movie. I'll be referencing the books exclusively. If you haven't read them that's fine, I'll only be making quotes having to do with our man Barley.

Butterbur is first mentioned by Tom Bombadil himself, referring the hobbits to this "worthy innkeeper", so we know Barley's heart is in the right place. Tom is probably the last person in Middle Earth to be able to recognize a challenged attention span, but his estimation of goodwill is above reproach.

When we first meet our classic NPC Mr. Butterbur, he is overseeing a busy night at the Pony. Every sentence Tolkien spends describing this fellow reflects a state of mind I have been in many times - distracted, overstimulated, excited and garrulous:

Frodo went forward and nearly bumped into a short fat man with a bald head and a red face. He had a white apron on, and was bustling out of one door and in through another, carrying a tray laden with full mugs.
'Can we-' began Frodo.
'Half a minute, if you please!' shouted the man over his shoulder, and vanished into a babel of voices and a cloud of smoke. In a moment he was out again, wiping his hands on his apron.
'Good evening, little master!' he said, bending down. 'What may you be wanting?'
'Beds for four, and stabling for five ponies, if that can be managed. Are you Mr. Butterbur?'
'That's right! Barliman is my name. Barliman Butterbur at your service! You're from the Shire, eh?' he said, and then suddenly he clapped his hand to his forehead, as if trying to remember something. 'Hobbits!' he cried. 'Now what does that remind me of? Might I ask your names, sir?'
'Mr. Took and Mr. Brandybuck,' said Frodo; 'and this is Sam Gamgee. My name is Underhill.'
'There now!' said Mr. Butterbur, snapping his fingers. 'It's gone again! But it'll come back, when I have time to think.

I don't *think* I cringed the first time I read these words. But I know on subsequent readings a tiny corner of my heart always folded in upon itself. For now Barley gets to business, finding rooms for the four hobbits and gets back to the main room, where things are hopping.

'Well, now, what was I going to say?' said Mr. Butterbur, tapping his forehead. 'One thing drives out another, so to speak. I'm that busy tonight, my head is going round. There's a party that came up the Greenway from down South last night – and that was strange enough to begin with. Then there's a travelling company of dwarves going West come in this evening. And now there's you. If you weren't hobbits, I doubt if we could house you. But we've got a room or two in the north wing that were made special for hobbits, when this place was built. On the ground floor as they usually prefer; round windows and all as they like it. I hope you'll be comfortable. You'll be wanting supper, I don't doubt. As soon as may be. This way now! No time for talking. I must be trotting. It's hard work for two legs, but I don't get thinner. I'll look in again later. If you want anything, ring the hand-bell, and Nob will come. If he don't come, ring and shout!'

Off he went at last, and left them feeling rather breathless. He seemed capable of an endless stream of talk, however busy he might be.

So there's our man - a popular one in Bree, certainly, and running a successful and satisfying business, meeting the needs of all kinds of travelers who probably have great stories and making his living thereby. But something is troubling our man, and nothing in the story, not the appearance of the mysterious Strider or the accident wit the ring is quite as close to my heart as what in the world could be on his mind, and will he remember it. Every time I wish he'd remember sooner, but I know it doesn't matter.

You see, it's already too late.

Just after the disappearing accident Frodo tells Butterbur he's going to bed.

'Very good! But before you go, I should like a word with you in private, Mr. Underhill. Something has just come back to my mind that I ought to tell you. I hope that you'll not take it amiss. When I've seen to a thing or two, I'll come along to your room, if you're willing.'

'Certainly!' said Frodo; but his heart sank. He wondered how many private talks he would have before he got to bed, and what they would reveal. Were these people all in league against him? He began to suspect even old Butterbur's fat face of concealing dark designs.

Butterbur's face, however round, is concealing nothing of course, except anxiety, an anxiety I knew very well. Old Barley shows up later in the hobbits' rooms to confess.

At that moment there came a knock at the door. Mr. Butterbur had arrived with candles, and behind him was Nob with cans of hot water. Strider withdrew into a dark corner.

'I've come to bid you good night,' said the landlord, putting the candles on the table. 'Nob! Take the water to the rooms!' He came in and shut the door.

'It's like this,' he began, hesitating and looking troubled. 'If I've done any harm, I'm sorry indeed. But one thing drives out another, as you'll admit; and I'm a busy man. But first one thing and then another this week have jogged my memory, as the saying goes; and not too late I hope. You see, I was asked to look out for hobbits of the Shire, and for one by the name of Baggins in particular.'

'And what has that got to do with me?' asked Frodo.

'Ah! you know best,' said the landlord, knowingly. 'I won't give you away; but I was told that this Baggins would be going by the name of Underhill, and I was given a description that fits you well enough, if I may say so.'

And who was he?' asked Frodo eagerly.

'Ah! That was Gandalf, if you know who I mean. A wizard they say he is, but he's a good friend of mine, whether or no. But now I don't know what he'll have to say to me, if I see him again: turn all my ale sour or me into a block of wood, I shouldn't wonder. He's a bit hasty. Still what's done can't be undone. '

'Well, what have you done?' said Frodo, getting impatient with the slow unravelling of Butterbur's thoughts.

'Where was I?' said the landlord, pausing and snapping his fingers. 'Ah, yes! Old Gandalf. Three months back he walked right into my room without a knock. _Barley,_ he says, _I'm off in the morning. Will you do something for me? You've only to name it,_ I said. _I'm in a hurry,_ said he, _and I've no time myself, but I want a message took to the Shire. Have you anyone you can send, and trust to go? I can find someone,_ I said, _tomorrow, maybe, or the day after. Make it tomorrow,_ he says, and then he gave me a letter.

'It's addressed plain enough,' said Mr. Butterbur, producing a letter from his pocket, and reading out the address slowly and proudly (he valued his reputation as a lettered man):

"Mr. FRODO BAGGINS, BAG END, HOBBITON in the SHIRE."

And there it is, one of the most important message to the fate of Middle Earth, and Barley muffed it. You see this was the note Gandalf wrote Frodo telling him to get out of the Shire right then, to find Strider and let him take him to Rivendell. That note would have put Frodo months ahead of the Black Riders, and in forgetting it Barley very nearly gets Frodo killed.

You ever get entrusted with something really important but super simple, something you figure anyone should be able to do no problem - and then you forget it?

By the time I read this book that repeated experience, and all its fallout, had been burned into my heart.

Frodo isn't exactly angry with Barley but he's confused and cross, and Strider steps out of the corner to call him a 'fat innkeeper who only remembers his own name because people shout it at him all day'. Even Gandalf is very aware of the chance Butterbur will forget to post the note:

" PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him."

Awesome. In five minutes he's gotten shit from the three most important people in the book.

And Gandalf definitely isn't done, though it ends up being better for Barley than it could have been. When the wizard finally gets away from Saruman, picks up Shadowfax in Rohan and gallops like a gale to follow Frodo's path, he arrives at Bree only a short time after the party has left:

' "Butterbur they call him," thought I. "If this delay was his fault, I will melt all the butter in him. I will roast the old fool over a slow fire." He expected no less, and when he saw my face he fell down flat and began to melt on the spot.'

`What did you do to him?' cried Frodo in alarm. 'He was really very kind to us and did all that he could.'

Gandalf laughed. 'Don't be afraid!' he said. `I did not bite, and I barked very little. So overjoyed was I by the news that I got out of him, when he stopped quaking, that I embraced the old fellow. How it happened I could not then guess, but I learned that you had been in Bree the night before, and had gone off that morning with Strider.

` "Strider! " I cried, shouting for joy. .."Ass! Fool! Thrice worthy and beloved Barliman! " said I. "It's the best news I have had since midsummer: it's worth a gold piece at the least. May your beer be laid under an enchantment of surpassing excellence for seven years! " said I. "Now I can take a night's rest, the first since I have forgotten when."

Gandalf even emphasizes to Frodo that Barley is no fool ("Can see through a brick wall in time"), which of course is why he was asked to mail the letter to begin with, and why everyone is so frustrated with him-- I mean, he's a smart guy, he can run a whole inn, *why can't he mail a simple letter for a friend, especially knowing it's important*?

A question that has resurfaced in my life, in one form or another, on a regular and never-ending basis.

And it's nice that Gandalf is good natured and generous about this, and I bet not a single hobbit ended up telling Barley years later all the trouble he had caused (though Strider might have), about Frodo's injury with a spiritual icepick, or the wild race to Rivendell, necessitating the intervention of an Elder High Elf (Glorfindel) the flooding of Rivendell's river, the near murder of the future King and capture of the Ring by the Enemy....

But Barliman didn't need to know - he knew it was important, and he knew he'd forgotten. And in my mind I know that it lived inside him for the rest of his life, like a little shard of glass in his heart, one of those things that woke him up when they day wasn't busy enough and old memories made their sudden full-color appearances. That a part to play in the matter of the Great War of his age had fallen to him, a chance to play a small part in the salvation of his entire world - and he'd gotten distracted and left it in a drawer.

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My Annual Post :D

2023-06-09T17:17:48Z

Second year here at the West Virginia Faire -- it is so chilly! And so beautiful!

I should go back to posting here more often. I'd get a lot out of it.

Last year, a year after coming back from The Shutdown, I actually took advantage of some of the things offered by RCEAF to take in a free month of Betterhelp. It was nice to have, but that first 4 weeks was taken up almost entirely by trying to find a therapist who both could and would work with me. (I travel, and if they're not licensed in the place I'm traveling TO- well, they can't help me anymore. Awesome.

But it really was helpful to learn some coping mechanisms for ADHD, one of which is - surprise - journaling. Thanks, lady, I used to do that and need to do it more!

Come to think of it there's a lot of that in my life. I used to do a lot of yoga and meditation, and I stopped. I should do it more. I used to practice Buddhism, and self-examine, and paint. I should do that. I used to play music just for fun. For hours.

Of course I did those things because there was nothing else to do, didn't I?

But they also made me happy.

I'm constantly wanting to do more for other peopel, but especially lately I keep running up against my own limits. - I simply do not have the emotional stamina to come through. That's a bit sad, too. I mean, you never have enough time to do *all* the things. But I used to try, didn't I?

And then beat myself up because I wasn't doing more.

OK, I am definitely too old for *that* shit. But what can you do instead? The second I start working out, gaining stamina, I find myself doing way too much, laying awake at 4 AM every day, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for morning. I really hate that too.

What is there to be done?

I suppose I could start by posting more here while I try to figure it out.

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"Send us your social media profiles and

2022-07-21T21:57:31Z

I am a word person.

I love writing.

So why do I get the jitters whenever I have to reply to a request for my band's social media / online shop?

Because we suck at both.

None of it involves writing.

I hate advertising, it's an industry dedicated to talking people into buying things they don't want.

The idea of having to stay on top of every new social media fad so we can endlessly throw our aging faces out into a scrolling universe full of younger ones just exhausts me and makes me sad.

And yet I know this is not how it is. My brain is backing up on me, and it's not reading things aright.

I'll come around, but sometimes I have to write down exactly how I feel in order to see all the flaws in it.

Gimme time, I'll come around. I've been feeling down and useless lately.

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Random Facts

2020-11-22T06:08:17Z

When my mom falls asleep in front of the TV she often still has one eye open. :)

Today is my friend's birthday. We haven't spoken in some time, and he's been in a care facility since September when he had a massive heart attack. I want to send him a card, maybe Jacquie Lawson via email. I feel for him, but my phone call to him was mostly spent listening to half-drugged distressed complaints about being a prisoner there, and there's not a thing I can do for him from here.

A friend just made a piece of non objective art based on our band, and it makes me super happy. It's up for auction and I'm bidding on it. :) Either way, I want it to be our next album cover.

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Many Thoughts This Morning

2020-11-07T14:31:45Z

--but not too many to write down, which is unusual.

Reasons I need therapy:

because I honestly do not know if the symptoms I am experiencing are the result of an innate disorder, or the result of my family and acquaintances augmenting their own status by constantly reminding me of my faults. Is that an identity problem?

Because I let things stop me. Is that laziness? Executive dysfunction? Plain disorganization? Is disorganization itself a problem when it's on this scale?

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Break:

2020-07-09T16:05:31Z

So I blew up on someone last night on my Facebook page. I had posted an article from the NYT about Sweden's immense failure to manage its COVID-19 cases because it tried for a "hey, we can trust everybody, just go out and do your thing, but behave yourselves" idea. Not a terrible theory, but it failed spectacularly, and they have more COVID per capita even than the US, by a factor of 4. They've done far worse than Norway, Sweden and Denmark by a considerably higher factor, countries who did the whole "stay in or wear masks" thing and enforced it.

I'm generally polite on Facebook, even to people blindly disagreeing with me, but I've been having problems with this one lady who has been dropping in long enough to say something that undercuts my post that turns out to be wrong, then leave without discussion or response, while my thread asks her what the hell she was talking about.

Yesterday's post she dropped in and started with "I didn't read the whole article, but did they mention that Sweden's average age is 42.5, as apposed to the 29.0 average in the rest of the world?" then she asked me what the average ages of the other Scandinavian countries were, finishing with "We wouldn't want to spread misinformation."

So there she was, passing off this bullshit about age averages in Norway, like that had anything to do with the price of tea in China, then lecturing me on posting misinformation *in a New York Times article* that she didn't even bother to read.

I deleted several things before I replied, "Yeah, I'm not sure what age has to do with the spread of the disease, since everyone can get it, but sure, I'm always happy to go look stuff up for you. The average age in Finland and Denmark is 42.5 years, Norway's is 39.2 years. There is essentially no difference in their ages yet they have done monumentally better in holding off this disease. Is there some point I can help you make? Look if you have any evidence drop it here. I might read it. I might not. I'm a little busy taking care of my aunt who's trying to get chemo in the middle of one of the worst outbreaks in the country because the governor of Georgia has his head stuck even further up his ass than you do. If she gets infected that's game over. But by all means let the governor keep prattling on about the economy, as though it isn't headed for another crash after his epic mismanagement. I'm a little tired, and don't have a lot of time for people posting bullshit statistics and insisting they get the same consideration as carefully fact-checked articles because they like their made-up facts better and want them to be treated as though they were real. So if you could drop your little dingle-berries on another page for a little while I'd be grateful."

That's not exactly what I said, but it's pretty close. Believe it or not it's not as harsh as the things I erased. She posted some "well you didn't have to get so personal" victim shit, and unfriended and then erased her comment, taking mine along with it, which is probably okay since, magnificent sarcasm aside, it wasn't the proudest moment for either of us. I guess what bothered me later was that I lost so much control. I was really furious, the way I don't let things make me.

But that stuff about my aunt is true. I've been here for a month, watching her get weaker, and everything about this process is made harder by this monumental failure, not just of our leadership, but our country's people, who can't be bothered to see past their own noses and exercise their own civic responsibility.

To be fair, of course, Sweden couldn't do it either-- it did require good leadership to make success happen. People are people , I get it. I can lay this firmly at the door of our country's leadership. They could have done so much to make this happen - they could have appealed to love of country and the need to protect it, it would have played just fine on a Republican platform, civic duty always does. But they didn't. Trump sat on his hands and kept trying to make everything about him. God, I can't wait for November.

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Love you, Bob.

2018-12-19T16:00:38Z

Bob Bielefeld died last Thursday or so.

I haven't been able to deal with it, we just rolled back into town that day, I just couldn't. We were tired from a week long move - I was numb.

Last night I finally went to the Dead Wren Dancing and Singing Society, and scrolled down the page so I could feel something. Bob deserves to be mourned, even if I don't feel like I have the right to mourn him.

He was such a lovely, gentle man for one so talented and committed to excellence. He was always so receptive and welcoming, and always wanted to include us in projects. He stretched out and played with everyone.

I could never step over that line and include myself. He was too good. He played with people who were too much better than me, I couldn't get there from here. He offered to change keys on jazz songs so I could sing with the Monday night jazz group, but I wouldn't do it. I tried a couple of times, but I was too self-conscious. They were having a great time, I didn't want to be the one who screwed up their night. Part of me suspected he was inviting others so that it would keep a practiced group on their toes. I could never convince myself to do it.

This is so blurry, but it's a video instead of static pictures. I like seeing Bob move, pictures are so static. He was so playful, his flute playing had a puckishness that showed his gentle sense of humor. And everyone else here is so good right along with him.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqWxuzeiBcs&t=130s

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My Honey is Down

2018-08-04T03:27:25Z

It's been an interesting year, one in which I've felt ready for what's coming. That included the death of my dog in April, and the death of my brother the day after that. I may never know if I made the right decision about my brother, but I know I did right by our dog.

G- is not feeling it so much today. He feels depressed. The blahs, maybe, but I know he misses our dog a lot. I loved him, but it read nothing like those two loved each other. G- is a dog person. I am very much about cats. So it's possible we never quite understood each other's pets. But my baby is sad and I want to make from feel better. Lacking that I'll put it here.

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Trying Thingsd You Didn't Like Before

2018-05-25T18:09:51Z

This has been a year of trying things I have written off in the past. As may be expected, it has mixed results.

American Gods was much better second time around, and reading the 10th anniversary edition with like 10,000 more words in it oddly made it better. I still think Shadow is a total cipher, but there is an understandable reason for it. He lost his love and he's dead inside. And for other reasons revealed in the story.

Game of Thrones is proving to be more difficult. It's brilliantly written, directed, acted, produced, costumed, lit, all that - and it's also about as joyless, loveless, lifeless, and humorless as a show can be.

It's purportedly about a few heroes in a difficult, complicated world, but 90% of the screen time is taken up by sadistic, stupid, arrogant or greedy people, occasionally all four, who for the most part have things go their own way. The few characters that are supposed to be good or likable go through a process of torture or death or corruption, occasionally all three. The show is full of toxicity. Everyone with an ounce of any positive quality is quickly ridiculed and rejected, while betrayal, cruelty and murder are swiftly rewarded with trust and power.

This is what happens when you take fantasy and cut out all the infrastructure of fantasy - the metaphor, the poetry, the heart.

Oh, except dragons that can burn everything down and shitty demonic magic. Let's keep that by all means, and add lots of female debasement and rape, everyone loves watching that it's so sexy! We'll call it realistic.

Obviously, the convention wisdom of this shitty world says, the only good way to live is to fuck over anyone you can get something from before they do it to you. And because this is the value expressed the majority of the time, and the two or three interesting "heroes" with any other perspective only get about 5 minutes time apiece, the general shittiness becomes the value expressed by the show, regardless of who eventually wins the stupid throne, which - oooo, look, it's a metaphor! How clever! -- yes, is a massive metaphorical trick. It's a throne made out of fucking swords. The second you try to sit on it, it's going to stab you in the ass.

I would only watch this show when I hate myself. Which fortunately happens to be the case.

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Memorial Day Weekend, Day One

2017-05-28T02:16:39Z

Wow. That was quite the day! I don't remember when I have entered into a three-day performance weekend more biologically disadvantaged. A serious cold that reset in the middle of the week was taking me into my second weekend singing with throat issues. It was actually pretty interesting-- started out singing okay, as long as I kept it low, then as we went more and more notes would become unavailable but I didn't know till I tried them out. It was like playing a piano where the keys kept unexpectedly falling off.

I can illustrate the coeval problems with a small one-act play in which all of the characters are my internal organs. Or my phone.

PHONE: Time to get up!

BRAIN: OK, guys, time to get up. Wow, nose, what have you been doing? And why am I so muzzy? I feel like I need to be brushed! Better get some cold meds...

NOSE: I need to throw up.

THROAT: Uuuuuugh sooore....

LUNGS: *honk* *honk* *honk*

UTERUS: Woohoo, party in the Kremlin!

BRAIN: *sigh* fine, add Ibuprofen to the list of meds...holy cow do I need coffee...

PHONE: Now I will turn myself off and on again!

first set

GI TRACT: Everything needs to leave.

BRAIN: OK, right after this set.

GI TRACT: Nope. Now.

BRAIN: *sigh* OK.

PHONE: Now I will turn myself off and on again!

2 hours later

GI TRACT: Everything needs to leave.

BRAIN: OK, just finish this set-- umm, this song?

GI TRACT: Nope. Now.

BRAIN: You know, we have a lot of time when we're not on stage to do this, why wasn't this important before?

2 hours later

GI TRACT: Everything needs to leave.

BRAIN: SERIOUSLY GI WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS 7 MINUTE GUEST SPOT IN A FRIENDS SHOW, WE DON'T *DO* THIS TO EACH OTHER!!!!

GI TRACT: Nope. Right now.

PHONE: Now I will turn myself off and on again! And on, and off, and on--gee this is fun....

The weather was also not being the bright spot in our collective outdoor lives that it has been. I am deeply grateful that it has been so pleasant these past 7 weekends, but man, going directly from 75 degree weekends to 95 (with 80% humidity) can be quite the adjustment. Fortunately I spent part of the time I was supposed to be recuperating this week in a spa with my friends, putting my body through extremes of temperatures more like 130-185 degrees, with occasional dips in a 60 degree pool or a 50 degree room. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the cold deciding it deserved an encore. (a stubborn part of me regrets nothing-- I was reluctant, but it turns out a day at a spa with your girls is like gold).

It being the last weekend there was also extra work to be done, as we are trying out a new act on the director and we needed to rehearse with out two friends in the quartet with us. By late afternoon I was actually getting into the swing of things (amazing how fast you can adjust to pouring sweat and brisk walking, playing and drumming. Still, people several times asked me if I was ok-- maybe I didn't look as well as I thought I did...? the fans are really sweet, one bought me a super spicy Mary from the bar.)

For a day that started out with my spirits pretty low, it actually ended up being pretty nice. By the time we got to unveiling our act at the end-of-day Pub Sing, I was completely unable to sing and our song choices were moved to accommodate, but they were good songs. We did pretty well, all things considered, and my harmony line was mostly low enough for me still to sing. People seemed to like what we did, and the director had some great suggestions later on. I hung in and played music during the rest of the pub sing as well, but it felt weird not to add the toasts and laughs and ad-libs that I usually do.

At last it was time to close. When we get to the end of the show our host always calls out the names of all the performers for applause, and someone always says his name afterwards so he gets a cheer as well. I waited for someone else to say it,(sometimes we fight over who gets to) but the moment stretched out, and no one did, so I squeaked out "And J--H--!" all by myself, and everyone laughed. They apparently wanted me to say it.:))

I came straight home baked some biscuits for T-'s place, and proceeded to stay home and write this instead of going out at all. C-- is on stage tonight at the Junque doing a crazy Irish storyteller character but I don't even want to laugh. nothing else tonight, and maybe just maybe we'll have this licked by morning.

And now - shower, a judicious application of OTC drugs, a good book, and ahhhhh, rest for the night!

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Jazz Night

2017-05-09T02:58:08Z

One of the gifts of Scarborough Faire is the lively music community, largely maintained by Jim Hancock. Sunday night jam, Monday night jazz night, Thursday night acoustic jam at Peter's glass booth,Saturday night concerts from on site artists. Heard there's a blues night at the hammock booth, but I don't know the crowd.
Tonight I brought the upright bass to the jazz night. Seriously intimidating crowd, everyone there is really good, but bass is, shall we say, not rocket surgery. :) It's still hard and embarrassing to be such a rank beginner, but it's obvious no one expects virtuosity,and Jim has been picking a lot of easy numbers so I can get my feet under me with the open strings. My left arm is super tired, but I feel like I'm contributing and learning, so I'm happy. :)

Other things I'm doing: ditching the $300 Rosetta stone Italian course my aunt sent me in favor of daily drills on Duo Lingo (Man, that is fun!), occasionally going over violin drills that I learned from TJ up in WI, and learning new songs for our new project, the BTM. :)

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More Good Things

2017-05-08T18:51:39Z

[3/7/2002 6:25:04 AM | Susan Hickey]
News! News!

I had to change the template-- I think it was encouraging me to write about sad things. Not that I don't do that anyway-- correspondents have noticed in the past that Im cheerful and perky in person and when I get in front of a
page, I can bitch until the cows come home, and then bitch at the cows. :P

But this past week there's not a lot to whine about, contrary to my whiny attitude for awhile there. The problem with having the bad roomie was he gets to be your outlet-- all the things that are going wrong for you right then you can get out by bitching about this poor loser. So now he's gone, and I have sudeny to get back to worrying about the music, and when am I going to write the next song, or put the one I wrote for Charles down on paper so he can sing it, or send J Michael that book I meant to send as a thank-you for recording with me?

So I'm all blue, wondering if I can actually make it here in Portland, and what will I do if I can't get more work, berating myself for even wanting success with the secondary job when I should be concentrating on the next thing with the music (and when are you going to record now?) when I check the mail and find out that that credit card I applied for I finally got! My first credit card! LLBean Visa, 5,000$ limit-- I have backup! Wahoo! I called Dana to celebrate "Great!" she says, "DON'T USE IT." Sheesh. My euphoria was completely greed-free (or, mostly, anyway ;)); I was and am just happy to have this one little confirmation of my life as a solvent adult, capable of paying my own goddamn bills, which I have been doing since college. The smallest of validations from my society, but I'll take it. :D

Other good things this week-- Went to Frank's and cut my demo. Got it back tonight, the master-- it sounds good! Frank was pretty up about it, and he's a fairly taciturn guy-- "take it to RiRa's" he said, they need more trad." I will, you can bet. Frank knows the little scene here pretty well-- I felt good, and suddenly the idea of this CD bringing real changes in my life here seemed very possible,and I was again psyched about it.

I came home and installed my CD-RW drive, and even got the part about switching the master and slave modes right. Very glad to have something install itself without a hitch (so far knock wood); I never expect it to go that way. It's probably the best policy with most of life, but we keep our wishful thinking, don't we?:P

Bob and Diana came back from their 8 weeks or so on the Continent and the British Isles-- they're so lovey-dovey you'd think they hadn't just spent a long vacation together. They'd be sickening if they weren't both so reserved. As it is they rate an easy 'cute' with an option on 'lovey'. :) We did a movie with Tad-- the Blue Something, a Czech WWII film which was a hell of a lot better in terms of delivery than Pearl Harbor. Though I am being unfair of course-- I expected a lot more from Pearl Harbor than it delivered-- it's hard to go see a Czech WWII film with anything like the same expectations. But even so the Spitfire footage was the most amazing aireal combat I've ever seen, -- even had me on the edge of my seat-- and the guys said it was the best Spit footage they'd ever seen in a film period. Good plot and acting, too. And not depressing, somehow. Not really sure how. Maybe because I was all set for it to be completely nihilistic.

Ok, other good things-- had a day at the Java Net cafe with The Artist's Way and enjoyed some quality time with self; got a list from my online family of Fun Things To Do That Are Free-- I'll post it later. Started a dialogue with a local DJ about good music, we've been emailing like crazy back and forth ever since I called her a brainless giggler. (I hate when the person you're bitching about responds herself, and turns out to be really nice.)

Finally finished Season 3 of Buffy with Bob today-- yay! Great finale! I *love* the Mayor. Got to see two really good eps, Buffy & Angel this week-- *really* love a good story. Applied to ManPower & Assoc. today, we'll see where that goes, my tests were at Master level for Word-- I'm a Word Master! Other tests came out well too. Finally donated blood, though granted on a bad day, Monday. I had just had a rather poor exchange with the temp agencies again, and was feeling useless and unwanted. I was about to work out when I saw the blood drive; I'd been meaning to give--today I just wanted to stand in a line and answer questions where *something* of mine would be acceptable
at the end of it all! For once the donating made me feel all woozy and unstable, so I went home & slept until 6, then stayed up til 2 of course... :P

OK, there was one more good thing this week, and I forget what it is... Oh, well, it will just have to be an unappreciated good thing for a little while longer.

Good night!:)

comments

Good Things

2017-05-08T18:49:45Z

[2/28/2002 8:15:00 AM]
And the biggest full moon in a long time has brought boons to my home. :)

Eric has sent the "get your stuff and get out" email to Tim. He officially doesn't live here anymore.

I called Frank last night and it's on for tonight-- I record my trad. demo. tree songs, and then I start burning copies and putting them out to local places. I kind of wish now I'd gotten it out sooner-- can you believe I forgot about St. Pat's??

Last night also heralded another month of active womanhood. I know it's a little silly to be grateful for that, and there are certainly months I wish it didn't hurt quite so much, but there is a kind of advantage to having a certain time of, well, enforced introspection. It doesn't happen every time, but most times it does. It's also the time I allow myself to have chocolate. :D And there is a certain pagan part of me that considers having it come on at such an amazingly full moon a good omen. Though I suppose considered from another perspective it should be exactly at the dark of the
moon.

Yesterday it rained and rained, harder all the time, all day. It was really good because we need the rain here, but it just felt good as a day-- it was warm and windy, and almost all the snow was gone, things were melting, crocuses starting to sprout their long green leaves. It feels good. If the next two weeks stay warm, we may get through to spring yet. Of course, I think it will herald an unusually cool, wet and foggy summer, bad for the schooner trade, but I don't mind if it will break this drought. Unfortunately, I'm not sure more unusual weather is the answer.

I stayed inside and watched TV, practicing guitar and doing stretches. It felt cozy to be inside with the rain going on-- it felt like spring. Actually it felt like winter in Atlanta, which is maybe what I'm missing. We do tend to idealize what is farther away, and trivialize what is close by. Which is why people cheat, I guess.

But that's another reverie.

comments

Update on the Roomie

2017-05-08T18:48:19Z

[2/26/2002 12:31:13 PM ]
Sorry to delay-- here's the note the roomie sent me. This was last week, we haven't heard from him since. I'll annotate afterwards.

Susan,

Well I guess first things is i am terribly sorry that all this has happened to you to Eric, and too myself. I have been in your position before like I said, so I really do know how you feel. But you also have to understand how I feel. Someone I let into my house that I thought I knew I could trust has stolen from my roomate and also stolen from me, things such as trust and saftey in our own homes. Eric said he does believe you really had money stoled, like I told him, I do not know you but in passing and conversation as well as the same as you dont know me other than that, nor Eric, so I didn't
know if this was some scam for me to lose money, I am not rich either I have school and loan payments, rent,bills ect. As for the bottles, I have replaced them and I do feel terrible. I myself am not drinking anymore for a
while for personal reasons.

I am sure Eric might of mentioned but I have been in New York, my grandfather passed away this weekend so we have the funeral and wake to go to. I have lost so much in my life, I dont want to lose a potential life long friend as I see in you. I cannot change what has happened, but I can try to make up for it. I do intend on finding out who has done it and I will get you a formal appology and if you would like to press charges from there, thats cool, hell I might even. I do not want you to not feel safe in the house, or that you can not trust me or what I say. I want to do right by you Susan, as well as Eric as I would expect for me. I am moving to Ogunquit in May so I am only staying for two more months. Thats two months I would really like to start and blossom a friendship from that with both you and Eric.

Im pissed because no body asked for this, someone came in from outside and fucked it all up. That person just so happened to come thru me, so I take responsibility. I will get you the money that was taken, Eric told me 100, is that correct? As well as the bottles and hopefully we can go from there. Again I appologize from the bottom of my heart Susan, you did not deserve this, none of us did. I will be back home probably on Thursday so hopefully you are around so we can talk? You can also email me here at hh46920@aol.com if you have anything you want to talk about now or just to say hi. My mind has been spinning about this and now with a death... im just gonna explode so
we need to get this resolved and move on. Talk to you soon Susan, xoxo Tim

OK, read it? Now, dig this. I read this on Thursday. On Friday I'm home alone and the phone rings. It's his mom, wanting to know where Tim is. I tell her I don't know, she seems confused. I say I was under the impresion that he was away on a family emergency. Now she says "*What?!*" I backpedal then, say maybe it's not Tim I'm thinking of; his grandfather didn't just die?" "No." she says definitely. I say sorry, and she says they were supposed to have dinner, she'd figured he was either here or at Brian's (his ex-fiancee). I told her I was sure he must be at Brian's and hung up. Fifteen minutes later I check my mail and get an email from Tim explaing that we might get a call from a ladyfrind of his calling herself his mother but she's really just an old friend of the family but she doesn't know about
his grandfather yet but he didn't want us to be freaked by that-- I could print it, but it really wasn't much more convincing than that.

So I told Eric when he got home and by this time it's funny.

Yesterday I stopped by the Westbrook Police Department and spoke to the guy there (yes, singular. Everybody else was out.) He said the best thing to do was just tell him to come get his stuff and leave. He offered to have an officer come stand by while he left with his stuff "To ensure there's no verbal or physical abuse to you." Sometimes it's nice to be a girl, but especially with the police.

We've decided now to rent his rooom to an old friend of Eric's, Mike, and to tell Tim to come get his stuff. I have to wonder if it will actually happen.

OK, done with the Tim saga. For now.

Going back to work!

comments

Update on the Roomie

2017-05-08T18:46:29Z

[2/25/2002 1:00:03 PM ]

OK, everybody wants to know 'what about the roomie'? OK, next installment.

The problem with this sort of thing is it eats up your time. In the past ten days we(Eric & I) have seen neither hide nor hair of our wayward roomie, but have had many a long conversation about him.

I got no calls from Tim in the week following Valentine's, though Eric spoke to him several times-- apparently Tim's grandfather had just died and he was in NY with his family. I don't know the complete content of their conversation, but Tim said that he felt terrible at what one of his friends had done, he wanted to take responsibility and pay it back, etc... Eric agreed to let him come back until he paid off the money owed to him and to me. I didn't get this at once-- I gathered it from the way Eric headed straight up stairs for two nights without a word. After I figured this out, I got a letter from Tim. It's really quite amazing, so I'll just let you read it.

comments

Update on the Roomie

2017-05-08T18:45:39Z

[2/20/2002 5:39:47 AM]
I should be zen about this. I should recognize my own part in the creation of this situation, and that when you look closer the whole thing proceeds fairly logicallly and predictably, according to personality and inclination. I should let him make good on his theft, and keep a lock on my door until then, recognizing his desire to return balance as well as his propensity to throw it off. If I were a Buddha, maybe I'd do that. I feel much more inclined to tell Eric that if he moves back in I'll move out, and accompany it with a long tirade on how he has lied to his friends, his lovers, and us
since the day he got here, he's not stable, he lives in a fantasy world created by his own lies, and if he's anything like the people I've known before, he'll do anything possible to avoid taking responsibility for what he did.

I don't *want* an excuse to let him back in, let alone a good reason.

I have to stop thinking about what I want.

I have to stop thinking.

comments

Update on the Roomie

2017-05-08T18:44:16Z

[2/19/2002 11:25:14 AM ]
I'm not going to say things are settled down a little bit.

But they may be.

The Tim issue is still awaiting its exciting conclusion. Our wayward roomie never came home that night, so the next day Eric just changed the locks, and sent Tim an email explaining why. Tim called soon after and spoke to Eric,
apologizing profusely for the missing items, saying he thought it was one of his friends, but he wanted to take responsibility for it and replace the liquor and the money. He was coming over Monday to work it all out. I asked him to make it Tuesday-- I wasn't cancelling attending Clarity's last Salon so I could catch up with this schmuck. I packed up Sunday PM and headed for Rockland. Man, did I need a break!

I spent Sunday alternating between acetic meditation at Bill & Saskia's and luscious lounging at Dana's. We talked and lounged and commiserated, and she demonstrated great forbearance by letting me ramble on about nothing,
under the influence of some fine Ravenwood 99 Zin. We talked about friends and movies and work and time spent on the boats, and told our favorite 'ohshit' stories and gossipped about the captains. The steam just blew off while we talked, until I leant back, feeling calm and smiley. The therapeutic value of intense yakking has yet to be estimated, but I'll go with a really lot.

Dana worked a half day Monday, so I spent it in Rockland, visitng Harry and Anice. Sometimes they're busy, but this time they weren't, and they invited me in for coffee. We talked and caught up, and once again the act of
comfortable conversation lowered my stress level. Sometimes we don't talk about anything much, but sometimes we don't have to. It's more important, maybe, just to be with familiar people, whom you feel you *could* talk about
anything with. And maybe lately that's been a valuable commodity.

PM I got back to Dana's, and commenced receiving instruction in the fine art of sushi making, which, she emphasized to me, she does not actually engage in. "I know how to do sushi well enough to get thrown out of a Japanese kitchen." she explained. I told her that should be the name of her class: "Dana's Sushi: How to Get Thrown Out of a Japanese Kitchen". She thought it would bring in a lot of business (not!) :D

The last Salon was as beautiful as we could have hoped. There was much elbow-rubbing, and much garlicky butter, bread, salad, lasagna, and of course lovely desserts that weren't garlicky at all, including a bouquet of chocolate cupcakes, each iced with a single pink rose, a la Lenie's incredible talents. Dana overcame her aversion to crowds and stayed late(yay!) and Annie came too(YAY!), and much visiting, playing, talking, listening, singing and reading of poetry was engaged in by all. Got back way late, didn't care, and got to my assignment on time today. I'm working in the city codes dept for a couple of weeks. Nice folks.

comments

coffeeteaandme @ 2002-02-15T09:13:00

2017-05-08T18:42:02Z

[2/15/2002 6:01:13 AM |]
This has been an amazing week. All spikes on the charts.

I'm sitting here at my console, about as tense as I've ever been. There's a thief upstairs, sleeping.

I flew in last Thursday and Mike Marsh picked me up-- we haven't seen each other in years. He and a new Dana & I sat til 5 at a diner talking like we'd been there forever. It was good.

Friday was JoAnn's day, relaxing and I spent it with her. Saturday J Michael & I recorded at Michael Morrione's studio. It was a great experience, and I don't know how to thank the people in it properly-- except to go ahead & make the CD...

Damn. I don't have the heart to do more than enumerate all that happened right now. We got out of the recording session feeling completely knackered, but when we got home it was time for the sisun at the house, so we reenergized, and stayed up til 2 or three. There were me & J Michael, Walt, Charles, Fiona & Jeffrey, and Kelly & a friend of hers, Priscilla. The music is a wonderful thing. No hangovers, of course.

Sunday was the Goddess Tea, and it was one of the best. Everyone stayed and talked until at least 5 or six, then we had residual company for several more hours-- I drove Sandra home at 10.

Monday I rented a car & went to see Shawn in Carrollton, and Tuesday I flew home to La Guardia. I got a train to Huntington and a taxi to Mom's. Got in my car and drove off with all my baggage. It was so good to be driving again,
the weariness of the day went away and I listened to the humm of my little Toyota. I love my car. The trial was over, we were headed back home, where we belonged.

On the LIE the engine stalled. We kept rolling, and for some time I tried to start it again. It didn't. No smoke or odd sounds accompanied the event, no smells or fluctuations in power. I pulled over to the side. Traffic went by. I called Mom, and she began the process of driving 40 minutes late at night to pick me up, because she's my Mom. A tow truck came and took me and the car to a station. The driver's name was Glen. Mom came and we went back to the house. The following day I called the mechanic and he told me it was the timing belt that died, 400$ to replace all the belts.

I hung up and stared at the floor. I growled. Then I screamed. I didn't hold back. It didn't help, so I screamed again and again and again, breaking and cracking. It didn't hurt much. Nobody came. I curled up on the floor. I had 23 dollars in the bank, and a job three days a week. I wanted very much to have life stop and wait up for me.

There is one good thing about completely decompensating-- you get it all out. After awhile I stopped wanting to scream. I forced myself to call Mom and arranged to borrow the money until I could pay her back. I called Tim and
told him what happened. In a scene unplayed for many years by us, he calmed me down and told me not to worry so much about it, it was counterproductive. I calmed down, went downstairs and worked out on the machines, watching Sleepy Hollow. Good movie. Eventually my car was finished, and I took it home to Maine.

I got in at midnight, and left for work in the morning. I had lost a day, and the message from the temp agency had said to be there for *sure* the next day. I left early, 7:15, to be there by 8.

An hour later I was screaming again, behind the wheel of my perfectly functional car, at the freak traffic that was stopped through Biddeford, stubbornly preventing me from getting more lost than I already was. At 8:22 I drove up to an empty locked office, whence a very frustrated lawyer had just exited for appointments. At at nearby payphone the agency explained that the assignment had been terminated. I hung up, drove home and took a shower. I didn't scream. At this point I was in the state of mind that I imagine happens during torture, when you stop all protest, and simply wait for it to be over. It was 9:30AM.

I called my old temp agency, ADECCO. They took my information and told me to call back in a week. I got dressed. The phone rang, Adecco calling me back for an assignment that begins next week. I put on my clothes and went for
a briefing on the job. It was Valentine's Day, so on the way back I stopped by my old job, FBR, where they'd invited me for their luncheon. It was very good food, and people were glad to see me. I met the woman who'd replaced me, and she gave me the number of her friend who is a musician in Portland, and invited me to her potluck Friday night.

I stopped by my nearby new assignment on the way back to check it out and score points with the new boss. Mission accomplishhed, I worked out at the club and went home. It was 4:00.

At home I asked Tim about the lowered levels in my liqor bottles and the state of my browser, which comes up on the last thing it's visited, and made me think someone had been on my computer while I was away. He was shocked and
dismayed to think it had been one of his friends, and assured me he'd ask them about it and replace the liquor. He went out with a friend. Alone at last! I turned on the TV and for once poured myself a long drink. I really needed to relax.

It was water.

Bad thoughts occurred to me. I went into my desk and took out the little lunchbox I keep my future mandolin fund in.

It was 100$ shy.

90 minutes and no relaxing (but no screaming) later, Eric came home, the quiet, corporate roomie from whom we rent. I showed him the bottles and told him what was up. There were some long silences after that, but for the next hour I cooled off and we talked about what to do. Tonight Eric's coming home with new locks for the doors, and tomorrow we'll confront him with the evidence. Today--
Current Mood: indescribable
Current Location: Home

comments

Hate it - In a Good Way

2017-05-08T18:34:14Z

[2/4/2002 3:34:19 AM | Susan Hickey]
I wonder if anyone will read the actual post of my day at the bottom of all the ediets posts below.... Just a PSA...

Michael has gotton back to me, it looks like we're set for this Saturday-- looking forward to it,no not uneasy or stressed out about it at all...

Of course some stress might be because I'm starting the new assignment this AM, and I'm just a little worried and insecure after being let go from the other assignment with much kindness, true, but with no warning for all that. And if you can be sacked because you're going for your captain's license, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it---oh yeah, I can do that-- let's see...keeping my mouth shut about myself....forget it, we're all gonna die....

I watched "Atlantis" last night-- a very good Disney-- kind of wish I'd seen it on the Big Screen. Times like that I'm glad I'm not very political, because I couldn't enjoy Disney I think, if I read too much about The Mouse...I still remember my friend Andy Offut Irwin working there, and getting shit because he asked for his middle name on his nametag (there was already an Andy there).

Almost finished with they lyrics to Charles' song-- I hope to play it for him this Friday or Saturday... maybe I could even play the little interlude, and remember the bridge...

Anyway, it's time to go work out--yaaay, wahoo! Gogogogogo! :i

comments

Hate it - In a Good Way

2017-05-08T18:30:36Z

[2/2/2002 6:57:56 PM | Susan Hickey]
Topic: Hate it -- in a good way :D

I started the thread below on ediets, and got a pretty good response. In context, the ediets posting board is a cornucopia of helpful advice, proactive suggestions, and supportive, friendly travelers on the common road to good health. In my first week, I was in a mood to hear none of it.

SUSANSRH

Posted on 01-16-02 3:44 PM
Reply Delete Edit More

This is the thread if you're on a low swing. There are threads aplenty for
us when we need encouragement or guidance-- this is for those on the
bottom of their mood swing, at the end of their patience, at the lowest
blood sugar you can have barring hypoglycemia. This is for those who are
like me today-- and we all get these days, we just won't admit it. Days
when you could care less what the meal of the day is, because your
coworkers have yet again placed a large candy dish in front of your desk.
When your stomache is clawing its way up your chest, your head is
pounding, and the act of resisting what your body wants is slowly using up
your whole hard drive like a virus.

I hate my diet. I hate it with a fiery passion that knows no release. It
is the right thing for my body, but my body doesn't know it--all it knows
is that the things it has grown used to are gone. I hate my diet with much
hate. It makes me suffer, it makes me irritable, it delays my projects and
slows my mind while it eats my patience; it makes my stomache hurt and my
head ache, and for all of these things I hate it. And every time I swim in
this hate like a cold black pool, I say this:

I am goddamned if I will go through it more than once.

There is cursing on this thread, I warn you, and invite you. If diets
didn't have such a hold on us we wouldn't need ediets, so post, post, post
your bitches, gripes and complaints, petty, selfish, ranting-- there must
be a place for it here-- just so we can read them over later & laugh.

SIDNEYLOU
Posted on 01-16-02 5:40 PM
Reply More

Susan! I am laughing out loud at my desk and my co-workers are thinking
I've lost my mind! That was SO funny--because it was so true!

I HATE ALL OF THAT TOO! In addition, I hate skinny people who eat like
hogs, and I hate the people who eat three donuts like it's nothin'!

I hate the entire Hershey Corporation and whoever dreamed up the satanic
idea of ice cream sandwiches.

I hate my best friend's perfectly formed legs. I hate my co-worker's
dedication to go swimming every morning at 5:00 am, when I barely make it
out of bed to make it to work on time!

And, the thing I hate the most is WATER. I hate water. I hate going to the
bathroom every 20 minutes, and I hate not drinking pepsi!

Thanks for letting me vent. I feel much better now!

Mary

Gettingreal
Posted on 01-16-02 5:53 PM
Reply More

Oh, thank God, a thread for my evil twin!! I have now blown over an hour
that I should have spent working on a project posting here and there,
because I needed a way not to go get one of the cookies left over from our
meeting. If my IS department ever decides to audit how much time I spend
here, they are going to make me give back some of my paycheck! I tried
very hard during the meeting to remember that the skinny, blonde, young
women who were eating chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies, while I
drank more water, are both my friends and my mentees, and that I do not
REALLY want them to develop elephantiasis. I will seek you out on my dark
days!
Pam

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-17-02 12:35 PM
Reply Delete Edit More

I'm with you on the water thing-- magic weight loss potion indeeed-- the
only thing magic about it is that it makes me disappear from my desk every
twenty minutes.

My stomache will *not* stop hurting--I want to tell myself there's
something medically wrong, that I *have* to break this plan or imminent
medical disater will occur. But I remember this, it happens for about
three days. Antacids help a little, but my stomache takes three days to be
convinced that the meal truck is not coming at its request. The demon is
dying a slow and painful death. Die, die, you tyrrannical f----r! At times
like this I feel water hitting my stomache like a white shower, cooling
off the irritation.
It's one of the few times I'm glad I drink it-- Jesus, how much water are
we supposed to drink? Are we really suposed to get used to visiting the
can every 30 minutes for the rest of our lives? I'm going to get callouses
from wiping between my legs-- I'll have to invest in my own bath tissue
just to keep it from running out every day.

This sucks. I ask my coworkers to stop putting this dish of chocolates in
front of me at the reception desk and they just smile and say I'll have to
learn self-control. Why, please, do the postal workers get to have all the
fun?

It's like having a four-year old at your skit, tugging on you every
fiveminute-- "can I have some chocolate now? Now? How 'bout now?" And
every time I say no. She will ask me thirty more times today and I will
say no. Not "not yet", not "maybe later". I hate this little girl, and she
hates me for saying no, and we have solidarity in hating our diet.

Did I mention I hate this?

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-17-02 12:41 PM
Reply Delete Edit More

YI meant to say this first before I got caught up in my own rant-- yes,
yes, post! Very good! Whine, bitch, cry, use foul language and defame your
vegetables! Say bad things and feel good about it! Be a diet bitch here,
so you don't inflict it on people you may want to borrow money from
later..;)

MICKEYWICK
Posted on 01-17-02 1:22 PM
Email Reply More

Hey, I am three days new here..so I may not have hit my extreme bitch mode
yet..but I am feeling the pain already.I WANT SUGAR!!!I would be happy
with a slimfast chocolate shake right now, just to get the taste of
something sweet....I am a stay at home mom who is around temptation all
day, so be thankful you ladies have work to keep your mind off of things,
at least for awhile?My three year old constantly wants a "snack"...and
will not accept a yummy carrot....Talk about will power for me....Hope
this makes you feel better, even if this is suppose to be a hateful place
to be...

KELLY221
Posted on 01-17-02 1:39 PM
Reply More

thank you thank you! just the fact that someone wrote everything i was
thinking.... helps me... i'm not alone..but damn this sucks, my nylons are
cutting into me... i'm too lazy to go get some water from the office
bubbler....it sucks!

HEATHER
Posted on 01-17-02 2:00 PM
Reply More

God, I know how you feel. I have finished my exercise today, and I feel
like Sh**. My arms & legs feel like lead, and I haven't done a single
thing but watch tv.
I would like to curl up with a glass of wine and watch tv for the rest of
the day.

LESLIE2002
Posted on 01-17-02 4:42 PM
Reply More

LOL, Susan this is brilliant. I was just at the gym, and although I was a
good girl and did my 40 minutes on the elliptical, I was thinking the
WHOLE TIME: This is the worst 40 minutes of my life. This is the worst 40
minutes of my life. It DID NOT make it go by faster ! :) I DO feel go
afterwards, but somehow the cardio exercise just is pure torture to me, I
know the minute I reach my goal I'll stop and probably sabotage myself
again. But I know I won't lose without it, my fat is CLINGING TO MY BONES,
dieting alone only makes it laugh at me.
And WHAT IS UP with cravings? I don't feel deprived on this diet, I
actually think there is plenty of food. But last night, as I couldn't even
FINISH my dinner, I was wandering around the house, searching searching
for something else... I don't even know what. I DID have a glass of wine
and watch TV Heather, hahaha, that actually helped! Rant on ladies!!
>:D

SIDNEYLOU
Posted on 01-17-02 5:05 PM
Reply More

My hate of the day:
I hate the dirty bastards who put the junk food vending machines where I
have to walk right past them every single day.

I especially hate the jerks who intentionally stock them with all my
favorites, and NOTHING that is low fat! Would it kill them to stick in
some non-fat pretzels? Or at least some Baked Lays potato chips? I think
it is a big conspiracy contrived by the skinny people. Apparently, they
think their ranks are full and they don't want me to join them. Well, TOO
BAD. Whether they like it or not, I am going to be a skinny person, just
out of spite!

Mary

MICKEYWICK
Posted on 01-17-02 5:09 PM
Email Reply More

Leslie...You feel full?!!How long have you been doing this?Maybe your
stomach has shrunk already...Today was the first time I felt I could
actually go without my snack if I had to, I mean I would'nt die or
anything....but of course I ate it for lack of better things to do.
It makes me hungry just listening to how much everybody works
out........:)

WNNABSKNY
Posted on 01-17-02 6:00 PM
Reply More

I'm feeling your pain-I was on the chat line yesterday, inquiring on the
very issue of the vending machine monster-their ideas?!? stay away from
it, don't bring change to work, there is nothing in there you want. Do you
want to know what I say? I say bullshit-I'm thinking of sneaking into the
lunchroom in the middle of the night and smashing it to pieces!!!!! ok, i
feel better

LMBENNER1609
Posted on 01-17-02 7:10 PM
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Hey....this is the Moderator of this board. Whose idea was it to start
such a negative thread????????

I LOVE IT!!!!!
hehehehehehehehe
what a great place to vent. I loved all the stories.

LESLIE2002
Posted on 01-17-02 7:26 PM
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MICKYWICK, I have been on 3 weeks. I used to never eat meals. I grazed at
night. So breakfast is new, snacks are new... multiple things for lunch is
new, certainly cooknig a real dinner is new. The portions haven't bothered
me as much as me missing some seriously starchy carbs :)

PPARNELL
Posted on 01-17-02 9:18 PM
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I hate the idea of dieting. I hate feeling like I'm depriving myself. And
I hate the idea of admitting to myself that I need help.

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-18-02 12:31 PM
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Leslie, we had paralell experiences this week-- I was talking to my
personal trainer last night--muscular and buff rather than skinny, I like
her-- and she asked me about my week. I told her it had gone okay, though
Thursday I'd felt very tired and sore and gotton there too late for yoga.
The exchange went like this:

"Did you feel better once you got here?"
"No, I was deeply tired and totally depressed. But I worked out for 30
minutes on the elliptical anyway."
"Ah. That made you feel better, didn't it?"
"No, I hated it and left feeling cruddy. But I did it."

Maybe what I'm trying to break here with this thread is that it doesn't
matter what you feel like, you still do it. Kicking, screaming, bitching
and clawing doesn't make the fat go away, nor should it stem the tide of
the process.

But it sure as hell makes you feel better sometimes :D

OK, back to the negativity. More chocolate this morning, and I haven't
touched one since I started this thing. Yay me! (Screw this diet!!!)

SIDNEYLOU
Posted on 01-18-02 1:00 PM
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Susan--don't leave me hangin'!

What did Ms. Buff Personal Trainer say after you said, "No, I hated it and
left feeling cruddy. But I did it." ?? Surely, she had some tidbit of
"wisdom" to make everything all better.

The personal trainers at the gym I just joined have put up these "cutesy"
little motivational sayings up all over the walls of the ladies locker
room, and that drives me nuts! I just want to rip the pink papers into
little bitty shreds and stomp on them! Hey--that would be considered
exercise, wouldn't it?!

By the way, I love this thread! I am so glad to know that there are others
like me who HATE this weight loss/healthy lifestyle crap as much as I do!
I believe that venting rage burns calories! AND--I am sure that my friends
and family prefer that I tell yall about how much I hate this rather than
them! Besides, my skinny friends can't relate to my disgust with the
Keebler Elves and my utter hatred for the creator of the wonder-bra.
(Aka--I WONDER why it hurts so much!)

Mary

NoOnesAngel
Posted on 01-18-02 1:56 PM
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You know what I hate? I hate that my almost perfect boyfriend can eat
anything and everything and doesn't gain a thing!! (As a matter of fact
he's lost more then I have since the New Year) He's constantly munching on
cookies and other snacks. Sometimes I just want to SCREAM at him! But I
don't because I know it's not HIS fault. Still, why do men have the GREAT
metabolims when WE are the ones who are asked to be thin and lovely our
entire lives!?

Shawn

GOMARKEY
Posted on 01-18-02 2:13 PM
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I hate the Food Channel- I think Emeril must be stopped!

I hate the way they show Grace (from "Will and Grace"- thurs 9pm) always
eating cookies and other sweets on the show- please, like she even EATS!

I hate the "fat" clothes in my closet and the lady at the dept store who
looks at me and automatically knows my BIG size.

I think whoever invented little debbie snack cakes invested in Big and
Tall stores.

I hate that little debbie snacks are only .25 cents each at the store.

I hate that they put the candy near the register at the grocery store!
There IS a reason I skipped that aisle!

AND... I HATE water... isn't there some way to have it intraveniously
(sp?) injected while I sleep?

Thanks for the vent space- I feel much better now!

LESLIE2002
Posted on 01-18-02 3:13 PM
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Sidneylou, I know what you mean about "sharing" here vs. with others. My
office mate (who is a man that eats chocolate donughts every single day in
front of me but doesn't gain an ounce) is so sick of me just going on and
on about weight and diets, giving ounce by ounce reports on my water, and
of course covering for me while I sneak out early to the gym! :) I am sure
he will celebrate as much as I will when (oh no, not if, WHEN) I reach
goal, because then I will SHUT UP about my weight and talk about something
else (probably my hair, lol).

My hate for the day: CONTROL TOP. I want to throw up wearing these things.

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-18-02 4:01 PM
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Sorry, Mary-- after I told Melissa I'd worked out and felt *crappy* she
stoopped trying drop the fitness pearls of wisdom-- I like a girl who can
take a hint....

So glad you're getting gratification out of this thread, like me. I'm
considered normally cheery by my friends, but I'm also pretty high-
energy, and this is great for blowing off steam. In a way, it's a
terstement to how much more energy I actually have now-- now I just have
to channel it! :)

OK, I *habe* to stop using these cute little smilies on this thread--
stop, stop, bad Susan!

MICKEYWICK
Posted on 01-19-02 8:55 PM
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Okay...the hate has not been flowing here for a little while, so I will
add one that we probably all can agree on....I HATE WEEKENDS!..it is
soooooo difficult for me on the weekend not to cheat when my husband and
children are shoveling in Pizza and chips during the football games ...I
WANT some!
Ususally my day off of cooking is Saturday where we all go out to eat for
something yummy...today I had to say no while the rest of the fam went out
to eat.I just know I could not be a good girl and order within my
limits...I don't want to fall off the plan, or gain anything back for fear
that I may never start again!
Okay, I'll get off my pitty potty now.I am hatefull today!
Mickey

JACKIEGABB
Posted on 01-19-02 11:53 PM
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I hate that my husband can lose 10 pounds by only eating one scoop of ice
cream at night and I have to count every morsel of food for three days to
watch the scale move down a miniscule amount.

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-22-02 2:35 PM
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My mantra while I shop-- "Who ARE these people? Who buys these things?"
'Hello, can I have 7 eggs, 2 oz. of low-fat peanut butter, and 6 ounces of
pineapple juice please?" What the hell is that? And what the hell are they
doing putting *cream cheese* in a burrito? What's wrong with low-fat sour
cream? Do they have no shame? This is ridiculous, buying tubs of
ingrdients for what turns out to be a single use all week- I spent 60$ for
just me this past week! Paid, too, for the priviledge of preparing it all
myself-- I have no time! I'm busy! Look, there's the Little Debbie endcap,
25 cents and there's lunch--easy! AAAUUUGH!

OK, now *I'm* laughing. Time to stop.

LESLIE2002
Posted on 01-22-02 4:38 PM
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I thought the food thing was weird too at first, but stick with it, those
ingredients will come back again! I was throwing out extras until I saw
the continuum, ohhhh.
But I DO buy a lot of stuff at a bulk store, it is so cute, I have tiny
little baggies of wheat germ, bulger, granola, and its cheap!

My hate of the day: MICROWAVE POPCORN. I try to focus on my job, but I
work with all men who snack snack snack and the smell of that stuff KILLS
me, as I sit here with a stupid apple, whose only approximation to buttery
popcorn is that it get stuck in my teeth.

FIATLUX2002
Posted on 01-22-02 8:34 PM
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I am a Canadian so I am of course addicted to donuts which are a diet
nightmare (especially these great things called Timbits 20 for $1.99)! So
I call my hate my diet days -'donut days'. These are days when all I
really want is to eat 20 Timbits for breakfast. I have been following this
diet for two days now and I have had two donut days so far so as you can
tell it's going well...

JAYEADON
Posted on 01-23-02 9:46 AM
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I am loving this thread! This is a great idea.

I hate that I have to think about loosing weight all day EVERY day. There
isn't a time that I can forget about it and go about my business. I have
to plan for the gym. I have to plan my meals. I have to find out where we
are going out to dinner so I can plan what to order that will not blow it
for me. I have to will myself to NOT order dessert. This is maddening!
Every hour of every day is consumed with planning!

Oh yeah, I also hate jeans! They are the most uncomfortable things ever
made. What are other choices for casual wear that are not jeans?

I hate "big" clothing stores. all the clothes are hiddeous (sp) and tents.
Why can't you buy a cute cocktail dress in a "big" store? Every dress is
just 100 yards of fabric rolled into a tube with another 100 yards made
into a jacket.

I also hate stores in the mall that have signs in the window: " We now
have size 0". Gee, thanks for rubbing it in.

HEATHERO36
Posted on 01-24-02 7:11 PM
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I hate the skinny people who spend so much time at the gym. If I ran for
45 mins, I wouldn't need ediets.

SUSANSRH
Posted on 01-29-02 2:28 PM
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OK, this is good! Lots and lots of venting, and I feel better. Ladies, I
am pleased and proud to be associated with women so verbally adept at
expressing their frustration. (Is that a high-end way of saying
bitches?:D)

More later, as the 28-day cyle repeats!

Susan

NO EXCUSES MO
Posted on 01-30-02 11:14 PM
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OMG! A thread just for me! I will be back! Please don't let this thread
die out in the next 3 months!

Mo

JANELACEY
Posted on 02-01-02 9:54 AM
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What a great thread, I've never posted before, just read them every now
and then for inspiration or at least a good laugh. I really like this one.
. .a place to vent. I'm in my 4th week and have lost 10 lbs, yeah me, but
I'm 5'4" and now 170 so a long way to go before it's over. My two best
friends at work are skinny minny's. One is an aerobic teacher and the
other is 5'7" and kma if she weighs 100 lbs. It's kinda funny though, here
I am obese and there she is anorexic. She has to buy size "0" and then
take them in for alterations because they're too big!!!! I really pray
that I don't have that problem. Just thought I'd finally join in. Keep up
the good work.

LESLIE2002
Posted on 02-01-02 11:09 AM
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I HATE my period.
I was doing great. I was exercising, eDieting, water water water, happy
about being in control,
THEN...
in one fell swoop I lose it. I am so bloated my clothes are back to where
they were 5 lbs ago. My body rejects all things healthy and demands carbs.
I eat twice my allowance for dinner, then "NEED" to wash it down with two
glasses of wine.

Why does our body do this to us?? ARGGGGGHHHH.

SUSANSRH
Posted on 02-01-02 11:50 AM
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And what the hell is up with my body?? I haven't been following the diet--
I've been following *under* the diet-- yes, my hunger is less, and I work
out cardio vascular 4x a week and yoga twice a week-- and no loss for 2
weeks! Grr!

Fine, I'll extend the workouts from 30 to 45 minutes and add weight
training. Phooey!

Copyright © 2001 eDiets.com, Inc. All rights reserved.

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coffeeteaandme @ 2002-02-02T09:44:00

2017-05-08T18:28:24Z

[2/2/2002 6:44:58 PM | Susan Hickey]
Grey skies all day yesterday, freezing rain, damp and ugly. Stayed in all night. I woke up late last night to my printer doing it's opening calisthenics; the power had flickered. I went back to sleep and was awakened later by the moon shining through my window, bright as a searchlight in a luminous midnight blue sky. I don't mind being wakened much, so I laid there and looked at it for awhile before I went back to sleep.

Was so sore this AM in my right hip, as though I hadn't skipped out on 2 days at the gym. Probably a menstrual thing, since I started today. I did some yoga to make it better. It really makes a difference, I remember doing it with Gerry & JoAnn when I was a kid, and with Shawn in college. I'm glad it's followed me this far-- my flexibility is coming back pretty quickly.

Stayed in all morning nursing the hip and loitering, then met Tad for a second viewing of LOTR. *Such* a good movie. Ian McKellan is incredible. But it's the world I am grateful to Peter Jackson for. When I see the Shire, I get all misty-- someone else besides me loved this world, spent untold childhood hours wandering in it, living in it, dreaming about it. Any one of us, dropped into any part, could find our way to Bag End by the landmarks, and run up to the round green door with eager feet. I don't think I'm some kind of geek for loving this tale, and I feel sorry for people who do. It seems to me people find their truth on whatever path they walk, and however different the paths are, the truths are pretty much according to the kind of person *you* are, not the kind of path. Maybe that's why I don't read so much as people would expect me to with all the imagination and daydreaming I've done. I think a lot of people think of stories as entertainment -- a broad counter for a lazy mind to rest on. I'm interested in stories that get inside you,
make you think. If you don't want to call someone up afterwards and start getting into the whys and hows, or if it doesn't stay with you, making you question things around you or see them in another way, then it's not really worth the time you spent on your duff looking at it.

Okay, 'reading nazi' speech over.

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coffeeteaandme @ 2002-02-01T08:31:00

2017-05-08T18:25:15Z

[2/1/2002 5:31:08 PM | Susan Hickey]
By the way, add 3 hours to all posting times-- this is Portland Maine, not Oregon! :D

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Hi. This is Me.

2017-05-08T18:24:29Z

[2/1/2002 5:10:55 PM ]
Got through my last day at work today! I am going to miss those people, but it was also good to be finished with a job, and know that it was well done. They were all over themselves saying I was fine, really. They...were just looking for a *permanent* person...I reflected ruefully, while I was still recovering from the fired part, that even when I try to tell myself I want to settle down and put down roots and all, people still see the gypsy and I'm just lying to myself. Fuck. But I can still go to the February party-- they invited me-- twice. That was nice.

But just for awhile there, if they'd asked me to stay....

Driving in Portland is the *weirdest* experience. I have never seen so many slow drivers occur in a metropolitan setting *ever*. What are they doing?? The street is four lanes wide, with just two lanes to drive in--we can't pass and these people are going 30 MPH, slowing before every light, whether it's red or not, and braking if it so much as turns yellow. After four miles of this on a morning commute I start to worry that they will actually hear my screaming, because my car is now three inches from their back bumper, and my face is pressed so close to the windscreen that a quick stop would break my nose.

Perhaps in response to this, I have also encountered in Portland some of the most aggressive drivers I've ever been cut off by or been bright-light blinded by. It's actually harder to deal with here than in New York or Atlanta, because there it's all a pattern and you know how to react. You know that everyone you encounter is focused with a needle-like precision on arriving at their destination in the smallest number of microseconds and the fewest millimeters that can possibly be contrived. In New York, you *know* that if you slow down just a little at an intersection, the other car is going to go ahead. Here, it's like a kind of automotive staring contest, the opposite of chicken. The other car may slow just as you do; each generously waiting for the other to go. Eventually you both come to a stop, and you can sit there at a polite impass for confusing moments, all cars behind you steadily, stoically beepless, before one of you finally breaks and goes first. It drives me nuts.

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coffeeteaandme @ 2002-01-30T10:39:00

2017-05-08T18:21:25Z

[1/30/2002 7:39:06 PM]
Just lost my post-- dammit!!

OK, briefly-- Lost my assignment todaqty, effective after Friday. Bummed me out all day. Cheered myself up by going
to a college hangout called The Well and playing for the students, which they loved, and they rubbed my bruised ego
and all was made better. More later-- Candy's online!

comments

Hi. This is Me.

2017-05-08T18:19:41Z

[This is me in 2017 taking the entries I copied from my old livejournal, called Open Mic, and placing them in their proper dates and times. I'm correcting spelling and in this case finishing the last sentence]

Hi-- welcome to open mic. like most open mics, there's probably nobody listening, which makes you feel more
self-conscious, rather than less as you might think. It wears off soon, though.

This is my public ranting space-- it's just more satisfying if you think *someone* might be listening.

This is also my space to tell stories I may want to tell to more than one person, but don't know who those people are yet. It has marginally more integrity than cutting & pasting the same lines to several people in an email.

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