walter

Today is for silliness and ridicule of the kinds of silliness that we just don't like. That means I have a rant in my head but I'm going to leave it at that and move on to Gotye:

Great music, interesting lyrics, and I like his music video (see below). I also saw him live-ish on Saturday Night Live and thought he was damn good for being on a tiny stage on a late night comedy show. His new album 'Making Mirrors' is out now, and if you want to know a little more go here. For some more: fun details.

Now that we've covered Gotye/Gaultier/Wouter/Walter, let me say just a little something about people who are condescending or who question your integrity and treat you as a young thoughtless person (when you clearly are not). Surprisingly, I am not speaking about anyone's treatment of myself, but treatment of another. It can be more irritating sometimes.

I suppose life would not be nearly as interesting without thoughtless people who have no skills in the "how to treat others" department. And so I pose the question: Who doesn't know the Golden Rules?

I'm pretty sure I can sum them up quickly; I've known them for a long time. I think most everyone should know them by about the time they, oh, learn to stick a fork in their own mouth without poking an eye out. Difficult, yes. Impossible, no.

Because you asked, and because I am more than prepared to share, here are the Golden Rules as I understand them:

Share when you're in the sand box, don't throw toys at other kids' heads, and don't pee on people.

It's pretty straightforward.

photos courtesy of soundslikerl

two feet and a fist

Our health industry is "interesting." I've never really had to take part in it except for that one time I had a concussion, the other time with having my wisdom teeth removed, and a pretty consistent "lady checkup."

Maybe my upbringing had something to do with it. We didn't visit the doctor's office when we had a cold, or when we sprained an ankle. Our parents seemed to know enough to take us in when they thought we might have a broken arm or when we seemed to need stitches (which means there was actually something the doctors could do).

You could argue they just got lucky.

Far be it for me to judge as I've only been visiting my new doctor for two years. But I will. (You knew that was coming.)

I am frustrated. Beyond frustrated actually, as here I sit another month into a grueling "what the what is wrong with me?" adventure.

With the help of a nutritionist and some serious online sleuthing, I finally got my doctor to take me seriously and do a series of blood tests. It just so happens that my thyroid was not in awesome working order, also my Vitamin D levels were super low (duh, considering I live in Seattle).

The thyroid issue can happen for a variety of reasons, and a pretty ridiculous percentage of people (women and men) have thyroid problems. Lots more probably undiagnosed. My numbers weren't outrageous compared to some, but for me they meant: not sleeping through the night, feeling exhausted (like my limbs were filled with lead) no matter how much sleep I got, feeling cold ALL of the time, hoarse voice, lack of creativity (and I'm a designer in every aspect of my life), low excitement and grumpy/sad/moody. If you know me, then you'll know that is not normal. The list goes on and on, but those are some of the big ones.

As for the Vitamin D, I take a 2,000 IU capsule every day and I haven't gotten a cold all winter (except for that one time when I forgot to take my Vitamin D for a week).

So I'm on a low dose of thyroid hormone for the rest of my life. It has helped a lot in a lot of ways, but I'm having episodes every month or two that include:

Feeling like I've-been-hit-by-a-truck tired (regardless of 'sleeping' 9-10 hours a night).

Not able to sleep through the night.

Nauseated to the point of hovering over the toilet.

I stop cooking (which I love, and do typically every day).

I don't want to see anyone (and I live for my friend visits and catching up time).

This makes me unbelievably sad. The thought of seeing someone and having them ask, "Hey, how's it going?" makes me cry.

Literally.

This is not normal. I know it's not normal. And yet, when I visit my doctor or call to make an appointment for a blood test they say, "Well, you are getting older. Try drinking a lot of water for a week and see what happens."

I've been drinking 5 or more 22 ounce bottles of water a day. That's 110 ounces of H20!!! I only weigh 20-odd pounds more than that! I'm nearly drinking my weight in water every day and I feel awful. I don't drink coffee, I don't drink alcohol more than once or twice a week (yay for Saturdays!). I've been working out. I don't work long hours. I eat mostly home-cooked meals. My breakfast is yogurt and granola with blueberries. I think I could do with some more salads but I don't drink soda and I don't smoke. I watch my salt intake. I am not pregnant.

It comes in waves for a week every month or two. I've been back to the doctor three times to ask about this, as I read it could be side effects from the medication. She responded, "I really don't think so."

And here's where the judgment comes in: If you only have 15 mins with a patient once a year (unless they're a total irritation like me and come back four or five times) you are bound to make assumptions regardless of knowing next to nothing about them. These are most likely pulled from lots of reading, and lots of people who need a doctor to give them drugs. I don't want drugs. I don't even want the ones I'm supposed to take. I just want a definitive answer to figure out why I'm swinging like a pendulum from feeling pretty good to feeling totally, unbearably awful, on what is becoming a regular basis. I want the person who paid outrageous amounts of money and spent long, intense hours studying to help me.

Apparently it may take more than fifteen minutes. I'd like a second opinion, and perhaps you could refer me to a specialist. Or at least understand that I'm not making this up and that after 34 years of life lived in a pretty clear-about-myself state, I might actually know a little something about how I am feeling and that it's not a lack of hydration.

It's just a thought.

photo courtesy of savvy patient

pretty messy

This photo is so lovely!

I like the Bohemian 60's French apartment my mind wanders into, the scent of fresh market flowers and the chime of jars filled with cheap champagne. The garden courtyard rings with laughter and the sound of a bicycle bell as the nerdy teacher in his tweed suit (with elbow patches and one shoe untied...) rolls in from his afternoon classes.

That's about it. I could add in details for the pretty print on the table cloth, and the fresh strawberries from the window box. There are the pretty cloth flats near the front door (with its brass handle and the A-line jacket hanging on its hook), the tea kettle with it's bright blue lacquer and the pretty white dishcloth hanging from the oven.

If I can't live in France and sip wine with my pretty French friend, at least I can twist my hair into this messy Chignon and add a little extra eyeliner. It's almost the same thing.

photo courtesy of This is Glamorous, courtesy of hiphipgingin

new and tiny

Lucy Katherine was born on the 26th of May.

She's perfect and tiny, with lots of black hair and copper skin.

Her mother is blonde and has lovely alabaster skin with freckles. She says she couldn't believe it when she saw her daughter for the first time and thought, "That came from me!?"

(The father is from Venezuela, he may have had something to do with that.)

I heard her gurgling and chirping over the phone, her tiny week-old voice hardly a voice at all.

She sounded pretty cute but I'll need photos to confirm it.

Welcome to the world, Lucy.

fire and rain

After a very wet winter, spring seems to have come at last. Two straight days of sunshine, nearly 60 degrees (elated, I tell you!) and the world seems happy. But not the whole world.

There are a whole lotta folk out there right now, waiting for the Rapture. The End of Days. And it's supposed to happen on 21 May, or, if you haven't been looking at a calendar: the Day after Tomorrow. All this according to some guy who first thought it was going to happen in 1992, but then re-sorted the data and biblical evidence and found that with the new calculations, (and the extra 19 years to jot down a few notes and do some research): the new end is later than expected but really very soon.

Some people are making jokes about it. Others are freaking out. I'm pondering the idea, and thinking back to Y2K, and that not-so-fateful New Year's Eve count down. Remember when we thought all technology was going to crash and civilization would fall because of some 1's and 0's!? I bought a few gallons of water and extra candles. A little part of me was sad that we didn't get to camp out at home for a few days as things got situated.

And here we are. From what I've seen, there is always someone expecting the end of the world, and there always has been. It's like the study they did with high schoolers where something like 97% of those studied (I honestly have no recollection of the actual percentage, but remember it being incredibly high) admitted that they thought they'd die before high school ended (the cause being mostly that they could not conceive of a life in a world that did not involve school and living at home). Scary.

I'm going to continue to believe in mystery and all of its wonders. I don't know what the day after tomorrow will bring, but if it's anything like last Saturday, I'll be digging in my garden and enjoying the sweet scent of soil and the sound of buzzing bees.

Just for fun, here's a blog from December 2008 talking about another anticipated End of Days - January 19, 2009. (This is where I got the nuclear fire ball photo, too.)

bears - because we all need something cute to distract us from apocalyptic concerns

worried blinking baby - you know it's bad when babies are worried