some stuff happened two weeks ago, people have been asking for explanations or details or whatever. This is the best I can do right now.
I went crazy, as a result I lost my job.
In a nutshell (ha! I’m so punny) that’s the most distilled version. The longer version is still being worked out.
I’ve been actively fighting demons in my head since I was about 10. That’s 25 years of fighting, and the last seventeen of those years have been actively hiding the worst of the worst from the world. It’s exhausting, really really exhausting. Eventually, all of my mental strength was being used on keeping everything seeming normal. I could not do anything else, like work.
This has not been an easy time, obviously. I do not have the words to describe what David means to me. I’ve shared this story before, but I will tell it again as it accurately describes the person David is for me when I need him.
A couple summers ago, David and I were down in New Orleans. One day we took a ferry out to Ship Island in the Gulf to spend the day at the beach. There were porpoises and this big crab and some jellyfish. Very quickly, a thunderstorm rolled in and everyone cleared the beach. The safety ranger dude told us we would be safe in the water so long as the lightning did not come close to us. We could not pass up the opportunity to swim alone in the ocean, especially with such a beautiful storm just close enough.
As we swam farther and played I noticed that my feet could no longer touch the bottom, I was too short. I also noticed that David was holding me. He held me and did the swimming so that I only had to lean back and relax. I could enjoy the buoyancy of the ocean and the display in the sky and he held me there.
And that is David. He is not one that says “I’m going to rescue you” or “look at what I am doing for you”. You just slowly realize that when you needed him most, he was already there; that he will hold your head above the water not to be a hero, but because he loves you.
I am more than lucky to have him. I do not know where I would be right now if not for him.
As for my brain? Well, we’re aggressively upping my meds, I have a psychiatrist and a therapist and I can check myself into the hospital as soon as I need to. Do I know about current popular NYT bestselling book on beating the crazies or current popular Oprah guest who specializes in making you not crazy or current popular herbal supplement that cures crazy? No, I probably don’t, but please don’t bug me with it. I am an ardent believer in science and will stick with those things that are proven by accepted scientific standards to be effective. I’m not saying this to be a dick (though if I wanted to be a dick I probably could given that I’m crazy and all) it’s just that…wait, you know what? I am a dick. I don’t buy it. I just don’t believe that cures come in “Currently Popular” or “Bestselling” packages.
Anyway, my health and well being are being monitored. I am taking my medicines and seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist and my psychiatrist’s boss.
Will I get better? There is no real “better” with this. It’s not a scale on which we can measure things. Mostly, we are shooting for fighting the demons so that I will once again be able to function as an adult. I do not know how long that will take.
I do not write this to worry people or to gather sympathy or words of encouragement. I write this simply to be informative. Also, apparently, there is much anger amongst my former co-workers. Being that not much information was given out initially, rumors filled the open spaces. I can assure all my friends at MCAD that I was not a sacrificial lamb thrown on the alter of some higher conspiracy. Seriously, there are so few people in this world who can create and maintain an awesome conspiracy and those people just don’t work at MCAD. It’s just one of those things. Big conspiracies are hard to do and if you are really good at them you could be doing better than a little art college in the midwest of course.
I won’t write much more on the topic here. Writing this allows me to mention being home in the middle of the day n a Tuesday without people saying “why aren’t you at work?”. I also just wanted to answer many questions in one jab instead of individually.
Otherwise, you know what? things are going to be okay because I own a frilly pink dress

Recently, Minnesota’s biggest source of shame and bewilderment, Michelle Bachman, took a trip to ANWR to check out the situation and get behind the the drilling team.
She came back and had this to say:
“It’s almost like you have a kitchen full of little children that are hungry and want to eat,” said the Minnesota Republican, a mother of five and past foster mother of 23. “The pantry has a lock on the door, but the pantry is filled with food.”
Via Star Tribune
Now, I don’t care where you stand on the whole drilling in ANWR debate, but we have to be realistic about this. We’re not little children, pitiful and starving while wholesome and delicious food is being kept from us. Really, it’s more appropriate to say we’re a mass of fat gluttons in the kitchen and the pantry is full of Twinkies and Hot Pockets.
When using that “small pitiful child” metaphor, maybe you should use it in conjunction with a situation that is truly life or death. Like the fact that there’s all this “medical care” out there, but small children don’t have access because there’s no money.
As Americans, this fuel situation really has less to do with bad people starving us to death, but stubborn people with a sense of entitlement. I hate the fucking $4 gas as much as the next person, but I also admit that my car is a gas guzzler and that if I don’t want to pay $88 to fill my tank I will have to drive less.
Being hungry isn’t a reason to be given Twinkies.
Honestly, I can appreciate both sides of the ANWR and I believe that either path will lead to the same end.

So, I get the whole advertising thing. You have a product and you want to trade that product for my dollars. Cool, you show me your product and I decide. Then someone has a similar product and so the two of you must convince me that one product is superior over the other.
There’s a pretty good system in place where a company with a product pays to show its product to me. This money helps to subsidize small crochet oriented magazines and Hollywood’s blistering cocaine habit. I’m still with this. I understand and accept that in order to keep the cost of my magazines reasonable there will be some advertising in the magazine and that advertising will be directed towards my interests (like yarn stores and bongs and hippo leashes).
Also, the ads are clearly labeled as such. When I flip through my magazine it is clear to me what part is an article and what part is advertising. And, if the magazine is good and pure, they will discuss products from a neutral point of view and not as thinly veiled corporate whores.
Stick with me, I’m going somewhere with this.
Now, mostly I’m talking about magazines because I don’t watch tv and the few times that I do happen to see tv I end up yelling at it (or yelling at the person next to me to turn the Puppy Bowl back on or I will disembowel them). I’m not really in a position to write about tv advertising (except that it pisses me the fuck off and I can’t stand it and it makes me want to people).
To recap, I’m not opposed to advertising so long as it is clearly labeled as such and it helps to subsidize a related product that I want to purchase, like a magazine.
What I am really opposed to is blatant product placement in movies! Look, it’s obviously not subsidizing the movie or I wouldn’t have to pay 8.2 billion dollars just to get in (and this doesn’t count popcorn and Icees!). Yesterday we took my cousin Rosalie to see the Get Smart movie (my review…meh). 110 minutes of ads for Post-it notes, Vino scooters, GMC SUVS (one minute they’re in a Yukon, the next they’re in a Denali. Each shot requires the camera to linger on the nameplate of the car) and Chanel. Man, fuck ass. I already paid to see the movie, I didn’t get any sort of discount or break and I have to sit here and watch commercials.
Commercials that aren’t even labeled as such. Jackasses. Of course as part of their partnership or whoredom or brimstonic pact with Baphomet they are required to show the product over and over again in various panning shots.
and y’all wonder why I’m so damned crabby all the time!
On a completely unrelated note:
There’s a repair dude in the other side of the duplex and whenever he talks he sounds like a toothless with a mouth full of mushrooms trying to tell us that Timmy fell down the well. Jesus! Be quiet man! His tone and pitch are so weird I picture him stumbling around in his white painter’s pants and talking on his Nextel Wiener450 Super Beep Phone. To complete the picture, he’s listening to “oldies”. Why is it that in the almost 3 decades since the 70’s ended they haven’t managed to add to this “oldies” array?