Thursday, December 12, 2019

Overwhelmed by Ennui


12th December 2019

Pivotal date.

The idiots who can’t count are saying tonight’s the last full moon of the decade. I have to wonder what kind of arithmetic their schools taught. <>

The election in the UK. Those of us with hearts are praying the Tories are ousted. We’ll see. There’s an election news blackout until the polls close at 10PM GMT. Frankly the US should do the same.

19 days until 2020. That just sounds unreal to me, a child of the 50s and 60s. 2020. We should have shuttles to mars and flying cars by now, and world peace and equality, right?  HA! Instead we have ignorant, racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, corrupt sexual offenders as leaders in at least two of the biggest economies in the world and their sycophants thinking it’s okay to act accordingly with impunity.

43 years since my dad died. The single worst day of my life. For weeks I just wanted to die, too.

It seems it’s a watershed moment for me. I’ve had wake-up calls before, usually I just go back to sleep. Somehow, today seems different. To put it in context, I’ve lived with depression probably since high school. For long periods of time, it didn’t seem to bother me, or at least I didn’t think it did. I’ve taken bupropion (trade name Wellbutrin) for years for ADHD, but it also helped with the depression.  (I’d tried Zoloft, which I don’t recommend unless you are really into frustrating sex; and Lexapro, which did away with the depression, but also any feelings at all. Grand! I’m no longer depressed, but I don’t give a flying fuck about anything. Not my cuppa.)

This isn’t any sort of oh-my-god-epiphany-wake-up-call, one that is supposed to change my life (I’ve had those before and they were red herrings). Rather it’s quite the opposite. In the past, I’ve posted cheery, upbeat things like “I’m making progress!”  “Imma get this shit done now.”  Etc. etc.

Today, in the wake of what seems a disastrous—at this writing—election in the UK, keeping the bloody Tories in power and putting the NHS in dire danger (among other things), I look at my house and me and realise I’m overwhelmed. Not just by the pile of crap, but by the enormity of the task. By the enormity of my fuck-all mood. I literally want to do nothing but go back to bed.

Overwhelmed by ennui. And dustbunnies.

Monday, October 28, 2019

Calling out Epson

Epson.com engages in extortion. Period. My Epson WF 2860 was working just fine with after market cartridges until the latest firmware update. Now it won’t recognise them.

 At all.

 I’m furious because now I have perfectly good cartridges that are at least half full and the bloody printer won’t work. If I want to print I’m going to have to go to Office Depot, pay through the nose for Epson’s ridiculously expensive cartridges THAT DON’T LAST AT ALL!! I have too much to do for this crap.

Yes, I realise that is how printer companies actually make their money on these cheap printers, but it’s extortion, plain and simple. I wouldn’t mind so much if the cartridges actually lasted, but they don’t. You print a few things and they’re suddenly only half full.

Capitalist games. Fuck you epson.

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Another delaying tact.......erm, I mean blog post

Today's task:  Clearing this

My tip of a kitchen table atm.

so I can finally combine my mother's ashes with those of her German Shepherd and two cats, Xanth and Q.

I'm flying up to stay with my brother next month and we're finally going to take care of setting her ashes to rest. She loved Missouri. Even though she was born in Texas, she always said she was from Missouri because she spent her first nine years there, in the farmhouse built by her ancestors. My grandfather lost it in the Great Depression  and they set out in a 1936 pick up with a top on the back, headed to California, but made it as far as Colorado, I think. But that farm was always 'home' for her. The house is derelict now, if it's even still standing, and Mike and I probably couldn't find it anyway.  But she also loved the Lake of the Ozarks. Her brother, my uncle was born in a cabin which is now at the bottom of the lake. My grandfather was the medical officer for the company that built the Bagnell Dam, which "impounds the Osage River."

So...Mike and I are driving down there and will set an urn that's designed to float for a bit, then "gracefully" sink, and finally disintegrate in the water, returning the ashes to the ecosystem.

Opening the box the ashes are contained in is going to be hard for me; I've literally put it off for two years, but it has to be done. I'm also setting aside a very small bit to take to England and Ireland with me in March. She never got to go....


Where our heroine beats up on herself...again.


Pretty sure I’d started a blog post somewhere (on my iPad, perhaps?), but not fussed to find it at the moment. Something about some project or other that I’ll probably never finish *sighs*

I see You-Tubers having existential meltdowns and wonder how they manage to do what they do. I have all sorts of ideas about videos and even do my work as if I’m narrating a video—don’t you laugh, you all know you do it, too—and have the tripod, the clamps, the ring light….but know fucking good and well I’ll probably never put myself in front of the camera. I’ve put a couple of really lame videos up and one that’s not too bad, and maybe…

But that’s not why I’m here. Today is a rant about something kind of related, and I think I’ve ranted on this before (no, not the moron in the White House; don’t get me started), but it’s reaching a ‘fever pitch’ asAdele sings….

The rant is this: why do I continue to deny myself the things I love to do by not digging in and getting rid of the clutter and getting things organised? That song is more relevant than you might think. I could have had it all…but I’m my own worst enemy. I know I can do anything once I put my mind to it. Moving cross-country and getting my degree despite the odds and nay-sayers proves that.

So why on earth do I look at the mounds of my art supplies, fabric, and my yard that needs work, and just say, I need to get X done so I can do the things I like?  Is it a kind of self-punishment? I know I’ve suffered from extreme lack of self-worth all my life, but extending that to self-denial (as in denying myself the things I want to do) is a tad OTT.

I make lists. I make plans. I make promises to myself. But all I do is sit and watch YT videos of other people keeping them.

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Planner Envy and other bits of boringness.


PLANNER ENVY.

You know, back in the day, guys used planners. My dad used Day-Timers for YEARS. He called it his brain. Women tended to use desk diaries, but the more women came into the business workforce, you saw Day-Timer offering femmed-up versions and planner purses, etc. I had Day-Timers and planners long before it became the huge THING it is now. Soccer moms, Sunday School teachers, people who think they’re really busy but aren’t, teenagers, have all gotten on the planner bandwagon. There’s been a proliferation of planners like Erin Condren, Plum Paper, Happy, you name it. If you came across this post because of the hashtags, then you probably know all the brands better than I, and all the stickers, pens, tapes, subscriptions, pantookas, and gorbnobbles available.

Nine tenths of which are solely designed to separate you from your money.

With the BOOM in planning popularity, planners are in every shape, form, colour, design, and have gotten really pricey. Plus, Acco Brands now owns most of the well-known names in planners except Erin Condren (not including ones like Leuchtturm1917, etc):  Mead, At-a-Glance, Day-Runner, Calendar Express, Five Star; they’ve even bought up Day-Timer, for fuck’s sake!

Some grand goal-planning for 2019 includes writing more. In my little box mind, I was thinking on the novel, but writing here and in my character blog are also writing, yes? I’ve added “W-writing” to my habit tracker (cue raucous, derisive laughing here). Before you asphyxiate laughing, the habit tracker is not keeping track of daily habits (except taking blood glucose readings), but just a general, keeping track of how often I do things.

Speaking of the tracker, I have:

M—Morning glucose;
P—Post prandial glucose;
BP—Blood Pressure (I don’t have an issue with this, but sometimes when I go to a doctor, it’s slightly elevated, more than likely from just getting out in traffic, etc.);
J—did I work in my Studio Art Journal? https://www.jamieridlerstudios.ca/the-studio-yearbook/ or any other Journal?;
A—Art;
W—Writing;
L—Learn:  my Irish lessons or any kind of research;
E—Exercise or work out, including my PT exercises;
H—House:  work on painting, repair, decluttering, etc.
LV—bLog and/or Video
F—Family projects like the ass-ton of photos from my mother’s place, or her letters, or all the stuff from my grandfather’s effects, boxes of books and chotskies to be sorted, sent to people or donated.

Again, these are not only a reminder to do certain things, but to keep track of just how often.


At this time I think well, I’m not working anymore, why do I even need more than a simple little “old man pocket calendar”?  I swear, you can’t even find the ones I’m talking about anymore, they were about 2”x3” and literally fit into a man’s shirt pocket.


Back to my planner planning. I’ve tried the big Erin Condren and Plum Paper planners (virtually the same, by the way) and I don’t think I actually finished a year in either, even though I used them for several years (I put all my planners from work in the big shred bin when I retired, but I think I finished out several of those all the way). But those are just too big to carry around and too much space goes wasted in them for me. If I just wanted to keep track of appointments, a simple month-at-a-glance would suffice, but there are other things that go in a planner…isn’t that why they’re called p-l-a-n-n-e-r-s?

I’ve tried starting DIY planners before and I think I got rolled up because there were too many future dates for work. 



But….I don’t have to bloody include job-related shit in my planner any longer HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!

I’ve been watching a couple “bullet journalers” on YT and random others if they pop up and look interesting.



Everyone has such slick, pretty layouts and lettering. Anything but plain printing or a version of this




ends up looking like a 2nd grader did them. They have this pretty script lettering, that…yeah.. *eye roll*

https://bit.ly/2rYk7TP like I could do that. Not.


Updated:

I was going to use the Lemome bullet planner (the one I have has been discontinued), but decided to finish out my ‘notebook from hell.’ I got it a couple years ago from Office Depot for about $6, I think. It has graph-ruled paper in it and is roughly A5 size. It has everything in it:  Notes on my novel, notes on my blog character, designs and plans for things like my studio and the reno of my pantry, mind maps, DIY calendar pages, to-do lists, travel plans and lists…you name it. I’ve covered the cover, front, back, and inside with various stickers. I’d do a flip of it on YT, but it would be the most boring flip-through video ever.

There are quite a few (about ¼-inch thick) pages left, so I’d just rather use it for now. When full, it will not be thrown away as it will still be a valuable reference.

 

Front Cover

Back Cover

Notes for the pantry reno

Year forward

395th version of the studio/living room plan

 So a whole lot of what I previously wrote might go by the wayside, just sayin’.

As for updates, I had the ‘dreaded scope’ this past Monday, nothing alarming, but the doc did take three biopsies; keep your fingers crossed.

And I’m finally getting the bunion on the right side done. They’ve been giving me grief for a loooong time. Got the left done probably 15 years ago, maybe a bit more. They did the big one on the inside, the little one on the outside and I had a four-inch steel rod in my second toe to straighten it. This time, just the big one on the inside.

Any Questions?