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Fourth Wall… a Day as the star of my favorite movie.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fourth-wall/

I don’t really have a favorite movie.  I love *so* many movies that it would be impossible to pick a favorite.  However, if the criteria were to be in which movie I would like to star, well, that’s a different story.  There are perhaps half a dozen on that list.  It would have to have lots of romantic music in it, and a handsome costar to serenade me because unlike real life, in the movies… the men chase the girls.

I would take Debbie Reynold’s part in “Singing in the Rain” in a heartbeat.  To sing a duet and dance with Gene Kelley would be a dream come true.  Pardon me while I get lost in the fantasy for a moment.  Ok, I’m back.  Reality intrudes.  I would never make it to the part where the curtain goes up revealing me as “The true voice you heard in Love Tonight” (or whatever it was Gene said to the audience.  To be accepted as I am would be more than I could hope for.  I’ll settle for staying behind the curtain, being Lina’s voice and Don’s love.  *sigh*

Reader’s Block

Reader’s Block

What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without reading a book (since learning how to read, of course)? Which book was it that helped break the dry spell?

The only time I can ever remember not reading was after I had an MVA in the 90s. I didn’t appear to have physical injuries from it so I just went back to work. Several years later, I realized that I must have suffered a brain injury in the accident. I was starting to regain memories suddenly, and I realized that all the people over the past several years who had been giving me such a hard time were actually right and I was the one with the problem.

I didn’t read during that time. Not a lot of stuff made sense. Also, with the getting older, my eyesight was starting to fade and I was having trouble focusing. I stopped reading altogether. I turned instead to movies to fill my need for stories.

I started reading again mainly on the computer on various social sites. Learning what was happening in the lives of friends who were distant from me gave me the incentive to study the words and glean their meaning. I guess I formed new neural pathways to replace the ones which were damaged because slowly I began to remember how much I enjoyed words.

Then, I won a book in a raffle, “Romancing the Ordinary: A Year of Simple Splendor,” by Sarah Ban Breathnach. It’s a book of monthly wisdom, a plan for enjoying each month, rather than spending most of the year wishing it was your favorite season. I, of course, opened to the then current month and started reading. It was wonderful and soul-filling and, rather than put into practice her suggestions, I reveled in her tales, reading each month in succession until I had reached the end of December, then started from January until I was back to the current month.

At this point, my need to read temporarily sated, I started to implement some of her suggestions into my life. This book is filled with ways for women to recapture our sensuality, our love of the taste, sight, sound, smell, feel and wonder of the world around us. I’ve had the book for several years now, and whenever I find myself getting stuck in the depression that pervades my life, I open Romancing the Ordinary and find some inspiration to help me climb out of the darkness.

Since then I’ve read a few books but not many. Now that I’ve accepted my fate and gotten several pairs of reading glasses, I keep thinking that I need to incorporate more books into my life. Still, I hesitate. The computer fills the time I used to use to read. I am faced with a conundrum, do I give up the computer so I can read or try to share the time? It seems as though there isn’t enough time to read a book anymore. The books I do read are usually “How-To”s, instruction manuals of one sort or another, usually craft books. *sigh*

/dp_prompt/readers-block/

Dazed and confused??

I must admit, I’m at a bit of a loss when it comes to blogging.  I’m okay with the stories.  Been telling stories since I was a little kid.  I just don’t get the blog thing.  Widgets and links and such.  Customizing pages.  Getting organized.  And figuring out why certain words in my posts are in different colors and have links to things… that I didn’t put there.  I wish I knew how to remove them.

Basically, that’s why I’m here.  There is so much to be learned about getting things set up on a website.  I have grand ideas.  Once I figure out what I’m doing, my website will really rock.  Or is this a blog roll?  Or just a blog?

I guess that’s a big part of the problem there, huh… I don’t know the lingo.  When you have to stop and figure out what each word means it’s really hard to pay attention to the content of what you’re reading.

This is the problem I have in getting started in most new things I try.  I need to study the subject, but that makes it seem too much like work.  I want it to be fun.  I want it to be fun NOW!  (said in my best Verruca Salt voice).  I don’t want it to be hard to learn.  I want a tutorial that walks me through each step and changes things, step by step, to show me what can be done and how to do it.

Now, I realize that in order to have a tutorial that walks one though every step possible would be a huge undertaking… probably be so unwieldy that no one, including myself, would be able to use it.  There are too many things you can do with your blog, or website.  Or whatever this is.  But that’s why I need it.  Too many choices.  How can I decide what I want or need when I don’t know what’s available??  How can I, with my limited time and attention span, wade through thousands of widgets and other thingies, trying them out to see what they can do and then deciding whether or not it is right for me?

Isn’t there some sort of help for people like me who want to do this but haven’t a clue as to where to start?  Ok, technically, I did already start.  I have this blog.  I’ve written stuff.  I’m following a few people and even have a few who are following me.  But how to customize baffles me.

I tried signing up for Blogging 101, but life exploded just before it started.  By the time I got things under control and had the free attention to give it, a week had passed.  I tried jumping in on the current prompt, but it wouldn’t let me post anything.  I suppose I could have just gone back to the beginning of the series and done the work independently like a mature adult, but I want someone to take me by the hand and offer me suggestions about how to do things.  This whole “being an adult” thing is way over-rated.

If you’re still reading, thanks for being here and listening to me rant about how unfair life is, hehehe…  I still have trouble making the connections that I took for granted before my MVA in the 90s.  This is really hard for me, and I am grateful for your moral support.  It helps to know that someone is out there who is paying attention, who cares a little… even if it’s just to laugh at my dilemmas.  I don’t mind schadenfreude at all.  Better her than me, you might say.  Or poor Rua, silly little thing has so many problems.  It’s ok.

If you have any suggestions for things that might help me navigate this mess, that’s ok too.  Send me a link?  What widgets do you use that you find helpful?  They may not be right for me, but I have to start somewhere.  Recommendations from folks is probably the easiest way, especially those folks who understand the difficulties in starting a new project, the difficulties of working with a brain injury or diminished mental capacity or how hard it is when the choices are just plain overwhelming.  I’d rather just be whelmed, thankyouverymuch.  😉

One-Way Street; which way to go???

One-Way Street

Congrats! You’re the owner of a new time machine. The catch? It comes in two models, each traveling one way only: the past OR the future. Which do you choose, and why?

Wow, that’s a tough one.  I don’t think I would be tempted to use either one unless it came with some sort of safety switch.

How could you be sure that you would not materialize in solid rock and be instantly crushed to death or, far worse, slowly suffocated because you can’t get out?  I mean, seriously… Even Time Lords don’t have perfect control over their TARDISes (or would that be TARDII?) as evidenced by the show, Dr. Who.  Granted, if I knew I would regenerate into another life form upon my death, that might make the choice easier, but I don’t think I’m ready to risk ending it all just for the sake of a little adventure.  Also, I want an automatic reset button in the option package, so if I don’t like where it takes me I can come back here.  I also want a device to help me understand and speak the local language, whatever it happens to be, so I’ll need some sort of translating device.

Now, assuming that it has a safety control to prevent materialization in a hostile (to human life) environment and the automatic reset button and universal translator I’ve requested, the decision remains, forward or backward?

If I go back in time, I could meet all sorts of interesting people, and I could take with me things that would make life easier, like medicine to ward off plague and such.  However, in the past, witch-hunts were real and sanctioned, being a woman I would undoubtedly be suspected of consorting with the Devil.  Meh, some people think that of me now (no, I don’t… although I *do* like to play Devil’s advocate when I get the chance).  Although I’d like to take stock info back with me to the 50’s or 60s in case I got the urge to use the automatic reset button, probably my first stop would be late Elizabethan times as I’ve always been fascinated with Henry the Eighth and his most famous daughter.  I might stay there long enough to see a play by that new upstart, Wm Shakespeare (or the popular Chris Marlowe).  It would be wonderful to learn the tunes for the songs in his plays.  Then, moving backward in time, I’d meet King Arthur and Merlin, assuming they were real and not just a very compelling story.  I’d meet with Joshua ben Joseph, currently known as Jesus, and listen to his sermons.  I’d travel to the Library at Alexandria and scan all the documents so they wouldn’t be lost, or better yet, have copies made of everything and then bury them someplace far away in a time capsule to be found in my current lifetime (by me of course, thus securing myself a place in the pages of history).

Of course, traveling to the past has some serious concerns for me… one wrong move and I could change the course of history for all time (think about the movie, “Back to the Future” if you’re not getting it).  That could be problematic, not knowing which random act might cause a chain reaction that would end up causing a catastrophe.

If I go forward in time I think it would be safer, especially if I can reset to current time and place.  I could find out which stocks would do well, when to buy and sell, make a ton of money so I could live my life in relative comfort.  I could find the people who invent things of great importance and give them financial and moral support and the encouragement they need to create their inventions.  It would be very exciting to see the future, especially if I could reset.  It would be reassuring to know that the world still exists in 10,000 years, or not.  Not knowing is harder than knowing even if the subject matter is bad.

“Helllllllllp!  Mr. Wizard!!!”

“Dreezen, draazen, driizen, drome.  Time for zis von to come home.”

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/one-way-street/

People-watching in the oddest of places

Airport terminals, train stations and bus/subway stops are always a good place to watch people.  Apparently I am not alone in enjoying this pastime, many of the bloggers whose stories I’ve read feel the same way.

Is it magical?  Sometimes?  Is it filled with people so wrapped up in their own drama they see nothing but obstacles? Usually.  By this I mean that they don’t see the people, only that there’s something between them and where they are trying to go.  All they see is the obstacle.  It could be a person, or it could be a trashcan.  It doesn’t matter, it’s in their way and that is what they notice, just enough (usually) to avoid collision.

That is very telling… how sad to live a live where you don’t take the time to notice what is around you.  How sad that you keep your head down and avoid acknowledging the other people around you.  If you would just look up, see the person you are sidestepping to avoid running into.  Take the chance.  Make eye contact.  What would it hurt?  What might you see?

I used to spend 45 minutes every morning waiting in a line for a bus to take me home after working the night shift.  I saw the hollow eyes of the people there, waiting for whatever it was they were waiting for.  Nobody looked up, nobody acknowledged anyone else.  All seemed trapped in a lonely hell of their own making.  Everyone seemed so sad, so lost, in pain; some looked ready to cry, many looked worried… some looked angry.  Nobody looked happy.

I decided to play a game.  I’ve played with energy since I was a little kid.  My brother and I would scoop up imaginary (I thought) energy out of the air and fashion a ball out of it and play catch with it.  It was our secret game.  I could feel the energy in my hands.  It was real.  Nobody else could, so we stopped talking about it pretty quickly.

I decided that these sad people in the bus terminal needed something to break them out of their doldrums.  I imagined myself with super powers, like I used to do as a child.  I would find someone and practice on them.  I would make people happy, somehow.  First, I had to get them to connect with the world around them.

My first test was to make someone look up.  I chose a man in his mid-forties as my guinea pig.  I had seen him in the terminal before.  He never varied his routine.  Walk in the front entrance and make a beeline to the news stand for a cup of coffee and a paper, then to one particular bench (or one close to it if someone took “his” spot).  He was always there in the mornings, and he *never* looked up until his bus was called.  He had his back to me, sitting in the terminal.  He was intently reading his newspaper, looking up only to take a sip of his coffee.

I closed my eyes and took a few slow deep breaths, then opened my eyes.  I stared at the back of his head.  “Look up,” I urged silently.  “Turn around, look at me, see me!”  After fifteen or twenty seconds, he glanced at the person on the bench to his right, a few seats away.  Encouraged by this, I started sending Love his way.  Not the romantic stuff, the Eros… the God-Love, the Agape.  He looked over his shoulder for a second, then back to his paper.  In the second I could see his face I saw he was uncomfortable, confused.  I stopped.  It wasn’t my intention to make anyone feel bad.  I imagined the entire bus terminal surrounded by God’s Love, held the intention for about a minute and then let it rest.  The experiment stopped, for the time being.

The next day, he was there again, but this time he didn’t follow his usual routine with his head down… he was searching the faces of the people around him, only for a second each.  He was looking to see if he could figure out who it was that had touched him.  I smiled, rather pleased with myself.  I grounded and centered again with the breathing technique, and once again sent this man some Love.  It’s a wonderful feeling, to feel loved.  It’s just as wonderful to feel the sending of Love.  This day, he finished his coffee, threw away his cup and meandered out onto the platform to wait the final five minutes for his bus.  He made eye contact with a few people, nodded to them as he passed, then took his place in the line next to mine.

The first time he looked at me, I smiled and my eye winked at him… I didn’t do it intentionally, it just happened.  He looked away and started to blush.  I was probably blushing a little, too, although I’m not usually one for blushing.  Eventually over the course of a few days, we began to speak, just a hello, long night, crazy weather type of conversation.  I never learned his name or any of his details, but it was so nice to make a connection of any kind.

There was a trickle-down effect to this, too.  Over the course of the few weeks of my experiment, other people started opening up to notice other people too.  Before long, everyone in the lines were talking to one another, sharing bits of homemade cookies or cakes that they had, sharing newspapers etc.

It made me realize that there was more to being here on this planet than just being in your own skin and watching others.  We all have a great power inside us, and it is meant to be shared.  Without sharing the Great Love we all hold in our hearts, we are doomed to remain isolated, alone and despairing.  By reaching out with no expectation of reward, just to share this energy, we form connections that make life worth living.  We all can do this.  Jesus told us that we all hold the power to perform miracles as he did and even more, if we would only believe.  There is *so* much good we can do in the world.  Next time you see a homeless person begging for money, rather than walking past and avoiding eye contact, do something different.  Make eye contact.  See him or her as a person who is down on their luck.  Feel some compassion for them.  Send them some Love.  If you don’t have money to spare or think it’s wrong to give money, that’s ok… just recognize that they, too, are a child of God and hold some compassion and respect for them.  Send out this Great Love whenever and wherever you can, any time you have the opportunity.  Interact or not on a physical level, but always send Good Energy.

https://wordpress.com/read/post/id/489937/90755/

Geek post; cholesterol & vitamin D

My visit to the doctor went well the other day. My cholesterol is down to acceptable levels, but I am still having an issue with a few things. My serum calcium is low and so is my vitamin D levels.  My LDL is marginally high (104) but Dr F said that considering how high my HDL is (and how very low my triglicerides are) she isn’t worried at all about it.

I know that cholesterol is what the body uses to form vitamin D, and I know that vitamin D is necessary for proper calcium absorption, so I figure all of this is one problem. All I have to do is figure out how to make my LDL convert into Vitamin D, and I’m golden.

With this in mind, I started a google search on the building blocks of Vitamin D… found an eBook, Kelley’s Textbook of Rheumatology 9th edition published by Elsevier. It has a picture of the molecular structure of cholesterol and the related glucocorticoids which can be formed from it… or at least are formed from the same base as it is.

It all forms on a sterol nucleus! That’s the base for cortisol, cortisone and hydrocortisone as well as prednisone and predisolone!! (Also, vitamin D and the sex hormones are formed on the same nucleus, but they didn’t have diagrams of them… more research is needed there.) So, with my asthma, needing to have prednisone so many times, apparently this is a problem I’ve had all my life.  I wonder what the difference between HDL and LDL cholesterol is, chemically.  Is one better for turning into Vitamin D?  Do they both work equally well?  So many questions.  I may have to go back to school before I find out answers to these questions.

However, since I believe that my mind creates my reality, I figure all I really have to do is visualize the cholesterol morphing into one of these other forms, but before I do that, I want to make sure I’m not leaving any unattached bits to mess me up. Like in the game Rummicub, one must effectively use all the parts or it’s no good.

It’s a tricky business, taking responsibility for making your body work correctly, and I take it seriously.  Like any machine, the human body’s parts work as a whole.  Some parts work independently of other parts, but generally, anything that affects one part will affect other parts too, and not always in ways one would expect.  Best to work slowly and methodically.  In addition to the cholesterol/vitamin D connection, I’ve found some interesting things about Vitamin D during the past few days of internet searching.

Wikipedia says Vitamin D refers to a group of fat-soluble secosteroids responsible for enhancing intestinal absorption of calcium, iron, magnesium, phosphate and zinc. In humans, the most important compounds in this group are vitamin D₃ and vitamin D₂.  I read on one site that you absorb D₃ better, it is the more bioavailable of the 2, and is commonly called cholecalciferol.  The liver changes it to another form and then the kidneys change it to the form that is most bioactive.

Vitamin D levels affect mood, how your body uses insulin, it affects the makeup of your cell walls,  and may even play a part in some cancers.  If you think about all the things Vitamin D helps us absorb, Vitamin D may play a much bigger part in our overall health than anyone could possibly imagine.

Usually vitamin D is synthesized in the skin when one is exposed to UVB rays.  It doesn’t take a lot of sun to give you your minimum (15 minutes of midday sun twice a week is plenty, according to a few sites I looked at), but those who live at latitudes above 35-40º are likely to have difficulty in making enough Vitamin D during the winter months when the sun is not as strong.  Also, as you age, your skin is unable to keep producing Vitamin D at optimum levels.  Tanning beds won’t help, sadly, as they are usually focused UVA rays with very little UVB.  The amount of vitamin D you get from fortified milk or orange juice helps but usually isn’t enough if you’re D deficient.  Better than nothing, but not enough to fill the deficiency.  Perhaps it’s time to find some vitamin D capsules to take…

Soapmaking, an experiment in home-crafts

My grandmother never made soap, much to my chagrin.  She always used Fels Naptha when she needed a good strong soap, and whatever regular soap was on sale for everything else.  As a child I always wondered how things were made; as an adult, I get to indulge my curiosity and experiment.  I dabbled in soapmaking several years ago, made a few nice batches but my health was bad and I have no idea what happened to my notes, so I am starting pretty much at Square One.

I received a 3/4 full container of oil on Freecycle a few months ago, out of date but it doesn’t smell rancid yet so I am using it as the base oil for my experiments.  It is a mixture of corn oil and peanut oil.  Both have the same saponification value, according to the MMS lye calculator, available free online  https://www.thesage.com/calcs/LyeCalc.html  so I decided to give it a try.  I shall chronicle my experiments, both so I can keep track of what I’ve done and the results, and also for your edification.  If I inspire you to try your hand at this craft, please let me know.  Below is recipe #1.  Please excuse the mixed measuring.  My scale weight default is grams, and since I sometimes forget to switch it over to ounces, it’s just easier for me to measure the oils, water and NaOH in grams.  The essential oils I will either measure by drops (in the case of a small batch of lightly scented soap) or by teaspoons (t or tsp) and tablespoons (T or Tbsp or tbsp)

Purification Soap #1

1000g corn/peanut oil (Wesson frying oil)

70g cocoa butter

70g uncolored beeswax pastilles

2 teaspoons Sandalwood essential oil

1 teaspoon Frankincense essential oil

1/2 teaspoon Cypress essential oil

142g NaOH (sodium hydroxide, commonly called lye)

300g water

I weighed out the base oil, cocoa butter and beeswax so I could check the calculator to find the correct amount of NaOH and H2O.

Put the water in heat-proof container large enough to hold the entire batch of soap.  I used a large (2 qt?) pyrex measuring cup of my daughter’s.  Put on rubber gloves and eye protection.  Slowly add the NaOH while stirring until the crystals are all dissolved.  Set this lye mixture aside to cool a bit.  Be careful not to breathe the fumes as they are caustic.

Heat the oils, butter and wax (but not the essential oils), just until all is liquid (be very careful as this mixture can catch fire if heated too quickly or is allowed to get too hot… double boiler is your best bet if you have any doubts about your ability to control the temperature.

When the lye mixture and oil mixture are around the same temperature, pour the oil into the lye slowly, stirring all the while.  I cooled off the oil by setting the pan in a bit of cold water… I think I cooled it off a bit too much because the beeswax was starting to for a skin on the measuring cup I was using as a ladle.

Stir until the mixture “traces.”  This is where it thickens enough that the stirrer leaves a trace behind it.  Sometimes this can take a while, up to an hour.  If it doesn’t trace in the first 15 minutes of continuous stirring, set it aside and stir for a minute every 5 minutes until it shows a trace.

Once you see the trace, you can add your essential oils for scent.  This batched traced within a minute or two, so it has me a little concerned about how it will turn out.  Too much beeswax or too cool?  Not sure.  Recipe #2 will help me to know, but I won’t know for a week or so, until the soap is ready to use.

Once you’ve added the scent and stirred it in, pour into mold(s).  Since I work in a deli, I scavenged a few boxes that the cheese comes in, lined them with plastic wrap.  This batch went into 2 boxes, but could easily have fit into one.

Writing 101: Happy (Insert Special Occasion Here)!

Sadly, I am unable to post in the Writing 101 Commons.  I know I am late to the party, but I thought I’d be able to jump in as soon as I could.

I decided against inserting the special occasion in the headline; didn’t want to wrench too many brains.  My special occasion, my most fond food-related memory has to do with the times I was sick.  I can see the headline now:  Happy Illness… Happy Measles… nope, doesn’t quite do it for me.

I was the youngest of 3 (until I was 7 when my mom remarried and gave my baby girl position to my little sister).  Growing up with 2 older brothers was rough.  I was never good enough, never their equal, except when we got sick.  Then we all received the same treatment, we all slept in the same room so mom or grammy could keep an eye on us more easily, and we all got strawberry milk.  Yum.  I salivate at the memory.

It seemed like the month of April was out to get us.  Every year we managed to come down with measles by my oldest brother’s birthday.  We remained confined until after my middle brother’s birthday in May.  My mom hated it and so did my grandmother… otherwise I might suspect them of duplicity that we were always sick for our birthdays so we couldn’t invite kids over for a birthday party.  I mean, how many kids do you know who got measles several years in a row, always at the same time?  And then there was that time in 3rd grade that someone actually invited me to her birthday party, and I came down with measles again after a few years of not getting them (it stopped once I started going to school full time).  So, maybe it was all just a scheme so they didn’t have to have dozens of screaming kids over.  *sigh*

Still, we got to drink strawberry milk.  My mom kept a container in the cupboard for just such instances.  It was a special treat only to be had during a forced confinement/convalescence.  Wonderful, rich and creamy, sweet, it was like nothing I had ever tasted.  Of course, milk was different back then.  You had to shake it up to mix the cream back into the milk.  Milk was probably closer to what we now get as half-an-half back then.  I was never a big fan of chocolate, always preferred vanilla… but this!  O… M… G…  what a perfect drink to wash down homemade cake!

I can no longer indulge in the beloved strawberry milk

To Everything, There is a Season

And a time to every purpose under Heaven.  Wise words.  In Native American tradition, the season of Autumn is associated with middle age.  It reminds me to take stock of myself.  Where am I along my Path?  Am I where I want to be, where I believe I should be?  If so, Winter will provide a respite, a time to rest and just allow myself to be.  If not, which is usually the case, it reminds me that the clock is ticking, and my days are numbered.  I’d better get back to who and what I am supposed to be before my time runs out.  I’m so easily distracted that I wander from my path all too easily.  I’ve been like that since I was a little girl.  Autumn reminds me to focus.

I am ambivalent about Autumn.  I love that Summer has let loose of the thermometer and allowed it to cool off a bit, for which I am extremely grateful as I tend to melt in high heat and humidity.  But the tempering of heat reminds me that in all things not static, the pendulum swings both ways.

Cold is coming.  Snow is coming.  Aching bones and air so dry I get nosebleeds is coming.  Winter is not a friend of mine.  We have a love/hate relationship, Autumn and I.  Autumn invariably allows Winter to tag along when she visits, and Winter always overstays her welcome.  If Autumn was really a good friend she would make Winter behave a little better.

Autumn fills me with introspection.  Yes, it’s beautiful, with the changing leaves and fields dotted with bright orange pumpkins.  Yet even these remind me of the inexorable passing of time.  You can’t go back, you can only move forward from where you are now.

Joni Mitchell’s Urge for Going speaks eloquently of the feeling Autumn stirs in me.  Mainly, time time of year makes me sad for the opportunities missed, the chances not taken, for not reaching out when I could have for fear of rejection.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/autumn-leaves/

A Double-Edged Sword

It cuts both ways, you know, that double-edged sword.  I used to wonder what that meant, long before I realized that my wonderings would be answered with experiences to demonstrate.  I try not to wonder too much about things any more.  Experience is a hard teacher.

My double-edged sword is music.  Without it, life doesn’t really seem worth living.  I don’t surround myself with noise all day and night.  I don’t need to.  I have a soundtrack in my head that supplies background music when there is none to listen to.  I love music.  It moves me.

There’s the rub.  While most of the time it is uplifting, making my soul soar to ecstatic heights, the reverse is also true.  When I hear a song that reminds me of the past, of the things and people and pets I’ve lost, or is haunting and plaintive, I can get lost in the grief that I’ve buried over the years.  It’s usually therapeutic, but it’s always painful.  So much pain buried so deep, dredged up in an instant.

Sometimes it’s so bad that I have to stop what I’m doing and just cry for a bit to regain control.  I need to keep control of things in my life.  There are so few things I actually have control over.  I’ve gone down the road of having emotions running amok… it isn’t pretty, so I work at staying emotionally stable.  I generally don’t listen to the radio while driving for this reason.  It doesn’t happen often that I lose control like that, but I find it easier to drive with silence… sorta.  I have wonderful conversations in my head with strange and diverse people on deep subjects while I drive, but I digress.

Lately I am haunted by a couple of songs.  Anthony Head just released a new album called “Staring at the Sun.”  You know, the guy who played Giles in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Remember him singing “Behind Blue Eyes” in, what was it, season 4?  He has a sweet haunting type of voice, perfectly suited for soft blues and romantic ballads.

Being a bit of a fan, I bought it as soon as it was available.  I have been a wreck ever since.  It seems as though every song tugs at my heart in ways I had forgotten was possible.  I’m not saying I’m sorry I bought it, I love the songs, but I end up in tears when I play it.  And play it I do.  I’m not even playing my silly little online games (my slogs, as I affectionately call them) anymore.

Whenever I sit down to do something on the computer, my fingers seem to direct the cursor to the iTunes icon and open it, always to Staring at the Sun.  I listen, I forget what else there was to do, lost in the music.  When the last song is finished, I listen to it again.  Powerful stuff there.  Suddenly it’s time to go to work (or 3a.m. and time to sleep, or time to do my household chores before going to work).  Before too long I’ll have heard it enough that it will be a part of my internal soundtrack.  Then I’ll get back to normal.  Until then, well, what can I say?

I’ll be back, I promise.  This won’t last forever.  But if you’re wondering where I got off to, now you know.  I’m lost.  Lost in memories.  Lost in nostalgia.  Lost in my pain and grief.  Lost in healing.