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  • The Last Time I Blogged

      ...it was Saturday,  and I thought it was Sunday.  I was doing the puzzle,  which I did not finish.
     Today it is Tuesday and dreary and cold.   Yesterday, Monday was a-okay,  just went to work.   I bought 4 mint plants,  2 at the green market in Union Square, and 2 at the Food Emporium under Zeckendorf Towers.  I also bought a wilted cyclamin which she sold me for fifty cents and a wax begonia for a dollar ninety nine, cuz they didn't look all that attractive, but they are still healthy.

    On Sunday I went into a gardening frenzy, pulling weeds and taking down old dried and dead morning glory vines that have been on strings all winter,   spilling and planting the seeds back into the same pots,  replanting,  taking away a crumbling terra cotta window box,  planting peas from the seeds that grew last year and doing 3 window ledges with fresh pots,  some have mints that survived through the winter still alive in them,  an ivy vine made it through as did some wild parsley and some thyme and this is the 3rd year for a the "4 O'clocks" which survived the winter and have yet to bloom.   There is a tree that is budding and bloomed last year.  I thought it was dead and nearly cut it..

    This year my New York City outside window sills will be full of big bushy fragrant mint and Morning Glories.

    Playing with the window box dirt and plants is good for my soul.

    That's what I did on Sunday and last night I got my rubber gloved hands dirty repotting the mints.

    I usually rebel on St. Patrick's day, for various reasons, and wear black, but yesterday I wore my green cashier sweater, for the first time,  and my lucky 4 leaved clover pendant OUT of my sweater, which I NEVER DO.

    The only thing I did wrong was forget to buy a lottery ticket.

    Shit.

    I also took down the Christmas display lights which had been in the windows until now,  stars,  snowflakes, a spiral Xmas tree on a big stick.... the windows look nice.

    I'm about ready for spring.  I'm feeling good and well too.  I'm on a quarter of the 300 Wellbutrin XL for a few days now and I actually am riding a wave of good feeling,   although my skin is really acting up.   That happens with the season change.  I'm itchy and dry.
    Time for the Oil of Olay body wash.

    Happy Tuesday!

  • Sunday Morning Coffee And The New York Times Crossword

    It's the grey residue of a rainy night in Manhattan.  The streets are dark and puddled.  The sun is coming up to a colorless sky.  The puzzle is difficult today.  I think I'll print out another and start over cuz I've already messed this one up...  I won't finish it.  I won't use the time.

    I hear garbage trucks and the city is waking up...

    Not that you don't hear garbage trucks and stuff all through the night, if you happen to listen.   The construction on the electric infrastructure under the streets,  before they dig the 2nd Ave. Subway continues until 10:00 PM on the dot Monday through Friday. I'm not sure about Saturday's. 

    This includes Jackhammering and pounding down the soil with a jackhammer equipped with a flat rectangular iron foot.  This,  as opposed to RAT A TAT TAT, is more of a WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM type of pounding. 

    They have dug trenches with backhoes and those digging things,   looking out my apartment window,  in New York City,  I feel like I'm one of those animal children in a Richard Scarry book having a lesson on what goes on in the city while the people sleep.

    ..

    Not that I'm complaining,  I LOVE living in MANHATTAN,  it's just the late night, and sometimes overnight road work that can get to you. 

    Sometimes people call the police,  and sometimes I have,  and sometimes it stops but sometimes it's necessary and they have the permit.   It appears that much of the construction and contracted work here may often be underhanded but who am I to notice?   But I can see why people might end up in the East river in lead boots here.

    We sometimes look out the window,  when they pour the concrete into these trenches and say to each others "well, perfect place to hide a body"....
    we didn't even watch the Sopranos.......

    I can see it ( here I go talking about mob mentality for some unknown reason, just out of the blue ) out in rural America,  only there they end up tied to trees or barbed wire fences when beaten by pitchfork welding gangs of torch bearing....

    What got me started complaining on this fine dreary and garbage truck serenaded Sunday morning anyway?

    I think I had some kind of a dream.  I remember wisps of feelings, and images only seen in with my gut's eye,  can't be put to words, other than dealings with people and business and something about Steve Carell from The Office.

    Anyway,  the radiator's hissing its secrets and reminding me that my coffee is getting cold and that the auto shut-off on the cheap Gevalia ( A club I don't recommend joining, their coffee stinks,  it's bitter), is probably off by now and I don't think I'm going to waste any more time on this puzzle this morning anyhow,  I've got too much to do...

    Blessings to you this fine Sunday at the ass end of winter!  Woo Hoo!   Spring is near.   I see the tale-tale signs of chocolate hares and chickens in the market place as I make my way through the thawing,  although 'oft bitter streets and the bustle of the city's pulsing masses,  scarfed and knitted cap stretched firmly 'round my noggin.

     
    A Laughing Native Boy Delivers

    Why do you feel sorry for the imigree and you
    give a hefty tip? He brings hot food in cold rain
    you sadly say and grasp the dinner.
    The hot rice and the spicy side of life
    was nice. Don't let it slide into your eyes,
    beads of sweat,  or dignified and wide.
    Devoid of power, pride,  and water makes you
    piss too much and beer might make you sick.
    Suck a frozen tomato,  until your tongue cools,
    glad you saved them, in the freezer, for a possible shortage.
    The dry chokeable chicken is good but the heat can't be
    blotted out with cukes and youghurt,  and you can't
    possibly trust the milk.  Oh this native city is so restless.
    They deliver food with burning sensation and make you
    wonder if they know their Tandori is delightful but the painful
    spice is sometimes a dish best served cold.

  • She Sat On The Toilet For Two Years...

    ...and the skin on her ass grew around the toilet seat.   This was at her boyfriend's and it was because she was "afraid to come out".  He brought her food and finally called the police.

    When I read about incidents like the above,  I breathe a big sigh of relief at my own anxiety and mental health.  I have nothing to be ashamed of and apparently have it pretty easy, comparatively.

    There are several things I could be, which I'm not,  and complaining about Wellbutrin withdrawal is just self indulgent.

    I am of relatively sound mind and body,  at least I function in society as so,  I've never really been clear about the meaning of "sound mind"...

    To me, the mind is but a glass of water.

    a poem:

    Hydrophonics

    He said the mind was like a glass of water.  He did not specify the color, the transparency, or not, of the glass,  nor did he elaborate on the condition of the water itself.

    He assumed everyone understood he meant it to be clear,  in spite of the particles, orbs and spices, transient flora,  reflections of light and other microscopic debris which swam or lifeless, floated freely in the brine.

    He stopped to take a drink.
    .
    .
    .

  • Wellbutrin Withdrawl

    Having started halving my Wellbutrin,  300mg XL,  not scored, for going on two weeks now,  I feel okay.  A bit out of touch and stuff,  actually I'm not sure how I feel.   I haven't been blogging because weird things would be coming out, like when I wanted to write about how much the cracks in the walls are bothering me,  (that was a couple of days ago) and the spots of dirt here and there which I usually don't notice.  They were everywhere the other day.

    I also want to be a published writer but I have no drive nor discipline and half of me really doesn't care anymore anyway.   It's all too much work.

    I'm gonna stop the Wellbutrin for no reason.  It wasn't the cause of the migraines anyhow, but why take it if I don't need it....    I'm not sure if I need it or not.  I won't know that until I'm completely off it will I?  Well that's just it then, isn't it.   It's all too much work.

    I'm not depressed, but a bit confused and overwhelmed at all the things going on in the world , not to mention in my life,  which is pretty much nothing going on,   chores backing up and causing me obsessive woe,  but I'm not jumping out windows or imagining death scenarios and I'm not curled up in a ball weeping in bed....

    I'm not depressed or anxious, but prettymuch I guess overwhelmed and I wouldn't care if I did die right now, at this point.  I'd welcome seeing my mother.  I'm not sad or depressed though,  just apathetic.

    Everything is just so much work...  I hate feeling overwhelmed.   How much of it is Wellbutrin withdrawal and how much is just me....

    Perhaps I should just keep taking it....

    Only time will tell..

    Hell,  this is too much work...

    I think I'm gonna go to bed early cuz I'm totally bored.

  • Drawing a Blank

        I'm really drawing a blank these days.  Hard to blog.

  • Why Do We Blog? For The Umpteenth Time.

    I'm sitting at the blog strangely compelled to write something.   This is as it has been for many years with pen and paper,  years before the blog came into being.

    I've recently realized that there is a big difference between the public blog and the paper journals in my closet.  The paper journals were written knowing that they were for my eyes only.   The public blog is just that, public.    Even so public, I never expect anyone to read these, yet a few people do.  I am surprised you do. 

    Sometimes I do have strong feelings and want to say something.   Having a very strong sense of my own motivations, I realize, that as ALL PERSONS,  every act is selfish and I must be blogging for a reason and I believe that reason, as I have blogged about before,  is to process my own thoughts and emotions.  

    Knowing someone might see these words does make me temper what I blog,  and try to keep a low profile,  just another face in the crowd. 

    I have often compared blogging to mental 'shitting'.   Now it is mental regurgitation because I have blogged this blog before many times.

    That's all.  I don't know what to write, but feel the urge to write something,  even if nothing at all.

    At least I'm not writing about Hillary and Obama.  I hate being in that angry political mode.  I've resigned to the probable fact that they are just faces on a long and reclusive arm,   puppets on a hand,   faces on a stick,  and it really doesn't matter anyhow.

                ....okay,  something to blog is coming out

    Oh Wow,  a black man and a woman,   history in the making.... just a show for all to see,  just a distraction..
        
       Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain...
       
                  ....although I will vote,  don't get me wrong,  I haven't actually GIVEN UP HOPE,  although,  at this point,  I'm pretty certain that conspiracy is,  like evolution,  no longer just a theory...

    (over the past 50 years, just the human femur has changed so that the femur of what would strictly be male fifty years could now be the femur of a tall female.   Also,  the fact the we have hemhroids, vericose veins and hernias are faults of evolution,  of standing upright,  instead of being on all fours so gravity doesn't do that damage,  we are in the process of change....  don't even get me started about wisdom teeth...)

    Okay,  I've done blogged something now other than blog about blogging.
    Blogging about blogging is like looking into a mirror with a mirror behind you.

    blogging about blogging may not really count as blogging as it may cancel itself out if you really think about things....

    .....okay, now I'm just stalling,  the morning ritual;  shit, shave, shower.... shove something considered food down my gullet,  medicate,  walk to the subway and ride to work.

    It's Thursday and I hate it.  I hate hate hate it.
    Have I ever mentioned that I am a bit agoraphobic, and although I do have a safety zone,  I still really don't like to go out.

    It's been okay these past few months.  I've been going out more and noticed a change.
    Now I don't wanna go to werk... 

    but only two more days.

    I'm the type that likes to gel.

    I feel overwhelmed with books and projects and chores and I feel anxious.   I'm taking note of this feeling.

    I'm living for the weekend,  but not like that old O'Jay's song,  cuz when ever Friday rolls around,  although I do put all my weekly burdens down,    I don't hit the town.  I hit the sofa.

    I've taken to  watching October Road.  It's cheesy and pastoral.  It's quaint and melancholic and reminds me of an updated The Waltons.  It's comfort food.  It has a cheesy charm.  It's always fall at October Road, even though it's April. 

    Lost,  October Road, Jericho...  don't do the CSI's much anymore,  they have become a little unrealistic, what with poking around on dead bodies without masks and stuff.

    In other words, they have become too unrealistic... not that any of the other shows aren't.

    I've lost my point.

    Oh yes,  self distraction,  self expression, and humanistically self centered wastage of time.

    I'm prattling I'm babbling.

    I'm just taking up cyberspace...

    Have an atypically positive Thursday,  as I hope I will.

    At least it's Thursday.  At the very least tomorrow is Friday.
    .
    .
    If you are reading this,  you're much too close.

    .
    There was just an explosion at 42nd Street,   at the military recruiting station.  I'm about to head toward the subway and I don't give a fuck...

    I'm not scared.

    The meely mouthed mayor, Bloomy,  is on the wire trying to reassure people,  telling people to let the professionals do their jobs.
    ...there was a strange person on a bike,  acting strange...
    this was a cowerdly act.

    this mayor is funny.   living in manhattan is almost like living in gotham city,  the mayor is an active figure in your lives, as are the commissioner and stuff...

    growing up in california,  everything was an isolated family incident.

    here I'm part of the rest of the community of the world.  I know what is going on in the world around me, and far away by extension, not just my own back yard and what the television chooses to show me.

    The little mayor is talking on the radio and I feel like i'm part of the community of munchkin land... I expect him, any second, to call for the caped crusaider, or the Power Puff Girls.

    .

  • What would you personally consider as a fulfilled life?



       Death would pretty much do it.    I would never be so bold as to assume, or assign nor expect standards for anyone elses life.   Isn't that pretty much the root of most of the world's troubles today???

     

    I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

  • When Insults Had Class

     These glorious insults are from an era when cleverness with words was still valued, before a great portion of the English language got boiled down to 4-letter words, not to mention waving middle fingers:

     

     

    The exchange between Churchill & Lady Astor: She said, "If you were my

    husband I'd give you poison;" to which he replied, "Madam, if I were your husband,

    I'd take it."

     

     

    A member of Parliament to Disraeli: "Sir, you will either die on the gallows

    or of some unspeakable disease." "That depends, Sir," said Disraeli, "upon

    whether I embrace your policies or your mistress."

     

     

    "He had delusions of adequacy." - Walter Kerr

     

    "He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." - Winston

    Churchill

     

    "A modest little person, with much to be modest about." - Winston Churchill

     

    "I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great

    pleasure." - Clarence Darrow

     

    "He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the

    dictionary." - William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)

     

    "Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?" -

    Ernest Hemingway (about William Faulkner)

     

    "Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading

    it." - Moses Hadas

     

    "He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know." -

    Abraham Lincoln

     

    "I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of

    it." - Mark Twain

     

    "He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends." - Oscar Wilde

     

    "I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend

    . . . if you have one." - George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill

     

    "Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second... if there is one."

    - Winston Churchill, in response.

     

    "I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here." -

    Stephen Bishop

     

    "He is a self-made man and worships his creator." - John Bright

     

    "I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial." -

    Irvin S. Cobb

     

    "He is not only dull himself, he is the cause of dullness in others." -

    Samuel Johnson

     

    "He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up." - Paul Keating

     

    "There's nothing wrong with you that reincarnation won't cure." - Jack E.

    Leonard

     

    "He has the attention span of a lightning bolt." - Robert Redford

     

    "They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human

    knowledge." - Thomas Brackett Reed

     

    "In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily." -

    Charles, Count Talleyrand

     

    "He loves nature in spite of what it did to him." - Forrest Tucker

     

    "Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?" -

    Mark Twain

     

    "His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork." - Mae West

     

    "Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go." - Oscar

    Wilde

     

    "He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather

    than illumination." - Andrew Lang (1844-1912)

     

    "He has Van Gogh's ear for music." - Billy Wilder

     

    "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it." - Groucho Marx

    .

    .

    .

     


  • So, the physician thinks its okay to take wellbutrin and norvir,  and pointed out that the previous cocktail contained both as well, just under a different name.   he stopped a new one, isentress,  and traded it for truvada.    I'm gonna keep weening off the wellbutrin anyhow just because why take it if i don't need it. 
    only time will tell.

    the doc gave me an rx for imitrex,  a potent migraine medication, in case I get another migraine.  It will supposedly cure a migraine in around 30 minutes,  but has been associated with death.

    ok,  when I'm having the migraine,  if you've never had one, you simply MUST!,  I won't care about heart stoppage and stroke due to anti migraine medication.   Imitrex basically blocks a neuro transmitter that tells your arteries to either constrict or expand,  I forgot exactly which direction,  which is the opposite of whatever the migraine is doing, constricting or expanding your neural arteries and veins,  as well as coronary arteries, which has lead to death, they are certain to keep reminding me.

    To end up eventually dying trying to relieve a migraine would pretty much put the icing on the cake.  After what I've survived,  including previous migraines, however it is not enough to scare me.  The migraines are so intense that I think of snuffing them out by jumping out the window or chopping my own head off so if the death were quick and painless,  it would probably be preferable over the migraine,  if it weren't so permanent.

    Well... hopefully I won't have another migraine, and the medication change will be better overall....
    only time will tell.

    Other than the migraines I've pretty much been in a funk.  Nothing much to write about.
    I've been avoiding writing.  I'm getting discouraged about the marketing involved.
    I'd rather just get discovered.  I got to write something first though.

    Reading novels about death and crime investigation.   I've learned several things.

    Did you know that when you die,  the skin on your arms and hands dries and peels off and this is called "Degloving" in the profession.   Furthermore, you can rehydrate these skin 'gloves' and put them on to get fingerprints from them.

    There is a word for decaying fatty flesh which turns oily and waxy;  it is called "Gack".

    You can follow a maggot trail from a dead body,  they  travel in packs and no one knows why or how they do it, after all they are just maggots.  You follow the trail by the gack they leave, to where they hatch and dry their wings as baby flies and find out exactly when someone was brutally beaten to death.
    only time will tell.

    I'm almost at the end,  of this murder mystery.
    I'm not sure what I'll read next.
    only time will tell.

    I'll do anything to do nothing.
    Shit.

  • Migraine Headaches And The DEATH OF EBAY

    AAK!!! I've been taking two
    prescriptions that should not be taken together,  given by two
    different doctors! Who the hell am I, HEATH LEDGER??????
    .

    . It hasn't happened in  two nights,  I just found this contraindication of these drugs on Friday.....
    Well,  I would wake up to go pee in the middle of the night and upon standing,  the throbbing in my head would be such that I would end up on the floor crawling into the restroom and spending the rest of the night and the next day on the floor or in bed with the most intense migraine headaches I've had since I first started taking norvir many years ago.

      Now I'm taking it again,  as I've switched cocktails,   and taking Wellbutrin all along,   so neither doctor catches it and finally after missing a few days of work,   sleeping in tubs of hot water which could have proven deadly,  I finally find on the internet that taking these two drugs can cause a seizure. 

    I could have had a seizure and drown in the bathtub which is exactly what happened to someone I work with about six month ago,  although I don't know the reason for his seizure.

     So I've spoken with both Dr.s,  have a physician appt. on Monday,  and the Wellbutrin Dr. agrees with my cutting the pill in half for a week and then calling him to let him know what's going on,   as I know you can't stop it cold turkey,  then a quarter and weening myself off of Wellbutrin and only hopefully I won't notice too much of any negative change, because it's better to be depressed and anxious than full of multiplying virus.Anyway, I had three days off and lofty goals.  Only one goal was met. .

    My one
    accomplishment was to list 64 things on Ebay and start looking for an
    alternate auction site and it looks like many people are leaving Ebay,
    goody,  they suck!

    ,

     One whole day,  Wednesday was spent in bed with that said migraine,  I haven't had one in a few years and have had 5 this past month so it must be the drug combo,  the heart starts pounding and beating the blood up to my head and the pain is so intense.

    and with Sustiva too,  bad bad combo.   neither doctor googled  'norvir wellbutrin':

    .

    HIV 101: Psychiatric and HIV Medication Interactions - The Body

    I BELIEVE MORE PEOPLE ARE DYING FROM PERSCRIPTION COMBINATIONS AND IT IS INCREASING AND THE DRUG COMPANYS ARE TRYING TO KEEP IT QUIET.

    .
    the psychatrist took a second to look up the dosage and he tells me, and I quote "Yes, by lowering the dosage of Wellbutrin you are significantly decreasing your chances of a seizure."

    Oh, now all of a sudden I'm the doctor and it's MY seizure!

    sheesh!
    .