Unfocused

[Teresa]

In an attempt to write myself out of a hazy state of mind I'll start with the fact that my orange flavored La Croix sparkling water is room temperature now, I don't know how to use my new iPhone, I'm wondering if the HCG diet is safe and why my desk is cluttered with writing ideas that have nothing to do with the memoir I'm supposed to be writing.

 

There's twelve year old Brian who takes Risperdal, an antipsychotic also used to treat rage which gives him tics, may give him diabetes and high cholesterol, and how his stepmother told me all about his birth mother's borderline personality diagnosis and how he isn't allowed overnight visits because her nuttiness exacerbates his autism and anxiety and what's happening to our children?

 

I could also write about the open house at Julian's school for autistic children, how the rooms were cute like any preschool classroom, only they were smaller and less cluttered, and the colors weren't as bright, and each had a cabinet labeled "Diazepam" which is a sedative.

 

I want to write about the newsletter I received from Vic's Catholic school which included an "Urgent action alert from the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops" regarding an "unprecedented threat to religious freedom" which was all about healthcare plans including coverage for all FDA-approved prescription contraceptives and sterilization procedures..."; I find it odd that the church is so worried about contraception, so adamant that no baby should be stopped when "defective" children aren't allowed in their schools.

 

I can't get the image out of my head of the school for disabled children I visited last week, the one down the street from Tanya's Beauty Shop, MAM's Resale, Blalock Autocar and a sign offering concealed handgun classes; the school which is comprised of small rundown cottages is operated by two men, one who looks like a white-haired Abraham Lincoln with long nails, the other a fidgety guy with a Paul Simon hairdo, Neil Diamond sideburns and excess energy like a cocaine red flag.

 

Then there is the story about Dr. Ulissey who gave a talk about breast cancer/imaging yesterday, a great guy it's hard to find fault with, and how I had to spend five hours listening to a subject I'm bored with when I really wanted to sit down with him over beers and hear about the book he had published in February, The Cabinda Incident which is about oil, covert politics, deception and adventure in Angola, West Africa. 

 

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

You called this "Unfocused" but in my estimation this is exquisitely focused.  A lot to think about. 

[Jeanette Cheezum]

I find it odd that the church is so worried about contraception, so adamant that no baby should be stopped when "defective" children aren't allowed in their schools. THAT BREAKS MY HEART.

"T" you never cease to amaze.

 

[Brittany]

Funny your head looks like it's a rather normal size in photographs :) so many ideas and descriptions flowing in that  large pool of matter with pretty blonde hair covering it. I won't soon forget white-haired Abe and the Diamond Burns either!

[Jamie Hogan]

I'm no expert on haze, but this doesn't seem indicative of one. Especially the keen part about finding it odd that the church wants all babies born and then sees fit to turn away "defective" ones. You may feel hazy, but seems to me your lens is, as always, crystal clear.

[shauna mcclure]

This made me feel much, much, much less lonely this Monday morning. Also a bit envious because at least you have the gumption (yes, I just wrote gumption) to write yourself out of your haze. And, of course, do it beautifully.

[Edward Dean]

I'm a big fan of rambling, wandering thoughts T and some of these would make it to the top of my list:)

[Michael Brown]

This one'll have me thinking weird thoughts all day. Thanks.

[Gita]

HCG diet? One of my girlfriends went on that and lost a big bunch of weight. But the diet only allowed 500 calories a day, and you have to take the drug to suppress the intense hunger.  It is the Daddy of all crash diets.

The description of the school for disabled kids made something crawl up my right arm, run across my back and crawl down my left arm. That's freaking scary. Great writing, as usual.

[Kristine_ES]

though i'm a devoted iron maiden and lady gaga fan, and jim morrison turns in his grave...

"don't stop/believin" got me through many a f*'d up night.  it may sound silly or trite or teenagerish to some, but i have faith in that phrase right now, today. 

old journals are a flashlight in the dark, and it's good ot see where your tadpole self was compared to the forest  where you stand today; that's what matters. it's cool to look at a blast from the past, but DO NOT allow them to petrify you.

finding nemo rocks, btw!

[Teresa]

Kristine, talk about suspension!  My car is in the shop as I type, leaning to the left like it's drunk.  Broken "strut" or whatever the fuck. 

 

I've been reading old journals again which eerily-eerily-eerily-eerily ask and answer questions I've asked earlier in the day or week, like one of those magic balls with the answers floating behind a small window in blue liquid.  It makes me giddy.  And something Julia Cameron said in a recent lecture I watched on video is my new mantra:  The world really isn't that big.  What she's saying is that your manuscript may one day be published by someone who knows someone who knows someone.  No one is really famously fabulous.  They believed.  They paid attention.  They worked hard.  They won a prize.  They were equal amounts humble and proud.  No one is better than anyone else on the whole.  Rod Stewart and Bob Dylan can't really sing.  Julia Roberts can't really act.  The list is endless.  You take what you've got and make it your best.  Then you push it with all you have, guided by instinct.  The world isn't so many layers you will never make it to the upper crust.  We're even, equal, spinning side by side in the same dream.  The trick is knowing this.  The guy in the suit who drives a Bentley; the woman dripping in diamonds walking foo-foo dogs on pink leashes; the movie star with five houses; the girl who invented Spanks (had to be a girl); the hot movie director; the guy who writes a successful novel every year - all the same people, the same as us - one leg at a time in our pants, bills to pay, problems, worries, intestinal wind.  You'll get there, wherever your "there" is.  Just don't look away and don't stop moving forward.  I hear Journey...Don't stop/Believin'      I'm drunk with exhaustion guys.  Can you tell?  Nite.