Into The Rabbit Hole

*ZZZZZZZ*

I’m pretty tired.   A long day of being step-mom, driving in traffic, being on the phones with moms of sick kids, and then hanging out with the kids’ mom.  All in all, a great day.

Now I’m just tired.  Time for bed!

Do you know how much spam I get in my comments here at Perilously Precocious?

Seriously, I’ve had more than 500 in the last two weeks.

Does that mean anything?  Other than that I am SUPER thankful for Akismet spam filter?

Maybe I’m popular.  Or maybe I just have a really small penis.

• Having regular anxiety, which is physically manifested and observed as heart problems, fluttering, un-triggered panic attacks.
• Would like to avoid medication at nearly all costs.
• Need to eliminate caffeine & nicotine to see if that helps.
• Need to significantly avoid sugars.
• Need to spend more time being physically active.
• Accccccccccccccck!

Ugh.

Now, I’m trying to focus on peace.

This just makes me shake my head.  I sort of feel like you should watch it, though.

Channel 7 news article

Youtube Link

Okay, okay.

So this whole DNC thing has honestly gotten to me a bit.  There is a constant threat to my city– a city I realized today that I take a whole lot of pride in. The fear bug bit me.  I admit it.

Aside from the dramatic craziness that *could* happen upon us, there really hasn’t been a whole lot out there.  Yes, there have been protesters flooding the streets of downtown Denver, but it’s not been a whole lot different than any one of our parade-filled holiday weekends.  Only the parades aren’t necessarily parades, they’re political folks with signs and costumes and a possible arrest here or there.  And several leaders of these marches/protests are big names.  Woo hoo.  I know.

There were 13 anti-abortion protesters who were peacefully arrested.  That was pretty cool, I guess.  They’re trying to make a point, and I get that… but was it worth having a permanent black mark on their record?  Meh.  They’re not riding on the same horse I ride, though, so I guess I’m a bit ambivalent about it.

I kinda like that so many people are out there protesting.  I like seeing people who are able to express their political and religious opinions freely.  THAT’S why I love America– it’s the freedom to say and do what you need to do.

There has been a HUGE police presence, which sort of gives me the heebie jeebies.  Denver’s not like that.  There really aren’t that many police roaming the streets.  I know they have a purpose and all– and they’re doing a good job of holding their tempers.  I doubt I could do that.   Of course, there’s such a HUGE media presence as well.  Maybe that’s yet another piece of the puzzle keeping all these crazies under control.

Anyway, the pictures from today really were sort of inspiring.  Even if I don’t agree with half of the people out there (don’t even get me started), I do appreciate that they’re out there publicly supporting what they stand for.

Pray for peace in my city.  I’d be devastated for anything other than an uneventful convention.

The Happiness Project

Once upon a time, I found relief from the pits of despair.  How?  I focused on ‘happiness.’

Since then, I’ve gone through a relatively roller-coaster-like up and down of life, and find myself on a generally even-keel, mellow calm.

I found this blog today.  A light bulb went off in my psyche.  I want to gradually drag this calm back up to the level of ecstacy.

How?

Focus on ‘happiness.’

This is just one step in the process of increasing my vibration.

This grown up stuff is pretty cool.  Though it seems there is less quiet time in my day… (yes I used that correctly)

And less quiet time generally means less time to think.   Less time to sit back and reflect.   Less time to blog.

Of course, there are trade offs to this less business.  I have more stability.  More consistency.  More family.   And I dig those things.  A lot.

I find myself solving the world’s problems during my drive to work.  And yes, I have decided that I am going to drive myself to work, from work, and to class.  This means paying for parking.  And gas.  But it also means leaving half an hour to forty five minutes later every day, which translates into a little more sleep.  Of course, I can’t do my homework while I’m driving, and I don’t get the ‘opportunity’ to observe the crazies (which is great practice for an aspiring shrink), but I also have less to worry about when it comes to being trapped in a hot, sweaty bus at the busiest times of day.  It means not having to worry if someone’s going to force me to talk about their hardships and their life story.  It means not having to hear the teenagers talk about who they banged and what video games they heard were cool. It means not having to listen to overly loud people tell overly boring stories about underly real experiences.  Which is certainly nice.  And it means getting places on MY time, relying on MY ability to get me there when I want to instead of waiting for the bus driver to do what bus drivers do best: picking up the non-drivers from bus stops.  So in choosing to drive instead of the bus, I’m ultimately BUYING myself some time.  To think.

Unfortunately, I have too much time between my thinking time and the time I can sit down and type.  I suppose life has its concessions.

Lately I caught myself thinking about how beautiful this life is.  It really is everything I could possibly want from it.  I have my dreams, my goals, my career, my job, a family, an amazing man, and pets galore.  I have a huge house and my garden.  I live in a fabulous neighborhood and my neighbors are our best friends.  I have a good family, give or take a handful from various sides of it, and I have some pretty amazing friends that work where I do, which means I’m spending as much time with them as is humanly possible for someone who does as much as I do.

This morning, I think I calculated the formulas that account for quantum physics.   But I forgot these solutions mid-morning while dealing with one crisis or another– something somewhere in between rescuing a jammed paper from the printer and getting a child into the clinic just soon enough to have his pupil blow and be rushed into emergency surgery.  I know, it’s a vast continuum, but this is my life.

On the drive home today, I couldn’t make myself think.  I was in a vacuum of non-thinking, completely irrational mental un-well.  I’m pretty sure one could call it a panic attack though there was nothing specific I could attach this emotion to aside from “Please don’t let me pass out while I’m driving.”

My prayers often go unheard, though.  Not that I crashed out, or crashed for that matter… but when you eliminate a God from your beliefs, there’s really no one to hear your prayer.  Such is the life of a non-believer.

Anyway, the drive home was pretty excruciating.  My vision was getting dim, I couldn’t breathe, and it was nearly 90 degrees (F) in my car.  I would go through waves of deep breathing and surrealism.  I could’ve sworn that if I tried hard enough, I could wake myself up and find that I wasn’t in a car at all, but was home quietly sleeping.  Of course, if I really fell back asleep, havock would ensue because I’m pretty sure I went to work today and eventually had to drive home.  It’s hard to say, though, because I sure didn’t feel like the alert and defensive driver I’ve come to pride myself on being.

Some days, you can’t be perfect.  Have you ever feared that your generally mentally well being was a facade?

I suppose that this admission is nothing more than a further example that as you get older, you begin to accept certain things about yourself.  For instance, I have come to terms with the possibility that some days, I’m just plain crazy.  And this is not a bad thing, simply a part of BEing.  Maybe it’s womanhood, maybe it’s part of being human, or maybe it’s the drugs they release from the jets that conspiracy theorists lovingly call ‘contrails.’  Any way you break it, it doesn’t matter because I’m down with whatever and whomever I decide I am for the day.  The ins and outs and utterly devine sense of self-acceptance.   It’s a happy place to be.

Even when I’m freaking out about non-existing threats.  Whether they exist or not is a moot point.  What matters is that my body reacts like they all really do exist sometimes, and that is apparently fine.

The age of insecurity and beating myself up passed over a year ago.  It’s a loss of guilt and an acceptance of responsibility.  It’s the goodness of a dynamic personality comfortable with changing itself as I see fit.  Perhaps my little experiment here with life has become a bit messy, somewhat unorganized and essentially meaningless.  What I won’t let go is my ability to learn and adjust my theories as I gather more data.

Let’s see if I can type on my laptop while lying on my belly…

So far so good.  I’m sure it’s a killer case of carpal tunnel waiting to happen.  *shrug*

I was looking through my grandmother’s sheet music, searching for some beginner guitar books.  Instead, I found handwritten letters– a whole folder of them– from Volkner David Kirchner. I found photographs of this man from when he was young, several newspaper clippings written in German, and some signed sheet music.  I believe I found some music he had handwritten and mailed to her.

Who is this man?  I knew the name sounded familiar, and for some reason I think he may have been my grandmother’s cousin… I remember hearing as a child that we were related to a great violin maker.   Turns out, I found nothing on the internet about a violin maker… instead, I discovered a reknown violinist.

The letters are all in German.  It’s challenging deciphering handwritten words in English– let alone words in a language I haven’t used in years.  I intend on having someone translate them for me.  Perhaps then I’ll understand the relationship he had with a woman who left us far too soon.

SO, cool.

Something was wrong with my feed.  Like, it was directing to the blog itself, and not to the feed.  I don’t know why.  But I fixed it.

I activated the new plugin, which gave me a new widget, and now you can read “Into the Rabbit Hole” via feed or you can set up an email subscription.

Either way.

If you need help, I can teach you.  Don’t miss a post.  Really.  It would make me cry.