Saul Good and Co.

Alert the Media

The first thing I did the night of the election was to delete Facebook from my phone, and I didn't sign on at all for days afterward. I generally enjoy social media, but I knew it was the best thing for my mental health at the time. I didn't want to read anything, not even from my supportive community. I wanted to process on my own time. It was the right thing. After this past weekend of endless feed refreshing that rewarded me with escalating horror (and probably not giving my son the attention he deserves from me),  it seems we've come to that point again. It's too much. Not the news itself, which of course by nature absolutely wayyyy too much and physically sickening, but I can't avoid reality. I'm not trying to avoid reality. I'm just trying to control the flow of it into my life so I can best deal with it. I'm going to be taking a break from Facebook again for awhile. I'll check it periodically on my desktop because that's where all my blog interaction happens, but other than that, I'm freezing my media presence. I'll probably still check Instagram, as the content there is generally soothing, but as far as the barrage of information goes, I'm going to stanch it. I'll get the news somehow. I'll feel the outrage and call to action. I'll attend the rallies and plan and plot and read and write and catch up on some good movies and listen to Joni Mitchell and Patti Smith and Nina Simone and hang out with my family and do the best I can to focus on fixing everything I can possibly fix. I'll dedicate more time to this blog, starting with a repeat of the photo-prompt exercise that worked out really well for me last year. The quest for increasing this nourishing energy can only help, right? 

I'm not sure how long I plan to stay away, but for now that's what I'll be doing. I'll miss you guys, but you understand.

Pwr 2 th Ppl

I didn't march last Saturday. Not because I didn't want to, and not because I don't believe there was a need for it. I had some good family stuff to attend, and fam is always going to be my jam. I'm sorry that I missed it for the sheer exhilarating empowerment and good vibes and solidarity and the historic nature. But overall I'm not too shook up that I wasn't there because I plan to be front and center for the movement that it heralded, organized resistance against the reign of the sexual predator who lost the popular vote who now gets to make decisions that affect all  of us. I live in real reality with real facts and I accept the fact that Trump is President. I do not in any way, however, accept his presidency, on the grounds that he's made it clear from the spermy origin of his campaign that he has no intention of being president for anyone but himself.

The way I see it, there are a few different schools of thought on this administration right now, and really two major opposing ones. One is, get over it and move on and fall in line for the good of our country. The other is--and obviously I'm true to this school--yes, a would-be tyrant somehow made his way into the big show and it is my sacred duty as a proud American to reject tyranny. This brand of patriotism, the one I hold close to my radical heart for every person whose human rights are on the chopping block, demands that WE demand more from our leaders. Maybe you think that marching accomplishes nothing. It did a thing or two for the suffragettes and civil rights movement. Maybe you don't think that the Women's March applies to you, or you don't need it. Good for you then, but millions of people differ on this, and loudly. Maybe you don't like the tone of the movement, or the vulgar language of those who marched or whatever and to that I gracefully, sincerely say, suck my left one. The time to be polite has passed. We can go high, but we we're not required to do it in a pretty pleasing package. This is not whining or victimhood. This is the voice of the people, and the people are PISSED.

I am well aware that there's a lot lot LOT of work ahead. It's intimidating, and uncomfortable and kind of scary, and it's exciting too because in the work there is hope. There's hope for everyone who is being bulldozed right now. We don't have to take it, and we won't. There's a stirring in the ashes of our torched election hopes. I reckon you've never seen the likes of this Phoenix.

Yo Gluten, Smell You Later

OK, here's the situation:

my kid's growing rate had hit stagnation, so

the doctor man ordered a big blood test

did HR mind?

hmmm, well he called the phlebotomist a vampire

The blood technicians gave it a little spin and

it came back showing slight anemia, and

the chances of Celiac disease were pretty good

would he need an endoscopy?

yeah... of course he would.

blah blah blah, to make this long story short....

HR was diagnosed with Celiac disease. Which, in the history of diseases to have is not horrible. This will require a gluten-free diet for his entire life (and dairy free for at least the next six months, shoot me), but as long as it is managed, he'll be just fine. It's not a super shock, I mean, my mother's side of the family is a veritable autoimmune smorgasbord. Got your Crohn's here, your Colitis here, little Juvenile Arthritis over here, don't forget this big old dish of MS and yeah, Celiac happens to be a very popular selection. On the positive side, it's great that his specialist was able to catch it because the proper diet makes all damage done reversible, so the earlier the reversal, the better. And HR is the third diagnosed in my family over the last decade, so we have the wealth of knowledge and support of the other members of Club Celiac on our side. When my cousin was diagnosed years ago, it took forever for them to find out what was wrong with her. Furthermore, the average person knew nothing about this disease and gluten free eating was super challenging, but she inspired my family to up their gluten free offerings, and man, the food industry has come a long way since then as well.

My boy didn't have any real classic symptoms that led to the diagnosis, but the slowing of his growth trajectory was a red flag for the specialist we'd been seeing for a different reason that, in retrospect, is probably related. But the point is, you can live with Celiac for a long, long time before you know you have it. And now hopefully we can get it all right so his body will start absorbing nutrients again and he can catch up to where he should be. I had assumed he was just destined to be little.

Parenting's fun innit? This whole deal, especially the bit with the endoscopy (which was a piece of cake [sorry] for HR, he had no idea what happened) makes me really, really appreciate the families I work with and what they go through every day with their gravely ill children. Going forward, it's going to be hard, but like I said, manageable. There are so many gluten free products out there, and for a long time we've known we needed to buckle down on what HR eats because I'm personally way too lenient in that department, so it'll be a mostly good thing. It's just the thought of things like birthday parties and other occasions where he might feel excluded. We'll do what we can to make sure he has an alternative to whatever other kids are getting, but that's the most difficult thing for me. The most important thing is for us to be champions for our healthy kid.

That's what I've been up to, lately. And we got to celebrate our beloved nephew's first birthday and I got my hair dyed blue. Some things are terrible, but mostly it's going to be ok.

Your Darlings

I don't mind blogging infrequently on principle, I'd rather have quality words to share than just filler, but man is it easy to get out of practice when I slow down my output. In the mildly depressed brainspace I've been occupying for the past few months, I really let my writing muscles atrophy. That ends now. It's got to if I'm ever going to accomplish anything I want to, so it's time to polish off my Discipline-ator 2000. Just write, girl. Even if it's something nobody else will ever see. 

Sometimes it's necessary for me to go the public flogging/pep talk route to clear out the gunk and make me accountable before re-entry. I must throw up about four of these kind of posts per year going back to the early 2000s when I got into the electronic word-vom game. They're not fun to read, but they are somehow essential for me to get back into writing shape. It's part of my process or something. Let's go with that. I'm going to stop talking about that now.

In case you think I'm all about me and my me-ism, I want to say that Obama's last address shattered me and I know I'm not alone. I am so appreciative for the past eight years and his thoughtful, dignified leadership that I came to take for granted. I will let that stand alone. The Obamas make me endlessly proud, and may their legacy speak for itself in history.

I'm going to end this awkward jumbled missive with something that brings me joy. So look, sometimes I honestly don't see it when I get a gander at pictures taken in my home, but usually I'm not unaware of the mortifying state of it when I post. Maybe you've noticed when I've got a mess going on, maybe not, maybe you care, I thought I did, but upon reflection I actually don't. The point is--and this is probably the best metaphor for how I'm trying to mold my overall outlook--I'm not going to stop capturing and focusing on what makes me happy because the background isn't perfect. I'm not going to give up on cleaning and tidying around the house, but sometimes it's not top priority. This portrait of my little art monster at work in his new studio is giving me life right now, and inspires me to make art with similar abandon. So thanks, kid, for once again being exactly what I need.

Vow Wow Wow

Is time speeding up for everyone else, or is it just me? I feel like I've been living on fast forward. That's life, maybe. That's what life is. A constant battle with time. What a crock. 

Anyway, life is back to some kind of normal and that's good. I haven't felt like myself for so long I almost can't remember what that felt like or if my fundamental self has transformed, but I think I'm pretty close to what I remember of it. Not exactly sure why, but I'll take it. I feel inspired to take things by the reins and get my act in gear and all those dorky platitudes. To write my face off and be hopeful and work for the world I want to live in. I'm also planning to get more stickler-y about my blog subjects, as in, not just writing about my mental fuckery like I've been doing for the past couple of months. Sometimes I can't help it, but I want to help it. If it bores me, I can't fathom what it's doing to anyone who might have once been interested in reading here. 

Ok, that's all I wanted to say. I'm still here. I haven't thrown in the towel. Next time I write, I'll be more writerly. And Happy Fahckin New Year. 

Is time speeding up for everyone else, or is it just me? I feel like I've been living on fast forward. That's life, maybe. That's what life is. A constant battle with time. What a crock. 

Anyway, life is back to some kind of normal and that's good. I haven't felt like myself for so long I almost can't remember what that felt like or if my fundamental self has transformed, but I think I'm pretty close to what I remember of it. Not exactly sure why, but I'll take it. I feel inspired to take things by the reins and get my act in gear and all those dorky platitudes. To write my face off and be hopeful and work for the world I want to live in. I'm also planning to get more stickler-y about my blog subjects, as in, not just writing about my mental fuckery like I've been doing for the past couple of months. Sometimes I can't help it, but I want to help it. If it bores me, I can't fathom what it's doing to anyone who might have once been interested in reading here. 

Ok, that's all I wanted to say. I'm still here. I haven't thrown in the towel. Next time I write, I'll be more writerly. And Happy Fahckin New Year.