January 22, 2008
Traditional Medicine is Sweet
Of course, that's because a lot of it contains lead. On purpose. Mmmm, love me some of that folk wisdom.
Labels:
Skepticism
January 18, 2008
Oh, LEGO
Ben's birthday is today. I know he'd love more Star Wars LEGOs, but he won't be getting them from me. And despite everything Lucas has done, it's not about Star Wars.
I played with LEGOs as a kid whenever I could. They're the ultimate in undirected play. They don't require great dexterity, they come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes, and they don't get knocked over by stray breezes or brothers. LEGOs were great.
Then, a few years ago, I walked into the LEGO store at Hugedale (Snoopydale at the time). It's a great looking place, with art that explores the limits of what can be done with their product. It's also filled with ecstatic screaming children, miserable screaming children, and children screaming that they need "THIS--RIGHT NOW!" Ahem. Anyway.
A couple of steps into the store was a barrel of LEGO-figure key chains. It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing. Then a few more to get my breath back. I chirped, "Hey, Ben, look. You can grow up to be a fireman." Hold up one key chain. "Or a doctor." Another. "Or a policeman. Or Darth Vader. Or an astronaut." Drop the voice by an octave. "Or a girl!"
Bastards.
No more LEGOs for Ben's birthday. Not this year. Not ever.
I played with LEGOs as a kid whenever I could. They're the ultimate in undirected play. They don't require great dexterity, they come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes, and they don't get knocked over by stray breezes or brothers. LEGOs were great.
Then, a few years ago, I walked into the LEGO store at Hugedale (Snoopydale at the time). It's a great looking place, with art that explores the limits of what can be done with their product. It's also filled with ecstatic screaming children, miserable screaming children, and children screaming that they need "THIS--RIGHT NOW!" Ahem. Anyway.
A couple of steps into the store was a barrel of LEGO-figure key chains. It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing. Then a few more to get my breath back. I chirped, "Hey, Ben, look. You can grow up to be a fireman." Hold up one key chain. "Or a doctor." Another. "Or a policeman. Or Darth Vader. Or an astronaut." Drop the voice by an octave. "Or a girl!"
Bastards.
No more LEGOs for Ben's birthday. Not this year. Not ever.
Labels:
rant
Rodents of Unusual Size
Meet Josephoartigasia monesi, a one-ton prehistoric guinea pig.
As P.Z. points out, "[t]here is no suggestion that it lived in a fire swamp — its habitat was probably forested river deltas."
As P.Z. points out, "[t]here is no suggestion that it lived in a fire swamp — its habitat was probably forested river deltas."
Labels:
cool
January 02, 2008
Cooking Blind
There's an odd challenge to cooking a meal in the middle of a migraine aura. This cup of cornmeal feels level; is it? Where exactly is the top of the milk in the measure? I can tell the venison isn't red anymore, but how brown is it? Am I going to get this done before the pain starts? Will I want any food by the time it's done? Whee!
So far, so good. It's in the oven and still smells like food.
On a side note, I have to stop beating myself up for being lazy when I just don't feel up to working--not sick, just not well. I started keeping track. It's generally three to five hours between the start of "lazy" and the start of the migraine.
So far, so good. It's in the oven and still smells like food.
On a side note, I have to stop beating myself up for being lazy when I just don't feel up to working--not sick, just not well. I started keeping track. It's generally three to five hours between the start of "lazy" and the start of the migraine.
Labels:
Difference
January 01, 2008
Eating Meat, Lots of Meat
There's a character I've been wanting to write for a while but probably won't until the next book. He's a vegetarian. It's pretty central to his character, and I want to make sure I do it justice. But thinking about it made me realize just how not a vegetarian I am.
I started counting the number of different kinds of meat I've eaten. Once I lost track for the third time, it was time to write it down. I've probably forgotten some, but here's the list. (*) designates a critter I've cleaned or otherwise taken apart. (**) means it was live when I got it.
Mammals
Forty-one animals, with probable omissions and not counting varietals. That's a lot of meat.
I started counting the number of different kinds of meat I've eaten. Once I lost track for the third time, it was time to write it down. I've probably forgotten some, but here's the list. (*) designates a critter I've cleaned or otherwise taken apart. (**) means it was live when I got it.
Mammals
- Cow
- Pig
- Sheep
- Deer*
- Elk
- Bison
- Goat
- Yak
- Rabbit
- Squirrel*
- Chicken
- Turkey
- Duck
- Goose
- Pheasant
- Pigeon
- Cod (and other "whitefish")
- Sunfish**
- Crappie**
- Bass**
- Trout
- Salmon
- Tuna
- Shark
- Swordfish
- Tilapia
- Mahi mahi
- Snapping turtle
- Alligator
- Snail
- Crawfish
- Shrimp
- Lobster
- Crab
- Clam**
- Oyster
- Mussel**
- Scallop
- Conch
- Squid
- Octopus
Forty-one animals, with probable omissions and not counting varietals. That's a lot of meat.
Labels:
Recipes
December 26, 2007
Idiots
Organizers of the first annual National Hanging Out in the Street Night were disappointed Sunday when inclement weather forced the cancellation of their long-planned event. "The late December snowstorms that covered most of the nation took us by surprise," said Eugene Dipwad, event organizer. "It's the kind of freak occurrence you can only hope will happen on someone else's special day instead of yours."
The National Hanging Out in the Street Night committee, or NHOITSC ("The second N would just make it sound silly," said the group's treasurer, Harriet Pibrayne), tried to get word of the cancellation out early. Still, many people seemed determined to carry on with the festivities. Streets everywhere held more pedestrians than usual.
Some revelers looked tentative, justifying their existence in the middle of the road by standing near open car doors. Others were more bold, marching two or three abreast beside perfectly clear sidewalks. The one thing all had in common was a confidence that drivers sliding through intersections and fishtailing down parkways would regain control before hitting the celebrants. Their trust was made even more touching by the prevailing whiteout conditions.
Dipwad beamed when informed of the impromptu festivities. "With indomitable spirits like those by our side, National Hanging Out in the Street Night can only be a success. Next year, we'll have contingency plans in place for this kind of thing. Whatever the weather, we'll pack the streets. You can count on us!"
The National Hanging Out in the Street Night committee, or NHOITSC ("The second N would just make it sound silly," said the group's treasurer, Harriet Pibrayne), tried to get word of the cancellation out early. Still, many people seemed determined to carry on with the festivities. Streets everywhere held more pedestrians than usual.
Some revelers looked tentative, justifying their existence in the middle of the road by standing near open car doors. Others were more bold, marching two or three abreast beside perfectly clear sidewalks. The one thing all had in common was a confidence that drivers sliding through intersections and fishtailing down parkways would regain control before hitting the celebrants. Their trust was made even more touching by the prevailing whiteout conditions.
Dipwad beamed when informed of the impromptu festivities. "With indomitable spirits like those by our side, National Hanging Out in the Street Night can only be a success. Next year, we'll have contingency plans in place for this kind of thing. Whatever the weather, we'll pack the streets. You can count on us!"
December 20, 2007
An Atheist's Christmas
Because it's the time of year when we turn our backs on the dark and celebrate the return of the light:
- Christopher Hitchens reads Tom Lehrer's "Christmas Carol"
- "The Atheist's Christmas in 2107," a short story
- A look at what a non-politically-correct Christmas really looks like
- Santas for all occasions
- Ricky Gervais has an entertaining argument with the Archbishop of Canterbury
- An inspirational message from Santa
Labels:
Skepticism
November 24, 2007
Ravioli, er, Thanksgiving Update
Thanksgiving came and went and, oh, goodness. I couldn't have predicted how well the squash ravioli would taste. True, it ended up more squash lasagna after baking, but, oh.
The sauce was a very basic sherry cream sauce. About 1/2 cup finely chopped shallots, sweated in 2 tablespoons butter and more salt than I'd have used if I'd remembered to put any in the filling. Add 2 cups sherry, turn up the heat, and breathe through the nose (oh) while it reduces to about 1/3. Add 2 cups stock, then two cups heavy cream. Whisk thoroughly and pour over a 10 x 12 baking dish full of frozen ravioli. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes or so.
That went (quite well) with the rest of the meal:
- Two grilled turkeys, one stuffed under the skin with garlic and rosemary, one with jerk seasoning
- Gravy from drippings and milk (about a cup of honey wine poured in the bottom of each pan pre-grilling kept the drippings from burning and caramelized nicely), made with a roux while the turkeys rested
- Potatoes mashed with sour cream and butter
- Steamed broccoli topped with melted cheese
- Sage dressing with sunflower seeds and dried cherries
- Grandma's cranberry relish (ground cranberries, a tiny bit of sugar, crushed pineapple and mini marshmallows, folded with stiff whipped cream)
- Chewy, whole-grain bread with homemade elderberry and cherry jelly
- For thems as wanted it, a nice chardonnay that stood up to all those flavors better than it had any right to
- For thems as didn't, fresh, unfiltered apple cider
Dessert was hours after dinner, by long tradition and popular demand.
- An apple-pecan pie from the orchard
- Spicy pumpkin pie (fresh nutmeg, ginger, Ceylon cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and plenty of all of it) from fresh pumpkin
- Cinnamon ice cream to go on top
Everything was done when expected and at the same time. Everyone was cheerful except my niece, who had a good excuse and mostly slept it off on the couch. Everyone brought something, so we only provided the turkey, gravy, cranberries, ravioli, and pumpkin pie.
(I keep telling myself that I'll learn to make good dressing someday, but I don't believe it. Fundamentally, I just don't believe in bread pudding. I think it knows that somehow. Or maybe I simply can't make myself put that much butter and that many eggs into a single dish.)
Later, we were asked to show our vacation photos. Then we introduced folks to Super Rub-a-Dub, a PS3 game involving rubber ducks and wind-up toy sharks. Brutally simple and highly addicting. Even Ben's mom and her boyfriend had to play.
All in all, we couldn't have asked for the day to turn out better.
The sauce was a very basic sherry cream sauce. About 1/2 cup finely chopped shallots, sweated in 2 tablespoons butter and more salt than I'd have used if I'd remembered to put any in the filling. Add 2 cups sherry, turn up the heat, and breathe through the nose (oh) while it reduces to about 1/3. Add 2 cups stock, then two cups heavy cream. Whisk thoroughly and pour over a 10 x 12 baking dish full of frozen ravioli. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes or so.
That went (quite well) with the rest of the meal:
- Two grilled turkeys, one stuffed under the skin with garlic and rosemary, one with jerk seasoning
- Gravy from drippings and milk (about a cup of honey wine poured in the bottom of each pan pre-grilling kept the drippings from burning and caramelized nicely), made with a roux while the turkeys rested
- Potatoes mashed with sour cream and butter
- Steamed broccoli topped with melted cheese
- Sage dressing with sunflower seeds and dried cherries
- Grandma's cranberry relish (ground cranberries, a tiny bit of sugar, crushed pineapple and mini marshmallows, folded with stiff whipped cream)
- Chewy, whole-grain bread with homemade elderberry and cherry jelly
- For thems as wanted it, a nice chardonnay that stood up to all those flavors better than it had any right to
- For thems as didn't, fresh, unfiltered apple cider
Dessert was hours after dinner, by long tradition and popular demand.
- An apple-pecan pie from the orchard
- Spicy pumpkin pie (fresh nutmeg, ginger, Ceylon cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and plenty of all of it) from fresh pumpkin
- Cinnamon ice cream to go on top
Everything was done when expected and at the same time. Everyone was cheerful except my niece, who had a good excuse and mostly slept it off on the couch. Everyone brought something, so we only provided the turkey, gravy, cranberries, ravioli, and pumpkin pie.
(I keep telling myself that I'll learn to make good dressing someday, but I don't believe it. Fundamentally, I just don't believe in bread pudding. I think it knows that somehow. Or maybe I simply can't make myself put that much butter and that many eggs into a single dish.)
Later, we were asked to show our vacation photos. Then we introduced folks to Super Rub-a-Dub, a PS3 game involving rubber ducks and wind-up toy sharks. Brutally simple and highly addicting. Even Ben's mom and her boyfriend had to play.
All in all, we couldn't have asked for the day to turn out better.
Labels:
Recipes
November 17, 2007
Oh, the Cheer
I walked into the lobby at work this week to find a barbershop quartet singing "Cabaret." I winced. Then I made a bet with myself. There would be no Elsie in this version of the song.
Remember Elsie, who "rented by the hour"? Well, no, unless you like the musical, you probably don't. Popular versions almost exclusively leave her out, despite her being central to the message of the song.
I hate the beigification of music. Kander and Ebb's musical was (and is) popular because it wasn't sickly sweet sap. "Cabaret" is a powerful song about defiantly grasping moments of joy in a grim life--until you take out Elsie. Then all it says is, "Party on, dude." It's like turning Mack the Knife into the next best thing to Robin Hood by leaving out the verses about rape and burnt children. Or taking "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" up tempo and major key. It's a special sort of sacrilege.
Not that I have anything against good covers. Insane Clown Posse's "Let's Go All the Way" is a sheer delight (and their only song that doesn't make me giggle--I'm so not their target market). My favorite Siouxsie and the Banshees album is Through the Looking Glass. I highly recommend the new Madness, The Dangerman Sessions. Covers that do what covers are supposed to do are beautiful things.
What are covers supposed to do? One of two things: pay tribute to the original or add to it. Smash Mouth paid tribute to "I'm a Believer" by saying it didn't need updating to be worth listening to today. Cake's "I Will Survive" updates the original by stripping off the polish to emphasize the anger and determination. Both rock. Covers that merely render a song down into pablum? Blegh.
Of course, I won my bet. No Elsie. Not even a "cradle to grave." Double blegh.
Remember Elsie, who "rented by the hour"? Well, no, unless you like the musical, you probably don't. Popular versions almost exclusively leave her out, despite her being central to the message of the song.
I hate the beigification of music. Kander and Ebb's musical was (and is) popular because it wasn't sickly sweet sap. "Cabaret" is a powerful song about defiantly grasping moments of joy in a grim life--until you take out Elsie. Then all it says is, "Party on, dude." It's like turning Mack the Knife into the next best thing to Robin Hood by leaving out the verses about rape and burnt children. Or taking "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" up tempo and major key. It's a special sort of sacrilege.
Not that I have anything against good covers. Insane Clown Posse's "Let's Go All the Way" is a sheer delight (and their only song that doesn't make me giggle--I'm so not their target market). My favorite Siouxsie and the Banshees album is Through the Looking Glass. I highly recommend the new Madness, The Dangerman Sessions. Covers that do what covers are supposed to do are beautiful things.
What are covers supposed to do? One of two things: pay tribute to the original or add to it. Smash Mouth paid tribute to "I'm a Believer" by saying it didn't need updating to be worth listening to today. Cake's "I Will Survive" updates the original by stripping off the polish to emphasize the anger and determination. Both rock. Covers that merely render a song down into pablum? Blegh.
Of course, I won my bet. No Elsie. Not even a "cradle to grave." Double blegh.
Labels:
rant
November 03, 2007
Thanksgiving Prep/Savory Squash Ravioli
I know it's a little early, but I started cooking for Thanksgiving today. We decided, oh, about the time that winter squash came into season that we wanted to serve squash ravioli for one of the vegetable dishes. So today I picked up a couple of small acorn squash and baked them in a tiny bit of water until pliable.
I like squash ravioli in restaurants--for about the first four ravioli. Most places use a filling that's essentially squash, butter and nutmeg. It gets cloying. I wanted to do something with more complex flavor and texture. Into the food processor went about 3/4 cup chopped pecans. I dug in the pantry a little further. I'd originally thought dried cranberries, but how many cranberry dishes do you want in one meal? Ooh, smoked dried tomatoes. Just a very small handful.
Then it was on to the spice drawer. I wanted rosemary, but I saw the oregano on the way, so I grabbed both. I did my favorite test to determine which spice to use. Sniff the squash. Sniff the oregano. Not bad at all. Sniff the squash. Sniff the rosemary. Also making my mouth water. Repeat. They were both equally appealing after repeated tests, so I went with a very healthy pinch of oregano. One of the turkeys will likely get rosemary and garlic stuffed under the skin pre-grilling.
I ran the processor a bit to break down the tomatoes, then scooped in the squash. It wasn't quite both of them, because I decided I wanted about 1/5 squash for myself. No fun in cooking only for other people, you know. And I'd just been sniffing the stuff. I ran the processor again to mix it all up, then threw it in the fridge while I made pasta.
It will make about five dozen medium ravioli--once I get more eggs and make more pasta. That's okay. I can only freeze so many comfortably at one time. Based on the taste test, I achieved my flavor and texture goals. There's just a bit too much smoke when eating the filling on its own, but that should be perfect when I bake the ravioli in a sherry garlic cream sauce.
Yum. I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving.
I like squash ravioli in restaurants--for about the first four ravioli. Most places use a filling that's essentially squash, butter and nutmeg. It gets cloying. I wanted to do something with more complex flavor and texture. Into the food processor went about 3/4 cup chopped pecans. I dug in the pantry a little further. I'd originally thought dried cranberries, but how many cranberry dishes do you want in one meal? Ooh, smoked dried tomatoes. Just a very small handful.
Then it was on to the spice drawer. I wanted rosemary, but I saw the oregano on the way, so I grabbed both. I did my favorite test to determine which spice to use. Sniff the squash. Sniff the oregano. Not bad at all. Sniff the squash. Sniff the rosemary. Also making my mouth water. Repeat. They were both equally appealing after repeated tests, so I went with a very healthy pinch of oregano. One of the turkeys will likely get rosemary and garlic stuffed under the skin pre-grilling.
I ran the processor a bit to break down the tomatoes, then scooped in the squash. It wasn't quite both of them, because I decided I wanted about 1/5 squash for myself. No fun in cooking only for other people, you know. And I'd just been sniffing the stuff. I ran the processor again to mix it all up, then threw it in the fridge while I made pasta.
It will make about five dozen medium ravioli--once I get more eggs and make more pasta. That's okay. I can only freeze so many comfortably at one time. Based on the taste test, I achieved my flavor and texture goals. There's just a bit too much smoke when eating the filling on its own, but that should be perfect when I bake the ravioli in a sherry garlic cream sauce.
Yum. I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving.
Labels:
Recipes
November 02, 2007
Dance of Diplomacy
I had one of those moments today, when the big details of planning the next book start popping up and falling into place. The darn thing's been simmering for months (since before I finished the last book last December) but hasn't really felt substantial until now. I felt like I was short a subplot.
Yesterday I realized I was telling a story that put a nineteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl with very different backgrounds in close proximity for a long period of time. Even with an alien chaperone, they're going to at least explore the idea of romance. Duh. There will be flirting or fighting or (ideally) both.
Fourth plot line in place, I think I've got a book. Today seems to have proved it, as all the plot lines started to fill out and jostle for position. I'm not ready to start it yet (good, since I have a couple of shorts I want to finish before starting another long project), but I know where it all has to start. It won't be long until I've figured out the order in which everything has to happen.
Now I just have to get that hula research done.
Yesterday I realized I was telling a story that put a nineteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl with very different backgrounds in close proximity for a long period of time. Even with an alien chaperone, they're going to at least explore the idea of romance. Duh. There will be flirting or fighting or (ideally) both.
Fourth plot line in place, I think I've got a book. Today seems to have proved it, as all the plot lines started to fill out and jostle for position. I'm not ready to start it yet (good, since I have a couple of shorts I want to finish before starting another long project), but I know where it all has to start. It won't be long until I've figured out the order in which everything has to happen.
Now I just have to get that hula research done.
Labels:
Art
October 17, 2007
Breaking Rules, Part I
Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe appeared in 33 novels and 39 shorter works. He is one of literature's most perfectly delineated creatures of habit. Some things I know about Nero Wolfe's household:
Not a bad piece of advice for any fiction, really.
- Wolfe does not leave the brownstone.
- Wolfe is not to be interrupted between 9 and 11 a.m., 4 and 6 p.m. each day, when he is in the plant rooms.
- Wolfe will not discuss business over meals.
- Food for Wolfe's table is procured to his specifications.
- Wolfe considers it an abomination for anyone to skip a meal.
- Archie (assistant), Orrie (operative), Theodore (orchid tender), and Fritz (cook) work for Wolfe.
- Archie requires eight hours of sleep to function.
- Wolfe does not take Archie seriously when he speaks of getting married.
- Wolfe does not shake hands.
- Wolfe, being terrified of women, does not converse with them except in fulfilling the requirements of business.
- Wolfe does not take cases, except when the bank balance is low and the fee is high.
- Wolfe's clients come to him.
- Wolfe's clients are innocent.
- Wolfe does not allow himself to be used.
- Wolfe, being a genius, determines the identity of the killer before Archie.
- Wolfe does not use his operatives for any job requiring simple manpower. That is left to the police.
- Archie and Wolfe maintain a strained relationship with the police, particularly with Inspector Cramer.
- Cramer calls Archie by his last name.
Not a bad piece of advice for any fiction, really.
Labels:
Art
October 11, 2007
Update
On the upside, despite having migraines and not knowing what they were, I've thrown a party, completed my book revisions and started to distribute betas, and gotten a compliment from Steve Brust since my last post in September. Not too shabby for a defective kid.
Labels:
Difference
Migraineur
I added a new word to my vocabulary last night, but I'm not as thrilled as you might think. I'm apparently a migraineur, whether I like it or not. I mean, I already knew I got migraines--not much to like there. But migraineur makes it sound as though I'm a purveyor, like I cause the stupid things.
The phrase I added along with migraineur is migraine variant, which is much more useful. It means all those migraines I get without the headache. Didn't know you could get migraines that don't hurt? Neither did I until a few years ago. That was when I discovered that I wasn't getting 3-4 migraines a year. I was getting 3-4 of them a week.
Sure, they didn't hurt (unless I had a tension headache on top of them, which did happen). I was just photosensitive, sleepy, and unable to think beyond about two steps of complexity. The surface of the world sort of rippled with light. My face was numb and my fingers were cold. I didn't hurt; I just felt like crap. Then I took a nice little beta blocker (adrenaline antagonist) for a year, which made them mostly go away.
Last night I was reading a post on Science Blogs about Alice in Wonderland syndrome, in which people feel like they've been obeying the "Eat me" and "Drink me" signs. Their bodies seem to have changed dimensions. My reaction was "Wait. You mean not everyone feels that way? So why am I waving to my feet right now?" Then the article mentioned a link to migraines, and I knew why I'd felt like crap for the last few weeks. It explained the two days of dizziness and sleepiness over my birthday and a whole host of other weird symptoms that didn't quite fit allergies or a virus.
Sigh. So now I have three choices.
(1) I can rearrange my life to avoid adrenaline. I suspect my very stressful spring and summer have a lot to do with undoing the progress the beta blockers made. But I've learned so much since I've taken on my more stressful job, and I've accomplished things I don't want to turn my back on. This is my least favorite choice.
(2) I can try to rebuild my response to stressors--stop producing so much adrenaline. I've taken so much of my life apart and put it back together that this seems possible, but I'm not sure. I've been shy since birth, phobic since not long after, and somewhat emotionally abused. Weird to say, but I've never really not been stressed, except when I was on the beta blockers. Even then, I was producing adrenaline, I just wasn't sensitive to it. Still, I think it's worth a try, at least until "not being stressed" becomes just one more thing on my to do list.
Then it's back to (3), my lovely little blue beta blockers. They're not bad, really. I just have to remember to take a deep breath every time I sit or stand up. They only made me pass out once (not a recommended work activity, by the way).
One way or another, migraineur no more.
The phrase I added along with migraineur is migraine variant, which is much more useful. It means all those migraines I get without the headache. Didn't know you could get migraines that don't hurt? Neither did I until a few years ago. That was when I discovered that I wasn't getting 3-4 migraines a year. I was getting 3-4 of them a week.
Sure, they didn't hurt (unless I had a tension headache on top of them, which did happen). I was just photosensitive, sleepy, and unable to think beyond about two steps of complexity. The surface of the world sort of rippled with light. My face was numb and my fingers were cold. I didn't hurt; I just felt like crap. Then I took a nice little beta blocker (adrenaline antagonist) for a year, which made them mostly go away.
Last night I was reading a post on Science Blogs about Alice in Wonderland syndrome, in which people feel like they've been obeying the "Eat me" and "Drink me" signs. Their bodies seem to have changed dimensions. My reaction was "Wait. You mean not everyone feels that way? So why am I waving to my feet right now?" Then the article mentioned a link to migraines, and I knew why I'd felt like crap for the last few weeks. It explained the two days of dizziness and sleepiness over my birthday and a whole host of other weird symptoms that didn't quite fit allergies or a virus.
Sigh. So now I have three choices.
(1) I can rearrange my life to avoid adrenaline. I suspect my very stressful spring and summer have a lot to do with undoing the progress the beta blockers made. But I've learned so much since I've taken on my more stressful job, and I've accomplished things I don't want to turn my back on. This is my least favorite choice.
(2) I can try to rebuild my response to stressors--stop producing so much adrenaline. I've taken so much of my life apart and put it back together that this seems possible, but I'm not sure. I've been shy since birth, phobic since not long after, and somewhat emotionally abused. Weird to say, but I've never really not been stressed, except when I was on the beta blockers. Even then, I was producing adrenaline, I just wasn't sensitive to it. Still, I think it's worth a try, at least until "not being stressed" becomes just one more thing on my to do list.
Then it's back to (3), my lovely little blue beta blockers. They're not bad, really. I just have to remember to take a deep breath every time I sit or stand up. They only made me pass out once (not a recommended work activity, by the way).
One way or another, migraineur no more.
Labels:
Difference
September 12, 2007
Political Joke
Q: How many dead Minnesotans does it take to change a Republican governor's mind about funding infrastructure?
A: Apparently, more than 13.
You don't think that's funny? Me neither. Just true.
A: Apparently, more than 13.
You don't think that's funny? Me neither. Just true.
Labels:
Skepticism
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