Oct 12

Where I’ve Been

I’ve not been talkative of late. I’ve had some introspective-thinky incidents, and a great deal of work to do. When I get bogged down like this, I generally retreat into a carefully constructed hole of meaningless diversion. It’s not pretty, but it’s the truth.

This time, it’s different. There’s so much effort and thought that goes into planning an Anusara-style class, and that work keeps you grounded and completely, uncomfortably, unflinchingly involved in the guts of living. We theme our classes; not only physically, but emotionally. It’s like theatre without the comforting veneer of character. If your heart’s not in your theme, if you’re not engaged with the material, you come across as full of shit. No one wants to be called on their bullshit when they’re surrounded by a bunch of buff people who know how to bend themselves (and YOU) in terrible configurations.

So the practice keeps me focused and present, even when I’d rather be staring at YouTube or cleaning the tile with a toothbrush. The teaching digs more deeply than the practice, and while my physical progress is best measured in micrometers, I feel like I’m making some serious head&heart-way.

Sep 18

“Planned Parenthood would like to thank Sarah Palin…”

It’s no surprise Sarah Palin disgusts me: her lying, hypocrisy, ethics, and opinions on reproductive rights can send me into furious, hour-long rants; much less her piss-poor understanding environmental stewardship, her belief that God cares a lot more about war and oil than social programs, and her ignorance to the vital role community organizers play in our society.  I could easily write an essay, but I won’t.

Anything else I say will detract from my main message, which is that there’s a way for you to voice your disappointment/rage/frustration in a constructive way.

There is an online grassroots movement (GO COMMUNITY ORGANIZERS!!) urging people to donate to Planned Parenthood “in honor of” Sarah Palin.

Craig Newmark (yes, Craigslist Craig) writes on The HuffPo:

When you make a donation to PP in her name, they’ll send her a card telling her that the donation has been made in her honor.  Here’s the link to the Planned Parenthood website:

https://secure.ga0.org/02/pp10000_inhonor

You’ll need to fill in the address to let PP know where to send the “in Sarah Palin’s honor” card. I suggest you use the address for the McCain campaign headquarters, which is:

McCain for President
1235 S. Clark Street
1st Floor
Arlington , VA 22202

P.S. Make sure you use that link above or choose the pulldown of Donate–Honorary or Memorial Donations, not the regular “Donate Online”

In my opinion, this is using the full snark of the Internet for the highest good.  I would be thrilled if it came to be that Sarah Palin was responsible for the largest online fundraiser for Planned Parenthood.

Jun 16

How was your weekend? Mine was spent in the recovery ward.

I’m beat, so I’m going to link over to Matthew’s post.

June 15, 2008
Shortest Hobby Ever
Filed under: parkour — mglover @ 6:52 pm

Yesterday morning a bunch of us planned to get together and make our first real foray into parkour training.  While sitting around waiting for the others to show up, I jokingly posted to twitter: Waiting around for the other wannabe traceurs. On the menu: rolls, speed vaults, turn vaults, kongs, precision jumps, and emergency rooms.

Let me tell you, as I lay in the emergency room, the bone in my shin exposed to open air, that joke was hilarious.

I’m fine.  It was a stupid fluke accident.  I encountered a wall about waist high, put my hands on it, vaulted over it, and as I landed on the other side, the top tier of concrete blocks came free and landed on my left shin and foot.  It looked and felt really, really bad.  Luckily I was running with Billy.  He sprinted back to where we’d left the cars, rushed me to the emergency room, saw to it that I got admitted right away, and called everybody who needed calling.  He also waited throughout the day to make sure I was okay, then gave Deirdra a ride to get the things we needed for an overnight hospital stay.  He was a real hero.

It turned out that it badly lacerated the flesh of my shin, did some minor damage to a tendon, but no harm to the bone.  At the hospital they gave me a tetanus shot, antibiotics, painkillers, x-rays, and eventually put me under so they could clean out the wound and piece me back together.  I spent the night and got released this morning with a keen pair of crutches and a nifty mug.  I go back in a week so the doc can see how I’m healing and what needs doing next.  It looks like I’ll be okay, in time.  The doctors were very reassuring.  I’ll probably be taking a few days off work to recuperate, but I’ll be online here and there.

I wanna thank Billy, Marg, John, Ashley, Michael, Sifu, Katie, and all the countless people who called, wrote, and offered to help.  You guys are awesome.  Most of all, I want to thank my wife.  She made sure the doctors and nurses did their jobs, went to get me food when I was starving, sat up with me when I couldn’t sleep and needed painkillers, and generally made herself sick with worry and caregiving.  She puts up with my stubbornness and without her, I’d be…well, I’d really rather not contemplate it.  She hasn’t yet beat me up for getting myself hurt.  I think that says it all.

My wish for each and every one of you: May you never have to see the bones of someone you love.

Jun 3

Improvements

I know Mister Jack Jackity Jack Jack Attack (once and future) Fattycat is feeling a bit more like himself: he managed to jump from the kitchen floor to the countertop, and was thoroughly scouring the last place he saw me with cheese.

We sat together and watched Obama make his “Presumptive Nominee” speech in MN, and my old man purred loudly.  It doesn’t surprise me: as a personable skinny Tuxedo cat with big ears and a funny name, they have a more than a bit in common.

Jun 1

Three

“The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.”

- Rainer Maria Rilke

 

I wrote this more than two months before it was “due,” but it required some editing after this weekend.

 

It’s been three years since we were married, and about six since we started dating, or whatever it was we thought we were doing.  I have a husband who is often quite introspective, and often distractedly hyper-focused, but loves hugely. I am so full-heartedly grateful to have this wonderful partner, who grows with me and respects the things that nourish me.  I am so glad to have this man who keeps my crazy at bay with all of his reason, sensibility and compassion. I am so darned lucky to have someone who can make me laugh embarrassingly loudly at semi-inappropriate times; because one day when I am ancient and do not care at all what people think, I will still be laughing. I am so lucky to have a partner who has wholeheartedly embraced the furry clan I brought into our marriage, and doubly lucky to have married someone willing to medicate such a fearsome, toothsome beast as old man Jack (The Anniversary Miracle!)

You’re an inspiring, brilliant, thoughtful and loving man, and you make me strive to be a better person.

Happy Anniversary, one day late.

 

 

 

May 31

Jack Update

They were amazed to find him very stable, bright-eyed, grumpy and hungry this morning.

He goes back in for an EKG on Tuesday, he’s on diuretics and human hypertension meds, he’s shaved in two patches, but they let us bring him home.  He even has a very chic black wristband.

Keep him as stress-free as possible, they said.  Meanwhile, there are several men using nail guns and slamming things on top of our roof, sending our dogs into a frenzy. The roofers have already murdered my Blue Girl rose (Oh, Prince!  How will Appolonia thrive without you!?) and if they continue to slam things into our rooftop, it feels like a window could break.

If we didn’t NEEEEEEEEEEEED a roof, ZOMG liek NOWS, I would send them home.  They stress ME out.

And now, I go and pet Mister Cookie Paws.

May 30

Thoughts

Our distinguished gentleman, Mister Jack, is in bad shape.

To make a long story short, I noticed his breathing was rapid and shallow and erratic, and we took him to the vet immediately, which was a very good thing. They immediately put him on oxygen, drew a shitload of fluid from his lungs, and generally are trying to stabilize him.

It could be congestive heart failure. It could be fluid buildup from lymphoma or something at least as terrible. They had him in the swanky brushed steel and glass oxygen suite, so we couldn’t even pet him goodnight. That might’ve been a good thing, though, because he was surly and stink-eyed despite all infirmity.

All in all, it’s 90% pretty awful, and there’s not a great deal of hope of doing anything more than making him comfortable for long enough for him to forgive us.

He’s been with me since 1992, when I smuggled him out of my relatives’ house in my cleavage. He transformed from a fraidy-cat to a pimpin’ party-cat when he came to permanently live with me. He follows people like a dog, eats asparagus and wheatgrass and loves to bitebitebite string. He sometimes likes to walk on the dogs like they’re furniture, just to show them who’s boss. He’s a milk stealing, love/hate-biting, nad-stomping, hairball-horking, skirt-snagging, food-begging, cabinet-ruining, dog-tormenting very stylish babooshka hat prancing pony Houdini Cat, and he’s been with me the entirety of my adult life. I can’t contemplate a world without my Jack.

We go to see him at 8 a.m.

I know he’s sixteen and grumpy, and really miserable right now. I hope he has more good times left in him, but if he doesn’t make it, I hope he knows how many people love him, even though he’s a cantankerous, eight-toothed, quack-meowing, cookie-pawed coot.

May 22

Migratory Nest Returns to Jackson

The coolest thing just happened.

Erica text messaged me to say that a friend of hers had come into the tattoo shop, and was wearing a bird’s nest necklace. E. asked if it was one of mine, and the girl said she didn’t know who this Deirdra person was, but EVERYONE asks her that. She tells me what it looks like (goldy-bronze with weirdish pearls), but Oh! Her friend got it in North Carolina.

The Sun and The MoonI check my records, and realize I’ve actually made a nest of that description and sent it to North Carolina.

I fire back, asking if she knows a woman named H. I made two nests for her, each going to women she loved wholeheartedly.

Bingo! The nest on the left went to the woman who is now H’s roommate.

So I once made a nest and sent it winging away to North Carolina, and now, it’s come back to roost.

I’d like to take this opportunity to say that this is a rare instance, and purchasing a nest will not force you to move to Mississippi or anything like that.

May 19

FYI

I’m taking a break from feeds, blogs, social networking, etc. until my life is less of an oily, hyper-caffeinated ferret (no offense, Mr. Ham).  I’ll be checking email often because my job warrants it, but less regularly than usual. I still need to write up my yoga stuff, but that’s not really blogging. That’s homework.

Feel free to contact me, though: just be forewarned I might be slow.  Locals take note: phoning/texting me might actually be more reliable than email for once.

May 18

State of the Deirdra

Good Stuff

  • Anusara Immersion: Bhagavad Gita studies, plus Tattvas next time around.
  • Square Foot Garden: commence! I have 21 plots of forthcoming tastiness, including lots of basil, tomatoes, and chili peppers. Basils, tomatoes and chili peppers rule my summery world. I recently purchased some lovely heirloom tomatoes for eating, and I hoarded the seeds. Since I don’t know the varieties, I named them for fun: Rhumba Panties! Tangerine Coinpurse! Sneaky Stoplight!! I have crazy happy Rainbow Lights Chard, spicy Mesclun mix and wintry squash seeds for later. Loving husband wandered endlessly around stores at my whim, and then braved the sun while using power tools. Yay, loving husband!!
  • Friday was fixed on, er, Friday. She has been extraordinarily sweet-natured to us since.
  • Teaching Yoga: I taught my first studio class in a million years last Thursday. I’ve been meaning to post about it thoroughly, but I’m facing the sudden and pressing reality that I am teaching THREE classes in the first week of June. If you were coming to my class, what would you want to do?
  • My sister‘s tenth birthday is in a week. We’re trying to make it pretty special for her. She’ll be spending the summer in Florida, and I hope it’ll be completely awesome.

Bad Stuff

  • Steroid shot for crazy flare. Steroid + weekly immune suppressants = double suck.
  • The dogs fought last Saturday, and Matthew and I were caught in the crossfire. M. got bitten once, and I got two nasty puncture wounds. We went ballistic and tried to cleanse the wounds of the contagion. Matthew’s was great!
  • My left hand swelled up like a balloon. No, seriously. It was so bad that when I was sitting in the doctor’s office, I was quietly chanting Don’t pop… Don’t pop… Don’t pop…
  • Antibiotics that make me delirious and sweaty + Antibiotic Shot + steroid shot + weekly immune suppressants = Ridiculous crazy quadruple suck.
  • Friday has Evil Tail Syndrome.  Seriously.  I wish I was kidding, but for the last few months, at least daily, she freaks out, attacks her tail viciously, screams in pain and does it again.  It’s very disturbing. Anyone else out there with a completely neurotic animal who thinks its tail is out to do them harm?
  • Yoga really sucks when you are having to hold awesome ever-improving alignment without using the two outer left ball mounts/fingers.

Sleep now.