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Showing posts from November, 2004

Roots 1.0

the causes of depression and anxiety, and for that matter ocd, are not definite. It depends who you ask. Most likely, there is a cluster of causes, and every individual is just that, an individual. But while there may be a genetic component, a chemical component, a behavioral and cognitive component, there is most certainly an emotional element. And upbringing, home environment, trauma and the resulting anxiety/hypersensitivity, these things are clear players in my own struggle. Fact is, it's been a hard month and a half. The whole work/teaching online thing, while it has settled down now (and I have will be able to teach online at least two more years) completely triggered me. It felt all too like the insecurity and parental distance and disapproval I lived with my whole life. After having a couple of really good months, very hopeful months where I was not anxious or even obsessing, my symptoms crept back in as the work thing was unfolding. Now that I feel better about ...

Cheerios and Bananas

A while back I mentioned how S turned me on to cheerios and bananas. Today, by pure chance, I discovered the perfect addition: soy milk. I was out of regular milk, and went with the soy, and oh man. Cheerios, banana slices, and Silk soy milk is heaven my friends. In other news: S got into grad school for psychology; she wants to be a therapist. They told her at interview they were only taking 50 percent of those interviewed, and this is at a CSU (the only place she could go because of where we live). And she got in. I knew she would; she is such a brilliant conversationalist, but you never know with those things. When we found out, we both cried. t

San Fran

I've been working on my Schweitzer response, but it keeps getting longer and I'm unsatisfied with what I have. It is coming, though, for what it's worth. But what I want to talk about now is THE CITY. Saturday when S and I woke up Mikey was out of town (an unusual combo; generally S works when he's gone) and she looked at me and said, 'san francisco.' And I said, 'yeah,' and we went. It took about three hours from my house to Powell, a little over two driving to Walnut Creek (where I was born) and then the rest on BART, through the east bay, oakland, under the water, and then into San Fran proper. Man, what a town. The weather was warmer than we expected, but we caught a cab right away to the Legion of Honor, one of the fine arts museums. I have never been. It's far on the west side of the penninsula; you can see the water from the grounds. They have an impressive Rodin collection, and I saw paintings by Rembrandt (what a master) P...

The Red and the Blue

I admit I haven't read Lakoff's book, Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think , but I heard his interview on npr and found his metaphor one of the most interesting political ideas I've heard. You can hear the complete interview at npr's website here . He's a professor at Berkeley, and that sonorous voice is a little dreamy, but his concepts, his metaphor of the family to understand the world-views of those on the left and the right, is ingenious. Even if you don't buy his description, the questions posed at the beginning of the interview remain. Why do many on the right feel so strongly about gay marriage and abortion, but also often support the death penalty, the use of the american military abroad, and oppose many social programs which are designed to feed and educate? And while I've never raised an infant, Lakoff's thesis reminds me of the Ezzos' On Becoming Babywise . The Ezzos have backed off their original, and rather inf...

The Drive By Truckers and A Penny for the Old Guy

I know, those of you who have heard of this band or will now listen to them will think I've gone off the edge of some rural, barn-dotted horizon. But DBT really aren't country; they're dirt rock, if I can coin a phrase. And I recommend them. I actually got their album, Decoration Day , free in the mail from Steph's BMG club. Free. I didn't play it until one day last summer when I was laying wood in the hallway and grabbed the nearest thing. This album has true poetry. If you have napster, check it out. Buy it if if you're feeling adventurous, and give it a a few spins before you write it off. A very different sensibility. A couple songs, like Gun in the Closet, remind me of moods I find in Robert Frost's poetry, but that's the only thing yankee about this album. Like Social D., like New Bomb Turks or (the ex) Bikini Kill, DBT is an underrated but brilliant band. Next time Brittany's latest hit causes you to choke on bubble gum, try som...

The Day After

The election is over, you that know me know I am disappointed, both in Bush's victory and in my country. I realize that last is harsh, and I know some of you must have voted for Bush, the two friends we have up here our age are ardent supporters of Bush, but that's how I feel. History will speak in future decades and tell me whether I am right or wrong. God will speak to each of us, and that will be the only enforced final word. Blessed are the peacemakers I don't even want to go into why I dislike Bush's administration so much, or challenge the christian right that had so much to do with electing him. Or talk about Iraq. Or the evangelical view of homosexuality. The one bright side I see is I'll have another healthy tax return; hopefully I'll consider doing something with that money to alleviate the suffering of others. Probably I'll buy a laptop and furniture for my house. Certainly my stock market pittance is going up today. So what do ...

Halloween Epilogue

After reading Sheri's halloween post here and her Montana-loving post here I am humbled. She has taken to the new culture so quickly. I know I'd go into shock singing clementine with cowboys I knew I now lived with; I don't even have any snap-button shirts. I have a hard time where I am, in a little closet of mountain culture, less than an hour from a fairly large city, less than three hours from S.F., one of the greatest cities in the world. Why? Why has the culture up here been hard for me, for us? I don't know, but it's something I want to think about. Sheri and Andy are doing so well under the Big Sky I have to look at my own attitudes, my own lack of faith, my own fear and anger. Not that I don't like the Sierras, but I've been here three and a half years and I still feel isolated. A couple we know, really the only couple our age we hang out with, had a halloween party two nights ago (S and I went as Kerry cheerleaders) and we ended up at ...