Don’t you see what’s happened? I’ve become George!

The gym got new treadmills, and they’re fabulous.  I didn’t know the old treadmills sucked until I ran on a new one.  The deck is so wide and smooth, it felt like running in grass.  I listened to In Your Dreams by Stevie Nicks in order twice through.  I ripped it from the CD into FLAC files and loaded it on the DAP I got on MassDrop.  I listen to an album with various headphones and amps because it reveals details I miss otherwise.  (I take my music listening seriously.)  When I finished, I was all disoriented like I just woke up.  I’ve been smiling since.

I saw previews for The Dark Tower movie today.  It’s the first I’ve heard of it, and I’m ecstatic.  I want to see a lobstrosity, and all the other creatures described.  Especially Shardik.  I remember reading that in 8th grade.  It’s a good thing I finally watched TV today.  (I abandoned it in favor of Stevie Nicks, and Fleetwood Mac live concert DVD’s weeks ago.)  Now that I’ve seen Mick Fleetwood play Dreams, I’m copying his technique.  He makes the drums sound like a thunderstorm in this song, and it’s so good.

M. wants me to meet his parents.  They’re coming in August and will return home with his sister.  Naturally, I’ve decided to start feeling anxious now.  Sigh.  My virtual presence device project is at a frustrating point.  Basically, hiring a college student to carry a video rig is the most logical and cost effective solution so far.  It solves the problem of theft, vandalism, teasing, etc.  Not to mention transportation, and all the other logistical bummers I’ve encountered so far.  I was hoping for a robot, but it’s not looking good.  Ah, well.  Maybe I can find a college kid who talks about robots while being my virtual presence device.  I’m off to read.

She’s a bitter, unstable person. I need more.

Welp.  I got my Fleetwood Mac Rumours CD.  While listening intently, I had to laugh at my misinterpretations of the lyrics.  What I thought I heard while laying in bed as a kid is so much different than the actual words.  The songs make a lot more sense, now.  (My versions included a lot more humming than the originals, too.)  I like the album art.

After listening to it over and over again, in order, I played along on my drums.  Then I went on YouTube to watch some live footage.  I got sidetracked.  I know now it was inevitable.  I saw Stevie Nicks performing Rhiannon.  (The whole band was there, of course.)  I put my study of Fleetwood Mac’s history on hold and searched for Stevie Nicks.

I almost lived my entire life on earth without knowing about Stevie Nicks!  Tragedy averted.  I will admit, there were a few moments when I resented everyone I’ve ever known for not taking a few seconds out of their busy lives to inform me Stevie Nicks exists.  (My inner 5-year-old is still pouting in the corner.)  I know.  How the hell did I not know?  So I got over myself, and all is forgiven.

I wasn’t allowed to listen to popular music as a kid.  I used to sing while my sister played piano at her recitals.  It was the only exception.  So at least I know about Barry Manilow.  I was called the Human Tape Recorder growing up.  Most of what I heard and repeated was without comprehension, which I suspect made it worse.  My parents were strict about what I was exposed to, for obvious reasons.

I do remember an incident where I sang a song my sister taught me from Jesus Christ Superstar.  Apparently, it was controversial or something.  I was too young to notice (or care.)  In a way, I’m glad I’m just discovering Stevie Nicks.  It’s exciting.  I listened to her in a few interviews on YouTube at various times in her career.  She’s brilliant.  (No Mariah Carey Syndrome.)  That’s the point where I became a Stevie Nicks fan.  I love her voice.  She’s beautiful and fascinating.  I feel like I won the jackpot and my face hurts from smiling so much.  It’s been a joyful day.  I’m off to read.

Mile 114, clean as a whistle!

Today was unnecessarily dramatic.  I hate when that happens.  Fortunately, it was someone else’s drama.  I recovered quickly.  My body took a few hours to get the message, but I spent much of that time on my drums.  I’m still addicted to Rumours by Fleetwood Mac.  I used to hear these songs when I was laying in bed pretending to sleep as a kid.  My older siblings played music often, and it’s always been a big part of my life.  I have an incredible memory for music.  I can remember my location and how I felt when I last heard a song.  I remember the first song I learned when I was four.  Music is almost always playing in my head.  Every song I’ve ever heard is in there, waiting to be queued up when triggered.

My ideal learning method is through music.  Even if the lesson is beyond my comprehension at the time, it’s stored away and recalled when more information is acquired.  Many of us learned the alphabet through song.  I was taught through songs on Sesame Street.  When growing up, my siblings, nieces, and nephews and I would invent songs to amuse ourselves.  The last time, I remember we made a song called Yahoo Jen.  It was a cautionary tale about online hookups, based on an experience my nephew will never live down.  I laughed so hard that night.  It’s probably obvious, but I’ll go ahead and admit it.

Hi.  I’m Alison, and I’m a spontaneous singer.  I don’t sing loudly, so it’s easy to ignore.  I love every person who has ever caught me singing and decided to join in.  Remember that episode on Rosanne when DJ brings home a spontaneous singing frenemy, (remember who played his mom?)  Like that, only I don’t deny it.  I think it’s mostly unconscious.  I think music leaks out because I have so much inside me, and I refuse to let any of it go.  I’m off to read.

You don’t just write a ‘Murphy Brown’.

Today has been awesome.  Early this morning, while continuing my rinse/spit routine and watching Teen Titans, the pain began to gradually ease.  That’s the last thing I remember.  I’m pretty sure my long blinks became sleep the moment I was freed from my disgusting ritual.  I awoke to a ringing phone at around 9AM.  It was a nurse from the VA, informing me that my primary care doctor got my note, and was sending me 4 oxycontin pills to give me some relief before my appointment on Wednesday.  I was expecting the call, and it was a pleasant start to my day.  Then I realized I wasn’t in pain.  None at all.

I got up, made my bed, and started my morning routine.  Every few moments, I remember the pain is gone, and celebrate all over again.  Usually by marvelling at how the universe is so incredible.  I’m pretty sure this is how atheists and agnostics pray.  (Well, aside from the thousands of times a year we agnostics of the indoctrinated christian ilk thank a god we’re not certain we believe exists, within the privacy of our minds.)  Heh. I’ve noticed some of the things I’ve learned today.  I love when that happens. Perspective and relativity are continuing to boggle my mind on a near daily basis.  My perspective on pain has shifted, now that I know my ability to cope is relative to my perspective.  I’m no longer afraid of pain.  Such a beautiful circle.

I also love how my dialect suddenly changes to gangsta rap when I’m feeling goofy, sometimes.  It’s STIMAPALOOSA up in this bitch, ya’ll!  (It’s especially funny to me, because I’m pretty sure I get it so wrong, it changes my intended meaning.)  I’ll translate:  I’m so happy, excited, relieved, astonished, surprised, and hyper in my apartment right now, everyone!!!  I’m going to brag, (I think).  I’m so proud of myself for managing to stop whining long enough to learn what my pain had to teach me.  /brag

I’m also proud of scientists for vastly improving my odds of surviving, (and I’d like to retract all the bad things I thought in your regard, for not having already invented a pain elimination transdermal patch that can be conveniently printed and applied with my iPMC, (Pocket Matter Converter by Apple).  I realize it’s a bit much to expect at this point, and I’m sorry I was so quick to minimize your superpowers).  Okay, I see that I’m getting carried away with the parenthesis.  I’ll stop.  You’re welcome.

I also figured out what’s been hurting.  I say hurting, but I don’t necessarily mean pain.  I mean a background distraction that’s too blurry to zoom in on.  I know it’s there, so it’s robbing part of my attention without my permission, until I identify it.  It’s a lot like being nagged by someone with an annoying voice.  You want to block it out on principle, but you half listen out of habit.  My tolerance for this type of hurting is low.  In fact, it seems to be a direct consequence of passing for neurotypical.  I’ll have to think about that more.  In some ways, I can see how therapy is resulting in my being more aware.  So much of living with mental illness is exactly like playing chicken with yourself.  It’s not for the faint-of-heart, which is ironic, because we seem to be the most susceptible to conditions like PTSD.  It’s like a really shitty, hopefully self-correcting ailment, being faint-of-heart.  That’s hilarious.

You’re faint of heart, so you get a brand new case of PTSD, along with some lovely parting neurosis!  If you’re paying attention, you’ll figure out a way to outgrow it, but not for at least a decade!  During which time, those many lucky contestants who are also susceptible to substance abuse, will be allowed to add the beloved game of Russian Roulette to the mix!

I’m a wee bit cynical.  Consequences:  That math that many do, but but few want to talk about.  I suppose it’s my religion.  I worship with music.  It’s been absent from my life of late.  I’m no longer playing violin with a group of locals, now that summer is over.  Being unwell has prevented me from running.  That’s a spiritual activity for me, and it always includes music.  I run to music.  I put lots of thought into my running playlist, and I change it once a month.  I choose powerful music.  The type you absolutely cannot remain still while hearing.  When I decided to celebrate being pain free, the first thing I did was ask Alexa to play Kelly Clarkson.

First, she played a song I haven’t heard in awhile, and I sang along while stimming.  Then she played, Stronger.   I smiled, and immediately knew I found the itch.  I finally figured out what was hurting.  I’m off to rip my new CD’s to .FLAC files.  I have a new direct-from-Korea DAP.  A friend recommended the following when I asked for ideas for new music:

  • Jimmy Giuffre/Jim Hall Trio:  Complete Studio Recordings
  • Joni Mitchell – Blue
  • The Essential Van Morrison
  • Pentangle – Light Flight, The Anthology
  • Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Dallas Taylor & Greg Reeves – Déjà vu