This was all before ADHD would be identified as one of the contributing factors to my inability to focus. So, therefore, I always attributed it to a character flaw that put me in the “failed” column of “What a Perfect Person Should Be.”

Okay, I think I have finally figured it out. I have an overwhelming need to not miss anything. And, by “anything,” I mean “ANYTHING.” This applies to: books, news, movies, television, music, and any other form of information that is out there. This works out perfect for my other quirk, introversion. I can live quite well in a cave with the only external information coming to me in the form of non-personhood. I do pretty well one on one for a limited amount of time, but basically, I am a reclusive misanthrope. Now those of you who know me also know that this seems incongruous. It is not. For, while I am an introvert, I am not shy. At work I can small talk with the best of them while in the back of my head is solitude.

This means that facebook and google+ was made just for me. It fills the need to let me know information of all of those in my personal life. This also includes friends I have never met. It also allows me to “like” a variety of news sources, social sites, and organizations without even having to leave the sanctity of my “cave.” I am not sure where this is heading, but I started this whole thing wanting to turn all of you on to how books affect my life. (See photo!) And how, on my day off I am brought to tears while watching the National Book Award show on C-span.

While the dishes go undone, the laundry unwashed, the dishes sitting in the sink, I am watching this amazing acceptance speech from Nikky Finney. Watch her acceptance speech at Nikky Finney’s 2011 National Book Award in Poetry acceptance speech. I was sobbing by the end. So, screw Aunt Bea, I am a lazy, good-for-nothing slackard heading to hell in a handbasket. But, I sure know a lot across a broad spectrum of the useless information which would be a great thing if I were on Jeopardy, but really means that my house is a mess and I am happy.

Ha Jin re-creates the terror, the harrowing deprivations, and the menace of unexpected violence that defined life in Nanjing during the occupation. I have read Waiting by the same author and found it to be a subtle and moving understatement of life’s expectations. This is not that book, but in its own way shows the same underpinnings of human nature.

Haven’t started this one yet, but it will provide a respite from Waiting. More on this one later. I haven’t read the previous book by this author, but I admit I was drawn in by the title. We’ll see.

The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb.  Melanie Benjamin

Both of these titles are checked out from the library on my nook. At least I don’t have to find a place to stack them. (See previous post.)

I am absolutely certain that the number of broken bones I have incurred, the cuts, the falls, the clumsiness can be attributed to the ADHD. While my career as a ballerina was in no way affected since it was never a goal, I can see why so many things in my life happened the way they did. Crazy parental behavior played a part in it, also. By the time high school graduation arrived I had lived in no fewer than four states, twelve cities and, at a minimum, fifteen houses, apartments, and hovels. This does not include the few empty houses my mother broke into so we wouldn’t sleep in an alley somewhere.

All of this has led to a strange affliction of self doubt, feelings of total insecurity and an absolute tendency to say whatever is on my mind at the most inopportune moments. It has also created an individual that has survived much of with a wicked sense of humor, a cornucopia of useless knowledge and a level of guilt that I am now totally willing to pass on to some void in the sky.

Meanwhile, the pile of books sets untouched, the clothes are easier to get to and I have to go now and do something that doesn’t require me to sit still for more that 10 minute.

This particular letter is being sent to : Gordon Beckham and DSean Jackson.

Dear ——

I am taking this time to write to you about your recent homophobic remarks. Unfortunately, this is occurring far too often with the athletes that the youth of the United States admire. I am certain that if you look around your family, your friends, and your teammates you will find a gay or Lesbian person there. As certain as I am that there is at least one such person there, I am also certain that you would never want hateful slurs to be directed to them.

In view of these facts, I am hoping that in the future you will only make positive statements when referring to this segment of our society. I don’t think that name calling or bullying was ever anything your mother wanted you to do with your fame. As a mother and a grandmother I am hoping that you would take the time to apologize for these remarks and apologize to your mother and your fans for having used them.

Thank you for your attention to this critical matter. I wish you a long and healthy career and hope that you never suffer from the unkind words of others.

Sincerely,

I moved here from Los Angeles, I knew what pasties were since I had, upon occasion, used them myself. Little did I know that the UP was the producer of such dancing accoutrements.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered they were simply a pocket pie filled with meat and vegetables. I should have known. It turns out that Michigan has more statues of Mary in a Bathtub than any other state in the union.

(By the way, the state motto of Michigan is: “If you want to see a nice peninsula, just look around.” It sounds classier in French.)

Today I thought I was going to go to the grocery store by myself. Ha ha! With my more giant than usual right food, it was going to require some extra special maneuvering. Ha ha! Stretching my right leg over to the passenger side of the car so that I could drive with my left foot. I don’t think there is a yoga pose that would have prepared me for that task. So, it appears that I will have to hunt down a chauffeur for tomorrow’s trip. That will give me time to hone my list into a OCD map for efficiency.

So, what will I do instead. Oh, my side of the bed is still waiting for some tender loving care. Big foot or not, this is a truly daunting task! It requires moving books that I haven’t touched in months but will want to read immediately upon storing them away. I thought my nook color was going to help with this problem. That is why I have over 200 books to read on the nook and have only brought home a limited number of books since then. Limited, my ass! Limited by only the number I can stack and blend into the others to justify my behavior as non-hoarding. Stay tune for the before and after of this exciting project.

I had never been to Valentini’s before and so that was where we headed. On London Road with a nice view of the lake and air conditioned for the one day it hits 80º in our naturally air conditioned city. I had been craving Peppers and Sausage for a while and had, in fact, pulled up a recipe for it online. And there it was, lunch menu, half order, take me away! It was absolutely wonderful. I tried not to sound like Sally in When Harry Met Sally as I fed myself bite after bite of pure heaven. Simply made with sweet Italian sausage, red, green, and yellow peppers, olive oil, garlic, pesto and fresh basil it was the best Italian food I have had since I last ate in the North End of  Boston.

I managed to save some for dinner tonight since Terri had tipped me off to the deserts. A beautiful lemon cake topped the meal off perfectly. I had planned on saving some of that, also. While waiting for the check, however, I ended up finishing it off. As I raved to the server how good it all was, she recognized me for what I am, a complete food junkie, and pointed out that Cold Stone Creamery had Lemon Poppy Seed Ice Cream available now.

That was the end of grocery shopping. Recognizing that I was too stuffed to go anywhere that had aisles and that there was sufficient food in the house to make it through until Monday, we hit Cold Stone and headed home. After all I had to clean the refrigerator and figure out food to make it to Monday and plop down and moan about how I ate too much.  Really, I can’t recommend this place enough!

Be careful what you ask for or just be a bit more specific!

What a exciting week for My Right Foot I (hereafter referred to as MRF.) I started Monday off with the first day of my two in a row off. That meant get as much done on Monday as I possible could so that I could spend Tuesday being a slob, also known as lying around, reading, surfing the web, generally doing nothing, in other words. What’s that line?  “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.” Robert Burns jumped up and bit me in the ass.

First part of the day was spent shopping. Oh, joy. Best Buy, SuperOne, Target and finally, Office Max. For all of you that know me, I was ready to explode.  At Office Max smiled and asked, “Are you having a nice day?” Now I work retail, I say all the things I’m supposed to say and at that moment I turned into the worst customer I could ever have. “It’s going to be great once I get home, I am suffering from retail overload and am ready to explode from exposure to flourescent lights.” Charming, I’m sure. He stumbled through the rest of the transaction and I heard a visible sigh of relief as the doors closed behind me.

Home again, home again jiggity jig. That always runs through my mind as I pull into the driveway, pop the van open, unload the groceries and start on the in home chores. In the middle of putting the groceries away, I decided to do a load of laundry so that I would be doing two things at once. Oh, and as long as I was in the basement I could clean the catbox. Joy, oh, joy. Karma for rudeness I realized. I grabbed the trash bags and headed down the stairs. Okay, I started down the stairs at a full rush. Eager to clean that cat box? No, not really, just fast is the only speed I know.

Wait, I also know STOP. And I came to a full one when my left foot went out from under me and my right foot bent a full 180° in the WRONG direction. I tried to “cow-person up” and hobbled over to the cat box and immediately knew that changing it wasn’t an option. So, I threw in a load of laundry, limped upstairs, then looked at my foot and went, oops, maybe I should get this x-rayed. Yep, it’s broke and it sure has slowed me down. As in “immobilized” me. So, here I am, sharing the news and letting you know that I have heard that lemon bars help heal bones, oh, and white chocolate raspberry cheese cake, and I don’t want to forget the ever healing properties of chocolate.

ADDENDUM: FOR THOSE CONCERNED WITH MY SHOPPING AT TARGET: I ONLY SHOP THERE WHEN THEY HAVE WHAT IS CALLED A “LOSS LEADER.” THAT IS SOMETHING THAT THEY SELL FOR LESS THAN WHAT THEY PAID FOR IT AND USE IT TO LURE PEOPLE INTO THE STORE TO SPEND EXTRA $$$ ON IMPULSE. I ONLY PURCHASE THE LOSS LEADER, THEREBY COSTING THEM MONEY AND USE MY DEBIT CARD TO PAY SO THEY HAVE TO ALSO PAY THE FEES. I FEEL BETTER NOW!

“It is better to pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than to fade and wither dismally with age.” – James Joyce

Where the hell did the old 24 hours a day go. Approaching 65 (quickly) hours have been compressed into half hours or extended into four hours. Examples: At work 8 hours=32 hours. At home 16 hours=8 hours. Oh, and the need for sleep has increased which cuts further into that eight hours I thought I had to cook, read, do laundry, sleep, watch meaningless tv and carry on a meaningful conversation with the man who adores me.

This aging thing is really is beginning to suck big time. We are all told about the obvious things that happen. Dropping body parts, drying skin, aching joints and on and on and on. But there are the things they forgot to mention. Shrinking bladder means not a full night’s sleep and if I make it another ten years I may have to invent a toilet bed, oh, wait, that’s a “home” isn’t it.

And what’s with this “liver spot” thing? You can play connect the dots on the back of my hands and I’m sure they are in the places on my body where I can no longer see. (These places increase hyper-proportionately with the years.) Now, the big news about these little spots is: They also accumulate in your brain! So, that name you were trying to remember in that movie (the name escapes me) is now occupied by a “liver spot.” Oh, joy.

Did I mention that the fat proportion in your body weight increases? So, who knew? My ass, that’s who. Our nerves start to deteriorate, oh, that doesn’t matter, you can’t see that so it doesn’t count. And if you hide 99% of the rest of your body none of it matters. That is until you realize you are now a lizard and your skin sheds nightly and you spend more on moisturizer than the country is spending on wars. (Oops, got a little political there.)

The ability to concentrate diminishes. Tie that with ADD and the next thing you know, well, you don’t know, that’s the problem. Ability to read more than half an hour at a time. Gone… Ability to remember becomes replaced with, “Huh? what was I saying?” Ability to multi-task drops to ability to walk from one room to the other and know why. Sometimes.

Where I am going with all of this? I forgot. Oh, yeah, I really want to do something…I just can’t decide. Read, yeah, that was it. Now where did I put my Nook?