Posts Tagged ‘stick figures’

Good Intentions

Friday, April 23rd, 2010

Hey, you know how you set an alarm clock, and then in the morning it makes this annoying “beep beep beep” noise?  …That’s really under-appreciated feature.

In my normal life, I set two alarm clocks.  One that plugs in, and another that runs on batteries (in case there was a power outage overnight).  Because I am hyper-conscientious that way.  Lately it has mostly been my husband who has somewhere to be in the mornings, and he has somewhat flexible work hours, so we haven’t had to worry so much about what would happen in the case of alarm clock failure.  This morning, I was the one with an early appointment, so before we went to sleep I wanted to confirm that everything was in order.

“Did you set the alarm clock?”


“Did you set two?”

“The one that plugs in is broken, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

At which point, I immediately start down my normal path of uber-responsible thought, and think to myself that I should probably get out of bed and go down to the basement and see if I can find another alarm, in case something happens to go wrong with the one that we’re using tonight.  But I am learning.  I realize almost immediately how paranoid that seems, and in the spirit of letting things go and trying to be more easygoing about things, I give myself some quick mental reassurance that there is no reason that the alarm would choose this night to malfunction after working perfectly every other.

She can be taught!  Call the papers.

And lo and behold, the alarm goes off as expected this morning.  It beeps, and we snooze it, and it beeps and we snooze it.  …And then I wake up and look at my watch.  And I turn sharply to the alarm clock to compare.  And the alarm is flashing its “Zzzzz” like it does when it’s emitting noise.  Except it is not emitting noise.  Not a beep.  Not a peep.  Not a small alarm whimper.

It is about a 40 minute trip to my psychiatrist’s office.  It is currently five minutes before my appointment.  Images of the “here is my huge cancellation fee, okay?” form that I had to sign at my first appointment flash through my mind.

At this point, the conversation goes something like as follows:

Me:  Fuck!

Fuck, fuck, fuck!


(I may be paraphrasing.  …It may have been the second fuck in all caps.)

The fucking (the non-fun, non-athletic kind) continued for at least a good fifteen minutes, I think.  Swear, desperately search for solution, swear, desperately search for solution.  The stress of the whole process left me feeling like I wasn’t sure that I could bring myself to drive forty minutes only to walk in with ten minutes left in my appointment time, have them ask me why I bothered (and of course, in my head, also sneer at me in judgment.  Ignorant, irresponsible girl, missing her appointment like that.  Only whores and kitten-killers miss appointments.), and then drive all the way home again.  Or almost worse, have him let me in, have to sit there abashed while I ask him if he will fill out these tax credit forms for me with the remaining time, and then leave.  Eventually I decided to search online to see if I could find the phone number for the receptionist in the department I was looking for (my psychiatrist himself never lets his phone ring – it goes straight to voicemail).  I had to get my husband to make the call.  I am not proud of that.

We were told that he “didn’t want to see me” so I should just stay home and may have to soak the missed appointment fee.  No new meds, no tax form.

And I didn’t even get to use my smug smile.

But I have learned that I can be taught.  I can be taught that at least half the time I try to be more relaxed about something, it slaps me across the face.  Next time I plug in the damned second alarm.

I am trying to deal with the whole things with belated grace.  I have much still to be thankful for.  Like having arms longer than the width of my head.

Stick Doing Push-Ups

Stick Doing Push-Ups


Wednesday, April 14th, 2010

Not feeling entirely normal this morning, but since I got around 3 or 4 hours of sleep last night, that’s probably not much of a mystery.  I watched the sun rise outside my bedroom window.  Then I finally got a bit of rest.  I am completely unable to fall asleep when something emotional is unresolved within me.  My husband can do this easily, and I have no idea how he can do it.  He has no idea how I can remain awake.  I am not sure that I got the better end of this deal.

It was cute, though.  He was trying to be comforting last night and then fell asleep, but he stayed in contact all night long.  I would roll over, and his arm would reach out to gently rest around me again.  I would shift position and he would try to grasp my armpit.  I would wiggle and he would grab hold of the side of my face.  Nice romantic stuff like that.

At any rate, I sat down to write a legitimate post today, but instead I ended up with these.

See how normal?  Very.

Normal Stick

Rubenesque, isn't it?

Overweight Stick

Pirate Stick

Pirate Stick

Plastic Surgery Stick

Plastic Surgery Stick

Porn Star Stick

Porn Star Stick

Stick With Cats For Arms

Stick With Cats For Arms

I may need help.


Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

It is super cool having new visitors stop by here.  That is a side effect of sending those cartoons that I totally wasn’t thinking of at the time, but it’s nice.  …You see how I made a point of saying that there?  Because I realized at some point today that people might assume I was trolling for traffic.  And I worry about things like that (because heaven forbid that someone I’ve never met should temporarily have a mistaken impression of me.  I also dislike Rod Stewart, cram my freezer full of crap I’ll never eat again, and have a thing for goats.  Because they’re wily.  In case that helps to clear anything up.).  Anyway, there were no ulterior motives.  My brain just grabs onto things and runs with them in strange ways sometimes.   Which is probably better for my popularity than if it was the rest of my body grabbing things and running with them in strange ways.

And since I try very much to be sincere here, I will also mention that I do get a bit of a crazy high from feeling socially validated in even small ways.  …Probably more than I should (Shhhhh…don’t tell the new people!).   I think I may also get smarter.

My little burst of energy has made it a bit more difficult to keep myself from overworking, though.  Remember how I had mentioned that having been so low previously, I was having difficulty keeping a reasonably accurate relative scale for how I’m doing now and what I should be expecting from myself?  Yup.  Still am.

At the beginning of the week, I was hopeful that maybe, possibly, I could try to accomplish some task during a day (one whole thing – wouldn’t that be nifty cool!).  Yesterday, I scheduled car maintenance, had my tires changed, researched mosquito repellants, read a chapter in my self-help book, purchased new furnace filters and miscellaneous hardware supplies, purchased ant and mosquito killing supplies, purchased tea tree and citronella oils, got groceries, implemented the anty death, did the household laundry, phoned my doctor, rescheduled a massage appointment, spoke with my mom, mixed up a batch of essential oil bug repellant based on the morning’s research, made dinner, and probably did at least a few other work tasks that I’m not thinking of right now.  And I was about to do a bunch of putting things away when I was forced to pause.

But we needed the mosquito repellant, see, because we finally got some cheapy patio furniture for our back yard, and we had these grand visions of us eating dinner out there, carefree and laughing, with a steak knife in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, talking about the high points of our day, and maybe politics or philosophy, as the warm spring breeze kissed our hair, and the subtle scent of flowers wafted by.  Except that a couple of evenings ago, when we were out there around dinner time putting the stuff together, we discovered a tiny, itchy, West-Nile-carrying flaw in our dramatic plans.  Important, right?

My husband had to tell me firmly last night that I should not do anything work-related for at least the next couple of days.  No mail, no paperwork, no phone calls, no errands, no shopping, no laundry, no cleaning, no organizing, no work of any kind.  I can see his point.  I’ve been feeling almost able to get things done lately, so I’ve been naturally falling back into go-go-go mode, and getting guilty twinges when I pause to do anything unproductive.  A lot of the time, I live in a state of chipmunk-on-crack activity.  That is a lot of my problem, though.  I need to learn to balance, and to moderate, and not to push myself too hard too fast.  This seems so obvious looking in on the situation that it’s laughable.  In my head, though, woo-boy, I better get on that laundry or the hubby will think I’m a slacker.  And hello?  I can’t work less than an eight hour day now that I’m off work for medical reasons!  And there are things.  And they need doing.  How can I not do things??  I had to think his proposition through for a moment, as I already really had been (unintentionally) creating potential to-do lists in my head for the next few days.  But I agreed in the end.  No work.

At which point, he promptly told me not to fill that time doing nothing but light therapy, and visualization, and meditation, and yoga, and tai chi, and reading self-help books instead.  Because my baby knows me well.  And I was totally mentally crossing out every administrative item and replacing it with something I feel like I “should” be doing from the getting better list instead.

And I may have ended up just sitting down now, at 6:13pm, for my first focused bout of “relaxation time.”  But I had good excuses, I swear.  Okay, maybe not good ones, but excuses.  Okay, maybe I can’t remember what I did between 3 and 6 today.  But I’m sure it was important.  It’s just so freaking hard to STOP when I think I can manage to GO.

I think I currently only come in the flavours of Burnt Out or Hyperdrive.  All poetically cyclic, I know.

Also, in answering comments on the previous post, I realized that stick people cannot hug and kiss at the same time, nor can they look at each other during sex.  Poor stick people.  That would be sad for them.

Large, bulbous heads are not always as much of an asset as one might initially think.


Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

Hey!  I won a contest!  In addition to a lot of participant ribbons, second prize in a singing competition with two entries (seriously – and my teacher at the time heard the news of my second place finish and was so genuinely happy for me that I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was no one else there), and a kind of shady set of modeling lessons from the mall, I can now add “Importance of Humor” contest winner on (shut up, okay. This is totally more badass than the mall lessons).

If you aren’t already reading, you really should.  She is witty, and entertaining, and sometimes has contests for her readers (Hello??  Contests!).

I am going to say some more now.

Of course, anybody new who pops by here via her site is landing on the Lamest of all Lame Stretches in EmotionalUmbrellaLand, but c’est la vie.  Sometimes I giggle a lot.  Sometimes I want to stab myself (but not really. …kinda).  And in between, I apparently moan about our office ant infestation.  Prime audience-building stuff, that.

At any rate, here is my entry, captured for posterity’s sake.

A Pictorial Treatise on the Uses of Humor

I find humor most useful for its social benefits.  I like humor because…

1) It instantly diffuses potentially awkward situations.

I loves me a good April Fool's joke.  My husband does too.  We so TOTALLY get each other that way.

2) It is a powerful feature in attracting the opposite sex.

She's also diabetic!

3) It always works wonderfully at job interviews.

Sometimes they don't even call me back because they're afraid I will be SO funny that no one will be able to get any work done!

And last but not least,

I like humor because it gives me an excuse to sometimes use Microsoft Paint.  And who couldn’t use more of that?

Actually I do this with alarming frequency.  Seriously.