Help with buying a new Kindle, please?

I'm looking at getting a Kindle. I already own many Kindle books which I now have on my free version of Kindle for iPhone.
The new Kindle with Special Offers--henceforth referred to as KwSO to save typing--is only $114 dollars and is supported by ads at the bottom of the screen. It appears that the only difference between it and the regular new Kindle (for $139) is the ads, but with the cheaper one you get-wait for it--special offers (some decent sounding money savers which I would almost definitely use). Neither of these have 3G wireless, but with the wi-fi, I wouldn't much care. I'm not one to buy on the run when it comes to books, as it were.
For $189, the Kindle 3G + WiFi offers an extra 2/10 of and ounce in weight and a shorter battery life. Um, what? Okay, it also offers free 3G wireless with "global wireless coverage" in 100 countries and territories. (Is that really "global?" Anywho...) Since I don't "buy on the fly," as I mentioned, and the KwSO holds 3,500 books (the same as all of the other versions) this seems unnecessary. Am I missing any functionality that warrants paying the extra $50 to have the 3G other than the "need" to access more than 3,500 books on the go?
Lastly, there's the $379 Kindle DX. The extra $190 gets you a larger screen (which also means 10.2 ounces heavier and 5/100 of an inch thicker), an all around shorter battery life (wireless on or off), automatic screen rotation rather than manual for, I guess, the super-lazy, and... well, that seems to be it. Is the $190 worth, basically, just a larger page? (Especially when that means it will take up more packing space and also weighs in at over a pound, which seems a bit sucky for arthritic wrists such as mine...) Not to me, especially since I am currently unemployed and about to embark on an expensive journey to my undergrad degree.
So. The choice is KwSO for $114, Kindle WiFi for $139 or the Kindle 3G for $189 (currently being offered with a $25 gift certificate).
Have I missed any features?
If you were me, which would you buy?
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UPDATE in repsonse to a question:
There is internet browsing ability on both the wifi and the 3G + wifi versions. So internet browisng on the go for the extra $50, yes. But I have an iPhone on which I do that now and it would be with me anyway.
From Amazon: "Special offers and sponsored screensavers display on the Kindle screensaver and on the bottom of the home screen—they don't interrupt reading. "

more blahg blergh

I just really haven't had much of import to say lately. I still don't, but in the interest of cheering myself a bit and keeping this blog active, following is a list of things which make me happy. [Note: This list is just "stuff" and does not include important things like friends and family... It's just "stuff."]
1) that shade of orange which you normally see in Shinto shrines
2) mashed potatoes with sauerkraut
3) finding a package of free books on my doorstep
4) an email in my inbox which is an actual letter to me
5) Cincinnati chili 5-ways
6) scarlet and crimson
7) a great song I totally forgot about coming on the jukebox or radio
8) finding a new beer which I really, truly love
9) clean sheets on the bed right after a long, hot bath
10) a long, hot bath
11) sandalwood, patchouli and peppermint scented anything
12) my fantastic collection of sophisticated perfumes
13) getting jewelry as a gift because it is totally useless and makes me feel girly
14) when the sun comes through the clouds in actual streams
15) First Aid Beauty Ultra Repair Cream
16) Angostura bitters
17) my beautiful and well-stocked bar
18) SIGG bottles
19) Nate's Aunt Sue's totally unhealthy fruit salad
20) my collection of collections
21) my Prius Betty Blue
22) peonies
23) Dark Chocolate truffles by Godiva (the ones dusted with cocoa powder)
24) my beautiful and oh-so-fucking-comfy bed
25) MAC lippie

Cribbed: Ode to baths from The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

Passage from The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
The mirror over my bureau seemed slightly warped and much too silver. The face in it looked like the reflection in a ball of dentist’s mercury. I thought of crawling in between the bed sheets and trying to sleep, but that appealed to me about as much as stuffing a dirty, scrawled-over letter into a fresh, clean envelope. I decided to take a hot bath.

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them. Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die, or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: “I’ll go take a hot bath.”

I meditate in the bath. The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water’s up to your neck.

I remember the ceiling over every bathtub I’ve stretched out in. I remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. I remember the tubs, too: the antique griffin-legged tubs, and the modern coffin-shaped tubs, and the fancy pink marble tubs overlooking indoor lily ponds, and I remember the shapes and sizes of the water taps and the different sorts of soap holders.

I never feel so much myself as when I’m in a hot bath.

I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near onto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don’t believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.

I said to myself: “Doreen is dissolving, Lenny Shepherd is dissolving, Frankie is dissolving, New York is dissolving, they are all dissolving away and none of them matter any more. I don’t know them, I have never known them and I am very pure. All that liquor and those sticky kisses I saw and the dirt that settled on my skin on the way back is turning into something pure.”

The longer I lay there in the clear hot water the purer I felt, and when I stepped out at last and wrapped myself in one of the big, soft white hotel bath towels I felt pure and sweet as a new baby.

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If you can read that passage and not get me, then you probably never will.--Kayly

I'll be honest.

Things I don't like:

1. People who call themselves artists who never create anything.
2. The use of words like "exquisite" and "gambolling" in casual conversation. Unless I say them.
3. People who don't recognize that there is an art to cussing and artists should be left alone to create.
4. The use of phrases like "harsh beauty" in Facebook comments or tweets. But only if written in a very self -aware "aren't I a super wunnerful writer" sort of way.
5. The rest of the artichoke.
6. Early '80s furniture in almost any style.
7. When people drum their fingernails.
8. People who get food or other undesirable stains on library books.
9. When someone says they don't like pickles but don't specify what sort of thing has been pickled and in what particular way.
10. Self-sealing envelopes. Because where's the fun in that?

Things I like:

1. Hotels with a variety of pillows.
2. Cotton
3. Harvard beets
4. Cussing
5. The smell of an old paperback that hasn't been opened in years.
6. Clear, waterproof band-aids.
7. Drumming my fingernails.
8. Paperclips
9. The harsh beauty of people exquisitely gambolling.
10. Finally getting that itch in me ear scratched but good.

Speed Round

Smartfood Popcorn is so good that I tend to forget how bad popcorn is for my teeth and gums and digestive system until it is much, much too late.

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Terry Jones's church did not burn the Quran on Saturday. But somewhere some people did. Luckily, it did not receive the same media attention the whole Jones debacle did, because giving those zealots attention is giving them exactly what they want.

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Andy Rooney Breakdown:
Why do companies send you paper catalogs when you order something from their website?

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Don't tell my husband I am admitting this, but I am finally aware that I am a magazine hoarder. Well, not in the technical sense of the term, because eventually, once they've been read, they will be recycled. I have such a love for "traditional media" that I accept all free and super discounted subscriptions which come my way. But since I am also a book hoarder--well, technically, book "saver"-- and a library addict--um, lover--it makes it quite difficult to keep up with all of my reading. Okay, wait. I'm not a hoarder at all. I'm just slow. Yeah, I'm going to go with that for now.

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Am I crazy, or does Raising Hope look kind of good? I love Shannon Woodward from the dearly departed The Riches, so I'll at least give the pilot a spin. And much, much love for Martha Plimpton and Cloris Leachman, of course. (I refuse to hotlink them. If you don't know who they are, you might be beyond the help of a hotlink.)

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Colbert's Dr. Strangelove turn tonight was beautiful. Try to catch the reruns tomorrow if you missed it tonight.

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DING! Time's up!

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UPDATE: I noticed I forgot to make "Jones" possessive, so I actually had to go look up the singular possessive form of Jones. If that does not make me feel like a dingbat, I do not know what would.

Word Geek Sadness

I have heard that the new edition of the Oxford English Dictionary may be published only online for paid members.
Only a few of my readers will understand the sadness this brings me, but I will try to explain it.
When I was little my Ma and The Sperm Donor owned the Unabridged OED. (I believe it might have been the student edition, which is less well-made and cheaper to buy.) It was a thing of great beauty to behold. Even before I could actually read I loved opening the little drawer at the top, removing the magnifying glass, slipping one of the great, black volumes from it's case and poring over the pages.
Since that time it has been my Book Hoarder's Number One Goal in life to own such a wonderful, mystical, magical book. It's been on my Amazon wish list for years, but, of course, if it were bought as a gift for me it would be the only gift I would receive and my friends and family know I like lots of little gifts much more than one big gift. But I may have to bite the bullet and beg for the volumes before they become rare collector's items for geeks all over the world.
There is this ridiculously expensive version which would make me so proud to see as I walk past my bookcases, but I am drawn instead to this one, a reminder of the awe I felt the first time I encountered a truly magical book.

Short post to get the balling rolling again.

Tiredtiredtired. And I don't have any idea why, but I am constantly sleeping.
MY BFF and her DH had their gorgeous baby boy, Tobin Samuel Sincoff. (I was up there for a few days so that is my excuse for not blogging for a month, lol.)
I'll post the pics I took after I (finally) email them to the proud and happyhappy parents.
Quick news:

• Boys are on Xmas vacay now.
• My quarter is done (finally!) and I have two paid weeks off. (Great to work for a university.)
• My chest x-ray, bloodwork, biopsies, etc etc were all normal. Cuz it's probably all in my head, right? I am going to take BFF's advice and reuqest a pulmonology follow up for asthma (even though my immunologist seemed pretty sure it wasn't, because, ehy, that's not their speciality, right?) if the 24 hour Ph test shows nothing, since that is already scheduled anyway. Since I skipped it once before thinking it wasn't necessary, that is probably the one test for which they'll find something. Because that is my luck. I could have gone and been taken care of months ago, but I think I'm a doctor or something.
• Honestly it is the kind of tired I had with bad depression, but we'll keep that on the back burner until we know there is no physical reason for it. They already upped my anti-depressant (because of increased depression) and anti-anxiolytic (for sleep since they took me off of the sleep aid I had taken forever because we were trying to weed out some drugs that might worsen the dryness I experience orally, ocularly and-um-vaginally). But I'm going to ask about raising the Effexor XR once again, lowering the cloanzepam back to what it was and going back on the Trazodone at a half of the dose I had been on. (I like chemistry, lol!)
• BFF and I will be starting a slightly different sort of mommy blog shortly.
• My holiday shopping is (almost) done, but nothing is wrapped.
• Reading lot when I'm not sleeping.
• My plants are doing well, knock wood.
• I'm Twittering a bit more regularly the past few days to try to get some momentum to post here.
• And I'm thinking of starting a tumblog. Ooops, I did it. No posts, yet.

My Behind is Behind

Yeah, so it's been a while. It's hard for me to feel like posting as my depression is getting worse and there seems to be too much to say to have the energy to explain. Plus, most of the people in my life already know all of this, but here goes: a recap of sorts.
I had sent an email to my rheumatologist regarding the neuropathy that was a paranoid rant about how "maybe I have sarcoidosis or MS??" My rheumy graciously responding without saying, "Hey nutso!! CHILL!" She explained the reasons why I probably don't have either, but we can run a few tests to prove it and she also suggested I should have had the Ph test for reflux that my immunologist had suggested. (They told me that the wheezing and coughing I've been having for a while was not asthma as far as the tests showed ad it may be reflux--even though I don't have the more common symptoms like heartburn or acid burps. I skipped it because the test required wearing a wire up my nose down into my esophagus for 24 hours, said wire being attached to a little computer I wear on my belt monitoring the Ph levels in my esophagus. Since I was convinced it is not reflux, I said "eewwww" and skipped it.) So I called to schedule that.
Then I got a phone call from my primary care doctor's office saying she received the email from my rheumy and wanted to bring me in to discuss some things we could explore. (They never called me for an appointment before, so this freaked me out a little.)
Meanwhile I had my gastroenterology appointment. The woman told me that we would not do the Ph test as first she wanted to schedule me for an upper GI endoscopy to check for esophogeal damage, ulcers and pre-cancerous lesions. WHAT?? Oooookay. So I scheduled that. Then when the nurse called to go over the procedure and my meds, etc., she said they would do a biopsy to check for eosinophilic esophagitis at the request of the doctor in addition to any they do if the see "something." Oooookay.
Anyway, whatever is causing the wheezing and dry cough is what is probably leaving me exhausted as it obviously interferes with the amount of oxygen I get while I sleep.
Still no idea why I have neuropathy. Probably will have to just live with it at this point. Sigh.
So all of this uncertainity is combining with the fact that it is fall heading into winter and that is always bad for my depression to leave me on a downward slide. My psychiatrist upped my Effexor XR; my PCP took me off of my trazodone and upped my clonazapem and took me off of two other meds (allergy stuff) to try to a) reduce the number of meds I'm taking and b) relieve some of the severe dryness in my eyes, mouth and --ahem!--Sister Suzy. (This is not--as proven by bloodwork--Sjogren's; just dryness from meds and a natural dryness I've always leaned towards. The mouth dryness is annoying because my teeth are starting to chip and break more easily and the eye dryness prevents me from ever wearing contacts. I use Celluvisc in my eyes and various forms of biotene and sugar-free gum to alleviate mouth dryness.)
So now we wait.

In other news, I'm not sure if I've mentioned that both of my boys, in recent months, have cut off their long, luxurious locks into "skater" cuts and my oldest died his black. It actually looks good on him, but the whole "cool teen/tween" thing they are going through makes me sad. I miss my little baby boys snuggling on my lap and laughing crazily at life. Now they are "emo" and perpeutally sarcastic--still funny and not at all depressed, just the projection of coolness and aloofness that makes me miss them even when they are right there in the room.

Holden made high honors and Ethan did well with his first quarter portfolio.

Nate is still working his butt off.

My BFF is ready to pop out a sweet baby boy any day/week now.

My brother-in-law's wife, ditto.

It's hard to be surrounded by baby love just as I'm missing it most.

I've started a few small indoor succulent gardens with various types of living rocks. All of my plants still seem to be doing alright, knock wood.

My book list over there -------> is suffering a bit. I've been reading a lot of magazines when I do read,; I forget to enter books and I haven't reviewed anything for a while. But anyway, at least I'm reading something, right?

And my job... Well, let's just say I'm looking forward to the end of this quarter. I need new sample. New areas to work.

And lastly, poor Ethan is home sick with what seems to be a cold. Voluntarily sleeping. Now that's sick. Poor sweetie.

I read fashion magazines.

There, I said it.
To me fashion magazines are like porn for fashion lovers. You may not be able to tell by looking at me most of the time, but I loves me some good design. Right now I'm in lust with Thakoon, and then there are the old standbys: Calvin Klein, Armani, Marc Jacobs, Prada, Commes des Garcons. When I am wealthy, lol, my wardrobe will consist of these designers. I have a thing for girly mixed with tailored/classic mixed with avant garde. My shoes will all be Balenciaga. Assuming I never have to actually walk or stand. I love the finer things in life even though my budget and my conscience have a problem with this fact.
This is all a roundabout way of getting to Elle magazine. If Vogue and Bazaar are the Hustler of fashion rags, then Elle is the Playboy. The skin is a bit more modest and the articles are well-written and intriguingly intelligent. Elle also has a good book section which has pointed me to many great titles over the years. The book section also includes a Readers' Prize Panel for Elle readers who get to read three (FREE! PRE-pub many times!!) books following a theme and vote on them, sometimes having their reviews printed in the magazine. I have been selected for the January panel. Yay! January is a fiction month, and I would have preferred non-fiction, but I can't wait for my package to arrive. It's like Christmas and a reader's fantasy rolled into one little package. Hopefully, it's not a chick lit theme month, but they rarely have any chick lit in their pages, and even so, sometimes junk is fun reading.

Ketchup.

Oh...where to start?

Family:
Holden started his drum lessons. So far he is liking them and practicing. We told him he couldn't buy his drum kit until he has stuck with the lessons for a month or two.

Both boys are back in school now. Holden is enjoying school and doing very well, despite his last minute jitters right before he started about going to SciTech. Ethan's school hired a new teacher, so he doesn't have the teacher he thought he'd have and is quite relieved and happy with the new teacher so far.

I got tickets for The View in the mail today. I don't remember requesting them and presume I did it around the time I had ECT. Ma vaguely remembers me asking her about going sometime around the ECT. So my grandma, Ma, and BFF Vicki are going to see The View and, hopefully, get some good free shit. But at the very least BFF and I will get to boo H-ASS-elbeck. Ma and Grandma and I will go up to Manhattan the night before for a "night on the town" since we have to be there early for the taping.

Health:
I finished my antibiotics for the possible Lyme disease last Friday, so if I don't feel better by appx. the 26th, then back to the drawing board regarding the neuropathy and exhaustion. So far all is pretty much the same. Hence the lack of posts lately, because if I am not working, I'm resting. Plus my allergies are out-of-fucking-control right now. I've decided to go ahead with immunotherapy for my allergies, despite the huge time commitment the damn shots will be. But I don't see my immunotherapist until around Thanksgiving. Eh, I'll muddle through, like I always do, I guess.

I've decided to try acupuncture for my pain, but the appt. has not been made yet. (Other things I have not set up yet: 1. Tuning of the piano for Ethan as he wants to take lessons. 2. Lessons for Ethan. 3. Taking my computer in to have the wireless fixed. [Out since my vacation in July...] 4. Setting up a pedicure date with my girlfriend Tahnee as promised. Okay, hold on, I'm going to make some phone calls...)

Politics:

1. Sarah Palin. 'Nuf said. Anything else and my blood pressure rises. But feel free to Google "Palin's lies" or "fact check Palin." Or for the latest gossip on the Palin family, check this out. Plus The Daily Show has been an excellent source for pointing out the McCain-Palin hypocrisies.
2. Love Olberman's "McCain in the Membrane" feature.
3. I'm "eh" so far on Maddow's new show, so far, although I, too, am "Gay for Rachel Maddow."

Dumb-Ass Crap you probably don't care about (even more so than usual, lol.):

I updated my "Books I've Read" list.----------> then scroll down

Some chick I work "with" (remember: it's all relative...) got fired and might get prosecuted. The details will bore you, especially if I already told them to you, lol. But the gossip was juicy to me, anyway.

New shows on the regular DVR-timer list:

1. True Blood
2. Privileged

Sad the season is over/almost over:

1. Swingtown
2. Weeds

Treasured old friends I'm glad to welcome back:

1. Bones
2. House
3. The New Adventures of Old Christine
4. How I Met Your Mother
5. The Office

Picture Pages Picture Pages

Today is picture day. Get ready cuz it's comin' at ya!

Rehoboth version of American Gothic.

Kayly: hat, tent, sunscreen, book

Holden: chillaxing and bronzing

Ethan: rolling in the sand for the hell of it

Nate (not pictured): trying to swim to the horizon

That pretty much sums up our week at the beach.

Awww! Arrgh! Pirate Syd Vicious at the beach house

GAW-gous!!

Fat Cat Lays Flat (Sorry, no mat.)

Nate must have taken this; he's yard proud. See our hammock, almond trees, dog run and, in the very back on the left--behind the big tree, our weeping willow.

Side yard! WOO-HOO!

The very first piece of real, new furniture I bought with money I earned. (See part of my Haeger collection on top?)

Moved the two matching bookcases to either side of the fireplace for my cherished sense of symmetry. (The empty pot is due to my snake plant sunning itself on the back porch. Lazy thing!)

My good friend Tahnee gave (yes! another FREE plant!) me this corn plant as it was too tall for her new(ish) house and suffering there. It was her grandmother's, then her mom's, then hers. It is TWENTY years old. Pray I don't kill the poor thing. (Nate wanted me to show Tahnee how the plant was happy with it's new friends the Madagascar Dragon Tree--a.k.a. Dracaena marginata--with ivy on the right and the money tree o pachira on the left.)

This corner used to be stacked hip high with loose piles of books; now it's my best version of a Martha Stewart-esque functional tableau. Those are wines corks in the carboy.

My newest freecycle acquisition. The aforementioned Madagascar Dragon Tree which came with the ivy and this be-yoo-tee-ful pot. Sweet!

When it rains, it pours. And whatever the opposite platitude is.

My past week...

1. The other week, when I was in Ann Arbor, training, I started having limb tingling. Not just my feet or legs or hands or arms, but everything from my elbows to my fingertips and my knees to my toes. It feels like when your body parts "fell asleep" and are "waking up." This is called neuropathy. Apparently to have it in arms AND hands AND legs AND feet on both sides is not as common as other types of neuropathy. I could have a really bad pinched nerve somewhere, probably in my cervical spine. I could have Buerger's Disease. I could have MS. I could have autoimmune peripheral neuropathy. I could have hip cancer. Other than the last one, all are plausible due to my autoimmune history. (But, of course, hypochondriac that I can be, I do remember having very bad hip pain last week, once, and a few other times in the last year.) Whatever it is, more drugs, unfortunately, will most likely be the answer. My appointment is in a few weeks.
2. Nate took his (recently paid off) Catera into the fancy dealer shop (where he bought the car) and found out his radiator needs replaced right before our vacation for $800 and to repair his long broken AC would be another $2400, not to mention his sunroof isn't working so the poor bugger is roasting to death. We said nay on the AC as that would cost more than the car is worth now. And he called the local guy to see what he could do for the radiator. $400. GREAT! But parts won't be in until next week. When we're in Rehoboth. Call to grandparents: Can we borrow a car for a week, because we need two cars to get to the beach house with all of the stuff and kids and the dog? "Yes." GREAT!
3. A week spent worrying that I am sucking horse dong at this job. Conference call today. I am WAY far ahead (like a week or so of work) of many of the new girls and even most of the old-hands. Yay! I'm a bit competitive (stop smirking!!) and am now fretting over the week I am going to lose on vacay. Almost immediately after I had my "yay!" moment, I then had my "oh NO!!" moment. Typical.
4. Our dishwasher has been not working for a while. The Sears repair guy gave me our $400 estimate and then told me it'd be cheaper to buy a new one. A) No it wouldn't, we're picky. B) I want to repair and not replace. Better for the Mother and all that. But C) $400?!?!? SUCKS! Damn Mother! We approved the estimate. Parts will be in next week, so repairs are the following week.
5. Car and dishwasher aside, we are eagerly (yeah, right) awaiting the tuition bill from Holden's high school. Since he is attending another district (the science magnate school in the next district over), we'll have to pay them. He won some money based on merit, but apparently we're now "rich" and therefore the first people from out of district to have to pay anything at this school. The rest of the kids have always received needs-based money from the science foundation to cover the whole tuition. SUCKS! (Who knew being rich sucked? We've waited 15 years to be "too rich" for something, and now I wonder why. Bills just expand to meet income somehow. Where're my mani/pedis? Where's my weekly massage? Where's my wine cellar? Where's my housecleaner? Where the HELL is my pool-slash-whirlpool-slash-patio-slash-poolhouse cum guesthouse?)
6. Tomorrow: Laundry, and then we PACK! Happy 4th of Ju-freaking-ly!!

Make no mistake, I do have my trashy novels ready for the beach!

Things you wouldn't say to the person face to face...

One of the cardinal rules of email etiquette is, "Don't say anything by email that you wouldn't say to the person's face."
This gets tricky on blogs.
I have that neat little "Live Traffic" widget from Feedjit that lets me know how people are arriving on my page and where they go when they leave.
I've had people come here from all kinds of Google searches. Quotes, books, lines I wrote that apparently matched quotes they were looking for (i.e. "those votes won't count for anything"), etc.
Well, since I already know one author Googled her own book and ended up on my blog, I felt rather worried when I saw the search: klam "please excuse my daughter" because my blurb--actually more of a "bl" than a whole blurb--might be hurtful if the author was the one doing the search. ["Please Excuse My Daughter-Julie Klam (Memoir)--DONE B (A fun and frank memoir, but not a whole lot of substance. Kind of an ordinary rich girl's life.)]
So that brings me back to etiquette. How do you know what you might say to someones face if you don't know that you might have to do so? Does that make sense?
I mean I know anything I have said about Hellary here, I would say to--nay, scream at--her face given the chance. And obviously anything nice here is something I would say to any given person's face. But how do you know in what way a person a person will receive what you say when you fling it into (cyber)space?
Well, Ms. Klam, if you ever do read this, for the record, I very much enjoyed your book and read it in a couple of sittings. Maybe because I related so much to your situations--except the wealthy parents part--they seemed ordinary to me, or maybe your life is very ordinary, but you write well enough to make it interesting. Who knows?
And if I'm just being overly empathetic for no real, good reason, well then, I'm just being "ordinary" for myself.

Am I an idiot?

I love R.E.M. I really, really do. I've seen them twice; we own almost all of their albums. Given a choice of music to listen to they are near the to of the list. But god-DAMN if I have no idea what 99% of their songs are about. Now there are a lot of bands who have songs I don't get, but none on such a grand scale as a band I've been listening to for 20 years. Anywho, I was just watching Subterranean and saw their new video and was like, "This is good; what is it about?" And felt a bit like an idjit.
In other music news--as Tabitha used to say--there was also a video by Andrew Bird which I quite liked; but then realized I recognized from a commercial. Turns out he is quite the adman. So far I've found the series of Illinois commercials and the Marriott Residence Inn commercials. Know any others? Shoot 'em my way.
Speaking of shooting... Poor Nancy Reagan. HA! HAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, can't help but be a little jubilant. Moses is dead and NancyReagan is heartbroken? It's like a twofer. My BFF Vicki let me know the news this morning: "Go ahead, Kayly. Pry it from his cold, dead hands. I know you want to!!! :)" Ah, you know me all too well, Vicki, love.
Vicki, you'll be relieved to know the girls are safe but disappointed to know the prick is still on the loose. Why are my friend and I so fascinated by FLDS?? May I suggest Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer? If you don't get it then, I cannot help you.
Well, I'm off to bed for my early morning gyno visit. Wish me...uh, luck?

Yay?

My counsellor had suggested that now that I am doing well after the ECT and because my "issues" are at the root of my depression--on top of biology, that is--that perhaps a partial hospitalization program would help by giving me the intense therapy I need to get on with dealing with these issues. I'm resistant because I hate--I mean HATE--group therapy. But, apparently, group is but a small portion of the help I will get. So we are on the way to completing the referral. I will be going to Hershey Med Center (again) starting on Tuesday unless my insurance says "Nay." The program there is 9:00 a.m.-3:30 p.m., Monday through Friday. Hmm? Do we eat there? I forgot to ask...


In other, not so interesting, news: I wanted to ask you to make note of my "What I'm Reading Now" feature on the sidebar. (It's over there ---> somewhere; scroll down and come back; I'll wait.) Okay. Note how all of the books have good grades? Yeah, well, I give books a "30 page test." First let me say, I carefully "vet" books before I buy them or check them out of the library. So if they make it to the list at all, we can assume I would call them at least a "C" or I wouldn't be interested enough to go the trouble. I am not forced to read stuff like a real book reviewer might be. Then I read the first 30 or so pages with as open a mind as is possible for me. If, for some reason, I am bored or do not like the tone or tenor of the book, I will put it aside and move on. Hence only "C+" and above will ever show up here. UNLESS, and this is a big exception, I decide to foray into bizarro world and read a book I know I will hate to keep abreast of the "enemy." These are almost exclusively non-fiction books and happens rarely, as I must have the mental strength to get through it without wanting to hunt down the author like an animal. Right now I am number nine (!!)--up from number twelve--on the waiting list at the library for a book called--no lie--Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left, From Mussolini to the Politics of Meaning by Jonah Goldberg. Now, you can click the link, but if you buy it, I can no longer be your friend. Please check your local library if you must, like some masochist such as myself, read this polemic. Here is the cover:


How could I resist such filth?? It so worries me that I am number nine up from number twelve, but then again, maybe they are all spying on the enemy, like I am. (If not, then I rather like the irony of "conservatives" partaking of government services like the public library. But I'm sure they'd never get it!)
Oh, funny, I just got a phone bank call from Obama's campaign. Funny, because I have been phone banking, too. He was on script, but I interrupted him to save him time. "We are 'strong supporters,' I am already a volunteer, and we are already donating money." Check, check and CHECK! Next call. Do you want to phone bank for the April 22 PA primary? Go to the website click "Make Calls" about halfway down the page on the right, or if you are in PA click the "Pennsylvania Neighborhood Teams" box and sign up to make calls. You can do it from home, they give you a script and it makes a big difference for the campaign, believe me!! After the first few you'll get the hang of it if you've never done it before. Plus you can put it on your resume if you want to. (Speaking of resumes: I got another rejection ths morning--well, the position was already filled. Same diff in the end.)
Now: to the errands!

Breaking Through

Last night I was supposed to take Holden to a campaign meeting at the Plumbers and Pipefitters Local 520 with the hope of seeing Sen. Obama speak, but he did not have time to stop in Harrisburg last night. Disappointing, but hopefully there will be another chance down the road. I want to kindle the spark of interest Holden shows in politics and allow him to particpate in history as well. They switched the meeting to a button-making party at campaign HQ, which didn't interest Holden too much and, honestly, I felt like shit to begin with, so I schlepped Ethan to his soccer practice instead, allowing Nate to not have to run away from work before he was technically able to.

Watching Obama on CNN right now speaking on race. An important and historic speech on race. (Although the distancing himself from his pastor bothers me. I feel Rev. Wright may have made controversial points, but very salient ones.) He makes me so proud to be an American. It's been a long time since I got that feeling from a Democratic candidate. The speech was preceded but much commentary, and I believe it was the first time I ever heard the phrase "black liberation theology" on CNN or even on TV in general.

Meanwhile I still feel like shit. I guess it's a cold or REALLYREALLY bad seasonal allergies. I'm loaded up on Tylenol Cold Multi-Symptom Severe liquid, Afrin 12 hour Sever Congestion nasal spray, Airborne and saline nasal spray because my nose is paradoxically so dry it's bleeding even though it won't stop dripping mucus. Yum!

I'm holed up on the couch for the rest of the day, having run my only errand--Holden' orthodontist appointment--and brewed my pot o'coffee and changed into my comfy sweats.

Back to the speech which is still going on: I love how he refuses to campaign negatively again HC even though he has so many reasons to do so. He says to stop pouncing on so-called racist remarks and start focussing on real issues. I can't help it, though, I will keep pouncing. He can be above it, but I'm not that enlightened yet.

BTW, I just started listening to Audacity of Hope on CD last night. I have enough actual reading going on, plus I like his voice, so this is the first book of CD I've ever done, but it's cool. Three to five minute snippets I can grab here and there are perfect for running errands and sitting at soccer practice. He is so honest and inspiring. Really, it's almost sickening, lol.

a bit more personal this one is

I am having much better days, much more optimism, much more "get get up get up and go go go," much more day light (literally, as I am both waking much earlier and actually opening all of the blinds and letting in the sunshine, both very new for me), much more ability to plan for the future. But I am still having these brief periods where, in a flash-outta-nowhere, blackness hits and I cry. I guess that this is a kind of "withdrawal" to the process of having been depressed for so long, who knows.
I do know that I am actively searching for a job and want to get out there as soon as possible so I can maintain my good hours and "daylight savings-account balance" to keep from slipping back into bad habits that in turn would lead to the old depression. It's a vicious cycle as depression always is. So far nobody has called for an interview. This amps up my anxiety, which leads to either a) an as-aforementioned crying jag or b) a Klonopin and a glass of red wine. (Sure one or the other would do the trick, but together: bliss! Plus the added bonus of everything being astoundingly amusing! Chill with judgyjudgy--this happens about twice a week at most.How much beer do you drink/pot do you smoke/food do you scarf when you feel bored/blue/angry?)
It's been suggested that I volunteer somewhere, a good deed that would be indeed, however...
Confession time: When released from the booby hatch I had the courage to finally come clean with my husband about a shameful secret: Over the past 4-5 years I've run up an astounding credit card debt. My credit rating is still very good (probably better than yours, even) as my payments are always well above the minimum and on time. But my spending was tootoo much. The accounts are closed; the cards are cut; and only one account has a balance to be paid. But, oh! what a balance! So my entire spending allowance is now going towards payments, along with a tidy sum from the household budget.
I've also had to cut out triple-venti-flavored-lattes ($5.09 each), netflix ($16.99 a month), my monthly donations to Feminist Majority ($10) and WXPN ($20), my stack of 5 gossip mags every week (about $15 a week), the stack of monthly magazines from Borders (approx. $50 a month), my couple or five books a month ($30-$75 a month), couple or six CDs a month ($25-$75 a month), various miscellaneous donations every month or so (anywhere from $10 to $75 a month--luckily, as a couple, we still budget for philanthropy every month, so we are not snubbing the needy altogether, just not going into debt for it as I have been stupidly doing), stacks of various perfumes, makeups, shoes, clothes and personal care products I honestly and truly DO NOT need (untold sums of money), massages occasionally (about $65-$80 every other month or every third month), magazine subscriptions ($?), meals out ($?), and lots and lots of wine ($?).
So yes, I need to get paid. And well. (Well, "well" in terms of someone with little or no skills and a not-so-hot work history.) Then I can pay off my debts and maintain a bit of my previous spendthrift ways.
Nate has been amazingly wonderful about my having created this mess and then hid it from him. At his suggestion--and I agreed--the new counsellor I've scheduled with specializes in generalized anxiety disorder and depression and also addiction problems, so I can figure out why I can't control myself when I have a little plastic card in my hand.
So now you all (all one or two of you who read this, and who already know this anyway) know my secret shame and the anxiety I'm causing myself with it until I have a real, live grown-up job.

Alrighty then!

Friends and family have been expressing good wishes for me for two days--in person, by email, by phone. It's wonderful to feel surrounded by this haze of golden warmth.

Everyone has been so nice and encouraging, but the worry is in their voices. I wish I wasn't worrying anyone, one of us worried is enough, right?

Damnedest thing: the book I mentioned on Thursday, " Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin by Courtney A. Wash (a memoir I plan on reading ironically in the 'loony bin')?" Well the author left me an encouraging comment on the Thursday post. Cool or what? The haze of golden warmth expands it's circle to strangers...

I've showered and washed my hair. (Before the shower I took a loooooong hot bath and read two New Yorker mags.) I'm doing laundry. I'm mostly packed. I've finished dinner. I erased a lot of watched items on my DVR. Now I'm sitting with "my boys"--all three of them--while they watch their Smallville.

Tommorow morning they will call to tell me when to be there. Hopefully it goes as planned and I can go tomorrow. The waiting is killer.

Thursday already??

How I am feeling today:

Black Eyed Dog by Nick Drake
A black eyed dog he called at my door
The black eyed dog he called for more
A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog
A black eyed dog.
I'm growing old and I wanna go home
I'm growiing old and I don't wanna know
I'm growing old and I wanna go home.
A black eyed dog he called at my door
A black eyed dog he called for more.


Still no word from PNTs office. He had said we could start as early as this week, but that is obviously out of the question. Next week would be great, but considering it is Thursday, it looks unlikely to be the beginning of the week, if at all. The whole thing of having to pass it through my insurance and taking me off of my mood stabilizer--Lamictal, which is also an anti-convulsant--seems like it would probably take a week by itself. I'll also have to change my Klonopin for a shorter acting antianxiolytic for some reason. I hope I can go back on both and not some new meds after the treatments, because these two are definitely working well for my mixed states and anxiety. Just need an antidepressant that works after the treatments... Hope we figure it out someday.

The boys are spending the night at a friend's house tomorrow night and Nate wanted to know if I wanted to go out, but honestly, I don't know if I can drag myself to take a shower and wash my hair and then go do something after that. It tires me to do it and it even tires me to think of it.

I ordered these from Amazon last night:

• Take You High by Willis (CD)
• Parklife by Blur (CD)
• Juno Soundtrack (CD)
• Made of Bricks by Kate Nash (CD)
• Loaded by Velvet Underground (CD)
• Falling Out Fashion by Karen Yampolsky (dumb "chick lit" book about behind the scenes at the now-defunct fluffy feminist mag I loved: Jane; I couldn't find it at the library)
• Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin by Courtney A. Wash (a memoir I plan on reading ironically in the "loony bin")

And I'm reading this popular fiction work now:

• We Are All Welcome Here by Elizabeth Berg

So far it's all right for popular fiction. A little light reading after all of the ECT reading and true crime sadness.

Today's "news"

The latest on PNO and PNT: I called PNT’s office to confirm they received the records which PNO called to let me know he faxed. (He faxed them before leaving for a NYC medical conference for two weeks and then checked when he came home, only to see that the transmission of the fax went awry, so he re-faxed them for me.) PNT’s office said, “No, we didn’t get them, still waiting.” ARGH! I called PNO’s voicemail in tears (because the waiting is killing me) to ask that he re-re-send them. Then I get a phone call from the medical records office at PNT: Whoops! We got them and PNT already has them. SO sorry! So I had to call PNO’s voicemail back and say: Whoops! Never mind my last, barely comprehensible message. They did get them. So now I’m waiting for PNT to make a final decision and call me back.

Some new books on my wishlist (a mess of compulsive collecting and other neuroses):

• A Portrait of Yo Mama as a Young Man
• These board books by Lisa Brown—I cannot wait ‘til a certain friend has a baby to buy them for
• These board books by Michelle Sinclair Coleman
• These board books by Amy Wilson Sanger
• Any of these “reference” books for kids
• Any of the Pirates books by Gideon Defoe

Yes, these are mostly kids’ books, but I like to collect kids’ books which I find interesting. I especially like books illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger.

And finally, for today, last night I finished Never Enough by Joe McGinniss. Good true crime about a crazy, hubby murdering rich, white lady in Hong Kong. I give it a B or B+ for the genre.