believing in fairies

So... now on to some comments on Pan's Labyrinth (El Laberinto del Fauno)...

We saw this last week and I have thought about it on & off since then... I really enjoyed it a lot and highly, highly recommend it.

Special effects were fantastic, and yet somehow subtle—completely subservient to the story instead of seeming to be the movie's raison d'etre... even though they were utterly indispensible.

Characters were interesting and complex. Even those who could be summed up in a few words ("sadistic army guy," "tragic doomed woman") yet managed to have nuances and backstories and to seem very real and believable.

The reviews all made it sound horrendously gory, but it really wasn't. It was genuinely (if mildly) scary, in its depiction of fantastical and all-too-real versions of evil, but there were only a few brief bits I couldn't watch—it wasn't gratuitously gory, and there was plenty of warning when to look away.

I was worried that a fable about a little girl's coming of age or growing up would be anti-feminist, but was pleasantly surprised—okay, shocked—to find that it was powerfully feminist.

I saw it as feminist for two reasons. First, because of the way the two adult women are contrasted. Each tries to protect herself and her loved ones through a different path: the woman who takes the traditional path of trading sexuality and servitude for safety, does not find what she sought; the woman who is brave, independent, strong, resourceful and a real fighter, is in a much better situation at the end of the film.

Second, the little girl's "coming of age" involves thinking for herself and standing up for what's right even in the face of her worst fears—not being rescued by Prince Charming. There is nothing gendered about her challenges, her courage, or her victory (although it could be argued that belief in fairy-tales is gendered). I feel like cheering just thinking about this aspect... a wise, strong, brave little girl!

Another thing I liked about the film is the way that the doctor and Mercedes both seem to see themselves as cowardly because they serve in the captain's household, and yet, by holding true to what they believe is right, they are able to become heroes in key moments. They convey how heroism doesn't necessarily require some great leap; when the moment came, they knew what to do, and it was completely natural, like taking another step on a path you've always walked. Inspiring.

One thing I've been thinking about all week (and this may have been obvious to others more quickly... I haven't been in the lit-crit milieu in a long time!) is the relationship between the fairy-tale and the real-life story that are inter-woven throughout the film.

I think I finally have an interpretation of it that satisfies me... your mileage may vary, of course. But I think it's all about belief—not giving up on your beliefs—having faith in something that carries you through. In a secular sort of way, it's about the victory of faith and love.

Spoiler here—plot and ending details. If you don't want to know, skip the rest of the post (it prob'ly won't make a whole lot of sense if you haven't seen the film anyway).

... spoiler ...

... spoiler ...


So, the child is "saved" by her belief in her fairy tale—saved from the full impact of the horrors of war and her mother's drama; also, if one is to take the fairy tale as "real," she is saved from death. Throughout the film, her belief is a kind of resistance; it's interwoven with her "real life" resistance, such as when she destroys the party dress.

The mother, who has given up on belief (if she ever had it) and is just trying to stay alive, has betrayed herself and her daughter into the hands of evil; she hopes that collaborating with evil will keep them safe, but it kills them.

Mercedes is the opposite of the mother. She says she once believed in fairies as a child; now she believes in the resistance struggle. Belief, and her love for her brother give her courage and determination. She does not let herself be killed but fights back. Her faith is like a fire in her... she is so beautiful at the end when she is sort of revealed in all her glory...

What do you think?

Anyway, that's my two cents. It's late and I'm tired. Never enough hours in the day...

update

First, an update on the previous post: it was just a cold.

Loopy had been feeling achy and miserable for a couple days, and with everything she's been through, there were a couple different things that could have been going wrong. Our doctor back in Madison told us to just go in to the ER just to be on the safe side. Once we got to the ER she started sneezing, so it got to be a bit more obvious, but we still waited for test results.

Anyway. She's fine. Just miserable.

I must say, though, we are getting quite experienced at this whole ER business. This time (which is, what... our fifth time in the last, uh, five months?) we brought a fabulous dinner and the laptop with a DVD in it.

So, although Loopy was sick, I at least was not as miserable as usual, as we savored our sumptuous desserts and watched "Good Night, and Good Luck." (We didn't get far enough into it to review it).

All in all, though, not my favorite way to spend an evening.

This afternoon, Loopy's nephew mentioned he was cold and I got him some blankets; as I tucked in his feet, he very sweetly said that maybe I should consider becoming a nurse.

This is not the first time in the last six months that someone has suggested I might be destined to be a nurse. I do appreciate that it's meant as a compliment to my caregiving.

I am glad to do what I can to make my loved ones more comfortable. However, the thought of being a nurse is not appealing; it's like saying, "hey, you're getting really good at being in hell, why don't you spend the rest of your life there?"

Huh. This makes me think that maybe my resistance to being in hospitals is making my time there more unpleasant than necessary? Maybe if I were more positive about it, it would be more pleasant?

Naw.... don't think so.

Please rest assured that if you are among the people I have cared for in the last six months, or if I should end up at your hospital bed in the future, I don't resent it, because I love you. I've learned that I can be genuinely helpful and I'm glad to help people I love.

But I don't enjoy it either. If I don't love you, I will avoid ending up at your hospital bed. Or if I end up there, it will be for a brief visit, and I will not hold your shirt while the nurse changes your dressing.

I'm pretty sure about that.

more hospitals!

We are still in Pennsylvania with Loopy's sister & nephew. The latter is now in the rehab section of the hospital, and well on the road to recovery, much to everyone's surprise and delight.

I was going to post about Pan's Labyrinth, which we saw a week ago. But Loopy feels crappy so we have to go to the ER.

It's probably nothing serious, but in our brilliantly designed health-care system, the ER is the only place to go if you're out of reach of your own doctor. :-P

SO I am posting just to complain that I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF HOSPITALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loopy-Loopy dialogue: a double feature*

Scene: I enter the bedroom, where Loopy is snoring with the TV remote in her hand.

Me (kissing her): You're sleeping, my darling, and you don't have your [sleep apnea CPAP machine] mask on.

Loopy: Sign in.

Me: Huh?

Loopy (louder and more distinctly): You have to sign in.

Me: To what?

Loopy: To the menu.

Me (finally getting that she's talking in her sleep): .... Why?

Loopy: So you can power it up. (She turns over with finality and burrows into the pillows, but obediently puts the CPAP mask on, still asleep).

(I can't wait til morning to see if she has any idea what that was about!)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scene: earlier, at the gym. Joni Mitchell's "Clouds" is playing on the annoying piped-in music track.

Loopy: Ohhhhhh.... you know, I first heard this song when I was seven, and I thought that it was all about clowns.

Me (laughing): She's looked at clowns from both sides now? The round red nose side and the curly wig side?

Loopy: Yeah.

Me: And she really doesn't know clowns at all?

Loopy: Well, it made sense to me at the time--you don't really know clowns, because they wear makeup!

Me: And you just figured this out.

Loopy: Yes.

Me: Sweetie, you have this on CD.

Loopy (laughing): I know!

Me: That takes the cake. OK, you never again get to make fun of me for [thinking that OutKast's "Hey Ya" contains the line] "shake it like a corduroy preacher" or [thinking that the Indigo Girls' "Love Will Come to You" contains the line] "offer up a crystal bottle of glue."

Loopy (witheringly): I was seven. You're thirty-five.

---

*Whatever happened to the double feature? The last one I saw was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan with Little Orphan Annie. Seriously.

a moment of nostalgia for my high school

Hey Rie (I don't think I have any other readers from high school...?), do you remember that geeky kid who used to wear that awesome green self-made t-shirt that read,

To err is human; to moo, bovine.

?

Yeah. Me too.

oh yeah

A few days after the previous post, a comforting quote floated into my head...

"The universe in which things turned out differently exists only in your head, and it exists primarily to torment you." (Zen teacher Cheri Huber; approximate quote)

Somehow that helped.

big changes...

Just finished putting away all the kitchen stuff we brought home from the apt., as well as the last of the groceries (the larder was pretty much bare, my friends!)--I also bleached all the countertops b/c there was mouse poop scattered about. (Hands need lotion...) Did some organizing too. But organizing is weird now because...

... we decided to strongly & seriously consider moving to Chicago this spring.

The lease on the Chicago apt. is up in May, and Loopy has a lot more work to do, and not much stamina at the moment for a lot of driving back & forth, never mind the pain involved in climbing two flights of stairs to the Chicago apartment--and don't forget the two flights of stairs here at home. The total handicap-inaccessibility of our house is a very strong "push" factor.

Besides, it doesn't look like I'm ever gonna get a job around here... there's just too much of a glut of experienced teachers on the market, plus (perhaps?) not much appetite for non-traditional teachers? Who knows about the latter, can't assume too much. Whereas in Chicago I could prob'ly have a job tomorrow, if I weren't too picky.

So that's just on the agenda to be explored... wanted to tell y'all about it...

The other thing the title is referring to is something Loopy said today... she was looking at old photos and it really struck her how limited her mobility still is, how she may never get it all back and how she "may never be just standing there again," without help. This struck me some months ago at the gym... that she may never again just come bustling around the corner suddenly. Of course, she may make a complete recovery, but she doesn't feel very optimistic at the moment.

I looked at some old photos to illustrate this and the ones from Montreal struck me the most. Jesus, that just feels like a short time ago--it is just a short time ago--just two months before the surgery.

Damn it damn it damn it, I get so angry thinking about how everything would have been different if they had just found the fucking tumor two months earlier!!!

I know, I know--we did our best, the doctors did their best, nobody's to blame, we can never know what all the alternatives might have been. As we discussed the other day, if they'd done the surgery two months earlier who knows--maybe we wouldn't have had the same surgeon or the same anaesthesiologist or something and maybe something bad woulda happened. Buddhism encourages us to realize that we don't know, for certain, if anything is "good" or "bad." To keep an open mind and not be too certain of anything.

But...



Damn, damn, damn.

home at last

finally moved home today... we left on October 27, seventy-eight days ago; we lived in the hospital for three weeks and the apartment for eight weeks. we thank our lucky stars for all the people whose kindness, generosity, reliability, etc. made all this possible.

things i will miss about the apartment:

• covered, heated parking garage (s'posed to be zero all week this week)(degrees, outside—for all you non-locals)
  
• no piles of clutter (to remind me of years of mental dysfunction and a lot of work to do to go through it all—my therapist suggested a dumpster)
  
• not having to worry about all the home-owner-y chores (gotta mulch that iris—and is there something wrong with the water softener?)
  
• being so close to stores and friends (so easy to pop out for a midnight snack or an impulsive get-together!)

things i'm glad to be reunited with, here at home:

• dogs!!!! they're so happy to have us home (and so interested in everything we've brought with us... "what's that mom, huh, huh, can I have it? can I? what about that? what's in here? oooh, this smells good...")
  
• front-loading washer that won't shred our clothing (can finally wash all our sweaters! they need it!—sorry, tmi!)
  
• space...between us and the neighbors... (no more muffling our faces in pillows during mango chutney ;-) )
  
• printers! (now i can finally finish Miri's xmas present—and next time we go on a trip, the confirmations #s and maps etc. won't be scrawled on the back of an envelope)
  
• our satellite DVR, which has faithfully recorded all the episodes of "Six Feet Under" that have been showing on Bravo for the last three months (plus some random "Benny Hill" episodes--not sure how that happened!)
  
• just... being... HOME. you know what i mean. *big peaceful sigh*

Hope you're having a good weekend!

silly reality tv

Gay, Straight, or Taken... have you people seen this one?

A girl dates three guys and has to figure out which one is straight and single. If she picks the right one she gets to go on a fabulous vacation (with him, I think)--if she picks the wrong one he goes on the fabulous vacation with his boyfriend or girlfriend. It's funny.

I can't believe this is the first post I'm labeling with "tv."

recuperation & movie reviews

So my back is still pretty fucked so there's a lot of lying around on ice, taking valium and watching movies.... and did I mention chocolate?

When it first went "out" I was terrified that my back would get worse & worse & I'd end up flat on my back and crawling to the bathroom and crying from pain like in 2002..... but it's slowly getting better so I'm not that worried anymore, and am enjoying taking it easy.... Loopy is getting so much better, it's wonderful--she is waking up, and sharing chores and criticizing my driving ("pros and cons," as I keep saying to Shamus & Ang). ;-) So we're having fun.

I worked today and will work tomorrow... but I don't feel like blogging about that, except to note that I worked in the library today... and the library people always like me way better than the teacher people do... this bothers me and I could analyze it but I'll save that for another time. Also I do need to get going on paying bills (haven't opened a bill in 6 weeks, and the hospital has started calling) and starting this year's job search in earnest. By the weekend, I promise.

But first... some movie thoughts......

Transamerica: a good movie. Not sure if it's a good movie about transpersons' experience, etc., but i still thought it was a good movie... a very light touch, light humor and emotion--it could have been ridiculously heavy-handed but wasn't. It could have been a pastiche of clichés but it wasn't. The lead came to a greater acceptance of herself through confronting things and people she had been avoiding, and she conveyed that in a very understated and believable way. I'm not sure if her portrayal was flattering but it was interesting, worth watching. Recommended.

Tristan & Isolde: Loopy & I are always suckers for a big-budget period piece, and this one was delightful--shockingly enough it featured good acting and good writing. Beautifully shot, beautiful actors. There are enough versions of the story that you can have a little suspense as to exactly how it will end... the constraints of history and plot and archetype limit the options, and it feels a tad forced, but it comes close enough to working that you just don't care. Or I didn't. Recommended.

The Promise(无极): Wow, wow, wow. Despite my generally low tolerance for Chinese warriors flying through the air, I loved this movie. It's a fairytale fable with goddesses and magical cloaks and people from a pure land now destroyed, blah blah blah. But oh... my... god... it is SOOOOO beautiful. GORGEOUS. The jacket said that it was "the most beautiful movie imaginable" and I'd have to agree. Highly recommended.

Beowulf & Grendel: A doomed and horrifying attempt at a sympathetic portrayal of Grendel. Very little overlap with the actual story; features an anachronistic feminist Grendel-rights-activist witch; degenerates into total nonsense. Also, horrifyingly full of Loopy's (un-)favorite--severed heads. We had to quit watching it after the climactic fight scene. Absolutely not recommended. I couldn't even turn it into a drinking game.

The Lake House: Am watching it right now. Bad. Really bad. And dull. But we had to put something on to get Grendel's gruesome dismemberment out of my head. (R was smart enough not to watch, but she said the sound effects are bad enough). Although hearing dialogue like the quote below is only marginally less nightmarish:

Keanu (spoken with a painfully failed effort to pretened to be pondering the subject while speaking): D'you know... I think Dad wants us to do what he couldn't. But admitting that would mean admitting that he came up short in some way, and that tortures him...

. Ooh... just hit a new low... "Wow, a comedian, what did you have clown for breakfast this morning or something?" (No, that would make you a cannibal, not a comedian). I think I have to go to bed now. Oh god, it's getting worse and worse...

tweaked template

if you feel like taking a peek... i made it so the photo at right doesn't disappear off the page when it's horizontal. this was harder than i thought it would be.

because there are now so many of my own photos on the blog (they rotate at top right and along the bottom of the page), i admit a slight vanity-based preference for people actually visiting the blog (instead of just viewing it on Bloglines), but i'm also strongly aware that i'm damn lucky to have any readers so i can't be too picky. still... can't hurt to ask. ;-)

hu's on first

Amy sent this to me a long time ago--so long that I didn't have a blog & wasn't able to share it with you. I do remember that I laughed until I thought I would split something.

So, tonight while reading a serious news story about Chinese and Iranian diplomats' meetings, I remembered this little bit of fun and thought I would dig it up and pass it on.

Playwright Jim Sherman wrote this after Hu Jintao was named chief of the Communist Party in China. (We take you now to the Oval Office.)

George: Condi! Nice to see you. What's happening?

Condi: Sir, I have the report here about the new leader of China.

George: Great. Lay it on me.

Condi: Hu is the new leader of China.

George: That's what I want to know.

Condi: That's what I'm telling you.

George: That's what I'm asking you. Who is the new leader of China?

Condi: Yes.

George: I mean the fellow's name.

Condi: Hu.

George: The guy in China.

Condi: Hu.

George: The new leader of China.

Condi: Hu.

George: The Chinaman!

Condi: Hu is leading China.

George: Now whaddya' asking me for?

Condi: I'm telling you Hu is leading China.

George: Well, I'm asking you. Who is leading China?

Condi: That's the man's name.

George: That's who's name?

Condi: Yes.

George: Will you or will you not tell me the name of the new leader of China?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir? Yassir Arafat is in China? I thought he was in the Middle East.

Condi: That's correct.

George: Then who is in China?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir is in China?

Condi: No, sir.

George: Then who is?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir?

Condi: No, sir.

George: Look, Condi. I need to know the name of the new leader of China. Get me the Secretary General of the U.N. on the phone.

Condi: Kofi?

George: No, thanks.

Condi: You want Kofi?

George: No.

Condi: You don't want Kofi.

George: No. But now that you mention it, I could use a glass of milk. And then get me the U.N.

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Not Yassir! The guy at the U.N.

Condi: Kofi?

George: Milk! Will you please make the call?

Condi: And call who?

George: Who is the guy at the U.N?

Condi: Hu is the guy in China.

George: Will you stay out of China?!

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: And stay out of the Middle East! Just get me the guy at the U.N.

Condi: Kofi.

George: All right! With cream and two sugars. Now get on the phone.

glory hallelujah!*

first, today's good news: he's off the ventilator! he's breathing on his own! yay! cartwheels!

that's our Ricky, always was a champion breather--breathed every day of his life, the little rascal. ;-)

his mom says he's not really talking much, still mostly sleeping, but it's nice that he can talk... and he also seemed clearer and more able to understand what was said, so she tried to tell him a little about what has happened.

she says that he was very surprised that two weeks had passed and that it's now 2007--he doesn't remember Christmas (even though he was still awake then) and slept through New Year's. he did remember going into the hospital and a few things after that.

one other thing--she's very pleased that he has now quit smoking--in his sleep!

---

*re the "glory hallelujah," that's what spontaneously came out my mouth, with great emotion, the last time we got some good news on this whole drama. it's weird, but sometimes, if i want to really express profound relief or desperate hope, religious expressions keep coming to my lips....

i did feel sort of gibbousy

...[W]e also change like the weather, we ebb and flow like the tides, we wax and wane like the moon. We do that, and there's no reason to resist it. If we resist it, the reality and vitality of life become misery, a hell.

--Pema Chödrön, The Wisdom of No Escape & the Path of Loving-Kindness

Miri has pointed out to me that I often say that last week (or last month or last year) I had achieved (or avoided) a particular state or habit, but now I've backtracked and fallen into my old bad ways.

Since she pointed it out I hear myself saying it, but find it hard to think differently--first to let go of trying so hard to fix myself, to change, to be better--and second to let go of thinking that last week (or month or year) I had it, but now I've lost it again.

What if I could see these changes as weather, waxing and waning, ebbing and flowing? What if I weren't constantly monitoring my changes and labeling them as getting better and getting worse, being bad and being good? I believe it would... well, from this exact point and place in time, I believe it would make me better.

Round and round we go.



p.s. Bloglines readers, the image is worth clicking to... ;-)

discipline

in reference to the whole thing I discussed in the previous post about swinging from one extreme to another--from compulsively avoiding work to compulsively doing work--I've been thinking that this is because I lack some kind of solid interior compass or, what would you call it, lodestone, something that I can come back to.

One word that came to mind as I was thinking about this was "discipline"--I lack discipline--the discipline to work at appropriate times and the discipline to rest at appropriate times. I feel lost and unmoored all the time, trapped and confused.

And, a phrase came into my head from When Things Fall Apart: "What we discipline is not our 'badness'..." but I couldn't remember the rest. All I can think of is disciplining (punishing) my badness, my failures... So I looked up the full quote. Here it is, though I'd be lying if I said I had fully assimilated it...

To dissolve the causes of aggression takes discipline, gentle yet precise discipline. Without discipline, we simply don't have the support we need to evolve. What we discipline is not our "badness" or our "wrongness". What we discipline is any form of potential escape from reality. In other words, discipline allows us to be right here and connect with the richness of the moment.

...

Within this structure, we proceed with compassion...[T]he discipline is to return to gentleness, to honesty, to letting go. At the inner level, the discipline is to find the balance between not too tight and not too loose — between not too laid-back and not too rigid.

Discipline provides the support to slow down enough, and be present enough, so that we can live our lives without making a big mess. It provides the encouragement to step further into groundlessness.

--Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart (found here)

Hmmmmm....

our confused italian friend

today i gave OLIF a lecture on listening to me—specifically, that he shouldn't.

he is the only therapist i ever had who can listen past my merry babblings to hear what is really going on. he did this more when he didn't know me. now he has started to be distracted by what i say.

a year ago he could listen to me babble on for twenty minutes about "I'm doing so much better" and at the end of it say, "You sound really depressed." he needs to go back to that.

when i switched gears from compulsively loafing and shirking my responsibilities, to compulsively over-performing on my responsibilities, he missed how that was not actually any better (although it makes Loopy's life easier).

he was so glad that i was cleaning the house, that he didn't notice how crazy it was when i stayed up until 3 a.m.—after feeling sick all day and finally puking my guts out—compulsively cleaning up and washing christmas dinner dishes by hand. i only managed to stop myself when the drivingly compulsive part of my brain said i should mop the floor.

he didn't really get when i talked about the massive anxiety attack i had christmas eve because i had actually been responsible and finished all the preparations for christmas, and for the whole day of the 24th i really didn't have that much to do. i completely panicked because i felt that i had to have chores and responsibilities in order to feel okay. without them i was lost. this is crazy, boys and girls.

buddhism talks about ignoring the specific actions and looking at the process. the actions, for me, can be compulsive work or compulsive avoidance, but the process is one of aggression toward myself, and avoiding being settled with my true feelings, making decisions in response to circumstances, etc.

he knows i always think in images. he asked today what my image is for feeling grounded, connected to myself. i don't have one. my instinct was that i couldn't make such an image because it was such a dangerous, vulnerable place to be--in me--it's much safer to float away. that's the next place to start.

i don't know if any of htat made any sense. i'm just kind of writing it down. i bought a journal but have felt too disconnected from self to use it.

gotta go pack... finally going home.

our little italian stranger

OLIF was supposed to call me tonight and he seems to have forgotten. he forgot the last time he was supposed to call, too. annoying.

i am so sick of therapy and trying so hard all the time. maybe i could take some time off from therapy... some of the buddhist stuff i've read teaches that self-improvement is a form of aggression towards oneself, and that we can only become more gentle, loving, compassionate etc by relaxing the urge to "improve" and, just generally opening and relaxing.

but it takes a lot of effort, it seems, to pry my hands off the stick i beat myself with. it takes a lot of effort to choose to open and relax instead of clenching up.

so i've managed to put my back out (not severely, but enough to be quite painful) by not taking care of it. this gives me permission to take a break from being helpful and useful all the time.

of course, if i had given myself permission to take a break on purpose, if i had defended myself from myself, if i had stuck up for myself, i could have chosen when and how to take a break, instead of being forced into it. i could have been useless for 2 hours a day while i go to the gym, instead of being totally useless all day.

making yourself sick so you can take a break--that's such a classic tactic of my mother's that i'm thoroughly disgusted.

this is a fucked-up post, start to finish. i guess i am not ready to take time off from therapy. rather, i feel like i'm back at square one. argh.

update on Loopy's nephew

He was deeper asleep this morning, shallow-asleep this evening again. At one point he opened his eyes all the way and made a pretty normal facial expression...It was cool, just to see his regular face looking out from under all the tubes and tape. Not sure if it was a reflex or genuine response. But then he went to sleep again.

Everyone keeps telling us, he's "not out of the woods," "not over the hump," etc. And most directly, "It could still go either way." *sigh*

new template

whaddya think?

i know the horizontal photos at the top right go off the page (if you've got a vertical one, reload or just trust me on this); I tried to fix this, but the stupid $#$%@* Blogger templates all have page-defining graphics with set widths so it's hard to make the &#$%@ page wider. I could still fix it but it's annoying.

signs of spring

Today he's like, half-awake. He sometimes pats my hand or reaches to hold it. It's very endearing. "He always was very cuddly," muses Loopy, who no longer cries whenever I tell her about her nephew's status.

The nephew & I always got along fine, but we were never cuddly. This evidence suggests that we feel most affectionate when at least one of us is mostly asleep. But then, that's true of so many relationships, isn't it?

He also has been moving his leg around, and sometimes even answering yes/no questions by nodding or shaking his head ("Can you hear me?" (nods 'yes') "Are you awake?" (shakes head 'no').) It's really quite exciting. As are the moments when he sleepily tries to pull out the respirator or dialysis tubes.

So, another day past and he's still with us, and I'm almost giddy as I start to believe that he may really survive this. Knock wood, a lot.

We'll see.

rakin' in the big bucks now

Last year I made $436.93 in earned income. That's a $436.93 increase over the previous year. Pretty exciting.

'Course, it took me six weeks to make that, and I used to make that every 2.2 days. But a decimation of income (not to mention respect) are things you expect when you enter the teaching field.

So, here's to moving back into the ranks of breadwinners! Cheers!

---

Update on Loopy's nephew

Nothing much to say. Some things seem better, some things seem worse, some things seem the same. He's still asleep.

We hold his hand, we do jigsaw puzzles, we hold his hand, we read, we hold his hand, we go home to sleep and get up and do it again. And every morning when it's the alarm clock and not the phone that wakes us up, we are grateful.

I call Loopy with updates and she cries bitterly because she wants to be here with us. I wish she were.

If we haven't used up more than our share of your goodwill, prayers, support and encouragement, we could sure use some more...

At left, Ricky as a kid; apparently he was as sweet and sunny as he looks. His mom says, "he was my sunshine baby."

and may 2007 suck less than 2006

breaking news

on a random newswire that came up in a random search:

• 9:05 p.m.: Millions make New Year's resolutions
  
• 10:16 p.m.: Revelers ring in new year
  
• 10:29 p.m.: U.S. deaths in Iraq hit 3,000

and in other news...

here i am in hershey, pennsylvania (at least I am eating chocolate, my only nod to a new year's celebration), in a hotel across from the hospital, keeping daily vigil at the bedside of Loopy's nephew, who had a stroke just before Christmas and then, just as it seemed he was recovering from the stroke, came down with necrotizing fasciitis (also known as flesh-eating disease), a fast-spreading infection that can devour the whole body in a matter of hours.

fortunately they caught it quickly and he is young and mostly healthy, so the odds are somewhat in his favor, and, with the aid of massive antibiotics, he seems to be holding his own; yesterday we were feeling optimistic, but today there was a setback and a nurse explained to us that our optimism was premature; it could still go either way. this was all the more crushing because we were feeling hopeful yesterday. i don't know if it's better to know the truth or not.

i haven't blogged about it because i can't think of a way to talk about it that doesn't seem to sensationalize what has been happening, just because what's happening is so grotesque.

he used to read our blogs...he told Loopy how to reboot someone else's router when stealing wireless internet service.....o Ricky, I hope that sometime in 2007 you will be reading this and laughing at the scare you gave us.

gentle readers, i hope you have celebrated the new year in a happier way.