I've heard that some Internet Explorer users are having a hard time viewing el bloggo here; that the columns have suddenly become all goofy and mismashed.

Well, I'm here to tell you that my devoted tech team (namely, the husband) is not working on the problem. Why is he not working on it, you, my devoted Cake Eater readers---all five of you---ask, in a petulant, toe-tapping manner? Well, because we've had a hard time sussing out just what the hell is going on over at Munuviana, and rather than figure out just what that evil mastermind, Pixy, is up to, we're going to move the blog to a different host. Honestly, I think this is the easier thing to do in this situation, for everyone involved. Things have changed a great deal in my three years on moo knew and it's just not the easiest and most effective way to blog anymore.

Now, I don't want anyone to think I'm knocking moo knew. It's been great while it's lasted, but it's time to take control of my destiny, and move where I have a bit more control over things.

I'll keep blogging here in the meantime, but expect big things in the days and weeks to come. Like archives from the very beginning of the Cake Eater era! A new layout! And some added functionality, too, because the husband is, ultimately, a geek and he likes toys. All in all, I think it will be good.

The only question that remains is, will you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, follow me over to the new Cake Eater pad?

I sincerely hope so.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:05 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 i'll follow! will there be an announcement via email or post? also, how's the snow over there? it's finally stopped 3 hours west...

Posted by: amelie at December 01, 2007 09:27 PM (EpZn6)

2 As of right now, I'll be announcing it by post. I don't know when the move will happen, just that it will. We wound up with about four or five inches of the stuff...which is a far cry from what they were predicting. Which is JUST FINE with me.

Posted by: Kathy at December 02, 2007 11:23 PM (vmyHK)

3 I'd follow you anywhere! And, here in Southern Wisconsin we have at least 8 inches between Saturday and last night, 12 inches at home. More coming tomorrow.

Posted by: Phoenix at December 05, 2007 09:36 AM (4N2f4)

4 We will follow!!! Glad to see the site looking much better than it had -- I had a hard time reading the post and now I am catching up!!! Just let us know when and where and we will be there.

Posted by: The Lovely Janis at December 05, 2007 11:23 AM (KZDi+)

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The latest Cigar Aficionado landed at the Cake Eater pad a while back, but it's finally just made its way into the reading queue. Tom Selleck's the cover boy this month, and I'm amazed at how well he's held up. He's still cute, even without the Ferrari, the aviator shades and the flowered shirt. He's still got that impish grin and those dimples that made me swoon when I was in seventh grade. But, most importantly, it appears the dude has a brain!

Some bits and bobs (that I have painstakingly typed out for you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, because Cigar Aficionado doesn't put its articles up online and that ixsne's the cut and paste option.) that might interest you:

{...}"He makes you want to do the best you possibly can and encourages you by example. If he ever chose to run for office, well, he has the charisma, the knowledge---and I'm talking global knowledge---and the wit to make things happen. We joke about our votes canceling each other's out, [and} his take on global affairs and politics are a lot different than mine," Brandman says, smiling, "but over the years as we've discussed things and debated them, Tom's caused me to look at things differently---not necessarily to vote differently!---but to see things from a different perspective. He's broadened my own awareness of things, broadened my perspective, and that's a good thing."

Selleck groans out loud when Brandman's comment "if he ever chose to run for politics..." is passed by him for a response and it's obvious that it's opened up a can of worms that he's simultaneously eager and loath to talk about. Selleck's political leanings have been commented on by the media---both accurately and not, says Selleck---constantly over the last decade or so and, frankly, he's a little tired of the whole thing.

"I'm not politically active; I'm politically minded," Selleck's insisted in recent years, and if a review of the actor's political donations over the last decade or so turns up a number of campaign contributions to Republican candidates, so, he points out, do donations to Democratic candidates. He's not ashamed of his conservative leanings in an industry that's heavily liberal, he says, but he's also tired---really, really tired---of being characterized as something he's not, and includes being, exclusively behind Republican support issues or thinking himself of running for office.

"I'm a Libertarian at heart, although it's not practical, [and] I'm a Conservative---little 'L', little 'C'---and I've been a registered independent well over a decade," says Selleck. "I don't fit into the box that [people] want to put me in."

{...}"Look, I've had a couple times people make a phone [call] saying...'we want you to run for governor,' And I said, "Why? Do you know how I'd govern or do you just think I'm famous enough to get elected? I'm not interested. I'm an actor.' It's vaguely flattering, but that being said---I mean, it's come up endlessly in every [film press] junket I've ever been on. You know, I finally had to say, 'Look, I don't want to talk about politics. I'm not running for office. I'm flattered you think I'm worthy, I guess that's implied in your question, but I'm an actor. That doesn't mean I'm not interested in politics, the subject, or that I don't vote, but...I'm an actor!"

If there's one political---or politically correct/incorrect---subject that Selleck doesn't mind discussing openly, it's that of ever-increasing bans on personal behavior, including smoking.

"It's not good to smoke a lot. It's not. But when people move from convincing to mandates, it's just not my deal. And I don't think that is what a free society is about. Government has a function in education but not [in] propagandizing, and that is not a simple world. That world is messier. That world allows for human failure and that world allows for messy solutions, which we ought to get really comfortable with if we want to stay free. It's real simple to practically abolish speeding if you apply the death penalty to it.

"Look," Selleck continues, "we don't stay free with what we're doing now. There's just no end to it [and] it's a question of what responsibilities we give up. My concept of society, which I tell kids as often as possible, is what they should be most grateful for in a free society is the first to fail. Which sounds kind of weird. But if you don't have the right to fail and you're protected from failure, you can't truly succeed. You're then stuck in this great gray middle where you're giving up responsibility for the perceived benefits that come from government, [and] that's a very slippery slope. Do you remember when the seat belt law came into being, and how every politician in the country would say: 'It's a law but it's really [just] a guideline and officer would never pull somebody over for not wearing a seatbelt?'

"Then you start, if you live long enough, to see the slippery slope and an erosion. That doesn't mean people shouldn't wear seat belts. It doesn't mean cars shouldn't come with seat belts, [but] you end up with this 'nanny state' and people don't see the correlation between that and all aspects of life. You can find a 'good reason' to prescribe anything.

"I think free society is supposed to be messier than that. Solutions to social problems have to be. I'm not on a crusade, it's just the way I think, and I don't know, I think we need, in the words of the most politically incorrect [laughs] character I can think of, Jack Nicholson [in A Few Good Men}, 'You need me on that wall.'"

I like a man with a brain and a love of liberty. And dimples.

Can't forget the dimples.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:42 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Robbo reminds us that today is the 133rd anniversary of the birth of Sir Winston Churchill.

In a related aside, for my birthday, I received a very cool gift: The Making of the Finest Hour. This is a marvelous book for anyone who wants an insight into the way dear old Winston's mind worked. Facsimiles of the first and final draft of that marvelous speech are published in the book, and they're not just any old facsimiles---they're facsimiles of Winston's drafts. With corrections and additions in his very own handwriting. Also included is a CD recording of the BBC radio broadcast, when Winston delivered the speech to the House of Commons on June 18, 1940.

Despite the fact I've had the book for almost a month, I haven't delved too deeply into it just yet, mostly, because I still haven't the brain power to give it the attention it deserves, yet I have been savoring it, picking it up, reading a bit, and then putting it back in its place on the dining room table. I'm sure the husband thinks I haven't read it at all yet, because it doesn't look like it's moved at all, but tisn't true. It's just one of those books you take your time to work through, even when you don't have chemo brain. The reasoning behind some of his revisions is obvious; on others, however, they really make you wonder at how brilliant the man was, at how he knew he could achieve policy goals with a rework of a single sentence. Edward R. Murrow commented at the time, "He mobilized the English language and sent it into battle," and it's absolutely true. Which is particularly amazing when you keep in mind what was going on at the time in terms of Dunkirk and the Battle of Britain, and that Churchill probably had very little time on his hands for speech editing. He used everything he had at his disposal, and if that included the language, so be it.

This book has the Cake Eater Seal of Approval. If you've got a Winston-admirer on your holiday shopping list, this is the perfect gift for them.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:35 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Sweet.

If the title line didn't tip you off, and are wondering what the link is about, well, Denver is my nephew.

UPDATE: The Cake Eater Father informs me that Denver almost aced one of his college entrance exams, as well as being a football star. Last I heard, he was taking both the ACT and the SAT, so I don't know which one it was, and I'm not likely to find out because I'm not going to bother emailing my sister, Denver's mom, as she has a spotty record at replying. But, still, impressive, no? Particularly when you keep in mind the kid has had major surgery in the past six months to correct a serious pulmonary problem.

Methinks the boy is headed for college scholarship land.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:50 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Did you see this on Friday? No? Well I didn't either. But I wish I had.

Yes, Eric, Boulder does have a lot of hippies.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:56 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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If you're going to be in London on December 18th-20th, and want to knock out some of your holiday shopping...you should drop by the Savoy Hotel, where, apparently, everything must go.

The Savoy Sale, to be conducted by Bonhams, will feature stylish items of furniture with impeccable provenance at affordable prices. The furniture to be sold, which includes lighting, mirrors, works of art, and silver plate, will all be offered at “no reserve”, which means that items could go for as little as £20. However, some of the more important furnishings are expected to fetch in excess of £15,000.

Bonhams’ Director of The Savoy Sale, Harvey Cammell, says: “The auction presents everyone around the world with a “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunity to acquire an extraordinary range of iconic items from one of the most famous hotels in the world.”

The three-day sale is expected to fetch in excess of £1 million. The majority of lots consist of furnishings from 215 bedrooms and suites, including the famous Monet Suite, as well as The Royal Opera House Suite and The Richard Harris Suite, in which the famous actor lived for a while. In addition, selected items from The Savoy Hotel’s public areas including The Lobby, The Upper Thames Foyer, The Thames Foyer, The Beaufort Room, The River Restaurant, The Manhattan and Parlour Bars and The Abraham Lincoln Room will be auctioned.{...}

They've shut the hotel down for the next year to rehab it. Given the current state of design style and taste that's happening in London right now, God only knows what it will look like when it's done. If you fancy yourself a preserver of style and taste and all things decorous, you might want to pop by and pick some stuff up.

Besides, there aren't any reserves. You could, conceivably, get something on the cheap. Which is more than I can say about actually paying to stay at the Savoy, which is anything but.

Posted by: Kathy at 04:38 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm back, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

I know. You were missing me, right? You could barely get through the day without me and my incredibly wise and informative posts, right? You're breathing a sigh of relief that I'm back at the keyboard this fine and chilly Monday morning, right?

Heh. {wink, wink, nudge, nudge}

Whilst you were gorging yourself on turkey and all the assorted side dishes, the husband and I were doing the same. Only in Texas, where the husband's family now resides. His sister and her family moved there about a year and a half ago, and his parents followed her shortly thereafter. Grandparents and Grandkiddies have been reunited and all is well in the Ft. Worth suburbs. We got around to visiting them over the holiday ("It's about time, too!" according to my mother-in-law, who sometimes forgets that airways and highways go in both directions and are not, in fact, one way.) and had a good time seeing everyone and getting caught up while eating way entirely too much food.

Two eventful things happened whilst we were in Tejas. First off, it appears we had to travel to Texas to get our first taste of snow. Yes, that's right. It snowed. In Texas. On Thanksgiving day. The kids were ecstatic and soaked completely by the time darkness fell. Second, my brother-in-law works as a computer enginerd for Lockheed Martin, and he was kind enough to take us on a tour of the manufacturing facilities for the building he works in. This building is one of five or six---and they're each well over a mile long, but, as the brother-in-law informed us, weren't quite big enough to get this particular bomber out the door without having to maneuver the wings in a diagonal fashion.

It was very cool to see how they put the planes together and how they have the manufacturing processes organized. In my brother-in-law's building we got to see F-16 wings being put together, the mid-section of an F-22 Raptor being readied for shipping to another Lockheed plant in Georgia and, wonder of wonders and EASILY the coolest thing of the day, an F-35 being wired up. I should also mention this was the very first F-35 with STOVL capabilities that was being constructed, right in front of our very eyes.

Which was suh-weet, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

The brother-in-law was disappointed that the engines weren't out on display, too. They had been the week before, but no longer. We weren't disappointed at all because what we got to see was impressive enough in itself. Apparently, in the next couple of weeks it will be finished. Everyone who was working on wiring it up was "The A Team" according to the brother-in-law, because it was the first. They've been working around the clock, evidently, to get it ready for its first flight. Supposedly, in a few years they're going to produce one F-35 a day at this facility. While that was hard to imagine, I suppose they'll manage to get it done. If nothing else, it was an interesting experience in seeing my tax dollars at work. The sheer number of people and material they need to put one of these things together---and keep in mind this is with automated processes that are much more efficient than those of years past---is astonishing.

So, if you know someone who works at Lockheed and can get you in the door, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I would highly recommend the experience. It was very, very cool to see the end result of the Joint Strike Fighter competition.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:22 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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It seems like a good chunk of Central and South America have gone cuckoo for cocoa puffs social justice.

I say, "Let 'em."

We, meaning the US, didn't let them satisfy their teenage lust to date Che Guevara back in the 70's in the name of the Domino Theory. We generally don't worry about communists anymore because, ahem, we know socialism doesn't work.

Because they have failed to learn this lesson, when their doomed relationship with the corpse of Che fails, and they come crying to us, to help their economies out, we should let them rot.

I will fully admit that I might be a bit harsh in my evaluation, but screw it. I'm sick of that fat fuck Chavez and all those who are so easily duped into believing what he says. He wants them to be poor. They readily follow him. They should get what they so patently want.

I mean, honestly, who are we to impose our imperialist vision on these people?

Posted by: Kathy at 09:44 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Just slip a sable one of these under the tree...

...been an awfully good girl, Santa Baby...

Posted by: Kathy at 09:30 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Move along, now. There's nothing to see here, folks.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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NSFW disclaimer is attached. At least not without headphones.

Heh.

As a somewhat related aside, I just learned the other day that the songwriter character in Rear Window was also Dave---and was a songwriter in real life, with such hits to his name as Come-on-a-My House....and many, many more.

Interesting, no?

{Hat tip: Mr. H.}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:03 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Suh-weet.

{hat tip: Fraters}

Also, while we're on the subject of sweet, sweet violence in hockey, meet Derek Boogard, Left Wing for the Minnesota Wild. This dude loves fighting. He's 6'7", 275 lbs. and can't quite seem to keep himself out of trouble.

This is from the season opener against the Blackhawks. He obviously is pwn3d in this one, but that's hardly typical.

I think I'm in love.

And he can skate, too.

Also, in a somewhat related fashion, if you haven't been over to hockeyfights.com, you might want to go. It appears to be your one-stop-shop for blood on ice.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:28 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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First of all, a very large 'thank you' from moi to any and all who have served our country, and to those who are currently doing the same. We owe you a debt so great, much like the current federal debt, I doubt it will ever be fully repaid.

Thank you.

Second, I will point you to an interesting opinion piece by Niall Ferguson from this weekend's Financial Times. Ferguson makes the claim that too much remembrance is a bad thing.

A small sampling:

{...}All acts of remembrance are religious in origin. The great monotheistic faiths practise ritualised commemoration of their founders, their heroes or martyrs, their trials and tribulations. In any global list of holidays, it is still the holy days that predominate. A characteristic feature of modernity has been the effort of political entities – first empires, then nation states and more recently political parties and pressure groups – to create secular versions of commemoration. The British remembrance of the first world war is just one of the more successful bids to sacralise the political.

Commemoration and remembrance are, you might be forgiven for assuming, better than amnesia. But they should not be confused with memory or folklore, much less with history. Nor should we overlook the fact that, in certain contexts, official remembrance may have the effect (often intentional) of keeping old grievances and ancient hatreds from fading.

Our memories are more or less spontaneously constructed as we store experience in our brains, though we are in some measure taught how to do this (how to think historically about our own lives) as we grow up. Folklore is what our relatives and older friends tell us about the past. History is – or should be – the accumulation of verifiable knowledge about the past as it is researched by professional scholars and disseminated through books, other media and institutions of learning.

An act of commemoration is something else. It is usually initiated by elites (King George V took a keen interest in Remembrance). It nearly always has a purpose other than not forgetting something or someone. And yet its success or failure – measured by its endurance over time – depends on how far it satisfies human appetite for myth. Precisely for that reason, commemoration can involve the systematic misrepresentation, or even outright invention, of past events.

In the case of Remembrance, the mythical invention was that the industrialised slaughter of four and a quarter years had been a worthwhile sacrifice for the sake of “civilisation”. The possibility was firmly suppressed – though raised at the time by a rebellious minority – that the war could have been avoided and had done nothing to resolve the fundamental imbalance of power on the European continent. It was precisely this insistence that the war had been a necessary tragedy, not a futile blunder, that gave Remembrance its potency. Without the tragic undertone, the rituals and symbols might have lacked force.{...}

Go read the whole thing.

I can see his point but I'm not sure he drove it home in the correct way.

Discuss.

Third, also in this weekend's FT is Mrs. Moneypenny's column, which, for my devoted UK Cake Eater readers, might be of interest. Mrs. Moneypenny, for those who might not have heard of her, is a weekly columnist in the FT and is an investment banker (I think. That she deals with finance that's WAY above my head is pretty much all I can say for certain.) with a fondness for the Chelsea Garden show, Krug Champagne, and shooting parties. She is married and a mother to three offspring, who are named Cost Centre #1, Cost Centre #2, and, obviously, Cost Center #3, due to their expensive nature. I usually enjoy Mrs. M.'s column, as she makes some rather salient points about life.

Anyway, Mrs. M. is on a bit of a crusade. To wit:

{...}You may recall from a previous column that I remain astonished that Sir Keith Park is not personally commemorated – Park ran the air defence of London and south-east England, and it was largely thanks to him that so much of London, including so many Wren churches, remains with us today. The Battle of Britain monument on the Embankment bears his name, but no statue of the man himself exists anywhere.

Since I wrote that piece, on Battle of Britain Day, things have moved on. A benefactor has offered (through the letters column of the FT) to underwrite the cost of erecting a statue, and a campaign is under way to position it on the vacant fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, at the heart of the city that Park saved and within sight of New Zealand House (Sir Keith was born in New Zealand).

Trafalgar Square is under the control of the Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, and he has delegated the decision on what occupies the fourth plinth to a group of commissioners, who seem convinced that what London needs is a series of increasingly abstract works of art. None of those commissioners could enjoy a free London now were it not for Sir Keith and those who served in the RAF in the summer of 1940. Perhaps we, and they, should listen to our monarch and thank those who fought so hard for our freedom – and what better way to do so than with a statue of Sir Keith Park?

To join me in campaigning for the statue, write to the Fourth Plinth Commissioning Group, c/o Greater London Authority, City Hall, The QueenÂ’s Walk, London SE1 2AA.

You can read more about Sir Keith here.

I'd write a letter to the Fourth Plinth Commissioning Group, but I doubt, with a Minnesota postmark on the envelope, they'd pay much attention. So, if you live in the UK and think that the gentleman who saved London from burning to the ground deserves his own statue in Trafalgar Square, by all means send them a letter stating so.

If not, well, you've got issues. But I hereby authorize you to send them a letter for no other reason than to verbally whip them for organizing under a name like "Fourth Plinth Commissioning Group." Bleh.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:36 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...it's my birthday, too, yeah.

No, really. It is. On this date in 1970, at 12:03 am, I was born. The Cake Eater parents tell me it was election day, which sounds about right, I suppose. Now, I've never divulged this information before, my devoted Cake Eater readers, simply because I didn't think it was that big of a deal; that turning one year older wasn't anything worthy of a blog post. This was usually because I was cranky about it and I wanted to spare you. I wasn't a big fan of aging, that another year had gone by and I hadn't accomplished what I wanted to, and I felt old so much of the time, it seemed, particularly on my birthday, that I just didn't want to go there.

Then I got cancer.

I was made to realize that I'm a pup when it comes right down to it. There's nothing quite like having the (mostly) elderly denizens of the treatment room all shake their heads at you as you walk to your plush, vinyl coated recliner, whispering the words, "So young," as they tut-tut in disapproval to drive the point home. It's made me change my mind about turning another year older. I'm now extremely glad I'm turning another year older. That was a bit dicey there for a time. We didn't know if number thirty-six was going to be my last birthday, or if I was going to be lucky enough to reach thirty-seven. But now it seems that I'll reach thirty-eight, thirty-nine and so on and so forth, provided I don't get run down by a bus in the meantime. For this I'm grateful. Hence, it would be extremely unworthy to say I'm turning twenty-nine for the ninth time, like I normally do, instead of just fessing up to my actual age. So, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm THIRTY-FREAKIN'-SEVEN.

And I'm happy with it.

This does not, however, mean that I'm going to lose my addiction to anti-aging creams. Sheesh. As if. I'm in freakin' menopause right now. I need this addiction to continue apace otherwise I'm going to look more than thirty-seven, if you take my meaning. And that might just send all this birthday related happiness straight down the toity.

Anyway, every year, I try and muster up enough self-awareness to figure out just what I've learned over the preceding year, about myself and the world I live in, and the people with whom I share this planet. This means acknowledging the good and the bad about all of these things. I always hope there's more good than bad in the list, but sometimes that ain't always the case. This year, however, there is more good than bad. Surprisingly. Here's what I've learned for the school year 2006-2007, in no particular order:

• That when you're in pain, you should go to the doctor. No ifs ands or buts about it. Because Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.
• In some ways, I am stronger than I thought I was. I've had some rather nasty curveballs thrown at me this year, and even though I might have struck out on some of them, and, conversely, hit others out of the park, it turns out that, for the most part, I'm pretty happy with a decent base hit most of the time. That doesn't mean I wouldn't mind an intentional walk here or there, ya dig?
• In some ways, I am weaker than I thought I was. Physically speaking, I was surprised at just how weak my body became in the wake of the surgery and the chemo. I'd never been through that before, and I now know how fragile a thing good health can be. But what was really surprising to me were the minor irritants, like hot flashes and night sweats, and how I reacted to them. I sometimes sweat the small stuff. (Ha, ha, get it?) And I shouldn't. I should have a better sense of perspective and that is something I have to work on.
• If your veins roll, like mine do, do not under any circumstances let someone draw blood (stick an IV, or anything needle related) without telling them so. Even if they've already drawn blood from you a thousand times and you know their grandchildren's names. Remind them, otherwise you WILL have a bruise the size of Glacier National Park on your arm.
• The Discovery Channel---and all their other channels---is a wonderful thing.
• That confession is good for the soul.
• That Chuck Palahniuk gave me the tools to deal with baldness. Space Monkey, indeed. And if I ever meet Brad Pitt, I'm going to ask him to slap me on the head and say it.
• And while we're on the subject of hair loss, that, sometimes, it ain't that bad. Think of all the razor burn you're saving yourself when you go through chemo.
• That to have faith means extending some on occasion. Even if it's hard and goes against the grain to do so.
• That when someone presents you with a worst-case scenario, you should not act like Polyanna and pretend it will all turn out for the best. Do not ever lose hold of reality and live in La-La-Land because you think it's an easier, more comfortable residence for the time being. Leaving La-La Land generally means you land back in reality, flat on your ass, aching from the landing and wondering what the hell you did to deserve such ignominious treatment. It's easier to just stay in reality. And less painful, too.
• That learning to live with permanent unknowns is like sleeping with ghosts floating all around you. You will never know these ghosts, their stories or why they're haunting you. You simply have to come to terms with their presence. Acknowledge them, but don't spend too many nights, lying in bed, staring as they float over you. They will always be there. Get used to it. Roll over and fall asleep. It's all you can do.
• That smoking is very bad for your chest. And Mr. Osato believes in a healthy chest.
• That I've come a long way as a human being this past year, but I've still got a ways to go to be the human being I want to be.
• That some wounds go deeper than you ever thought possible. I can't have kids now. This slices so deeply that I'm not sure I'm really feeling the full extent of the pain. It's like the person with a deep cut, but who keeps saying to the ER people, "No, really, I'm fine. I don't feel a thing. Go help the other people. I can wait." I'm not dealing with this well. I know I'm not. And I don't want to deal with it. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want it mentioned in any way, shape or form. It's there and I simply have to learn to live with it. It's too painful to delve too deeply about. I wonder, sometimes, if I'm hampering my recovery by not dealing with it. Then I ruthlessly shove those thoughts aside, because I don't want to deal with it. I just do. not. want. to. deal. with. it. Because when I have to deal with it, when I can't avoid it anymore, it simply hurts too much. Maybe, at some point in the future, it won't and I'll be able to heal. I don't think that's going to happen any time in the near future, however, because I simply want to get on with things. I've spent enough time being sick this year that I don't want to waste any more on recovering from the nervous breakdown that's bound to happen if I let everything loose. I'll hold it in, until I feel I can't. That's all I can do for the time being.

  I sometimes feel a vicious anger toward God for what's happened. But then I always forgive Him. He's got his plan. I simply need to work on adapting myself to it. The fault is with me, not Him. There's a reason for everything; you just sometimes never know what that reason may be. It's less about figuring things out, than adapting to them. I'm less inclined to cut human beings the same amount of slack, however. Why this is, I have no idea. It just is. Anyone who hears my tale of woe decides on the spot that the best thing they can tell me that we "can always adopt" is bound to get, at the very least, a nasty look. As if this is the simple, elegant solution to this problem. One that will make everyone happy. That bees will again buzz, birds will fly, the air will be warm and kissed with sweet smelling breezes and all will be right with the world. It ain't the solution. For many and varied reasons. I've learned that most of the the people who tell me this, generally speaking, want to live in a world where there isn't injustice and pain and all manner of horrible things. They say these idiotic words not to make me feel better, but to make themselves feel better. As if, by saying them, they will restore balance to a world where crazy shit happens for no reason whatsoever. It doesn't work that way. Unfortunately. There are no simple, elegant solutions that restore balance to the universe. Ever.

• That you'll never appreciate your appetite so much as when you lose it. For days on end. Food is your friend. While food may bring as much pleasure as not, pleasure is not the main reason we eat. We eat to give our bodies energy to work properly. Nourishment, in other words, is the main reason we shove food down our gullets. I wonder sometimes if we haven't forgotten that bit.
• That while some people are asses, and can't help themselves from being so, they can also be so wonderful that you feel very humble when you reach the immeasurable depths of their kindness. I've been bathed in kindness this year. From people I know and love, and from complete strangers, as well. I feel blessed that I was able to experience it, because it kept me from becoming a hard-hearted-Harriet in the face of all that's been thrown at me.
• That "life is short, make the most of it," may be yet another annoying cliche, but it's like all other cliches---they're annoying because there's more than a grain of truth in them.

And that should about sum it up, my devoted Cake Eater readers. We'll just have to wait and see if year thirty-seven has as many interesting lessons to learn.

{insert wiggling of lush, fully grown-in eyebrows here}

Posted by: Kathy at 02:09 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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