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waiting for the whoosh - badgergirl's journal

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  • Just when the universe cannot possibly get any more vindictive to best friend...it does. Best friend and mr best friend have two dogs. The agreement was one dog for each when the house sells. Mr best friend's dog was discovered to have a brain tumour last week. Lyla has weeks, maybe months to live. Terrible sadness for both of them. Best friend is really looking forward to living with her dog again now the house is selling. Best friend adores her dog, has gone through hell and high water with that pupster. Only, now it appears Sassy has kidney failure. She's dying. If she lasts the night best friend will have her put down tomorrow.

    I'm learning. Slowly. There is nothing to be done with grief. There's no help to give, no words to say. The only thing to do with grief is to sit with it. It can't be hidden; the subject cannot be changed; there's no relief to be found. So. I am sitting with best friend. The ocean and the earth's curvature are not barriers I allow myself to recognise. Her hand, her exquisite hand, is curled in mine. My heart is infinite and it is here to shelter her in her sadness. I can do that and hold small boy tight. (I'm on bath and bed duty tonight.) I've got all evening to send thoughts her way and guard her dreams.
    Last edited by badgergirl; 03-28-2013, 11:22 PM.
    I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

    Comment


    • You are right - there is nothing to be done but sit with it. Although, I make it a point to remind the kids that there was a whole pet lifetime of care and love and laughter, for both parties, animal and human. It does not reduce the number of tears by one teardrop, but it does provide a kind of mental balance to this transition all living things eventually make. The Family Crabbcakes has done this kind of thing four times now, so I feel for all of you.

      Karmic hugs for the puppy and you and your best friend, badger.
      I have a mantra that I have spouted for years... "If I eat right, I feel right. If I feel right, I exercise right. If I exercise right, I think right. If I think right, I eat right..." Phil-SC

      Comment


      • Originally posted by Crabbcakes View Post
        Karmic hugs for the puppy and you and your best friend, badger.
        Thank you. She is losing a close friend just at the point when she was looking forward to being reunited with her. It's so cruel the way the timing has panned out. I'm fearful that she will go into a full-scale meltdown, which with us can be pretty dramatic (in different ways, but just as damaging).

        So I sit. And I make sure I'm online all the hours I can be. Speaking of - shouldn't you be in bed?

        In other news, I sent Frank Turner a thank you email as best friend and I have both found his song 'I am disappeared' cathartic. I don't usually do that sort of thing.
        I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

        Comment


        • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
          So I sit. And I make sure I'm online all the hours I can be. Speaking of - shouldn't you be in bed?

          In other news, I sent Frank Turner a thank you email as best friend and I have both found his song 'I am disappeared' cathartic. I don't usually do that sort of thing.
          It is 6:35 a.m. here as I type this sentence. I just woke up, only to find my iPad sticking me in the back, as I had fallen asleep playing Angry Birds on it and no one noticed the thing with me, so I just logged on to see what was up.

          As for thanking artists, I do it whenever it is heartfelt to that degree and I can figure out how to send the note. I figure I would really like it if I were an artist, to get that kind of personal feedback.

          Come to think of it, waking up to blue light isn't very Primal, is it?
          Last edited by Crabbcakes; 03-29-2013, 04:36 AM. Reason: I scratched a paragraph. It can wait until later.
          I have a mantra that I have spouted for years... "If I eat right, I feel right. If I feel right, I exercise right. If I exercise right, I think right. If I think right, I eat right..." Phil-SC

          Comment


          • Grief. If i know something about the animal is that it got to be left out at some point.
            Crying, screaming ,cursing, talking. Talking. The soul eroding puritan concept started by the jurk of Martin Luther
            has fucked up generations. Keep a grief inside and it will eat you, like a rat in your belly.

            Comment


            • I open my email with trepidation, fearing best friend has had a car accident either on the way to or way home from the vet, but no. Only one death.

              Frank Turner wrote back thanking me for thanking him. I smile at husband. Just you wait! From little acorns mighty oak trees grow. Husband chuckles: good luck with that! Uh-huh.

              I scan the headlines of our favourite newspaper. On the floor at my feet small boy is having an enormous Playmobile knight fight. Meanwhile his parents get great amusement from the story of Pope Francis washing women's feet. Oh noes! The dirty women! And I am reminded for a moment of all the things we do share and am filled with love. Small boy holds up a knight with three feathers in his cap. Husband laughs, looks at me and says Bird Raymond.

              Just a normal Saturday morning, then.

              RIP Sassy
              Last edited by badgergirl; 03-29-2013, 02:34 PM.
              I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

              Comment


              • Things that interest me

                Music (and videos) from other cultures.

                I think, when you cannot hear the message, the iconography is far starker. And, instead of mocking or scratching my head, I try to see where (from the dominant world culture - which happens to be American, I would guess) these tropes have come from. When the message is obscured the meaning comes through loud and clear.

                And. Eastern European poverty looks a lot like English (as I have experienced it) poverty: sand, sadness, sketchy aping of one's betters...
                Oasis fashions and Paul Weller hair. out of synch? Yes, of course.


                When I was in Greece we were all big fans of 'Pig Sluts', as we called them...and oh dear god the first track sends me straight back there:
                If you want to know what you're singing along to (the one bit I know? DTipota = nothing):




                Still with me?
                Here's a bonus track, Polish again, I think.
                Last edited by badgergirl; 03-29-2013, 08:21 PM.
                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                Comment


                • Originally posted by Crabbcakes View Post
                  You are right - there is nothing to be done but sit with it.
                  I agree with Crabbcakes. I read before than any emotion experienced completely is joy. I totally agree with that. At times when I've actually allowed myself to experience my sorrow, I've realised how much beauty there is in that emotion.

                  Life is so complex, so haunting, so painful, yet full of beauty...

                  That's what makes it magical.
                  "I think the basic anti-aging diet is also the best diet for prevention and treatment of diabetes, scleroderma, and the various "connective tissue diseases." This would emphasize high protein, low unsaturated fats, low iron, and high antioxidant consumption, with a moderate or low starch consumption.

                  In practice, this means that a major part of the diet should be milk, cheese, eggs, shellfish, fruits and coconut oil, with vitamin E and salt as the safest supplements."

                  - Ray Peat

                  Comment


                  • Wish me luck on the compliance front!

                    Comment


                    • I want to write, but find myself at a loss.

                      Jam. Shall we talk about Jam? I met him when I was 17 at (where else?) Bogeys. I was a semi-regular at that point - the joys of fake ID. He was 19 and already a reasonably hardened drinker. First reciprocated love Jam. It's so long ago and the memories and reasons have blurred. He was sweet and being with him was joyful. Profoundly dyslexic and cripplingly food phobic (he had a list of about ten things he ate), there was a child-likeness to him - the world was still undiscovered. Whereas I read, even if I hadn't travelled, he operated in a cloud of blissful ignorance, expecting the world to fall in line and be charmed by his comical insouciance. By and large it was.

                      Things at home weren't so great. A difficult child, I'd matured into a gobby and truculent teen. My parents simply could not keep up with me as I argued them into the ground, slammed the door behind me and disappeared for another night out. One morning, I'd slept at Jam's, I came home to find a policeman sitting on the sofa. My mother sobbed, 'we were pleased when you were coming home at 3am.' I can see her point now. I moved out soon afterwards.

                      The final year of my A Levels was probably not the best time to be setting up home with an alcoholic, pot-smoking sheet metal worker. Young love, eh? My dad found us some furniture. I bought Willow pattern plates. I went to school and probably studied a little, but it wasn't enough. My grades were not great, but I got into uni despite of them.

                      I remember that first year together as a wonderful one - happily marinating in body fluids. There was no sense of seriousness or shame to the endeavour - emotions that have appeared since in later relationships. We set about discovering each other and ourselves with all the glee and curiosity of dogs sniffing each other - there was no great emotional investment in the act, although we did love each other. I gave him a finger of fudge (really, someone in the marketing department of Cadbury's should be given a dressing down) the morning after a drunken encounter led me to take an A level (London call girls offer O and A levels - how very old school, I wonder what GCSEs and the International Bac might mean). But none of this - and we talked, watched and learned (I read erotica to him because he couldn't read it himself with any fluency) together - meant anything more than two bodies bumping together in more and more convoluted ways. It didn't touch us, or at least it didn't touch me.

                      I often wish I could back to that place: my body and the pleasure it brings others a kind of spectator sport. I'm not sure at what point I began to feel connected to my flesh so that sex became an emotive act. I met husband at 24, perhaps he taught me.

                      Jam and I broke up at the end of the first year of uni. He'd never found his feet in the northern mill town and had spiralled into a deep depression. I couldn't carry him any longer (and perhaps he was tired of the inadequacies of my support act).

                      Months later, back on the Iggles, I bumped into him in (where else?) Bogeys. He was wearing a badge that proclaimed that the drugs do work and was clearly off his tits. I harangued him for hours (I expect I was drunk myself) on why he'd slept with a lookylikey after our break up and how angry I was about this and that. Eventually a friend of his told me to get lost, not undeserved.

                      Years later beauty therapist friend bumped into him; surprisingly not at Bogeys. He recounted to her at some considerable length that I was the best sex he'd ever had, which she then relayed to me looking at me sideways with an odd, calculating look (I do not look like a wild and crazy sex goddess). Perhaps he'd told her about the time we were pulled over by the police for 'speeding' - Jam went and spoke to the officer while I hurriedly got dressed before he came to the car door. I wish I could return the compliment, but to me it was only ever a game of Twister. A challenge to see how the jigsaw could be made to fit together in different ways.

                      And at no point during those two years did I orgasm. I had no idea what I was missing.

                      But there are days that I miss him. His sunny, dirty mind and his 19-year-old passionate exuberance. He was such a simple soul.

                      Last edited by badgergirl; 03-30-2013, 10:45 PM.
                      I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                      Comment


                      • Feeding thoughts

                        It has not escaped me that this is a food journal with no food in it. I've been holding steady at my 'chunky' weight, mainly owing to regular alcohol and no exercise. I'm definitely using my 20% and I'm not skipping meals very often.

                        I'm waiting to see if something 'clicks' and I no longer feel a raging thirst (despite frequent binge drinking, in my younger days I never used to crave alcohol like I do now). I woke up this morning, after yesterday spent picking at chocs culminating in a mini egg feeding frenzy (and 3/4 bottle of pinot noir, roast beef, brussels and beetroot), feeling agnostic towards all food and drink. Coffee and yoghurt and I'm on my way.

                        The reminiscing here is helping in other ways: it helps me pinpoint what is missing from life at the moment and helps me find words before bedtime chats with husband - a practice run.

                        When husband and I met we had reached the same point from opposite directions - I was calming down and he was ramping up. We often find our frames of reference, life experiences and so forth are entirely alien to each other. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it does make communicating and understanding each other more complicated. And, as our relationship has progressed - 11 years and counting, we've grown into each other in some respects (tangled roots) and away from each other in others (spreading branches).
                        Last edited by badgergirl; 04-01-2013, 12:32 AM.
                        I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                        Comment


                        • I totally agree about the power of the journalling: for me it's helping to draw connections between different aspects of my life, and coherently formulate (and share) thoughts that might otherwise just fester in my head. Plus it's great to share and get feedback.

                          In short - screw the food, write what you like
                          "I think the basic anti-aging diet is also the best diet for prevention and treatment of diabetes, scleroderma, and the various "connective tissue diseases." This would emphasize high protein, low unsaturated fats, low iron, and high antioxidant consumption, with a moderate or low starch consumption.

                          In practice, this means that a major part of the diet should be milk, cheese, eggs, shellfish, fruits and coconut oil, with vitamin E and salt as the safest supplements."

                          - Ray Peat

                          Comment


                          • Today I ate chocolate, steak and beetroot and took to my bed. Can sugar be a turn on? I was supposed to attend a third birthday, but instead I stayed home and pleased myself.

                            When I was a young 'un I made a conscious decision that it was far better to regret what I had done than what I hadn't. I made it my mission to live life in such a way that when it came to the gin, cake and rocking chair years I'd be able to look back with wry fondness and rock that chair just a little bit harder than all the other old dears. I'm currently failing in that mission. And I regret, well, I have regrets of omission and they burn more than any of my fond regrets of experience - even Greek Andy and boy was he a regretful choice.

                            Tomorrow I have a date with Frank Turner and a Melbourne mosh pit. I'm going to pogo around the place like a complete lunatic.
                            I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                            Comment


                            • My only regrets are regrets of omission. And I have a lot of them, particularly from the last two years.
                              "I think the basic anti-aging diet is also the best diet for prevention and treatment of diabetes, scleroderma, and the various "connective tissue diseases." This would emphasize high protein, low unsaturated fats, low iron, and high antioxidant consumption, with a moderate or low starch consumption.

                              In practice, this means that a major part of the diet should be milk, cheese, eggs, shellfish, fruits and coconut oil, with vitamin E and salt as the safest supplements."

                              - Ray Peat

                              Comment


                              • Originally posted by YogaBare View Post
                                My only regrets are regrets of omission. And I have a lot of them, particularly from the last two years.
                                I don't think I've had any of note until now. Oh my goodness, does it ITCH.
                                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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