Unringing the Bell

Correction: Sorry!

Sorry to everyone who emailed me!!! We didn't have surgery today, today was just the pre-op visit. Surgery is still a few weeks away. (Not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing considering how scared I am armed with more information about that other 5% of the time when things don't go according to plan and something called Heart Block happens--essentially an electrical mishap of the heart requiring a pacemaker for an undetermined amount of time (potentially forever) post-surgery.) Surgery is scheduled for May 14th so long as Georgia doesn't get sick or an emergency surgery doesn't pop up and knock us off the board. Our schedule is so tight at this point, I really hope she stays healthy and there are no other delays. Of course we'll make it work around whatever happens, but if there were a stress line, mine would be topped off right about now. I think  the best advice I have received so far is to just fake it. One foot in front of the other.I also just found out that apparently the scars (and I thought there'd only be one...turns out there will be four) grow with her and do not stay small. This is not a huge deal. But it does make me a little sad.

P.S. Georgia grew another 4 ounces! Making her a whopping, verbal, determined, wallop at 11lbs, 6 oz!

How much am I going to regret admitting this?

So. I was watching Bam's Unholy Union this afternoon on MTV (forgive me, it's raining and I am not feeling well) and I noticed that one of the bride's maids had T21, I think it's Bam's wife's sister. I know, there will come a point when I don't feel it is necessary to point out every person I come across who has T21. But for now, I can't help but note it. I feel a little guilty about it, but I know some of you understand. Alex and I have this little joke when one or the other of us point out someone with T21 we turn to each other and say "They're everywhere!" with our eyes big and we smile. And we know it's kind of bad to say that. To  even say 'they'...but I guess it's just normalfying it for us. Or something. And yes, I know I made up that word.

I Wanna' Marry Myself

Our apartment is at a balmy 60 degrees and smells deliciously of green peas. After several days of refusing to turn on the heat, I persuaded my husband to let us keep the theromostat on 60, and it was a RELIEF to wake up and not feel all of my muscles constrict upon rolling out of bed and hitting a sheet of cold air. The weather, to say the least, has been nothing short of bi- if not tri-polar. Today we swam through rain, sun, wind, more sun, more rain, a near blizzard, and sun sun sun in time for setting and though it's still chilly out, Alex, Iggy and I enjoyed a half hour tromp around the high school yard as the sun played off the wet grass in the fields. Our team henceforth is now officially the Willimantic Whippets.

Alex has supper simmering on the stove and Zappa on the stereo. I had to stay late at work for a Board Meeting which had me feeling a bit bi-polar myself. It's not the first meeting since starting my new job in which I've felt a bit mixed. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy it, I just feel a bit of a hack or something. To think, mere months ago I was in a very different work environment, and even still I sling lattes 2-3 days a week. It's interesting to go from egg slinging to money-talking to art-making to quiet little nerd to newlywed to small-town politico to everything else I am and have yet to become. I suppose it means I am versatile. Diverse? But in a way, it makes me feel like I am of so many minds. So many groups that I associate with and feel at ease around and enjoy the company of would work like oil and water together. It makes me feel like I am not quite whole sometimes. Or like I am hiding some other part of my personality. Though it is not intentional.

Who IS the real Tricia?

Will the real Tricia T. please stand up? Please stand up?

I suppose maybe it doesn't merit any real discussion, other than that I feel like I am juggling all my selves. I wonder if there is, in fact, some way to marry all these Tricias. I wonder what would happen.

Self Portrait Tuesday

I can't decide between these two photos. In the first one, you can see the lazy eye that I inherited from my mother (who is the woman in the photograph)--if you look closely, you can see her lazy eye as well. But I guess I also like the color in the other photo. None of this really talks about what I am trying to shoot for the second week of February's Self Portrait Tuesday; All of Me assignment. I will get to that later--hopefully tonight. But I am frankly exhausted and overwhelmed and upset and depressed and all these other bad yucky unattractive things right now and I wouldn't give the topic its due.

Sunchasin' Shutterbug

This afternoon, I bundled up in my sweater, Alex's hoodie and my winter coat. I popped the hat Grama Bunny made for me as an Un-Christmas gift on my head, took my camera out and went for a walk.

Walking around our house is a difficult thing. For one, we live on a busy road. Though our house is set back from the street and we can barely hear any traffic, when cars do go by they don't slow down for pedestrians, nor is there a sidewalk or walkway for bikers, walkers, joggers and company. It is one of my least favorite things about where we live. And two, once you get past the death trap of our street, it's mostly BORING! And UP. HILL.

That said, I motivated myself with thoughts of the last several days recuperating from a virus and took advantage of the last rays of a sunny, though chilly, afternoon and took a few pictures. Of course, my battery died while I was out, but I managed to take a few o.k. ones some of which can be found in my Point & Shoot Album. (Let it be noted that I am doing a really quickdash editing process when I upload these, I certainly don't think they are great, but something about each of them did something (however small) for me. (That goes for all the photos, pictures, craft items, words, etc...on this blog and that is the last I will qualify it. Maybe.)

In other hokey news. I've lost 11.2lbs at Weight Watchers since January 7th. It's the only diet (nay, life change) I trust. Stayed tuned for an upcoming post (at some point) about being fat. Dun-Dun-Duuuuuuun!

Self Portrait Tuesday!

I am finally getting around to actually doing a photo for Self Portrait Tuesday. I have been meaning to for awhile but for one reason or another, I just kept putting it off. I think this month's topic is suitable to my state of mind. Perhaps because I have been feeling raw and exposed lately, this "assignment" seems plausible. ALL OF ME

The reason I chose this photo (out of the admittedly many self-portraits I tend to take) is because I think it captures an expression that I  initially found amusing only to realize afterwards  is profoundly sad. Terrified even.  Tired, raw and exposed. When I took it I had just showered and put on a black turtleneck sweater. (Something about black turtleneck sweaters seems so dehumanizing, I think they tend to turn prolific personalities into shadows of themselves.) Shot against the stark background in the stark bathroom light with my dark hair (complete with split ends and in need of a cut and a dye) and deep socketed eyes in shadow replete with bags and a forced not-even smile and set jaw, I just think this photo captures the fear I face on my darkest days. The fear of simply waking up and confronting my day. Forcing a smile when there are tears in my heart. (Gothic enough for you?)