... a little more bliss ...

Holidays at my Aunt Lisa’s are the closest thing to perfect that my family will ever have. The company is delightful, naturally. There is the perfect combination of hard work and leisure. There is NEVER any shortage of amazing food. And most of all, the amount of love in that house hits you over the head like a Louisville Slugger the second you walk in. From Wednesday until this evening, I lacked for nothing and probably had too much affection, food, kindness, and laughter. In fact, I felt rather spoilt.

My darling cousin was hard at work all weekend on major papers and saving the world (typical tasks for one as brilliant as she is) so I was left to reading, assisting with cooking, some cleaning, walking my the dog, and in general having a fabulous time. I learned about old coins (the US Mint used to make coins worth five cents that were marked as a half dime instead of a nickel, and coins worth 2 ½ dollars apiece) and how to cook ribs (well, mostly preventing them from catching fire). I also got lots of quality time with this motley crew – my sweet grandmother (mentioned in the previous post), grandfather, and their ‘son’ Sam. I love this photo; it seems to get all the personalities quite well.

Pappy is quite the stoic man’s man, but loves to be paid attention and spoilt and looked up to. When I was little he told me stories of him wrestling tigers in India and I believed every word he said. He has the firm believe that any useful sort of fella will know how to fire a gun, fix things, always have $20 in cash, and be able to produce a watch and pocketknife on demand. He worries if you are late and/or gone too long, and needs to be reminded that I do behave and I won’t run off from family gatherings to go be a reckless hooligan and smoke cigars and drink scotch. He’s stingy with his praise, but not with his love. He is also a sentimental old coot, though he’ll never admit it – he still carries the hankies I embroidered for him when I was a little girl. He loved watching the news, grumbling about politics, hugging Nanna, and watching his two granddaughters become somewhat useful girls. He loves cars, and heaven help you if your tires are old or your oil needs changing and it hasn’t been done!

Nanna is a typical Southern lady, has Amy Vanderbilt memorized from cover to cover, can cook the pants off almost anyone I know, and is one of the few people I know who could actually kill someone with kindness. She is put together, enjoys her friends and family, loves hugs and closeness, and praises everything lavishly and wholeheartedly. She keeps Pappy from being too blunt by simply saying ‘Charleton!’ in a tone only that many years of love and labor can create. She sees beauty and importance in everyday graces, and forgives easily and beautifully. She can be melancholy at times, but she’d give the shirt off her back to the first person that asked.

And Sam? Sam is the best dog in the world. Sam is as faithful, kind, fiercely loyal, and intuitive as Sam in the Lord of the Rings series. He brings Nanna joy, Pappy comfort, and their whole community something to nurture. He is also camera-shy.

How else was I spoiled this week? In addition to my gourmet chef aunt’s cooking, I got a coffee date with the terrific trio from my undergrad days – Ben, Catherine, and Zach. I was foiled in my plans for giving Voldemort as my coffee-name at Starbucks, but I did have a lovely long conversation with my loves, in which I successfully used the term ‘bogarted’. We discussed arranged marriages, villainy, gold plated AVI cables, holding hands, camping, football, and work.  We had such a good time, in fact, we went to a wretched hive of scum and villainy known as the Thirsty Fellow (the bar was actually far classier then you’d think for it being across the street from USC’s greek village) and finished up by discussing football and nerdy pick-up-lines there. In short, my coffee date lasted from 3:30 to almost 8, and I never really noticed how fast the time flew. And I’ve been recruited for springtime camping trips and may have housing at Zach’s for Enter the Blues in Atlanta.

Dad visited for a good portion of the day today and took the weekend from simply wonderful to absolutely fabulous. He also said I was an excellent driver, which made me giggle.

Also, I have gotten to read and reflect more on my newest nonfiction homework. My goodness. The author described the work, quite accurately, as ‘not a nice story’. The dark, dirty, sad history of the treatment of people with mental illnesses is not pleasant – and when you combine that with questionable ethical/moral choices, as well as academic backstabbing and hubris … not an easy read by any means. But then again, this was undertaken as improvement and not necessarily enjoyment. I am enjoying the knowledge I am acquiring though.

Now, I am curled up with a cocktail and the newest Jane Eyre DVD in my very own bed, taking stock of what I need to do tomorrow. Groceries, bills, running to prep for Lindy Focus … and I am wonderfully content.

Happy-day-after-Thanksgiving, ya’ll!

I don’t know why I always get the insane idea to start a blog during the holidays. Maybe it’s the warm, family, fuzzy feeling that I want to share with the world. Maybe it’s due to the fact that I get really busy and don’t get to actually connect with everyone that I’d like to. Perhaps it’s just a holiday coping mechanism. But here it is. A shiny new blog. Presumptuous in its very nature. Of course I have things to say, and I shall put them on the Internet for ALL TO READ! My voice is POWERFUL! MWAHAHAHA!

So, what pressing matters do I have to share? What burning thoughts are aflame in my mind? Today – psychoanalysis, ewoks, Alzheimer’s, dogs, FOX News, and Black Friday shopping.

Apparently, tryptophan has no effect on the hamster wheel that is my brain.

I’ve recently downloaded the Kindle version of A Most Dangerous Method, and I can’t wait to delve further into my self-assigned homework. Seeing as I'm only on chapter four right now, and most of material to this point is about the practices of doctors, treatment of patients, and the overall perception of mental illness in the late 1890's and early 1900's, I'll do a brief intro based off of the 'dust jacket', Amazon reviews, and one online book review I read somewhere and promptly lost the link to. The book is about Jung, Freud, and Spielrein – two well-known psychoanalysts and a woman who had some amazing theories of her own. She was initially a patient of Jung’s, but was treated and responded well. She then became a doctor and published several articles – when she wasn’t too busy being Jung’s mistress (at least this is what is insinuated in the review I read). Jung eventually detached himself from Spielrein, and she moved to Vienna and was analyzed by Freud. Her decision to align herself with Freud’s theories supposedly lead to the split of the two collaborators in an emerging field of study. Why this book? I feel that my knowledge in the area of psychology is woefully limited, and this can at least introduce me to the non-child centric theories (I’ve studied Piaget, Erickson and Vygotsky…) that my high school and college education didn't really delve into, other than cracking jokes about cigars. A historical love triangle thrown into the mix? Bonus. Movie coming out with Viggo Mortensen, Michael Fassbender, and Keira Knightly … major bonus! I need some people to come see it with me so I can pick it apart afterwards.

 

I am at my aunt’s picturesque house in Lexington, and she has gotten a new cat named Mazie. Some strange breed called a ‘Himalayan Flame Point’. She has amazingly blue eyes and is as sweet as her nickname – Fluffernutter. I swear this cat is an ewok in disguise. I want to put a little leather hat-thing on her and squeal over the cuteness. Like some savvy human did to this kitty! Who, humorously enough, looks almost exactly like Mazie.

Most diseases suck. I am aware of this. Cancer sucks. Celiac takes away pasta and bread. Lupus makes your body attack itself. But few diseases piss me off as much (and frankly, scare me as much) as Alzheimer’s. My sweet, loving grandma has been dealing with this for years. She used to be a nurse and is painfully aware of how this will progress. She hates the fact that this horrible force is inside her, taking things from her. She’s gotten to a point where she hates her life. I hate to hear her talk about how she wishes she wouldn’t have another birthday, and how she hates the years she’s spent living. I hate how she can get upset over things and can’t stop herself from being angry, even though she knows she shouldn’t be. I hate how when I offer help she says no because she doesn’t want to feel weak. I hate watching someone I know and adore hate herself. I hate that the few happy moments she has are stolen, and she can’t store away new ones. How selfish is it of me to wish I couldn’t remember things from my past, delete people or events? Memory is such a strange thing, sometimes so keen when it is least wanted, and sometimes so fickle. But I reflect on how lucky I am to have partial control of my crazy memory, at least for now.

My brilliant cousin recommended a documentary to me called Dogs Decoded. This was brought up while the family was sneaking our grandparent’s dog turkey off the table, naturally. Being a huge animal lover and geeky person, I was thrilled to hear that there is a documentary that attempts to look into the genetic links between domestic dogs and wolves/foxes.  And while people have been shown to emotionally and physically benefit from having dogs, did you know that dogs also benefit from interactions with people in a similar way? Hmm. I am looking forward to my science lesson. It is also apparently on Netflix! SCORE!

I hate the news. Always have on some level or another. Apparently I announced this fact to the world quite loudly at the age of 6. It stems from my grandfather and uncle’s physical dependence on the news.  When I was younger, it was always on. I would try and turn it off and put on some more ‘entertaining’ programming – but the menfolk would not permit such things. I have since learned not to touch the remote. To this very day, the news – more specifically FOX news, is on at family gatherings, the beach, what-have-you, nonstop and painfully loud. If it were election night, I’d get it. I have an election night all-nighter, flipping between the polls and late-night TV. If it was a major crisis, I’d be glued to the TV too. You can't get me off of the news if there's an earthquake, hurricane, or something like that. But just the FOX news channel on a slow news day repeating the same clips over and over and talking about the Republican Presidential candidates for hours on end? Sigh. All I really wanted was one episode of Big Bang to break up the monotony. This was greeted with scorn and general displeasure. I poured myself another glass of Riesling.

Black Friday people – you are insane. It makes no sense to me. Even though I have to deal with FOX news on loop for hours on end, I will not be fighting you to the death for the last reasonably priced laptop. It will not happen. Some people I know missed Thanksgiving dinner with FAMILY to camp in a tent outside a store. Unfathomable. I hate shopping for things in crowded areas normally – why on earth would you think I would willingly get out of bed at 4am to buy things that I could buy online for the same price (or less!) on Cyber Monday?