Category Archives: Random Crap

Going Nowhere (but in a good way for once)

More bookshop news!

So.  I’ve been poring over the names I’ve given to all of the imaginary bookshops that I’ve opened my head since I was little, trying to decide which one is right for our real-life store and I keep coming back to one.

Growing up I spent more time in the land of books than I did in real life.  I lived in those neverlands that you can only visit in stories.  The places you grew up in that never actually existed.  The ones you got lost in and the ones you found yourself in.  Those strange countries that real and important, in spite of the fact that they exist nowhere at all but inside you.  And that’s where I got the name:

Nowhere Bookshop

And it works on a variety of levels because whenever I spend hours at a bookshop and Victor is like, “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY?” I always say, “Nowhere” and now I’ll actually be telling the truth.  Sort of.

We’ve seen a few locations that we like (more on that later) but now I need help on deciding what the logo should be.  Because you have helped to create this store in giving me such amazing ideas for the perfect store it seems only fitting that you should help decide the logo.  I’ve narrowed it down to these five designs but I can’t decide which one is best so I’m asking for your help:

CLICK HERE FOR THE POLL

Can you go in and rate each one?  Just click on the images to see each logo and then give each a rating from 1-5 stars (5 being best) and then click “submit”.  There’s a space that asks for your name and email but it’s not necessary so just leave that blank.  (The logos are still workable so you can leave comments on the design if you think it needs a change or should be a different color, etc.)

Thank you for being here.  And for being Nowhere.

The search for a bookstore, strike 2

So we’re still looking for a location in San Antonio to open our bookstore/bar.  First strike was Holy Haunted Hot Dog Magic Church Bookstore.

Last week I checked out The Spire:

It was gorgeous and accessible but there were issues with parking and it was a bit out of my budget to be comfortable so, strike two.

Looking at more places this week.  Wish me luck.

 

Really, me?

So this week has been particularly hard for me mentally and I think there must be something in the air because it feels like lots of people are struggling right now.  My doctor was concerned enough though to move the TMS coil to another area of my brain and hopefully that will help.  The depressing part about treating depression is that so much of it is a bit of a science experiment.  Is the TMS working and would I have been much worse without treatment?  Is it not working as much as last time?  Is this my brain lying to me?  Is it working for my motivation and anxiety but my depression is so strong that I can’t appreciate the improvement?  I don’t know. But I’ll keep moving forward if you will.  Nothing is perfect…treatment, life, me…but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worthwhile.

Today during treatment I pulled out an embroidery project to distract me from the woodpecker-like pounding in my head and congratulated myself for being able to concentrate enough to work on a project.

(Pattern by Odd Ana Stitch)

…Until I realized that I had somehow sewn myself to the fabric and literally had to cut myself out of my own mess.

This feels very metaphorical but I’m too unfocused to pull it all together so instead I’ll just say that if you’re struggling this week you are not alone and I love you and you will get through this.  I promise.

Progress looks weirder for some than others.

So yesterday I woke up to this:

Some of the hail was big as baseballs and now there are some holes in the side of my house and roof looks like crap but we’re safe and had a lot less damage than some of our neighbors.

When I was taking pictures of the damage I found this:

View this post on Instagram

My new scientific discovery. Hail nipple.

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on

And I was very excited that I would be immortalized forever (or at least my nipples would be) because obviously I would name them after myself and whenever there was a freak storm people would be like, “Bring the cat in or she’ll be knocked out by Jenny Lawson’s Nipples!” but then scientists on twitter were like, “Those were already discovered” so that was disappointing.  But the nice thing is that normally this would shatter my nerves and I was…kind of okay?  So maybe it’s a sign that the TMS is working more than I thought.

Then Victor decided to run with the baseball theme and take advantage of me being able to leave the house so we took Hailey to her first baseball game.  And it was lovely except that there was a taco there and I thought his head looked like a clitoris and Hailey was like, “WHAT.  It’s clearly a hot dog.”  And I was like, “Why would a hot dog be in a taco?” and she gave me a look like, “WHY WOULD A CLITORIS BE IN A TACO?” so I decided to ask the taco himself and he can’t talk but he mimed his flabbergastedness very well and for so long that a small child finally came up to comfort him.  Then he gave Victor the “Go with God, my son” gesture which seemed an overreaction but maybe was kind of fair.

(Also, I assure you there were no small children around when I asked him about his clitoris, although technically I think it’s good for kids to be more aware of medical terms  because even spellcheck has it underlined like, “What’s a ‘clitoris’?  I don’t think that even exists.

You’re part of the problem, spellcheck.

And as the sun set and the fireworks exploded I realized that maybe I’m going to be okay after all.  And that I probably won’t be allowed back at the baseball game ever again.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by The Seeker’s Dungeon.  Guest writers are wanted for the new blogging event over at The Seeker’s Dungeon.  You need not be a blogger, just have a story to tell.  The new event, From Darkness to Light, is about sharing how you turned a trauma or tribulation into motivation in following your own life’s purpose.  By sharing our stories we can inspire others while remembering that we are not alone.  Add your voice!

Well that’s embarrassing.

For those of you following along at home I just finished my 17th TMS treatment this week and I’m feeling some improvement especially in anxiety and motivation but I’m still dealing with some depression so today they moved the magnetic coil around to a different location to see if that will help.

I actually would have said that I wasn’t feeling much of a difference in motivation but then I realized that this week three things happened that were a big deal.

1.I finished a new chapter in my book and it actually made me laugh out loud when I wrote it.

2. I easily drove downtown to look at a bookstore location and I have NEVER driven downtown on my own because driving in busy places terrifies me.  And when I got back home I was still okay and not a giant puddle of exhaustion and I didn’t need to recuperate for a day.  That seems ridiculous to normal people but trust me, it’s rather shocking for me.

3.  When I went to TMS I had my phone in my pocket and somehow my leg unpaused the podcast I was listening to in the car and it blasted a sexy improvised musical theater number across the crowded waiting room of the psychiatric center and everyone was staring at me as I frantically searched for my phone which was screaming, “BECAUSE THE ARROW IS A DICK AND THE TARGET IS A VAGIIIIINNNNNAAAAAA” (thanks, Off Book).  Then in my actual session I was wearing headphones because the TMS machine is crazy loud but I heard this weird noise and then I realized it was farting and I thought maybe it was the counselor who has to watch me and make sure I don’t have a seizure but it was going on way to long to be healthy and I was actually starting to be a little impressed/concerned and then I realized that the farting was coming from me.

Not from my butt though.  When I’m nervous I rub my feet together and apparently the fake leather of my shoes rubbing against the chair was making these incredible farts.  I have no idea how long I’ve been loudly farting-but-not-farting during my hour-long sessions but I suspect the answer is “Forever, you idiot” because the counselor was just taking phone calls like everything was normal even though probably the people on the other line were like, “Is she farting?”  And the me of last month would have been like, “Well, clearly I can never come back here and also maybe I should burn the building down” but me of now was like, “Honestly, if you’re going to be horribly awkward and do mortifying things it should be in a psych unit because it’s probably encouraging for everyone else around who is feeling like shit and needs a good laugh.”

The real killers.

And that’s how my week has been going.  You?

 

Celebrating. Sort of?

Today I was driving over a bridge near my house and I noticed that the water level on one side of the bridge was way down from where it normally is and I saw a fish splashing around at the end who was obviously dying and stuck in just a few inches of water way down at the shallow end of the river and I considered driving on but then I felt bad because what if the fish couldn’t flop over to the deeper water by itself, so I drove down to where the fish was but I kept thinking that even if I wade out into  the mud to grab the fish I have to be able to carry it to the other side of the river fast enough to not have it reverse drown so I thought I’d probably have to pick it up, run back to my car, drive to the other side of the river and throw it in from my car window and then Victor called and I was like, “I have to go.  I’m working,” and he was like, “You sound weird.  What are you really doing?” and I was like, “I think I have to give a fish a ride in my car and I need to have both hands free so I can hold him” and then he was like, “What” and I was like, “I HAVE FISH TO SAVE” but then I got to the edge of the water and I couldn’t see  any fish and suddenly a duck popped out of the water and apparently the duck had been pretending to be a needy fish and didn’t need my help at all.

Fake Fish River (Not the actual name. Probably.)

So, long story short, today I didn’t have to drive with a floppy panicked fish in my lap and I sort of want to celebrate that because sometimes I think it’s a good idea to celebrate all the stuff that didn’t happen to you.

Did you not sprain your ankle today?  Did you not get attacked by geese?  Were you not get arrested for public indecency again?  CELEBRATE.  These are all wins, y’all.  And you deserve them all.

 

Strike one: Holy Haunted Hot Dog Magic Church Bookstore

First off, your suggestions and support about the bookstore I want to open were AMAZING and you seriously made me cry but in a good way.  In the spirit of keeping you in the loop since this is now *our* bookstore (as apparently almost all of you also want to open a bookstore or at least live in one) I have to tell you that I started scouting locations and the one I just looked at is an abandoned, haunted, 100-year-old church where Victor and I once saw an amateur magic show back when it was a fancy gourmet hotdog restaurant.  This is all true.  It is haunted as fuck and IT HAS A BAR IN IT and stained glass everywhere and a stage for readings and I thought it was totally the place, even though the outside was overgrown and something had died in the wall and it needed a lot of work.  Then we found out that the elevator doesn’t go to the mezzanine and it’s too small a space without it and accessibility is one thing we won’t blink on.  So sadly, Holy Haunted Hot Dog Magic Church Bookstore is not meant to be, which was very disappointing especially since that name fucking sings and it would be a great place for me to haunt in the afterlife.

Seriously though…look at it.

I mean…y’all.

Staircase to the mezzanine, which is gorgeously creepy and incredibly problematic.

The stage is awesome though so maybe they’ll let us rent it sometimes for author readings or ghost-hunting slumber parties.

So…the search continues next week.  Let me know if you have any other suggestions for San Antonio locations and I’ll keep you posted.

********

And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the lovely people who make up Soul Happy.  I’ll let them introduce themselves: “We are 2 middle-aged, seasoned, menopausal, fed-up psychotherapists.  We are out to disrupt traditional talk therapy (which is what we did for decades).  We pooled our knowledge, experience, and resources, and developed a radical way to heal.  We just knew there had to be a better way to move people through their issues without rehashing over and over blah, blah, blah…not to mention the current dumbed down mani-pedi-therapy culture. We accomplished developing a quick, less painful and more effective, affordable, online at-home technique.”  You should check them out here.

I suppose it’s a type of airmail in a way.

So this happened:

And I felt bad that I’d been shoving mail onto this bird like he was some sort of Hogwarts owl but I felt even worse a few minutes ago when I was staring into the mailbox and saying, “Hello?  Are you hungry?  Do you need help?” without realizing that a neighbor was creeping up behind me and thinking I was insane.  So I explained that I was not talking to the mailbox and that there was a bird squatter in there and she was like, “Oh yeah, that nest has been there for years.  Every time the mail carrier pulls it out the birds rebuild it so now it’s just a bird house.”  And I felt very happy to know that the bird could easily get out and was safe from predators but also pretty fucking unobservant because we’ve lived her for years and apparently I’ve been shoving bills on these birds forever.

********

And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Palace Rings. Though you probably don’t want your teenager to act like a princess, you do want her to always feel like one. Palace Rings offers a great assortment of princess crown rings that will surely make anyone feel special. What’s not to like about a small crown you wear as a ring? The popularity of these rings continues to grow and teenage girls seriously love them. Let the princess in your life know that she’s special by getting her a crown ring! Use code BLOGGESS at checkout for 30% off. Click here to check them out.

It’s all in the way you look at it.


So this past week I’ve been dealing with mental illness bullshit and I don’t think I’m alone based on what I’m seeing on the internet so if you’re struggling please know that you are not alone and that it will get better.

Today was my 5th TMS treatment and honestly I was getting sort of depressed about being depressed because it sucks to feel like shit and also have to drag yourself to the doctor to get punched in the head for an hour a day but then a few hours ago I suddenly got a burst of energy and my vision cleared and HOLY SHIT I ALMOST FEEL NOT DEPRESSED.  It possibly will only last for another hour or so but I’ll take it and I’m writing this down to remind myself that not-depressed-me says the dread and self-hatred that depressed-me is feeling is totally a lie.

I took this picture today during treatment because Victor and Hailey keep saying that they can see my depression in my face lately and I wanted to see if it was any better and I still looked depressed but all of a sudden a rainbow showed up and I’m pretty sure it’s just a light artifact but I’m choosing to believe it’s some sort of leprechaun magic and I am here for it.  You should be too.

Also, there’s been a weed growing out of my gutter for the last few weeks but I’m too tired to clean the gutters so it just keeps growing and I feel like shit when I see it because it seems very analogous to how my life is feeling right now but today when I saw it I noticed that the weed has flowered and it made me smile because technically I think this is the longest I’ve ever kept a plant alive.

It’s all in how you look at it, I guess.

 

Really keeping the “Repetitive” in “Repetitive Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation”

So last year I did rTMS to try to whack my brain out of chronic treatment resistant depression and it was pretty helpful.  Not perfect, but it pulled me out of a deep hole I was stuck in.  I also treated the other side of my brain for anxiety and that was really helpful.  I’ve taken one xanax in the last 6 months and anyone with severe anxiety disorder knows how big of a deal that is.

Unfortunately I’ve been in a bit of a hole lately and my doctor said another round of TMS treatments might really help to stop me before I’m too far gone so I started again this week.

I’m doing the same treatments as before but in slightly different spots (the science on TMS changes so quickly and doctors are always using the latest studies to try to perfect the treatment) and I’m also doing deep treatment on my right ocular something-or-another and I don’t entirely understand it but they think it may help break up the intrusive negative thoughts that get stuck in my head.

It is as painful as I remembered but less painful than living with mental illness so I’m down with it.  They play nature videos with relaxing melodies so you can distract yourself  but that’s not really my thing so instead they’re letting me watch Shrill on their TV and it’s lovely except that my headphones ran out of juice so the counselor who monitors me just turned up the volume in the room right as a particularly awkward sex scene came on, which was made even more awkward by the fact that I was forcing other people to watch it.

Embarrassing, but honestly, very on brand.

PS.  Last treatment they had to find my hand through my brain (making my thumb move by punching me in the head with magnets) but this time they had to go deeper, which meant that I had to take off my shoes and get magnet punched until I involuntarily kicked myself.  I was still wearing tattered remnants of months-old nail polish and I apologized for the state of my feet but no one seemed to care and honestly I suspect that if your feet look like shit it’s maybe just another sign that you need to be medicinally magnet thumped for a few months.