Latest Posts (20 found)
annie's blog 2 weeks ago

I can wear a sweater // W39

Listen I understand that technically I am capable of wearing a sweater at anytime but that’s not what I mean and you know it I can’t wear a sweater right this minute because it’s the hottest part of the day and the hottest part of the day is still a little too hot for sweater. But morning? Evening? SWEATER TIME. Also I’ve never really thought about the word sweater before and is it the word we used because this is an item of clothing that makes you sweat, hypothetically, if you wear it when it is NOT sweater time? Because ew gross. Should we all say jumper instead? It sounds nicer but I’m still not quite clear on if a jumper is just a long-sleeve shirt, any kind? Or specifically does it refer to what we U.S. folk mean by sweater which is to say long-sleeve knitted/crocheted shirt? And if so then what is the British equivalent for sweatshirt is it also jumper or Okay I’m bored of that let’s move on. Here’s a photo from this morning’s hike instead: This week was like a whole entire month of weeks. Not in a bad way, just in an experientially packed way. Last weekend I worked both Saturday and Sunday at the hospital which I do not normally do and that threw off my groove because 1) I missed my usual soul-cleansing therapeutic Sunday morning hiking time which provides a kind of complete psychological reset and reminds me that nature is the most real thing of all and allows me to enter a fresh week with something like a fresh mind, and 2) I did not have time to do the usual small but essential logistical things like GROCERY SHOPPING and LAUNDERING THE TOWELS and PLANNING THE WEEK AHEAD and STARING OUT THE WINDOW BLANKLY and IGNORING SEVERAL OTHER IMPORTANT LOGISTICAL THINGS IN ORDER TO READ JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER as I usually do on Sundays so anyway I came into Monday a bit ragged and rumpled, if you will. And then the week itself was pretty normal and fine in that it had the usual amount of things e.g. work and class and parenting and study and meals etc but I felt like I was behind and that stressed me out. Also there were some car repairs in there that required some schedule shuffling & car sharing which made the usual things more complicated. Anyway I finally paused long enough on Thursday to kind of assess the state of things and realize nothing was actually on fire e.g. most things were getting done appropriately and the not-done things weren’t important. The feeling itself was the burden, not the reality being whispered by the feeling. So I let that shit go. Without worry to protect me, every thought that came into my mind received real attention. —Ann Patchett, The Patron Saint of Liars And good thing because we had an important event on Friday and I needed my mental space clear so I could prep and that important event is FAMILY PRESENTATION NIGHT. Highly recommend having one of these with any mix of people you enjoy being around. I laughed till I cried so many times. Our apartment was an absolute wreck after and I didn’t get to bed till 2am which is kind of a big deal when you usually go to bed at 9pm but whatever, worth it, loved it. The next day I dragged myself out of bed (translation: I am of an age where my spine will not tolerate being in bed past a certain time no matter how sleepy I am) and gulped down some coffee and Mara and I headed to the car dealership because her high school car had finally spun its last wheel. Anyway that’s where we spent THE NEXT ELEVENTEENHUNDRED HOURS because apparently when you say I WANT TO BUY THIS CAR they have to go into the woods 17 miles away and cut down a tree to pound into pulp to hand-make the paper to write the contract and lord god almighty it was a long day. We didn’t get home until dinner time. But it was a successful day, car purchase complete, hope I never have to do that again (I’ll definitely have to do it again next year). Now it’s Sunday and I’m sitting in my comfy chair with a cup of coffee at hand. Morning hike was lovely. Groceries are in the fridge. Contentedly blank window staring and one-more-chapter reading ahead. Perhaps a nap. Hey, look at this rock:

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annie's blog 2 months ago

Waiting to be found by only you

Who knows how reality will continue to develop? There’s no way to prepare. When you can’t be prepared, be prepared to find poetry in the chaos. Secret messages, serendipitous grace, lines of meaning in a whirlwind of uncertainty. “It's gonna change, baby doll It's gonna change, honey ball It's gonna change, sugar cane It's gonna change, sweetie legs.” This is a test but so is everything. Everyone is watching you and everyone will judge you and you have to make peace with it. Also, no one is watching you and no one cares and you have to make peace with that, too. You will always displease some people. In the end, you are watching and judging and ignoring and being displeased, too. It evens out. Give up on pursuing happiness as quickly as possible. Seek to live, instead. It's quite the experience, but it will include much, much more than happiness. Give yourself comfort in small things and challenge in big things. Or maybe the opposite. Pick 3 skills from the list below and master them as quickly as possible: how to defuse an argument how to make a Venn diagram how to not take everything personally how to be running up that hill how to stop trying how to keep trying how to properly use the words effect and affect how to make a dent in the universe how to roast a marshmallow perfectly the way you like it how to forgive yourself how to make a great sandwich how to ask questions how to make numbered lists how to write in cursive (A fading skill! Grab it now before it’s gone. Or don’t because literally no one cares.) how to find your people how to make a great lemon dessert how to ignore lists like this Alternately, memorize a poem instead. It will be more beautiful, and just as useful. Perhaps more useful. Who knows how reality will continue to develop? When you can’t be prepared, be prepared to find poetry in the chaos. Find your kind of poetry — whether it’s in words or music or the ocean or motion or a really great sandwich — and look for it everywhere. It will always be there, waiting to be found by only you. how to defuse an argument how to make a Venn diagram how to not take everything personally how to be running up that hill how to stop trying how to keep trying how to properly use the words effect and affect how to make a dent in the universe how to roast a marshmallow perfectly the way you like it how to forgive yourself how to make a great sandwich how to ask questions how to make numbered lists how to write in cursive (A fading skill! Grab it now before it’s gone. Or don’t because literally no one cares.) how to find your people how to make a great lemon dessert how to ignore lists like this

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annie's blog 3 months ago

I have no idea who celebrities are anymore

Julia Roberts? She was in that one movie with that guy, and the other one with the other guy, and like 100 more. Whatever. But she’s old news. Like all the other celebrity names I actually recognize, which isn’t a lot, but is some. Just a minute ago a headline floated by: Person A is doing Thing with Person B, what will Person C think? I have no idea: Who the people are, their relationship or lack thereof, their various claims to fame. I do not possess any crumbs of context helping me interpret the situation or nod knowingly about what C’s thoughts will be. I Got Nothing. Which is fine. Preferable, even. I’ve never been a very good fan, it’s just not my thing. But cultural knowledge always seeps in. You just know some stuff like who’s famous and why, and you even have some sort of opinion about them. Until you don’t. I have reached the don’t point. It’s peaceful here.

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annie's blog 3 months ago

Exclamatory birthday edition // W26 — 2026

Today I turn 45 which is, if you think about it, half of 90! And also about 30 years older than I feel on the inside! What is age? What is time? What is reality? I certainly don’t know. Current situation: Monday 22 June: Study anatomy! Work! Lily to therapy! Go to the gym! Eat dinner! Study some more! Fall into bed thinking about tissues and bones! Tuesday 23 June: Hospital day 🏥 💛 Got to see a double fasciotomy (helped with the dressing change) which was fascinating. Got yelled at, cursed at, and called a sweet angel (all by the same patient). 🤷‍♀️ Wednesday 24 June: Work! Call with new boss! (It went fine!) Memorize more bones! Go to the gym! DID YOU KNOW LIFTING WEIGHTS MAKES YOUR ACTUAL BONES PRODUCE MORE BONE CELLS SO THEY ARE DENSER AND STRONGER AND YOU ARE MORE FLEXIBLE AND RESILIENT? You won’t get taller but you will get stronger! So get your osteocytes working, friends! Pick up heavy things and put them down again! Do it over and over on a semi-regular basis! Thursday 25 June: Work! Big team call with new boss! (Also went fine!) Bones bones bones bones bones bones bones bones bones. Gym! Lift heavy things. Walk on the treadmill while watching YT videos about bones! Friday 26 June:  Work! Bones! Took Lily for her permit test! She passed! More bones! Gym! Bones! Dinner! Bones! Bed! Saturday 27 June: Hospital day 🏥 💛 Long day. Got home late. Kids all in various places. Quiet. Showered, looked at the anatomy study pile on the table, and went straight to bed. Sunday 28 June: Feeling amazing after 9 hours of sleep, wow. I should do that more often. 🥾 Hiking church with Jenn. 💜 It was hot. Hello, summer hiking in Missouri. Lunch with Katie. 💜 Mara in town for birthday time. ALL MY BABIES AROUND ME AT ALL TIMES IS ALL I AM ASKING FOR OKAY. Also 9 hours of sleep every night. 💜 Cards and flowers and treats all day. They wrapped my gifts in a giant ball of bubble wrap and packing tape. 😂 We did an escape room which we escaped with 26 seconds on the clock. Then breakfast-dinner at Denny’s. Dumb jokes, snort-laughing, plans for world domination. Came home and studied bones until I fell asleep at the table. Took myself to bed. Monday 29 June: Slept 9 hours again. I can conquer the world or at the very least memorize a lot of bone fissures. Work, gym, and study today. Steak salad for dinner sounds good. Anatomy test on Thursday, at which point I can stop thinking about bones and start thinking about muscles. Later this week, time with Holly and dinner with Linds. 💜 Took Friday 3rd off work and don’t have hospital shifts, so I have a long luxurious weekend ahead. I’m here for the poetry . For 45 lucky, lucky years, this collection of minutes and hours and days stacked up and sliding around, I’ve been here. I get to be here. I get to keep being here for some minutes and hours and days more. I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space. — James Joyce

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annie's blog 3 months ago

A bundle of bones // W24 + 25 — 2026

I have to publish this now, we’re already halfway through W26. Current situation: Monday 08 June: The U of Ark college visit. Zeke really likes it and they have a great engineering program. It poured down rain all morning. I bought umbrellas in the gift shop. I am bad at selfies. Tuesday 09 June: Coffee with a friend I’ve known since middle school. “Are we turning 45 this year?” Turns out, yes. We all begin as a bundle of bones lost somewhere in a desert, a dismantled skeleton that lies under the sand. It is our work to recover the parts. — Clarissa Pinkola Estés Wednesday 10 June: After work, Lily and I tackled the overly complicated bed assembly which involved One trip to the hardware store for missing bolts One order of Chinese takeout A lot of squinting at fuzzy tiny diagrams in the optimistically vague instructions Much laughter Six (6!) hours of KPop. So far the bed has not fallen apart. Friday 12 June: Early morning work call. I’m gonna drink a gallon of coffee today. Who am I kidding, I drink a gallon of coffee everyday. The weather is still cooler than usual. I like it. Monday 15 June: The weekend was a  blur with hospital shifts on Saturday and Sunday. Beautiful weather. Took a looooong walk to make up for missing my usual weekend hike. Tuesday 16 June: First deadlines for the summer term: anatomy & physiology 1 and a communications class. A&P in 8 weeks might have been a mistake. Did okay on the first exam but it just covered tissues. Next up is ALL THE BONES. Fortunately the communications class is just a lot of writing and open-book quizzes. 😅 Wednesday 17 June: To the library for a “We get dumb shit done” session. Here’s how it works: You text a friend. You choose a time. You reserve a study room. You bring your laptops. You sit there together in the study room and do dumb life-admin shit like filling out forms, making appointments, canceling subscriptions, whatever. You make fun of everything and complain to each other the entire time. After a couple of hours you get a surprising amount done. Saturday 20 June : My first Saturday off in…. a while. Other than a minor unavoidable study session, I successfully avoided being productive and spent the day lounging, reading, snacking, and hanging with the girls. Perfection. Sunday 21 June: 🥾 Hiking church. Warm but pleasant. Sunday afternoon, a huge storm rolled through and it rained for a long time. So cozy. Some other stuff happened, probably. I can’t remember at the moment. It’s not important. I need to go memorize the skeletal system now.  🩻 One trip to the hardware store for missing bolts One order of Chinese takeout A lot of squinting at fuzzy tiny diagrams in the optimistically vague instructions Much laughter Six (6!) hours of KPop.

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annie's blog 3 months ago

Do not bargain to be loved

A gentler world begins in the way you touch your heart. Be soft with the light inside you. Caress your body with this breath. God is nothing else but the place where the sun comes up in your chest. You are the glimmering destination. You are the golden honey daubed on the bread of the ordinary. Whatever is perfect, whatever is heavenly, begins here. — Fred LaMotte Do not bargain to be loved. Do not negotiate. When love is withheld as a punishment, as a manipulation, as a means to move you in a certain direction: Do the worst and most difficult thing and quit asking for it. Withdraw your hand, put it in your pocket. Clamp your mouth shut, let your silence swell, do not ask for explanations. It's already been explained. Love is not contractual. Love does not have terms you must fulfill before you get to have it. Love exists and is made apparent in all situations where it is present. If it is not apparent — if you cannot feel it, hear it, and see it in action — it is not present. This seems like a harsh rule but it is the only rule of love. Love is not confusing. Love is clear. Love is simple. Love is obvious. Big as the sky, sturdy as a mountain. Brave and honest, tender and unrelenting. You don't have to poke around in dark corners asking, Is it here? Is it here? You don't have to dig for love until your fingers bleed. You don't have take apart some sharp-edged thing to get at the gooey love-filled center. Love doesn't hide. Love appears and stays. Love is present. When you're loved, you know it. You feel it. It opens you up. It blesses you with spaciousness and closeness, with freedom and safety, equal measures. You don't have to choose one and lose the other. Love does not offer you a half. Love is the whole. Do not bargain to be loved. Here are some things that are not love: Compliments Love may express itself in those ways. Love may give you affection, attention, all of the above. Wonderful. Love can bring you these things, but it does not hold a monopoly. Agreement can come from avoidance of conflict. Attention can come from jealousy. Affection can come from loneliness. Compliments can come from a need to please. Gifts can come from guilt. Love is not transactional. Love is not a handful of coins in your pocket, spend one here, spend one there, save some up for a rainy day. Love does not run out. Love is self-created, self-fulfilling, endless supply. Love is active generosity. Love is splendid, exorbitant kindness. Love cannot be measured or doled out in small bits, cut into smaller slices. When someone tries to love you this way, here is the explanation (take a deep breath): What they offer you is not love. They offer you something , to be sure. But it is not love. If love is what you want, don't bargain for what is not love. Some people want to love but don't know how. Or they want to get love, but don't know how to give it. You don't teach them by accepting not-love and pretending it is love. You can show them by knowing what love is and being it, best as you can: Being clear, being simple, being obvious. Not accepting half-truths or hiding. Not equating affection with love, apologies with love, attention with love. Not being pulled into transactions. Not being backed into a corner. Not making yourself smaller. Not agreeing when you don't agree. Not tolerating what you shouldn't tolerate. Clear, simple, obvious. Big and sturdy. Brave and honest, tender and unrelenting. Even when saying goodbye. Compliments

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annie's blog 3 months ago

This is it

As long as you keep secrets and suppress information, you are fundamentally at war with yourself…The critical issue is allowing yourself to know what you know. That takes an enormous amount of courage. ― Bessel A. van der Kolk What we live through, what we experience, how we navigate a life that is one  unknown  after another, how we keep breathing in the midst of pain, how we learn to carry suffering, how we open our arms to each other, how we offer comfort in the face of tragedy: none of it really makes sense. How we look forward with hope, how we keep functioning without hope, what we do when it feels like there’s nothing to hope for, when meaning is lost, when it would feel nice to have the earth open and swallow us whole… How we find  small things  to delight in, how we notice a good thing in the middle of a shitstorm, how we put our heads down and plod forward through despair, how we tilt our faces toward the sun, how we park the car and get out and shut the door and check the mail and walk inside when our minds can’t imagine why we’re doing any of it and our hearts are howling, screaming, shattering… How we make art , how certain things become sharper, how we accept one another’s discomfort, how we make room for each other’s pain, how we read a poem or a comic or watch a show or stare out the window, how one story might pull us under but another story might be what saves us… Bukowski  said,  What matters most is how well you walk through the fire , and what we didn’t realize is that it’s all fire, all the time, and how we walk through it is how we live, how we keep living, because love is a fire, love is as strong as death which means sometimes, a lot of times, we live through things that seem likely to kill us. The mystery is you and how you are here, right now, slamming your hand in frustration, yelling, cursing, sobbing, retreating into silence, considering violence, burdened with helplessness, pacing and exhausted, uncertain and trembling, numb with detachment, shaking with anger, frozen in shock, shaking with  grief,  panicking, breathless. It’s extraordinary — the way  you  breathe, the way you keep breathing. The way you question yourself, the way you smile, the way you let tears roll down your face, how you peer through the flames to see colors and light.

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annie's blog 4 months ago

A solid tradition // Week 23 — 2026

A week in which some things happen and some things do not happen, much like other weeks. Current situation: The pain of having children who become driving teenagers is the exorbitant cost of auto insurance. The joy is getting to stare out the window as the midwestern landscape moves by and think about nothing and everything for hours at a time. Monday 01 June: Dentist in the morning, then work. I make all the kids’ appointments for the same day, which was a logistical requirement for years and now is just a solid tradition. We all troop in and the receptionist says, “Ahhh, the Muellers are here.” I guess at some point my adult-ish children will start doing their own dentist thing but we haven’t crossed that line yet. I’m not rushing it. Tuesday 02 June: My Mom died 19 years ago. I miss her every single day. Wednesday 03 June: Certainly some things happened on this day. But memorable things did not happen, I guess. How often we made our worst fears come true, by behaving as though they already were. — Louise Penny, A Better Man Thursday 04 June: Early work meeting, then met a friend for a walk. Work, gym, then I spent a lot of money on Amazon 1 . Now that we’re down to two kids at home (🥺) each with their own! separate! bedroom!, they no longer have to tolerate twin-size creaky metal loft beds. So: I ordered bed frames and mattresses. Which means next week we’ll have to put together the bed frames…. Friday 05 June: Took a long leisurely walk at the end of the day. Refused to cook dinner due to the volume of leftovers in the fridge. Saw some pretty peonies . Snuggled up on the couch and read Louise Penny while Lily watched Wednesday again. Saturday 06 June: Hospital day. Floor wasn’t full and then we had multiple discharges so I ended up with only 5 patients. I actually sat down for probably 2-3 hours total. Home. Shower. Balcony time. Stayed up too late watching Slow Horses . Sunday 07 June: An absolute luxury of a morning. No alarms. Slept until I woke up, then coffee and slow soft waking time. Then unhurried gym time: Weights, run, sauna. I’m not sure when I became a person who finds a 2 hour gym session luxurious but apparently that’s who I am now. At this precise moment Zeke and I are about 60 miles from Bentonville, Arkansas, where my sister lives. Tomorrow we’ll do  a college tour at U of A in Fayetteville, then drive home. 📚 Read A Better Man by Louise Penny. Also FINALLY returned the stack of horrifically overdue library books. SORRY I’M SO SORRY. 📺 Started rewatching season 4 of Slow Horses because I realized I never watched season 5! But then I didn’t remember what happened in season 4 so I’m watching it again before I watch season 5. 🩻 I’m starting Anatomy & Physiology 1 class tomorrow so that’s probably all I’m gonna be able to think or talk about for the next 8 weeks. BONES! MUSCLES! ORGANS! ALSO TISSUES! 💪 3x weight training. I moved up to 40lb dumbbells on bulgarian split squats. I like to start every workout with some split squats because then you know you’ve already done the worst possible thing. 👟 2 runs and hit over 12k steps every day. 🐈‍⬛ 1x Goobie took over my journal. I know Amazon is the devil. Don’t @ me. I know Amazon is the devil. Don’t @ me.

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annie's blog 4 months ago

Adorable tiny skulls // Week 22 — 2026

Sunday came, Sunday went, but the notes can be week notes any day they want to be. Current situation: Monday 25 May: Memorial Day, also hospital day. Having to work certain holidays is a new thing for me. The long light days of summer begin. Lat night it was light until well after 8. Pool is open now. Hasn’t been very warm yet but that will change quickly. We’re a week away from June. Tuesday 26 May:  Thinking about the cost of optimizing: The more you optimize, the more difficult it is to be flexible. A danger of losing resilience. There’s an underlying principle at work here. Stress creates resilience. — Scott Hogan, Built from Broken On the other hand: A nervous system that is constantly in sympathetic mode cannot hold complexity. — Nate Hagens, A Framework for Action (YouTube link) Wednesday 27 May: Back to runnnning. I did a Couch ➡︎ 5K program over March and April, ended in early May. Took a few weeks off. Wasn’t sure how I’d do today but all the muscles seem to remember what to do. Now I’m pleasantly tired, my legs are sore, and I feel amazing. I kind of wish running didn’t feel so good because it’s also so goddamn awful. Got Rob all moved out today. 😭 It’s fine, it’s good, he’s ready, it’s great, it’s time, blah blah blah blah blah I hate it. He’s still in town, at least. Thursday 28 May: One of those days where there are too many things. We gotta quit with all the things. So many things. One thing then another thing. LET ME NAP. The linden trees are blooming and they smell amazing. Also the magnolias. After everything, the wild went on. Of course it did. — Moonbound , Robin Sloan Friday 29 May: You know you are genuinely in old-person territory when sleeping till 7 feels late. Also, impossible to sleep past 7. My back has a strict time limit on when it must no longer be on a mattress. I find this upsetting and unfair. 💜 Mara here for the weekend! Saturday 30 May: Hospital day. I have GOT to get better about having some sort of dinner mostly prepped on hospital days because otherwise I come home and just eat whatever I can grab like a starved maniac. Gremlin mode activates. I just stood in the kitchen shoveling stale old potato chips in my mouth for… I don’t know how long. Let’s not talk about this anymore. Sunday 31 May: Hiking church. Very muddy after all the rain. Delightful water sounds everywhere. Spontaneous tattoo time, thanks to Mara who had her tattoo stuff with her and  just casually freehand drew this design on my wrist from a couple of inspo pics I found. It’s a blackberry vine with a few tiny skulls. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. 📚 Finished Moonbound by Robin Sloan. Excellent. I loved it. Cozy but in the way I want cozy to be when I try to read a cozy genre book and am inevitably disappointed (bored?). This one is the feeling. …. other things happened like I remember going to the gym at least twice? OH WAIT FUCK YEAH I PR’D BENCHPRESS BABY!! 115 POUNDS. That was satisfying. I want to write more about that Nate Hagens which I have not finished watching but which is really good but I am too tired. To sum up: A week (or so) has passed, I was alive, I did things or did not do things, here we are, me and the adorable tiny skulls are ready for sleep now.

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annie's blog 4 months ago

Oh to be a snail feasting on a sycamore // Week 21 — 2026

Are these weeknotes again ? Yes they are! Is this a fluke or is it a trend? Who knows! Who cares! Let’s do iiiiiittttttt. Current situation: Monday 18 May: Went for a walk early, before the rain set in. I adore a rainy day. Got a lot of work done. Afternoon thing canceled due to power outage from the storm. Evening thing canceled due to it being outdoors. Busy day became cozy day. Did an interview for a freelance piece. Do you have questions about EoE? I might have answers 1 . Thinking about studying but not studying. I should just study. Tuesday 19 May: Hospital day. Walking out to my car I happened to go past a young couple leaving the hospital with their brand-new baby. Mom sitting in backseat, leaning over, looking, exhausted smile. A glimpse of tiny baby face nestled in. Dad checking and rechecking the car seat, slowly easing the door shut, hustling around to the driver’s door. A precious, unrepeatable moment I was lucky enough to observe. Grammar books were my books of prayer. Looking up words in the dictionary was for me an image of goodness. The endless endless task of learning new words was for me an image of life. — A Word Child , Iris Murdoch Wednesday 20 May: Long walk in the morning listening to podcasts. Trying to brush up on my Spanish so it doesn’t fade away entirely. I don’t think this conversational listening podcast is gonna do it but maybe it will help. When I can’t make a decision I’m usually overcomplicating the context and overestimating the impact. A veces no me gusta tomar decisiones. Thursday 21 May: Early morning meeting. Long walk. Work. Last day of school. For Lily, last day of middle school. If I squint and tilt my head I can see the light at the end of the school-parent journey. Then I start crying. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY FEELINGS ALL THE TIME. Anyway here’s a flower. Another Official and Exceedingly Delightful Meeting of the Cunty Bitches Book Club. We talked about books for 10 minutes. It’s fine, books aren’t even the point. Friday 22 May: Made shrimp and collard greens and cornbread for dinner. Mom used to boil collard greens with a ham hock. I sauté them in bacon grease. Won’t change a thing about her cornbread recipe, though. It’s perfection. It  is all a question of weeding out what you yourself like best to do, so  that you can live most agreeably in a world full of an increasing number  of disagreeable surprises. — The Art of Eating , M.F.K. Fisher Saturday 23 May: Hospital day. Hit 10,000 steps by 12 but things were fairly quiet all afternoon, so only 15k total for the day. Sunday 24 May: Hiking church. Look at this snail feasting on a downed sycamore. 💪 Three gym sessions: push/pull/legs. Sauna every time. Benched 95 lbs, my max so far. Maybe I’ll hit 100 next week. 👟 Four long walks and a nice hike. 🎵 Leave Me When I Need You // Lahra 📚 Continued A Word Child by Iris Murdoch. Started The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich. Dipped into The Art of Eating by M.F.K. Fisher. Started Moonbound by Robin Sloan. Reread a bit of Finite and Infinite Games 2 by James P. Carse. 🔗 I Did Not Come to This Kids Party for an AI Sermon // Justin Ribeiro h/t Baldur Bjarnason The quagmire is clear; to engage with the preachers is to legitimize not  only the sermon but rather the dominant hierarchy that the viewpoint  attempts to crystalize. That hierarchy is not one of “the AI fulfills  your needs” but rather the external force that AI is is inevitable and  places a radical demand on your life—you may not want to use it, but its  placement in applications you use places demands on you. The sermon is  no different; it places a radical demand for you to engage, with someone  who is either ill-informed or worse, well-informed and willing to seek  gains at your expense. 🔗 Friction deserves a better reputation // Nicholas Bate What costs something to produce tends to be better than something which  costs nothing. The slow letter beats the careless message every time. I agree. 3 🔗 Prepare your no and keep it handy // Derek Sivers It’s so handy in those high-pressure moments where someone is looking  you in the eyes, asking you to do something, and awaiting your answer. No problem! You have it memorized and ready-to-go, even when unexpected. You can be kind but decisive on the spot. A good practice . I leave you with this cautionary reminder: Eosinophilic esophagitis. It’s becoming much more common. Caused by food allergies but the triggers aren’t obvious as symptoms/reactions build over a long period of time. The gist is if you have trouble swallowing or keeping food down, it’s not normal, get it checked out, symptoms do worsen without treatment. This is not medical advice. I can’t find anything I’ve written about this book but I know I’ve written about this book this is one of my favorite books wtf I must remedy this situation immediately OMG I AM LOVING THE PIKA LINK SEARCH FEATURE Eosinophilic esophagitis. It’s becoming much more common. Caused by food allergies but the triggers aren’t obvious as symptoms/reactions build over a long period of time. The gist is if you have trouble swallowing or keeping food down, it’s not normal, get it checked out, symptoms do worsen without treatment. This is not medical advice. I can’t find anything I’ve written about this book but I know I’ve written about this book this is one of my favorite books wtf I must remedy this situation immediately OMG I AM LOVING THE PIKA LINK SEARCH FEATURE

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annie's blog 5 months ago

It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese // Week 20 — 2026

Are these weeknotes? Yes they are! Will I do them again next week? Who knows! Sunday 10 May: Got home from hospital shift around 7:30pm. Exhausted, hangry. Walked into a clean tidy home, flowers and cards, and the kids cooking dinner (spring roll bowls which were so so so good). Plus! a NEW CHAIR for the balcony. We ate and talked and did that thing where you laugh so hard you cry. Then I sat on my new balcony chair & had some nice bourbon while they cleaned everything up. Anyway it was a great Mother's Night 💗 More spaces in my life for uncensored unfettered thinking. Less platform, more workshop. Less stage, more garage. Less producing, more tinkering. Tuesday 12 May: Took a sick day. Felt off, sore throat, achy yesterday. Woke up with the full experience. This was to be an uncomfortably busy day and instead I am canceling all the things I can. Left with a couple of items to do from the comfort of the couch. Hot tea. Window open. Cats sitting in the sun. Breeze and blue sky outside. If I feel enough energy I’ll take a slow walk later. Dreamed about being evicted. Felt very real. Woke up panicked. Relieved to realize it was a dream and I have a two-year lease. Wednesday 13 May: Took my chemistry final. Not as difficult as anticipated! A relief, since I didn’t study as much as planned. “I want you to see all kinds,” he would say to her. “I want you to realize that this whole thing is just a grand adventure. A fine show. The trick is to play in it and look at it at the same time.” “What whole thing?” “Living. All mixed up. The more kinds of people you see, and the more things you do, and the more things that happen to you, the richer you are. Even if they’re not pleasant things. That’s living. Remember, no matter what happens, good or bad, it’s just so much” — he used the gambler’s term, unconsciously — “just so much velvet.” —from So Big by Edna Ferber Denial and suffering may be good methods for undoing the old / destructing but they are not good methods for creating / constructing what you actually wish to build. Thursday 14 May: Still sick. Tried to do a bit of work. Mostly just rested. Feeling somewhat better but end of day. Friday 15 May: Mara’s college graduation day. Those two years have flown by. Many feelings! So proud of her. Saturday 16 May: Lily’s birthday! A weekend full of celebrations. Took her and a group of friends to one of those combo bowling / laser tag / arcade / overstimulation places. They did all the things & had fun. I got some studying done. But is it doable? Sunday 17 May: Hiking church. Warm today, 70℉ when we started. Chubb Trail from West Tyson. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own power without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being.  …primarily Art is its own excuse, and it’s either Art or it’s something else. It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese. —from On Writing , Charles Bukowski 💪 One gym session (Monday) before the sickness took me out Tues-Thurs, then it was A Weekend of Events. Back to our regularly scheduled program next week, I hope. 👟 A few short walks, and a nice hike. 📺 Unfamiliar (loved it) and season 1 of The Thaw (liked it, will watch the rest). Lots of tv time with sick days. 📚 So Big by Edna Ferber (finished) and On Writing by Charles Bukowski. 🔗 The old world of tech is dying and the new cannot be born // Baldur Bjarnason No matter the flavour of Christianity, a core idea baked into every aspect of the religion is that singular revelatory events can fundamentally change the world. There’s the “before”. Then the “event”. Then an “after” that has been completely transformed. In Christianity itself this is usually associated with Christ’s chaotic transit schedule –  “He is here! He has left! He is about to arrive again! Now he’s leaving again! But he’s also somehow always been here! And not.”  – but the mode of thinking is common throughout literature, philosophy, and storytelling in the Christian west. 🔗 Letting things build // Tracy Durnell The way I often read non-fiction — snatches of twenty pages here, twenty pages there, putting a book down for two months (or two years) at a time — is  not conducive to *finishing* books, but I do find it conducive to thinking . Rich texts can take a while to sink in, so I’ll jump to another book while I let the first one marinate. 🔗 You are here // Sebastian As I approach my topics and ideas through writing—whether in the form of brief notes or by looking back when I pick up the journal and flip through its pages—a process of contextualization takes place. And that is important. For me, this is a form of metacognition: observing myself as I think and being able to analyze and categorize my thoughts “from the outside.” It doesn’t completely solve the black box problem of self-perception, nor does it eliminate the blind spot of the mind that seeks to explain itself from within itself, but it does make things a lot easier and more accessible.

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annie's blog 5 months ago

It’s a lot to process

… everything. I need to know less, but I know more. Trying to cultivate a life which allows me to know less while still participating in society requires me to know more and do more than simply laying back and passively allowing the unending flood of information to drown me. Please note that we are all being drowned. What is it that is drowning us? Information and misinformation. Part of the drowning is the effort required to try to distinguish between the two. You’re trying to keep your head above water and there are waves and in order to not be pulled under by a wave you have to quickly look at it (while it’s looming larger and larger above you) and decide: Real or not real? Looks real. Is it real? Decide! Quick! I think it’s worth noting that when people don’t seem interested in the distinction between real and not real it may not be that they don’t care about what’s real. It may be that their capacity, their energy, their ability to distinguish is less than yours. And here I am. I’m adding to the information by writing this and publishing it. How do I feel about that? Weird. Really terribly weird and odd and disjointed and uncertain. Perhaps it would be better to stfu, one part of me says. Sometimes that is absolutely what is best. But not always. I don’t know about a lot of things. I can’t have that many opinions. I can’t understand that many issues. I can’t research that many topics. And I don’t like the pressure to be certain about things. All the things, all the time. It’s okay to say I don’t know . What I do know: I am real. Here’s a vignette: I’m on my balcony. Of course I’m on my balcony. I love this tiny little space. I mention it. I post photos sometimes, the sunset view through power lines or my feet up on a small table that wasn’t meant to be outdoor furniture. I can hear a kiddo inside talking to his girlfriend on the phone. The traffic, slowing but still there, on the road. The sound of neighbors as they walk in, talking softly. Here’s what I want to tell you. First, let’s imagine you’re here on the balcony too. There’s another chair. Let me know if you want a beverage. We have options. Don’t worry about the cats. I promise they won’t jump off. I want to tell you that I am real and you are real and that’s enough to know right now.

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annie's blog 5 months ago

GOOSE IT UP

I’m in school again. I’m going back to school because my work, my entire career, for my entire adult life, has been writing things for the Internet. That’s going away, at least as a livable career option. By livable, I mean an option I can live with . When I started writing for the Internet, early 2000s, I could find decent paying gigs on Craigslist. A quarter a word wasn’t uncommon. It wasn’t easy — I spent a lot of time searching and researching and answering inane qualifiers and writing samples for zero money. So we’re not talking about a pot of gold at the end of the freelance writing rainbow. But you could gather enough gold thru your efforts to make it worthwhile. I wasn’t pleased when SEO became a thing I had to do to keep working. I am less pleased with AI. I have been lucky and somewhat insulated for the last year or two but things change, and I can see the trend. I still have a job with a great team but already the work is shifting in a direction I do not want to go. So, I am not going. I am making a different choice. I am choosing a different direction. I am goosing it up , baby. I have started over several times in my life. New places, new communities, new jobs, new scenarios, new perspectives. I feel, at this point, that I have lived a few complete different lifetimes already. That’s kinda cool, even if it’s not always by choice . Starting over requires a lot of energy but it also a relief. Every time I start over I establish a new baseline. I get to reset. I get to peruse my space, both exterior and interior, and declutter: Throw out old junk, worn-out habits, misplaced loyalties, dusty grievances, faded beliefs. Starting over, at any scale, always means leaving things behind . You do some grieving , releasing , mud-scraping . You definitely light up the bullshit cabinet (there’s no better time really). Hopefully you also do a lot of self care . Then you take the next step. And the next. Along the way you decide who you get to be now.

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annie's blog 6 months ago

When (not) to break rules

You’ve got to think about big things while you’re doing small things, so that all the small things go in the right direction. — Alvin Toffler A rule (or boundary) turns a theoretical or philosophical stance into a clearly defined behavior: Do this , and your behaviors align with your belief. Congruence. Do that , and you miss it. Conflict. Internal conflict doesn't feel good. Break dumb rules . Break arbitrary small rules (or don’t). Break rules that exist only to create convenience for one group of people. Break rules that are immoral even if they’re not illegal. Whenever you can, break rules that exist only to uphold a system . It’s important. Don’t break the rules that define who you are… …Unless that’s not who you want to be anymore. Break all the rules that define who you are if you didn’t choose them, don’t want them, or don’t like how they fit anymore. Break ‘em all the time. Break them into pieces. Be prepared for a breakdown of your existing self too, since that’s what you’re doing.  Reconfiguring yourself is tough work and you’ll need to have naps and sometimes a small tantrum. Is there a rule in your heart that says you should feel the pain and bear the responsibility of things outside your control? This is a good rule to break. Break it now. Try it. Go ahead. Tough, huh? Feelings don’t cooperate with commands. They follow patterns, well-worn grooves. You have to keep at it for a while. You have to give yourself a new mantra and repeat it. You have to let your feelings be whatever they are and say, Okay that’s fine, yes, I hear you, ouch it sure does hurt! And then carry on about your business and remind yourself that feeling bad doesn’t change reality, so it’s okay to pay less attention to those bad feelings. Maybe over time they get quieter. Try it out, see what happens. I am against the pattern we seem to have developed as an intelligent but oh so emotional people of feeling bad as a way of bearing responsibility. I am against it because it’s nonsense. Nothing changes in the world because I feel bad about it. The bomb doesn’t reroute into an uninhabited wasteland. The layoffs don’t reverse. The cancer doesn’t curl up and wither away. The bullet doesn’t retreat into the gun. So this is a dumb rule and one worth breaking. Feeling bad about bad things doesn’t make you a good person. But it does drain your energy so there’s not much left for action. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Maybe there’s a better rule to put in place. Once you have determined the spiritual principles you wish to exemplify, abide by these rules as if they were laws. — Epictetus

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annie's blog 8 months ago

Contentment is a spectrum, too

I am quite content to be alone except on a mild evening at twilight. During the quick hours of the day I am busy. Busy with things I enjoy doing, for the most part. Or busy with people I enjoy being around. I count myself among the luckiest alive. During the night I am dreaming. Night is dreaming time whether I am asleep or awake. The dreams are all mine. I stretch out in the bed and in my mind. I  never had such space before. Even in my childhood, my dreams were so small, so bordered. Always tied to some other person, some predetermined identity, some set of standards to uphold. Now my dreams and I can wander at will. For this spaciousness, this freedom, I gladly pay the price of whatever loneliness may peek over the headboard or rattle in the closet. I don’t mean fantasies, here. Though the physical need for another person, another body, is real and present. That’s just a fact of being human, for most of us.  Not loneliness so much as lust. I handle both with the means at hand, and am largely content. But twilight comes. On a cold winter day, twilight enhances the coziness of my space, my routine, the comforts of my home and children and friends and hobbies. I can make a pot of stew and dance in the kitchen and get lost in a book and there are no emotions to navigate but my own. This is a peace I do not take lightly. But twilight comes. Twilight comes on a day when the windows are open and the light is mellow. The sunset streaks of gray and orange and blue linger behind a row of trees. I want to turn to someone and say, Look. The music filters through an open door as a bird sings. I want to turn to someone and say, Listen. I want to let this awe and gratitude bubble out and be seen for a moment by another person before it lifts up and away and disappears, as all things do. I want to be a point of reflection for someone else’s awe and wonder. Or pain. We all contain multitudes. Contentment is a spectrum. As is loneliness. I have been together and I have been alone. Loneliness is part of both experiences but it has different flavors. I have been together and I have been alone. Contentment is part of both experiences but it too has different flavors. We have to decide, each moment, what problem we are solving. Sometimes we get so busy solving the problem of loneliness, or lust, or ambition, or insecurity, or sadness, or fear, that we don’t see the larger context. Our larger context, our story, in which this one emotion, this one want , is but a single piece. A significant one, perhaps. But not the wholeness of our being. I want to fold things in, not push them away.

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annie's blog 8 months ago

Feeling something is okay I guess

Most of us think of ourselves as thinking creatures that feel, but we are actually feeling creatures that think. ― Jill Bolte Taylor If you’re not feeling as good about life as you want to be, that’s okay. If you feel stressed about a lot of things, that’s okay. If you get nervous, that’s okay. If you feel overwhelmed, that’s okay. If you freak out and yell, that’s okay. If you break down and cry, that’s okay. If the uncertainty of every little thing is panic-inducing, that’s okay. If your feelings fling you around, if you bounce between longing for the familiar and longing for the unknown, if you don’t know what you’ll feel any given moment, that’s okay too. If you feel rushed and boxed in and panicked and unsure and unsettled and overwhelmed and under pressure and inadequate and afraid, that’s okay. It’s not fun. It’s probably not how you want to feel. But here we are. You, me, the feelings. All the feelings are part of this experience. Right now. Take a deep breath. Oh, hello. I am also here, on part of this planet, breathing. Take another deep breath. I’ll do the same. Okay. That’s not much better but it’s a little better. Sometimes we don’t get to good. Good is a privilege. A gift. A delight, when it happens, when we’re in it. But we don’t always get to be in it. And that’s okay. It helps to remember that good still exists, is still real, even when you’re not in it. The possibility of good is always present. The more you reach for it the more possible it becomes. Meanwhile, survival. Keeping on. Treading water. Breathing. If you cover up your feelings with a veneer of calm, that’s okay. If you avoid the unpleasant and the negative, if you run from the deep discomfort of feelings you have not yet named, that’s okay. If you turn sadness into anger because it’s easier, that’s okay. If you choose frustration over vulnerability, that’s okay. If you don’t want to face the guilt or shame rustling beneath the surface, that’s okay. If the fear pushes its way up your throat until you have to scream or cry, that’s okay. All we are is children and sometimes we are afraid of the dark. It’s okay to be there, wherever you are with it. It’s okay to let it be. It’s okay to let yourself be. If the dark feelings come, you can let them be, too. They will seem like heavy burdens, like stones, like looming mountains, like terror or death. But they pass like clouds. They are not something you have to climb or conquer, just something you have to endure. Don’t spend your energy fighting the feelings. We have other work to do. And we cannot do the work we are able to do if we are too busy hiding from the feelings. So let them be. Let them wash over you, through you. In and out like waves. It may feel like you will drown. Keep breathing through the waves. Cry or scream or run or hug or whatever helps you keep breathing. Darkness cannot drive out light. The clouds come and pass. The waves rise and recede. The world remains and here we are, in it. What can we do to make it better? Here are some ideas .

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annie's blog 9 months ago

To be defeated by ever greater things

How small that is, with which we wrestle, what wrestles with us, how immense; were we to let ourselves, the way things do, be conquered thus by the great storm,— we would become far-reaching and nameless. What we triumph over is the Small, and the success itself makes us petty. The Eternal and Unexampled will not be bent by us. …growth is: to be the deeply defeated by ever greater things. from  The Man Watching by Rainer Maria Rilke

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annie's blog 9 months ago

To sigh a deep sigh of releasing

Today has felt like a deep, deep exhalation, an enormous, slow, long sigh of relief and releasing. Fitting, perhaps, that it is winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. I don’t have any rituals to mark it except for this one, what I’m doing right now: sitting on the couch with a cat curled by my legs, sipping whiskey, tapping these small words into a space that isn’t real (digital? website? internet? can’t possibly be real) but will somehow, perhaps, be read by actual real people in actual real places. Hello, friends. How are you? How are you, what are you, where are you, why are you, what’s happening with you, what are you thinking about, what’s humming in the back corners of your brain, what does your heart know right now, what makes your breath come faster or slower, how do you feel about this moment, what do you hope for, what do you fear, what would you ask for, what wishes do you hold tender and close, what desires do you lean away from, what rooms are laid bare, which doors are closed and which ones opened, what candles are you lighting and watching on this the longest night? I have a few candles lit. I know what I would ask for and what I do ask for. Tonight is the time to look at the space between those points. To consider. To sigh a deep sigh of releasing. What could be different if we did not drag the past with us into the future? Let us lay aside every weight that hinders us and the errors that so easily entangle us so we can move forward (with patience — gently, child, gently) on the road we walk, the reality of this moment which is all that we ever have

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annie's blog 10 months ago

Do you want to read a detailed post about eyelid surgery? Here it is. With photos.

I find this sort of thing fascinating. I looked for detailed info before my own surgery because I like to know what I’m getting into. If you’re grossed out by surgical/medical descriptions or photos, skip this one. So I had this spot — like a pimple or small wart — appear under my right eye years ago. 2017, 2018? Sometime in there. It was very small, directly under/partially on the lash line near the inside corner of my right eye. Not really noticeable, didn’t hurt or itch or grow or change so I didn’t worry about it 1 . Anyway over the last year it got a bit bigger, so I had it checked out. My dermatologist did a biopsy. Result: basal cell carcinoma. So I needed to have the spot removed. Due to its location, it was likely the lid margin 2 would be affected. So after the removal, I’d need eyelid reconstruction surgery by an ophthalmic surgeon. Here’s how they do it: They schedule the Mohs surgeries 3 in the morning. They schedule the reconstruction surgeries the same afternoon. They do this because Mohs surgeries can take… hours. They don’t know till they’re doing it. The surgeon takes off the cancerous area and a layer of the skin around it, then examines it under a microscope. If they still see carcinoma cells 4 , they take off another layer. Inspect the removed layer. Repeat until there are no carcinoma cells visible in the removed layer. The removal is quick. The inspection takes longer. So each “layer” (removal + inspection) can be over an hour. Once that’s done, they either sew you up there or send you off for reconstruction surgery. I was at the hospital from 7am to 5pm. Most of that time was spent waiting. The Mohs surgery required two layers removed. I was done there around 9:30. They bandaged my eye and sent me off for reconstruction which was scheduled for…. 2:30pm. So, yeah, lots of waiting. Mohs surgery Local anesthetic (needle in the cheek below the right eyelid). They lean you back in a chair and tuck surgical drapes around the area. Assisting docs hold the head still and hold the eyelid open or closed or whatever it needs to be. It’s pretty surreal to see a scalpel coming directly toward your eyeball. But the most surreal part was hearing the snip-snip-snip of scissors knowing it’s my skin  that’s being snipped off my face . Pain: none. They gave me another shot of anesthetic right before they patched me up which was nice. Hungry (no eating allowed before the reconstruction surgery). Did some Christmas shopping. Pirate impressions. Thought about food. Went to the bathroom a couple of times to peek under the bandage and make sure my eye was still there. Then the anesthetic wore off so I didn’t need to do that anymore. Contemplated the hierarchy of snacks. Assured 4 different nurses that there is zero possibility of pregnancy, no really, I promise, I do not have a uterus . Speaking of the beast (not) in me: Watched a couple of episodes of The Beast In Me . Looked at the entire Internet. Thought about food some more. Napped a little. Eyelid reconstruction Sedation (via IV) plus local anesthetic. I was very relaxed and full of warm happy thoughts. This part was fascinating: The removal took about half the width of my eyelid rim above the area of removed tissue. They took skin from my left eyelid and grafted it on. To do that, they cut right along the crease of my left eyelid, removed some skin, and sutured the eyelid back together. Then they sewed those two strips of skin (I think it was two, I was a little drowsy) below my right eye, creating a new portion of eyelid rim and filling the hole. Amazing that we can do this stuff. The surgery itself took about an hour. Recovery was quick. I was home eating a giant Chipotle bowl very soon after. It was delicious. Pain: minimal. Took Tylenol that first night and following day, then didn’t need it again. Antiobiotic ointment applied 3x a day. This is annoying as fuck because I have to make sure I get a lot of ointment on that lid margin (very important to keep it moisturized) which means some ointment always gets in my eye so vision is blurred for an hour+ every time I apply. Swelling: yes. Bruising: some. Not as much as I anticipated. Itchy and irritated: YES. OMG. I get the dressing & sutures off tomorrow morning and I CANNOT WAIT. Here’s how it looks today (six days post-op): Oh, what’s that? You were hoping for an EYELID SURGERY RECOVERY MONTAGE of POOR QUALITY PHOTOS documenting the healing process from DAY 1 TO DAY 6 POST-OP? I’ve got that right here for you. Also I did not have health insurance at the time so even if I had been worried about it I probably wouldn’t have done anything. Say you're in the U.S. without saying you’re in the U.S. The eyelid margin is the “edge” of the eyelid. Also known as the mucocutaneous margin. Eyelashes grow from the margin & there are glands that produce oil to help keep the eye moisturized. Detailed explanation of  Mohs Micrographic Surgery . Molecular imaging of different skin cancer cells vs normal skin cells. Local anesthetic (needle in the cheek below the right eyelid). They lean you back in a chair and tuck surgical drapes around the area. Assisting docs hold the head still and hold the eyelid open or closed or whatever it needs to be. It’s pretty surreal to see a scalpel coming directly toward your eyeball. But the most surreal part was hearing the snip-snip-snip of scissors knowing it’s my skin  that’s being snipped off my face . Pain: none. They gave me another shot of anesthetic right before they patched me up which was nice. Hungry (no eating allowed before the reconstruction surgery). Did some Christmas shopping. Pirate impressions. Thought about food. Went to the bathroom a couple of times to peek under the bandage and make sure my eye was still there. Then the anesthetic wore off so I didn’t need to do that anymore. Contemplated the hierarchy of snacks. Assured 4 different nurses that there is zero possibility of pregnancy, no really, I promise, I do not have a uterus . Speaking of the beast (not) in me: Watched a couple of episodes of The Beast In Me . Looked at the entire Internet. Thought about food some more. Napped a little. Sedation (via IV) plus local anesthetic. I was very relaxed and full of warm happy thoughts. This part was fascinating: The removal took about half the width of my eyelid rim above the area of removed tissue. They took skin from my left eyelid and grafted it on. To do that, they cut right along the crease of my left eyelid, removed some skin, and sutured the eyelid back together. Then they sewed those two strips of skin (I think it was two, I was a little drowsy) below my right eye, creating a new portion of eyelid rim and filling the hole. Amazing that we can do this stuff. The surgery itself took about an hour. Recovery was quick. I was home eating a giant Chipotle bowl very soon after. It was delicious. Pain: minimal. Took Tylenol that first night and following day, then didn’t need it again. Antiobiotic ointment applied 3x a day. This is annoying as fuck because I have to make sure I get a lot of ointment on that lid margin (very important to keep it moisturized) which means some ointment always gets in my eye so vision is blurred for an hour+ every time I apply. Swelling: yes. Bruising: some. Not as much as I anticipated. Itchy and irritated: YES. OMG. I get the dressing & sutures off tomorrow morning and I CANNOT WAIT. Also I did not have health insurance at the time so even if I had been worried about it I probably wouldn’t have done anything. Say you're in the U.S. without saying you’re in the U.S. The eyelid margin is the “edge” of the eyelid. Also known as the mucocutaneous margin. Eyelashes grow from the margin & there are glands that produce oil to help keep the eye moisturized. Detailed explanation of  Mohs Micrographic Surgery . Molecular imaging of different skin cancer cells vs normal skin cells.

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annie's blog 10 months ago

Telling myself stories

To tell the story of your life would take another life of equal length. There is no such thing as a true story because every story, to be told, must leave out something. And every something left out matters. It’s all the somethings that lead us to one point and then another; it’s all the somethings that merge into reality; it’s all the somethings , subconscious and conscious, that make up our experience. I can tell you a story, I can tell you my stories, I can tell you many versions of many moments of many stories of my life, and still: No one will ever know the life I live. And no one will ever know the life you live. This is true. I am a child. Alive in a loving family. Growing up in a small Mississippi town, 1980s edition. I am: Unsure, voracious, timid, curious, wild. I keep my wildness locked up in a small box, shelved in my heart’s interior room. I memorize courtesies. I swallow down rules. I want to be good. I want to be good. I want to be good. I ask questions using polite words and careful tones. I learn that some questions cannot be asked even this way. I am loved, I am safe, and I am trying very hard to push the shape of myself into the slots around me. None of them fit. I try harder. I find ways to trim off those awkward bits of self, to unwind and tuck down those sideways curling threads of self, to starve thin into skeletal compliance those juicy curves of self. I am a child and I learn to read early and I eat books like snacks. When all the feelings choke off my air, books help me breathe. I move swiftly, with determination, like I have a purpose, through the children’s section of our small town library. The picture books. The rhyming books. The early chapter books. Gulp them down. I cruise onward to the teen section. It’s small. I dive headlong into the adult section. My mother, so careful in all other ways, so conscious of what might hurt me or bring me to some truth I should not face, never thinks that books hold danger. I read without limits, without reservation, without pause. And I discover: lives I had not dreamed of, and cannot know, fully, ever. Here, in stories tucked away on a shelf, is enough to teach a girl in the southern United States a small but essential truth of what it is to be a thousand other things, to live a thousand other lives. I step into the larger world. I am a queen, I am a prostitute, I am shipwrecked, I am starving,  I am fighting a war, I am tending a field, I am an ecstatic nun, I am a murderer, I am I am I am I am I am I am until the last page turns and I wake up in my own room, disoriented. Myself, but more than myself. Myself, but larger, a little louder, unfurling, fattening up. None of these stories are complete. Most are not even factual. And yet: They are true. I am an adult. I have within me a picture of what this means and I try to live up to it. It is an odd thing to be. I have responsibilities. I make decisions, so many decisions. I am still unsure, voracious, curious, wild. Less timid, now. I do not knock on doors and wait, polite. I push them open. I walk in. I look around and decide if it is a space I want to be in. Then I stay or I go. I still want to be good, but I have learned I get to define it for myself. I am unlearning domestication. I am telling myself stories. They are true because I make them true.

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