Yah.

I don’t know what that means, but that’s what came to mind. So I figure that it’s time for a stream-of-consciousness blogging kind of post.

It’s been same old same old sort of throughout the week - by that I mean a lot of work anxiety and other anxiety that I get very tempted to write about and then say “nah.”

So maybe that’s where “yah” comes from - a compulsion to ack-sensuate the positive on this blog.

You know, I really ought to write up some kind of profile so that my new readers can get a bit more of an accurate reading of me, I suppose. I updated my 100 Things meme on a separate page for a while and deleted it on an impulse. Quite a few of these items have changed. I think that the page “Nyuk nyuk nyuk” sums me and this blog up pretty well in a general way.

Sometimes I think that people can’t figure out my politics because I don’t write much about politics, other than occasional ranting against politicians in general. In case you’re wondering, I lean way-y-y-y to the left. Democrats piss me off almost as often as Republicans but they don’t scare me nearly as much. They mainly bug me because of a lack of backbone, but things seem to be getting a little better. I guess I identify with Libertarians somewhat, but I have a big problem with the free trade thing. I wouldn’t say that I’m an anarchist. Ralph Nader turned me away from the Greens when he didn’t pull out of that oh-so-important election. Every now and then, I meet a Republican who is totally shocked to find out that I am not one of them. I don’t know why I give out that vibe. Is it the heavy drawl?

I don’t understand Republicans, and feel a little sorry for them. I don’t mean that to sound condescending, but the ones that do seem to have a firm grasp of the facts are embarrassed and a little freaked out, and the others are in total denial. The Republicans who are fiscally conservative, I sympathize with. Their party left them ages ago. I do like a few of them. I’m related to a few Republicans. The ones for other reasons, I just don’t know where their heads are. And so many of them are just plain mean. I don’t like mean people, especially the ones who don’t know they’re mean. (By the way, just in case you’re tempted, mean comments will be deleted. This is my journal and I’m not a masochist. Go insult someone else if you are so inclined. :-b…)

I’ve never gotten over the fact that I held my nose and voted for Clinton twice just to get my man Al in position to see it stolen from him. Watching Hilary now makes me nauseated. I don’t know who I’ll root for in the primary, but it sure won’t be her. I didn’t know last time either, but I knew it wasn’t Kerry. He got the nomination way too soon, in my opinion. Right now I’m leaning toward Edwards, but sheesh. Al, please. Come back, we need you.

I don’t write so much about food politics any more because it makes me tired to think about it. And I wondered who the hell did I think I was, to posit myself as being some kind of teacher about this. There are much better sources of news about food politics. But I do think about it. In the middle of the night, when I should be sleeping.

Lately I’ve been a little anxious, sleep-deprived, and clinically depressed. I feel pretty good tonight, although that might be the organic Prosecco talking. The bottle that I bought to celebrate my birthday about three months ago and forgot about. After a week like this, I was happy to remember it tonight. I’m not a wine snob. In fact, I know next to nothing about wine. But I enjoyed Prosecco when I was in Italy and it was on sale at Earth Fare for $9.95 after New Year’s Eve. I’ll bet you $10 that I’ll sleep tonight. Then I’ll be able to buy me another bottle of Prosecco.

One of the things that I decided to do when I realized that people were actually reading this blog was to be honest about my problems. I am twisted, but adorably so if you get to know me. Good luck with that, though. I’m cautious. I’m insecure about people.

I have a genetic disposition toward panic disorder. I’m a recovering agoraphobic. It colors everything I do. But I’m healing. And I want to show other people who are going through this that it’s possible to heal, and I understand the struggle. I struggle every day, but it gets better every day.

I have a very dry sense of humor that a lot of people are uncomfortable with. I noticed that today when I made a joke to three graduate students after their comprehensive exams. I told them to go get drunk or get ice cream. They responded, wearily and kindly after six hours of essay writing, that they hoped I would get some rest (I was exhausted and they knew it) and I said that I would get ice cream, since I got drunk last night. I could tell that this joke confused them. One laughed, one didn’t, and one made a noise that sounded very strange. Maybe I shouldn’t make jokes like that. Every now and then I can’t resist reminding them that I am human.

Although those two pints of Smithwick’s were good last night. I do know good beer.

I’ll get over myself. There is a lot of great stuff going on, actually. Slow Food is kicking into gear. I’ll go to a GREAT potluck at an awesome farm tomorrow night. I’m going to go on vacation and weave hats for a week only a little over a week from now. One of the students said that I probably won’t have a classmate under 20. I’m totally sure I won’t and I might be the youngest person there. THAT’S A GOOD THING.

Perceptions. Yah.

I hope that I have a lead on Freecycle to pick up a bunch of broken paving stones for my paths tomorrow. I’ve never used Freecycle before.

What’s really funny is that I started out to write about what I did in the garden tonight. But I like this better. I just got a lot off my chest that I won’t be staring at the ceiling thinking about at 3:30 a.m.