Join Me In Documenting The Tasty, Sad, Sweet Endings Of Things

I was walking around late yesterday afternoon, thinking along to myself about the kinds of things I was in the mood to write about, and it struck me that I was going to forget before I got home to write it all down, because that's what happens, doesn't it?

So, I whipped out my iPhone and recorded my thinking-aloud-while-walking, and I ended up inviting us all to share our stories of the tasty, sad, sweet endings of things:



It being fall, it just seems right to curl up with a cup of coffee and savour the last bits of things, and not to mourn them, really, but to let the flavour of them sink in.

There are no rules here. Write three sentences, several paragraphs, or a poem. Post a photograph or a drawing or a collage. Post a vlog. Share something you created three years ago.

While I go and write about my tasty-sad-sweet-endings-of-things story, how about you go and write/photograph/draw/vlog/knit yours, and then we can all virtually meet back here by linking to our stories through the SimplyLinked widget below:


The Tasty, Sad, Sweet Endings Of Things


I can't wait to see your tasty-sad-sweet-endings-of-things pieces. I imagine that they'll be mighty, um, tasty.

Autumn Is A Force With Which To Be Reckoned

Listening: Nick Lowe's "So It Goes":


DAMN IT.

See, I was doing so well. Hell, I wasn't just doing well. I was doing amazing. I passed my fourth hysterectomy anniversary on July 3rd, my second anniversary for quitting smoking is coming up on September 9th, and my first anniversay for sobriety from alcohol and drugs is in two days. My summer and early fall are populated by gigantic milestones that point to my ability to kick life's ass and stay alive, but...

BUT.

It's August 18th today, and, although the sun still feels warm, there is a cooler undercurrent in the wind, and the days are getting shorter. Autumn is nearly here, and my seasonal depression and anxiety is dropping in for its eight- or nine-month visit.

Where another person might be thankful for being four years post-cancer, two years into improved health post-smoking, and discovering their ability to make it through the first sober year of their adult life, this person is worrying that she will be diagnosed with cancer again, is still missing the tasty security of cigarettes, and is struggling to really accept the new sober life she has fought so hard to win, because, while it is very good, it is very unfamiliar.

And then there are all the other things that have made August an intense experience: BlogHer '11 raised me high and laid me low as it does every year, loved ones are mourning the death of their father, my own grandparents are struggling through dementia, my parents are struggling with their struggle, and I've been called in for a pap smear redo (which makes any cervical cancer survivor panic). The onset of my fall anxiety and depression takes all of this, multiplies it by twenty-seven, and then sits on my chest threatening me with gobs of spit.

Also, my heart feels broken.

I'll figure this out like I do every year. I'll up my dose of St. John's Wort, take valerian root when I can't sleep, and take extra time to mellow the fuck out in a sudsy bath. And I'll likely have an uneventful pap smear next week and my overall sobriety will likely weather the stress of its anniversaries. I will remember to eat my vegetables.

It's just that this part of the year is so damn hard. I feel like I am mourning some great loss, some unrecoverable history that is already being forgotten.

It's hard to remember that this is not the reality of the situation. Nothing is being lost. Everything is where I last saw it. My emotions right now are a reaction to reality, not the reality itself.

Still, though.

Still.

Somebody tell me something good. Here, I'll start.

I HAVE A NEW NEPHEW! AND I'M A FIRST-TIME AUNT! My brother and sister-in-law brought this gorgeous little being into the world just over a week ago, and I am, quite literally, reduced to tears when I look at pictures of him.



Now you. What really happy thing can you tell me about? We're turning this frown upside down, people. UPSIDE DOWN.

Sounding, But Not Exactly Water Depth

I’m really not sure why this is so fascinating for me. No, that is not exactly true. I am curious, like many people, about different sexual practices, why they are performed, and what they accomplish, whether I am personally interested in pursuing that vein or not. So, when I came across urethral sounding (also known as "stuffing"), I was intrigued. During all of my forays into finding out about the world of sex in all its varying forms, I had never heard of this practice. How had I missed such a thing? None of the books I have read ever mentioned it, nor did any of my friends, who are quite frank about such things, so I had to read on. After reading on, I have decided that it is an activity that requires too much preparation and caution for my tastes, but it was a rivetting subject nonetheless.***

It became fall today. No, really, today, not yesterday, today. The Fiery One and I walked out of our apartment building today and were met with falling leaves and an orangish hue in the air. There were subtle warning signs over the last week or two, such as a few yellow leaves on branches here and there, and the evenings were growing cooler, but nothing to convey the season’s full arrival today. We went to a friend’s going-away party, and as we drove down their street, tree after yellow tree drifted past. It was astonishing to see, but oh so welcome. I am a lover of Fall. Fall would be the season I would pick if I had to choose just one season for the rest of my life. You will never hear me complain about the crackling wash of fall leaves, or the great weather that lets you wear clothes from every season of your wardrobe, or the great, long, slow, slanting of the orange evening light.

This is not the most recent news, but flatulence is still funny.

Facts About Flatulence:
* The gas in our intestines comes from several sources: air we swallow, gas seeping into our intestines from our blood, gas produced by chemical reactions in our guts, and gas produced by bacteria living in our guts.
* The odour of farts comes from small amounts of hydrogen sulfide gas and mercaptans in the mixture. These compounds contain sulfur. Nitrogen-rich compounds such as skatole and indole also add to the stench of farts.
* Oh, sweet immaturity!
* Farts are flammable, because hydrogen and methane are flammable gases, but be careful, because one-quarter of people who ignite their farts get burned.
* All methane in people's farts comes from bacterial action and not from human cells.
* On average, a person produces about half a liter of fart gas per day distributed over an average of about fourteen daily farts.
* People have believed for centuries that retaining flatulence is bad for the health. Emperor Claudius even passed a law legalizing farting at banquets out of concern for peoples' health.
* At the beginning of the twentieth century, a French performer named Le Petomane earned his living by farting on stage.
* When in need of fart-related products, check out fartypants.com.

*** Now please do not run off to try this out on your own or with an inexperienced partner or with instruments that were not designed for this particular practice. It can be dangerous, so take care, thoroughly research the subject, and find learned practitioners to help you along before commencing on such a delicate undertaking.