I feel like I'm being that bitter mom. I have really tried letting go of my feelings over the bf and go with the "I'm happy if she is happy" but it isn't working well. He left an hour ago and I don't think he will be back til Thurs. not that he talked to me about it, that is just my inferance. See...bitter.

So that was a nice Christmas. I got an immersion blender with a whole bunch of cool attachments, and an original cover of a Saturday Evening Post from 1953 with a Norman Rockwell on it, and some ugly earrings from my mother which I may try to return to Macys. And I got to meet my new bicycle!

We had turkey and skipped the mashed potatoes in favor of a roasted root vegetable medley, which was rather healthier and far more flavorful (yam, sweet potato, turnip, rutabaga, purple potato, white potato, parsnip, beet, celery root). So tasty. And the pies went over well.

Stay safe, Buffistas! The weather here is crazy wet, but at least it's not freezing.

And now it's time for Yuletide, and the Doctor Who Christmas Special, woot.

My mother decided it would be simpler for her if we stayed in and she cooked (someone's in remission!), and the cousin who was supposed to be contributing food flaked, so dinner was "only" ham, curry goat, fish, rice and gungo peas, and roast breadfruit, with home made mince pies and Christmas cake as dessert. Sorrel (alkie and non), white wine, and Blue Mountain coffee were served to drink.

The dent in my head is really bothering me. Was it there when I had my hair cut? Did Colin notice the back of my head? Did my co-workers? Any nurses? It is also tender, and of course I ended up palpating in order to better determine its nature, so ow.

Big argument of the night was: could the medical system have caught and held Lanza if rules were less skewed towards personal liberty? I think no, not without enough false positives to render it effectively useless. Also, we don't have enough information (we the public--doctors on his case may or may not) to tell if he has something diagnosable that indicated he was headed in this direction.

I *knew* when the story broke that mentions of him being depressed were going to be a black mark against something perfectly run of the mill, and lo and behold, my cousin (still sore about the Gazebo Conspiracy) said she heard he had Asperger's and therefore depression, and that's why he did it. That took a bit of patience to unravel.

We have a rock bottom family member--I saw one picture from the wedding and I wanted to cry. I knew she had been spiralling downhill (the only reason she was allowed to go strapless to her wedding was that she wore opera gloves which covered her numerous suicide attempt scars), but it was shocking to see the delta. Apparently this has happened in the last few months--she was shockingly drawn and gaunt, down from a vivacious (sometimes terrifyingly so) woman who made it clear that Manic Pixie Dream Girls will steal your soul and your car when you sleep. Always brilliant, never able to regulate her behaviour--she has two children no one will let her parent, so she's trying to get pregnant again. She (36) wore dentures to her sister's wedding because she lost her four front teeth to bulimia (which pipped meth at the post) a while back. About a year ago, she jumped out of a two or three story window because "the voices told [her] to".

It's just really awful, but she seems to exhausted to be a danger to anyone but herself (which is a radical change from 15 years ago, when you risked being pulled into her madness and finding yourself stranded with a drugged (against her will, so cousin could nab her boyfriend) teenager across your lap, and your car is nowhere in sight).

Her family can't force her to take any of her meds or do anything a medical professional recommends, and she won't on her own, so they just remove the kids and keep her fed and clothed while she goes on her wild tears.

ita, that is indeed a disturbing looking dent. Have you passed out recently?!?

I have had a lovely evening with people who are basically family to me (my moms BFF from high school, who we grew up with like an aunt, and her daughters who are like cousins). Yay, catching up with them. And so far all looks good for catching my flight to Seattle tomorrow. Oy.

What a difficult place for your cousin and those that love her. I don't even think that best case scenarios even have the answers but the actual reality makes it harder, I think.

I have been having fun saying "But that's not the truth --you can't alter truth. That's just how it works." People here trust me a lot, but I was also right, so it works out.

I want people to believe me just because I say (and it IS) the truth.

I have head bumps but they go out, not dents. I had two removed when I had coverage and they were benign cysts. Though, obviously denting my skull in a decent bit and squishing things.

Wow, ita, that's awful about your cousin.

We had turkey and skipped the mashed potatoes in favor of a roasted root vegetable medley,

That's funny -- we skipped our recent-traditional roasted root vegetables in favor of mashed potatoes, at my request. And I made them with extra butter and they were fucking delicious. I wonder if my mother will give me the leftover.

I declined a breakfast invitation with some family friends, which was an excellent call, because I slept late! And feel good.

Happy birthday to Theodosia, Rayne, and me!

Hippo birdies, birthday twins!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSE, THEODOSIA, AND RAYNE!

I have a sudden urge to call you the Three Kings of something. Three Kings of Happy Birthday? I dunno, that's not it...

Colin says he didn't remember it, but he doesn't remember it not being there.

My parents are having parent freakouts. They suggested daily checkins to make sure I am alright, which I flatly refused, along with any "make contact in a certain time period or else we call SWAT to your apartment" Because I will set that off, they will freak out, and it will be nothing I want to add to my day.

Then they insisted on Colin's number, because he's clearly my best friend, so...NO Colin's number is of no use to you. You have no idea ow often he travel, or how busy he gets--it's not like we're in each other's pockets or anything.

"Well, then, whose pockets are you in?"

"Buffistas would probably know."

"How? ow often do you see them?"

It kind of devolved, but at least Allyson is the one whose contact info hangs in the balance now--which means I could change them some small anount.

Then my mother flipped out about methadone. I tried to tell her she was having an emotional reaction based about her associations with methadone, and that plenty of other medications shouldn't be stopped without tapering them down, and they're not being sold by a suspish character on the corner.

She stuck to her right to be scared about my health, but I told her that given that (which I did) putting that amount of irrational and illogical emotion on me without a plan, or any reasons that I should change my medical treatment is not helping me--it's stressing me out and making me anxious. If she can't bring her scientific method to bear on this, I don't want to know about it. She needs to find a different confidante, someone further from the problem, instead of the problem itself.

Happy Birthday Theo, Jesse and Rayne!