Category: Science

SAY something, already.

Utopia

(Not Justin Timberlake.)

I’m obsessed with the new Justin Timberlake single, “Say Something” — an acoustic, harmonic build of a song that inspires the heck out of me. I’m even trying to learn that rhythm on my uke, but I’m kind of a spaz. I’ll post a video below, but meantime here are some of the lyrics . . .

Everyone knows all about my direction.
And in my heart somewhere,
I want to go there. Still I don’t go there.
And everybody says, “Say something, then, say something. Say something, then, say something . . . ”

Trouble is, I deal with depression. Like, the icky, real kind of depression.

Jeez, I really didn’t want to admit that here. Pay no attention to the frightened girl behind the curtain! But some of my favorite people also deal with it, including my hero Rachel Maddow. Plus a lot of other cool peeps like Lady Gaga, Carrie Fisher (RIP), Kendrick Lamar, and pretty much any famous writer you’ve ever heard of, from Sylvia Plath to J.K. Rowling. Mine started in my 20s. Well, when I was a kid, it manifested as shyness — obviously I’ve cured myself of that! Now it’s an intermittent existential crisis that hits me in sloppy, irregular waves. Last week I felt like there wasn’t much of a point to anything; right now — after a weekend that included exercise, writing and fun social plans — I feel quite normal and happy.

PLUS: Tada!! I have a meeting today with the CEO of a place where I freelance, to pitch my creating and leading an Earth Day extravaganza for the company. Read More…

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We rock.

Your bones are made of calcium and magnesium, and there’s seawater in your blood. You are the living Earth in this particular form. 4 1/2 billion years ago, the Earth was a flaming ball of molten rock. Now . . . it can sing opera.

— Cosmologist Brian Swimme

I need lithium for my political mood swings

I’m really eff’ing cranky right now.

Every six months I go see my psychiatrist, who asks me if I want more antidepressants, and every six months I tell her no. When I was there a few weeks ago, my answer was the same. I don’t believe my bad mood is a biological issue, but rather circumstantial. Not that I’m denying being one of those cursed artistic personalities, with a brain as sensitive as it is curious, acting like a seismograph strapped onto the head of a woodpecker. No, that’s not right. A sea sponge covered with taste buds? No . . .

“Lemme just get more exercise,” I tell her, winding down our appointment. She asks me if there’s anything else.

kleenex-boxAlmost as an afterthought I say, “It’s been really hard since the election.” And then out of nowhere, tears well up in my eyes. I struggle to elaborate, but she remains quiet. “Wow, I didn’t expect this,” I say, reaching for a Kleenex.

“You’re not alone,” she tells me. “Everyone’s affected. All of my patients. I’m affected, too.”

Not that she’s suggesting lithium. That would imply that I get the manic highs of bipolar people. Instead it’s just a rotten mood interjected with the occasional sigh of relief when one of Trump’s stupid bills or Executive Orders is shot down. It looks a little like this:

  • Trump announces his Muslim Travel Ban. It’s discriminatory, and doesn’t address the problem. In fact, it will probably make terrorism worse. Sh*t. This is our new President.

Read More…