Hello everyone -- apologies for the radio silence! I considered posting from the road but decided to be present and immerse myself in Camp Mighty. It was a wonderful trip, not only for personal/professional reflection and connection, but also to witness and be a part of awesome change. Thanks to the fundraising efforts by Camp Mighty attendees, plus a donation from the Ace Hotel (amazing, btw, if you find yourself in Palm Springs), we raised $25,000 for charity: water, which translates to clean water for 1,250 people. AMAZING. I'm now in recovery mode with work and home matters, but meanwhile, here are some fun ideas to consider in this week's Weekly Blueprint:
November 16: I'm fairly certain these gingerbread men will be caught and eaten.

November 18: Lace up. Skating opens at Frog Pond.

November 18: Lace up again. Winter skating opens at Patriot Place.

At your leisure: Start chipping away at homemade holiday gifts. My friend Gabrielle has a lovely sibling gift tradition with lots of project ideas -- these could be used for any family members.

At your leisure: Paint some pottery. Related to above, Laurel loves painting pottery for holiday gifts. The functional items such as coffee mugs and plates are always a huge hit!

At your leisure: I love Thanksgiving. Check out last year's episode of Life.Style (or simply the associated link wrap) for decor, recipe, and travel toy ideas.

At your leisure: Make a big batch of magic salt -- perfect for all of the cooking coming up this holiday season and great for giving as gifts. We've gifted this salt to family and friends who say that it's now the only salt they use!

At your leisure: Try a new recipe. I made Santa Rosa Valley Salad last night (super, super yum), and plan on making one or both of these spinach dishes this week.

Image credit: felt ice skate ornaments by recycledparts via Etsy

I was just looking at Twitter and saw a link to Alison Gresik's post on the night she almost went crazy. I wasn't planning to post today, but then I read this:

We were nearly home when I tried to make up for how pissy I’d been. This is not about you, it’s about me, I said.

And that’s when Shawn got really angry.

How dare you get this upset and then say it’s not about me? It’s impossible for me to tell the difference, and it’ll certainly be impossible for a child to tell the difference. You can’t keep doing this.

She goes on to explain how her brain took that and spiraled it into suicidal thinking, and then the next morning pulled it together to face a challenge that to someone not afflicted with mental illness might seem like nothing: taking a broken car to a mechanic.

I understand.

Last week in the midst of all the Hillary Adams beating post comments, I felt my anxiety starting to rev out of control. I had just a visceral reaction to that video. I also have noticed that since I went off The Pill a few years ago that my moods are getting more extreme at times, more like they were when I was in high school and college. 

The morning after I put up the post, I took Petunia to the vet. Petunia hates the vet. She got wrapped in a towel there once when I wasn't there and ever since then she needs to be sedated to go and will still hiss and try to bite anyone, even me, who approaches her when she's there. She has to wear a bonnet that keeps her from being able to see or bite, and even so, she tries to bite. The vet is trying to desensitize her, so she sat and talked to me for what felt like hours while Petunia trembled and growled and hissed in my arms. Finally, she started talking to me about cleaning Petunia's teeth and the anxiety peaked and I started to cry. I wasn't making any noise, but the hot tears were just rushing down my cheeks and there was nothing, NOTHING I could do about it. 

"You're really upset, aren't you?" the vet asked. 

"I've had a hard week. I'd like to go home." I thought about trying to explain anything to this woman and realized it would be pointless. I knew it would be a while before I could stop crying, even as I understood intellectually that I wasn't really that upset about cleaning Petunia's teeth or even Hillary Adams, who is now 23 and years removed from that horrifying beating. Hillary Adams was a trigger, Petunia's growling was a trigger, just in the past Hurricane Katrina and 9/11 and my daughter's conference with her talented and gifted teacher in which the same tears ran down my face as I asked the teacher to let me know if she sensed too much perfectionism in my daughter, that perfectionism went with anxiety and eating disorders for me and I really hoped my girl wouldn't ever sit in front of a kind teacher who doesn't really know her and embarrass herself by bawling when nothing at all is wrong.

That's the thing, though -- when you have anxiety, nothing need be wrong. Life itself can feel pretty insurmountable, even as you recognize there is nothing wrong. Cats go to vets, cars need to be fixed -- it's not the end of the world. 

But the part of Alison's post that really got me was the part about husbands and kids not being able to tell the difference between your being mad at them or at yourself or at nothing at all but displaying this emotion that makes no sense. I've tried to insulate my daughter as much as I can from my anxiety, but when you live with people, it can be hard. Especially when you're alone with them as much as I'm alone with my girl. As a result of seeing me cry sometimes for no reason and telling her hey, it's not you, I'm  just sad and sometimes I get sad and I don't know why, hold on, I'll stop in a minute, I hope she is kind to herself if she ever cries for no reason. I want to make the world perfect for her but I know that I can't and actually I shouldn't, because if I did, she wouldn't know her own strength. She wouldn't learn to self-soothe. Just as I would tell her these things if I had a twitch or Turret's or some other behavior I couldn't necessarily control that might look alarming. 

I've stopped beating myself up for irrational crying. It doesn't happen every day -- it doesn't happen now as often as it did when she was a baby and I was really messed up. When it happens, I try to do things I know will help. I sleep. I exercise really hard. I write. I read a lot. I take hot baths. And I let myself cry, because it does seem like there's something in there that needs to get flushed, and maybe the crying flushes it. Often I'll feel perfectly fine hours later and I know that is confusing to the people around me. The truth is that when that sort of crying or anger happens, it's not actually based on anything other than my brain. It's different from when I cry because something someone dies or because I know I hurt someone. I make noise when I cry like that. This crying -- it's just like a faucet. 

The vet's office manager called the next day to see if Petunia was okay and if I was okay. She's a nice person and I saw on her face and the vet's face that they thought something horrible had happened to me to cause such a reaction. I don't really want to get into it. I wish I hadn't had to take Petunia to the vet when I knew I was in high gear. But life doesn't stop just because you're anxious. I don't think it should. In order to have faith in myself that I am okay, I have to get in the car and take the cat to the vet even if I'm crying. I have to make my daughter dinner and do the laundry and go to work. And because I still do all those things, because I know the difference between real sadness and anxiety sadness, I feel okay about it. I know people in my life think I should get stronger drugs or go see a therapist again, but the truth is that it passes, I don't want to hurt myself or others, I know how to care for myself and I'm learning not to drag other people into my anxiety when it's happening -- it's best to go in a room and let it go, just like a headache or other type of chronic pain. People with mental illness live like this, just like people with diabetes live like this. You manage the pain. You take care of yourself as best you can. And you try not to freak out when it escalates -- you manage it back to a safe level. It's possible my antidepressant needs to be adjusted, and I can look into that, but here's the thing: There isn't a magic pill that I'll take that will make me wake up tomorrow with anyone else's brain. It will be my brain that will still try its old tricks and maybe we can stop a few more of the downloads of chemicals from coming through, but it will still try. There might be a pill that helps a little more, but we're managing this, not fixing it, and that is okay. I don't expect to never cry for no reason again. I expect to be able to cope effectively with it when I do and to make it stop as soon as possible.

I can't always control my triggers or my reactions, but I want the people I love to know I'm okay and I love them, but I don't know that I can be "fixed." I can manage this, and I'm trying very hard. 

On Monday, I talked to a business communication class at UMKC about business communication as it pertains to social media. I told them the story about how a commenter on this blog tried to get me fired from H&R Block years ago. I told them about how I started this blog anonymously and how I evolved to using my real name as my username for pretty much everything. I talked about strong language and politics and privacy.

They asked why I hated Facebook. And I tried to explain how it is when you don't grow up with something -- how that degree of visibility feels different to me. I know anyone with a screen can read my blog, but I also know that most people I know or am related to in real life don't. Or at least not every day. But I know people who are glued to Facebook for hours every day, lots of people, including, probably, from the looks on their faces, these students who I can't help but think of in my mind as kids, though they were sophomores and juniors in college.

Standing there trying to explain how I came to my job in Internet publishing back in 1999, what it was like to pop in the bubble, how this recession is maybe longer but not so different from that pop if that was your industry, going from a career started with very different public and private Ritas to just one now, what it used to be like to have the people with whom you worked really know nothing you didn't want them to know about your personal life, back when you could go to work without everyone knowing who you went to high school with or what you got for your birthday -- it's not so much that I oppose this information being out there -- obviously I don't, I think you take the chaff with the wheat -- but it's different than what they're growing up with. It's been something of a hard adjustment that varies by personality type, but it's one thing to grow up talking to your friends in this way from the get-go and another thing entirely to have started one way and had it evolve before the rules were established. Exhilerating, yes, exciting -- my life would not be the same without this technology -- but also at times disconcerting. It must be what it was like to start life riding in a carriage and end it changing your oil. To start life with only a radio and end it with a flatscreen.

I barely restrained myself from saying "when I was your age." I do think I also restrained from explaining I had a typewriter in college. It was an electronic typewriter that had this new-fangled thing in the side called a disk drive, which I never used. 

Okay, I have to go to my job on the Internet now before I find myself reaching for dentures.

Pursuant to yesterday's yummy food post, I wanted to share two tasty spinach-happy dishes my co-host Heather brought to our friend Nicola's baby shower. Not only were these dishes fantastically yummy (seriously, the guests could not stop raving), but given that my roughage consumption tends to plummet with the cold weather (and close of CSA season), I love how excited these dishes got me about eating leafy greens. Enjoy!
Heather's Spinach Salad

Salad:

About 8 oz baby spinach leaves

1 cup pecan halves or pieces

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 cup crumbled gorgonzola or other blue cheese

Dressing:

3 tablespoons regular olive oil

1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

Salt and pepper

Mix salad contents in a serving bowl. Place dressing ingredients in a jar or lidded bowl and shake vigorously to mix. Drizzle dressing over salad just before serving.

Spinach Pasta Salad
(Heather said she found this recipe on Recipes.com)

Ingredients

1 (12 ounce) package farfalle pasta

10 ounces baby spinach, rinsed and torn into bite-size piece

2 ounces crumbled feta cheese with basil and tomato

1 red onion, chopped

1 (15 ounce) can black olives, drained and chopped

1 cup Italian-style salad dressing

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 lemon, juiced

1/2 teaspoon garlic salt

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1. In a large pot of salted boiling water, cook pasta until al dente, rinse under cold water and drain.

2. In a large bowl, combine the pasta, spinach, feta cheese, red onion, and olives.

3. Whisk together the salad dressing, garlic, lemon juice, garlic salt, and pepper. Pour over salad and toss. Refrigerate for 2 hours and serve chilled.

Image credits: Christine Koh

This past weekend I co-hosted a secondhand baby shower for my friend Nicola (when I offered to host a shower, Nicola asked me to repeat the eco-theme) along with my two friends Heather and Heather. Both Heathers brought awesome dishes that I wanted to share (the guests could not stop raving about the food!). I'll share one recipe below and two (related) others in a separate post. I ate many servings of these dishes and wasn't shy about asking if I could hang onto some leftovers. Enjoy!
 

Santa Rosa Valley Salad
(Serves 6; Heather doubled the recipe for the shower)

SALAD:

1 box Near East Original long grain and wild rice mix, cooked as directed

Juice of one lemon

3 half chicken breasts (cooked and diced)

4 green onions (chopped)

1 red bell pepper (diced)

3 oz. peapods (ends removed and then halved)

2 medium avocados, diced

1 cup chopped pecans, toasted

DRESSING:

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 tbsp. Dijon mustard

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. sugar

1/4 tsp. pepper

1/3 cup seasoned rice vinegar

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1. Combine dressing ingredients in blender. Put in lidded container and refrigerate. (May be made a day in advance.)

2. Mix all salad ingredients (except avocados and pecans). Combine with salad dressing and refrigerate 2-4 hours. Before serving, add avocados and pecans.

Editor's Note: Heather got this recipe from her mother-in-law. I did a quick Google search and saw that there are similar recipes of the same title submitted by users to other food sites. If you happen to know of the original source feel free to share and I will happily credit here!

Image credit: Christine Koh

So about a week ago, I got the following email:

Hello,

I know, I’m supposed to follow your blog, comment regularly and build a relationship before sending you a note. 

But I’m a high school student interning at a nonprofit, and I’m helping spread the word about a book giveaway for classrooms.  So I hope that you will welcome a good message from a teen as much as you would a note from a regular reader.  In any event, please forgive the lapse of blogger etiquette as I try to help get books into the hands of kids who need them.

Author & TV host Leon Logothetis is giving away books for classrooms (not his book – whatever books the teacher wants). Teachers and parents can enter to win, so I hope you will find this interesting and worth sharing with your readers.

There’s no purchase necessary.  Just visit http://ClassWish.org/FreeBooks

Leon, author of Adventures of a Nobody, is driving the Kindness Cab from New York Times Square to Los Angeles for the start of World Kindness Week, November 14.

Upon his arrival, he will announce the winning classrooms that will receive free books.

Leon is working with http://ClassWish.org, which helps teachers and PTAs get the classroom resources they need, without spending their own money.  

Again, I hope the chance for children to receive free books will win out over me not being a regular reader, and I hope that you will please share this opportunity with the teachers and parents at your child’s school and with your readers.  Again, it’s:  http://ClassWish.org/FreeBooks

Thank you very much!

Best wishes,

Marc 

I was amused by his repetition of the fact he does not read my blog and has never read my blog. However, I checked out the site he was talking about and was so impressed I put a redirect on my Sleep Is for the Weak cover in the right rail of this site so if you click it now, you'll be buying it from this store and helping out educators.

And then I wrote Marc back:

Hi Marc-

I'm choosing to believe you are really a high school student and not a highly paid marketer in disguise. Either way, the site looks great and I just facebooked and tweeted it. Excellent job, you have a bright future in front of you because your voice is better than most of the eight gazillion professional pitches I get for this blog.

Best,

RJBA

Then I got an email from the co-founder:

Hi Rita,

Marc was so thrilled by your note that he passed it on to me (I am the co-founder of ClassWish.org).  He is, indeed, a high school student – one of several interning with us from School of the Future, here in Manhattan.

These students understand why this cause is so urgent; they live with the need every day.

I’m copying him and his faculty advisor, Emily, in on this note.

Rita, thanks for your faith and your help in spreading the word.

Marc, take a bow!

Rita, Marc admitted that he didn’t read your blog, but I just took a look.  Sleep is for the Weak, indeed! 

You might also be interested in this – your book in a new bookstore that supports classrooms.  The site offers a 10% discount plus a donation to classrooms (generally 10% on paperbacks and 20% on hardback trade books):

https://bookstorethatgives.mybooksandmore.com/MBM/actions/searchHandler.do?userType=MLB&tabID=GENERAL&itemNum=ITEM:2&key=0007678415&nextPage=booksDetails&parentNum=12865

Thank you again for your support.

Best wishes,

Robert

The email ended up going to Marc's faculty advisor. I am thrilled to have Sleep Is for the Weak in this store. Sometimes, it's totally worth it to open those emails, and this was one of those times.

Greetings all! I hope you're all adjusting to the time change. Did anyone else's kids fight bedtime yesterday, despite the "You know, it's actually an hour later than now" argument? And did anyone else not get their extra hour of sleep (my kids still woke up super early)? Anyway, how about a fresh start? Here are some fun ideas for your consideration in this week's Weekly Blueprint:
November 7: If you are suffering from sleep deprivation related to the time change (or hey, just sleep deprivation in general), treat yourself to a really delicious coffee.

November 8: Vote in your municipal election.

November 8: Talk turkeys with your toddler at the Mass Audubon's South Shore Sanctuaries.

November 10: Celebrate locally made goods at AHA! Night in New Bedford.

November 11: A super fun pick for ballet lovers: The Nutcracker Boston Ballet Day at the Boston Children's Museum.

November 11: Pay tribute. My peep Stacey at Boston Central has several Veteran's Day listings on the docket for Friday.

At your leisure: Set aside a bag and start filling it with items for local food drives.

At your leisure: Make this pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting. YUM.

At your leisure: Schedule a date night.

At your leisure: Pick up a new book. This community-driven collection of recommendations offers more than enough fodder to get you started.

At your leisure: My upcoming trip to Camp Mighty served as the impetus to update my life list. Consider starting/editing yours as you look forward into the turn of the year.

At your leisure: Find creative inspiration. I recently joined Pinterest and I must say that I love it as a means of archiving awesome ideas and creative inspiration.

Image credit: Unicorn pops pinned via Etsy

I'm so grateful to everyone who bought raffle tickets for Asha and my Camp Mighty raffle to benefit charity: water, or made direct donations on our behalf. As of this evening, we exceeded our $400 goal and raised $625. I'm going to have Asha draw the winner and I will update this post once I know who gets the tote! Meanwhile, if you didn't have a chance to participate yet, you're welcome to donate to our team here. We're closing in on our team goal of $5,000 and it's pretty awesome that as it currently stands, the $3,625 raised will provide 181 people with clean water. Thanks again everyone!

+ + + + +
THIS RAFFLE IS CLOSED
Congrats to winner Sasha! And thanks again to everyone who supported us via raffle ticket purchase and direct donation!
+ + + + +

Darcy picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Jose shifted uncomfortably on the chair. He hated it when she took calls during their time together.

She made a pleading face, mouthing I'm sorry.

"Is this an emergency?" she asked the caller.

Jose squirmed on the chair, its leather warmed by his being there so long. He heard a car drive by on the street outside.

"Do you want to hurt yourself?" Darcy asked, her voice tightening as her hand curled into a fist on her lap.

Jose removed his glasses and massaged the indentations they left on his nose.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Darcy dropped the phone on the couch. 

Jose put his glasses back on.

"Is this the patient you were telling me about?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I have to go," she replied, picking back up her phone.

"I understand, Darcy, you know I do. But you're never going to make progress if you keep leaving our sessions after ten minutes." Jose gestured at the clock with his clipboard of notes.

Darcy stared at him blankly then stood to leave, buzzing for the nurse outside to open the door.

I wrote this in response to an assignment in a fiction dialogue workshop I took this morning. You were supposed to write a scene in which a character only gets one half of a phone conversation.