A Piece of Corn

To many people's delight, Hyperbole and a Half has posted a new entry after (except for a pre-post transition post) about a year and a half of silence. And as always, author Allie Brosh has captured beautifully in the new post, the intricacies of tremendously difficult topic:  depression.

Depression: not "depression," as in "oh, I'm depressed that my favorite sports team didn't win that big game" or "I'm depressed because I can't find these shoes in the right size," but rather, depression that is a soul-shriveling, emotion-sucking black hole of despair and darkness and spiders.  Depression that is a medical condition, brought about in the complex biochemical machinations of the brain.  Depression that colors and shapes the entire world-view of an individual, and causes even the most mundane tasks of existence to be extraordinarily difficult at times.

Herself knows several individuals who struggle with depression. She wishes she could help; yet she knows that it's oftentimes a very private matter, an internal struggle that they do not wish to reveal.  The best she can do, she thinks, is to listen when they want to talk, and to be silently present when they do not want to talk. Hopefully, like Allie Brosh, they will find that one piece of corn that turns things around.

May you find your way through the darkness, my readers with depression. And may you know that you are loved.  Truly.

Picture belongs to Allie Brosh, of Hyperbole and a Half. It is so beautiful. 

Possess

No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;
This truth, this hard and precious stone,
Lay it on your hot cheek,
Let it hide your tear.
Hold it like a crystal
When you are alone
And gaze in the depths of the icy stone.
Long, look long and you will be blessed:
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed.
― Sara Teasdale, Strange Victory

Bodice Rippers

As we roamed through the used bookstore a few weeks ago, we were struck by the sheer volume of romance novels available for purchase.  They occupied a full half of one wall, it seemed.  Related books were even packaged together in brown paper bags - 15 volumes, only $3.  A bargain!

There is no wonder why such novels continue to be popular, despite their formulaic plots, pedestrian characters, and humdrum language.  There seems to be an inherent human need -- possibly (though not necessarily) primarily a female need, given the target audience of the vast majority of romance novels -- to imagine oneself in the throes of an all-consuming passion.  From teenagers to aged crones, the sentiments are the same:  we long to be cherished; to be treated unexpectedly tenderly; to be rescued when in distress; to be loved for who we are.  And also, to feel the flutterings of desire:  the desire to be touched; the desire to be held; the desire to be desired, slowly, carefully, and completely.

An occasional escape into such a world is most welcome. Perhaps we should pick up one of these books and see whether it suits our fancy.  Or perhaps, more interestingly, we should try to write our own.

The Problem With Heroes

Ottoman-shaped dog had suspicious lab results after he completed his antibiotics course, and so, he had an ultrasound today to see whether something was amiss.  The conversation during the ultrasound went, in part, as follows:

Vet:  Thor is a very heroic name for a dog.

Herself:  He's actually very wimpy.  He's my hero, though.

Vet:  The trouble with heroes is, they never live very long.

That's when she knew.

Thor's bladder tumor is rather extensive.  It does not (yet) encroach on his ureters, which is good.  Prognosis is, however, rather guarded.  We shall contemplate our options once the full report is available.

In the meanwhile, he can enjoy a new cushion especially for him.  His days are numbered; we would like to make them as comfortable as possible.

We love you, Thor.

Men

Let us contemplate, for just a moment, a few marvelous Men:

Beloved Husband used his extremely valuable time yesterday to drive 550 miles to help Offspring the First move into her first apartment, and then to bring her home today for a visit before she starts summer session at college. Herself's father has generously provided tremendous assistance in making college feasible for all of the Offspring. Offspring the Second and Offspring the Third cheerfully looked after the dogs and themselves so Herself could go out last night; she had dinner with Cherished Friend, whose company is always valued and whose conversation is both entertaining and thought-provoking.  And just for good measure, ottoman-shaped dog -- who, more than anything, resembles a small, humble man trapped in a dog suit -- was waiting by the door for Herself when she got home last night. 

Herself is extraordinarily fortunate to have these men in her life.

This lovely depiction of the Y chromosome was found at Quirky Science, here. 

Glitter In The Air

We continue our crush on P!nk.

We hope you will enjoy Glitter In The Air as much as we do.

The Shadow

     Upon a June day the grass said to the shadow of an elm tree, "You move to right and left over-often, and you disturb my peace."
     And the shadow answered and said, "Not I, not I.  Look skyward.  There is a tree that moves in the wind to the east and to the west, between the sun and the earth."
     And the grass looked up, and for the first time beheld the tree.  And it said in its heart, "Why, behold, there is a larger grass than myself."
     And the grass was silent.
- Kahlil Gibran

Picture copyright 2012, 2013, Mediocria Firma. Used with gratitude.