Category Archives: Inspiration

The Antidote

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just perfect

original art (which you will recognize from Canvas) by The Artist formerly known as Babygirl 


© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Dust Off Your Highest Hopes

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Raise your hand if you’ve ever made a New Year’s resolution.  Now raise your hand if you have ever completely failed on one — or most.

Yeah, me too.  Actually, I think I got wise to the whole resolution game before I was nine.  That was how old I was the last time I made a New Year’s resolution.  And no, I don’t remember what it was.

The thing is, failing at a New Year’s resolution isn’t really a very painful experience, like failing at a goal you set for yourself some other time of the year.  Why not?  Because you know that countless other people are failing at theirs as well.  You aren’t alone.  It’s a time of year when we can actually all have a bit of a laugh and understanding for our failures.  It’s almost expected.  We do it together.

Well, I have a better idea for something we can all do together to begin this year.  I say we hope for ourselves.

In 2012, I got the thing in my life that mattered most, the thing I thought I had given up hoping for on any real, fundamental level.  After half my life dealing with raging mental illness, and the last six years (give or take) causing such acute suffering that I didn’t even know who I was anymore, I had given up ever seeing myself again.  I never gave up believing that something would help glue together the pieces into a semblance of myself, but that wonderful, beautiful, bright, happy, intelligent, crazy, head-in-the-clouds-and-hands-in-the-stars me. . . she wasn’t coming back.

Only she did.  She’s here.

Last March, one Sunday I woke up and I was the girl I’d been ten years ago.  And I knew that she would never go again.  I have to keep taking medication, yes, and I’ve had some hiccups, true enough.  But I knew that Sunday I had somehow fought through all of those years to get me back.  I believed it that first day, and I believe it all these months later.

So let’s do something else this New Year’s Eve, and let’s do it together.  Let’s hope.

I may not be the most interactive blogger when I write, but this post is designed differently (and take advantage of that, as it may be the only one!).  I’m going to share with all of you, my loves, the things I am hoping for in the year to come.  Things for me, in my life.  Yes, I hope for a kinder, more peaceful world, and I hope that my girls will continue to find the happiness in growing up and be spared as much as possible from the pain.  Of course I hope for those things.  Everyone hopes for things such as those.

I hope to do more things like this, with this lady (who has not signed a photo release) if possible

I hope to do more things like this, with this lady (who has not signed a photo release) if possible

 
 
In this post, though, the hopes I will share with you will be my hopes, for my life.  Things upon which I have some direct effect, and things upon which I may have none.  And I would love so very much for you to share yours with me in the comments.  As many as you would like.  You may find this a little scary, when you really get down to it.  I certainly do.  Because hope touches the most intimate and secret places in our hearts, and it is often something we don’t share with anyone.

 
 
But here I go:

  • I hope to be good and properly swept off my feet this year.  I’ve been in love, and I have even let my heart and senses get ahead of my brain (but not since I was 16).  I don’t care if it’s love, and I don’t care if it lasts for a year or a week.  I just want to lose all sense of “should I?” and go for it.
  • I hope to be able to get out and live on my own.  My parents are lovely to have taken me this far, but I need my own space in which I can properly enjoy being me again.  I don’t care if it’s a one-room studio, or if it’s drafty, or if I have to walk a million stairs.  As long as it has a proper kitchen, washer and dryer hookups, and a bathtub!
  • I hope I can have regular dates with my Babygirl once again (lunch on Sundays, perhaps).  She is at a place where I feel like she needs me more, and I have always needed her.  The difference is that now I can be there for her in a tangible way.
  • I hope to get back to kickboxing (I had a nice start pre-mono) and rebuild my strength, my endurance, my confidence, and my body, too.  Kickboxing does wonders for me as a mood stabilizer as well, so there really is no downside.
  • I hope to do a lot more traveling, both domestically and (kicking in some major hopes) internationally.  Rome, Venice, get ready for Ruby!
  • I hope all the necessaries can align for me to get that tattoo I’ve been planning for some time.  Artist, money, me. . .  It matters.
  • I hope to learn film development.  And yes, I mean color as well.  Every time someone tells me how incredibly difficult color is, it makes me want it more and more.  Again, there are many things that must align in this equation.
  • I hope I can spend more and more time reading.  I’ve said previously that I was grateful to just be able to read again at all, and so I was, and so I’ll always be.  But that doesn’t have to be the end of it, and I believe that if I work on it, and never say enough, I may be able to get back to reading the way that I used to.  To devouring.
  • I hope to get back to writing more.  Blogging, yes, but more writing for myself.  Journaling, writing fiction, sending letters and emails, even.  I intend to feed my imagination so much that it has no choice but to bleed through my fingers onto the page.
  • I hope to actually do something with my recently discovered love of oil pastels.  It may turn out beautifully, it may turn out like the scribblings of a two-year-old, it will most likely turn out somewhere in the middle, but I want it to turn out.  I want to lose The Fear.
  • I hope, in addition to the general travel wish, to spend a great deal of time at the beach.  Or, more precisely, in the ocean!

There you are.  From my heart to yours.  Now share with me what you have in your heart.  What do you hope for in the year to come?

I hope you all have a wonderful year, full of hope, and I send you my love.

Addendum: Hopes have no expiration dates, and this post is not just a New Year’s Eve thing. Keep sharing the things you want for this year (nothing as ugly as “must dos”, but the beautiful “I hopes” — see below for the things others have contributed, if you’re confused), because if you accomplish nothing else, in doing so you spread a little more joy into the world. Also, if you decide to share your hopes on your own blog, let me know with a link!

Oooh, Meizac wrote a post, Meizac wrote a post! Go forth and read: My hopes for the year to come

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Someone Jive Is Turning 35!

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You know those birthday cards for kids:  Someone Fun Is Turning One!  And then they have this kind of half-cute, half-scary puppy dog/teddy bear/bunny mutant holding a big number 1 on the front?

Yeah, well mine is better.

Today is the day that we celebrate the 35th anniversary of when the lovely, amazing, beautiful, talented, intelligent, wonderful, incredibly kind, and very righteous saradraws, of Laments and Lullabies, made her debut into this world.

And with this picture, I fell in love with her.

I only met Sara fairly recently, and “only” online, so all I can do is wish and wonder what if we had met years ago.  Which, I don’t do what ifs, so this part is necessarily short-lived.  But basing it on what I have come to know in her, I think it would have been some pretty good times for both of us.  Though ultimately I suspect I would have come off better in the past, as she could have bought me alcohol (for a little while, anyway).

Honestly, I just feel so incredibly blessed that I know her now, and proud that I can call her my friend.  I can call you my friend, right Sara?  I thought so.

So, about Sara.  There is so much good material, but where to start is very easy for me.  It is her compassion, her concern, her reaching out to support me, and answering a random email early in our acquaintance even though she only had ten minutes left on the library computer.  Yes, I remember that.  I always will.

She’s funny as hell.  She thinks of the things I want to say, and makes me burst out with laughter by putting her own special twist on them.

She is such a wonderful, concerned, educated, and most importantly, loving parent.  I haven’t ever watched her in action, but that is something I know not only from conversations, comments, and pics, but I can just feel.  And having been a nanny in another incarnation, I am professionally qualified to make these assessments (I’d show you my credentials, but they both have school in the morning).

And she disarms you.  She has this sixth sense for cottoning on to when you need someone most, and suddenly you realize that she was exactly that person you didn’t know you needed.

She is woman, in the most complete sense of what it should be, possibly more than anyone else I have ever known (myself very much included)

There is so much that is obvious that I haven’t touched upon.  I dunno, to me it’s a bit like gilding the lily to talk about her amazing talent with words and with pen/pencil/paint/fancy computer stuff. . .  I know nothing about how she does what she does with art (it’s magic!), but I know what makes it so special.  It’s Sara coming through.  The same as when she writes, whether it’s something that makes me laugh or something that makes me rethink my worldviews.  Sometimes both, which is something, let me tell you.

She is beautiful, inside and out.  Breathtaking.  Also, I am in awe of her hair.

I missed things, wonderful amazing things, because how do you sum up the essence of a person in one short post?  But wait.  I did leave something very important out.  She is brave.

Sara, you are so brave, so very strong, in a way that few people will ever know.  Quite possibly you don’t even realize it.  But you are fighting dragons most people can’t even imagine.  And yet you don’t have the luxury to imagine them, you know them intimately and you stand and face them.  And you will win.  I have every faith in the world that you will win.  And ask anyone who knows me, my faith has yet to be misplaced.  And I am honoured (with a “u”) to fight those dragons with you, when I can.

Many happy returns of this day to you.

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. ~ Anais Nin

I hadn’t time to draw you a new party hat, so you shall have to make due with one from the Canvas celebrations.  It’s only slightly used.  :)

And remember, it’s Sara, sans “h”.  Don’t use the “h”, I hear it’s quite fatal.

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Only For You, Dear Sailor

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I seriously and seriously and seriously cannot draw.  So in order to get behind the red rope and have Access to the VIP Area of Sailor’s wonderful blog, I submit this photograph I took last month of an osprey tending its two little babies (the nest is at the end of the dock).

It was not such an easy shot, as the two little birds were frightened when I tried to move closer, and the big bird made me fear for my life, flashing me back to Tippi Hedren in The Birds.

But surely the kindhearted Sailor will have compassion for me and accept this offering?

With love ~
Your Ruby

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

These Boots Were Made For Many Things

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After remembrance of things past in Before There Ever Was A Tuesday. . ., and subsequent discussions with Suzie Ivy and PAZ, I thought it might be fun to take photos of my boots for yinz to see.  Now this isn’t as easy as it sounds, with a camera phone and a tremor, but I think you’ll get the general idea.

So, without further ado. . .

The Docs of my youth.

 

My Undergrounds, which I prefer to call my shit-kickers.

 

My practical, but still sassy, brown boots.

 

My gorgeous cowgirl boots.

 

My drop-dead black boots, which don’t look like so much from the front. . .

 

But from the back. . . well, I really couldn’t get a clear shot (you try bending over backwards and trying to take a good picture some time).  But they lace up and they are sex on heels.

Kisses from my closet ~

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Before There Ever Was A Tuesday. . .

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. . .  There was a Soho.  And she loved rude boys with serious mohawks, piercings, and lots of tattoos.  And she loved going to shows, and running around in her 18 eye silver Doc Martins, causing trouble with bottle rockets, glitter, and on one very interesting evening, spaghetti.  She was something else, let me tell you.  And I love her with all of my heart and soul.


(This song and video are solely the property of their respective owners and artists. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended.)

P.S. I just tried on the Docs (because yes, of course I kept them!), and while I love me some stilettos, no shoes have ever made me feel half of what those boots do. . . Damn!

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

An Open Bar Can Open Your Mind

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I’ve learned a lot of things recently.  And I’ve come to some realizations in the last month or so.  And I am going to lay them out here for my enjoyment, in spite of the tremor that makes typing a task and that no amount of food or rest seems to want to cure.  That sentence was better in my head.  So. . .

It turns out that getting a mild sunburn is not really the horrible thing I had come to fear.  Actually, it’s evidence of me being happy and utterly relaxed.

A good, full, belly laugh is better than two strawberry margs plus a 2mg Xanax for making me stress free and happy.

I should never leave the house without pen and paper, otherwise I resort to writing things down in the back of a book with a pen borrowed off of a very nice waitress with an infectious smile (I knew this one, but it happened anyway).

There ain’t nothing better in this world than friends and family, except maybe for friends who treat me like family.  Because maybe I pretty much am, even after all of the years spent apart.

When seemingly everything reminds me of someone, it’s because we made so many wonderful memories together.

Girlfriends are pretty much the best thing ever in the whole entire world.  And how I miss mine.  And. . .

I am so glad my oldest and very best is coming back to visit for a week.  Because she will make everything clearer and calmer, just by her presence (also because I have so many good memories of time spent in her parents’ home).

I may not be a strong swimmer, but I make a very good mermaid, nonetheless.

Spontaneous, unexpected expressions of love from kids are probably the best experiences of my life.

I can, in fact, be organized.  But it is contrary to my nature, and I am pretty much happier not making much of an effort.

Some people I will always miss, but that doesn’t preclude me moving forward.

Usually I have to completely destroy myself so I can build back up into something better.  I have gotten pretty quick on the turnaround, too.

If I can’t figure something out, maybe it doesn’t matter so much to me.  And if it does matter, I’ll figure it out soon enough.

If I listen to enough Van Morrison, I can do anything.  ;)


© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Tonight, Tonight Won’t Be Just Any Night

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Tonight marks the long-awaited, anticipated, and longed-for return to the ice of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ captain, Sidney Crosby.

image via nhlsnipers.com

Now, before you roll your eyes, say, “Ruby, who cares?”, and stop reading, let me assure you that this really matters.  Not just because I adore Sidney Crosby (though I do), have missed him so (though I have), and want to see the Penguins’ roster further invigorated by his presence (though that I want as well).

The story I am about to tell you is one of hardship, heartbreak, and triumph.  In two generations of Penguins’ men, no less.

Sidney Crosby made his NHL debut with the Pittsburgh Penguins at the ripe young age of 18, in 2005.  Called many things (hockey players/coaches/commentators/devotees to the game in general love them some nicknames), including “Sid the Kid” and “The Next One” (for those of you missing the connection, it’s a reference to the amazing Mr. Wayne Gretzky, The Great One), he has been an all-around wunderkind in the six-ish years he has been on the ice.  The grown-up, spotlighted, NHL ice, I should say.  He was skating probably in his mother’s womb (ouch!), and was already a well established presence in junior league and earlier play.

But in the interest of keeping your interest, I won’t detail all that (plus I don’t want to spend my day fact-checking stats).

Oh, and no, I’m not bad at math.  At least not the simple kind.  I know that 2012-2005 = 7, not 6 years.  Stay with me here, all will be revealed in time – though I trust a number of you already know where this is going.  Let me tell it my way, aight?

Even just beginning with Crosby’s NHL play, I could throw so many stats and records at you.  Don’t worry, I’ll just pick a few things.  Named team captain at 19, the youngest NHL player to receive that designation. . .    2009 put a Stanley Cup ring on his finger, at the time he was the youngest captain ever to win one. . .  Oh yeah, and there was that Olympic Gold Medal he helped to win at Vancouver 2010.  This guy was unbelievable.  This guy was unstoppable.  This guy was on fire.  This guy lived in Mario Lemieux’s basement.

Mario Lemieux. . .  Lemieux, Lemieux, how sweet is thy name on my breath, truly on the breath of all who love hockey, most particularly all who love Pens’ hockey.  Super Mario (they just erected a statue to him in Pittsburgh, you know). . .  Stop, Ruby!  You haven’t gotten to that part of your story yet.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, according to everyone in the know in the hockey world (most everyone, maybe let’s don’t ask Alex Ovechkin - or any Caps’ player while we’re ahead), Sidney Crosby is an incredibly nice guy.  So root for him when you read this.

I come to where the very difficult part of Sid’s story begins.

By most every account it was due to a couple of hits he took in the first two games of January 2011 (starting with the 2011 Bridgestone NHL Winter Classic on New Year’s Day).  Now I’m not interested in naming names, nor debating whether the hits were clean.  In another place and time, perhaps, but here and now I want to stay with the positive and write only good things about people.

These hits caused concussion symptoms to appear in Sidney Crosby.  Concussion symptoms that were so incredibly severe, he missed the rest of the 2011 regular season, as well as that year’s post-season (for those of you who don’t know, the hockey post-season is long – which makes me a happy girl – lasting into June for the teams that go all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals).

He missed the beginning of the 2011-2012 (the current) season, but came back to the NHL ice in November of last year.  And all was right with the world.  Until he had to stop playing again the very next month, due to a return of his concussive symptoms.

There has been some mudslinging done by fans and hockey writers in the city of Pittsburgh – and no doubt some other cities.  They say Crosby is a whiner, that he is too soft to play, etc., etc., ad nauseam.  I say you don’t screw around with brain injuries in any arena, but particularly not in one where it is part and parcel of play to take blows to your body and your head (the latter is very strongly discouraged, but still a real possibility) each time you skate out onto the ice.  I think the majority agrees that Sidney Crosby is being intelligent and judicious.  Also, I’m sure that for a lot of the time he has been off, team physicians, owners (hello again, Mr. Lemieux), and Pens’ teammates have been laying down the law and telling Sidney, ‘No way.’

Because you’ve got to realize this isn’t all Sidney Crosby’s decision.  Twenty-four years old (we all know boys don’t make completely rational choices at that age) – which is in your hockey prime – unbelievably talented (with the hardware to prove it), and absolutely in love with the game.  Just think of the frustration, the fear, the internal battles that he must have faced.

image via askmen.com

I imagine team owner/Pens’ legend/mentor-to-Crosby Mario Lemieux had an idea of it.  Mr. Lemieux had many injuries through his career as well (and was still incredible, I’m sparing you his awards and stats completely – okay, I will permit myself to tell you that he is the only person to ever win a Stanley Cup as both a player and an owner).  But what I remember most vividly as far as his health battles was when he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma.  Uh-huh.  Cancer.

Mario Lemieux had cancer.  Mario Lemieux beat cancer.  Mario Lemieux came back to play amazing hockey after cancer.  Mario Lemieux established a foundation to help others fight back against cancer.  Mario Lemieux has kicked cancer’s ass in every way, upside-down and sideways.

So who better for Sidney Crosby to have as a presence in his life during what has undoubtedly been an agonizing period?  I don’t know any details on interaction between the two – and I don’t think anyone should (to my knowledge no one has make this stuff public).  That’s such unbelievably personal territory for both men.

But tonight, when Sidney Crosby skates back on to the ice for what I hope so much is a permanent return, I will hold my breath.  I will probably hold it for 60 minutes of regulation play, plus any potential overtime, plus 34 minutes of period breaks, plus all official on-ice and t.v.-time outs.  I’ll manage somehow not to asphyxiate.  ;)

And I will hope and I will pray for this young man, because the battle may not be even halfway won for him.  Head injuries are scary, and they are tricky, and they are (when this serious) for life.  Bravo to Sidney Crosby and the entire Penguins’ organization for making sure this doesn’t become something even worse, something that could end not just his career, but his life.  Bravo to team owners Mario Lemieux and Ron Burkle for putting Sidney Crosby’s health and well-being before games and trophies.  Bravo to all of Sidney Crosby’s teammates for supporting him and playing amazing hockey in their own right.  Bravo to all of the team staff, most especially the medical and training staff (whose names don’t get flashed around so much), and to the specialists from all over who have evaluated and treated Sidney Crosby.  Bravo to the fans who have supported Sidney Crosby throughout all of his career, the fair weather and the foul.

Tonight is not just about Sidney Crosby, it is about so many individuals who have helped him to get to where he is.

Which, when the puck drops at 7:30 EST, will be exactly where he belongs.  On the ice.

Note made on the first period break: I don’t know how I managed it, but I forgot to add bravo to Dan Bylsma and the rest of the coaching staff. They deserve high praise for their handling of everything in this situation as well.

(Any errors in stats, writing, or behavior generally are completely my fault.  I’ve been sitting with this post for several hours now – I don’t like inserting a whole bunch of hyperlinks, but here it seemed necessary – so my editing may not be up-to-snuff.) 

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Pardon Me, Miss, But Your Disorder Is Showing

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And I know it.  And I am not only letting it, I am encouraging it.

I am getting way obsessive-compulsive and hyper-focusing on a project I started.  No need to go in to the finer points, it’s just something that I’m doing to organize my life, supplement my memory, and get better acquainted with some blogs and bloggers, both recently discovered, and long a part of my online writing sphere.

Really, the whole thing is absolute madness.  Oh well.  The only thing that will actually make me crazy is if I don’t get it done.

In other news. . .

Beginning (I suspect not coincidentally) around the first of the year, many of my blogger friends took on various projects and challenges.  The most frequent I have seen is the 30 Days of Truth, but there are a whole truckload out there, with subjects literary, photographic, and strictly introspective.

I didn’t initially think anything about these challenges as far as them having pertinence to or appeal for myself.  I don’t believe I was even blogging at the time.  But recently I have been pondering not the actual challenges presented, but the idea of doing something myself that requires a certain amount of commitment and creativity.  I came up with the following two ideas, tailored to my specific talents and interests.

The first is the Fairy Tale A Day project.  Ever since I can remember, I have been passionately in love with The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm (Jack Zipes translation).  In this volume there are 250 tales, and much as I love this book, I know I have not read them all.  So I thought I would start with the first (“The Frog King, or Iron Heinrich”), and read at least one piece a day until I make it to the last (“The Short Tale”).  Sounds interesting and fun to me!

The second project is utterly different and also more challenging.  I have the most ridiculous, versatile, and wonderful collection of makeup I have ever seen (you can get a sense of it by visiting my page Beauty Snob), and I am constantly adding to it.  But I don’t use it nearly as often as I would like to, since I seldom do up my face when I’m not going anywhere.  Consequently, there are shadows and glosses and palettes and sets I have never even tried out, which to me is a damned shame.  So the goal is to try out a new look at least three times a week, even if I am just planning on sitting at home and writing.

If I get ambitious enough, I’m going to post a list of my products so that I can make a notation when I use each of them.  Because while I will be taking photographs of myself every time I fancy up my face. . .  Well, I’m not going to be posting them here.  I did seriously consider doing so, but I really am just far too private with that aspect of myself.  I will give you the blow-by-blow of the most personal and emotional experiences and thoughts in my life, but you are definitely barred from ever actually seeing me.  Go figure.  ;)

I guess that’s it for tonight (this morning).  Back to the organizational OCD mines!

Moral of the story:  Sometimes mental illness taking over is neither a trauma nor a catastrophe.

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Autumn In The Burgh

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I finally got the pictures I took while in Pittsburgh this past October developed (yep, I mostly still use a 35mm camera), put on to the computer, and uploaded to this site.  Sheesh.  That’s a lot of effort considering that mostly I am the only one who cares much about them.  Which, to be clear, doesn’t bother me.  I still love to put my pictures up.

PGH14

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