Diabetes Blog Week prompt for Friday: Lets wrap up the week by sharing a little more about ourselves, beyond the chronic illness we or our loved ones live with. Share an interest, hobby, passion, something that is YOU. If you want to explore how it relates to or helps with diabetes you can. Or let it be a part of you that is completely separate from diabetes, because there is more to life than just diabetes! (This topic is a suggestion from the 2016 #DBlogWeek survey.)
It’s been quite a week, with a pretty wide emotional range and I’m kind of DONE with diabetes. But none of that crap today. Today it’s about the stuff that’s not diabetes-related. It’s all the other stuff.
Since it’s late and I’m typing this out to close out my day, I’ll keep it listish because that’s easier.
- I love lists. I love making them and crossing shit off them and writing them out all neatly and will not keep lists in a digital medium but instead on an index card from the stack we keep in our kitchen junk drawer. Lists are nice. I rarely finish things that I’ve listed, but still … the listing part is nice. Takes a crack at organizing my thoughts.
- I’m not organized, though. Not even a little bit. I have grand plans to get all my thoughts lined up but they roam around unsupervised all the time and I struggle to complete my to do lists because they grow like those dinosaur eggs you put in a glass.
- Group texts are my arch nemesis/favorite past time. I have a tendency to wander off pretty far from the initial topic and almost always include a rotten typo (because I use voice-to-text all the time and today almost sent a message that included the phrase “turd farm” instead of the intended “turf farm.” Different visual entirely.) Apologies specifically to the women in my neighborhood, who are patient with my wandering narratives.
- Suddenly, Blood Mary’s are my favorite drink. My father is a fan of the Bloody Mary and I always thought his drink choice was horrible, the choice of a vegetarian vampire. The red tomato juice, the horseradish, the celery stalk … blech. Until it suddenly wasn’t blech and and I wanted one. And now I have become the vegetarian vampire.
- I constantly crave music. Bands like Elbow and Radiohead, singers like Alexander Wolfe and Damien Rice, Muse, Bat for Lashes, alt-j, Arctic Monkeys, Stateless, Fleet Foxes, Jay-Z, Rage Against the Machine, Cake, Halfmoon Run … all of it. Any of it. I love loud music and have it on throughout the day. I can’t write without it. I can’t run without it. I want to crawl around in your Spotify playlists. Sharing music recommendations and new favorite songs are among my favorite things to do.
- I appreciate where I live. I love my state (#rhodypride) and the town we live in. I love the beaches and the bike paths and the parks. I love our neighborhood – we hit the jackpot with the folks we live near. I love raising my children in a community that believes in community. I’m a big fan of this little state.
- I can’t dance. I used to tap dance (for 15 years) and I was pretty good, but any other kind of dance becomes a desperate please for my legs and arms to stop embarrassing me.
- But oh how I can make the yarn dance. (That was a goofy segue. Even for me.) I’ve been crocheting since I was 13 years old, a student of my beloved grammie’s, and have taken on her craft as my own. Currently, baby blankets are my jam as so many lovely friends are expanding their families, and my own two kiddos are covered in yarny cocoons. I really like combing the internet for crochet patterns and I love everything that Amy Ermel posts.
- I miss reading books. I used to read constantly. Having kids and writing so much has eaten up a lot of reading time, unfortunately. I’ve had a Jodi Picoult book 3/4 read for the better part of four months and I haven’t made the time to FINISH IT. But I just decided to finish it this weekend. Added it to my analog list.
- I take at least a dozen pictures a day. Of frogs found in the front yard. Of my son, while he sleeps in my arms. Of my daughter building a fort underneath the dining room table. Of the cat when she’s standing at the end of a long hallway and scratching “RED RUM” into the hardwood floors. I’m snappity-snap all the time and most of them won’t ever leave my camera roll but I look at all of them when I’m on planes.
- Fantasy lunch table? Roald Dahl, Thom Yorke, and me. And my grandmother, so I could introduce her to my daughter and my son and show her how much of her stubbornness and kindness and silly tendencies are in my children. Also, I’d love to hear what she’d think of Thom Yorke. (“Why was he so fidgety? Does he need a hug?”)
I have loved reading all the More than Diabetes posts, because they help round the DOC out. We’re more than our numbers. And more than our disease. We might be a bit Thom Yorke-ish, potentially in need of a hug.