Today’s NY Times reports that “While some lawmakers, including many who voted for the bill, also questioned the legality of the furloughs, they said they had little choice but to approve the legislation because failing to do so would have effectively shut down the state government.”

Let’s back up a couple of months.  The lawmakers should have been in session five days every week before the budget deadline not a month and a half after the deadline.  They should also have their pay penalized for not doing their job.  I suggested 5% of gross pay per week that the budget is delayed with the proceeds going to schools.  At six-weeks the lawmakers would currently be “donating” 30% of their income to keep the government in operation.

According to the Empire Center for NYS Policy (http://www.empirecenter.org/html/legislative_salaries.cfm) NYS lawmakers make $79,500 per year (2007 figures).  The NYS legislature budget is the third highest in the country and individual spending is fourth highest in the country (2004 figures).

The 212 members at $79,500 per year cost NYS $16,854,000.  Weekly that works out to $324,115.  The cumulative savings to NYS to date (according to my plan) would be $340,000.  But, I’m guessing it would not have gone this far because when your pocket is affected you tend to get the job done.

NYS will save almost $30 million each week with the furlough in place but how much is it going to cost the state to fight the unions and make up work that is not getting done while each of the 100,000 employees is taking an unpaid vacation day?

What is it going to take to turn around NYS government?  The legislature has a historical approval rating of around 30-something percent but at every election approximately 70% of incumbents are re-elected.  So the bottom line – who’s at fault here the legislature or the voters?  I won’t be here in November to voice my opinion but I hope you voice yours.  Dem or Republican doesn’t mean crap anymore – it’s everyman and woman for his or herself.  Make your vote count.

Additional disclaimer – I am currently a temporary part-time employee of New York State and I only work two-days per week and I am not in a union (will I be cut to 1 day a week?).  Now that I am finished with my higher ed I am heading South where there is a job waiting for me and the state legislature makes only $10,000 per year.

I agree, psychiatric drugs should be used in a selective, cautious manner.  I also agree that a chemical imbalance of the brain cannot be fixed (cured).  What I have issue with is the seemingly dismissal of all sufferers of mental health and the medication that helps them live a real life.  Before I go any further let me say that I have not read the book and I didn’t dig deep into the article, I’m simply ranting here based on my own experiences.  So, that being said, I continue . . .

First, not all depressed people need an antidepressant.  Most people who are feeling a little blue, out of sorts, and lacking in energy need a good 30-minute walk everyday to get the feel good endorphins kicked up a notch or two.  Actually, everyone in the world should walk at least 30-minutes everyday.  It’s good for the brain, the heart, the muscles, the bones, and the smile.

Second, while my chemical imbalance cannot be cured it certainly can be managed.  I am thankful for the mental health counselor who talked to the psychiatrist about me possibly being bipolar and not suffering from unipolar depression as previously thought.  A hefty dose of antidepressants left me skipping instead of walking and talking instead of listening on the psychiatric ward.  This was my second hospital stay for going totally bonkers.  Since then I have been taking the same two meds every single stinking day and I can function as a real human.  I held a job for more than 4 years (my previous record), I made fewer impulsive decisions, I finished a BA degree, and I am on a career-path I am excited about.  Thank God for psychiatric drugs – my life is exponently better than it was before.

Third, the Salon article quotes a UB researcher who said that treating ADHD with stimulants is of no benefit.  I beg to differ.  My daughter had struggled in school since day one.  She couldn’t sit still, she would do her homework but leave it at home or in her locker, she talked constantly, was forever getting in trouble, and her grades were passing but not much else.  Blah blah blah, testing, therapy, structured homework time, sitting in front of the class, sitting by herself next to the teacher’s desk, etc.  By 9th grade she was failing, constantly getting tossed out of class and I realized that “managing” this problem wasn’t going to work and I gave in and gave her Ritalin.  Within one marking period she went from failing to honor roll, she wasn’t getting tossed out of class, and she started making smarter decisions.  Was I concerned that she was bipolar like me, you bet I was, which is why I wouldn’t let her go on Ritalin in the first place.  Was I concerned that I was just letting the drug mask behavior problems, of course.  But I know what really happened.  Her head wasn’t buzzing anymore with too much information and she was able to concentrate on the task at hand instead of the boy tapping his pencil four rows over and two seats back.

Thankfully, my daughter doesn’t appear to be bipolar and she weaned herself off Ritalin her second year in college.  Her grades are great, she works really hard, and she has found numerous outlets for her creative energy.  I’m proud of her, I’m proud of me, and I’m proud of everyone who had to live with the stigma of mental illness because there were no effective psychiatric drugs.  Proceed with caution, but don’t dismiss them.

“I have a dream, a fantasy, to help me through reality, and my destination makes it worth the while, pushing through the darkness still another mile!”

I also passed a lane that probably was the access road to the high-tension power lines at one time. Unfortunately, locals have turned it into a private dump. I felt the contrast was an appropriate experience for the fortieth anniversary of earth day. It probably shouldn’t be called the anniversary, its actual the fortieth annual since there has been an earth day acknowledgement since the first one.

I watched the canal fill over the past three days or so. It is probably still about a foot or two short of full but close enough to count. The Canal Corps didn’t clean out the bottom around my lift bridge this year so my recycle bin is still there stuck in the muck. It’s been there since January 2009. I thought about it now and again when the empty canal was iced over. I wonder if a frog or a fish found winter refuge in its shelter. There are also broken lawn chairs and bicycle parts under the leisurely flowing water.

I am frustrated with my inability to find the exact words to describe what I see.

And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.

(in the springtime)

Driving, I was thinking about the parts of me that go into my fiction. The gut retching realization that you cannot rewrite the ending – the truth is the story and it happens as it happened. I also noticed the early spring air that fills me with life and promise. Next year’s spring air will be different, fueled not by the swamps and Great Lakes, but by the mighty Mississippi. I want to remember this northern air because I’ll never experience it quite as I did today.

Why is nearly impossible to remember all the senses of a moment. When a song releases a memory from the banks, do you also remember the smells, the light, the air? I can’t – I’ve tried but it’s usually not exactly right. One small thing is off and I think that is what frustrates the melancholy – not the poignancy of the moment but the frustration of not being able to recapture that flash of time. It’s just a little slice of life, a dream, a fantasy, to help me through reality.

This is not me.

I’d like to say that the sucky 2008 just led to a sucky 2009 because I didn’t make a conscious effort to continue on the road I needed to walk and that is only partially true. The other part that is true is something I can’t really talk about but it was mind games and charades and somehow I switched over to the wrong road.

I had an awesome appointment with my therapist yesterday and she told me some things about myself that I knew but didn’t want to acknowledge. I won’t get into the psycho babble mumble jumble but truthfully – I see the big picture a little better. Basically, I was reminded that since I believe in a higher power (that would be God for me) I know that the body I occupy is temporary and the soul and spirit of me is the essence of who I truly am. I know that right? I was raised Baptist so it’s no secret to me that this life and this body is temporary. What I didn’t know is my essence, my spirit, my soul does not tell my mind what to think and do unless I guide it. Doesn’t the Bible say something about taking every thought captive?

I read those words in the Bible I don’t know how many times but I never thought about it as anymore than a way to “try” to resist temptation (think, walk, stand, sit) but it is so much more than that. What does my essence want to tell my mind to think? What does my spirit want my mind to believe? Am I a middle-aged woman trying and failing or am I positively perfect in practically every way and need my mind to believe that also. This isn’t 1980′s positive self-talk stuff but belief that what God (my higher power, remember) says is truth. That is the center of the issue – I don’t believe those things and I haven’t for a long time.

I have bipolar disorder and fibromyalgia and I can’t change that. I am obese (let’s stop pretending), I have high blood pressure, and I have gotten lazy and out of shape and these things I can change. Saying I try but fail is acknowledging that my mind really doesn’t want to be successful. Dating the wrong men is confirming that I don’t think I deserve better. Looking outside and wishing I could . . . doesn’t make it true. So, with these thoughts and more rolling through my brain I am going to ask my mind to listen to how my spirit thinks and adopt those thoughts for this temporary body.

I say good bye to the person I thought I was and the person I tried to be and the person others see and I’m just looking for the real me. “Baby I have been here before, I know this room, I’ve walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you. . . I did my best, it wasn’t much, I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch, I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come all this way to fool you, and even though it all went wrong, I’ll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah” (by the enlightened Leonard Cohen, my new favorite – I like him better than Bono AND John).

Sometimes I forget how much Lady has added to my life.  Most of the time I’m busy at my desk and she patiently waits for me to need her for something.  So here are some Lady stories, they may not mean much to you but they mean the world to me.

This morning I was playing “take-it” with her, which really isn’t a game but an exercise to keep her training up.  I drop something and tell her to take-it, hold, bring, and give and she gets lots of praise.  We do this at least three times a day and when I really drop something (like my keys, I’m always dropping my keys) she responds to the command.  Anyway, this morning I dropped a rope toy and told her to take it and she picked up a wrapper from an ice cream off the table and brought it to me instead.  I don’t know if she is trying to make me a better housekeeper or she wanted ice cream but it made me laugh.

We have about  a foot of snow and the plow drifts are four feet or more.   The Canal Corps is doing maintenance on the banks and they plowed the tow path for almost a mile which makes for much easier walking and I figured it would also help Lady do her business since the snow is at least to her chest.  Nope, not this girl, she bounds into the chest high snow and sticks her had completely under the snow until she finds the perfect spot then she tramps down the snow in that area and does her business. 

Last one, Lady makes her bed and it is the cutest thing.  She has a blanket in the living room and I moved it when I vacuumd and didn’t put it back in front of the couch.  She slowly, one corner at a time, moved it back to where it should be.  I could have taken mercy on her and movd it for her but it was too fun to watch.  In the bedroom she sleeps on a mattress pad with the elastic corners (she refuses the expensive dog bed).  She was rearranging the mattress pad one evening and got one of the corners stuck on her head and kept turning around trying to get it off.  I was rolling with laughter until I did take mercy on her and took it off her head.

Here’s to peace, love, and happiness in the New Year!

DOGS ARE THE BEST PEOPLE by The Fauves
It’s true oohoo, oh he loves me more than you
I’m down bring him round, let him jump up on me now
OK so he thinks he’s a human sometimes
I forgive anything when I look into his eyes
It’s true dogs are the best people
His love comes free and unconditionally
Come on how long do you let him sleep with us
Little head on the bed
Well you say no way now there’s a church
There is a steeple, Dogs are the best people
Dogs are the best people
Still tame still wild still somewhat civilised
With his bone and his bowl
And his little chocolate eyes
Come on how long do you let him sleep with us
Little head on the bed
Well you say no way now there’s a church
There is a steeple, Dogs are the best people
Dogs are the best people
He never lied to me once
He never flaunted my trust
He never lied to me once, never lied to me once
Never flaunted my trust, let him sleep in with us
Let him sleep in with us, let him sleep in with us

Food Chain flowchart:  http://eatingtheroad.wordpress.com/2009/11/30/where-should-i-eat-chain-restaurant-edition-flowchart/

Cereal flowchart:  http://eatingtheroad.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/what-should-i-eat-cereal-edition-flowchart/

Fast Food flowchart:  http://eatingtheroad.wordpress.com/2009/11/17/where-should-i-eat-fast-food-edition-flowchart/