We are wired for sound, baby!
Alright, I finally, FINALLY figured it out. I know, I should have just held my horses and waited for the grand unveiling, but I was excited. I have the correct software that will allow you fine folks to record an audio comment for the 2-Dimensional VIP Lounge!
There’s a pink box on the bottom right-hand corner there. It has my graphic on it and a somewhat annoying record button that undulates wildly. I recorded an intro, you can click on the play button or click on the words “Intro from cardiogirl” and you’ll hear my morning voice which is currently fighting to keep a raging cold at bay. I have the cold at an arm’s length away, but it’s waiting for me to slip so it can advance. B@stard.
Anyway, here are the very easy directions on how to enter the 2-D VIP Lounge. Click on the annoying, undulating record button. A phone number and code will show up. If you are Guilty Secret, you can select from the drop down menu where you are calling from. When you select United Kingdom, it will give a different phone number and code. If you are Claire, you can select Ireland from the drop down menu.
Oh, my word. Please, please Claire and Guilty, would you please do a voice off for me? I will consider it my Christmas and Birthday present for the next decade! I will provide the text and if you two could read the same passage you would make the rest of my life!
Okay, don’t answer right now. Just think about it and get back to me (crosses fingers so tightly the skin turns white.)
Dial the number it gives you and leave a message! That’s all there is to it. Now, my money is on Guilty Secret as the first caller. She has a five hour jump on most of us, so I expect her to be the first to leave a message. Although Claire also has the time advantage. Oh I just know both of your accents are going to be like buttah (butter, smooth and silky)! And I know I will listen to the messages repeatedly. I can’t wait!
Down the line, I’d love to type up a small monologue that everyone can recite and then we can try to decide whose voice is whose. But I’m not going to put the cart before the horse today.
So that’s the news on the 2-D VIP Lounge. Now let me get onto today’s topic.
Addendum: Steve had some trouble finding the bouncing button maybe due to a firewall. Here’s a number and code you can call in the US if that widget gives you trouble. (Note to widget: don’t you dare try back sassing any of my cardio peeps!) Here’s the number for the US: 1 (641) 715-0101 When prompted enter this code: 562 9408
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I seem to have crossed the divide from depression to anxiety. I’m cool with that. Between you and me, I’d rather choose anxiety any day of the week. In my messed up world view, I believe American society accepts anxiety in terms of “mental disease” with open arms versus depression. I believe most people respect low-grade anxiety (I’m talking about panic attacks somewhat in private) more than they accept active depression.
I think the reason for this is that anxiety doesn’t usually show itself via crying. At least for me, when I am depressed I am prone to tears. That’s very uncomfortable and I can tell you from first-hand experience, society doesn’t know what to do with tears. Now anxiety, on the other hand, presents as rude comments and impatient behavior, at least it does for me. And you know this space is all about me, baby.
Society seems to understands rudeness. So if I snap at someone or give a condescending look, people are cool with that. They understand it and prefer it to me collapsing in tears. So I welcome the anxiety like a long lost friend from high school. Welcome back, Anni.
Hey, has anyone out there experienced high anxiety and panic attacks? If so, have you noticed a strange ammonia-like smell before the attack or when you are feeling anxious? I asked my psychiatrist about that and he wasn’t familiar with it. Although, I have found a couple folks via the internet (my family doctor would roll his eyes right now if he read this, he hates it when I research medical symptoms on the internet) who have experienced that smell before a panic attack.
I have noticed lately that I get a whiff of that smell every so often and when I smell it, it is during times when I am highly anxious. I noticed that smell overwhelmingly just before I experienced the full-on panic attack with Mr. C’s sister.
On the upside, I have noticed some benefits from Anni’s presence, because like my father always says, you gotta look on the bright side. So here’s the biggest benefit Anni has brought with her. I’m losing weight, finally.
I believe I have mentioned in my Heyday (summer of 2004) I was at my goal weight; I had been lifting weights so I was sort of cut and I almost had a six-pack. It was more like a four-pack. But I was happy.
Well, my abs seem to remember I had a four-pack. I’ve been seeing them attempt to re-emerge as I lose weight from not eating due to the anxiety twisting my innards.
Now, I see my weight loss thusly: it’s sort of like remodeling the basement in your house. You can do it the proper way by organizing the clutter into clear Sterilite bins, donating the excess stuff to the Salvation Army and painting the walls. Add a throw pillow and a neutral slipcover to the couch, light some candles and your basement is a place to relax and enjoy.
After I cleared everything out of my own personal basement (my basement represents my body in this analogy), I was pleased to discover a metaphorical six pack of Diet Coke. Its cans were shiny and bright and that six-pack proudly flexed its muscles in my basement.
Back in 2004 that’s how I found the six-pack — through proper diet and exercise.
I have since discovered that I can also create that metaphorical basement haven by gathering all of my excess sh!t into plastic garbage bags. Then those bulky garbage bags can be thrown, unceremoniously, into a nearby dumpster. This method is revealing a six-pack of Tab with some dust on it, but I’ll take it.
A six-pack is a six-pack, right?
So in summation, there appear to be two roads to a thinner Cardiogirl. One road is like a smooth German autobahn and the other one is like a two-lane, two-way hick-town road filled with pot holes and no passing lanes. Both roads can take me to my final destination, but the current road I’m on sort of sucks.
But I am making it to my final destination without so many tears. And stepping on the scale isn’t so daunting anymore. That’s something to be happy about, right?
