Friday, September 4, 2015

This was a selfie I took last month for a healthy selfie campaign my org wanted us all to contribute pics to for the org's Twitter feed. It's kohlrabi I'm posing with. I discovered kohlrabi this summer. They haven't tweeted the pic. I'm not surprised. In the past at this org, when I've had to photograph employees for banners, social media, etc., I've had my people choices steered to skinny people and the younger people. Without saying that instruction out loud, of course, in any way that could open up things to a lawsuit. So I'm too fat to be shown in the org's Twitter feed. No one said it, but the pic just never appears in the campaign. I knew that would happen, but I thought I'd try. I wish I hadn't though; it just makes me feel bad, especially as I see pic after pic of other people being used day after day. For someone who fights the feeling that she doesn't exist....

A couple of weeks ago I changed my social media pic to this pic. I even changed my LinkedIn profile pic to this, which may not be appropriate because it's a little gimmicky for a "professional networking site." I don't get anything out of LinkedIn, anyway.

Technically, I did get a selfie published in the campaign. To get the ball rolling, last month I was asked to photograph my glass of water near a notepad with the company name. So, technically, if I were to complain about them excluding fat people from the Twitter campaign, the org could say that that was my selfie. You see how it's done? 

The pinky purple background is my kitchen and dining area wall. Mardi Gras. Like it a lot. Goes very well with the Construction Zone orange in the living room and the Fuzzy Peach in the stairwell. The front entry way also is Mardi Gras. Did I mention that I like color?

Monday, August 31, 2015

I'm continuing to have a hard time breathing.  I can only walk the dog a short couple of blocks. Mouth breathing. Not sure if it's my heart or what. I bought a sort of elliptical machine, very simple, at a yard sale last week. Afraid to use it.

I walked once around the floor at the office this morning, and arrived back at my desk out of breath, heart beating in my ears, mouth breathing.

I haven't been to the doctor all year because my health insurance has changed to a $2,000 deductible/then it pays 25% after that. Obviously, can't afford to go. And, anyway, they'd just want to do an MRI and I still can't get into the elevator much less an MRI machine. The tube is not to be contemplated and the open-sided version is just like being the cream in the middle of an Oreo cookie, with the top cookie a half-inch from your nose.

Besides everything else, I don't think I breathe through my nose right.

This week's goal is to go to bed at 8 p.m. every night. My alarm goes off at 5. I thought I'd see what a week of extra sleep might do. Unfortunately, the nightmares continue. Perhaps it's not so much a matter of quantity but quality. Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the quality.

I was briefly inspired by the Ernest Thesiger book (see post from weekend) to start up embroidery again. But then I remembered I'm lousy at it.

The dog seems sad. I have to get him more exercise.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

I painted this for over the bed. Acrylic on canvas. Accent wall is still navy, so navy. Downstairs is orange, so some orange to carry through. Duvet cover has navy and sort of light tan, so used a tan color. 

Saturday, August 29, 2015

From: Adventures in Embroidery. Ernest Thesiger. 1941. The University of Minnesota libraries had a copy and I was able to check it out via MNLINK, which is a service that lets you search public and university libraries across Minnesota for books and media, and then have them delivered to your own branch library for you to check out. The book has been re-bound in plain covers, so I don't know what the original cover looked like. 

Ernest Thesiger was a British actor and WWI vet. He later did volunteer work teaching rehabbing soldiers to do embroidery. I know him as Dr. Pretorius in James Whale's Bride of Frankenstein (1935). 

And no one could say the sentence "Have a potato" with such a mixture of challenge and threat as Ernest Thesiger, in The Old Dark Hall.