Ramblings on writings

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about what my passion is. When I say "passion" I mean that one thing that I am always thinking about, drawn to, wishing I was doing, my inherent talent- not just, "Oh I love potatoes!" (Which I do, but this is beside the point.)

I think my passion is stories, or more to the point, creating them.

I love stories. I love writing them, I love watching them, I love reading them, and I love being immersed in them. Now, I work in a library, which is filled with stories, but I'm not exactly passionate about curating stories. Sharing them is better, and I do a lot of that in my line of work, but I think my real passion- the thing that drives me- lies in creating them. This is something that I don't do much of anymore, either in my daily work or on my off time.

I used to write all the time. If I was at home I was on my computer, music playing, my fingers attacking the keyboard as I tried to get all the words in my head out into coherent sentences. I have a back log of tales that I've created, some of them pretty good and others in need of a thorough edit, but I also have a folder on my computer of stories in progress and they don't just complete themselves. I can't seem to complete them either. The closest thing I've got going for me in regards to my passion is this blog, which is kind of just stories about me and sometimes my dog but is more often me ranting about things that probably aren't important to anyone other than me. It's not very creatively fulfilling if I'm honest, but it's better than nothing.

For those of you unfamiliar with my lone published work, Rosabel, it's a story about a girl pirate. It actually started the same way the song "Yesterday" by The Beatles did- I had a dream. And when I woke up the scene that I had dreamt was so good I jotted it down. Then I started to write. And write, And all I did when I wasn't writing was think about the characters, and where they were going and where they had come from. In the end the scene I dreamed wasn't even in the finished book but the book was finished.

Was it the next Adventures of Huckleberry Finn? No. But I'm still proud of it, and I can say that I've published a book. I cannot, however, say I did it for the money because it's cost more than I'll ever make on it! Still, I felt really creatively fulfilled with that story.

Then my friends started to clamor for a sequel and the well of inspiration dried up like an old prune.

The thing is, I think I write best when I don't have to go after inspiration. It's like the story writes itself. I'm also a lot better at writing dialogue than I am descriptions, which I attribute to reading and studying a lot of Hemingway when I was in high school and college. (If the description of the table does nothing to move the plot along then please don't give me paragraphs telling me about the nails and the screws and the type of wood used to build it. It's a table. I got it. Let's move on.) 

I also have a problem with editing...as in I think I may be addicted to it. I'll sit down with the purpose of writing and then spend an hour going over what I wrote two years ago and changing three words and adding or subtracting a comma or two. Even this blog isn't immune. I edited the second sentence in this paragraph twice before I even got to this one (and I just edited this one, too.) Blame that on being a perfectionist, I guess. 

I've thought about really writing a book about growing up with diabetes. I actually have a NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) story that I've been working on for several Novembers now that I think would be a really great book if I could just finish it. Some of what I've written I think is pretty good, some is just snippets of larger scenes to come, and some is just something something, something happens here place holders so I can keep some kind of a time line going. In short, it's a mess. I know what it's like to grow up with diabetes. I should be able to pound that story out. But for some reason I just can't seem to get it to gel. Maybe it's because it's been a while since I was a teenager, or maybe it's because I'm not sure I like the development of some of the characters and changing them would mean changing entire plot points. Whatever the reason it isn't getting done and I think I only added 1000 words to it last November because I got too bogged down in editing what I'd written the year before.

So where do I go from here with this? I honestly don't know. I'm afraid if I force myself to sit down and write then the joy I find in it will be squashed and it will feel like work, which is the last thing I want to happen. Would I like to be able to make writing a career? Of course I would. But as I mentioned earlier I work in a library. I know how many writers there are. I also know how hard it is to get a book deal, or get something published, and how expensive it is to publish things yourself. I also know that sometimes the things that need to be written (for example, books about kids with diabetes that don't harp on the diabetes thing and show them as normal and capable individuals) need to be written by someone, and I really don't want that person to be Lurlene McDaniel.

I guess maybe it's time to invest in a club.

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

I've been a little depressed lately, I will admit. A look at my last few blog posts is evidence enough of that. And when I get depressed I tend to focus on the negative more than usual (which is saying something). But for once I have good news...and some embarrassing news.

First, the good. We got an email at work yesterday that said my endocrinologist was going to be covered as an in-network doctor even though Aetna itself isn't covering him (yet). Yay!

Happy Dance!

 

This is such a relief to me that I can't adequately put it into words....well, maybe one.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. (Which, I am pleased to see, my spellcheck tells me I spelled correctly on the first try.)
 

And now the embarrassing thing. I've been complaining about how miserable it is to put the new CGM sensor in for weeks. It often doesn't go all the way in and I have to stick myself more than once, twice, three times...My last blog post, I think, really went off on the device. I have since inserted two sensors without any problems whatsoever. Why? Because I realized I was doing it wrong. If you put the sensor into the inserter correctly it works really well. At some point I got cocky and forgot to be careful with what I was doing.

 

When the fail is so strong, one Facepalm is not enough indeed.

 

Which just goes to prove that even after having diabetes for decades I can still learn a thing or two about taking care of it. Namely, don't cut corners you idiot.

 

I'm still not out of the depression woods yet, but I've been feeling a lot more up than down the past week or so, and I'm not really sure why that is but I'm not about to over-analyze it. There are still big things that will set me off and make me cry, but I'm better able to handle the little things. I think it's because I vented and a lot of people reached out to me, which made me feel less lonely than I have been. Also, I've been trying to laugh more. 

 

"Laughter is the best medicine; you can't OD and the refills are free." So says Rob Paulsen, who has been entertaining you and your kids for quite a few years with his voice (seriously, his IMDb page is a mile long. He's Yakko on Animaniacs, Pinky on Pinky and the Brain, Carl on Jimmy Neutron, has been two Ninja Turtles...the man's incredible). "Everything you can imagine is real." That one's attributed to Pablo Picasso. "You cannot reason with the heart; it thumps about things which the intellect scorns." Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I've actually been researching "motivation" for a presentation I'm giving on Saturday (no, I didn't pick the topic), and I've been relying heavily on quotes to fill time. Twain didn't make it in because I can't figure out how to relate it to motivation, but Pablo and Rob did, among others.

 

I actually have a list of quotes by my desk, along with various other things that make me smile- pictures of my family, lots of Obi-Wan Kenobis, a giant map of Disneyland and a less giant map of Boston I picked up on my lone visit there. Honestly, I should never be depressed in my office. It's way too cool in there.

 

 

Don't you wish your office was cool like me?



I think the only thing that isn't obvious about me just from looking at my office is that I'm a diabetic, which is fine with me, since no one wants to be defined by their disability. I'd much rather be defined by the fact that I have a life-sized, working Muppet taking dictation for me or a blaster wielding space pirate guarding my filing cabinet. Or the fact that I still have a lot to learn when it comes to taking care of my diabetes. :)

I guess my lesson for the last couple months is that you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both...and then you have George Clooney before ER made him ridiculously famous.

Incidentally, Mindy Cohn is also an amazing voice actor these days. :)

 

Beware the Ides of everything

SO...yeah. I've not been happy the last couple weeks. My car having engine problems to the tune of $6700 dollars ended up in me getting a new car, our insurance changes are likely leading to more money out of my pocket (or a new Doctor, which would be a complete other thing I don't want to deal with since I just got used to the current one) and the diet we were trying ended up not doing what we were hoping for, though we are eating better and it is costing us less than our prior noshing habits. Okay, fine. Trials in life and all that. I get it. We dealt with it. We took life's lemons and sucked on them and now we're fine. It happens.

But the truck now having engine trouble that is likely either going to cost us $7K or force us to get another new or new-to-us vehicle is ridiculous.

I'm not seeing it.

 

To say that life is stressing me out right now would be an understatement, and that of course means I will be feeling the repercussions in my blood sugar. Everyone keeps telling me to "take care of myself" but honestly, if I could lessen my stress don't you all think I'd have done that by now? I don't exactly like staring at my budget spreadsheet on Sunday morning but sometimes you need to do that (unless you're rich and pay someone to do that. So much the better for you.)

 

So life may be "abounding" in comedy, but right now, with the exception of my husband making some particularly goofy jokes this afternoon, I'm not laughing.

 

Oh, I see. Thanks for clarifying, Mel.

 

Tragedy + Time = Comedy, apparently, and right now I feel like I'm in the middle of tragedy, so I can only assume in a couple months I'll look back on this and laugh. Money is one of those things that no one ever has enough of and I am no exception. Even if I had more I'd still want more on top of that. I want to pay off my debt (who wants to spend the rest of their life paying off cars and houses?), but I can't do that if I keep accumulating it.

 

I spend all this time planning things out- we'll eat this food, I'll lose this weight, we'll pay this off, I'll read this book, whatever- and life never goes according to my plans. I know I'm not bad at making plans. I do it for work and often that comes out okay. I've planned trips, I've planned afternoon excursions, I've even planned massively big events that have gone off splendidly. But I try to plan my financial future or health...um, healthful...health...plans? Anyway, I try to plan either of those two things, and I get a giant cosmic "Oh no you di'in't!" from the Universe.

 

Sure, now he tells me.

 

And to say that I'm okay with this would be a bold faced lie.  If I had all the money in the world, if I had all the time and energy and every resource at my disposal, I still would not be able to control and plan for some things, and frankly, I take issue with that. This is why I like to write. I control everything when I write. A character stubs his toe? All me. A character wins the lottery, buys an island in the Caribbean and spends weeks at a time there with her friends celebrating boy band music? Totally doable. Wings bust out of my back and I can fly from here to NYC to see a Broadway show and still be home in time to catch the morning news? Hell yes. And if a character in a story I am writing comes up with a great way of paying off her house, her car, her credit card and her student loan it's gonna freakin' happen for her.

 

Actually, now that I think about it.... if I had all the time and energy and every resource at my disposal...I'd be a Time Lord. And I'd be okay with that.

 



 

 

Oh, fine. If you don't get it watch this, and if you do you likely are still chuckling over the Whovian reference at the beginning of this rant. Sing along!:

 

 

And as an aside...happy diabetes anniversary to me.



One year later...

I've been writing this blog for a year. That's incredible. It certainly doesn't feel like a year.

A long, long time ago I started working on my "autobiography," which was an idea steeped in vanity because, let's face it, I haven't done much of anything with my life and I certainly hadn't done anything with my life when I started writing it. The idea was to call it the True Confessions of a Middle Aged 20-something- reflections on a life with diabetes, and maybe get it published so that kids who were diagnosed with diabetes, or maybe their parents, could see that living with this disease is do-able. Not necessarily always easy, never fun, but do-able. (And yes, in my mid twenties I felt middle aged...now I'm middle aged and I feel like I'm sixteen half the time. Woot.)

I think the blog is working better, obviously. For one thing, publishing a book is a pain in the ass. It costs money if you do it on your own (money that most people who self-publish fail to recoup, in my experience) and getting someone else to do it takes more time than I have. Secondly, my life is a work in progress. When I started the book version of this *NSync was still recording new music and the Twin Towers were still standing in New York City. My husband and I only had one dog. I wasn't using an insulin pump and CGM wasn't even something I'd heard of. Since that time New Kids on the Block has reunited and Seal Team 6 took care of the evil minded nutcase that brought the towers down. We now have three dogs, I've been on the pump for almost ten years, and CGM is something I don't think I could live without. A lot has happened during this time. And a lot continues to happen...

 

The Phantom Tollbooth- read it, see it. Yes, in that order.

Even with the passage of time, the book that almost was sits in the back of my memory. There was some good material there. I started with picking my mom's brain, going through old year books, trying to remember the things that happened when I was a kid. What school was like, how it felt to be the "diabetes girl," how things weren't that different in the grand scheme of things. I only stopped working on it because I had hit a wall- i.e., I'd hit present day and there wasn't much else to say except, "Yeah, and I'm still here, so...that's good." It was kind of done, and yet it felt like it wasn't finished because I wasn't finished.

Since I started that book my perception has changed on a lot of things. When I was a kid the thought of using a pump- sticking  needle in my stomach- was horrifying. I fought my doctor on that subject for years and years. Truthfully, I swore  there was no way I was ever going to do it. Well, look at me now. Perception is a fact of life. How you look at things is as important as what you're looking at. Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view. That's as true now as it was when it was spoken a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away by a very wise dead guy.

 

That's right; it was this guy in a movie studio back in 1983.

I think this blog is fluid where a book would be static. And static isn't a bad thing- do you want to go back to your beat up copy of Pride and Prejudice someday and find Lizzie has run off with Bingley? Of course you don't. But since how I've been looking at my life with diabetes has changed so much over the years, I'm glad there isn't a book that details in black and white everything I was thinking when I was twenty two. I was naïve back then, and not nearly as sardonic or witty. And, if I may allow myself a little toot-you-own-horn moment, not nearly as talented at writing as I am now. At least now I think I've found my voice.

But the biggest reason I think the blog is more of a success is that I know I'm reaching more people with it than I would if I were to just write a book and try to publish it. It's out there...tagged with search terms and stored on Google's blogosphere, waiting to be discovered by someone who might need to hear what I'm saying. And that in and of itself I count as a win to me. Am I really reaching lot of people? No. I can see my stats and each post usually gets about 20 hits, more or less. But the potential is there. And seeing as how a book would have to come to an end at some point much sooner that I plan to come to an end myself, this works even better for me...because now I can finish it when it needs to be finished...

Pegged

A perfectionist is someone who spends his life feeling bad because he can't live up to standards no one else lives up to either. -- Chris Crutcher

This may be one of the truest things I've ever heard/ read. For those of you who don't know who Chris Crutcher is, he's an author of young adult books that are often banned for being too real to life for some parents to feel comfortable letting other people's kids read them. He's also a really nice guy with years of experience counseling troubled teens, and this quote is from a graduation keynote speech he gave this year. And boy is he right on the money with this. In fact, he has me pegged pretty well. I spend my life feeling bad.

I want to be perfect. I want to have no debt, always have a showroom clean house, never make a mistake at work, and always have my blood sugar be between 80 and 120. And none of those damn things ever happens.

I have debt- we all do, and the sooner I accept that I'm always going to owe someone money the less stressed out I'm gonna be. My house was showroom clean once...then I moved into it and brought all my stuff with me. I'm a packrat, and I can't seem to ever throw anything away, and my house doesn't grow in proportion to how much stuff I have. As for work, sometimes just going is a mistake. Don't get me wrong, I like my job, but today is one of those days where every little thing is making me angry and frustrated, and when you work with kids and you have no patience, it's better to stay home and watch cartoons.

Currently I'm trying to get through Saiyuki, which is awesome.

 

As for the diabetes... well, you all know how well that goes. Lately it seems like the harder I try the worse it gets. And the fact that I've come to appreciate a beer after work to help me relax doesn't help, because alcohol does weird things to blood sugars, even if you're not getting drunk. I have started on the exercise bike again, so that's a good thing, at least. A half an hour on that thing with Saiyuki on the TV goes by pretty quick. It also helps with the depression, which has been getting to me of late.

 

Usually writing takes care of that for me. I get depressed, I get on the computer, open Word, and two or three scenes in a story later I'm feeling better. I created something. I focused my energies in a positive direction. I did not sit there and watch "Oklahoma" for the one thousandth time while eating another Twinkie.

 

 

I actually prefer these.

 

 

Lately though, writing isn't coming as easy as it used to. And it's not helping me even when it does. Of course, neither does drinking a seasonal Sam Addams and eating greasy little snack cakes. The bike does help, so who knows...maybe I'll get in shape after all.

 

I am not perfect. I am as flawed as they come, yet I still keep trying to reach that pinnacle of excellence known as perfection, which Chris Crutcher is so right to have pointed out is not gonna happen. Hell, even Jesus had a bad day at the temple, right?  So why am I stressing myself out over this? Why can't I look at a model in a magazine and see her for the Photoshopped mythical creature she actually is? Why can't I just be happy being the best I can be? Why do I set goals for myself that cannot be achieved?

 

Damned if I know. Hand me a Sam Addams and a Twinkie. It's time for cartoons.

 

 







Getting Well Soon is Hard to Do

What the hell IS "well" anyway?

I think "well" is pulling on two pairs of sneakers (not a sneaker and a boot) and being able to go take my dogs for a walk, or getting on the stationary bike we bought and doing thirty minutes of aerobic cycling while I watch last Friday's episode of Blue Bloods. "Well" is having full use of my arms again and being able to make myself a cup of caffeine free coffee in a regular old coffee cup.  "Well" is not keeping my foot up on a trash can while I'm at work so my foot isn't swollen at the end of the day. "Well" is not having to choreograph getting in and out of the car, going to the bathroom, or pretty much everything requiring movement. I'm looking forward to being "well."

Right now I'm  just making it a day at a time and knowing that each day brings me that much closer to being healthy again...or as healthy as I can be. It's all relative.

"...from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint- it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey...stuff." --Not Albert Einstein, and it kind of got away from him anyway.

 



Fact of the matter is, though, that even once my foot is healed I'm not really "well" because I still have to choreograph food, and make sure that I have candy in my desk at work, and still have to count carbs and watch what I eat and keep changing insertion sets.  You know that moment when your brain suddenly pulls free of the fog of everyday blah and has this bright moment of clarity that suddenly gives you a new lease on life? It's like that, only in reverse. And once I made this realization I got a little pissed off because I've had it in my head that "well" is what I need to be striving for and like Sisyphus I'm never going to freaking get there.

 

So I'm not going to be "well" any time soon. What does that leave me? Better. I can work toward being better. So I'll do that, I guess.

 

 

So what the hell is "better?"

Well, "better" is no longer wanting to scream when I turn the wheel of my car because my arms hurt so much that I think I might need morphine. "Better" is being able to walk on my injured foot without crutches (but totally not doing that because I'm afraid I'll over do it and screw up the healing process.) "Better" is admitting that I HATE CRUTCHES and NEVER EVER WANT TO BE ON THEM AGAIN and being okay with that. So it looks like I am better.

On a lighter note, my husband stumbled across a Pintrest page that had me literally laughing so hard I almost needed to change my pants because it is ALL about Type 1 diabetes. I then got lost on that blasted site looking for all pictures related to Type 1 and found so many that I needed to make an album of my own: https://pinterest.com/bookdivalv/type-1-aint-type-2/. 

 

If you've never been on Pintrest before I warn you to set aside an hour or two because once you start over there you will be stuck for hours...I started this blog at 9 am and have been on Pintrest pretty much since then laughing my butt off... And you know what? Rob Paulsen is right-

                         "Laughter is the best medicine...you can't O.D. and the refills are free."

 



An anniversary, of sorts

Anniversaries are funny things. Sometimes good...sometimes bad...sometimes both.

September 15, 1990, I went to my first concert. I was twelve years old and went to see New Kids on the Block with my mother, my little sister, and a couple of friends. I still have the ticket. I still remember most of the show.  I remember watching the New Kids on the Block cartoon right after the Beetlejuice cartoon that morning, and I remember getting dressed, and I remember dancing and singing my pre-teen heart out. One of the most memorable things about that day for me, though, was not New Kids related. That day, according to my mother at the time, was also the anniversary of my diabetic diagnosis. Or might have been. She wasn't completely sure at the time and I think that date may have been wrong, because September 15th of 1979 was a Saturday, like this year, and also strangely like 1990. (Then again my pediatrician employed my grandmother as his nanny, so who knows? It was around that time, at least.)

I found it on the Internet so it must be true.

 

Regardless of the accuracy of the date, every year since that particular September 15th (which was more years ago than I care to openly admit, and I do it now only for educational purposes) on September 15th I've thought about it. I don't remember the day my parents were told I had diabetes- I was only 14 months old. In fact, I don't remember living a day without diabetes at all, which can be rotten on one hand and nice on the other. I don't know what I've been missing. But I think about it, even for a few days before the 15th hits, because it's...I don't know. It's a mark. It's tangible. It's the day that before became after. Even though technically I still had diabetes before, on that date my parents knew, and like the G.I. Joes say, knowing is half the battle.

The other half is awesome lasers and stuff.

 

I guess this time of year I just take a while to pause and reflect on things. Most people do that around their birthday, but I do it around mid-September. Another year with diabetes gone, another year older.  My husband follows the diabetes news. He's always telling me about new advances in treatment, new theories on cures and stuff....I don't follow it. I guess I'm bitter. When I was a kid, it was "the decade of the cure." They were so sure when I was a kid that I wouldn't have diabetes as an adult...well, that didn't go as planned. Maybe someday I'll have another anniversary to reflect on- the anniversary of not having diabetes anymore. I'm not holding my breath. 

 

John Lennon sang, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." In a way I feel a little cheated that I never got to make plans before life slammed into me like a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, but it doesn't really matter. There are people with much bigger problems than mine, and even though I think about the before and after at this time of year, I've been a diabetic for over thirty years and I am in pretty good health, all things considered. So like I said, sometimes good...sometimes bad...sometimes both.

 

 

 

 

"...like having your brain smashed out with a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick."

 

On a totally unrelated note, I'd just like to point out that I fit New Kids on the Block, Beetlejuice, G.I. Joe, John Lennon and Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy  references in one blog. I win. :)

 





Limbo

Woke up with another low blood sugar this morning. Such is life, right?

We've been going through some changes at work lately, and I have to say I don't always deal with the stress well. In fact, I fail at that a lot of the time. I should be a more positive source of energy for my department, but it's hard to be positive for me even at the best of times. I'm like that old man in every old movie who was always carrying his umbrella because the weatherman said it would be clear skies. I try to be positive, but like Yoda said, "Do. Or do not. There is no try."

The thing about that line that has always bothered me is how will you ever know if you can do it if you don't try? I understand what was really being said there- "Luke, stop being a self defeatist whiny farm boy and believe in yourself." Not quite as quotable but a much better sentiment in my opinion. Saying "do or do not" sounds like "you're either going to do it or fail" and who needs that kind of pressure? This is why Obi-Wan was always my favorite.

Look at that...he even reads. (go to www.alastore.ala.org to buy one!)



Failure is always an option, and it is one that no one feels comfortable about, but at some point we all fail and that's how we learn and grow. We hate to fail because the first thing we in this society do is pick on other people's failures to distract others from noticing our own. Darth Vader chokes the life out of his subordinates when they fail so they can't throw it in his face that he killed his wife by accident (don't get me started). It's all about learning from your mistakes and failures and being a better person for it. Why Yoda didn't tell Luke that I'll never understand. Granted, Luke's failures could have meant the doom of the entire galaxy, but the guy was from a ball of sand about as far from the center of the universe as you could get. That's like telling a sixteen year old from Nebraska he is responsible for taking down an oppressive foreign government on the other side of the world all by himself. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Charlie Chaplin once said, "Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself." Now, if you ask me, that's the guy I want in my corner. Understanding. Clear. And able to make me laugh with more than just his impossibly proper diction.

I fail all the time with my diabetes. I try a new basal setting on my pump and either go high or low. I misjudge how much I eat and end up feeling like ick because my blood sugar skyrockets. I forget to eat after I bolus because I'm distracted by something and then wonder half an hour later why I'm a sweaty, cranky, blurry mess. It happens. And if I spent all my time worrying about those failures, I'd never learn from them. I try, I fail, I try again...and then maybe I do it.

So there, Yoda.



You can quote me on this

I'm a "quote" person. I love when someone says something that can make me laugh, or make me nod, or make me think, and I especially like it when they aren't long winded like I am and can do it in one sentence. I particularly like Mark Twain quotes. The man was witty, which is like funny only smarter and not something many people can genuinely claim to be. Two of my favorites:

"You cannot reason with the heart; it thumps about things which the intellect scorns." (From A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.)

"Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself." (From Mark Twain, a Biography.)

I'm not exclusive about my quote collecting though. Anything witty or poignant, or amusing I'll jot down on a piece of paper and keep for later. I can recite some movies start to finish, and songs can often have some great quotes, too.

"A little slip up now and then is good for people." (Bing Crosby in High Society)

"The past is only the future with the lights on."  (+44, "Baby Come On")

"And maybe we dream to change the way that we feel, 'cause to dreamers the real world can be unreal." (From the musical Jean Seberg, "Dreamers")

I think my favorite quote is still one attributed to Mel Brooks. "Tragedy is when I cut my finger; comedy is when you fall into an open sewer, and die." I can hear him saying that in my head, and I'm not sure what that says about either of us. Still, we share a birthday, so I feel a certain amount of affinity for the man. Plus, Spaceballs.

One of the most quotable moves EVER. 

I bring quotes up because sometimes it's just a quick word or a maybe a few words that can make a day or break it. The right quote (and I'm loathe to use the word "motivational" but that's what I'm aiming for here) can bring me from a frustrated, why the hell can't I get my blood sugar under control day to a calm, I can get this day. And when dealing with something like diabetes, calm is good. And so is motivation. One of the quotes that I have pinned to the wall in my office which gives me the calm I need on those days when diabetes wants to be difficult with me is a famous Walk Disney quote-

It's kind of fun to do the impossible. ~ Walt Disney

He wasn't talking about diabetes, but I often feel like controlling this disease is impossible. And that can make for some pretty rough days, especially when I think to myself, I've had this for over thirty years. I should get it by now! It's easy to feel like controlling  my blood sugars is completely, ridiculously and in all other ways  impossible. But it helps to remember, like Julie Andrews sang in Roger and Hammerstein's Cinderella, that

"Impossible things are happening everyday."