525,600 minutes

I watched the movie Rent today. It made me miss the guys from my old support group that have died. In fact, they all died, at least the ones I was close to -- dean (never capped), Tim, Jim, Richard...

I suspect my feelings are akin to being the last living member of a family. Memories can be shared with others; but experiences can only really be shared with those that are in it with you. The time we spent in group sharing our hopes and fears about living with HIV where at times outweighed by the time spent in hospitals and at funerals.

I found out July 5, 1989 that I was HIV+; I joined the support group that fall. On May 18, 1990, we experienced the first death in our group. I noted 7 deaths in 1991 and 7 again in 1992; there were probably more. Those were the bad years. On August 29, 1993, dean died; that was the hardest. On June 26, 1996, it was Tim, my last connection to our group.

I am blessed with tremendous support from family and friends. But, when there's positive medical news or negative rantings like those of Reverend Wright's -- there's no one to call that experiences the highs and lows of living with HIV. I take comfort in knowing they are together in a better place, pain-free, and I will see them again. My love to all. La vie boheme.

My Guilty Pleasure Chest OR Confessions of a Multitasker

Let's get right to it. I haven't posted for over a month. Why you ask? Have I lost interest? Been travelling? Sick? No, no. Worse. Much worse. I have considered my blog a guilty pleasure. Recently, I told my sister that working crossword puzzles is one of my guilty pleasures. It was one of those statements that sounded inane as soon as I said it out loud. After a brief struggle to explain, I changed the topic. The voice in my head said: How sad is that?

Usually the voice in my head makes more sense than the voice that comes out of my mouth. That prompted me to explore my philosophy on this subject. I started with what I consider my guilty pleasures. Crossword puzzles (duh), blogging, sudoku, jigsaw puzzles. I'm sure there's more, but this was enough to begin my analysis. Good thing I have this blog, or last year this introspective might have led me to believe that puzzles create some Pavlovian response, or Freudian since I used to work puzzles with my now deceased mother.

I admittedly waste way too much time watching TV, so why didn't that make the list? Because I am a great multitasker. I justify most of my TV time by incorporating other tasks -- folding laundry, paying bills, going through junk mail, etc., etc. I can accomplish something while watching TV. So there is the commonality of my guilty pleasures. They are solitary luxuries which require my full attention. My theory is supported by the fact that I can do a guilt-free sudoku in the confinement of an airplane or a jigsaw if I work it with my daughter.

It is also easy to see a history of justifications. There are many activities I do for fun. Golf, bowl, ride motorcycles, eat out, etc. I can justify this time by acknowledging that at the same time I am getting exercise, building relationships, or some other worthwhile endeavor. So where does this guilt come from that I connect to simply enjoying the pleasures of life? I blame it on the Catholic nuns...

Reboot THIS You ...

I admit patience is not one of my virtues. Do I even have virtues? One virtue? Oh, but I digress... saved from contemplating that by an actual chain of thought... I am allowed to have downtime. My electronic devices are not! As long as electricity and batteries are functioning, so should every apparatus connected to them. There is nothing more frustrating to me than contraptions with chips that are performing sub-optimally (as my son would say). I hate my increased dependence on machines I cannot communicate with or threaten, my preferred communication style. The list of possible offenders increases relative to my frustration level. The computer, wireless keyboard, mouse, mp3 player. We paid good money for these wonders of technology and when I'm unable to use them for their intended purpose, well, it's not pretty. And let me just state for the record, I am not computer illiterate and am fairly well educated. But when I have to wait for a family member to come home and straighten out these derelict devices, I'm relegated to the helpless girl role. Not a part I play well. The biggest question of all -- What's the point of testing my patience when I freely admit I have none?