Posts Tagged ‘nail art


I got another award! This time it is the Versatile Blogger Award, and I have been nominated by both Eros & Psyche and shoe 1000 – thank you so much!

Does that mean that I will receive TWO trophies, I wonder. I hope they are not too cumbersome.

The name seems to suggest that at least at the beginning this was supposed to be meant for bloggers who write about different topics, and actually, I try to keep my blog more or less focused on the funny side of depression, so for example I don’t include my most tearful writings, also because inspiring my readers to jump off the nearest cliff would be rather counter-productive. However, to give myself at least a semblance of versatility, I have written a totally unfunny post about recipes, and no, it’s not recipes for disaster.

The Rules and  Requirements for The Versatile Blogger Award

1. Add The Versatile Blogger award photo on a blog post

2. Thank the person (or mythical being) who presented you with the award and link back to him or her in your post

3. Share seven things about yourself

4. Pass the award along to 15 favourite bloggers. Contact the chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

So, the seven things about myself:

1. My favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio

2. The nail polish I am wearing right now is pistachio-coloured, too

3. I am wondering if I have any pistachios in the cupboard? Not likely, though

4. I like taking photographs and making jewellery. Neither of these hobbies of mine has anything to do with pistachio.

5.  I could ride my bike forever. Just go on and on and on and never come back. Perhaps some day I will do just that.

6.  I have once taken a Klingon language class.

7.  I can touch my wrist with the thumb of the same hand***.

And the 15 blog recommendations, in random order – you will see that there’s a bit of everything, don’t be afraid it’s just depressing stuff and check them out!

1. Anxiety And The Girl

2. Lindaghill

3. Anonymous in Lafayette

4. Whatasillygirl

5. Princessdeficit

6. How Do You Eat An Elephant?

7. Beth and Bex

8. Just Footsteps

9. It’s Not Just Me, Right?

10. She Wore Ribbon

11. Elodie Under Glass

12. athingirldotcom

13. Barb Taub

14. Elevated Attire

15. Life Assays

So here it is! Thanks again!


*steps on gown*

*suffers major wardrobe malfunction*

*gets completely ignored by the paparazzi*

Stupid paparazzi.

*** After a series of unfortunate incidents, I feel compelled to recommend DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME! ***



I’ve initiated the steps to try therapy, and I’m rather nervous about it; for example, what’s the dress code? Or: is writing I LOVE FREUD  on my nails a tasteful nod to the father of psychoanalysis, or a bit over the top? I’m leaning more towards “tasteful nod”.

Will I need to lie on a couch? I hope that’s only stereotypical. I don’t know what Freud was thinking: put people at ease? Really?? Why not have them sit on a toilet? Stand on a bucket in a room infested by snakes? Balance on a rope spanning the Niagara Falls?

Oh by the way! I can’t remember anything about my potty training! The only related story told in the family is that once when I was a toddler I was pushing a toy wheelbarrow in the yard, and my father encouraged me: “Push!” and I stopped and looked at him so totally puzzled, ??????????, and he insisted: “Come on, push!”, so I squatted and started to strain and AGES afterwards they still make fun of me for being an obedient little girl and trusting my daddy.

Talking about my parents, is the doctor going to convince me that my parents are at fault or that I had this horrible childhood? My brother was in therapy for a while, and he came out of it positive that just about everybody else had mistreated him; that his problems started when my mother would buy a big ice cream cone for herself but two small ones for us children, and he clearly remembers us walking downtown with such unfairly sized ice creams, and that being oh-so-traumatic. I am older than him, so I know that mum used to give us the choice :for take-away lunch we could have either pizza , or ice cream. And we would always choose the pizza, and she for herself the ice cream. So we kids had pizza first, and then she would buy her  ice cream, but feeling sorry for us she always ended up buying us a small ice cream, too. Little knowing that this would come back to haunt her so many years afterwards.

After the therapy my brother has started to come to my parents with such accusations, and mum felt all guilty and confused, and started doing therapy, too – ah, now I see why therapists might want to do that!

So am I going in convinced I have great parents, and coming out with the idea that everybody is out to get me, so I need therapy not only for depression but for paranoia, too??

Anyway, I have little hope this will bring anything. The therapist cannot solve my problem, and can at most only convince me that I don’t care about anything, which is the attitude that seems to work with the people I know who are the happiest. I hope she can do that quickly, because I think only the test period is going to be affordable, and after that I will have to either give up or find another solution, or, if I’m hooked, to sell a kidney.

I am really only looking for someone to talk to without being a burden to the friends I have left, and driving them away. Isn’t it sad, that you have to pay for that?

So, I will make an appointment; there will be a waiting list, which means that I have the time to find a suitable way to break the ice. I was thinking I could use for inspiration this joke I have found in Internet:

First session: The patient settles on the couch, and the psychiatrist begins the session:

“I’m not aware of your problems, so perhaps you should start at the beginning”.

“Well… in the beginning, I created the Heavens and the Earth”.

This should grab her attention.

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