Grateful

Thank God 2008 is almost over. Only 24 hours and 10 minutes to go!

Silly questions

Why on earth do people still write checks in stores?

Why am I not capable of eating or drinking anything without wearing a little of it?

Why am I always so tired?

Why couldn't I have been born rich instead of beautiful? (heh)

Why do I always wait until I am running on vapors to refill my gas tank?

Why have I been staying up very, very late to play stupid games on my iTouch?

Five for Sunday

So I'm a little late. We've been traveling! It snowed! It rained! It was foggy! It was 60 and sunny! All of that over the course of 24 hours in Chicago.

Things that make me happy:

1. Needing a manicure and having enough nails to get one.
   
2. Being Mommed.
3. Christmas lights on snow-covered trees... until it rains. Then, Christmas lights through the fog.
   
4. Watching squirrels on Mom's deck eating leftover fruit and vegetables.
   
5. Finding neat treats in the liquor cabinet. Jameson's, anyone?

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Having 8 hours to wait in the airport for a flight out. Hence, all of the time for a manicure.
2. Breaking a nail less than 12 hours after getting the manicure.
   
3. Icy driveways with an oh-so-slight incline.
   
4. Really, really, really needing to color my hair.
   
5. Ankle-deep slush.
   

But, hey! After being 9 hours late getting in, we got home ON TIME. Wonders never cease!

Here We Go Again

The laundry is almost done, the extra stuff has been assembled, and I'm almost ready to start packing for our trek to Chicago tomorrow afternoon.

Mom called with news of impending blizzards tomorrow at about the time that we're supposed to take off, but it looks like it won't be that bad. Hopefully, we'll be able to get out and get to Mom's at a decent time. I would have been happy to leave early tomorrow morning and drive, but H was adamant that he didn't want to spend that kind of time in the car. Plus, he really doesn't have the time to take off and needs to work in the morning.

It will be interesting. I'm already worn out thinking about it.

It's the Most...

horrible time of the year.

No, that's not really true. I like to jab at the Christmas season because it's so chaotic, but it's really not that terrible. For many, many years the season was dreadful because I worked retail. Christmas shopping tends to bring out the worst in many people, and I've never understood why.

I had about six years during which I was able to enjoy the season. I wasn't working in a store, and was off on weekends (for the most part) and was home every night so I was able to bake, shop, and rest. Now that I'm back in the fray, I have to manage my time more tightly.

This year, I have hardly baked a thing. I did the great majority of my shopping on-line. I haven't really put up any decorations. I did feel a little guilty about it for a while, but I got over it. It's so true that we put all kinds of stress upon ourselves to have the "perfect" holidays, and create such an environment in our heads that we can never live up to. If I were not working, and had unlimited money, I would give Martha Stewart a run for her money. But, that's not an issue.

I'm grateful to be heading to Chicago, and for my family and friends that love me. And, I'm grateful that we're relatively healthy and happy. That is more than enough.

Subversive Thoughts

I don't like poetry.

I have never seen as many horrifyingly tacky Christmas sweaters as I have today.

I hate Christmas cards.

It's fabulous to have a reputation as being very calm and mature and making a horribly loud fart noise. Not an actual fart, mind you... just the noise.

I like cats better than most people. Hell, I'd like to be one of my cats.

I find multiple pregnancies that result from fertility drugs repulsive. Don't even get me started on the Duggars.

I have opened every single Christmas present in the house that had my name on it.

I really don't care if people drink White Zinfandel. At least they're not judging people that drink.

I'm thinking about letting my gray hair grow out.


Hey... this could be my Five for Friday list. It is Friday, right? Yep. Friday. Thank God.

Here, Kitty Kitty

I don't understand why some people hate cats so much.

1. They are soft.
   
2. They are elegant.
3. They are graceful.
   
4. They purr.
5. They like to cuddle.
   
6. When they don't want to cuddle, they are self-sufficient.
   
7. They are very clean.
   
8. You don't have to take them outside.
   
9. They can be potty-trained.
   
10. They meow.
    
11. They bat things around with their soft little paws.
    
12. They are quiet.
    
13. They are affectionate.
    

So, what's not to like?

Blaaaaaargh

Why on earth am I so sick all of the time? Aside from the normal Crohn's junk? I've been sleeping every chance I get, I have been eating much better, and I have been getting lots of exercise.

True, I have no immune system. Maybe being surrounded by all of the plague carriers at Job #2 and being around the constantly open doors at Job #1 is what's getting me. Being tired all of the time can't help.

I started feeling gross last night at work, and went to bed pretty much as soon as I got home last night. The vomiting started this morning, and my head has been splitting as well. I think that I'm just going to go back to bed now. I really need to get over this.

Smart Girl

Facebook is haunting me again.

I have gotten in touch with some of my classmates from grade school. The Laurel Hill Elementary Class of '82, to be exact. T was so glad to find me... he remembered me as the "smartest girl in the school." At first I was flattered, but then I was overwhelmed.

How do you live up to your potential? More importantly, how do you live down your unrealized potential? I changed elementary schools twice when I was a kid, and seemed to be light-years ahead of everyone else whenever I made the change. Mom has said that various school officials wanted me to skip grades on several occasions, but she refused to let me. I can very clearly remember being the only "gifted" third grader in a program that was geared towards grades 4-6. I was an oddity.

Perhaps the most traumatic memory of Laurel Hill was the changing of my name. I had been Chris for as long as I could remember, but was told when I registered with my Mom that there were already a great many Chrises and that I needed to be Christie. Who was Christie? All of the sudden, I was this brilliant kid thrust into a strange environment with a family that was disintegrating and couldn't even keep my name.

I certainly can't blame Christie for my failure to live up to my "potential." What is potential, anyway? Was I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer or a politician or an astronaut? Am I in the situation that I'm in because I wasn't pushed harder? Am I simply lazy? Is it all just crappy luck, and I need to get over it and be grateful for what I have and who I have turned out to be? Or, do I deserve every misery that I've had over the last few years and need to be grateful that I have a husband that loves me and can carry me when I falter?

It was a bit of a relief to change school districts when I was in High School and be able to go back to being Chris again, but that was only the tip of the iceberg of the unrealized potential. I was no longer the smartest kid in the room, much less the school. Because I came in from a different school district, I wasn't even accepted into the gifted program at HEHS. Was I relieved not to be under that microscope? Was I angry not to be recognized as "special?" I don't really remember. I threw myself into Choir and got great grades and skated by with only as much work as I needed to do.

Once again, I feel as though I've lost my identity. At a party over the weekend, I was asked how work was going and I didn't know what to say other than "collapsing." What was I supposed to say? That I'm almost 40, working two jobs, making virtually no money, am completely exhausted, but I was the smartest girl in my entire elementary school? That I'm not a bookseller any longer, and I still am a wife and cat mother, but I can bake fabulous cookies and even make a mean batch of fudge? And what is it that I'm supposed to do?

Wait it out, I guess. I'm not the most patient person in the world, though. Maybe I should change my name and start over again. I don't ask often, but I would love a concrete answer about SOMETHING.

Such a Moron

I have read very, very few of the New York Times' Best 100 Books of 2008.

What is happening to me?

Five for Friday

Time for a little change this week.

What doesn't hurt?

1. My fingernails. Except, of course, for my right ring finger which I broke off quite painfully.
2. My eyeballs.
   
3. My elbows.
   
4. My hair follicles.
   
5. My nose.
   

That just about sums it up.

Pros and Cons of Facebook

Overall, it's pretty addictive. And, it's fun getting in touch with so, so many people. I've been spending considerably less time on it lately, and certainly haven't been checking it every 10 minutes.

I made a deal with myself that I would only be "friends" with people that I know and love (or that I am a tremendous fan of). That seems to be working. I have gotten some weird friend requests from people that I don't know, and haven't felt terrible about bouncing them at all.

I have also gotten in touch with some people that I haven't spoken to in 15-20 years. Where do you begin to pick up again? I don't think that you can. You just say that you're glad to be in touch again and that it would be lovely to have a drink some time. Because it would. I don't know how I would begin to be able to recap the last 20 years, and my life isn't even that interesting.

Killer Fatigue Redux

I went to bed at 8 last night. Well, I didn't really mean to go to bed, as I was still fully dressed and thought that we would go to the grocery store when H got home.

I woke up at 9:30 this morning still in my work clothes and still exhausted. I would have stayed asleep had E not called. I'm going back to bed now. I can still get in a full day of decorating and baking.

Overheard at Work Today

Beleaguered sales clerk: Would you like to give a gift to St. Jude's Children's Hospital today?

Self-absorbed society matron: Are those socks on sale?

E was kind enough to cover for me at Job #1 tonight. I'm in bed right now and am shutting out the light imminently. I have truly had enough for one day.

He'll Break Your Kneecaps

Rod Blagojevich makes me proud to be an Illinoisian.

Heh. What a complete moron. I'm sure that he honestly thought that he'd get away with it.

Killer Fatigue

I'm Wiped Out. There's no other way to describe it. I've been tired anyway, but I spent the day at Job #1 lugging around full cases of wine and redoing displays. If I weren't so horribly out of shape, it still would have been a very busy day.

I'm not sure if both jobs are kicking my butt because I'm having a bit of a flare, or because it's Christmas, or because I've been working 60-hour weeks, or because I have been sleeping but not very soundly, or a combination of all of these factors.

The flare is a bit troublesome because I am getting a second fistula. It's small, but it's in the same general area as the original one. The swelling has gone down a little, but it's extremely painful. That begs the question, of course, of what to do about this. I need to get back into Dr. L to see what the next step is. I'm pretty sure that surgery isn't an option because of the location. My wrists and hands in particular have been awful lately.

I have been losing weight, but it hasn't been dropping off as quickly as I'd like. That would make the flare worth it.

New Toy

H just got a new MacBook.. Yes, I understand that it's not Christmas yet, and I'm not even supposed to know about its existence, but there it is. The best part of his obsession with new technology is that I get his barely 2-year-old MacBook.

It has taken me a little while to figure it out, but I'm up and running now. It's really not terribly different from my old Stink Pad, once you think about it. It is light years faster, though. And, it's so PRETTY.

Even better, my iPod works with it seamlessly. It tolerated the Stink Pad, but it LOVES the MacBook. H was so kind as to load my iTunes onto the MacBook, along with all of my music from my external hard drive. It has only taken half an hour or so to sync it up. Of course, I don't have 30,000 songs on my iPod... only a measly 3,000.

I'm so happy that I think that I'm going to take a nap until he gets home. Hah.

Five for Friday

It's a little late. Sue me.

Things that make me happy:

1. Really gooey Pecan Pie bars.
   
2. The new Kroger gas station that opened right near our house.
3. Being very close to done with Christmas shopping.
4. A clean house.
   
5. It's almost mid-December already! Yay!
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. People that will not do their job, even when it is easy.
2. Laundry, laundry, laundry.
3. The permanent ache in my fistulas and joints.
4. Did I mention the second, brand-new fistula?
5. College football. When is this season going to be over, already?
   

Signs That You're Getting Old

This weird, inconsistent pain in my lower back/rear end cannot possibly be sciatica, regardless of what Z said.

Grandpa

I just had long conversations with both my mom and my sister. Apparently, my 91-year-old grandfather had a minor stroke this morning and also has pneumonia and an eye infection. He's in the hospital, and is extremely agitated unless they pump him full of meds. He's been exhibiting signs of Alzheimer's for years now, and doesn't know any of our names any more, but is amazingly healthy beyond that.

I have always seen him as a mythical, almost frightening person. He is a man of very few words but extremely hard work. He has farmed all of his life, and tolerates nonsense from no one. When I was a girl, I used to spend time out at the farm with my grandparents, and the best times were when I would go out to the garden or out into the fields with him. He never said much at all, but always answered my many questions honestly and well.

He was never affectionate. He would accept kisses on the cheek, but that is about it. It's so poignant that he is so much warmer now that he doesn't really know who we are. However, whenever we drove anywhere together, he would always be able to reach out and grab the most sensitive part of my kneecap (in jest, of course). He would smile at my yelp and we would laugh together.

Tonight, Grandma is sleeping in the hospital room at his side, as she promised him that she would. I hope that he can go home soon. I can't imagine it any other way.

As Bad As I Wanna Be

I'm seriously considering wrapping all of H's Christmas gifts and leaving them in a pile in the living room. The torture would be exquisite.

The Bloodbath Continues

More and more people in publishing are losing their jobs. Another large reduction was announced at Thomas Nelson today, and all of the New York houses are scaling way back. I haven't seen a sales job advertised in as long as I can remember... well, not for a job that I can find interesting.

I keep telling myself that I'm doing the right thing. It's so hard, though.

Snippets

One week since I have bitten my nails! Before too much longer, my hands will be pretty again.

I just saw new home construction for the first time in months.

French Burgundies are wonderful, even if they occasionally smell like feet.

Pizza Flavor Blast Goldfish are even better than the original Cheddar ones.

We are almost done with our Christmas shopping.

I thought about going back to bed this morning but didn't.

Stages

It's funny how the oddest thoughts can go through your mind before you completely wake up in the morning. I went through all five stages of grief in about 10 minutes while I was in the shower earlier today.

Denial: I cannot possibly have any underwear that is too tight.

Anger: Even if I do have underwear that is too tight, I can't freaking believe that, of all of the clean underwear in my dresser, I came up with that one.

Bargaining: If, just for once, the underwear fits as it's supposed to, I will never ever ever eat another hamburger.

Depression: I am a big huge moose of a woman.

Acceptance: I have underwear that is too tight. It's only one pair out of many, but it exists.

The irony of it is, that after all of that agony, the underwear fit perfectly for perhaps the first time EVER. Thankfully, I don't eat too many hamburgers anyway.

Never a Dull Moment

Things to do at JFK during your 13-hour wait for a flight:

1. Revel in the fact that there is no college football on. Nor do you see anyone wearing college gear except from schools like NYU and the Carnegie Mellon School of Engineering.
   
2. Try to guess the native countries of fellow passengers by eavesdropping on snips of their native languages.
   
3. Count the passengers that would freak out the TSA at BNA and then give up. It would mean practically everyone except you and H.
4. Look! A yarmulke! When was the last time that you saw one of those? Reflect.
5. Try not to get sad about the exotic places that you're NOT going. San Francisco, Athens, Milan, Pittsburgh...
6. Determine whether or not the Ladies' Room is suitable for a quick sponge bath in a pinch. Updated answer: absolutely not.
   
7. Where are all of the flight attendants? Normally, you see them in droves. They're all hiding. Updated answer: the flight attendant on our trip to BNA confirmed this.
   
8. Look for foreign aircraft, or make it up that you saw exotic ones while H was taking a walk. Watch him get irritated. Feel guilty for teasing him.
9. Search everywhere for a socket so that you can recharge the phone/ipod/Nintendo/whatever died during the last 13 hours. Give up. There is only one socket in the entire terminal, and it's being used by someone wearing a yarmulke. See #4.
   
10. Feel momentarily depressed that you've been in the airport longer than the barista at Starbuck's. Cheer up when you realize that you could BE a barista. Say a quick Hail Mary.

See... the day wasn't a complete loss.

Shall We Dance?

Tonight, I heard some horrible news about a person that I haven't thought about in 20 years. Now, I can't stop thinking about him.

M and I were casual friends in high school. We were in choir together for four years, and had always been friendly. We got to know each other much better when we were cast across from each other as the leads in The King and I our senior year.

I have always hated to dance. I have no sense of grace and have always been so clumsy. Of course, one of the most important scenes in the show was when Anna showed the King how to polka. We rehearsed that scene for weeks and weeks and weeks, and finally got to the point where it looked like I was leading but he still was. He was always patient, and gracious, and never made me feel like the clumsy oaf that I was.

One night during a show, it all seemed to click. We whirled around the stage, hoopskirts and all, and ended the scene with a flourish as he spun me around. Oddly enough, I didn't fall or trip, and it felt so natural. We threw our heads back and laughed as the audience applauded.

Last Friday, M was hit by a car as he was scraping frost off of his back window. He lost one of his legs at the scene, and is in danger of losing his other one as well.

I can only pray that he will have the strength to get through this and will dance with his daughter at her wedding. Maybe not a polka, but a precious dance just the same.

Today's Lesson

If you go to WalMart after work, and there are a number of parking spaces right in front of one of the doors, that is because that door is locked for the evening. Either move your car or quit whining about the walk. Be grateful that it's not raining.

Daily Agenda

1. Wake up grudgingly. Curse creatively in various languages.
   
2. Shower and dress in something other than pajamas.
3. Grab something for lunch and/or dinner before running out the door.
4. Wear self out running around at work.
   
5. Focus on the dark drive home.
6. Wash, brush. Have emotional reunion with pajamas.
7. Crash.
8. Repeat.
   

Subversive Thought of the Day

There are a whole lot of ugly babies out there.

Five for Friday

Let's change things up a little this week.

Musicians that I will always turn up:

1. Josh Rouse
2. Radiohead
3. Mark Knopfler/Dire Straits
   
4. Indigo Girls
5. Aimee Mann
6. The Replacements
   

Musicians that I will turn off so quickly that I might break a nail:

1. The Pretenders
2. The Black Crowes
3. Smashing Pumpkins
4. Shawn Mullins
5. Neil Young
6. New Radicals
7. Lenny Kravitz
   

Musicians that annoy me because they name songs after themselves:

1. Train
2. Stray Cats
3. Bad Company
   

The Glory of a Full Day Off

1. To get hair cut or not to get hair cut? That is the question.
2. My pajamas have missed me, and have been greatly confused by the fact that they spend more time in a heap on the bathroom floor than on my body.
3. The girls have missed me as well, and are curled up in bed with me RIGHT NOW.
   
4. Want a glass of wine? Rock on!
5. Daytime TV is still crap, but On Demand is always an option.
   
6. Or, there's always Battlestar Galactica episodes to rewatch obsessively.
7. I can harvest my farm on Facebook whenever I want to!
8. Sleepy. Must take nap now.
   

Life is good.

The Crud

I have had various stages of The Crud for the last two weeks. I'm not even sure if it's the same Crud, but it feels like it. It's not the flu, because that's upper respiratory, and this Crud is striking in different areas. I realize that I have no immune system to speak of, but I have been eating and sleeping better. I'm certainly getting a lot of exercise.

Am I going to feel like this all winter? Oh, please, no. I should just be grateful that I have a FULL DAY OFF today and get lots of sleep.

Both cats have been circling me like I'm about to die imminently and they want to scavenge my carcass.

Quote of the Day

"After all the misery and the f*cking bulllsh*t, is that all there is?"

-Tony Soprano

Word.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Panera. I wish that there was one here in town. But, on the other hand, it means that I eat fewer bagels. Not necessarily a bad thing.
   
2. Paychecks, and going to the bank to deposit them.
   
3. Having H pull on my neck when it gets too tight.
4. Knowing that the bills are paid.
5. The beautiful new rosary that J bought for me at the Vatican.
   
6. The fact that saying that same new rosary puts me right to sleep without meds. Should I feel guilty about this? I think not. The Blessed Virgin wants me to sleep soundly.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. People that drive 20 miles under the speed limit when it rains.
   
2. People that wear slippers out in public. I saw three of them tonight in the course of an hour at Job #1. And, it was raining! Are you too lazy to tie your shoes???
3. Not being able to take a bath without a cat bursting into the bathroom and whining at me.
4. Not having done Yoga for a few weeks.
5. Bastards that abuse poor, defenseless little animals and kids.
   

Wow. I guess that I'm happier than I thought.

The Best of Intentions

I found an amazing recipe in the NYT for a potato gratin with leeks and Gruyere. I bought all of the ingredients, and then promptly forgot about it.

The leeks got rotten quickly and I threw them out. They're root vegetables! They're not supposed to rot!

I'm eating the Gruyere now with a glass of Magellan Gin. I'm not sure that it's the ideal pairing, but I love it.

Now, I have to figure out what to do with the ton and a half of potatoes.

What is Right?

I am adrift.

On some level, I should enjoy my lack of responsibility. I should also enjoy the exercise that I'm getting and the love that I feel from my co-workers. But, I can't do this forever. Not just because of the money, of course, but because I'm hard wired to accept more responsibility than this. I need to be in charge of something, even if it's just refilling the minis in the display case. Paying bills doesn't count.

The good thing is, that with the exception of the excruciating sinus headache today that kept me home from Job #2, I have been feeling much better over all. Tired, yes, but able to work and work and work. I think that I need to carve out time off every week so that I can get some solid rest.

I also chatted with R tonight about the half marathon next spring. He thinks that I should train to walk it, mostly because of the Crohn's, and run some of it as a bonus if I can. That's a noble idea. I'm getting to the point where I think that I could do that. And, I'm losing weight even though I'm not really trying. That always helps.

Shame on Me

I wish that H would go upstairs so that I could change the channel away from the CMAs. I really, really hate Country music.

Observations on an Honest Day's Work

The last two days have been stressful at both jobs. Some basic reasons why:

1. Many Mommies tend to either forget or ignore that their kids need breaks, food, and naps. If the kid is screaming, it's usually for a reason.
   
2. Some people look down on those that work retail. Do they think that we're uneducated or stupid or both?
   
3. I need to invest in some really good shoes.
   
4. Tylenol works best when you take it when you first need it, not when the pain gets intense.
   
5. Always bring an extra bottle of water.
   
6. Avoid the food court.
   

I am really enjoying both jobs. Granted, I would like to make a little more money, but this is so good for me. Not only am I getting a ton of exercise, I feel NEEDED. It has been a long time since I've felt needed. There is so much satisfaction in knocking out a lengthy to-do list and then going beyond that. And, at both jobs, I can look back on the day and know that I accomplished something tangible.

H says that he's proud of how hard I'm working and how well I'm holding up. I just wish that I wasn't so bloody tired all of the time.

Yuck

For what it's worth, I can live without dirty gin martinis. Dirty vodka martinis are slightly better, but not much.

I'd rather eat the olives by themselves.

Stocking the Freezer

Pork Tenderloins were on sale at Publix. I bought three of them, split them in half, prepared a marinade of apple butter, apple cider with brandy, and spices, and threw the six baggies in the freezer.

H's mom was kind enough to send us more stuff from Omaha Steaks.

And, when I have felt like cooking, I've made extra large batches so I can freeze some of it right away. There is one more container of Greek Cinnamon Chicken in there ready to go.

It's tiring to think about, but at least we'll have good stuff to eat even when I'm working 60 hour weeks. I need to get the crock pot fired up as well.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. The Formula Shiraz/Cabernet.
2. Bright red maple trees.
   
3. Gas for only $1.95.
4. The big Tiffany's catalog that we couldn't afford to buy anything from.
5. Making lists of cookies to bake and gifts to buy for Christmas.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Customers. They all drove me nuts today.
2. The big Tiffany's catalog that we couldn't afford to buy anything from.
3. The fact that everyone in TN is freaking out because the temperature has dropped below 70. It's still t-shirt weather, folks!
4. Snark about Obama and his choices for his advisors.
   
5. Having to pay bills.
   

Job situation

So, for clarity's sake, let's call the wine store Job #1. I spend most of my time there, and I love it.

J from Job #1's wife manages two children's clothing stores at the mall. When the whole disaster happened, he called her and hooked me up with a part-time gig.

Yes, it is true that I don't like children. And yes, it is also true that I don't want to get back into retail like that. But, it's fabulous exercise and it brings in extra $. As we are all about the Benjamins these days, it fits. And, it keeps me from laying around in bed all day sleeping. So, I will listen to the screaming and dodge the mommies and see if something interesting comes of it.

If nothing else, it will cover the car payments. That is brilliant.

Aftermath

Hearing "President-Elect Obama" makes me grin from ear to ear.

On a not so happy note, I was at Publix tonight after Job #2. Or is that Job #3? Let's make it Job #2. Anyway, there I was in the cheese case, minding my own business and thrilled that I was almost done shopping, when I was approached by a guy in a hair net. He wanted to know if we talked about politics at my work today.

Actually, no. I spent the day dodging strollers while hung over, so there were no discussions of politics.

He went on to say that he was sure that the only reason why Obama was elected was because people hate Bush. He couldn't imagine any other reason.

I can think of lots of reasons, my friend. Bush is just the tip of the iceberg.

One more reason to avoid going to the grocery store.

A Deep Breath

I feel hopeful.

And, I'd really like to know what constitutes a blowout.

Heh. That's not nice. This is a time for renewal, not divisiveness. Seriously.

Live Blogging?

This could be disastrous, but I'll give it a shot.

7:11 How interesting that Obama is celebrating in Grant Park with the masses but McCain is at the Biltmore in Phoenix. I wish more than anything that I could be with T at the Congress Hotel right now.

7:17 I still have a hard time accepting that I live not only in a Red state, but also one that has such incredibly stringent liquor laws. The local ballots are rife with referendums on booze.

7:25 I meant well to have windows open for the Trib, Tennessean, Washington Post and NYT, but it's making me crazy. I'll stop messing with it once my guests get here imminently.

7:32 Soledad and Bill's exit polling graph makes my head explode.

7:58 T just called me from Grant Park. Rumors abound. I have promised to text her when anything interesting happens.

8:17 More and more Senate seats for the Blue guys.

8:25 Mitch McConnell. Blech.

8:42 Need mind bleach to stop thinking lascivious thoughts about John King.

9:07 Pundits are saying that it's over but I'll believe it when I see it. No champagne yet.

9:35 207 to 135. Enough already! Call it! We know that it's impossible for McCain to win!

9:37 Holy holograms! First Jessica Yellin, now the Congress? Yikes.

9:45 I wanted to play with the holographs on CNN.com, but it's only a scaled-back Magic Map. Bother.

9:54 Polls closing on the West Coast shortly. Hopefully, we'll get an answer SOON.

10:07 Crying and drinking sparkling wine.

I think that's it for me.

Big Day

Today is one of the most important days in a very long time. I hope that the American people will have the courage and wisdom to do what is right... or, at least, what they believe to be right. It's more essential that they get out to the polls.

The next few hours will be Very Interesting.

Late Night Worries

Are the polls really true, or are we going to get an ugly surprise on Tuesday night?

Will working late at both jobs mess up my body clock more than it already is?

Will I be able to get those maples planted once and for all?

Will we ever get the garage cleaned out?

Do novenas really work?

Do I have to go to New York in a few weeks? Really?

Am I spending too much time on Facebook?

I Don't Get It

Living in an area that is so insane about football, whether it's high school, college, or pro, is wearing on me. I watch the Bears occasionally, and the Titans if there is nothing else on, but the mania escapes me.

What really irks me, though, is the rampant use of "we." As in, "We really blew it last night," or "We have a great defensive line this year." I don't know a single person that actually played football after high school, especially the women.

It's worse at the store. All of the guys play fantasy football, and they are all glued to the scores on Saturday as well.

Two more months and the college season will be over. Thank God.

Homesick

I want to go to Chicago.

I want to go to the Obama rally in Grant Park with T on Tuesday night.

I want to wake up to the smell of coffee at my Mom's.

I want to smell the crisp autumn air, complete with smoke from a fireplace.

I want to get on an airplane.

I want an Italian Beef sandwich.

I want.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Halloween! The greatest show in town happens right across the street.
2. Frost. Now, if it would just snow...
3. Coffee. Nectar of the Gods.
4. Not having to close at the store tonight.
5. Flavor Burst Goldfish in gallon boxes.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Stupid strings of purple lights from WalMart that don't connect. Now what do I do with them?
2. Enormous bags of Halloween candy that beg to be opened ahead of time.
3. External keyboards that won't work.
4. A lingering feeling of depression and malaise. At least it's not so bad that I'm incapacitated.
5. Spiderwebs... and not the decorative ones.
   

Poor Little Sick Girl

It has been a while since I read anything (outside of current news) that has completely enraged me. Sick Girl, by Amy Silverstein, has done just that.

She was a healthy 24-year-old when she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She had a boyfriend that loved her, and was a law student at NYU. It seemed to hit her like a bolt out of the blue. In less than 8 months, she had degenerated so thoroughly that she required a transplant. Sure enough, because she was young and this was so dramatic, she received the heart of a 13-year-old. Anyone else would have been grateful.

From the very beginning, she was admittedly irate with her doctors. Her first cardiologist, before releasing her to another, was told in no uncertain terms that she would ever take prednisone... only because it might cause her to gain weight. She didn't need to know any more about it. She screamed like a banshee and ran down the hall out of her room the first time that a nurse tried to get an IV into her. This behavior from an Ivy League educated 24-year-old?

It took her two months in the hospital to accept that she actually might need a transplant. After all, she wanted HER heart, not someone else's, and even after she had the surgery she complained that her heart was "dead." Yeah, that's the point.

This is where the pity party really begins.

Her boyfriend proposed to her while she was waiting for the heart. Eventually, he married her, and stuck with her through everything. Such a saint I have never seen. She even admits that her behavior was much better when she was around him because she didn't want to upset him. Too bad that she didn't take that hint from him all of the time. Her father organized an enormous wedding for her, complete with handmade dress and 400 guests, and she complained that they all thought that she was well! She had to sneak into the coat closet to take her meds! She had fought for the last two years to ignore her illness as best she could, and then got upset that everyone else was following her lead!

She was supposed to live for only ten years with her new heart, and at the time of publication, had made it for over twenty. Poor, poor sick girl. She finally decided that she was going to stop taking her anti-rejection meds because they were so toxic and so hard on her that her life wasn't worth living. Never mind that her family, husband, and son were completely devoted to her.

Yes, I said son. Perhaps the only non-selfish thing that she did in the entire book was to adopt a boy, rather than giving birth to one.

Ultimately, she learned that the problem was caused by a congenital defect, not neglect from her evil doctors or a virus, as she believed fully. Once she learned that, she was fine with the whole thing! She suddenly turned from a victim that had her life cruelly ripped from her at the age of 24 to a ticking time bomb for her entire young life. It didn't stop her from being a nasty bitch with a death wish, but it made it easier for her to tolerate.

Granted, I have never been that sick. But, I do take a heck of a lot of meds (in fact, for many years I took Imuran, as she does, but in lower doses). And, I do suffer some pretty miserable side effects from them. Immunosupressants are certainly no picnic for anyone, regardless of the dosage. I have also been in tremendous pain, and scared witless, and would have been perfectly fine with dying. But, I've also put on my big-girl panties and moved on with it. Life is good. And, it's a gift. Every day is a gift. Millions of people die because they can't get treatment for diseases like hers, or mine.

The real irony is that she's on the board of directors for UNOS. So, she doesn't want her donated heart, but can help dictate policy for millions of people that do desperately want and deserve organs? That makes me sick.

I thought that it would make me feel better to get this off my chest, but it just makes me angrier. I'm even more angry that I bought the stupid book.

Little Brats Redux

I got out of the shower to find them both at the door staring at me. It looked like something out of a Stephen King novel.

I started to say, "No, you can't have another t--..." then realized that I couldn't say the word "treat" because they would expect one.

Another "No" solicited blank stares with their beautiful golden eyes.

I'm so glad that I have to go to work now. At least I won't have to worry about them staring me down all afternoon.

Little Brats

We are freakishly attached to our cats. They are our kids, after all!

Ever since A had a horrible bout with pancreatitis a few years ago, we have had to give her special diet food. K eats it as well, of course. And, both girls love to get treats. So much so that they will come running from various points in the house when the word "treat" is uttered. We searched in vain for all-natural treats, until H's mom bought some from the Three Dog Bakery for them for Christmas. The girls love them and now we have to order them online.

I ordered another batch the other night, only to find out that they now have LOBSTER. They previously only carried Salmon and Chicken, and of course, they don't like the chicken. I don't even eat lobster! But, I ordered one anyway to test it.

The treats just arrived. I opened the box, asked if anyone wanted one, and they both came running. I gave them a lobster treat. They sniffed it, stared at me quizzically, meowed with concern, and then wolfed it right down. I don't think either one of them chewed it.

I'm so glad that they're happy. I don't think I could handle it if they ignored me or woke me up repeatedly during the night because they were miserable.

(end snark)

Learning to Accept

I'm the sort of person that the Serenity Prayer was made for. I don't like to take no for an answer, and I am always looking for ways to circumvent a challenge to get the desired effect. Over the last few years, I have had to learn to deal with situations that I didn't like in the least but have carried on anyway.

Being in relatively constant pain has been a challenge but has actually been beneficial in a few ways. It has forced me to ask for help (especially with meds). It has forced me to slow down. It has forced me to take my health seriously and not for granted.

I've just started to reflect on what the most recent loss of a job will mean to my career in the long term. This is the first time since I was 15 years old that I haven't had a job in either the retail or publishing end of the book business, and it is frightening. I have always identified myself as a bookseller before practically everything. Now, I can't say that and it leads me to question who I really am.

No conclusions yet, but I hope that it will be enlightening.

Thoughts and Prayers

I wish that I knew how to pray.

No, that's not entirely true. I know how to pray... say the words or think the thoughts. Talk to God. Ask for help, forgiveness, patience, love, protection. Just do it and do it often.

The catch is that I'm not a person of faith. I don't think of praying automatically. And, when I do, I'm not confident that God listens. I've always taken somewhat of a Deist approach to faith, in that I believe that God loves us but doesn't necessarily intervene. He gave us brains and free wills and we have to use them to the best of our abilities. It bothers me enormously when people blame (or credit) God for everything that happens in their lives. Isn't that a bit arrogant? Instead, I ask for guidance and for what is best. When, of course, I remember to ask.

H is a man of tremendous faith. And, I work with quite a few people that are also people of great faith. I envy them that comfort. But, having that strong of a resolve isn't natural for me. Is it disingenuous for me to work to become a person of greater faith now that I really, really need the help and guidance? Or, is it something to aspire to?

Perhaps I should just say the words, think the thoughts, and listen.

Ah-choooooo!

The only thing more annoying than putting on mascara is sneezing right after you have done it.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Red leaves on the maple in my backyard.
2. Octoberfest beer everywhere.
3. Going to lunch with M.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Pretty severe joint pain, especially in my hands and wrists.
   
2. Being dreadfully out of shape.
3. Joe the Plumber.

Sorry. I have run out of thoughts. It will have to be Three for Friday today.

Vote Early and Vote Often

If only voting early would ensure that I don't hear another word about the freaking election.

Knocked Out

I'm exhausted. I have done practically nothing for the last two days but read and sleep. I know that this is one of the first signs of depression, but I don't feel depressed. I'm justifying the exhaustion by my lack of sleep over the weekend. A few glasses of wine + hard-core snorers = only a few interrupted hours each night.

I need to:

1. Get the kitchen cleaned up.
2. Figure out what to do with the butternut squash that I bought.
3. Get my suitcase put away.
4. Pay the rest of the bills.
   
5. Start some laundry, especially the shirts that I'll need for the next three days.
   
6. Figure out what we're doing for the Halloween party next week.
   
7. Plant those fracking trees.
   
8. Trim the ginormous shrubs in the front yard so we can see the Halloween hijinks.
   

What will I actually do?

1. Play on the internet.
2. Check Facebook every 3 minutes.
   
3. Read.
4. Take a shower.
   
5. Have a snack.
   
6. Go get the mail... maybe.
   

My bad. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Why?

Charter changed the channel lineup around. I'm so confused. I never did learn the channel lineup last time they changed it.

Cats Are Weird

A is sitting on the arm of my chair. She is purring and making snorting noises every once in a while. It's adorable.

She Speaks For the Trees

Mom brought the maples. They're all 2-3 feet tall, with huge leaves. There are 6 or 7 of them. I'm not crazy about digging the holes in our clay-filled backyard for them, but the roots are small. I think that I can handle this.

I should do this tomorrow. We'll see.

A Lesson in Patience

It was a lovely weekend. Mom, P, E, and I went to Paducah to see the sights and determine if they would ever want to live there once they retire. The answer was a resounding "yes," thankfully. It really is a wonderful little town, with lots of restaurants, shops, and interesting things to do. We spent the day on Saturday shopping and sightseeing and Sunday looking at homes.

If I need to get going, I want to go. I can be ready to be out the door in 20 minutes, and I don't like to wait around. The other three operate on other schedules. E takes at least an hour to get ready (and an hour is quick for her!), and Mom and P can get ready quickly but take just as long to get their stuff together and get out the door. I was always the last one to shower but the first to go. I also spent a lot of time waiting outside, or in the car. I tried so hard not to show my frustration, but couldn't help it when it took half an hour to check out of the hotel yesterday.

The only time that H and I fight is in the morning. Neither of us can stand getting up, but I get up and moving (quickly) when I have to. He gets up late and moves glacially. It is always stressful for both of us when we have to be somewhere and I have to press him to hurry, because he won't. Thankfully, he is always good about getting up to catch planes because he knows that the thought of missing a flight drives me over the edge.

I need to learn how to slow down. Or, maybe not slow down, but to let other people operate at their own speed.

You Know You're Getting Old When...

You have a special towel just for coloring your hair.

The Tree Saga Continues

B told me that it takes a whole lot to kill a cypress, and that they can bud leaves at strange times. So, it could very well not be dead. I really don't know what to do with it.

Mom is going to bring little baby maples to Paducah. I don't know what I'm going to do with them, but I'll figure it out.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Empty laundry hampers.
   
2. Tortellini a la Vodka from Amore.
3. Mad Men and Sons of Anarchy.
4. A weekend with my Mom, P, and E.
5. Rain accompanied by 60 degree temperatures.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Being treated like I'm going to break down at any second.
2. Being late.
   
3. Shows piling up on TiVo. What was I thinking?
4. Enormous bags of Halloween candy.
5. Regis and Kelly.
   

Comfort

In response to your question, I'm okay. Really. I seem to have skipped the other stages of grief and have gone right to acceptance. I've slept on and off all day today because I'm exhausted, but there haven't been any other symptoms of depression. So far. Keep your fingers crossed.

Last night at Job #2, one of my co-workers, who is truly a man of few words unless they're profane, told me that I might not like it but he is very happy that I'll be around more. It meant the world to me to hear him say that. They have all rallied around me and have made this so much easier. I wonder if the gators wouldn't be that much worse if I hadn't kept this job.

I have a lead on an interesting part-time job as well. As Grandpa says, sometimes it's not what you know, it's who you know.

It's all good.

Some Guys Have All The Luck

So H went to the Apple Store in Green Hills tonight because he wanted to get a preview of Leopard. One $10 raffle ticket later, and he was the winner of this. Un-freaking-believable.

He came into the store SO EXCITED. I don't blame him for a second. He took J and D out to the car to see it in his trunk. It has a 24" screen, for God's sake!

I just wish that it had been cash instead. I could never ask him to sell it, though.

Count Your Blessings, Dammit

We had a special day at a nearby winery with all of the folks at Job #2 yesterday. It was wonderful. They gave us the deluxe tour, and we got to taste all of the wines (which doesn't happen on a weekend). J had lunch catered in. We all got to sit around, laugh, drink wine, take pictures, and enjoy being together.

I am so blessed to work with such a wonderful group of people. They always make me (and H as well) feel completely loved. And, I get paid to have a good time! J said that he would give me as many hours as I wanted, which is such a huge relief. It won't cover everything completely, but it will be better than nothing. Or unemployment.

I guess that this is technically Job #1 now, but for the sake of clarity, it will continue to be Job #2.

Stormy Weather Coming

It looks like it could be very rainy in not the too-distant future.

That sounds about right.

Recipe For a Great Party

From what I've heard, everyone had a fabulous time last night. So fabulous, in fact, that the evening didn't end until 3 am. A few observations:

1. Planning is everything.
   
2. So is teamwork. H was such a great help.
   
3. Don't panic when you see the enormous mess the next morning. That's why God made dishwashers.
   
4. Prepare everything that you can ahead of time.
   
5. Use a crock pot.
   
6. Things break. But, things are also replaceable. What's the point of having it if you don't use it?

It really makes me want to start planning the next one.

Wow.

Back to the job search again. Wow. I had expected it, but not now.

Five for Friday

I was a bit remiss last week, but it was just so nice to be out of town. So, here goes.

Things that make me happy:

1. Ruby Red grapefruit juice.
2. On-time flights.
3. Putting out lots and lots of recycling for the curbside guy.
4. Busy social calendars on weekends.
   
5. Halloween and fall decorations.
6. Being missed by a cuddly cat or two.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Clogged kitchen sinks the day before a party.
2. My next door neighbors.
3. Dirty litter boxes.
4. Putting away all of the debris from traveling.
5. Sniffles that go on for a month.
6. Having to miss yoga because of the aforementioned clog.
   

Dead or Not Dead?

We have two cypress trees in the front yard. The contractors put them in before we closed on the house, and we were never given a choice about what we wanted. But, they seemed to be perfectly nice trees, so we left them alone.

The one by the driveway is lush and big and healthy. The other one is dead, or so I thought. It dropped all of its leaves back in June, and has looked crunchy ever since. But, we left it in place, as the summer is definitely not the best time to plant trees (particularly in the hot South). I had already planned on a nice maple to replace it.

Damned if that tree isn't coming back to life. It's sprouting leaves! Little, tiny, healthy green leaves! What the hell is up with that? It's FALL. Leaves are turning yellow and red and orange and DROPPING. Yet, the stupid cypress in my front yard that had (or perhaps still has) a death wish seems to be coming back to life.

All I want is a maple like the one in the back yard. But, how can I murder a tree that might possibly not be dead after all?

Is It Just Me...

or are coupons getting worse and worse? I would think that with grocery prices skyrocketing that coupons would become more plentiful.

Of course, I could spend a whole lot of time looking for them online, but I don't have the energy for that. Yet. I may have to start at this rate. Thank God it's just the two of us.

It just fuels my loathing of grocery shopping.

Crabby

I am not a very nice person. No, that's not entirely true. I'm not a bad person at all. But, airports bring out the worst in me every single time.

It's not the endless waiting in line. It's not the hike of 6 miles to get to the gate. It's not the schlepping of the overstuffed suitcase onto a shuttle bus. It's the talking.

I am one of those people that appear approachable. Strangers come up to me out of nowhere to ask directions, or questions, or for help, or just simply to make conversation. Normally, this wouldn't bother me, but when I'm traveling, I want to enjoy the traveling. I don't want seven different strangers ask me what brings me to X destination. I don't want to watch someone's bags when they say that they'll be gone for 5 minutes that turn into 20. I don't want to explain, although the gate agent already has twice, how to get on the freaking plane.

I love to travel. Packing is sport. So is buying tickets and making all of the minute yet essential arrangements. I would travel professionally if I could figure out how, and it makes me sad that travel agents are going the way of dinosaurs in this age of Travelocity. When I'm in an airport, I want to soak it all in and relax. However, I must have some target that calls me out as a sucker for helpless little old ladies.

Don't get me wrong... some of my favorite people are little old ladies. However, none of them are helpless or act that way. Traveling isn't scary or terribly difficult. Just pay attention. And please, give me a break. Just once.

Divine Dinner

I just had the most wonderful dinner that I've had in a long time. It was seared diver scallops with pureed sweet potatoes. I'm not normally a fan of sweet potatoes, but these were creamy and not overly buttery with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. A glass (or two) of La Crema Chardonnay worked perfectly with it.

I want to curl up in a little ball and purr for a while, but I have to pack both of us up to go home. And, as H is a champion souvenir shopper, it will be no small task. I may make him go get me a beer before this is over.

I don't want to leave Colorado Springs. I really love it here. But, I miss the girls, and we both do need to work. Bully for us.

One More Thing About Warnings from Locals

If they tell you to drink a lot of water, because the altitude affects alcohol and medication intake, DO IT. They're not kidding and you will be unspeakably embarrassing to your friends and H because your tolerance is only about a third of what it normally is.

The good thing is that I wasn't hung over the next day because I had hardly anything to drink, but I more than paid for it the night before.

Prudence is the better part of valor. Yes, you heard me say that.

Perils of Pike's Peak

After their class let out yesterday, H and his friend D and I decided to drive up to Pike's Peak. The entrance to the park is only 10 miles from the hotel, and it's less than a 40 mile round-trip drive. Just for a little background information, we started at about 6500 feet at the beginning, and the peak is 14,410. The drive was gorgeous. The aspens have all changed to an incredible golden color, and not many have dropped their leaves yet. As the elevation rises, the aspens disappear, and then the conifers at about 12,000 feet (the timberline).

It had also started to snow.

I was sooooooo excited. I can't get enough snow under normal circumstances. It was spitting at first, but then turned into beautiful flakes pretty quickly. At that point, I was only unnerved by the fact that we were in a rental car that I wasn't 100% comfortable with, but at least it was large. But, the drive up isn't paved the entire way, and I didn't know if the pavement or the unpaved area was more slippery.

We got to the peak, white knuckling and heavy breathing the entire time, and got out of the car into the gusting wind to go into the Visitor's Center. Of course, the visibility was only about 10 feet (as it was on the last 1000 feet of the drive). I was very dizzy and out of breath, but wasn't sure if it was because of the altitude or because I was freaking out, or both. Most likely both. We were in the Visitor's Center when they came on the loud speaker to "strongly advise" that we start down because conditions were worsening and Park Rangers would come to escort us down. We didn't wait for the Rangers, because other people were heading down as well.

No sooner did we start down then the car skidded. Not so much that H and D noticed, thank God, but enough that it made me want to throw up. One thing that I may not have mentioned about this glorious ride is that there are VERY FEW GUARDRAILS. Hmmmm. Not like a Dodge Charger in the slippery snow would have been stopped by one anyway. Thankfully, that was the only time that it skidded and we crawled down the mountain until the snow disappeared at about 10,000 feet.

Then, we were treated with some of the most beautiful sights that I have ever seen. The sun was out, the trees were glowing, the water was so blue, and we stopped at every chance we could to get pictures.

Sorry we did it? Absolutely not. But, I'm paying for it today. I have had a screaming headache all day, partly brought on by stress and partly brought on by a klonopin hangover (see the next post about altitude and medication). H took D to the airport and did some running around, and I've slept all day. I'm starting to feel human now.

Purple Mountains Majesty

Whew. What a week.

It stared off with Job #1's biannual seminar. Nothing like being at the Opryland hotel, getting lost, and walking for miles and miles and miles while being happy and wearing lipstick. :(

On Wednesday, I was able to escape a little early, but still had to go home to do laundry, clean up the house, and get both of us packed for Colorado. H has a seminar here, and I came along for the ride. We both really needed to get away.

The view from the hotel is gorgeous. We're on the 10th floor on the Northwest corner, so we have views of the mountains from both the West and the North. So much better than the time that we had the view of Ground Zero from the 55th floor! We're going to Pike's Peak tomorrow with one of his colleagues, and then the USAF Academy chapel and USOC training facility. My friend A, who we're meeting for dinner tonight, might be able to give us some hints as well.

The only real snafu is that my luggage didn't make it with me. However, Southwest was great about the whole thing, and a courier brought it to me about half an hour ago. Yay! I had a feeling that I should have carried the bag on, but I was so tired from the busy week that I just didn't feel like lifting the bag over my head. Lesson learned.

I have to jump in the shower now, as I have an appointment for a facial at 2:45. Shameless, no?

A Sorority? Seriously?

Yes, I was in a sorority in college. I enjoyed it then, to a certain extent, and I do have some fond memories of it.

It always surprises people when they hear that I had pledged a sorority. I get the "I thought that you were smarter than that" or "Oh, reeeeeeaaaaaaly?" on a pretty regular basis. I went through Rush on a whim, got the bid that same night, and was off and running. Our house, or any of the houses at NIU for that matter, wasn't one of the stereotypical Animal House Southern Belle nightmares that you automatically think of. I was drawn in by the fact that I met so many women - fat, thin, smart, attractive, plain - that I felt that I could blend in seamlessly. And, for the most part, I did just that.

Living in the house was a blast. There was always something interesting happening, and there was always someone awake. I didn't bond with either of my roommates, but I didn't hate them either. We had our own chef, our own keys, our own parking lot, and lots of autonomy. Too much, in fact, for a bunch of underage girls. But, we survived with a minimum of controversy.

When I graduated, I had a bitter taste in my mouth. I had spent my last semester as the Member at Large, which meant that I needed to mediate the ugliest facets of sorority life. And, as I got more involved, I realized that many of the women that I lived with and called "sisters" were in fact not nice people that had no compunctions about doing horrible things to each other. Like many people that I know, I walked away and didn't look back.

Now, over 15 years out, I have fonder memories. Or, perhaps, the nastier stuff has faded away. I've been getting in touch with certain people via Facebook, and it's interesting to see that a great many women are thrilled to hear from me and loved me very much when we saw each other on a daily basis. I never saw myself as "popular," but one that blended in and did my job and didn't cause any waves. To be embraced now with open arms is almost more precious than it was then.

I have always said that I would rather work with and for men, and have friends that are men, and be surrounded by men, largely as a result of college. But, there is a lot to be said for the gift of friendship that only a woman can give. Women are catty, yes, but we are also nurturing and thoughtful and compassionate. Women are good. I'm so thankful that I've finally figured that out and can learn to appreciate the women that I share a history and bond with.

Mmmmmmm

Wolftrap Syrah is the bomb. I normally don't even like Syrah, and I could drink this all day. It's juicy and moderately huge and not watery and not overly spicy.

Must get another glass. Yay, Friday nights!

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. My co-workers (at both jobs).
2. Our upcoming trip to Colorado next week.
3. Facials at the local Aveda spa.
4. My new short hair cut, although it feels too short.
5. Cool evenings with open windows.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. My lack of faith in God, myself, other people (except for H).
2. Panic over gas supplies.
3. Needing to shave my legs.
4. Repeated phone calls and email to accounts that simply aren't buying books right now.
5. The cat sitter that won't return my calls.
   

'Tis a Gift

Tonight at Job #2, we were talking about how all of us are gifted in specific ways. D, who is the 6th grade history teacher, is an extremely gifted teacher. Granted, I've never seen him in the classroom, but he can help anyone that walks in the door and explain to them what they need to know on the level that they will understand. It's amazing to watch him. He is also extremely patient, which is essential in a teacher. And, he is always searching for additional information. Learning is as fundamental to him as breathing.

My beloved Aunt P has a gift for making every person that she encounters feel loved. Nowhere is that more important than in the ER where she works as a nurse. If I had any kind of trauma, she is exactly the person that I would want helping me.

My mother has a gift for making anything and everything grow. She isn't happy unless she has dirt under her nails, and no plant too large or small is unworthy of her love and attention.

I don't know what my gift is. I can make all kinds of snarky comments about it, but I'm sure that there is a legitimate one out there somewhere.

I Just Can't Believe It!

Clay Aiken is gay.

I might have to go back to bed for the rest of the day and pray for his immortal soul.

(heh)

Oh, no!

Kevin McKidd is going to be on Grey's Anatomy. Does that mean that I have to watch it? I don't have room in my life for another television show, nor do I want one. And, I really don't want to watch Grey's Anatomy.

But, it *is* Kevin McKidd... sigh. I'll TiVo it, at least.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Donna Tartt.
2. The weather is starting to get cooler! Yay!
3. Wine tasting classes.
4. My husband.
   
5. Having cats watch over me when I'm sick.
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. This cold that Will. Not. Go. Away.
2. Nasty and nastier political campaigns.
3. Terror in the stock market.
4. The new Facebook design.
5. Finding cat vomit in unfortunate places, like on the couch.
   

On the Mat

I still feel like ten miles of bad road, and didn't want to go to Yoga this morning. I am having trouble breathing, as my cold has migrated downward from my sinuses into my lungs. As breathing is such a huge part of Yoga, I didn't think that it would work very well. But, my body is starting to crave the movement, and my mind definitely craves the relaxation, so I thought that I should force myself to go.

I was very disappointed at first, because I couldn't seem to do anything. My balance was much worse than usual and the breath thing seemed overwhelming. But, after about 20 minutes, I just got calm. Being there was more important than anything else. So, there I was.

I didn't want to go but I went. I didn't think that I could do anything but I tried. And, it was a success.

Ugggggghhhhhh

I caught the cold. H had it over the weekend, and people at Job #2 have had it on and off for the last week or so. I actually called in sick to Job #2 for the first time tonight. My nose won't stop running, all of my joints ache, my throat is burning, and I have a slight temperature. I worked at Job #1 until about 1 today, and have slept until now.

H feels terrible that I got it from him, but that's what happens when you are married.

Momentous Day

Friday, September 13th, 2002 was a busy day. Not only was I swamped with work in Cubeville from Hell, but I received a series of potentially alarming phone calls.

On Thursday night, I called my father (in hospice in Arizona) to tell him that my sister had gone into labor. We talked for a little while, and then he told me that he loved me and that he would talk to me later. I never spoke to him again.

I got a call from the hospice social worker that he was going downhill rapidly the next morning. It turned out that he told a friend of his that morning that he was "checking out" that day. I kept trying to call him, but he never answered the phone.

My mother and my brother-in-law called almost every hour to give me updates on E. K had swallowed some meconium, and E was having an extremely rough time with labor.

B, a co-worker of mine, brought in baby kitten A into the office for me. I had completely forgotten that we told him that we would take her on the 13th. She was crawling with fleas, and needed shots, so I took her right to the vet after work.

As soon as I got home, there were messages for me to call the hospice (because my father had died) and to call my brother-in-law (because my niece had been born and all were well). We are still convinced that Dad waited for K to be born so that E could carry her to term without that much extra stress. R said that when he held K for the first time, he swore that he saw my father's eyes looking back at him. It's quite possible, since he died within an hour of her birth.

I was in Birmingham, far away from all of them. But, my heart was still broken and elated at the same time.

Six years later and I'm still not sure how to handle the day.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. The possibility that we might go to Hawaii next year.
2. Ham sandwiches with a little bit of Grey Poupon.
3. Target.
   
4. Cubs baseball - and the Cubs are actually winning!
5. The pigeon asana.

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Hidden jalapenos in my Southwestern salad.
2. Being awakened repeatedly by a purring, cuddly cat. I feel the love, but...
3. The ooky, upset tummy feeling when I can't digest a fabulous filet.
   
4. Slow nights at job #2 that drag on forever.
   
5. Yoga isn't offered at GroupFit every day.
   

Young Ones

A friend of mine from Job #2 is a 6th grade History teacher. He said that he was talking about September 11th with his kids in class yesterday, and that many of them didn't remember the actual day. They were 4 or 5 at the time.

I can't imagine living in a world where there is only war and terror. I am so grateful that I remember other times, and I look forward to the day when that peace returns. K, my beautiful niece, turns 6 tomorrow. I never really thought of her having been born in a time of such tremendous upheaval, but there it is. So sad.

Seven Years

Seven years ago today, I was in my nasty cubicle at Chain #3 getting ready for our weekly merchandising meeting (in other words, flogging). As usual, I pulled up the Chicago Tribune to see what was going on in the civilized world. The headline at that time was that a plane hit the WTC but it was thought to be a small plane and an accident. Over the course of the next half hour, the second plane hit, and then the Pentagon was hit shortly after that.

H was working in DC at the time. He was on his way in to the firm during the Pentagon attack, and rose out of the Metro to see the billowing clouds of smoke across the river. His office building was directly in between the White House and the Capitol on Pennsylvania Avenue, so I was in a state of sheer terror until he called me later in the morning. His brother, who lived 3 blocks away from the WTC and worked on Wall Street at the time, was also fine (but couldn't get into his apartment without the National Guard for 6 months).

I have never been so frightened in my entire life. I have also never been so horrified as I was in the weeks immediately following the attacks. How do people in war zones function? Or, people that have had children abducted or loved ones murdered? I pray that I will never find out.

Disasters

Boy, do we have it good. So good, in fact, that I feel even guiltier about having to carry a sharp stick all of the time. I could have lost my beloved husband to cancer like Laurie. Or, my baby could have been born at 26 weeks like Kari. Or, my sister could have been in a plane crash that burned 80% of her body like C Jane.

I need to count my blessings and get my head out of my ass.

Drank the Koolaid

The thought that went through my mind tonight as I was in Yoga for the SECOND time today:

"I really need to exercise more to build up the strength in my arms."

You see, I was doing Downward Facing Dog and I don't have a lot of upper body strength. I have trouble holding myself up for prolonged periods of time. So, the natural solution is to exercise more so that I can do it without trouble, no?

Sheesh. I am exhausted but actually feel good. I think that I'll go meditate for a little while and then go to bed. Back, evil gators!

Another Weekend Down the Tubes

This gator is pretty persistent. I worked from 10-4 at job #2 yesterday, and didn't take a nap as soon as I got home. I still didn't sleep last night. Today, of course, I crashed all day. Hopefully, I won't have trouble sleeping tonight. I didn't sleep a bit on Thursday night, either. I have had hardly anything to drink, but I did meditate both nights right before bed. I wonder if that revved up my mind?

Great. I finally get off my butt in an honest attempt to do something to improve my life and it backfires. That figures.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Yoga
2. Gnarly Head Old Vine Zinfandel
3. Rain, rain, rain
4. Candles
5. Emerald Smoked Almonds
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Downward Facing Dog (although, I am getting better)
2. Stinky garbage cans
3. The RNC
4. Paying the bills
5. Obnoxiously expensive airfare for a destination that I am not fond of in the first place
6. Chipped toenail polish that I don't notice until I'm in Yoga class. So much for letting thoughts go.
   

Yeah, I know that I threw in a 6th thing to be less than happy about. Sue me. I need to be more happy.

Spandex

I bought some new yoga clothes over the weekend. They consist of shorter pants and sleeveless tanks, all made out of the spandex sweat-wicking stuff. I've never bought athletic clothes like this before. Hell, I've never bought athletic clothes.

After much fear and trepidation, I put some on this morning in preparation for the yoga class that I MUST GO TO IN HALF AN HOUR. Oddly, they didn't look too terrible. They actually look better than the oversized t-shirt that I usually wear. I don't get it.

Slipping

I feel like I'm starting to fall apart a little. It's so easy to nap and lay around and not do much. My entire body aches horribly, and I can't help but think that it's because I haven't gone to exercise. Yes, it's been very busy with work, but I can force myself to go. I'm just not good at forcing myself to do anything. I have also felt very blue. I haven't been as good as I should be with my medication, but it's only been for the last week.

E's visit was good, but I'm glad that it's over. It was pretty stressful, even though I went out of my way to be as laid back as I could be.

Five for Friday

Things that make me happy:

1. Freschetta pizzas. Just cheese, please.
2. Knowing that there is more rain coming.
3. Three day weekends. Woo hoo!
4. One convention down, one to go.
5. Starbuck.

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Weeds in my yard.
2. Unrelenting heat.
3. Wrinkled clothes right out of the dryer.
4. Huge amounts of cat hair all over the house.
5. The huge mess in my garage.

"Better Angels"

I want to hope. I desperately want to hope. I have hoped before, and have always been disappointed. And now, Dick Durbin is addressing just that.

Please let me hope again.

Random Thoughts

1. Isn't every presidential election "historical" by definition? Yeah, I understand the uproar in this case, but still...
2. I wish that I had a Magic Eraser that could wipe the unclean thoughts of John King in my mind. Heh.
3. I really need to get Season 1 of BSG on DVD. It makes work so much more fun!
4. E comes tomorrow. Yay!
   

Facebook

Too much fun. I can see this becoming an addiction. I should stick to known entities like Battlestar Galactica and eating.

Labor Day Weekend

My sister called me on Monday to tell me that she's coming for Labor Day weekend. My brother-in-law and niece aren't coming because of various scheduling issues. I was stunned. Maybe it will be best if she comes by herself, because that will give us a chance to talk without other distractions.

Now, I just have to get the house picked up. I have an impressive list of small projects that need to be done, and I haven't done a single bloody thing yet. Need to get on it ASAP. Well, maybe later. :)

This just in...

I just received the Joe Biden text message from the Obama campaign. Is this our version of the 3 a.m. call? And, did they do it at this hour intentionally or because it was leaked a few hours ago? Inquiring minds want to know.

Oh, well. I was hoping for Evan Bayh, but JB is also a good choice.

My own Five for Friday

A friend of mine from Job #1 blogs a "Five for Friday" entry every week. I like the idea, although it's technically no longer Friday. But, I have been kicking the idea around for a few days. I'm going to change the formula a little, though.

Things that I love:

1. Pimiento Cheese. How could I have lived this long without it?
2. Yoga. For the first time in a long time, I feel good physically. Hopefully, the mental good will follow shortly.
   
3. Fat Tire Amber Ale... finally available in Tennessee!
4. Fresh tomatoes from the farmer's market.
5. Crossword puzzles.
   

Things that I'm not quite so fond of:

1. Politics. Enough already! November can't come soon enough.
   
2. Muscle soreness from too much Yoga/Body Elegance.
3. My sore jaw from gritting my teeth without realizing that I'm doing it.
4. A virtually rainless August again this year.
   
5. Grocery shopping. But, you know that already.
   

Mood Swings

Not really "mood swings" in the truest sense, I suppose. Mostly, they've just been down.

• I cried yet again when Laura Wilkinson made her last dive. I've loved watching her for years, and I'm so proud. She ended on a great note. And then, that damned Coke commercial with "Breathe Me" came on right after. I couldn't help it.
  
• Leroy Sievers died last Friday. He was a long-time producer for ABC and Nightline, but I got to "know" him through his My Cancer blog on NPR.com. God bless him. I feel like I've lost a dear friend, but I never actually met him.
  
• I'm still trying not to think too hard about my dad. God bless him as well.
  
• Another school shooting? This time it was in Knoxville, but thankfully it was only one kid that died. Unbelievable. Why are guns still allowed out in the general public? Oh, yeah. The Constitution. Whatever.
  
• I spent $200 at the grocery store today without even trying. So wrong.
  

Maybe I'll have another beer and just go to bed. Or, better yet, watch more shows about serial killers on Identification Discovery. I love that channel, but it's not exactly uplifting.

Chuck

Monday the 18th was my Father's birthday. He would have been 66.

He died in 2002 after suffering from COPD for years. Because he lived in Arizona, and didn't want to "bother me" with the details, he was very sick for years until I got the call that he was going into hospice care in May '02. We went to Green Valley to spend two weeks with him, but he held on until September 13th. My sister was pregnant at the time, and we're convinced that he waited to die until she had safely given birth to her daughter.

I can't believe that he's gone. We had a very rough relationship until about 5 years before he died. He was a raging alcoholic, but sobered up when I was in high school. I'm just so grateful that he got his act together, but I feel so cheated. We should have had so many years to be together.

I love you, Dad. I miss you every day.

Ow.

Love hurts. It hurts my arms, my legs, my knees, my feet...

In spite of all of the pain, I am going to make a valiant effort to go to Body Elegance tonight. I must do it. Not optional.

Namaste

It's quite well known that I am a very lazy person. The thought of exercise is enough to make me surly. I get nasty if I break a sweat. But, I am in love.

M talked me into going to Groupfit with her last night. It's new here in town, and offers all kinds of classes from Pilates to Spin to Yoga to circuit training. I was skeptical, but I went to a class last night. It was grueling and hot and very sweaty, but I was smitten. One year's membership paid in full later, and I was back in class for Yoga this morning. It blew. Me. Away. Where has this been all of my life?

I have signed up for another Body Elegance class tomorrow night and Yoga again on Friday with M. Who ever would have thunk it?

After I signed my life away last night, M and her friend R and I went to have a celebratory beer. This leopard certainly isn't going to change her spots any time soon.

Amazing Pain

Not a good day today. In fact, it's been quite a bad one. Between the surreal joint pain and the fistula acting up, I haven't been able to sit, stand, type, walk, or do much of anything. Normally, vicodin just handles it, but I feel like I'm in a fog today. I sound like I'm talking from the bottom of a well, and it's entirely too easy for me to stare for long minutes at all of the pretty colors.

I really need to get out of this heat for good. It wouldn't help the fistula, or completely get rid of the joint pain, but it would be a start.

First Sniffles of the 2008 Olympics

I just saw a commercial of Olympic and Special Olympic Gold Medalists receiving their medals set to Sia's "Breathe Me." Damn it. I normally don't cry until I hear our national anthem for the first time. Stupid Coke.

Hurray!

I love the Olympics. Yes, I'm a complete sap. I will watch them all day and night if allowed. I'm pretty annoyed that they're not on TV right now, and I'm even more annoyed that I volunteered to work tonight so I'll have to Tivo the opening ceremonies. Yay, Olympics!

Disclaimer: I won't watch the track events. They gross me out. All else is good.

Justice

I was more than a little upset when I was let go from my previous publishing sales job last November. It wasn't the biggest publisher, or the most interesting list of titles, but it was good and consistent and viable. The problem was that the Publisher and President was a complete nut job that drove off most of her talent. I was a casualty of "reorganization..." which meant that she wanted to cut payroll and she hired someone to take my place at half the salary.

The woman that originally brought me to this company had worked with me in other capacities and went to great pains to find me once she needed to hire a sales rep. She was demoted (read as "dumped") in a horrible fashion before I was "reorganized," and has been hanging on by the skin of her teeth since then. We, and then she, has had numerous supervisors in the last year and a half and has rode it out like a champ.

I talked to her for quite a while this afternoon, to find out that she has landed a phenomenal position at a great publisher. She's going to be the Director of Trade Sales, and will do a marvelous job. She's so excited, and I'm thrilled for her. After all that she's been through, and all of the inevitable torture that will come over the next few weeks at the hands of a woman that is not only unprofessional but crazy, her reward will come. I can't think of a better person for something great. Knock 'em dead, J!

As bitter and cynical as I can be at some times, this renews my faith in God and mankind. I understand that none of us are meant to have an easy or free ride. There are some people that have been dealt more than their fair share of horrendous stuff and it's so renewing to see that everything clicks for them once in a while. Perhaps God is watching us after all.

Long Week... And It's Not Over Yet!

We had sales meetings yesterday and today. Those damn things wear me out. Although, I must grudgingly admit that it was good for me to meet some people that I hadn't had a chance to meet in person yet. I worked at job # 2 tonight as well.

Today would have been much better had we not gone to a horrendous Southern "smorgasbord" for lunch. I should have just eaten plain lettuce, but I'd bet that even would have been disastrous. I haven't been in that much pain in a while, but I wasn't the only one.

Breakfast of Champions

I don't eat breakfast normally. I'm never hungry until about 10 at the earliest, and eating much before then makes me nauseous. So, the fact that I ate breakfast food before noon as intended is a pretty big deal for me.

I'm completely in love with the new Special K Cinnamon Pecan cereal. It's probably not the healthiest thing in the world, but I can live with that. At least I ate something! Now for some more cherries. Mmmmmm.

Climbing the Mountain

I'm so sad to hear of the people that have died while climbing K2. I don't think that I would ever attempt any summit taller than my stairs, but it's nice to dream about it.

Reports are mixed from everywhere right now. I just feel terrible for the families that have been waiting at home not knowing if their loved ones would come back alive.

Grocery Shopping

I loathe grocery shopping. It's always so expensive, especially now, and the stores are too huge. Main reasons:

1. I'm not good at clipping coupons. I try, but invariably forget to bring them. Or, I don't have enough time to go through the ones that I have thoroughly.
2. I always forget something that is actually written on the list, or forget to put something essential on the list. Yes, even if it's on the list, I'll pass it up.
   
3. I always forget to bring the reusable bags that are in the trunk of my car. Now I have 7 of them and I think that I've reused them once.
   
4. I'm not interested enough to actually shop. I only go in to get what I'm looking for, and never look at the shelves to see what is new. So, I always miss something cool.
5. If H comes with me, and I try not to let this happen, he throws all kinds of scary things in the cart that I don't even notice until the cashier is scanning it. Although, tonight he was pretty well behaved. And, he argues about coupons.
   
6. Kroger is the WORST. The store is dark, filthy, poorly stocked, and even more poorly managed. But, we can get 10 cents off per gallon of gas if we spend $100 in a month. We've gone there for the last few months, but I'm sick to death of it and we went back to Publix anyway.
7. See? Dammit. I just realized that I forgot to buy a chunk of cheese, even though I was in the cheese aisle for 5 minutes. Crap.
   

When I first got sick and was living with my mom, I used to pass out in the grocery store. I don't know if it was all the walking around or the stress of being surrounded by so much food, but it always did me in. I'd last for about 5 minutes and have to go wait in the car... even if it was only 5 degrees out. She was just so worried that I wasn't eating that she would buy anything that she thought would tempt me. Interesting, but that hasn't changed much.

Now, I hate going to the grocery store unless I have a buzz. H and I went to Applebee's first. Two beers and a salad later and I tolerated it pretty well. Plus, it only took about half an hour. I'm having Magellan gin on the rocks now to recover from the trauma.

I Really Missed Her

My sister just called to wish me a happy birthday. She talked, pretty much without taking a breath, for an hour and 15 minutes. Not bad for someone that wouldn't return phone calls a few months ago.

We've always had a difficult relationship, but it has been even rougher over the last few years because of some health issues. But, over the course of the last month or so, she seems to have turned the corner and is an entirely different person now. The change has been remarkable, and I'm so grateful.

It's been particularly tough because my mother and her sister are very, very close. We've all watched as E has drawn farther away from me, and has been rough with everyone else. But, the waiting seems to have paid off. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday gift.

Bless His Heart

I'm so amazed and so thankful that Patrick Swayze is doing so well. Stupid, I know, because my affection for him is based on a few horrible movies from the 80s, but I hate to think of anyone dying horribly from pancreatic cancer. You go, boy!

So Tired

I'm not sure what's going on, but I haven't been able to sleep solidly for the last few nights. Of course, by the time I want to take something it's too late. I haven't been downing caffeine like usual, and I don't think that I'm any more upset than normal. I guess that I'll need to take plenty of meds tonight and see if that works for a change.

It doesn't help that H has been thrashing around like a man on fire. Neither cat will go near him.

Mmmmmmm

Fresh cherries. One of the few good things about summer.

Why I Love Pajamas

This has been a recurring theme... getting caught in them at odd hours, having closets implode while wearing parts of them, never changing out of them. What's the allure?

1. They are amorphous and hide a multitude of sins.
2. They are lightweight, so that when I break out into weird sweating episodes I don't boil to death.
   
3. The girls get to run free. No, not the cats. They already do. The Girls. You know. Girls unencumbered by bullet-proof vests.
   
4. I can take a nap at any time without feeling the need to change my clothes.
   
5. Pajamas = not ready to shower. I don't mind the shower, but I do mind the aftermath. I loathe drying my hair and putting on makeup.
   
6. There is no better excuse for not opening the door when the bell rings.
   

So there.

Busted

It's no secret among my friends and family that I rarely get out of my pajamas before mid-afternoon. My usual MO is that I crawl out of bed, go downstairs, and start working right away. Eventually, I will take a shower and get dressed. Sometimes that does not happen until 5 or so. Life goes on.

A while back, I made the mistake of going down to the mail box at around 4, still clad in my pajamas, and was caught by my nosy next door neighbor and her daughters. One of them asked if it was "pajama day at my school" because I was still wearing mine, and they were all shocked to see me so clad so late in the afternoon. I have also been seen in my pajamas returning neighbors' dogs to them when I saw them running loose through my back yard. I figured that my shame in being inappropriately dressed was less damaging than having a pet lost.

This morning, I went down to the mailbox to put mail out. A truck from the gas company came around the corner, but I didn't think anything about it. Turns out that my friend M had a gas leak in her attic, and the gas company was coming out to shut it off. They told her that they thought that they would be coming to my house when they saw me out in the driveway in my pajamas. It appears that many women do that when they think that they might be asphyxiated if they don't get out of the house RIGHT NOW. But, no, they needed to go two doors down. To think that I had the audacity to be in my pajamas at 8:30 in the morning! Quelle horreur! And this is me on a good day.

M said that it was all that she could do to keep from screaming laughing, because she knew exactly who they were talking about. Bite me, gas company men.

I Think It's Working

The Lexapro seems to be working. I don't feel remotely as desperate as I have, and can actually get up in the morning and function. I still crash in the afternoon, though. It doesn't seem to mess with my sleep too much. I've been having problems over the last few nights, but I think that's more caffeine related than anything else.

I feel so relieved, but I'm still waiting for the other Chaco to drop. Now, I just have to start taking my 6-MP regularly again to get the Crohn's under control...

Noo Shooz

Chacos. Awesome. I'm not a flip-flop girl by nature, but these are phenomenal. I read about them in an article in the NYT about how bad flip-flops are for you, but these are stellar. And, most of them come from recycled materials. Pair #2 just came yesterday and I'm wearing them right now. With my pajamas. Pretty.

Tough

It has been a rough few weeks. I've been traveling, adjusting medicine, and trying not to stay in bed all day.

I was shocked to hear H say last night that he now fully understands. Apparently, when I was in Atlanta, he had his own killer case of gators and missed work because of it. When he wasn't missing work, he went out to the car to lay down. I feel horrible that he has gone though that. He's never really been depressed, and doesn't take antidepressants, but in a way I'm relieved because now he says that he understands.

It's easy to get mad when you come home from work and find your spouse still in bed, exactly where you left them 11 hours earlier. You want to just tell them to take a shower and snap the hell out of it and move on. Depression is weakness, you know. But, it's not that easy. And now he gets it. I should be grateful but it still makes me sad. And no, I haven't showered yet today but I'm feeling okay.

Better

I'm starting to feel a little more functional now. I don't know if it's the Lexapro starting to kick in at the higher dose, or the tons of sleep that I got this weekend, but I don't really care. It's so good to not mind getting out of bed.

We never did fix the evil toilet this weekend (mainly because I never got out of bed). Shit happens.

Taps

We killed our toilet. Thankfully, we have two others in the house, but it's inconvenient having to rush down the hall in the middle of the night with severe intestinal cramps.

It's one of those cheap, low-water nasty ones that takes more than one flush to take care of everything from diarrhea to cat poo. And, it has taken more than its share of abuse.

The toilet itself is fine, but we have to change the guts out because it won't stop running. H shut the water off entirely on Monday. The weird thing is that it acted up for a while about a year ago, but it got better suddenly and then started running constantly again two weeks ago.

I'm not a plumber, but I play one on TV.

Chomp

It's been a while, I know. We've been really busy traveling for work and family, working a lot, having the closet redone (and dealing with the messes before and after). I think about forcing myself to write, but I can't pull the trigger. I can't pull the trigger on much these days.

I've been taking 20mg of Lexapro for the last few weeks, and I don't think that it's making much of a difference yet. I've been propelled along by inertia for the last few weeks, and it has completely caught up with me now that I don't have a carved-in-stone agenda. I have more to get done now than I have in a very long time, but I can't get it together.

At least the Lexapro isn't keeping me awake.

I've been trying to put a spin on things so that H doesn't worry too much, but it caught up with me today. I've been forcing myself to get showered and presentable before he gets home, and even have been asking him to run errands with me so that I'm forced to leave the house, but he figured it out today. I told him that I had planned on going into the office, but I just couldn't. So, he called me at home and here I am. Thankfully, my boss told me that I don't have to go into the office unless I want to, so I am no longer required to go in for two days a week as we already discussed.

I'm not sure what to do, other than to pray that it passes quickly and that the Lexapro starts kicking in quickly.

Needless Worrying

Of course, that's the story of my life.

I went in to Dr. D today about the depression. I told her that I had gotten the Lexapro from my sister (which is such a lie... she won't even give me a phone call) and she was very understanding about it. In fact, Dr. D really likes Lexapro because there are so fewer side effects. She bumped me up to 20 mg, and gave me two different scrips - one so I can get it filled now and one to mail in.

She wants me to come back in 6 months to see how it's working, and to discuss talk therapy. Been there, done that. But, perhaps she can hook me up with someone that will actually help. The last person that I saw was a really nice lady, but we never really worked on it. Not that I know what to expect, mind you, but I thought that it would be much more introspective and problem solving than it was.

Purge

I just deleted Dooce from my bookmarks. I wish her all the best, but I'm over it. Now, I have more room for fabulous things like Haiku of the Day and Mimi Smartypants and Things What Things and Velcrometer. They're all my heroes.

Awwwwww.

Another Day Down the Tubes

At least I was at home today, so it wasn't as horrible as it could have been. But, I have come to the conclusion that it's just bad for me to work at both jobs on the same day. By the time that I got home last night at 10:30, I needed a vicodin and two klonopin. Boy, did I sleep wonderfully!

It's been so lovely here at night. Normally, it goes from 30 to 80 this time of year, and even the nights are brutal. We've had the windows open a little every night for the last week, and I can't help but think that's helping with the sleep issues. Well, that and all of the chemicals.

Excruciating

Last night, I was squatting, digging something out of my medicine cabinet under the sink. Because I am an enormous clod, I fell backwards onto the cold, hard, tile floor. Right on my fistula, which has been giving me lots of problems lately anyway.

I screamed. A came and sat in the doorway of the bathroom as I tried not to cry and hyperventilate. Eventually, I staggered into the bedroom to lay down. Vicodin, here we come!

Today, it's bleeding. A lot. And, it's so sore that sitting is difficult. I am not sure how I'm going to make it all day in the office tomorrow and then at the store tomorrow night. I have to call Dr. L and get more vicodin.

I hate asking for vicodin. I've gotten lectured by him about it so many times, but I still hate asking. We both know that I'm not an addict, I take it rarely, and it doesn't really have any other effect on me than taking away the pain. But, I still hate asking for it. He always gives me a full month and one refill, and it usually takes more than a year to take it all (including sharing it with needy people and refilling it before it expires).

Ah, Friday

How lovely to go to lunch with M and have a few beers. Too bad that I am so sleepy now, when I have plants to plant, dessert to bake, laundry to fold, and work to do. It's really a terrible habit, and I really should only have one beer instead of two, but it's so DELIGHTFUL.

The Perils of Poo in Public

My flare isn't getting any better. Nothing that I eat stays with me for much longer than an hour max. This means that there will be times that I will have a problem when I'm in the office, and it's pretty brutal.

Gene Weingarten has talked about Poo Shame a number of times in his chat on the Washington Post, and I fall firmly in the camp that is in denial. When I was in college, I would hold it for hours until I was able to get to my designated toilet. Now, that's not an option. I use the "courtesy flush" early and often, and yesterday I found myself lurking in the stall until I was sure that everyone that was in the bathroom had left. I am terrified of having all kinds of horrendous sounds and smells that are not fully masked by the flushes and running into someone at the sink.

You would think that I would make it a point not to eat things that would set it off, but that's no fun. You would also think that I would remember to bring the wet wipes from my desk with me, but that's no fun either. I should just offer the suffering up to God. I'm sure he'd be very sympathetic, especially after I ate fries with my lunch.

I used to work with a woman that used to GRUNT when she was in her stall. She wouldn't wash her hands, either. We were all a little relieved (no pun intended) when she was fired.

H is a fearless pooper, but most men are. He knows that if he has to go, he has to go. But, he did tell me recently that he will sometimes go to a different floor in his office to go if he thinks that it will be particularly bad. Perhaps he has a little Poo Shame after all.