I kind of hit the wall today with my asthma.
Kind of like you know you're a redneck when....
Well, you know you're an asthmatic when...
You have to ride around the supermarket with a 5 year old in one of those stupid old lady carts that beeps when you back up.
You huff and puff just to get to the freakin' bathroom.
Getting out to the garage to do laundry is soooo sooooo fucking far.
Walking to the mailbox took determination and grit.
Walking back from the mailbox took kneepads.
The idea of taking the shop vac and sticking it down your throat to pull all the crud out of your lungs sounds like a fantabulous idea.
Shopping on the net is too far to walk.
Some people may not leave home without their American express, but you don't leave home with out your inhaler, your spacer, a tupperware container full of ice and insulin, several syringes, a blood kit, BUT...
...you forget your wallet.
Off to bed.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Why at 4AM am I here typing?
I've got bronchitis. Bear and I have been sick since the weekend and I woke myself up coughing. The room is hotter than hell from running the vaporizer and I'm worrying about the Bear.
I think his meds are fucked. I called his psych yesterday about it because he's a disorganized mess and freaking me out. About a month ago, he cleaned his room really well -- spotlessly, and it's now completely "call the health department" trashed. It looks like he poured goldfish under his bed and there's snack wrappers and half eaten food. Much of it fell into boxes stored under his bed, which are now full of filthy dirty clothes. His closet, which holds his dresser, looks like it's vomiting clothing. What's worse is that in order to walk in his room, you have to wear shoes or risk cutting your feet. As a diabetic, I kid you not.
I looked at him and said that I simply don't understand how he can function. He admitted that indeed he cannot. Hell, I can't function with that next door.
I think we managed to freak him out about the food because we explained to him that mice are attracted to that kind of filth, so as he was shaking the food off the clothes to put the clothes in a basket to be washed, he was freaking out about finding vermin. I now understand why there was a fucking mouse nesting in my closet. I had scoured my room looking for the food that attracted it. Not. My. Room.
Shudder.
What's worse is that his personal hygiene is really awful. You have to stay on top of him to make sure he:
Last night, we talked to him at length about him simply washing his hands and face after each meal and every time he eats at school because he's constantly walking around with a messy face. We explained that while we'd expect that of someone substantially younger that we would hate for someone to make fun of him for that at school. He asked, "Why doesn't anyone say anything?" Mike told him about a kid that smelled like poop when he was in school -- he said, "No one felt comfortable telling him something like that, particularly teasing him about it."
You could tell that that had sunk in -- being compared to the poopy kid. I also told him that I had emailed the school nurse. Part of it is that he has a zit the size of a small country on his chin -- and if he actually washed his chin that he might not have it. I know some of this kind of stuff can be par for the course in the transition from kid to teen, but GROSS! I'm so close to calling the Regional Center to get help.
We've also been discussing with him stuff like, how to eat a sandwich. Otherwise, he kind of shoves it into his face all at once. It is the most appalling means of eating I've ever seen. I think it's fairly new or that maybe he was so young that we didn't notice before, so we've been teaching him to eat from side to side on a sandwich or burrito or burger. It's completely freaky. LaDawn mentioned it after going to McDonalds with him, after I said something about it. I think it's fairly new, but maybe it's just that he was so young that it wasn't a big deal, but it's freaking me out now.
It's all this and more that is making us worry over his meds. I hope things improve. This is the grossest phase he's ever gone through, that's for sure.
I've got bronchitis. Bear and I have been sick since the weekend and I woke myself up coughing. The room is hotter than hell from running the vaporizer and I'm worrying about the Bear.
I think his meds are fucked. I called his psych yesterday about it because he's a disorganized mess and freaking me out. About a month ago, he cleaned his room really well -- spotlessly, and it's now completely "call the health department" trashed. It looks like he poured goldfish under his bed and there's snack wrappers and half eaten food. Much of it fell into boxes stored under his bed, which are now full of filthy dirty clothes. His closet, which holds his dresser, looks like it's vomiting clothing. What's worse is that in order to walk in his room, you have to wear shoes or risk cutting your feet. As a diabetic, I kid you not.
I looked at him and said that I simply don't understand how he can function. He admitted that indeed he cannot. Hell, I can't function with that next door.
I think we managed to freak him out about the food because we explained to him that mice are attracted to that kind of filth, so as he was shaking the food off the clothes to put the clothes in a basket to be washed, he was freaking out about finding vermin. I now understand why there was a fucking mouse nesting in my closet. I had scoured my room looking for the food that attracted it. Not. My. Room.
Shudder.
What's worse is that his personal hygiene is really awful. You have to stay on top of him to make sure he:
- Showers
- Actually shampoos his hair
- Actually washes his face
- Actually puts on clean clothes
Last night, we talked to him at length about him simply washing his hands and face after each meal and every time he eats at school because he's constantly walking around with a messy face. We explained that while we'd expect that of someone substantially younger that we would hate for someone to make fun of him for that at school. He asked, "Why doesn't anyone say anything?" Mike told him about a kid that smelled like poop when he was in school -- he said, "No one felt comfortable telling him something like that, particularly teasing him about it."
You could tell that that had sunk in -- being compared to the poopy kid. I also told him that I had emailed the school nurse. Part of it is that he has a zit the size of a small country on his chin -- and if he actually washed his chin that he might not have it. I know some of this kind of stuff can be par for the course in the transition from kid to teen, but GROSS! I'm so close to calling the Regional Center to get help.
We've also been discussing with him stuff like, how to eat a sandwich. Otherwise, he kind of shoves it into his face all at once. It is the most appalling means of eating I've ever seen. I think it's fairly new or that maybe he was so young that we didn't notice before, so we've been teaching him to eat from side to side on a sandwich or burrito or burger. It's completely freaky. LaDawn mentioned it after going to McDonalds with him, after I said something about it. I think it's fairly new, but maybe it's just that he was so young that it wasn't a big deal, but it's freaking me out now.
It's all this and more that is making us worry over his meds. I hope things improve. This is the grossest phase he's ever gone through, that's for sure.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Vegas...
Day 1: We left for the airport and got halfway there and realized Genny forgot her glasses. We called the window guy and asked if he'd fed ex them to us. We went to the Luxor and went on one of those sit in the seat that jiggle and have the theater move around you things. It was fun, but I'm not sure it was worth the $40 for all of us to do it. We also stopped at little shops and stuff along the way from the Mandalay way. I found a dress that would fit Genny for $158 dollars -- it was a denim jumper that was very cute, but I could buy a lot more jumpers at Walmart for that amount of money. Nonetheless, Genny doesn't own that jumper.
We ate at a fancy hamburger place. They had a hamburger that ran $60 that had goose liver pate and truffles among other things. Our burgers were more along the $8- 10 range, but they were really good. Expensive, but good. For dinner, we were tired, so we ordered Domino's pizza, a salad, and a couple liters of soda, watched "Batman Begins" in the room. Genny fell asleep in Mike's arms -- way cute.
Day 2: We went to the Vegas Outlet. I found a lot of good deals and bought Bear a pair of swim trunks, so we could swim at the Mandalay Bay Pool. Gosh, their pool is amazing. Their wave pool, isn't one of those wimpy wave pools, it really seems more ocean-like I think because of the size of the swells, and the current they generate under the water. To be in a pool with undertow was way cool. Their lazy river was very nice,too. I spent a good hour circling in that and really liked the waterfall beating down on my back -- best massage I've had in a bit. We took the kids to the Vegas Hofbrau for dinner, where we all enjoyed participating in German drinking songs, the beer was actually drinkable, and I sang,"Du, Du liegt mir im Herzen..." to Genny over and over again, at her request. I'm embarrassed a little because I only know the first words to "Ach du lieber, Augustine." For some reason, the other song is burned into my brain. Oh, the things I did in college!
Day 3: We had been planning to go to Hoover Dam and I just simply hadn't been feeling very well. We drove around Vegas a bit. Genny had had a pee accident on the first day and we really were looking for a means of laundering her clothes,which we never did, but we drove around a bit looking. We stopped at Walmart to get stuff we didn't have, we stopped at a market to pick up snacks and stuff. We did make reservations at Excalibur to do the dinner theater thing -- dinner without utensils while watching faux jousting and swordplay. The kids LOVED the thing. I was having to stick pieces of food into Genny's mouth throughout because she was sitting there slackjawed enthralled with the whole thing. She made it through some of the food and just loved the whole thing. Both kids did.
Afterwards, we had to do the whole arcade thing there which ended up being a lot of fun. The kids and I ended up with Norse helmets. Mine and Russell's had enormous horns on each side and Genny had more of the cute little norse girl helmet. We walked through a couple casinos while people smirked and pointed. It was an awful lot of fun. Somewhere in the process, Russell broke one of the horns off, so he was running around with the one horn on the front exclaiming,"I'm a rhinocerous! Here me roar! ROAR!" I was smiling from ear to ear. That's my boy! Several drunken fratboy types found it hilarious at NY, NY. We went there because the kids really wanted to ride the rollercoaster, but when Genny was too short to ride it, Russell said he'd wait a year til she was taller. I was so proud of him! We did some of the arcade there and I stopped at an oxygen bar for 20 minutes and got a shoulder massage. We dragged home about midnight and all dropped into bed, wiped.
Day 4: Our last official day there, I decided I was claiming my birthday present. I made an appointment at the spa for a full hour massage. They asked me if I minded a man and I said no. My shoulders are so tight that it requires strong hands to beat them into shape. I had hurt the whole trip, I think from the elevation drop of 3000 feet and I couldn't wait for the massage. I went down to the spa, bubbled away in the non-chlorinated hot tub and thought of nothing at all. I sat in the lounge afterwards sipping water with cucumber slices until I was called by Dave the masseuse.
If Dave had not made it clear that I reminded him of his Mom and the fact that he was all of 25, I would have been happier, but it was okay. I think it made it sexually safe for him. I'm not old enough to be his mother, though at the time, I felt old enough to be his grandmother. However, Dave had strong hands. Dave could find the knots and talk them out of their tangles. When I walked out of Dave's room of bliss, I had tipped him a LOT. More specifically, when I walked out of there, I could walk.
When I got back, the natives were restless and we had lunch at the House of Blues. It was good chow and then we walked what seemed an eternity to go visit the shark reef. By this time, Dave's handiwork was starting to fall apart because my back was starting to ache. The shark reef was a lot of fun and very interesting. I have to say I liked the tank of jellyfish. It was a cylindrical tank with reduced lighting and the jellyfish were kind of pulsing and glowing a little ultraviolet and it was way cool. We also enjoyed watching the critters get fed in the tidal pool tank, where you could manhandle things if you wanted, though during feeding we were instructed NOT to put our hands in the tank.
Speaking of hands in the tank -- what kind of sickos have an open pirahna tank, cordoned off only by those brass and velvet bank/airport thingies? I'm just asking here.
The kids were tired and begged to go swimming with me. Mike, however, had turned into the vacation nazi and insisted that we had to "do the Strip." Of all the shit I'd like to do with kids, "The Strip" was not on the list. We started down, found the M&M store and then ate at the Monte Carlo. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable, so handed Mike $20, told him to take the kids to the arcade, while I played on a machine until I felt better. He smirked and left.
When the money ran out, the kids were tired and begging to leave, and we were all so freaking tired that we figured we'd get a cab. Yeah...a cab on Friday night in Vegas. What the hell were we thinking? Then Mike swore he knew the way and proceeded to get us lost through the back streets of Vegas trying to get to our freaking hotel. It was awful. The kids and I whined at him and bitched him out the whole way, which of course, he returned in kind.
It took us a full hour to get what would have been a block or so. When you're tired, it really sucks ass.
We finally got back to the hotel and then we had to pack up all the crap because we had to leave to get to the airport in the morning. Big. Freakin. Fun.
I ended up doing most of it and that pissed me off no end.
Oh, well.
Day 5: We drove all over the place trying to find breakfast and then KISMET! We found a bagel place right next door to Starbucks. I was saved! I snarfed my latte while eating a toasted garlic bagel. Then we dropped off the car and flew home.
Coming home to the newly slated front entry way and all of my beautiful newly installed windows, glistening in bright newness was fantabulous.
So that's my trip.
Day 1: We left for the airport and got halfway there and realized Genny forgot her glasses. We called the window guy and asked if he'd fed ex them to us. We went to the Luxor and went on one of those sit in the seat that jiggle and have the theater move around you things. It was fun, but I'm not sure it was worth the $40 for all of us to do it. We also stopped at little shops and stuff along the way from the Mandalay way. I found a dress that would fit Genny for $158 dollars -- it was a denim jumper that was very cute, but I could buy a lot more jumpers at Walmart for that amount of money. Nonetheless, Genny doesn't own that jumper.
We ate at a fancy hamburger place. They had a hamburger that ran $60 that had goose liver pate and truffles among other things. Our burgers were more along the $8- 10 range, but they were really good. Expensive, but good. For dinner, we were tired, so we ordered Domino's pizza, a salad, and a couple liters of soda, watched "Batman Begins" in the room. Genny fell asleep in Mike's arms -- way cute.
Day 2: We went to the Vegas Outlet. I found a lot of good deals and bought Bear a pair of swim trunks, so we could swim at the Mandalay Bay Pool. Gosh, their pool is amazing. Their wave pool, isn't one of those wimpy wave pools, it really seems more ocean-like I think because of the size of the swells, and the current they generate under the water. To be in a pool with undertow was way cool. Their lazy river was very nice,too. I spent a good hour circling in that and really liked the waterfall beating down on my back -- best massage I've had in a bit. We took the kids to the Vegas Hofbrau for dinner, where we all enjoyed participating in German drinking songs, the beer was actually drinkable, and I sang,"Du, Du liegt mir im Herzen..." to Genny over and over again, at her request. I'm embarrassed a little because I only know the first words to "Ach du lieber, Augustine." For some reason, the other song is burned into my brain. Oh, the things I did in college!
Day 3: We had been planning to go to Hoover Dam and I just simply hadn't been feeling very well. We drove around Vegas a bit. Genny had had a pee accident on the first day and we really were looking for a means of laundering her clothes,which we never did, but we drove around a bit looking. We stopped at Walmart to get stuff we didn't have, we stopped at a market to pick up snacks and stuff. We did make reservations at Excalibur to do the dinner theater thing -- dinner without utensils while watching faux jousting and swordplay. The kids LOVED the thing. I was having to stick pieces of food into Genny's mouth throughout because she was sitting there slackjawed enthralled with the whole thing. She made it through some of the food and just loved the whole thing. Both kids did.
Afterwards, we had to do the whole arcade thing there which ended up being a lot of fun. The kids and I ended up with Norse helmets. Mine and Russell's had enormous horns on each side and Genny had more of the cute little norse girl helmet. We walked through a couple casinos while people smirked and pointed. It was an awful lot of fun. Somewhere in the process, Russell broke one of the horns off, so he was running around with the one horn on the front exclaiming,"I'm a rhinocerous! Here me roar! ROAR!" I was smiling from ear to ear. That's my boy! Several drunken fratboy types found it hilarious at NY, NY. We went there because the kids really wanted to ride the rollercoaster, but when Genny was too short to ride it, Russell said he'd wait a year til she was taller. I was so proud of him! We did some of the arcade there and I stopped at an oxygen bar for 20 minutes and got a shoulder massage. We dragged home about midnight and all dropped into bed, wiped.
Day 4: Our last official day there, I decided I was claiming my birthday present. I made an appointment at the spa for a full hour massage. They asked me if I minded a man and I said no. My shoulders are so tight that it requires strong hands to beat them into shape. I had hurt the whole trip, I think from the elevation drop of 3000 feet and I couldn't wait for the massage. I went down to the spa, bubbled away in the non-chlorinated hot tub and thought of nothing at all. I sat in the lounge afterwards sipping water with cucumber slices until I was called by Dave the masseuse.
If Dave had not made it clear that I reminded him of his Mom and the fact that he was all of 25, I would have been happier, but it was okay. I think it made it sexually safe for him. I'm not old enough to be his mother, though at the time, I felt old enough to be his grandmother. However, Dave had strong hands. Dave could find the knots and talk them out of their tangles. When I walked out of Dave's room of bliss, I had tipped him a LOT. More specifically, when I walked out of there, I could walk.
When I got back, the natives were restless and we had lunch at the House of Blues. It was good chow and then we walked what seemed an eternity to go visit the shark reef. By this time, Dave's handiwork was starting to fall apart because my back was starting to ache. The shark reef was a lot of fun and very interesting. I have to say I liked the tank of jellyfish. It was a cylindrical tank with reduced lighting and the jellyfish were kind of pulsing and glowing a little ultraviolet and it was way cool. We also enjoyed watching the critters get fed in the tidal pool tank, where you could manhandle things if you wanted, though during feeding we were instructed NOT to put our hands in the tank.
Speaking of hands in the tank -- what kind of sickos have an open pirahna tank, cordoned off only by those brass and velvet bank/airport thingies? I'm just asking here.
The kids were tired and begged to go swimming with me. Mike, however, had turned into the vacation nazi and insisted that we had to "do the Strip." Of all the shit I'd like to do with kids, "The Strip" was not on the list. We started down, found the M&M store and then ate at the Monte Carlo. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable, so handed Mike $20, told him to take the kids to the arcade, while I played on a machine until I felt better. He smirked and left.
When the money ran out, the kids were tired and begging to leave, and we were all so freaking tired that we figured we'd get a cab. Yeah...a cab on Friday night in Vegas. What the hell were we thinking? Then Mike swore he knew the way and proceeded to get us lost through the back streets of Vegas trying to get to our freaking hotel. It was awful. The kids and I whined at him and bitched him out the whole way, which of course, he returned in kind.
It took us a full hour to get what would have been a block or so. When you're tired, it really sucks ass.
We finally got back to the hotel and then we had to pack up all the crap because we had to leave to get to the airport in the morning. Big. Freakin. Fun.
I ended up doing most of it and that pissed me off no end.
Oh, well.
Day 5: We drove all over the place trying to find breakfast and then KISMET! We found a bagel place right next door to Starbucks. I was saved! I snarfed my latte while eating a toasted garlic bagel. Then we dropped off the car and flew home.
Coming home to the newly slated front entry way and all of my beautiful newly installed windows, glistening in bright newness was fantabulous.
So that's my trip.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
I know I don't talk much sometimes about Russell's cerebral palsy, but this week, he had a breathrough. Hell, we both did.
He decided that he was going to go out for Cross-country, i.e., track and I encouraged the snot out of him to do it. One day, I had picked him up and he had been doing wind sprints and thrown up. I worked hard not to make it a big deal. I told him I was sorry he got sick, had him change his clothes, and go brush his teeth. I never told him he should bail from track or that it's a shame he's so out of shape or anything. I told him how proud I am of him for keeping on keeping on.
The thing with kids with cerebral palsy is that they have a really hard time with endurance. Russell is the kid who gets tired at the mall long before anyone else is. Russell is the one who gets out of breath walking around the block. Russell is the one who could not walk half a mile from the bus to get home without collapsing in exhaustion. Russell is the one at free swim who will come out and sit for a while because he gets tired easily.
So this past week, he had his first track meet. I went and was the quintessential sport mom -- I brought fruit, juice, cups, and snacks. His teacher asked me if I wanted to tell him anything -- I said,"If he finishes, I'll buy him dinner."
As I watched him make his way around the marina, where they were running, I saw him alternately walking and running. As he came towards the finish, he absolutely looked like he was going to puke his guts out. And I ran up to him, jogging next to him, I said, "Come on! Beat your old fat mom! I know you can." And he dusted me and as I looked up, probably a dozen kids from him team ran with him to the finish line.
He was the last kid on his team -- not the last kid in the race -- a few others trickled up behind him, but obviously, a wild favorite amongst his teammates and friends. I felt singularly unneeded in some ways and wildly proud of him for having such devoted friends and teammates. And of course, amazed and proud of him for finishing the race.
He decided that he was going to go out for Cross-country, i.e., track and I encouraged the snot out of him to do it. One day, I had picked him up and he had been doing wind sprints and thrown up. I worked hard not to make it a big deal. I told him I was sorry he got sick, had him change his clothes, and go brush his teeth. I never told him he should bail from track or that it's a shame he's so out of shape or anything. I told him how proud I am of him for keeping on keeping on.
The thing with kids with cerebral palsy is that they have a really hard time with endurance. Russell is the kid who gets tired at the mall long before anyone else is. Russell is the one who gets out of breath walking around the block. Russell is the one who could not walk half a mile from the bus to get home without collapsing in exhaustion. Russell is the one at free swim who will come out and sit for a while because he gets tired easily.
So this past week, he had his first track meet. I went and was the quintessential sport mom -- I brought fruit, juice, cups, and snacks. His teacher asked me if I wanted to tell him anything -- I said,"If he finishes, I'll buy him dinner."
As I watched him make his way around the marina, where they were running, I saw him alternately walking and running. As he came towards the finish, he absolutely looked like he was going to puke his guts out. And I ran up to him, jogging next to him, I said, "Come on! Beat your old fat mom! I know you can." And he dusted me and as I looked up, probably a dozen kids from him team ran with him to the finish line.
He was the last kid on his team -- not the last kid in the race -- a few others trickled up behind him, but obviously, a wild favorite amongst his teammates and friends. I felt singularly unneeded in some ways and wildly proud of him for having such devoted friends and teammates. And of course, amazed and proud of him for finishing the race.
It's kind of scary to be able to do this stuff...
I found a friend I haven't spoken to in years and it helped to know a little about him, but I was able to find him at his new job in San Francisco.
I creep myself out sometimes. Just for kicks, I ran a search to see if I was that easy to find when googled. You can find where I was 5 years ago, but not now.
Weird.
I found a friend I haven't spoken to in years and it helped to know a little about him, but I was able to find him at his new job in San Francisco.
I creep myself out sometimes. Just for kicks, I ran a search to see if I was that easy to find when googled. You can find where I was 5 years ago, but not now.
Weird.
I swear I have half a recounting of the trip to Vegas done, but I've got a pretty bad cold and I'm trying to get kids' bedroom furniture stained, while simultaneously forcing them to clean said bedrooms. I also felt that while I was riding their asses, I needed to clean my room as a means of setting an example.
I also found myself sound asleep for three hours this afternoon. Mike had the audacity to wake me up because I was snoring. Annoyed, I glared at him and said I was snoring because I'm congested and that it'd be nice if he got me a vaporizer.
Apparently, he plugged it above my head. When I woke up and started to sit up, the bedding pulled on the cord enough to send a thick hard cover book to smack me just to the side of my nose. It hurt like hell and I was angry about being told that I had to get up because he'd been too lazy to do dishes and he wasn't cooking and that we had to go to the big town to eat something. I was doubly mad because I was tired and pissy and all I wanted was to have someone make me some crappy canned soup and a cup of hot tea and roll back over and go to sleep.
I burst into tears and then cussed him out from the bathroom. No, I'm not nice when I'm sick.
Then we hauled up to town and ate at a Chinese buffet where I had a cup of soup, some rice, vegetables, and a little chicken. Genny had selected shrimp that had to be shelled and deveined, so I actually spent the first half of my meal shelling and deveining shrimp for her.
Then, we hit the pharmacy, so I could get antibiotics. Tomorrow, is one of Russell's dearest friends' birthday parties, so we went to Barnes and Noble and we selected a book that we thought he would like. Then I went and was sorting through music bins and I rediscovered Manhattan Transfer. I used to have all of their tapes and some of their vinyl. For some reason, they had slipped my mind. So I bought a compilation of their work that has everything I like, "Operator," "Java Jive," "Twilight," and of course, "Boy from New York City." It's got a lot of doo wop, which kind of horrifies me now, but I kind of gasp my way through that to get to the good stuff.
I also can't find my second Etta James, "The Right Stuff" album, so I got a third. I swear I need stock or something.
Afterwards, I got a pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks and ordered stuff for the kids. It's bad when your kids know words like "frappucino." Fourbucks, as Mike refers to the company, becomes Twelvebucks.
Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say, I'll get to finishing the recount of the Vegas trip when I'm done dripping snot and feeling like crap.
I also found myself sound asleep for three hours this afternoon. Mike had the audacity to wake me up because I was snoring. Annoyed, I glared at him and said I was snoring because I'm congested and that it'd be nice if he got me a vaporizer.
Apparently, he plugged it above my head. When I woke up and started to sit up, the bedding pulled on the cord enough to send a thick hard cover book to smack me just to the side of my nose. It hurt like hell and I was angry about being told that I had to get up because he'd been too lazy to do dishes and he wasn't cooking and that we had to go to the big town to eat something. I was doubly mad because I was tired and pissy and all I wanted was to have someone make me some crappy canned soup and a cup of hot tea and roll back over and go to sleep.
I burst into tears and then cussed him out from the bathroom. No, I'm not nice when I'm sick.
Then we hauled up to town and ate at a Chinese buffet where I had a cup of soup, some rice, vegetables, and a little chicken. Genny had selected shrimp that had to be shelled and deveined, so I actually spent the first half of my meal shelling and deveining shrimp for her.
Then, we hit the pharmacy, so I could get antibiotics. Tomorrow, is one of Russell's dearest friends' birthday parties, so we went to Barnes and Noble and we selected a book that we thought he would like. Then I went and was sorting through music bins and I rediscovered Manhattan Transfer. I used to have all of their tapes and some of their vinyl. For some reason, they had slipped my mind. So I bought a compilation of their work that has everything I like, "Operator," "Java Jive," "Twilight," and of course, "Boy from New York City." It's got a lot of doo wop, which kind of horrifies me now, but I kind of gasp my way through that to get to the good stuff.
I also can't find my second Etta James, "The Right Stuff" album, so I got a third. I swear I need stock or something.
Afterwards, I got a pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks and ordered stuff for the kids. It's bad when your kids know words like "frappucino." Fourbucks, as Mike refers to the company, becomes Twelvebucks.
Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say, I'll get to finishing the recount of the Vegas trip when I'm done dripping snot and feeling like crap.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Dinnertime
Crunching under waffle soles, the gravel slithers towards ravines below.
The organza ribbon of trail shimmers ahead in the heat, pretty and treacherous as a woman scorned.
A rain stick sound from under a sagebrush warns unwary feet away from a small rattler.
The boot connects with a large loose rock to distract the snake and a small wood scorpion unfolds its body with its tail arched above its back in the fresh earth.
At the incongruous gazebo on the hill, there's a sunset across the lake just starting.
Prickly poppies line the way, guard rails of the desert, and a jack rabbit explodes across the trail like its feet are on fire.
The hollow sound of feet pounding on wood over air disappears into a solar showdown where the watercolor artist streaks the lake and sky into flaming pastels.
In the gray of dusk, boots noisily clamber along the trail startling critters back to their hiding places.
Then the sound of a truck engine and tires backing over gravel slip into the navy blue sleeve of evening.
Crunching under waffle soles, the gravel slithers towards ravines below.
The organza ribbon of trail shimmers ahead in the heat, pretty and treacherous as a woman scorned.
A rain stick sound from under a sagebrush warns unwary feet away from a small rattler.
The boot connects with a large loose rock to distract the snake and a small wood scorpion unfolds its body with its tail arched above its back in the fresh earth.
At the incongruous gazebo on the hill, there's a sunset across the lake just starting.
Prickly poppies line the way, guard rails of the desert, and a jack rabbit explodes across the trail like its feet are on fire.
The hollow sound of feet pounding on wood over air disappears into a solar showdown where the watercolor artist streaks the lake and sky into flaming pastels.
In the gray of dusk, boots noisily clamber along the trail startling critters back to their hiding places.
Then the sound of a truck engine and tires backing over gravel slip into the navy blue sleeve of evening.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
A goofy Meme thing...
| The Keys to Your Heart |
 You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored. You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered. |
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Vegas was vegas. I guess I am unimpressed by it, still. I keep waiting for what is cool about Vegas, and I keep thinking that maybe I need to be young, single, and thin for it to matter to me. And mind you, there's lots of cool stuff there to do and we did some of it, but I don't entirely get the now and happening thing of Vegas that you hear about.
Mostly, I enjoyed spending time with my husband and kids -- our own little family cocoon. I'll recount it all tomorrow because tonight, I'm tired and I want to curl up in front of cartoons wrapped around a giggling kid.
Mostly, I enjoyed spending time with my husband and kids -- our own little family cocoon. I'll recount it all tomorrow because tonight, I'm tired and I want to curl up in front of cartoons wrapped around a giggling kid.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Today is my 42nd birthday.
I got my token present from Mike on Friday -- it's a molcajete (MOL - ka - Het -ay) which is a Mexican stone mortar and pestel. I ground up my chipotle peppers for my salsa with it and I like it a lot. Mike spent good chunks of yesterday "seasoning" it, which certainly has shades of "OH, my gosh, he did what?" However, it involved grinding rice and rock salt in it.
On the eve of my birthday...I had a weird set of dreams last night -- mostly, I think of the "here's your life" variety. I think as my brain I was reviewing my life, I was looking at things with my grown up eyes, and not my late teen/early 20's viewpoint. One thing that bothered me a lot is that I have had this recurring dream where someone was writing a book about me -- mostly to criticize my life -- and I am hearing rumors about it. Last night, the dream went further and I was taking a class and someone I didn't know had apparently dropped the book off in the back of the class and asked for it to be passed forward to where I was sitting, but I didn't know that, until I got it passed to me. And I cracked it curiously, and I saw a page that said,"Yeah, and she puts on make up in the car when she's driving, endangering us all!" It had a crayon-drawn picture of a woman putting on mascara. Of course, if you know me, I don't wear makeup, so that was kind of weird, but I used to do that a long time ago, when I was a wild thing. That led me to a whole other train of thought -- also disturbing
After thinking about it a long time, I woke Mike up and talked about it with him.
Mostly, I came to realize everything that I've gone through in my life has brought me to here to this life with this set of wonderful blessings -- a husband who loves me no matter what and is absolutely my best friend, my precious children, my beautiful house, and the joy of being able to garden in my own patch.
I know that a lot of people are having 9-11 memorials today. I am not memorializing the the thoughtless, amoral person I once was nor the thoughtless, immoral people who blew up the WTC. I have God, my family, and a good life. I am celebrating the birth of this new person I became about the time Bear was born.
I'm not a victim any more, thus, I will not memorialize victimization on my birthday, but discovery, joy, birth, and love, because without those, we all die.
I got my token present from Mike on Friday -- it's a molcajete (MOL - ka - Het -ay) which is a Mexican stone mortar and pestel. I ground up my chipotle peppers for my salsa with it and I like it a lot. Mike spent good chunks of yesterday "seasoning" it, which certainly has shades of "OH, my gosh, he did what?" However, it involved grinding rice and rock salt in it.
On the eve of my birthday...I had a weird set of dreams last night -- mostly, I think of the "here's your life" variety. I think as my brain I was reviewing my life, I was looking at things with my grown up eyes, and not my late teen/early 20's viewpoint. One thing that bothered me a lot is that I have had this recurring dream where someone was writing a book about me -- mostly to criticize my life -- and I am hearing rumors about it. Last night, the dream went further and I was taking a class and someone I didn't know had apparently dropped the book off in the back of the class and asked for it to be passed forward to where I was sitting, but I didn't know that, until I got it passed to me. And I cracked it curiously, and I saw a page that said,"Yeah, and she puts on make up in the car when she's driving, endangering us all!" It had a crayon-drawn picture of a woman putting on mascara. Of course, if you know me, I don't wear makeup, so that was kind of weird, but I used to do that a long time ago, when I was a wild thing. That led me to a whole other train of thought -- also disturbing
After thinking about it a long time, I woke Mike up and talked about it with him.
Mostly, I came to realize everything that I've gone through in my life has brought me to here to this life with this set of wonderful blessings -- a husband who loves me no matter what and is absolutely my best friend, my precious children, my beautiful house, and the joy of being able to garden in my own patch.
I know that a lot of people are having 9-11 memorials today. I am not memorializing the the thoughtless, amoral person I once was nor the thoughtless, immoral people who blew up the WTC. I have God, my family, and a good life. I am celebrating the birth of this new person I became about the time Bear was born.
I'm not a victim any more, thus, I will not memorialize victimization on my birthday, but discovery, joy, birth, and love, because without those, we all die.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
I'm starting to feel like crud again. I know the doctor said I might feel worse before I get better, but I'm really feeling like something the cat dragged in and puked up on the rug.
I'm seriously thinking about dicking around with my thyroid meds because I feel like shit. I'm tired and the weight I lost is coming back and without good cause. It's pretty damned depressing.
Oh, and I don't seem to have kicked the bladder infection, which just makes me cranky. *sigh*
I'm seriously thinking about dicking around with my thyroid meds because I feel like shit. I'm tired and the weight I lost is coming back and without good cause. It's pretty damned depressing.
Oh, and I don't seem to have kicked the bladder infection, which just makes me cranky. *sigh*
Monday, September 05, 2005
Okay, you might be living with rednecks if...
...when you go to a country fair and people periodically fill the air with,"Yahooooooo!" and "Yeehaw!" as they watch a Hawaiian dance exhibition.
...said country fair is a Cantaloupe festival.
...there's a quilt raffle at the country fair.
...the hippie tie dye tent in the vendors' section is on the far side of the fair in the back.
...vendor stalls include one that sells Halloween signs that say,"Here he lies dead and hard, that last damned dog who crapped in my yard."
...a few people stare when you have the gall to put on sunscreen.
...one of the big events is the "little cowboy and little cowgirl" competition and some of the ugliest gussied up kids you ever saw line up in stetsons, spurs, bolos, bandana prints, and denim, with their bucktoothed and toothless parents prodding them onto stage.
...cantaloups are spelled "cantaloupes" because well, now, that's fancy. (What's worse, I thought it was spelled cantalope and I'm a good speller and the owner of an apparently quite useless English degree)
...when you go to a country fair and people periodically fill the air with,"Yahooooooo!" and "Yeehaw!" as they watch a Hawaiian dance exhibition.
...said country fair is a Cantaloupe festival.
...there's a quilt raffle at the country fair.
...the hippie tie dye tent in the vendors' section is on the far side of the fair in the back.
...vendor stalls include one that sells Halloween signs that say,"Here he lies dead and hard, that last damned dog who crapped in my yard."
...a few people stare when you have the gall to put on sunscreen.
...one of the big events is the "little cowboy and little cowgirl" competition and some of the ugliest gussied up kids you ever saw line up in stetsons, spurs, bolos, bandana prints, and denim, with their bucktoothed and toothless parents prodding them onto stage.
...cantaloups are spelled "cantaloupes" because well, now, that's fancy. (What's worse, I thought it was spelled cantalope and I'm a good speller and the owner of an apparently quite useless English degree)
Sunday, September 04, 2005
I'm so tired.
I got the livingroom and kitchen so they didn't look like such horrible pits. I still have more to go, but at least that's progress.
This week, Genny finally got signed up for Kindergarten. We went out to Mervyns and had her select her backpack, which is on wheels and pink, naturally. Genny is a princess, so she had to have the fancy stuff. Russell gladly takes the cheap no frills backpack, though this year, with the extra books, I got him a nice ergonomic backpack that we could fit to his body from Lands' End. I saw it and immediately thought of him.
We watched various DVDs from Elvis' comeback special (1968). Sarah and I decided that Elvis must be hot in black leather, but that he was not only the owner of the hottest ass, but he also was apparently hung like a horse, and that he had the most gorgeous *comefuckme* eyes we've ever seen. We were yelling things like "Come on, baby, take OFF the fucking jacket. You're hot and we'll hold it for you!" Elvis borrowed hankies from various adoring groupies in the special to wipe is hubbahubbadingdong eyebrow. I think the coolest thing in this DVD was the tribute to gospel and rhythm and blues he did --awesome modern dance and great music.
LaDawn blew me off. She says she didn't, but she did. I knew she didn't want to see Elvis anyhow, but I made ribs just for her and I bought strawberry daiquiri makings and perfected the art of strawberry daiquiris just for her. She claims she'll come around today, but we'll see.
I figure anyone who doesn't like Elvis is crazed anyhow. Harumph. However, she is one week behind me on periods (because I was a week early), so she's got horrendous PMS, so I'm not nearly as upset about it as Sarah is.
In the middle of daiquiris though, Leann called upset because she wanted someone to bring her her kids. I explained that I had already had a couple of daiquiris, so I wasn't in any condition to drive, so I need to go visit today and see what I can do for her. I guess she and Brian had a fight, where he refused to bring the kids because he was too busy. I guess I don't understand the kind of busy that involves leaving your hospitalized wife undergoing chemotherapy alone and lonely when she wants to see her children.
I've never liked him much, but I like him less now.
---
I have to go wake up sleepyhead and we need to get going.
I got the livingroom and kitchen so they didn't look like such horrible pits. I still have more to go, but at least that's progress.
This week, Genny finally got signed up for Kindergarten. We went out to Mervyns and had her select her backpack, which is on wheels and pink, naturally. Genny is a princess, so she had to have the fancy stuff. Russell gladly takes the cheap no frills backpack, though this year, with the extra books, I got him a nice ergonomic backpack that we could fit to his body from Lands' End. I saw it and immediately thought of him.
We watched various DVDs from Elvis' comeback special (1968). Sarah and I decided that Elvis must be hot in black leather, but that he was not only the owner of the hottest ass, but he also was apparently hung like a horse, and that he had the most gorgeous *comefuckme* eyes we've ever seen. We were yelling things like "Come on, baby, take OFF the fucking jacket. You're hot and we'll hold it for you!" Elvis borrowed hankies from various adoring groupies in the special to wipe is hubbahubbadingdong eyebrow. I think the coolest thing in this DVD was the tribute to gospel and rhythm and blues he did --awesome modern dance and great music.
LaDawn blew me off. She says she didn't, but she did. I knew she didn't want to see Elvis anyhow, but I made ribs just for her and I bought strawberry daiquiri makings and perfected the art of strawberry daiquiris just for her. She claims she'll come around today, but we'll see.
I figure anyone who doesn't like Elvis is crazed anyhow. Harumph. However, she is one week behind me on periods (because I was a week early), so she's got horrendous PMS, so I'm not nearly as upset about it as Sarah is.
In the middle of daiquiris though, Leann called upset because she wanted someone to bring her her kids. I explained that I had already had a couple of daiquiris, so I wasn't in any condition to drive, so I need to go visit today and see what I can do for her. I guess she and Brian had a fight, where he refused to bring the kids because he was too busy. I guess I don't understand the kind of busy that involves leaving your hospitalized wife undergoing chemotherapy alone and lonely when she wants to see her children.
I've never liked him much, but I like him less now.
---
I have to go wake up sleepyhead and we need to get going.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
I had to drive to California today to get Genny's birth certificate.
I'm so predictable that I'm rather embarrassed. I always stop at the same outlet stores and the same produce market. But, dude, they had tomatillos for $.69 a lb. Do you have any idea how much salsa I can make now? I also bought fresh cilantro, jalapenos, and I've got limes, baby. Mike's now insisting he must have a smoker to do things right, of course.
Heh.
Lord-EE, we're such salsa snobs.
--
I'm so predictable that I'm rather embarrassed. I always stop at the same outlet stores and the same produce market. But, dude, they had tomatillos for $.69 a lb. Do you have any idea how much salsa I can make now? I also bought fresh cilantro, jalapenos, and I've got limes, baby. Mike's now insisting he must have a smoker to do things right, of course.
Heh.
Lord-EE, we're such salsa snobs.
--
- 'sides that...this week Russell turned 12. I'm having a hard time not wanting to overprotect the snot out of him. He's such a good kid and I'm so darned proud of him, and sometimes, he's still just a kid. Such a tweenager.
- My friend, Harsh Betty's birthday is today. She's reaching forward into old fogeydom , as I am. I'm fully expecting to spend my birthday cleaning my house. It's sad and all, but I'm also going to go to Vegas two days after and I've been promised a birthday meal at Excalibur and a day of lounging at the pool. Mike wanted to know what I want for my birthday and I told him a massage. I'm thinking I can get that in Vegas at the hotel.
- Sarah, LaDawn, and I are having an Elvis day on Saturday. LaDawn is bringing the kids over and they'll all play game cube, while we drink strawberry daiquiris, eat popcorn, and watch Blue Hawaii (DROOOOOL! Young Elvis makes me hot!) and the Elvis comeback special. Mind you, the comeback special is at a time in Elvis' live that I don't think he was at hot as in his young beach movies, but I'm humoring Sarah.
- Big Dog has this shirt and when I stopped at the outlet store on the way home, I found a pink sweatshirt with that on it and had.to.have.it.
- I'm so freaking tired, but I'm continuing to lose weight, and I'm not AS tired, so I see that as a good sign.
- I guess what I'm sidetracking about, while I ramble on, is just how soul crushing Hurricane Katrina has become. I can't imagine what it's like and it breaks my heart. We've donated to the red cross and then today, Mike's company announced it would match employee contributions, so I sent them my online receipt. I wish I could empty out my closets, cupboards, and dressers to send everything I have to these people.
I'm embarrassed to live in a country that goes running off to save the rest of the world, but doesn't seem to be able to get it together to save its own. I also feel that there's a sense in which racism is involved -- for the most part, we are seeing poor black people on our TV screens. The TV commentators are saying how many of them couldn't afford to leave because they didn't have the money for a hotel, a tank of gas, or in some cases, even transportation. And darned, if they aren't getting help very fast at all. I'm betting if it were rich white people, everyone would be getting enough food, water, and shelter, and FEMA would have gotten far more help to these people a whole helluva lot faster than they are doing currently.
I've been crying nightly. I just feel so helpless -- like a donation to the Red Cross is just a drop in the bucket compared to the enormity of need. So, if you can spare anything, you should donate to a Hurricane Katrina disaster fund, too. These people need it. You should also be bitching your fool head off at your politicians to get on FEMA's ass and ride 'em like a bronco.
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