Letter #1

Animal Control
Attn: [Facily Manager's Name Redacted]
460 E. North St.
Akron, OH 44304

Dear Ms. Manager:

Enclosed is a copy of a flyer which was posted on my home mailbox earlier this week. Please note that the flyer specifies that all animals come from the Summit County Animal Control Facility and that the new Executive Director is XX. As I’m sure you remember, the only reason cruelty charges were dropped against XX was that her daughter agreed to plead guilty to the charges against her.

The day after I received the flyer, I called your office, but the young man with whom I spoke dismissed my concerns quite casually. I would very much appreciate some reassurance that Summit County will stop allowing Heaven Can Wait to take animals from your facility or that you are monitoring the health and safety of any animals so removed.

Thank you for your anticipated attention to this matter

Very truly yours,

*sigh*

I can't even work up a good mad about this, I just keep starting to cry.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I have been calling the outsourced HR services of my late, unlamented former employer since my last day of work, trying to find out about my COBRA benefits. They kept telling me I couldn't sign up until the first day after my severance ran out, April 1.

So on April 1, I call to sign up, am told that the paperwork will be sent to me, and that the coverage will be retroactive to 4/1.

The paperwork and bill are actually sent on 4/11, and I am billed for approximately 3.5 times the figure I was quoted per month, AND I was billed for two months, April and May.

When I called to ask about this, I was told that the $179/month (not the %57 I was quoted) was correct, and that even were I to give them a credit card number (which I don't have) right this minute, my coverage would not be effective until after outsourced HR received the payment and forwarded it on to the insurance company, who then would add me back to the policy.

So for the crown I may need, I can go ahead and pay the approximately $500 up front and then request reimbursement from the insurance company.

Yes, because we all know how easy that is.

Basically, I have to give Aetna almost $200 of my money for a month in which they are going to do absolutely nothing for me.

An Akron woman was just sentenced to house arrest for animal abuse and neglect. Here is a lovely picture of her mother, Patricia, at her daughter's sentencing.

So tonight, I get home from work, and find a flyer stuffed between the mailbox and the flag. I open it up to fold it neatly and put it into the recycling, and discover that Heaven Can Wait is holding a big party to reopen this Saturday. The flyer invites the reader to adopt one of the dogs or cats rescued from the Summit County Animal Shelter, and to meet the new Executive Director, Patricia Mihaly.

When I came home from water-walking, I left a voice mail for the reporter who wrote the story I linked to, telling him about the reopening and asking if he knew how this "shelter" is getting more animals from the county shelter. Tomorrow, I will look into finding out how to get the papers necessary to qualify as a 501c and seeing if there are sponsors who might not want to have their names associated with an animal abuse case.

Tonight, I shall fantasize about picketing the shelter open house on Saturday, carrying a blown-up version of Patricia's lovely picture.

MS Walk 2010, Columbus

Yesterday morning, I got up at O'Kogi Hundred (4:30 a.m., if you don't know what potters' schedules are like), had one cup of coffee, let the dogs out and in and fed them, got dressed, brushed my teeth, and was ready when Mom pulled in the driveway at 5:30. We stopped in Mansfield for coffee and then made it to my brother's house before 8.

Yesterday was my nephew's birthday, but as he told us, he was not officially ten until 4:50. He still got hugged and got a token present from Mom (since he'd already had his real present in the form of a five-day trip to NYC). I hung on to the card and cash I had for him until after the Walk.

The sun was shining, but it was extremely chilly, mostly because the wind was really strong. This was my first time doing the MS Walk in Columbus, and I don't know if it's always at the Zoo, but because of that, everyone needed to get a ticket and a wristband for admission, even those of us who had registered online ahead of time, like Mom and me. I have to say that I was extremely unimpressed with the lack of organization. At the Akron Walk, if you register ahead of time, you just need to drop any cash or check donations and start walking. There's also a marching band and balloons and t-shirts and beads at Akron. I saw people with beads and shirts, but I didn't get either. :( Columbus just had everyone standing in a giant mob in front of the registration table, out in the coooooold wind for thirty to forty-five minutes. Ugh.

The Zoo was very nice, and we took a lot of pictures with the boys and the metal sculptures of various animals. I also made my brother take one of me with a manatee sculpture, what for comparison. ;) We didn't walk the whole loop of the zoo, but we did stroll around for about an hour, and I got to look closely at sleeping flamingos, which was pretty cool.

When we all agreed that we were done with our walk, we went out for breakfast at a place called Marie's Scrambler (I think). I gave my nephew his card and $25 in cash. I had spent a bit of time looking for a good birthday card for him, but I had no idea that the hoops&yoyo card would be such a big hit. When I told him I was giving him cash because I couldn't find any Prince of Persia Lego stuff, he said, "Any Lego would do, Auntie Jammies." I thought that was pretty sweet of him, but now he can buy what makes him happiest. I also printed the Lego version of him with his black belt on heavy card stock so his mom can frame it and hang it in his room.

After breakfast, the Pickypants family headed in for a family nap before the big party. Mom and I headed home, with a stop at Michael's. I got some pretty cotton yarns that were on sale, and in the car, Mom helped me cast off the hot pink washcloth that I was planning to surprise her with on Mother's Day. Instead, I tucked it into her bag and told her I'd find something else for her. As usual, she told me to save my money, but we all know I'm not good at that. On the way home, she drove, I knitted, and when she dropped me off, I let the dogs out and in, and then collapsed into bed for a good long nap.

Thanks to everyone who sponsored Mom and me. And even though Mom thinks the Akron MS Walk is boring, I prefer an animal-less walk and fewer registration hassles, so next year, I'm going local again!

WTF is wrong with me?

First I burst into tears when I see a big, black-and-white, Shepherd-y mix hanging his head out of a car window and having fun.

Next, I get teary when Jonathan gets auf'd from Project Runway.

Then the conjoined Barbies at water-walking make me furiously angry.

And now, I'm all ticked that Gail Carriger's latest book ends with a freaking cliffhanger. I hate cliffhangers, but I shouldn't be quite this irritated.

So WTF is with all the overemotional reactions lately? It can't be hormones, I don't have hormones anymore.

Aaaargh!

MS Walk 2010

Mom and I are walking together in Columbus this year, along with my brother, sister-in-law and both of my nephews. If you're interested in making a donation, send me an e-mail and I'll send you a link.

A Little Fall of Rain

I've always loved that song and I've almost always loved the sound of rain falling.

Very early Sunday morning, there was a brief shower over Casa de Jammies. I'm not usually the type of person who can wake up and be awake--I need my coffee and some time. However, when I hear what sounds like a dog piddling in my bedroom at three-thirty, I tend to be awake very quickly. Once my adrenaline rush had worn off, it was nice to hear a soft shower through my open bedroom windows. It would have been nicer had I not had to get up at 6:40 for work.

This morning, at 4:54, I heard the same sound, but quickly realized it wasn't raining--Little Miss was piddling on my bed. I jumped up just as she finished, whisked off all the bedding and threw it downstairs, then put her outside for a bit while I started laundry and the coffee. I tried twice between waking up and leaving for the day to get a urine sample from her, but no luck.

This afternoon, I came home, took Little Miss out again and still couldn't get a sample, so I loaded her into the car and headed for the vet's office. I got there early enough for one of the techs to come outside and follow us around to see if we could get a sample that way, but again, no dice. We gave up after ten minutes and headed inside, where the tech showed us to the dog room. Thirty seconds after walking into the room, Little Miss shivered, peed all over the floor and pressed up against me. The tech ran for a pipette, laughed that apparently all we needed to do was scare the pee out of my dog, took the sample to be tested and cleaned up the floor. I chatted with the receptionists as I waited, then Dr. B came in.

We joked a bit as he and the tech hoisted Little Miss to the table, as he had the tech take the dog's back end. He checked her gums and her heartbeat while telling me that she did have a UTI. However, although he found a lot of bacteria in her urine, he did not find a lot of red blood cells, so I caught it early. I gave him credit for teaching me what to look for, and thanked him for fitting my sick pupster into his schedule. He gave her ten days' worth of antibiotics, which means ten days of cream cheese, which will make for a happy puppy, and with any luck, any rain I hear tonight will be more Norah Jones than nightmare.

Entitled or insecure?

If someone asks for advice on a message board, and one of the respondents posts a 500-word patronizing, condescending, polysyllabic bloviation in response, what does it make said bloviator when she then returns to the thread to complain that the original poster hasn't thanked her for her post? Specifically, when said bloviator says she wants back the time she invested?

Disgustingly entitled, or horrendously insecure?

*ponders*

The miracles of modern medicine

To the overaged Barbie dolls at water-walking yesterday:

I'm so impressed that not only do your faces show only subtle signs of plastic surgery, but that you managed to be separated after your conjoined birth. However, now that you have been separated, it is not necessary to always stay together, even when you are in a group exercise class and blocking the progress of people who are there to work out rather than chat.

I see dead people.

Wednesday night at water-walking, I saw Uncle Fester in swim trunks, accompanied by an adorable little girl in a hot pink swimsuit with a tutu attached, and I saw Stonewall Jackson getting into the lap pool.

Tuesday on my walk to file some stuff at court, I saw J.E.B. Stuart by the Health Department, and wanted to point east and tell him to get to Gettysburg before Lee did something stupid.

Yes, it's been a weird week.

Learning to fish is hard!

If you've heard me tell this story before, skip to the next paragraph. My mother is good with an awful lot of things, but she's got at most basic skills with a computer. One time, my dad was trying to get her to branch out, and used the old "Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day/Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime." bit on her. Mom said, "Just shut up and give me the damn fish." It's hilarious both because my mother rarely swears, and also because it's the perfect exasperated response.

The last six weeks, Mom and I have been giving each other fish. She's cast on and cast off my knitting, fixed dropped or extra stitches, told me how to find my gauge, etc. I've been monitoring her new work e-mail, doing attachments and switching identities, etc.

On Friday, before she left for a week in NYC with my dad and my nephew, Mom sent three e-mails with attachments herself. When she was doing the second one, trying to remember the next step without me prompting her, she said, "Learning to fish is hard." If you know my mom, you can hear her saying that. If you don't know her, just imagine a quiet, ladylike voice saying this in a tone of mingled resignation and pouting. She did it, though, sent all three e-mails with coaching but no stepping in for me.

With that in mind, this morning after my two cups of coffee, I watched the long-tail cast on video at Knitting Help about ten times, started my own cast, unraveled, re-watched the video, tried again, rinsed and repeated until I had 60 stitches on #7 needles, and then knitted an inch while I watched last week's episode of The Amazing Race.

It's just a bluegill, but I did it. :)

Around here, spring doesn't spring, it vrooooms.

Yes, the temperatures are getting warmer--it was in the high fifties today.

Yes, the daffodils are growing about an inch a day. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I could just sit and see them actually growing.

Yes, the back yard is the usual swampy mess.

The real sign of spring, though, happened today as I was thinking about taking a nap--the yobs next door got their dirt bikes out and started revving them up and then took them out for a very loud test ride.

Happy Ostara!

Don't eat the cheezy poofs!

Since last Thursday, there has been a big, poofy, bright orange cheese puff of unknown origin in my driveway. From Thursday through Saturday, it looked no different--no sign of decaying, no sign of nibbling by wild critters, nothing. Sunday morning, it had lost some of its bright orange-ness due to the snow we got overnight, but other than that, it's still the exact same piece of preservative-laden, artery-clogging, cheesefood-flavored styrofoam.

Perhaps I should start testing any snack foods I want to eat. If the critters won't touch it, then I shouldn't eat it.

Does anyone other than my mother like DST?

Ick. It's back to getting up in the dark, getting headaches because I haven't slept enough, screwing up my circadian rhythms and just generally having my life messed up because one hundred ten years ago, the practice saved on lighting. Double ick.

To add to my general grumpishness, my nails are all either flaking or broken, I sliced a chunk of skin off my right index finger yesterday, and I still haven't done my taxes. I'd go back to bed, but I haven't changed the sheets.

Hmpf.

This looks familiar...

Dear Dog,

Yes, it comes in 40 pound green and white bags. Yes, it is distributed around the house in big bowls. Yes, it is crumbly and damp and apparently tasty, at least to you. However, it is NOT dog food. This is proven every time you barf it back up.

STOP EATING THE DAMN POTTING SOIL!

Works in Progress

Mine:



Mom's:



It's so easy to tell who the novice is that there's not much point in posting these, but they made me grin.

Oh, and I'm done with my lame-ass square!

I hate knitting

It's hard, I'm bad at it, and while other people are doing lace and intarsia and inventing their own damn patterns, I can't even finish one damn square without screwing it up! Aaaargh!

Plus, my toe is infected, of course, which means that not only am I unable to finish the Goddamn Knitting, I can't take my frustrations out in the pool. I can't walk, because that involves closed-toe shoes, which are verboten unless I am actually outside, so I'm reduced to the icky old exercise bike in the basement.

Bad Mood. Ur doin' it right.

Oh, no, not again!

My right big toe was bothering me over the weekend, and it felt as if the nail was growing back. Yesterday morning, I called Dr. Happy Feet and made an appointment for the first thing today. I got all prettied up for work, assuming that Dr. HF would take a look, tell me if I was wrong or right, and if the latter, have me schedule an appointment for fixing it.

Well! That is not at all what happened. When the doc took a look at my toe (after I explained that the discoloration was nail polish I'd missed cleaning off), he said that yes, the nail was growing back. Instead of having me make an appointment, though, he promptly injected me twice with Novocaine, dug out the bit of nail regrowth, and applied Phenol. I am now home, under orders to stay off my feet and keep the right foot elevated as much as possible, while avoiding shoes and stairs for the rest of the day.

I'm also not allowed to go to the pool until maybe after my follow-up appointment next Monday.

Pfui, pfeet.

Something new

I finally decided to get off my butt and start a second blog for all of my "girly" stuff. I'm calling it Bubbles and Baubles, and I will be using it for all the things that make me squee in an embarrassing fashion.

348!

My natatorium membership renews on March 7--I can't believe I've been water-walking for almost a year. This is the first exercise program I have ever stuck with, and while individual classes haven't been easy, the commitment has been.

When I started, my jogging speed was one step per second. On Wednesday night, I did 340 steps in four minutes or 240 seconds. Today, I did 348 steps during the four-minute jog. I celebrated with ten minutes in the hot tub and a long nap this afternoon. I haven't lost any weight in the last year, but my clothes feel better and clearly, my endurance and speed have improved.

My only regret is that I didn't do this right after my surgery!

He did it!

At 1:30 today, my wonderful nephew, who is not yet 10, became a probationary black belt!

Jammies has a knitting lesson

Ahhh, irony, I am your bitch. At lunchtime, Mom and I talked about Boy Bull Moose from the water fitness classes, who is very sweet. I said that as much as I thought he was a nice person, being near him in either of the water classes was like being at Ground Zero in the Bellagio water fountain show. Then I had to explain what the Bellagio is, what they do with their fountain, and that led to me telling her about the guys at Eepy Bird and the Diet Coke & Mentos Bellagio re-enactment.

Mom has offered several times to teach me to knit, but it wasn't until very recently that I had a reason to want to learn. Today, after we'd both eaten lunch, she brought out two knitting needles and yarn that she had cast on for me, and showed me how to knit. Amid many smartass remarks (all from me, of course) I managed to do about 20 stitches on my own. That took about 15 minutes, and I set the knitting on my lap and took a big swig of my Diet Coke. Unfortunately, it was semi-warm and what I got was almost all bubbles, which went up my nose, down my airway, and back out in a spectacular spit-take and one hell of a coughing jag. I also managed to lose control of my bladder, and since I drink water constantly, I wound up coming home early.

Note to self: sip, don't gulp.

Note to everyone else: it's okay to laugh yourself silly over this. I certainly did. However, hurtful comments will be deleted. I'm a delicate flower, you know.

Updates

The friend who had the stroke is home now, with meds and advice to make sure it doesn't happen again, and what looks to be a pretty complete recovery. Zayrina was right, as she usually is. :) Thank you all for the good thoughts and prayers.

It's Valentine's Day and I'm still single. Usually, I don't regret that too much, but I still get twinges from time to time.

Working for Mom is good, if temporary. No nibbles anywhere since my one phone interview a month ago. *sigh*

The dogs are fine. Little Miss needs her big-girl rabies shot and a dental cleaning, and I need to have another old filling removed and replaced. Ugh. This time, I am asking for Valium, and Dad is going to take me to and from the dentist.

Speaking of Plaid Jammies, Friday was his second cataract surgery, and he did better afterwards this time than he did after the first one. Of course, he also said that the minute they were done he took a Vicodin. Last time, he didn't take anything until he started hurting, and then he spent the weekend in agony. This time, he got ahead of the pain, and wasn't taking anything by the time I saw him last night.

My nephews are still adorable--I got to see them, my brother and my sister-in-law last night. We had a lovely dinner, and I left just in time. There was a poop joke in G-Force as I was leaving. I could have stuck around for the movie, but I had to stop at the store on the way home and get laundry detergent for my oh-so-exciting Valentine's.

And on that note, I'm off to throw some socks in the dryer.

If you pray...

please pray for my kind, talented, generous, crafty, smart, good-smelling, sweet, 36 year-old friend Kate, who had a stroke on Friday. If you don't pray, please send good thoughts. She's doing very well, but there are still lingering effects on her speech, memory and thought-processing, and she still has two blood clots in the left side of her brain.

Thanks.

RIP, chicken inna bikini

Today was a lovely quiet Sunday. I didn't have to go work for Mom (since I'm working for her Monday through Friday now), so I got to potter around the house and do laundry and clean the bathroom and unload and reload the dishwasher.

The sun came out and the yards front and back looked beautiful in their very big snowcoats.

Also beautiful is my nail polish--China Glaze BFF, which is a rich rose holographic color, and was even in one coat and bottle color in two. Then I added a coat of NYX Girls #227, which is clear with opalescent hearts. I think after my shower, my toes will get a very quick two coats of a matte polish, since mattes dry so quickly and it's just too cold to leave my tootsies bare for more than ten minutes!

The doggies spent their quiet day in their usual manner. Littlefoot alternated between sleeping on my bed, emptying the water bowl, and asking for pets. Little Miss went on a search-and-destroy mission when she wasn't hitting me with the Squeaky Toy of Uncanny Noises or asking for pets. When she went outside, she tried to clean the yard by eating all of the snow she could, and inside she ate any snow which came in on her paws or Littlefoot's.

For the first time ever, Little Miss deigned to notice the existence of the chicken inna bikini, which Mallie bought for Bigfoot and Littlefoot two years ago. I wish I had been faster with the camera, because one moment Little Miss was standing in front of the toy box with the chicken hanging from her mouth (photo op!) and the next, she was lying down with a headless chicken between her paws (not a photo op).

So RIP, chicken inna bikini, and if you feel the need to haunt anyone, remember it was Mallie who gave you to the dogs.

"Sometimes you walk out the door and step in six inches of partly cloudy"

That's a quote from veteran Cleveland weatherman, Dick Goddard.

There are probably some very red-faced meteorologists around here, because instead of 2-4 inches last night, we got upwards of a foot! The gal who does my plowing couldn't get to my house in time for me to make the 10 a.m. water-walking class, so I backed the car up and down the driveway a few times (okay, until I got it stuck), then turned it off and shoveled away the hump at the end from the snowplows. My next-door neighbor helped, bless his heart. Fortunately, he didn't come over until after I had the snow shoveled away from the tires, so he didn't realize I didn't stop on purpose.

I made it to the pool a bit after 10, and was in the locker room getting changed when my mom came in. She nodded and said hi and kept walking, then did a double-take and exclamied, "You made it!" I'm still giggling over that. Water-walking was cancelled, but Mom and I did about half an hour of pool exercises on our own.

Afterwards, we went shopping. At TJ Maxx, I got my older niece an adorable dress for her birthday, bought my mom a birdhouse she fell in love with for her birthday, and got started on my nieces' Christmas presents. Then Mom headed home and I went to the craft store, but there was a handwritten sign in the window saying "closed due to now." Since it was 12:30 and in the 30s by then, the sign looked incongruous. I'm sure they closed because only one person made it in, but it was still pretty funny-looking.

I'm not a newt any more...

I got better! Got my Lexapro, got love and reassurance from family and friends, balanced an accounting with Mom today and had a giggle this morning when my new Skindecent conditioner was still partially frozen and I couldn't use it. Clearly, bath products travelling from Saskatoon to NE Ohio via Winnipeg, North Dakota and Minnesota don't have much chance to warm up!

Newsflash: Skindecent saves woman's sanity

Today sucked. I'm out of my antidepressant and for some reason, my Hyphenated Corp. health insurance is suddenly invalid, today was my first day back at Mom's office and I had to do payroll taxes, and the icing on the cake is when I got home and discovered that one of the dogs chewed up at least one of my rubber duckies.

If it hadn't been for my pre-layoff Skindecent order on my front porch, I probably would have totally lost it. As it is, I'm opening it as I listen to the stupid hold music for A(ssholes)E(at your)T(ime and give you)N(othing in return but want)A(ll your money) insurance's so-called "Customer Care" line.

I'm on the verge of tears, as I have been since I left the pharmacy without my Lexapro, but right now, they are more tears of gratitude for the kindness of Marliss, the genius behind Skindecent. Not only did she send samples of the Lush dupes for Sultana and The Olive Branch, she sent me an entire Girlfriend's Stress Relief Kit. Marliss has always provided amazing products and customer service, but this kind of thoughtful detail is truly amazing.

And now, since the insurance person wants the pharmacist to call and the pharmacist is being snarky about not wanting to call, I'm going to go huff bath products and hope that tomorrow is a VAST improvement over today.

Survival

I survived my last day at Hyphenated Corp., despite the fact that one of the attorney editors invited Blondezilla to my goodbye lunch.

Plaid Jammies survived his cataract surgery, and although he is in a lot of pain right now, hopefully all will be well soon.

I will survive job-hunting, as I am going back to work temporarily for Mom while I look.

My neurologist says that I am surviving MS quite nicely, but he wants me to have an MRI before my insurance runs out.

So to sum up:

A really, truly, blissfully happy post

My dear and darling friend Megan just sold two mezzotints and nine pottery pieces to the Kirkland Museum. If you are interested in owning a piece of amazing artwork, check out her Etsy store.

If you just want to drool, here's a pic of my mug stash:




Here is the toad house she made for my birthday two years ago:



I am so thrilled that she is getting some major recognition for her work.

Thank you, Bakerella!

Last weekend, Mom and I broke our brains trying to balance an accounting that is due on January 26th. On Wednesday, Mom called me to tell me she had balanced it, and all that remained was to put it in the proper format and mail it to Portage County. I told her I would go in Thursday night and put all the data from the Excel file on the admin computer into the Word document that matches the court forms (said Word document also on said admin computer). I worked a full day at Hyphenated Corp. and then fought traffic to get to Mom's office. I might also mention that I had spent the entire day fighting an allergy attack of the repeated-sneezing-and-very-itchy-eyes type, and wanted more than anything else to go home and take some Benadrool to MAKE. IT. STOP.

When I got to the office, Mom was still there, but indicated she'd had a truly horrible day. Not only was she having trouble with a bank on behalf of one of her clients, her computer had died earlier in the week, and on Thursday Dad came in to install her new one.

Unfortunately, Mom didn't remember to tell him I would need the admin computer, and he took it home! So I had wasted my time and gas money, and we were no closer to gettting the accounting to the court than we had been when we couldn't balance it. I told Mom I would have Dad e-mail me the files I needed, then fax the completed forms to the office, so she could make copies and send them to the court.

When I hadn't heard from Dad by eight o'clock, I called and Mom said he was taking a nap. At that point, I was still sneezing like crazy, and I told her that I was going to take a bath, some Benadryl, and go to bed, and Dad could e-mail the files tomorrow and she could mail them on Saturday. Then I hung up on her.

After several attempts to get the right files to me, Dad sent the ones I needed, I plugged in the information, printed one copy, faxed one to the office, and called Mom and told her that I'd go in to the office after water-walking Saturday morning to get the copies made and everything in the mail (she had a client meeting at eleven-thirty).

When I woke up Saturday morning, it was early. I was worried enough about the accounting to get dressed, have coffee, let the dogs in and out and go into the office before water-walking rather than after. When I got there, I discovered that Dad had used a new password on Mom's new computer, so I had to call and wake up the scary bear to get it. After that, everything went smoothly, and I headed off to water-walking with a light heart and a filled briefcase. After class, Mom signed everything and headed into the office, and I made it to the post office in plenty of time.

So what does all that have to do with my post title? Well, between working Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday morning, plus the fact that Dad won't have the computer back until Monday, meant that I didn't have to go into Mom's office today.

Wednesday is my last day at Hyphenated Corp. Since I have promised repeatedly that I will bring in crack cookies (Jan Hagels) one last time for my co-workers, I made those today. As with any baking project, the first step is to vacuum the kitchen floor and wipe down all surfaces so there are no inadvertent inclusions of dog hair. I made three batches of Jan Hagels (40 cookies each).

My father adores peanut butter. He puts it on anything that will hold it, including garlic bread and hamburgers. He also likes peanut butter cookies, but he constantly comments than there is never enough taste of peanut butter in the cookies, whether homemade or commercial. While browsing Bakerella, I found a recipe for flourless peanut butter cookies. I made a batch of those, set two aside for Dad, and added the rest into the cookie tins for my co-workers. I didn't dip the cookies in chocolate the way Bakerella did, because I want Dad to evaluate just the cookies. I'm thinking that these would make a very sophisticated version of peanut butter kisses if I use Cemoi Truffes instead of Hershey's Kisses. JammiesFest attendees, prepare to be guinea pigs!

I also trashed my clean kitchen and burned myself, but it was all worth it.

Yay for pasta and the internet

Pasta, because that's all I can eat.

The internet, because that's the only way I can communicate.

The dentist was over two hours of hell this morning, and pain requiring T3 ever since. So instead of boring my few remaining readers and/or grossing people out, I will share adorable doggie pictures!

Littlefoot:




My brother's dog, Ralphie:

Any day that starts with the sledgehammer really isn't good.

Yesterday, I took the day off from Hyphenated Co. Last night, Mom and I went to calling hours for a friend's mother, who just died from pancreatic cancer. Mom has known the family for a very long time--one of the daughters was her student in college, the father was an attorney with an office in the same building as Mom's first office, another daughter is also an area attorney. I never met the dad, because he died quite some time ago, but the attorney/daughter was someone I got to know fairly well in the years I worked for Mom, and came to like and respect very much. I know that Mom will be available for her friend as the months pass, and I will try to do the same.

After the funeral home, Mom and I had dinner at the Olive Garden. We split an appetizer of their new mozzarella fondue, which was wonderful and very rich, and some garden salad, which was a good contrast to the fondue if somewhat lacking in nutrients (really, would it kill them to use something other than iceberg lettuce?). When we parted, I headed to BJ's, where I planned to get gas and then pick up a few groceries.

It snowed all last week, and last night was no exception--it was snowing, the wind was vicious, the cold was intense, and when I got to the gas station, I couldn't get the door over my gas tank open. I had the attendant cancel the pump transaction for me, and came home.

My garage is unheated, so if there was a freezing problem with the gas tank door, it didn't change. I smacked the door several times with a sledgehammer, and when that didn't work, took it to the local auto shop. The owner had me pull up on the latch release inside the car while he pushed on the door, and that got it open. Feeling obligated, I filled up there at $2.90/gallon, then got went to water-walking. Mom and I had a good class, after which I came home, ate lunch, took a bath and had a long nap.

Must clean, shovel and do laundry tomorrow. Ugh.

*kicks 2009 in the balls*

HARD

*thinks*

*does it again*

The year in which I lost my heartdog and my job is over, and I suspect it's just seasonal letdown, but I am feeling apathetic and borderline depressed this weekend, despite a nice Christmas and NYE.

Things have to get better soon.

Beware teh Jammies, Enabler of DOOOOOM

Yes, in addition to luring Otterboyy up the Lush garden path, I've already gotten Mallie hooked on Skindecent, and the holiday season was my excuse for hooking her husband on both Lush and BPAL. If you want to know why I call him the Scarecrow, click the label for "Cast of Characters" and read the first entry. If you'd like to know why I call myself a troll, the short version is that I'm not all that fond of humanity, I like shiny things, and I'd rather live happily here under my bridge than just about anywhere else.

So the package of junk from under the bridge arrived at Casa Clemson on Tuesday, and I got a happy phone call from Mallie and Jay. The kitties would have said thank you if they weren't all nipped out, but the hoomans were still verbal. In addition to assorted Lush goodies (really, what better way to hook a masseur than with not one but two Lush massage bars?), I got Jay a bottle of Troll, which is a gorgeous clove-and-swamp BPAL. Sherri said she can't wait to smell it on him, which is the sentence every enabler wants to hear. ;)

In all fairness, I should warn my victims that it starts off simple, with a Lush product or two. Then, when I've got you hooked on smelling good, I'll lure you in to smooth, soft skin-land with sugar scrubs and it will always end in delicious niche perfumes.

Beware!

Enabling we will go, enabling we will go,

Hi-ho the derry-o, enabling we will go!

This morning, I got an e-mail from a friend, asking for help finding good quality bath products. Said friend, who shall remain nameless, has been using drugstore bubble bath (oh, teh howwow!) and wants something better. I had a very fun hour looking up scent notes and compiling an e-mail full of Lush, Skindecent and Fantasy Bath suggestions.

LOL! Guess who just called from the Lush store in Anaheim? My crazy friend, who has picked out some bubble bars and promised me a report.

Last week I also got to enable a friend to the Morganville vampire series by Rachel Caine. She was my giftee in a BPAL swap, and since she loves to laugh at Twihlight, I got her a necklace from Stardust on Etsy, a Jinx t-shirt, and a vampire book I hope won't make her fall over laughing. I loved reading about her reactions to all of her gifts.

Ahhh, enabling. It's evil, but I love it so...

In which we learn that some people will stop at nothing.

Once upon a time, there was an international toe porn superstar named Spunky Labia. Spunky ruled the toe porn world with an iron foot, and thought she was secure.

Then, along came an upstart to challenge her, the beautiful, young, breathtakingly-pedicured Toesy Kerrigan.

Spunky was jealous, but in denial about her slow slide from superstardom to opening car shows.

On Monday night, as Toesy went to take a picture of her glamorous new coat of glittery green China Glaze Emerald Sparkle, a footstool leapt out from the shadows and bashed her with a thick piece of wood!

Toesy fell to the ground, crying, "Why me? Whyyyyyyyyyyy meeeeeeeeeeeeeee?"

The footstool is being held for questioning, and an unnamed source says that it is related to Spunky's ex-footstool.

Toesy's people released the following photograph, not for the faint of heart:



Clearly, international toe porn is a cutthroat business!

Dear Auntie Mallie and Uncle Jay

Thank you for the donuts. Mom didn't catch me eating them until the first one was half gone and the second one was one-quarter gone, and then she threw them out! Aren't donuts for eating?

Anyway, thanks!

Love,

Little Miss

I need a week to recover from my weekend!

My nephews spent last weekend at my folks' house, and despite not feeling in the least like leaving the house, I managed to spend a fair amount of time with them. Saturday afternoon, Mom, the boys and I went swimming at the Natatorium. While it wasn't empty, it also wasn't so crowded that it was unpleasant. Mom was relieved that there was a swim meet taking place in the pool with the diving boards--she takes most things in stride, but diving makes her nervous, and C (the older of the boys) really wanted to dive. Both boys had a great time on the two-story covered slide, and on the jungle gym which looks like a tree during the swim break.

Saturday night, we had dinner at Stages and then went to see the stage version of A Christmas Story. Dad grumped that the play changed things from the movie, C really liked the play, E seemed engaged but afterwards said "Meh," and Mom and I loved it. Mom was the first to see the big sign announcing that the Cleveland Playhouse would be moving in 2011, and given all of the restoration that has been done to the theaters over the years, we wondered why. I found out today at work it's because the Cleveland Clinic bought the whole shebang. Clearly, health care is still a growth industry!

Sunday morning, I worked at Mom's office and then headed out to Casa de SeniorJammies for breakfast, followed by the decorating of gingerbread houses, an annual tradition for the boys and me. Mom had been saving old candy (including about a dozen starlight mints she and I found under the cushion of one of her client chairs when we were looking for her IOLTA checkbook), and between the old candy, the candy that came with the gingerbread house kits and the marshmallows, both boys created houses that weighed twice as much when they were done as they had when I brought them in. And of course, some of the candy and some of the icing wound up inside the boys rather than on the houses...no wonder they fell asleep ten minutes into the car ride home!

Overall, while I wouldn't have chosen this weekend to spend with anyone, I think I managed to do a pretty good job of setting aside my distress and just enjoying my time with the boys.

In which I reveal myself as an ungrateful and tactless bitch

First of all, thank you all for the support and concern. I'll be okay. Today was a day to wear all black, goof off and mope at work, and eat more comfort food (kibbie!).

I am going to rant just a little bit here, and please, please don't take the following personally.

If you are one of the friends or colleagues or relatives who told me this was a new beginning, it's too freaking early for that. First, I have to mourn the ending and get all the sadness and anger out of my system. See me in a month or so, okay? I love you, but I can't take cheer-up thoughts or messages right now.

If you are one of the people who said, "Call me when you're ready to talk," I love you, but I will not ever be ready to talk about this. It sucks rabid swamp rats, I'm hurt and furious and miserable, but I will get over it. And when I do, I will want to move on with no post-mortems, no discussions. When I suck it up, I suck it all the way up.

If you are one of the people with worse things going on in your life, thank you for taking the time to be here for me and for not telling me it could be worse. Given what a bunch of my friends are going through right now with life, health, and family issues, I know my troubles are small. I am really honestly grateful that you have taken time to offer consolation to me.

Right now, the tactless, ungrateful bitch needs a bath.

Damocles' sword has fallen.

Yesterday, everyone in the Cleveland office received a message about a site meeting taking place today. There was a fair amount of concern that the meeting was to announce the early closing of our office. Our team leader answered those concerns in the meeting with a statement that it was not eight weeks' notice for the site; and there was a fair amount of joking and black humor.

I just felt as if something was wrong. This morning, I wore the same outfit I wore on October 7th, but with pants instead of a skirt. While some people might be superstitious about a "bad luck outfit," even if I had gotten bad news while wearing it, it still makes me feel attractive and confident. Since the outfit is mostly brown with a "pop" of turquoise, last night I did my nails to match--brown on six fingers and both thumbs (China Glaze Unplugged), and turquoise overlaid with glitter on my left ring finger and right index finger (Finger Paints Art Dealer Teal-er and Sinful Colors Nail Junkie).

When I got into work and opened my e-mail, there was a meeting request in my inbox for a 9:15 with the biggest big boss, my department head, the Codes department head, a publishing specialist from Codes and two of our three administrative assistants. I thought it was a mistake--why would the big bosses want to meet with me? So I declined and deleted it.

At 9:16, when I was on the way to the bathroom, my department head came down to get me, and made some empty small talk as we walked upstairs. I knew then what was going to happen, but had no idea why it was going to take all these people.

It turns out I was right--I got my eight weeks' notice today. The reason for the crowd at the meeting was that the two admins and the PS from Codes we all canned along with me. Apparently, closing the Cleveland office was not a big enough cut for Unnamed Corp., and they wanted to cut $10.7 million from the 2010 budget in addition to the savings from closing an entire office. There were 100 cuts throughout the company, and four of them were in Cleveland.

I met with my team leader and then the team met. Let me tell ya, it's not easy being the tip of the iceberg. Everyone was very sweet about saying they were sorry, and then the rest of the meeting was basically questions about "what will happen to the rest of us." These questions were answered to the best of her knowledge by TC (and shortly into the impromptu meeting, Baklavette). Later, one of my teammates said that I was more calm and collected that she will be when it's her turn, and I said that I'm like that in a crisis--at first, I am numb and not feeling things, and then when it sinks in, I'm a wreck. I got hugs from all of the women on our team, and expressions of sympathy and one arm slung around my shoulder from the guys.

Maresche took me out to lunch and I had comfort food (tomato soup and fancy mac & cheese) and then I came home and took the HRbot's suggestion of taking the rest of the day off. When I got home, I had a good cry, spent half an hour of recalling the worst job-related moments in my life, then slept.

I've now notified everyone, whether via phone calls, e-mail, message board and now my blog. I've also done my math, and it looks like I'll get my last severance check on April Fool's Day. Thanks so much, Hyphenated Corp.

Esther Williams, you ain't

To the squat blonde chick in the water-walking class:

Wallowing around like a bull moose on crack and shoving past people does not give you a better workout, it just makes people hate you.

P.S. You have too much back fat for that swimsuit.

To ginger-haired flirty guy:

This is the second time you've followed someone you've chatted with in class to the hot tub, only to not get in it after you rinsed off. Quit being a chicken and follow through! (Oh, and yes, I get it that when the pickings are slim you start chatting me up. You have no idea how non-devastating that is.)

To the otherwise good instructor:

Stop repeating the same exact words at the beginning of the class. You are really starting to irritate me.

To the lady who grabbed my travel cup full of water:

I get that you thought I would collide with you like a bull moose on crack, but trust me, I could see you clinging to the side of the pool and I would have waited for you to pass. As it is, you made me thank you for handing me my cup, instead of screaming "DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF!" which was what I really wanted to do.

To the guy in the swim lanes next to the current pool:

Dude, we can all see you, and we can see that while we're busting our asses jogging and jumping and going forwards and backwards, you are freaking posing each time you do one half of a lap, leaning your arms on the side of the pool as if you've just done a huge amount of work. You haven't. Stop that.

To the cute guy in the kiddie pool with his baby daughter:

Stop being so cute and such a good dad, and especially stop towing your daughter over to watch us and wave at us and make adorable baby noises at us. I'm not sure if you're married or not, but I'm very sure I'm too old to be thinking about whether or not you're married and to be lusting. Stop making me feel like a dirty old woman.

kthxbai

Redshirts

Hey, it was fun.

Fun (and slightly frustrating) game!

The 100 most commonly used words in English.

New swear word

One of the books I did this year was new to me, and it contained a number of references to a case where the defendant was Something Mfrs. Since sometimes I am still twelve, it immediately made me think of a word often spelled with lots of asterisks.

I shared it with several of my colleagues, and we all agreed that "You manufacturer" is a pretty work-safe insult. I will add that to all of the other catchphrases our team has for things that I will miss very much about Hyphenated Co.

Two stupid things

Last Wednesday, I went out to get lunch. As I was leaving the parking lot, Maresche's TC pulled out from the parking space beside me and also headed out. Before I pulled out, I took a minute to make sure I had my wallet with me, and then drove out of the parking lot. At the top of the hill, there was a tan van over to one side with its flashers on. I thought it was M'sTC, and pulled up next to the van, leaning over to roll down my passenger-side window and ask if she needed a hand.

A very odd-looking gentleman glared at me, and I straightened up and drove to Zoup. Whoops.

That evening, Mom and I met for our last water-walking class before she left for Texas. Afterwards, I had to get some stuff out of her car. She told me approximately where she was parked, and that everything was in the back seat on the driver's side. It was dark and rainy when class ended, and I headed for my car, started it up and drove up the aisle I thought Mom was parked in. A woman with light-colored hair and a dark sweatshirt came out of the Natatorium, used a remote to unlock a silver Passat and got in. I pulled up behind the Passat, blocking it in, and put on my hazards and put the car in park. I had actually gotten out of my car and had my hand on the driver's side door when a stranger rolled down the driver's window and said "What...?" I apologized profusely, jumped into my car, and went to rows over, where I actually found my mom. I still feel bad for scaring that poor woman, but what are the odds of doing essentially the same stupid thing twice in one day?

Only me...

Pop culture fail...

I never liked Lucille Ball.

I actively hated Seinfeld.

I never made it all the way through the first Godfather movie, let alone three of them.

The Beatles bore me, ditto The Doors.

I'm not even particularly unique in my tastes, just someone with a number of dislikes.

Pop culture fail. I haz it.

It's over

My third and probably last ginormous third quarter with Hyphenated Co. is done. I worked ten hours yesterday and built three books, and worked eleven hours today and built four books. I had intended to leave work at 4, but the front bits of two of my books weren't done, and Wilson decided to gut and re-build the other two, so I was there until 7. Ugh.

Fish oil is the new snake oil

So far this month, I have heard radio ads claiming that fish oil will:

Repair your joints,

Help you lose weight,

Lower your cholesterol,

Improve your memory and brainpower.

Doesn't keep you from being socially unacceptable, though, especially with fishy burps!

Time-out

Instead of working for Hyphenated Co. this weekend, I spent a big part of Saturday working with Mom on an accounting. Then I cleaned and semi-tidied Casa de Jammies on Sunday morning, and Sunday afternoon, my friend Bun arrived for a too-short visit. She and her very handsome, very dignified, very sweet GSD/Husky/Malamute mix stopped in Ohio on their way from New York to California. SuperDeor and Littlefoot got along quite well for the most part, but Little Miss was a little too in-Deor's-face for him to be really comfortable. He remained sweet and dignified, if a wee bit anxious.

Thanks to a little Momguilt (Oh noes! You'll be alone on Thanksgiving!), I didn't have to cook dinner. Bun and I were invited to a full Thanksgiving dinner at my folks' house, and Mom sent home a barrel of leftovers. I made Jan Hagels, took two to Mom & Dad, sent a few with Bun as travelsnacks, and took the rest to work, where they were eagerly snarfed by my stressed-out co-workers.

Two more days, seven books.

For the first time in 23 years...

I flunked the iron test and couldn't give blood. Two different nurses each did a finger-stick on me and both times my iron was at 11.5 instead of 12 or over. There was a period of time between 2003 when I was diagnosed with MS and told I couldn't donate and 2008 when the American Red Cross said MS'ers could donate blood, but that is the only time I didn't donate. Getting deferred this morning made me sad, and really made me feel guilty when they gave me a t-shirt. On the front was the Cleveland Clinic logo, and on the back in big blue type were the words "I Saved A Life."

Not today, I didn't. :(

A few good things

can make a huge difference.

Yesterday was the most Mondayish Monday I'd had in months. Littlefoot woke me up several times overnight because he had diarrhea, we had computer problems at work, I have an ear or sinus infection that is giving me severe ear, jaw and head pain on the right side, Little Miss did something so gross I can't reconcile it with my cute babygirlpuppy who sits on her haunches and pulls up her paws like a little bunny, I realized I forgot to tell Imp I am not able to get to WV for Turkey Day, I missed water-walking, and it just sucked.

Today, while I was a little hurt that three co-workers I thought were friends deliberately excluded me from lunch, the servers are back up and I was able to burn through all the work I couldn't finish yesterday and still bring some OT stuff home with me. Then, on the drive home, the radio station played three of my favorites in a row--Jesse Cook's "Havana," Keiko Matsui's "Black River" and "A Song for You" by Christina Aguilera and Herbie Hancock, plus I got to hear the traffic report after I was safely out of it. I am going to spoil myself tonight, and re-paint my fingernails, then use an entire Lush French Kiss bubble bar instead of only half, and finally I am going to go to bed early.

Six books, eight volumes, ten days...

Miscellany

1. Only one person at work got my redshirt costume without me having to explain it. Clearly, Hyphenated Corp. is nerd-deficient.

2. On the other hand, Maresche's team was totally awesome in their matching costumes of pink slips, and a few people had to have that one explained to them.

3. I got my first 100% perfect senior editor check today. Now I just have to keep that up for 17 more days.

4. Between now and November 20, our last-day-to-manufacturing deadline, I have nine books/16 volumes to finish and build.

5. Last night at water-walking, I was thinking dire thoughts about whoever was wearing the perfume with a top note of a fleshy white floral and a bottom note of melted plastic when Mom complimented me on the whiff of pretty scent she got when I passed her. Thank you, BPAL.

6. Sometime when I am feeling less lazy, I will get the pics of my Halloween manicure and costume off my camera and post them.

7. It's not my story to tell, and I'm fine, but could anyone with some spare good thoughts aim them at Philadelphia? I'm feeling particularly helpless and clutching at straws.

A Russian and a Spaniard in a coffee shop...

Or at least a Russian song and a Spanish song...

On Friday night, I tripped over a dog and kicked the Kirby and it felt very much as if I had broken a toe. Fortunately, that turned out not to be the case, and it's fine today. Since I wasn't moving around much Friday night, I took some time to do a fun Halloween manicure. I used Color Club Matte White, Nina Ultra Pro Like Butta, Nina Ultra Pro Evening Sunsetand China Glaze Matte Magic.




On Saturday, Mom and Dad and I went to Columbus for the day. We took the Pickypants family out for lunch, since Annabel's birthday is next week. After lunch, my older nephew loaned me a laser gun for my Halloween costume, and the youngest played the piano for Mom, Annabel and me while Dad and Jeeves did computer stuff. A bit before four, we all headed for a local coffee shop, where the boys were taking part in a piano recital. I don't know if this is common everywhere now, or truly as clever as it seemed, but I thought it was a great idea to have the recital somewhere parents could get something caffeinated and maybe a snack. I just wish the coffee had been better. :p However, they did get points for having an adorable resident tiger tabby cat.

Both of my nephews did a great job on their pieces. I have to say that I was very flattered that my younger nephew was insistent that I ride with the boys and my brother instead of Mom and Dad and Annabel. Of course, that might have been because he absolutely adored my candy corn fingernails...

We left not too long after the recital, and I was home by eight, to the relief and joy of Littlefoot and Little Miss. While I am not usually all that crazy about losing an entire weekend day this time of year, it was certainly worth it.

The tomato I can explain. The golf ball is a puzzler.

On Monday, I had a migraine, and spent the day trying not to barf up my codeine. Unsurprisingly, Monday night I had a very odd dream, and woke up at 2:30 Tuesday morning convinced I had missed the deadline for sending Transylvania Practice Series Volume 13 to the Indexing department. When I pulled my car out of the garage at 7:45, I noticed a half-eaten tomato on the garage floor not far from the drain. I parked the car long enough to get out, grab the tomato and chuck it onto the compost heap. I figured it was probably chipmunks trying to get it someplace safe.

Tonight, when I got home and put up the garage door, I thought that the tomato was back. Since Mom and I were water-walking tonight, I turned the car around and left it parked in the driveway, and went to pick up what I thought was a tomato on the garage floor. Oddly enough, it wasn't a tomato, but a green, filthy golf ball. I tossed it in the trash, but I'm still wondering how it got there.

My Halloween costume for work has been chosen and I just need to work out a few details. I will post at least one picture. I'm trying to decide if I'm going to carry out my incredibly cynical idea for a pumpkin, or just take the freebie, extract the pumpkin seeds and compost the rest of it. I still have a week to decide, and I'm sure I'll wait until the last minute.

I am steeling myself to not wait until the last minute to start job-hunting. Getting my resumé updated is on my to-do list for this weekend, and then next weekend I will start sending it out. *sigh*

At least I'm able to exercise again.

That wasn't as bad as I thought

Despite not having worked out for six weeks, I did pretty well with my level of exertion and my endurance at the pool last night. Saturday will be more of a test, since Kay's a bit tougher than Sue. Mom and I had a good time, even if she was cranky and didn't want to be there at the start.

Now I need to figure out what toenail polish I'm going to put on!

"Right now, I'm angry and I need chocolate"

That's what our department manager said on Thursday afternoon when she opened the meeting to discuss Wednesday's bombshell. She talked about the fact that this really has nothing to do with our work and our professionalism, about the stages of grief and how they're not a neat step-by-step process, and was very honest and open with all of us. I need to go change my Cast of Characters page and come up with a better name for her than "Scary Boss Lady," because while she can be intimidating, she's also not at all afraid to be human. All of our management, from individual team leaders to the Cleveland VP, have been with the core company a long time, and are good with their employees in addition to being good at their jobs.

On Thursday, I received e-mails from two of my Rochester colleagues asking how I was taking the news and if I was going to be okay. Both of them are great guys, and I can't put into words how much I appreciate the support.

There have been plenty of screwups this week, including several by me. Colleagues have been indulgent, but I figure that I better get back on my game starting Monday. I plan to work every minute of overtime I can in the next four weeks, and stash as much as possible in my savings account. I'm starting by going in today for four hours, migraine or no migraine. I've told everyone who doesn't read this blog on a regular basis, and asked everyone to keep their ears open. I'm not sure if that does much in this economy, but I did hear about my current job via word of mouth, so there's that.

Oh, and on Friday, I zipped over to Malley's and picked up one of their "Survival Kit"s for the boss. No woman should ever have to plead for chocolate!

History

Warning: strong language ahead.

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009, 11:05 a.m. EDT. Everyone from the Cleveland office who is in today is packed into the lower level conference room. The VP in charge of our site, the two managers, and most of the team coordinators are wearing black. The porky jackass from the news organization that now makes all the decisions is there to speak to us, and he at least doesn't mince words.

"Between June and December 2010, we are closing the Cleveland site."

To paraphrase Churchill, never before have so many been so screwed by so few.

Porky went on to say that our site management would be here to help us and to answer questions. Way to hide behind a bunch of people who haven't done anything to you, jackass.

I believe Gunnery Sgt Hartman has something to say to this guy:

Whirlweekend!

Fun, but exhausting.

My toes are still infected, so no water-walking and ten more days of antibiotics. Friday was truly ugly, weather-wise--cold, pouring rain all day. Mom called me Friday night, and she sounded awful. Dad had brought some ick home from the cruise, and Mom had caught it, and every time she gets a cold it winds up in her vocal cords. Between her cold and my toes, we agreed that if it was raining, we wouldn't go to the big craft fair at Stan Hywet, but we were still going to spend the day shopping and having lunch at Aladdin's.

Saturday morning was clear, cold, and sunny, so Mom picked me up and off we went to the Ohio Mart craft fair. The only difficulty was that the ground was so soaked from Friday's rain that my feet were muddy and filthy and my socks were wet through within twenty minutes. Still, that didn't stop me from getting a whole bunch of wonderful things. Most of them were presents, but a few were for me--I treated myself to a geranium-scented candle and eight pieces of maple sugar candy, which I love but haven't had in about five years. Mom picked up a really cute and different Santa ornament, and helped me pick out presents for my brother and sister-in-law.

When we had done as much damage as possible, we left Stan Hywet. We stopped back at my house so I could wash my feet, re-bandage my toes and put on a clean pair of flip-flops, and then had lunch. I of course had kibbie, and Mom had the vegetarian appetizer platter, and we talked about the cruise we might take next May.

After lunch we hit Gabriel Brothers, where Mom got an adorable skirt for my niece for her birthday, and I got underwear, a skirt, a new bath mat, a lavender candle, socks and other sundries. Then Mom dropped me off at home, where I took a T3 and a nap.

One thing I noticed Saturday night--Littlefoot makes the cutest noises when he sleeps. He's barking in his sleep, but so softly and indistinctly that it's this adorable burbling noise with a slight undertone of yipping. Bigfoot used to do it too, and I've always called it "puppy percolating," because that's what it sounds like. Saturday night, Little Miss Underfoot stuck close to me, and when she'd been deeply asleep beside my chair, she started making her sleep noise. She doesn't percolate, though, she growls. Cute bitty-girl fierceness!

Sunday morning I worked at Mom's office, getting caught up on all of the outstanding checking accounts (balancing checkbooks and updating spreadsheets) and doing two child support calculations as well as double-checking on some court orders. Then I came home, changed the sheets on the bed and started a laundry marathon which is still going on right now. As my friend Rogue once asked, "How does one person create all this laundry?" *grin*

One last purchase for myself--the founder of BPTP, the partner of BPAL, lost his beloved dog a month or so ago. Ted and Beth created a wonderful tribute scent for Pa-Pow, with the proceeds going to the Pasadena Humane Society. If you click here and scroll down to the picture of Pa-Pow, you can read the tribute and perhaps purchase the scent. I had to buy a bottle to express my sympathy for Ted and Beth's loss, to give a little money to a good cause, and hopefully, to smell my Bigfoot in a bottle.

Time for some maintenance

I mentioned that last week, I got to go see The Wizard of Oz in HD on a theater screen, thanks to the generosity of China Glaze and Michelle of All Lacquered Up. Even more generous was the fact that as the drawing winners arrived, Michelle surprised each of us with the Rescue Beauty Lounge polish she inspired--Mismas! If you'd like to see an icky picture of me and a better pic of Michelle and the other winners, here is Michelle's writeup, along with pics of her Dorothy Who manicure.

Meeting all those younguns for the movie reminded me that it's time to do something about what my hairstylist calls my "natural platinum highlights." Pleh. If I had witchy streaks at my temples or a dramatic stripe, I wouldn't bother to color my hair, but since the greys are scattered throughout, all they do is dim the color. As soon as I get a trim, I'm going to cover up all the greys!

I have yet another appointment with the foot doctor on Thursday night. Unfortunately, right now it doesn't look as if this antibiotic is working any better than the previous one. :( I need to get my toes healed so I can go back to water-walking, because I miss it like crazy. Plus, Mom's back in town now, and I know she hates going to class without me. I definitely need to do a bunch of Jammies-maintenance things in the next couple of weeks!

For Captain Crossword and Captain Spaulding and O-boy

Heehee! Miss Jams has a bat in her hair!

That's a direct quote from Maresche, the only co-worker to notice I wore a bat barrette today because I couldn't find a green one. It was a good antidote to the rotten start of my up-and-down day.

Not cool: discovering at 11:30 last night that I was out of coffee.

Cool: having M notice my barrette.

Not cool: having a co-worker verify the stuff I'd just done and discover a lot of mistakes.

Cool: my boss being impressed that I talked to her about it and worked out a strategy for dealing with my memory/concentration problems and our busy time of year. She actually said that she was pleased I came and spoke with her about it instead of hiding from her.

Not cool: wondering how I'm going to put gas in my car and buy dog medicine before I get paid next.

Cool: selling a bottle of BPAL for just about what I paid for it, to someone who will love it more than I ever did.

Not cool: worrying about the health and happiness of several friends.

Cool: actually winning something for once! Michelle at All Lacquered Up had a drawing to see The Wizard of Oz in HD, and I was one of the winners! Yaaaay!

Now to decide what nail polish to wear...

*note to self* I love autumn

Sadly, it seems like I need to remind myself that I do love this season. From chilly, foggy mornings where my long back yard is an artwork in chiaroscuro to the slow burn of trees across the street to the smell of woodsmoke to the Halloween decorations starting to show up, I love fall.

That gets to be difficult to remember when I'm at work on a Saturday morning, doing something that two co-workers managed to tangle up between them to the point where it was an emergency. Fortunately, both Dogmama and Wilson were there, so we all got to vent a little, yak a little, joke a little.

My September calendar has seven book-building days listed on it, four down and three to go, October will be worse and November will be ugly. I'm hoping that the foot doc will let me go back to the pool, because deprived of that outlet, I'm eating more and still not getting rid of my frustrations. At least most of my colleagues have a sense of humor and can show it when they're not being pounded into the ground by the workload, and I get to share surreal e-mails with one guy at one of our other offices--my sanity savers.

Happy fall to my few remaining readers.

NO! You may not sleep there!

Friday morning was rushed but uneventful--I did the grocery shopping, went to the library, changed the sheets, cleaned the bathroom and went to my last water-walking class for a while, then came home, showered and dressed and waited for Dad. He picked me up in time to stop and get my post-op prescriptions, and then dropped me off at the foot doc's and went to get lunch. I told him what the doctor's office had told me, that I should allow 90 minutes for the surgery.

The only painful part of the procedure was the Novocaine injections (in fact, I still have bruises on both toes). The one for the left foot hurt, but I could suck in my breath, clench my fists and get through it. For some reason, the one for my right foot hurt to the point where I yelped and the doctor felt bad for hurting me. I must have more nerves in that toe or something...

While the doctor and nurse did gross things to my feet, I read one of the cheesy romance novels I'd picked up for my weekend reading. I couldn't have seen anything anyway, because they had a screen of sorts up, but I didn't want to risk it. I had deliberately worn BPAL's Love and Pain because it's my sleep blend, and it was making me pleasantly drowsy. *note to self* Buy another bottle with your next order. When Dr. W. was done, the nurse cleaned my feet up a bit and helped me get my flip-flops back on and descend from the chair, then walked me out to the lobby. I looked at the clock, saw that it was 1:20; looked in the parking lot and didn't see Dad, so I called him. He was eating lunch, so I told him to finish, and went back inside with my book.

Dad arrived about 1:40, and it wasn't until he said something that I realized that my appointment was at 1:00, not noon, and they'd finished in 20 minutes! Dad dropped me off at home, and I came in and per the doc's instructions, had two of my T3s immediately, then let the dogs out and back in again.

My intention was to take a short nap in the recliner, so I could keep my feet elevated. Between the lavender perfume and the T3, I was more than ready to crash for a while. I turned my cell on, got a light throw, and settled in the chair. The dogs flopped down beside me, but it must have been clear fairly quickly that I was planning to stay in the recliner and sleep, and Little Miss Underfoot decided that was just not acceptable. She is now used to sleeping with me, cuddled up to the small of my back, and when I didn't get up despite some whimpering, some barking, and some Lassie-style running back and forth, she elected to JUMP onto the reclincer, landing squarely on my stomach.

When I had oofed and shoved her off, she jumped back on, so I gave up, got up, went to the bedroom and laid down on the bed. Little Miss Underfoot sprang onto the bed, turned around three times, and settled down to sleep in her normal spot, pleased that her human pet had finally gotten things right.

I had a nice quiet weekend, doing nothing much, reading drivel and posting snarky reviews on Goodreads. Mom and I did work together on Sunday, and got almost all of the prep done so that the office is ready for her to be gone for eighteen days. My toes are not infected, and I am being a model patient, following all the directions for soaking and drops and bandaging. I don't want to have to go a full six weeks with no water-walking!

And Little Miss is just happy I've learned not to sleep in the recliner.

A long weekend

Toe tormenting tomorrow!

I'm going to get up, run to the post office and the grocery store, do one last water-walking class, get an eye exam and new glasses, then go have my toenails pulled out (okay, partially) and then come home and take any pain meds needed.

I have dark chocolate, cheesy romances, silly videos and a cell phone full of friends' phone numbers. I should get through the weekend just fine.

Oh, and I also have enough clean underwear for ten days so I don't have to go down in the basement and do laundry.

Feet per second

Not falling speed, just the rate of speed I can manage while jogging in the pool. It's definitely improved since I started water-walking back in April, as has my endurance. Tonight, I really needed the workout, because it was an extra Mondayish Monday.

The day started with an office in which the air-conditioning was apparently blasting all weekend, a work fridge that has been broken for a week, a nastygram from the building management about people leaving their lunches in the ice-maker, and another nastygram from manufacturing, and went downhill from there.

Over the weekend, I did some proofreading for the Little Mermaid on a book she was supposed to build today. I found three small errors, and knowing she had another multi-volume pub to build today, offered to fix the errors when I got in. She took me up on the offer, and I made what I thought would be three simple fixes.

One of them was easy. The other two were not, and in fact, I lost track of the number of times I started from scratch to add one damn form to the book. Start with the .pdf, convert it to a .tif, load the .tif, put the .tif in the book, yell to tech support that it wasn't working, wait forty minutes and start over again. Finally, tech support told me to send them the .tif file, which I did, and they got it to work eleven minutes before LM left for the day. She'd already notified our forecaster that she wouldn't be building the book today, but still, it's infuriating that some glitch cost me a day's worth of work and LM a shot at getting her book done on time.

Another co-worker scared me to death--I had asked her to proofread something I'd done for MegaBookMan, and she said she didn't see any of my changes in the finished manuscript. So I went in to re-do about two days' worth of work, and every single edit I'd made was there. I don't know wth is going on with that co-worker, but I just re-proofed the whole thing and called it done.

Our busy and hellish time of year is starting earlier, and I'm just hoping that my mnemonics and spreadsheets hold up as we head into fourth quarter mayhem.

Three cheers for Flannel Jammies

Today, my mother, whose age I will not disclose lest she kill me, is riding in her tenth Pedal to the Point. She started doing this before I was diagnosed with MS, and I've always been proud of her, but since my diagnosis, I've felt even more invested in her ride.

I do get a giggle out of the fact that every year she says it's her last ride.

Way to go and thank you, Mom.

Have you ever heard...

a vacuum cleaner burp? I'm pretty sure my HK (that's Heritage Kirby, not Hessler & Koch) gave either a huge belch or a huge sigh of relief tonight.

Mallie & the Scarecrow gifted me with the Kirby when they were here last month. I would never in a million years be able to afford a Kirby on my own, but now I have one! Tonight, it got one heck of a workout, and Little Miss lost the privilege of being upstairs while I'm at work.

Today was a pretty Mondayish Monday, and when I'd fought my way home through a chain of severe thunderstorms, all I wanted was to collapse for a few minutes before heading out to the Nat to meet Mom. Sadly, that was not to be. When I got home, I could see the carnage in the living room from the kitchen.

All of the cushions were off the couch and the loveseat, the skirting fabric had been chewed off the couch, and there was stuffing everywhere. I was convinced that Little Miss had shredded a couch cushion or six. Luckily, the cushions were still intact, but sadly, what she did gut was my oversized stuffed dog, Beecee.

Beecee was a gift from my uncle and his first wife to my mom when she went off to college. My poor forty-year-old stuffy was savaged by Little Miss. :( Most of Beecee is still there, but considerably less stuffed than previously. After I'd let the dogs in and out and fed them, I got out the HK and set to work.

Little Miss objected to the vacuuming and Littlefoot objected to Little Miss objecting. Somehow, I managed to get the living room vacuumed. I was going to do the rest of the house, but I took a quick look at HK's torso and realized the poor thing was absolutely bloated. I'll have to stop at the Kirby store tomorrow and pick up some replacement bags.

Oh, and Monday evening was Mondayish too--I waited in the rain in the parking lot for twenty minutes for Mom, who never showed. When I gave up and headed inside at six, we had about fifteen minutes of exercise in when the pool was closed due to lightning. Then I got home and found a message from Mom on my cell--she'd left her car lights on and wouldn't be able to make it. I'm so glad this day is almost over!

Oh, BLEAH

It's been a week full of pinpricks, and I just called my mom and told her I wouldn't be driving up to the lake to spend the weekend. I'm sorry to miss Bookworm Mathgeek and Tinkerbell, but it's just not a good idea. :(

R E S P E C T

There seems to be a huge lack of it these days. Some time today, someone left a big wad of gum on top of one of the walls at the pool. I cleaned it up, and then spent the rest of my warmup time thinking about the lack of respect for common areas. I'm constantly cleaning trash out of my front yard where people throw it from their cars.

My conclusion is that it's a combination of laziness, selfishness and entitlement. It's easier to throw your trash out the car window or leave your gum on the wall, you should only have to do what's easy for you, and you paid the taxes that built that road or the natatorium.

*sigh*

Some days, I just hate human beings.

The Event of the Season

Was Princess Mathgeek's tea party today. The hostess, wearing a white full-skirted dress with a pink pleated bodice and sparkly pink polish on tips and toes, greeted guests at the home of her grandmother, Flannel Jammies. There were nine young guests, ranging in age from three and a half years old to ten years old, all of whom graciously allowed their mothers, aunts, grandmothers and/or friends to accompany them. Party games were played, including musical hats and a memory game, and the guests decorated a summer visor with Foamies. There were glamour shots on the back deck, with feather boas, fancy hats, elbow-length gloves, lace shawls, fans and a large parasol. Dainty snacks were served, including lemon pound cake with fresh strawberries and blueberries, cucumber, ham, egg salad and PB&J sandwiches with the crusts cut off, heart-shaped sugar cookies, Jan Hagel cookies, watermelon, pineapple and strawberries on fancy toothpicks, mini cheesecakes with cherry toppings, vegan mini strawberry cupcakes, mixed nuts and pastel pillow mints. Each guest was given a handmade sugar cookie in the shape of a hat to take home. After the games, the snacks and the photo ops, there was a great deal of "playing guinea pig," a game which involves running around the house screaming and squeaking.

This was definitely a tres chic and tres successful event, and I pity all of the under-ten set who weren't there.

Juror #6

I can now say that I have both served on a jury and had part of a toenail pulled out and the former is much to be preferred.

Much to my surprise, I was actually seated on a jury, sworn in and instructed in the law yesterday (criminal case). This morning, we heard opening arguments, two 911 calls and three witnesses. This afternoon, a fourth witness testified and then the jury was dismissed for a short break while the bailiff worked to get another audio CD of more 911 calls up and playing. During that time, the prosecutor and defense attorney agreed on a plea bargain and the judge accepted it. The jury was dismissed, and I got to be part of our justice system, got a short break from work, and had lunch with my mom twice in two days. For $5 in parking costs and $2 in beverages, that's a bargain!

Late this afternoon, I saw a podiatrist for the first time. I've had ingrown nails on my big toes for ages, but they've started to get bad recently. After talking with Scarecrow last week, I decided to bite the bullet and look into having them permanently fixed. When I saw the doc, he discovered that my right nail was infected, so he numbed my toe, trimmed out what he could and gave me a prescription for an antibiotic. I have an appointment next Thursday to check on how it's healing, and then hopefully I can schedule the procedure. Sadly, it means three to six weeks of no baths, no water-walking, no closed-toe shoes and no toenail polish. Still, now that I've got my courage up, I want to get this over with.

Scary stuff

Today was an awfully long day for a holiday. Hyphenated Corp. gave its peons the day off with pay, but Flannel Jammies, being self-employed, had to work most of the day. I went in to her office first thing this morning, and we balanced her IOLTA account and one guardianship annual account. Then I went to water-walking this morning because there won't be a class offered tomorrow morning.

Ordinarily, that would have been enough for one day for me, but I came home, had a quick lunch and started putting the study back together. I got the vacuum cleaner out and started with that. Little Miss went absolutely bonkers, growling, snarling and trying to bite the vacuum cleaner. The 'Foots always ran away from it, so I was trying to get her to back off while not stopping the vacuum. All of a sudden, Littlefoot charged into the room and laid into Little Miss. I'm not sure why he thought she was a threat to anything but the vacuum, but they were really going at it. There was a lot of snarling, a few yips, tons of big flashing teeth and overall just a very adrenalin-inducing 30-45 seconds.

For all that I may bitch about Littlefoot being a long-haired, double-coated dog, that coat proved incredibly handy today. I took three steps to get around behind him, grabbed two giant handfuls of fur and yanked. The minute I separated the two of them, he calmed down and she hid behind my leg, trembling. I put him outside, and it wasn't until I'd been petting her for a bit that I noticed there was blood all over my hand and my leg. Littlefoot had gone across the top of her nose and nailed her on both cheeks, and dog faces bleed just as profusely as human faces, so it took a little bit of time to get her cleaned up. When I'd done so, I put her out and let him in, and she'd gotten in a shallow slice on top of his ear, which was also bleeding like mad. I got him cleaned up and felt like collapsing, but then Mom called and said she was on her way.

Mom and Dad spent the afternoon here. Mom helped out with the cleaning and furniture moving, and Dad installed my new ceiling fan/light fixture. It's amazing to have a fan with more than one speed, and truly luxurious to have a ceiling fixture that actually provides real light. As long as the JammiesFest attendees don't bring white gloves, we should be okay.

Oh, and all future vacuuming will be done with Little Miss outside on the chain!

Puppeh pictures!