'Twas a long week

So I'm weird--I get a huge rush when a difficult accounting balances. For those of you not familiar with the process, the Summit County Probate Court (and all Ohio probate courts) requires an annual itemization of every penny received and spent and every penny remaining for guardianship accounts.

This week, with the help of Bosstopus and the clients, I balanced two tough accountings, and helped another client finish off an easy one and get ready to close the money-managing guardianship. It took a few long and late days, but it was worth it. I love the wiggly feeling of elation when everything is perfect and the only thing left to do is type the data onto the Adobe forms and print it out.

*grin*

We always do court pleadings and accountings on 20lb bond paper. When our client took her completed accounting to court on Friday, the clerk helping her touched the original and said, "Only one attorney uses such nice paper--are you one of Bosstopus' clients?" When the client told me about that, I passed it on to Bosstopus, who'd been stuck down in Steubenville for most of the day. She laughed and wondered if that was a good thing to be known for at court. I said, "It's better than your previous reputation for using yukky paper clips." I've tried to fix that since I first heard about it, and I save the rusty, old, bent or otherwise bad paperclips for the bank. Key Bank is a huge corporation, but if you give their tellers a deposit with a paperclip, they will keep it. For the fees they charge, they can buy their own!

When not working this week, I've been making soap. More about that in a later post, when I get the pictures off my camera. Yesterday, I took the parental units to the airport to catch a flight to Dallas, then shopped for more soap supplies.

A Study in Contrast

Yesterday was my annual office visit with my neurologist, yay. It normally takes me forty-five minutes to get to the Mellen Center, so I left an hour early. It was a beautiful day, if cold. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and gas was $2/gallon, so I tanked up and hit the road. Unfortunately, right after I got onto 271N, traffic stopped. Two lanes of brakelights, and no exits for miles. After twenty minutes and three miles of severely slowed traffic, I passed one car, off in the right ditch. All of that backup pretty much had to have been caused by rubberneckers.

Just as traffic resumed normal speed (65 mph), I ran out of windshield washer fluid. Whatever the city of Cleveland uses on their roads, it does not wipe off with water and blades--I suddenly found myself driving blind. I snapped on the flashers, slowed to a crawl, and drove the last mile and a half to my exit peering through a tiny clear spot in the bottom of my windshield. At the first gas station on Mayfield Road, I pulled in, only to find that the windshield wiper buckets were empty and the squeegees frozen. Not only that, but there was an ambulance and a crowd of gapers at the doorway of the store. I looked long enough to realize that a customer must have fallen right inside the door, and decided I wasn't going to stay there and gawk as the EMTs finished strapping her to a backboard. I got back in my car and headed for the next gas station.

That one didn't have any windshield washer fluid, so I left it and drove to the next one. In the parking lot, I made a quick call to the neurologist's office, since it was now my appointment time, and obviously, I wasn't there. One of the (many) things that drove me Librarian-poo about my neuro's former nurse practitioner was her constant tardiness, so I definitely wanted to check and see if my own tardiness would inconvenience the new NP. The receptionist checked, and said Charlene was running late, so to go ahead and come on in. I went into the gas station, bought a horribly overpriced jug of windshield washer fluid, went back out to my car and discovered I couldn't find the hood latch. Aaargh. I went back inside, bought an even more overpriced bottle of Windex, spritzed my windshield and went to my appointment.

Everything is as normal as it gets for someone with mild MS. Charlene and I discussed my upcoming surgery, the surgery I had last fall, how I felt, and my insurance not covering the copaxone any longer. Then I did all the fun little dexterity and strength tests. Once the appointment was over, I went back to my car, managed this time to open the hood and fill up the washer fluid reservoir, and drove to work with a screaming tension headache and a sore neck and shoulders.

This morning, it was snowing to beat the band, and the plows were a bit behind. I didn't turn on the radio, just ghosted slowly along the roads, feeling my way and watching the snow fall. Despite having to watch what I was doing because of the road conditions, today's drive was peaceful, almost meditative. Definitely a healing contrast to yesterday morning's Cupcake of Doom ride.

Grrr

I took the stupid Provera for two weeks, and my period started less than two days after I stopped. So yesterday, I had horrible cramps, and I called my doctor's office. They told me they called in a 'scrip for Darvocet, so this morning, I dragged myself out of the house to the pharmacy, only to find out they hadn't called it in!

I've had three hot baths since last night, used up all my Marathon bars, Wiccy'd myself until I can't stand it, and I'm still in pain. Come Monday, I am going to throttle someone from my doctor's staff, damnit.

And in the middle of all this pain and frustration, Blogger made me upgrade, the bastards.

*curls back up into a bundle of misery*

Sometimes the numbers just don't add up

My friend's cat, Muffin, is not fond of the calculator. Give her a minute and she'll show you what she thinks of accounting.

White & Nerdy

I picked a bad day to quit sniffing glue.

Since Sunday, I've felt leaden and blue. It was so bad that I snapped at Bosstopus for no reason whatsoever yesterday, and today apologized. Last night, I made the decision to ask my neurologist to increase my Lexapro dosage. I'm not a leaden, blue person--I'm a happy person with effed-up brain chemistry.

Then today my period started. Bleah. First of all, it wasn't supposed to start until five to ten days after my last dose of Provera, which was Monday. Second, Lexapro does nothing to help with PMS, which I know after two+ years of taking the stuff.

So now I have cramps, my mood's lower than a snake's testicles, and I don't know whether I should ask for an increased dosage on the antidepressant or not. If there weren't a frozen, harsh wind blowing, I'd go rent the movie I stole my post title from (and if you don't recognize it, you're a child, go away, I don't want to feel old). Since I can't face freezing myself again just for a movie, I shall have a hot Lush bath, and probably follow it up with the yumminess that is my mom's homemade pulled pork, and bless her for sharing with me (she heard the chili story and thought I might like something different *grin* ).

*sigh*

I just have to keep reminding myself that there are only 22 days until my surgery!

Cravings

It's cold, cold, cold, snowy and cold out, so of course I packed a cold lunch for myself. Nonetheless, it's something I've been craving since December--cucumber sandwiches. Because my starches are so restricted since the surgery, I had resigned myself to no more sandwiches of any type. Then I discovered that at least one grocery store near me carried loaves of that itty-bitty "cocktail bread" I thought had gone out of culinary fashion in the 1970s. So I snagged a loaf, and found that on one of those little slices of bread I can fit three or four cucumber slices and half an ounce of cream cheese. Voilá, cream cheese sandwiches for lunch!

On Friday, I caved to the craving for chili cheese fries from the diner downstairs. As I picked through the disgustingly generous portion (seriously--about four meals' worth of food for someone on a 2K calorie diet), I realized that what I was really craving was the chili, not the fries. So tonight on my way home, I stopped and bought the smallest amount of ground sirloin I could (a pound & half), plus tomato sauce, and there's a huge pot of chili simmering on the stove right now. I'm going to be freezing a lot of it, and eating the rest for dinner every night this week, but it's so worth it when it's snowing outside. The house smells warm and delicious, and I'm rather pleased with myself for craving the spices and not the carbs. Oh, and despite growing up with stern admonitions from my mother not to waste food, the remainder of the fries from Friday's lunch wound up on the compost heap. Better fat raccoons than a nauseous me.

Girls' Night Out

Thursday was Goldilock's birthday. We had our office lunch on Wednesday and included Snoopy, who was totally puzzled by the card I gave Goldilocks. It said (roughly), "As you get older, you start getting bedroom syndrome--that's where your chest falls into your drawers." Laughter from everyone else, and a puzzled, "What's that mean?" from Snoopy. Ah well.

Thursday night, Bosstopus, Vegan Lawyer, Goldilocks and I went out to dinner and to see "Dreamgirls." Dinner was decent, if a bit overpriced, at a new chain place near the movie theater. I thought the movie was incredible. Bosstopus had seen it before, and enjoyed it so much that she had suggested the four of us see it. Goldilocks enjoyed it also, or so she told me Friday morning.

VL, however, spent about twenty minutes picking it apart on Friday, within earshot of Bosstopus. As far as I can tell, her biggest complaint with the movie was that it didn't stick with one person's storyline throughout the whole thing, so she didn't know who she was supposed to like. When I tentatively mentioned that it was supposed to be an ensemble piece, she said, "No, because then they wouldn't have listed the Jennifer person as a supporting actress." Yeesh.

I think VL just takes entertainment too seriously. For me, movies are about suspending disbelief, being transported to another world, and enjoying myself. VL analyzes everything to death. Side note--back when it came out, I was wowed by "The Life of David Gale" and suggested VL see it. She said no, on the grounds that if you see disturbing things in a movie, those images are in your brain forever. A few months later, she was telling me that "Farenheit 9/11" was the best movie she'd ever seen. Erm, that's got a lot more disturbing things than "The Life of David Gale" in it, VL. She sort of upset Bosstopus by trashing the movie, too--after all, it was her personal idea and she was all excited about us seeing it. I tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, but sometimes she takes things personally.

I'm really glad I got to see "Dreamgirls" in the theater. The songs were good, the acting was good, and all of the Dreamgirls had a happy ending. I don't usually go out for movies, so it was a treat to see this one on the big screen. If I see only one movie in the theater this year, I'm glad this was the one.

Attack of the Neglected Memes

One from Mallie:

1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. List any holidays
6. Post it.

Events

1789 - French Revolution: Citizens of Paris storm the Bastille and free seven prisoners.

1825 - The Jefferson Literary and Debating Society was founded at the University of Virginia.

1965 - Mariner 4 flyby of Mars takes the first close-up photos of another planet.

Birthdays

1602 - Jules Mazarin, French statesman and cardinal (d. 1661)

1910 - William Hanna, American animator (d. 2001)

1913 - Gerald Rudolph Ford, Jr., 38th President of the United States (d. 2006)

Deathdays

1881 - Billy the Kid, American outlaw (b. 1859?)

Holidays

Bastille Day

*deep breath*

Now the one from K:

Grab the book nearest your computer. List the Title and Author. Turn to page 123. Read past the first 5 sentences, then read the next three. Type out those three sentences in your blog, then tag three bloggers.

"Smoke and Ashes" by Tanya Huff.

"As long as demons are attracted to your soundstage, for whatever reason..."

Translating the emphasis, Tony could see another "talk" with the constable in his future. Probably accompanied by shouting.

Mallie, Scott and Brendan may all consider themselves tagged.

I guess the word is out

and Jammies' Halfway House for Wayward Otters is now open.

The first two otters arrived from Atlanta in September (thanks, Fuzzy!). That would be Opal & Ophelia.

Orville came from Erie, PA in time for Christmas, which was when Oscar made the trip from San Diego (via Orlando, FL).

Last night, when I got home, Orville's cousin was waiting on the doorstep. He doesn't have a name yet, but he is just as cute and soft as the rest of my wayward otters, so of course, he is staying. Captain Spaulding is checking to see if he inadvertently signed me up for the "Otter of the Month Club." If he did, I have to say that the January otter is identical to the December otter.

Not only do I have the joy of a new fuzzy friend, I have almost all of my November Amazon order, including two books I've been dying to read; four Lush Holiday bubble bars courtesy of a sweet shop manager in San Francisco; AND the ultrasound showed no bad things in my uterus and hot doctor is going to remove my girl bits on February 19th.

This calls for a happy chair dance!

Must have this...

The minute it's out on DVD.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwww

Pledging your virginity to your father.

This is just WRONG on so many levels, I'm sputtering.

1. Since when is a 25-year-old unable to make her own decisions?
2. Why pledge just to your father and not both parents?
3. Who says abstinence prevents divorce?
4. Why the violent overtones (swords and war)?
5. Why is a hymen so intensely important in the twenty-first century?
6. WHAT KIND OF WEIRDO BRINGS A FOUR YEAR OLD TO A "PURITY BALL"?

My mom speaks hopefully of morality, religion and politics as moving back and forth like a pendulum, and that this kind of repressive crap merely represents the farthest arc.

*sigh*

I wish I could believe her.

Productive? What's that?

This weekend has been extraordinarily non-productive, even for me. Yesterday, I watered the houseplants, took pictures, created another Lush fairy tale and tried on all of my wearable Christmas presents. Today I went shopping, bought birthday presents for all three of my February ladies and then came home, unloaded the car, and re-loaded with stuff for Mom. Tonight, I am meeting her for dinner at a Thai restaurant, and then I shall come home and vegetate in front of a tv.

If I weren't so sluggish, I would start giving slugs lessons in being lazy.

Hmmm

Quick edit for those family members that read my blog:

Dad has not been told that the doc used the "c" word. He's out of state, he can't do anything but worry, and the odds are very good the ultrasound will show nothing of the sort long before he comes home. So no letting cats out of bags, hmmm? Thanks.

This morning, I went to see my new doctor. First of all, yay for the eye candy--he's quite attractive. Second, double yay for the fact that he believes I am old enough to make my own decisions about offspring and the not having of them.

He did tell me that my insurance won't pay for a hysterectomy if he doesn't do some tests first to prove that I need it, so I'm scheduled for an ultrasound next Thursday afternoon. He's also a bit concerned about the possibility of endometrial cancer, and a bit bothered that my previous OB/Gyn hadn't done an ultrasound since 2004. I didn't expect him to remember doing my emergency surgery in 2002, but I did let him know about it so he can check his own files, and he said, "I'm good at taking things out."

I like this guy--he's straightforward, clear, concerned, has a sense of humor and is on my side. In a week, I should have an idea about the scheduling of the hysterectomy.

Girl gross stuff

Guys, skip this post, okay?







I'll wait while you leave.







Just us girls now? If not, you've been warned, both by the post title and by the opening lines. On your own little grossed-out head be it.





It's time to find a new girl bits doctor. I have had horrible cramps and heavy flow with every period since my early teens, with the exception of the 8 years I was on the pill. Right now, though, I've had my period and excrutiating cramps since December 14th, and today a combination of cramps and bleeding so heavily I soaked through an overnight pad in ninety minutes woke me up at five a.m.

The OB/Gyn with whom I have had a wonderful 10 year relationship is essentially refusing to perform a hysterectomy on the grounds that I could "meet Mr. Right and want to have children." Never mind that I made the decision not to have children in my 20s and that the decision was reinforced when I was diagnosed with MS, never mind that between nephews, nieces, and young cousins, there are twenty-nine kids in the next generation of my family, my doctor believes that I should remain fertile even if I'm miserable. Her solution to the bad cramps was a prescription for Tylenol with codeine--enough for one period and non-refillable. She also said we could discuss the matter again at my annual appointment in July.

Two years ago, she told me if I lost fifty pounds, she would do the hysterectomy. Now that I have, she's revealed her true motivation. I'm not going to confront her, I'm not going to see one of her partners for a second opinion, I'm going to another doctor. I checked the phone book on Saturday, and the doctor who did the emergency removal of my right ovary when I had the endometrial tumor back in 2002 is not only in practice, but he's all of five blocks from my house. As soon as the office opens, I am calling to see if he's accepting new patients, and taking their first available appointment. I cannot live like this any more--I'm home from work on a day when I'm needed, stuffed full of narcotics and still miserable.

Sometimes, I hate the entire medical profession. And sometimes, I just hate being a girl.

The Alphabet Game, Blogger edition.

From Guin:

A - Available/Single? Yes.
B - Best Friend? Stacey, Sherri, Amy
C - Cake or Pie? Carrot cake.
D - Drink Of Choice? Water or Diet coke.
E - Essential Item You Use Everyday? Bathtub.
F - Favorite Color? Hunter Green.
G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? Gumdrops, please.
H - Hometown? Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio.
I - Indulgence? Lush, garden plants, bubble gum for the brain novels.
J - January Or February? February--I may be single, but I love decorating for Valentine's.
K - Kids & Their Names? Furkids are Stormy and Beau, aka Bigfoot & Littlefoot.
L - Life Is Incomplete Without? Family, friends, and furry critters.
M - Marriage date? N/A.
N - Number Of Siblings? Two younger brothers.
O - Oranges Or Apples? Jonagold or Pink Lady apples.
P - Phobias/Fears? Spiders, fire.
Q - Favorite Quote? "You want feminine proctection? Get an Akita Bitch." Susan Conant.
R - Reason to Smile? My family, my dogs, my friends, my garden, my Lush.
S - Season? Autumn.
T - Tag 3 or 4 people? If you read this, you're tagged.
U - Unknown Fact About Me? When I'm approaching a stoplight, I cross my toes to keep it green.
V - Vegetable you don't like? Almost all cooked vegetables.
W - Worst Habit? Not dusting.
X - X-rays You've Had? Hips, knees, spinal & head MRIs.
Y - Your Favorite Food? Chocolate, steak, pasta.
Z - ? Zarathustra--R. Strauss. Memories of watching "2001" with my dad & brothers.

Dinner with Doc

Last night, I had dinner with my oldest friend. She's not old, it's just that we've known each other for 35 years. *grin* We had a lovely Mexican dinner at Mariachi Loco, came back to my house and exchanged presents, and talked about bath products, gardening, mothers, mutual friends, family, etc. I had thought beforehand about reminding her not to wear black pants because of the dogs, but she's got a PhD, she should have remembered. Then we were standing in line at the restaurant and I looked, and sure enough--black pants. Thank goodness she's got a sense of humor and a calm, balanced outlook. At the house, she petted the dogs without ever once showing any kind of worry for the layer of fur they were leaving on her.

I told her at dinner she was going to shoot me for one of her presents, by which I meant that I had three Lush bubble bars for her and she would probably get addicted. By the time she opened her bag of bath products and her box with pjs and slippers, I'd forgotten what I said at dinner, and I was too busy being excited about my new fragranced oil burner, candle and linen spray (all in lavender *blissful sigh*) to explain even if I had remembered. The phone rang about half an hour after she left, and she asked, "Why am I going to shoot you? I've been trying to think why the whole way home!" I explained, she laughed, and we said goodnight.

Whether or not I started Doc on a Lush addiction, my own is going to take a back seat for the next few months. Not only because I am still upset with the recent crappy customer service, but because it's time for my gardening addiction to be fed. So far, I'm up to about a $130.00 order from the Jung Seed catalog, including viburnum, butterfly bushes, phlox, lily-of-the-valley (in PINK!) and gladiolus, among others. That will be my next extravagance, and Lush can just do without my money for a while.

Bobby Terry, you SCROOOOED UP!

That's a quote from "The Stand," by Stephen King. When Bobby Terry accidentally shoots the Judge in the face, Randall Flagg is a bit upset, and Bobby winds up a bit dead. Right now, I rather wish I could chew up the folks at Lush's online division.

See, they had this wonderful, amazing sale on Christmas Day, and didn't tell anyone about it--you pretty much had to be on the computer and visiting the Lush website right on Christmas to benefit. From what I've read, they gave away some amazing stuff. But, okay, I don't need to spend any more money, I placed an order right before Christmas, and although I was miffed at how they handled the sale, I've made my peace with it.

That is, until today, when I was notified that three of the items I ordered at 10:30 a.m. PST on Friday, December 22nd, were out of stock (and since they were Christmas items, there won't be any more, unless Lush decides to make the same item next year). Of course, Lush didn't get my order ready for shipping until today, six days AFTER I posted my order, and some of the folks who benefited from the sale got FREE Holidays (my item).

To say I'm a bit miffed is putting it mildly. Frankly, right now I want Randy Flagg's teeth.

From the mouths of babes

Two funny comments from my six year old nephew:

His four year old brother had a bit of a meltdown when his last Christmas present, a car, didn't make noise. His older brother looked up from his final present, a construction set, and said, "Well, I'm not all that thrilled with this one, either."

Later in the day, as the six year old was playing with his Floam, he called out, "Mom, this isn't squishy or stretchy--the commercial lied!"

The Loot, Part II

Got:

From parents:

A black velvet pantsuit
A white & black flowered skirt with a black, short-sleeved sweater
A brown shirt with a turquoise fun fur scarf with fuzzy cream/brown yarn knitted into it that my mom knitted for me
$100
Holiday, Christingly and Greenwing
Turquoise striped shirt
Short-sleeved denim shirt
Black gauze peasant blouse
A copy of this book, signed by the author, who's a friend of my parents.

From one brother & his family:
A gorgeous, sheer magenta peasant top
An equally gorgeous black sweater
A framed picture of my nephews
A book of short stories by Susannah Clarke

From the other brother & his family:
Puddy Holly, Ne Worry Pas, Creamy Candy and Christmas Day
Freshwater pearl earrings and two necklaces made by my sister-in-law

Gave:

To my dad:
A hunter green fleece jacket
Two bags of chocolate-drizzled caramel corn
Set of four martini glasses with bright blue twisted stems

To my mom:
Blue jammies & fuzzy slippers
Handmade stoneware cheese plate & matching knife
Funky glittery egg-shaped Santa
Little velvet Santa pillow on a golden cord.

To my nephews:
For the six year old, a M&Ms truck/candy dispenser and his first digital camera
For the four year old, two popup travelling Matchbox play sets

To my nieces:
For the three and a half year old, a dress up box
For the 11 month old, two winter outfits

To my brother in Columbus:
A pooping reindeer and a set of martini glasses with their own ice holders

To my brother in Dallas:
A Cleveland Browns book & a check

To my sister-in-law in Columbus:
A set of pink and black jammies & fuzzy black slippers
A leopard-print dress
A kitchen message board with a background of happy chefs

And for some reason, I can't remember what I sent my sister-in-law in Dallas (it's late and I'm tired).

Still have to exchange presents with two of my friends, and then Christmas will be over.

That's IT

Neither Rob nor The Heather have received their Christmas boxes. I am sending Snicker to Toronto.

Canada Post won't know what hit 'em.

Now I want the piggie!

Before I start talking about presents I have received, I will say that I am happy that all the boxes going to various spots in the U.S. have arrived, and more than a bit worried about the Canadian presents. If either of my Canuck friends have gotten a box, could you let me know? And if not, I shall have to send the Snicker to Canada to intimidate Canadian postal workers.

Thanks to all of my lovely friends for my wonderful Christmas pressies! *beeg hugs*

Thursday night, I came home from work and saw a small package on my stoop. When opened, it turned out to be an adorable, soft-furred little otter from Captain Spaulding. Oscar the otter wears a t-shirt for the Erie Otters, and has a tail that looks like a beaver tail, but he's still adorable. And soft, omidog he's soft--I kept rubbing him against my cheek.

Friday when I got home from work, there was a box bigger than Littlefoot on the stoop. By Friday night, I was considering putting Littlefoot in the box, punching some air holes and marking it "Return to Sender." That Box contained Christmas pressies from Mallie & The Scarecrow. They sent me a very funny sweatshirt (It's uncredible how well I am with grammer), an mp3 player, a plush otter, a plush red-eyed tree frog, a DVD/VCR, 3 DVDs, seven books and two dog toys. Also included were four Sunnyside bubble bars from The Heather, in an actual Lush bag from an actual Lush store. Yes, I'm saving the bag--if you didn't already know I was dorky, read the entry before this one.

I'm currently giggling and snorting my way through "Interior Desecrations," and, as predicted in comments on Scott's blog, saying to myself, "This is what she thinks of me?" They also sent me an book on frogs and toads which states right on the cover that it is authoritative and illustrated --after all, what point is a reference work if it's not authoritative?

And the dog toys. Ahhh, yes. One stuffed squeaky pink piggie (memories of my prior experience with undead stuffed piggies) and one very fluffy squeaky stuffed sheep. I gave Littlefoot the sheep and Bigfoot the piggie, and spent the rest of the evening listening to the canine equivalent of "Hey, I like the sheep better. Gimme!" "Fine, I'll take the piggie!" "Now I want the piggie!"

By request

Lush has a message board, and one of the subforums is "Lush P*o*r*n," wherein members post pictures of their Lush stashes. I decided to do something a bit different for my stash thread, and Sherri requested that I share it here so she doesn't have to join the Lush board.

A Lush Fairy Tale


Cast of Characters (in order of appearance):

Peasants: Tisty Tosty
King Frank: Blue Skies
Queen Cosi: The Comforter
Princess Herbaceous: French Kiss
Visiting Princes: Ceridwen, Avobath, Wish Upon A Star
Prince Sonny: Sunny Side
Guards: Wiccy
Ladies in Waiting: Holiday(s)
Gentlemen of the Court: Christmas Kisses(es)
Blob Monster Supervisors: Old Blue Skies
Blob Monsters: Christingly(s)
Mysterious Wise Old Wizard: Amandapondo
Magistrate: Think Pink

Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom named Bathtopia. The peasants were happy in their hovels.



King Frank and Queen Cosi doted upon their beautiful adopted daughter, Princess Herbaceous, who everyone just called “Herbi.”



The Princess was very picky (and more than a little spoiled), and no matter how many eligible young men visited the castle, she turned up her nose at them.





One day, Princess Herbi was out riding her pet dragon.



She met a mysterious young man.



He said he was Prince Sonny, from a neighboring kingdom. Because he hadn’t been paraded in front of her as a possible husband, she liked him, and he seemed to like her too. They started meeting every day on their rides, and soon they fell in love.



When Princess Herbi took Prince Sonny to meet her parents, they were shocked and appalled!



“NO!” said the King and Queen. “You may NOT marry him! Your children will smell disgusting! And they’ll be glittery!”

They sent Prince Sonny away and locked Princess Herbi up with her ladies-in-waiting. Princess Herbi wept and screamed and laid on the floor holding her breath until she turned purple, but the King and the Queen were adamant.



That night, she tried to sneak out of the castle, so her parents sent her away to a remote location guarded by blob monsters.



When Prince Sonny arrived at the castle the next day, the King and the Queen gloated that Princess Herbi was out of reach and had their guard throw him out. He went home and consulted his childhood mentor, the Wise Old Wizard.



The Wise Old Wizard consulted his charts, did a spell, and said he could find Princess Herbi, but Prince Sonny should bring all his friends to fight the blob monsters.

After a long and arduous ride, Prince Sonny, his friends and the Wise Old Wizard arrived at the secret castle where Princess Herbi was held prisoner.





They battled the blob monsters.





There was carnage on both sides.



It was ugly.



But they were victorious!



Princess Herbi flew from the castle into Prince Sonny’s arms.



“Oh, my love, you rescued me!”

“Yes, my precious, and we shall never be separated again!”

Prince Sonny had even brought a magistrate to marry them on the spot.



They returned to Bathtopia, and told the King and the Queen what had happened.

The Queen fainted.

The King yelled.

But eventually, they threw a grand ball to celebrate.





They all lived happily ever after.

Even if Princess Herbi and Prince Sonny did in fact have stinky, glittery children.

The Loot, Part I

My very favorite camelid, Evil Alpaca, sent me the Saving Jane CD with my new theme song on it. That arrived on Monday.

Today was our office Christmas luncheon, and I think everyone liked their gifts. I know Snoopy loved his pooping reindeer, and Goldilocks really liked her Steelers piggy bank. We had a very lovely lunch, and I came home loaded with great loot. Snoopy got me a $20 gift card for Yankee Candle, which will buy lots of lovely wax tarts to melt, Goldilocks got me a Greenwing bath ballistic, Christmas Kisses and Creamy Candy bubble bars and a Twinkle ballistic from Lush, and some Warm Vanilla Sugar body butter that everyone at the table wanted to eat. Vegan Lawyer got me a gorgeous burnt velvet shawl in black with sparkly beading all over it--I'm going to wear it to work tomorrow over my bright green silk blazer. The boss gave me a beautiful pair of silver earrings with bright blue glass and $250.00.

The Inn at Turner's Mill wasn't the best choice of lunch venue for a vegan & a vegetarian, but the three meat-eaters were happy. I had the medallions of beef, as did Goldilocks, and Snoopy had the butternut squash pasta with chorizo. Next year, we'll probably go back to Blue Canyon. Still, we had a great time, and I think I've got VL interested in Lush. And I know if she tries it, she'll be addicted. *grin*

Instant gratification

Much to my surprise, almost all of the US packages I mailed on Saturday arrived at their destinations on Monday. While a few people are determined to wait until Christmas to open their pressies, MissJett and the Alpaca both opened their boxes last night, and then let me know that I chose well.

I adore giving presents. If I had loads of money, that would be all I would do all the time. :-D

And now the hard part

Imp, Sherri and Captain Spaulding all have their boxes.

Now I have to WAIT for people to open boxes.

Ack! I hate waiting!

Christmas P.O.

The post office opens at 8:30, so I was there at 8:15. I had to make three trips with my boxes, setting them on the customer counter at the end closest to the registers (which weren't open yet). As I was making my third trip, a gentleman came in with one box, and I insisted he stand in front of me since he only had one box. In return, he insisted on carrying my last three packages inside from my car. We chatted for a while, and then were joined by a lady with one box who said the post office should have coffee and Christmas music for people waiting. I said that I work in a retail/office building, and if I hear "Santa Baby" one more time, I'm liable to go on a rampage. Both of my conversation partners snorted.

By the time the metal divider was rolled up, there was a line behind the three of us stretching all the way to the door, and this is a big post office. While the gentleman in front of me was paying for his postage, I started moving boxes to the clerk's counter. While I was on my second set of three, a clerk opened up the register next to the first one. The redhead at the first register said snottily, "You are supposed to wait until you are called. He wasn't ready for you yet." I tried to explain that I was just getting my packages within reach in order to speed up the process, but fell over my own tongue. Anyway, the clerk who helped me, a very nice man named Reggie, could not have been sweeter. He weighed the packages to Canada first, so I could fill out the customs forms while he weighed everything else, and helped me get the least expensive shipping that would still get everything there by Christmas.

When I explained that one package wasn't fragile but it was meltable, he weighed it, put the postage on it and set it aside so he could mark it later to keep away from heat. Although the natives behind me were restless, Reggie was an absolute doll throughout the entire transaction. I apologized to him for what looked like jumping the gun, and managed to use the correct words when telling him I was trying to expedite things. He said that he's used to people being cranky at the holidays, and I wondered if he meant customers or the snotty redhead. *grin*

When I left the post office, eighty-six dollars later, I was pretty sure I was the most hated person there, even if the redheaded clerk is a bitch.

Ms. CraftyButt

The fruits of several nights' labor, all laid out and ready to wrap & pack:











The pale yellow is raspberry lemonade, the purple bath salts are lavender, the light purple soaps & fizzies are pearberry, the deep red is carnation/rose, the dark purple soaps are cherry, the yellow/green soaps are lemongrass, the pale orange is spiced citrus, the bright blue is peppermint and the dark red/cream/orange are various combos of clove, cinnamon, orange and vanilla.

Off to pack all this stuff for shipping! :-)

So much for Wednesday

This was supposed to be my night to gloat over all the stuff I've done, and post pictures of all my neato bath products I've made since Sunday. Since the slugs are totally kicking my ass today, I decided just to post some pics of the brats.

So it's Monday

And there were bad things and good things.

The biggest bad thing was, of course, just the sheer existence of Monday. It didn't help that I very much enjoyed having Captain Crossword in town for the weekend, and taking him to the airport on Sunday made me sad. We had a wonderful dinner Saturday night at Russo's--great food and even better company. Dad & CC both ordered Maker's Mark manhattans, and the drinks came in glasses a beta fish would be happy swimming in. *chuckle* Mom had iced tea and the four cheese spinach ravioli, and the rest of us had the chicken-fried steak, which was made with beef tenderloin and absolutely wonderful.

Sunday morning, Mom put on a lavish brunch spread for ten people (family and 3 couples who are old friends) and we all enjoyed the meal and the conversation. It was an absolutely beautiful day, so the driving part to the airport was nice, and it did give me an extra forty-five minutes alone with my brother, but I couldn't watch him go into the terminal. Lest you think I'm being stickily sentimental, I must confess that instead of waving goodbye to him I was trying to readjust the driver's seat of Dad's car from a position comfortable for a six foot one person to one comfy for me at my mere five foot five.

So in addition to having to return to work after a very wonderful weekend, there was all the usual stuff--a gazillion phone messages, checks to write, data entry on an accounting (and I totally forgot to do the shredding, so I have to do that tomorrow). But I woke up to a very clean house, Vegan Lawyer told me she can see me shrinking, which was a nice compliment, the anarchist animals are back, the new Blowfish catalog is out, and I got an amusing wrong number on my cell phone. I don't dare brag about Monday being easy--the last time I did that, seven things went wrong between 7 p.m. and bedtime, and I still have to make soap, but I will say that it could have been worse.

Brutally honest personality test.

Take it here.

Loner - ISFP
46% Extraversion, 40% Intuition, 33% Thinking, 46% Judging
Ahh...the sweet serenity. The utter perfection of all creation. The wondrous beauty of nature. The sweet sparrow singing along in the great orchestra we call life...
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? You're the type of person people always love to mock because they don't believe there's anyone ACTUALLY like you.

Do realise that you ostracise people with your behaviour or is it all subconscious? You're so quiet and reserved it's almost impossible to get to know you well, and when someone finally does, all you want to talk about is grace and beauty and harmony!

Ugh. Sure, you "genuinely care for others" and all that rubbish, but when it boils right down to the basics you take life far too seriously.

Throughout the entire test, I bet you were searching for "further clarification and hidden meaning" so that you might improve your pitiful life. And woe and behold if it betrayed your intense values system!

You need to STOP smelling the daisies. Believe it or not, logic does have a place in this world...imbecile.

Hmmm. Some of it fits, some of it doesn't. Kinda like life in all of its deep grace and beauty and harmony. :p

My new theme song

"Imperfection" by Saving Jane

You can listen to the song here (Just click on the link for "Imperfection").

My hair's a wreck
Mascara runs
My feet get dirty and my skin burns in the sun

My lips, they bleed
But I still sing my songs
Takes me a minute to admit it when I'm wrong

Pretty is as pretty does, but pretty's not my thing...

This is what you get
This is who I am
Take me now or leave me
Any way you can
Sometimes I trip and fall
But I know where I stand
And if you're thinking about changing my direction...
Don't mess with Imperfection.

My back is weak
But my will is true
Got good intentions but I never follow through
I say too much
Don't know when to leave
In case you're looking that's my heart there on my sleeve

Ego trips and stupid slipups, I'm a mess but..

This is what you get
This is who I am
Take me now or leave me
Any way you can
Sometimes I trip and fall
But I know where I stand
And if you're thinking about changing my direction...
Don't mess with Imperfection.

Scratched and bruised, a little used,
But baby, I work fine.
You might call me damaged goods,
But I'm one of a kind.

My hair's a wreck
Mascara runs
No, I'm not perfect, but I'm not the only one...

This is what you get
This is who I am
Take me now or leave me
Any way you can
Sometimes I trip and fall
But I know where I stand
And if you're thinking about changing my direction...
Don't mess with Imperfection.

I love the music for this song, and the lyrics are me, completely. Unfortunately, it's not on Saving Jane's only album. However, they're from Columbus and my brother might know someone who knows someone who might know someone in the band so he can find out if this is for an upcoming album and let me know when it will be released. I will definitely be buying it.

I like lists

I like to-do lists, Christmas lists, lists of books, lists of things I didn't know about people, shopping lists, all kinds of lists. So here are today's lists:

Things I have done this week:

Emptied 24 boxes of crap which have sat since I moved in here two years ago
Washed, dried and put away almost all of the crap
Winnowed out enough things to donate one box of crap to Goodwill
Hauled all the empty boxes out with the trash

Things I have done today:

Moved the living room furniture around
Hauled one nonfunctional speaker and two nonfunctional lamps out to the garage for disposal on Thursday
Moved Goodwill box to garage to be donated in January (taxes)
Cleaned off the peninsula counter and the kitchen table
Vacuumed the living room, eating area and breezeway
One load of laundry washed and now in the dryer, one load folded and put away
Compost taken out
Three wreaths hung
Houseplants watered
Made a to-do list
Posted to my blog (hey, two in one! *grin*)

Things I still need to do:

Wash the kitchen & bathroom floors
Scrub the tub, toilet and bathroom sink
Change my sheets
Hide my "toys"
Take a shower
Eat lunch
Maybe take a nap

Seduction style

From Jay:

What are the odds?

Yesterday morning, I asked VL (Vegan Lawyer) how her weekend was, and she said Saturday was great and Sunday sucked. Saturday night, she was walking from one mini-barn to the other (feeding the goat and the horse) and she walked right into a tree branch, which poked her in the eye. She spent Sunday feeling dizzy, nauseous and pained all day. We talked about how miserable a poke in the eye is, and I told her about the two times it's happened to me, then she told me about the other time it's happened to her. Back when I was still living with my parents, we were having a bonfire and Dad stepped on one end of a tree branch, which whipped the other end up and across my eye, and then about four or five years ago, I bent over to pick up a tomato plant and jabbed my eye right down on one of the stakes.

So last night, I go to fluff up the pillow shams on my bed, and manage to flick a corner of one sham across my right eyeball. Pain, pain, pain, OH PAIN, ow ow ow. I had ice on it all evening and it still hurts today, and I have a headache.

Honestly, what are the odds?

Christmas tag

From the lovely Guin. It's a simple tag, asking for Christmas lists. Here are my top ten wishes, in no particular order:

1. A copy of everything Terry Pratchett has written.

2. Enough money to give my friend Snicker a huge tract of land and a no-kill shelter on it.

3. Someone to go with me when I kidnap certain dogs I've seen spending their lives on chains and deliver them to said no-kill shelter.

4. A new car. Nothing fancy, a new Saturn wagon would be lovely.

5. A Lush store in Akron, and funds for several years' worth of spending therein.

6. For a friend to get an acceptance to college in Canada, tuition funds for said friend, and vacation money for he and his wife to visit here and for me to visit them in Toronto.

7. For my brother to get his job in Akron, followed by his wife finding a job here and then them moving here with my adorable nieces.

8. For my friends and family to live forever.

9. Ditto #8 for my dogs.

10. Enough money to add a deck and some extra square footage on to my house, and to add my dream bathroom in the new footage.

Sherri, Jay, Brendan, and Scott may all consider themselves tagged. :-p

Scattered

I've been working flat-out since 9 this morning, and every single room in this house is a MESS. Between yesterday and today, I emptied twenty boxes of crap which were hiding behind the boxes of books; washed everything I want to keep; created a box for Goodwill and hauled lots of crap out to the garage for disposal on Thursday night. Today, I've washed, dried, folded and put away 3 loads of laundry; I have one in the washer and one in the dryer and four left to go. I've vacuumed the library; changed my bedskirt and comforter to my Christmas ones; changed the sheets on the bed and run the dishwasher.

However, I still haven't scrubbed the tub, toilet and sink, vacuumed anywhere but in the library, swept & mopped the kitchen floor, taken out the compost or rearranged the living room furniture the way I want it. I think my problem is that I keep doing bits and pieces of chores, so they never seem to be done.

I need a break, so it's naptime for a while. Then I will go right back to work. Monday is looking pretty good right now.

A meme from the Leptard and his buddy Brendan:

"[P]ost a comment and I'll give you a letter if you ask nice. Then list ten things that you like that begin with that letter. It's all about the loose letters, round here..."

Brendan gave me the letter "P," so here's my list of ten, in no particular order:

Peppermint puffs from King Leo Candy--pure sugar and peppermint oil. Yum.

"Pink" by Aerosmith.

Fiction by Sara Paretsky, Robert Parker, Anne Perry, Elizabeth Peters and Terry Pratchett.

Posting on message boards like the Great Escape, the CyberSoapBox and the Chat House.

Pooh.

Packages from friends.

Plush animals, particularly bears.

Pandas.

Penguins.

Products from Lush.

Midweek snobservations

To the tail-gating idiot in the Lexus SUV: You do know you're a jerk, right? What is there that's either sporty or utilitarian about a giant, gas-guzzling, marshmallowy SUV? Just because it's big and expensive doesn't make you exempt from safe driving, you poser.

To the family in the house on the corner of Cuyahoga & Uhler: Will you please pay some attention to your dog? You leave that poor Akita mix out there, tied up 24/7, and none of you ever pat him or cuddle him or give him one bit of the affection he undoubtedly craves. He's a dog, damnit, all they want is to please a human, and I've seen all of you walk past him repeatedly, kids and adults alike. You're breaking his heart, and ruining my commute by doing so.

To Amazon.com: You people are getting entirely too big for your britches and too sloppy about your customer service. Yes, I qualified for the free shipping. No, that doesn't mean I should have to wait until after Christmas for you to send my order, especially when every item had a little line of text reading "Receive this by November 21 with priority shipping." How exactly can I get something in four days with priority shipping and SIX WEEKS with standard free shipping? I hate you. I had Christmas presents in that now-cancelled order. Your customer service people are perfectly nice, but when they don't have the power to actually FIX things, they're as useless as all get out.

To Snoopy: How did you reach the age of thirty-eight without learning social boundaries? Sometimes, Goldilocks and I talk about girl stuff, and yes, we shut up when you bounce out of the file room and want to join in. You want details? You're going to get them. I swear, if you ask me one more dumbass personal question, I am going to start telling you every single detail of my period, followed by stabbing you in the gut so you know what the pain feels like. And when she had to take a day off for a funeral, it was REALLY tacky to say, "Whoa, how'd the family member die?"

To our stupidest client: I understand that you've had some medical problems, and that they have affected your mental functioning and your memory. But you know that too, and it seems to me that if you know about such problems, you could take notes when you talk to your attorney, instead of pestering her secretary two weeks later because you don't remember what she instructed you to do. The worst thing is that if you don't do it and wind up facing a contempt charge, you will blame her. Write it down, damnit!

To me: Don't ever again brag about what a good day you've had at 5 p.m. Remember what happened yesterday? Oh, yeah, it was a great day until you bragged about it, and then your printer jammed and one of the dogs had an accident in the living room. Brag just before bed, okay? :p

Nearly perfect

So the library is done, and beautiful.

I've lost the amount of weight my OB/Gyn wanted me to lose before she would do the hysterectomy.

All but three of the Christmas presents I need are purchased and waiting to be wrapped and mailed.

December has five Fridays, which means an extra paycheck.

Weekend after next, my baby brother is coming to Ohio from Texas for a job interview.

I'm wearing my splendid new Christmas robe.

I shall splurge on some fancy wrapping paper this weekend.

Work is productive and interesting (if a little sad right now) and we've got our Christmas lunch scheduled.

I just wish I would stop having extravagantly romantic dreams which remind me that I'm a middle-aged spinster. Grrr.

Deep in the stacks

Welcome to Casa de Jammies. Our tour today starts and ends with the recently neatened library--please note the presence of shelves and the absence of cardboard boxes!

Voilá!

Oh dear oh dear oh OOPS

Having spent the day with my books and my shelves and my catalogue*, I find that I now have 8.5 shelves left empty, which wouldn't be bad if I didn't have 10 boxes of books. I've filled the built-in shelves in the living room with hardcover books (sorry, Snick, I know you liked it with just the knick-knacks) and filled the built-in hutch over the computer with my reference books (how did I wind up with all these dictionaries?). I have a shelf in the basement which should be enough to handle the overflow (at least until the box from Amazon gets here), but I don't know where I'm going to put it. It's an old one that my dad made out of 2x4s, which I washed and painted to match my bedroom. Why not put it in the bedroom? Because all of the bedrooms in this house are dinky, and mine already has too much furniture in it. However, I may be forced to take that route when I run out of space in the library/study. The shelf certainly can't go into the guest room--I'm aiming for elegance in there, and brown 2x4s certainly aren't elegant. Not that it's all that lovely in there at the moment, with Christmas presents, boxes, wrapping paper, mailing paper, etc. strewn all over, but next weekend, I should be able to do something about that.

I'm halfway between regretting lazing away Thanksgiving Day and glad I did. On the one hand, if I had started on the books then, I'd be done by now. On the other hand, it was a good break from the chaos and craziness that so often marks my life. And my life isn't even particularly stressful--I work, I come home, I clean, yak on the phone or the internet, read, maybe rot my brain with some television, sleep. Oh, and take care of the puppymonsters, but still--I don't know how modern parents manage it. Or even people who have, you know, those "life" thingies.

I keep buying presents for people I already have presents for, and still haven't gotten anything for my middle liddle brother or my younger nephew. Ack! I know what the kidlet likes, I just don't think my brother and sister-in-law will let me live to New Year's if I buy him $25 worth of MatchBox cars. ;) He's not a stuffed-animal kind of kid, so that's out, and yes, I probably will get him some clothes and books, but since his brother is getting a toy, I want Dip to have at least one shiny cool toy too. At this point, I'm about to get my brother one of those joke sacks of coal and leave it at that, since he won't give me ANY ideas.

For all of my friends, a blessing I found today, which I send with love and hope to all of you:

"May the light always find you on a dreary day.
When you need to be home, may you always find your way.
May you always have courage to take a chance.
And may you never find frogs in your underpants."

*A friend told me cataloguing my books is "sexily geeky" and when I told her it's alphabetically by author, she swooned. *grin* Made my day.

You bring the cheese, I've got a selection of whines.

#1: I worked very hard today, and only managed to catalogue 120 or so books, empty ten boxes and fill fifteen shelves. I've got twenty-four boxes left to unpack.

#2: My skin is dry and itchy, and I know it's because of my bathing habits, but I just can't give up my nightly Lush fix.

#3: My knee is so sore it's basically locked in place.

#4: I had a dream about being wrapped in someone's arms today. It was nice while I was dreaming it, but just made me sad when I woke up.

#5: My linen closet is really much too small for someone with a severe bed linen addiction.

#6: After I unpack the rest of the book boxes tomorrow, I have to clean like a fiend so I can decorate on Sunday.

#7: My latest Lush order is only "en route to Illinois." What is up with that? Grrr.

#8: I'm really bothered by #4.

#9: Somebody spammed up the Leptard's blog page and so far nobody's fixed it. Double grrr.

That's enough whining for one day. Time for the Jammies to shut up.

police psych eval florist question

Ahhh, yes, ye old referral log. Gotta love it.

"multiple sclerosis -died -fox"

Yes, I have MS. No, I haven't died. Yes, I've been told I'm a fox. *blush*

Wow, someone in Eugene, Oregon got an url for my blog via e-mail. Now 'fess up and tell me who sent it to you. I want to know who thinks my blather is worth passing on. *grin*

"flu shot gluteus maximus"

Two of you looking for this--trust me, get your flu shots in the arm. If the nurse whacks a muscle, better that your arm be a bit sore than that you can't sit down for a day.

For the dozens of you looking for "contemporary bathrooms" on Google Image Search--how bored ARE you? I've checked out of curiosity, and my blog isn't on the first eight pages of results. You've got an awful lot of time to waste, that's all I can say!

"complaints about colyte"

Lots of complaints--it's totally disgusting, trying to keep down a gallon of salt water in eight hours. If you have to do it, you have my sincerest sympathy (and I'd recommend a 'scrip for Phenergan, too). And on a related note, to the person searching "What if colyte doesn't work," gah, what a nightmare. I can't imagine drinking that swill to no effect. I'm gonna have nightmares now, thanks.

To whoever at the Kohler company checked out my blog: You folks make awesome tubs, and I've linked to your site a few times. Care to give me a free tub for the publicity? You're getting more and more from all these people who keep pulling my blog up on Google--you'll get your money's worth in a year or so, honest, and I don't want much, just the two-person overflow jacuzzi with colored lights and the ceiling-fill spout.

"cramps diarrhea vomit worst story laxative"

Yuk. I am so not telling my worst cramps diarrhea vomit story on here--I'd like to keep my six or so readers. Go read the Best of Craigslist for that kind of stuff.

To the person from Kaiser Permanente in Walnut Creek, CA: First of all, a friend who works for Kaiser in SoCal says you've got a lot of nice weird people at your office (lots of IT geeks, I understand), so hello. Second, thank you for coming back to read my blog after your first look. Thirdly, you win the prize for most creative Google search. I'm also appalled that my blog is the seventh link when you put "police psych eval florist question" in. Finally, what did you decide were the appropriate flowers to send to someone who just flunked the psych eval for a police job? In case it ever comes up in my life, of course...

So it's been three years.

And MS is now just a part of my life, not the ruling force. The tingling in my feet, legs and hands has never left me. Some days, it's worse than others, but it's always here. Ironic, considering that it was the neuropathy that led me to a doc for diagnosis. In that, I was amazingly lucky--there are people who wait sixteen years for a diagnosis and I had one in six weeks.

Some other things I've been lucky in with regard to the MS:

My "MS Guru," Patty, who is a client, a nurse, and was diagnosed 13 years ago. She was absolutely correct--the first year is all about the MS. Working in the garden led to thoughts of "How long can I do this? IhaveMS." Flirting led to thoughts of "Should I tell him IhaveMS?" It went on, and then, thankfully, I moved on.

My neurologist, Dr. Cohen, and the rest of the cheerful and friendly staff at the Mellen Center at the Cleveland Clinic. It's worth the 45 minute drive to get up there. As an aside, I'm very glad his first nurse practioner, Nurse Tardy, retired. I thought I was going to pop a blood vessel the morning she walked in past me 20 mintues after our scheduled appointment time! The new NP is a punctual, friendly, warm person, yay!

The fact that my MS is mild, and that the resident at my GP's office just wouldn't quit until we knew what was wrong with me. Thank you, Dr. Adolph, and I hope that whatever line of medicine you chose after your time at my doc's office, you have patients who appreciate your tenacity and your capacity for listening.

The fact that the MS community is so warm and open and caring. To the folks in the local society, who made a nervous, shy stranger very welcome at that first Christmas luncheon and the folks at Jooly's Joint, who I met when I was terrified that my bout of optic neuritis was going to lead to permanent blindness in my left eye. Thank you all.

Some things I'm not thankful for:

Well, okay, I have MS. It's mild and it's in remission, but it still sucks.

The cost of my meds--$17,000/year. That's about the Federal poverty guideline for a family of three.

The MS depression which has me taking a little more Lexapro every year, when I managed my depression for 25 years without meds. I still hate that I'm dependent on a pill to keep from sleeping 24/7 when things go wrong.

So it's been three years, and I'm lucky things aren't worse, and I'm proud of me for making sure MS is just a minor part of my life, not the central facet.

4:45 p.m., November 17th, 2003

When I got home from work and checked the messages, there was an urgent one from the resident at my doctor's office who'd been treating me. Unfortunately, the office had closed at 4:30. I knew it had to be the results of the 2 MRIs I'd had the previous week--one of my brain and one of my spine. The MRIs were the culmination of six weeks of intensive testing. On September 30th, 2003, I went to the doctor because I'd had pins and needles in my feet, legs, hands and arms for over a week and they just wouldn't stop. Because I'm overweight and my grandfather was diabetic, the resident explained to me, what I was feeling was probably diabetic neuropathy, and I should have a blood test and see him in a week for the results.

When I went back in a week, the blood test showed normal sugar levels. Okay, said this bulldog resident, maybe you've got a pinched nerve. Let's do a nerve conduction test and an electromyogram. Turns out it wasn't a pinched nerve. Okay, says the resident, let's do a blood test for lupus. Nope. Wasn't lupus. This was where it started to get way scary.

The doc explained to me that we had eliminated all of the "easy" answers--testing for diabetes, lupus, a pinched nerve, he'd eliminated MS because my strength was good, etc. We were down to things like ALS (Lou Gehrig's disese) or a brain or spinal tumor, so it was time for MRIs. Somewhere I have a file where I wrote up all my impressions from inside the machine--thinking about writing it out was all that kept me sane in there. No, I'm not claustrophobic, it was BORING. 'Nuff said. Anyway, I had the MRIs on 2 successive nights, and then waited a week for answers. When my doc did have them, he called at home while I was at work.

After a night of freaking out, not sleeping, barfing, etc., I called my doctor's office the minute they opened on the 18th. The resident who'd been seeing me wasn't in, and my doctor wasn't in. I very carefully explained that I was going to work, and one of them needed to call me AT MY WORK NUMBER. When I got there, there was a message on the voice mail, left during my commute, asking me to call. When I did, the nurse asked me if I could come in right away--they had my test results.

Oh, not good. Any time they want you face-to-face, that's just not good. So I left work, flew over to the doc's office, and met with the resident and, for the first time, my primary care physician. After some distress when they saw that I was alone, and a little hemming and hawing about why I would think I had a brain tumor, my doc broke the news.

"You have multiple sclerosis."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?"

"Hmmm. Yes."

Of course, I wasn't, it just hadn't sunk in. I called my boss, told her, got permission to take the rest of the day off, went home, and cried. My tears were probably a 50/50 mix of relief that I didn't have ALS or a tumor and fear about what was in my future.

Two memes

One from Sherri:

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

And one from Jay:

RULES: Each player of this game starts off with 10 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 10 weird habits/things/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. No tagbacks.

Okay, I don't know ten people to tag, so anyone who thinks this is kind of cool is welcome to do it.

1. My eyes change color from blue to green to grey depending on my mood and/or what I'm wearing.
2. I actually love my job most of the time.
3. I ordered five pooping reindeer for Christmas--four for presents and one for me.
4. I sing to my dogs, and they each have a special song.
5. I can't seem to write fiction right now. :(
6. My bath addiction is at odds with my dry skin, but the former always wins.
7. Despite my research into their love lives, I don't actually own all that many socks.
8. The ones I do own are sorted by color and arranged in rainbow order in the drawer.
9. The only time I've turned on the television in my bedroom in the last year was to see if it still worked.
10. I'm still not convinced that there isn't a mad duck living somewhere in my basement.

O Torturous Torment!

No, I am not talking about the aches in my gluteus maximus and my right calf from two hours of mulching on Sunday.

Nor am I talking about trying to explain to a collections representative that a guardianship is more powerful than a mere power of attorney.

I'm certainly not talking about anything to do with Mr. Potato Dick.

I'm not even talking about the soul-searing anguish of discovering that I've put a hole in the heel of my neon-kitty socks.

No, I'm talking about the tortures of the damned. I have to sit here at work for another gross of minutes (yes, exactly 144 minutes) while at home, on my doorstop, is my LUSH order. It's sitting on my doorstep, lonely and waiting for me to come home, open it, sniff everything, sort all of my new stuff into the appropriate hidey-holes around the house, sigh longingly over the items I'm giving as gifts, and then, finally, take a bath with it!

This day will NEVER be over and I will NEVER get home to my Lush. *sob*















Okay, I managed to kill 4 minutes by blogging. I still want my Lush.

For those using Google to find bathroom pictures

First of all, you'd be better off checking out the Kohler gallery than reading random blogs. Most of the nightmares are in the "Traditional" section--you've been warned.

Second, if you're really that curious about the bathroom of a stranger, here are before and after pictures of mine. For those of you who don't know me, my entire interior was swathed in 1970s Mylar wallpaper when I bought this house two years ago, and I'm removing it at a rate of one room per year.

Before:



During the renovation:



After:





From frou-frou to plain jane. Any questions?

The Dog Formerly Known As

I can only conclude that my elder dog has decided to change his name. After several days of observation, I have noted that I can call "Stormy" while he is four feet from me and he will not acknowledge even my existence. However, if I call "Dinner," he can hear me from forty feet. He is undoubtedly thinking that humans are stoopid, since it took me so long to figure out the name change. Still, I can have endless moments of entertainment by petting him and saying, "Good Dinner!"

Mom and I had a great time shopping last night. Gabriel Brothers had a very poor selection of boys' clothes, so I still don't have a Christmas or birthday present for Dip, but I had great luck in finding four outfits for Baby Mathgeek (who thankfully is too young to care that she's only getting clothes). I still haven't found anything for little little brother, so the van's going to leave for Texas without a present for him, and I'll keep on looking.

My Christmas list is still about halfway done. I did go over budget last night, but mostly because I found CHRISTMAS SOCKS. They are adorable beyond belief, so I had to get a pair for all of the Christmas boxes that will be going out. Yes, Sherri, Heather, Bri, this means you. No socks for the guys, which is probably a good idea--none of the guys I know are into "cute." I still need presents for: both of my younger brothers, Scarecrow, Dip, my oldest friend in the world and our law clerk. The last one will be easy, though--he adores candy. When VL's secretary handed out bags of Halloween candy, Snoopy spread his all over his desk and sorted it just like a little kid with his loot, and then ate his favorites last. Then he went back to work on the office candy dishes. I could hate him, I really could--he's 37 and way too slim for someone who snarks down all that sugar!

The only productive thing I did today was get a haircut. After a consultation with my stylist, I came to two conclusions. My surgeon was talking out his butt when he said my hair was thinning from the anesthesia (he was looking right at the one thin spot I've had since the late '90s) and cutting my hair shorter would only accentuate the roundness of my face. I'll have to wait until my weight loss shows on my face to go with a shorter cut. I had time beforehand to go buy the rabbit ears I need for my bedroom television, but I couldn't find a RadioShack anywhere in the shopping center clearly marked on the map. By the time I got home, I was in a "screw it" sort of mood and decided I didn't even want to call them. They can do without my ten dollars for another week. Hmpf.

Of course, all the laziness today means I'll pay for it tomorrow, but oh well. Worth it. :-)

Halfway

My Lush is still halfway to Ohio.

I'm halfway to getting over Mr. Potato Dick.

Literotica has deleted my stories but not my account--only halfway there.

I'm halfway through my Christmas list.

I don't like being halfway.

A quick giggle

Vegan Lawyer's hubby stopped by to trade cars with her, and while he was waiting for her, he chatted with me for a bit. She obviously had told him about the surgery, because he asked how I was doing (very well!) and if it was a big life change for me (yes, and a good one).

VL came out of her office, and as hubs wasn't quite sure how to end the conversation, he blurted "You have pretty hair" at me and left before I could even stammer out "Thank you!"

Made me grin.

Celebration?

Nah, not so much. Okay, we've elected the first Democratic administration in years, but the election results were not unmixed for me. A friend's husband lost his race for the state house, we're stuck with our oogy state senator, and we've got two more Repugnicans adding to the stranglehold on the state Supreme Court.

On the other hand, the library levy passed without my vote, school levies in a number of municipalities passed, and we've got a smart, scholarly new judge on the 9th District Court of Appeals.

Best of all, though, was that the Jay came up with a new name for me--I am now "Frog Goddess." I cherish this title and will wear it with pride.

I wish my Lush order weren't stuck in Illinois, though. Who knows what kind of cooties it will pick up? Bleargh.

Part of the great American process

Voting, not cheese food, although if you read labels, the making of the latter is also a great American process. I think that there are probably more stringent requirements for the making of cheese food products than there are to insure the fairness and accuracy of voting, but then, I've been a cynic since 2004, when one of Bush's biggest supporters (then and now our State Secretary) supervised an Ohio election riddled with errors and inaccuracies that nevertheless delivered us to Bush, all wrapped up in a pretty red ribbon. That same jerk is running for governor--may his campaign go down in flames! I'm also rather skeptical about the accuracy of our elections given that Diebold, the maker of the electronic voting machines, is a BIG presence in Ohio, and despite numerous tests where their machines have thrown up error after error, the state insists on every precinct using them.

Even though I don't believe in the accuracy of our elections, I get out and vote every year. This year's voting was just a huge exercise in frustration, though, starting from the moment I got out of my car at the polling place.

1. None of the cars pulling out would pause for the thirty seconds it would have taken me to cross the parking lot in front of them, so I had to stand in the rain and wait for a chance to get across the lot and inside.

2. Once in there, none of the tables were marked. Thankfully, I have a loud voice, and when I asked someone for 8-B, a gentleman in the longest (of course!) line told me that was 8-B.

3. When I looked in the mirror this morning, I thought I looked kinda pretty (new hairstyle). Unfortunately, the hottie in the line with me didn't seem to think so (at least, he didn't want to flirt back). And before anyone suggests it, he wasn't gay. No gay man would have been caught dead in those shoes.

4. My ballot (and those of my neighbors, but I don't care about them) didn't have the library levy on it. Evidently despite living in "The City of," I do not live inside the city and do not get to vote for "city issues." I now feel as if I have a $150,000 house on the wrong side of the tracks.

5. The printed instructions for submitting the completed ballot left out a key instruction, leading to much frustration on my part and on the part of the lady next to me.

6. I was late to work after all that mishegoss.

Ah well, at least I voted. Then, after work, I did another fall thing--I went and got my annual flu shot. Why should the state of Ohio be the only one to cause me pain today? :p

Yay for me!

Since July 5th: 62 lbs.
Since August 3rd: 56 lbs.
Since August 23rd: 50 lbs.
Since September 7th: 33 lbs.
Since October 1st: 16 lbs.
Since November 1st: 5 lbs.

Friends

I am so blessed in my friends. Many of you know that I got my trust and my heart broken, so I'm not going to go into that again. I just wanted to say thank you to all of the wonderful people who have supported me.

Mallie, who put up with me all day at the expense of her NaNo writing.
Rob and EA and Mark, who offered to beat up the guy who hurt me (or in one case, to "nuke Chicago").
The Scarecrow, who let me see that he does have a brain, he just hides it from most folks.
Mat and SJ and EL and Selena, who said they'd miss me.
Roxanne, who tried her best to make me stay, and accepted it (eventually) when I said I can't.
Mike, who offered hugs and changed his Yahoo av to cheer me up (I :heart: Pooter).
Vella & Lucky, who tried to figure out a way to get me to Texas for Turkey Day.

I am humbled and grateful to find that I have so many wonderful and supportive friends, and I hope that I shall deserve them someday.

Oh, and to the one who said, "I hope someday you will let me be your friend again," there is only one possible answer:

In your dreams, fuckwaffle.

Snobservations again

First off, to whomever from "Chambers of Andrew Trollope QC, London, Lambeth" is surfing the interwebbinet looking for pictures of contemporary bathrooms--don't you have work to do? :p

To Bed, Bath and Beyond--you are NEVAH going to convince me that I should buy expensive cookware if you insist on showing pictures of it with BRUSSELS SPROUTS in it. Ewww, ewww, ewww, get those away from me!

To the sheriff of Summit County--dude, I voted for you because your predecessor was as corrupt as they come. Don't think one vote makes me A. a Republican or B. willing to accept your endorsements for other political offices. You just wasted thirty-nine cents plus the cost of your copier toner.

To Betty Montgomery--your track record as state auditor & state attorney is not good enough to compensate for the fact that you were a member of the state government in a position to supervise, question, and possibly even STOP Mr. Noe from plundering the Bureau of Worker's Compensation to the tune of several million dollars. I will not be voting for you or any other incumbent. I don't hate all politicians, the way your ad says, but I do hate your record of either stupidity or connivance.

And finally, to me--hey, stupid, you've got bruises on your leg and a sore neck & shoulders because you FELL Tuesday. In the cemetery, remember? Duh!

Halloween melancholy

Yesterday was road trip day. Mom had a meeting in Steubenville, so I rode along and navigated. The directions came from Dad's brand-new map program, and were a bit confusing at the end, so she wound up being about fifteen minutes late. I dropped her off and visited the Fort Steuben mall, was fairly underwhelmed and returned to the parking lot to sit in the car and read magazines. When the meeting ended, we went to the post office, then lunch, then Mom dropped a bunch of paperwork off at the county court office.

I fell off the wagon cigarette-wise last weekend, and Mom caught me smoking, so that made for a bit of a quiet drive for a while (btw, I am now back on the wagon!) as we headed out of Steubenville for Pittsburgh. The directions for this leg of the trip were flawless, and at this point, it was still sunny and reasonably warm. The sky started to cloud up as we reached the Penn Hills section of Pittsburgh, and by the time we got to Great-Aunt Cathy's house, it was raining. We were in the house only long enough to look at some pictures and for Mom to show some to Aunt Cathy, then the three of us headed out to find the Allegheny County Memorial Park. Mom's cousin Mary Lou had provided excellent directions, and we didn't have any problem until the last intersection, which was a five-way and not well-marked. Mom asked at one of the gas stations, and we found the cemetery.

Having gotten there, Mom had to do a fair bit of driving around until we found the correct portion of the cemetery, and then the real looking started. As with most cemeteries these days, this one now allows only flush-to-the-ground markers, and Mom and I had to clear leaves off about fifty of them before I located our family (to Mr. Betts--I am very sorry I tripped over your headstone and fell on your grave. I slipped in the wet leaves and caught my foot on the edge. Please forgive me). I cleared the leaves off the family stones, and Mom escorted Aunt Cathy from the car to the plots. The most recent marker is my great-uncle Ed's, from last July. Aunt Cathy talked about how she met him after his discharge from the Army during WWII. My grandmother's parents, Hattie and William, are buried there, as are my mom's twin sisters. Joyce and Nancy were born in 1937, and Nancy was stillborn. Joyce died 8 months later of SIDS, and while I never spoke with my grandmother about this, it has to have shaped the rest of her life.

About half of my grandmother and grandfather's ashes are interred with the family. Grandpa wanted his ashes scattered over the Pacific outside of Santa Barbara, where he and my grandmother had so many lovely vacations. Gramma wanted both of them to be buried with the twins and the rest of the family. She wouldn't explicitly go against Grandpa's wishes, but she couldn't bring herself to carry them out, so Grandpa's ashes stayed in the hall closet for the eight or so years between his death and hers. When she died, Mom and her brothers did the sensible thing and divided up the ashes, burying half and scattering the other half. Aunt Cathy made a reference to the family legend of Grandpa's father, whose ashes were put on a train in Pittsburgh to be buried at the family farm in Ohio. When the grieving family got to the train station--no ashes. Great-grandpa may still be riding the rails to this day, and as he worked for the railroad all his adult life, it's fitting.

On the one hand, my trip to the cemetery made me oddly happy. I was glad to have some time with Aunt Cathy, who is amazingly sweet and pretty damn sharp for 84, and glad to have grown up in a close and loving family. On the other hand, a selfish part of me looked at all those joint headstones--"Harriet & William," "John & Mary," "Edward & Catherine," and just felt like such a failure for being the only one in the family to be unmarried. *sigh*

As I'm sitting here writing this, it just occurred to me that the opening scene of the first "Night of the Living Dead" opened with a visit to a Pennsylvania graveyard on a grey and gloomy day. I'm terribly pleased I didn't think of that yesterday while we were there!

We got lost several times on the way from the cemetery to the restaurant Aunt Cathy recommended for dinner, owing to the rain, the early darkness, some vagueness from Aunt Cathy (who drives very little these days) and some inattention from the driver as she and her aunt discussed their addiction to ice cream. Dinner was lovely, even if I did eat myself sick and the restaurant was full of Steeler's memorabilia. After we dropped Aunt Cathy off at home, we got lost again trying to find the PA turnpike, and when we did, it was pouring rain, the road was full of big trucks, and it was pretty scary. When we crossed the Ohio border, we both took a deep breath, which turned out to be a mistake, as someone must have hit or scared a skunk recently. Eww. Nonetheless, the trip was much easier from that point on--the rain even stopped!

We were at Mom & Dad's by 9:40, and I was home and drying my feet by 10. All in all, it was a good, if sad, Halloween day.