Today was pretty much craptastic from the get-go. The drains in my driveway and inside the garage were blocked with maple keys and mulch that had washed out of the flower beds, so after a night of heavy rain, the garage flooded to a depth of about 4 inches before I managed to get out there and squidge around clearing the drains. There wasn't much in the garage that could be spoiled by muddy water, but my folding chairs got drenched and I can't even wash them and set them outside because it's still freaking raining.
On my way into work this morning, I discovered that some genius at ODOT thought that 8 a.m. on a weekday would be a perfect time to close the center lane of one of the main highways leading into Cleveland. A 35-yard lane closure backed traffic up seven miles and I wound up having a stress headache and being more than an hour late to work.
When I finally got to work, I discovered an error in the index for the book I was planning to build early and discovered that two of the people not in Cleveland that I nonetheless work closely with and like very much are both taking the voluntary separation offer and leaving in the next year. :(
The drive home was hideous, with lousy visibility and slow driving. The garage had drained, but to quote Jeff Foxworthy, "It stinks very much bad in there." However, I discovered a box in front of my side door from Blue Ridge Daylilies, containing a Big Foot lily plant. I haven't decided where I will plant it, but I will put the stepping stone Bigfoot and I made in front of it, wherever it goes.
Thank you very much to whoever sent this, and please 'fess up.
Confession received--it was my lovely friend Mouse from the Lush forum. Thank you, my fellow gardener who is also owned by furkids! <3
The dog I looked at is meeting a family today, so while I am sorry that I missed the opportunity, I hope she finds her forever home.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
In which we taunt an International Toe Porn Superstar
Spunky hangs out here and there are pictures here and here.
As an international sock-porn-writing superstar, I felt the need to mock and then out-do Spunky's pedicure (that orange-red is so last fall).
First I tried Nfu.Oh's #65, a silver holographic:
The holo is mesmerizing close-up, but doesn't really make me smile while I'm doing my water-walking or when I'm taking a bath or wearing sandals at work, so that one only lasted about a week.
I decided that if I was going to outshine Ms. Spunky, I needed something creative, clever and cute. I remembered a conversation between two fellow BPALettes, Yvaine and Girlygirl, and decided to try what the latter called "a fruiticure." I used OPI Holy Pink Pagoda, FingerPaints Art Dealer Teal-er and China Glaze Evening Seduction.
Awesomest toenail polish I have ever had!
As an international sock-porn-writing superstar, I felt the need to mock and then out-do Spunky's pedicure (that orange-red is so last fall).
First I tried Nfu.Oh's #65, a silver holographic:
The holo is mesmerizing close-up, but doesn't really make me smile while I'm doing my water-walking or when I'm taking a bath or wearing sandals at work, so that one only lasted about a week.
I decided that if I was going to outshine Ms. Spunky, I needed something creative, clever and cute. I remembered a conversation between two fellow BPALettes, Yvaine and Girlygirl, and decided to try what the latter called "a fruiticure." I used OPI Holy Pink Pagoda, FingerPaints Art Dealer Teal-er and China Glaze Evening Seduction.
Awesomest toenail polish I have ever had!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
How to have incredibly smooth yet furry legs
In a warm shower, scrub legs with a clean-rinsing sugar scrub, such as Julphia's Whipped Sugar Scrub or Skindecent's Body Buffer. Rinse well.
Cover legs with shaving cream or bath butter. Shave with a good razor (even if it's not the one you loved for so many years). Rinse again.
Scrub a second time with an oilier scrub, making sure to scrub your heels and toes. Rinse very well.
Finish your shower, and before drying legs completely, smooth on a body glaze, massage bar, dry oil spray or body butter.
Wrap a towel around yourself and run to answer the phone. Tell the siding salesman he's an asshole. Hang up phone, turn around and trip over needy dog in the middle of blowing coat. Ta-da! You now have the smoothest, furriest legs around.
Cover legs with shaving cream or bath butter. Shave with a good razor (even if it's not the one you loved for so many years). Rinse again.
Scrub a second time with an oilier scrub, making sure to scrub your heels and toes. Rinse very well.
Finish your shower, and before drying legs completely, smooth on a body glaze, massage bar, dry oil spray or body butter.
Wrap a towel around yourself and run to answer the phone. Tell the siding salesman he's an asshole. Hang up phone, turn around and trip over needy dog in the middle of blowing coat. Ta-da! You now have the smoothest, furriest legs around.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Aquatic Snobservations
Before the snobservations, one big cheer for the older man in my class who's there every single Saturday, doing the exercise the best he can manage before he has his second open-heart surgery. Yay Bill!
To all of the older ladies: if you've got fat on your back, don't wear a low-backed swimsuit. I'm not slamming anyone for being overweight, and I know that most of us have batwing arms, but I don't want to watch your backbacon jiggle when you're walking in front of me.
To some of the younger ladies: there is a difference between body art and white trash tattoos. Body art is exactly that, art. It's executed with skill and clarity. You should have saved up and gone for one good piece instead of getting ten or twelve blurry things that look like '90s clip art.
To the yakkers: it's nice that you're there with a friend. I enjoy Monday and Wednesday night classes just a little bit more because my mom is there with me. You will notice, however, that we do not walk slowly next to each other, so absorbed in chatting that we can't make room for faster people to walk around us. You make me want to channel my inner Jack Butler and yell "Pickups to the south, drop-offs to the North!"
To the lady who spent Wednesday's night's class humming: JUST STOP IT! That was so incredibly irritating I can't even think of something scathing to say. Save it for the shower!
To the skinny fake-blonde with the fake tan: I'm a petty, petty person, and I loved that you got turned away from the class when you showed up ten minutes late and were told you can't join the class when everyone already has their heart rate up. Oh, and I if I were you, I wouldn't wear a hot pink bikini, or any bikini for that matter, until I lost that little potbelly. I notice you haven't bothered to try to join us again, so good luck.
And to my beloved mother: I am doing this class three times a week, and I'm proud of myself. It's the first exercise program I have ever stuck with. I go even when you can't, and in two months, the only class I've missed was the night Stormdog died. Please do not nag me any more about lifting the weights you gave me for Christmas (and let's don't get started on my feelings about that) or adding in more and tougher classes at the Nat. I swear, the next time you say something, I'm going to splash water all over that what-color-is-your-hair-anyway 'do and yell something reminiscent of my horrible adolescence. I love you, but don't push. Please.
And in the non-snobby vein, I love this class, and I love that everyone gets out there and works his or her hardest to do what the instructors ask of us. Whether we're a big galloping herd of a class or a small but mighty one, I've never seen anyone who isn't trying. Yay us!
To all of the older ladies: if you've got fat on your back, don't wear a low-backed swimsuit. I'm not slamming anyone for being overweight, and I know that most of us have batwing arms, but I don't want to watch your backbacon jiggle when you're walking in front of me.
To some of the younger ladies: there is a difference between body art and white trash tattoos. Body art is exactly that, art. It's executed with skill and clarity. You should have saved up and gone for one good piece instead of getting ten or twelve blurry things that look like '90s clip art.
To the yakkers: it's nice that you're there with a friend. I enjoy Monday and Wednesday night classes just a little bit more because my mom is there with me. You will notice, however, that we do not walk slowly next to each other, so absorbed in chatting that we can't make room for faster people to walk around us. You make me want to channel my inner Jack Butler and yell "Pickups to the south, drop-offs to the North!"
To the lady who spent Wednesday's night's class humming: JUST STOP IT! That was so incredibly irritating I can't even think of something scathing to say. Save it for the shower!
To the skinny fake-blonde with the fake tan: I'm a petty, petty person, and I loved that you got turned away from the class when you showed up ten minutes late and were told you can't join the class when everyone already has their heart rate up. Oh, and I if I were you, I wouldn't wear a hot pink bikini, or any bikini for that matter, until I lost that little potbelly. I notice you haven't bothered to try to join us again, so good luck.
And to my beloved mother: I am doing this class three times a week, and I'm proud of myself. It's the first exercise program I have ever stuck with. I go even when you can't, and in two months, the only class I've missed was the night Stormdog died. Please do not nag me any more about lifting the weights you gave me for Christmas (and let's don't get started on my feelings about that) or adding in more and tougher classes at the Nat. I swear, the next time you say something, I'm going to splash water all over that what-color-is-your-hair-anyway 'do and yell something reminiscent of my horrible adolescence. I love you, but don't push. Please.
And in the non-snobby vein, I love this class, and I love that everyone gets out there and works his or her hardest to do what the instructors ask of us. Whether we're a big galloping herd of a class or a small but mighty one, I've never seen anyone who isn't trying. Yay us!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thank you all
for the love and support. I suspect I'm still a little bit in denial or something--I haven't cried at all since Monday night, and I feel sort of insulated from everything. Littlefoot didn't eat anything between Monday night and Thursday morning, but he's back to being his chowhound self. He's not straying more than six feet from me, not even to go sleep on my bed, which used to be his favorite spot in the world. Tomorrow, I have to go pick up Stormdog's ashes before I go to my water-walking class, and then I have to decide where I will keep them.
Probably in the study, because that's where I am most of the time, but I could also just move them around to all of the sunny spots in the house throughout the day.
Anyway, thanks to everyone who has supported me in this.
Probably in the study, because that's where I am most of the time, but I could also just move them around to all of the sunny spots in the house throughout the day.
Anyway, thanks to everyone who has supported me in this.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Bigfoot’s Last Day
Monday, May 11, 2009.
I stayed home from work today to be with Bigfoot and so he didn’t have to spend his last day in a cold concrete basement. I let him sleep in, offered him a breakfast he didn’t want, and made sure to massage behind his ears every time I passed him. The morning was quiet, and I did laundry and archived books, and Bigfoot mostly slept.
Around 10:30, I decided to make the concrete stepping stone with his pawprints, so I got out my bucket, the concrete mix, my letters for imprinting and started. I think I got the concrete mixed correctly, so hopefully it will come out of the mold tomorrow. I let the poured concrete sit for 30 minutes, then put it on a flat pan and carried it into the bedroom, where Bigfoot was sleeping. I picked up one of his paws and placed it in the center of the stepping stone, and Bigfoot woke up and was not at all happy. He pulled his paw out and glared at me. I tried again and this time he got up and left the room, leaving little concrete footprints on the floor.
I picked up the pan, followed him into the kitchen, smoothed out the marks and put the pan in the middle of the floor. I got the pig ears out, and bribed Bigfoot while I tried to make him stand on the concrete. What I have are two blurry impressions that won’t look very much like pawprints to anyone else, but will always remind me of how stubborn and self-willed my darling dog was. Plus, there’s some dog hair embedded in it, so if cloning ever become inexpensive…
After he’d finished his pig ear, I cleaned off his paws and let him go outside to sulk in the sunshine for a while. When he came back in, we both took a nap. I laid down on the floor beside him and rubbed his belly and his ears and told him how much I loved him.
At 4:30, I took a quick shower and put Bigfoot outside. When I was clean and dressed and made up, I let him in and put Littlefoot out, then I put Bigfoot in the car. I let Littlefoot back in and gave him a treat to distract him, then headed out with Bigfoot.
About halfway to the vet’s office, Bigfoot got himself wedged between the back seat and the back of the driver’s seat and couldn’t turn around. I stopped at a gas station and freed him, then went on to the vet hospital.
I took the urn Megan made in with me, intending to leave it and ask the staff to give it to the crematorium guys.
I let Stormdog have a nice long sniff around the yard of the hospital and then took him inside. The two receptionists working tonight were the two I had always gotten along best with, and I got hugs from both of them. Stormdog got Bil-Jac treats, and Missy offered to send the rest of the box home for Littlefoot, but I declined because he’s always on a diet.
Dr. Bob wasn’t in, as he’d had a 103 degree fever since Thursday, but Dr. Mark was there, and I trust him. He and the techs were pumping the stomach of a dog who’d eaten most of a chocolate cake, so Bigfoot had time to sniff around the lobby and I had time to show Ellen and Missy the urn. They recommended I not leave it, but they offered to transfer Bigfoot’s ashes for me if I can’t cope with doing it when they come back from the crematorium. I put Bigfoot on the scale, and his weight was 62.3 pounds. That sounds big, but at his healthiest, he was 80 pounds, so it’s a big weight loss.
Dr. Mark came upstairs and said hello to Bigfoot, then led us into the smaller exam room. He asked if I was okay with doing the shot upstairs rather than down in the surgery, and I was very pleased to avoid the surgery. I described Bigfoot’s recent symptoms, including the lethargy and what seemed to me to be partial paralysis. Dr. Mark said he was pretty sure Bigfoot had canine degenerative myelopathy, which is progressive and incurable. He also said the only good thing about it was that it’s not painful.
I sat on the floor next to my Stormdog and held him across my lap and in my arms. Missy came in and stayed with us as the tech swabbed Bigfoot’s leg with alcohol. I told him over and over how much I loved him as Dr. Mark slid the needle in and depressed the plunger. I laid my cheek on the top of his head and my right hand over his chest and just told him what an amazing, wonderful dog he was until I felt his heart stop. Dr. Mark warned me that there would be a final gasp, and there was. Everyone left the room, and I sat there with Bigfoot in my arms, petting the velvet fur and breathing in his scent. One of the many things I loved about him was that he never smelled bad unless he was soaking wet, and the smell of his fur was always warm and clean. Eventually, Ellen and Missy came in and put him on the stretcher to take him downstairs. I kissed him goodbye for the last time, and came home.
After hugging Littlefoot and letting him know how much I loved him, I got online and looked up CDM. I found one website stating unequivocally that CDM is the canine version of MS, and although Wikipedia was more restrained, it sure looks like it to me. Right to the end, Bigfoot was with me in everything.
Goodbye, darling dog. I will always love you.
I stayed home from work today to be with Bigfoot and so he didn’t have to spend his last day in a cold concrete basement. I let him sleep in, offered him a breakfast he didn’t want, and made sure to massage behind his ears every time I passed him. The morning was quiet, and I did laundry and archived books, and Bigfoot mostly slept.
Around 10:30, I decided to make the concrete stepping stone with his pawprints, so I got out my bucket, the concrete mix, my letters for imprinting and started. I think I got the concrete mixed correctly, so hopefully it will come out of the mold tomorrow. I let the poured concrete sit for 30 minutes, then put it on a flat pan and carried it into the bedroom, where Bigfoot was sleeping. I picked up one of his paws and placed it in the center of the stepping stone, and Bigfoot woke up and was not at all happy. He pulled his paw out and glared at me. I tried again and this time he got up and left the room, leaving little concrete footprints on the floor.
I picked up the pan, followed him into the kitchen, smoothed out the marks and put the pan in the middle of the floor. I got the pig ears out, and bribed Bigfoot while I tried to make him stand on the concrete. What I have are two blurry impressions that won’t look very much like pawprints to anyone else, but will always remind me of how stubborn and self-willed my darling dog was. Plus, there’s some dog hair embedded in it, so if cloning ever become inexpensive…
After he’d finished his pig ear, I cleaned off his paws and let him go outside to sulk in the sunshine for a while. When he came back in, we both took a nap. I laid down on the floor beside him and rubbed his belly and his ears and told him how much I loved him.
At 4:30, I took a quick shower and put Bigfoot outside. When I was clean and dressed and made up, I let him in and put Littlefoot out, then I put Bigfoot in the car. I let Littlefoot back in and gave him a treat to distract him, then headed out with Bigfoot.
About halfway to the vet’s office, Bigfoot got himself wedged between the back seat and the back of the driver’s seat and couldn’t turn around. I stopped at a gas station and freed him, then went on to the vet hospital.
I took the urn Megan made in with me, intending to leave it and ask the staff to give it to the crematorium guys.
I let Stormdog have a nice long sniff around the yard of the hospital and then took him inside. The two receptionists working tonight were the two I had always gotten along best with, and I got hugs from both of them. Stormdog got Bil-Jac treats, and Missy offered to send the rest of the box home for Littlefoot, but I declined because he’s always on a diet.
Dr. Bob wasn’t in, as he’d had a 103 degree fever since Thursday, but Dr. Mark was there, and I trust him. He and the techs were pumping the stomach of a dog who’d eaten most of a chocolate cake, so Bigfoot had time to sniff around the lobby and I had time to show Ellen and Missy the urn. They recommended I not leave it, but they offered to transfer Bigfoot’s ashes for me if I can’t cope with doing it when they come back from the crematorium. I put Bigfoot on the scale, and his weight was 62.3 pounds. That sounds big, but at his healthiest, he was 80 pounds, so it’s a big weight loss.
Dr. Mark came upstairs and said hello to Bigfoot, then led us into the smaller exam room. He asked if I was okay with doing the shot upstairs rather than down in the surgery, and I was very pleased to avoid the surgery. I described Bigfoot’s recent symptoms, including the lethargy and what seemed to me to be partial paralysis. Dr. Mark said he was pretty sure Bigfoot had canine degenerative myelopathy, which is progressive and incurable. He also said the only good thing about it was that it’s not painful.
I sat on the floor next to my Stormdog and held him across my lap and in my arms. Missy came in and stayed with us as the tech swabbed Bigfoot’s leg with alcohol. I told him over and over how much I loved him as Dr. Mark slid the needle in and depressed the plunger. I laid my cheek on the top of his head and my right hand over his chest and just told him what an amazing, wonderful dog he was until I felt his heart stop. Dr. Mark warned me that there would be a final gasp, and there was. Everyone left the room, and I sat there with Bigfoot in my arms, petting the velvet fur and breathing in his scent. One of the many things I loved about him was that he never smelled bad unless he was soaking wet, and the smell of his fur was always warm and clean. Eventually, Ellen and Missy came in and put him on the stretcher to take him downstairs. I kissed him goodbye for the last time, and came home.
After hugging Littlefoot and letting him know how much I loved him, I got online and looked up CDM. I found one website stating unequivocally that CDM is the canine version of MS, and although Wikipedia was more restrained, it sure looks like it to me. Right to the end, Bigfoot was with me in everything.
Goodbye, darling dog. I will always love you.
Friday, May 08, 2009
When you can't nap, bubble-wrap!
Okay, it's silly, but it broke the tension when my cubicle neighbor was having a wretched day with one of his books. He had just said that he was trying not to throw his pen at the window, so I offered him some bubble wrap I had for a package for a friend. All I had was just the kind with the little bubbles--he had a piece of the industrial-strength stuff in his desk, and he took a few minutes to pop the last of them and he went back to wrestling with his book feeling at least marginally better, either from the silliness or the destructiveness.
Not even bubble wrap could keep me from coming home today with a severe stomachache. Bigfoot continues to have one step forward, two step back days and two of my coworkers are making me nuts, and this stupid task force I'm on is complicating what should be a very simple process into something with its own website and forms and all sorts of silly hooha.
Other than water-walking tomorrow morning and working for Mom on Sunday, I will be spending this weekend quietly at home with my dogs. I'm so frazzled I can't even remember what clothes I wore to work today and if I put on perfume!
ETA: I want to thank everyone for the love and support. It helps.
Not even bubble wrap could keep me from coming home today with a severe stomachache. Bigfoot continues to have one step forward, two step back days and two of my coworkers are making me nuts, and this stupid task force I'm on is complicating what should be a very simple process into something with its own website and forms and all sorts of silly hooha.
Other than water-walking tomorrow morning and working for Mom on Sunday, I will be spending this weekend quietly at home with my dogs. I'm so frazzled I can't even remember what clothes I wore to work today and if I put on perfume!
ETA: I want to thank everyone for the love and support. It helps.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
And juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust to make a liar of me...
Bigfoot is frisking around like a puppy (granted, a puppy with lousy hips), asking for thirds on dinner, picking playfights with Littlefoot, jumping up on the bed to soak the comforter with doggy-scented rainwater and rolling over for bellehrubs.
I love seeing him like this, but now I'm really damned if I know what to do.
I love seeing him like this, but now I'm really damned if I know what to do.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Second thoughts, third thoughts, fourth thoughts...
Bigfoot hasn't been a happy dog for a while now. He's not obviously in pain, he's not crying any more than usual, he's just extra quiet and sort of resigned. I've made an appointment for Monday evening with Dr. Bob, and there's a pretty good chance that I'll decide to have my heartdog put to sleep. I still keep worrying, though, that I'm doing the wrong thing. I don't want to tie him to life if he's ready to go, but if he's not ready, then I will be killing one of the best things that has ever happened to me. And it's not as if I can change my mind when it's done. I'm so scared that I'll do the wrong thing for Bigfoot.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
So pastoral...
It is, of course, gardening time. I would be posting nine zillion pictures of my garden if I hadn't loaned my camera to Vintage Attorney for the weekend. This lack of a camera is also why I have not followed up on my toenail polish challenge to Spunky, the Queen of Toe Porn. As soon as I have my camera back, though, I plan to show that there are prettier polishes out there and no one needs to settle for orange.
Yesterday was busy but fun. Doc joined me for water-walking, then we sat in the whirlpool (not the hot tub) for a bit and yakked. After we'd dried and dressed, we went to an AutoZone parking lot, where I handed the fugly old ceiling fan/light fixture from the study to a gentleman who handed me $25 in cash. After that, we went to Mariachi Loco for lunch, and then to Temptation Nursery. I used the cash from the ceiling fan to buy two Snow-in-Summer, three Munstead lavender and a Purple Dragon Lamium. I will be going back to TN repeatedly over the summer, as I need more lamium, more lavender, some foxglove and whatever else I can afford. Doc has to go back too, because she didn't have her checkbook and TN doesn't take plastic. She's planning to follow in my footsteps and take her mom there to pick out a Mother's Day present anyway, so that's good.
On the subject of my title line, recently I looked out the back door on a sunny day. As those of you who have visited me know, the back yard sweeps down to the north property line, and although it's mostly weeds, it is very green at this time of year. As I looked, I could see a fluffy thing peacefully cropping the green grass under the bright blue sky. It was a scene that demanded the music from a Ralph and Sam short. If anyone knows the name of that piece of music, please let me know--I'm pretty sure it's by Grieg, but can't remember and can't find the name!
Anyway, the fluffy thing eating grass was not a sheep, but my beloved and not all that smart Littlefoot.
Yesterday was busy but fun. Doc joined me for water-walking, then we sat in the whirlpool (not the hot tub) for a bit and yakked. After we'd dried and dressed, we went to an AutoZone parking lot, where I handed the fugly old ceiling fan/light fixture from the study to a gentleman who handed me $25 in cash. After that, we went to Mariachi Loco for lunch, and then to Temptation Nursery. I used the cash from the ceiling fan to buy two Snow-in-Summer, three Munstead lavender and a Purple Dragon Lamium. I will be going back to TN repeatedly over the summer, as I need more lamium, more lavender, some foxglove and whatever else I can afford. Doc has to go back too, because she didn't have her checkbook and TN doesn't take plastic. She's planning to follow in my footsteps and take her mom there to pick out a Mother's Day present anyway, so that's good.
On the subject of my title line, recently I looked out the back door on a sunny day. As those of you who have visited me know, the back yard sweeps down to the north property line, and although it's mostly weeds, it is very green at this time of year. As I looked, I could see a fluffy thing peacefully cropping the green grass under the bright blue sky. It was a scene that demanded the music from a Ralph and Sam short. If anyone knows the name of that piece of music, please let me know--I'm pretty sure it's by Grieg, but can't remember and can't find the name!
Anyway, the fluffy thing eating grass was not a sheep, but my beloved and not all that smart Littlefoot.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Walkyblog*
At 3:30 Saturday morning, I woke up with a migraine. I had about 30 seconds to think, "Couldn't this have waited 24 hours?" before I had to barf. I took a hot shower and half-dozed in my recliner until 6, when the pain was worse but the nausea was better. I had another hot shower, let the dogs in and out, took 2 ibuprofen and tried to drink a little bit of coffee. When that didn't stay down, I gave up and got dressed and just sat quietly until it was time to leave to meet Mom.
I dropped my car off for an oil change and Mom picked me up and we headed for Blossom, where the walk was taking place. We were so early that we managed to walk the 1.25 mile route twice before they officially opened the event. Mom was getting coffee and bagels, and I was taking cautious sips of water and washing down 2 T3s when the DJ from WKDD welcomed everyone and introduced our state representative, who worked with me at Hyphenated Corp. until he got elected. He and Mom have a friend in common, so I introduced them and we talked for a bit. Then the local high school marching band arrived, and Mom and I stayed to listen to one song and then headed out.
The bit I forgot earlier, which I also blame on the drugs:
I try to be a reasonably nice and tactful person, but I blew that when Mom and I were getting into her car. A woman in a minivan had just pulled in to the space next to Mom and was unloading her pre-teen daughter and an adorable and very rambunctious 9- or 10-month old golden retriever puppy. The puppy jumped up on me, and I ruffled his ears and said, "Aren't you a cute boy, but aren't you going to get in trouble for jumping on me?" The woman glared at me and said, "Yes, he is." I apologized for rewarding him for being bad, which was ALSO the wrong thing to say, and she hauled him off with her kid after glaring at me again.
My car was ready, so Mom waited while I stopped in the office and paid the bill, and then I talked her into going to what Sherri calls "Temptations Nursery," which had just opened for the spring/summer season. I made Mom pick out her Mother's Day present, and she chose a beautiful Martha Washington geranium with deep purple petals edged in white. For someone who was awfully reluctant to "waste time" at the nursery, she sure enjoyed looking when we got there!
By then the T3s were kicking in, so we dropped my car off at my house and drove in to the office. We balanced an accounting, I checked the phone messages, went through the mail and did the rest of my weekly stuff, and then Dad came in to install the new printer for the assistants' desk. He also brought me 2 Phenergan to help with the nausea that was still bothering me. By the time Dad was done, we'd been there for 4 hours, and Mom brought me home. I went to bed shortly after letting the dogs out, and Mom washed some more wallpaper paste off walls. I never even heard her leave. I woke up around six with a headache but not a migraine, and was glad to call it a day.
On Sunday, I ran up and down the stairs doing laundry and painted my toenails. The stairs after the walk on Saturday weren't quite enough exercise to keep my muscles from protesting strenuously tonight at water-walking, but I still made it through the whole hour.
*joke that only Zayrina may get.
I dropped my car off for an oil change and Mom picked me up and we headed for Blossom, where the walk was taking place. We were so early that we managed to walk the 1.25 mile route twice before they officially opened the event. Mom was getting coffee and bagels, and I was taking cautious sips of water and washing down 2 T3s when the DJ from WKDD welcomed everyone and introduced our state representative, who worked with me at Hyphenated Corp. until he got elected. He and Mom have a friend in common, so I introduced them and we talked for a bit. Then the local high school marching band arrived, and Mom and I stayed to listen to one song and then headed out.
The bit I forgot earlier, which I also blame on the drugs:
I try to be a reasonably nice and tactful person, but I blew that when Mom and I were getting into her car. A woman in a minivan had just pulled in to the space next to Mom and was unloading her pre-teen daughter and an adorable and very rambunctious 9- or 10-month old golden retriever puppy. The puppy jumped up on me, and I ruffled his ears and said, "Aren't you a cute boy, but aren't you going to get in trouble for jumping on me?" The woman glared at me and said, "Yes, he is." I apologized for rewarding him for being bad, which was ALSO the wrong thing to say, and she hauled him off with her kid after glaring at me again.
My car was ready, so Mom waited while I stopped in the office and paid the bill, and then I talked her into going to what Sherri calls "Temptations Nursery," which had just opened for the spring/summer season. I made Mom pick out her Mother's Day present, and she chose a beautiful Martha Washington geranium with deep purple petals edged in white. For someone who was awfully reluctant to "waste time" at the nursery, she sure enjoyed looking when we got there!
By then the T3s were kicking in, so we dropped my car off at my house and drove in to the office. We balanced an accounting, I checked the phone messages, went through the mail and did the rest of my weekly stuff, and then Dad came in to install the new printer for the assistants' desk. He also brought me 2 Phenergan to help with the nausea that was still bothering me. By the time Dad was done, we'd been there for 4 hours, and Mom brought me home. I went to bed shortly after letting the dogs out, and Mom washed some more wallpaper paste off walls. I never even heard her leave. I woke up around six with a headache but not a migraine, and was glad to call it a day.
On Sunday, I ran up and down the stairs doing laundry and painted my toenails. The stairs after the walk on Saturday weren't quite enough exercise to keep my muscles from protesting strenuously tonight at water-walking, but I still made it through the whole hour.
*joke that only Zayrina may get.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Sorry for the Spam and other random ramblings
If you're my friend on Goodreads, sorry for the giant e-mail with the 168 books I added to my shelves tonight. I'm down to The Last Shelf of Books, which I plan to add and pack tomorrow night.
If you're not my friend on Goodreads, why not? :P I'm Jammies there, too.
It's been a busy week at work. I got a $15 gift card for Starbucks as a reward for taking on an extra project and doing a good job, and won one of the reserved parking spaces in a random drawing. Still, I have felt like a guinea pig on a hamster wheel--I don't fit, I don't know where I'm going, and I never seem to get there.
The water-walking is really going well. I'd have to say that this is the first time I've felt that I have an exercise plan I can stick with. This Saturday will mark the first class I will miss on one of the three days I tell myself to go every week. Of course, that's because this Saturday, Mom and I will be doing the 3-mile MS Walk, followed by working together for 4 hours. Then we'll come back here and she's planning to take the rest of the wallpaper off the study walls and I am going to take a nap!
One thing that occurred to me on my way home tonight: it's still very weird to me to see a Roadway semi cab hauling Yellow trailers. Plaid Jammies worked for Roadway most of the time we were growing up, and Yellow was the big bad rival. Roadway was a pretty good employer--there were company picnics, a kickass health plan, lots of things that made it a great company for Dad to work for back then. Of course, it may just have been the times and all companies in the '70s and '80s had that level of care for their employees, but it's pretty much gone from everywhere these days.
Right now, however, I'm only interested in huffing my wrists to smell my gorgeous dandelion BPAL and heading off to bed.
If you're not my friend on Goodreads, why not? :P I'm Jammies there, too.
It's been a busy week at work. I got a $15 gift card for Starbucks as a reward for taking on an extra project and doing a good job, and won one of the reserved parking spaces in a random drawing. Still, I have felt like a guinea pig on a hamster wheel--I don't fit, I don't know where I'm going, and I never seem to get there.
The water-walking is really going well. I'd have to say that this is the first time I've felt that I have an exercise plan I can stick with. This Saturday will mark the first class I will miss on one of the three days I tell myself to go every week. Of course, that's because this Saturday, Mom and I will be doing the 3-mile MS Walk, followed by working together for 4 hours. Then we'll come back here and she's planning to take the rest of the wallpaper off the study walls and I am going to take a nap!
One thing that occurred to me on my way home tonight: it's still very weird to me to see a Roadway semi cab hauling Yellow trailers. Plaid Jammies worked for Roadway most of the time we were growing up, and Yellow was the big bad rival. Roadway was a pretty good employer--there were company picnics, a kickass health plan, lots of things that made it a great company for Dad to work for back then. Of course, it may just have been the times and all companies in the '70s and '80s had that level of care for their employees, but it's pretty much gone from everywhere these days.
Right now, however, I'm only interested in huffing my wrists to smell my gorgeous dandelion BPAL and heading off to bed.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Push the button, Max!
I had forgotten how much I enjoy watching The Great Race. Dad bought a copy recently, and we watched it when my brother, SIL and the boys were up for Easter last weekend. Dad's favorite scene is the pie fight, and the boys loved the whole movie. Mom said they were saying "Push the button, Max!" all day on Sunday. I'm pretty sure that the "Austrian Folly" detour on The Amazing Race. One of my favorite shows paying tribute to one of my favorite movies--perfect!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Busy in a good way.
If you were to look objectively at my schedule for the next 90 days, it wouldn't look as if I had a lot of work. I'm responsible for maybe 4 books in the next three months. However, because two of my co-workers are out, I've been picking up the slack on several books that are not on my list, and have been cramming work into my workdays.
I've gotten all kinds of warm appreciation from the attorney editor whose books I'm doing, which is nice. I've also asked my team to let me know if I seem to be having more cognitive lapses than usual. Despite the fact that I have lived with tingling in my hands and feet since September of 2003, my neuro decreed that my GP hadn't given me a high enough dose of Neurontin and I should try it again, slowly increasing the dose until I'm up to 400 mgs/day.
The catch? One of the potential side effects is cognitive problems. I'm trying it because there's an inexpensive generic, but I have to wonder why my neuro is deciding that even though there's nothing he can prescribe for my cognitive problems I need a med for a symptom I've lived with for almost six years.
Speaking of doctors, I went to make my annual appointment with Hot Doctor for my girly parts checkup and found out that he has gone to a different practice. Okay, he's worth following. Then I found out that he is now in practice with the doctor who thought my request for a hysterectomy should be answered with "When you lose weight, you'll be pretty and normal, and you might meet Mr. Right and want to have his babies. I cannot allow you to do this." Aargh. I went ahead and set the appointment, specifically requesting a time when she is NOT there. We'll see. It's been two years, but it still bugs me.
Oh, and a work funny: I made parmesan and basil scones on Sunday and took them into work on Monday. I was walking past the Big Boss's office on my way to the bathroom and heard her say to someone on the phone, "Do you like basil? Jammies just brought in some really delicous scones." *blush* About twenty minutes later, I got an e-mail from a co-worker at the Rochester office saying "I hear you make a mean scone."
My answer? "They're not mean, they're just misunderstood." I kill me.
I've gotten all kinds of warm appreciation from the attorney editor whose books I'm doing, which is nice. I've also asked my team to let me know if I seem to be having more cognitive lapses than usual. Despite the fact that I have lived with tingling in my hands and feet since September of 2003, my neuro decreed that my GP hadn't given me a high enough dose of Neurontin and I should try it again, slowly increasing the dose until I'm up to 400 mgs/day.
The catch? One of the potential side effects is cognitive problems. I'm trying it because there's an inexpensive generic, but I have to wonder why my neuro is deciding that even though there's nothing he can prescribe for my cognitive problems I need a med for a symptom I've lived with for almost six years.
Speaking of doctors, I went to make my annual appointment with Hot Doctor for my girly parts checkup and found out that he has gone to a different practice. Okay, he's worth following. Then I found out that he is now in practice with the doctor who thought my request for a hysterectomy should be answered with "When you lose weight, you'll be pretty and normal, and you might meet Mr. Right and want to have his babies. I cannot allow you to do this." Aargh. I went ahead and set the appointment, specifically requesting a time when she is NOT there. We'll see. It's been two years, but it still bugs me.
Oh, and a work funny: I made parmesan and basil scones on Sunday and took them into work on Monday. I was walking past the Big Boss's office on my way to the bathroom and heard her say to someone on the phone, "Do you like basil? Jammies just brought in some really delicous scones." *blush* About twenty minutes later, I got an e-mail from a co-worker at the Rochester office saying "I hear you make a mean scone."
My answer? "They're not mean, they're just misunderstood." I kill me.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Two women, five degrees, one combination lock...
and the lock defeated both of us.
Mom had a horrible day, I had a bleah-ish Monday, and we both really needed our workout tonight. I am really pleased with the water walking, and I think that this is something I can stick with. I'm also offering guest memberships to JammiesFest attendees for any nights that my water class is held while I have guests. I won't skip my class, but I'll be happy to share the Natatorium!
The one good thing that happened today was that when I turned in my 2009 goals, my team lead said that she'd like to copy one of them and put it on everyone's goals AND she didn't change a single word. Yay me!
Oh, and Mom's going to ask Dad to get a key lock for our locker, lol.
Mom had a horrible day, I had a bleah-ish Monday, and we both really needed our workout tonight. I am really pleased with the water walking, and I think that this is something I can stick with. I'm also offering guest memberships to JammiesFest attendees for any nights that my water class is held while I have guests. I won't skip my class, but I'll be happy to share the Natatorium!
The one good thing that happened today was that when I turned in my 2009 goals, my team lead said that she'd like to copy one of them and put it on everyone's goals AND she didn't change a single word. Yay me!
Oh, and Mom's going to ask Dad to get a key lock for our locker, lol.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
More ow-inna-good-way
As usual, Mom and I underestimated the amount of prep work my study will need before it can be painted. She and I worked together Saturday morning, then came over here to get started. I archived and boxed books, Mom moved boxes and bookshelves and tore down wallpaper, and Dad came over to remove the pretty-but-essentially-lightless ceiling fan. Dad kept telling me what a good quality piece it was, but at a maximum of 4 25-watt bulbs hidden behind white glass, it didn't give off nearly enough light. So it's boxed up and awaiting either sale or donation. I've decided on my paint colors, based on the blue-and-white of Delft-style china, and I'm down to the last two shelving units. I boxed up almost 400 books this weekend, and may do some more tonight (although I should in fact be putting away laundry).
Yesterday, in sunny Dallas, it was 38 degrees and the Mathgeek-Crossword family did the MS Walk. I have a lovely picture of Bookworm Mathgeek wearing her free t-shirt as a scarf, and one of Tinkerbell and Princess Mathgeek all wrapped up and sitting in a little red wagon. Thank you, my wonderful family. <3
Tomorrow is headless chicken day at work, but I have water walking to look forward to, and afterwards I will either finish up the book-boxing or actually put the laundry away!
Yesterday, in sunny Dallas, it was 38 degrees and the Mathgeek-Crossword family did the MS Walk. I have a lovely picture of Bookworm Mathgeek wearing her free t-shirt as a scarf, and one of Tinkerbell and Princess Mathgeek all wrapped up and sitting in a little red wagon. Thank you, my wonderful family. <3
Tomorrow is headless chicken day at work, but I have water walking to look forward to, and afterwards I will either finish up the book-boxing or actually put the laundry away!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Ow in a good way
I started a new exercise program last night, and I think it's one I can stick with for a long time. Hyphenated Corp will reimburse employees for a one-year gym or health club membership, so I joined the city natatorium. Last night, I went to my first water walking class, and I'm really impressed. I worked every single muscle in my legs and most of the rest of my muscles, had so much fun and worked so hard the hour just flew by, and got to indulge my waterbaby Cancerian otterish side. I'm now thinking about investing in a more sportish swimsuit. The one I have is cute and flattering, but the tank-style top doesn't restrain my built-in flotation devices as well as a T-strap top would.
A big advantage to the water exercise is that the cognitive effects aren't the only MS-related problems I've been having. When I saw my neuro last month, my balance was so bad after the first few tests that the nurse skipped the final balance test. In the water, if I fall over, I'm not going to hurt myself, so I felt safe in trying everything. I do need to work on my jogging/fast walking, because I noticed last night that the minute I speed up my pace, I start using my toes instead of my whole foot. I think next week I will slow down until hitting heel first is completely habitual and then I will start speeding up. Even if this is the only way I ever jog, that's no reason to get into bad habits!
The only thing I didn't do was quack during one of the exercises. For now, I will save my quacking for when I am among friends.
A big advantage to the water exercise is that the cognitive effects aren't the only MS-related problems I've been having. When I saw my neuro last month, my balance was so bad after the first few tests that the nurse skipped the final balance test. In the water, if I fall over, I'm not going to hurt myself, so I felt safe in trying everything. I do need to work on my jogging/fast walking, because I noticed last night that the minute I speed up my pace, I start using my toes instead of my whole foot. I think next week I will slow down until hitting heel first is completely habitual and then I will start speeding up. Even if this is the only way I ever jog, that's no reason to get into bad habits!
The only thing I didn't do was quack during one of the exercises. For now, I will save my quacking for when I am among friends.
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