Three posts in one day!
I am at the moment by myself in a large computer lab, 'cause everyone else has better stuff to do at 7 on a Friday night. So do I, as it happens. I'm outta here shortly.
Why am I blogging from here? 'Cause my laptop is throwing fits. I'll be going along, playing a game, reading my email, writing a blog entry, and suddenly for a few seconds it freezes. It's almost like the machine gets a cramp. This used to happen very rarely, so rarely that I didn't take it to get serviced -- because I couldn't be sure it would do it for the tech guys and I didn't want them to think I was a nut. Now it's happening about once every half hour.
And now Circuit City is going out of business and I have no idea what this does to my protection plan. I'm also pretty sure the plan's about to run out. Laptop is old. It was old when I bought it -- it was the floor model, so I got it at a reduced price with the knowledge that it had been on and operating for most of its time in the store. Think it's time for a new one? Maybe.
It'll have to wait until I get my tax refund, and considering my taxes just got more complicated, I don't know how long that will be. Now I have PMI and mortgage interest to declare as write-offs. I think I have to use 1040-long form this year. Eeeee! I'm a grown-up!
So anywho, that's why I'm alone in a computer lab on a Friday evening. Now I'm taking myself off to dinner (just got paid! Woo-hoo!) and am heading home. Here's hoping Creepy McSmarmypants doesn't try his "hey-baby-I'm-in-the-book" nonsense on the bus tonight. It's been a grump-making kind of day, and the filter between my mind and mouth isn't fitting as snugly as it should.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Sometimes work seems like a Fry and Laurie sketch
I found fragments of this post buried in my drafts section. Thought I might as well post it, (after some editing) 'cause even though it is a little out of date, it's still true.
Backstory: The Chief Loon and I both work at the same library. She works in Lending, I work in Cataloging. One of my projects is to barcode volumes of serial titles. The long-range goal is to make sure everything in our library has a barcode attached to it and is in the system. Most of the books are done, but there are thousands of periodical volumes that aren't barcoded. Right now I'm working on a list given to me by someone in another department, because she needs these specific things done for another project.
Anyway, I'd just bumped into a run of volumes that had been put into phase boxes as extra protection for them--they were old and fragile. Not old or fragile enough for Special Collections, I guess. I'd picked up a box in the run and thought it much lighter than its brothers. I had a feeling it was empty. I was right. No book in the box, nor was it anywhere on the shelf or on any of the shelves nearby. I checked in sorting areas, on tables, on the trucks at the ends of rows, by photocopiers--nothing. My last guess at where it could be (besides being stolen, which is probably what happened to it) is to go into the Dewey section of the library, because even though the boxes had Library of Congress numbers on them, the volumes themselves still had their old Dewey decimal numbers. On my way to the Dewey section I passed the circulation desk, where the Chief was on duty:
Chief Loon: Hi there!
Me: Hi. Look at this. [I show her empty box] I think someone stole this book.
CL: Oh, dear.
M: Yeah. I looked all over the place for it, can't find it. My last hope is that someone put it in the Deweys.
CL: Well, that's an idea. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.
Me: Me too. Fingers, toes, knees, eyes...going to be hard to walk. Well, maybe not eyes. What if I find it with crossed eyes? Then we'll have two. We don't need a duplicate.
CL: Besides, if you go around crossing your i's you'll have to start dotting your t's.
Me: Well, I was cataloging Yiddish materials this morning...*
CL: There you are. [turns to a patron who's just walked up to the desk] Hi! May I help you?
Ah, yes. The absurdist conversation. Another reason I love living in a college town.
And no, I never did find the book.
*See this chart. Middle of the third row, letter called "samekh"
Backstory: The Chief Loon and I both work at the same library. She works in Lending, I work in Cataloging. One of my projects is to barcode volumes of serial titles. The long-range goal is to make sure everything in our library has a barcode attached to it and is in the system. Most of the books are done, but there are thousands of periodical volumes that aren't barcoded. Right now I'm working on a list given to me by someone in another department, because she needs these specific things done for another project.
Anyway, I'd just bumped into a run of volumes that had been put into phase boxes as extra protection for them--they were old and fragile. Not old or fragile enough for Special Collections, I guess. I'd picked up a box in the run and thought it much lighter than its brothers. I had a feeling it was empty. I was right. No book in the box, nor was it anywhere on the shelf or on any of the shelves nearby. I checked in sorting areas, on tables, on the trucks at the ends of rows, by photocopiers--nothing. My last guess at where it could be (besides being stolen, which is probably what happened to it) is to go into the Dewey section of the library, because even though the boxes had Library of Congress numbers on them, the volumes themselves still had their old Dewey decimal numbers. On my way to the Dewey section I passed the circulation desk, where the Chief was on duty:
Chief Loon: Hi there!
Me: Hi. Look at this. [I show her empty box] I think someone stole this book.
CL: Oh, dear.
M: Yeah. I looked all over the place for it, can't find it. My last hope is that someone put it in the Deweys.
CL: Well, that's an idea. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.
Me: Me too. Fingers, toes, knees, eyes...going to be hard to walk. Well, maybe not eyes. What if I find it with crossed eyes? Then we'll have two. We don't need a duplicate.
CL: Besides, if you go around crossing your i's you'll have to start dotting your t's.
Me: Well, I was cataloging Yiddish materials this morning...*
CL: There you are. [turns to a patron who's just walked up to the desk] Hi! May I help you?
Ah, yes. The absurdist conversation. Another reason I love living in a college town.
And no, I never did find the book.
*See this chart. Middle of the third row, letter called "samekh"
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Ew
I'm on the bus, headed home after a trip to a craft store and a grocery store. As we round the corner onto the street ahead of mine, I glance around at my fellow passengers and see an odd-looking man with long black hair and a brown leather jacket. He's gazing at me with a look that can only be described as knowing. I quickly look away and make very sure I don't look at him again. That would only be asking for trouble.
Too late.
"Do you take this bus often?"
I look up. He's standing right in front of me, on his way out of the bus.
"Mm-hmm."
"Well, I'll catch you next time. My name is [first name]. [First name, last name]. I'm in the book. Give me a call."
And then he strut-swaggers (swagger-struts?) out the door. I catch the eye of the woman across the aisle from me.
"I don't think so," I say after the door closes. She shakes her head and smiles in sympathy.
So now I'm going to be on the look-out for this dude every bus trip, without seeming to be looking for him or recognizing him. I'm hoping he a) forgets me or b) takes a hint from my lack of phone call.
Sigh. I must be some sort of beacon for weird guys on the bus. It almost makes me nostalgic for Twitch. Almost.
On an unrelated note: My blog turned three yesterday. Aside from attending school and being a member of a children's choir (I sang with them from ages 8-12. Had to quit when I turned 13, because the conductor had a rule about no high school children in her choir. I was very sorry to go), this is the longest I've stuck with anything.
And guess what! Momo-Mama referred to me in her blog!
Too late.
"Do you take this bus often?"
I look up. He's standing right in front of me, on his way out of the bus.
"Mm-hmm."
"Well, I'll catch you next time. My name is [first name]. [First name, last name]. I'm in the book. Give me a call."
And then he strut-swaggers (swagger-struts?) out the door. I catch the eye of the woman across the aisle from me.
"I don't think so," I say after the door closes. She shakes her head and smiles in sympathy.
So now I'm going to be on the look-out for this dude every bus trip, without seeming to be looking for him or recognizing him. I'm hoping he a) forgets me or b) takes a hint from my lack of phone call.
Sigh. I must be some sort of beacon for weird guys on the bus. It almost makes me nostalgic for Twitch. Almost.
On an unrelated note: My blog turned three yesterday. Aside from attending school and being a member of a children's choir (I sang with them from ages 8-12. Had to quit when I turned 13, because the conductor had a rule about no high school children in her choir. I was very sorry to go), this is the longest I've stuck with anything.
And guess what! Momo-Mama referred to me in her blog!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
"There's always more work to do."
We interrupt this blog for a brief political message.
If you don't want to watch it, go here for some nice Irish step-dancing, but please do come back. I don't generally do politics, mainly because my family's a mixed-party family, and I'm probably not going to write about it again any time soon. Someone tweeted me the following, and the whole time I watched it I was nodding and saying, "yep."
We now return you to your regular blog. Thank you.
If you don't want to watch it, go here for some nice Irish step-dancing, but please do come back. I don't generally do politics, mainly because my family's a mixed-party family, and I'm probably not going to write about it again any time soon. Someone tweeted me the following, and the whole time I watched it I was nodding and saying, "yep."
We now return you to your regular blog. Thank you.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Ow-woooooo!
Just a teeny tiny post for now. I have a fifteen minute break and nobody to talk to, so I'm blogging. Don't you feel lucky?
I'm a one-woman serials cataloging team today. Everyone else is either on vacation, out sick, or not due in until March (Deena's on a 10-month contract). I's lonely. Pretty sure I just saw a tumbleweed blow by.
I've been spending the day barcoding stuff in the stacks 'cause it's freakin' cold in my cubicle, and yesterday I found out where all the heat is: stack level 2A. That's where I've been most of the morning. Came back for lunch and to input the barcodes from this morning, and after I hit publish I'm headed back over there.
Is it the weekend yet?
I don't know why I'm wishing the day away. There's a massive project headed my way, coming in from another campus. It's due here on Monday. It was Deena's project originally, but they kept pushing the start date back, and now she's gone for two months so it's mine. Huzzah. It's huge, and it has to get out quickly because the room they're going to be storing things is sort of earmarked for something else that should be arriving soon. I suppose I should enjoy the quiet while it lasts, 'cause next week I'm going to be a bit frenzied.
Well, break's over. Back to work.
I'm a one-woman serials cataloging team today. Everyone else is either on vacation, out sick, or not due in until March (Deena's on a 10-month contract). I's lonely. Pretty sure I just saw a tumbleweed blow by.
I've been spending the day barcoding stuff in the stacks 'cause it's freakin' cold in my cubicle, and yesterday I found out where all the heat is: stack level 2A. That's where I've been most of the morning. Came back for lunch and to input the barcodes from this morning, and after I hit publish I'm headed back over there.
Is it the weekend yet?
I don't know why I'm wishing the day away. There's a massive project headed my way, coming in from another campus. It's due here on Monday. It was Deena's project originally, but they kept pushing the start date back, and now she's gone for two months so it's mine. Huzzah. It's huge, and it has to get out quickly because the room they're going to be storing things is sort of earmarked for something else that should be arriving soon. I suppose I should enjoy the quiet while it lasts, 'cause next week I'm going to be a bit frenzied.
Well, break's over. Back to work.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
No news is good news
Hi there.
Been a longish week. Lots of scurrying around from project to project, trying to make room in my schedule for something large that's coming next week.
Nothing new to report on the kitty health front, thank goodness. No more seizures, she's still bouncy, and she likes her food. And, as if she could sense I was writing about her, she just appeared at my feet. It's probably just to tell me it's time for bed.
Ay, caramba, it's cold over here. You know it's bad out when the weatherman promises that tomorrow it will go up to 12 degrees (that's Fahrenheit. It's somewhere below zero in Celcius. Brrrrrr). I am really, really grateful for those flannel sheets I got as a Christmas present. The cat likes them too.
She's still sitting here, staring at me. I suppose I should set up the coffee pot for tomorrow and head up the wooden hill.
Been a longish week. Lots of scurrying around from project to project, trying to make room in my schedule for something large that's coming next week.
Nothing new to report on the kitty health front, thank goodness. No more seizures, she's still bouncy, and she likes her food. And, as if she could sense I was writing about her, she just appeared at my feet. It's probably just to tell me it's time for bed.
Ay, caramba, it's cold over here. You know it's bad out when the weatherman promises that tomorrow it will go up to 12 degrees (that's Fahrenheit. It's somewhere below zero in Celcius. Brrrrrr). I am really, really grateful for those flannel sheets I got as a Christmas present. The cat likes them too.
She's still sitting here, staring at me. I suppose I should set up the coffee pot for tomorrow and head up the wooden hill.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Delilah's health
So the vet called me Thursday night. Delilah's blood work showed some elevated levels of things, not dangerous yet, but still not quite normal. It looks like she has the very beginnings of kidney disease. He prescribed special food for her, Hill's K/D, which is only available through vets' offices. He wants to see her again in a few weeks to see if her blood chemistry changes on the special food. We have an appointment for the 3rd of February.
I went and got some of this food on Friday morning.Thankfully, she likes it (considering it's the only thing she's allowed to eat now). We've had no more seizures, and she's upstairs right now, galloping around. Sounds like a herd of elephants. She hasn't done that in a few weeks, though I didn't realize that until she started to do it again. I guess the food is working.
I've been afraid to blog about this. Putting it in print makes it real.
The disease is not serious yet, but the vet made it sound like this isn't something that can be remedied. We can slow it way down but we can't stop it.
Well, she's 17 1/2. I can't be expecting her to live forever.
Why not?
I went and got some of this food on Friday morning.Thankfully, she likes it (considering it's the only thing she's allowed to eat now). We've had no more seizures, and she's upstairs right now, galloping around. Sounds like a herd of elephants. She hasn't done that in a few weeks, though I didn't realize that until she started to do it again. I guess the food is working.
I've been afraid to blog about this. Putting it in print makes it real.
The disease is not serious yet, but the vet made it sound like this isn't something that can be remedied. We can slow it way down but we can't stop it.
Well, she's 17 1/2. I can't be expecting her to live forever.
Why not?
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
So far, 2009 stinks
Is there some sort of reboot button I can hit to start this year over?
Let's see, rotten head & chest cold that spills over into the new year from the old one, with a nagging cough that hangs around after all other symptoms have departed. And then? My cat has a seizure.
Yeah. Big fun today. Around 2:30-3:00, she's sitting on the back of the couch watching as I dance around to some music and clap arhythmically (because dancing like a spaz without clapping isn't nearly dorky enough), then she starts twitching, loses her balance, and is clinging to the sofa cushions, arching her back, panting, foaming at the mouth, and her pupils are dilating so wide I almost can't see her irises. I scoop her up in my arms, call her name over and over as hold her as close I can.
When she was done, she walked a little bit away from me, swaying like she'd lost her balance, and I don't think she could see there for a few minutes. She wouldn't look at me or respond to anything I said or did.
I called a vet -- the same one I took Dexter and Charlie to when the fostering agency wanted them tested for FIV.
Hang on. I just heard a "thump" from upstairs.
False alarm. Must've been a car door from outside. But that's how I am right now. Delilah seems fine, but I'm jumpy 'cause I'm worried about her health.
Anyway, the vet. They gave me an appointment for 6:40 this evening. I grabbed and locked the cat into the bathroom with me while I took a shower, and when I got out there was a message from the vet offering me a better time. They'd had some cancellations. I took it.
We got there by taxi. Typical Lolly, when I took her out of the carrier to get weighed, instead of trying to hide she wanted to explore the office. The assistants behind the desk remarked that she looked more like 6 than 17.
The vet listened to what happened, examined her, asked some questions, and then took her out of the room to get some blood samples. He's sending the samples off to get analyzed, and told me he should have the results tomorrow or the next day. He said it didn't look like a stroke. The blood tests will narrow down what it could be. Next step (if we need it) is an MRI or something like that. He said when there's another seizure, I'm to time it. And to make her comfortable -- turn off music or the TV, turn the lights down, take her down from somewhere if she's up high when it happens.
a) I don't want there to be another seizure, thankyouverymuch.
b) Acting like another seizure's a given is a good way to make your patient's owner want to bite you.
c) Sorry I didn't time the last one, doc. I was too busy worrying that my cat was about to die. "It felt like it went on forever, but it probably wasn't much over a minute" isn't a good enough measurement for you?
None of this was said out loud, but I'm pretty sure it was all written on my face.
She ate a lot when we came home, but not all at once. She'd go take a few mouthfuls, go get settled somewhere for a moment or two, then get up and go eat some more. I was hoping it was just that the seizure burned a lot of calories, and not that her short-term memory got affected.
Now she's sitting here next to me on the sofa, drifting off to sleep. IF I didn't know this had happened this afternoon, I wouldn't be able to tell. She's been running around and jumping up on things and yowling at me the way she always does. It makes me wonder if this is her first seizure or just the first one I've witnessed. Mom said Needles had these a lot when she got older, and that her vet said Siamese (and Siamese mixes) are prone to things like this as they age.
Fanfreakingtastic.
Let's see, rotten head & chest cold that spills over into the new year from the old one, with a nagging cough that hangs around after all other symptoms have departed. And then? My cat has a seizure.
Yeah. Big fun today. Around 2:30-3:00, she's sitting on the back of the couch watching as I dance around to some music and clap arhythmically (because dancing like a spaz without clapping isn't nearly dorky enough), then she starts twitching, loses her balance, and is clinging to the sofa cushions, arching her back, panting, foaming at the mouth, and her pupils are dilating so wide I almost can't see her irises. I scoop her up in my arms, call her name over and over as hold her as close I can.
When she was done, she walked a little bit away from me, swaying like she'd lost her balance, and I don't think she could see there for a few minutes. She wouldn't look at me or respond to anything I said or did.
I called a vet -- the same one I took Dexter and Charlie to when the fostering agency wanted them tested for FIV.
Hang on. I just heard a "thump" from upstairs.
False alarm. Must've been a car door from outside. But that's how I am right now. Delilah seems fine, but I'm jumpy 'cause I'm worried about her health.
Anyway, the vet. They gave me an appointment for 6:40 this evening. I grabbed and locked the cat into the bathroom with me while I took a shower, and when I got out there was a message from the vet offering me a better time. They'd had some cancellations. I took it.
We got there by taxi. Typical Lolly, when I took her out of the carrier to get weighed, instead of trying to hide she wanted to explore the office. The assistants behind the desk remarked that she looked more like 6 than 17.
The vet listened to what happened, examined her, asked some questions, and then took her out of the room to get some blood samples. He's sending the samples off to get analyzed, and told me he should have the results tomorrow or the next day. He said it didn't look like a stroke. The blood tests will narrow down what it could be. Next step (if we need it) is an MRI or something like that. He said when there's another seizure, I'm to time it. And to make her comfortable -- turn off music or the TV, turn the lights down, take her down from somewhere if she's up high when it happens.
a) I don't want there to be another seizure, thankyouverymuch.
b) Acting like another seizure's a given is a good way to make your patient's owner want to bite you.
c) Sorry I didn't time the last one, doc. I was too busy worrying that my cat was about to die. "It felt like it went on forever, but it probably wasn't much over a minute" isn't a good enough measurement for you?
None of this was said out loud, but I'm pretty sure it was all written on my face.
She ate a lot when we came home, but not all at once. She'd go take a few mouthfuls, go get settled somewhere for a moment or two, then get up and go eat some more. I was hoping it was just that the seizure burned a lot of calories, and not that her short-term memory got affected.
Now she's sitting here next to me on the sofa, drifting off to sleep. IF I didn't know this had happened this afternoon, I wouldn't be able to tell. She's been running around and jumping up on things and yowling at me the way she always does. It makes me wonder if this is her first seizure or just the first one I've witnessed. Mom said Needles had these a lot when she got older, and that her vet said Siamese (and Siamese mixes) are prone to things like this as they age.
Fanfreakingtastic.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Word fun
Just Me did this on her blog, and since I can't think of anything to say, I thought I'd give it a go over here:
The idea is, after answering the first question, to find one-word answers beginning with the same letter as your first name. When it comes to the boy or girl name, you must use a first name other than your own.
WHAT IS YOUR NAME: It begins with "V," and we'll leave it at that.
4 LETTER WORD: vole
GIRL NAME: Vivienne
OCCUPATION: ventriloquist -- other ones also occurred to me, but this one sprang to mind first, so I took it.
A COLOR: violet
SOMETHING YOU WEAR: vest
BEVERAGE: vodka
FOOD: veal
REASON FOR BEING LATE: Vehicle -- usually the one ahead of the bus that has had an accident and is now blocking traffic.
SOMETHING YOU SHOUT: Vroom! (when babysitting little boys who play with toy cars. Okay, it's a stretch, but it happens. Occasionally.)
Anyone else wanna play?
The idea is, after answering the first question, to find one-word answers beginning with the same letter as your first name. When it comes to the boy or girl name, you must use a first name other than your own.
WHAT IS YOUR NAME: It begins with "V," and we'll leave it at that.
4 LETTER WORD: vole
GIRL NAME: Vivienne
OCCUPATION: ventriloquist -- other ones also occurred to me, but this one sprang to mind first, so I took it.
A COLOR: violet
SOMETHING YOU WEAR: vest
BEVERAGE: vodka
FOOD: veal
REASON FOR BEING LATE: Vehicle -- usually the one ahead of the bus that has had an accident and is now blocking traffic.
SOMETHING YOU SHOUT: Vroom! (when babysitting little boys who play with toy cars. Okay, it's a stretch, but it happens. Occasionally.)
Anyone else wanna play?
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Hello, 2009! (Cough, cough, cough)
Happy New Year!
Last night's celebration consisted of me watching the ball drop on Dick Clark's New Year's Eve show, toasting the New Year with some sparkling cranberry juice, 2 tweets, a failed attempt to call my sister's cell, and (bonus!) running upstairs to watch the First Night fireworks from my bedroom window. Where I was living last year I could only hear them.
I wound up not doing my little party of one. I was too tired, and just not into it. Besides, I didn't know whether my GI tract would take kindly to chips, cheese, turkey pepperoni, crackers, vegetables, dip, olives, and hummus. Instead I got it out today while I watched the Rose Parade. I like that HGTV shows it with limited commercial interruption, but I wish there was a way to mute the commentators and still hear the other sounds. One guy was talking about how much work it takes for a bands to get to the parade, how much time is spent in practice, in fund raising, blah, blah, blah, and I shouted at the screen, "Then why don't you shut up and let us hear them?!?"
I'm going a little stir-crazy, here.
Part of the reason behind taking an extra week off of work was to make sure I didn't go back before I was ready (I'm off 'til the 12th), but I didn't figure on catching the Creeping Crud. I don't know who gave it to me, maybe my parents, maybe some random stranger who breathed on me at Shady Maple. I just know that tomorrow, come hell or high water, I am getting outta here. Going to the mall. Or a movie. Something, anything that doesn't involve being curled up on the couch in a nest of blankets with the cat and the remote.
But right now I'm off to bed. Making up for not getting to sleep before one last night.
Last night's celebration consisted of me watching the ball drop on Dick Clark's New Year's Eve show, toasting the New Year with some sparkling cranberry juice, 2 tweets, a failed attempt to call my sister's cell, and (bonus!) running upstairs to watch the First Night fireworks from my bedroom window. Where I was living last year I could only hear them.
I wound up not doing my little party of one. I was too tired, and just not into it. Besides, I didn't know whether my GI tract would take kindly to chips, cheese, turkey pepperoni, crackers, vegetables, dip, olives, and hummus. Instead I got it out today while I watched the Rose Parade. I like that HGTV shows it with limited commercial interruption, but I wish there was a way to mute the commentators and still hear the other sounds. One guy was talking about how much work it takes for a bands to get to the parade, how much time is spent in practice, in fund raising, blah, blah, blah, and I shouted at the screen, "Then why don't you shut up and let us hear them?!?"
I'm going a little stir-crazy, here.
Part of the reason behind taking an extra week off of work was to make sure I didn't go back before I was ready (I'm off 'til the 12th), but I didn't figure on catching the Creeping Crud. I don't know who gave it to me, maybe my parents, maybe some random stranger who breathed on me at Shady Maple. I just know that tomorrow, come hell or high water, I am getting outta here. Going to the mall. Or a movie. Something, anything that doesn't involve being curled up on the couch in a nest of blankets with the cat and the remote.
But right now I'm off to bed. Making up for not getting to sleep before one last night.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig
We didn't wind up going to the movie. Mom, my sister, and I went out shopping at Michael's, a grocery store, and a make-up salon called Ulta. I bought some Bare Minerals foundation -- the start-up kit, since I have no idea how to use the stuff. Kit comes with 2 jars of foundation, a jar of something called "warmth," three brushes, and a DVD explaining how to apply it.
Shortly after waking up and getting my coffee on the 27th (while I was writing the last post, actually), I noticed I had a scratchy throat. After shopping I came home and uncharacteristically took a nap. Woke up feeling worse. Got to use my Snuggee for the first time, 'cause I was having chills. Managed to make it through dinner, took some cold medicine and went back to bed.
We headed home the next day after brunch. I've been in my jammies, bundled up on the sofa with the TV on and the cat purring in my ear ever since I got home. I felt well enough today to go out and buy stuff for the little "party of one" I throw on New Year's Eve, but as soon as I got home I changed back into pajamas. I'm almost all right, except for an occasional chesty cough.
Now I'm gonna post this, log off, and curl up with the cat. Maybe I'll watch some of the stuff on my DVR. It's 58% full now.
Shortly after waking up and getting my coffee on the 27th (while I was writing the last post, actually), I noticed I had a scratchy throat. After shopping I came home and uncharacteristically took a nap. Woke up feeling worse. Got to use my Snuggee for the first time, 'cause I was having chills. Managed to make it through dinner, took some cold medicine and went back to bed.
We headed home the next day after brunch. I've been in my jammies, bundled up on the sofa with the TV on and the cat purring in my ear ever since I got home. I felt well enough today to go out and buy stuff for the little "party of one" I throw on New Year's Eve, but as soon as I got home I changed back into pajamas. I'm almost all right, except for an occasional chesty cough.
Now I'm gonna post this, log off, and curl up with the cat. Maybe I'll watch some of the stuff on my DVR. It's 58% full now.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Merry Two-days-after-Christmas
Howdy! I'm in my sister's basement right now. Sorry, I mean "rec room" (inside joke). We got here just fine, though my parents didn't get to me until a little before three o'clock. They thought they'd be there around noon, and then I got a call from a town about an hour away at 1 pm saying they'd be to me in 45 minutes. The roads from here to the Lancaster area were fine, though it was a bit foggy in places.
Christmas Day we opened presents until around noon, I think, then played with our gifts until dinner time. Stretch cooked a crown roast of pork this year. I think next year he's going to fry a turkey--Ditter got him an electric turkey fryer. It looks like a Fry Daddy on steroids. Huge.
There seemed to be a few themes this year for Christmas: light, keeping warm, and bling. My mom gave us baseball caps with LED lights in the brim so that you can see where you're going. My parents also gave my sister and me wind-up flashlights. A lot of us got flannel jammies, and those fleecy blankets with sleeves (Snuggs, I think they're called. It's like putting on your bathrobe backwards.) I gave Mom and Dad a thing I found through Mighty Haus a while back. It makes burnable bricks out of newspaper. I figured they can use it in conjunction with their new coal and wood stove. And there was lots of jewelry to go around. And, based on a rant I emailed Mom about my slurping co-worker, I got a nice set of earphones. Yay! Now I don't have to raid my iPod every time I want to block sound!
Yesterday my parents took everyone to lunch at a place called Shady Maple. It's a smorgasbord. I was told it was large, but I wasn't prepared for exactly how large. Wow. Huge. And full. Mr. S. dropped us off at the front door and went to park, and we walked into what looked like a hotel lobby. I wish I'd brought my camera. I think the entire county was in there. After lunch we came home and most of us took naps. I played on the computer until everyone woke up again, and then watched TV with my mom and my sister.
Been a lazy few days. Today Ditter and I are going to see Twilight. 'Cause nothing says "Christmas" like vampires.
Christmas Day we opened presents until around noon, I think, then played with our gifts until dinner time. Stretch cooked a crown roast of pork this year. I think next year he's going to fry a turkey--Ditter got him an electric turkey fryer. It looks like a Fry Daddy on steroids. Huge.
There seemed to be a few themes this year for Christmas: light, keeping warm, and bling. My mom gave us baseball caps with LED lights in the brim so that you can see where you're going. My parents also gave my sister and me wind-up flashlights. A lot of us got flannel jammies, and those fleecy blankets with sleeves (Snuggs, I think they're called. It's like putting on your bathrobe backwards.) I gave Mom and Dad a thing I found through Mighty Haus a while back. It makes burnable bricks out of newspaper. I figured they can use it in conjunction with their new coal and wood stove. And there was lots of jewelry to go around. And, based on a rant I emailed Mom about my slurping co-worker, I got a nice set of earphones. Yay! Now I don't have to raid my iPod every time I want to block sound!
Yesterday my parents took everyone to lunch at a place called Shady Maple. It's a smorgasbord. I was told it was large, but I wasn't prepared for exactly how large. Wow. Huge. And full. Mr. S. dropped us off at the front door and went to park, and we walked into what looked like a hotel lobby. I wish I'd brought my camera. I think the entire county was in there. After lunch we came home and most of us took naps. I played on the computer until everyone woke up again, and then watched TV with my mom and my sister.
Been a lazy few days. Today Ditter and I are going to see Twilight. 'Cause nothing says "Christmas" like vampires.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Kitty's in the doghouse
Running around like a nut trying to get packed and put together, one ear out for the phone (Mom promised to call me when they're about to head out), I walk into my bedroom and hear suspicious rustling. I turn on the overhead light and Delilah slinks away from the presents -- from Schatzi's present, to be exact.
She got all the wrapping paper off except for one piece of tape on the back, and then chewed her way into the package. I'm mad and impressed at the same time. Looks like I'll be making a trip to the store before we head out of town.
They just called me as I was typing this. They're leaving now. If you wouldn't mind, please send good thoughts towards upstate Pennsylvania. The roads were all icy this morning, and it's still raining. My sidewalk is a mess but I don't know if that's any indication of what the roads are like. I hope they've cleared up some now that the sun is out and the salt trucks have been round.
She got all the wrapping paper off except for one piece of tape on the back, and then chewed her way into the package. I'm mad and impressed at the same time. Looks like I'll be making a trip to the store before we head out of town.
They just called me as I was typing this. They're leaving now. If you wouldn't mind, please send good thoughts towards upstate Pennsylvania. The roads were all icy this morning, and it's still raining. My sidewalk is a mess but I don't know if that's any indication of what the roads are like. I hope they've cleared up some now that the sun is out and the salt trucks have been round.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Pre-holiday freak-out
My mother just called to raise my blood pressure.
Well, that wasn't her intention but it sure was the result. She's at work right now, and has been looking at the weather forecast for tomorrow. It looks like her area's supposed to get freezing rain in the morning. She thought maybe she and Dad should leave this afternoon and stay with me overnight, then set out for my sister's house from here tomorrow morning.
Excellent idea, except for one thing. I'm not prepared for house guests right now. I'm trying to bake, wrap presents, do laundry, decorate for Christmas, and straighten up all at the same time. So springing a surprise visit on me right now? Not a good idea.
What was I going to say, though? "No, risk your lives tomorrow morning, I'm not set for company." So I said, sure, fine, come on down.
"Well, I have to run this by your father first, but I thought I'd give him this option, if it was okay with you."
"Sure!" I squeaked.
"He'll probably say we'll be fine tomorrow morning. So don't panic yet."
"Oh, it's too late for that."
She laughed and hung up. Called me back a minute later saying that the line was busy at the house, which means he's probably on the computer. I hung up, did a preliminary cleaning of both bathrooms, sorted laundry and threw a load into the washer, and started to unload the dishwasher. She called again.
"Still no answer at the house. I even sent him an email telling him to get off the computer and call me, but no dice. So I guess you can forget that idea. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Oh. All right."
"I was just thinking of safety."
"Yes, I know. You'll probably won't go down Wykoff Run if the weather's bad, yeah?"
Wykoff Run is this twisty-turny little two-lane road that goes up and then down a mountain. Very remote, lots of hunting camps on it. Dangerous in bad weather, probably, what with all the turns and inclines. Cuts about an hour out of the trip, though, which is why Dad uses it.
"Yes. Which means it'll take even longer to get to you. So. Sorry for the scare."
"No, it's all right. I need a poke to get me moving today. Got to get all sorts of stuff done, and I was having a hard time getting motivated. Thanks for the cattle prod."
"Anytime. See you tomorrow."
Whew. All right, gotta go finish emptying the dishwasher, clear off the kitchen table, finish wrapping presents, make more cookies, straighten the living room, clean the cat box, wash out and refill Delilah's water fountain, do more laundry, wash more dishes, pack, clean the bathrooms, change the sheets, empty the outdoor lint trap, and collapse. Not necessarily in that order. I should probably do the lint trap first, 'cause I'm going to need the dryer in a few minutes. Where are my shoes?
Here's an interesting little thing I found out today: my phone line is voice-over-IP, it comes from the cable company along with my TV and internet access. Before today, I've never had the TV on when the phone rang, so I didn't know that incoming phone calls get announced on the TV. When the phone rings, a little blue box pops up on the screen to tell me who it is. Neat, huh?
Well, that wasn't her intention but it sure was the result. She's at work right now, and has been looking at the weather forecast for tomorrow. It looks like her area's supposed to get freezing rain in the morning. She thought maybe she and Dad should leave this afternoon and stay with me overnight, then set out for my sister's house from here tomorrow morning.
Excellent idea, except for one thing. I'm not prepared for house guests right now. I'm trying to bake, wrap presents, do laundry, decorate for Christmas, and straighten up all at the same time. So springing a surprise visit on me right now? Not a good idea.
What was I going to say, though? "No, risk your lives tomorrow morning, I'm not set for company." So I said, sure, fine, come on down.
"Well, I have to run this by your father first, but I thought I'd give him this option, if it was okay with you."
"Sure!" I squeaked.
"He'll probably say we'll be fine tomorrow morning. So don't panic yet."
"Oh, it's too late for that."
She laughed and hung up. Called me back a minute later saying that the line was busy at the house, which means he's probably on the computer. I hung up, did a preliminary cleaning of both bathrooms, sorted laundry and threw a load into the washer, and started to unload the dishwasher. She called again.
"Still no answer at the house. I even sent him an email telling him to get off the computer and call me, but no dice. So I guess you can forget that idea. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Oh. All right."
"I was just thinking of safety."
"Yes, I know. You'll probably won't go down Wykoff Run if the weather's bad, yeah?"
Wykoff Run is this twisty-turny little two-lane road that goes up and then down a mountain. Very remote, lots of hunting camps on it. Dangerous in bad weather, probably, what with all the turns and inclines. Cuts about an hour out of the trip, though, which is why Dad uses it.
"Yes. Which means it'll take even longer to get to you. So. Sorry for the scare."
"No, it's all right. I need a poke to get me moving today. Got to get all sorts of stuff done, and I was having a hard time getting motivated. Thanks for the cattle prod."
"Anytime. See you tomorrow."
Whew. All right, gotta go finish emptying the dishwasher, clear off the kitchen table, finish wrapping presents, make more cookies, straighten the living room, clean the cat box, wash out and refill Delilah's water fountain, do more laundry, wash more dishes, pack, clean the bathrooms, change the sheets, empty the outdoor lint trap, and collapse. Not necessarily in that order. I should probably do the lint trap first, 'cause I'm going to need the dryer in a few minutes. Where are my shoes?
Here's an interesting little thing I found out today: my phone line is voice-over-IP, it comes from the cable company along with my TV and internet access. Before today, I've never had the TV on when the phone rang, so I didn't know that incoming phone calls get announced on the TV. When the phone rings, a little blue box pops up on the screen to tell me who it is. Neat, huh?
Friday, December 19, 2008
Can't wrap this
I could've used this a few days ago. All the Virginia and (now) California relatives got their presents mailed to them earlier this week. Monday night was spent sweating and swearing over wrapping paper, while the cat looked on in amusement.
“Can't Wrap This” video at DanceJam.com
Ah, yes.
The "California relatives" were "Germany relatives" until earlier this year. My Air Force cousin finally saw reason and is getting himself retrained again so that he can go back to babysitting the nuclear warheads. It's kind of scary when the safest place to be right now is next to the missile silo, no?
“Can't Wrap This” video at DanceJam.com
Ah, yes.
The "California relatives" were "Germany relatives" until earlier this year. My Air Force cousin finally saw reason and is getting himself retrained again so that he can go back to babysitting the nuclear warheads. It's kind of scary when the safest place to be right now is next to the missile silo, no?
Monday, December 15, 2008
Cookie recipe
As I promised in the comments of the previous entry, here's the recipe for the bar cookie that uses raspberry preserves. I found a recipe measurement converter online, so there are metric measurements in parentheses. I rounded up or down to one decimal point, when necessary
Raspberry Coconut Bars
3/4 c. butter, softened (170 g)
1 c. sugar (228.5 g)
1 egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract (2.5 ml)
2 c. all-purpose flour (453.6 g)
1/4 tsp baking powder (1.2 g)
2 c. flaked coconut, divided (453.6 g)
1/2 c. chopped walnuts (113.4 g)
1 12-ounce jar raspberry preserves (352.9 ml or 342.8 g)*
1 c. vanilla or white chocolate chips (228.5 g)
1. Preheat oven to 350° F (177° C).
2. Grease a 13" x 9" x 2" baking pan (33 cm x 22.9 cm x 5.1 cm. I looked around on Amazon.co.uk, and I think this would be called a brownie pan).
3. In a large mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla. Set aside.
4. In another bowl, combine flour and baking powder; gradually add this to the creamed mixture and mix well. Stir in 1 1/4 c. coconut (285.7 g) and the walnuts.
5. Reserve one quarter of the dough to use as topping. Press the rest of the dough into the greased pan. Spread with preserves. Sprinkle with chips and the rest of the coconut. Crumble reserved dough over the top; press lightly.
6. Bake at 350° F (177° C) for 30-35 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on wire rack. Cut into bars.
This recipe says the yield is 36 bars. I think that may depend on how you cut them.
And personally, I don't think the white chips were necessary. I didn't notice them in the piece I ate. Also, the recipe didn't specify, but I used seedless preserves to save my gift recipients from getting jabbed in the gums.
*Not sure whether jam is measured as dry or liquid, so I did both conversions. Wish I hadn't already thrown the label away.
Raspberry Coconut Bars
3/4 c. butter, softened (170 g)
1 c. sugar (228.5 g)
1 egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract (2.5 ml)
2 c. all-purpose flour (453.6 g)
1/4 tsp baking powder (1.2 g)
2 c. flaked coconut, divided (453.6 g)
1/2 c. chopped walnuts (113.4 g)
1 12-ounce jar raspberry preserves (352.9 ml or 342.8 g)*
1 c. vanilla or white chocolate chips (228.5 g)
1. Preheat oven to 350° F (177° C).
2. Grease a 13" x 9" x 2" baking pan (33 cm x 22.9 cm x 5.1 cm. I looked around on Amazon.co.uk, and I think this would be called a brownie pan).
3. In a large mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla. Set aside.
4. In another bowl, combine flour and baking powder; gradually add this to the creamed mixture and mix well. Stir in 1 1/4 c. coconut (285.7 g) and the walnuts.
5. Reserve one quarter of the dough to use as topping. Press the rest of the dough into the greased pan. Spread with preserves. Sprinkle with chips and the rest of the coconut. Crumble reserved dough over the top; press lightly.
6. Bake at 350° F (177° C) for 30-35 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on wire rack. Cut into bars.
This recipe says the yield is 36 bars. I think that may depend on how you cut them.
And personally, I don't think the white chips were necessary. I didn't notice them in the piece I ate. Also, the recipe didn't specify, but I used seedless preserves to save my gift recipients from getting jabbed in the gums.
*Not sure whether jam is measured as dry or liquid, so I did both conversions. Wish I hadn't already thrown the label away.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The Tweets you see when you forget your phone
I went to the grocery store after work today armed with a list of things I need for the First Annual Baking Extravaganza here at Chez Vee. I was really wishing I'd remembered to put my cell in my purse before I left the house this morning. I can be much more tolerant of irritations when I am able to secretly snark about them to Twitter.
1) I need a bag of white chocolate chips. I'm finding every kind of chip but that. Chocolate in various forms (dark, semi-sweet, milk, with mint, miniature), butterscotch, peanut butter, cinnamon, but no white chocolate. Am I the only person in town who wants this? Surely there's more than just the recipe I'm using that calls for 'em.
2) I need raspberry preserves (same recipe, as it happens). I find the jelly aisle (after passing it twice), and am to stuck behind a man who is...well, the only word for it is bogarting. Yep. He is bogarting the jelly. I need one 12-ounce jar of raspberry preserves. I can see them but I can't get to them. He is standing in front of me (us, really. Other people are trying to get at the jelly, too) and a little off to my left, swaying, weaving, browsing, dreamily oblivious of anything except the burning question of what should go on his toast. He has a jar of something in his hand already, but he is (I guess) trying to decide if this is the right choice. Dude, it's jelly. Pick something and go. Or at least get outta people's way. He sways a little to the left and I see my chance. I dive in, snag my preserves, turn around and smile grimly at the mother of two (one child in the cart, one hanging off of the edge) who is about to take my place, and move on. And yes, before you ask, people have tried speaking to him. He doesn't respond to "excuse me."
3) Hey look! A whole display of baking items! Three tables' worth! One whole table is covered with varieties of chips from Nestlé, Hershey, Ghirardelli...and still no white ones. Blast.
4) I am now stuck behind a mother and son tag-team of slowpokes. They're meandering cartless up the aisle, looking at everything and finding nothing in particular. They put just enough room between them that I could almost get through, and then close up the gap again right before I decide to try. Mom mentions something to the boy about snacks for his hockey team, maybe something individually wrapped, so I'm guessing that's what they're looking for. As we get to the end of the aisle I will them to turn left. My mind to your mind, your thoughts to my thoughts..... Crap. They're turning right. And I still can't get round them. I duck down an aisle I don't need just to get away from them and get stuck behind them again two aisles later. What on earth are they doing in the frozen foods section? Are they gonna give the hockey team succotash?
5) Just for the heck of it, right before leaving I go back to the baking aisle one more time in search of my white chips. There's a cardboard display that I don't remember seeing before, and on the bottom, shoved way in the back there is one bag of what I'm looking for. I grab it, toss it in the cart, and scurry towards the check out line. Oop! The Slowpoke Hockey Mom just picked that line. Keep moving, try another one. Hey, look! Bogarter made it out of the jelly aisle. Out of curiosity, I get behind him and see what he chose: store brand grape. Aw, c'mon. For all that wavering, he could have at least bought something by Bonne Maman or Trappist.
6) Passing me on their way into the store as I leave it is a mother-daughter duo, going over their list of baking needs. I hear mother say just before the door shuts,
"Don't let me forget, we need white chocolate chips too."
Rotsa ruck, ma'am.
1) I need a bag of white chocolate chips. I'm finding every kind of chip but that. Chocolate in various forms (dark, semi-sweet, milk, with mint, miniature), butterscotch, peanut butter, cinnamon, but no white chocolate. Am I the only person in town who wants this? Surely there's more than just the recipe I'm using that calls for 'em.
2) I need raspberry preserves (same recipe, as it happens). I find the jelly aisle (after passing it twice), and am to stuck behind a man who is...well, the only word for it is bogarting. Yep. He is bogarting the jelly. I need one 12-ounce jar of raspberry preserves. I can see them but I can't get to them. He is standing in front of me (us, really. Other people are trying to get at the jelly, too) and a little off to my left, swaying, weaving, browsing, dreamily oblivious of anything except the burning question of what should go on his toast. He has a jar of something in his hand already, but he is (I guess) trying to decide if this is the right choice. Dude, it's jelly. Pick something and go. Or at least get outta people's way. He sways a little to the left and I see my chance. I dive in, snag my preserves, turn around and smile grimly at the mother of two (one child in the cart, one hanging off of the edge) who is about to take my place, and move on. And yes, before you ask, people have tried speaking to him. He doesn't respond to "excuse me."
3) Hey look! A whole display of baking items! Three tables' worth! One whole table is covered with varieties of chips from Nestlé, Hershey, Ghirardelli...and still no white ones. Blast.
4) I am now stuck behind a mother and son tag-team of slowpokes. They're meandering cartless up the aisle, looking at everything and finding nothing in particular. They put just enough room between them that I could almost get through, and then close up the gap again right before I decide to try. Mom mentions something to the boy about snacks for his hockey team, maybe something individually wrapped, so I'm guessing that's what they're looking for. As we get to the end of the aisle I will them to turn left. My mind to your mind, your thoughts to my thoughts..... Crap. They're turning right. And I still can't get round them. I duck down an aisle I don't need just to get away from them and get stuck behind them again two aisles later. What on earth are they doing in the frozen foods section? Are they gonna give the hockey team succotash?
5) Just for the heck of it, right before leaving I go back to the baking aisle one more time in search of my white chips. There's a cardboard display that I don't remember seeing before, and on the bottom, shoved way in the back there is one bag of what I'm looking for. I grab it, toss it in the cart, and scurry towards the check out line. Oop! The Slowpoke Hockey Mom just picked that line. Keep moving, try another one. Hey, look! Bogarter made it out of the jelly aisle. Out of curiosity, I get behind him and see what he chose: store brand grape. Aw, c'mon. For all that wavering, he could have at least bought something by Bonne Maman or Trappist.
6) Passing me on their way into the store as I leave it is a mother-daughter duo, going over their list of baking needs. I hear mother say just before the door shuts,
"Don't let me forget, we need white chocolate chips too."
Rotsa ruck, ma'am.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
A LOLcat that makes me laugh
Who'd've thought a cat would eat a snow cone?
more animals
I liked this one so much, I downloaded it to my terminal and am going to use it as desktop wallpaper after Christmas.
more animals
I liked this one so much, I downloaded it to my terminal and am going to use it as desktop wallpaper after Christmas.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Public embarassment, bad dreams, and stupid ideas
or, "What the past few days have been like."
Occasionally I have an anxiety dream. It usually involves having to take a final in a class I didn't know I was enrolled in and now cannot drop. Don't know the subject, or the teacher, or even the building the test is in. I spend most of the dream running around campus trying to find this exam. If I find the room before I wake up, it's usually as some faceless voice is saying, "Pencils down." Test's over, I missed it. Then I wake up, and have to calm myself down by remembering I'm not in school any more.
Last night the dream had a new wrinkle. My report card came in the mail (I don't know whether I was a high school student or a college one). I got all A's except for one B+. My mother was ranting and raving about the B+, wanting to know how I could let this happen, this could ruin my future, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Here's the kicker--my mother? Was my old supervisor from a year and a half ago.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
I told my fellow refugee from Hell this story and she said, "You are really letting that holiday party invitation get to you, aren't you?"
We'd just been invited the day before to the annual holiday "celebration" at the old office, and neither of us wanted to go. We're going, though, partly because there are some people there we'd like to see, and partly to keep good diplomatic relations between them and our people.
Then last night I had another doozy. All I remember from it is a bit about having to go to a morgue to ID my sister's body. And then I woke up sobbing. I had to talk myself out of calling her at three a.m. today to see if she was all right.
What the [bleep] is up, brain? Halloween was months ago, why are you scaring me now?
Then there's the fun bit on the bus this morning. It was raining quite heavily when I left the house. Everyone on the bus and all their belongings were dripping wet. I was talking to a friend and (now) neighbor as I went to get off at my stop (ahead of her, thank goodness) took one step and went jeet, BOOM! down the steps. Three of 'em. Hit my tushie on each one as I passed. I got to the bottom and, clinging to both hand railings, announced unnecessarily over my shoulder to the rest of the bus:
"The steps are slick!"
I drew the attention of people from 50 yards away, it was that impressive a fall. Bus driver asked me twice if I was okay, and then pulled up along side me as I was about to enter my building and asked if I was sure I was all right. I said, "Well, my bottom hurts, but I did just smack it three times. I'm fine."
And I am, for the most part. I'm going to have a beaut of a bruise when it finally shows. Right now it hurts a little if I shift in a particular direction, so I try not to do that.
When I got to work (after relating my story to my team, laughing so hard at myself that I was starting to tear up. I bet it looked hilarious!), I found Santa had stopped by. One teammate had given me shortbread, another gave me a bag of Jordan almonds and a big bottle of bubble bath/shower gel/shampoo. It's from a company called Philosophy, where my sister gets her perfume. Scent is Snickerdoodle. Food. Dessert, even. But I took a good whiff of it, and all I smelled was cinnamon. Not bad. It's a scent I think I can live with.
So tonight, after I got home and got myself some dinner, I decided to go soak my achy bottom in a bubble bath. I don't do baths very often. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've taken a bath since my mother announced I was old enough to start using the shower. I don't think I'll be doing it again soon.
Try this: Take a small stock pot, fill it almost to the top with hot, soapy water. Then, from a height of about three feet, drop in a bowling ball. The resulting mess will give you some indication of what the bathroom floor looked like when I sat down in my too-full tub. And I wasn't in there very long before I noticed some of me was getting cold, and the water was getting lukewarm. So I emptied some out, refilled, and proceeded to slosh around, getting even more water on the floor in the process. Turns out I couldn't really soak my achy bum because it hurt when I leaned back. Or moved forward. Or stood up.
Sigh.
So now here I am in my jammies, lying prone in front of the laptop on the floor of the upstairs hall (I'd brought it upstairs to play some nice soothing classical music while I soaked. Really, really glad I didn't put it anywhere in the bathroom, but instead left it outside on the carpeted floor, well away from Lake Snickerdoodle), smelling of cookie dough, with an achy behind, and afraid to go to sleep for fear that my brain's gonna toss me another hand grenade tonight.
So. How are you?
P.S. Ditter's fine by the way. She says dreaming about a death usually means there's a birth round the corner. She's been trying to make me Auntie Vee for a little while now, so, fingers crossed.
Occasionally I have an anxiety dream. It usually involves having to take a final in a class I didn't know I was enrolled in and now cannot drop. Don't know the subject, or the teacher, or even the building the test is in. I spend most of the dream running around campus trying to find this exam. If I find the room before I wake up, it's usually as some faceless voice is saying, "Pencils down." Test's over, I missed it. Then I wake up, and have to calm myself down by remembering I'm not in school any more.
Last night the dream had a new wrinkle. My report card came in the mail (I don't know whether I was a high school student or a college one). I got all A's except for one B+. My mother was ranting and raving about the B+, wanting to know how I could let this happen, this could ruin my future, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Here's the kicker--my mother? Was my old supervisor from a year and a half ago.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
I told my fellow refugee from Hell this story and she said, "You are really letting that holiday party invitation get to you, aren't you?"
We'd just been invited the day before to the annual holiday "celebration" at the old office, and neither of us wanted to go. We're going, though, partly because there are some people there we'd like to see, and partly to keep good diplomatic relations between them and our people.
Then last night I had another doozy. All I remember from it is a bit about having to go to a morgue to ID my sister's body. And then I woke up sobbing. I had to talk myself out of calling her at three a.m. today to see if she was all right.
What the [bleep] is up, brain? Halloween was months ago, why are you scaring me now?
Then there's the fun bit on the bus this morning. It was raining quite heavily when I left the house. Everyone on the bus and all their belongings were dripping wet. I was talking to a friend and (now) neighbor as I went to get off at my stop (ahead of her, thank goodness) took one step and went jeet, BOOM! down the steps. Three of 'em. Hit my tushie on each one as I passed. I got to the bottom and, clinging to both hand railings, announced unnecessarily over my shoulder to the rest of the bus:
"The steps are slick!"
I drew the attention of people from 50 yards away, it was that impressive a fall. Bus driver asked me twice if I was okay, and then pulled up along side me as I was about to enter my building and asked if I was sure I was all right. I said, "Well, my bottom hurts, but I did just smack it three times. I'm fine."
And I am, for the most part. I'm going to have a beaut of a bruise when it finally shows. Right now it hurts a little if I shift in a particular direction, so I try not to do that.
When I got to work (after relating my story to my team, laughing so hard at myself that I was starting to tear up. I bet it looked hilarious!), I found Santa had stopped by. One teammate had given me shortbread, another gave me a bag of Jordan almonds and a big bottle of bubble bath/shower gel/shampoo. It's from a company called Philosophy, where my sister gets her perfume. Scent is Snickerdoodle. Food. Dessert, even. But I took a good whiff of it, and all I smelled was cinnamon. Not bad. It's a scent I think I can live with.
So tonight, after I got home and got myself some dinner, I decided to go soak my achy bottom in a bubble bath. I don't do baths very often. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've taken a bath since my mother announced I was old enough to start using the shower. I don't think I'll be doing it again soon.
Try this: Take a small stock pot, fill it almost to the top with hot, soapy water. Then, from a height of about three feet, drop in a bowling ball. The resulting mess will give you some indication of what the bathroom floor looked like when I sat down in my too-full tub. And I wasn't in there very long before I noticed some of me was getting cold, and the water was getting lukewarm. So I emptied some out, refilled, and proceeded to slosh around, getting even more water on the floor in the process. Turns out I couldn't really soak my achy bum because it hurt when I leaned back. Or moved forward. Or stood up.
Sigh.
So now here I am in my jammies, lying prone in front of the laptop on the floor of the upstairs hall (I'd brought it upstairs to play some nice soothing classical music while I soaked. Really, really glad I didn't put it anywhere in the bathroom, but instead left it outside on the carpeted floor, well away from Lake Snickerdoodle), smelling of cookie dough, with an achy behind, and afraid to go to sleep for fear that my brain's gonna toss me another hand grenade tonight.
So. How are you?
P.S. Ditter's fine by the way. She says dreaming about a death usually means there's a birth round the corner. She's been trying to make me Auntie Vee for a little while now, so, fingers crossed.
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