Cancellations?!?

- Get Your Own


It is cold and snowy today. I would have gone to my first class except that I am afraid of death and I like my car undented. I have to take three highways to get to my first class and it took me 20 minutes to go two miles... and cars all around me were sliding off the highway. It was the strangest thing - they'd be driving slowly and carefully like the rest of us and then Whoop! - not on the highway anymore. Scary. I got to the place where I could either get off the highway and go to my office or I could get on the next highway and I thought, "I can probably make it." PROBABLY?!? Get thee off the highway!!
So I did. I left a message for my professor that actually said that I liked his class but I was not willing to risk my life or my car for it. He's a good guy, he'll laugh.

I should go to my afternoon classes as I am actually across the street from campus when I am at work... but the 300 pages I have left to read are calling me from next to my bed. Also? There are kitties and diet Dr. Pepper and comfy pants and judge shows at home. Not so much in class. It's WAY too early in the semester to be like this - on the other hand it is WAY to snowy to be away from home. I'm holding out hope that they cancel classes before noon so that I don't have to pretend to feel guilty about it.

I had a dream last night that I was putting on makeup - which I never do - and I was trying to get a thick layer of black eyeliner on straight and even under both eyes. What's that about??

Things I left at home today:
My book
Cough drops
The idiot step-mother's Avon order
Chap stick

I'm kind of missing my big purse.

Against the Friday

I have read 200 of the 500 pages I need to finish by Friday at 7:00. Fuck.

Thomas Pynchon's new book (all 1000 pages/3 pounds of it) is good, don't get me wrong, but it is not in any way a quick, easy read. It is also not a book you can read without a dictionary. And a lot of caffeine. And more time. And more discipline. This book is causing me to want to clean my room. And fold laundry. But maybe it's the fact that I don't actually have time to finish the last 300 pages and clean my room and fold laundry that is causing these urges. I will be any of you a hundred million dollars that Friday night when I get home from the discussion that I will no longer feel the urge to clean or fold. And Saturday I will be napping. Oh, and Sunday as well.
It is no secret that I am not an effective time manager. I am more of a procrastinator/sleeper type. More of a "there's always time tomorrow" type of person. And I apparently have some form of ADD. (Look, something shiny! Oh, and The Soup is on! Cool!! Do we have any Pop Tarts? I could go to the store!)

Speaking of going to the store, the Sharpies that I HAD TO BUY for the party? Still in the package. Of course. I don't know exactly why I thought I needed them so much - though there were a few times when I wasn't sure what had happened to my tea... having my name on my plastic cup would maybe have been a good idea.

We have discovered that Sammie, while sweet and loving, is not the sharpest crayola in the 64-pack. She has jumped into the shower and gotten wet and been really confused about it THREE times today. (The good news is that everyone in my family actually took a shower today - a sign that the cloud of depression hovering over my house for the past few months is starting to lift a little). I don't know what to think about poor Sammie, though. I can't figure out why she can't figure it out... Poor dumb kitten. At least she has her looks and a hell of a personality.

More snow tomorrow. AP reported 1 inch accumulation and then changed it in the afternoon to 1-4 inches. I used to laugh about those predictions as we almost never get that much snow. 1 - 4 inches of ice? Sure, but not so much with the snow. But this year has been different. My mother in law (who is, of course, crazy) said that if the first snowfall is on the 30th you're in for 30 snows before spring. I don't know about that, but the first snow of this winter was on the 30th of November. I know because that was the day I was moving the rest of our crap out of the old house and trying to clean. Every time I made a trip between houses I'd have to knock snow from the truck.

Full day of classes tomorrow and then off to work... and there is a knitting meeting tomorrow evening that I will not be going to. Unless I can somehow read 200 more pages before 6 tomorrow evening. I asked, but my Magic 8 Ball won't even respond to that question, there's just a blank window and this low, watery chuckle. (Good Christ, I believe that this Pynchon business is rubbing off on me somehow).

Small things that made me happy today:
The engineer at work arranged Dove Chocolates on the keyboard on my desk.
Bean and I cuddled in bed watching Gilmore Girls.
There were still some almonds left in the mixed nuts from the party.
Jon Stewart is adorable. And funny.
Lara left the diet A&W Root Beer she brought to the party. Mmmmm. Creamy.
Listening to Joan Osborne on my iPod.

Party Success!!

Just a quick post today... I am really tired and I have about 350 pages of Thomas Pynchon to get though before Friday. Ack!

There are only two things that would have made my pj party any better for me:
1. Have someone else clean my house before the party
2. Have someone else work the 6-noon shift so I can sleep in before my party

There was a lot of laughter and a lot of knitting... My friend M even learned to knit (yay!!). There was plenty of food and the den got warm enough and everyone seemed to have a good time.

The husband came home at 8... on the dot. Atomic clocks have nothing on this guy. He rang the bell and I went outside to have a cigarette with him and when I came back in everyone was getting ready to go... as much as I didn't want the evening to end, I think the husband was relieved. A house full of knitters in pajamas was a little much for him.

And Sammie was the belle of the ball. I put both cats in the laundry room for most of the party bur several people wanted to meet her. Even Chris, who loves cats but is really allergic, took an allergy pill and fell in love. Apparently it's a good thing for me that she's allergic because she says she would have tried to sneak Sammie out with her.

I see more parties in my future... K said she's hosting the next one, and Kerri and I have talked about doing one of those dinner parties where you go to one house for each course and M lives just a few blocks away and said she's game!! Yay!

Excited much?!?

My pajama party is today... my intention yesterday was to go home and clean like a crazy person and then collapse in a heap on the floor, only awake enough to growl menacingly at any family member who even thought about dropping a crumb or not putting dishes in the dishwasher. Well, the road to hell and all that... I cleaned the living room like a crazy person and then (again, much like a crazy person) got distracted by the loud, shiny box in front of the big, soft thing (that is, I took a long nap in bed with the TV on).

I did some preparing later - some mixing and a little baking and some more cleaning. I was shocked at how much laundry had not been done. Apparently my laundry boy has not been keeping up with demand (but then we knew that yesterday, didn't we?). It's still not all done - and not just the laundry. I went to Wal Mart and bought lots of fruit and veggies - don't be too proud, they'll both be served with dip. I was working in the kitchen when a rogue can of ravioli fell from the cabinet and landed on my toe. I think it went something like, "Oh shitty fuck, fuck. Fuckity damn fucking fuck. Ow ow ow ow." From the den, my husband called out, "Everything ok in there?" Peachy fucking keen, jelly bean. I had to stop cleaning as I was bleeding on the floor and we had no band aids. So I cleaned myself up, wrapped my toe in a panty liner. Yes, a panty liner - toilet paper would have just stuck to it and gotten the wound all linty. Don't judge me, it worked.

I woke up at 3:30 this morning thinking, "I don't have any Sharpies. We must have Sharpies in every imaginable color so that we can label our plastic wine glasses." I couldn't get back to sleep... but going to Wal Mart at 4 a.m. for Sharpies is just on the other side of crazy from where I like to be. I got up and took a shower and turned the laundry around and started the dishwasher and sat on the couch with a book and a cat for about half an hour and suddenly I had a list of things that I did not buy last night that were necessary to the success of my party. Because going to Wal Mart at 4 a.m. for Sharpies is wacko, but going to Wal Mart at 5, on my way to work, for paper plates in two sizes, Kleenex, band aids and extra water (and Sharpies) is NOT crazy, it's practical.

I'll have about four hours once I get off to clean the bathroom and the den and to get all of my snacks out... and Andie is coming over at 3 to help with final preparations before everyone else arrives. I'm excited and nervous... what if nobody comes? What if people come but have a really bad time? What if everyone is allergic to cats? What if there is a sudden ice storm at 2 this afternoon? What if there aren't enough places to sit? What if nobody talks and I start that nervous talking thing. Monkey, monkey, underpants. Seriously.

The husband says I need to relax (duh) because all of these people are my friends and everything will be fine. I say other than Christmas Eve I have not had a party at my house with more than four people since I was in 8th grade and so how does he know?

(Deep breath in, and breeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaathe).

Of course it will be fine. How hard is a party anyway?!? You invite every nice person you know, set a theme, buy presents for prizes, buy supplies like Sharpies and napkins. You clean, set out some food and turn the heater up a little higher than usual. You kick the husband and child out of the house for a few hours and drink some wine and laugh a lot and sneak out for cigarettes with the two or three other smokers.

And you wear your tiara.

Monkey, Monkey, Underpants.

Anyone else watch Gilmore Girls this week? I'm having a "monkey, monkey, underpants" kind of day.
All morning I've been singing a little song to myself... "My party is tomorrow, my party is tomorrow!!" Then every so often there's another, decidedly less cheerful verse, "I have to clean my house today, I have to clean my house today."
I also, apparently, have to do some laundry. Usually the husband takes over the laun-drag, the laun-drudgery, but this morning I woke up early in the dark and fumbled around for clean clothes. I found a clean shirt and clean sweat pants and even (gasp) clean socks! But there are some missing elements to my ensemble today.
Let's just say: I didn't find London, I didn't find France and I didn't find some other things that I normally wouldn't leave the house without. Usually they're folded nicely in my top dresser drawer... and if they're not there they're at least in the dryer with all of their buddies and sometimes some towels. But today I woke up late (6:40, I'm on the air at 7:00) and didn't have time to track anything down.
Sigh.
I did make it to work on time though.
The problem is that I need to go to Sam's. My intention was to go right after work... but I think I might just go home for awhile first. Maybe hit Sams tomorrow before the party. Which would be better for a few reasons: the husband won't be home to inspect my purchases if I shop on Sunday, I will be very limited in terms of time as I get off at noon and my party is at 4 so I will have less time to browse (translation: wander aimlessly through the over-sized aisles dazed by the fact that you can buy hot fudge in GALLON JUGS!!!), and... there was a third thing, but I got distracted by the thought of hot fudge in gallon jugs.

I had a dream last night that my idiot sister and her (icky) husband stole $10,000 in tens and twenties from my dad and I found out where they were keeping it and stole it back. The rest of the dream was the (icky) husband and the (idiot) sister tracking me down and threatening me. I had the cash on me the whole time, too. I had somehow managed to fold it all down and stuff it in my bra. What the hell is THAT about?!?

Bean and I were grocery shopping the other day and I bought some things for the party... we realized as we were checking out that I had purchased an amazing amount of cheese.

I am actually sort of looking forward to cleaning my house. Well, in an abstract sort of way. I like the way my area rug looks after it's been vacuumed. And I like the way the bathroom smells after it's been cloroxed within an inch of it's life. And I like it when the kitchen cabinets are mostly empty and clean. I just don't like that I have to DO all of that.

My clean house, the kittens and I will see some of you tomorrow. There will be lots of cheese. Maybe I should also serve Lactaid!

Better than yesterday!

I got him to the doctor. Hallelujah.
Dr. N is really great - if she weren't my doctor we would be friends. She was gentle with him but firm... his blood pressure is high. Scary high. Stroke and/or aneurysm high. Blood in the brain high. She gave us samples of a blood pressure medicine and an anti-depressant and orders to come in in two weeks for a checkup. He might even actually go. She talked to him about the fact that he needed to feel comfortable with her and see his health as something they could work on together. I really love her.
And I really love him. I knew he had high blood pressure. It was on my list of things to work on once I got him to actually GO to the doctor. I just had no idea how high.
So we're home and his idiot friend is here and they're in the man-den scratching themselves and gritching about wives and work.
I know that it will take a little while for the medications to make any difference at all for him, but I already feel better.

So what the hell was the deal with Top Chef tonight?? I have developed this quiet, little chef crush on Sam. (Ok, I'm totally in love with Sam and would probably eat rat poo if he would prepare it and feed it to me while wearing that sweetie little knitted cap... le sigh). I won't go into any details for those of you who haven't watched it yet, but JEEZ LOUISE!! And what the fuck IS it with Marcel and the fucking FOAM all the time. Ass.
And I like to think of myself as adventurous in terms of what I will eat... but the whole raw fish and root vegetable that has to be cooked long enough not to cause an allergic reaction thing is more than I can bear.
But I would love to eat fresh pineapple and roasted pork and warm summer breezes and fire eaters make me happy. And coconut milk puddings and hula dancing...

Small, good things

My iPod Shuffle came. It's so small!!

I can't believe it holds 250 songs... but I downloaded two whole cd's and it barely registered on the "fullness" scale. Rockin' cool, right?



Here it is with my new tiny purse and my Burt's Bees chap stick for scale...



Can you believe that I am functional with a tiny purse?? If only it could hold as much as my iPod. That would be really cool. Someone should really invent the tiny purse that holds everything in the whole world - a sort of fashionable version of the Mary Poppins carpet bag.



My new purse and my iPod (and, as far as that goes, my Burt's Bees chap stick) are very good things. My husband lately? Not so great. He is trying to keep himself together and I am trying to keep from spending any more money. Even retail therapy has it's limits. (Kerri has vowed to stage an intervention if I get any more deliveries at the station).

The husband is spiraling. Not working at the station, plus job he hates more than anything else in the world, plus his dad's decline and death equals serious depression and anxiety. He is moody and weepy and he can't seem to leave the house for more than an hour at a time. Oh, and he is also pathologically afraid of doctors. In a way that I can not even begin to try to explain. He needs something for depression and something else for his anxiety attacks... so my goal tomorrow is to try to get Dr. N to see him in her office (and not in an exam room) and prescribe serious medication without weighing him or taking his blood pressure.
No, he won't see a therapist. Not even a grief counselor.

He talked to his mother tonight (twice). The first time she told him I probably married him for his money and the second time she told him he had better get his act together because I was a "headstrong woman" who would leave him if he didn't.
First of all, what money? Seriously. When I met him he was living in his parent's basement and working 25 hours a week at a university job that paid just over minimum wage. When we got married I still made almost twice what he did and right now he's barely working. What freaking money?!?
Second, she does not know me well enough to make suppositions about why I did anything in the past or what I might be inclined to do in the future.
Third, why kick the man when he's already as far down as he can get? Why take someone who is already emotionally fragile and prone to anxiety attacks and give him something else to be really afraid of?

He is asleep now, and I have eaten everything chocolate in the house.

So here's a not to all of the small, good things that help me through the day:
my new iPod
Sammie purring and mrrrrping
Bean's funny stories
my DVR
making the husband laugh
chocolate ice cream
caffeine
Xanax (that one might belong on the top of the list)
comfy pants
sleep
knitting

Here's to a better tomorrow...

Snowy Day Pictures

More snow.

Seriously.

I fell in the snow twice yesterday... it would have been three times but I was in the grocery store and was able to hold on desperately to the cart. Boy am I graceful. It wasn't snowing at all when I left the house early yesterday morning and even thought I knew there was supposed to be "some" snow I was not quite awake and wore Crocs with socks so my feet were soaked all the way through by the time I made it home.

I actually have pictures of the snow (in my new camera) but I have misplaced the USB cable (of course) so while I can look at them to my heart's content I can't yet share them.
Crap.

Those of you who know me (in real life anyway) have seen the ridiculously large purse I carry. It's ginormous. It can hold a hardback book, knitting project, makeup, a variety of pens, my wallet, keys, hairbrush, umbrella, snacks, camera, small children and a change of clothes. It weighs about as much as my ten-year-old. On the plus side, I can fit everything I could ever need in it and I was always prepared... and it made my ass appear smaller in comparison. On the minus side, carrying around 80 pounds of crap is not good for my back and shoulders. I have been thinking about going in the total opposite direction and buying a tiny purse that could only fit the essentials... so I did it. I bought a new purse. It is so small that I had to clean out my wallet for it to fit inside. I think that my bra cup is bigger than this purse.

Why do I always go to extremes? Why can't I find (as my first and only golf instructor said) "a happy medium"? I have heard that women's purses are indicative of how the woman feels about herself. Apparently I'm going from "all-purpose and always prepared for anything" to "no nonsense, essentials only." I would be willing to bet that my sudden need for a smaller purse has more to do with my new role as "family counselor" for my husband and his mother (who won't go talk to anyone else. Believe me when I say I have TRIED and continue to try) and my need to carry less emotionally than it does with my need to carry less physically.

You know what's going to happen, right? I'm going to end up carrying the purse AND a tote bag with the rest of the crap in it and I'll just end up carrying more.

Cute as an antidote...

Sometimes you just need a dose of cute. Try Cute Addict. I am constantly amazed that cute really does counteract a bad mood. Yesterday I locked my keys in my car. At a nursing home. I had not been to that nursing home before, so I already felt really stupid - you know, as I had to ask the nurses and aides where things were. Every one of them looked at me in this completely snotty way, stopping just short of rolling their eyes before directing me to the room or patient I needed to see. Jeez.
Then last night the husband had a panic attack. A big one. Big enough that he said maybe he needed to be medicated or talk to someone or something. (All of which he will denounce today, by the way). He is having a really tough time right now - his dad's death combined with the stress of his job (which is really just surfacing "what-the-hell-am-i-going-to-do-with-the-rest-of-my-life" stress). Ain't life a bitch?
Anyway, Bean and the husband and I cuddled up in bed last night with the laptop and looked through Cute Addict. We especially liked the Liger (pretty much my favorite animal, look under "Lions") and all of the kitten and penguin stuff. Whatever works, right?

About Hospice... I am getting back into the swing of things. In one way it is much easier settling in this semester because I know what I'm supposed to be doing, but in another way it's much more difficult because every patient reminds me of the husband's father and every family member I speak with reminds me that I can't really do anything for anyone going through this - not even my own family. So that's rough. But I can do anything for 16 weeks, right?

On a good note: my pajama party is eight days away. I need to clean my house and buy food and finish my knitting project so that I can just relax and feel like I am prepared. I have a list of food that I want to serve and some backup dishes in case we run out of food (not likely, I tend to serve way too much no matter HOW many people are coming). If everyone who RSVP'd "yes" shows up we have about 20 people. Not bad, eh? I am already formulating a plan for a second party at the end of March. We'll see how it goes.

Are you SURE it's not Monday??

So this morning my windshield wipers stopped working. What I mean by that is that they worked just long enough to go from their resting spot all the way up and then refused to come down.
Crap.
So I went to a mechanic and they turned the wipers on. Nothing happened. They lifted the wiper blades individually and let them boing down on the windshield. More nothing. They chipped at the ice around the wipers, opened the hood and wiggled stuff around, poured hot water on the hood of the car. Again with the nothing. "Hmmmm," said the skinny one. "Hmmmmm," said the not-so-skinny one. "It's probably just froze up in there." They advised me to park it in the sunshine and hope for the best.
Seriously.
So I parked it in the sunshine and now the blades move about a quarter of an inch down and then right back up every 30 seconds or so... but only when it's off.
Crap.
Tomorrow I have class all day. ALL DAY. 9:30 to 4:30 and then I have to work and then it's KIP (yay). Hello, University? I'm a PART-time student. As in not full-time. As in 6 hours, not 9. I am a part-time student because I do not have time in my life to be a full-time or even 3/4-time student. STOP MESSING WITH MY SCHEDULE!!! Anyway, no time in there to take it back to Goober and Elmer.
Double crap.
So I'm almost home tonight. We were almost at the turn that would take us to our very own street when something occurred to me. I had scheduled a boy scout troop to visit the station some evening this week... I knew it wasn't last night, and I knew it wasn't Wednesday... So either tonight or Thursday... So Bean and I drove back to the station (making the requisite stop at Quik Trip for provisions) so that I could check my desk for the bitty scrap of paper that had the information I needed. I called the husband - who picked a stupid fight about NOTHING but managed to make me grumpy anyway - and came back to work. They are, indeed, coming tonight at 6.
Crap.
Can we just fast forward to Friday? And can somebody loan me a crowbar to pry my husband away from his bad mood?? Oh, and while we're at it, can we invent a chocolate cake that tastes like chocolate cake but doesn't have any sugar or fat???

Speaking of cake - I sent the vet clinic a chocolate cake with a card that read "Thanks for the purrfect care, love Sammie." It's the little things, right?

Exhale

Sammie went back to the vet today and she is doing really well. (Yay!!) Her levels are almost back to normal and we can stop locking her up in the dog crate. The vet (Dr. Bill) is really impressed wilt her progress and said we must have done something really right. We go back in next Monday for another check but she is really good.

Sammie celebrated by zooming around the house and terrorizing Serena (who has been hissing and taunting her all week).

I feel like we're finally going to be able to get back to some kind of normal. Now that Bean is better and the kitten is better and we know we're not going to lose her.

The husband is hitting a tolerance wall at work. He's ready to quit and I'm all for it. Quit while we have a small financial cushion. Quit while there are jobs available. Quit before I kill you for being such a frustrated ass at home because you hate your job so much!!!

Andie and I are trying to motivate eachother to go to the gym. My goal is 3 times a week to start and it goes like this: If we both make goal we go to the movies and pay for ourselves. If I make goal and she doesnt she buys my movie (and vice-versa) and if neither of us makes goal we (gasp) can't go to a movie. We'll see if it works. Wish me... not luck... motivation. Wish me motivation and energy.

Hope you all are well!!

Ice, Ice Baby too Cold...

It's 16 degrees outside and sleet is falling... encasing my car in a sheet of ice. I hate sleet. I don't mind the driving around in it - I'm a pretty good driver and I have that evil SUV that has great traction and can also drive over everyone else. What I hate is being cold. I also hate the scritchy sound of ice being scraped from my windows.

If I were home, contemplating the possibility of fashioning a stew of some sort from the contents of my pantry, I would be happy enough with the sleet. If I did not have to be at work tomorrow morning before sunrise I would be happy enough with the sleet. I would make my stew and snuggle down with my sick kitten and watch bad TV.

But I am at work. Of course. I did contemplate bringing a sleeping bag and just living here this weekend... but there is no shower at the station. And also? Thursday I saw the biggest cockroach I have ever seen loitering in front of the door. Seriously. I lived in Alabama and this was still the biggest roach. It was, like, 2 1/2 inches long. I have witnesses. (I also took a picture of it, but there is nothing to show scale so it's not that impressive). I was actually afraid to open the door because I thought it might attack me. Or it might have been a scout and given some signal to a band of roving roaches.
Or something.

So we had my mother's birthday dinner last night. It was fine. My (idiot) sister came and brought the kids so that was nice. I haven't seen any of them since September. They all changed a lot - especially the baby, of course. He is a fat, happy little spitter-upper. I was there early (of course) and she was on time and my parents were about 15 minutes late. So we had a nice, polite conversation that managed not to devolve into hair pulling and screaming. And apparently she did marry that asshole. At the end of October. That's showing us you're a grown up! Marry the guy we hate in secret and then HIDE it for 3 months. Whatever. At least she didn't tell us before she got married. It certainly saved me about seven hundred "what are we going to do about your sister" calls. Tell you what I'm going to do - I'm going to buy her a Target gift certificate and mail it to her in a nice card. I don't think she is making good decisions. In fact, I think she's a fucking idiot... but everyone has the right to make their own bad decisions. The least (and I mean the very least) I can do is buy her a wedding present.

I am knitting!! I decided I need a long, skinny scarf to wear with my pajamas for my party so I am using this fabulous sock yarn that I got in the KIP yarn exchange (thanks Ingrid!!) and knitting a long, 10 stitches per row (after row, after row, after row) of garter stitch. It's fast, it's colorful and it's simple. (Yay).
I would post a picture, but it looks pretty boring. It's like a striped pink and red blanket for a really long snake.

Nobody Else is Allowed to Get Sick!

The school nurse called me yesterday and said that Bean was having difficulty breathing. Suddenly I, also, had some trouble breathing. I called both dads on the way and got there in less than five minutes. The husband met me there. Sweetie man. The nurse said her lungs sounded clear, but she was scared and pale and her hands were clammy. She thought it was an allergic reaction to lunch - she had pigs in a blanket and kiwi and peaches. Bean said she thought it was the pigs in a blanket. I'm going to vote for the kiwi.

So we went to Walgreens to buy Benedryl. We got through the store and then she threw up all over herself and me and the trash can in front of the store. I got her home and her lips were swelling up so I put her in the tub and got some Benedryl fastmelts in her and she felt better in about thirty minutes.

Scared me stupid. Seriously.

Then the vet called with good news/bad news. Sammie's bloodwork all came back negative. So good news: she doesn't have a parasite or some other horrible disease. Bad news: we still have no idea why she's so sick.
She doesn't look that sick, though does she?
She looks kind of pissed off that she has to stay in the cage.

We're hoping to be able to take her home today... my bazillion dollar kitten.

Sick Kitten...

Sammie is very sick and the vet is supposed to call me later today. Sunday night we noticed that she was bleeding and that it was coming from her teeth. At midnight I called the emergency vet and took her in. They thought it was an infection and said that her blood was clotting slow but that she was probably ok. They sent us home with antibiotics.

Yesterday I discovered that kittens don't like antibiotics any more than babies do, and while you can mix the icky pink stuff with apple juice for the baby, the kitten is a different story all together. I noticed that she was really sleepy yesterday - I thought the medicine was making her feel bad. I know I always feel bad when I'm taking antibiotics. She slept with us last night and had more or less stopped bleeding and her breath smelled MUCH better. I thought these were good signs.

She had an appointment anyway today for declawing and so I took her in. She didn't vocalize at all in the car on the way - which I thought was a bit odd... We checked her in and they asked if I would consent to bloodwork before her surgery. There were two "levels" - partial and complete. Since she had been sick I opted for the "complete," asked them to check her teeth again while she was zonked out and then I went back home and took Bean to school.

They called about an hour later, I had just pulled into the parking lot at the station. Sammie has a fever and is dangerously anemic. It's either a parasite or some kind of poisoning - they have more or less ruled poising out at this point, but they are treating her for everything they can and her bloodwork is going to a bigger lab. I left work and went in to see her... I felt like such an idiot because I coldn't stop crying. Dr. Gary and Dr. Bill came out to talk to me and comfort me. They let me sit with her for awhile - she was the same as always. They had taken blood so there was alcohol on her fur and she had to clean that off first - there is nothing less graceful than a cat licking the fur just under her chin. Once she did that she settled in my arms and purred and when I started crying she put her paws on my face. She went to sleep so I took her back in and came back to work.

When I took Bean to school this morning we all still thought she was going in for claws so she doesn't know anything yet. I told her we could visit Sammie after school... we still will as long as there isn't anything really bad going on.

My husband is a wreck about this - residual grief and all that. I hope she recovers. I hope we can bring her home in a few days and pamper her little ears off. I hope Bean doesn't have to endure another death...

So hug your kitties tonight and send good thoughts to my baby.

Migraines, Battery Issues and Yay Pelosi!

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I had crawled into a bottle of tequila and died. (I hadn't, actually, had any tequila - just so you know). Being at work so early in the morning suuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks when your eyes feel like they're going to burst out of your head like that guy on Pirates of the Caribbean. It also means you can't take any of your prescription medicine... unless you want to fall asleep on the board and drool on the blinky lights and incur the wrath of your boss for falling asleep and your engineer for getting his board all drooley. I assure you that I wanted neither of these things. I did have some otc migraine medicine at work (clever girl) but that only works a little bit.

I went to pick up Bean from my mom's house and right as we were about to leave she decided to stay another night. Seriously. My head hurt too bad to yell, "YOU MEAN I COULD BE IN BED RIGHT NOW, ZONKED OUT OF MY MIND AND SLEEPING THIS REDICULOUS MIGRAINE OFF BUT INSTEAD I DROVE ALL THE WAY OUT HERE TO PICK YOU UP AND YOU DON'T EVEN WANT TO COME HOME??!!" Lucky her.

It's still lingering... the way they do. And I couldn't sleep last night. I took a shower at about 2 and watched a gazillion episodes of M*A*S*H. That Klinger really cracks me up. At 4:30 or so our smoke alarm began to chirp. I thought I'd be smart and take the battery out (just out of the chirping one and then I'd replace it this afternoon) but when I took the battery out it kept chirping. I stood underneath it and actually yelled, "Seriously?!?" which woke the husband. He was convinced that chirping every sixty seconds meant we were going to die in a fiery ball, so at 4:45 I'm online and he's trying to read the model number so we can find the user's manual on the website. Turns out we have this really cool set of smoke detectors that are connected AND rely on power from the house with a battery backup. The battery was, indeed, the only thing about to die. The chirping won't stop until I replace the battery - and I don't keep 9-volts on hand. AA Batteries? Swimming in them. 9-volts? Didn't even know they still made them.

So I don't get political on this blog... but isn't this Nancy Pelosi thing cool?? I really hope she doesn't make us (women and democrats) look like idiots. You know the conservative media is just waiting to pounce on her for something. But first woman speaker of the house AND democratic majority at the same time is worthy of cake. It's the first thing politically that I have WANTED to explain to my daughter.

"You look like a grown up!"

That's what my mom said when she picked Bean up tonight. I'm wearing my new Christmas clothes... purchased with the many gift certificates I got from Lane Bryant. (Do people know me or what?!?). I guess the only thing she ever sees me wear is pajamas (especially lately) and jeans. Well, I've got some grown up clothes now and I'm not afraid to wear them. I am afraid to spill something on them, though.

Why am I so dressed up and out on the town on a Friday evening? It's the first Friday of the month and it's book club night. I'm really looking forward to this one - I don't know that I "got" the book, but it was really well written and I am interested in seeing what everyone else thought. The next book is Thomas Pynchon's new book Against The Day, which is apparently a thousand pages of crazy. We're reading it over two months. I'm more than a little intimidated. I tried to start it a few weeks ago, but with all of the grieving and eating and sleeping going on at my house, not to mention the kitten nonsense, it was difficult to concentrate. This feels like one of those books that you really need to absorb. I think it's good that we didn't start it for January - I don't know that anyone had time to really spend with it over the holidays.

Everyone I've talked to says the holidays this year were particularly difficult/stressful/tiring. Interesting that so many of us had the same type of year. With any luck 2007 will be better... it's ok so far, but we're only five days in. 2006 seemed fine and dandy five days in, now didn't it? (Actually, no, but that's another story).

I have managed to ignore every good food intention I have had so far this year. Bean and I went to the bread store yesterday. It's this little bakery just down the street from her school and they have the best bread in the world. Their cookies don't suck, either. We used to go in every Wednesday and then we got busy and then we moved and then, and then, and then... but we still manage to go every so often. When we walk in we're greeted like family and the woman behind the counter practically forces us to sit and sample bread. We drink milk and eat slices of fresh bread with (real) butter and we talk to her. And somehow we end up buying cookies and bread and scones and jam. This morning for breakfast I had honey wheat bread with apple cranberry butter. Seriously. And we bought this sun dried tomato bread that is fantastic with cream cheese and cucumbers... or with sharp cheddar and turkey... or all by it's self. (~le sigh~)

Today was officially my last stay in bed like a sick person" day. Hospice starts on Monday and classes start the following Wednesday. I have bid for two of my books on Ebay... if I just go to the bookstore I'll spend more than $175 for two books. (I know, right?) But on Ebay I can (potentially) get them $75 for both. Love Ebay. Sometimes a little too much.

Well, I'm off to try to sound smarter than I really am... in general this involves me not saying anything and nodding thoughtfully a lot and then saying, "Good point, does anyone else want to elaborate on that thought?"

I guess I really am supposed to be a therapist.

Easing into normal

Andie's back from North Carolina, Bean's back in school and all is right with the world.
I love my child. Of course I love her. She has a fantastic personality, she's smart and well behaved, and she has a great sense of humor. Oh, and she's my child. The sun rises and sets on her... but I am SOOOOO glad she's back in school. It's really sad, she was only home for a few days through the entire break and she was driving me freaking nuts. She does this... talking thing (I know, where'd she get that charming trait?) and after about an hour of her narrating everything she and I (and the people on TV) do I'm ready to run into the street screaming.

And Andie... she visits her mom every year for Christmas, leaving me all alone with my own family and the people at work for two or three weeks at a time. This year her family broke all "Bad Christmas" records. Even the death and the sister-feud in my life are pretty tame compared to her Christmas hell.

But she's back!! And we went to a movie last night (Night at the Museum) for the first time in almost a month. As much as I have loved the break after last semester it is nice to have some normalcy back. Hospice starts on Monday and classes start on the 17th... it's nice to be able to ease back into my crazy schedule after a month of sleeping a lot and accomplishing nothing. I am not looking forward to this semester at all. Nine hours of class (Nine!!! Are they trying to KILL ME?!?) which includes one class in research methods. That involves the maths. Not a big fan of the maths.


I am also getting ready to start a new knitting project. I'm not willing to share it yet... I will post pictures if it works out. I looked at the pattern and it seems easy enough but the pattern is sort of... involved... and I may still be in a place where rows and rows of garter stitch are as much as I can manage. We'll see. I also have more projects than I can name on the needles... I need to sort through and frog what will never be finished and finish what I can. I could do that right now, actually...

Or I could just nap. You know, while I still can.

Happy New Year!!

I posted my first picture for Nap Lover 365 and I put a link to the new site on the sidebar. I am a little disappointed that there wasn't anything more original in my camera by the end of the day... but then all I did today was exchange my printer and go to work. Oh well. I have 364 more days to get creative and wow you all with my photographic prowess.
Right. I have a feeling it's going to be 365 days of kittens, yarn and food... well, it keeps me busy and off the street, right?
New Year's Eve was fine - Em and her husband came over. He had just had surgery on his toenails (bleh) so he wasn't up for much... but then my husband isn't much of a party guy these days either. They hid in the man den and played video games. D was a good sport, though. My husband played some of his Irish folk music and D didn't come out and insist they leave immediately.
Em and I talked and ate and I knitted and she crochet... um, crocheted? She did come crochet. (The English major in me has apparently gone skiing for the holidays).

WHICH REMINDS ME!!!

Don't forget that I'm having a party on the last Sunday of this month (1/28) and you're all invited. It's the First Annual Nap Lover's Post-Holiday Pajama Party. It will be from 4 - 8 pm (ish) and there will be PRIZES for best pj's and best foot-wear (socks or slippers). I will be getting the invitations ready in the next few days but if you don't get one for some reason you're still invited!! BYOB - wine or soft drinks or whatever... I'll have water and tea and lots of snackies.

Parties are fun. Also, they are great motivators to clean my house.

And the psycho kitties will be spending the afternoon in the laundry room.

I'm off to play with my new printer now!