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...