So, it's been a while since I've blogged. Ok, a LONG while. But I have been totally buried up to my eyeballs at work, people. And freelance work. And then more work. But never fear, because just before they squeezed the last tiny sliver of life out of my soul -- I am on vacation!! I made it! I am in the Reno airport, people, and besides the minor detail of my entire brand new bottle of Aussie hairspray (lidless, I might add) exploding in my luggage, and the fact that I just spent 30 minutes in the bathroom trying to get it off of everything -- besides that -- I just discovered that the lovely Reno airport has FREE WIRELESS INTERNET. So that almost makes up for the fact that everything I own smells like purple. Cuz you know, that's what Aussie hairspray smells like. Purple.
Anyway. I have a mere three hours to kill here in the good ole Reno airport before my friends arrive from Austin. That's why I ended up bringing my laptop at the last minute -- while I did not know of the FREE WIRELESS INTERNET, I do have some freelance work to finish up. Erm, yes. I have ... work to do. On my vacation. Shut up. At least I'm here!!!
So in case you were wondering, if anyone still reads this that is, we are not vacationing in Reno. NO, we are vacationing at Lake Tahoe! Oh, you might ask, isn't that the lake that has been on fire all week? Why yes, it has! And it still is! But we did not buy travel insurance, so figured we'd tough it out anyway since we can't get refunds. Plus our resort swears up and down "it's not even smoky up here! honest!" So...it should be an adventure no matter what, right? More on that later. I'm sure there will be more.
And I become happier by the moment that I grabbed my laptop at the last second.....
more updates coming soon! maybe i'll actually be inspired to write this week, when I don't HAVE to -- well, other than that pesky freelance project I mean... which I hopefully will finish up and send off before the gang ever even arrives in lovely Nevada.
Ciao for now!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
floating.
I have never particularly liked islands. In fact, they've always made me nervous. I know better now, but it doesn't change my misperception as a child that an island was land that floated above the ocean -- you know, like a boat. A boat that could sink. Anyone who knows me knows I have issues with ocean water (as in, I won't get IN it), so the thought of walking around on dirt precariously floating above gilled dinosaur fish, aliens, and who knows what all else lurks in the bottom recesses of the ocean, was less than attractive. (I also have issues with lakes, thanks to Stephen King's The Mist. That story about a mysterious fog that rolls in over a lake and brings with it scary and horrifying and icky things scared the bejesus out of me in 9th grade, since I read it while on vacation at my Aunt and Uncle's -- you guessed it -- lakehouse.)
Ah yes, but back to my point. The point is that tonight, as I floated in my ginormous bathtub, I was doing my bathtub meditation thing and my gaze drifted down to the remaining bubbles floating on the water. I'd been in there about 20-25 minutes, so all that were left were the tiny, effervescent ones all joined together in different shapes that float along like...well, like islands. I leaned my head down and gently blew right onto Italy, and watched as a perfect circle formed in the middle and drifted, morphing, until it broke off into two little bubble islands.
I imagined that I was looking at the ocean from space. That I was an astronaut. Then I imagined that I was God, that I was watching the earth form over a period of time. I thought deeply about this for a moment, picturing how so many tiny people lived on the islands, musing, when my eyes drifted downward and rested on my feet in the bottom of the tub, barely discernible beneath the cloudy bathwater.
Damn, I thought, I really need a pedicure. My vacation is in a week... my vacation that is at a...............lake.
Ah yes, but back to my point. The point is that tonight, as I floated in my ginormous bathtub, I was doing my bathtub meditation thing and my gaze drifted down to the remaining bubbles floating on the water. I'd been in there about 20-25 minutes, so all that were left were the tiny, effervescent ones all joined together in different shapes that float along like...well, like islands. I leaned my head down and gently blew right onto Italy, and watched as a perfect circle formed in the middle and drifted, morphing, until it broke off into two little bubble islands.
I imagined that I was looking at the ocean from space. That I was an astronaut. Then I imagined that I was God, that I was watching the earth form over a period of time. I thought deeply about this for a moment, picturing how so many tiny people lived on the islands, musing, when my eyes drifted downward and rested on my feet in the bottom of the tub, barely discernible beneath the cloudy bathwater.
Damn, I thought, I really need a pedicure. My vacation is in a week... my vacation that is at a...............lake.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
my life as a spy and the freckled redhead
It was summertime in Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas. Probably 1979-80, I don't remember exactly. I was a bookworm and my favorite book at the time was Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh. I so admired Harriet. I wanted to be Harriet. So I became Harriet. with the help of my friend Diane Dunovan (sp). That sticky Kansas summer was spent hiding under the bushes planted outside almost every duplex on base - bushes my mom referred to as "funeral bushes". I have no idea what they were actually called, but they made good hiding places, that is a fact. Each duplex in my neighborhood had several concrete steps up to a tiny concrete porch leading into a rickety 3-bedroom home that might or might not have a basement. They were all exactly the same, except for the basement factor. We had one and oh how we loved it. But that's another story...
Diane was a gawky like me, pale like me, more freckled than me, bespectacled like me, and had light, carrot-colored red hair--unlike me. (I just realized I have had redheaded friends my whole life; Kirsten, Diane, Kelly and now Kirby -- hmmm.....) Diane was as nerdy and bookwormy as me, and maybe even a little bit more shy. We were also in girl scouts together. Again, another story for another time... In any event, she would pretty much do whatever I wanted to do. And this summer, I wanted to spy. So we both bought spiral-bound notebooks and began creeping around our neighborhood for hours at a time, "spying" on people. We would hide under the bushes and listen. In all honestly, I don't remember a thing we "found out" about anyone, as it was more about the covert ops than about anything we might have overheard. I can still smell the evergreen bush, feel the gritty dirt under my knees as I knelt, poised to run if discovered, notebook in one hand and pen in the other. I wish I knew where those notebooks are now; my mom no doubt has them somewhere in her attic, but it might be decades before they're unearthed... anyway, kneeling under the evergreens, trying to be still, trying not to giggle at Diane's funny faces; my heart pounding in my chest, wondering how much trouble we would get into if we got found out--those were the days of summer. I don't remember if we ever were discovered, I just remember the adrenaline rush that kept us going throughout that long, hot, Kansas summer. Me and Diane.
The summer before 5th grade, Diane's family moved away to Ft. Riley, KS. It was the way of the military; you met people and befriended them in two or four-year increments, then one of you moved on and most likely you lost touch. I really hated to see Diane go, though; she was quirky and could make me laugh at almost anything. I remember going to visit her in Ft. Riley for a few days late in the summer, and it already wasn't the same. She had a new baby brother and she was having a hard time adjusting. While awkward at first, we warmed up to each other over the next few days, and we spent the nights in sleeping bags on the giant screened-in front porch of her parent's house. Talking and giggling until we fell into sweaty sleep, then reluctantly rising with the sun. We would talk about everything -- moving, school, boys. I remember one night we pretended to be each other's boyfriend and took turns holding hands and kissing on the lips -- such innocent pretending, such high hopes. We would try to be serious, as we imagined a boy and girl would be in such a situation, but without fail we would dissolve into a pile of giggles. Someday we would know, for real. And we would sure as shit talk to each about it.
And then school started and another year passed, and the next summer my family moved back to San Antonio. And Diane and I lost touch for good. I wrote her a few letters, but she never responded, so eventually I just stopped. We would get Christmas cards from her family every year, and one year, while I was in 8th or 9th grade, the card came and said that Diane was very ill. Maybe terminally ill. With some unpronounceable illness neither my mom nor myself can remember now. Her mom explained in the card that that was why Diane had lost touch; she didn't want to explain to anyone what was happening to her. We were so, so young. She must have been so, so scared. I like to think I tried writing to her again after that, but I truly don't remember. My feelings had been hurt when she hadn't responded years earlier, and even knowing the reason why didn't make it stop hurting. In fact, it made it worse. That was the last time we heard from her family.
In the craziness that was puberty and first love and teenage angst and dad-wars, the high-school years passed and I didn't really think about Diane that much -- and with each passing year, the memories faded. But I've never stopped wondering what happened to her. I have googled her, but no luck. I also don't remember exactly how she spelled her last name, so that's also a hindrance. I think she's probably gone. And that makes me really sad.
She was the quirky, redheaded girl who pretended to be my boyfriend; who listened to my silly, girlish hopes and dreams; who even crept around underneath the bushes all summer, dutifully taking notes on every screaming toddler that rolled by on a Big Wheel. Ah, the glamorous life on an army base.
I hope Diane had the chance to have a real boyfriend, as I did. I hope she knew how much I cared for her. I wonder if she ever thought of me in those later years. I wonder if she might still be alive. I wonder, but I may never know.
And that's the thing about life that really eats at me; so many people pass through our lives, people who are huge or small influences on us at one time or another, and then they can just be gone, just like that, and no matter how hard you look, you can't find them again. I hate losing people.
I hate losing Diane Dunavon.
Diane was a gawky like me, pale like me, more freckled than me, bespectacled like me, and had light, carrot-colored red hair--unlike me. (I just realized I have had redheaded friends my whole life; Kirsten, Diane, Kelly and now Kirby -- hmmm.....) Diane was as nerdy and bookwormy as me, and maybe even a little bit more shy. We were also in girl scouts together. Again, another story for another time... In any event, she would pretty much do whatever I wanted to do. And this summer, I wanted to spy. So we both bought spiral-bound notebooks and began creeping around our neighborhood for hours at a time, "spying" on people. We would hide under the bushes and listen. In all honestly, I don't remember a thing we "found out" about anyone, as it was more about the covert ops than about anything we might have overheard. I can still smell the evergreen bush, feel the gritty dirt under my knees as I knelt, poised to run if discovered, notebook in one hand and pen in the other. I wish I knew where those notebooks are now; my mom no doubt has them somewhere in her attic, but it might be decades before they're unearthed... anyway, kneeling under the evergreens, trying to be still, trying not to giggle at Diane's funny faces; my heart pounding in my chest, wondering how much trouble we would get into if we got found out--those were the days of summer. I don't remember if we ever were discovered, I just remember the adrenaline rush that kept us going throughout that long, hot, Kansas summer. Me and Diane.
The summer before 5th grade, Diane's family moved away to Ft. Riley, KS. It was the way of the military; you met people and befriended them in two or four-year increments, then one of you moved on and most likely you lost touch. I really hated to see Diane go, though; she was quirky and could make me laugh at almost anything. I remember going to visit her in Ft. Riley for a few days late in the summer, and it already wasn't the same. She had a new baby brother and she was having a hard time adjusting. While awkward at first, we warmed up to each other over the next few days, and we spent the nights in sleeping bags on the giant screened-in front porch of her parent's house. Talking and giggling until we fell into sweaty sleep, then reluctantly rising with the sun. We would talk about everything -- moving, school, boys. I remember one night we pretended to be each other's boyfriend and took turns holding hands and kissing on the lips -- such innocent pretending, such high hopes. We would try to be serious, as we imagined a boy and girl would be in such a situation, but without fail we would dissolve into a pile of giggles. Someday we would know, for real. And we would sure as shit talk to each about it.
And then school started and another year passed, and the next summer my family moved back to San Antonio. And Diane and I lost touch for good. I wrote her a few letters, but she never responded, so eventually I just stopped. We would get Christmas cards from her family every year, and one year, while I was in 8th or 9th grade, the card came and said that Diane was very ill. Maybe terminally ill. With some unpronounceable illness neither my mom nor myself can remember now. Her mom explained in the card that that was why Diane had lost touch; she didn't want to explain to anyone what was happening to her. We were so, so young. She must have been so, so scared. I like to think I tried writing to her again after that, but I truly don't remember. My feelings had been hurt when she hadn't responded years earlier, and even knowing the reason why didn't make it stop hurting. In fact, it made it worse. That was the last time we heard from her family.
In the craziness that was puberty and first love and teenage angst and dad-wars, the high-school years passed and I didn't really think about Diane that much -- and with each passing year, the memories faded. But I've never stopped wondering what happened to her. I have googled her, but no luck. I also don't remember exactly how she spelled her last name, so that's also a hindrance. I think she's probably gone. And that makes me really sad.
She was the quirky, redheaded girl who pretended to be my boyfriend; who listened to my silly, girlish hopes and dreams; who even crept around underneath the bushes all summer, dutifully taking notes on every screaming toddler that rolled by on a Big Wheel. Ah, the glamorous life on an army base.
I hope Diane had the chance to have a real boyfriend, as I did. I hope she knew how much I cared for her. I wonder if she ever thought of me in those later years. I wonder if she might still be alive. I wonder, but I may never know.
And that's the thing about life that really eats at me; so many people pass through our lives, people who are huge or small influences on us at one time or another, and then they can just be gone, just like that, and no matter how hard you look, you can't find them again. I hate losing people.
I hate losing Diane Dunavon.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Friday, June 01, 2007
hey stranger
Ahhh, downtime. Sweet, sweet downtime. I had all but forgotten you. The last time I saw you was ….. March??? Wow. It’s been too long, downtime, my long lost friend.
Yeah. Sooooooo…. I finally have a slight lull at work. And it’s even more awesome because it falls on a Friday afternoon – yay! And my friend G and I are leaving at 5 to get pedicures, to get the weekend off on the right foot (i couldn’t help it. sorry).
So, we must address my post-less-ness. Would you believe me if I just said I’ve been real busy?? Cuz it’s true. Also, nothing earth-shatteringly inspiring has happened lately, besides my magical cat getting off insulin – until this past weekend, which I spent in Chicago with the lovely Tamara. I would blog about it, but she already did a really good job.
Truthfully, I have just been too buried in work and life to think deep thoughts to share with the Internets. Boring bullets I can drum up to make this post just a tad longer:
- I found a pet sitter, yay! He works as a vet technician so I feel comfy leaving him in charge of my slightly diabetic kitty. Now I just need to find a dentist; GYN; optometrist … hey, it’s only been 10 months people! Give me time!
- I decided to stay put in my apartment for another year. It was a difficult decision, as you could probably tell from my manic posts on here, but ultimately I just had too much going on to try and move too. So, this time next year I will hopefully be in my own place, or at least someplace that’s not attached to 30 other units…
- I just planned a week at Lake Tahoe with the cruise gang over the 4th of July, and I’m so excited! We’re staying at this cool resort and it will be fun and relaxing. And I really miss my peeps, so we’ll do some much-needed catching up. Yay, less than a month to go!
- My boss at work, the one I worked for in Austin years ago and who hired me here, is moving back to Austin in August and will continue to work for the company remotely. So I will be getting a new boss. This makes me sad and nervous, but I’m also happy for him as he’s been in limbo for almost two years now…
- My precious youngest nephew turned three and was the cutest muffin evah at his birthday party. Three. Dude.
- ………
That’s it folks, that’s all the random stuff I can think of. I promise to post again soon! I will work on having some deep thoughts this weekend…
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
the magical cat
Once upon a time there was a shiny gray cat named Jess. After 11 blissful and healthy years with his Lovely Lisa (LL), he was diagnosed with feline diabetes. He suffered through a battery of tests, including LL poking his ears several times a day and doing that sneaky thing with his shoulders when he was eating. Because Jess was patient and good, he put up with all this because deep down he understood that there was a connection between these things and the fact that he'd been feeling much more like himself lately. And he trusted his LL. After exactly two and a half weeks, Jess was feeling sleepier and sleepier. He was still good natured and loyal, but just...sleepy. His LL noticed this and did the ear prick thing again -- and to everyone's shock, found that his blood glucose numbers had plunged to the point where he shouldn't be receiving insulin. Remarkably, he had not suffered the side effects of this error, other than the sleepiness. He endured many more ear pricks over the next few days, until one day he noticed that his LL was no longer doing that sneaky thing with his shoulders while he was eating. Then LL explained to him that because he was a magical cat, he had magically gotten better, and no longer needed the pricks at all! Just to make sure, his LL continued to prick his ear every couple of days, but a week later his numbers were better than ever and --- no insulin. And the kingdom rejoiced and there was much ... magic.
Yes, Jess is magical. He is healthy. He is off the insulin, for now. His vet said this happens sometimes, that the insulin can "kick start" a pancreas again, more or less. We have to be vigilant and continue testing him every few days, but for now he's much more himself and eating and sleeping better. We all are. Can I hear a WOOOO HOOOOOOO!!!!!
In other news, here is a photo of my semi-new haircut, since some of you asked...
Yes, Jess is magical. He is healthy. He is off the insulin, for now. His vet said this happens sometimes, that the insulin can "kick start" a pancreas again, more or less. We have to be vigilant and continue testing him every few days, but for now he's much more himself and eating and sleeping better. We all are. Can I hear a WOOOO HOOOOOOO!!!!!
In other news, here is a photo of my semi-new haircut, since some of you asked...
Monday, May 14, 2007
secret thoughts
- I don’t really like children all that much; only if there’s an emotional attachment (only nephews, friends' kids, etc).
- I fear I will wake up at 50 and wish I'd had children.
- I think I would be a shitty mother.
- I fear growing old by myself.
- I'm afraid I'll be poor when I retire.
- I am afraid that if I don’t lose the weight now, no one will ever love me in time to keep me from growing old by myself.
- I’m afraid that if I lose the weight and someone falls in love with me, I will secretly resent them forever for only loving skinny me.
- I’m think it’s inevitable that I will die of cancer or heart disease.
- I’m afraid I’ll always be in love with him.
- I’m scared that I’m losing touch with some of my closest friends because I moved out of state.
- I feel sad when I think about my other friends having kids because I know it will take them further away from me.
- I still fantasize about marrying a millionaire and never having to work again.
- I’m afraid if I didn’t have to work I’d go mad and/or gain 500 pounds.
- I think I’m unlovable—ultimately, men have always chosen mates other than me.
- I am often torn between lonely and grateful for my solitude.
- I’m too attached to my cat.
- Sometimes I really wonder what the point of it all is.
- I don’t like my job.
- I’m afraid something will happen to one of my parents and I won’t be able to get there in time.
- I feel very disconnected right now.
- I'm afraid I will never be published.
- I worry that my nephews won't like me when they get older.
- PMS kicks my ass.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
I missed my calling. Or not...
Warning: Another diabetic post.
So first it was the shots. And they hardly freak me out at all anymore, nor Jess. But then after his vet visit this week, I was instructed to wake up at 4:30am that night (exactly 8 hours after his evening shot) to test his blood glucose. Ok, I said. How? That's when they told me I would have to make my cat bleed onto a very tiny strip of paper inside a delicate machine that turns itself off if you don't use it within like 15 seconds. Oh.
I went to Walgreens and bought the glucometer and supplies, and dutifully woke up at 4:30. However, I utterly failed to test his blood. I now think it was because I was wussy about it and didn't want to stick him hard enough to make him bleed. Here's the thing: I hate blood. I am not in the medical profession for a REASON, people. I can't watch while they draw my blood and I would rather be completely knocked out cold than be aware of anything medically intrusive happening to me. So this was a tall order.
I gave up and we all went back to sleep. I tried again Thursday night and was finally successful - in part because I practiced on poor Jess before we went to bed, to make sure I could do it. That first poke was pretty awful; I won't go into detail, but it bled a leeeetle bit more than it was supposed to. Jess was really a sport though. He was annoyed, but forgot as soon as I gave him treats.
Anyway, his nighttime number looked good so the vet said to stay the course on our current dose of insulin. Cool. Then came today, when I was home with him all day long. And I noticed that he slept a LOT. Like, more than usual. And he seemed kind of groggy when I would wake him up by petting him. He was still good-natured, just...sleepy. I trusted my instincts and pulled out the ole' glucometer, and sure enough, his blood sugar was pretty low. Not dangerously low, in fact it was in the "normal" range, but it was pretty low considering he was due for another shot in an hour. After consulting this feline diabetes website I found and calling the ER vet for advice, I waited an hour and tested it again. It has gone up a little, but not much. And he's not eating as much or as enthusiastically as usual. So I'm waiting another 20 minutes and I'm going to have to test him AGAIN. I just want to make sure his numbers are going up, not down, before I go to bed. And I skipped the nighttime insulin shot, btw. My regular vet will get a phone call Monday to consult about lowering his dosage, as maybe it's working a little too well.
BUT -- and now I have finally reached my circuitous point -- I can't believe I'm actually capable of sticking a lance in my kitty-handsome's ear and getting it onto the tiny strip before he flicks it everywhere (live and learn, my friends), and get a reading before the glucometer shuts itself off. Rock. On. I hate blood, yet I am doing this. So, yay me. And yay, Jess, for improving so quickly! On that note, I leave you with Jess's very explicit comment on the whole prickly affair...
So first it was the shots. And they hardly freak me out at all anymore, nor Jess. But then after his vet visit this week, I was instructed to wake up at 4:30am that night (exactly 8 hours after his evening shot) to test his blood glucose. Ok, I said. How? That's when they told me I would have to make my cat bleed onto a very tiny strip of paper inside a delicate machine that turns itself off if you don't use it within like 15 seconds. Oh.
I went to Walgreens and bought the glucometer and supplies, and dutifully woke up at 4:30. However, I utterly failed to test his blood. I now think it was because I was wussy about it and didn't want to stick him hard enough to make him bleed. Here's the thing: I hate blood. I am not in the medical profession for a REASON, people. I can't watch while they draw my blood and I would rather be completely knocked out cold than be aware of anything medically intrusive happening to me. So this was a tall order.
I gave up and we all went back to sleep. I tried again Thursday night and was finally successful - in part because I practiced on poor Jess before we went to bed, to make sure I could do it. That first poke was pretty awful; I won't go into detail, but it bled a leeeetle bit more than it was supposed to. Jess was really a sport though. He was annoyed, but forgot as soon as I gave him treats.
Anyway, his nighttime number looked good so the vet said to stay the course on our current dose of insulin. Cool. Then came today, when I was home with him all day long. And I noticed that he slept a LOT. Like, more than usual. And he seemed kind of groggy when I would wake him up by petting him. He was still good-natured, just...sleepy. I trusted my instincts and pulled out the ole' glucometer, and sure enough, his blood sugar was pretty low. Not dangerously low, in fact it was in the "normal" range, but it was pretty low considering he was due for another shot in an hour. After consulting this feline diabetes website I found and calling the ER vet for advice, I waited an hour and tested it again. It has gone up a little, but not much. And he's not eating as much or as enthusiastically as usual. So I'm waiting another 20 minutes and I'm going to have to test him AGAIN. I just want to make sure his numbers are going up, not down, before I go to bed. And I skipped the nighttime insulin shot, btw. My regular vet will get a phone call Monday to consult about lowering his dosage, as maybe it's working a little too well.
BUT -- and now I have finally reached my circuitous point -- I can't believe I'm actually capable of sticking a lance in my kitty-handsome's ear and getting it onto the tiny strip before he flicks it everywhere (live and learn, my friends), and get a reading before the glucometer shuts itself off. Rock. On. I hate blood, yet I am doing this. So, yay me. And yay, Jess, for improving so quickly! On that note, I leave you with Jess's very explicit comment on the whole prickly affair...
Friday, May 04, 2007
Busted.
He knows. The Grey Wonder knows. Instead of pretending to ignore the needle I stick in between his shoulder blades when he’s eating, yesterday he confronted it for the first time. When I started pulling up the skin on his neck, he whipped his head around, like “Hey!” So I held the needle out for him to sniff. And held my breath. And he went back to eating and let me give him the shot.
You know what’s funny? Now that he “knows” what I’m doing? He makes a little squeak/growl to acknowledge the shot, whereas before he didn’t make a sound. I think it’s very cool that he lets me do it without a hassle. It’s almost like he can tell it’s part of what makes him feel better lately.
I love my little gray man. I hope he lives forever.
You know what’s funny? Now that he “knows” what I’m doing? He makes a little squeak/growl to acknowledge the shot, whereas before he didn’t make a sound. I think it’s very cool that he lets me do it without a hassle. It’s almost like he can tell it’s part of what makes him feel better lately.
I love my little gray man. I hope he lives forever.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
just checking in...
I've been busy lately, blahblahblah. But really, I have. Here's what's been going on:
- I've been giving Jess two insulin shots a day for a week now, and today he is at the vet getting his blood glucose curve, so we know if we're getting him the right amount of insulin
- Jess does not care about getting shots -- he stands still for me and doesn't even wince - or stop eating for that matter.
- Weird (super-weird) fact: the same week I found out Jess had diabetes? My brother, in San Antonio, found out one of his kitties has it too. And needs two shots a day. Weird.
- My apartment complex is raising my rent $150/month if I renew my lease
- They can kiss my a** -- I'm moving :)
- But I'm not buying; I decided to pay for my freedom (rent) for another year
- I already found a place i'm in love with
- I should know something by tomorrow
- Work is still crazy busy
- I might be moving in two to three weeks
- Tomorrow night I'm meeting a good Austin friend of mine for dinner in South Denver -- she's in Col. Springs for a work conference and we're going to meet halfway - yay!
Um... okay. That about covers it for today... any questions???
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Big D
Well. Jess has kitty diabetes. Not shocking, given his symptoms, but still upsetting. Since his blood sugar is so high right now, they want to start him off with two insulin shots a day. Normally we might try to treat it with meds and diet first, but they're worried about getting his levels down. And so am I. So Wednesday Jess and I get to go back to the vet where I will learn how to inject insulin into my rotund cat. I'm not that worried about giving the shot; he has plenty of fatty, loose skin, and if I do it while he's eating, I doubt he'll even notice. This could be the naivete talking. I'm just sayin', if it was Piper needing the shots, I'd be out shopping for falconer's gloves and goggles.
Maybe I was mentally preparing myself for this, since I knew what his symptoms could mean; I say this because I almost felt relieved today when I finally found out what was wrong with my sweet pumpkin spice. At least it's not kidney or liver failure, which I was worried about. If you'll recall, that's how Megs died. However, his liver levels were a little off, which is another reason to get him up and running on the insulin sooner rather than later.
I'll update when I know more. Cross your fingers and claws...
Maybe I was mentally preparing myself for this, since I knew what his symptoms could mean; I say this because I almost felt relieved today when I finally found out what was wrong with my sweet pumpkin spice. At least it's not kidney or liver failure, which I was worried about. If you'll recall, that's how Megs died. However, his liver levels were a little off, which is another reason to get him up and running on the insulin sooner rather than later.
I'll update when I know more. Cross your fingers and claws...
Friday, April 20, 2007
Tidbits
There's been a lot going on. Things like:
I'm off to the bathtub with a bottle of wine.....
(just kidding. sort of...)
- I've been in contact with a realtor to see about buying a condo in the next few months. I'm still not positive I am ready right now, but my lease is almost up in the apartment and every day I realize how much I HATE living in an apartment. So. We'll see...
- I took Jess to the vet today because for the last few weeks his water consumption/output has gone up drastically and he's also been losing weight. And turning brown. That's right, his previously pure gray fur is going brown in some spots, and it's just -- wrong. Anyway, the vet thinks it's his thyroid, but we won't know for sure until the blood work comes back, hopefully tomorrow. She thinks it's either his thyroid; kidney disease; or diabetes. At least all of those things are treatable, if not curable. The thyroid theory would explain his new habit of waking me up throughout the night trying to trick me into feeding him AGAIN; if his metabolism is running wild, that would mean he's not sleeping well, he's hungrier, and more playful -- and he has literally been on Piper's back a lot lately. So that's where my money is, but who knows. I can either treat it with daily meds, or shell out a chunk of money up front and get his thyroid zapped with iodine. Oh goody, decisions decisions. Let's hope he just has a bladder infection or something curable with a few pills. Poor little man cat.
- Work is still insanely busy. I don't like that it is insanely busy. I feel, mostly, insane. And very very busy.
- Thank you Jesus, SANJAYA IS FINALLY GONE.
I'm off to the bathtub with a bottle of wine.....
(just kidding. sort of...)
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
I'm all out of snappy headlines.
This is my therapy, you know. Anyone out there, reading this? You are my therapist. Even if you never say a word, even if I don’t know you or know that you’re reading, it is still greatly therapeutic for me to come to this place, my little corner of the Internet, and emotionally vomit every now and then. So, thanks.
You might recall my previous post in which I complained about my crappy week. Oh, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. My mother called tonight to tell me that my dad has had another heart attack, and as I type this I don’t really know what’s going on or how he is. I’ve been assured it was a “small” heart attack, but not insignificant; “they” are puzzled because he had a quadruple bypass just two years ago, and has exercised ever since then, so how is this possible? We won’t know anything until the morning, when they go in (through a vein in his leg) and stick a little camera in his heart and check on things. I was told not to jump on a plane. But when I moved up here last summer, I didn’t realize the crippling sense of helplessness I would feel in a situation like this. I have never felt so far away from my family. If I were still in Austin, I’d have been at my mom’s house within the hour. But here, it takes a lot more finagling, and guilt all around. Not just my own guilt for not being there, oh no. You see, I come from a long line of guiltinators. If I were to jump on a plane right now, my dad would feel guilty that his heart attack has disrupted my weekend, and that would cause him more stress. I kid you not. The man was apologizing to my mom for having this happen “on Easter weekend.” Geez Louise.
Weren’t we just here? Didn’t we just do this? Even though two years ago seems so short in terms of his heart health, it also feels like a lifetime ago. A lot can happen in two years. Hell, a lot can happen in one.
I am going to try and sleep tonight so I can be bright and ready for anything tomorrow. Please say a little prayer for my dad – he’s lying in a hospital bed right now worrying about how we are all worrying about him.
You might recall my previous post in which I complained about my crappy week. Oh, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. My mother called tonight to tell me that my dad has had another heart attack, and as I type this I don’t really know what’s going on or how he is. I’ve been assured it was a “small” heart attack, but not insignificant; “they” are puzzled because he had a quadruple bypass just two years ago, and has exercised ever since then, so how is this possible? We won’t know anything until the morning, when they go in (through a vein in his leg) and stick a little camera in his heart and check on things. I was told not to jump on a plane. But when I moved up here last summer, I didn’t realize the crippling sense of helplessness I would feel in a situation like this. I have never felt so far away from my family. If I were still in Austin, I’d have been at my mom’s house within the hour. But here, it takes a lot more finagling, and guilt all around. Not just my own guilt for not being there, oh no. You see, I come from a long line of guiltinators. If I were to jump on a plane right now, my dad would feel guilty that his heart attack has disrupted my weekend, and that would cause him more stress. I kid you not. The man was apologizing to my mom for having this happen “on Easter weekend.” Geez Louise.
Weren’t we just here? Didn’t we just do this? Even though two years ago seems so short in terms of his heart health, it also feels like a lifetime ago. A lot can happen in two years. Hell, a lot can happen in one.
I am going to try and sleep tonight so I can be bright and ready for anything tomorrow. Please say a little prayer for my dad – he’s lying in a hospital bed right now worrying about how we are all worrying about him.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
disgruntled.
I've been "off" this whole week. Not sure why, since I had a great weekend and this week at work hasn't been too terribly bad. I had a migraine yesterday, though -- man. It's been a while, and I'm so glad I don't get them too often. I was incapacitated most of the day, not getting as much work done as I needed to. Today was another weird day at work, and I'm still running behind. I have to catch up tomorrow, and I hate being up against the gun on a Friday. Oh well.
But those are just the surface things. Other things are bothering me, deeper things. For one, I've been emailing with the boy, and I still like him and still feel kind of sad. But I just don't feel like I can do the whole relationship thing right now. It feels overwhelming. And then there's the whole spark thing. So that's been on my mind; I resist the urge to write him back filling him in with my daily life, details we had started sharing, because I don't want to send mixed signals. And I know the signals would be mixed because I'm so mixed up.
Then, there's the fact that my ex has resurfaced randomly. He's not contacted me, although he's asked about me, but even knowing he is still sending energy this way freaks me out. It bothers me that I can go weeks, even months without really thinking about him at all; but all it takes is a hint and I start having the nightmares again. Like, I'm functioning in society, making friends, being productive, falling in love, but if I saw him again I just know we'd get into a shouting match within moments. Either that or I'd regress into a curled-up little ball, rocking myself while quietly chanting "hate hate hate hate". I have so much pent-up rage still, and that surprises and troubles me. I feel terrible saying this, but the truth is I have nothing but disdain for him and I really don't even wish him well. I feel scared for his kids and worry about how they're doing. It only took him 6 or 7 years to strip me of my self esteem, he's got them until they're 18. It scares the shit out of me.
Anyway. Oh, and fucking Sanjaya is still on AI and it makes me want to hiss at someone.
But those are just the surface things. Other things are bothering me, deeper things. For one, I've been emailing with the boy, and I still like him and still feel kind of sad. But I just don't feel like I can do the whole relationship thing right now. It feels overwhelming. And then there's the whole spark thing. So that's been on my mind; I resist the urge to write him back filling him in with my daily life, details we had started sharing, because I don't want to send mixed signals. And I know the signals would be mixed because I'm so mixed up.
Then, there's the fact that my ex has resurfaced randomly. He's not contacted me, although he's asked about me, but even knowing he is still sending energy this way freaks me out. It bothers me that I can go weeks, even months without really thinking about him at all; but all it takes is a hint and I start having the nightmares again. Like, I'm functioning in society, making friends, being productive, falling in love, but if I saw him again I just know we'd get into a shouting match within moments. Either that or I'd regress into a curled-up little ball, rocking myself while quietly chanting "hate hate hate hate". I have so much pent-up rage still, and that surprises and troubles me. I feel terrible saying this, but the truth is I have nothing but disdain for him and I really don't even wish him well. I feel scared for his kids and worry about how they're doing. It only took him 6 or 7 years to strip me of my self esteem, he's got them until they're 18. It scares the shit out of me.
Anyway. Oh, and fucking Sanjaya is still on AI and it makes me want to hiss at someone.
AI Haiku
I can't help it. He's the only one who moves me to emotion...
#1
Sanjaya, you make me cringe
I squeeze my eyes tight
I squeeze my eyes tight
And wait for your song to end.
#2
Why were you not voted off?
I don’t get it, man.
America is stupid.
I don’t get it, man.
America is stupid.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
dance like there's no tomorrow.
We stood in the private upstairs room of the cozy Indian restaurant downtown, surrounded by a few friends, a handful of acquaintances, and a room full of strangers. Everyone was breathless and celebratory, especially the birthday girl. Her red hair shone under the dim lights and her tinkling laugh made everyone around her smile. The music was silly and loud, and I stood next to my friends and the tall boy with whom I'd come. He and I were friends, but friends with potential. We had had one date once, which seemed to go well, but then nothing ever came of it -- except for more platonic happy hours and lots of laughs. So be it, he was funny and I liked funny guys. Sometimes we would get tipsy and flirt, which was always fun.
I remember that the festive air combined with my all-black attire, my red lipstick, and my slight wine buzz made me feel a little bit brave, a little bit hopeful. Significant eye contact had occurred with FTG (funny tall guy) and I was feeling fine. Suddenly, the birthday girl appeared in front of me, giving me a big hug, and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the mostly empty dance floor. I shyly pulled her to the side and tried to sit down at the edge of the floor, but she would have none of it. She giggled and pulled me again, and I panicked. She was shiny and bright and thin, full of joy and charisma; suddenly I felt lackluster, heavy, and terribly self conscious. My mind was spinning and I was keenly aware of funny guy behind us, urging me to go silly dance with her. It was then that I was struck with a vivid mental image of myself as I imagined others would see me--pale, puffy, perhaps with a shiny nose, fading lipstick, flat hair, shaking my body next to my thin, pretty redhead friend. I couldn't. do. it.
I shook my head and pulled my arm back, perhaps a little too hard, which surprised her. I sat myself stubbornly at the edge of the floor, FTG beside me, and just like that, I knew. I could tell from the change in his energy that I had blown it. I felt something in him cool toward me. I understood in that moment that it was never going to happen with us, because I didn't believe I was pretty enough, funny enough, fearless enough; because I was in fact too insecure to dance uninhibited at a party where I knew mostly no one. My friend had shrugged and danced away, pulling more girlfriends into her circle, but I remained seated, stiffly, with a fake smile pasted on my face. FTG got up and walked over to the bar, walked away from me.
We still went out with friends a few more times over the next couple of years, but any remaining spark had been effectively doused that night at the birthday party, as I hugged myself next to the dance floor and wished more than anything that I was thin and bubbly, or at least that I felt thin and bubbly.
I decided recently that I'm done with that girl. Not with my red-haired friend, although we lost touch not long after that party, but with that version of myself. I'm working on seeing myself as I want others to see me, not as I fear they do. Maybe I can do it this time, in a state full of mostly strangers; I'll keep you posted...
I remember that the festive air combined with my all-black attire, my red lipstick, and my slight wine buzz made me feel a little bit brave, a little bit hopeful. Significant eye contact had occurred with FTG (funny tall guy) and I was feeling fine. Suddenly, the birthday girl appeared in front of me, giving me a big hug, and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the mostly empty dance floor. I shyly pulled her to the side and tried to sit down at the edge of the floor, but she would have none of it. She giggled and pulled me again, and I panicked. She was shiny and bright and thin, full of joy and charisma; suddenly I felt lackluster, heavy, and terribly self conscious. My mind was spinning and I was keenly aware of funny guy behind us, urging me to go silly dance with her. It was then that I was struck with a vivid mental image of myself as I imagined others would see me--pale, puffy, perhaps with a shiny nose, fading lipstick, flat hair, shaking my body next to my thin, pretty redhead friend. I couldn't. do. it.
I shook my head and pulled my arm back, perhaps a little too hard, which surprised her. I sat myself stubbornly at the edge of the floor, FTG beside me, and just like that, I knew. I could tell from the change in his energy that I had blown it. I felt something in him cool toward me. I understood in that moment that it was never going to happen with us, because I didn't believe I was pretty enough, funny enough, fearless enough; because I was in fact too insecure to dance uninhibited at a party where I knew mostly no one. My friend had shrugged and danced away, pulling more girlfriends into her circle, but I remained seated, stiffly, with a fake smile pasted on my face. FTG got up and walked over to the bar, walked away from me.
We still went out with friends a few more times over the next couple of years, but any remaining spark had been effectively doused that night at the birthday party, as I hugged myself next to the dance floor and wished more than anything that I was thin and bubbly, or at least that I felt thin and bubbly.
I decided recently that I'm done with that girl. Not with my red-haired friend, although we lost touch not long after that party, but with that version of myself. I'm working on seeing myself as I want others to see me, not as I fear they do. Maybe I can do it this time, in a state full of mostly strangers; I'll keep you posted...
Thursday, March 29, 2007
spring in colorado
So yesterday it was another lovely spring day with highs in the 60s; I actually saw tulips poking through their bulbs and birds that appeared to be flying back to CO instead of away from it. I went to bed last night with my windows cracked and a cat on my head, as per the usual. This morning I woke up to 5 inches of snow, and it was still coming down. It stopped for a few hours in the afternoon, then started up again just in time for rush hour -- but this snow was not like the other snow. This snow didn't stick to the roads or sidewalks. It fell in giant, wet flakes, accumulating on the grass, open bulbs, tree branches, but not the roads--the roads were simply wet. I'm told this is normal for this time of year.
I like it. I wasn't quite ready to relinquish winter, my favorite season.
That's all I got. More soon...........
I like it. I wasn't quite ready to relinquish winter, my favorite season.
That's all I got. More soon...........
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
what a difference a week makes.
So it turns out that my last post, while well thought out, was total bullshit.
I must have the tingle. Must. Have. It. No amount of rationalization can manufacture chemistry, and it's just too depressing to imagine an entire future with no chemistry.
and that's all i'm going to say about that...
I must have the tingle. Must. Have. It. No amount of rationalization can manufacture chemistry, and it's just too depressing to imagine an entire future with no chemistry.
and that's all i'm going to say about that...
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