Girl of Approval

M is for Menu

2011-10-02T19:47:00.002-05:00

Hello,

It is I, Girl of Approval. My topic is menus. Why? Because menus have been a topic of conversation lately. After a recent trip to to the dietitian, the idea of menu planning was discussed. I find this idea mind boggling. Deciding what to eat in advanced and multiple days, perhaps even weeks in advance? Terrifying. I'm a fly by the seat of your pants kind of person; however, diabetes is not an impromptu disease. It requires planning and scheduling. Blood sugars should be taken at certain times of the day, food should be eaten at the same time each day, carbohydrates should be counted and restricted, and being a floating butterfly sucking nectar at whichever random flower is encountered is not part of the Plan.

I don't always want to eat certain foods and in certain combination, and am fussy. Beyond fussy. So, meal planning let alone menu planning. Ugh. We haven't yet tackled this issue. Eric was part of that meeting with the dietitian and we both find this a difficult task. However, he has been on my case to check my blood sugar, to take my shots, to take my medications, and that's a start. But really, at what point do I have to move beyond the starting point? I've been a diabetic since 2005 and it's not going to just go away overnight. My pancreas and cells are not going to magically make more insulin and use is more efficiently just by wishing.

Where does that leave me? With a blank calendar, no meals planned, multiple cookbooks looked over, and no new recipes tried. Some people have stage fright. I have recipe fright. What if that new meal is yucky? Then what? Eat the yucky food? No, I will not. But that's wasteful and expensive. Trying two new recipes a week seems like such a gamble. I think I'd rather play the penny slots, but I am actually gambling with my eyesight, feet, kidneys.

Depressing. Not depressing is the beer cheese dip at JL Beers. This is fantastic and I could eat a vat of it. The chips are also delicious and the burger was good. I had the Humpty Dumpty. It has a fried egg on it and is fabulous! We also ate the Blue Moose and I did not have chicken strips. While this is a feat of self control, I did have chicken. Not sure I really overcame my chicken strip fetish with a chicken breast on a bun. It was also good if not a bit messy. I had the sweet potato fries and they were some of the best I've had. They came with an unidentifiable sauce which was white and appeared to have poppy seeds in it. It was a bit sweet but not creamy. I would eat it again. :o)

Neither of those meals was on the meal plan.

L is for Likes

2011-09-25T23:50:00.003-05:00

Here is a brief list of things I love.

1. My family including genetic relations and acquired family
2. My friends
3. My puppies
4. Reading
5. House plan books
6. Sweets
7. Blankets
8. Learning
9. Glasses
10. Tables
11. Chairs
12. Funky lamps
13. Potable water
14. Electricity
15. Monkeys
16. The idea of sewing
17. Crossword puzzles
18. Movies
19. Dancing in the grocery store to the muzak.
20. Modern Family, Parent Hood, Mystery Diagnosis
21. Stand-up comedy
22. Books on CD
23. Insulin
24. Libraries
25. Sugar Free powdered drink mixes.

K is for acKKKKKK!

2011-08-16T23:28:00.002-05:00

A new phrase has been added to the American lexicon and it should go away. We need to pretend it never happened. We need to drop this horrible and stupid sentence. Alas, I do not see this occurring but see it becoming more and more prolific. Soon, t-shirts and bumper sticks will annoy my senses at every turn. Literally.

The words that have driven me to write this post? It is what it is.

What the fuck is that? This is the least informational sentence ever. After reading it or hearing it, I know nothing other than the fact that I want to gouge out someone's eyes out or, more fitting my own ear drums.

When is this obnoxious phrase used? When a mere shrug would suffice, when a what can you do wisecrack would fit better, when someone has run out of words and refuses to look for them.

I cannot stand this addition to the American English language and hope it dies soon. I hope this phrase is experiencing high cholesterol, chest pains, shortness of breath, and no doctor can save it. Please let it die. Do not put it on life support. Do not do CPR. Just let this horrid uttering quickly slip away into that goodnight.

J for July

2011-07-18T20:15:00.002-05:00

I am back. I cannot believe it is July. June passed slowly, each day seemed gray and rainy. July is showing to be hot and humid. However, time is now speeding by. So many things have happened, but yet not happened.

The wedding came and went, and my memories are already a blur. Good thing we have a video of it. The picture quality of the video is supposedly poor but the audio quality is good. For me, as in everything, it's the words that count.

We attended our first parade in our small town. I became excited about this outing and took pictures. What I'm going to do with picture of tractors and farm implements, I don't know.

We went to our first barbecue at the home of another resident of this small town. It was very fun. The burgers were excellent. It had been a long time since I had a charcoal grilled hamburger. I ate a single bite of a horrible, dog-food pressed into a burger shape earlier this summer and had been put-off by burger since. However, the smell on Saturday broke the spell.

My goal is to blog everyday for five days. So, here goes! :)

I is for Idea

2011-02-10T17:08:00.004-06:00

My blood boils and freezes today. I am hot, then cold. My stomach churns, twirls, and loop-d-loops. Dizziness spreads from deep within my brain to my legs so the motion moves from my stomach to my head to my feet. My back muscles are sore from... nothing. My eyes are heavy with sleep and my thoughts are fuzzy. I feel as if I'm getting sick and I don't like it.

I used a computer program to see which author my writings are like, one entry came up with a young adult author, but a second sampling came up with Kurt Vonnegut. What a lovely compliment. I adore Vonnegut's irreverent and sassy writings. This second sampling made me want to return to the blogger I was of yore. So, this is my I for Idea. I am going to try. That's it. Just try.

I am listening to an awful book on CD in the car but it is making want to shoot archery again. I haven't done this since junior high gym class. I've never figured out why they give bows and arrows to teenagers. But they did and it was fun. The Boy looked into some archery lessons for me, but at the time our finances didn't allow for such extravagances. They still don't really, but I'm turning 30 soon and I feel like I need to get of my Things to Do in Life done.

I can't believe I'll be 30 in a few weeks. It seemed like a birthday that was so far away and yet here it is. 30 seems like I should have had some much done in life, but I have no real idea as what all those cool things are.

But here are my ideas for being 30

1. Read More
2. Do Archery
3. Be more adventurous in what I eat
4. Let loose when I am not at work
5. Pet my puppies more
6. Visit my parents more often
7. Take more bubble baths
8. Learn to sew
9. Go to the spa
10. Eat slower
11. Stop furrowing my brow
12. Take more pictures
13. Write more of anything
14. Try not to be annoyed when people at my office cough up a lung every two seconds
15. Take better care of my skin
16. Drink more wine
17. Continue baking
18. Walk the puppies more
19. Text my brother more
20. Work on having better posture
21. Floss more frequently
22. Stop clenching my jaw while I'm awake
23. Laugh more
24. Curse more
25. Watch more indepedent films
26. Watch more artsy films
27. Enjoy music more
28. Care
29. Love
30. Hope

H is for Hello

2011-01-17T17:17:00.003-06:00

Well, Hello!

So, what can I tell you about the letter "H"?

Well, in my life it represents Home. I have two homes. My parents' house, which is the place I grew up in and then my home with Eric. At one time, Hurley lived in my house but now she lives with my parents and she is so happy. Hurley is a smart dog who knows she's got it good.

I never thought somewhere other than my parents' house would be home. But it happened. Norris, Oreo, and Eric are my home.

H also stands for Hot Dogs. There is a specific brand of hot dog that I love and I can only find it in my hometown. Where I work and live does not have these declisious red monstrosities. I've been told hot dogs should not turn the bun red, but really it should. So, my parents get the giant 50 pack for me each year and my need for this hot dog is sated. I merely peek into freezer and spot the individual services I have placed the hot dogs into and know that this is home.

H means Hurry. The wedding is in May and I feel like I have to hurry and get so much stuff done. Need to get the invitations printed, get the guest list finalized, get The Boy's ring, get my undergarments, get my dress altered, find shoes, figure out the flowers, and the list go on. But it's supposed to be a fun wedding and in the end all that matters is that I marry Eric and everyone celebrates with us.

H is for Hello and See You Later.

G is for Going

2010-11-07T22:13:00.004-06:00

Well, where did I go?

I went to my first ever live-football game. It was a high school game in a tiny town but it wasn't a bad time. I don't know if I'll go to another one, but we'll see. It was chilly that night, with hats, mittens, and coats required. But then the biting wind was stick nipping at noses.

The Boy and I went to Duluth, MN for a weekend getaway to celebrate our four years together. On Halloween we hit that four year mark. I don't know where the time has gone. However, I do know that we mark time with "before Leukemia" and "After Leukemia." It's strange to have some a division in time like that. But we had a great time in Duluth.

We went to a micro-brewery, talked, ate, listened to some live music, and enjoyed beer. Well, The Boy drank beer (a tasting, they call it) and I smelled it. I smell the beer like people do with wine. I hate the taste, but I can understand the subtle hints they are going for...

The musician was incredible. He had such range and was fantastic on guitar. We went on a tour of the brewery and learned how they make micro-brew. It was interesting. We also went to see the lift bridge, but did not get to see it rise up and allow a ship to pass over. We went to the aquarium and saw some fishies. :) Eric saw his first otter and was entertained by what I called "a wet puppy with a big tail." The stingrays were awesome. We also had breakfast in a revolving restaurant that gave us a great view of the city our first morning there.

We enjoyed some amazing food while we were there. Nothing we ate was disgusting, which is not the case when we have gone to Rochester, MN. It was also great to go on a trip for no reason other than for us to enjoy ourselves. No doctor appointments. It was a first.

All in all, highly recommended place to vacation and we would like to go back.

F is for Firsts

2010-09-26T22:39:00.002-05:00

Hello out there in cyberspace!

Today is a list kind of day.

So, here are a lists of firsts...

1. I have already had my first cold of the season.
2. I finally used a rug I bought in June.
3. If all goes like planned, I will be attending my first football game and auction (as a buyer not a seller) this week.
4. My first car was a 1986 Chevy Celebrity sedan.
5. My first kiss was with Will W. 0n my bed in my apartment in Fargo (the blue apartments).
6. I planted my first hens and chicks in my flower bed. We'll see if I can make them grow.
7. In the back yard, I dug up all the tulips and threw them away. I can't stand how the things look after they bloom. All ragedy. This will be my first tulip free yard.
8. I slept on our futon in the spare room with it folded all the way out for the first time while I was sick.
9. We opened one of our basement windows for the first time since we have lived in this house.
10. I met someone who does not like Mexican food. I mean, I know people who don't like spicy Mexican food, but to dislike Mexican as a whole... that was a first.

E is for Easy

2010-09-12T14:55:00.003-05:00

So many things aren't easy in life. It ain't easy being green. It's not easy being this beautiful. But you know what is easy? Eating pie. That's actually how the well-worn phrase "Easy as pie" goes. It's "As easy as eating pie." Because making pie- is hard. Hell, even the frozen ones can turn out poorly.

Today, I easily upset the lawn mower by mowing over a metal pole and getting green fluffy stuff stuck around the blade. I easily ate two grilled cheese sandwiches and two delicious green pickles.

I do not easily type on this keyboard. At work I have an ergonomic keyboard, but at home it's just a regular one. And you know, I've never see an ergo keyboard at a garage sale. Never! They are expensive otherwise. I need a new computer. This one has seen better days but it saw me through some of the hardest academic days I've seen. So, thank you computer. :o)

This is a random post if I never saw one. Speaking of phrases that people get wrong, I hate the whole "I could care less" phenomena that is happening these days. Don't you realize that this means you do care somewhat? It's I couldn't or could not care less. This means you do not care at all and there is no possible way to care less. Get it right people. It's easy.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

D is for Drill

2010-09-02T19:21:00.002-05:00

Hello,

I nearly forgot about the alphabet project with all that has been going on. So, D is for Drill. Why Drill, you say? What kind of drill?

A power drill with its own carrying case, that is the kind of drill. And why? I received it as a Christmas present a number of years ago while I was in college. I wanted is so I could complete "home" improvement projects. This really consisted of putting up four shelves and I don't recall using it again. But it was the sense of empowerment the drill brought me. That if I needed to I could.

Another gift I received recently is not quite so useful and probably won't empower me. It's a violin and I really don't have much musical ability. So, we'll see how that goes. I attempted to play violin in the fourth grade, but could not find a way to tell my teacher that I couldn't read music. He kept telling me to look at the time signature, but what I didn't get was how I knew which line corresponded to which note.

So, this is where balance in life lies. Something to give you structure, power, the ability to destroy, and something to give you humility and the ability to create. So, I hope you all create something powerful and something dreamy. Isn't dreams that are often the most powerful?

I have a dream....

C-Struggle

2010-08-10T10:40:00.002-05:00

I've been struggling with letter "C" for days now. I cannot think of anything for this curved letter.

I think of random words, such as cash, clothes, cleaning, coffee, calico, etc. But nothing really strikes me, nothing pops out.

So, I think for me and the letter "C" we will just list some words and some ideas that go with them.

Cash-I need more. But who doesn't? I would like to win some. If I won the lottery, I'd buy my parents a new house with main level laundry and an apartment above the garage for my brother.

Clothes-I like clothes-sometimes. Other times, I don't want to be judged by what is on the outside. So, I struggle with this understanding that humans are visual creatures and yet with the idea that I don't want people to pre-judge me.

Cleaning-I don't usually enjoy this activity. Our kitchen floor never looks clean no matter how many times I mop it. We do have new self-stick linoleum tiles in our China cabinet waiting to be stuck down but we have other work to do before that.

Coffee- Don't like it. But I swear everyone in books drinks it or offers it to guests. That, tea, or wine. It seems like everyone is always drinking those three drinks and never Dr. Pepper, or a Diet Mountain Dew. Seems strange to me.

Calico- I know this is a cat type and a fabric type. I want to use my sewing machine. So, I think I shall make that my goal in the next six months to learn how to not be afraid of it. :o)

There, that is "C."

B is for Body

2010-07-30T10:58:00.001-05:00

I have a body. It is mine and I accept it. I am not being cruel when I say I am fat. I am being honest and truthful. It is like saying I am 29 years old, I am a girl, I have armpits. It’s nothing more than fact. When I say “I am fat” many people give me a pouty look and say “No, you’re not. Stop.” What? No, I’m not? Um, we can all see me. I’ve been fat since 6th grade and have only gotten fatter. It’s not like I’m a skinny girl bordering on anorexia saying I’m fat. I’m a hefty lady, closer to 300 pounds than 200.

So, I have a body. It betrays me often. I am clumsy. I do not often know why but some how I’m running into walls, edges of doorframes, knocking my head into my trunk while it’s up, etc. It does not produce enough insulin and the amount it does produce it is resistant to. I must inject myself with synthetic insulin and take pills for the myriad of symptoms that comes with diabetes. My body also does not allow me to be graceful.

I’ve been toying with exercise and completed an aerobic video yesterday. I must admit that it’s more like speed flailing. I do not move into each different step with fluidity. But while my body betrays me, is not graceful, and is fat, it’s mine.

So, my goal is to take more responsibility for it. This is a hard task. I recently read in a book that having diabetes and maintaining what is called “tight control” is like constantly having a colicky baby. At first you can handle it, but then give up. I read about people who gave up their medications for years, months, not just the days I’ve skipped. I read about a young lady who gets so frustrated that she three her external insulin pump across the room. I read about how this disease is rapidly increasing in younger and younger children, is all around sky-rocketing in Americans. Yet, it’s something many people know nothing about, it’s not something talked about as if we are guilty for our failing pancreases, and it’s not something people “do” in public. There we are-hiding in bathrooms, desk cubicles, at home, under desks, while testing blood sugars, while sticking needles in our skin, while being diabetic. We just want to be normal, appear normal. But we’re not. We have bodies that betray us- we have diabetes. But I accept it. It is mine.

A is for ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

2010-07-27T11:09:00.000-05:00

A real life friend and fellow-blogger, Artemis (she actually got me started blogging) has challenged herself to blog more often. To complete this challenger she has to write something for each letter of the alphabet. Because we had both nearly given up on blogging, Artemis challenged me with this adventure as well. I am taking her up on it since I know I need to blog. It’s good for the soul.

So, I am starting with A and A is for Artemis. I have known this lovely lady since we were both in first grade together. I don’t remember much of her from then, because I was too involved in having a crush on the boy sitting next to me (Oh Jeremy). Jeremy had poor spelling skills and a maroon coat. What more could a first grade girl want? I also watched Frank eat paste. I know Artemis (aka Cassie) remembers Frank. We all do.

Cassie and I continued to be nonchalant friends until around sixth grade. This is when our friendship blossomed and we became a trio with another blogger, Vicky. This trio continued on until high school when we wound up with a much larger group of friends. During this time, Cassie and I had our difference-big differences. For some reason, Cassie and I liked to argue about dumb things neither of us had control over, the weather, the thermostat at her parents’ house, etc.

However, many years have passed since we were those young, insecure, silly girls. Now we’re just a little bit older. I still feel insecure, silly, and sometimes young. But Cassie has grown into a wonderful woman. She is stronger than she knows. She is passionate about major aspects of her life, photography, children, her new nephew, her family. She has not let things stand in her way- for long. So, Cassie thanks for the challenge and thanks for being my friend. It has been a pleasure-most of the time. ;o)

2010-03-28T11:59:00.002-05:00

For it has been a long while....

I am not sure why I don't blog. I always have things to say. Frequently at night, I'll write in my head. However, this does not equate to me writing anything in my blog. But here I am! I am sure that since no one reads this, no one is excited with me.

Oh well.

Here is my list of events.

1. While trying to return home from Fargo, Eric and I ended up in Ada, Minnesota. This was the result of flooding, trying to take back roads, and flooding.

2. Eric hit a deer with his truck last Sunday. He is okay. I am not sure on the status of the deer. Eric said it sat in the middle of the road for a while then ran away, but it's back leg looked weird.

3. My mom has been having these strange spells, where she feels pain shoot down the left side of her body. After this ends, she is nauseated. They checked her pacemaker and it appears to be working. She went to the ER on Friday. A CT scan showed her brain looks normal. She has an appointment with a neurologist on Thursday.

4. I started using the elliptical machine, but was side-lined by extreme nausea. I think it has something to do with acid reflux. So, we'll see what happens with that.

5. I think the muffler is going to fall off my car.

6. Norris and Oreo went for a walk outside last weekend. Norris loved it and thought it was the greatest thing. Oreo walked for a while and then thought, can we go home? They're pretty cute.

7. I don't think I'll ever get my house clean. I don't know how people do it.

8. I keep getting the urge to floss my teeth, but haven't done so yet.

9. I cannot believe I am 29 years old.

10. I cannot believe I still hate my hair.

11. I do not get why people say we are losing our freedom with the passage of the health care reform bill. That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard.

12. Sometimes I think I am too liberal for this state.

13. Sometimes I think I am too conservative for other states.

14. There, a post. Finally.

The weather outside is frightful

2010-01-25T08:11:00.002-06:00

My work is closed for the day. There may be updates at noon, but I am not going in. The weather is quite ugly outside and last I looked, no travel is advised.

So, a snow day! What to do on a Snow Day? Well, I played on Facebook already. I don't go on there much and I'm not sure why. I enjoy being able to poke around in people's lives fairly anonymously.

I am going to eat some cereal in a little while. I used to eat cereal everyday, sometimes more than one a day. Then, I just quit cereal and went nearly three months without it. Now, I am back on it. I realized the error of my non-cereal eating ways. Cereal is delicious.

I spent Saturday cleaning mold. Eric and I discovered mold on our bedroom wall. This is not sometimes we wanted to see. But I found a website from the Washington state government that gave great instructions on how to clean mold. So, we moved some furniture, picked up some stuff, I donned some gloves, a mask, and a hat. I went to town on the mold. We have decided to keep our room fairly empty in hopes of creating better air circulation. The windows have always had mold, but from what I've been reading that can occur in even energy effficient homes. So, it wasn't a big deal. Nor was the mold on the bathroom ceiling. We discovered its cause and we think the solution is some insulation in the attic.

But mold on the wall was new. So, I hope our efforts worked. We kept Eric out of the room while I did the mold removal since his immune system is compromised. After I finished, I laundered my clothes and hat. Don't want to spread the evil mold. We have a dehumidifier going constantly in our bedroom along with two fans.

The joys of homeownership! We also have two trees that must come down this spring. Eric had the tree removal guy come and look at the trees. They are beyond saving and he doesn't cut down trees in the winter. The two trees in question are cracked up the trunks. Sadly, we will be taking down the two other trees in our front yard as well. One of them is already starting to have the trunk crack and it just seems like a good idea to do them all at once. They are green ash trees and with the fear of the Ash Boar in this area, I think it's a good idea to take them down and start over. We're thinking a weeping willow and something else. Research still needs to be done as to what kind of trees thrive up here, you know in almost Canada.

That's my story!

2010-01-11T18:57:00.002-06:00

I own hiking boots. I do not hike. But I also do not like falling on the snow and ice.

I used to own 30 pairs of jeans. I am down to maybe ten. I can wear approximately three or four pairs to work. Even those are not fabulous looking.

I hate the book I am listening on CD, but I can't stop listening. It's enchanting in a horrible way.

I love Claussen pickles and only that brand of pickles. I think they go with everything. I just really like pickles.

I love soda. It's wonderful.

I am finally reading a book again. It's been a while. I just hadn't been in the mood to be in two fantastical places at one, book on CD and book on paper. But the with the hate for the CD book, I am okay with it now.

When you work at the Mayo clinic, you have all the power and make all the rules. This I have learned. You just go with it.

It's always weird to run into people who don't know Eric has leukemia. Makes for awkward conversations.

I love green and gray together.

Eric is on his oral chemo again. He has not been feeling well. That, plus the pain from his heel spur, makes for a crabby fiance.

I had a two week period where I couldn't eat chicken. Normally, we eat boneless, skinless chicken breasts, but this time we purchased some Banquet chicken in a box. It tastes good, but I could not get the image of little tiny sparrows flying in the air out of my head. It just grossed me out. It still does a little bit, but I don't each much protein otherwise.

The movie Julie and Julia was great. It make me want to learn to cook more than I do. Then I realized, I hate almost everything and food is expensive. I think I will stick to mac and cheese. Maybe I'll get crazy and put some broccoli in it.

I received from kitchenware from my grandmother's house. I think of her each time I see the cookware. It makes me happy. It also makes me want to say "shit" since that was her favorite word. Grandma was a good one.

I feel guilty that I am was not as sad when my Grandma Doris passed away. I didn't know her as well since she never really talked. However, I still feel guilty. I would have enjoyed knowing my grandmother more, but she was so closed off sometimes.

Currently, the local Kia dealer does not have any free cars for me. I tried though.

I had a pair of pants that were wearing holes at the corners of the back pockets. I sewed them up with some fabric scraps and bright yellow thread to make it look folksy. I was going to wear the pants again another day and noticed there was a huge rip in the ass of the pants. I am not sure how long I walked around with this rip, but I hope it wasn't too long. I have enough things about me that are embarrassing without showing off my undies and not knowing it.

This is my first post of 2010 and I vow to blog more often. For me. It helps. I know this, yet I slack off. It's like insulin. I know it helps, but sometimes I forget to shoot it up. Maybe some day I'll get it down.

Waking up to Folgers in Your Cup

2009-11-06T11:37:00.002-06:00

On www.mentalfloss.com, an interesting article sparked my mind and I decided to try my hand at some interesting college essay questions. For the full article, please see here: http://blogs.static.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/37041.html.

The first one I feel like taking on is, "Please describe a daily routine or tradition of yours that may seem ordinary to others but holds special meaning for you. Why is this practice significant to you? (Barnard, 2009)."

So, here goes.

My daily morning routine is boring and fairly consistent. I push the snooze button multiple times. No one quite knows the joy I felt the day I discovered the snooze button and the wonders if offers. So, after I finally stop snoozing, I get up and picked out underwear. This is mostly a grab a pair of underwear in the dark from the top drawer of my dresser. It's a surprise each morning, but I never know what I'm going to get. Sometimes it feels like this random choice can break or make your day.

Then, I head off to the shower. Sometimes I pet puppies along the way and sometimes they don't care to leave their slumbers to greet me. I shower. I have lost a routine in the shower, I used to exercise my calf muscles when I was in high school and showering before school. I do believe those exercises paid off as I had some fabulous calves. I should re-pick up this tradition.

After the shower, I attempt to figure out what to wear. This is not an easy task. Half my clothes are in the dirty laundry, some don't fit, some I just plain don't like. So, I finally get dressed, then brush my teeth. Then I get my keys, cell phone, and chapstick. Sometimes I put on my engagement ring, but like this morning, sometimes I forget.

However, the real tradition starts now. Once, I am all ready to go, with my shoes on and jacket waiting, I say goodbye to Eric. I usually find his head under a blanket because I'd turned a light on while looking for the day's outfit. So, I pull it away from his face and most often he wakes up enough to say a proper goodbye to me. He tells me to have a good day, to drive safely, and that he loves me. I kiss his cheek and tell him the same. The, I am off to work.

This means a great deal to me, because I spent a month without him in our bed, a month of no one telling me to drive safely each morning, a month of no one telling me to have a good day (especially when some days seemed so bad for him). So, I know the meaning of each goodbye in the morning.

It's a quiz and I got an A.

2009-10-18T20:18:00.002-05:00

Stolen from a weird home schooler.

The Basics

What do you eat for breakfast usually?: Usually non-breakfast foods. Pizza, soup, who knows.

How many cups of coffee do you drink each morning?: None, but I have many sodas throughout the day.

Do you exercise in the mornings?: Not unless you count showering as an exercise.

Do you work out daily?: I was for a while, riding the recumbent bike but then Eric had his gallbladder out and then I got the influenza. So, it's been a long time.

How long does it take to get ready in the mornings?: About fifteen minutes to a half hour. This also depends on if the weather is cold and I have to dry my hair.

My Favorites

dinner?: Pizza, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes.

way to eat eggs?: Scrambled with cheese or fried hard. Sometimes I like them boiled. But I do not like runny yolks.

dessert?: Cake. Pie. Cookies. Ice cream.

NFL team?: I'm not much of a fan. That is The Boy's idea of fun.

lazy day thing to do?:
Watch tv, lay in bed and read.

This or That
Sunday brunch or Sunday dinner?: I tend to have Sunday dinner more often. But I don't care as long as I get to eat something yummy.

Hiking or Swimming?: Swimming. I don't hike. There are bugs.

OMG or WTF?: ROFLMAO?: None.

Donald Trump or Bill Gates?: Bill Gates

Do You?
ever wear the shirt you've had on all day to bed?: Yes, I don't think I should have to waste a shirt just to sleep in. I figure the sheets are dirty anyway from me being out and about all day. I shower in the morning so the bed is a dirty place to me.

wish you were rich or famous?: Rich, yes. Twould be nice.

have a lot of friends?: Sometimes I'd like a few more I could just hang out with now and again. I sometimes get lonely for girl time.

eat organic foods?: Sometimes.

care what other people think of you?: To a point. I'm not the same as everyone and I find social situations difficult. So, I try to act normal, but sometimes the weirdness sneaks out. :o)

Have You Ever
worn your boyfriend's clothes?: Yes, I have. Only Andrew's and Eric's. But more so, Eric's.

defended someone that was being unfairly treated?: I try.

seen someone that you weren't sure if they were male or female?: Yes. Not that it's really any of my business.

learned a valuable lessson from someone younger than you?: Yes, this was one of the best experiences with being in Americorps.

dated someone more than ten years older or younger than you?: Yes, he was 24 years older.

Misc.
Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?: Yes, I have happy pills to stop those thoughts.

What do you consider "rare" anymore?: Integrity, honesty

Do you hold the door open for strangers?: Yes, if I remember my manners.

What is in your car ashtray?: I don't have an ashtray in the car.

Could you go a day without eating?: No! This sounds horrible. I HATE being hungry. HATE HATE HATE it.

Personal
What part of your body are you embarrassed to show?: Nothing much. It's a human body and is imperfect like most people's.

Do you have a birthmark?: Nope

Do you sleep naked?: No, pajamas. Just in case you have to run outside in the middle of the night during a fire or something.

If you've given birth, did you have a natural birth?: No thanks to both.

Do you ever skip days wearing deodorant?: No!!! I'm a sweaty girl. I cannot skip and I use the most powerful deodorant on the regular market.

Firsts
Child?: Hurley, the half beagle/half rat terrier who now lives with my parents.

What age were you when first had sex?: Old enough

state you've ever travelled to?: 19 of them.

childhood memory?: Um, not sure. I like reading as a kid so I have memories of that. Also, of watching the Gary Schandling show as a kid.

vacation as a child that you remember?: Jewitt Lake.

As of Now
If you hit redial on your phone right now, who would you call?: My dad

Are you wearing deodorant now?: Yes

What is the closest thing to you that could be used as a murder weapon?:
A beer bottle- it's actually non-alcoholic beer.

What time do you plan on going to sleep tonight?: After ten. I have to take my antibiotic again and I took it late since I had a nap.

Are you hungry?: I could be. Not too good with this hungry thing lately.

2009-10-18T19:40:00.003-05:00

I have been a horrible blogger. I have two blogs and I can't even keep up with this one. Not that I've had much to think about other than being sick. I would think "Achooo." Or "I must have a tissue now." Or "I'm hot, no I'm cold, no I'm hot."

Now I'm finally able to have a complex thought, but I get very tired from doing the littlest thing. Grocery shopping killed me last night. I thought I was going to fall to a puddle on the floor in the frozen foods section. Then driving home from the grocery store was a twenty minute drive and even more tiring. It was also very weird since farmers were out harvesting beets and bright lights would come from odd directions. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this small town living.

But The Boy loves it. He states this on a weekly basis how much he lives living in our little town. And I like it, just am not used to some things. I must be the town bitch because I do not have the waving thing down. I almost never wave. I get nervous when I suspect a wave coming on and I almost never initiate a wave. It's much too complicated. Thanks goodness I don't drive farm implements. I'd be off my rocker.

There's a story to tell about farming later on...

Physical Exam.

2009-08-31T03:55:00.003-05:00

This weekend my mom attended a pro healthcare rally. She, along with myself and many other members of my family are for healthcare reform and healthcare for everyone. I find it strange we are the only industrialized nation without national healthcare.

Anyway, while at this rally my mom went and talked to the protesters. Some feel the government should not be involved in healthcare and that they don't like government involvement in their lives. I giggle because they are standing on a sidewalk and drove cars to the place of the rally. Government. They went to school. Government. They may have gone to college and used FAFSA or GI Bills. Government. They may have parents on Medicare. Government. So, I giggle. They only want government when it's convenient for them.

They asked my mom if she wasn't worried because she is disabled and she'll be on the death list. For one, there is not death list or death panel. That's the dumbest scare tactic I've ever heard and those who believe it are even dumber. I know some people keep comparing Obama to Hitler regarding this issue, but this is not pre-WWII Germany when the physically and mentally handicapped were put to death. Also, to compare a democratic leader of a free nation to Hitler completely diminishes the horror that man put the world through. It's irresponsible to make such comparisions. But no, my mom is not worried about being on a death list.

They also asked if she was completely horrified about increased taxes to pay for healthcare. She said no. She was okay if her taxes were raised if that meant healthcare for everyone. They were stunned into silence on that one.

At the rally was a mother who spoke about dealing with her sick child while not having health insurance. Her child eventually died and from the protesters the words "You should have been able to save her" were uttered. This is appaling and cruel. No parent who burried their child after fighting the good fight should have to endure an attack like that. To do so is simply evil.

Someone also brought up abortion. I can't even comment on this one. Makes me so angry that they want to make this issue messier and uglier by bringing up this issue. Abortion is going to happen. Period. End of story. Finite. So, just give it up for a while and focus on getting people health care.

Also, some of the protesters tried to sneak behind the fence and steal the rally-goer's sandwiches. I know they spouter this idea of "provider for yourself" but didn't realize stealing was part of that tennant.

Puppy Power

2009-08-26T07:43:00.004-05:00

Here are out little ones, Norris and Oreo. Norris is a year and a half year old short-haired chihuahua. He is white with tan spots. He does have imperfect ears since they don't stand up but that just makes him more adorable. Norris is named after Chuck Norris because a six pound dog needs a tough name.

Oreo is a four year old long-haired Chihuahua. She loves nothing more than to sit on your lap and receive pets, in fact demand pets. She is black and white, and came with the name Oreo.

We enjoy these little guys quite a bit. We got Oreo as a friend for Norris and I think it's working out. They seem to play while we aren't home as Norris is exhausted at night. I think Norris does more playing than Oreo, literally running circles around Oreo. But that's Norris. Oreo doesn't like the camera. As soon as it's out, she turns her head up, sideways, down, etc. She will also not look you in the eyes, more autistic than aggressive. While Norris will have a staring contest. He wins when I play.

Summer Winter Winds

2009-08-22T10:21:00.003-05:00

The gray sky, the more than whispering wind, and the few yellow, green leaves dropping from the trees makes this August seem more like fall. Strange how the weather turned from hot, steamy soup to cold, damp, dishwater. Alas, this summer has gone by us without much outdoor enjoyment.

However, I did experience some new things this summer. I saw a live catfish for the first time and was amazed at how ugly this species of fish is. The skin reminds me of a dolphin or shark, gray and smooth looking. It is the face that makes this fish so horrible. Plus, they also bleed red. To me, fish do not bleed, let alone red.

I drove my fiance's truck in the big city. I'd driven in the Cities before, but not in The Boy's truck. It was okay and I must admire GPS units for without it, I would have been very lost and not so confident.

But summer is coming to an end. School starts on Monday and the pools will be closing. Soon, the chill will cause the air to bite and the drive-in restaurants to close. I must say that I do not enjoy the thought of putting on my winter parka, with it's many layers and warm offerings. I do not wish to cover my hands in fuzzy mittens and watch my breathe float away into the cold. Nor does shoveling, snow plowing, and scraping windshields sounds pleasureable. Sigh.

However, today I am going to enjoy the sun. I am going to feel warm rays on my skin and live today.

Lost on Me

2009-08-13T22:37:00.002-05:00

Summer has finally arrived. It is slow roasting hot. Alas, there are projects to be done outside, but too much time in the warm air would rid of of our juices. I am waiting until until the temperature is turned down and a fan is installed outside.

I have started to "exercise." I use this term loosely. I started on Sunday with .5 miles, then .6, then .7, then .8, and today I pedalled the recumbant bike with gusto to 1.0 miles. The next attempt is to ride 1.0 mile for the next 7 days. I have not changed my eating habits. Some may think this is silly, but I don't want too many ideas clouding up my goals, leaving me with a puffy mess.

Our puppies are finally platonic friends. Their relationship has been downgraded to running, jumping, and toy stealing buddies. This is a welcome reduction in friendliness after dealing with high hormones for two weeks. We still are unsure if more puppies are in our future.

2009-08-07T08:30:00.002-05:00

Ah, life is interesting.

I have two un-fixed dogs at home, one male and one female. Unfortanately, the girl has gone into heat. Oreo has turned my little Norris into a horn dog, literally. I keep telling Oreo she's a Hussy because it makes me feel better, but I am tired of trying to stop dogs from humping. He got her one day outside while I was distracted by some guy who rode up to our house wanting to buy the utility trailer sitting next to the garage. Norris got in and was doing his thing. I had to pull him *out*. Disgusting. We may wind upwith puppies after all of our trying to keep them separated.

Eric's liver function tests are still high. Not sure what's going on, but he's been ordered to stop taking his anti-cancer drugs. This makes me nervous. I don't like it. Eric forgot to get his blood drawn yesterday so I reminded him to do it today.

The house is a complete disaster. It smells like dog pee because Oreo has a problem going potty on the pad. She just likes to pee everywhere. I don't get it. There's no rhyme or reason to it. We need to get the big upright carpet cleaner out and do the whole upstairs. The ceiling was leaking water onto the basement carpeting yesterday. It appears to have stopped, but am concerned as to why water was dripping onto the floor. Eric said he'd taken care of it.

This is because I am going to visit my parents this weekend. I need a break and Eric said he'd punch me in the face if I didn't go. That's what Eric says when I'm being obnoxious or annoying, "I'm going to punch you in the face, right in the nose." He, of course, does not do this. It's just his cue to me that I should knock it off, whatever I may be doing.

Oreo has become okay with the leash now. This is good. She cringed before and was completely upset by it. Now, she thinks it's okay.

We didn't have water last night in our little town. Not sure what was happening, but I wanted to do laundry for my little trip. Alas, I could not. I managed to find some clean clothes, but it was a feat.

It's a count of ten

2009-07-06T22:16:00.003-05:00

Thoughts are disjointed, thoughts are in neutral.

So, here is a list. Lists help put things in order even if the there is no order to the list. That is how amazing lists are. Perhaps you should feel the power of the list and start one of your own. The topic can be of your choosing, just remember that lists can take on power of their own.

1. I am completely addicted to breaded deep fried cauliflower from the a drive-in restaurant twenty miles from the house.

2. I purchased a tank top, two actually, and I wore one of them already in public!! I have not done this since I was in elementary school and it felt sexy this time, unlike the last time when I was eight or so. It also felt weird showing so much skin because as a fat girl that's something we're advised not to do.

3. My grandma is in the hospital again. She seems to be doing better though. However, she has a chronic illness that makes hospital visits par for the course.

4. Some of my cousins are now my "friends" on Facebook and this is the first time I have "seen" some of them in more than a year.

5. This post is now being completed a week or more later.

6. The Boy told me to come up with an activity for us to do and we'll do it. I've been bored and sad again lately. I don't know what brings this on.

7. My parents are supposed to come see our house next Saturday. It's Riverfest Days so maybe we'll partake in some activities.

8. I love Chuch Taylors.

9. I took pictures yesterday for the first time in months and months. It was totally fun and I realized how much I missed doing it.

10. I want a swimming pool in my backyard.

It once was

2009-06-28T19:51:00.002-05:00

I cannot believe July is almost upon us. For me, the time has just flown by...

Speaking of time past, I was thinking of things the other day that I miss, that I haven't done or heard about in a long time. So, I thought I'd share them with you and see if I can't spark a few good memories for you also.

1. Cat's Cradle- the game with the string and the different hand movements. I loved this game and found it's fascinating to see how long we could keep going. I never hear nor see little kids, particulary girls playing this.

2. Hide and Seek- I havent' played this game in so long. I was driving the other day with my windows open. I saw three boys in the front yard, then saw two of them run off, with the third one standing by a basketball hoop, his forearm covering his eyes and resting against the pole. It was the 100-99-98-97 that brought me back. My favorite hiding spot is no longer there, the bush I'd hide behind is gone. The other trick, to slide under the fence into the neighbor's yard, is also not an option since the fence is gone and there's no way I'd fit under the fence nowadays.

3. Water fights- The neighbor kids were having a water fight a week ago. It was turning dusk, but the heat was still present. We could hear their giggles and screams as they soaked each other. I haven't had water fight since I was in high school. I burnt my eyelids that summer. Something I don't recommend.

4. Friends- I don't have many friends in this neck-of-the-woods and if I am true, I'm awful lonely. I sometimes need some girl talk.

5. Snow pants- I don't see children walk to school in snow pants or snow suits anymore. I remember them so clearly and how you could stay outside for hours in them. I remember the buckles to the straps and the wonderful clicking sound they made. Although, I don't think I'd know what to do with them if I had a pair. I could make snow angels, but would quickly bore of that and alas, there are no hills in this part of the country.

6. Sleepovers- Staying up all night, talking about boys, giggling, and most importantly, not sleeping.

7. The sun- I remember just going outside as a child. My back exposed, my arms and legs sticking out, and no sunscreen, no worries of sunburn. Now, I watch for pinkness, I try to plan when I will be outside, I wear hats if out for prolonged periods, put on sunscreen SPF 50, etc. Not only do I fear the pain that sunburn brings, but the longer lasting consequences of cancer.

8. Being Ignorant About Cancer- Once it touches you, it's everywhere. It's a horrible disease, comes in too many forms to keep track of, and can be so sneaky. It'll slip from your skin to your liver, to your brain, it find its way into your blood, into your bones, and leave you unable to fight. The treatments take your energy, your hair, make you feel sicker than the cancer itself, and then sometimes it takes your hope when the treatments no longer work. *curb stomps cancer*

9. Not Being Called "Ma'am"- I am a ma'am now. It's awful. I feel too young for that title. I feel I don't look old enough to be a ma'am but I know I am.

10. Never having had a cute body- I never got to wear a bikini or sexy clothes. Never had that chance. I am sad about this. I always wanted to wear the newest clothes, the cutest little shirts, the fun shorts, but could not. Had to settle for what was out there and even still, what's out there isn't always a great choice.

Certain Shades of Pink

2009-06-15T15:39:00.002-05:00

The sun finally shown, the sky finally blue not gray, and my skin finally warm with heat felt this weekend melt.

I am also coming to realize that I am unsure why I ever wore pants in the summer if I was going to be outside. Trends, fads, and peer pressure, brought me to pants once. There was also another reason, but all the reasons are now gone. I show my legs, bright white and with thighs that rub together. I show my feet, no pedicures for this girl. I am not ashamed of skin, of dimpled fat, of myself. So, here I come.

Problem with it? Too bad, then don't look. Ah, how the tortures of childhood always stay with us. Always defensive. Always ready to fight.

So, anyway. Glad it's sunny, warm, and finally looking like summer. However, that date looms before me. Big NEON sign with July 17, 7-17, with 17s all over, with cancer all over it, with black touches of death all over it, pulses in my head.

So, perhaps I shall place suntan lotion on my skin in the shapes of 17's and stand out in the sun, tanning myself into cancer but whitening myself in a 17 montage. Perhaps not also.

Word to your mother

2009-05-24T22:50:00.002-05:00

I've decided not to attend my class reunion. A friend of mine made a point the other day by saying that she barely remembers her friends from high school let alone some random person she had a class with ten years ago. The reason I wanted to go the reunion was out of curiosity and the hope that some of my old friends would make the journey to our hometown for it. But I don't think that's going to happen. Besides, Eric will be on his oral chemo regime at that time and he doesn't feel the best during those fifteen days. I also decided that I may go to town that weekend just to see if I run into anyone.

Eric's school is having an all class reunion this summer. But tickets are $50 a piece. Even if we weren't struggling for money, I can't see spending that much to attend a school reunion. So, we may just do the same for his and pop into that town to see who we can see.

Today we went to Eric's niece's high school graduation reception. We couldn't make the actual graduation, but had time for the reception. However, we found ourselves unable to find the reception location, so we went to find the high school in order to ask Eric's sister where it was taking place. We got to the school just as the graduation was letting out. Anyway, while driving around looking for the school we came across a lemonade stand. A little girl had lemonade for a quarter and cookies for a quarter. Eric gave the little girl two dollars and asked for two cookies and two lemondes. He told her to keep the extra money. As we drove away, we heard the little girl pull her arm in towards her body and say "Yes!" Watching him make a kid's day, makes my day.

Snow Shine through the Winds of Time

2009-05-21T11:17:00.002-05:00

In a dramatic movie twist, my aunt died last Friday. She had cancer, but we were not informed until the day before she died. However, that's not what killed her. They aren't sure what did the dying. Mayo clinic received some bacteria for testing and they don't know what it is. Death came quickly and maybe prematurely, for it was humans who removed the ventilator.

I am ready to be out in the sun and to actually feel its warmth. This faux sunshine with bitterly cold winds is for winter, not spring, not almost summer. The weather is as confusing as my aunt's death. Unfortunately, her cancer adds more to the family history page at the doctor's office: breast and liver cancer. The weather need not be added to the family history. But then again...

My grandmother was in the hospital again. She has non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver. Ammonia levels build up in her system and give her the "fuzzies." She becomes confused, beligerant, and sometimes unresponsive. She was very unresponsive this last time and had to be carried out by ambulance. She's quite the lady though. When she came to, someone commented that she only had on one arthritis glove and that she was like Micheal Jackson. Her reply was "That may be, but I don't grab my crotch."

Oh, gotta love grandma. She's a little loco but in a good way.

What's that go to do with anything?

2009-05-05T20:48:00.004-05:00

I have so much to say that it's time for a list.

1. In regards to my previous post, I heard more horrible things said about foreigners. What gets me the most, is that so many Americans assume we have the right idea about everything. How do they think that our way is the right way? Other nation's have better healthcare, Europe together has an awesome railway system, student perform better in other countries, so what makes anyone have the right to say say "Well, they're in a America now so they better..." Unless it's against the law, what right?

2. I've decided not to talk at work anymore. If I need to ask a question or someone speaks to me first, I'll speak.

3. I hate menstruating. I want my uterus removed. I will not be having children and don't need it.

4. I think back to my childhood, teenage years, and early twenties, and I was always looking for someone to save me, if not save me, find something special about me and groom me for greatness. Well at least for normalcy.

5. I don't feel like I fit in most of the time. I always sort of feel on the fringe of things.

6. I have made no close friends since I moved to this area over two years ago.

7. I keep wondering what is wrong with me. Why do I turn people off from being my friend... I don't come up with any answers.

8. I should not be allowed near ovens. I've burned myself more times in the past month than all the months combined.

9. I am scared of power saws. If I can't stay safe near an oven, imagine a power saw.

10. I want to work for a non-profit helping people or a government agency in the social services department.

11. I would like to start a non-profit that assists people who's spouses, family members, have cancer and help out with laundry, lawn care, grocery shopping, all the things I couldn't or wouldn't do when Eric was in Mayo. That's what help I could have used and perhaps others are in the same boat.

12. Not sure how to go about doing this though.

13. I've been feeling hideous lately.

14. I play Wii tennis for shit.

15. I like bowling and I have a word game that is fun.

16. We want a futon. We have plans for our second bedroom upstairs and the requires moving the bed out and getting a futon.

18. I also want a file cabinet.

19. I like volunteering, but I hate having commitments. If I could just drop in somewhere and do something now and again that'd be awesome.

20. Do-it-yourself home improvement projects are harder than they look.

Naive

2009-04-23T03:49:00.003-05:00

I am saddened today. Words read on Facebook have led me to this feeling. There was a comment from someone concerning a document that her boss wanted translated into Spanish. Her response was that she would not do it and that the client should learn English. This document was regarding a funeral. The comments of others followed suit, this is America and they should learn our language. There was no wiggle room in their words.

Why does this sadden me? Because these people are not acknowledging American privilege. If one uses logic, facts, and thinks for a moment, if someone comes to America and does not know English, most likely this person is poor. Why is this my conclusion? Because many in other countries who have access to schools and education, learn English.

Also, even if education was accessible, it does not mean that the school had the ability to teach another language. There may not have been enough materials to teach their own language. There may not have been adequate bathroom facilities. 2.6 billion people do not have access to sanitation, meaning they have no kind of toilet whatsoever, be it a flush toilet, a pit latrine, etc.

Continuing on the education track, even if the person could speak English it does not mean the client can read English. There's a vast difference that should also be mentioned between speaking and reading a language.

So, the person comes to America most likely poor, most likely an adult, and scared. We don't take that in to account often enough. What a transition they must make from their previous home to America. I know it was different for me to move from Bismarck to Fargo. A whole new world, I can't imagine another country.

This person may also come to this country alone, no family, no close friends. Perhaps he or she is a refugee, praytell when should their English lessons have begun?

When I speak of American privilege that clouds our judgements, is that many assume there's adequate food, potable water, toilet facilities, free education, access to libraries, electricity, etc. This is not the case for many who come to this country seeking a better life.

Okay, so once they are here why can't they learn English? Have you ever been truly poor? Those people who made the comments I know have not. If you come to this country, poor, uneducated, or come from a country where your university system is not recognized to meet our standards, cannot even read in your own language, have kids to care for, are trying to earn money to send back home so people can eat, have access to medical treatments, etc, is your concern going to be learning the language? No. Survival versus leisure is a concept unknown to those people.

Perhaps they are working two jobs, more, may have poor health, have kids to care for, struggle to buy food, etc learning a language takes time and dedication. One would assume that just by being around the language it would sink in. This is not true. I've seen it, tried to over come that language barrier, and it's not such a simple task. Their precious hours of the day that are not spent trying to survive are probably spent doing those necessary acts, such as cleaning, eating, sleeping, etc. Plus, to learn a language as an adult is hard. Don't think so? Try it.

Also, how many Americans travel abroad each year and do not know the language? Thousands. But you say, they are merely visiting and don't need to know. How do you know this was not the case for some immigrants. They were merely visiting and found themselves a permanent home. I do not want to debate legal vs "illegal" immigration. Whatever means brought someone here, they are already here.

Many people are also embarrasssed to try and attempt to speak a language they are just learning. Stumbling over new letter sounds, unknown verb tenses, and nouns with plural endings that don't follow the rules.

It's funny, some of the most ardent "supporters" of everyone knowing English cannot speak nor write it correctly, themselves. I find this most funny of all.

Also, you can open a can of worms (did I mentions idioms are difficult to understand) by mentioning that until World War I many classroooms, churches, newspapers were in German. The only reason that language was abandoned was due to the hatred of the German nation during that time. Many of those people living in this region during that time did not speak nor read any English.

America also enjoys what other cultures have brought us, in tems of food, music, movies, etc. Yet we condemn those very people who bring them to us. I am all for bilingualism, however, it goes both ways. Americans need to also learn another language. Perhaps offer to teach someone who cannot speak English, help translate while they learn. Languages are not learned overnight. No one who commented also gave any room for the fact that maybe they are learning but haven't quite mastered it yet.

Anyway. Enough. I feel ashamed for those people who do not cut anyone but themselves any slack.

2009-04-09T23:18:00.002-05:00

I want to plan a garden this summer. Rows of green beans, stalks of corn sticking out of the black earth, watermelons crawling onto the grass and dimpling the lawn with their juicy, hefty weight. The yard was neglected last summer after Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. The weeds proved they are heartier and swalled up the flower beds. I fear a reprise of that, where it starts well with flowers blooming, green leaves soaking up the sun, and the weeds pulled, and then where there is nothing but weeds and dead leaves smothering everything else.

I fear the summer. I so want to enjoy the good things of summer, such as warm days, garage sales, taking pictures, walking Norris, but I am so scared of that looming month. I fear July. It's a month I'd rather skip. I was too out of it and worried, just trying to function to remember August. But July stands out, all the phone calls and the progression from worse to badder to even worse.

Knowing what I know now about July, I know how close I came to losing my boy. I know that while we can laugh now that he didn't know how to spell his own name or know his own date of brith, that he was encroaching on death. Perhaps, Eric was like a weed for Death, the man in black with the scythe, and Death was still on top of things in his yard. He pulled Eric out of his garden of doom and gloom and put him back into my life, made Eric a plant bloom before our eyes in a Hospital room in Minnesota. That's one garden that I will monitor closely, making sure Eric is healthy, nurished, well-grounded, surrounding my symbiotic relationships, and has the right amount of tender loving care.

So, maybe with these thoughts I can look forward to summer again, to allowing things to grow from the earth, and to knowing that even when it seems like it won't come back to life, it may surprise you.

It's a wash

2009-03-20T19:32:00.003-05:00

Hola,

Let's add some ethnic flair today. I think that's all I have in me, although I do dream in Spanish sometimes. It's very basic Spanish mixed with English, but it's fun. Keeps me a little fresh with another language at least.

Oh, so it's been a week. Work started out hectic with my manager having a load of crap dumped on her and while she was a trooper you could see the stress level rising. I felt bad, so I gave her a can of Coke. One tries to help when one can.

Also, my first boyfriend ever, Will, has his birthday on Sunday. He is officially 32. Man, the time flies! Sadly, his mom died a few days before that. Not a way to celebrate your birthday. So, far from what he's telling me he is being a trooper. Will is a super nice guy and I hope he finds a super nice girl some day. I was just not the girl for him. But we are texting friends thanks to the techonology of cell phones. So, please send him positive thoughts during this grieving process.

Our washing machine finally stopped working, kaput. We were able to get a new set, a washer and dryer, since our dryer sounds like an airplane, from Menards. Praise Menards! They had a sale going on and the no interest, no payments until 2010. However, the washing machine had a broken piece on it discovered after it was delivered. Not a huge deal, but we still don't have a working washing machine. And there is not laudromat in our small town. It's at least a twenty mile drive to one if not more. So, if you come over, it may be a bit smelly. Just kidding.

Also, when they delivered the washing machine, there was only one delivery driver. Eric had to assist with that, which left him whipped and sore. This is not how he should be recouperating. He is still slowing working into things. So, a little unhappy about that at the moment, but what can you do?

We also have company coming this weekend. So, I am hoping I can find some clean bedding in the linen closet. You know, none of our beds have the same size sheets. So, it's irritating to make sure that we have the correct sheets for the correct bed clean at whatever time.

You know, I think there's a reason I've always hated laundry. Anyway.

The sun is shining, the snow is melting, and I'm hungry. Have a great weekend ya'll.

It's a diet coke day

2009-03-06T18:10:00.002-06:00

I do believe I had been abandoned by the blogging world. It is punishment for not posting enough. I also know that posting so infrequently punishes me. My creative juices don't get to flow, well they do, but just don't go anywhere. Then I wind up in this funk where I want life to be "different," adventurous," "new," and so on. But when those things actually happen, I'm terrified! The damming that occurs without blogging gets me flooded with emotion and I had no sand bags to stop the water.

Speaking of water, I need to check into flood insurance. They says it's going to happen again. So, I better call the insurance man and see if he'll take more of my money. I am sure he'd be more than happy to do so. I merely need to find more money to give him. Perhaps a second job? That idea is not appealing, but I will do what I have to do.

We could cut down on the amount of money we spend on television, but it's our only form of entertainment in the small town we live in. There's not much else to do, especially in the winter.

Well, this short blog is over. I hope every has a wonderful weekend. I'm unsure what mine will bring as The Boy is crabby. He's not feeling well again. Poor guy. Leukemia sucks.

2009-03-05T17:54:00.002-06:00

Hello Blog Land,

How is everyone out there?

You know, I have few wants in life, but one of my desires is to have internet access at home. Alas, this is not to be for now. Eric and I are struggling financially at the moment, but hopefully things will improve. It's a bit scary though when you hear the news of the economy. Makes one uncertain about nearly everything else in life.

Money is tight and so are my clothes. Another woe is that I have really packed on the pounds and I am unsure where it's come from and why? I think part of it is some of the medications I am on can cause weight gain. This seems a silly side effect for diabetes medication, but what can you do? So, starting next week Eric and I are going to attempt a healthier lifestyle. We'll see how that actually works in reality. But maybe if we do it together some good can come of it.

I am fairly certain I am about done with winter, but that's not really a choice we get is it? Another choice we do not get is whether or not we have CBS. Currently our dish carrier is fighting with the local station about how much money the local station should be paid. They have not come to an agreement yet and I am unsure they will any time soon. So, no Big Bang Theory for us. I blame the local affiliate. What they are asking for is rediculous. It's akin to me wanting to sell my house for real estate prices in New York City. Well, even with the down turn in the housing market, that just isn't realistic.

Eric has had a couple of bouts of illness, a virus which he received antibiotics for and a tummy bug. The medications he is on can cause a suppressed immune system so we must be diligent about keeping such pesky germs under control. It's not the same as just a regular person catching a cold or getting the flu. Nor is it the same when I clean the toilet knowing I may come into contact with chemo. Life changes and if either of us cared about my reproductive health, life would be a lot more difficult. But since we don't, we're a bit more lax about me coming into contact with that stuff (don't get dirty folks- that's a no no during chemo).

Well, I best be off. Head home on what may be an ice rink. The last time it was icy I saw a snow plow tipped over. One stays home after seeing that.

New and Not Improved

2009-01-05T16:03:00.002-06:00

It's a time of firsts in my life.

This is the first time I have ever been engaged.

I also saw Andrew for the first time in two years. It was an odd feeling, but good also. I didn't know if he was alive, dead, or somewhere in between. I still care for Andrew as a friend and have often wondered about him. Now, I know. It seems Andrew likes status quo for he is nearly the same.

I will have my first pool table in my house. Eric received one from his parents for Christmas. A very welcome gift in Eric's mind. I was asked if I had room for one and I laughed, saying yes, we probably have room for three. I told this tidbit to Eric and he said, "Awesome. We could have pool tournaments in our basement." Um, no. We won't be.

I kissed someone at midnight for the first time in three years. It was nice to celebrate the evening, even if low-key. We spend the night in our basement playing games and then watching the ball drop.

I used a snowblower for the first time. I have not yet mastered straight lines, but in due time. Maybe not. I still don't mow straight. It's more out of overcoming boredom than it is out of being a poor lawn mower.

I have finally, for the first time, come to the realization of how important it is to have a winter survival kit in the car. I still don't have one, but I know it's important now. Baby steps, you know.

Another new item, I found a great clearance sale at K-Mart. This usually doesn't happen. The item usually ends up being more once you get it to the register than the tag stated.

So, what is new with you and your lives? Oh, and I have no New Year's resolution. I can't stick to anything. I'm just going with the flow. And that flow cleaned my kitchen, finally. So, perhaps the flow works.

Blizzards have names?

2008-12-18T19:32:00.003-06:00

It is that time again.

Time for me to blog. It happens so rarely.

Today is a day for joy, except I am not feeling it. I feel fat, bloated, ugly, and have not done my eyebrows in way too many weeks. I feel like a sasquatch.

However, I must prevail and summon up the happiness, for the occasion is ripe with pickings.

Today, The Boy was pronounced cancer free. He received great news from the Mayo Clinic and his Oncologist. It's fabulous. Now, he will start his two year maintenance regime.

Last Saturday, I got engaged. The Boy asked me to marry him, all right and proper, too. Down on one knee with a ring, purchased by a generous benefactor (his mom). He used a Scrabble board to propose. It was quite thoughtful and sweet. My ring did not fit and is being resized. I cannot find anything like it online so you will all have to wait until it's on my hand.

I found some excellent snowboots that have great grips in the slippery snow. This is not an easy task as for some reason those who manufacture and or design boots seem to not come from snow climates. I do not understand. Also, I am not ready to show for a swimsuit or sandals. Put those away and give me mittens and gloves until March. Really people.

I decorated my cubicle for the holiday season and while I did not win the decorating constest, I think I won anyway. The Boy and I spend hour cutting, coloring, and creating a winter snow people scene complete with Christmas tree, presents, hats, windows, stockings, and so much more. So, mine's better. Ha.

Well, that's all folks. I hope you enoyed today's reading. Until next time on... Reading Rainbow...

I love me some Lavar Burton.

Turn it On

2008-11-21T17:28:00.000-06:00

I complained on Wednesday because our small town did not have any water. They were making necessary repairs and while doing that, more things broke. Of course, you say. We had been warned that we wouldn't have water on Tuesday and by 7 O'clock that night, we had water coming out the pipes. Then, by 10 O'clock the same night, they were dry once more. The next morning they weren't on either and I had to shove off to work un-showered. I felt unawake all day, foggy and groggy. Showers are my morning coffee. I also felt greasy and gross. I am not one of those lovely girls who can wake up the next morning and look okay not showering, be okay not showering.

So, I went to work in my unshowered outfit. It's fine to choose not to shower one weekend day when I am not going to leave the house, but work? Bleh. So, I went. Then, while I was at work I took a peek at what was happening in the world by going to CNN's website. There, I see an article that is wrenching, is horrible that happens, that there is such a disparity. I am morbidly obese. I am fat- It's not a mean, cruel comment. It just is. And there are Zimbabwean women, mothers choosing which child will die by means of starvation. There is not enough food to feed them all, so they much choose which they thing will survive. In America, that's called murder. In Zimbabwea, that's called life.

If I could give up some of my caloric intake and know that it would go to someone in need, I would. In fact, I did. We had a food drive at work and I added my cans and boxes to the mix. Sadly, we cannot give fresh products and we wonder why those who are poor are heavy. Cheap food is unhealthy food. Ramen noodles are less than twenty cents a pack while apples are at least a dollar a pound. You choose.... you have a dollar and two kids at home. What do you buy?

Sadly, those women in Zimbabwea don't have a choice of food, just of which child dies. Sadly, I complained about no water, but I merely meant it in humor. I went home and showered off the filth as soon as I could as the weight came back on at noon on Wednesday. But I can't rinse away those women who must choose. It's sad that I am so entrenched in modern ammenities, I nearly didn't know what to do without the streaming liquid coming from the faucet. I really don't know what those women do to make that choice either, a much harsher reality than a few hours of the water being shut off.

Ms. Lister

2008-11-17T12:23:00.000-06:00

Hello all,

No one seemed to care for my last entry so we'll make it a bit lighter. Not to mention, I'll be making a list, which everyone knows I adore!

1. What started out as a cute quirk, Norris the dog, likes to pick up shoes. At first, he just picked them up and put them in the middle of the living room. A wee bit dangerous, but endearing. Then, he started chewing on the plastic ends of the shoelaces. And then, oh and then..!! he chewed my leather boot. My boots may be about seven years old or so, but no one would have known. And now, at the top which no one sees but me or a few others is chewed. Naughty puppy.

2. However, it's still cute that he drug my two pound boot from the doorway to the living room considering the shoe only weighs three pounds less than he does.

3. I think I am becoming completely someone I never thought I would be... I asked for a complete spice rack for Christmas. I used to never even use salt or pepper and now I want a spice rack. Well, I still hate salt. It's gross for the most part. If I could have fries, nuts, chips, and other food products without salt I would, all except for soup. Soup is icky without salt. Ever tried the low salt chicken soup? Yeah, don't do it.

4. I went to see an endocrinologist and I do not have any weird, rare hormonal dieseases. This is good in some ways and bad in others. It means that I just have to live with the symptoms of Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. This diagnosis was confirmed.

5. I need new flooring in my house. Anyone want to chip in?

6. People don't seem to realize that The Boy is not my pet, not my child, or any other subordinate in the house. I cannot make him lose weight. I mean, really, we're focusing on overcoming leukemia. The weight loss will have to wait (ha ha ha) since he won't really lose enough to make a difference on his own anyway. That's the whole reason he has gastric bypass surgery planned/scheduled. Leukemia just put a speed bump on things. So, don't lecture me about how he should eat, he should try to lose weight, etc. I'm not his keeper.

7. The endocrinologist asked if I had ever thought about lap band surgery. I have but I don't know what I'd do as a "skinny" person. Eat less?! Ha ha. Not sure, I may consider it but not right now. We're still doing the leukemia dance.

8. Hurley is quite contented and spoiled living with my parents. She shall have many happy days there as it's her permanent home now.

9. Gagging is not fun, especially if it happens for nearly two weeks for reasons you can't figure out.

10. I had allergy testing done. I am allergic to cats, which is fine since I don't like them anyway. I am allergic to Red Alder trees, which is annoying in the spring time. I am also allergic to cockroaches. Odd since we generally don't have cockroaches in this part of the country, but he asked if I've ever been down south or to the coast, I replied yes to both. There go my plans for inner city living and a move to Georgia.

11. I dislike cookie cutter houses. They are icky.

12. I learned how to start our snowblower in case I have to use it this winter if The Boy is unable to do so. Wee! Watch out, or I'll blow you to the rooftops.

13. My grandmother is in the hospital again. She had a UTI that went to her blood.

14. My nun costume from Halloween is ungodly hot-get it?!

15. There's nothing else. I just didn't want to end it on a weird number.

It's a Memory.

2008-10-28T19:09:00.000-05:00

The time I spent working as an Americorps VISTA gave me a chance to see a world that I hadn’t experienced since elementary school. That world is called Poverty.

It’s not a place people wish to visit, it’s not a tourist destination anywhere, it doesn’t have fun rides or good food, and it’s not a place most people want to or think they will wind up. With the economic crises around the world, Poverty is going to become even more crowded than it already is.

Elementary school gives me a few memories of dirty faces, dirty clothes, mention of someone who didn’t have indoor plumbing (most likely because the water had been shut off), and a sense of making due.

Some of the kids I met while working as a VISTA have left permanent marks and memories. It was not their poverty that keeps them in mind. It is their spirits. It is they who keeps me thinking about them. They stick with me more than kids from high school, more than other student and professors in college.

It is how much they were themselves that still catches my thoughts. It was how they pretended to be nothing less and did not feel less, most of the time. You could catch those who were being broken down by their poverty. You could see it in their posture and in their eyes. They were hunched and ready to fight. Their eyes were angry and hateful, but so sad. They are the pennies, thrown in the garbage, those dropped on the streets and not picked up, those coins left behind because they aren't worth much. The tarnish shows on the children and pennies alike.

There are two in particular whom I hope for but am not sure hope will help. I hate to say too late, but it could have been for them. Brother and Sister, hungry for food, hungry for attention their mother cannot give. In need of clothes that fit, shoes that aren't falling apart and smelly, in need of some enormous tiny gestures of love.

There is the girl who is a boy. Her hair is short and often covered in a baseball cap. She wears boys baggy jeans, t-shirts, and plays with the boys. She has not a girly bone to her, it seemed. Yet, her name was that of a flower and she liked it. She could not stand being called a "He." She is someone I wonder about for she did not apologize for wanting the best of both worlds. She was tough for a tough world. She put forth her strength in short hair, in sports, in being masculine. Yet, she knows she's a girl and doesn't deny it. She merely hides it so she is not so vulnerable.

So, what becomes of them? I don't know and I shall probably never know. Except for one. I expect great things from her. I hope she is one of those Cinderella stories on Dateline one night. Rags to Riches, by using her brain and her kindness. I want to see her on tv campaigning for her next election. She could bring all kinds of worlds together, that girl.

Halloween Bash!

2008-10-09T12:27:00.000-05:00

2008-10-02T11:02:00.000-05:00

There is a contest going on at work: The Biggest Loser. It is a la the style of the television show and I have entered. I've always been a big girl. Taller, thicker, broader than the rest. Now, I feel just flabby. So, hopefully this will motivate me to start working on the healthy lifestyle.

Also, The Boy's sister gave us an elliptical machine. Those suckers really give you a work out and you can go fowards or backwards on them. This allows for a unique workout and lets you work muscles you didn't know you had. So, maybe I'll become just a little smaller, a little less broad, and more toned.

I don't dream of being a waif or even a size ten. My body is not meant to be that small. I just want to be healthier. It's such an easy statement to make, but such a hard action. Habits are easy to make, but hard to break. It should be interesting to see how it goes. I don't think I've ever really tried very much to lose weight. I did it twice on accident, one by working at a hotel as a maid and the second time by pooping out everything I ate. That was an easy twenty pounds. :o) Not enjoyable, but easy.

So, wish me luck.

In other news!!!! One of my very good friends had her baby, a girl! I find it funny that she has a daughter now since Mommy used to have the name of Vicky-not-a-girl-girl. How things change. Also, another friend is now living in Montana, which has been her dream for a couple of years now. And she found a new job. So, it's excitement all around.

My excitement... I killed a bird while driving this morning. It flew right into my hood. I watched it in the rearview mirror, spin beak over claws until it slapped down on the road of the interstate. Sad.

Fundraiser

2008-09-22T10:28:00.000-05:00

Eric Lutheran
September 27th
In July, fellow pool player, and all around
great guy, Eric Lutheran, was diagnosed
with Acute Promyelocytic Luekemia.
Eric and Amber have been fighting this
disease and its many complications in
Rochester, and Grand Forks. Eric has
recently received the great news that
his Luekemia is in remission. Eric has
been out of work since being diagnosed,
and will continue to have many travel
and medical expenses.
BROKEN DRUM
Sign up from noon to 1:00 pm start
Field must close at first 32 players
Entry fee $15.00
($5.00 goes directly to benefit)
If you are unable to shoot,
please stop by and join in the fun!
Many great
door prizes & raffles
Fun!
Friends!
& Food!
A huge thank you to all
who have contributed :
Broken Drum Cenex 32nd & Demers
TJ’s Pool Hall Holiday Inn
KC Club Americ Inn
I.F. Lafleur & Sons FedEx Kinkos
Slapshot Pizza
If you are interested in getting involved further by
donating a prize for raffle, or food item for lunch,
please contact John Lutheran at 218-779-4802
for

Hair We Go

2008-09-20T10:12:00.000-05:00

It's Saturday and I long for a shower. For some reason, sleeping in hospitals makes me feel extra dirty. Perhaps it's the germs floating around in the air or because I am seeing other people than just Eric or myself in the mirror. Why does short hair make you look like such a monster after sleeping? And why do movies never portray the short hair syndrome? It's stick up all over and makes odd shapes in the back of your head. If you didn't look mutant before, you sure do after sleeping with short hair. Guys usually don't have this issue since some how they look cute with hair sticking up all over. Not sure why that is. Must be something testosterone does.

Scribbles

2008-09-19T18:42:00.000-05:00

I received high praise the other day from two women my dad used to work with before he retired. They read the Caring Bridge site for Eric and because of my small posts and updates there, they believe I should be a writer. My dad also fell into agreement with them because of some papers I'd written in college.

Well, now. How about that? It's something I've always wanted to be, a writer, a professional. However, I lack ideas. I read novels frequently and never identify with the main characters. I am not sure if that makes me so strange or if the main characters in American fiction today are so off base that we all sit there going... Who DOES that? Maybe it's just me and I am too fussy for my own good.

I also talked to a doctor the other day who was impressed with my medical knowledge and thought I ought to give med school a try. Or nursing school since I can finish that so much faster than med school. Perhaps I shall be the next Cook or something. I can write all kinds of horrible medical mysteries. Or, hell stick to real life. It seems more interesting lately than any fiction I've read.

I've come more and more to realize that marriage is not something I need to have or want. It just seems so much more complicated than it needs to be. Who knows, I could change my mind the minute that sparkly ring appears out of its box. Mind you, there is no box and no sparkly ring, it was just a thought.

Well, my knee hurts and precludes me from typing any more. I do not type with my knees, but I am special so knee pain means that this entry is over. Not that anyone reads this anyway. However, I enjoy putting "down" in cyberspace.

Oregon Trail

2008-09-16T17:33:00.000-05:00

Today, I bought a shop-vac. This purchase has a purpose other than sheer desire. Our washing machine leaks out the bottom of it. It's sitting inside a plastic tray, but the water is also sitting in the plastic tray. It's quite gross looking. So, I am going to suck up the water. Then, I am going to vacuum my car with it.

Maybe with a vacuum in hand and at-hand, I'll be more apt to keep my car clean. Somehow I doubt this, but there is always room for change. Just like those ideas in my head that some day I'll exercise, be healthier, eat right, and will change the world by being more in the world.

My world is small at the moment. It's amazing how small one's world because when something happens. The wagons do circle and they block out other parts of the world at times. They shade you from the burning issues of life while you focus on your compadre, they water your garden of love and trust by listening to you cry in the night, and they slowly wheel themselves apart allowing the world to come back to you slowly, so seeing what's behind the covered wagons isn't a shock.

Slow the white sea is parting and the pioneers donning their caps and bonnets, ready to wish me a farewell.

2008-09-15T17:14:00.000-05:00

Some days I am just tired and weird, little things annoy me.

Here is a list of what has been bugging me lately.

1. Celebrities and how much they date/sleep around. It's just gross not to mention I frankly don't care who Reese Witherspoon is eating dinner with at the last hotspot.

2. People who cannot accept their bodies as they are and don't understand acceptance when they hear it. I am fat. This is not mean. I am. I weight 265 pounds and am 5'8". That makes me fat and it's okay. It's the way I am, it's about the way I've been since the second half of seventh grade. I do not plan on being smaller, toned, taut. That's okay.

3. I can't make The Boy do anything he doesn't want to... I am not his keeper, I am not his mother. So, stop trying to see if I can talk him into something.

4. I am tired of being poor. It's irritating and I don't understand how other people in similar situations do not struggle as we do. Maybe I'll blame it on the celebrities.

5. My car is messy... it's like a digusting dive bar you hate going to but once you're in there, it's not too bad.

6. I don't like not being in the loop. I want to know what's going on, want to help if there's something for The Boy, wants to be a part of it in some way instead of being shut out.

7. I cannot stand some attitudes I've recently noticed... this is new a notion to me, but it's just standing out more.

8. This list... so I shall end it.

So, life is moving along. Eric is doing okay and is continuing his treatment for leukemia. He was told he is in Remission last Tuesday, but still requires more treatment. He will have two more rounds of IV chemo and a few more weeks of oral chemo. But the Remission news was excellent. We celebrated with lunch and with the doctor's permission, Eric had two beers.

Things you will know

2008-08-15T18:06:00.000-05:00

Things I Know

1. No one in this town has any faith or trust in the one hospital we have here.

2. I lost mine about a month ago.

3. I can cry and shop for a new shirt at the same time, especially when there are bodily fluids contaminated with chemo the old shirt.

4. I want to teach adults.

5. My grandmother walked around for two months with a broken hip. I knew she was tough, but damn.

6. It is okay to cry even in public, even in front of other people, and even when there is nothing to cry about.

7. Some people love a crisis and will come out of the woodwork to "help" you, but mostly to help themselves feel better and so that they can try to look good. These are dangerous people.

8. Some people are so self-absorbed that when you tell them someone is in the ICU they mention how they are getting their hair cut shorter.

9. The English language needs a gender neutral term other than "it" for he and she so that I may be grammatically correct, but still not give away information.

10. I know who Eric's true friends are even though I haven't met many of them.

11. That Orange is my new favorite color because I am going to tell everyone about leukemia.

12. That humble doctors are much more tolerable and easier to listen to than those who think they are more than human.

13. I can get stuff done. I will scream, fight for things, and push to get things down.

14. I love my parents. They are supportive and have been so great through all of this. I can't imagine what I would be like if it weren't for them. I also love them for taking my millions of calls all day long, especially when I have nothing to say but just don't want to be alone with my thoughts.

15. My parents actually love my dog. But she is cute as a button.

16. My brother may have glimpsed real life this summer.

17. I am more brash than I believed myself to be.

18. Nurses often have more attitude than doctors.

19. I can get my RN degree in two years.

20. I have thought about Med School but am unsure I am smart enough. I don't want to be a doctor who allows people to lose their faith in medicine.

21. I am not a spiritual person. Reaching heavenward to guide me through this never even occurred to me.

22. Some days you just need a drink.

23. I am not sure if it's love unless you can wipe the other person's ass.

24. Some people do not know how to talk in family waiting rooms at hospitals.

25. Caring Bridge is a wonderful organization.

Hard

2008-07-28T04:46:00.000-05:00

Eric had been in the ICU from Wednesday to Saturday. He moved back down to the oncology floor on Saturday afternoon, but he still hasn't been up and out of bed much. He is so bruised all over and he sleeps all day. One of the doctors said that his body has been through a lot and that it's normal to sleep a lot, to feel tired.

I plan on going home today, which I think is a good thing as I now have a full-blown cold. Before it was just the sniffles and a tickle in my throat. I wote a mask when I was in his room, but now I think it would be better if I went home for a few days to recover. I do NOT want to make The Boy sick. He's got enough on his plate.

It's so hard to watch him be sick. The feeling of helplessness is dragging. When he is awake I constantly ask him if he wants or needs something, which is not what he wants. He just wants to wake up and see me there. I do help him when he asks, but mostly he just wants our emotional support. The nurses and doctors are there for his physical support.

I met a very nice woman whose husband is here receiving treatment for leukemia. She is nice, but that did not prevent me from wanting to punch her in the face, not to mention her husband's. I heard him say "That colored guy told me to go..." What the F? It is not 1950 and the word colored describes objects not people. I had been on the phone in the family room with my parents talking about Eric's status.

When I got off the phone she said it sounded like we were having problems too. I said yes, that he just got moved down from the ICU. She said her husband has blood cancer, she couldn't think of the word leukemia. I said that Eric did too. Then she goes on to say that he probably isn't as bad as her husband who has acute leukemia. I said, yes that's what Eric has too. Then she asked me what the ICU is... wtf.

Okay, first off don't assume your husband who is up, walking, talking, and being faily jovial is worse off than The Boy who just came down from the Intensive Care Unit since his blood pressures was around 40/20 and they couldn't find a pulse, and whose kidneys weren't working. Don't even assume that shit. And the ICU, what the hell... that's a common term.

She's exactly the person I never want to be. We are all here with problems or we wouldn't be hanging around the Mayo clinic.

As I watch the staff here work, I know I want to go back to school. I am still not sure if I want nursing or med school, but the university in the town Eric and I work in has both options. So, I can look into it when I get back and maybe start something when Eric is well again.

Kemia Chemo

2008-07-25T01:17:00.000-05:00

I read my last post and would be willing to return to the bathroom problem if we could take back what has happened.

On Thursday, July 17th, Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. It's an acute and rare form. He is currently being treated by the knowledgeable staff at the Mayo clinic. He is in the ICU receiving dialysis since his kidneys are under- functioning. After a very scary Tuesday, his blood pressure and oxygen levels are better. He looks so fragile hooked up to all those tubes, monitors, and gadgets. And it's hard to see The Boy as fragile as he is a very big guy.

He's been sleeping a lot. I couldn't make it down here until Wednesday afternoon but am so glad I am here to be with him. Even if all I do is sit across the room and watch him. It feels so much better than sitting at my desk agonizing over how he's doing, how he's feeling, and what's going on.

Life takes on some new meanings when things become scary. Little things don't seem to matter so much anymore. Living is where it's at and living good is what it's all about.

Lately, I'd been talking about what I want to do with my life and having seen quality care in action, I want to go into medicine. I haven't decided if I want to be a nurse with the more hands on approach or a doctor with the scientific side being more heavily weighted. Whichever I choose, The Boy, said I had to do something in oncology. I think I can handle that.

Here's to chemotherapy, here's to the doctors and nurses, here's to all the people who care, and here's to living large and living hard (not hard living, but living hard).

To The Boy- I love you. That's all that needs to be said. I love you.

Tick Tock

2008-07-10T18:14:00.000-05:00

My life has begun to revolve around the bathroom. I shower in the morning, by the time I get to work I usually have to pee, then for some reason my intestines believe that they must expell all their contents.

I have had diarrhea every day since June 30. It's becoming unpleasant. I had some tests performed and they came back negative. So, I am still pooping and have no answers. My next test is to complete eliminate all dairy products. If that doesn't work and the medical community doesn't have any other answers, we're moving on to wheat gluten.

Hurley, our first puppy was spayed on Monday. When I went to pick her up at the vet's office, I nearly cried. She tried to lick my face just once, but wasn't up for it. I just held her in my arms and made a cozy place for her on my front seat. When I brought her in the house, I placed her on the loveseat with blankets. I sat with her most of the night just petting her head and stroking her back. She kept looking at me with these sad eyes that seem to say to me "Why did you let them do this to me? How could you?"

I left her on the couch all night, where I don't believe she moved. Norris, oh little Norris. I picked him up and let him sniff Hurley. Since she spent most of the day in a kennel with other animals around, she smelled a little funny. Well, apparently to Norris she smelled scary. He started shaking and looked terrified. Eventually, he came around and just sat next to his pal and sister all night. The next morning and definitely this morning, I knew she was better.

She still can't boing boing jump like she used to, but she's putting her front paws up on our legs like she always did. My sweet little girl will always be a little girl now. Well, I may be lying about the sweet part.

Simply News

2008-07-08T17:25:00.001-05:00

Hello all.

I simply have little news. I am not quite sure if I could dwindle it down to no news, but perhaps scant new shall work.

The Boy was approved by his insurance company for his weight loss surgery. This means he has a month and half to lose 50 pounds. I hope no other obstacles get in his way or he shall lose his way on this journey. He will seek refuge in the fridge and will no longer try to obtain this goal of weight loss surgery. He is having something done that is different. Here is a website if you feel like checking it out: http://www.duodenalswitch.com/

I, on the other hand, lost five pounds since weighing myself last. I am wondering if this is due to the constant diarrhea that I have. I went to the doctor for it since it lasted a week and I am frankly tired of spending many minutes, maybe even hours in the bathroom each day. I was the lucky patient who had to give a sample... yeah, that kind of sample. Now, they recommend that you get a bowl, such as a Cool-Whip or Margerine tub to use. One that's clean and has been washed. I knew I didn't have any of these at home so I headed to the dollar store where life's dreams can be fulfilled. Well, at least my need for a cheap throw-away bowl. They had four plastic bowls for a dollar. I scooped one pack up and went home.

I would have given the sample at the doctor's office, but there was literally nothing left in me. So, at home armed with my bowl, a spastic bowel, and a plugged nose I scooped my poop. The vials I received had little spoons attached to their covers. After I was done, I threw my quarter away. It was disgusting, but hopefully I'll garner some answers. It'll be a five day or so wait on the results so I'll just be sitting here (most likely in the bathroom) waiting for the answers.

In other lab news, my father is awaiting his results on the tests for lyme disease and West Nile Virus. He does not have Mono.

Reading Myself

2008-06-25T18:07:00.000-05:00

I am not a neat person by nature. I leave plates, cups, and other dishes in the living room. I throw my dirty clothes on the floor in my room and leave them as they pile into big heaps. I let mail and clutter mount up on the dining room table.

I am not a patient person at times. I wish for things to hurry up. I read books so quickly that when they are over I wonder why I read so fast instead of relishing the moments. But it is in the slowly down that the details can really be seen.

I was starved for affection. I knew I loved human contact, but was too scared for a long time to let anyone that close to me. I used to tell people I didn't like being touched so they could never reject my reach. I used to tell people that I didn't mind being alone all the time, but I would hope that someone would walk by and at least say hello. The Boy fills my needs in that department. There are many I love you's, many hugs, kisses, hand holding, and other verbal and physical sentiments that allow me not to lie anymore.

My mind works in mysterious ways. Today I was thinking about dust mites that live in our mattresses and each our dead skins cells. My thought was, How do they get there in the first place? I read that the eyelash mites are spread by facial contact with those who have the bugs in their eyelashes. Nearly 96% of people do.

I am not trying to pretend to be someone I am not. I am being who I always was, but no one ever knew. Now they know. And now I know, too.

Following

2008-06-19T18:30:00.000-05:00

While we waited for the man to find a tire, we wandered around a bit looking at the old cars and thinking it was too bad that neither of us knew how to restore cars because there were some once beautiful cars that could be wonderful once more in the right hands.

When the man had asked if I wanted to go in the house to see the puppies, Eric saw me turn my head towards the living quarters. He later asked if I was actually thinking of going in and I said no, I was just wanting to be polite and show interest. I don't know if this is my Midwestern upbringing or an example of Minnesota nice, but it's a silly thought nonetheless (is that word hyphenated, I couldn't decide).

When the man finally found a tire that fit on our trailer, we paid him, and were oun our way to our free lawn mower it was well past ten o'clock. It was nearly eleven when we arrived at the house to pick it up. We easily pushed it on to the trailer, the man who gave it to us was very nice even at the late hour, and we were excited to see it was small and cute. We started on our way home. Things were swell once more.

Then, about an hour from home, another loud banging noise occurred. The other tire on the trailer blew. We were in the middle of no where, in the middle of the night, and this trailer was going no where. We pulled off the road onto a dirt road and followed that to another dirt drive. It led to a gravel pit and sand pile, which stated that no one should enter without some sort of training. We entered anyway and parked the trailer off to the side. We left it there with a note on the steering wheel saying we'd be back for it tomorrow.

Eric and his mom went back the next day after purchasing a new tire and retrieved our "free" lawn mower. Until yesterday, the mower sat at his parents' house untouched by his mechnic brother. Now, it's been moved to his brother's house where I am assume it is still untouched.

More Adventures to Come!

Rolling on the River

2008-06-18T17:22:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I get antsy and I want excitement in life. But then I remember in what forms excitement can come...

Eric and I went on a little journey one evening. We were going for two hour drive along the country side to pick up a free riding lawn mower. Now, that is correct. It is a free riding lawn mower so who wouldn't go pick it up. We didn't know if it worked or not, but free and fixing should be cheaper than new and working.

Along the way we chatted and life was swell. Then, a tire on the trailer we were pulling blew. I'd never experienced a blown tire before. The noise is incredible and the jerking of the car definitely grabs your attention away from the driving zone. We drove back to the nearest town, not even small enough to be called a hole in the wall. The only thing open in town was, of course, the bar. We called all over the area looking for places that were open and that had the tire size we needed in stock. No such luck.

But then Eureka! A man steps out of the bar and hears our dilemma. He tells us he lives in a junk yard and should have 40 tires like that, well at least 20, and when we finally are in the car with this man in greasy jeans and a dirty sweatshirt, the number dwindles to 15. We swing by the trailer, hitch it back up, and drive on the tire rim for about a mile. However, that mile took us deep into Deliverance country. Well, not quite but the backwoods of Minnesota, at the very least. And I do mean, the very, very back woods.

The man, whose name I never got, did indeed list in the middle of a junkyard. Rusted, half cars all around, a pile of rusty metal just waiting to give us Tetanus, a dead cat, and a trailer house with broken windows, dirty blinds. A place that conjured many visions of horror movies, a blonde girl in a baseball cap running in between the cars, hoping to find safety, only to fall down and find something awful under one of the cars.

The man goes off looking for a tire. He finds tires that are the wrong size. He tries to put them on. They do not fit. The man goes off looking for a tire. The man does not come back for an hour or more. It is getting dark. Eric tells me that he will lock me in the car when darkness hits.

The man tells me I can go into the house if I want to see the Rotweiller puppies. Not until much later, do I realize there is another man in the house. His voice suprises me when he answers the phone. The trailer was so quiet until his tenor voice carried out the broken window.

To be continued.

Time melts

2008-06-11T17:56:00.001-05:00

Ah, hello good blogger folks.

The world has been spinning with greater speed lately on my spot on the world. I swear I was almost flung off this earth once already when the spinning seemed so fast that I didn't know it would ever stop.

Stop it did. Well, the car stopped. The car wasn't spinning, but the alternator died. Eric and I were in Minneapolis which is where he "doctors" (according to my grandma's vernacular) concerning his weight loss surgery. We had two appointments on Friday, but in order to make those appointments we had to rent a car, drive his dying car to the airport, pick up the rental car, make sure his car made it to the mechanic, and then get to his appointments, which we did. We were just an hour late for the first one, oops.

We picked up his car later that afternoon, dropped off the rental car, and pulled over to a park to play with the GPS unit we had borrowed. The car died again. This time it could not be coaxed to life. We called AAA who kindly picked us up, found a mechanic that was open past 5 o'clock on a Friday, and were just generally helpful. So, the car was fixed once more and for the day we were nearly 800 dollars poorer.

Another piece of what you could call machinery was seemingly on the fritz for about two weeks. Eric was experience bouts of dizziness, ligh-headedness, shortness of breath, and weakness. The doctor discovered he had an enlarged heart and after a number of test found out that there is nothing physically wrong with his heart. It is englarged due to his size, but when he exercising it makes him dizzy but he has to lose weight in order to have his weight loss surgery, but... viscious circle.

Our elder puppy, Hurley, is simply the devil. She has taken to tearing up and eating the linoleum in our kitchen, she has chewed on the handles of two of our good knives, she has ruined two dog beds, just last night she chewed through her harness (which I don't even want to know how she put herself into that pretzel position to do what she did), she's chewed a book, eaten plastic bags, etc. She's the devil but she's cute. Alas, I think I'll have to keep her. I just need new kitchen flooring. Anyone want to spring for it?

Spinning Jenny

2008-04-20T13:21:00.000-05:00

Where I live, the snow has finally melted. What is left behind is a dirty, mucky mess topped with dried half-rotted leaves, and garbage blown by the fierce prairie winds that never seem to cease. I too, some days, feel as though I never seem to cease blowing around, being torn in one direction after another.

At work, we were moved back to our old job duties for two weeks and I did not enjoy this step. Thankfully, once they were all caught up, our team was able to return to our normal job duties. This was a welcomed return.

Second, We are torn between food, fuel, and medicine. This economy is cutting us thin, shaving our happy temperments into shreds. The commute is eating our money, the heating oil is eating our money, and we are eating our money. Perhaps someone should be tell those hungry monsters that it's time to stop chomping on the American people. If the Republican government had a backbone or a conscience, they would impose a cap on fuel prices, tax the oil companies for any profits over a certain amount, or something. But no, they stand idly by because they are making more money than ever-records profits for the past few years while the rest of America is falling into record debt.

I read an article about how someone blamed Americans for living beyond their means. I understand this and I agree to some extent. Some people bought houses too big and too expensive for their needs. They wanted the high end life on a middle priced budget. But I think we are living reasonably. I have a seven year old car, and I don't have a remote starter, I don't have power windows or power locks. My boyfriend has a ten years old truck because it's for his business and it's what he fits in. We bought an inexpensive house and skipped buying the stainless steel appliances insteading choosing the cheaper white ones. We have two small puppies who do not wear designer collars or have excess frills. We don't go to the movies, we don't have the internet, we don't have big screen tv's, we don't wear brand name clothing except for tennis shoes, we don't go on vacations, we don't do so many things and still we cannot make it.

It's a struggle month to month. And there is no reason for this except to line some oil man's pockets. I don't understand why cars in America don't have the same fuel efficiency that Europe's cars have had for decades, why we don't have all hybrid cars, why they aren't building more wind farms, solar energy cells, why the government isn't helping us tighten our belts like Jimmy Carter did in the 1970's by putting on a sweater and turning down the heat.

So far, they are just turning up the global warming heat and the heat on America's paychecks which are burning through faster and faster. I do not approve of this message.

Time and Again

2008-04-14T17:13:00.000-05:00

Hey all in Blogger world!

So much to tell, so little space to tell it...

Maybe.

We have another addition to our family. His name is Norris. He is a pure bred Chihuahua raised by The Boy's mom. Norris was part of the last batch of puppies The Boy's mom was having. He weighs a whole four pounds and has lots of fun with his sister Hurley. Though, Hurley does get a little too rough sometimes for such a little guy. He was the only puppy without a home, so The Boy and I adopted him. I think he's good for Hurley who is quite hyperactive. Norris is named after Chuck Norris. After all, a four pound dog needs a tough name.

We now have a full house and are enjoying the puppies quite a bit. My parents met their Grand-Puppies a couple of weekends ago and loved them.

A funny story to tell about them....

The Boy and I enjoyed the wonderful weather outside yesterday. We grilled, took down the storm windows, put up the screens, watched the puppies frolic in the yard, and sat in the sun. Whlie sitting there watching the puppies, I noticed Norris who was not on a leash wander off to the side of the house. When he came back to where I could see him, he had something in his mouth. Norris must have thought it a real treasure since he pranced in front of a leashed Hurley just like a prince flaunting his new pony, just out of her reach. However, Norris's "I have something great and you don't" attitude was too much for him to handle. He had to show it off to Hurley, who promptly stole it from him once Norris was in Hurley's reach. Curiosity finally got the best of me and I went over to where they were playing. The object of their affection and admiration was a turb, yes one of Hurley's dried up winter turds.

I took it away from them and they were no longer the royalty of refuse, they went back to being their old selves.

Welcome to the Family

2008-02-29T12:54:00.000-06:00

Meet Hurley, our new dog. She is a half beagle, half rat terrier cross. She's a cutie and she's already made her way deep into our hearts after only a week of being with us. If Hurley doesn't like us, it's too bad. We love her and she's stuck with us!

It's Chocolate Chip

2008-02-18T18:58:00.000-06:00

I am a slacker.

However, folks. I have come up with a plan. I shall type my entries into word at home, then pop into the library and post a few at a time. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up and catch up with you all.

I miss blogging quite terribly, and I realize how spot on it feels to do it. I feel so freed and invigorated. Not that I usually have anything to blog about. :o) Let's see what's been happening in the past few weeks, or has it been months?

It's been absolutely cold. So frigid that when I have to fill gas, I swear my face falls off. One day someone from out of state asked why I was pumping my own gas. I giggled and smiled, then though... ah, you haven't been here in the winter. NO ONE would want the job of pumping gas in the winter. No one. It's much too cold for that. I mean, come on, I am now faceless. :)

Let's see... my brother is making great leaps and bounds in this world. He's trying new meds, trying therapy, trying regular college, it's amazing. I am so proud and so happy he'd had the chance to experience what such a life can be like.

The Boy and I have puppy fever. We're on hold with this though since were not sure if his mom will give us one of the new puppies or not. I'd just like to know for once and all, to see if we should be loooking elsewhere. But I have been looking online and I am quite enamored with all the lovely dogs I see. So cute!

I broke a fingernail this morning trying to open my frozen car door and it didn't entirely gross me out. This is new. I got a haircut last week and I like it. I think it makes me look like a mature 12 year old, which is an improvement.

I hate the keyboard I am typing on. It has one of those little backspace keys and it's throwing me all off. Not to mention, I use one of the ergonomic keyboards at work and this keyboard is from the dark ages of computers.

I want to talk about trying right now. Not as in "these are trying times," but as in I'll give it a go. I met a man and emailed his wife about how impressed I am that they are giving something a go. This couple has eight biological children, why I don't know. His wife came from a family of 15 and he came from a large family, but not quite that massive. So, they wanted lots of kids to fill the house and recently they agreed to take on two foster kids. They receive no help from the government for their own kids nor will they get any for the two new kids. They will have these kisd for at least six months and may wind up with them forever as their single-parent mom was shipped off to Iraq. Before the mother left, things weren't going very well for her in the first place. However, now they have a happy albiet full home. The only problem is that they are lacking in clothing for the 9 month old girl since she came to them with few items. I did my best to give it a try and round up some items. Between my mother and I we purchased four shirts and two pairs of pants for the girl, and four shirt for the boy. I am ashamed that for all my trying, that is all I received.

However, I see them as an inspiration to give it a go and try something you want, something you know you can make better, make happier.

For now, I want to make a rescued dog better. I'm not read for children yet as I am so much of a child myself.

I still cry when someone else gets the last cookie. Speaking of.... where is my cookie?

Welcome Back, Kotter

2007-12-06T19:04:00.000-06:00

Oh, my blogger friends, how I have missed thee.

I do not have internet access at home and I don't feel safe or comfortable blogging from work. So, here I am at the library, finally having to scratch the itch to blog. I've had so many ideas, so many stories, and thoughts that I've wanted to share, but alas it has not be an option. But perhaps, I shall make more frequent trips to the library until I am once again connected to the cyberworld.

I shall just run down a list of updates in life.

We have the Christmas tree up and decorated, however the rest of the house does not look as put together as the tree. This is unfortunate as we are having a house guest next week for three or four days. This shall be interesting and I will have to remember not to walk around naked, not an image I am sure you all wanted, but it's the truth you crave.

My mom had another back surgery on Monday. She is doing all right and seems to be more lucid post-surgery this time around. Her previous surgery in June left her telling people very interesting things. Let's just hope that this lucidity also brings pain relief and brings her back to walking again.

I have a new job within the company that I was working for, and it has been interesting. There is a team of five of us and we had four days of training. After those few days, we were sent off on our own to work. It's been a little scary and stressful, but I think we're pulling together as a team.

I have so much to report that I don't have anything else t report lest this becomes overwhelming. I hope you are all well and I am sorry I haven't been keeping up on reading your blogs. I dearly miss my DSL.

It's spelled H-O-M-E.

2007-10-20T08:21:00.000-05:00

I'm a homeowner. I'm not quite sure I'm in love with this new title. I'd always dreamed of owning a home, except in my dreams I had ample money to decorate, to fix, add, subtract, and make the house all mine, all the time. If I wanted to switch rugs, curtains, wall color, etc. in my dreams, I did.

In reality, I have water leaking from the washing machine faucet. Both of the actual knobs to turn the water on and off, drip water, no spray water onto the floor. This is both a water hazzard and an electrical shock hazzard. I have a brand new fridge complete with water and ice maker in the door. There is a dent in that door and the water doesn't come out of the fridge. Water goes to the water filter, the copper tubing is freezing cold, but no water comes out of the fridge. I have a ceiling that needs to be painted, a spare bedroom that could use a coat of paint, dusting still left to do, paint to remove from the woodwork, mold to bleach off the window sills, hang blinds and curtain, etc.

Also, we're moving this weekend and we have had the damndest time finding help. The Boy's youngest sister and her boyfriend had offered help, which was a wonderful offer. The boyfriend is huge, 6'8" and strong look- a farm boy. He would have been wonderful with furniture. However, his sister bailed on us. That leave his older sister and her husband who cannot arrive until after 1pm. That leaves us and while I can do my portion of heavy lifting, The Boy has degenerative arthritis in his back, so while he can lift, he pays for it later on.

My parents heard this and my dad heeded the call of duty. He is driving the four hours to come help us move and will drive back the same night. My mom is staying home since she cannpt help lift, no can walk without the aid of a cane or walker. Thank you daddy!

My brother has also offered help for Sunday evening. He is going to our hometown for a wedding this weekend and will be on his way to his new apartment in another state. I hope to put him to work painting since he's earned a living by doing just that before. Maybe he can hang blinds. Some how the handy gene skipped my dad and wound up in my brother.

So, if you're into praying, sending luck, or just thinking of others when they are in need, this would be the weekend to send some good vibes. We're gonna need 'em.

Confusion

2007-10-11T19:08:00.001-05:00

There's been some confusion with the links to the rings I put in my last post. The Boy and I are NOT engaged. He did not propose. We merely picked out rings because he wanted to know what I liked and I found the exact ring I want while we were looking. Because he had a previous fiancee, we have to spend so much money in order to receive the full credit for the original ring he purchased. Thus, we picked out his ring. As to when we're getting engaged, I have no idea. With the expenses of the house coming up, I'm not sure.

It's on.

2007-10-11T07:35:00.000-05:00

While working, just starting a new project, the phone rang. I answered as I always do "Hello, This is Amber." The voice on the other end identified herself as my loan officer at the bank. She provided me with good news. I was approved for the final draft of the loan. The house is mine-ours!

She also was able to lock me in at a lower interest rate than previously thought. It's been a struggle to get here, to be able to say that it looks as if it shall go on as planned tomorrow. That I shall sign my life away and get keys to a house I love. The Boy and I both agreed that our visions of the inside of the house were definitely sugar-coated since we saw it last. We were so in awe that it was such a wonderful house that when we walked through for the final time before the sale, we noticed some work that needs to be done. While so far it seems to be just cosmetic work, we just didn't notice anything in our dream like state the first two times around. However, I hear that's what happens when you're in love. You don't notice the bad habits, the stuff that needs to be worked on.

So, we also bought appliances the other day. We're going to have to remove a cupboard in order to get the fridge to fit in, which we'd probably have to remove a cupboard if we wanted a normal sized fridge in the kitchen period. The height of the cabinet above the spot for the refrigerator would require us to get a very small fridge indeed, small than the one that's currently in my apartment. We say no to that. So, now I'm the proud owner of a new fridge, new stove, and dishwasher. The previous owners took the fridge and range with them, but left us with a broken dishwasher. Yea!

We also headed to the home improvement store last night to pick up paint supplies, rakes, bags, cleaning supplies, a new lock and deadbolt, and other such goodies. The expense of being a homeowner is already taking its toll. Saturday my parents and The Boy's mom are coming up to the house with us to help us clean. It will be the first time my parents meet his, and on the anniverary of the same day that The Boy and I met in real life having had internet and phone conversations prior that.

Also, I got to put on my girl and look at shiny, sparkly things last night. The Boy and I picked out our engagment and wedding rings. He said he was going to choose the one I picked out anyway and wanted to show it to me once at the store. It was great fun looking at all the shiny things and placing them on my hand, well I only tried on two. The second one being it. :) We don't know yet if we can afford the lay away plan, but we'll see in the future what comes our way.

http://www.helzberg.com/hdsim/jsp/catalog.do?product_id=1647891&channelId=-8820&programId=9410

2007-10-04T22:32:00.000-05:00

Updates:

My grandmother's auction went off without a hitch, which was great news. I was there to witness the insanity that she let rule her life. I shall post a photo or two of the building in which the auction was held. It was on the fair grounds in a metal building normally meant to show off 4-H projects, quilts, tractors, and other rural, small town items- things at which one normally wins a blue ribbon. And my grandmother won all the blue ribbons that day. People who'd been to her house of stuff could only comment, "How did she get it all in there." People who had never been there said, "This all came from one house?" But everyone said "Wow" first.

We are eight days from closing on our house. There have been a few glitches along the way. Hopefully, things run smoothly from now on. Dealing with an FHA loan changes everything and makes it all a little more complex. Tips for those planning on purchasing houses soon. But most importantly, find a realtor and banker you like. They'll be with you every step of the way. I am trying to think of a gift for my realtor for all her hard work. I don't think I can send the banker anything but flowers.

I still have not rented out my apartment. I must do this in order to be able to afford the house. I am scared and beyond nervous.

The stuff that was abandoned by their purchasers, the stuff that didn't sell, and the empty boxes filled two large dumpsters. That does not include the last things in the basement the auctioneer said not to bring since we we're out of room and it was junk anyway. That stuff was put on the curb with a free sign.

Because of the leftovers I am now the proud owner of my fourth set of dishes. The Boy has a set of dishes also. We must have dinner parties in order to justify having that many plates. We also have this cute shelf, which I am excited to place somewhere in the house so I can smile when I see it- to know I rescued it from abandonment.

I feel no connection, no sentimental value to the items taken from my grandmother's house. They were chosen because I liked them. There is only one thing I would feel sentimental about and that is the electric organ, which my brother has. I am glad he received it and it stayed in the family.

More to come... but first... photos

What's in it for me?

2007-09-15T10:34:00.000-05:00

Curb Stomp- place the hated person's face onto the curb with the mouth open, ensuring that the top jaw is over the top lip of the curb and the bottom is also placed just so. Hold onto the person's arm in a strange angle behind his or her body, then place a preferably booted foot onto the back of the head and stomp.

I've always enjoyed this image. It was in a movie I saw where a neo-nazi was curb stomped. If anyone deserves to be curb stomped, it's a neo-nazi. Ignorance by choice is hell, surely not bliss. So, this image floats into my mind when I think of my first-ever boyfriend, Will. Why you may ask? For some reason my mind believes I enjoyed this particulary duet of words during the time we dated. If this is actually true, I do not recall.

Why conjur up Will? I came across an email of his the other day. It was so touching. And when I think of how I treated this young man who was enjoying his first forays into the dating world, I know I definitely curb stomped his heart and left him bleeding and broken on the street corner.
I was inexperienced in the dating world also. These new adventures were confusing to me, these new feelings were scary, and I ran away. I ran away to flirt with other boys, to feel sexy, to discover who I was in male eyes that didn't already love me. Unfortunately, I'd have to say it worked. My escape route put me in the path of a man who gave me a great gift, the acceptance of my own body, my physical being that I have always hated.

Andrew gave this gift to me and for that I am thankful because before I hated the vessel in which my mind is carried, not to mention hating the mind at times. So, I dislike parts of my body, but understand what and why I feel this way. My tummy makes clothes look bulging in places that clothes shouldn't buldge, and this paunch makes buying pants difficult since I don't follow women's body rules: My waist either equal to or large than my hips, this equation is just dependent upon how heavy I am at the moment.

Will gave me a view into a new world. Andrew gave me a view into myself. And I gave myself a chance to be myself.

I am me and I shall not be detered in being me, which no one is trying to stop me. Even The Boy who hates some of my clothes, my jewelry, my decorating ideas (who doesn't love puke green?!), my choices of movies, just let's them slip by (except for the puke green-that was tabled real fast) and let's them wash over him. The Boy enjoys this shower of "me" and smiles while it washes, smiles while he seems me being happy to be me. Perhaps, the only shower he did not enjoy was the crying jag I was on the other night because I had stopped taking my medication. However, he held me close, made me promise to take the happy pills the next morning, and just let himself get wet.

Walk this way

2007-09-11T21:11:00.000-05:00

My mother is a woman filled with strength, courage, and determination. When she wants something, she gets it, especially if my dad's involved. ;) I jest. But she's my hero and she's accomplish so many things that I hold in high esteem.

She took off by herself in Washington, DC and strode onto the subway. She found her way to an pro-choice rally and hollered her thoughts out to the world, some time in the 1980's. She joined a union, a nearly all male union, and ran for different positions. She won some and lost some, while feeling the sting of sexism from men who hadn't yet felt the presence of woman in their workplace. Well, felt it they did. She was on the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday Comission to make Martin Luther King, Jr. a legal holiday in our state. More than once she and her fellow members heard the words, "Why would we want that to be a holiday. There aren't any black people here."

Words of ignorance that do not understand that we are all in this together. There is only one planet and one race of people, human beings. That's it and regardless of the distinctions we try to draw between ourselves, we're all from the same stock.

So, my mother has done many more things, accomplish several more goals, and changed lives in very different ways. Now, my mom cannot be a part of those things as she once was nor as she may want to be. As aforementioned in a previous blog, my mother had back surgery at the end of June. That was her third back surgery and what was supposed to be the miracle, the cure.

However, it may have been snake oil, but by no one's fault. She began hurting about two weeks ago. Pain scorches her nerves. Another doctor's visit, another X-ray, and another round of bad news. Her spine has shifted. It is crooked like someone with severe scoliosis and this curveture is causing the nerves to be pinched. She may have to have another surgery which they are hoping to post-pone until December, six months after the last surgery. Four more vertebrae may have to be fused with pins, rods, and cages. They are hoping she can hold out even longer, but the doctor said it was up to her and how much pain she can handle. But right now, it would be too great a risk of infection to open her up again.

It's hard to watch your hero fall and not be able to get up.

It's a hoopdy and a happdy

2007-09-10T21:15:00.000-05:00

Fall is coming. I love and fear fall. Because that's what happens... the leaves drop, the sky descends sooner each day, and my emotions topple over into a basket case of a heap. Then the darkness of winter arrives, days without sun, days without feeling anything above zero degrees, days without hope. Sadness arrives, sadness and claustrophobia.

The snow makes the world smaller in some ways, the driveways and sidewalks lose their widths, the spaces between parking spots shrink, yet the world gets bigger. The piles of snow grow, the streets raise up an inch or two under the packed snow, we reach closer to the ceiling of clouds. Except, I stop reaching. I hold my hands to myself, I hole myself up in my room, and do not wish to live, do not want to talk, and do not want to do anything but sleep.

It feels so bewildering to love a season so much and to loathe it just as much. However, I am filled with dread concerning another matter. The Boy and I found a house we love. After seeing nine other houses, we walked into this one, smiled at each other, and nodded. We knew. You just know. It felt right. It seemed like us. I could imagine my furniture in each room, I could imagine a future in the backyard, a car in the garage, and our mess in the family room. We put an offer in and the sellers counter-offered. We accepted this counter offer.

Banks and lenders had already been visited and papers with stamps of pre-approval followed us joyfully around the area as our realtor showed up prospective properties. We've been to the bank again, things are in motion, and the house shall hopefully be ours.

During this process, there have been days where anxiety spiked and I was jittery with nerves. I told my co-workers what was going on while in training one day, and received an odd reaction from the substitute trainer. "You're buying a house?" Yes, we're buying a house. "Are you married?" No. "But you're buying a house?" Yes, we're buying a house. "But you're not married?" No, we're not married. "But you're buying a house?" Yes. "Isn't that backwards?" Not for us.

Why does she care if we are married? Why does she care if we are buying a house? Why does she think it's backwards? Further, why is she questioning me about it in a room full of people at work using her moral slant?

So, we may be homeowners. Well, I may be. It's only got my name. I looked to hire a lawyer to write up a document and the estimate I received made me want to make this lawyer eat his legal briefs. $175.00 an hour with no estimate of how many hours it would take, plus a retainer fee. I think not. If nothing else, I'll type something up and The Boy and I can sign it in front of a notary public, thus creating a legal document. How binding will that be? Binding enough to allow The Boy to keep his balls. That's what I threaten him with all the time... castration.

Such a fun game!

Sparkles

2007-09-04T21:07:00.000-05:00

I've never been much of a girly girl. I don't wear make-up, I don't wear jewelry 90% of the time, but yet I'm not a complete tom boy. I don't watch sports, I don't know anything about cars, etc. I always felt there was a healthy balance. This weekend that balance tipped and fell over.

The girliness outshined everything. Why did this happen? I went home over the long weekend to visit with my parents while The Boy enjoyed the debauchery of Vegas. I enjoy visiting my parents immensely and usually have a good time while there. This weekend proved that theory correct. However, one activity filled all of my time. I cleaned, sorted, and bagged jewelry. More jewelry that I've ever seen or touched in my entire life put together.

In one day we went through 300 small bags, my mom has used over 700 price labels, the world was spinning with gold, pearls, silver, and rhinestones. It was a glitzy, shiny, sometimes gaudy affair.

My grandmother had a house full of stuff when she died and none of it was organized, sorted, together, etc. It was a hodge podge, a mish-mash of items. Matching earings were in different cases (there were over 15 cases), pins, earings, and necklaces were not stored properly and lost their stones, items tarnished over time, they were tangled, mangled, and unloved. We brought some back to their previous luster, we threw some in the garbage, and my parents have had some repaired to a fabulous state.

During my perusing, I began to covet some pieces. My mother contributed to this desire by saying, "I held this aside so you could see if you liked it and want it." I liked and wanted many pieces and I now have a fine jewelry collection. I earned my "pay" this weekend. I did nothing but work with this jewelry from the time I came home until the time I left. My mother, however, has persevered much longer than I- she's been at it a month already. I think she felt that there was never an end in sight. However, when I spoke with her last, one could finally see the living room floor and the dining room table was becoming a place where people could perchance eat some time.

Tomorrow is a private sale for a few friends of my mom's. Then Friday is a larger private sale and Saturday is the public sale. I just think it's a shame that the 100 plus boxes of dolls aren't worth and most can't be restored to usuable, desireable states. They will remain orphans in boxes tucked away in garages. Alas, sometimes only beauty finds a home.

It's the bated breath

2007-08-21T20:58:00.000-05:00

Some days, when The Boy does something stupid, I have to sit and wonder what the hell is he doing and more specifically what the hell am I doing with him?

Then, Fridays come along and I am reassured that he's the best choice I ever made. As mentioned before, I have bronchitis. It has not yet gone away and on Friday it was torturing me. I could not concentrate, but could only cough. I called it a day at noon and went to The Boy's.

When I walked in the door, he looked at me, and told me to lie down. I did and he covered me with two blankets, still shivering, and stating that I was cold, he piled a third blanket on me and tucked me in. I would have stayed tucked in all afternoon, but alas my intestines were not cooperating that day. I had to get up every 15 to 30 minutes to use the bathroom. However, each time I came back to the couch, he asked how I was, if I needed anything, and made sure all my limbs were clearly covered by blankets.

I "rested" this way until it was time to leave for the appointment with our new realtor. The meeting was brief, but informative. I like her and I think we will retain her as our permanent realtor. After this meeting, which I strugged to pay attention at, we headed to the video store, and the grocery store. When we arrived back at the apartment, he ordered me inside and would not allow me to help carry anything in. He ordered me into my jammies and back on the couch. I listened and tried to insist I could help, but he said I had to rest. He had told the realtor that he was ordered by my mother to make sure I had a restful weekend.

I left that couch only once until I went to bed. Otherwise, he brought me a snack of cottage cheese and crackers. He made me French Toast, which was artfully arranged on a plate around a mug of warmed syrup. He brought me things to drink, he brought me our Monkey, and he let me pick the first movie. He sat in a different seat than usual so he could reach out occasionally and stroke my hand.

I slept for 12 hours that night. And the next day I did very little again. I made no meals, I lifted nothing heavier than a fingernail clipper, and napped. I also cried and being treated so well by someone other than my parents.

I am feeling better. However, if I talk for more than two minutes, I lose my voice. I still cough and my nose is running and needing blowing constantly. I can work now though, but laughing still causes me to wheeze. I want to go back to the gym, but recently I became quite winded walking to the apartment, back to the car, and to the apartment again with nary a hill in sight.

Bugs Bunny's Famous Line Here

2007-08-17T03:52:00.000-05:00

I am a cougher. Deep and throaty. This cough and my nasal congestion led people to tell me to see a doctor. I did after a bit of waiting, but I saw one. I peeked through the door and glanced at a white coat. At least, I'm claiming that was a doctor. Who else would wear unattractive white coats?

Onward, I have acute bronchitis. I emailed The Boy praising myself for having cute illnesses even, that I know I'm adorable, but to have the power to make viruses cute is immense. Wow was all I could say to describe that.

Onward again. I received a nebulizer treatment, my first! It was hard to concentrate on breathing in through my mouth and out through my nose, especially since my nose was a bit stuffy. It's not a snobbish nose or uptight, it's just filled with mucous. Saying the word mucous makes my eyes squinty, sometimes they will even water. So, for twenty minutes I carefully thought "In through the mouth, out through the nose." Deep thoughts indeed. I didn't even realize how tight my chest had felt until after the treatment. It was like I'd taken off a corset and could finally let it all hang lose, needless to say women everywhere know the feeling of letting the girls run wild and free after confinement. It's liberating, not to mention I felt better.

However, that feeling of better, only lasted a short while. I am back to hacking. I cannot sleep. I am supposed to rest, but after five hours of slumber, my body woke me up wanting a drink of something, wanting to use the bathroom, and then when I finally tried to sleep again, the body coughed and coughed making slumber sleep in the other room. Alas, there's only a twin bed in the other room and we both won't fit in it, apparently. Well, okay there are actually two chairs in here, but really does that matter? No.

What matters is that I just discovered that Swanson Pot Pies do not get crispy in the microwave and Banquet Pot Pies do. This is very important information for those of us who like pot pie crusts. I do not care for the filling all that much, but it is the crust that's alluring. My bed is also luring me, but I feel like it's false. Like a man who shows up in fab car, stylish clothes, takes you to a fun restaurant, but then tells you it's a rental car, his friend lent him the clothes, and he had gift certificates for the restaurant that he won at a Comic Book Convention. Disappointment is the feeling and I am feeling it.

My bed is fantastically comfortable, but coughing while lying down hurts, not to mention it shakes the bed, which makes the headboard hit the wall behind it. Bang Bang. Nope, not sex. Nothing nearly as sexy, just bronchitis at work.

It's an uphill battle.

2007-08-15T18:55:00.000-05:00

You know when you're sitting in a quiet office or library with your head filling with information and ideas, trying to sort them all out, and someone keeps coughing, and keeps coughing and all this makes you want to stuff a cotton rag in their mouth and hope they choke on it? I am that cougher. I went to a wedding and as a parting gift received a cold. Thankfully, gifts keep on giving and I've managed to infect The Boy, though he appears to be healing more rapidly than I.

Most of my office is sick, though I don't know if that's my doing or not. Many of them were showing symptons around the same time I started exhibiting the classic signs of a cold. I've consumed three bottles of cold medicine, countless cough drops, and some sore throat lozenges that have only managed to numb my tongue thus far. I am giving up on the so-called throat lozenges; I nearly bit my numby little tongue off. Because of this, this illness I am not enjoying the days of August, the sun, the gym, the anything. I am moping and sullen. I hate being sick but especially in the summer. Not to mention, something is making me poop uncontrollably.

So, I am in fact not a happy camper. No, I am the non-participant, the arms crossed over the chest, glaring, angry camper. Watch out or I'll turn my arts and crafts project into a weapon.

In other news, The Boy and I are looking at buying a house. I am leery about this, but at the same time we are paying too much for us to live apart and we both want to own a home. It's out of town about 45 miles, but not too bad of a drive. We are seeing a realtor on Friday because if nothing else we can find out what we need to do in order to become eligible to buy a home in the near future, say the next one or two years. My dad said there's nothing wrong with looking since it's free and this is true. Although, I'm leery about owning a home with a man I am not married to, not even engaged to. I always thought I was more liberated, more open than that. Turns out when it comes down to it sometimes, I am old-fashioned.

However, I will never lose my last name. I may compromise with hyphenation, but I will not let my name go. I decided that. I also decided that my boyfriend has horrible taste in engagement rings. I mentioned how my trainer at work showed me a ring she liked on-line, it was the very ring that he had given to his ex-fiance, which I think is hideous even if she hadn't touched it. I told The Boy I thought it was ugly and he asked what I do like. I found some things on-line that I thing are pretty and he finds those horrid. We are in complete disagreement. I fear if we cannot agree on small pieces of metal, how can we agree on a home with larger pieces of metal, and wood, and paint, and.... oh so much more.

Whisful Thinking

2007-08-09T18:58:00.000-05:00

This entry all started because I was looking for a recipe for rutabagas. I was unsure of the spelling and it took me a while to find what I was looking for, but when I finally did I was very excited.

I've been wanting to try rutabagas for some time now, but haven't really thought about learning how to prepare them. Well, that is no more. Praise the internet and its vast array of information.
But what this entry is really about is me wanting to do things and doing them. You must all know what's coming next... a list!!! Yes, a list.

I know, I know. I can hear you all saying "But you've already made a list, more than one list. What makes this list different?" Probably nothing. But I like lists and so a list there shall be.
It's not new and improved, because if something is improved that means it's already old, so it would be old and improved. New is something new and this is a new list. Onward.

1. Prepare and eat turnips and rutabagas.
2. Learn to know when a mango is ripe.
3. Figure out how to know which nectarines are mealy and which ones are smooth to the bite.
4. Learn to sew, really and truly sew.
5. Live. That's it. Just simply live.
6. Live more simply.
7. Stop using plastic grocery sacks and switch to canvas totes.
8. Save money.
9. Pay my parents back what I owe them, which is my life, but I am speaking in monetary terms.
10. Have dinner parties.
11. Invite other couples over for Game Night.
12. Spend less time talking about trivial matters
13. Read the news more often, especially that of other countries.
14. Be healthier.
15. Enjoy pajamas more.
16. Start wearing jewelry.
17. Go to the New England states to see the changing of the leaves.
18. Have a gazebo of my own, even if it's just a miniature one for decoration.
19. Control my diabetes.
20. Own more plants and keep them alive.
21. Use coupons.
22. Eat out less.
23. Cook more and enjoy it.
24. Make cookies and share them at work.
25. Wash my car more often.
26. Visit my parents more frequently.
27. Call my grandmother on a regular basis.
28. Make people laugh.
29. Show my true colors, to thine own self be true, dare to be me.
30. Try new things even if they are scary.

2007-08-06T15:33:00.000-05:00

I have traveled half this state this weekend to attend my friend's wedding. I got to put on a beautiful purple dress, have my hair done, have my make-up done, and be as girly as possible. It was a beautiful wedding, the weather was perfect, the early morning clouds cleared up, the sun shone, the setting was lovely, and the bride and groom looked great. Everyone has a great time and the only things that did not make it through the wedding intact and okay were the tuxedo pants. For some reason, three pairs of them became torn through different methods, and one shirt was barfed on. Oh well, at least they were rentals.

However, it is in my travels that I realize the beauty of the state I live in. Each side of the state is completely different, as a person with split personalities, one flat and wide open all the time, and the other craggy, up and down, and jagged all the time.

Here is a photo I took from the East side.

Here's a photo I took from the West side. http://www.flickr.com/photos/36368522@N00/

It's raining things.

2007-07-29T13:47:00.000-05:00

I do not wish to talk of what's going on in life, what I've been up to, or what I am going to do.

I just want to make lists. Well, now I am going to have to talk about what's going on to tell you why I want to make lists. On Thursday I will be leaving for my hometown to be in the wedding of one of my best friends. To me, her engagement was a surprise since she had started dating this young man right after she and her ex-boyfriend went their separate ways. I did not think it would last, but last it will. Seeing them together, my friend and her man, you know that they will make it. They are not the perfect couple without flaws and fights, they are just a couple who wants to continue on this journey together. That's something they knew early on and it's awesome.

So, I am heading to my hometown where I need to make sure I have a plethora of things: The dress, the shoes, the bra with its own boobs, an air mattress of my parents that I have had for too many months now, full-sized sheets for my brother that no longer fit on my new queen sized bed, the notes with my hair and make-up appointment times and addresses, the clothes for the rehearsal (in fact, I have no idea when the rehearsal even is!), clothes for regular days, and so on. And because I know myself, I invevitably forget something, usually pajamas or socks. Forgetting socks this time of year is forgivable and can be overcome with open footwear. Pajamas is a little more difficult especially since I am still sleeping on the couch since my mom is in my old room yet recovering from her back surgery.

So, I am going to make a list to clear my mind, to empty out a part of my brain that nudges me over and over to do something.

1. I want to be a neat-freak, but am too lazy to want to clean all the time.
2. I probably have more dirty clothes than most people have clean and dirty clothes all together.
3. I cut my arm on a carboard box.
4. I think my boyfriend reads this blog and doesn't tell me outright that he does. I don't mind that he reads it, but I'd like to know if he does.
5. I used to edit another blog for his reading consumption, but I gave him the link to this blog once.
6. I love raspberry lemonade.
7. I like ice in my beverages.
8. I prefer fountain pop to any other kind, especially from gas stations.
9. I need to get my car washed. I am afraid of car washes.
10. I know how to use ellipses.
11. My parents are the best.
12. I would like to thank my tia Changa for being a voice of reason at times and for making me want to let out my creativity in new ways.
13. My tongue hurts from being smooshed up against my teeth when I sleep.
14. I need to clean my keyboard.
15. I just mopped the bathroom and kitchen floors. This did not go according to plan. I tipped the bucket of water over in the kitchen. There is now water under the fridge, which is completely different than water under the bridge, though they do rhyme.
16. There's been a mattress in my living room for months now. I hate it.
17. I have had some of the same underwear for at least seven years.
18. I have had a few pairs of socks since 8th grade.
19. I once dated a Mexican boy from California on-line and over the phone. He stopped talking to me one day and stopped answering my calls. I hated him for a long time.
20. My dad thought he was in prison because of the photo that the Mexican boy sent me. It was merely Walmart, which may be just as bad.
21. I like full mouth, tongue in the other's mouths, passionate, try to eat each other kissing.
22. I enjoy kissing for hours at a time.
23. I think the water that comes out of my shower smells like skunk. This disturbs me while I shower and try to become clean.
24. I have a G-spot and The Boy knows how to use it.
25. I hate licorice of any flavor.
26. I've never had my make-up done professionally and I am scared of looking like a harlot.
27. I don't wear make-up so I am used to a naked face.
28. I've had my hair done once and it was an unpleasant experience. The girl was mean because I had very long hair and she didn't know how to do it. I did not request an updo, just requested that something be done.
29. My mom doesn't know how to do hair. I never haid braids as a child.
30. My mom offered to do my make-up for the wedding, however, she tends to do my make-up as she does her own: lots of eye stuff and lipstick.
31. I have eyelashes and my mother doesn't really have any, I have large eyes, and my mom's are small, so it looks weird on me. My lips are naturally a reddy color.
32. I miss living where I used to just because there was more shopping for Big Girls.
33. I am a Big Girl. I get tired of people telling me I don't look that big and that I should be able to fit into clothes from this store and that store and into this size and that size.
34. They are always wrong.
35. I haven't been going to the gym because of a problem I'd been having. I gagged througout the day for no reason, well no reason anyone could find. Breathing hard and straining my neck muscles made it worse. I miss feeling "the burn."
36. I prefer condoms to no condoms.
37. The Boy held a baby at my company event the other night and it was very cute. The baby liked him and was having a great time. All the girls who saw him probably would've jumped him right there. :o)
38. The Boy is charming and cute.
39. I use at least four to five tissues a day for my runny nose.
40. I have a genetic trait that makes our noses run after we eat, no matter what we eat. I also am on a medication whose side effect is a runny nose.
41. I still dislike Sloppy Joe's. I tried one yesterday and hate them.
42. I ate pizza and did not throw up.
43. I am going swimming with The Boy's mom this week.
44. I became a volunteer at the Humane Society yesterday.
45. I like puppies but not kitties.
46. I want to go back to school, but I am not sure for what. I am not sure if Library Science is really my dream or if I wouldn't like something else more.
47. I miss school.
48. I love learning.
49. I am going to find out why Sloppy Joe's are called such.
50. You are loved by me.

Three Strikes and You're Out

2007-07-22T09:21:00.000-05:00

I was on the computer yesterday morning. I was looking for a fun website I'd been to the other day, but didn't remember what it was called. So, I popped open the history folder and began perusing. Because I don't watch tv, mostly because I don't have cable, I spend a lot of time on-line an visit different websites. My boyfriend also uses my computer and visits other websites, so the history was quite full.

I looked and looked for something that jarred my memory. However, something else jarred me. Someone had viewed personal ads on Craigslist, that someone was my boyfriend. He only looked at three of them and according to the color of the links, he replied to none. I confronted him that morning, I asked him why he was looking at personal ads. He said he'd been looking on Craigslist at all the usual stuff he looks at, motorcycles, trailers, free stuff. And then was bored and "decided to see what people wrote on them." I cried and he looked me in the eyes and said I'm all he wants, that he was just bored, that it was nothing.

I still cried. Finally, I stopped crying and told him to make me pancakes. He did and I ate them. Then, I showered. As the hot water hit my skin, my pores opened as did my mind and thoughts came into my head. I need time to think after things happen, after the initial confrontation, and I find the shower the perfect place to do it. I got dressed in the bathroom and came out with a new anger than before.

I asked why he wanted to know what they wrote on their ads. I told him that if he looks at this stuff at my house, how do I know what he finds at work on the internet, I told him that I do not want to get hurt or be taken adventage of again. I've had someone take my generosity for granted and I will not let it happen again. I do not want to look stupid down the road if I were to find out something had ever happened.

He responded with the same explanation as before, that he was bored and just wanted to look. He said why would he look in the nearest "Big City" for a girl if he were going to cheat, why wouldn't he just go out to the bar and find some girl to fuck. I bawled.

And then I let go. Being angry with him won't solve anything. He can't take back what he did. He can't undo it. But I made a decision. He has one more chance to screw up royally, and then he's gone. It's like the law, three chanes and you go away for good. Same for him, three strikes and he goes away for good.

I am not sure we should be together anyway sometimes. We do not want the same kind of life. I do not want children. I don't like their cries, their whines, the wiggling, the giggling, the constant chatter. I do not want them and he does. I want to travel, I want to be active with bike riding, walks, frisbee, golf, and bowling none of which he can do. We have different ideas on the future and I don't know if they mesh.

So, I'm just waiting to see what happens.

It's only me

2007-07-16T20:37:00.001-05:00

I am a solitary creature. I generally do not seek the company of others and wait for them to come to me. I spend the majority of my time in my own little world; at work my headphone drown out the other works in the next cubicles over, at home, I day dream and think in my head where no one else may roam.

And yet, when I picture my life in the future or when I think of what I really want in life, those ideals do not conicide with what I do. I want to have the house where people just drop in for no reason at all and where my rooms are always clean, albeit cluttered, with that lived in look. I want to always have the appropriate snacks on hand and be a joyful hostess to my newly arrived guests. I want to have a spare room for those guests who wish to stay the night or a fortnight. But I do not have this nor do I believe I will, for it goes against my very nature.

It seems that all I want goes against my very nature, which is in fact nature that goes against me. I listened to a book on cd about two young ladies around my age, perhaps a couple of years older, who took off an adventure in Peru. They went to complete humanitarian works, and this has always been my dream.

I was an Americorps VISTA, which is like the Peace Corps, but one serves in the United States rather than abroad. However, I never even left the town I was living in to complete my year of service. And then there is my body itself, which does not produce enough chemicals on its own in so many areas, seratonin, insulin, estrogen, etc. Some days, I can eat very bland food and wind up sick, so I see my dream of being overseas and helping the world, as a farce, a lie I tell myself.

Perhaps, one day I can fill my house with all the friends I will make in the Peace Corps, then as we all laugh sitting around the table playing board games, I will wake up and find myself alone, wanting to escape who I am.

That's making my arms hurt

2007-07-12T20:02:00.001-05:00

So, I love grapes. Cold, round, hard, purple grapes. I can only chew them on one side of my mouth because of the receding gums on the other because the chill of the grapes zings my nerves. Did you know diabetes can contribute to gum disease? As if I didn't have to worry about enough things, now it's gum disease. Diabetes sucks. It's a consuming disease. When I eat something I shouldn't, it's not dieter's guilt or the average I shouldn't have done that and now I'll gain five pouds. No, for me, I wonder if that cookie is the one that will lead to me losing my leg or if that donut will make me blind. Each no-no food can lead to some horror, but some horror I can't resist. Trying to fend off ice-cream cravings doesn't work. I just wind up pacing through the room, thinking "chocolate, rocky road, vanilla with cookies," and on.

An on, we go. I joined a gym. I have a trainer. We created a work out. Now, I just have to do it. Two times this week already. We'll see how the rest of the weeks go. I hope it's something I can keep up. But it's so hard to make myself to there, to make myself walk in the door, and to want to make my body hurt and my lungs wheeze. I must admit, I hate cardio. I like lifting weights. I hate sweating, turning red, and feeling my heart pound like that. It's hideous feeling.

I must speak of other hideous feelings at another time. An office conversation, gone awry.

But I will speak of other feelings, kinky ones. I bought some fun things to wear and try out with The Boy. It should be interesting. A girl at work called me a freak, Andrew called me the freakiest virgin he ever knew, and they are both right. So, let's get it on. Wait, why don't you all get it on with someone else and quit reading this drivel.

Tick Tock Time's Flying By

2007-07-09T19:41:00.000-05:00

Le big sigh.

I am melancholy and dull. My senses feel dulled, nothing feels especially, well especially anything. I have once again reached that aching feeling, where I long to do something spontaneous, something different, and as always I sit here with no ideas springing to mind, no intensely bright light bulbs blinding my brain. I sit here wanting to sleep, wanting to escape the only way I know how, by dreaming, be it day dreaming or sleepy dreaming. However, my day dreams have become non-existant.

I have no drive to do anything in particular, yet I want to do everything. However, when given the chance to do something, I do not wish to participate. What a viscious cycle. How does one ever end it? Is it like a dryer when the towels are warm, inviting, and smelling so fresh, that a buzzer dings. Do you smell fresh, warm, inviting odors and hear a beep in your head? Or is it audible?

Perhaps, I'm listening for the wrong ring. For there have been rings, of the phone that is. And I've ignored them. A friend from an old job, who, I am sure I have deeply offended with my poor correspondence skills. However, isn't that how old friends are? You pick up where you left off, that feeling of apartness never complicating matters? Perhaps friends are the warm towels, ready to comfort you and absorb your large tears while you are down, ready to spread warm shivers through your body when you are already happy, making you appreciate so many things, especially fabric softner. Do friendships have fabric softner? Does something coat our inner selves and make us softer, more friendly to the touch? I do not know.

Right now, all I know is that I wish to be sad and irritated. I want to wallow in this feeling of despair. Yet, I cannot. I think of something my mother said. My dear mother who recently had back surgery- 12 inches of her spine cut open and sealed shut like railroad track, with 37 staples holding her shut. Not to mention the pins and rods holding her spine upright. She is high on pain killers and tells my dad things like, "You need to call the decorator to put the salad on your head," I want fairies on the ceiling," and other entertaining bits.

I helped my mother this weekend and in ways I've done before, two times before to be exact. For this is her third back surgery, and so three times now we've helped put her to bed, I've fed her, helped bathe her, and assisted with any other tasks that arose, but I think the most important task she was concerned about this weekend was making sure my brother tried on some shorts I bought him. And finally, try them on he did and he had to parade into the room to show her. The power of mothers... screw the power of clean, that ain't got nothing on mothers.

What's red, blotchy and, no fun?

2007-07-02T19:16:00.000-05:00

That would be my tummy and then my thighs.

I tried a new diabetic drug. It sounded too good to be true. It's main side effect is weight loss, oh the horrors. I'm a big girl and no matter how accepting of herself a big girl is, somewhere she wants to be thinner, but it's just not worth the struggle. The drug was made from the spit of the gila monster. I was impressed after only a few days. I was hungry every six or seven hours instead of four hours and I ate about half of what I did before. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach since the medication holds the food in your stomach longer, slowing digestion, so the glucose the flows into your blood after eating is steady and a slight drip, not a gush.

I didn't even mind the needles, the sticking myself, I didn't mind any of it. However, I did mind the red, itchy blotches dotting my stomach. Large red spots, some of them nearly the size of a quarter puffed up and itched like the dickens, whatever dickens are. So, I scratched, made them redder and maybe even itchier.

I went to the doctor, we both said it was working so well, so let's try it again. We decided on a new injection site, my thighs. Now, I looked a little strange itching my fat girl tummy, it sticking out, trying to show itself through my shirts. But now, my thighs are itchy and that looks even weirder. I feel like people think I have far roamning crabs or the clap that's moved too far south.

What's funny is that today in the mail I received my free carrying case for my pen injections, a completely useless item now. But I was put another another oral medication, bringing my total to seven different medications a day with a total of eight pills a day. Does anyone want to study me and drug interactions? I would be an excellent candidate.

Speaking of drugs, my mom is on some pretty strong ones after her back surgery on Friday. Six hours of surgery, four of which was just removing scar tissue. This seems to be another family trait. Why aren't any of my family's traits something fun like athletic prowess, musical ability, or artistic skills, no medical oddities. I think we should be on an episose of Mystery Diagnosis and do a special on shitty genetics. Because we have them. My mom is doing well, though she did try to overdose on the pain medication when she was in control of the pain pump. They soon took care of that problem and put her on oral pain killers. Naughty mommy.

I am joining a gym, or thinking of it. I have an appointment tomorrow for my evaluation, which I am not sure what the consists of other then someone telling me I am fat and/or out of shape. This is information I know.

Do you know what else I know? That I am disgustingly in love with The Boy. Some days it just hits me, that feeling, and today it was strong. This doesn't mean I don't want to poke him in the eye a lot or as I said in front of his mom, his two sisters, and his brother that I will punch him in the bunghole.

I shall continue this later.

Long story, unhappy ending

2007-06-24T13:10:00.000-05:00

Last night The Boy and I went to a wedding reception. First we started out by meeting a couple of his friends in the bar of the hotel where the reception was taking place. This was fine. After about an hour or so, we move into the reception hall and found seats near The Boy's sister and other co-workers/friends.

We ate, took silly pictures, they all drank, including The Boy's underage sister (she'll be 21 in two months), and I sat there feeling left out as I normall do at these things. I barely know his friends and most of the time the guys sitting around accusing each other of being gay, of having a dick in their mouth, etc. And it's not very funny after a while, especially since my brother is gay. My brother is a homosexual and I know how much it has hurt him when a group of guys sit around calling each other "faggots" and other things to stop on their masculinity. My brother is probably one of the most masculine men I know. No one would ever suspect. He is not a stereotype.

So, this talk bothers me, but I indulge The Boy because they are his friends and have been performing this ritual, this act long before I came along. I just hope some day they out grow it. I don't see this happening. Also, they drink a lot. I don't really enjoy drinking and even when I was not on a medicine that prevented me from drinking, I rarely took part in it. I don't understand the need to down alcohol, I don't like the feeling it gives me.

The Boy's sister became drunk and beligerant after drinking too many screwdrivers. She made it clear to me that she did not want to talk to me, by stating just that. The Boy left me sitting at the table with his drunk sister and two of his co-workers/friends. I don't know these people very well and when they got up to dance, I felt very lonely. Then his sister went to the bathroom and indeed, I was lonely. I didn't know where The Boy had went, he last mentioned he was going to use the bathroom, which peeing does not take 20 minutes. So, I go in search.

I find him in the bar playing Blackjack with one of his friends. I get on his case for not telling me where he was going. He said, well I told my friend, pointing to the guy sitting next to him. I said, whatever and walked away. I went back into the reception hall, his sister came back, clearly irritated with me, daggers shooting from her eyes and piercing my emotions. The couple was still dancing so I decicded that I was going home. I hadn't driven to the hotel, but The Boy's apartment was a scant three blocks away. I went back to the bar, found him, and announced my intentions. He said, "Sorry. What do you want me to do?" I said nothing, that I just wanted to go home.

I went home, cried, and went to sleep. He showed up around 2:30am. He didn't think I was there, not seeing my car in the parking lot, forgetting we left it at the mall earlier that day. I walked down the stairs to find him dialing my number. We sat together on the couch. We talked, chit-chatted about this and that. Then he told me, "I might have smoked pot tonight."

I lost it. I do not tolerate drug use of any kind. None. He knows I don't like it. I got upset and all he can say is, "I shouldn't have told you." I retorted with you shouldn't have wanted to do it. I cried and yelled at him for about an hour. I went out the door and was ready to walk the 2-3 miles to my car, when he was standing in the window calling for me. I went back in, shaking with angry. I have never shaken with anger, my arms crossed with my fingernails making dents in the soft skin of my inner arm. He said he was sorry, but that it's not like he is an addict, that it was only the second time in his life that he's tried it. I asked why he did it, his answer was the most hideous one he could have given, "Everyone else was doing it." I scoffed and walked away again. Then came back filled with more rage.

I told him why I don't like drugs. That I lived with a drug addict, that I lived with an alcoholic, that I got to have fun at Family Days at rehab, that every Sunday for a year I visited my brother in baby jail because he decided to commit a felony in order to pay off drug dealers. I told him this and said that shouldn't have made a difference in his thinking. I said he shouldn't have wanted to do it. He replied that nothing he said was going to make me not mad, that it already happened, and that there was nothing he could do. I asked how he could do it after he bitched, complained, and moaned about how his ex-fiance used to use marijuana. He said nothing.

Finally, exhuasted, we went to bed. I still love him, but he undermined my trust. He broke something in me. And it will take a long time to repair that injured piece. His nonchalance irks me. I made him promise that as long as he is with me, he'll never do it again.

I am still angry and irritated.

Is it Your Birthday?

2007-06-20T18:28:00.000-05:00

Every day at work, a girl, perhaps she's even a woman, her age is indistinguishable, walks around all the cubicles with a highlighter and a printed sheet of names. She takes attendance. This makes me laugh and it makes me feel like I am in elementary school. I keep waiting for her to ask me if I am having hot or cold lunch. However, she doesn't and most likely won't, which is a good thing. Sometimes, she'll also hand out print out of reports that are run each day.

So, when she came to stand near my desk, and I caught the sight of her out of the corner of my eye, I returned to my computer monitor, barely noticing her presence. She asked, "Is it your birthday?" I had no idea why she said that or if she even said it to me, but then I looked over and a tall carboard box was in her arms. I said, "No." No other words came out my mouth. I was so confused as to why I was receiving a box at work. I thought back and wondered if in a stupor I ordered something from the LTD catalogs that float around between cubicles.

She sets the box on my desk and walks away. I open the box and see green leaves and purple-pink flowers. I pull them out and feel something heavy stay in the bottom of the box. When I reach in further, I pull out a pink and red striped pot. I set the Calla Lilies into the pot and then notice the card. I wonder who they are from, I wonder why they have come.

The card explains how he can't explain his love, the card speaks of love becoming more love, and the card is from The Boy. The flowers are for no reason other than to express his feelings for me. I cry and I try to call The Boy. I can't get a hold of him, so I call my mom instead. My voice thick with happy tears. Later, I get in touch with The Boy and the tears stream again, my voice barely audible as I say, "I love you."

We meet for tacos at lunch and I am able to touch him, to know he's real, and I feel giddy. I kiss him and could continue to do so for hours, months, years.

My mom said she would not mind his as a son-in-law. I tell The Boy this and he mockingly says, "Everyone wants you to marry me." I say back, "And no one wants you to marry me." He replies that he was once there, not married, but supposed to be married. I know this, I tell everyone that it'll be a while before we're ready, before he's ready for that level of commitment again. Everyone else seems to want to rush things, want us to put rings on our fingers, and repeat some vows. But I am already committed to him, I am already his. I believe he is mine. If things are meant to be, shiny marriage markers will adorn our fingers in time but until then, I am enjoying living in sin because I am dirty.

It's a mixture called Life

2007-06-12T19:13:00.000-05:00

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I am tired of spending my days in the bathroom. I should just move my office and my bed into the bathroom. That way I can just sleep right next to and work right by the toilet so that when my bowels decide to evacuate, I will be prepared and ready. I know my bed won't fit in the bathroom, but I could start sleeping in the tub and at work, I don't think there is internet access and that's crucial to my job. So, perhaps that's not such a great idea after all. I may also mention that since it's become so humid I am having trouble breathing, catching my breath. I don't know if it's anything or merely nerves.

Speaking of my natural disposition, which is a little on edge all the time, I recently met someone who felt that right off the bat. I got a haircut today. I do not have a regular stylist and will go to whomever is open. I saw this woman and judged her, and judged wrongly. She seemed old, too old to give me a hip, modern haircut, she was foreign, her accent seemed Easten Block-ish. Of course, all of this was incorrect. She was a lovely lady, while she is older, her mind is sharp, her spirit is vibrant, and she is Croatian. So, while I had parts of it right, I had the best parts of it wrong. She gave a great haircut and was interesting to listen to. So, I stand corrected.

I am now the proud owner of a bra with its own boobs. I purchased a strapless bra today for a wedding I am a bridesmaid in this summer. It is more comfortable than the previous one I owned and seems much more supported. Maybe my old bra just needed boobs of its own. I thought today about how women's clothing would be so much different if we didn't have breats. Think about all the things that are done to shirts to play-up, play down, play with, the breasts. It's interesting to think about how fashion would have evolved, would we dress like men? Would there be a different in male/female tops? Just a thought.

I was thinking the other day about how everyone is either getting married, talking about getting married, or just became married, and I get a little jealous. But mostly, I think I want the shiny metal that goes around my finger. I've never been a jewelry person, nor a materialistic person. I love stuff, weird, kitschy, ugly, things, but rings have never really drawn me in. Now, they are. I want some bling and I don't know who I am.

Stacy and Clinton

2007-06-02T10:28:00.000-05:00

I did not see The Boy last night. I saw one of my best friends instead and another girl I haven't spoken to in a long time. It was fun to be without him, to be the other person I am with the girls. Some people say that you should be who you are around everyone, but each person gets someone a little different, that's just the way things are. I am not the same person I am in front of my parents that I am with The Boy, that I am with a bunch of giggling girls talking about fashion, What Not To Wear, and our lives. It's a different connection, it's a different feeling, and I enjoyed it.

It's been so long since I've spent time with just girls, sitting around with the tv on, commenting on life, throwing out the details of importance and non-importance. It was fun and I hope to do it again soon. I shall be seeing those same girls tonight and we wish one of them a Happy Birthday, which I hope it is indeed.

Currently, I am looking for music online, trying to find something with meaning, with substance, and a sound I like. This is hard and I am not really sure why I am doing this. I no longer listen to music in the car. I strictly listen to books on CD. Each time I enter the car a story plays for me, a story that I recall the last edges of, shimmery edges of excitment, of feeling I didn't want to get out of the car because then the story will end. But I do not bring the tale inside, no. It stays in the car. It is only meant to be heard in bits and pieces, not in long stretches. For I listen to books I would never otherwise read, could never otherwise finish. I would have given up on them in the first few pages, but with a voice slipping from the speakers, the story takes on a lifelike quality... as if a friend is in the car beside me waiting for so she can finish telling her story.

She waits for me. And it's nice. Just like my friend waited for me to ditch The Boy for a night, just like I waited for her to finally have time for a social life, we all wait. And the wait is worth it.

It's memory weekend

2007-05-31T17:52:00.000-05:00

The sun shines, the car heats up, and I ride.

The Boy and I went to the Big City this weekend. We took in some sights of life, of real life in some unsuspecting places. (We went to visit his friends and didn't get a chance to see my friends. I think the next trip we take out there will be to see my pals so he can have the chance to do the meet and greet. )

We drove through rain and beautiful sun. Then on Saturday we enjoyed the sun on our skin, too much sun our on pale skin. From peachy tones to red they went. Dreams in the Mist, Miss Blueberry Juice, and Little Wagon entertained us with their strong muscles, sleek coats, and flying tails and manes. They ran for our delight while we tried to bet which horse would come in first. I was often wrong, but was right a few times. I took that long shot and earned two dollars. Count 'em, two. What a booty to take home. Alas, all I took home was a new hat in order to prevent my head from burning and to be allowed the luxury of not squinting into the sun for hours, the Boy still holding my hand, and a new experience. The horses were not the experience alone. I witnessed love in the bleachers. An older couple, two women, both of whom smoked their lungs that day, like jerky, tough and dry women, who held their arms around each other and spoke of the mundaneness of life. It was not that they were lesbians that was new, it was the way they looked at each other, with adoration, that caught my eye.

Another new experience was the Bon fire we went to late that night. While the bon fire itself was not new, getting lead poisoning from a 50 year old picnic table that was destroyed by karate kicks and a chain saw in the dark of night was new. The early morning trip while driving drunk people to Denny's was not new. However, being the only white people in a room filled with 40-50 Black people was new, especially since many of them lived up to the stereotype of "urban black." Baggy pants, huge t-shirts, sideways hats, the n-word flying fifty miles an hour at each other, the man who blames the African-American manager for being an Uncle Tom because the manager is trying to do his job and force an unruly patron to leave, the belly and booty bearing clothes on the women. The girls were quiet, eating their meals, and talking amongst themselves. It was the men, the boys who called attention to themselves.

We sat silent and soaked it in. My French Toast soaked the sugar free syrup. Perhaps the French Toast absorbed more than syrup, maybe it took on a bad attitude, maybe it carried in it's crevices a negative connection, but whatever that French Toast hid in itself, I threw it up four hours later.

We went home on Sunday. I did not feel well most of the day. A slow nausea wandering around my body, coming to roost here and there as if my elbow would suddenly be on the verge of throwing itself out or my hair desperately wanted a hat in case it had to purge excess oil or something. We stopped by an outlet mall, picked up some clothes for The Boy and a shirt for myself. I will write more at another time.

Baby Bubbles

2007-05-15T20:26:00.000-05:00

'Allo,

Sometimes, I feel otherwordly, maybe in this case other-country-y. I hear myself in an Australian accent in my head. I think I am just trying to make myself feel more exotic than the boring Midwesterner that I am. Accents seem so much more exciting, offering an imagination to those around you. Ah, the excitement, the enticement of lilting languages and drawling diction. I do love illiteration. I think it's marvelous.

I recently made the drive to my grandmother's house again. This time to say goodbye to her things rather than her body. It is a daunting task to clean her house, for it is not a normal house. There used to be paths in the house, things piled to the ceiling, boxes filled with unknown treasures, but mostly unwanted junk. Everything could be used for a part, everything had a purpose to someone. However, logic fails when you have to find that perfect someone in the midst of the nearly seven billion people on the planet.

During this last trip I looked at dolls. As a child, I did not care for dolls and the imaginary play that accompanied them. For me, dolls were boring as they did not do anything. Unfortunately, they still do not do anything. Even more unfortunate, there were boxes upon boxes of them. When I left after a long weekend of peeking into boxes hoping something else would be found in them, there were 50 boxes of dolls. When my father finally finished going through all the dolls, they would total 78.

One would think this would be a child's dream, a doll collector's paradise, and it would have been. However, these dolls were the neglected children of the doll world. Matted hair, pen inked onto their peach bodies, not even done well enough to be considered cruse prison tattooes. Merely, ugly, sad, worn out dolls that one their owners were done abusing them, were left for dead. They were sold for a quarter, they were given away, and my grandmother was the one who scooped them up.

I remember getting these dolls from her when she would visit. She would hand one to me so happily, as if I were getting a grand gift. As soon as she left, my mother would make me throw the doll away and wash my hands. I would gladly dump it into the trash and feel dirty, sullen just touching the one arm I limply hung onto while my grandmother was in sight. A soiled doll, with crusty hair, and eyes that no longer blinked open and shut, just one open and one shut, a nightmare of a doll for a gift is something I did not understand.

These dolls are something I still do not understand. I don't know why my grandma would be so interested in keeping these, in buying them, and then throwing them into boxes. If she were wanting to love one, wanting to relive her own harsh childhood in which she had no doll, I do not know where these come into play. I merely know that they do not come into play with me, they did not then and do not now.

This daunting task haunts us. We wonder why she kept these things, not just the dolls, but other things. We wonder so many things and in these boxes, these piles we do not find answers. Just dust and someone else's memories.

I fail

2007-05-12T11:56:00.000-05:00

This blog so often is a review of how often I fail at trying to better myself. Once again, I had started skipping my medication. I became a crying, sad-eyed, pathetic sack of life. I didn't laugh, everything hurt my feelings, I wasn't fun, but through that The Boy stood by me. He said it'll take a lot more than that to drive him away. Odd, Andrew was the complete opposite. I drove him away with that, however, that result was entirely appreciated. The Boy is my love. Andrew was but a mere stepping stone to get me to the point where I could meet and fall for The Boy.

Opposites indeed. Another opposite occured this week. I went to the doctor to have my diabetes checked. I again informed my physician (yet another new one albeit in a new town) that I a naughty, eating things I should not, not testing my blood, not taking my medicines, not caring for myself the way I should. She admonished me as she is supposed to and we moved on. My period was late and I thought nothing of it. A week late is nothing to me, well, it wasn't before I started having sex. Now, I suppose it should be a concern. However, when I informed her of the date of my last period, she proposed a pregnancy test. I agreed to one, just to be sure.

My period has been absenst for four months at a time before. If I am in any way stressed more than normal, I will be late or miss it entirely. If I am sick, it will be late. I was stressed towards the end of April, with the death of my grandmother and trying to clean her house out. More on that later. So, I peed in the cup, which I had to do anyway for the diabetic check. I went back to the office and sat there waiting for the results. I wasn't scared or nervous. I guess I figured I'd have to handle it one way or the other. I would have no other options but to deal with it if the test came back positive. So, I waited and twiddled my thumbs while pretending to read a magazine.

The nurse came in and gave a brisk smile, she whispered "Negative" and said I could go back to the lobby to make my follow-up appointments with the nutrionist and the diabetic educator. I left feeling fine, no different than I felt before the results were given. No huge sigh of relief, nor no sad feelings that I wasn't. Just neutral. Then, I started my period about three hours later.

I feel that irony and if it's not, it's sure something.

Guesstimator

2007-04-29T12:58:00.000-05:00

My grandmother died on April 21st. I went to her funeral on Wednesday and said goodbye to a body, to a woman I didn't really know.

I sat at the funeral home, staring at her casket during the viewing/visitation on Tuesday thinking about what I would miss about her. My views were so negative. I felt she was this stubbon old woman who loved her junk more than anything else. She had strong opinions about the world, politics, and sometimes those views were incorrect. Opinions can be wrong when they are not based on fact, but on unobjective, false "facts." However, I wasn't viewing her in the right context. My grandmother had some money, not enough to make her a millionaire or even a hundred-thousand-aire, but enough that when people came to visit, she paid for meals out. We always went out while there. If one of her children or grandchildren needed to borrow money, she would whip out her checkbook and fill in those blanks. And while she expected payment of that loan, she had a long grace period and no interest.

I didn't see genorosity where I should have. I didn't see a woman who had a tough life and just wanted to leave something for her children to make their lives easier. She was undemanding, her only desire to choose where we went out to eat. She had friends, whom I saw at her funeral. I never met them before, and one in particular surprised me.

My mother requested that at the fellowship, I take pictures of those in attendance. It is very hard to get all those people together, espectially together while they are looking dapper. I felt very southern, having been to a southern funeral where they photograph at the funeral home, the casket, the body, etc. Very different from our version of, let's hold the tears in, let's not show emotion, and certainly do not take pictures. But we deviated. I stood poised for a photo of an older woman, white hair spikey on her head. She smiled for me and then said, you must be Amber. I said, yes and asked how she knew. She said that my grandmother talked about me all the time. I stood surprised, mouth open, and eyebrows raised. She gave a small smirk and said, you must not have known your grandmother very well.

I will be the first to admit, that I did not. I tried. She would not open up to me nor to anyone I knew. There were secrets in her that she was not willing to share and I do not know why. I don't know if it was just a generational thing, if she just didn't like talking about herself, or if she really thought those secrets would be damaging. The white haired woman with the spikes grinned bigger stating that my grandmother had told her that I was mischievous. I inquired as to why my grandmother would say that, the woman just smiled. I told my parents this information and my dad was quite confused and had no idea what his mother would have meant by that; my mom was baffled also. Perhaps, my grandmother didn't know me very well either. The road goes both ways.

I am not mischeivous nor have I ever been. My parents lucked out on getting me as a child, especially after having to deal with my brother's antics. I did well in school, did not have to be prompted to do my homework, I did not drink in high school, did not have sex until a few months ago, did not get into trouble, etc. My downfall as a child was that I was mouthy, which may have caused some headaches due to my high level decibels of yelling, were nothing compared to what my brother brought on.

So, I shall miss my grandma. She had this cackling laugh that drove me nuts. She told me to be a "Good Doobie," and I have no idea what that means, she had a house full of junk, and loved coffee with great passion. Her last words were "I would like a cup of coffee." Now, that's a fan starbucks needed in their corner. So, grandma, my next cup of coffee (I will have to add cream and sugar substitute, sorry) will be for you, for your honor. I will sip and think of you. I will stir my coffee and remember the short moments I had with you. When I pour the cream, it shall disburse in the liquid, forming an outline of your face and this is when I shall weep.

RIP Grandma Doris

Toss Up

2007-04-17T19:17:00.000-05:00

This is going to be a grab bag entry, you don't know what's going to be inside. Scary part is, neither do I.

Let's see, what there is to share.

I nearly bounced some checks, which I've never done before. Hopefully I learned my lesson.

I nearly lost my camera in a dance club. Correction, I did lose my camera in a dance club and after crying for about fifteen minutes, having a mini pep talk with The Boy, and moping, it was annouced by the DJ that a camera had been found. A member of our group walked up to the DJ booth and heard some other guy claim the camera was his. Our friend knew the DJ so she passed the camera to him, which if it came down to it, the pictures on there would prove whose camera it was.

I drank a lot over Easter. I tried to keep up with former Frat boys and I think I held my own. It was a fun Easter since The Boy and I went to the BIG City to visit some of his old friends. They are great people.

The Boy and I broke my box spring while gettin' it on. So, when my tax return finally appears I shall be buying a new bed. I am not sure yet if it was worth it. ;)

My paternal grandmother had a massive stroke this weekend and according to the CT scan, she's basically brain dead. My dad and his siblings are going to have to decide whether or not they wish to keep her alive by artificial means. I believe they will choose not to make her body live on when her spirit is already gone. They seem to be leaning towards that. There is talk of me being a pallbearer. My mom keeps wondering if it's okay for a woman to be one. I keep telling her there's no reason I can't be one and the only reason men are usually pallbearers is because they can usually lift more weight. I would like to be one. It would feel right doing something for her.

Another note, all of my friends from afar should come visit me. :)

Work is interesting and keep challenging me each day.

Too Long

2007-04-12T20:11:00.000-05:00

Well, I am finally back in my chair and writing again. I have missed it so much.

But my moving plans did not go according to... well, plan. The weather pushed back the move three weeks, leaving me without my computer and internet access for another month. Ugh. So, I have you, my dear readers, haven't abandoned me for more frequent and interesting places.

I am back now, hopefully for many, many posts.

The move went well. I had help from around the world. Or from two states. :) My cousin, her boyfriend, two uncles, my dad, my mom, and my boyfriend all heeded the call for help. It went quickly, much more quickly than expected. Unexpected, was the sheer amount of stuff, of things I have collected in so few years. It's disgusting. However, I seem to be only getting more. My parents, specifically my mom bought me a new set of dishes even though I don't cook very often and I have a complete set already. Oh well, they are pretty. :)

I haven't moved all my stuff in, some of it is still at The Boy's, but slowly it will make it's way over. By the end of this month I want it all in, put away, pictures hung, shelves holding little knicknacks, etc.

My apartment is very similar in its layout to my old apartment so I feel quite at home and relaxed in this one. I am enjoying my new job, though I feel completely and utterly stupid sometimes. They are just so many little rules, little tidbits of information, policies to follow. It's complex and complicated, and some days my head hurts when I shut off my computer and walk out the door to work.

I do want a second job. I have this intense desire to sell furniture. I love furniture and why not sell it. I've never had a sales job before and the extra money would be nice. There's an opening at a store right near where I currently work and live, so tomorrow I may stop in and ask about the position.

Well, this is GOA signing off until my next entry which I suspect will be real soon.

Why do I do these things?

2007-02-13T11:15:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I do not have any excuses for myself. I cannot conjure up those words that will make me feel better for being a failure. I had an appointment this morning at 10am, of which I was instructed to be there thirty minutes prior. I set my alarm, alas, I only set one alarm. I don't get off work until 11:30 and didn't make it home until midnight. I am usually wound up from work and cannot jump into the bed the minute I walk in the door. So, I stayed awake and puttered around. I packed a few things, I ate some dinner, I worked on some word puzzles, I played online, and finally felt the tuggings of sleep in my eyelids.

I laid down. I wiggled. I turned my head, I cocooned in the blankets as I so love to do, and nothing. Sleep hid from me, it tortured me by calling my name and telling me how sweet it would be. But alas, it did not show itself to me. Finally, sleep must have come out from hiding. I woke up at 10am, just in time for my appointment. But because arriving a half hour before the appointment was so stressed, I called to wonder if I should still go. The clerk told me that I should not go there, that I should reschedule. Damn.

I tried to reschedule, but nothing worked. I am moving in a week and will be living an hour away with a not-quite permanent work schedule. Thus, this cancelled all of my appointments for the day, the endocrinologist, the diabetic educator, and the nutritionist. So, I called my regular physician to leave her the message that I missed that appointment and I could not get into see the endocrinologist until next week, which doesn't work for me. I called my aunt, who is also a doctor in The Boy's town, to ask her for a recommendation for a regular physician and an endo doctor. We'll see how it all pans out.

I am lame. Sleeping too late made me cry and I felt so much shame. I am scared The Boy will be so disappointed in me. I am disappointed in me.

I also keep having dreams I cannot breathe. Today, I actually can't. I am so stuffed up and coughy. I called in sick. I no longer care what they think. I need some rest before Monday, a chance to get well so I can think and learn new things. So, I can start my new life fresh.

It's Girl of Approval, signing off and screwing up.

Apartment II

2007-02-07T12:39:00.000-06:00

Because I was already in town viewing apartments, I figured it would be a good time to visit The Boy. We went to lunch and it was fun. I was so giddy about my new place. I couldn't sit still. I was bouncing in my chair.

Afterwards, I went to visit my old college roommie and I had so much fun just chilling with her while we glanced at the tv now and again. She just gets me and makes me laugh. :) When I finally showed up at The Boy's place, he said he was getting worried but that he knew I was at her house and thought that if I didn't come home by 11:30pm, he would go looking for me. Awww, sweet. :) He cares.

I am not sure how to say this. I don't know if I want to make it elaborate or just lay it out there on the table and say it. I am leaning towards the latter. I lost my virginity that night. It wasn't the greatest moment. It was quick, slightly painful, and nice. We were safe and protected. And I'm glad I waited and glad that it wasn't a big production. Just a spur of the moment, let's do it kind of thing. I think if there had been a lot of drama with it, I would have been disappointed. But the way it was.... was nice.

Apartment

2007-02-07T12:27:00.000-06:00

I am an internet junkie. If I can find it online, I'll be there looking for it. I found an apartment management company in The Boy's town and applied for some apartments online. I had Monday off and had planned on spending it doing laundry, but the management company called and said that they had some apartments to show me and when could I see them. So, I dashed off to The Boy's town and saw some ugly apartments for expensive amounts. Well, expensive to this area. We make people in other parts of the country scream with envy when they hear our apartment rents. Thus, I am spoiled.

However, the first two apartments I saw were cringe worthy. Torn, dirty carpet, metal closet doors (this is the weirdest phenomena I've seen in The Boy's town), gold appliances. I cannot have gold appliances. I developed a phobia when I lived with my roommate in our first apartment. We had two gold fridges, both of which had mildew growing on the inside of the fridge where the motor, coolant machinery is. And it made our food taste awful, it made us sick, and to this day I remember the smell. The smell still makes me gag. It was thankfully winter when this problem started occurring and we could store our food outside on the patio area. So, they were totally horrible apartments and they require the tennant to pay heat, electricity, and hot water. Hot water?!!! What kind of crazies are they?

So, I had a list of other apartment addresses I just wanted to do drive-by's on to see what they looked like on the outside since I am not completely familiar with this town. I wound up having to pee and decided that I'd get a paper while I was at a gas station. This proved to be the greatest choice. I got the paper, circled a few promising ads, and with the knowledge that my dad told me "I'd rather have you in a nicer apartment than a shabby one and have us subsidize your for longer," I moved my price range up. It pays to be Daddy's little girl. :)

So, I called and a man answered. He was actually at the building I wanted to see. I met him there, we went in and I saw new carpet, wooden closet doors, white appliances, heat and hot water are paid, there is a garage, I saw a microwave above the stove, the bathroom was all white, and I said I want it. He said okay, let's fill out paperwork and get your credit check started. By the end of the night, I paid my deposit and now I have a cute, two-bed room apartment that I like. So, yea!

I think once I am all moved in I shall have a house warming party.

Move that ass

2007-01-30T13:35:00.000-06:00

I learned new words this weekend: Mixer, amp, light board, mini disc, and while I had heard them before I learned what they do. I went with The Boy to his work Christmas Party where he was djing. I have no idea how to mix the sounds together, no idea how to choose the next song, how to layer the sounds, no clue. But I had fun watching him do his thing. He sounded so confident on the microphone, no waiver in his voice, no feed back from the mic, nothing but pure tenor. He has a great voice. I love listening to him talk.

So, I sat with him while he worked. I helped set up and take down. I'm a good helper. I assisted in handing out the prizes when names were called and people came up for their large gifts. I picked out a prize when The Boy won something from the prize table filled with little gifts. And I melted on the dance floor. It was nearing the end of the evening. The crowd had left, leaving only a few stragglers. I leaned over to his ear and said, "The next song you play should be a slow song and you should dance with me." He poked through his music, found a song, and reached for my hand. He turned the lights down low, casting a beautiful glow on us. We stood on the dance floor, bodies together, and swayed to the music. The DJ doesn't dance but he does dance with me. :) I melted while he sang to me, I melted while he looked at me in the eyes, and I melted while I held my hands around his neck trying to hold myself up. Of course, he is a boy and had to add something perverse into the song. Right at the end of the song, Make You Feel My Love by Garth Brooks, the line is to Make you feel my love, The Boy sang "To make you feel my penis." I laughed and the moment broke, leaving me with a glorious feeling and a slap for The Boy.

The Boy showed me where he is going to live from now on. He moved to town, which is nice since now it won't be such a chore to drive to town and then back to his rental house in the country. But I will miss the scenary, the quiet, and the house itself. It has memories for me now. But we can make new memories at his new apartment. And at my new apartment.

I received a phone call today from one of the jobs I interviewed for on Thursday. I was offered the position and it is more money, there are chances for advancement, the benefits are free, and it's in The Boy's town. So, I accepted the position after speaking with The Boy and my father. I am excited about being in the same town with him and my ex-roommie!!!! :) I met up with her last Thursday after my interviews and had so much fun talking to her about girl things, such as shoes, how her teaching is going, her wedding, how she is the prom advisor at school this year, and other things. I miss having that girl in my life on a daily basis and it will be nice to see her more often.

I accepted the position, called my apartment complex to find how many days notice I must give, and I called The Men in my life. I will miss living in this town. I've been here since 1999 off and on. I call it home and I shall miss the comfort of it. I wonder if I will feel the same about The Boy's town in time. I wonder if I will find that acceptance I feel here. Or maybe, I am just accepting myself more than anything else. Now, I must find an apartment there. I do not want to live with The Boy quite yet. There is plenty of time for that later. I must get my life on track. I must...live for me.

I am scared. I am nervous. I am excited. I am ready.

A bunch of stuff in a row

2007-01-23T12:28:00.000-06:00

I wrote an entry last night and it didn't post for some reason. I am most upset. I don't know where it went but I cannot find it. Alas, I cannot recall all I wrote.

I have two job interviews in The Boy's town on Thursday. One of them would be a substantial increase in pay so I would move there for that one. But the other one is for about what I am making now, if not less. So, I would probably not take that one, but it's nice to get my name out there in case I apply at the same company later. We'll see.

I hate January. I think it's the worst month. It's depressing to me. The sun shines falsely. It's bright, clear skied, and cold. It should be warm like spring sunshine that fills you with hope, that makes your whole body feel radiant. Also, because of the new year, I tend to wonder about the progress I've made in life and it depresses me that I feel I've never come very far. Sigh.

I don't know what I'm doing with my life and I always question if I am doing the right thing, but in the end do we know? We can only go with one option most of the time and making decisions is hard for me.

UHaul

2007-01-22T01:03:00.000-06:00

I am considering and attempting to move to the town in which The Boy lives. Some may consider this silly, but I have no real attachments to this town other than my grandparents live here. However, The Boy's town is only an hour's drive away. The friends I used to spend time with here have all found their own lives not including me or they moved away. My ex-roommate from college lives in the same town as The Boy and so I would have a built-in friend, whom I very much miss the company of- she and I could laugh about the silliest things. Especially, things that occurred late at night and included making models of toilets. Boufanana.

I have applied for some jobs up there and have received interest from three people thus far. Rent is more expensive where The Boy lives and I will have to downsize my apartment from a two bedroom to a one bedroom. The Boy did ask me if I would move into with him, but after considering it, I decided that it's too soon. I am not ready to make such a commitment. I love him, but that's a level I've never been to and it's one he just got out of not even a year ago. In May of 2006, he was supposed to get married and the wedding did not happen. I think we both need time to live alone but in the same town so we can see what it's like to have a more "casual" relationship, in that we don't have to plan so carefully when we are going to see each other again. We don't have to concentrate our visits with each other like we do now because sometimes a week to a week and a half will separate our time together. Also, his finances are a disaster and I'm not ready to shoulder any responsibility that may come my way because I chose to live with him. Not yet anyway.

I love him. I think he's great and I have a lot of fun with him. So, I think we should take it slow and ease into everything. We have plenty of time to enjoy each other's company should we choose to do so. If I do move there, I will be immensely sad to leave my apartment. I loved swimming in the pool on hot days while no one else was there. I loved the layout, I loved the rooms, and the character of it. It just felt like home more than any other place I've lived since leaving my parents. My mom is supportive of my moving to be closer to The Boy, but agrees that I shouldn't get into this without thinking.

I am also a loner. I spent a great deal of time alone and enjoy it. So, I fear moving in with someone on the idea that they would be there most of the time, especially since I've had two years of living alone under my belt. It changes you.

We'll see what happens... for I know not the future and know not what it may bring.

It's the people not the work

2007-01-13T07:27:00.000-06:00

At work, I wear a hairnet. It's quite lovely and blue. It's different looking from your usual hairnet, but nonetheless it does the same duty: keep hair out of things. When I went into an area where we clean equipment, I put on another kind of hairnet. However, when I left both hairnets came off at the same time and into the garbage they went. I went to the locker room to retrieve some money and run off to the cafeteria for a snack, but before I made it to my locker a co-worker stopped me to ask how The Boy's wisdom tooth extration went. I was filling her in on the details, the grossest of which is that when the dentist pulled one of his wisdom teeth, he said it was the longest root he'd ever seen. Now, when the boy breathes though his mouth you can hear air rush into his sinuses, which is how far the root went up into his mouth. It is the more horrible sound, but I keep asking him to do it.

While we are chatting, one of our area's Leads walks into the locker room and berates me for not wearing a hairnet, which I was about to retrieve from the shelf anyway. I make a face or something and she tells me to step into her office when I am through in there. So much for that snack. We finish chatting and I walk into the office where she states that she's not trying to pick on me but that we have to wear the hairnets and if our hair touches our scrubs we have to change our shirts.

This rule is ludicrous. We put on our scrubs in the locker room and don't put the hairnet on until we are in the lobby area of our department. We don our scrubs and our hair touches them when we put them on. Oy. So, we discuss that for a moment and then she asks if everything is okay, mean while another lead stares on. She said that I seem different from when I first started, that I seem less enthusiastic, less peppy, etc. She asked if I wanted a different shift or if I had a problem with the one I was working now. I said no, that I enjoyed my shift. I did mention that I was bored with the job. She said that there's always something to do and I inserted that it's not mentally stimulating work. She said that's the nature of the job and I kept my mouth shut.

The things I didn't say were that I do think the job is boring, but more importantly I used to think I could make a difference there, that I could make some positive changes. And when I figured out that nothing was going to change, that status quo would remain in place, I became cynical. I don't like my job and I am always looking for a new one. I started applying for jobs in the town which The Boy lives, about an hour north of where I currently live. I don't want to work in CSPD forever. It's a stopping point, nothing more. Something to pay the bills. And if they don't realize that, if they don't realize that we hate their managerial skills, of which they have none, they need a wake up call.

We had a staff meeting on Wednesday. I brought up one of the policies they follow to a T, which is the occurrence policy. If you arrive to work later than 29 minutes, you receive an occurrence. If you call in sick or use any Unplanned Paid Time Off, you receive an occurrence. The occurrences stay on your record for a rolling year. If you get on in April of 2007, it won't drop off until April of 2008. One you reach eight occurrences, you are fired. I commented on the unfairness of this policy.

The head manager stated that this is the policy set forth by HR throughout the company. I said that I read in the policy mannual that it is up to the discretion of the department manager to decide what is an occurrence and what is not. She said that she's brought it up to HR before and they state that the occurrence policy must be followed. However, this is a lie. She is passing the buck off onto someone else because she is too afraid to take responsibility for any of her choices. She can choose what is an occurrence, she can choose who she fires and does not. She does not need to blanket everyone with the same rooms for fear she'll be accussed of favoritism. Obviously, she needs a dictionary and some help with the definitions of discretion and favoritism, which I might add she participates in anyway.

She said in the meeting, "We have a high turn-over rate and some of those people quite because of the occurrence policy." Hmmm, duh. Think we need to revamp that policy? Also, she stated that this policy is equivalent to having 7 days of vacation per year, which if you're sick what kind of vacation is that? And she said that she's biased because she doesn't have kids nor does she get sick very often. She asked, "Well, you don't plan on getting sick eight times a year do you?" Ah ha! That's where she's wrong. It's only seven times the first year, after that it's however many you have on your rolling calendar. Also, what about those with kids? Children get sick and someone has to stay home with them, to be punished for that is inconceivable, especially since we all work in a hospital. What about those of us with poor immune systems? We get sick. No, we don't plan on it. It just happens. Again, we work in a hospital and our surrounded by germs.

And if we try coming to work with a communicable disease/infection like pink eye, strep, etc we are sent home with an occurrence.

Where's the justice in that? I would love to try and unionize that job, but I don't know how to go about doing it. But having some power behind us, having some weight and leverage would have to help. I'd get fired, but what the hell... making a difference in a cynical way could be a dream come true.

It's about Time

2007-01-08T20:22:00.000-06:00

Christmas with my family went well. I arrived on Saturday afternoon and enjoyed a nap soon thereafter. My parents call their home and its tendency to make people want to take naps, "Sleepy House Syndrome." They've wondered whether there is too much carbon dioxide or some other toxic leeching into the air or walls, but nothing registers when tests are done. But you walk into the house and want to take a nap. Then we went out for our Christmas Chinese food dinner. People seem to think it's weird that we eat Chinese food at Christmas, but that's our tradition.

It happened one night when I was younger. We were driving home from my grandmother's house on Christmas Day when a snow storm turned into a blizzard not allowing us to venture all the way home. We stopped in a smaller town and tried to find some place to eat. The only restaurant in the whole town that was open was a Chinese food place. Thus, a tradition was born.

Also, on Christmas we see a movie. It doesn't have to be exactly on Christmas Day but a few days before hand will also suffice. It's a nice bonding experience, especially when my brother chooses to join us. That doesn't always happen, though like this Christmas he was only around for gift opening time. Although, I must give him credit he did watch a movie with my mom and me after we opened presents. My dad has a weird aversion to watching tapes or DVD's. I don't quite know the reasoning behind it. He'll watch movie chanels on cable, he goes to movies, but as soon as one in the form of a tape or DVD appears, he bows out.

I enjoyed spending time with my family. It's something I don't get to do often enough. Today I visited my grandmother and grandfather who live mere twenty minutes from me, and whom I don't see as much as one would think. However, by the time dinner was over and Wheel of Fortune was ending, my grandmother was nodding off and my grandfather had left the kitchen in search of some sports on tv. But it was enjoyable nonetheless.

I have nothing more to say other than family is one of the greatest things in the world, that is if you have a good one. And if you weren't born into a good one, create a great one of your own. It can be made of friends, a lover, a spouse, a child, but your family does not have to be blood.

I hope your family is well today and everyday in the future.

A greeting and a reason

2007-01-06T02:32:00.000-06:00

Before Christmas arrived, I called Andrew to wish him a Merry Christmas and to see how he was doing. It had been almost three months since he and I had spoken, all previous contact since we broke up was because of my efforts. I know he is not close to his family and I thought that he'd be alone for the holidays and I wanted him to know that someone was thinking of him. He seemed happy to hear from me and yet he was also so sad. He did nothing but bring me down. Nothing has changed in his life because he does not want anything to change. I think he fears being happy and finding something new in life than he does staying in that state of depression. I only speak from the outside, not the inside. I don't know if this is true.

We went through the pleasantries, the how are you's, the what are you up to's... he is not doing well mentally. He missed a few of his appointments with his therapist and wound up with some people from the city/state coming to his apartment to see if he was all right. He works a lot and had no plans for Christmas Day except that he may have to work. I inquired about his health, his happiness, and he asked me about my car.

I sighed and realized why we were never a good match. Two depressed people can often bring each other down. There's not a stronger person to lean on when things are looking down. You'll both lean so hard that you'll push each other even further below that line of horror, of hell. Plus, he was what I lusted after. I recall spending time with him wondering when we were going to move onto the physical aspect of our relationship whereas with The Boy, I enjoy talking to him, enjoy seeing him and engaging in other activities. And so I learn.

I mentioned The Boy in passing to Andrew while talking about some art I received for Christmas. It's a very large picture and I need someone else to help me hang it not to mention that we're going to have to put the picture into a stud or use some anchors if we can't find studs. I called him The Boy and Andrew became confused at the mention of this term. When I advised Andrew that I have a boyfriend, Andrew promptly said that he should let me go.

I was saddened by our chat in that I had hoped we could be friends. But we can't. We just aren't good for each other. I also remember something he said to me one of the last times I saw him in personl. I told him I was researching schools and this time I was determined to go. Andrew's next words stomped on my heart and my dreams. He said that in 15 years I'll still be here and won't have gone to school. A true friend, no matter how unlikely the possiblilty of someone's dream, does not make such statements. A piece of my heart turned black and fell off. I wanted to throw that rotted, hard piece of myself at him and give him a black eye.

However, I decided that Andrew wasn't worth a piece of my heart. I grabbed it back, cleaned it off, soaked it in some water, and put it back into the space it belongs. Now, it's growing green and new.

It's a wonder night

2006-12-20T13:07:00.000-06:00

I went to Walmart last night, which was my first no no. But I was feeling antsy and I wanted a hands free head set for my cordless phone since I talked to The Boy so much. It's hard to get anything done while I'm holding the phone. Plus, I wanted to pick up his "Santa" gifts. When I asked him what he wanted for Christmas he said he wanted a new car, which I can't afford and he was being silly. So, I bought him a Matchbox Volvo SUV. It's cute and red. I also bought him a new battery-operated toothbrush, a cribbage board, and some gum. I am going to put all this stuff in the stocking that we hung up at his house.

I also purchased some Macaroni and Cheese from the greatest Mac and Cheese makers ever-Kraft. I bought the organic variety because I want to see if it tastes any different from the regular. So, up to the register I go at 3:30am and the boy at the counter looks a little odd, but then again who works at Walmart at 3am and is normal? So, I wait my turn and he checks out all my purchases, and comments on my organic Mac and Cheese. "Organic, huh? I didn't know they made organic." I say that they do, obviously, they do. You're holding the box. I don't say that though, just think it. Then he ponders more, "Wait, how can they make organic, aren't noodles processed?" I say that noodles are processed but its about how they grow the ingredients that go into the noodles that make it organic and that they don't use pesticides and whatnot. He smiles and retorts, "They could just get venus fly traps... for the bugs."

Ah, yes. They could. My, my, my.