Monday, May 31, 2010


If you want a sign of my sheer exhaustion and general psychology lately, there are six messages on my answering machine. Six! Considering no one calls me ever that is quite an achievement. One is from one of my favorite humans on the planet, from my birthday, which is nearly a month ago now, and I haven't managed to call back yet.

I'm not doing so good, to the point where I'm actually wondering whether Something Is Wrong. Well, mostly because my jaw hurts again. My lack of tooth. Hmmm.

Also it would be nice to go a whole day without bursting into tears over something dopey like a Glee episode or a Bones episode I've seen six million times or that one song from Dead Man Walking with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Eddie Vedder. That song gets me every time!

I am all beat up and sore all over and my hands are killing me and won't hardly do anything at all.

Hey, guess what though? I had nearly given up on the sweet peas and they started coming up today! Yay! I've been out watering them every day and going SIGH and now here they come! Yippee!

Tomorrow there will be humans at the baseball game which will be an improvement in some senses (the good humans) and maybe not so much in other senses, harumph. Plus that whole Formless Dread thing which is not my favorite mode and yet? A specialty!

I keep knitting to try to loosen up my hands. It used to help way back in the beginning when I first got the crippling arthritis. I would knit and my hands would work better. But I guess this is more hurting from garden abuse (garden abusing me, not the other way around) not arthritis, which explains why it's not helping. Oh.

Well, we'll see how things fall out. I dislike the ambiguous future! But I suppose that's all we ever have.

Anyway if I owe you an email or a phone call, many apologies (mistyped "apologists" AGAIN) and I will definitely get back to you as soon as I'm moderately functional. Yeah!

I get so excited over a glass of water these days. That's weird, right? I mean, I look at a glass of water and it looks like the best thing that ever was in the whole history of ever. I might just be deeply thirsty, I suppose. Though sometimes I'll sit down with three large glasses of water and drink one after the other while reading my book or whatever. Mmmmmm, water.

Legolas vest: I have to put on one of those small of the back belt things that makes you not look like a giant pudding or moss-covered boulder. Like on the back of a lab coat. If it's a tailored Grey's Anatomy lab coat, I mean. I predict twisty physics-defying games with pins and two mirrors as I try to place it correctly. Fun times! Vest is going to be awesome. It will have toggles. Legolas clearly had an invisible zipper in his vest but I don't wear things as fitted as some slender elfin actor dude. My goodness, no!

And goodnight!

Sunday, May 30, 2010


Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.

How can I put this? Um, my favorite player got traded from a wonderful baseball team to a heinous hateful baseball team where everyone is like, "This goddamn shortstop we were supposed to train to be a shortstop but never did can't play shortstop! YOU SUCK, SHORTSTOP!" And then they scream and yell and throw rocks at the shortstop and won't let the shortstop use the dugout or anything and in general act like a bunch of cranky wolverines with PMS and personality disorders. Probably they'll get rid of the shortstop altogether very soon!

That is the news from the world of sports.

I have also been VERY BUSY besides following the sports news with avid interest. I had to get the car insured and registered and en-titled and inspected. California residents, be ready to swoon with jealousy, because it costs like twelve dollars to get your car inspected. At least I paid $14.50 and got the Sunday paper along with it. I know, huh? No emissions inspection, for one.

So overall getting all those presents for the car cost a massive bundle of money and took a huge chunk of time and energy. Wah, wah. Oh, sorry. Right. Am insanely lucky and all. Just explaining where I've been.

The other thing that ate my life (besides the whole traded shortstop extravaganza) was the garden. Oh that garden! Raking out dead grass roots clumps and rocks just about killed me dead. And took ages. And isn't done. And makes everything hurt like a hurting thing.

Then there's building the fence. I bought all the wrong things and made I think three trips to Home Despot and two to Lowe's, which I like much better and is nearer and cheaper. Though a whole wide variety of cute Home Despot boys were flirting with me which was weird and confusing and bewildering, and made me look around for hidden cameras. Maybe they were drunk!

Seriously, I was like, "But I am wearing leggings and socks and those orthopedic looking shoes and a black t-shirt over my cupcake skirt. Seriously? Seriously? I ate about a quart of very garlicky hummus in the past two days. Seriously?" Like if I had been *trying* to keep cute boys away, that's what I would have done.

I'm still baffled. But it was fun. I was staring at all the fencing materials and trying to make decisions. They were all clustering around telling me tall tales about how deer can jump over cars and will leap an eight foot fence no problem just to snack on my kale. Really, cute boys? Or were you having a fun time getting me to make that "Are you pulling my leg?" face?

Yesterday I had to dig holes for posts through a highly effortful sequence of trial and error. No, trial BY error. First I stood on my kitchen step stool and tried to hammer a seven foot green metal fence post into some hard dry ground with a mallet. Ha ha! It didn't even dent the ground. Though it did dent the mallet.

Then I hammered a wooden stake into a vampire the ground to make a starter hole and hammered the green metal post into that. Which did not work. I mean I only got either of them about six inches into the ground. Quick physics test: will a seven foot metal fence post stand up if only six inches of it is in the ground? Hell no!

So I had to dig a big hole FULL OF ROCKS which made it bigger and more difficult and effortsome and then hammer the wooden stake into the vampire post hole, all the while mumbling, "It's a post-hole digger. It's for digging holes. For posts." Because of Kaylee. And then hammer the green metal fence post into that starter hole and fill in the hole with ROCKS and couches and '57 Chevies and whatever else was around, then stomp it down really hard, then notice the post was crooked and fix that and stomp it in again.

ONLY SEVEN TIMES though. Argh. Probably need to get two more posts at least. And one of the gate posts is leaning to the left pretty severely. Dang it.

And then I had to wrestle a roll of 100 feet of 48" galvanized fencing all around the ~80 foot perimeter, attaching it to each fence post as I went, even though I cannot lift the roll at all. Or grip the pliers well enough with my busted up hands (which got extremely more busted up as I went) to bend the wire hooks into place to keep the fence on.

It looks absurdly professional. I went out this morning to see if it had fallen over, but nope!

Now I have to attach the other 48" of chicken wire above the galvanized. Oh ho ho ho ho ho! With my hands made of pudding. I'm not sure I could zip a zipper today. Good thing I wear toddler clothing, all sweatpants and t-shirts for my flappy useless hands.

So that should be interesting.

I have a plan to use some lighter gauge wire that I have around (probably intended for flower arrangements but I used it for stop-motion animation armatures) to attach the chicken wire. How exactly I intend to hold the roll of chicken wire up that high while I attach it to the fence posts is eluding me. But I didn't know how to do any of this so far and there it is to tell the tale.

Once I get the fence all done and invent a gate (whee!) and attach that somehow (how?) I can rake out the rest of the grass roots clumps and rocks (yay, bending double!) and THEN



And ONLY then...

I can plant my frelling garden. JEEBUS.

I decided yesterday that the helpful farm boy I kept fantasizing about, who knows how to do all these things and is tall and strong and looks amazing in those jeans and boots and that white t-shirt--where was I? Oh I decided he should materialize and build my fence for me. I would be very grateful, imaginary farm boy. Fetch me that pitcher?

Anyway I am full of OW which is why I'm still in here, slumped at my desk, drinking tea and putting off the time when I have to go outside and do a whole endless epic afternoon of agonizing effort after which according to the cute boys at Home Despot the deer will just leap lightly over my fence anyway and eat or stomp everything and then knock it down on their way out. They offered to come over here and sit by the garage drinking beer and then shoot and eat the deer, should that happen, but I declined. Seriously, was it my super cute French braids or what?

Did I tell you about the part where I hang plastic netting over the top to keep them out, but they're deer so they're not smart enough to know it's there, so they jump in anyway? No? What about where I hang fluttery fabric pieces, probably saved selvedge, so they can see it? I have plans, people. Big plans.

And plants that have to get into the ground. Or I probably would have jumped ship round about last Wednesday. I am telling you what.


Hey, I wrote some book on Friday at lunch, when I went out to the picnic table with my laptop, all befrazzled due to the shortstop situation and needing to get outside. It's the reboot of the green witch book that I started when I lost the old version in the great laptop disaster of 2009. It's kind of awesome.

I got good books to read from the library, too. In fact I had to evangelize Will Grayson, Will Grayson to the super awesome children's librarian guy because I saw they had it on the shelf and I got all excited. Seriously, it just came out. Yay, library, for getting it! I was all waving my arms and stuff and saying how it's like Going Bovine and King Dork and YOU SHOULD TOTALLY READ IT, IT'S ON THE SHELF RIGHT NOW!

He was like, "Aaaah! Okay! I'll have to check that out!" And backed away making placatory gestures. Okay, I made that part up.

I've been somewhat addled this week, what with one thing and another and another and another and oh yeah THAT. Jeebus Kobol Jehosophat. Putting me through umpteen wringers.

I got Malinda Lo's Ash to read, and Justine Larbaletier's How to Ditch Your Fairy, and a bunch of David Levithan books except I grabbed one at random to read over lunch and it was all in this lower case non-poetry poetry format (!!!) and about a boy and his first boyfriend, which, fine, but I don't actually like plain relationship novels of whatever orientation. I mean Meg Cabot is the closest I get and she's busy writing in the literary version of dancing a super fast tap number while telling incredibly funny jokes. See what I mean? Wicked funny and clever and hilarious use of language. Romance/relationship content is okay as long as it's in addition to awesome stories and characters and something else going on, generally some variety of magical realism and/or saving the world or something, right? Right.

Yesterday I got to go play with baby niece a lot, who is gigantic, and she got me to read her a bunch of ancient books that were ours when we were little, and then at the end of the evening came and sat on my lap in the rocking comfy chair and wriggled around while she watched tv. Warm toddler on my lap makes me fall asleep even faster than a warm furry cat on my lap. Larger, I suppose. 

The only other thing I did all week was watch almost all of Glee in an obsessive manner. I think there's one extant episode left. Woe! Want more! Want! I still don't get Madonna though. I guess I never will. She has the most generic voice I ever heard. I only can tell that one song and that's because of the words. Seriously, what do you see in Madonna? Someone explain it to me. Because it's sure not the singing.

I like Glee. I like all the characters and how awesomely funny and sad it is and how screwed up and mean and nice people are and how much things suck for everyone. It's like Buffy without the metaphors, and with added popular guys. Did you ever notice how Buffy didn't have any ongoing popular guys? Like the male corollary to Cordelia? Until Riley. I never noticed that before now. Huh. Glee does not have grown-up popular guys though. Only nerds. Hmm. I think Miss Pillsbury might be my favorite tv character ever in a lot of ways.

The only part that's troubling is all the dancing when it's shot so you can't actually see what's going on, and I don't like slow songs, and it's too embarrassing to watch when Mr. Schuester gets dancing funky. No, Mr. Schuester! Don't! Also he has Nathan Fillion's voice which I find quite strange and disorienting.

Oh no, now I have to find some food for lunch (there is very little food--yay, rice!) and go fight the powers fences that be. With my oven-mitt-like hands. They still type pretty good though so I'm going to say things are mostly fine.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


Did you ever notice that Matthew Morrison on Glee sounds exactly like Nathan Fillion? I was trying to fix my knitting and looking away from the screen and I'd have sworn that was Nathan Fillion. Now it's all I can hear. Weird, right? Like voice doubles. I had to go check to see if singing man was from Alberta too, but nope--California. Isn't that weird?

Doesn't anyone else hear that?

Oh I had a heinous, awful day. I won't even go into it, except to say of course that I'M RIGHT and XYZ is not the way to do things and I'm very tired of ABC! It's baloney, that's what it is! Downright lunch meat! Yeah!

I'm deeply fried. I was all set to wash the dishes and then hit the hay but I think I got sidetracked hayward and the dishes will just have to wait. Oooh. They are kind of old already. I mean I washed them twice on Sunday but not since then, I think.

It's time to do some grocery shopping since I wound up having plain yogurt and sliced almonds for lunch. The sliced almonds were left over from making stollen for Christmas, dude. That is just sad. I had an avocado too, meant to be the centerpiece, but it was super gross when I cut it open.

I'm out of all carbohydrates except for Triscuits and Corn Pops. Yoicks. Though you can go a long way with just Triscuits, it's true. Love them!

For dinner I made hummus (YUM! Am hummus champion!) and ate that with carrots as dipping tool/edible utensil, followed by a second course of leftover chocolate birthday cake icing. Mmm!

Clearly it is time to acquire foodstuffs.

Y'all, I went to VIP Auto Parts to try to get a front license plate holder but they kind of don't exist, or something. But the guy there and I were looking at my front bumper and discovered two little dimples to tell you where to screw the license plate on. So I did that. It seemed kind of violent though, drilling holes in the bumper. Should you really be required to drill holes in your car? Gosh!

I didn't have the time or energy to get it inspected and do the license plate too, but the plate was more important. You have a little time to get inspected but they will pull you over for not having a front plate. Though come to think of it, I never got pulled over for that in a year and a few months of driving around here. Maybe Outbacks are invisible! There sure are a lot of them. Maybe they look exceptionally law-abiding! It really is a grown-up kind of car. So out of character for me!

I frelled my lower back with all that bending and heaving of boulders yesterday, ow, so no garden prep for me today. I watered the flowers sprouting up everywhere, yay! Not the sweet peas and morning glories by the big tree out front yet. Not sprouting, I mean. I watered them. They don't get sun as much. But everything else is growing like gangbusters, tiny leaves everywhere. Yay! And a batch of morning glories sprouted at the corner of the garage, hurray!

Tomorrow I hope to hear good developments from the Suckage Amelioration Team, who I hope can resolve the exciting new crazy-making heinousness. I am AGAINST the heinousness. Down! With! That!

I in no way made very garlicky hummus as an offensive move, in the sense of offense/defense, not, you know in the sense of offending. The hummus was purely coincidental and dictated by the contents of the cupboard. The other options were pumpkin pie, jello, cat food, hot chocolate, and figs. And I had figs yesterday. Figs and Triscuits and a red bell pepper for dinner. It was awesome.

Fading into unconsciousness here, glug glug. Hope you all have a great long weekend when no one will write anything on the internet and I will get all alienated from the silence and watch all the Glee episodes again back to back! I am just warning you, in case you come back after and I'm humming and doing an embarrassing little dance step.


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

No sleep for the weary

Q: What would be the worst possible day to stop taking those narcotics you've been taking daily for a month now?

I did not get much sleep last night. Itchy bites turned into CRAZY LEGS. Do you ever get that? You're trying to go to sleep and your legs are like, "NO! Let us dance the samba! A one, and a two, and a hop hop hop!"

Also the itchy bug bites were ridiculous. Ridiculous! Two benadryl and they were still making me insane, as in, constant hard effort not to scratch. I even got up and put Oragel on them. That is made to put on hurting teeth! I just remembered putting it on the broken tooth once and the whole side of my face went numb. It kind of helped the bug bites for a while.

Around four I finally got up and took a vicodin because apparently I am a total crack head now. Though to be fair it was a pretty impossible concatenation of events.

To wit:
1. Four hour nap after work.
2. Nationwide candida infection and I mean everywhere.
3. Something-ozole pill which made me rather violently ill all evening in dramatic ways.
4. Started a new job yesterday, pretty much.
5. Stopped taking the pain pills. (No pain. Call me literal, but that means stop taking them, right?)
6. Beyonce colonized my brain with that hippity-hoppity cheerful energetic music of WAKE UP after I listened to that song approximately two thousand times.
7. Oh yeah and I took the last two of the antibiotics I'm allergic to, so there's that.

Really it was a perfect storm of badness. I'm lucky I got away with a few hours of sleep! Um, win?

Guess what happened today?

All good things! Though with trauma.

1. I got the car insured and registered and be-titled and put my new loon-bearing license plate on! Oh boy! I own a car! And now I can't pay the rent. Whoops. Maine is the most expensive state anywhere to register a car due to this thing called excise tax which ran into the several hundreds of dollars. OUCH. But it's all done except the inspection, so yay!

2. The tillerman came and tilled the garden! Hurray! I stopped by his house and paid him after work, he's so nice, and then went out and raked out the boulders until I couldn't rake the boulders any more, but that is frelling hard work and I still need to do more tomorrow.

3. I don't know if I ever mentioned this but one sure-fire way to turn me from freaking out to calm is to shut me in a room with a boy. We don't even have to interact in any way. Is it boy pheromones or something? I feel like a zoo animal every time this happens. I'll be all Ack! Ack! Ack! Ack! Aggle aggle aggle! with my head spinning around and then for one reason or another spend time with boys and then I'm all happy happy yay yay peaceful calm productive ahhhh. Go figure. Boys! The cause of, and solution to, quite a few of life's problems.

This was not a good month financially, what with having to pay a week's pay up front for the oral surgeon and missing most of two weeks of work (and therefore pay) and now having to spend two weeks' pay on the car today. If you do that math it works out to plus two point five weeks and minus five weeks, which is PROBLEMATICAL. Not even mentioning the ridiculous medical bills. Beh.

So anyway. Hi!

I'm most excited about my brilliant discovery that soaking the pad of a bandaid in strong tea totally shrinks down bug bites from a huge throbbing inflamed red area the size of my palm (yes) that makes people back away from me like I have Ebola, to nothing, flat and clear, just a little red dot in the center. How? How? How? Tea is astringent, but still! How does it do that? Tea is magical!

This morning I was sitting at my desk trying not to scratch the flaming volcanoes on my legs and remembered how good that teabag felt yesterday, so I got one and kept dabbing at them, and then thought: wouldn't it be great if I could just tape this on here? And the tea bandaid was born. It was like a miracle cure, seriously.

I'm very happy about that because it gives me recourse for future bug bites, right? Now I have a way to deal. They completely ruled my life from Sunday to this morning and that is just not acceptable. Now I'm back in charge.

You may feel free to run your own clinical trials with bandaids soaked in plain water, vinegar, vodka, etc. It's quite possible that even a plain water compress would do the same thing, but I kind of doubt it. Magic, I tell you! The magic of tea!

Hey, guess what else? One whole length of the sliding glass door's screen door was broken off the frame. Which means that the bugs that were coming through the screen were coming AROUND the screen, through the gaping hole! I couldn't find the duct tape (where is it?) so I taped that shut with clear packing tape from both sides. That should hold it until I can spline a new screen in there with my future splining tool. Spliner.

I kind of poured on the bug repellent when I went out to rake rocks and clumps of grass roots out of the garden. And they still kept coming after me. Which is where the world first heard the immortal words: "I am covered with neurotoxins! You cannot possibly want to bite me!"

Isn't it good I don't have neighbors within earshot?

The garden is so fluffy! There's a bumper boulder crop, too. Sweet delicious boulders, all you can eat! Much more raking to do, then I have to put up a fence, then I get to plant things. I have to trade my chickenwire for deer fence. Daft idea, chickenwire. It's only 48 inches tall! Deer fall over laughing at fences like that. I need a six foot fence, ideally with something over it, too, like, oh, chickenwire.

I'm sure deer can jump six foot fences too, but at least they won't be snorting with laughter while they're doing it. Laughing deer. So undignified.

I'm rescheduling my weekend "off" day from Online Job to today because I'm so tired I can't even think. Plus the sticker shock from the car registration thing and the insurance, that was a big punch in the gut. I don't take major financial setbacks well AT ALL and this month has been nothing but. Like I was just starting to wrap my head around the bills up to and including the surgery, and then I had to go get that freaking CT scan and add another basket of grands to the total. Unmanageable bills make me very, very discouraged.

But most of that is probably the ungodly exhaustion. I'm going to just watch a Glee or two and cut out some more quilt pieces with the little baby cutting mat on a footstool, or possibly just sit there looking glazed.

How come I have crazy legs right now, too? Seriously, I'm sitting at my desk in my ancient homemade blue corduroy dress of psychological comfort, all showered and clean and scrubbed of neurotoxins, full of spinach and ravioli (last of that bag from ages ago) and my legs are going all jitterbuggy on me. Hey, legs? SIT STILL.

I will get a good night's sleep tonight. THIS I VOW.

Maybe I'll do some stretching while I watch that episode, huh? Stretching makes me sleeeeeeeeeepy.

Practically perfect, but no window

Yes, all is well in potentially disastrous but actually awesome working place of work! Awesomeness. That is all I have to say about that. Except to add that I work extremely well in quiet places and I discovered I could hear my roommate coming even with my headphones on, which was a concern of mine, because people sneaking up behind me and scaring me is bad, bad, bad!

So I am happy! Yay!

However I'm also apparently having a massive histamine meltdown kaboom and my nice doctor has summoned me. Or more like summonsed me. Like she issued a diktat!

It's just that big cascade allergic reaction thing, plus bug bites, plus I think something else that you get after taking antibiotics (my female colleagues nod yes) plus stress and oh yeah 91 degrees and humid and pushing my chair across the parking lot with my computer on it, and all that.

I really don't know what's going on but nobody likes it. I kind of got into a slight shouting match with a really annoying medical personage I don't like who started doing that thing they sometimes do. You know that thing? Where they insist that something that happened years ago wasn't what the doctor then said it was? And that if the same thing is happening now, it can't possibly be that, so they're not going to treat it?

Are a lot of doctors assholes or do I just manage to hit the jackpot a lot? Actually this was a PA, never mind.

One of my least favorite things ever is to be told by someone who cannot possibly know anything about it that something in my past is not what people then said it was. Shut up, right now, and stay shut up.

Fortunately I never have to see this person again unless I grow a new gall bladder, which is exceedingly unlikely, don't you think?

Anyway ha ha horrifying allergic thing, bug bites growing as big as my palm, so itchy that nothing will stop them, though I did discover that a used teabag feels AMAZING on a giant welt that's making you frantic. Tea! It is the answer to everything!

I was driving home and actually having trouble driving because I kept trying to scratch one leg with the other foot and despite self-control and benadryl COULD NOT STOP SCRATCHING, so I grabbed the teabag from my morning en route cup and slapped that on one of the raging volcanoes and it immediately died down a whole lot.

Isn't that cool? I know!

Hydrocortisone is doing nothing. I actually started wondering if I'm allergic to hydrocortisone. I suppose it's possible. Wouldn't that be hilarious?

Other possibilities:

1. I'm allergic to Beyonce. It could be true! I listened to that song all afternoon. Hey, the gigantor bug bite thing started the first day I saw that football episode of Glee. A clue!

2. Can you be allergic to, like, yeast? The kind that is on you? Wouldn't that be horrific? Do I have to live in a bubble? Because I think that stuff is in the air.

3. I never want to take antibiotics again. This always happens, to a greater or lesser degree. Once you wake the sleeping histamine dragon, it takes a long time for it to go back to sleep.

4. Benadryl is not a good solution for constant use, people. I am a lightweight, drugwise. It knocks me flat. I got home and flumped into bed and slept four hours. Not good.

5. All that gardening and yard work could be implicated. Allergens! Dust! Pollen! Ack! Except it started before I did that, on Thursday, when I woke up with the red and mottled face. Woe.

6. Tonight I sprayed bug spray on my legs when I was not even planning on going outside, because they come through the screens. And even though I only have like six or eight bites, each one is a localized hellstorm. No more, please! I'm just going to keep doing that. Put on bug spray when I get home, just assume it as part of the deal.

7. This is only tangentially related, but I dreaded going out to water the plants so much because of the hellbites that I didn't do it. But then we had a thunderstorm! Yay! Thanks, world!

Oh yeah plus fever and chills and all that. As you know, Bob, I dislike fevers intensely because of how they make me kind of loopy.

Okay so via near-shouting-match with that PA I already got the one-pill something-ozole and took that this afternoon, and I'll go see my nice summons-y doctor, and she'll fix me up because she's super smart, and then I'll be great again, yay! It's okay, I had that surgery followup this week, so I can't start my exciting new project of going a whole week without recourse to a doctor until next week anyway.

Allergic reactions make me CRAZY, but I'm getting better at remembering that. Progress, right?

Did you know I always thought that song was in Spanish or Portuguese at the beginning? There is a Spanish word cingulades which I can't seem to find a definition for but apparently I still knew it was a word (speaking of crazy brain) so I guess that's kind of cool even though that would be an ah in Spanish, which is why it sounded more Portuguese to me, with those nasalized vowels. KNOW WHAT I MEAN? That song about  Au da cingulades?

Speaking of which, yesterday this nice tiny unassuming person stopped by my desk and said, "I'm going to the car to get my gun," and I was like, "You're going to the car to get your gun?" in a shrill but calm kind of way and she said, "My GUM," and I said, "Oh, good! I'm glad it's not your gun." See, going to get your gum is not really comment-worthy, but going to get your gun would be. Evacuate! Run! Ack!

Why did she tell me she was going to the car to get her gum? I am still befuddled by that. That is not crucial information to impart.

Time to hit the hay. In the war between itchy agitation and benadryl, the benadryl is pulling ahead by a nose.

Aw, man. I wish it was cold medicine that was ahead by a nose! Dang it.

This is the first picture that comes up if you do an image search for "window" in Google. Why?

Monday, May 24, 2010

Down, bugs!

I'm all bitten up! Ack! And being allergic to the antibiotic means hyper-reaction to everything. So a teeny nothing bug bite turns into a giant nuclear welt and I'm all frantic and spazzy and itchy, aaaaah! Nearly done with the stupid antibiotic! Almost there! Stay on target! Also, benadryl, or I'm this crazy-eyed lunatic vibrating at a high frequency and FREAKING OUT. Ahhh, benadryl. It's almost over. I swear.

Oh oh oh, I'm all in love with Glee! I love it! I keep watching the football episode, then fast-forwarding to the dance numbers. What has happened to me? I especially love the goofy little dance Kurt does leading up to kicking the final field goal and winning the game. But the whole dancing football team just fills me up with joy.

Is every single high school football scene outside Friday Night Lights shot at Burbank high school? Also I love how the locations person has never been outside southern California because that house in the Rhodes episode could not possibly exist anywhere else. I am pretty sure I used to go walking past that house up in the hills there.

Okay so the tillerman came today (tea?) and we marked out the area to be tilled and he's going to come sometime before Friday. Except I kind of didn't get clear how to pay him, like before or after or what? And how much? It's all very confusing to me. I kind of think I might call again tomorrow and say, "Um, how do I pay you, and when?"

It was hard to concentrate because there were bugs biting us the whole time, so you know, being constantly stuck with pins is bad for the thinkery. And then we were walking back to the driveway and both stopped to look at this weird thing on the lawn, and I said, "Turkey poop." It was turkey poop. What can I say? I think we share the same turkey flock. He's my neighbor! Turkey poop: also not great for the concentration.

Welcome to my yard, where there is often fascinating wildlife excrement!

Guess who called? Dennis! Yay! First Bethany then Dennis! It's not an unrelated phenomenon. Hurray! Friends in distant places with telephones! Oh boy! I miss them very much.

Glee makes me want to dance around, does that happen to you? I do not. But yesterday I did get the keyboard out of its box and played that Bach fugue better than I've managed in the past, which is weird because when is the last time I even read music, never mind played piano, never mind that I was never good at piano in the first place. So that was super cool. Also it was randomly set to this odd thing where if you played certain combinations of notes it would tell you what chord it was and fill in some backing for it. Huh! Apparently I like something called "sus 4" which must be a guitar thing because we didn't have that in classical music theory class.

I still can't do parallel motion. I learned that lesson extremely well and I can't do it even by mistake. They taught me polyphony so well, it's instinctive still. I was sort of observing what I played (making it up, you know) and kept getting entertained by the careful following of the rules of classical polyphony.

It's awesome to find that all of that is still in there. In my brain. Isn't that awesome?

Can't believe I'm still this jumpy and antsy even with two benadryl at their peak. FRANTIC. It'll pass, it'll pass, it'll pass.

That song, in the football episode? That is one catchy song. I am very very susceptible to the catchy song! Low resistance. It is stuck in my head forever and ever! And you know I had never seen that video thing but it's amazing. How do they do that? I can't learn the moves in aerobics, except the kickboxing one I've done ten million times.

I think I've heard it before (hey, I live in a media-free zone here, except NPR in the car in the morning) but I didn't understand the words. I was going to say that Beyonce is the alien because who can move like that, but clearly I am the alien in this situation, because I suspect that song has been everywhere for a long time now. Yes, it's from 2008. Just about the time I fell off the planet Earth!

Hey, what do I want to write? It is writing time. Oh boy!

If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it. Apparently.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Or possibly...

I am suddenly impatient with pancakes. So round and simple! Let's think of other interesting things to do with pancakes, preferable things that involve some of those healthy elements like fruit or veg or fiber or whatnot.

1. what happens if you grind up some nuts and put them in there? mmmm, potentially!
2. I thought about fruit in pancakes but does that work? will it burn or get gross? nearly made banana pancakes today as an experiment
3. I see no reason why they have to be sweet, either. Curried chicken pancakes! Squash pancakes! Szechuan green bean pancakes! Surely you can mix anything into the batter and come out with some kind of awesome hot flat bready deliciousness?

I totally want Szechuan green bean pancakes now. Except I'm dreadfully full and queasified from pancakes for breakfast (TOO MUCH) and then a sandwich and half an orange with baby niece and brother at lunch (WAY TOO MUCH MIGHT DIE NOW.)

I can't get over this conviction that tea will help me feel better. Tea! Tea = better! Except I do not think this is necessarily so any longer. Humph.

My tummy likes a nice warm laptop on it, huh. Might be time to get out the heating pad. Do you know what happens when I put the heating pad on my tummy and the quilt on the heating pad? There is instantly a cat on top of both. It's true!

It was the most gorgeous of all possible days today and I got to spend a lot of it running around the yard after little Julia and her helicoptering dad, as she engaged in logical activities like rubbing mulch on my leg or rubbing dandelion fluff on my other leg. Okay! Then run run run! Then we put up the baby gate and had lunch on the deck. She ran back and forth shrieking like a banshee, which was way more fun than it sounds.

And my brother and I consulted on how I can get from five figures of medical debt (and six figures of student loan debt) to some kind of positive state from whence I can somehow field a house and a stable enough life that they'll let me foster/adopt kids. See what I'm saying? I'm going to see a financial counselor one of these days to see what they thing the best options are. Like, it's super nice that three people donated to help out with the medical bills (and you are supremely awesome if you are one of them!) and it's super nice that the hospital is deducting nearly 20% but it still means coming up with, er, let's say about $12,000 at a conservative estimate by the end of November which is when the 20% deduction runs out.

I'm just stumped as to how to overcome this. And I have been thinking outside the box here. Anyway, I think a knowledgeable financial counselor person could maybe give me some answers to those sorts of things.