Saturday, February 5, 2022
Wooooooooooooooooooooow
It's been almost a full 8 years since my last post. In that time, so much has happened! Let's see:
1. First and foremost, I'm a Gamma now! And not just one grandbaby, I have SIX. The oldest are Julie's Jackson at 6 years old, Kat's Aaron at 6 years old, then Julie's Michael at 3, Brooklyn at 2, Alex's Acacia at 2 and finally Alex's Eila at 7 1/2 months. I love them so much and wish that I was able to see them more, but it's hard with schedules and the distance between here and where they live. Jackson and Aaron were born only two months apart, but the difference in their size when Aaron was born was striking. It looked like Jackson (the older of the two) was twice the age/size of Aaron. But it was just that Jackson was a bit large and Aaron was a bit tiny. But both are wonderful. Now that they're six, the size difference isn't AS striking. Actually, all of Julie's children are large for their age. And I don't mean chubby babies. I mean like someone hit 150% on the copier by accident. I mean, for Christmas this past year, Michael (3) was in 5T clothes and Brooklyn (not yet 2) was in 3T. I call Brooklyn "my baby" because when I firwt met her, I didn't want to let her go. She was the first girl born amongst the grandbabies and I fell in love. I tried to keep her, but I was forced to let her go home with her parents. So every time I see her now, I walk in and say "Give me my baby!". Jackson and Michael have been diagnosed with Autism, but they are in therapy and I'm told they're doing well (again, see the "I don't see them often enough" comment). Alex had her two girls in fairly quick succession. I believe there's less than an year between the two. And while we would prefer Alex find a better mate, I have to say that Raul is a good father to his girls. The two of them (Alex and Raul), despite the hurdles they've faced, are still going strong. So I guess I have to give that to them. Alex is a doting mother, and those girls are SUPER cute. They video chat with Smiley usually about once a week. I usually hear him making popping noises and gurgles while I'm working on a Friday, and I know that means he's face to face with a grandbaby. Smiley loves being a grandpa. I love being a grandma. Life's pretty good that way.
2. We lost Loki and then Shoe. It's been 2-3 years now since they're gone and it still hurts. Loki passed during a routine dental cleaning (THAT sucked), and Shoe got cancer and was gone within weeks of his diagnosis.
3. We acquired and lost Sassy, an American Eskimo rescue. She was wonderful. She too was lost due to cancer. That makes three furbabies lost to cancer. No more, please.
4. We acquired Lucy (short for Lucyfur), who was a rescue from Illinois. She was brought up for me by our friend Keri for a trial weekend. This was a few months after we lost Shoe. She is a beautiful calico baby. I fell in love with her at first sight. Keri described her as very anti-social, hates humans (hisses at them), generally ok with other animals, but loved Keri. Initially she was very skiddish, and wasn't my biggest fan. Then Smiley came home. Next thing I know he's coming around the corner from the front all with her in his arms all lovey dovey. She didn't really warm up to me that weekend, so at the end of the weekend when Keri was packing up to go home, she asked if she was packing up Lucy too (she had a different name at that time - Willow or some shit). I looked at her loving on my husband and just couldn't take that away from him. And that, my friends, is how my husband acquired a cat.
5. We were graced with Puddin. So Smiley's bff lives Up Nort, where even the cities are in the country. And I come home from work one day and Smiley asks me, "How would you like a kitten?" At that point, I wasn't sure anymore. I was still hurting from Shoe and Loki (this wasn't long after we got Lucy), and Lucy still wasn't warming up to me. I was wondering if I should even bother. Plus kittens get into so much stuff... "It's part bobcat." he says. SOLD. So I eagerly awaited the birth of our new kitten (we got first pick of the litter). Then they were born and I bugged Smiley every weekend to go up north. It took us a couple of months, so I had to pick a kitten (to be set aside) from pictures. Most of the kittens were black. There was one grey and white one, one calico and one light calico. Now, apparently not everyone's heard of a light calico, so let me explain for those confused. A calico is a cat (usually female) that is black, brown and white. A light calico is a cat (also usually female) that is gray, tan and white. I point this out specifically because guess which one was love at first sight? Yup, the light calico. I tell Smiley's bff and his wife this. They set aside a kitten and start to give it extra loves because they know I want a snuggler. Guess which one they set aside? You guessed it, the regular calico. Eventually when pictures of the wrong kitten start arriving on a regular basis, I point out the error. No, LIGHT calico. The gray, tan and white one. OH! So better late than never, light calico kitten starts getting extra snuggles. So longer-than-I-wanted later, when we show up to finally pick up my new baby, there's TWO super snuggly babies. And they're freakking adorable. I start to second guess my decision, but the pull was still there toward the light calico. I felt like this may be my new familiar. Smiley says, "We are NOT bringing home TWO kittens." But what if.... I say, I agree, I don't want two kittens. But maybe we know someone who's looking for a kitten? At this point, Strings pops to mind. We quickly send pictures to Strings of the kittens. He agrees, he likes the calico, but his current apartment doesn't allow pets. But he's moving in a few months, so... Smiley's bff says either we take both now or we take one now, but he's not holding onto a kitten for a few months. Somehow I manage to puppydog eye my way into convincing Smiley that we should take both kittens home, and the calico (the darker one) will go live with Strings when he gets his new place. Enter Lillith and Puddin. Bringing home two kittens actually made the transition easier for the kittens since they had a sibling to take comfort with. Lucy, who had been warming up to me at this point, realized I had the AUDACITY to bring KITTENS into her home and quickly wrote me off. A few short months later, Strings bought a house and Lillith (aka Lilly aka Demon Child) went to live with her daddy. Puddin, on the other hand, the light calico, was the cutest kitten I've ever seen. I'm not kidding.
My mother stopped by one day and I brought Puddin out to meet Grandma. My mother took one look at her and burst into tears, exclaiming, "Oh my goodness! She's the cutest kitten I've ever seen!" And my mother is not a cat-person. I also heard her whisper to the kitten, "You have no idea how lucky you are. You are going to have the most wonderful home."
6. Logan came to live with us for his high school years. I was shocked that his mom let him go, but I guess it was better than watching her son kill her husband. Just another example of her choosing her husband over her children. But I digress. This is about Logan, not her. It was wonderful having the Boy with us. And then the house we were living in (renting) was put on the market. Smiley and I made the choice to take that opportunity to move back to my hometown. Smiley had gotten a job there and had been commuting an hour to work and based on where we were, my commute would be about an hour, regardless of whether we stayed where we were or went back to my hometown. Unfortunately, that meant uprooting the Boy for his senior year. He had turned 18 within days of the end of his Junior year, and he made the decision to stay. It was an upsetting time, having the Boy move out very suddenly and unexpectedly, as we had planned for him to move with us. He claimed to be living with his best friend and his best friend's family (this was the arrangement we were told), but before long, it was apparent that he was ACTUALLY living with his girlfriend and her family. (*sigh*) He also made the decision to enlist into the army. So within three weeks of graduation from high school, we had to say goodbye to the Boy as we sent him off to boot camp. I cried for a week. He made it through boot camp ok and is now stationed at Fort Knox in Kentucky. And he asked his girl to marry him. We were so happy. She's a great gal and we get along great with her family. They're currently planning a wedding for August of this year.
7. We "acquired" a Jacky. What's a Jacky? She's a 20-something woman whose family was JUST AWFUL to her. Very toxic. Since Logan had no use for his room, we asked Jacky to come stay with us. By separating herself from the environment of her family, she has managed to set boundaries and somewhat heal. She's also found a bit of her voice and is starting to realize that it's ok to do what's in her best interests instead of the whims of narcissistic family members who treat her like a workhorse. She's also had some gender-identity issues and, at least in my eyes, she has been able to embrace that part of herself more knowing she won't be constantly judged, put down, etc. in this house. It's been nice to watch her grow into herself.
8. One word: Covid. We've lost people. The pandemic has changed people and their environments. I now work from home. I love working from home. It's the only good part of Covid. The bank was forced to test their technological limits and found that their systems held up. Next month it will be two years that I've been working from home. I rarely wear jeans or dress pants anymore. I'm not alone in that.
9. I started a business. Not just any business, a Pure Romance business (Pure Romance by Ray J - https://bit.ly/PureRomancebyRayJ ). Yes, that's right, I've achieved the ultimate goal of being the "Dildo Lady". It's so much more than that. The company is ever-evolving and has gotten much more well-rounded in their product selection. They stress education and are now working toward certifications for their independant consultants (now called Partners). I've built my business up. I have a team under me. I am a leader. I am in the Future Leaders program, scheduled for April graduation. I'm hoping one day to make this my only job. I have a ways to go, but I have ideas to get me there. It's hard work, but very rewarding. Plus it satisfies my desire to learn. There's always something more for me to learn in this business. PR even has partnered with Indiana University for a Sexual Health Professional Training Program. Of course I signed up. Thank goodness it's self-paced, because shortly after I signed up, I was accepted into Future Leaders and that has taken up a lot of my time. I just recently completed a 21-day cleanse (a program from PR) where I learned that not all fish suck and I like spaghetti squash (among other things). Also, I feel better with cleaner eating. I may actually start eating better now.
Welp. I think that's the highlights. I'm sure I'm missing SO MUCH that happened in the last eight years. That's ok. Maybe I'll post again sooner than eight years from now. LOL
Monday, March 17, 2014
Focus
The old saying goes, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." Frankly, it's why there tends to be such long pauses between my posts. Let me explain...
My original intention with this blog was to share some of my more unusual life experiences (of which there tend to be more than my fair share). But I'm the kind of person who feels positive begets positive, as well as negative begets negative. I also feel there is enough drama in the world (and on the Internet) without me posting more. This makes sharing pieces of my life difficult at times, especially when not all is positive.
The fact of the matter is, is that bad things happen to good people (well, bad things happen to bad people too, but that's beside the point). It is precisely how you choose to focus on the event that makes all the difference. Perspective is a difficult lesson, but an important one. My father taught me that.
So when I write these entries, I will occasionally touch base on certain major events in my life. But I also do occasionally read back through this blog. And when I do, I personally don't want to read a blog that's nothing but a bunch of whiney, bitching and complaining, even if it's justified. I'd much rather giggle at the insanity that is my life.
Because I don't know about you, but sometimes I need to remember that life... Well.... That's some funny shit.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
2013 In Review
Happy New Year everyone! I hate to say it, but I'm glad 2013 is over. Ugh.... What a year. Some good things happened. Some bad things happened. Some more bad things happened. And some not-so-bad things happened. Let's review...
2013 started out well enough with me fresh into a new position with my old job, learning the ropes at a new location. Dan and I decided to move in February so I could be closer to work. For the first time in several years, I was within a 15 minute commute to work. It was wonderful.
In April, Harley was diagnosed with cancer. It was like getting sucker-punched in the stomach.
In June, just as we were preparing for the one-year anniversary of the passing of my brother-in-law, our good friend, Rev, passed suddenly and unexpectedly in a tragic accident. This was just two weeks after attending the funeral of the "old lady" of another one of our good friends, Neale, after she passed from cancer. Dan and I decide that, other than a few select days, June no longer exists in our world. The day after our friend Rev passed, I started having a migraine that I still have to this day. (Fortunately, the migraine is controlled mostly by medication.)
July 9th came, and on the one-year anniversary of the passing of my Ebony, my Harley left this realm and passed to the next. I was comforted to know that he died by my side during the night.
In August, things began to pick up with Dan finally being able to go back to school. Unfortunately, also in August, I was given notice that my position, along with many others, was being eliminated.
My position being eliminated ended up being a blessing in disguise, however, as it afforded me the opportunity to find the position I'm currently in now, where I am quite happy. Not only is my current job even closer to home, but the hours are better and there was even a pay increase.
In the long run, despite desperately missing the people I lost through the year, I ended up the year better than I began it. And for that, I am thankful. I mean, would I give up something good to have one of the bad things not happen? If it meant Harley never died, maybe. But then, change is inevitable. The fact of the matter is, if Harley hadn't died in July, it would have been some time. And I never would have been ok with it. Ever.
So knowing now what I do, would I go back and change a single moment? Never. You may wonder why I'd say that, but the fact of the matter is, when the day is done, I've got a pretty good life. And every day, every moment of my life up until this very moment right now is what has gotten me the life I have right now. That doesn't mean just the good stuff. It means the bad stuff too. So no. I wouldn't change it. Because it's who I am. And that's pretty damn good if you ask me.
Have a great 2014, everyone. Happy New Year!
2013 started out well enough with me fresh into a new position with my old job, learning the ropes at a new location. Dan and I decided to move in February so I could be closer to work. For the first time in several years, I was within a 15 minute commute to work. It was wonderful.
In April, Harley was diagnosed with cancer. It was like getting sucker-punched in the stomach.
In June, just as we were preparing for the one-year anniversary of the passing of my brother-in-law, our good friend, Rev, passed suddenly and unexpectedly in a tragic accident. This was just two weeks after attending the funeral of the "old lady" of another one of our good friends, Neale, after she passed from cancer. Dan and I decide that, other than a few select days, June no longer exists in our world. The day after our friend Rev passed, I started having a migraine that I still have to this day. (Fortunately, the migraine is controlled mostly by medication.)
July 9th came, and on the one-year anniversary of the passing of my Ebony, my Harley left this realm and passed to the next. I was comforted to know that he died by my side during the night.
In August, things began to pick up with Dan finally being able to go back to school. Unfortunately, also in August, I was given notice that my position, along with many others, was being eliminated.
My position being eliminated ended up being a blessing in disguise, however, as it afforded me the opportunity to find the position I'm currently in now, where I am quite happy. Not only is my current job even closer to home, but the hours are better and there was even a pay increase.
In the long run, despite desperately missing the people I lost through the year, I ended up the year better than I began it. And for that, I am thankful. I mean, would I give up something good to have one of the bad things not happen? If it meant Harley never died, maybe. But then, change is inevitable. The fact of the matter is, if Harley hadn't died in July, it would have been some time. And I never would have been ok with it. Ever.
So knowing now what I do, would I go back and change a single moment? Never. You may wonder why I'd say that, but the fact of the matter is, when the day is done, I've got a pretty good life. And every day, every moment of my life up until this very moment right now is what has gotten me the life I have right now. That doesn't mean just the good stuff. It means the bad stuff too. So no. I wouldn't change it. Because it's who I am. And that's pretty damn good if you ask me.
Have a great 2014, everyone. Happy New Year!
Thursday, September 19, 2013
My College Boy
Hubby has returned to school. As an academic geek, I am totally stoked on this. I get to help him with his homework. And I already refer to him as my "boy toy", so calling him my "college boy toy" was just the next logical step.
And I must say, he's taken to it rather well. From what I've been told, he wasn't one that was much for school when he was in high school (how many teenagers are?), but he diligently goes to class, and does his homework without me having to prompt him (most of the time). He asks questions and seems genuinely excited when he comes home from school and tells me about his day.
Frankly, it's making me a little jealous. I think if we didn't need to have someone employed, that I might sign up to go back to school too. Sadly, this is not a possibility. I'll just have to live vicariously through him at the moment.
What would I go back to school for, you might ask? Believe it or not, I have considered being a therapist. But, you know those people who work at their favorite retail store until they realize that they're only working to pay for the things they are buying at the store? Yeah, that would be me as a therapist. Besides, if people aren't paying me, I can tell them they're an idiot without the threat of a lawsuit.
So for now, I'll sit back and enjoy helping my hubby with his homework. His professors should be happy he has me to help him, or they would get some very inappropriate papers... Hubby has little to no filters.
On that note, for your pure amusement, I present to you, Danisms:
Dan: Ooo! A Shelby Cobra!
Me (driving): Where?
Dan: In a parking lot back there.
Me: Silly me, I'm focusing on cars on the road, not cars in parking lots.
Dan: I know. That's why I said "Ooo!" for you.
Me: So you said "Ooo!" in lieu of me?
Dan: Yes, I in lieu "Ooo!"d.
Me: What's my favorite color?
Dan: Deer.
Me: What are we going to do today, Pinky?
Dan: Fill chickens with helium and use them as balloons.
Me: I told you last week, NO!
Dan: Oh, come on. We can just tell people they're animatronic.
Me: Why must you insist on pooping in the bathroom?!?
Dan: Because if I poop anywhere else in the house, you yell at me.
Me: Bring me an ice cream sandwich.
Dan: White or whole wheat?
Me: What?!
Dan: Bread, vanilla ice cream, lettuce, tomato... You know, ice cream sandwich!
Dan and I were watching Redneck Island and one of the contestants kept changing his answer to the question "Are you married?" I looked at Dan and said, "You'd never do that, right?" He said, "Hell no! I'd tell all of them that I'm married. Very married. Very happily married. And that my wife will hunt me down and kill me if I ever even hint otherwise."
Me (talking to myself): Hmmmm. I'll have to check that out.
Dan: What's that?
Me: A billboard we passed... For a place that sells corsets and lingerie.
Dan: Yeah?
Me: They have Romance Classes.
Dan: Oh, you don't need to check into that.
Me: Why not?
Dan: I think you're perfectly romantic enough.
Me: (blank stare) Yeah.... Cuz I was gonna call for ME.
Dan: I have a wife, that's much better than a girlfriend.
Me: Why is that better than a girlfriend?
Dan: Because if I had a girlfriend, you'd kill her. And me. If I just have a wife, I get to live.
Dan: Maybe this weekend you and the girls can go do something together. Something girly. Like shooting flowers or something.
Well, that's all folks.... Until next time!
And I must say, he's taken to it rather well. From what I've been told, he wasn't one that was much for school when he was in high school (how many teenagers are?), but he diligently goes to class, and does his homework without me having to prompt him (most of the time). He asks questions and seems genuinely excited when he comes home from school and tells me about his day.
Frankly, it's making me a little jealous. I think if we didn't need to have someone employed, that I might sign up to go back to school too. Sadly, this is not a possibility. I'll just have to live vicariously through him at the moment.
What would I go back to school for, you might ask? Believe it or not, I have considered being a therapist. But, you know those people who work at their favorite retail store until they realize that they're only working to pay for the things they are buying at the store? Yeah, that would be me as a therapist. Besides, if people aren't paying me, I can tell them they're an idiot without the threat of a lawsuit.
So for now, I'll sit back and enjoy helping my hubby with his homework. His professors should be happy he has me to help him, or they would get some very inappropriate papers... Hubby has little to no filters.
On that note, for your pure amusement, I present to you, Danisms:
Dan: Ooo! A Shelby Cobra!
Me (driving): Where?
Dan: In a parking lot back there.
Me: Silly me, I'm focusing on cars on the road, not cars in parking lots.
Dan: I know. That's why I said "Ooo!" for you.
Me: So you said "Ooo!" in lieu of me?
Dan: Yes, I in lieu "Ooo!"d.
Me: What's my favorite color?
Dan: Deer.
Me: What are we going to do today, Pinky?
Dan: Fill chickens with helium and use them as balloons.
Me: I told you last week, NO!
Dan: Oh, come on. We can just tell people they're animatronic.
Me: Why must you insist on pooping in the bathroom?!?
Dan: Because if I poop anywhere else in the house, you yell at me.
Me: Bring me an ice cream sandwich.
Dan: White or whole wheat?
Me: What?!
Dan: Bread, vanilla ice cream, lettuce, tomato... You know, ice cream sandwich!
Dan and I were watching Redneck Island and one of the contestants kept changing his answer to the question "Are you married?" I looked at Dan and said, "You'd never do that, right?" He said, "Hell no! I'd tell all of them that I'm married. Very married. Very happily married. And that my wife will hunt me down and kill me if I ever even hint otherwise."
Me (talking to myself): Hmmmm. I'll have to check that out.
Dan: What's that?
Me: A billboard we passed... For a place that sells corsets and lingerie.
Dan: Yeah?
Me: They have Romance Classes.
Dan: Oh, you don't need to check into that.
Me: Why not?
Dan: I think you're perfectly romantic enough.
Me: (blank stare) Yeah.... Cuz I was gonna call for ME.
Dan: I have a wife, that's much better than a girlfriend.
Me: Why is that better than a girlfriend?
Dan: Because if I had a girlfriend, you'd kill her. And me. If I just have a wife, I get to live.
Dan: Maybe this weekend you and the girls can go do something together. Something girly. Like shooting flowers or something.
Well, that's all folks.... Until next time!
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Changing my "About Me"
It is with deep sorrow that I must announce that in the wee hours of Tuesday, July 9th, 2013, my little dragon grew wings. He fought valiantly, and even surprised me with how long he survived in the end. When he passed, he hadn't eaten in a full week and hadn't drank any water in three days. My only solace is the knowledge that he is no longer in pain. I know he was loved and not alone when he went. I miss him with every breath. I keep thinking I hear him meow.
That being said, I realized, like all the dumb things you think about in the days following a loved one's passing, that I will now need to update my 'About Me' to show that I live with my TWO cats rather than three. I refuse. He may no longer be with me physically, but he's still in my heart.
My mother cried when I told her. My mother. Cried. And told me that she hopes when she gets old and is dying, that I take care of her just as well as I did with Harley. I told her I promised I would.
My other two? They're.... adjusting. Loki mopes around, but if he sees me getting sad, he does something adorable to make me smile. Shoe has been a tad skittish. He doesn't adjust well to change. And he knows Momma is sad.
Overall, I must say I am quite lucky. I have plenty of support from my family and friends. My step-daughter, when we called to tell the children, just said, "I wish I was there to hug you." She's such a good kid. Fortunately, they all had a chance to say goodbye to Harley just days before he passed. I'm sure it will be hard the next time they are up, but we'll get through it together.
Some people might say, "He's just a cat." Right before I punched them in the throat, mind you... But the thing is, he wasn't just a cat. He was someone who has been by my side constantly for the last 16 years. He was my friend. My confidant. The one who loved me when I was unlovable. The one who kept me alive when I didn't want to be. The one who comforted me when I was sad. The one who always reminded me that life goes on, even when his was ending. I loved that grumpy, crotchety old bastard. And my life has been forever changed because he was in it.
Rest in Peace, Harley.
That being said, I realized, like all the dumb things you think about in the days following a loved one's passing, that I will now need to update my 'About Me' to show that I live with my TWO cats rather than three. I refuse. He may no longer be with me physically, but he's still in my heart.
My mother cried when I told her. My mother. Cried. And told me that she hopes when she gets old and is dying, that I take care of her just as well as I did with Harley. I told her I promised I would.
My other two? They're.... adjusting. Loki mopes around, but if he sees me getting sad, he does something adorable to make me smile. Shoe has been a tad skittish. He doesn't adjust well to change. And he knows Momma is sad.
Overall, I must say I am quite lucky. I have plenty of support from my family and friends. My step-daughter, when we called to tell the children, just said, "I wish I was there to hug you." She's such a good kid. Fortunately, they all had a chance to say goodbye to Harley just days before he passed. I'm sure it will be hard the next time they are up, but we'll get through it together.
Some people might say, "He's just a cat." Right before I punched them in the throat, mind you... But the thing is, he wasn't just a cat. He was someone who has been by my side constantly for the last 16 years. He was my friend. My confidant. The one who loved me when I was unlovable. The one who kept me alive when I didn't want to be. The one who comforted me when I was sad. The one who always reminded me that life goes on, even when his was ending. I loved that grumpy, crotchety old bastard. And my life has been forever changed because he was in it.
Rest in Peace, Harley.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
It's Pre-July
That's right, folks. June no longer exists in my world. Well, ok, June 6th. Maybe June 18th. But that's it. Earlier this month, a good friend of my husband and I passed away very unexpectedly. Like, I-still-can't-believe-he's-not-here unexpectedly. Couple this with the passing of another of our good friends three years ago, followed by the passing of my father three days after, followed by my brother-in-law passing two years to the date of my father... Well... You may be able to see why I might be a tad jumpy when the phone rings these days.
The good news is, I still have my little dragon. That's right. Harley is still kicking it, much to the surprise of my vet. When I called for refills on his prescriptions she said, "Frankly, I'm a bit surprised you're still calling me about him. He must be a real fighter." Oh honey, you have NO idea.
People always ask, "Is he still eating? You'll know he's near the end when he stops eating." And the answer is yes. He is eating me out of house and home. Why, you may ask? Because he now mostly only eats premium food. Oh, I still give him the usual stuff. And he'll eat that too, but the second I say the "v" word, he forgets there's anything else...
The "v" word, you may ask? My friend Jen was up visiting, shortly after Harley's diagnosis. We had to run out to pick up more cat food and I said I was thinking of buying him a treat, just to spoil him a little. (Cuz that never happens....) Jen says, "You can buy him venison..." You've never seen a sixteen-year-old-cat-with-cancer's head snap around so fast. His ears perked up and his eyes got big. (I'm talking Disney big.) It was decided.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that my totem animal is the deer. As such, I cannot stand venison. Yes, I've actually tried venison. Venison steak, venison jerky, venison sausage... yuck, yuck, YUCK. I can't even stand the smell of venison. So the fact that my cat wanted to eat venison was already a tad disconcerting.
Flash forward to the pet supply store. We pick up the usual cat food (special food for my Shoe, nummy food for my Loki, and nutritious food for my Harley). I then proceed to walk up and down the aisles looking for venison. At first, I must admit I wasn't looking that hard. But then, realizing I had promised Harley I would pick some up for him, it became a mission. After what seemed like forever, I finally found ONE company (one!) that had venison in gravy. In a teeeeeeeny tiiiiiny can. For almost a dollar each. Each can. Each teeny freakin' can. But... a promise is a promise, so I picked one up for him.
I admit, I had hoped he wouldn't like it. I had hoped he would think it was disgusting like I do. I swear, I puke a little in my mouth when I open the can. The smell... Urgh... the smell... Anyway, I give him the can. He devours it in no time flat and then looks at me as if to say, "That can was tiny. You bought more than one, right? RIGHT?" *sigh*
So now, I get woken up every morning, usually 1/2 hour BEFORE my alarm goes off, by Harley standing on my head and screaming. He does this until I get up and give him venison. I've tried everything. I've tried to ignore him. Somehow, I can manage to block out the deafening yell in my ear, but can't get past when he tickles my nose with his whiskers. (Never let him fool you into thinking he ain't smart.) I've tried getting up and giving him regular food. He eats a bit of that and then goes back to standing on my head and doing his impression of an ambulance. The only thing I've found that even attempts to work is to kick all of the cats out of the bedroom and shut the door. This, of course, prevents him from standing on my head, but only makes the screaming louder. And I hadn't thought it could GET louder.... The instant that I put him in the hall and shut the door, he turns and yells louder and louder until I let him back in. Should the screaming not work, it escalates to pounding on the door.
On those rare occasions where he gives up before I give in, he does so only long enough to throw up EV-ERY-WHERE. Once the whole house is covered in cat vomit, he then goes back to screaming and pounding on the door. He's persistent, I'll give him that...
Well, I'd keep writing, but I guess it's time for more venison. There's a cat on my head. Screaming. Loudly. Subtle, he ain't....
The good news is, I still have my little dragon. That's right. Harley is still kicking it, much to the surprise of my vet. When I called for refills on his prescriptions she said, "Frankly, I'm a bit surprised you're still calling me about him. He must be a real fighter." Oh honey, you have NO idea.
People always ask, "Is he still eating? You'll know he's near the end when he stops eating." And the answer is yes. He is eating me out of house and home. Why, you may ask? Because he now mostly only eats premium food. Oh, I still give him the usual stuff. And he'll eat that too, but the second I say the "v" word, he forgets there's anything else...
The "v" word, you may ask? My friend Jen was up visiting, shortly after Harley's diagnosis. We had to run out to pick up more cat food and I said I was thinking of buying him a treat, just to spoil him a little. (Cuz that never happens....) Jen says, "You can buy him venison..." You've never seen a sixteen-year-old-cat-with-cancer's head snap around so fast. His ears perked up and his eyes got big. (I'm talking Disney big.) It was decided.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that my totem animal is the deer. As such, I cannot stand venison. Yes, I've actually tried venison. Venison steak, venison jerky, venison sausage... yuck, yuck, YUCK. I can't even stand the smell of venison. So the fact that my cat wanted to eat venison was already a tad disconcerting.
Flash forward to the pet supply store. We pick up the usual cat food (special food for my Shoe, nummy food for my Loki, and nutritious food for my Harley). I then proceed to walk up and down the aisles looking for venison. At first, I must admit I wasn't looking that hard. But then, realizing I had promised Harley I would pick some up for him, it became a mission. After what seemed like forever, I finally found ONE company (one!) that had venison in gravy. In a teeeeeeeny tiiiiiny can. For almost a dollar each. Each can. Each teeny freakin' can. But... a promise is a promise, so I picked one up for him.
I admit, I had hoped he wouldn't like it. I had hoped he would think it was disgusting like I do. I swear, I puke a little in my mouth when I open the can. The smell... Urgh... the smell... Anyway, I give him the can. He devours it in no time flat and then looks at me as if to say, "That can was tiny. You bought more than one, right? RIGHT?" *sigh*
So now, I get woken up every morning, usually 1/2 hour BEFORE my alarm goes off, by Harley standing on my head and screaming. He does this until I get up and give him venison. I've tried everything. I've tried to ignore him. Somehow, I can manage to block out the deafening yell in my ear, but can't get past when he tickles my nose with his whiskers. (Never let him fool you into thinking he ain't smart.) I've tried getting up and giving him regular food. He eats a bit of that and then goes back to standing on my head and doing his impression of an ambulance. The only thing I've found that even attempts to work is to kick all of the cats out of the bedroom and shut the door. This, of course, prevents him from standing on my head, but only makes the screaming louder. And I hadn't thought it could GET louder.... The instant that I put him in the hall and shut the door, he turns and yells louder and louder until I let him back in. Should the screaming not work, it escalates to pounding on the door.
On those rare occasions where he gives up before I give in, he does so only long enough to throw up EV-ERY-WHERE. Once the whole house is covered in cat vomit, he then goes back to screaming and pounding on the door. He's persistent, I'll give him that...
Well, I'd keep writing, but I guess it's time for more venison. There's a cat on my head. Screaming. Loudly. Subtle, he ain't....
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Which D & D Character Are You?
I Am A: Lawful Neutral Human Druid (6th Level)
Ability Scores:
Strength-11
Dexterity-11
Constitution-13
Intelligence-19
Wisdom-15
Charisma-15
Alignment:
Lawful Neutral A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs him. Order and organization are paramount to him. He may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or he may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Lawful neutral is the best alignment you can be because it means you are reliable and honorable without being a zealot. However, lawful neutral can be a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society.
Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.
Class:
Druids gain power not by ruling nature but by being at one with it. They hate the unnatural, including aberrations or undead, and destroy them where possible. Druids receive divine spells from nature, not the gods, and can gain an array of powers as they gain experience, including the ability to take the shapes of animals. The weapons and armor of a druid are restricted by their traditional oaths, not simply training. A druid's Wisdom score should be high, as this determines the maximum spell level that they can cast.
Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)
Ability Scores:
Strength-11
Dexterity-11
Constitution-13
Intelligence-19
Wisdom-15
Charisma-15
Alignment:
Lawful Neutral A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs him. Order and organization are paramount to him. He may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or he may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Lawful neutral is the best alignment you can be because it means you are reliable and honorable without being a zealot. However, lawful neutral can be a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society.
Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.
Class:
Druids gain power not by ruling nature but by being at one with it. They hate the unnatural, including aberrations or undead, and destroy them where possible. Druids receive divine spells from nature, not the gods, and can gain an array of powers as they gain experience, including the ability to take the shapes of animals. The weapons and armor of a druid are restricted by their traditional oaths, not simply training. A druid's Wisdom score should be high, as this determines the maximum spell level that they can cast.
Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)
Thursday, May 2, 2013
My old man has cancer. Found out a couple weeks ago. Took me this long to be able to say it without bursting into tears. He's still fighting, but I wait with baited breath every morning to hear him yell at me to wake up. So far so good. Wish I could be more upbeat, but hey....
Man, this blog is getting depressing. I'll have to have my husband post. He's pretty weird.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
It All Started With An Ad for Christian Mingle
I'm a fan of the phrase "Once a cheater, always a cheater." When my friends say "I'm thinking of getting back together with [insert random cheater's name here]." that's the phrase that, at the very least, pops into my head (most of the time, it comes out of my mouth as well).
Today, however, I was brought back to one of my own No-So-Proud moments.... I saw an ad for Christian Mingle - you know, some I'm-Hot-But-Not-In-An-Unattainable-Way guy looking for some secular lovin'. And no, I wasn't searching for that sort of thing... Unless my email knows something I don't know...
Anyway... I considered that I thought this gentleman (I'm assuming, of course) looked like an ex of mine. Mind you, I think this same thing every time I see this same ad. However, today, it brought to mind some things from my past. You see, well, "Hello. My name is Rayanna Deerfox. And I'm a cheater." Everyone, say hello....
Now, before you get all "Oh, Ray, I'm so SHOCKED!" on me, let me explain.... What I consider to be cheating is not often what others would consider cheating, so.... In my particular circumstance, I was split up from my husband, but we weren't officially divorced, when a friend of his - a man, mind you, that I had.. well... wanted... since the day I had met him (but never so much as breathed that fact to anyone, of course) - made a move on me. Now, considering I had lusted for this man (okay, sometimes you have to call a spade a spade) since the moment I laid eyes on him, I was shocked. Pleased, confused, and, yes, guilty. I'm not exactly proud of what I did for the next several months... sneaking around behind our friends backs and things... but regret it? No. Guilty, yes. Regret, never.
Anyway, that affair ended when I eventually met someone special (let's face it... the man in the previous paragraph was not the love of my life). I since wondered, though, whether I had broken my own moral code. Was I now, in fact, "always a cheater"? Considering my feelings on the topic, well...
Flash forward a few years to an evening when my man and I had a pretty bad fight. So bad, in fact, that I decided to have a night on the town... Out of town... With my male friend (an ex-boyfriend)(the guy who looks like the Christian Mingle ad dude)(and who still was able to, well, make me consider carnal needs...). I found out that evening what a good friend this man was. I got a tad tipsy and, living out of town, my friend offered to let me stay on his couch. The more drinks I had, the more flirtatious I was. Until I finally considered the possibility of... making a move on my ex. My friend graciously made no effort to encourage (or discourage, mind you) my flirtations, which brought me to a sobering point of, "what the **** am I doing?!?". I realized, in that moment, that I was not, in fact, "always a cheater". And my male friend was an awesome guy who let me come to that conclusion on my own without making me feel bad about it. Later, I realized, even if I had tried to "make a move", nothing would have happened - my friend is not That Guy. But he let me realize that I wasn't That Girl and that things, eventually, would work out with my beau and regret is something I try to live without.
Today, I look back at the months I spent with That Guy and smile fondly. I still feel a tad guilty, but I don't regret it at all. (*sigh* You wouldn't either...) And looking back on that one drunken evening, I feel like I dodged a bullet, but proved to myself who I WASN'T.
Do you think if I texted my friend, he would understand when I said, "Thank you, Christian Mingle Guy."? Maybe not, but I bet he'd be amused anyway...
Now, to think of something MUCH more amusing to post about next time....
Dueces!!!
Today, however, I was brought back to one of my own No-So-Proud moments.... I saw an ad for Christian Mingle - you know, some I'm-Hot-But-Not-In-An-Unattainable-Way guy looking for some secular lovin'. And no, I wasn't searching for that sort of thing... Unless my email knows something I don't know...
Anyway... I considered that I thought this gentleman (I'm assuming, of course) looked like an ex of mine. Mind you, I think this same thing every time I see this same ad. However, today, it brought to mind some things from my past. You see, well, "Hello. My name is Rayanna Deerfox. And I'm a cheater." Everyone, say hello....
Now, before you get all "Oh, Ray, I'm so SHOCKED!" on me, let me explain.... What I consider to be cheating is not often what others would consider cheating, so.... In my particular circumstance, I was split up from my husband, but we weren't officially divorced, when a friend of his - a man, mind you, that I had.. well... wanted... since the day I had met him (but never so much as breathed that fact to anyone, of course) - made a move on me. Now, considering I had lusted for this man (okay, sometimes you have to call a spade a spade) since the moment I laid eyes on him, I was shocked. Pleased, confused, and, yes, guilty. I'm not exactly proud of what I did for the next several months... sneaking around behind our friends backs and things... but regret it? No. Guilty, yes. Regret, never.
Anyway, that affair ended when I eventually met someone special (let's face it... the man in the previous paragraph was not the love of my life). I since wondered, though, whether I had broken my own moral code. Was I now, in fact, "always a cheater"? Considering my feelings on the topic, well...
Flash forward a few years to an evening when my man and I had a pretty bad fight. So bad, in fact, that I decided to have a night on the town... Out of town... With my male friend (an ex-boyfriend)(the guy who looks like the Christian Mingle ad dude)(and who still was able to, well, make me consider carnal needs...). I found out that evening what a good friend this man was. I got a tad tipsy and, living out of town, my friend offered to let me stay on his couch. The more drinks I had, the more flirtatious I was. Until I finally considered the possibility of... making a move on my ex. My friend graciously made no effort to encourage (or discourage, mind you) my flirtations, which brought me to a sobering point of, "what the **** am I doing?!?". I realized, in that moment, that I was not, in fact, "always a cheater". And my male friend was an awesome guy who let me come to that conclusion on my own without making me feel bad about it. Later, I realized, even if I had tried to "make a move", nothing would have happened - my friend is not That Guy. But he let me realize that I wasn't That Girl and that things, eventually, would work out with my beau and regret is something I try to live without.
Today, I look back at the months I spent with That Guy and smile fondly. I still feel a tad guilty, but I don't regret it at all. (*sigh* You wouldn't either...) And looking back on that one drunken evening, I feel like I dodged a bullet, but proved to myself who I WASN'T.
Do you think if I texted my friend, he would understand when I said, "Thank you, Christian Mingle Guy."? Maybe not, but I bet he'd be amused anyway...
Now, to think of something MUCH more amusing to post about next time....
Dueces!!!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Moving
So excited. We're moving. Finally. Much close to my job. Like, going from an hour and a half commute to a 10 minute commute. WHOOT!
Found a three bedroom split level home with a 2 1/2 car garage and fenced in back yard. Renting it for now, but if we like it we can buy it. Hubby and I will finally be able to spend some alone time. And, should the children decide to do so, we would finally have the room to have them come live with us (hint hint). If nothing else, they will have rooms and their own beds to sleep in when they come to stay with us.
Well, that's all for now. Sorry so short and un-amusing. Laters!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
2012 Update
So.... It's now 2013 and once again I check into my blog to find it's been several months since I last posted. In my defense, it was a really shitty year.
People who know me personally know that we were living with my husband's brother, Sam, who was very ill and awaiting a liver transplant. In June (two years to the date of my father's passing), he lost his battle with bilary artresia. My husband and I have decided that June no longer exists. From here on out, we will have May, then Pre-July, then July.
If that was not bad enough, it took until July to bury my brother-in-law. We scheduled a "last ride" for him from Wausaukee to Menominee where he was to be buried. We had significantly less people on the ride than we thought would have attended. Not only to celebrate Sam's life, but to support my husband. When my sister-in-law arrived at the funeral home, I found out that my 15 year old dog had passed unexpectedly that morning.
August came, and so did my wedding date. At the "reception" (went to dinner with the families), my father-in-law received a call to let him know someone had set fire to his cabin up north. The cabin which had been in the family for generations. Needless to say, it put quite a damper on the celebration.
Things did pick up, though, in September when we had the wedding ceremony and party. The night was a blast. I lasted most of the evening without breaking down. If you had told me when I was a teenager that I would cry at my wedding because my father wasn't there, I would have called you a liar. I'm so glad my father and I repaired our relationship after my teenage years.
In November, my husband was finally told by his doctors that there was nothing more that he could do for him and the workman's comp company decided they would no longer pay for future treatment. Legal proceedings are under way.
That all said, despite it seems that my 2012 was filled with sorrow, I must say it wasn't all bad. I had some really wonderful times with my brother-in-law before he passed. The ride to bury him was quite beautiful. I feel truly blessed by my "new" family. They make me understand how to live life to it's fullest and make me smile more often than I used to.
I was finally able to marry my long-time love, and we had a beautiful ceremony. The day was gorgeous and the evening quite fun. The pig roast was delicious, my aunt provided wonderful catering and a fun and beautiful wedding cake. Our wonderful friends joined us in our celebration and we partied late into the night. I will never forget finding Liz passed out on the toilet. And then seeing her several minutes later with a drink in her hand and a smile on her face.
Birthday and holiday celebrations have allowed me to spend some great times with my family. And reminded me that family doesn't always mean blood.
I am a very lucky and fortunate woman. 2013 promises to be a wonderful year. I have transferred to a different job in my company which is challenging as well as fulfilling. The pay doesn't hurt either. I hope to move closer to my job this year, though, as the hour and half commute each way is killing me (both in sleep and gas money). We have a lot of wonderful things to look forward this year.
Happy New Year, all! I hope your 2013 is wonderful and prosperous.
- The ever-absent Ray
People who know me personally know that we were living with my husband's brother, Sam, who was very ill and awaiting a liver transplant. In June (two years to the date of my father's passing), he lost his battle with bilary artresia. My husband and I have decided that June no longer exists. From here on out, we will have May, then Pre-July, then July.
If that was not bad enough, it took until July to bury my brother-in-law. We scheduled a "last ride" for him from Wausaukee to Menominee where he was to be buried. We had significantly less people on the ride than we thought would have attended. Not only to celebrate Sam's life, but to support my husband. When my sister-in-law arrived at the funeral home, I found out that my 15 year old dog had passed unexpectedly that morning.
August came, and so did my wedding date. At the "reception" (went to dinner with the families), my father-in-law received a call to let him know someone had set fire to his cabin up north. The cabin which had been in the family for generations. Needless to say, it put quite a damper on the celebration.
Things did pick up, though, in September when we had the wedding ceremony and party. The night was a blast. I lasted most of the evening without breaking down. If you had told me when I was a teenager that I would cry at my wedding because my father wasn't there, I would have called you a liar. I'm so glad my father and I repaired our relationship after my teenage years.
In November, my husband was finally told by his doctors that there was nothing more that he could do for him and the workman's comp company decided they would no longer pay for future treatment. Legal proceedings are under way.
That all said, despite it seems that my 2012 was filled with sorrow, I must say it wasn't all bad. I had some really wonderful times with my brother-in-law before he passed. The ride to bury him was quite beautiful. I feel truly blessed by my "new" family. They make me understand how to live life to it's fullest and make me smile more often than I used to.
I was finally able to marry my long-time love, and we had a beautiful ceremony. The day was gorgeous and the evening quite fun. The pig roast was delicious, my aunt provided wonderful catering and a fun and beautiful wedding cake. Our wonderful friends joined us in our celebration and we partied late into the night. I will never forget finding Liz passed out on the toilet. And then seeing her several minutes later with a drink in her hand and a smile on her face.
Birthday and holiday celebrations have allowed me to spend some great times with my family. And reminded me that family doesn't always mean blood.
I am a very lucky and fortunate woman. 2013 promises to be a wonderful year. I have transferred to a different job in my company which is challenging as well as fulfilling. The pay doesn't hurt either. I hope to move closer to my job this year, though, as the hour and half commute each way is killing me (both in sleep and gas money). We have a lot of wonderful things to look forward this year.
Happy New Year, all! I hope your 2013 is wonderful and prosperous.
- The ever-absent Ray
Friday, March 16, 2012
Magic Truck
During my morning commute today, I looked ahead to see a shiny tanker truck in front of me, a small ways off. It had a company name logo and with the color and type of lettering, from afar, I could have sworn it said "Magic: The Gathering". The delusions started early today....
So I was wondering what a Magic: The Gathering tanker truck would be hauling. Liquid magic, of course. I then thought to myself, "Wow. Would I wouldn't give to see a liquid magic spill..... From afar, of course. No one wants to be particularly near a liquid magic spill." I was still pondering what this would look like as I got closer to the tanker in question.
I then found that the tanker was not, of course a Magic: The Gathering liquid magic truck. It was some other normal company. Probably hauling something completely mundane. *sigh*
However, when I got right up to it, I noticed the tanker itself was shiny metal, reflecting the surroundings, but because of the angles the tank itself produced, it appeared the reflection showed the tanker was on the road all by itself. I, of course, pulled in behind the tanker and proceeded to pretend like I was invisible for a good portion of the rest of the way to work.
Maybe it was a magic truck after all.... :D
Who needs medication, when you've got my kind of imagination?
So I was wondering what a Magic: The Gathering tanker truck would be hauling. Liquid magic, of course. I then thought to myself, "Wow. Would I wouldn't give to see a liquid magic spill..... From afar, of course. No one wants to be particularly near a liquid magic spill." I was still pondering what this would look like as I got closer to the tanker in question.
I then found that the tanker was not, of course a Magic: The Gathering liquid magic truck. It was some other normal company. Probably hauling something completely mundane. *sigh*
However, when I got right up to it, I noticed the tanker itself was shiny metal, reflecting the surroundings, but because of the angles the tank itself produced, it appeared the reflection showed the tanker was on the road all by itself. I, of course, pulled in behind the tanker and proceeded to pretend like I was invisible for a good portion of the rest of the way to work.
Maybe it was a magic truck after all.... :D
Who needs medication, when you've got my kind of imagination?
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Words Are Just Words, People Give Them Meaning
As I've stated a number of times before, I'm less than politically correct. I try not to be prejudicial or stereotypical, but I don't always keep up on the latest trend of what people want to be called. Recently, a friend posted a video about the usage of the word "retard" which brought to mind a story from my teenage years...
I was out in a public place (don't remember where) with a friend of mine and I don't even remember what it was we were specifically talking about, but I do remember looking at my friend and saying, "Well, that's retarded." A woman behind me got all offended and said to me, "I have a daughter that's retarded." Now, of course, I wasn't thinking, so I had no idea what had prompted the woman to share this bit of personal information or to be so offended about it, so I responded with, "Um.... That's nice." It wasn't until much later that I realized what I had actually said to make the woman upset.
The fact of the matter is, words take on the meaning people give them. I have been called a number of things in my lifetime, and not all are pleasant (I know, you're thinking, "No! Not YOU, Ray!"). I had kids in Junior High School call me "Cheater" because they didn't think I could possibly be as smart as I was. Back then, I was upset by this and considered it bullying. I stopped going to school because I didn't want to be around these people. My father got wind of it and, well, made it go away. ("Sarah? I wonder if that could be Chuck's daughter....") (There ARE benefits to living in a smaller city where people know each other.) Now, when I look back on that I think "Cheater" was a compliment. They were calling me smart. See? The word itself didn't change. The actions didn't change. What did? My perception of it and the meaning I gave to the word.
Bottom line is, I'm not defending people who use words in a derogatory fashion. I'm not encouraging use of taboo words to describe people. But I am saying that before you get offended by a word someone else says, consider how your perception of what is being said is affecting the meaning.
And now I'll step off my soap box...
Today's PSA is brought to you by the letter "F".... The letter "F", without you, I could only give a uck.
I was out in a public place (don't remember where) with a friend of mine and I don't even remember what it was we were specifically talking about, but I do remember looking at my friend and saying, "Well, that's retarded." A woman behind me got all offended and said to me, "I have a daughter that's retarded." Now, of course, I wasn't thinking, so I had no idea what had prompted the woman to share this bit of personal information or to be so offended about it, so I responded with, "Um.... That's nice." It wasn't until much later that I realized what I had actually said to make the woman upset.
The fact of the matter is, words take on the meaning people give them. I have been called a number of things in my lifetime, and not all are pleasant (I know, you're thinking, "No! Not YOU, Ray!"). I had kids in Junior High School call me "Cheater" because they didn't think I could possibly be as smart as I was. Back then, I was upset by this and considered it bullying. I stopped going to school because I didn't want to be around these people. My father got wind of it and, well, made it go away. ("Sarah? I wonder if that could be Chuck's daughter....") (There ARE benefits to living in a smaller city where people know each other.) Now, when I look back on that I think "Cheater" was a compliment. They were calling me smart. See? The word itself didn't change. The actions didn't change. What did? My perception of it and the meaning I gave to the word.
Bottom line is, I'm not defending people who use words in a derogatory fashion. I'm not encouraging use of taboo words to describe people. But I am saying that before you get offended by a word someone else says, consider how your perception of what is being said is affecting the meaning.
And now I'll step off my soap box...
Today's PSA is brought to you by the letter "F".... The letter "F", without you, I could only give a uck.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Grandma and the Kiwi
You know how people always say you turn into your parents? Well, I seem to be skipping a generation. I never really feared turning into my parents cuz I always thought they were pretty nifty (in their own right). However, the older I get, the more I realize I'm turning, not into my mother, but my grandmother.
What makes this worse is that while my grandmother was alive.... I didn't think she was a very good person. However, what I realize now is that there were things about my grandmother that I didn't understand then because I wasn't old enough to.
The thing that bothered me most about my grandmother was how she treated the grandchildren of her husband, my (technically) step-grandfather. You see, my grandfather passed away before I was born. My grandmother remarried a wonderful man who had children and grandchildren of his own. So although technically my mother was an only child, I have lots of cousins on my mother's side. One of which is my own age.
When it came to gift giving in my grandmother's household, there was definitely a distinction on whose child or grandchild the recipient was. I remember one year (about 5th or 6th grade) my cousin coming to up to me and asking me what Grandma had given me for Christmas. I think I had gotten some clothes and toys and even some money. I asked my cousin what she had gotten. Footed pajamas. She was less than thrilled.
I once asked about this, because it really upset me that, even though technically I was on the winning side of this argument, my cousins weren't treated the same as I or my brother. I was told "Grandpa doesn't have as much money as Grandma." I never understood this statement. And I guess I always kind of held it against her.
After my grandmother passed, I did some pretty heavy reflection. I realized that, despite the inequality, my grandmother was actually a very loving, giving person. I also realized that when I had gone to my grandmother's house for holidays, we were always there, but my cousins weren't. And a lot of the time, my grandmother and grandfather were a bit upset about the fact that they weren't there. It wasn't, however, until relatively recently that I realized just how wrong I was about my grandmother.
My mother had found some old photos. She was looking at them and showing them to me and she recalled a story I had never, in all my 36 years, heard. She told me how, when my grandfather had passed away, my grandmother didn't leave the house for a full year. Which was strange, since my grandmother had been a very social person until my grandfather passed. Eventually, however, my mother convinced my grandmother to start leaving the house, at least a little bit, and realize there was still life left to live without my grandfather.
So my grandmother began going to a local bar which was tended by a woman who, apparently, had fancied herself to be a bit of a matchmaker. The woman asked my grandmother about herself and eventually told my grandmother she had a gentleman she'd like my grandmother to meet. This gentleman ended up being the man I knew to be Grandpa. My grandmother agreed to meet with him and after a couple of dates, introduced him to my mother. The next day, apparently, my grandmother had excitedly called my mother to see what she thought of this new beau.
My mother told my grandmother she thought he was very nice. My grandmother then said, "He wants to marry me." My mother, being the young know-it-all that all 20-somethings are, told my grandmother, "Ma, you're in your 40's. What are you waiting for?" So they were married within a few months of meeting each other. They were married for 30-some years when my grandmother passed away.
As my mother was telling me this, she said, "You know, your Grandpa was a lonely man before he met Ma. He had lost his wife. And his kids never visited. He just wanted someone to live his life with. And he found it in Ma." In that moment, I finally understood why my grandmother made such a distinction between my Grandpa's kids and grandchildren and my mother and our family. And I felt like such shit for being as angry with my grandmother as I had been most of my life and sad that she was no longer around to apologize to.
At this point, you're probably wondering.... What the HECK does all of that have to do with a kiwi? Nothing.
THE KIWI:
I was a teenager, probably about 16, 17, maybe even 18. Every time we went to visit my Grandma's house, she was always getting up, asking if we wanted something to drink, eat, eat or eat. One day, she was being particularly obnoxious, and wouldn't let up. The conversation went something like this:
Grandma: Do you want something to drink?
Me: No.
Grandma: How about something to eat?
Me: No. I'm not hungry, Grandma.
Grandma: Are you sure? I've got lots of stuff.
Me: I'm fine, Grandma. Thanks.
Grandma: Are you sure I can't get you ANYTHING? What do you want? Whatever you want, I'll bet I've got it. Go ahead. Name anything.
I thought about this for a moment, trying to think of something she couldn't, wouldn't, POSSIBLY have.
Me: A kiwi.
Grandma: I've got one of those!!!!
She went in her refrigerator and sure as shit, she had a kiwi. Just one. On a plate. Fresh as can be. It was like freaking magic.
My grandmother looked at me and said, "I don't even know why I have this. I've never tried kiwi before. What does it taste like?"
Dumbfounded, I looked at my grandmother and said, "I have no idea. I've never had one either. I was kidding."
I then spent the next 1/2 hour explaining to my grandmother that I didn't, in fact, actually want a kiwi. That I never in a million years had expected her to have a kiwi. And no, I really didn't want the freaking kiwi.
I've always wondered what happened to the kiwi.....
And you know what else? I've still never eaten kiwi. I don't think my grandmother ever did either.
Tonight my mother told me my grandfather died 42 years ago. On December 10th. She went on about how he would have loved us kids. I don't know.... I think my grandmother did enough loving for them both. And my Grandpa, he wasn't too shabby himself.
I was very lucky. I have a wonderful family. Even if I didn't realize it at the time. The point is this..... a) Don't hold a grudge about something you don't understand; b) Tell your family you love them even if you don't think you mean it at the time; and c) Never... ever... ask for a kiwi if you don't really want one.
What makes this worse is that while my grandmother was alive.... I didn't think she was a very good person. However, what I realize now is that there were things about my grandmother that I didn't understand then because I wasn't old enough to.
The thing that bothered me most about my grandmother was how she treated the grandchildren of her husband, my (technically) step-grandfather. You see, my grandfather passed away before I was born. My grandmother remarried a wonderful man who had children and grandchildren of his own. So although technically my mother was an only child, I have lots of cousins on my mother's side. One of which is my own age.
When it came to gift giving in my grandmother's household, there was definitely a distinction on whose child or grandchild the recipient was. I remember one year (about 5th or 6th grade) my cousin coming to up to me and asking me what Grandma had given me for Christmas. I think I had gotten some clothes and toys and even some money. I asked my cousin what she had gotten. Footed pajamas. She was less than thrilled.
I once asked about this, because it really upset me that, even though technically I was on the winning side of this argument, my cousins weren't treated the same as I or my brother. I was told "Grandpa doesn't have as much money as Grandma." I never understood this statement. And I guess I always kind of held it against her.
After my grandmother passed, I did some pretty heavy reflection. I realized that, despite the inequality, my grandmother was actually a very loving, giving person. I also realized that when I had gone to my grandmother's house for holidays, we were always there, but my cousins weren't. And a lot of the time, my grandmother and grandfather were a bit upset about the fact that they weren't there. It wasn't, however, until relatively recently that I realized just how wrong I was about my grandmother.
My mother had found some old photos. She was looking at them and showing them to me and she recalled a story I had never, in all my 36 years, heard. She told me how, when my grandfather had passed away, my grandmother didn't leave the house for a full year. Which was strange, since my grandmother had been a very social person until my grandfather passed. Eventually, however, my mother convinced my grandmother to start leaving the house, at least a little bit, and realize there was still life left to live without my grandfather.
So my grandmother began going to a local bar which was tended by a woman who, apparently, had fancied herself to be a bit of a matchmaker. The woman asked my grandmother about herself and eventually told my grandmother she had a gentleman she'd like my grandmother to meet. This gentleman ended up being the man I knew to be Grandpa. My grandmother agreed to meet with him and after a couple of dates, introduced him to my mother. The next day, apparently, my grandmother had excitedly called my mother to see what she thought of this new beau.
My mother told my grandmother she thought he was very nice. My grandmother then said, "He wants to marry me." My mother, being the young know-it-all that all 20-somethings are, told my grandmother, "Ma, you're in your 40's. What are you waiting for?" So they were married within a few months of meeting each other. They were married for 30-some years when my grandmother passed away.
As my mother was telling me this, she said, "You know, your Grandpa was a lonely man before he met Ma. He had lost his wife. And his kids never visited. He just wanted someone to live his life with. And he found it in Ma." In that moment, I finally understood why my grandmother made such a distinction between my Grandpa's kids and grandchildren and my mother and our family. And I felt like such shit for being as angry with my grandmother as I had been most of my life and sad that she was no longer around to apologize to.
At this point, you're probably wondering.... What the HECK does all of that have to do with a kiwi? Nothing.
THE KIWI:
I was a teenager, probably about 16, 17, maybe even 18. Every time we went to visit my Grandma's house, she was always getting up, asking if we wanted something to drink, eat, eat or eat. One day, she was being particularly obnoxious, and wouldn't let up. The conversation went something like this:
Grandma: Do you want something to drink?
Me: No.
Grandma: How about something to eat?
Me: No. I'm not hungry, Grandma.
Grandma: Are you sure? I've got lots of stuff.
Me: I'm fine, Grandma. Thanks.
Grandma: Are you sure I can't get you ANYTHING? What do you want? Whatever you want, I'll bet I've got it. Go ahead. Name anything.
I thought about this for a moment, trying to think of something she couldn't, wouldn't, POSSIBLY have.
Me: A kiwi.
Grandma: I've got one of those!!!!
She went in her refrigerator and sure as shit, she had a kiwi. Just one. On a plate. Fresh as can be. It was like freaking magic.
My grandmother looked at me and said, "I don't even know why I have this. I've never tried kiwi before. What does it taste like?"
Dumbfounded, I looked at my grandmother and said, "I have no idea. I've never had one either. I was kidding."
I then spent the next 1/2 hour explaining to my grandmother that I didn't, in fact, actually want a kiwi. That I never in a million years had expected her to have a kiwi. And no, I really didn't want the freaking kiwi.
I've always wondered what happened to the kiwi.....
And you know what else? I've still never eaten kiwi. I don't think my grandmother ever did either.
Tonight my mother told me my grandfather died 42 years ago. On December 10th. She went on about how he would have loved us kids. I don't know.... I think my grandmother did enough loving for them both. And my Grandpa, he wasn't too shabby himself.
I was very lucky. I have a wonderful family. Even if I didn't realize it at the time. The point is this..... a) Don't hold a grudge about something you don't understand; b) Tell your family you love them even if you don't think you mean it at the time; and c) Never... ever... ask for a kiwi if you don't really want one.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Diet Window not available in wintertime
You know, I'm so completely and utterly politically correct, that I would never call someone a "Window Licker"..... to their face.
Ex-Roommie reminded me of a story from a few months back, thought I'd share:
It was shortly after my neck surgery and ex-roommie was driving me somewhere. I was all hopped up on pain pills and making my usual snarky commentary. When I went to pretend to lick the windows, I realized there was something wrong.... The window was rolled down. Without missing a beat, I looked at ex-roommie and said, "Tastes different. Must be diet window."
This story was brought back to mind by another story.....
Went to my brother's house this past weekend to celebrate the nephew's birthday. SIL was going on about how she got one of those blow-up Frosty The Snowman's for the the front yard for her birthday. So naturally, I said, "As long as it doesn't end up like the one I pass every day on my way to work. I THINK it's supposed to be a football player in a Packer uniform, but it's a bit wilted and the way it's bent over and flopping around, now it just looks like a mentally deficient person having a head-butting fight with the ground and losing." Nobody laughed. My SIL's family doesn't have my sense of humor.
Ex-Roommie reminded me of a story from a few months back, thought I'd share:
It was shortly after my neck surgery and ex-roommie was driving me somewhere. I was all hopped up on pain pills and making my usual snarky commentary. When I went to pretend to lick the windows, I realized there was something wrong.... The window was rolled down. Without missing a beat, I looked at ex-roommie and said, "Tastes different. Must be diet window."
This story was brought back to mind by another story.....
Went to my brother's house this past weekend to celebrate the nephew's birthday. SIL was going on about how she got one of those blow-up Frosty The Snowman's for the the front yard for her birthday. So naturally, I said, "As long as it doesn't end up like the one I pass every day on my way to work. I THINK it's supposed to be a football player in a Packer uniform, but it's a bit wilted and the way it's bent over and flopping around, now it just looks like a mentally deficient person having a head-butting fight with the ground and losing." Nobody laughed. My SIL's family doesn't have my sense of humor.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
That's right, y'all. If any of you pay attention, you'll notice that I've updated my profile blip. Recent medical issues and the upcoming impending doom, I mean marriage, have caused financial issues which led to the fiance and I moving in with his sister and uncle.
Fortunately, the house is big. Unfortunately, that meant moving two complete apartments into .... a bedroom.
Ah well. Seems to be working out so far.
Only bad bit was Mr. and Mrs. Landlord decided to oust roommie. Which makes Ray a sad gal. But roommie managed to find something else right away and still stops by on a regular basis, so it's all good. (or as good as can be, anyway)
So it'll be a bit while I situate myself, but I'm hoping to be on more often as the wedding nears. Lots of fun, joy and rapture. Wish me luck!
Fortunately, the house is big. Unfortunately, that meant moving two complete apartments into .... a bedroom.
Ah well. Seems to be working out so far.
Only bad bit was Mr. and Mrs. Landlord decided to oust roommie. Which makes Ray a sad gal. But roommie managed to find something else right away and still stops by on a regular basis, so it's all good. (or as good as can be, anyway)
So it'll be a bit while I situate myself, but I'm hoping to be on more often as the wedding nears. Lots of fun, joy and rapture. Wish me luck!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Insurance Companies Suck
Okay, so in one of my more recent posts, I gave all y'all the update on my surgery and told you I'd be following up with Dr. Feelgood mid-July. Well, since it's August, you can bet your sweet bippy I've seen the doc. I'm not back to work yet, but am scheduled to do so next Monday. Why the delay, you ask?
Well, when I saw the doc, I hadn't driven in a few months (when I need to drive over an hour each way to work), couldn't fully turn my head and was still having difficulties sleeping resulting in dizziness, disorientation, concentration issues and essentially total memory failure. To this, my doctor stated although there was no "bio-mechanical" reason for me not to work (aka the surgery worked and the fusion was healing on schedule), he gave me another 3 1/2 weeks off of work to get me back used to driving, allow me to work on being able to turn my head and try to get some sleep with the new sleeping pills he described.
So I jumped through all the hoops, made more phone calls than I feel I should have had to to get the insurance company what they needed, and what do I get? 2 1/2 weeks AFTER my appointment, I get a call telling me my extension was denied. Meaning no pay (that's $0 folks) for 3 1/2 weeks and the possibility I wouldn't have a job to go back to.
Hysterics ensued. I made a few phone calls (Smiley, Mom, HR...) and managed to calm down. Mom agrees to help. HR says my job's not in jeopardy. HR gives me info to appeal the decision.
That was last week. Two days ago, I receive an email from HR stating that as of the date of my appointment (two and a half weeks ago, mind you), I had 48 hours left of FMLA. 48 hours. Really? Nice.
Another phone call to HR informs me that although it is correct that the 48 remaining hours have technically expired, they have not been applied. To apply these hours, I need to have my doctor fill out more forms. Once HR has these forms, they'll apply the 48 hours and then tell my boss to post my position. So TECHNICALLY, my job's not in jeopardy. Yet. Until they get the forms back. And HR would need to have filled my position before I go back to work on Monday for it to actually be in jeopardy.
Does this make any sense to ANYONE? How is this encouraging me to get this paperwork back in a timely manner? And, for that matter, what part of I don't know where I am half the time cuz I haven't truly slept in a few months and can barely turn my head does not affect my ability to do my job? Okay, so TECHNICALLY my job description does not specifically state that it is required for me to know who or where I am. But I'm thinking the Department of the Treasury might feel otherwise. (No, I don't work for the Department of the Treasury, but what I do affects things that are monitored on a wide scale by the Department of the Treasury.)
But this has me wondering.... What positions could a person hold who didn't always know who they were or where they were (and other basic knowledge items along the same lines)? Stamp Licker? Professional Area Rug? Silly Putty Tester? Oh! I know! Short Term Disability Case Manager! This explains a lot....
Well, when I saw the doc, I hadn't driven in a few months (when I need to drive over an hour each way to work), couldn't fully turn my head and was still having difficulties sleeping resulting in dizziness, disorientation, concentration issues and essentially total memory failure. To this, my doctor stated although there was no "bio-mechanical" reason for me not to work (aka the surgery worked and the fusion was healing on schedule), he gave me another 3 1/2 weeks off of work to get me back used to driving, allow me to work on being able to turn my head and try to get some sleep with the new sleeping pills he described.
So I jumped through all the hoops, made more phone calls than I feel I should have had to to get the insurance company what they needed, and what do I get? 2 1/2 weeks AFTER my appointment, I get a call telling me my extension was denied. Meaning no pay (that's $0 folks) for 3 1/2 weeks and the possibility I wouldn't have a job to go back to.
Hysterics ensued. I made a few phone calls (Smiley, Mom, HR...) and managed to calm down. Mom agrees to help. HR says my job's not in jeopardy. HR gives me info to appeal the decision.
That was last week. Two days ago, I receive an email from HR stating that as of the date of my appointment (two and a half weeks ago, mind you), I had 48 hours left of FMLA. 48 hours. Really? Nice.
Another phone call to HR informs me that although it is correct that the 48 remaining hours have technically expired, they have not been applied. To apply these hours, I need to have my doctor fill out more forms. Once HR has these forms, they'll apply the 48 hours and then tell my boss to post my position. So TECHNICALLY, my job's not in jeopardy. Yet. Until they get the forms back. And HR would need to have filled my position before I go back to work on Monday for it to actually be in jeopardy.
Does this make any sense to ANYONE? How is this encouraging me to get this paperwork back in a timely manner? And, for that matter, what part of I don't know where I am half the time cuz I haven't truly slept in a few months and can barely turn my head does not affect my ability to do my job? Okay, so TECHNICALLY my job description does not specifically state that it is required for me to know who or where I am. But I'm thinking the Department of the Treasury might feel otherwise. (No, I don't work for the Department of the Treasury, but what I do affects things that are monitored on a wide scale by the Department of the Treasury.)
But this has me wondering.... What positions could a person hold who didn't always know who they were or where they were (and other basic knowledge items along the same lines)? Stamp Licker? Professional Area Rug? Silly Putty Tester? Oh! I know! Short Term Disability Case Manager! This explains a lot....
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Tweet Tweet
Hey y'all.... For some strange reason, I've decided to open a Twitter account. Feel free to follow me on Twitter, if you feel like it. Can't guarantee I'll post a lot, but since I can do so from my phone.... well, I'm not really without my phone most of the time. :P
Follow @RayannaDeerfox
Follow @RayannaDeerfox
Monday, June 27, 2011
Post Surgery
Just realized that I haven't posted to my blog since the day before my surgery. Figured I should give everyone an update.
The surgery went well, and it seems they only had to fuse two of the vertebrae in my neck (doc was thinking he might have to fuse three). From the time I can remember being conscious after the surgery, the pain in my arm has been gone. Would I do it again? Heck yah.
Stayed in the hospital overnight. Left the next morning. Found out hospital jello at 2 am rocks. Invented a new name for myself. Hospital staff was very friendly and surprisingly helpful.
Okay.... new name.... I'll expand. Every time the nurse/staff came in to do something (put in IV, give me meds, take me to the bathroom, etc....), they had to ask me to verify my name and date of birth. I got tired of this before they even had the IV in. So when the gal came in to start my IV and asked me to verify my name as she was walking through the door, I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Bob." My mother started laughing, and thankfully, so did the gal. Who then proceeded to put in the IV. Funny, she never asked me to verify my real name and date of birth. As she put in the IV, I decided I needed a last name to go with my new first name. I decided my last name should be Notmyname. So my new fake name is Bob Notmyname. I find it amusing.
So anyway, was discharged from the hospital June 3rd and went home to Smiley. Made plans to stay with Mom the next week so I could actually relax and rest. Smiley took me up to Mom's Sunday night. I was kinda nervous about this initially since for the most part, I can only take my family in small doses and here I was willingly subjecting myself to my mother for almost a week.
But I was pleasantly surprised. I had a really good time spending those days with my mother. I got to rest like I needed to, and Mom and I took care of each other as best we could. I also got to visit with family friends who I hadn't seen in a few years who came to visit while I was there. The only problem I had was trying to sleep.
I tried everything. I slept in a recliner. I slept with the collar on. I slept with the collar off. I slept in the bed (which was weird, cuz I slept in my father's bed.... and it was coming up on the one year anniversary of his death). The bed is one of those adjustable beds, and I swear I tried every setting on that bed to try to sleep. My poor mother was so patient and didn't complain. I finally called my doctor who prescribed me Valium to try to help me sleep. The Valium worked the first day (which I slept for almost 24 hrs straight), but hasn't really helped since. :(
But when it came down to it, I almost didn't want to go home. As much as I missed Smiley, Jen, Ebony, Harley, Loki and Shoe.... It was nice not having to worry about feeding the animals, has the dog had her medicine, will I find peace and quiet to sleep when I am actually able to, and all the other inconveniences of daily life.
Since I've been home, there's been daily progress. But unfortunately, I still can't go a full day without pain medicine. I'm down to two a day, but that's still more than I'd like (aka 0). I can turn my head (not all the way, and definitely not quickly), bumps in the road while in a car aren't hurting as bad, and I can go most days without the collar (although I still sleep with the collar to make sure I don't wrench my neck while sleeping).
I'm scheduled to meet with the doctor mid-July to see my progress. At this point, if I had to see the doctor tomorrow, I wouldn't say I'm ready to go back to work. But I'm hoping within the next two weeks or so, I'll see more progress and will be okay'd to return to work. But I'm not rushing myself. Despite the fact that it was labeled as "outpatient surgery", it's still major surgery, still a spine fusion, and I'm not going to take a light attitude and push myself too fast, cuz that won't help me.
Thank you to everyone who wished me well and has kept me in their thoughts. Hopefully, I'll be back to my normal self soon. But I gotta say, Ray on narcotics can be fun.... :P
Will update again soon!
The surgery went well, and it seems they only had to fuse two of the vertebrae in my neck (doc was thinking he might have to fuse three). From the time I can remember being conscious after the surgery, the pain in my arm has been gone. Would I do it again? Heck yah.
Stayed in the hospital overnight. Left the next morning. Found out hospital jello at 2 am rocks. Invented a new name for myself. Hospital staff was very friendly and surprisingly helpful.
Okay.... new name.... I'll expand. Every time the nurse/staff came in to do something (put in IV, give me meds, take me to the bathroom, etc....), they had to ask me to verify my name and date of birth. I got tired of this before they even had the IV in. So when the gal came in to start my IV and asked me to verify my name as she was walking through the door, I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Bob." My mother started laughing, and thankfully, so did the gal. Who then proceeded to put in the IV. Funny, she never asked me to verify my real name and date of birth. As she put in the IV, I decided I needed a last name to go with my new first name. I decided my last name should be Notmyname. So my new fake name is Bob Notmyname. I find it amusing.
So anyway, was discharged from the hospital June 3rd and went home to Smiley. Made plans to stay with Mom the next week so I could actually relax and rest. Smiley took me up to Mom's Sunday night. I was kinda nervous about this initially since for the most part, I can only take my family in small doses and here I was willingly subjecting myself to my mother for almost a week.
But I was pleasantly surprised. I had a really good time spending those days with my mother. I got to rest like I needed to, and Mom and I took care of each other as best we could. I also got to visit with family friends who I hadn't seen in a few years who came to visit while I was there. The only problem I had was trying to sleep.
I tried everything. I slept in a recliner. I slept with the collar on. I slept with the collar off. I slept in the bed (which was weird, cuz I slept in my father's bed.... and it was coming up on the one year anniversary of his death). The bed is one of those adjustable beds, and I swear I tried every setting on that bed to try to sleep. My poor mother was so patient and didn't complain. I finally called my doctor who prescribed me Valium to try to help me sleep. The Valium worked the first day (which I slept for almost 24 hrs straight), but hasn't really helped since. :(
But when it came down to it, I almost didn't want to go home. As much as I missed Smiley, Jen, Ebony, Harley, Loki and Shoe.... It was nice not having to worry about feeding the animals, has the dog had her medicine, will I find peace and quiet to sleep when I am actually able to, and all the other inconveniences of daily life.
Since I've been home, there's been daily progress. But unfortunately, I still can't go a full day without pain medicine. I'm down to two a day, but that's still more than I'd like (aka 0). I can turn my head (not all the way, and definitely not quickly), bumps in the road while in a car aren't hurting as bad, and I can go most days without the collar (although I still sleep with the collar to make sure I don't wrench my neck while sleeping).
I'm scheduled to meet with the doctor mid-July to see my progress. At this point, if I had to see the doctor tomorrow, I wouldn't say I'm ready to go back to work. But I'm hoping within the next two weeks or so, I'll see more progress and will be okay'd to return to work. But I'm not rushing myself. Despite the fact that it was labeled as "outpatient surgery", it's still major surgery, still a spine fusion, and I'm not going to take a light attitude and push myself too fast, cuz that won't help me.
Thank you to everyone who wished me well and has kept me in their thoughts. Hopefully, I'll be back to my normal self soon. But I gotta say, Ray on narcotics can be fun.... :P
Will update again soon!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Under the Knife
Well, tomorrow morning I go under the knife again. And I'm starting to freak out. For the second time in my life, the words "spine" and "surgery" have appeared in the same sentence.
They tell me this surgery will be better than the other, but that doesn't make me feel much better. At least the drugs should be good.
Top Ten Reasons to Look Forward to Spine Surgery:
10. People don't look at you as funny when you park in a handicap stall while wearing appliances.
9. No working for at least another six weeks.
8. Quality time with my family.
7. Popping pills at dinnertime is suddenly socially acceptable.
6. I think I'll look really cool in a collar.
5. No one will yell at me for going out in public in sweatpants.
4. Pain medication may make daytime TV entertaining.
3. Two words: hospital food.
2. People don't make you feel bad for sleeping all day.
and the # 1 reason to look forward to spine surgery...
1. Someone may be able to convince my fiance to buy me flowers.
Okay, well.... I guess I feel better now....
Wish me luck, all!
They tell me this surgery will be better than the other, but that doesn't make me feel much better. At least the drugs should be good.
Top Ten Reasons to Look Forward to Spine Surgery:
10. People don't look at you as funny when you park in a handicap stall while wearing appliances.
9. No working for at least another six weeks.
8. Quality time with my family.
7. Popping pills at dinnertime is suddenly socially acceptable.
6. I think I'll look really cool in a collar.
5. No one will yell at me for going out in public in sweatpants.
4. Pain medication may make daytime TV entertaining.
3. Two words: hospital food.
2. People don't make you feel bad for sleeping all day.
and the # 1 reason to look forward to spine surgery...
1. Someone may be able to convince my fiance to buy me flowers.
Okay, well.... I guess I feel better now....
Wish me luck, all!
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