Friday, September 28, 2007
Holy CHRIST! I didn't know they had joints in their necks like that. Makes you just wanna say, "Walk away dude! Just walk. a. way." Which they do...eventually. Wonder what got 'em all pissed off like that. I always thought giraffes were such gentle creatures, too. Found courtesy of A of G. Which, if you don't read already, ya should.
I called the fiance a little while ago and asked him to please come down to have lunch with me, and then we're going to the container store to find containers. For all the crap. Because I'm TIRED OF IT!!!
I hate having to search for spices or medicine on our medicine/spice shelf. I hate how cluttered the next shelf is with all of our canned goods and soups and puddings and such. And I hate, hate, HATE how cluttered the corner of the sink is underneath it all.
So. Even though I really don't have time for it this weekend, I'm cleaning it all out, dammit! Time to purge...
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Got 'em in black. They are tres, tres cute, and I've been getting comments on them all day. Even got one just now as I walked back to my desk from the restroom...one of my coworkers was getting on the elevator and she said, "I saw those shoes you were wearing earlier...very cute!" The operative part of that sentence being, "...wearing earlier..." as I am currently wearing some cushy flip-flops I keep under my desk at work for occassions like these. (i.e. the breaking-in-new-cute-shoes occassions.) Had I not walked around so much on my first day in them, they wouldn't have done half the damage they did. But I had to walk a lot, so I screwed myself, is the thing. I'll put them back on before I head home.
The flip-flops go pretty well with the rest of my craptastic outfit, though. I have an adorable skirt on, along with my fave new cardigan from Anthropologie, but the shirt I grabbed to wear under the cardigan isn't as tight as it used to be. Yes, this is a good thing in the long run, but in the short run, I look like I'm wearing an oversized crappy t-shirt under my sweater...and it happens to be fraying at the bottom, too. Joy. It gets thrown out when I get home, dammit. Anyway, my point is that I started out feeling all cute, and I've devolved into this nasty-ass looking frump, and I don't like it. (Did I mention that I forgot to pack my hairspray into my gym bag last night? Yeah, so add limp hair to that mix, and you've got quite a treat on your hands!)
I ordered these in black as well:
They are also super-cute, and will look great with tights and a skirt once things cool down a bit more.
Got these in black leather (so they look like the solid-colored ones at the top of the photo):
And holy crap, they are awesome-looking on the foot! I might try wearing them tomorrow...we'll see how much damage I really want to do to my feet this week. I have a concert to go to tomorrow night, so I don't really want to destroy my feet all day long before I have to go walk around a bunch more later that night.
Ok, I think that's enough torture for the men who read this blog. I'll try to find something more interesting to blog about later or tomorrow or something. Perhaps on the story I saw this morning on the news about Sprint employees being offered Billy Joel tickets prior to the tickets even going on sale, which was followed up later in the program by the morning news crew giving away tickets to the same concert! Ummm, okeydoke. Hypocrisy is just a mite confusing to me, is all...
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Lime juice, tahini, tamari (soy beans, whole wheat, sea salt), water, brown sugar, sesame oil, roasted red pepper, ginger, celery, onion, garlic, sesame seeds, herbs, spices, xanthan gum
Ok, so we all know that xantham gum is a staple in all American diets anyway, so I don't mind that so much. It appears to be fermented sugar of some sort, and while I'm not too clear on what it actually does to food, since it's the last ingredient in a list of ingredients I CAN identify, I'm ok with it, really.
The dressing I currently covet also only boasts 20 calories and 1 gram of fat (which is unsaturated) per 1 tablespoon. The fat likely comes from the sesame oil and the tahini. But as those are the two things that make this shit taste ohhh sooo gooood, I'm ok with that. Plus, it's 1 gram of fat. Let it gooo, you know?
So Hidden Valley can stuff THAT in their pieholes and smoke it.
Perhaps Hidden Valley is on the 3rd ring of hell. Whatever.
I've never really liked the flavor of any kind of bottled Ranch until Ken's came along. I mean, there was always that yummy stuff they have in the produce section...can't remember the name of it right now, though, and searches are proving futile on the 'nets, but it's in a jar, and it's usually near the salad section of the produce department, and each and every kind of dressing they produce is delicious. And the reason they are delicious? Is because they each have 100 grams of fat in a serving. (Which is 2 tablespoons for those of you non-dressing freaks out there amongst us.) So I had to stop eating that ranch dressing as it was becoming the single-handed reason my ass wouldn't stop expanding over the course of the last 6 years. *sigh.* I cry every time I pass that section in the supermarket!
But Ken's has saved my life, as they make a really delicious regular fat ranch dressing, and something I realized recently? They have yummy low-fat ranch dressings and low-fat caesar dressings, too!
Anyway, the reason behind this dressing diatribe isn't to go on and on about how much I love something. That would be so carefree and optimistic of me!
The reason for all this is the following: every once in a while, I like to grab a salad from the salad bar at the local market, and eat it with some sushi or something for my lunch. I have a variety of dressings to choose from usually...when I'm not looking to fit into a wedding dress in a month, that is. So instead of my usual balsamic vinaigrette or blue cheese dressing I prefer to eat on my salad, I've been trying lower fat options instead.
A couple of weeks ago, I went ahead and picked up a packet of Hidden Valley Fat Free Ranch Dressing, in hopes that maybe they'd made some flavor enhancements over the years during which I'd been completely ignoring its existence.
But, usually the stuff I put on top of the salad (pickled beets, egg whites, baby corn) help to drown out the shitty flavor of the nasty-ass Fat Free monstrosity, and I remembered that as working out pretty well that last time I did it.
So today, I grabbed a salad, and picked up a packet of Fat Free Ranch Dressing, and came back to my office to eat lunch in relative peace.
And it sucked. Even though the beets and the egg whites and the yummy baby corn were there to help it out, it just tasted like, well, the dressing one would expect to come from the 3rd ring of hell.
And I couldn't help but wonder just what I was putting into my body by ingesting a tablespoon and a half of this shit, so I checked the ingredient list.
Here they are: Water, ranch seasoning and spices (modified food starch, buttermilk, sugar, salt, sour cream [cream, nonfat milk, cultures], monosodium glutamate, cultured nonfat milk, garlic, onion, less than 2% of spice, green onion, maltodextrine, monoglycerides, soy lecithin, xanthan gum, disodium phosphate, calcium disodium EDTA added to protect flavor)...
Ok, I don't know about you, but that was just about ENOUGH for me! I mean, I know dressing in little packets isn't going to be directly from God's hands to your mouth, and shit, but still! How did they figure that formula out, anyway? And, I don't know if it's just me, but last I checked, the ingredient "cream" had fat in it. So, yeah. Fat Free Ranch Dressing? I call your bluff, sir! (And that was just HALF of the list on the back of the packet, by the way. UGH!)
I'm not putting this shit inside my body ever again. I don't care how convenient it may be. It's gross. And it tastes funny. And it's GROSS! BLECH!!!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Then I went to grab a bagel and a Diet Coke at the bagel place nearby on my way to work, and had to deal with yet another line-cutter who apparently thought that since she was just ordering a chai latte thingy, she didn't deserve to wait behind us peasants that were getting bagels and coffee/soda. I almost felt like I shoulda curtsied! (But I didn't.)
Then...THEN! my check card didn't go through. Odd. For the whole $4.30 charge, it should have been fine. I bought dinner with it last night, and it was ok. I told the girl at the register that it might be their machines...she agreed, politely. (Such a nice girl.) No worries...I had cash and paid with that.
So I called my bank while I was on my way to work. Sho 'nuff, they had put a freeze on the card due to suspected fraudulent activity. Someone used my check card number last night to make two purchases. In MEXICO.
At least they aren't very good criminals. They purchased something - looks like gas - for $63, and made a second purchase for about $11 at some other place before my bank caught on and put the block on the card. One of the charges has already been reversed, and we're waiting for the other one to do the same.
In the meantime, I have had to cancel my card, and order a new one. It should be here in 5 -7 business days.
I can still write checks, which is a good thing since we owe the church some money at the end of this week.
Otherwise, I'll just use my credit card for purchases for now, I guess.
How you doin'? You doin' ok? I hope you're doin' ok...
Friday, September 21, 2007
The fiancé, however, is anti-pill-popping. He used it as directed when he was going through all of his dental work stuff, but any other time, he stays away from the stuff. What’s rough about this is that he has some back pain on a regular basis. And for some reason, he’d rather try to contort his body into some relatively random position in his attempts to obtain comfort than to simply grab 3 Advil and give them a go at the pain.
It’s a wee bit frustrating.
I don’t understand the aversion to the pain killers, as I’m a pain-hater, so I’ll generally take them at the earliest sign of an issue. I will happily take 3 prior to bedtime to help relax me a bit and to aid in my fight against my jaw-clenching issue. I don’t know if it works, but I try. (I need a mouth guard, dammit. Sexay…)
What’s the problem with taking some Advil now and then? Advil is some good stuff! Any other pill-haters out there that can offer a genuine (non-troll, thank you) perspective on this issue? Any stories to back up your anti-pillness? I personally overdosed on Advil years ago (on purpose), and have recovered to the point where I can take it again and have it be effective in my system, and for that I’m truly grateful. I don’t believe it has any negative effects on me in the doses I take it in, but maybe I’m wrong to assume that? Let me know what you think…
Thursday, September 20, 2007
It was entertaining. She's a weird chicky. ("Are my knickahs showing?")
But what I want to know, from all you undercover Brits (and Brit-speak savvy individuals, such as Ms. Pants) out there that read this here blog, is what she means by calling everything "mayjah" all the time. (For those of you that don't know that I am talented enough to be able to blog with a British accent, and are therefore unable to read what that word is, it's the word "major.") When she was in the home of that freaky society lady for lunch (and some shots) that one day, being welcomed to the neighborhood and all, she kept referring to the ladies as "mayjah" in her voice-over review of the event. (She was also absolutely beyond kind and nice when she remembered them all as being "fabulous," I thought. Because that's certainly not what I'd call them. But I did think it was funny when she said that their lipstick was a bit strong for her preference. Because all of them had some weird. motherfucking. lips, dammit. And were a bit too tan, as well.) When she went shopping, she referred to some of the clothes she was browsing through as "mayjah" which confused me, because I thought it was a sneaky way of her making fun of the society ladies without being too, too cruel to them in case she ever runs into them again. But then the clothes she was looking at seemed right up her alley. So it appeared as though it means she likes something she sees? I dunno.
So what does it mean? I pride myself on being pretty savvy with most of the Brit-speak that crosses my path now and then (I do watch "Extras" and as much Eddie Izzard as I can get my hands on, after all), but this one was new to me. Help a girl out, will ya?
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Last night, the fiance took me to dinner, and we talked more and decided what we'll do. Having a plan in place helps, I've found. (So did the 24 oz Sapporo I drank, but that's beside the point, of course.) Per suggestion from sweet Coley, I'm going to alert our vendors to the situation at hand, just in case. But at this point, we do not see any reason to set cancellation wheels in motion.
And that fact, all by itself, has made me feel like half of my brain has been freed from the bog it was settled into as of yesterday.
There's still no getting around the fact of what my father's health is, though. But he knows better than all of us what he's dealing with, of course, and he's old and wise and The Dad, and all, so I guess I'll just have to listen to him. Again. *sigh!*
In other, normal, everyday life, I have a complaint to register with The Entire World. (Or at least those of you who happen to travel across the intersection of Nall and 75th Street each day, or ANY day for that matter, while it's being worked on like it is right now...) Here's the deal: I know the intersection is being resurfaced, or what have you. Yes, there's a bump on both sides of the intersection...on all four sides, really, but as drivers, we only need to go over two bumps regardless of what direction we're going in.
That "drop-off" onto the rough patch in the middle of the intersection appears to make some of you think that if you go any faster than 2 MPH, you will lose all four tires, your car will bottom out, and your transmission will suddenly go missing. At least, it seems that's what you must believe because, oh my holy Christ, you are moving TOO SLOWLY through that space! The drop from surfaced street to unsurfaced street is possibly an inch and a half deep. And lots of people have already driven over it, so it's not even a sharp edge anymore! Going back up onto the surfaced section after getting through the intersection appears to make all of you worry that somehow, you will DIE if you go up without first BRAKING right before you hit it.
To this I say WHAT. THE. FUCK?
Firstly, you were already going so slowly, I could actually get out of my car, dance around yours in a circle, climb back into my car, and you STILL wouldn't be out of the intersection. So why, WHY???, do you feel it necessary to hit the brakes before you go up this teeny bump on the other side of the intersection? Secondly, see the comments above about how the bump isn't as scary as you've made it out to be in your mind. It's smaller than some roadkill I've seen a lot of you drive over with ease and no issues, so why do you have a problem with it?
You're making traffic unbearable through that area both in the morning at at night. And don't even get me started about how things work when it's raining. *shudders!* That made the commute home last night a TON of fun! WOO!
So, yeah, I might start taking an alternate route so I don't feel so angsty in the mornings until they get all that work done, but really...look inward upon yourselves. Figure out how to drive before you leave your driveways. It's a good idea, I think.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
My dad is getting worse.
The Twin told me last night that he might not be able to make it for the wedding. While that would be more than a bummer, the bigger issue at hand is whether or not he'll be getting a transplant any time soon.
If dad goes in for the transplant (should he be placed on the list, which is still up in the air mind you), I want to be there, of course. What if he goes in the week before the wedding? Hell, TWO WEEKS, even?
So as of last night, and most of this morning, my mind has been more than consumed with the thoughts of how to cancel the wedding. The wedding is important to me and the fiance - this is a fact. But more important to me (and the fiance I think) is family, and their health and state of being.
I've known that I might have to deal with this reality all along. I just didn't know that it would push the envelope like this.
This morning, I found an email from the Twin in my inbox at work saying that she had discussed everything with our dad, and he insists that he will be there. And while that holds a good amount of comfort for me, it also just pings around my head like a pinball in a pinball machine. The ball has been shot...I don't know how to make it stop.
I feel barely able to move. Slow-mo flipped on last night, and it still hasn't gone away, even after the Twin's email.
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again...
Monday, September 17, 2007
Pray for me, if you lean that way. Pray for the whole family, ok?
You are not Gordon Ramsey. Tie the ego back a bit, bub.
Had you checked to see what the problem was, maybe you would've heard that the expo line was constantly yelling, yelling, yelling about their need for the mac & cheese from the person who was making it. Had they shutthefuckup for a minute, they would have gotten it when it was completely done, and then everyone would have been happy. 8 minute ticket times aren't the end-all-be-all. If you want to be the Lord of Fast Food, why don't you go find a job at a McDonald's?
We need to open our own restaurant, dammit. The places in this town are a fucking joke and a half.
Friday, September 14, 2007
So I gathered and gathered and walked around to make sure I had seen it all and didn't want to gather anything else, and then I found someone that was willing to actually do part of their job and let me into a dressing room.
While I was buttoning the first top that I decided to try on, I heard a key in the door of my dressing room, and then the door opened as I was saying, "Whoah! What're you doing?" The woman actually opened the door almost all the way, ignoring my protests, before she took a second to HEAR MY VOICE as she looked at my variously undressed body and then said, "Oh! Sorry...didn't know anyone was in here." To which I replied, "That's why it's helpful if you KNOCK FIRST."
I mean, JESUS CHRIST! You don't have to work long in retail to know that little tidbit of info. In fact, as a long-time customer prior to going into retail after graduating from college (like ya do), I was pretty well-versed in the habit already. Shocking, I know. (What's the title to this blog again? That's right.)
I'm going to the movies tonight by myself. I wanna see "Becoming Jane"** and wish myself into a tizzy over the small bodices and long dresses and long walks from mansion to mansion after it's over. Not to mention all the balls. Why don't we have balls like that in America? Outside of the south, I mean. And without it being such a pretentious activity and all. (Because even with the language and the money and the heroins that grace the pages of all of Austen's novels, I never saw the activities of a ball as pretentious on the part of the ball-givers or most of the ball-goers in her books. Don't get me started on the Eltons...they just suck, so they don't count, dammit. And while Emma had her pretentious moments, it was all about the learning for her, so you can't bring that up, either. And Mr. Darcy just needed a little learning himself, so again...not allowed to bring him up, you picky bitches, you.)
In this world of tight jeans, cars that take us just about everywhere we need to go, sports heroes making a mess of their lives, and women in the workforce making a name for themselves, Austen's stories make me cry when I finish reading them. Not so much for the characters, but for the time that once was. I miss those slow days, and I never even had a chance to live them! I really wish that wasn't the case.
**DAMMIT! Of course this is the week they changed the times at the theater I was going to see Becoming Jane at, and now it's only playing at 4:30 today. Mutherfuckers...
Thursday, September 13, 2007
This day has gone to unbelievable proportions. Simply beyond what I can handle right now. Like to the point where I want to cry at my desk.
And the heartburn? Ugh...why have I not figured out that I need to keep Zantac on me at all times. ALL TIMES! Goddammit!
Hopefully I'll be back to 100% tomorrow. Hope everyone else is feeling good today...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Those of us here in the Kansas City blogging community are probably well aware of who he was and what he was about. I only marginally knew him, as his blog wasn't a regular read for me, but I certainly knew who he was, and looked forward to seeing him again fo sho.
I had the opportunity to meet him at the blogger meetup we had at Governor Stumpy's back in July, I think it was, and was surprised to find him as quiet and observant as he was that night. He asked me what my issue was a few months ago when I called him out in an errant comment on Tony's blog, saying he wasn't a real blogger, and that all he did was post links and then let the comments run wild on his site. Yeeaaah, I kinda had him confused with the guy that ran the "blog" on the KC Star called "Crime Scene KC" or whatever the fuck it is. I think his name was Greg, too. (I learned that night that he had passed away, too. At that point it wasn't a "too" situation, of course, but yeah. He had died.) So I messed up, and even though I apologized in those comments, it was still an embarrassing gaff, and I'm glad he brought it up when I saw him at the meetup, because it was nice to have the chance to apologize in person for the stupid comment. I even offered to buy him a drink, but someone else went and bought his next two drinks instead, and then he left, and so I never did have a chance to do it.
I was hoping to do so at the last meetup, but he wasn't there for some reason.
And now he'll never be at another meetup again.
It's just fucked up, is what it is.
You were a good guy, Greg, and I'm adding you to my roll, albeit a bit belatedly. I don't know why I never got around to it before now, but it seems I have some reading to do, so if you'll all excuse me...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
What is THAT look? I don't know. How about this beaut?
Sweeeeet. But, hey! You can see my feet? Aren't they teeny? Why didn't my boobs wind up that way, huh? Sheeit.
Decided to do an Ode de Tarjay this last one...lookie me go!
There are more pics, but that's all that will fit into this one post for blogger. Because it is a fucker like that. Basically, I want to wear the black dress on my bachelorette night, and I'd like to wear the brown one for the RD still, but it doesn't fit me right. It's too big through the torso, and I don't know if I can reconcile myself to the idea of having a $40 dress from Target altered. (Even though I'm currently waiting for a $60 bathing suit from Spiegel to get finished, but shut up.) It needs a pressing, but I think it's cute, and I can wear a bra with it, which is a big key to a fun dress for me.
I have some thinking to do. Just thought I'd share in the meantime.
The bridesmaids will carry bouquets made up of a variety of roses in "sunset" colors like reds, oranges, and deep pinks (which will actually be coxcomb, and not roses). Their bouquets won't be as obnoxiously large as mine is, either. Because I'm nice like that. :) It'll be something like this, but without all the extra bits...I don't like extra bits. Photo found on the Knot...of course.
The boys will all wear boutonnieres that consist of an orange rose with an orange fall-leaf backing, wrapped with chocolate brown wrap-stuff (technical florist term there...that I just made up!) on the stem. The fiance's will be different in that he will have a white rose. The rest is the same. This is idea we're working from (courtesy of http://www.bluebouquet.com/ - my florist!):And these are the bridesmaid dresses that we picked out. Actually, it was one of the more stressful aspects of this process, surprisingly. It's hard to figure out what everyone will be happy wearing, and will look cute in, and will feel pretty in, and all that! Picture courtesy of David's Bridal...
Wha...? George Clooney, how'd you get in here? Cheeky...
Ok, here is the inside of the church we're getting married at. It's Redemptorist Catholic Church on Broadway at 33rd. Very gothic...very pretty...can't wait!
And I think that's all we need for now, isn't it? Probly more than anyone needed, really! But, hey, if it's fun for some, then that's all that matters. Lunchtime! Bye! (Excuse any weird spacing in the post...that's what happens when I add photos and move them around. Fucks with the paragraphs, for some reason. And no matter how much I try to fix it, it just does what it wants in the end...)
Monday, September 10, 2007
It's a brown dress, and as the colors for the wedding are chocolate and champagne, I figure it fits the occassion nicely. We'll see.
Oh, um...weelll, that kinda looks similar to the dress I actually did purchase, but thanks anyway Target computer.
So how is it that an hour of yard work on Saturday has managed to make my hamstrings so sore, I can hardly stand it today?
Friday, September 07, 2007
Whew! What a relief that is! I mean, I've always thought we kind of had an edge seeing as humans drive cars, have jobs, have created a somewhat sophistocated way of exchanging goods for currency, live in houses, tend to avoid throwing our feces at each other, etc..., but really until this study came out, I couldn't be totally positive about our superior position in society. Thank GOD someone did a study for us like this. Such a load off...
In other news, I've been riding the Twin pretty hard lately, and I want to make sure she knows its all in good fun. Ribbing her makes me smile. And because she is the baby of the family (she's younger than me by 6 minutes, dammit), she's had to endure this sort of thing all her life, and it really isn't all that fair. But, as mom always said, Life Isn't Fair. (Given, it was usually in context of a fight regarding shotgun rights in the car, but still...)
I appreciate you, dude. I like making fun of you in public because, well, it's fun. You should do it to your kids sometime...relieves tension.
I'm trying to stay chipper today because (a) it's Friday, and (b) I received some relatively depressing news yesterday when I got home. We've been waiting all week for a bushel-load of RSVPs to come in from our invited wedding guests, and yesterday we got our wish...we received 5 or 6 of them, I think. Some declines, and some accepts, and all is better in the world thanks to their attention to etiquette.
However, one of them was from an old friend of mine and her husband. She was the first real friend I made here in the KC area when I moved to town back in 1996, and while we haven't stayed as close as we were back when we were both single and a bit more confused about where our lives were headed, I thought we were still friends.
She recently had her second baby with her husband. It was slightly disappointing timing, since she gave birth about a week before my local wedding shower and was unable to attend. But of course I was SO happy for her and the family, the shower didn't matter at all (except that I was looking forward to seeing her - duh) and I sent along a gift to her as soon as I could, wishing her the best with the newest member of their growing brood. She, in turn, sent me a thank you note for the gift, which is de rigueur for a girl like her. (I've often referred to her as the Martha Stewart of Kansas City...) The last time we "spoke" was via email when she had informed me of her impending due date, and warned that she might not be able to attend the shower due to the closeness to the birth of her child. I told her I understood absolutely, and couldn't wait to see her and the new baby soon after it was born.
Well, oddly enough, I hadn't received the RSVP from her and her husband before the "due date" we had on it, and I was starting to worry a bit. I even talked to the Twin about it yesterday, saying that I felt bad about needing to contact her to find out what their response would be, since it seems sort of ratty to just call someone to say, "Hey, you comin' to the wedding, or what?" (Not that I would put it that way, of course! But I worry about how those sorts of things are perceived, especially when dealing with someone who's as cordial as this particular friend tends to be.) Twin assured me that it was perfectly normal to follow up like this, and I could always ask after the family and all and catch up a bit while I was on the phone with her.
Well, I shouldn't have worried so much, We received their RSVP yesterday in the mail.
Unfortunately, it said they would not be attending.
I put a pause in there because I don't know what else to do with this. It feels like I've been punched in the gut each and every time I think about it, and I don't know how to handle it! I go back and forth from feeling pretty down about it to completely accepting it for what it is (i.e. the absolute symbol that this friend would like to end our friendship), and then wondering what the motivation is behind it all. On the back of the card, she had written that they were sorry they would be unable to attend, and they wish us the best. That was it...no explanation about a trip they had planned previously, no note about how she felt we had drifted apart and so thought that attending the wedding would be dragging things out beyond what they needed to be.
I'm so confused! I'm also a little worried. She had a rough time of it after her first was born, and I think she'd had a bit of post-partum, even. Back when we first knew each other, she disappeared for a few months (like 8, I mean), and when she resurfaced, she apologized, but said that she'd hit a rough snag in life, and had had a need to completely shut herself off from everything in order to get everything back on track. I understood...I was glad to have her back. Those next few years, we kept in contact...I even stayed at her parents' house once when I came to town for a visit one year. I was at her wedding, and had a great time and was made to feel like part of the family. Up until two years ago, I was their housesitter whenever they went on vacations or trips somewhere. It has been a year since we've seen each other, but with the fiance, and her family, and everything else that came along, it just sort of made sense that we might not have time to get together like we used to every few months.
And I've missed her. But I've always sent the Christmas presents, and the baby presents, and have attended the parties I was invited to attend...
So seeing that they won't be coming to the wedding after all? Seeing that there is a definite sign from her saying, "Hey, this friendship has been played out. Let's just admit it and move on, eh?" Well, like the fiance said to me last night when we were leaving for dinner..."It hurts, huh?"
Yes. Indeed it does.
And there's a part of me that wants to send her a note that just says that I'm worried about her, since she's just had the baby and all, and just want to make sure she's all right. But then there's the other part of me that keeps saying to myself, "She just wants to let it go...can't you see that?"
And I don't know which part to listen to.
And so I think I will be drinking a bit tonight, dammit. Calories be damned.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
So WTF is that about? I can't find a single unregistered deposit or payment on my list for the last month and a half.
Why does this have to happen NOW? (And before y'all go off on me with the "woe-is-you...having an overage in the bank account must be tough!", let me remind y'all that nothing - NOTHING - stresses me out more than money issues. And being unbalanced in either direction drives me to madness. As if I wasn't there already...psha!)
Two other quick points...wait - make that 3:
- I have had to take a shit since this morning, but haven't had the opportunity to do so yet. It's mildly uncomfy, but I'm so busy, it's not even at the forefront of my mind right now. The shit can wait!
- My coworker was just listening to gospel music so loud, I had to go ask her to turn it down. She had her headphones on, and somehow, it was coming out of the outside of the headphones. She didn't realize it until I pointed it out. I love working in a cube.
- Why do people put religious quotes at the end of their email signatures? Isn't that pushing an envelope of some sort? I mean, I'm even a fan of religion...but I'm not gonna go quotin' the Bible all over the place, and shit. For that matter, I don't really understand why people put quotes of any kind at the bottoms of their email signatures! I mean, even if I happen to catch it (which I usually don't) it's not like it's a day-changing event for me to have read it. Hate to disappoint those of you who do this sort of thing...I'm thinking it's a pretty useless effort.
Ok, I'm gonna go get back in it now. Ta!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Sorry for the lack of posts. I'll catch up soon.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
The Twin called me on Sunday when she was on her way home from a couple of days spent hanging out with our older sister at her house outside of LA, and we chatted for a bit, very briefly, as the fiancé and I were deep in the middle of watching Blades of Glory. (Which was a funny fucking movie, so watch it if you haven’t.)
Anyway, we quickly discussed the fact that she’d seen Balls of Fury that day, and how she hadn’t yet seen Blades of Glory because it was always rented when she went to look for it at Blockbuster (or wherever it is she rents her movies), and I told her that we bought ours at Best Buy, and it’s well worth it…we’d also gone through some issues with the copy we received from Netflix (which is how WE rent our movies…), as the fiancé had gone ahead and requested the HD-DVD. There’s more to that story, but as it isn’t really the point to this post, I’ll finish it another time.
The Twin mentioned that she had talked to our dad the day before, and she wondered if I’d talked to him at all lately? Nope, I hadn’t. She then told me that he found out from his doctor recently that he is a candidate for a lung transplant. She sounded really excited and happy about that fact. And although I can certainly understand reasons WHY we should be happy dad is a candidate for a lung transplant, I didn’t feel as hopeful as she sounded at that very moment.
And to be honest, I still don’t today.
Dad is over 65. He’s been sick for a long time (longer than we even knew he was sick, actually…but isn’t that usually the case?), and although he looks great and seems like the same ol’ dad that he’s always been when I see him, he’s not healthy. His coughing has gotten worse, his breathing is getting tougher for him, he’s not comfy on certain days…his disease is catching up to him, basically.
Dad has pulmonary fibrosis , and was diagnosed as being in the end-stages of the disease when he got checked out for it soon after his younger brother died of it almost 4 years ago. (Actually, I think it has been 4 years. It was right before I bought my house, and I’m pretty sure it happened in August. It’s a big blur to think back on, since my grandpa died 2 weeks later, and all the travel, mourning, seeing family that I hadn’t seen in years, and then figuring out what was going to happen to dad’s wedding to my step mom was a bunch of stuff to handle all at once. So definitive dates aren’t that easy for me to recall…) If I remember correctly, we were told that dad could live about another 5 years with the disease, if something like what happened to his brother didn’t happen to him first. (He had contracted pneumonia, and was unable to recover due to the gravity of the illness.) Pulmonary fibrosis is like a slow-moving cancer. One that you just can’t cure, no matter what.
That is, unless you can get a lung transplant.
While it may seem like a hopeful thought, getting new lungs to start fresh with, I can’t help but be struck with the thought of my dad receiving a whole new set of lungs. Ones that we aren’t sure will take. Ones that we aren’t sure he’ll be able to live with. And even if they do work out, apparently, the rates for survival from a lung transplant are as follows: about 80% live a whole year after the transplant; 60% live for 4 years.
And while that all sounds well and good, it all depends on whether he comes through the surgery safely and disease-free. Having one’s chest cracked open and fucked with doesn’t seem like a fun and easy process even at MY age, on someone in my condition. I can’t even imagine what it could do to a guy my dad’s age. Although he is as healthy as a horse, as they say, aside from his gradually hardening/filling with fluid lung issue.
*sigh!* I’m just freaked out, is all. Yes, it’s good that dad is healthy enough to be considered a good candidate to be put on the list. Yes, it’s good that things are going as well as they are at this stage after the amount of time that’s passed with him knowing why it is his chest feels the way it does, and all. Of course, it would be ultra-fabulous if the optimum outcome occurred, and dad gets put on the list, gets a transplant, does well through the surgery, heals and recovers afterwards with no set backs, and lives for another 10 years thanks to the donor of the new lungs. (Which apparently can happen in about 20% of cases…) But it’s been scary enough thinking about what he’s going through and what can happen to him and our family with the disease being the way it is without having to consider this scenario as well.
It’s just not fair. And I don’t care if life is supposed to be fair or not…what this disease has done to my dad’s lovely family (killed my grandmother, uncle, and by association, my grandfather…and my dad’s youngest bro has it, too. He’s in an earlier stage, though, thank goodness) just isn’t right. And it sucks, and I wish he could just be a healthy old guy that lives to be 110 so we can keep doing things the way we are right now. Dammit.