truckishness

We've been home bound for a few days now. Today is our first pretty sunny day in a few. We've had rain, which is wonderful because we're so dry here! The other day Superman checked the tires on the van. They've been in bad shape for a while, and we are playing the "will they or won't they" game. Can they last one more pay period before they fail? And we've limited our driving. Well, on the latest inspection the back tires were deemed in critical condition, so only Superman has driven it, and only to the drug store about a mile away. (I suppose he could have walked, but it was raining and I needed my meds!)


And Manny has been acting up recently. He doesn't want to start, and has been running rough. It has been so bad I've been making plans to take him to the shop on Wednesday. He has a new starter; that works fine. But the engine won't catch 9 times out of 10. I suspect a fuel supply problem.
And I know this is at least a portion of the problem:


The latch on the glove box door broke, so the glove box hangs open. Of course this causes a knee hazard, and some might consider it unsightly. But how, you may ask, would this cause starting problems? Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have here a 1990 model Ford F150. We're talking some upscale shit here. There is a light inside this glove box! With a switch that automatically turns the light off when the door closes. Door doesn't close, light stays on, battery slowly runs down, engine doesn't have enough power to start.

So we obviously need to get that door to stay closed. But this is Manny we're working on; MY truck. So the fix is going to be uniquely me. I've been contemplating it for a week or two, and recently got one of the supplies I needed - a package of industrial strength Velcro™. Superman spent the last two days cleaning out the garage, and I knew he'd find in that mess the other article I needed: a lone glove. This afternoon the fix was accomplished:

I love it. I showed Light and Superman the supplies I was going to use for the fix. Neither of them could figure out what I was planning. When I brought them out for the big reveal both of them had a hearty laugh.

However, if you look carefully at that second picture, you may notice the door is not completely closed on that near corner. Indeed, this fix doesn't solve all of the problems. Alas, the light is still on. So I fixed that, too. I unplugged the wire from the back of the light bulb fixture.

The switch is that long black button thing on the right, the plug is the dangly thing to the left. So, no more light to drain the battery. No more light to illuminate the glove box, either, but that's why we have flashlights.

As I mentioned, Superman has been cleaning out the garage. He had Manny's bed full enough for a dump run, so he hopped in the truck. It gave a wimpy attempt to start, so Superman got the jumper cables out and charged up the battery with the van. I don't know if he tried to start the truck again or not, but he came into the house and said "Will you go start your truck please?" I went out to the driveway, patted the edge of the truck bed and made soothing noises. Asked him if he was ready to start now. I got in, turned the key, and vroom! Back inside, Superman asked if it had started. Yup. What'd ya' do? Turned the key, I said, trying hard not to gloat. He then allowed me the opportunity to drive to the dump, which I did. Manny drove fine; no fits or sputters. The last time I fueled up I put premium in the tanks to take advantage of the engine cleaners and stuff they put in the pricey gas. Superman told me about the little bottles of injector cleaner sold at the auto parts store, and we decided to try that. On the way back from the dump we picked up a bottle, he put it in the tank, and away we went. Manny is running great now. So I don't have to take him to the shop! And in about 3 weeks I need to drive him down to Florida to meet my mother and go on the cruise! (Mama and me, not Manny. He can wait in Mama's driveway until we get back.)

a few things

All right, y'all. There is something gross going on in my refrigerator. This sounds like a job for Superman! His sense of smell is somewhat hindered, though not altogether gone, so it won't be quite as bad for him.
Actually, he's already looked for the offending substance and found nothing. S cleared all the old nasty stuff out of it a couple of weeks ago, but obviously something else has turned. I think Twitch said he looked for whatever was smelling the place up and didn't find it. I suspect none of them looked very closely. As bad as it smells, I don't blame them. One of us needs to get in there and do some reconnoitering. But I haven't been to sleep yet so I'm not gonna do it now.

Update on the 'fridge: Superman found it. There was a tray of chicken breasts hidden in one of the drawers. We forgot it was there, so $16 worth of boneless skinless chicken meat went bad. I hate when that happens.

And now I can't remember what the other thing was that I planned to tell you. I'm really tired, that's my excuse.

Oh, right! Check out my little avatar thingy over there. It's a bear drinking coffee. You know, the Java thing. Also, I've been thinking recently about what sort of animal I might be, or be most like. I considered a chicken or some kind of bird. I like birds, and chickens in particular fascinate me. But though I might like chickens, I don't think of myself as one. Superman's other alias is Concolor, which is the species (?) name for a puma. So he's a big cat. Light has been a cat most of her life. One of her first "words" was a purr. The neighbor had a cat and Light, at only 15 months old, loved to play with it. The cat purred very loudly, and that is the noise Light would make when referring to a cat. It was adorable. So she has identified with cats for practically ever.
So I was thinking, and I came up with bear. Here are the qualities I relate to:

• Big


• Grumpy, and able to get away with it most of the time


• Somnolent: they are known to sleep for months at a time


• Omnivorous: they don't know from food groups!


• Protective: you know their reputation for protecting their young

And here's the thing about a mama bear. If her cubs are irritating her, she'll cuff 'em good. But if she thinks they are threatened, woe betide the fool who's doing the threatening! I get like that on both accounts. I can be bitchy to my kids when they need it. But I have a strong protective urge. If anyone I care about, be he child o' mine or anybody else I have in my heart, is in a situation I feel is perilous I will stand up big and strong and make a mighty roar in defense.

So this avatar is a bear drinking coffee. It isn't the kind of bear I consider myself to be. My image of my bear-self is more like this. But it is difficult to find an image on Google/images of a big bad bear like this sitting in a club chair enjoying a good cup of steaming joe. You know?

AVIAN FLU HITS FLORIDA TRAILER PARK!

Interesting goings on in Scotland

Sex lessons must start at age five

That's the top headline in today's Scotsman.com website.
It goes on to discuss sex education in Scottish schools, how it needs to begin earlier because so many young people are getting the information after it's too late. The headline, though, is a shocker. I guess that's the secret to successful marketing.

Chicken Soup of the Gods

Superman made chicken soup tonight. I've eaten lots of chicken soup over the past 45 years. This soup he made tonight is undoubtedly the best chicken soup I have ever tasted! He used the leftovers from Christmas dinner, those Cornish game hens he and I jointly prepared. I have no idea what transpired to make the soup so good. The hens were brined for a few hours before they were roasted. After roasting and not being eaten, they went into the pot of water (I think… I was in bed when they were put away) and eventually stuck in the freezer. Yesterday I believe it was Light who pulled the pot out of the freezer and set it on the stove over very low heat. It finally thawed, then heated to a slow boil. I turned it down to ultra-low before I went to bed at 3:00 a.m. Sometime in the late afternoon Superman pulled the hens out of the broth and separated all the bones from the meat, returning the meat to the pot. He said he added some soup starter (Tone's soup base, kinda like bullion, purchased from Sam's Club). He pulled stuff out of the cabinet and poured it in the pot; he has no idea what all he put in there. I saw what is probably parsley flakes, and canned carrots, peas, and corn. We discussed putting barley in it, but he couldn't find any where he thought we had some. I didn't think we had any. So the barley was only a suggestion and not technically in the soup.

Not only was this the best soup I have ever had, it was extremely good. Extremely! Maybe I've never had really good soup before and this was the best of mediocre. Nope. This was genuinely excellent soup. Primo. And you know I've been sick, and needed some chicken soup. Wow. That's all I can say. Wow.

What dreams may come

I've been having the strangest dreams recently. They've been taking me places I haven't thought about it years and years! I've seen people I thought I'd forgotten. Most of it makes no sense, but when I wake I have a feeling of being slightly off-kilter, out of balance somehow.
Last night I dreamed about taking a walking trip all around the continental US. I started in the north east and walked through mountains and forests along the border all the way to Washington. The next leg of the trip was to walk down to Southern California, but the dream didn't progress that far. Eventually I'd walk across the south from west to east, then up the east coast back to Maine or somethin'. Really ironic, I guess, because as ... um, "out of shape" (FAT!) as I am it's a struggle to walk a mile.
But in my dream my traveling companions were two guys. One was a man, sort of an amalgam of my son Twitch and my oldest (younger) brother. The other was a child, a boy somewhere between 7 and 9 years old, who had been physically and emotionally abused. The boy was mentally unstable, and in order to communicate with him I had to be crazy, too. The older man in the group sort of kept us on track and together, though I set the emotional pace, as it were. And I was bat-shit crazy. We were traveling through relatively unpopulated forest areas, so we didn't come in contact with "polite society" very much. And when we did happen through a small town, try to buy something from a convenience store or something, we all had a very difficult time interacting with sane people. I remember doing a lot of screaming. Not screaming and yelling at people, but just noise. A scream. And I looked like I hadn't bathed in months nor had my hair brushed for a long time. I definitely looked the part of a mad woman.
When I woke up I was confused, but that feeling of bordering on insanity has stayed with me. Sometimes when I feel like this, I like it. I like being able to commune with the intangibles in a semi-spiritual way. But other times it really bothers me because no one in the sane universe understands the importance of the messages I'm trying to convey. When I'm crazy and communing with the insane things/people, I am trying to interpret these things to the sane people. But they don't pay any mind to me because I am insane. It is monumentally frustrating.

2007

Introspection is highly overrated. We'll have none of that foolishment here. There's a Saturday, a Sunday, predictably followed by Monday. After Monday comes Tuesday, just like every other week. Wednesday we will mourn the end of our little break from work and school, and on Thursday we will get up at 4:fuckin15 in the morning and drive a big orange/yellow school bus to the end of the county and back.

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy being at home with Superman, enjoy Light being at home with all of us, and make the best with what we've got with the other souls in the house. And I'll try to rest. Rest, as in SLEEP! There's a difference between "resting" in bed blogging until after midnight and actually sleeping in bed for 8-10 hours.

Update on the germ party in my system: Nose-congested, but not too bad. Ears: fine. Maybe still a bit stopped up but not in any pain now. Thankfully! Throat: Mostly fine. It is rough and my voice is scratchy, but the throat doesn't hurt like it did 2 days ago. Chest: clusterfuck. Tight, congested, wheezy, limited breathing ability, damned uncomfortable.

Superman had a "procedure" done today. I can't remember what it's called, but it has to do with studying the nerve feedback in his arms and legs. He's been experiencing some strange pains in his arms and torso. He's got a ruptured disk in the middle of his back, and that might be part of the problem, but he also has recurring shingles attacks that usually bring a good bit of pain for a few days. The last bout was different, and the docs aren't sure it was shingles or some other neurological condition. So yesterday he had an MRI, and today he had this nerve thing study. The one today was kinda painful, so they gave him some Valium to take right before the procedure. Superman is a cheap date, y'all. It doesn't take much to knock him flat on his ass. The techs couldn't do the test for over an hour because he was sound asleep. They needed him to be a bit more aware than that. They also said he was having strong leg jerks in his sleep, which they were concerned about. Superman has never been bothered by it, but I know he jerks his legs in his sleep sometimes. I do, too. The techs doing the test said that the doctor should know about the restless leg thing, because he takes that sort of thing very seriously. We shall see. I told him to tell the doc my legs do that, too.

When he got home from the testing lab, he was so funny! Sort of like drunk, but different. He was dizzy and loopy. Couldn't carry on a conversation that lasted more than 2 sentences. Non sequiturs all over the place. He ate some supper and went to sleep. But it was early and I was still talking to the kids. He'd hear something I said to one of them, sit up in the bed and say something completely irrelevant. I can hardly wait until he wakes up tomorrow so I can share with him how funny he is.

And alas, it has gotten very very late again. I've had a marvelous evening catching up with my blog buddies. Some are still off on vacation or whatever, but many of them are back and posting all manner of interesting stuff. I love this whole blogosphere and all my new friends. :-)

Thursday ramblings. Not pretty.

There are things that need doing. Superman has a goal for the day: to clean out the garage. It is nasty. But he keeps getting pulled away from the task. I've tried to get all the others in the house to pitch in and do useful-work-for-the-good-of-the-cause. As usually happens, things got started but not completed. The problem is endemic. And originates with me. As wonderful as I seem here (HA!) I'm really messed up.

I've been resting and drinking vast quantities of fruit juice. But no likker. I have a strong desire for eggnog and Captain Morgan. But I digress.

Where were we? Ah, yes, rest. I've rested, but not slept. I am tired now, my brain isn't thinking clearly, and I need to SLEEP!!!

Laundry is the task I gave Light today. I told her she could bring all of our clean stuff in here, pile it on the bed, and I'd fold it. And she did. Here it is. On my feet. I want to stretch out and go to sleep, but I have to fold clothes first. I'm just about to do that, really. I've been just about to do that for the last 3 hours. That's my messed-up-edness. No self discipline. And lots of whining. Shit. I hate hearing it from others, but not as bad as I hate hearing it from me. Shit.

The head feels a little bit better today. I'm not as congested, my ears and throat don't hurt much at all. The crud is moving down into my chest. For some reason when I am tired my chest gets tight and icky. I'm sick, and I'm tired, and my chest feels icky already.

I'm blogging from within a fog. I have no idea where this is going, and I doubt it makes much sense. But I'm spellchecking! Am I spelled correctly? OK, I'm off to fold this mound of clothes on my feet. More later, maybe tomorrow. Maybe I'll sleep the rest of the day after my clothes are folded.
must. fold. clothes.

The aftermath

I hate that word "aftermath." Especially when the Weather Channel uses it to describe what's left after a weather disaster.

Yup, I'm sick. Sure enough, upper respiratory infection; URI. Superman took my prescriptions to the pharmacy and got my meds for me. He bought me some juice and Gatorade. He's so good to me.

Christmas is over, thankfully. No more expectations to make life idyllic for the kids. It is mostly self-imposed expectations that paralyze me. Why do I do that to myself? How can I stop?

I'm going to nap for a while. I hope everyone has a peaceful rest of the week.

Is it safe to come out now?

Is Christmas over? I seem to have survived the day. Well, sort of. I'm getting sick. It's an upper respiratory infection, I suspect. The ears, throat, and sinuses have invited the lymph system to a big bacterial get-together.
I slept a lot of the afternoon. For Christmas dinner I planned to roast Cornish game hens, one for each of us, and I'd also gotten a duck. Yesterday I made sure they were thawing and I mixed up the brine solution in which they would marinate. This morning I finished the prep for that, but Superman had to get the birds into the brine. At about 3:00 this afternoon I suggested that if we were going to eat this dinner it needed to be started. So he and Light fixed dinner. They are wondermous, my darling dears. Light made biscuits for the first time today. They were pretty good!
Superman came to get me when dinner was almost ready. I'd gone back to sleep. I joined the family for dinner, but just didn't want to eat. I had a few bites of most stuff. I ate a whole helping of green bean casserole. I love that stuff. But aside from that I just didn't eat much. It all tasted blah. So I went back to bed.
I've been awake. I watched a video (Catch and Release; I got it for Christmas.) and have read a few blogs. Of course most folks are doing other things today/tonight so blogging activity is minimal. And my brain is muzzy.
Catch and Release I found this movie to be rather scattered. It started in the middle of the story and never really fleshed out the details. I enjoyed the growing attraction between the two main characters, and thought he played it well. He's a hunk, so of course I enjoyed that! Maybe it's because I'm sick and my brain is muzzy, or maybe it's the movie, but the thing didn't really hold together very well. But I liked looking at him. ;-)
Chocolate is supposed to be good for you, right? So I'm sitting here eating some super dark premium chocolate, hoping it will make me feel better. Ghirardelli Intense Dark. I still feel like crap, but my tongue is happy.

Miscellany

The word verification security that Blogger uses frustrates me sometimes. I've got it activated on my comments and run into it on lots of other sites, too. It is a good idea, I understand the need. But I've got the slightest touch of dyslexia or some such, and there are times when it is tricky to get all those letters typed out in the proper order. When the string of letters is really long I feel as though the blogging gods are laughing at me.

This weather is driving me nuts. We'll have a couple days of good cold weather (lows in the mid 20s F) and later in the week it's almost 70F outside! The predicted lows for later this week are in the 50s! Just give me some good consistent cold, appropriate for this latitude (South Carolina, upstate) and wait until March for the spring-like temps!

My beloved truck, Manny, is having some trouble again. He's been running rough, idling too low or something, ever since he came back from his month + in the shop. Yesterday morning as I was leaving for church he almost wouldn't start. The starter is fine (that's one if his new parts) but his engine wouldn't catch. There was a clunk, vroom, chug of the engine starting to turn over, then pathud, rattle, gasp, die. Yes, he's a piece of junk. I know this. But I love him dearly and wish he wasn't so bedraggled.

Diva told me before she went to bed on Christmas Eve that she was going to ride the Polar Express. She was totally convinced the Polar Express train would stop for her!

Christmas morning so far

Having excitable young children, we were up early this morning. I was also up late last night, too, and am really tired now! It is approaching nap time at an amazing rate of speed.

I wanted to post a couple of pictures.

Light gave Superman this t-shirt. It is absolutely perfect for him.

And I gave Light her t-shirt. She's got quite a nice rack, boob-wise. I found this shirt online (I'm too lazy to look up the link) and just had to get it for her. "Save second base" is some kind of breast cancer awareness thing.

I am extremely tired. My throat is sore, my ears hurt a little bit. I guess I need to call the doctor's office in the morning. I'm going to take a nap now.

'Tis blessed to receive

I subscribe to a daily email from Delancey Place that brings, as the page header says, "eclectic little excerpts" to my inbox every day. I thought today's offering was particularly good.

John Steinbeck eulogizes his recently deceased friend, Ed Ricketts, who was the real-life model for the character Doc in Steinbeck's novel, Cannery Row:
"I have tried to isolate and inspect the great talent that was in Ed Ricketts, that made him so loved and needed and makes him so missed now that he is dead. Certainly he was an interesting and charming man, but there was some other quality that far exceeded these. I have thought that it might be his ability to receive, to receive anything from anyone, to receive gracefully and thankfully, and to make the gift seem very fine. Because of this everyone felt good in giving to Ed--a present, a thought, anything.
"Perhaps the most overrated virtue in our list of shoddy virtues is that of giving. Giving builds up the ego of the giver, makes him superior and higher and larger than the receiver. ... It is so easy to give, so exquisitely rewarding. Receiving, on the other hand, if it is well-done, requires a fine balance of self-knowledge and kindness. It requires humility and tact and great understanding of relationships. In receiving, you cannot appear, even to yourself, better or stronger or wiser than the giver, although you must be wiser to do it well.
"It requires self-esteem to receive--not self-love but just a pleasant acquaintance and liking for oneself."
John Steinbeck, The Log from the Sea of Cortez, Appendix, "About Ed Ricketts", Penguin Books, 1951, pp. 272-3.

And speaking of the birhday boy...

Since there seems to be little blog activity tonight because everyone else is out celebrating life, and I obviously have no life, I've been doing some random surfing. It started with an inquiry about Festivus, and led me here.

This is an essay I found at a blog called 23/6, "some of the news/most of the time." It is necessary that I share it with you.

By: Ian Gurvitz Bio
What if Jesus
Were Gay?

Though I never read The DaVinci Code, my understanding is that it was about some double secret Vatican cult dispensing an albino hit man to terminate with extreme prejudice anyone who might have proof that Jesus was married, had a kid, and descendants living in France. Or something like that. All that fuss and murder over one non-immaculate conception. Imagine how many people would have to be smoked if it turned out there was proof Jesus was gay. And there is ample evidence. He didn't have a kid. He was in his 30s and didn't even have a girlfriend. He had one female BFF -- a whore. (Maybe history's first fag hag.) He wore a Caftan, hung out with 12 guys, had long flowing hair, kissed a guy in a garden, and felt alienated, even forsaken, by his father. He talked about loving one's neighbor, but cleverly didn't specify the sex of that neighbor. He talked about having compassion for people. Most of the gay guys I know are very compassionate people. And upon getting a sense of his impending death, did he go out and get wasted? Gamble? Get laid? Buy a fast camel and tear up the desert? No. He threw a dinner party for his 12 guy friends.
It's all there in the book. You don't even have to crack the code. But it's still ok. Even if Jesus were gay, it wouldn't make him a bad person. It would make him the same good person, who wasn't attracted to women. Makes you wonder why more Christians don't get that. Though it does clear up quite a bit. Like the Haggards and Craigs of the world. It's a very neat little syllogism: These guys are true Christians; these guys are gay; ergo, true Christians are gay. QED. (Or maybe it's: gay people are true Christians?) Either way, it certainly explains the pope's outfit.
And if that weren't proof enough, there's the First Baptist Church of Fort Lauderdale, which recently spent $1.3 million on its annual Christmas pageant, with veteran Broadway choreographers directing the moves of 600 dancers. According to the church's senior pastor and show's executive producer Larry Thompson: "I think Jesus would come to the show [and say], 'Authentically you got it right." Ok... though I don't exactly remember a chorus line in the manger, and I do wonder if Jesus might have suggested using the $1.3 million to feed the poor instead of mounting a glitzy Vegas-style passion play, when it comes to the interpretation and understanding of religion in this country, I guess we have to allow for some creative license.
Have an absolutely fabulous Christmas.

7 deadly sins meme

1. If you could kill someone (or injure them egregiously) who would it be and why? Bonus points for 'how'. There are no specific people I want dead. I can't think of any non-specific people I want dead, either. The bad guys? Nah, just incapacitate them. However, if the life of someone I loved was threatened I would do what was necessary to eliminate the threat, up to and including killing someone. How? I will handle that on a case-by-case basis.

2. You have been given 25 Million dollars and you have to spend it all (no donations to charity or investing). What do you spend it on?

Property, real estate, land, acreage

And the services of a dedicated contractor, builder, architectural firm, landscape architect, etc.

And my very own fleet of tractors and other earth moving machines.

And also, not related to the above, I'd buy access to higher education. I would go back to college and get graduate degrees in a number of different disciplines.

And of course I would need a very large art studio, with professional grade kilns for pottery and such, and well stocked with supplies and equipment for making pots, working with woodcrafts, doing various textile arts, and I could probably think of lots of other stuff to do there.

And then there are the vehicles. I don't know that I'd get rid of my wonderful truck, but I would have extensive work done on it, including but not limited to having the sucker painted. I don't like red vehicles. And I would have other trucks as well, and perhaps a few cars, but I don't know what. We'd have to look into it. But none of those little sports cars. I don't really like sports cars. I might buy a few for Superman, though. Can I do that?

3. You have the opportunity to steal anything in the world without getting caught. What is it and why?

Well, gosh, if I've got $25 million, why would I need to steal anything? For the sport of it? The only thing I'd want to steal would be some kitschy statue, maybe a school mascot/icon, or a really obnoxious piece of "artwork" that offends me. I'd steal it to put it out of my misery. I know I've seen stuff like that in various places, but I can't recall a specific one.

4. You have the opportunity to pawn off one facet of your life to someone else forever. What is it and why?

A facet of my life? How about the part where I have to clean up anything. All of that general household maintenance stuff can certainly be accomplished by someone else. Cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, yard work, etc.

5. If you could have sex with anyone (or anything) throughout the history of the world without repercussions, who or what would it be and why?

It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

He's big, sweet, soft, and delicious.

6. Describe the time in your life when you were the most bitterly jealous.

I don't really do jealousy very much. I'm not sure how. Sometimes I envy, but it isn't like my mother-in-law says, "I wish I had (fill in the blank) and you had a wart on your nose." You go ahead and keep yours, I'll get one of my own. The only jealous episodes I can think of are from the first few years of my marriage when Superman and I would visit his family. He's got a brother who is 11 years his junior. Superman was 23 when we married, his brother was 12. They have always had a close relationship. Whenever we'd visit, little brother would want Superman to spend the whole time with him. But that left me out, having nothing to do but spend time with the mother-in-law. This didn't suit me, not one little bit. I was jealous of the time that my husband spent with his brother and ignored me. But I wasn't bitter. I was petty and selfish, immature and obnoxious. But not bitter.

7. If you could have free, no-death, GOOD plastic surgery on anything and everything that you want, what would you alter and why?

I'd have liposuction and an everything-that-needs-it tuck. I'd surgically loose all this extra weight and eliminate the flappy skin. And I'd pretend that would be just as good as working at it, doing it the right way.

And I tag VUBOQ! As soon as he gets back home and online again.

Cooties

I lifted this off the "Just David!" blog. I had to have it for my own!

The latest on Adam is looking very good!

This is how Light reported it in her blog:

Today, The Flower (one of her friends) and I went over to the local rehabilitation center and saw Le Batard(Adam). He is WALKING! I had talked to him on the phone and he'd tod me this, so I knew it intellectually, but to see him walking, and (aside from being a bit more irritable and having braces on his neck and torso) back to himself is a whole different thing!That, and he is still able to tickle attack me and make sexual jokes about everyone around him. He is definitely back to normal.

And they tell me he is being discharged from the rehab center tomorrow and will be at HOME! He lives in our neighborhood, so he'll be just around the block by (ok, it is really today....Saturday).

from the mouths of babes

He'd hate it if he knew I was calling him a baby!
Sproing is gloomy tonight. Superman has gone to Macon, GA to visit his sister for the weekend. He and Twitch left about an hour ago. I just picked up the kidlets from the day care, and Daddy is gone. :( So he's moping. It's one of his many talents.

He came in here to whine at me, and I realize he needs some supper, but I have no inspiration in that regard. So I asked him if there was anything specific he wanted me to fix for supper. I just got one of his faves, Mac&Cheese, last night at the store. (Yuck!) He brought the box to me and said "I wish we were rich so we could go to China."

Readjust ears to interpret Sproingese... He wants to go to a Chinese restaurant for supper tonight. Ah, I see. No. How 'bout some nice Italian pasta a la fromaggio? Maybe a little Mexican chili bean on the side?

My first attempt at adding a video clip

For your viewing pleasure

How to shop at Wal-Mart 5 days before Christmas

I did it! And it didn't even kill me. Actually, I sort of enjoyed it.

Let's see if I can reconstruct the process.

1. Take a nap first
   
2. Wear comfortable clothes with plenty of pockets
   
3. Make a list
   
4. Get the MP3 player, stick it in my ear
   
5. Fill up a large travel mug with ice water to take along
   
6. Go alone
   
7. Drive the truck. The truck makes me happy.
   
8. Stop at Sonic for a large chocolate malt
   
9. Listen to peaceful classical music on the MP3
   
10. Drive on over to Wal-Mart, but don't pay attention to what the parking lot looks like
    
11. Park as close to a "cart corral" as possible
    
12. Make sure the MP3 is loud enough to drown out the store noises, but not so loud as to hurt the ears
    
13. Go about the shopping. Since the peaceful classical music is filling my head, I am able to think about what I need instead of getting distracted and upset by the hubbub around me.
    

    
    

And it really worked! My trick was to insulate myself with peaceful sounds. I also stayed away from the areas that upset me. Any aisle with visually garish displays or colors I just ignored. At one point I took refuge in the stationery/school supplies area. Those products make me happy. I stayed out of the "seasonal" aisle. It was the very definition of garish! Tall stacks of vivid green boxes full of sparkly crinkly plastic hovered like vultures on the shelves, waiting to pounce on me and rip away at my safety bubble. I didn't go there!

I listened to Handel's Messiah. The complete unabridged two-disk set, performed by the London Philharmonic. I started listening to it as I was writing my list, continued through the visit to Sonic and the consumption of the chocolate malt. The complete work was finished before I was finished shopping, so I started listening to Appalachian Waltz with Yo Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, and Mark O'Connor. Very nice music, I think.

I got a lot of groceries. I didn't intend to get that much since I was shopping by myself. Usually if I have that much stuff to get I take along a useful, helpful teenager. But tonight I just couldn't handle being with anyone else, having to carry on conversation and shop at the same time. I had a cart full to overflowing by the time I finished. I stopped by the entry to grab another empty cart on my way to the check-out. When I got up to the cashier I put the empty cart at the bagging station then started unloading the full one. That way there was a cart to put bags into since my full one wouldn't be available to hold bags before there were so many bagged items the cashier wouldn't be able to check out any more stuff. Two carts are easier after check-out, too. I've noticed it is really hard to fit the same amount of merchandise post-check-out into one cart as I had in the pre-check-out cart. That is if I'm buying lots of stuff.

Looking at the quantities, the cashier asked if I was planning a large holiday gathering. I said no, this is for my family. She wondered if I would be doing all the cooking, or if others would be bringing things. I said "No, this is all for my family- my household. Those who live there." She gawked. I live for moments like that.

Though I went alone, I had good help when I got home. Light and Twitch and S helped carry everything in. Light and Twitch put everything away. I took a shower. That was nice, too. I feel accomplished.

Christmas meme

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Paper, definitely.

2. Real tree or Artificial? A real tree every other year. This is our real tree year. On the alternate years I usually do some weird creation that passes for a tree. Last year I had Superman cut out concentric rings from a piece of 4'x8' luan plywood. We spray-painted them a few different colors of green and chained them together to form a basic cone shape. Then we hung it from the ceiling so it would maintain the cone effect. If I had a photo I'd post it. We might get that out again next year and tweak it. It didn't give the effect I had in mind when I designed it. Our second Christmas together I made a paper mache tree using wire coat hangers for the frame. That sucker was HEAVY!

3. When do you put up the tree? No more than two weeks before Christmas. On the years I make a "tree" usually fairly late, because I haven't yet gotten my act together to get it made any earlier.

4. When do you take the tree down? Either New Years Eve, Day, or on the 12^th day of Christmas, which I think is January 8^th.

5. Do you like eggnog? Like? LIKE? Honey, I LOVE me some eggnog. I use eggnog in place of evaporated milk in my pumpkin pies, and have made tapioca pudding and ice cream using eggnog. Let me tell you, eggnog ice cream is da' bomb!

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Either the bike I got when I was about 8 years old, or the stereo system I got in my early teens. Hard to decide.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? Mom has one she puts up every year, so I remember that from my childhood. I used to play with it as if it were a doll house. I currently don't have one that I'm aware of. I don't keep track of that sort of thing, and am not big into decorating.

8. Hardest person to buy for? C. I have no idea what to get for him. And he and S have been shopping for themselves a lot this past month. I got C a (insert gift name here) [he and/or S read this, so I'm not sayin'] a couple of months ago, so I'll give him that. S is a little easier to shop for, and I've gotten him a thing or two.

9. Easiest person to buy for? Light, I think. Also my Mama, mainly because she told me what to get her. I ordered it from Amazon, had it gift wrapped and shipped directly to her. It took less than 5 minutes and was accomplished with a few clicks of the mouse. Man, I love the internet!

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Huh? What are Christmas cards? Years ago, before I had all these children or a full-time job, I sent out Christmas cards. That was a long, long time ago.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Dunno. I tend to block crap like that out of my memory.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? Most favoritest is definitely It's a Wonderful Life. I also really really like The Muppet Christmas Carol and Polar Express.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? This year- July. I try to start in June or July. Some years I do, some just sneak up on me and it's November, maybe after Thanksgiving before I even start.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Of course. I highly recommend it. I've received recycled gifts, too, and I really don't mind usually.

5. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Food. Cookies, maybe. Gingerbread cookies or a gingerbread house. I like to make gingerbread houses, and for a while was doing it every year. It takes a lot of energy to do that, and I'm not sure I've got what it takes this year. It is also getting kinda late to do it before Christmas. I might just make one the week after Christmas, twixt Christmas and New Years. It'll be a New Year gingerbread house. I'm not inspired by a specific design for a house this year like I often am. We'll see. If I do make one, I'll post a picture. I got my camera working, but have yet to successfully post one. I've tried a couple of times, but haven't had the gumption to work at it.

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Either is nice. Don't really care. Especially if someone else does the decorating. I'm not too interested in decorating. If we didn't have the kids, I'm not sure we'd even have a tree.

17. Favorite Christmas song? That's a tough one. A hymn, definitely. I really like Once in Royal David's City and Lo How a Rose 'Ere Blooming. I like Away In a Manger, but not the traditional tune. My favorite way to sing a Christmas song is to harmonize with Superman. I'm soprano, he's tenor. We sound really good together, imho. In a non-professional way, of course.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Home. Stay home. Don't go away anywhere. Right here. No traveling! Nope.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? Yes. Want me to do it here? But I'll give away the answers to anyone else who does this meme! Oh, alright, then … Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen. Rudolph doesn't count.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel. Every time

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? What are you going to do on Christmas morning if you've opened them the night before? Where's the fun of the anticipation? I might concede to opening ONE gift on Christmas Eve, but everything else is saved for Christmas morning. It is important. (to me, anyway)

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? The crowds. In the shopping centers, the parking lots, the roadways, the grocery store even! As I've said before, I do not do well with lots of people around. Go away and let me do this without all these people getting in my way.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color? Huh? I don't care. Again, not into decorating/decoration. I appreciate a lovely decorated tree/home/street/whatever. I just look at the overall big picture and say "my, isn't that pretty," and move on. I probably don't even notice a theme unless it is so obvious even a sports jock "guy" would notice. OK, I've just had an idea for a Christmas tree decoration theme: Condoms! That I'd notice.

Going with this general idea, try to picture a Christmas tree done in this style. That would stand out.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? Today I don't care. Something that I like, obviously, but not necessarily turkey or ham. I remember fixing a duck one year. Superman liked that. I'm quite fond of a good roast. I draw the line at pizza, though. Today I'm feeling the answer should be "whatever someone else fixes."

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? I've got a bad case of the I Don't Give A Damns. That seems to be my theme throughout. I can't think of anything I really want for Christmas. Superman went out at Gawdawfulearly o'clock on the day after Thanksgiving to buy me a digital camera. That's about all I wanted, and I've started using it. The kids will probably get me chocolate. They know what I like (Russell Stover, dark chocolate assortment) (in case you're looking for an idea) and that'll be nice. But really, aside from the camera, I don't care. A big bag of nothing would be fine. I've got way too much crap already, and need to sort through my entire collection of everything I've ever kept and throw most of it away. That'll be a huge emotional cluster-fuck. I think I may have a mild case of whatever they call that psychological disorder where people keep everything for ever and their homes are so chock full of old newspapers and empty McDonalds Big Mac cartons and dead cats (yea, I saw that on the Discovery channel once. Icky!) that when they die or someone stages an intervention the crew comes in and it takes weeks to clear it all out and they figure it would have been easier to just torch the place instead. Anyway, I'm not quite that bad, but I have those tendencies.

So, there it is. If you like this and think you might want to answer these questions too, then consider yourself tagged.

Merry Christmas

ah, yes

This morning I got up almost 5 hours later than I usually do! I got to sleep 2 hours later than usual, but that still leaves me with a net gain of 3 hours. So far, so good! Of course, I haven't done much yet. And I need to get some groceries. That has the potential to be a royal pain, but could be enjoyable. We'll see.

More rambling thoughts

I'm ill as a snake. Grumpy. Unfit for human interaction. I've felt like this most of the day and there hasn't been a damn thing I could do except suck it up and do what needs doing. So of course that's what I did.

The bus drivers had our "office" party this noon. Pot luck. I took mocha biscotti. I really didn't feel like participating. I wondered whether I should. There are good reasons to go mingle and play sweet. It was a very simple pot luck lunch so there wasn't a lot of mingling required. I went through the line and got a few things. My appetite just wasn't there, which is odd for me. I'm morbidly obese, as the doc likes to say, so if my appetite is off I try to go with that flow. I sat at one end of a table, a couple of other drivers sat down beside me and we ate peacefully. I didn't stay long, but I smiled and responded pleasantly to those who spoke to me.

I was proud of myself for being nice to the driver who drives the regular route bus in the area of the county where I go. We don't share the road very well, and of course it is all her fault. Really, she's a mean bitch. But I have to work with her and it is easier to do if I play nice. One of my motivations to be pleasant to her today was that I just didn't have the energy to get into a bitch fest with her. She's very tallented at being a bitch, and I'm not as experienced.

The voices in my head have been naughty today, telling me all the bad things about me. I tried to tell them to shut up. My typical counter measure involves coming up with success stories and other random bits of goodness I exhibit. There wasn't anything in my arsenal today. On a positive note I did argue with them! That didn't shut them up but did confuse me. My head is all muddled. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe if I get some good rest I will feel more positive about myself tomorrow. I go see my therapist Friday morning. I'd like to tell her a success story about how I worked to overcome the self-defeating attitudes. Right now, though, I'm just confused and conflicted.

Diz goes to another doctor

I saw my family doc today. He and I have had this professional relationship for nigh onto 13 years. We know how to communicate with each other.
I told him about the dizzy spells, he asked pertinent questions. He's reducing my dose of the blood pressure meds by half and I will go back for a recheck in a month. We'll see how this goes.

Today was my last day of work until after Christmas. I am extremely tired and hope to catch up on some rest in the next day or two. In two days Christmas will be way too close for me to get any rest. Then after Christmas I'll rest. I hope.

Diz goes to the doctor, and other stuff

I just got back from seeing the doctor. This is my shrink, Dr. B. He doesn't do much, really. My therapist is most helpful. But Dr. B gives me meds, so I keep him around. I told him about being really dizzy and asked if the Wellbutrin would cause this. He said since I've been taking it at this dose for 6 months, it's doubtful that's the problem. Because of the way the dizziness manifests, he thinks it may have more to do with my blood pressure. With the depression season now getting into full swing he was loath to reduce my dosage.
Just this morning I made an appointment to see the family doc, Dr. F, about my blood pressure meds. I only started needing medication for blood pressure problems about 4-5 months ago. Maybe 6. Whatever. He wants to follow up on that, and now seems like a really good time to do so. It was good to be able to tell Dr. B that I have an appointment in 2 days with Dr. F.

Here's another tag line from my email buddy:

"Do not meddle in the affairs of Dragons! Because you are crunchy and taste good with garlic butter. [But then most anything tastes good with garlic butter, just ask the French!]"

Random things that got my attention

I just received an email that has an interesting signature / tag line.

Disclaimer: no trees were harmed in the sending of this message.However, a significant number of electrons were slightly inconvenienced and the ether somewhat disturbed. I am an Alchemist. I know about these things!

There seems to be a mouse in my house. In my bedroom to be precise. When all the children have gone away and it is quiet, I can hear some little rodent gnawing noises in the general vicinity of my closet. Have I mentioned before that I'm a terrible housekeeper? The closet is a nasty mess and the mess extends out from the closet door a good 3-4 feet. (Approximately a meter, for my more enlightened readers.) The point being that there is plenty of potential habitat for rodents. I mentioned the possible presence of rodents in the bedroom to Superman last night. He says he'll set some traps. It is a good idea, I suppose, but I kinda like the idea of a pet mouse in my closet. I don't, however, like mouse poop all over the place, chewed up shoes and god knows what all else in there, and the possibility of stink and disease. Yea, traps are a good idea.

My favorite teacher, for reasons unrelated to school

NB: Not recommended reading for those who don't want to know certain things about certain things that I certainly did when I was a certain younger age!

This gets a bit naughty. J His name was Tom F., and he was my biology teacher in 10^th grade. He was 34, short and stocky in a muscular sense, and had curly black hair with a sprinkling of gorgeous silver gray strands. And his smile melted my heart! I started crushing on him early in the year. I'd hang out in his classroom before school along with a few other kids. I did very well in his class; I'm smart like that. The subject interested me, but the teacher captivated me even more.

Sometime shortly after Christmas break he was attacked in the hall during his lunch duty. A group of punk-kid types jumped him and beat him up. He was out of school on whatever they call that leave for over a month, I can't remember exactly how long. I hadn't realized how much I depended on seeing him until he was gone. I missed him; pined for him. I got really brave and called his house! We talked briefly, I asked about his recovery and how long he'd be out. He told me what had happened, and I think he was trying to sue either the school or the boys who attacked him. I forget. Anyway, I called him a few times, not every day or anything, and I don't think I was terribly annoying. I tried not to be! And eventually he came back to school.

And I spent the mornings before school in his classroom. He had an office at the back of the classroom, with a door and everything. It was the science hall, and he had science-y type stuff in there. It was a fairly big office, really. Long and narrow. About half a dozen or so students would hang out in his classroom or office before school. Or after school. Or during lunch. OK, I was the only one who was there during lunch. J

He'd smile real big when he saw me. My heart beat faster, my head spun. The sexual tension was palpable. But nothing ever happened that entire school year.

Until the last day of school. Hehehe I'm getting giddy just remembering it! We had never even touched each other. But on that last day of school I was sitting on the counter in his office and he passed by me to do something at the other end of the office. When he came back by he stopped, turned to face me, and we fell into an embrace. I don't know who made the first move, but there we were, hugging each other tightly. I was sitting on the counter, he was standing in front of me. We held onto each other for a long, long time. I didn't want that hug to end, and didn't know what would happen when it did end. And he smelled so good! His hair was as soft as I'd imagined, and his shoulders were hard and strong.

The next day was a work day for him, but the students were finished. I went over to the school to see him. We were grinning at each other in that way couples do when they are giddy about each other. Details are fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure we hugged some more. I don't remember kisses; there may have been some, maybe not. He kept the classroom door closed and we spent a few hours just being together, talking some, grinning and hugging. One of the other science teachers was a friend of his. (That guy was really cute, too, in a slender blonde way. I'd have done him, given the opportunity! But I didn't.) At one point either that day or the next, the two of them played tennis out on the courts behind the school. I watched. I suspect the other teacher was aware on some level about what was going on, though I wasn't party to any discussion of that nature. He seemed real cool about me hanging around.

And then the school year was over for the teachers, too. Tom was attending the local college part time, working on his master's degree. I think he wanted to teach at the community college level instead of high school. Anyway, he called me a couple of times and I went with him to the library at the college. I also remember collecting wild plant samples with him in a field beside a major highway one afternoon. Very public, no touchie-touchie. Oh, and now I remember we went to a small state park not too far out of town to do more specimen collection. And that afternoon we had a great make-out session in the back of his van. You've been wondering if/when this was gonna get juicy, I know.

He had a full sized van, Ford, manual transmission, white. It was a cargo body style, basically empty in the back. There may have been one bench seat, I forget. That was before the invention of the minivan, and it was nice and roomy in the back. Being a cargo van it only had windows on the doors, and his windows were tinted very dark. Looking good, huh? That afternoon we did some very heavy petting. Got past third base, but were tagged out before making it all the way to home plate. He stopped it. I wanted to go on. That was the day I discovered that he had a few silver hairs in the pubes, too. I thought it was really sexy, but he was self-conscience about it. I was a bit shy then, and didn't express myself well. That was then, this is now, baby! Were it happening today I'd express myself strongly on how much I like those sexy silver pubes. But I'm telling a tale of long ago.

Sometime over the summer I moved from my mama's house to live with my dad in a city about 2.5 hours north. I obviously went to a different school for my junior year, and Tom transferred to another school in that district, one that was closer to his home. I think the attack he experienced the previous year was the official reason he transferred. So neither of us was at the old school.

But I'd go visit my mama every month or so. I remember being at mama's during the week some, or sometime when she was at work anyway. She of course knew nothing about my involvement with Tom. She had known I was fond of him as my biology teacher, and she probably figured out I had a crush on him. She's not as dumb as my naïve teenage ass thought she was. But she never knew about our meetings.

Sometime during that winter I was back in town visiting Mama. I called him and he came by to pick me up. We went to his place. This was the first time we had been alone together when there was no risk of interruption. It was time. He kept the thermostat low and it was cool in his apartment. He had a waterbed. OK, it was the 70s! We got nekkid, got onto that waterbed, and pretty soon it wasn't so chilly in there. And oh, it was good! This wasn't my first sexual encounter, but he was the most experienced partner I'd ever had. I learned a lot. And I remember he had lots of stamina. We played for a couple of hours, and he must have cum 3 or 4 times.

I remember how old he was because he was exactly twice my age. I thought that was pretty hot. He probably thought it was hot that I was half his age. I was impressed at the stamina of such an old guy! (My, how one's perception of age changes with advancing years!)

That was the best hook-up we ever had. We got together a couple of times after that, but there was no spark at all.

When I end the memory there, it is a good memory. But that isn't all there is. I'm leaving out my impressions and the insight of hindsight with advancing maturity. I am also leaving out at least one tiny detail. He was in a long term committed (or not) relationship with another woman. A woman of his age. They got married a couple of years later. I knew about her, though I seriously doubt she knows anything about me. For her sake I hope she doesn't. Of course back then I didn't care if he had a girlfriend or not. That was then, this is maturity. Tom was, I see now, lacking a lot of maturity.

I was naïve and immature in the way I communicated (or didn't) about what I wanted or expected of this relationship. Seriously, I don't think I gave it a lot of thought. Hell, I was 17! But I had some expectations. I knew he was involved with someone else, but I hoped he'd at least give me a little bit of consideration. I did want some shadow of a relationship with him, even if it didn't last long. But to him I was a fantasy. He had no respect for me as a person. He didn't get to know anything about who I really am. And at 17 I had a lot going on in my head. In so many ways I was, even at 17, more mature than he was at twice that age. He never knew. He never cared. His loss, the fool.

Adam update- Really Good News!!!

As I mentioned earlier, Light is home now until January. Well, she just got a phone call from ADAM!
He's walking! Yes, I said walking!
He was moved from the hospital in their college town today to our new rehabilitation hospital in this backwater little town. No joke, this rehab hospital just opened maybe a month or two ago. Just in time for Adam. So now he's in town, his parents don't have to travel for 1.5 hours to see him, he can make local calls to his local friends, he can have visitors here in his hometown. I'm in awe.
He won't be able to have more than one or two visitors a day for the first few days, so of course that'll be his parents. But hopefully by next weekend his friends can go see him. I want to go with Light when she visits him. I am eager to tell him how much all of you have been concerned and supportive.
His mom will be taking his laptop and gaming system to him tomorrow, so he'll be entertained and hooked up to the world soon.
I'm just thrilled.
A bit more detail about his condition (as I understand it) : He did break some vertebrae in his neck. He broke the two bones that act as the joint upon which his head pivots. He can nod his head up and down, but cannot move it side-to-side. He can motion "yes" but not "no."
I'll post more as I discover it.
Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers for him.

A fellow blogger

Are you familiar with Bossy? She has a wonderfully funny and entertaining blog, and if you've never visited her, you need to remedy that oversight.

I bring her to your attention now because of some not-funny stuff her family has experienced. You might want to check on her.

A few random thoughts, if I can catch them

*Y'all, if you ever see me posting or commenting, and the time stamp looks like this: "posted by Java on December 15, 2007 at 3:24 am," please interrupt me and SHOOT ME! Nag me, fuss, lecture, whatever. Just tell me to get off the computer and go to sleep. I've been exhausted all day long, and it is now tomorrow and I'm still up. Why do I do this to myself?

*I worked on my little essay about my favorite teacher today. I have almost all of it typed out. I need to add my final thoughts on the episode, and go through it for another editing. I sort of planned to do that when I turned on the computer EIGHT f**king hours ago, but I got so caught up in all the other wonderful blogs I never got to it. And I still haven't checked Cooper's blog! Patrick said he's got a new post!

*I've told you about Superman's most recent health drama. But I don't think I mentioned that I've been exceptionally dizzy. I've had some vertigo for years. The meds I'm on pretty much all can cause dizziness. I'm usually a bit of that light-headed kind of dizzy. But ever since Thursday (I think. The daze is running together) I've been seriously run-into-walls, 'bout-fall-over dizzy. The other morning I woke up, lay in a stupor for 15 minutes or so, then sat up. Then fell back. The diz attacked me so strongly it felt like I was being pulled back onto the bed. (And Superman had already gone to the kitchen to start the coffee, so it wasn't him.) (This time.) It wasn't as bad after I got up and got moving, but all day long I'd occasionally have a swell, swoopy swoon of a diz. I suspect this is from too little sleep and too much stress.

* I think I'll go brush the fuzz off my teeth and go to sleep. I need the rest.

Update on Superman's heart

Things are looking up. As I mentioned in the previous post, his heart rate was still irregular when I checked it at 4:30 this morning. But when he woke up around 7:00 it was very regular. He's had a regular heart rate all day! Light took him to the hospital this morning for an echocardiogram. The hospital sent the results to our family doc this afternoon, and he called Superman this evening. The echo was normal. And all the blood tests and x-rays he had last night were normal. There is no physical evidence of anything wrong with his heart. Yippeeeee! *sigh of relief* And Superman reports he's felt fine all day.
Our doc told him to rest, and if he feels OK he can go to work on Monday. I told the silly husband today that he CAN NOT take the truck and collect fire wood from the deadfall in the woods around here, as he was planning to do this weekend. He really wants to. That rest thing is going to be the challenge for him. He feels fine now. There is a lot he wants to do that honestly needs to be done. But he'd better not do too much or else he'll have to answer to ME! Grrrrrrr. (do I sound scary enough?)

Not how I wanted to spend my evening

In the emergency room!

On a bright note, (ha ha) Light got home yesterday evening. She's done with finals, finished with her first semester of college. She's such a sweet and wonderful young woman. I'm extremely proud of her. I used to think that I was a great mommy for producing a daughter like her. Although I did do lots of good mommy things with her, she's turned out the way she is because of who she is. The actions, behaviors, and temperaments of the other children is humbling enough to let me know that Light is the way she is because of who she is more so than anything I did.

Back to the emergency room. Last night Superman was complaining about his heart. It was all fluttery, and his chest had a full feeling, he said. He asked me to check his pulse, and sure enough his beat was very irregular. I called our family doctor (who thankfully was on call. Any of the docs in the office would have been fine to talk to, but I much prefer our fella', you know?) and he strongly recommended that Superman go to the ER. Duh. I was afraid that would be the advice.

So we went to the ER. I dropped him off at the door and went to park the truck. By the time I got back into the waiting area, he was nowhere to be seen. As soon as he got up to the intake window and said he was having heart issues, the guy at the desk called back and had a nurse come whisk him away to the bowels of the treatment area. I asked where he was, and no one in the waiting area could or would tell me anything. I was very frustrated. Again, Duh! No one would let me into the back until his name appeared on their "board," their roster. I wondered for a few minutes, looking firm and concerned but not freaking out. Yay me. I made sure to give the guard at the door the proper spelling of our name, and he promised to let me know as soon as I could go back. Very soon he called me over and gave me a visitor's badge and told me where Superman was. Good!

When I got to the treatment room where they'd taken him, he was hooked up to all sorts of machinery. I think they'd done an ECG by that time. It was less than 10 minutes. I was impressed. And the doctor on his case was a friend of ours from the church we until recently attended. The diagnosis: he has atrial fibrillation, I think he called it. The beats of the upper chambers of Superman's heart are fast and irregular. They took X-rays, scans, blood tests, and everything looked normal except of course for the irregularity of things. They gave him some medicine to slow the heartbeats. That was supposed to also get the rhythm regular. The beats slowed, but stayed irregular.

The doc went ahead and sent him home, but he's got to get an echocardiogram today. Doc called our family doc to tell him what's going on, and to expect a call from us today. I just got up about an hour ago (and I need to leave for work in 2 minutes. I'll be a little bit late.) and I checked his pulse when I woke up. It is still irregular. Shit. I was hoping it would have regulated by now. Shit. The fibrillation increases the chance of clots forming and going to his brain, causing a stroke. Shit. I don't want the man having a stroke. That would really put a damper on my holiday. Shit.

Anyway, I'm going to work. I have a field trip to drive this morning. I'll have about an hour between the end of my regular morning route and the start of the field trip. I'll probably come home and check on the guy, but unless he's really sick I will go on to do the field trip. Light, bless her heart, can take him where he needs to go today. My field trip will take all day, until it is time to start taking all my students back home. I should be finished and back at the bus lot by 4:30, if all goes well. Fridays can be hell. The kids are hyped up for the weekend and tend to be ill-behaved on Fridays. All the kids who've been suspended from the bus for bad behavior are now back on, so it could be rough. I assigned seats yesterday to keep the biggest trouble-makers away from trouble, and yesterday went much better than Wednesday, which was a bitch.

I'm taking my laptop with me today. While the class is busy doing field trippy things, I'll try to catch up on some of the posts I want to submit. I doubt I'll have internet connection, so it'll have to wait until I get home to post, but I can write stuff up anyway.

Ta ta for now.

I’ve been tagged!

The 10 Things Meme

1. When you were born, how much did you weigh? 6 lbs, some number of ounces. 13 maybe? Or 8? I can't remember exactly. I know it was between 6 & 7 lbs.

2. What's your sugar poison?
The tough thing about this is the choosing. Chocolate, obviously, but also a good crisp homemade cookie. Maybe a good crisp homemade chocolate cookie?

3. If you had to choose between meat and cheese for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Then be specific. Cheese. Sometimes I need to bite into a big chunk of steak, but more often I want cheese. So if I had to choose, I'd choose cheese. My current favorite is Vermont White Cheddar, extra sharp. But please don't make me choose only one variety of cheese!

4. What, in your opinion, is the worst song ever?
After giving this question much consideration, I've decided to name "Delta Dawn" as the worst song ever. It was a tough choice, as there are so many truly awful songs.

5. Who was your favorite teacher growing up and why? I won't tell you his full name for reasons that will soon become obvious. Tom F. was my biology teacher my sophomore year in high school. Why was he my favorite teacher? Because I had a tremendous crush on him! He taught me a lot of biology, but it was the physics of mutual attraction that I learned best. I experienced the electricity of standing near him yet not touching. I felt the rush of energy to my very being when he smiled that sexy smile directly at me. There was a pull like that of a magnet guiding me to his classroom. There is a lot of story to tell, but I will save that for another post. Soon, I promise.

6. What personal activity, when performed in public, bothers you the most?
I try really hard not to let that sort of thing bother me. I usually can almost successfully ignore annoying personal grooming habits that seem to irritate most people. But here's the one I find inexcusable: chewing tobacco. The chaw is icky, but the worst part is when the chewer spits out his (and it has always been a "he" in my experience) tobacco juice. I get all queasy thinking about it. *shudder*

7. Ok, there's a $50 bill lying on the ground. You pick it up. Dumbfounded by your incredible luck, what do you selfishly purchase? Gosh, what's on my wish list right now? With $50 cash, I'd probably go to the auto parts store and get a nice pair of side mirrors for my truck, Manny. With $50 in my account, I'd use the debit card to buy more books from Amazon. Probably trashy romance novels. Gay romance novels. I'm a slut for that sort of thing.

8. Do you have a recurring nightmare? If so, explain. I'm in school. Sometimes it's high school, sometimes college. I have classes to attend, but I can't find the classes or can't remember what class I'm supposed to be in. Or I'm supposed to turn in an assignment and I haven't done it. There is a huge exam in a class that I've either forgotten to attend or haven't done any assignments for.

9. Name one place on Earth you've never been, but vow to visit at least once. I could name some place exotic and far-away that I'd like to see, like Great Britain, France, Belgium. But I hesitate to say I vow to visit those places. The one place I really want to go, and actually promise myself I'll visit, is Charlottesville, Virginia. That's within my mind's reach. Great Britain, long a dream of mine, isn't.

10. You notice that question #9 wasn't really a question. You feel smart for catching such a small detail. What else can you do really well that reminds you how smart you are? Joke. Make funny obscure references to academic minutiae. Pick up on subtle jokes made by others who are intelligent and well educated. Hold up my end of a discussion with other intelligent people. Read and post comments on the blogs of the really smart people who share this bit of the blogosphere. Yes, I mean you!

Speaking of intelligent and funny bloggers, I tag tigeryogiji from Ashram at Pooh Corner. I can't wait to read what he has to say!

And speaking of coffee

Superman brought home this poem the other day. I'd like to give credit where credit is due, but all he knows is that it came in an email.

The Starbucks Prayer

Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.

It maketh me to wake in green pastures:

It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.

It restoreth my buzz:

It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for its name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction,

I will fear no Equal™: For thou art with me;

Thy cream and thy sugar they comfort me.

Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of mine barista;

Thou anointest my brain with pep; my mug runneth over.

Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the House of Starbucks forever. Amen.

Bus-ee-ness

It is another day, and not as bad as the last, so far. I slept well, but not long enough. I could be napping now, but I'm blogging instead. I like to blog. J

I spent an hour and a half this morning washing the bus. I hate washing that monster, but I enjoy the fruits of the labor. He looks pretty good. The windows had gotten so dirty that I was having trouble seeing out of them.

The boss called me first thing this morning, before I was even out of the bus lot. He asked me when my bus got shot. Huh??? I took yesterday afternoon off to take Diva to the doctor, so didn't drive. The boss ended up driving the bus back into the lot yesterday and noticed bullet marks on the side. I'd not noticed. We looked at it in the light of the streetlamp there on the lot. One of the marks is rusted over, so it's obviously old. One if them I think I've seen before. But one is new, I think. They are small marks, and look like "pings" to me, like maybe a rock got kicked up and hit the side. Upon closer examination they do look more like dents made by a BB gun or pellet gun. I have no idea when or where that may have happened. When he first asked about it he had an accusatory tone. If I'd thought of it at the time I'd have said "Well, I didn't shoot the damn thing, if that's what you're asking." But I didn't think of that until later. His demeanor softened somewhat as we were looking at the marks. I asked if I could shoot back!

This is a little bit like what my bus looks like. But not really. I'll take a picture of ol' Henry (my bus) and post it here soon.

I’m having a bad day

It isn't the kind of bad day where bad stuff keeps happening. Actually things have gone pretty smoothly. It is my brain that's revolting. (yes, take that both ways) I'm crabby and bitchy. And sad. For no apparent reason.

I went into the drug store to pick up one of Twitch's anti-twitch medicines. It was horrible. I got so depressed looking at the Christmas decorations. The sale labels on the shelf made me sad. The display of skin lotion in the aisle almost made me cry. The carpet on the floor put me in a funk. The red Formica at the pharmacy counter was too much to bear. This isn't healthy.

And speaking of not healthy, my brain is telling me things that all the counseling I've had instructs me not to listen to. Stuff like "I'm a failure." "Get over yourself." "Can't you just do what needs to be done without being such a wimp?" "I'm useless." Yup, one of those days. I'm sure some of you know exactly what I mean.

I got into another argument with Twitch tonight. It was more of a bitch session than an argument, really, and he handled it much better than I did. I bitched at him, he yelled at me. Then he beat a hasty retreat. He's no dummy. A few minutes later he came back and calmly explained the contradictions he heard in my arguments. He was right, and I apologized. But the whole thing was frustrating, particularly the subject of the argument.

And here's where I'm a failure. He's hungry. He's a very large (over 6' now, I think, and hunky. Soft jelly belly with a lot of mass underneath.) 16 year old boy. Of course he's hungry. And there isn't a lot of food in the house right now, at least nothing that's easy to fix. He got down a can of chicken from the stash Superman had tried to hide from him. He put it in a bowl, poured some kind of goopy stuff on it (I didn't pay attention to what it was) and ate the whole can worth of chicken. And I was planning to use the canned chicken to make a simple chicken and dumpling soupy mush thing. Shit, boy! I hollered.

Here's where the whole failure thing comes into play. I don't usually cook dinner anymore. Superman does it if anything gets cooked at all. Many evenings the kids are left to scrounge what they can from leftovers, cans of soup, and mac&cheese boxes. Yuck. And there is very little of the simple stuff left on the shelves right now. I was actually planning to cook that dumpling mush tonight, but none of the kids knew that. So to come out and find him eating a can of chicken… well, it is largely my fault. None of them knows if or when I'm planning to cook, and they are used to feeding themselves, so it comes as no surprise to find him feeding himself. If (and here's the bullshit again) I were a good mommy, a proper provider for my family, I would have some nutritious meals planned, the ingredients stocked, and preparation underway or at least set up when we get home in the evening. But I don't. Shit.

Having already blown my cool, my emotions were on edge. Sproing walks into the kitchen with his boxers hanging out the top of his pants. I flipped out. He is not going to walk around looking like a gangsta', emulating all the worst aspects of today's delinquent youth culture. Yada yada, bitch, fuss, yell, lecture. He makes excuses, denies the intent; which may or may not be true, but I can't hear it just now.

To top it all off, it seems the kidlets have no clothes to wear. They used to. They did very recently. But now their clothes are nowhere to be found. How does this happen? No kidlet clothes in the dirty laundry, none folded on the counter, none in their shelves or drawers, none on the bathroom floor, almost none on the bedroom floor. Where the hell are their clothes???? I am aware they both need new socks. I've been throwing away holey socks for some time now, and the supply is depleted. Diva needs new underwear. She's grown a lot over the past 6 months or so and really needs a new supply. But she allegedly has lots of pairs of pants, many shirts. Sproing has shirts, and at least a few pants. But where are they? Shit.

I'm gonna pop a Fuckitall and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to deal. A good night sleep would have helped a lot. Right now I've only got time for an almost reasonable night's sleep.