No Time For Titles.
How incredibly lazy. I know. It's like turning the heat up when the house gets a chill, instead of putting on warmer clothes first. Ok, I'm over it. I just had to bring it up one last time. I promise to never bring it up again.
To date I am holding an "A" in my class. I got a 96 on the first test, and a 91 on the test that stressed me out all last week. It was so difficult to find the time to get ready for that one, but I somehow pulled that one out of my shoe.
Hubby is home. I love it when he's home. I miss him dearly when he is gone, but I always know that it is just a week at a time. He's a good man. The man has guts. I'm serious. The Marine Corps lost when they let him go. I'm glad he's not in the Corps anymore. We're making a lot more money now, and we can settle in, and frankly, no wife wants her hubby to go off to war. He served 13 years, that was apparently enough.
Why am I bringing up that old trash you wonder? Well, one of the younger Marines he used to work with, I'll call him Sgt. P, called the other day. Sgt. P is picking up Staff Sergeant, the rank my husband was repeatedly denied for promotion, which ultimately led to him being "forced out" and, he wants my hubby to make the 10 hour drive there to pin it on him. I remember when my husband would talk about how people would feel really honored if someone asked them to pin them. It is an honor.
Sgt. P. said to me, "wow, I really owe it all to your hubby, he taught me everything." I suppose that might be true, he did really look up to my husband, I do remember that. He always said my husband taught him so much about being a sergeant of Marines, and it's true, my husband has a certain leadership quality about him, he is often the center of attention in any room, or group, people tend to look to him for guidance. The man still calls my hubby Sgt. Which my husband laughed about. It's been 3 years since he left, he's put it behind him, he told me as much.
The thing is, Sgt. P. is still very much in the whole thing, my husband has had to let all that go and move on, he's so over it. He let it all go. I do notice though he kept some of the better traits he developed in the Corps, which is great, I could live without all the cursing though. I've met many former Marines who have gone on to be wildly successful at something else, and my husband is already on a new path where he is doing great things.
Sure it is an honor to be asked, I'm sure my husband is flattered by it. Will he make the drive? I'm just not sure about that. It would depend on several different factors. Bittersweet is a word quite befitting in this situation. I'm glad Sgt. P. is picking up the rank. The guy will be eligible to retire now, and that is a good thing. The military retirement, if the gov. doesn't go about jacking it all up is a very good deal, probably one of the best out there for the working man.
I guess we will have to wait and see. Thanks for listening.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Nouns That I Am So Over
List In Progress.
I'm so over a lot of things lately. Here's the short list:
1. Toe Rings, particularly second toe--toe rings. They are ugly, and so over. Seriously, I hate your little silver toe ring. I hate it. And while I do hate it, of course I respect your right to do that which I hate because deep down I know what I think doesn't really matter, but I'm just speaking of things that I am so over, and that I hate, which happens to include your stupid little toe ring, on your second toe. Gosh I'm so mean.
2. Vegans. Vegans who whine about being hungry all the time. Bonk! Eat some frickin meat. I can't stand them. I can say that here. Vegans get on my nerves. Every vegan I've ever encountered, and unfortunately that number is way too high has always been a whiny, smarmy, cranky little twit that acts all superior. They always have to announce it like they are saving the world or something. Go stuff a soybean and eat it.
3. Grouchy old people. Grump is so unattractive in the elderly. I can't help it, this one is difficult for me. Grumpy old people are my worst nightmare, they show me what I could be like, what my loved one's could be like one day, and I don't like it. I like to think that as I pass through life I will continue to find ways to get through things, including things that make me unhappy. I hate the idea of being a mean old person, it's like I never grew up and learned how to cope with things or something. I would feel like I wasted my life that way.
4. High maintenance upper middle class chicks with the blonde highlights. Gawd I hate the blonde high lights. Particularly annoying on women with nasty attitudes (the I, I, Me Syndrome) who wear the stupid toe rings. These woman are just as eye rollingly bitchy as their low class counterparts who listen to rap music and name their children after hip hop singers. Go drive your super gigantic SUV* up a flag pole.
5. Perky types who talk about losing weight, low carbs and working out ALL OF THE FRICKIN' TIME. This may not be nice to say, but SHUT UP! You are not fat, quit trying to make everything all about you. Grow up.
Go ahead make my list. I dare you.
*Of course not all SUV drivers are bad. I happen to be one myself. It's just the enormous 12 seaters hogging up the whole road, which are inevitably driven by some total dill weed that get on my nerves. I can't help it. I'm just saying what I'm really thinking.
I'm sorry I'm so mean. I'm also really nice too, it just doesn't sound like it right now.
I'm so over a lot of things lately. Here's the short list:
1. Toe Rings, particularly second toe--toe rings. They are ugly, and so over. Seriously, I hate your little silver toe ring. I hate it. And while I do hate it, of course I respect your right to do that which I hate because deep down I know what I think doesn't really matter, but I'm just speaking of things that I am so over, and that I hate, which happens to include your stupid little toe ring, on your second toe. Gosh I'm so mean.
2. Vegans. Vegans who whine about being hungry all the time. Bonk! Eat some frickin meat. I can't stand them. I can say that here. Vegans get on my nerves. Every vegan I've ever encountered, and unfortunately that number is way too high has always been a whiny, smarmy, cranky little twit that acts all superior. They always have to announce it like they are saving the world or something. Go stuff a soybean and eat it.
3. Grouchy old people. Grump is so unattractive in the elderly. I can't help it, this one is difficult for me. Grumpy old people are my worst nightmare, they show me what I could be like, what my loved one's could be like one day, and I don't like it. I like to think that as I pass through life I will continue to find ways to get through things, including things that make me unhappy. I hate the idea of being a mean old person, it's like I never grew up and learned how to cope with things or something. I would feel like I wasted my life that way.
4. High maintenance upper middle class chicks with the blonde highlights. Gawd I hate the blonde high lights. Particularly annoying on women with nasty attitudes (the I, I, Me Syndrome) who wear the stupid toe rings. These woman are just as eye rollingly bitchy as their low class counterparts who listen to rap music and name their children after hip hop singers. Go drive your super gigantic SUV* up a flag pole.
5. Perky types who talk about losing weight, low carbs and working out ALL OF THE FRICKIN' TIME. This may not be nice to say, but SHUT UP! You are not fat, quit trying to make everything all about you. Grow up.
Go ahead make my list. I dare you.
*Of course not all SUV drivers are bad. I happen to be one myself. It's just the enormous 12 seaters hogging up the whole road, which are inevitably driven by some total dill weed that get on my nerves. I can't help it. I'm just saying what I'm really thinking.
I'm sorry I'm so mean. I'm also really nice too, it just doesn't sound like it right now.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Oh Yah
I've Got Something To Say About It.
Yes, one of Samantha Burns' cartoons reminded me of something I heard on the radio the other day. It seems that the dualing egomaniacs Brad "gay wad" Pitt and Angelina "big lips" Jolie are not going to get married until gay marriage is legal. "We're famous and we're throwing an international tantrum!"
Is that so? Yeah, well, I'm heartbroken. Are they still even citizens of this country? Or perhaps I should be asking of this planet because that kind of arrogance is so freaking far out into the atmosphere we can't be sure.
Cry me a river. I think they should both just go stuff a turkey with themselves.
Yes, one of Samantha Burns' cartoons reminded me of something I heard on the radio the other day. It seems that the dualing egomaniacs Brad "gay wad" Pitt and Angelina "big lips" Jolie are not going to get married until gay marriage is legal. "We're famous and we're throwing an international tantrum!"
Is that so? Yeah, well, I'm heartbroken. Are they still even citizens of this country? Or perhaps I should be asking of this planet because that kind of arrogance is so freaking far out into the atmosphere we can't be sure.
Cry me a river. I think they should both just go stuff a turkey with themselves.
As Soon As I Can
Hopefully Soon.
After I take a shower, go to my mom's, do some chores for her, run to the store for her, then go pick up the kids at school at 3:00 p.m., bring them home, make a snack, clean up the snack, chill out for a few, start cooking an actual meal, crack open my book and read at least one of the 2 chapters I will be taking a test on BEFORE next tuesday, after all of that is done, I will come and post something.
I've had a ton of ideas swirling around in this head of mind, and not one moment to sit down at the computer. I could have done it this morning when I got back from taking my kiddo to school, but let me be honest, my bed just looked too inviting. I took a nap instead where I dreamed about work, and actually told off a rude customer, which would never happen, which is why the dream was so pleasant, and I didn't want to wake up from it when the phone rang, but I had to. It's my own fault for putting the phone on the pillow where my husband usually sleeps, "just in case" someone calls me.
So Mr. Conner and I had to get up, and he's here now meowing at me wondering why we can't go back to bed like the normal cats do. It should be obvious to the cat, but he refuses to admit that the dog should get his turn too. I know the dog is all sprawled out in the bed all day when we aren't home, when we are out working our rumps off. We work hard so our pets don't have to. Which has caused me on more than one occasion to admit to myself that man is not actually top dog in this world. The real top is the American house pet. They are truly the most prosperous and spoiled species in all of the world, and maybe even the universe I imagine.
The hairy beasts do nothing all day but wait for the bowl to be filled, the water refreshed, they inhabit all corners of the home while the "owners" of said home are out doing whatever is required of them to pay the actual mortgage. It is deliciously entertaining to think of it as it really is, the pets are the ones who get to actually enjoy the new homes the most, having the whole place to themselves a lot of the time.
Oh well, I suppose it's worth it knowing that no intruder will happen onto an empty house. Here he will find no room in the bed, and cats that will definitely get his burgular suit all hairy by rubbing up against him and trying to cuddle. I'm not sure what my dog would really do if someone broke in, but I think the idea is that most burgulars would rather not find out, and would just as happily pilfer through the underwear drawers of some other home.
Well, I've got to run. Be back soon.
After I take a shower, go to my mom's, do some chores for her, run to the store for her, then go pick up the kids at school at 3:00 p.m., bring them home, make a snack, clean up the snack, chill out for a few, start cooking an actual meal, crack open my book and read at least one of the 2 chapters I will be taking a test on BEFORE next tuesday, after all of that is done, I will come and post something.
I've had a ton of ideas swirling around in this head of mind, and not one moment to sit down at the computer. I could have done it this morning when I got back from taking my kiddo to school, but let me be honest, my bed just looked too inviting. I took a nap instead where I dreamed about work, and actually told off a rude customer, which would never happen, which is why the dream was so pleasant, and I didn't want to wake up from it when the phone rang, but I had to. It's my own fault for putting the phone on the pillow where my husband usually sleeps, "just in case" someone calls me.
So Mr. Conner and I had to get up, and he's here now meowing at me wondering why we can't go back to bed like the normal cats do. It should be obvious to the cat, but he refuses to admit that the dog should get his turn too. I know the dog is all sprawled out in the bed all day when we aren't home, when we are out working our rumps off. We work hard so our pets don't have to. Which has caused me on more than one occasion to admit to myself that man is not actually top dog in this world. The real top is the American house pet. They are truly the most prosperous and spoiled species in all of the world, and maybe even the universe I imagine.
The hairy beasts do nothing all day but wait for the bowl to be filled, the water refreshed, they inhabit all corners of the home while the "owners" of said home are out doing whatever is required of them to pay the actual mortgage. It is deliciously entertaining to think of it as it really is, the pets are the ones who get to actually enjoy the new homes the most, having the whole place to themselves a lot of the time.
Oh well, I suppose it's worth it knowing that no intruder will happen onto an empty house. Here he will find no room in the bed, and cats that will definitely get his burgular suit all hairy by rubbing up against him and trying to cuddle. I'm not sure what my dog would really do if someone broke in, but I think the idea is that most burgulars would rather not find out, and would just as happily pilfer through the underwear drawers of some other home.
Well, I've got to run. Be back soon.
Friday, September 15, 2006
What's Needed Here
Just A Little Balance.
Had my first test this week, I was the first one done, which may or may not be a good thing, but I feel pretty confident that none of the questions stumped me too bad. It feels so good to be back in school. Going back has been something I've wanted to do for years, but I could just never make it happen.
I'm still working 32 hours a week at my job, and taking one class this semester. I'm hoping I can take 2 classes next time. I'm paying for it with cash so it's all going to depend on the money situation. Lordy, when did books get so expensive? My book for one class was $116.00.
There is a woman in my class that still doesn't have her book, I don't know why she doesn't, it's not my business really. She sits and looks over the shoulder of this guy, that would really annoy me. I hope she never sits next to me, I just might get up and move. I have no idea how she studied for the test or anything, it's really bizarre. We're a month into the class now, and she has no book.
Hubby still is a week on and a week off, on the week he's gone I've got to work hard to keep everything in balance. Last week the house got out of balance, everything was strewn all over, and the floors needed vaccuumed.
Our normal routines and schedules have been disrupted by sickness, injuries, appointments, and so on, everything is out of whack. All of the routines have been shaken up, tossed around and disturbed. Honestly, I'm not even rigid about routines, but as busy as we are we've got to have some sort of consistency.
I'm trying not to get too overwhelmed with it all. My mother in law has helped with the house and dishes, she will be moving out next month though. She probably thinks we're a bunch of pigs, but she doesn't say so. We're not really.
I came to the realization that I'm not a housewife. I need to stop trying to act like one. I also informed my husband that I am not a housewife, therefore I can't be solely responsible for the housework. He got it, he's been so helpful. I just want him to come home and just relax on his time off, but he does help enough that we have a good balance when we want to. That's what it's all about.
Had my first test this week, I was the first one done, which may or may not be a good thing, but I feel pretty confident that none of the questions stumped me too bad. It feels so good to be back in school. Going back has been something I've wanted to do for years, but I could just never make it happen.
I'm still working 32 hours a week at my job, and taking one class this semester. I'm hoping I can take 2 classes next time. I'm paying for it with cash so it's all going to depend on the money situation. Lordy, when did books get so expensive? My book for one class was $116.00.
There is a woman in my class that still doesn't have her book, I don't know why she doesn't, it's not my business really. She sits and looks over the shoulder of this guy, that would really annoy me. I hope she never sits next to me, I just might get up and move. I have no idea how she studied for the test or anything, it's really bizarre. We're a month into the class now, and she has no book.
Hubby still is a week on and a week off, on the week he's gone I've got to work hard to keep everything in balance. Last week the house got out of balance, everything was strewn all over, and the floors needed vaccuumed.
Our normal routines and schedules have been disrupted by sickness, injuries, appointments, and so on, everything is out of whack. All of the routines have been shaken up, tossed around and disturbed. Honestly, I'm not even rigid about routines, but as busy as we are we've got to have some sort of consistency.
I'm trying not to get too overwhelmed with it all. My mother in law has helped with the house and dishes, she will be moving out next month though. She probably thinks we're a bunch of pigs, but she doesn't say so. We're not really.
I came to the realization that I'm not a housewife. I need to stop trying to act like one. I also informed my husband that I am not a housewife, therefore I can't be solely responsible for the housework. He got it, he's been so helpful. I just want him to come home and just relax on his time off, but he does help enough that we have a good balance when we want to. That's what it's all about.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
The Kiddo's Blog
Glad I Let Her Try It.
Had I known that making her a little blog would get her interested in writing I would have done it a long time ago. Yes, I do edit her posts for spelling and gramatical errors, as best as I can, I make plenty of my own mistakes I'm sure. I ask her questions about what she's writing to get her to work on filling in the blanks here and there.
Usually what I do is have her sit down and write her post, then I tell her not to post it until I read it. Then we sit here together and go through the post before submitting it. So far it's been a great experience for both of us. Reading and writing have been very trying subjects for her, and anything that makes her interested in either is thrilling for me.
She seems to want to write a lot about the cats, and her dad and I, but as I said, anything is better than nothing. It's been a struggle for years trying to get her to have any interest in anything in print at all, I'm happy about it.
It's not just good for her reading and writing, it's a positive creative outlet for her as well. She wanted a myspace account, but honestly, myspace seems kind of raunchy to me, it rings too much of an aol chat room type thing. On the blog I actually have a lot more control over the interactions because I can shut off comments if some dippy doo comes around trying to cause trouble, and I read everything before it is posted to ensure she is not inadvertantly giving out personal information. She can still do templates, and post pictures and stuff on her blog. She's just a beginner and like her momma knows nothing about html either.
Soon enough I suppose she'll completely surpass me in computer knowledge. I can't wait.
Had I known that making her a little blog would get her interested in writing I would have done it a long time ago. Yes, I do edit her posts for spelling and gramatical errors, as best as I can, I make plenty of my own mistakes I'm sure. I ask her questions about what she's writing to get her to work on filling in the blanks here and there.
Usually what I do is have her sit down and write her post, then I tell her not to post it until I read it. Then we sit here together and go through the post before submitting it. So far it's been a great experience for both of us. Reading and writing have been very trying subjects for her, and anything that makes her interested in either is thrilling for me.
She seems to want to write a lot about the cats, and her dad and I, but as I said, anything is better than nothing. It's been a struggle for years trying to get her to have any interest in anything in print at all, I'm happy about it.
It's not just good for her reading and writing, it's a positive creative outlet for her as well. She wanted a myspace account, but honestly, myspace seems kind of raunchy to me, it rings too much of an aol chat room type thing. On the blog I actually have a lot more control over the interactions because I can shut off comments if some dippy doo comes around trying to cause trouble, and I read everything before it is posted to ensure she is not inadvertantly giving out personal information. She can still do templates, and post pictures and stuff on her blog. She's just a beginner and like her momma knows nothing about html either.
Soon enough I suppose she'll completely surpass me in computer knowledge. I can't wait.
I Went To The Doctor Again
Again. (rated at least PG-13)
Was doing pretty good after the horrific head, nose, throat and chest "cold", but then my ears decided they weren't getting enough attention and my left ear just completely stopped working at all. Then as if that wasn't enough, it filled up with fluid and just kind of sat there like "heh heh." Experience told me that all that fluid hanging out in there just might become painful as the bacteria started having orgies and reproducing themselves in numbers that don't work out neatly like triplicate, or quadruplicate, but are much more complicated than that.
I now have the Doctor's phone number programmed into my cell phone, and make appointments while I'm on my way to wherever it is I am always having to go, I think it's safe to say we are now on a first name basis. Not only that, but now I am scheduled for all sorts of other appointments, like at some point I will be having a tube stuffed up my nose and down into my stomach to look at my esophagus, or something to that effect, and then I have to call back and have the other end looked at as well. Not the other end of my digestive tract, but the part that women love to talk about in mixed company just to see the guys squirm when they think about it. Yeah, that one.
Christine did not like the fact that it's been over 6 years since I've had the dreaded PAP smear, I told her I haven't missed it one bit. She said, "Now listen here, you are going to come in here, and I am going to have a look up your cooter, and you're going to be thankful for it, and I am going to share the information with your insurance company so please do take the appropriate measures and make sure everything is in order and nice and neat when you come in, you don't want this to be a topic at our next staff meeting do you? Well?"
That's just for me, we also planned appointments for the kiddo as well. She had bloodwork done last week and has to go and do the test again because frankly, someone was incompetent at the lab and didn't shake the tube up and it clotted, but hey, Christine figured that would be a good time for me to go and get my test done too. Which was really smart of her I think.
I left there thinking, wow, I can never leave this place, I've finally found a Doctor's office I love. Now I must sound like I go to the Doctor all the time. I promise that I don't. It's just a lot of things have come about all at once, and well it's a pain in the butt making appointments and things, if you have one that's willing to get as much done as possible in one visit, you better do it.
Oh and she gave me some antibiotics for my ears.
Was doing pretty good after the horrific head, nose, throat and chest "cold", but then my ears decided they weren't getting enough attention and my left ear just completely stopped working at all. Then as if that wasn't enough, it filled up with fluid and just kind of sat there like "heh heh." Experience told me that all that fluid hanging out in there just might become painful as the bacteria started having orgies and reproducing themselves in numbers that don't work out neatly like triplicate, or quadruplicate, but are much more complicated than that.
I now have the Doctor's phone number programmed into my cell phone, and make appointments while I'm on my way to wherever it is I am always having to go, I think it's safe to say we are now on a first name basis. Not only that, but now I am scheduled for all sorts of other appointments, like at some point I will be having a tube stuffed up my nose and down into my stomach to look at my esophagus, or something to that effect, and then I have to call back and have the other end looked at as well. Not the other end of my digestive tract, but the part that women love to talk about in mixed company just to see the guys squirm when they think about it. Yeah, that one.
Christine did not like the fact that it's been over 6 years since I've had the dreaded PAP smear, I told her I haven't missed it one bit. She said, "Now listen here, you are going to come in here, and I am going to have a look up your cooter, and you're going to be thankful for it, and I am going to share the information with your insurance company so please do take the appropriate measures and make sure everything is in order and nice and neat when you come in, you don't want this to be a topic at our next staff meeting do you? Well?"
That's just for me, we also planned appointments for the kiddo as well. She had bloodwork done last week and has to go and do the test again because frankly, someone was incompetent at the lab and didn't shake the tube up and it clotted, but hey, Christine figured that would be a good time for me to go and get my test done too. Which was really smart of her I think.
I left there thinking, wow, I can never leave this place, I've finally found a Doctor's office I love. Now I must sound like I go to the Doctor all the time. I promise that I don't. It's just a lot of things have come about all at once, and well it's a pain in the butt making appointments and things, if you have one that's willing to get as much done as possible in one visit, you better do it.
Oh and she gave me some antibiotics for my ears.
I Have A Dirty Little Secret
It Won't Be Much Longer.
I've fallen off the wagon. I'm clinging desperately to the back of the wagon and it's speeding off without me, we all know wagons don't move that fast but you get the drift, all of which reminds me of my friend falling out of her girl scout troop leader's Winnebago back in third grade. Who delivers girl scout cookies in a frickin' camper? Those were decadent times indeed, gas must have only cost a whopping 85 cents a gallon back then anyway.
Lately I've slipped. I've gone from being a militant non-smoker, to a tolerant non-smoker willing to smoke 3 or 4 cigarettes a day. Usually at the end of the day in the evening, I find myself sitting on the front porch, listening to the crickets chirp and sucking down a good old fag. What's worse is how much I enjoy doing that. I put the butt in the flower pot on the porch and move on thinking, "no one has to know." People are on to me though.
I can't hide the secret any longer, what's worse, the urges are getting stronger, I'm wanting more and more now, yet I have not bought a pack, which means not only am I falling off the wagon, I'm also becoming a huge cigarette mooch and there is just no dignity in that at all. I know where to go to get one, people see me coming and clutch their packs a little closer now. They know that not only am I going to smoke one with them, I'm going to take a couple for the road, or for the porch later that night where I can sit and enjoy my smoke in the dark with no one looking.
I'm a bad bad woman with horrid breath. The mistake was thinking I could smoke 2 or 3 harmless cigarettes a day and that would be it, but no, the beast does not work like that. It's all or nothing. My body has begun the cravings again. There is nothing else for me to do now before it's too late, but to head to Wal-Greens and buy the smallest dose of the nicotine patch and get back on the wagon, firmly. What the heck does that mean anyway? Who's wagon, and are there going to be pumpkins there? Will there be hay because when I say that I always imagine a bunch of alcoholics and drug addicts sober together on a sort of hay ride at the pumpkin patch type thing.
I have not given up, I can't let it continue though. The patch works, I will use it again. Prepare for more nutty upheaval as my mood readjusts to life without nicotine again. I know I can have fresh breath again if I only just try.
I've fallen off the wagon. I'm clinging desperately to the back of the wagon and it's speeding off without me, we all know wagons don't move that fast but you get the drift, all of which reminds me of my friend falling out of her girl scout troop leader's Winnebago back in third grade. Who delivers girl scout cookies in a frickin' camper? Those were decadent times indeed, gas must have only cost a whopping 85 cents a gallon back then anyway.
Lately I've slipped. I've gone from being a militant non-smoker, to a tolerant non-smoker willing to smoke 3 or 4 cigarettes a day. Usually at the end of the day in the evening, I find myself sitting on the front porch, listening to the crickets chirp and sucking down a good old fag. What's worse is how much I enjoy doing that. I put the butt in the flower pot on the porch and move on thinking, "no one has to know." People are on to me though.
I can't hide the secret any longer, what's worse, the urges are getting stronger, I'm wanting more and more now, yet I have not bought a pack, which means not only am I falling off the wagon, I'm also becoming a huge cigarette mooch and there is just no dignity in that at all. I know where to go to get one, people see me coming and clutch their packs a little closer now. They know that not only am I going to smoke one with them, I'm going to take a couple for the road, or for the porch later that night where I can sit and enjoy my smoke in the dark with no one looking.
I'm a bad bad woman with horrid breath. The mistake was thinking I could smoke 2 or 3 harmless cigarettes a day and that would be it, but no, the beast does not work like that. It's all or nothing. My body has begun the cravings again. There is nothing else for me to do now before it's too late, but to head to Wal-Greens and buy the smallest dose of the nicotine patch and get back on the wagon, firmly. What the heck does that mean anyway? Who's wagon, and are there going to be pumpkins there? Will there be hay because when I say that I always imagine a bunch of alcoholics and drug addicts sober together on a sort of hay ride at the pumpkin patch type thing.
I have not given up, I can't let it continue though. The patch works, I will use it again. Prepare for more nutty upheaval as my mood readjusts to life without nicotine again. I know I can have fresh breath again if I only just try.
Monday, September 11, 2006
May I Direct Your Attention
To My Kid's Blog.
Note the originality in the name. This is her space, I assist her with some of her posting, but so far it's been up to her what she puts on there. Check it out.
Note the originality in the name. This is her space, I assist her with some of her posting, but so far it's been up to her what she puts on there. Check it out.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Getting Your Karmic Just Desserts
Ever Feel Like That?
Spirituality or a belief that virtue is rewarded and sin creates suffering eventually leads to a belief in Karma.
I often hear myself saying, "well, he/she's racking up some really bad karma..." And so on. I've even caught myself saying, "I guess I had that coming, karma or something."
Lately, I've felt that maybe I was getting a little karmic payback or something, I do realize that might be an irrational thought. You see, things were just going too darn good for us, we bought the house, hubby got a $6.00/hour raise over the period of a month, I've been doing quite well at work, I started school--after years of not being able to make that happen for myself--I even quit smoking, we're driving new cars--at the same time EVEN. We're doing all right.
I have felt that maybe I've been too uppity lately and that is why I've been taken down a few notches, karmic payback if you will. I threw my back out, I've been sick, and so on. Maybe I had it coming. Maybe I was getting a little too boastful about how great things are going for us. Perhaps I haven't shown my gratitude, or even mentioned it enough.
The thing about karma is, we are not better people than anyone else, but we did make choices in our lives that got us to this point. That's where karma fails. Karma would suggest that things are going good for us because we've done or been good, and that's just not the case, sure we've done good, been good, but no more than anyone else I would guess. If anything we've been the recipients of good works and deeds of other people much more than we've given.
Maybe there are karmic forces out there paying back the good and bad deeds of people, I don't know. It is an interesting thing to think about. Christians would probably say it's wrong to believe in karma, but I think it's strikingly close to concepts in Christianity and spirituality in many ways even if referred to by another name.
In any event, it doesn't hurt to strive to be a good person, and do good work anyway. Being a good person is truly a spiritual matter. I realized that one day, it's not a matter of intelligence at all. Someone can be dumb as a box of rocks and still be a good person, while there are people of genius level intelligence who are not morally good. Something to think about really. Sure intelligence is important, but it doesn't necessarily guarantee a good soul.
Spirituality or a belief that virtue is rewarded and sin creates suffering eventually leads to a belief in Karma.
I often hear myself saying, "well, he/she's racking up some really bad karma..." And so on. I've even caught myself saying, "I guess I had that coming, karma or something."
Lately, I've felt that maybe I was getting a little karmic payback or something, I do realize that might be an irrational thought. You see, things were just going too darn good for us, we bought the house, hubby got a $6.00/hour raise over the period of a month, I've been doing quite well at work, I started school--after years of not being able to make that happen for myself--I even quit smoking, we're driving new cars--at the same time EVEN. We're doing all right.
I have felt that maybe I've been too uppity lately and that is why I've been taken down a few notches, karmic payback if you will. I threw my back out, I've been sick, and so on. Maybe I had it coming. Maybe I was getting a little too boastful about how great things are going for us. Perhaps I haven't shown my gratitude, or even mentioned it enough.
The thing about karma is, we are not better people than anyone else, but we did make choices in our lives that got us to this point. That's where karma fails. Karma would suggest that things are going good for us because we've done or been good, and that's just not the case, sure we've done good, been good, but no more than anyone else I would guess. If anything we've been the recipients of good works and deeds of other people much more than we've given.
Maybe there are karmic forces out there paying back the good and bad deeds of people, I don't know. It is an interesting thing to think about. Christians would probably say it's wrong to believe in karma, but I think it's strikingly close to concepts in Christianity and spirituality in many ways even if referred to by another name.
In any event, it doesn't hurt to strive to be a good person, and do good work anyway. Being a good person is truly a spiritual matter. I realized that one day, it's not a matter of intelligence at all. Someone can be dumb as a box of rocks and still be a good person, while there are people of genius level intelligence who are not morally good. Something to think about really. Sure intelligence is important, but it doesn't necessarily guarantee a good soul.
Well, I Went To The Doctor
I'm Going To Live.
No, I'm not being serious, I knew I would live, but I still felt like I got "pulled through a knot hole," as my mother would say. Yep, I'm gonna live, she didn't even prescribe me antibiotics, which truthfully I was a bit disappointed because I really thought I needed them. She did give me some narcotic strength cough syrup, and told me to take mucinex. Good thing is the narco-syrup is not expensive, last time I went to pick up medicines it cost me nearly $100. Anyway, I'll be done with it all soon I hope. At least I can cough the junk up now hopefully without feeling like I'm actually coughing up giant pieces of my lung in the process.
Maybe just maybe I will be able to sleep better. I've had an awful time trying to sleep, I don't even remember what a full night's sleep feels like anymore. I'm going to have to suck it up and go to work tomorrow whether I feel like it or not. Pray it's not busy.
That's about it. I'm just really tired of being sick.
No, I'm not being serious, I knew I would live, but I still felt like I got "pulled through a knot hole," as my mother would say. Yep, I'm gonna live, she didn't even prescribe me antibiotics, which truthfully I was a bit disappointed because I really thought I needed them. She did give me some narcotic strength cough syrup, and told me to take mucinex. Good thing is the narco-syrup is not expensive, last time I went to pick up medicines it cost me nearly $100. Anyway, I'll be done with it all soon I hope. At least I can cough the junk up now hopefully without feeling like I'm actually coughing up giant pieces of my lung in the process.
Maybe just maybe I will be able to sleep better. I've had an awful time trying to sleep, I don't even remember what a full night's sleep feels like anymore. I'm going to have to suck it up and go to work tomorrow whether I feel like it or not. Pray it's not busy.
That's about it. I'm just really tired of being sick.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
You Don't Want What I Have
Trust Me.
I knew it was a nasty bugger when my daughter was sick with it. I was even worried that she might end up in the hospital with it because she has other health problems. The anti-biotics they prescribed her really helped knock the teeth out of the thing. After a day or so of them she was able to go back to school. She ended up missing 2 days of school, if last Monday hadn't of been a holiday, she would have missed 3 days total with this thing. She came down with it Sunday night, and didn't end up going to school until Thursday.
Today is my second day of work I will have missed because of this nasty bugger. There is just no way I could go and do my job like this, besides, other people don't want to be infected with my junk either. I stayed home. I need anti-biotics to whip this thing. So, either I wait until Monday and go to the doctor, or I find some sort of clinic thing like urgent care, which I'm not sure if our insurance will cover.
Vhat to do, vhat to do? My daughter got sick twice while my husband was transitioning into his new job, there was a 4 month wait for the insurance to kick in--that's 2 visits not covered by insurance, to include lab work. Last week I had to take her to the E.R. to get stitches because she busted open her eyebrow when she and the dog knocked their hard skulls together. I had no idea a dog's head was that hard. It was as if she had banged her head on a rock. We had insurance, but I don't know how much it will cover of an e.r. visit for stitches. It was a Sunday night, what was I going to do, let the thing heal funky? It was worth it to keep her from getting a really nasty scar on her face, even if the insurance doesn't pay for it. The Dr. took one look at the booboo and assured me that my daughter would thank me for bringing her in later.
Something we've never had was our health insurance require a $500/deductible, so I'm honestly not sure how that works, but I'm pretty sure that we are going to pay for that entire e.r. visit on our own, and it's going to count towards the deductible. I think. Not sure on that, I'm just waiting for the bills to start arriving. Who knows. If not then I'm sure that I'll be paying for the doctor visit for the chest cold, and the lab work they ordered this week.
Now it's Saturday, and I really need to find a doctor today, or something. I'm scheduled to work tommorrow and Monday, I already called in yesterday and today. Luckily my employer understands that we aren't in a profession that makes working sick an option. It's not like I can go in and just sniffle away at my desk full of papers, I don't work with papers. Papers don't care if I'm sick, people do however prefer not to be infected with the nasty upper respiratory infections of other people.
There the answer has come to me, self says, "just bite the bullet and pay whatever you have to pay for the doctor, who cares whether insurance covers it or not, cross that bridge when you get to it, for crying out loud, you REALLY ARE a worry wart."
All right, there it is. I know what I must do now.
I knew it was a nasty bugger when my daughter was sick with it. I was even worried that she might end up in the hospital with it because she has other health problems. The anti-biotics they prescribed her really helped knock the teeth out of the thing. After a day or so of them she was able to go back to school. She ended up missing 2 days of school, if last Monday hadn't of been a holiday, she would have missed 3 days total with this thing. She came down with it Sunday night, and didn't end up going to school until Thursday.
Today is my second day of work I will have missed because of this nasty bugger. There is just no way I could go and do my job like this, besides, other people don't want to be infected with my junk either. I stayed home. I need anti-biotics to whip this thing. So, either I wait until Monday and go to the doctor, or I find some sort of clinic thing like urgent care, which I'm not sure if our insurance will cover.
Vhat to do, vhat to do? My daughter got sick twice while my husband was transitioning into his new job, there was a 4 month wait for the insurance to kick in--that's 2 visits not covered by insurance, to include lab work. Last week I had to take her to the E.R. to get stitches because she busted open her eyebrow when she and the dog knocked their hard skulls together. I had no idea a dog's head was that hard. It was as if she had banged her head on a rock. We had insurance, but I don't know how much it will cover of an e.r. visit for stitches. It was a Sunday night, what was I going to do, let the thing heal funky? It was worth it to keep her from getting a really nasty scar on her face, even if the insurance doesn't pay for it. The Dr. took one look at the booboo and assured me that my daughter would thank me for bringing her in later.
Something we've never had was our health insurance require a $500/deductible, so I'm honestly not sure how that works, but I'm pretty sure that we are going to pay for that entire e.r. visit on our own, and it's going to count towards the deductible. I think. Not sure on that, I'm just waiting for the bills to start arriving. Who knows. If not then I'm sure that I'll be paying for the doctor visit for the chest cold, and the lab work they ordered this week.
Now it's Saturday, and I really need to find a doctor today, or something. I'm scheduled to work tommorrow and Monday, I already called in yesterday and today. Luckily my employer understands that we aren't in a profession that makes working sick an option. It's not like I can go in and just sniffle away at my desk full of papers, I don't work with papers. Papers don't care if I'm sick, people do however prefer not to be infected with the nasty upper respiratory infections of other people.
There the answer has come to me, self says, "just bite the bullet and pay whatever you have to pay for the doctor, who cares whether insurance covers it or not, cross that bridge when you get to it, for crying out loud, you REALLY ARE a worry wart."
All right, there it is. I know what I must do now.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Early Morning Activities
Well Well Well.
Lame title I know. I don't really care all that much though, you win some and lose some etc. I sit next to my pile of old tissues, I don't care either. Wow, I'm not really as cranky as I sound this morning. It's just I was up most of the night, tossing and turning, stuffing kleenex up my nose and I did not sleep well at all.
The first thing I did this morning after my kiddo left for school was get in the car and head to Walgreens, where I bought, Tylenol Multisymptom for daytime, and for night time, a big bag of Halls cough drops since my throat is starting to hurt, some Vicks vaporub, some vaseline for my very sore nostrals, another box of kleenex, and 2 bags of Reese's Inside Out Peanut Butter Cups, gawd I love them, they only sell them around Halloween time anyway. Now I'm ready for the day.
This isn't really meant to be about my cold, but about how my husband and I invited his mother and her significant other to live with us for a few months. They had moved to California last year and decided to come back out here, so her house will not be available for a few months, so we said they could hang with us for a few months. So they did. I've never actually spent this much time with my mother in law, but so far it's going all right.
She had my daughter and I laughing this morning though. I woke from my sleep to find my mother in law in the hall swatting at something on the wall with her house shoe. "what are you hitting at?" I asked.
"This jumping spider, but it keeps jumping away and I can't get it."
My daughter overhearing the situation crawls out of bed to investigate, "Grandma, that's a fly!"
"Oh my goodness, I thought it was a jumping spider, no wonder I couldn't get it!"
Daughter laughs hysterically, we all start in. Grandma turns off the hall light and goes back to bed. Grandma didn't have her glasses on.
I'm going back to bed now. I know, this post was not so great. It was all over the place, and really just sort of a bunch of nothing.
Lame title I know. I don't really care all that much though, you win some and lose some etc. I sit next to my pile of old tissues, I don't care either. Wow, I'm not really as cranky as I sound this morning. It's just I was up most of the night, tossing and turning, stuffing kleenex up my nose and I did not sleep well at all.
The first thing I did this morning after my kiddo left for school was get in the car and head to Walgreens, where I bought, Tylenol Multisymptom for daytime, and for night time, a big bag of Halls cough drops since my throat is starting to hurt, some Vicks vaporub, some vaseline for my very sore nostrals, another box of kleenex, and 2 bags of Reese's Inside Out Peanut Butter Cups, gawd I love them, they only sell them around Halloween time anyway. Now I'm ready for the day.
This isn't really meant to be about my cold, but about how my husband and I invited his mother and her significant other to live with us for a few months. They had moved to California last year and decided to come back out here, so her house will not be available for a few months, so we said they could hang with us for a few months. So they did. I've never actually spent this much time with my mother in law, but so far it's going all right.
She had my daughter and I laughing this morning though. I woke from my sleep to find my mother in law in the hall swatting at something on the wall with her house shoe. "what are you hitting at?" I asked.
"This jumping spider, but it keeps jumping away and I can't get it."
My daughter overhearing the situation crawls out of bed to investigate, "Grandma, that's a fly!"
"Oh my goodness, I thought it was a jumping spider, no wonder I couldn't get it!"
Daughter laughs hysterically, we all start in. Grandma turns off the hall light and goes back to bed. Grandma didn't have her glasses on.
I'm going back to bed now. I know, this post was not so great. It was all over the place, and really just sort of a bunch of nothing.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Would You Kindly Remove Your Sock From My Right Nostral Please
Or, I'm Sick.
Which makes me quite whiny. I'm terrible really. I can't think straight, don't want to do anything, and have been walking around in my pajamas, and cuddling a box of Kleenex like a 4 year old with a satin blanky since early evening when I realized that I was truly not feeling well at all. It might be a cliche to say my nose is running like a faucet, but it is, and I've been doubling up on tissue with each painful blow, it's necessary, I need the extra reinforcement there. At one point I sat pathetically at the kitchen table with a kleenex stuffed up my nose, just hanging there, and I did not care if anyone saw it either. The thing I hate about it the most is it's completely stuffed up, but running at the same time, so I can't even sniffle at all, it's just catch the stuff when it runs out, there's no sucking it back in. Oh come on, you know you do it too.
I tried to study for my test coming up on Tuesday, but I couldn't. Somehow my brain is in a fog as well. At this point the only thing even remotely appealing to me is reading my favorite blogs. It's effortless, entertaining and takes my mind off the fact that the top half of my head is pounding.
All in all it's been a sick week around here, I'm not surprised that I've finally been taken down to level after the nasty bug my daughter has been fighting all week. Fever, sinuses, cough, in her case bronchitis which called for a healthy dose of anti-biotics. I demanded that she return to school today since her fever finally broke last night. As much as I love her, I do actually kind of look forward to the time when she is at school.
Here's the list of people I'm reading, while I shamelessly stuff tissues up my nose and discard them in a pile ON the desk:
Mr. Kim du Toit
The dear Francis Porretto
One of my very favorites The Passing Parade
One who gives a great tongue lashing: The Baby Troll Blogger
Always something interesting to be found at Tinkerty Tonk, plus I like the ring of it
The girl is smart, Serenity's Journal
She says she's done, but I hope she's not, Frankensoul
The Crazy One, who makes me laugh, she's got a cutting wit, that Samantha Burns
Which makes me quite whiny. I'm terrible really. I can't think straight, don't want to do anything, and have been walking around in my pajamas, and cuddling a box of Kleenex like a 4 year old with a satin blanky since early evening when I realized that I was truly not feeling well at all. It might be a cliche to say my nose is running like a faucet, but it is, and I've been doubling up on tissue with each painful blow, it's necessary, I need the extra reinforcement there. At one point I sat pathetically at the kitchen table with a kleenex stuffed up my nose, just hanging there, and I did not care if anyone saw it either. The thing I hate about it the most is it's completely stuffed up, but running at the same time, so I can't even sniffle at all, it's just catch the stuff when it runs out, there's no sucking it back in. Oh come on, you know you do it too.
I tried to study for my test coming up on Tuesday, but I couldn't. Somehow my brain is in a fog as well. At this point the only thing even remotely appealing to me is reading my favorite blogs. It's effortless, entertaining and takes my mind off the fact that the top half of my head is pounding.
All in all it's been a sick week around here, I'm not surprised that I've finally been taken down to level after the nasty bug my daughter has been fighting all week. Fever, sinuses, cough, in her case bronchitis which called for a healthy dose of anti-biotics. I demanded that she return to school today since her fever finally broke last night. As much as I love her, I do actually kind of look forward to the time when she is at school.
Here's the list of people I'm reading, while I shamelessly stuff tissues up my nose and discard them in a pile ON the desk:
Mr. Kim du Toit
The dear Francis Porretto
One of my very favorites The Passing Parade
One who gives a great tongue lashing: The Baby Troll Blogger
Always something interesting to be found at Tinkerty Tonk, plus I like the ring of it
The girl is smart, Serenity's Journal
She says she's done, but I hope she's not, Frankensoul
The Crazy One, who makes me laugh, she's got a cutting wit, that Samantha Burns
Even If It Kills Me
I'm Going to Post Something.
It's pitiful, I haven't had the time nor inkling to get on here and post much of anything, and that is probably why this is one of the most decidedly boring and unpopular sites out there. Yes, I do sometimes go through the blogrolls of complete strangers clicking on random but interesting sounding links to other sites, and am often surprised what sort of complete crap is linked to out there. Whatever. It's called denial, and yes, I must be unable to admit to myself that I really truly suck at this. Again, whatever.
Given the loss of one of the big daddy's of the blogosphere with his sudden passing, I got to thinking, if I were to die tomorrow, whatever I've put on this site may or may not be a testament to others the kind of person I am. At least in some small part. The question I most ask myself is, what would my kid think of me by reading this site? My daughter is only 11 years old, there is a lot of growing that happens between 11 and adulthood. My best friend's mother died when she was 9, she has faint memories of what her mother was really like.
What sort of things would my daughter learn about me by reading this site? The reason I don't write all that often about her is because I don't feel it is my place to. Suffice it to say, she's a very unique child in many ways, and of course I adore her completely and totally with all of my heart. She might gather nothing from reading this site, I don't know, but what she may or may not someday think about all this is definitely a guide for me to follow.
Just a thought.
It's pitiful, I haven't had the time nor inkling to get on here and post much of anything, and that is probably why this is one of the most decidedly boring and unpopular sites out there. Yes, I do sometimes go through the blogrolls of complete strangers clicking on random but interesting sounding links to other sites, and am often surprised what sort of complete crap is linked to out there. Whatever. It's called denial, and yes, I must be unable to admit to myself that I really truly suck at this. Again, whatever.
Given the loss of one of the big daddy's of the blogosphere with his sudden passing, I got to thinking, if I were to die tomorrow, whatever I've put on this site may or may not be a testament to others the kind of person I am. At least in some small part. The question I most ask myself is, what would my kid think of me by reading this site? My daughter is only 11 years old, there is a lot of growing that happens between 11 and adulthood. My best friend's mother died when she was 9, she has faint memories of what her mother was really like.
What sort of things would my daughter learn about me by reading this site? The reason I don't write all that often about her is because I don't feel it is my place to. Suffice it to say, she's a very unique child in many ways, and of course I adore her completely and totally with all of my heart. She might gather nothing from reading this site, I don't know, but what she may or may not someday think about all this is definitely a guide for me to follow.
Just a thought.
Monday, September 04, 2006
This Just In
People Are Spazzing Out All Over.
Oh gosh. I hear them on the O'Reilly factor spazzing out about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I mean come on. I hate sex offenders just as much as the next person okay? But seriously, I'm not worried about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I don't care. People need jobs, even sex offenders. Seriously, they can't even get my frickin order right, I don't plan on leaving my child there to be supervised by McDonalds workers that would be neglect on my part. What's the big frappin deal here? What's next? Is McDonalds going to start hiring drunk drivers? We're doomed.
Oh gosh. I hear them on the O'Reilly factor spazzing out about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I mean come on. I hate sex offenders just as much as the next person okay? But seriously, I'm not worried about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I don't care. People need jobs, even sex offenders. Seriously, they can't even get my frickin order right, I don't plan on leaving my child there to be supervised by McDonalds workers that would be neglect on my part. What's the big frappin deal here? What's next? Is McDonalds going to start hiring drunk drivers? We're doomed.
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