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The Icon says it all... [26 Dec 2009|03:54pm] Just got a call from Mom as she was waiting to board her plane in Miami. She was upset that she'd forgotten to pack one of her super-expensive hair products. "Well, I guess I'll just have to have flat hair for the week," she grumped at me. "You're doing mission work in a giant garbage dump in Nicuaragua. No one will care about your hair." Please refer to above Icon. 17 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[24 Dec 2009|05:25pm] [ mood | sick ] Does it strike anyone else as odd that Norad has Santa showing as in Saudi Arabia? Maybe I'm off here, but a country as strictly and proudly Muslim as Saudi Arabia makes me think that the only way Santa would be welcome in their airspace would be if they were going to use him as target practice. Ah, well. Maybe he shows up for the non-Muslim diplomatic and military population. Well, it's Christmas Eve. Most of Liv's gifts are wrapped, all but one of Thom's are. I'm making ravioli and meatballs for dinner--all frozen, all canned and I. Don't. Care. I feel like shit again. At this point, I'm ready to just to give up and accept that I'll never be well again. I have one or two great days, and then I come down with some kind of creeping crud that climbs into sinus cavities and lungs and won't move out. Coughing is now an extreme sport, usually culminating in either a pulled muscle or vomiting--both if I'm extra lucky. If I thought Neti-potting boiling acid into my sinuses would help, I'd do it in a heartbeat. So yeah, this puts me in a pissy mood. Tomorrow's family gathering is going to be GREAT. (or perhaps Grate depending on how raw my nerves are) Of course, Mom leaves the 26th for a week in Nicaragua. She's going with a church group to help on a medical mission. Bless Mom, I know her heart is in the right place but the woman can't live without AC, hates bugs, isn't much more fond of homeless or poor people, can't walk up hills or stairs or on flat surfaces without injuring herself, speaks just enough Spanish to get herself in mucho trouble, and the extent of her medical training has been working in a weight loss clinic and answering phones for an insurance company. She's going to work in some garbage dump slum outside of the capital, and then maybe go into the mountains. I sense either encroaching disaster or enough comedy material to last for years. Or both. I hope for her sake that this is the trip of a lifetime and that she gets what she needs for herself out of it. My brother in law is also going. I hope for his sake that she doesn't injure herself. Anyways, since I'm in a mood anyway and listening to the Christmas Classic station, let me just break down something. Just because a song has the word "winter" or "snow" does not make it a Christmas song, much less a motherfucking Classic. Example: "The Gift". I fucking hate this song. Let me rephrase that. I could endure this song if it wasn't on constant rotation as a "Christmas Classic". The only way I'd give this whiny piece of self-indulgent Fogelberg wanna-be saccharine crap the benefit of the doubt of being a "Christmas Classic" is if they exhumed Bing Crosby long enough to sing it. But I think that zombiefied Bing would refuse to sing that piece of syrupy trash. Even the dead have some shred of dignity. And then we have "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Has anyone ever listened to the lyrics? This song is an ode to date rape! Any song that asks, "Say, what's in this drink?" or has the exchange of: "I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride? I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out." should creep out just about anyone... At this point, I have to put in the caveat that any song that I despise and loathe will become an instant favorite if performed by a member of the Rat Pack. Same for Bing Crosby, Burl Ives, Nat Cole or Mel Torme. Exhibit 1 of this caveat: Carmen McRae and Sammy Davis, Jr singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside". Sammy takes all the skeeve out and makes me love this version. But I digress. I also hate anything by Josh Groban. Seriously. ANYTHING. A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. Josh, please, please, please stop yodeling at me to "Believe". The cameo on "Glee", while completely awesome, can only cut you so much slack. And of course, everyone knows my white hot loathing for that "Christmas Shoes" piece of shit. I literally start thrashing and gritting my teeth when I hear it. My co-workers now know when this song comes on by the sounds of flailing and incensed howls of rage. Jen will lean back and say, "Irene, just skip the damn song!" There is so much wrong with that song that I just can't cover it all, but suffice it to say that I sincerely doubt that God would kill some kid's mom just to teach a self-absorbed asshole the 'real' meaning of Christmas. Just shut up, asshole. Let's just say that not even Bing, Burl, and Nat plus the entire Rat Pack (male and female members) singing this abortion while Orlando Bloom, Hugh Jackman and Dwayne Johnson do nude interpretive dance to the melody could make me want to do nothing more but take a cheese grater to my eardrums. Anyways, I've got to stagger up and make dinner and feed the cats and socialize with the family. I hope that the holiday--if you celebrate--brings everthing you want from it. I know it will for me--another eleven months before I have to hear that goddamned song again. 26 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

UGH. [21 Dec 2009|01:34pm] [ mood | amused ] I know that some people totally love, love, love Josh Groban but if I hear him yodel ONE MORE TIME about how I should just “Believe”, I am going to hunt him down and beat him with my shoe. After I get done pulling it out of that "Christmas Shoes" asshat douchebag fuckhead's rectum, of course. Blessed Yule/Solstice to all. 31 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[14 Dec 2009|11:36pm] [ mood | amused ] Well, I got ‘nudged’ so here I am. I didn’t realize how long it had been since I’ve updated. First of all, thank you very much for the LJ gift, megselv! Health is improving in a slow but steady way. Thom gave me another cold last week and I’m afraid it will go to my chest, but I’m fighting the good fight! (I typed that at work earlier today, before I got home and the fog rolled in and now I'm hacking and coughing and very, very annoyed about it all.) There's been so much going on and I keep thinking to myself, "Oh, I should LJ that!" and then I just kind of get busy and forget it... such is life this time of year. Work is work. I go into the office once a week and then work from home the rest of the week. Today was the office 'party' per se. Basically too much food and a cube decorating contest. I'd gone in last Monday and seen that one coworker--B--had embraced the concept (and probably the prize of a day off with pay) and decided to go for broke. He had taken lights and hung them from the ceiling outlining the cube perimeter. He'd put a net of lights on one wall, and then strung more lights--everything flashing like the dance floor in Studio 54 in 1979--down the sides of the cube and over to mine ("You've been sick, so I thought I would help you out." Yeah, right.) Mind you, I get in at 6:05 AM or so and he gets in at 6:45 AM, so I didn't notice the fiber optic musical tree at first. But the best part was when he got in, I heard the sound of him clicking a switch and then a low hairdryer-like sound. Then a six foot inflatable Santa towered over his desk and waved at the entire office. Luckily we seem to have lots and lots of room on the circuit breakers, and as a plus, it doesn't seem like any epileptics work there either. Well, I got in today and B had had a whole week to work on it. He'd hung snowflakes and made a "Letters to Santa ONLY" sign on his inbox. He'd gotten candy canes and put "Vote for B" stickers on them. (He gave me a candy cane and I informed him that since I was a Republican, my vote was much more expensive than a stupid candy cane. He then shrugged, sighed and began to undo his belt. My eyes, my eyes) Strangely enough, B was not the most overdone cube. One woman had taken brown paper and put a gable roof on her cube, and then made gingerbread men and made furniture from office supplies and copy paper and dressed as Santa. Another did a purple theme. I did not participate, of course. How could I against all that? Of course, I did tell them that they had Christmas all covered and that I was going to go for something else--I told them I'd do Saturnalia. I then said I would do everything up in my cube in white sheets and columns and then have orgies. (I pointed out I was already halfway there with three Orlando Bloom calendars and two computer screens full of OB goodness) Of course, no one I work with knew what Saturnalia was and when I explained it and then thought out loud about decorating for Mithras' birthday (bulls, swords, spears, suns) instead, they just looked at me strangely. Especially the lady they just put on my team who has a Master's degree from Oral Roberts University. Yes. On MY team. Oh yes. She overheard me complaining to someone else today about the difficulties of following a seasonal based Pagan religious calendar and being ready to celebrate the return of the sun when the FUCKING SUN HAS NOT GONE ANYWHERE. It was fucking 85 today. You know what? The sun can go take a break for few days so I can try and remember what I'm supposed to be celebrating. Dark, cold days? Yeah, if I close my blinds and crank the AC. Floridian pagans have it hard. Wah wah wah. Anyway, this chick, she's rather odd. I mean she's nice but she has that kind of smile that makes you wonder what she's thinking. I mean, I suspect she'll have that nice smile when she tosses a brick through my front window--all for my own good, of course. I'll have to be saved whether I need it or not--with scripture painted on it. Anyways, back to the contest. B lost. I even stuffed the ballot box for him. I wrote up votes from George Washington, Abe Lincoln, Barak Obama ("B's decor best exemplifies Hope and Change!"), Liz Onya, Jim Nasium, and so forth and so on. I might have gotten him disqualified, but that's okay. He's annoying. ******* Let me ask you this: When did penguins become Christmas animals? Liv and I were discussing this because of all the penguin lawn ornaments and decorations and party favors and snowglobes and lights and everything. Me: "I just don't get it. I mean, they're not arctic animals." Liv: "Don't ruin this for me. We all know that the penguins are Santa's friends!" Me: "How? They live at the south pole." Liv: "They just are." Me: "I mean, I could get behind puffins. Puffins live in the arctic and they're cute..." Liv: ::makes the shushing noise she often makes to cut me off:: "Stop it. Don't ruin it." Me: "Don't shush me. How can the penguins be friends with Santa when they live on the opposite side of the globe from him?" Liv: "BECAUSE SANTA TAKES AN ELEVATOR THROUGH THE CENTER OF THE EARTH TO GO VISIT THE SOUTH POLE AFTER HE'S DONE DELIVERING PRESENTS!!! NOW WILL YOU CUT IT OUT????" Me: ::pause:: "You just made that up. Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU???" Liv: ::rolls eyes, sighs and flounces:: I have no clue where she gets it from. Really. 17 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

stolen because it's fun [14 Dec 2009|11:01pm] [ mood | sick ] Wanna tell me something nice? Wanna do it anonymously? Go here: Reply to my comment. Here's how it works: You comment with your username, and people will comment ANONYMOUSLY with things they love and cherish about you. I say anonymously because it makes the atmosphere lighter and more mysterious, kind of like a Secret Santa only with love and holiday cheer! People will wonder who these caring people are and appreciate the fact that they exist, not only the fact that they may be best friends with them. Then find people you care about and have something nice to say to - even if you don't know them! - and leave them something that will make their heart feel a little warmer at night. This way, the love will go around and around and the magical spirit of the season can be cherished and appreciated by all. 2 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[27 Nov 2009|12:52am] Liv and Thom are in the other room watching something called Thankskilling. Figures that Thom would be able to find a slasher movie about Thanksgiving... He and Liv are horror movie buddies and they're laughing hysterically at this one. Of course, I do have to admit having a killer turkey puppet killing everyone and screaming, "GOBBLE GOBBLE MOTHERFUCKERS" is pretty funny. There is so much to be thankful for that I can't enumerate it all, but know that I am counting my blessings accordingly. On the health front, I've been slooooowly improving. I know that it is a long road back from where I was, but things are better. My last Xrays showed the congestion in my lungs is resolving and the partial lung collapse has cleared itself up too. Yes, partial lung collapse. I didn't know about that either until he let that one slip. I did a little research and found out that it is not uncommon for a lobe or area of the lung to get blocked by the secretions from Pneumonia and it will deflate. It is something that should be watched but not life threatening unless a large area of lung goes down. Mind you, I was a little freaked by this diagnosis. I have watched enough episodes of ER to know what happens when someone presents with a collapsed lung. They get slammed up on the exam table, an extremely hot doctor like George Clooney or John Stamos shoves something like one of those stiff, pointy Capri-Sun straws through your chest and they reinflate you. Obviously my insurance does not carry the "George Clooney" rider. I must look into that next open enrollment. Mind you, I was just thinking that even if I went to the hospital, Morton Plant has an amazing array of hot doctors. And then I recall that every time I've been there I've been concussed, so who knows what they really look like. And as a side thought, one of the Alphas leaned over to me Tuesday and said, "Your mother has never had a collapsed lung. She must be seething!" Hehehehee. Yeah, and I'd be tempted to say, "Beat that, Mom" except she'd probably make an effort and that can only end in tears. *********** In other news, I got the most terrifying email one can ever imagine the other day. It said, "**name of ten year old nephew** is now following you on Twitter". Luckily, I don't do anything on Twitter. I don't even know why I have the damned thing because I pretty much loathe Twitter. I just find it impossible to narrow down my pervy, obscene thoughts about dipping Orlando Bloom in dark chocolate and licking it off to 140 characters. Thank God. His parents (My sister and her spouse) would never speak to me again if they knew that their ten year old son was being corrupted by me. They won't even let him watch most network TV or anything that hasn't been recommended by their church. So during Thanksgiving dinner tonight, I looked at him and said, "I don't update on Twitter, you know." He looked at me, glanced at his parents and then turned back to his food with rapt attention. Oops. Turns out they didn't know he had a Twitter account. Turns out I just ratted him out. Turns out I forwarded them the email so they could see he's had a Twitter account for almost two months and sits there posting about the girl who plays Bella in the Twilight movies (which is a reassuring thing since he spent the entire night chatting me and Liv up about cooking. Turns out he loves Food Network and has started cooking and wants to swap recipes with me. He also wanted to tell Liv how much better he bakes than she does, since he now knows how to make Black Forest cake--it's alright. Liv cooked almost everything for me tonight, including from scratch red velvet cake with homemade buttercream icing. Mmmmm.) (And I have to admit that the first thing that ran through my head was that if he turned out to be gay, his parents would freak out, this had better be a phase) I suspect there will be tears tonight in their household. ***** Kittygeddon continues. Evan is growing, Luna still wants to kill him. We keep them completely seperate and play musical kitties by giving them rotating access to the main rooms of the house. Don't think that Evan is the helpless victim in all of this. He spends hours sitting in front of the French doors teasing Luna. I'll be working in bed and hear loud THUMPS and SQUEAKY SQUEAKY SQUEAKY noises, come out and find that he's sitting right in front of Luna and he's either ducking down under the door frame and popping up at her, or he's swatting the glass right at her nose. This, of course, drives her apeshit. The thumping and squeaking is her throwing herself against the French doors and trying to dig through the glass with her Soft Paws. She also tries to reach the door knob, dig through the floor, and break the glass with her face. She does all of this with a bottle brush tail and excessive panting. Evan reclines and grooms right in front of her while she does this. We've taken to calling him 'The White Terror'. Luna still calls him 'Dead Meat'. We've tried the Feliway, the calming stuff in her water, feeding them in sight of each other, anything and everything. The only thing that will work is time... as in time enough for him to get big enough to fight back. Which the way he's growing, isn't long. I even got this thing called a "calming collar" which had some kind of super phermones in it. I put it on Luna, who has never worn a collar in her life, and she went into the "OMG YOU'RE CHOKING ME!!!" complete with histronics and flailing while I made sure I could put three fingers in between her neck and the collar. She then proceeded to sulk for several hours. Said sulk occured under the covers on Thom's side of the bed (since she prefers Thom to all else of course). Said sulk under covers resulted in collar getting nice and warm and outgassing whatever was in it, which then resulted in my finding her in our bed with pupils the size of dinner plates. She was also amazingly affectionate, drooling and hungry. If only that had lasted. Ah, well. Life goes on. And I hope all who celebrated Thanksgiving had a wonderful one. 16 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

Just sayin'.... [18 Nov 2009|09:13pm] [ mood | annoyed ] I'm freaking sick of this being sick shit. I've been told it takes forever to recover from Pneumonia, that it can take months. I get that. But now I'm actually starting to feel worse again--the cough is worse, the fatigue is worse, I think I pulled a muscle in my chest coughing, I'm using the inhaler again... Grrrr. I'm going back to the Dr. tomorrow and I'm not really eager about what he might say. 12 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

AM BLIND AND TOUCH TYPING NOW, THNKS. [17 Nov 2009|02:41pm] stoney321 has found something that makes "His wife? A horse." seem so pedestrian and vanilla. Click at your own risk--No pix, but NSFL. columella, don't click. And when you do, as you will because your mouse is already hovering over it, don't yell at me! 33 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

Little known insurance fact # 321 [16 Nov 2009|05:22pm] [ mood | amused ] Random fact of insurance: If I call a home, get a recording and I hear "Have a Blessed Day", I'm automatically suspicious. It is well known in the industry that people who have this greeting on their recorders are more likely to have fraudulent claims. I don't know why, it just is. Hindus don't do it. Jews don't do it. You never hear "Buddha loves you" or "Mithras shine down on you" or "Allah give you blessings". Suspicious things in claims are called "Red Flags", and you usually look at all the "Red Flags" to see if they add up into something significant. "Have a Blessed Day" on the answering machine is the equivalent of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in red flags. So the gentleman I called this morning and got not only the "Have a Blessed Day", but a complete reading of John 3:16-21 (maybe 25 or 26, who knows), AND the self identification as "You have reached Bishop X" in a two minute message to include organ music and choirs of orgasmic angels... I already know where this is going. And what's even funnier is I'd already pegged the fraud on a forged receipt last week. 32 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

For tigmode... [16 Nov 2009|05:01pm] Rick Springfield starkers doing interesting things with two other people from Californication Jeez. Jesse's Girl was losing out! 13 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

The hits just keep on coming... [11 Nov 2009|10:59am] [ mood | sad ] Thom's dad died last night. It truly was a mercy--the ALS had been whittling away at him bit by bit for the last two years. I'd never be able to deal with it the way he did. It's death by papercuts. I didn't know him very well having only met him three times. He refused to come out of upstate NY, and we didn't have much time or money to travel. We did talk on the phone quite often and it saddens me to know I'll never hear his voice on the line asking "Is this Sir Fartsalot's castle?" again. 2009 can be over any time now... 47 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

KITTY! [09 Nov 2009|01:34pm] [ mood | tired ] Every office should come like this--bed AND warm, snuggly (BIG) kitty. 6 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[08 Nov 2009|09:45pm] The Cantore has deployed!!!! Pensacola Beach, kiss your ass good-bye! 6 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[08 Nov 2009|02:22pm] I have to admit this is one of the most interesting CONES O'DOOM I've ever been in. Reading up on this one makes me think I have to watch extra-careful because it's all going to depend on WHERE it makes the turn east. And it looks to be ramping up to a Cat 3 because it is threading the needle between the Yucatan and Cuba--hence not losing anything over land. The good thing is that this is a small, compact storm. 18 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[05 Nov 2009|06:52pm] Still in bed. Still coughing. I'm feeling slightly better, despite the ongoing low grade fevers, so I'll take that as a plus. I've been in bed pretty much all day with exceptions to get Liv from the bus stop and to order pizza online for dinner. I've been reading a message board about Scientology all day too. Mind you, I live in Clearwater--spiritual home of the COS. I could walk to the Fort Harrison hotel. I see Flag busses pass my street every day. Most of my neighbors are COS--Nice people, but distant. I don't hang with them, they don't hang with the rest of us--It's very West Side Story but without the music, dancing, gang violence or angst. So nothing like West Side Story, really. Living here, I kind of have a different viewpoint on the COS, I guess. I mean, whenever people come visit, I take them downtown to the Starbucks to go Scientologist spotting. I am assumed to be COS because of my zip code, so I get a lot of their mailings about their "approved" businesses, activities, schools, summer camps, yadda yadda. I will admit to being a bit afraid of the COS as well. I mean, they are NASTY to people they don't like and they don't like a few of my friends. But still, some of the stuff that I'm reading about how they treat their 'parishoners' is blood-curdling. Poor people. It certainly makes my already-done avoidance of those "approved" businesses feel even more like the right thing. So anyway, here I sit, bored out of my skull and typing whatever comes to mind. I haven't done that in a long time because... well... I've been busy and drained and sick and worried about my internet footprint and my professional life and freaky people knowing who I am and wanting to hurt my family and and and... Blah. I've also consumed a Lortab(for the cough), an Augmentin, a Juicy Juice (fruit punch--mmmm) and five Golden Double Stuffed Oreos--which are the food of the Gods and will never, EVER be allowed in my house again. (When I had no appetite and eating three of them with the Augmentin to be sure I didn't puke and then wouldn't eat anything else all day, that was fine. Now that my appetite is back, OH HELL NO I CAN'T HAVE THIS IN THE HOUSE.) So anyway, what to talk about? It's turning a little chilly tonight--may drop to 58F or so. I'm going to have to remember to pull out an extra blanket before the Lortab really kicks in. I won't really care that I'm cold but when it wears off and I wake up to pee, that will be tragic. Liv is struggling in high school. Part of it is the change--it is a big change from middle school, after all. She's not used to having to study hard in all her classes. Hell, she's not used to studying and doesn't grasp the concept of "working ahead" very well. And when I get the progress reports in that say she's not doing her homework after I ask her EACH AND EVERY DAY, "so, any homework?", well, yeah. THAT conversation went well, as you can assume. And the issue is this. She's in high school. I can only do so much and I should only HAVE to do so much. She's getting close to adulthood and she's going to have to learn how to handle consequences on her own. And as much as that sucks, it is a truth in life that if you don't work for what you want, you won't get it (well, usually. Some people always seem to have everything handed to them, but that's never been us. And there's always the caveat that no matter how hard you work, sometimes you don't get what you want either, but at least you tried.) (can't you tell I've taken a narcotic? Why are you reading this?) I'm still incredibly blessed. Liv is an awesome kid and since we've had the 'conversation', she's been writing down all her homework assignments and then showing them to us to show us she's completed them. (we don't... CAN'T... check for accuracy--her classes are too advanced for us) She admitted today she likes having to do that because it MAKES her have to do them. So hopefully this will be the end of it. I hope. She's too smart to be screwing up her future with stupid stuff. She is making top grades in Honors World History (columella should be proud). She was a little bummed when she had to do an oral report on Alexander the Great. "That's awesome! I love his story," I said. She rolled her eyes and whined, "he's BORING. BORING." I was driving so I was only able to side glance at her. "You know he was gay, right?" She sat straight up. "What? Really?" "Or at least Bi. His lover was ... I can't remember his name. Some servant, I think. You'll have to research that part." "THAT IS SO AWESOME." She received a 100% on that report too. Went over her alotted time and everything since she'd researched him to the hilt based on that one sentence. She is so my kid. What else??? Evan the kitten is doing well. Luna is sleeping on my feet as I type this. We've had to completely seperate them because Luna is not accepting him, and he's not too happy with her either. He and Leyla get along okay and I've seen her actually tolerating a little bit (not much) of play out of him. The worst part is that Evan teases Luna through the glass door. He likes to sit right on top of carrier I keep out there (he likes to run in and out of it and sleep in it) and stare in at Luna. This, of course, drives Luna batshit and she charges the door, jumps on it, tries to push it open, tries to dig under it, yadda yadda. Evan sits there, stares at her, meows at her and then makes those kitten feints at the door with his paw. Luna spends most of her time glaring at him, tail done up like a bottle brush. We have very strict times when they are allowed into the main part of the house. Only Leyla gets free access to everywhere, but she'd rather sleep. Liv thinks that Luna has gained weight since Evan arrives, and swears that it is all muscle. She thinks that either she's got a kitty weight lifting gym hidden somewhere or she's on steroids. She then states the steroids would explain the aggressive behavior--'roid rage. We were discussing possible sources--Leyla has never liked Luna and could be trying to set her up. But that would be too much work for Leyla and would cut into her 26 hour a day sleep schedule. We finally decided the squirrels were the source and were imitating squirrels in trench coats lifting up their arms, pointing at their wares and squeaking. Of course, Thom thinks it is strange that we still think this visual is hilariously funny. Figures. Thom's father continues to worsen. It is my understanding that he was near unresponsive last time his brother went up to see him. That makes me very sad And under the heading of "It keeps piling on", my sister/aunt (long story) Cissie is in ICU in Jacksonville. Long story short, the woman pretty much raised me and was my favorite sister. She protected me from my alcoholic (grand)mother, and then ran away and got into a lot of bad things over the years. Ruined her liver with alcohol and drugs, and looks like she may have gone too far with the latest binge. I'm so sad for several reasons. Obviously, I can't take off and go see her, and I think I'd rather not. I love this woman so much that I think I'd rather remember her before she got messed up--and it makes me so sad to think how far back I have to think to find a time when she wasn't messed up. Fucking drugs. It makes me so damn angry sometimes to think about lives wasted. But anyway... I really don't have much else to say. Maybe I'll go dig up Eternity of Blood or something while I'm wasted. 11 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[04 Nov 2009|04:32pm] Well, isn't this an interesting development so late in the season? And honestly, I wouldn't have even caught it if I wasn't friggin' BORED OUT OF MY SKULL AND IN BED FOR THE PAST WEEK. So, let's see what happens here. I don't know if the Gulf is warm enough to support/accellerate a tropical system right now. Off to do my research. FROM MY BED. ::sighs:: ::COUGH HACK GAG:: 3 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

Are you guys happy NOW? [01 Nov 2009|10:05pm] Today I have done absolutely nothing. NOTHING. Well, I boiled water for ramen noodles. But otherwise nothing! (even had a conversation with my neighbor through the bedroom window whilst kneeling on the bed. Little did she know I was NAKED!! Heee! How sad am I that I'm still giggling about that?) Still have low grade fever tho. And cough is worse. Ugh. 9 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[01 Nov 2009|01:09pm] In other news, the kid count was through the roof last night. We went through: (don't make fun of us, we don't like to give out candy-candy) 2-boxes of microwave popcorn packs with 40 each 1 box of full sized rice crispy treats 25 1 box of fruit juice gummies 50 kids got one item. We ran out of stuff before we ran out of trick or treaters (luckily the other households still had candy because they bought several 150 packs of candy. so we had over 155 kids last night. Blows the mind. 17 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

[01 Nov 2009|12:27pm] I have just come to the stunning realization that I am a horrible patient. I know the Alphas are all rolling their eyes and snickering into their shirt sleeves en masse at that declaration, but I really didn't think I was that bad until yesterday. Yesterday I had to run to the pet store to get some stuff to see if I could do anything about the continuing kittygeddon I've had for the past weeks. Thom said, "well, since you're out can you run by and get some Harvest Moon beer and ice for tonight." And I needed to get caramel for the apple dip I was making for our neighborhood Halloween party (five houses, my front yard, lots of food and drink and fun--3rd year running). I was already bummed that I was too sick to go to the 3 day cheering station and pass out stuff, so I made finding Thom's favored limited edition beer a quest. Mind you, a quest that goes to only four stores is really a lame quest but that was all the energy I had for questing. Questing with Pneumonia is hard work. Then I came home, and Thom yelled at me for questing and sent me to bed. Two hours later, I was up taking Liv to her sleepover and then helping Thom (while he yelled at me) set up for the party. Then I made food. (You may think this is too much but the Alphas will realize when I tell you all I did was open containers of pre-made food and put them on platters that I was MAJORLY cutting back on my hostess duties. The only things I made from scratch were the caramel apple dip and the chili cheese dip, both of which involve mixing only two ingredients. I'm still ashamed of that and people who have been around me when I'm hostessing will know what I mean.) Then I sat and rested with the neighbors but it was SO HOT and SO HUMID that I was miserable. I walked down with John (he of the four English Sheepdogs and the ambiguous sexuality) a block to see the neighbor's pumpkin patch (61 pumpkins this year, each carved in some different design, face, haunted house, ninja, whathaveyou. Always fun to see. Came back, sat down for ten minutes, got up and began clearing food and washing dishes. After everyone left, I came to the harsh realization that not only had I overdid, I'd way overdid and couldn't stop coughing. Ugh. So yes, today I'm laying in bed with a cat napping on my leg. Furthermore, Thom and Liv are doing the grocery shopping and laundry, and Thom is in charge of making dinner for the mother in law. I'm trying so very hard to be good now, but there's just SO much I need to do. The house is a sty, the kitchen is, the carpets need cleaning, the clutter is overwhelming, I can see the yardwork I need to do through the front window... ::sighs:: And this is what happens every day. I think I'm lazy for not doing anything, and it rubs against the grain to be in bed or sit and watch TV. I'm going to have to get over it. Am still running low grade fevers. I will moniter and call the dr in the AM. I was feeling great for the first half hour of the day yesterday but then lost it entirely, to the point where I was too weak to even make my own bed after I'd washed the sheets. This sucks. 19 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

Suckage continues... [30 Oct 2009|03:15pm] [ mood | sick ] It appears that I'm not only not responding to the Cipro, I'm actually getting sicker. Normally, he'd give me a Zpack to fight this off but the problem is that I'm allergic to something in it. So now I have Augmentin, and if I'm not on the mend by Monday, it's the the hospital I go for IV antibiotics. This still sucks. 35 Thigh strokings| Stoke a thigh

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