'Tis the (shopping) season

I went out this evening and did my first Christmas shopping. I wouldn't have bothered, but I had a 40% off coupon for Barnes & Noble and it was only good for this weekend. Hey, the Christmas budget is tight this year. Plus I have to ship all my gifts instead of hauling them with me on the plane. I'll take whatever discounts I can get.

Most of the last three days have been consumed with trying to get my wireless router working properly. I wanted to watch some things on my computer through Netflix, but the old desk top just isn't up to the task. Too old, too slow. Not enough memory. The laptop can handle it, but it didn't want to work plugged directly into the modem. It was time to haul out the router I bought over a year ago with the laptop and get it set up. It gave me a few fits, but it finally seems to be working. First it kept quitting on me. Then there was a problem with the software. Eventually I discovered that the update on the software was bad. And I only had to system restore and re-download the software twice to figure it out. I'm still not sure why it craps out on me every couple of hours, but I now know to just unplug the modem and router, give them a minute, and plug them back in again. Whatever's happening, that seems to reboot everything. Not a great solution, but it's a two minute fix instead of a two hour ordeal. See, I can learn. Eventually.

Now that I've got the wireless working, sort of, I'm exploring the instant play options on Netflix. So far I've watched about half of Dr Who season one and one episode of Ballykissangel. My dad loves British comedies, and I thought Ballykissangel might be a good Christmas present. I'm not sure about that, although I enjoyed it and plan to watch more. Dad's got a bit of a Thing about Catholics, and I'm not sure if that would prevent him from enjoying the show or not. We come from a line of Protestant ministers (although I frequently wonder if there's not a Goddess worshiping milk man somewhere in my background), and it seems to me that no matter what the religion, you run into the same kinds of people and politics at any church. There is, unfortunately, no logic or sense when Dad decides to develop a Thing, though, so whether he'd see the universality of it is hard to say. Amazon has season one available for $25, which is just a skosh over the $20 budget I set, so more thought is needed.

He's been very unhelpful with the Christmas list this year. When I asked him yesterday he said, "I don't know, maybe a DVD." But when I asked which DVD he'd like, he didn't know. I warned him if he couldn't give me a title or two he was going to get a pack of blank DVDs. And a lump of coal for his stocking. He seemed perfectly OK with the lump of coal idea. At the cost of heating fuel this year it would be a valuable gift.

His favorites are As Time Goes By, Keeping Up Appearances, The Vicar of Dibley, and Are You Being Served. If anyone has suggestions about other shows he might enjoy, I'd be happy to hear them. I don't get BBC America on my basic cable package and the last time I checked the local PBS station wasn't playing much in the way of Britcom.

True Confessions

I've never admitted this before because, well, it's a little embarrassing. But I'm getting very fannish in my old age. My current obsession? Torchwood.

I heard about this show in passing from some British folks on a message forum that I frequent. It sounded interesting, but when I found out it was a spin off of Dr. Who, my interest cooled. (I sampled Dr. Who a few years ago and didn't like it at all. Too cheesy. Now I'm thinking maybe I didn't give it a fair shot and should try it again.)

Anyway, I'd made it through all the Closer discs on Netflix (love that show!) and needed something else to watch, so I decided to give it a go. The first disc was OK, but it didn't knock my socks off. I decided to keep the rest in my Q, mixed in with some other things. I'd had discs two and three for a couple of weeks before I watched them. Wow. Instant addict. Everything available on Netflix is now at the top of my Q.

The whole series is also now on my Christmas list if, you know, anyone's interested.

Home for Christmas

Well, it looks like I'm going to be home for Christmas. My home, in Houston. By myself. I'm kind of excited. (Don't tell Mom.) My brother and his wife can't make it to Boston this year, and I'm taking the opportunity to ditch. If we were all going to be there, I'd guilt myself into going and then really pay for it. I feel a little bad about leaving my parents childless for the first Christmas in 34 years. But then, my brother and I haven't been children in a very long time. And anyway it about darn time for me to make decisions based on what's best for me, not on guilt and parental expectations.


Mom is pushing for the two of them to fly down here for a few days and then off to see my brother for a few days. My heart sank when she told me that. I'd already started picturing my own peaceful Christmas. Just me and the cat. Make a little turkey, decorate a little tree. Get up when I feel like it and open what ever presents I might have. Listen to some Christmas music and watch a movie or something. No late night church service in the cold. No scrambling around to get the tree decorated and the presents wrapped in time. No last minute cleaning projects or extensive food prep. Something quiet and special and just for me.

At least she told my dad that they'd have to stay in a hotel here. I think Dad is mad, or maybe offended, that they can't stay with me. (This is only by inference, since I'm only allowed to talk to Dad if she's not in the house when I call or if she up to her eyeballs in something messy and can't come right then. And last week when I was slowly coming off that mad with her, Mom had Dad answer my call and talk to me for a while to get the lay of the land and find out if I'd tell him stuff that I wasn't telling her.) (Yes, we get that way when one of us gets a little too up in the other's bidness. I womanfully refrained from mentioning that this whole situation was such a flashback to her relationship with her mother. I thought an imprudent "Your acting just like Grandmom" could blow a perfectly reasonably "U wuz out of ordr and I haz a mad" into a full on cold war, which I really didn't want to have to deal with.

She called today and said that he thinks the whole thing is going to be too expensive and he doesn't want to do it. And now she's sad and hurt. The guilt and the vision of my own little Christmas are battling it out right now. Which one eventually wins will depend on if Mom leaves it alone or if she keeps pushing. If she keeps pushing I'll end up with three adults in a one bedroom, one bath apartment.

If they stay with me they'll have to take my bed and that puts me on an air mattress in the living room. No privacy, no practical way to take a nap during the day. And the Christmas tree will have to be in the living room too, which makes things just that much more crowded. The other option, which I'm afraid Mom might push, is for me to stay in my room and for one of them to take the air mattress and the other sleep on the couch. Now I've taken a fine nap or three on that couch. But anything over a couple of hours is seriously uncomfortable. I would not recommend it. Option Three would be to get them a double or queen sized air mattress, again in the living room with the tree, leaving the main living space crowded in the extreme. We might need to drag a folding table and a comfortable chair into my room so we can play a game or something without feeling like we're tripping over everyone's stuff. I'll have to clean out my little office space- maybe find a way to hang a curtain- so that they can have a private dressing area that's not my bedroom or the bathroom. Because, frankly, I don't share that bathroom well. And three adults taking their showers one after the other (with pauses in between to try a win back a little hot water), and facial cleansing and moisturizing, and painting routines, and teethbrushing, and hair drying and fixing and fluffing.... it all gets to be a bit much. And unless we want unsightly messes on the carpet, we should probably make sure that the cat gets a private moment in there with his litter pan now and then, too. Four days of that would, in the immortal words of Oprah, drive me "foo foo crazy!"

I'm crazy enough, thanks.

moving on

I've calmed down a bit since my last post. The fact that I haven't spoken to my mother yet has probably helped. I'll talk to her tomorrow or Monday, if I feel up to it.

The Remicade has helped a bit. I rolled out of bed this morning and creaked to my feet and then realized that my knees weren't screaming for mercy. Cool. Other unfortunate symptoms are acting up, and the knees didn't stay happy for long, but I'll take what I can get.

I called my GI yesterday to run the prednisone idea past him. In one breath he agreed with me that it was a bad idea, and then said I should do it anyway at the full original 5mg/day she prescribed, not the fall back 2.5mg. I tried calling the GI my GP recommended after that, but I guess they close early on Fridays. I'm going to try again on Monday to see if I can schedule an appointment for a second opinion. Not just about the pred, but my whole treatment program. Obviously, it's not working, and I'm not willing to dink around any longer. The short term disability ends Nov 30, and if they approve the long term disability I absolutely have to be back to work by the end of February or I'll lose my medical insurance. That can't happen. Also, I'd just like to feel good for a change.

NaNo is coming along well. I'm behind the ideal word count, but I'm making nice progress on the story, and I've discovered some stuff about a couple of characters I didn't know before, so I'll take it. Back to the writing.

what I almost said to my mother- but didn't

Tonight I came as close as I ever have in my life to telling my mother to just shut up already. As you may have noticed from my last post, I didn't have the best day today. I warned her when she called that I was upset and in a bad mood. Instead of taking that as a request to lay off, she got offended. And then she went into full on nag mode.

About a month ago I made the huge, huge, God-why-did-I-open-my-mouth, mistake of saying that I was so frustrated with my medical care here in Houston that I might consider going up to Boston for treatment. She jumped on that with both feet, and that's all I've heard about since. She's gone so far as to talk to her doctors and hit up total strangers for referrals.

The last thing, the absolute dead last thing, I want is to move in with my parents for a couple of weeks. (Or months.) I'm hanging on to the last fraying thread of my independence here. I need my peace and quiet. As I said before, there is nothing peaceful or quiet about my mother. Living with her again would drive me straight up the wall.

Anyway, she started nagging me about calling other doctors and setting up appointments. She wants me to call someone in Boston for a referral in Houston. She wants me to call this doctor, and this doctor, and this doctor tomorrow and get information and schedule appointments. Do you want me to call for you? You should be in Boston. They have the best doctors in the world. Boston Medical Center, Mass General, Beth Israel Deaconess, blah, blah, blah. Have you called them yet? Are you on the phone with them now? I don't know why I'm even talking about this with you. I know what you're like when you dig in your feet about something.

Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP.

She very nearly had me in tears before I finally said "I just can't talk about this anymore." I'm so overwhelmed and stressed out right now. I've hit my limit. I can't cope with anything more right now. So please, Mom, just leave me alone.

banging my head against the wall

I went to the Rheumatologist this afternoon to have some blood work done and discuss my current meds. I'm a mess right now, and based on experience I don't believe I'm going to get better on the Remicade/methotrexate cocktail. I want off the MTX, and I want to explore other options, like Humira or Cimzia. When I brought up the possibility, she told me that I hadn't been on the MTX long enough at the current dosage and that she didn't want to raise it yet, but that she'd raise the dose before she'd consider taking me off it. And then she offered me prednisone. Prednisone! The evil step-mother of autoimmune treatments. She wants to put me on 2.5-5 mg of the stuff indefinitely. As in forever. And oh, by the way, I should also go on another IV drug to stop the pred from melting my bones. (Remicade, for those not in the know, is also an IV drug. Typical dosing for Crohn's is one infusion every 8 weeks. I'm currently on one infusion every 6 weeks, and she's talking about upping my dosage on that, too.) Side effects of pred (more common with high doses, but also possible with long term use) include weight gain, cataracts, diabetes, osteoporosis, Cushing's disease, and insomnia. I still haven't managed to clear the thrush from the course I was given in the hospital a year and a half ago, either. And she wants me to go back on that crap? She also wants to consider putting me on a second chemo drug. (MTX is a chemo drug.) She wasn't clear on whether that's in addition to what I'm already on or to replace the Remicade. I'm pretty sure it's in addition. More chemo. That's really going to help my fatigue. I've got to get a new doctor.

/rant

Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away....

My mom came down for an IBD conference this weekend and flew home this morning. I loved having her, but I have to say I'm glad she's gone. I might have mentioned, oh, about 800 times, that Crohn's saps my energy. I'm tired all the time. And my mother, bless her, is not a restful person. A lot of it is guilt. She wants to be here helping me all the time but it's not possible, so when she's here she wants to DO STUFF for me. She wants to be HELPFUL. Never mind that I don't particularly want done any of the stuff she's trying to do. Or that what would really help me is if she'd quit banging around in the kitchen or vacuuming the living room and let me take a nap.

Part of the problem was my expectations, too. I was so excited that she was coming! I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted to take her to the quilt show, and go to the movies, and get our nails done, and maybe go clothes shopping. I really wanted to take her up to the Renaissance Festival, but I thought it might be too much for me, and I didn't want to stress her knee. (She had a knee replacement last winter.) What did we actually do? We went to the conference, and she had to drive us home when it ended at 3:30, because I was too tired to drive. We went to Whole Foods so that I could pick up a few groceries and she could see what kind of gluten free stuff they had. (Some really good stuff, btw.) She helped me pick out new frames for my glasses. That's it. No movies, no quilt show, no nothing. I drove her to the airport and voted this morning, and now I feel like someone hit me with a hammer. This sucks.

I did manage to write a few words for NaNo. I'm up to 1300-something. I want to get a few words on the page today, and hopefully 1500-2000 words tomorrow between naps. Thursday is Remicade and the Rheumatologist, so I don't expect to get much done then. I'd like to get caught up by the end of next weekend, but we'll see. I'd also like to feel like a million bucks, and we've all seen how successful that wish has been.

I think I'll go take a nap now.

Progress

I haven't mentioned it much lately, but I have been making slow but steady progress on the new bed spread. Isn't it fun? The picture is lousy (as usual), but the colors are much brighter in person. I figure I'm about 1/10th done. At this rate it should only take me another three or four years to finish. That's what I get for making such a big project with such small yarn.

The gluten-free project is going well, too. I think my guts are a little happier than they used to be. Once you get used to it, it's not that hard. No harder than any of the other dietary changes I've had to make in the last year and a half. Just one more set of ingredients to watch out for. I tried a gluten-free bread mix in my bread machine this week. Not bad. Not as tasty as what I used to make, but it's bread. At $4.99 it ain't cheap, but it's better than the $7.99 a loaf that Whole Foods charges for gluten-free bread. And I'm sure it's fresher, considering those loaves are in the refrigerated section.

Another big change in the last week- I got my hair cut! This may not seem like a big deal to you, but I haven't had a hair cut in almost a year. I've worn my hair in a standard short bob for at least 15 years. No more. She cut in layers and added blond highlights. And I've discovered why I was having so much trouble with my hair. (Before this hair cut I looked like a white Don King. For real. It was scary.) I always had a little bit of wave in my hair, but mostly it was straight. I now have curly hair! There are swoops and waves everywhere, and I have actual ringlets forming at the back of my neck. It's unreal. My stylist says that hair texture changes over time. The meds could have something to do with it, too. It still blows my mind every time I look in the mirror. I look like I've had a perm!

I have a ways to go yet, but I am getting ready for NaNo. I've read through my notes from two years ago and familiarized myself with a few of the minor characters. I still haven't read through the whole story yet. This week, I promise. I want to make a few notes, do a little brain storming, and be ready when the time comes. I won't be able to start right away- my mom is coming for a long weekend and I'd rather spend the time with her than write. But she leaves on Tuesday, so after I drop her off at the airport and vote I want to dive right in. I'm losing the first three days of NaNo, but I've missed a lot more than that it years past and still made it through.

I managed to get a few referrals for new GI docs today, too. I'm not satisfied with my current medical team. I just don't accept that this is as good as it gets. There's got to be something better out there, some better treatment or combination of treatments, that will give me back my energy and make it possible to go back to work and lead a semi-normal life. I hope to get a few new ideas at an IBD conference this weekend. (That's why Mom is coming in for the weekend- to go with me.) Keep your fingers crossed. I'd love to report some more progress in the healing department soon.

Eulogy for a House Plant

I'm sorry, plant. I'm sorry I never fed you and rarely remembered to water you. You were a gift, and you cheered me up at a time when I desperately needed cheering. You lasted for 16 months- longer than any of your predecessors. I forgot to water you before I left town for a week and a half for Hurricane Ike, and though I watered you and even tried to feed you when I came home, you were never the same. Slowly, one by one, your leaves drooped, turning yellow and then brown. Where once a lush green houseplant stood (OK, you haven't been "lush" for at least a year, but you looked pretty good at first), now there is nothing but brown stalks in a basket with a jaunty white bow. You will be missed.

Gluten Free

It's been two weeks since I started my gluten free experiment. I think it might be working. It hasn't been the magic cure I was hoping for, but nothing else has either. Maybe if I combine enough magic cures, they'll add up to me being healthy again. It's a hope.

I did slip up once this past week. (Can you call a deliberate bad choice a "slip up?" Maybe I should say I fell off the wagon.) I had a couple of kolaches on Tuesday morning, and I was miserable for days afterward. Tuesday and Wednesday were both high stress days. Way high, like stratospherically high, stress days. So that certainly could have had something to do with it. The evidence is suggestive, if not conclusive. I think, for now, I'll stick with the gluten free program.

There is some other good news- my short term disability was approved. Thank God. The check arrived yesterday. I'm no longer broke, desperate, and sick. I'm just sick. And desperate to get better, I suppose. But it's a different kind of desperate from worrying about the money and how I'm going to manage going back to work full time when two hours of running errands puts me in bed for the rest of the day. And most of the next.

I do feel like I'm starting to get the hang of this gluten free stuff. I've read three books on the subject so far. (Well, read one and dipped heavily into the two others.) Usually I turn to the web for research like this, but for some reason I'm not finding the information I need this time. I know it's out there, I just don't seem to be finding it. It's striking to me how each book seems to have a different take on what's safe and what's not. Gluten-Free Girl by Shauna James Ahern is certainly the most strict. And in some ways the least helpful for my situation. It's filled with recipes using ingredients I can't have- nuts, seeds, vegetables that I can't digest. It's also the newest book, and you'd think, would have the most up-to-date information.

The other two books are The Complete Idiot's Guide to Gluten-Free Eating and The Gluten-Free Bible. At least one of the authors of the Idiot's Guide apparently doesn't have Celiacs or gluten sensitivity. The Bible was written by someone with years of experience, but it was published in 2005.

Girl suggests that everything that might possibly have the fainest trace of gluten, no matter how unlikely, requires contacting the manufacturer. It has a lot of information, which other sources suggest is out of date, and reads more like a memoir or collection of essays in some parts than a guide book to gluten free eating. Idiot's Guide explains FDA and USDA labeling laws, the likelihood of various ingredients containing gluten, and says it's up to the reader to decide if it's an acceptable risk. They also point out that in our litigious society, some statements are made to cover the manufacturer even if the possibility of contamination is practically non-existent. Bible has a lot of helpful information, including the low down on various restaurants. Did you know (at least, as of 2005) that IHOP adds pancake batter to their omelets to make them fluffier? I never would have guessed that. The eggs are the one item on any breakfast menu that I would have assumed was safe for me to eat.

It's not all bad news. I've canvased the local grocery stores in the last few days and figured out who has which products and for the best price. Of course, the closest store has the highest prices- by a dollar or more on some items. But their meat department is nasty, so shifting most of my shopping to other stores isn't that great a hardship.

Some of what I've tried has been quite good, some has been meh. One item has made me very happy- it's a regular, non-specialty food that recently made a small formula change to become gluten free. Being a major national brand, it's much cheaper than the specialty gluten free stuff. I've got a lot more products to try. Next time I'll come back with a list of what was good and what wasn't.

10,000 things

This week I've been following an online discussion about weight, and somehow in the last day or so it's morphed into a discussion of stuff. Clutter. One poster said that the average American owns 10,000 items. I would not be surprised. But, have mercy, that's a lot of stuff.

Of course, I couldn't leave a figure like that alone. So I spent about 15 minutes and wandered around my apartment taking a surface count. I didn't open the pantry or any of the kitchen cabinets. (Most of the dishes are dirty on the counter anyway.) I didn't open any boxes. I checked the coat closet and my bedroom closet, but not the linen closet or the very scary storage closet behind me. I did not open the refrigerator and count the sodas or the freezer and count the waffles. This was mostly just a wander around the house to count what was clearly visible. The total came to over 1000 things. I have a lot of crap.

That's not how I want to live. I've been working, in fits and starts, on clearing the clutter for several months now. I'm getting better at weeding out the flotsam- the store coupons for items I never use, receipts I'll never need, stuff that looked important but was really junk mail. It's a constant battle, but one that can be won.

Now it's time to move down a level. To the things that aren't clearly junk. I need to start making decisions about what is useful vs what is just sitting around collecting dust, and then I need to start acting on those decisions. If it's useful it needs a place of it's own. If it's not useful it need to find it's way out of my home. In the past I've done pretty well with making the decisions, but find myself out of the emotional energy necessary to follow through with the actions. The piles may eventually be dragged out to the trash, or if it's really good stuff and I can find the energy and time, to Good Will. But more often than not they will sit all over my living room floor for a week or two, mocking me, until I gather it all up in a bundle and throw it all back in the closet to deal with later. I feel better, briefly, about my clean floor and avoid opening that closet for the next six months, if possible.

To make things interesting, I've decided on a new plan. I'm going to get rid of (and not replace) 1,000 things. Many of the things I counted this afternoon are of daily use or hold sentimental value for me, so I'm keeping them. But I've got at least 3 junk drawers in the kitchen that weren't counted at all. I'm sure they'll yield some treasures. I've knit two blankets for Project Linus, with a third on the way. They can be washed and delivered. On the bookshelf next to my desk I have 3 phone books that are at least two years out of date. Recycling!

I'm getting ready for NaNo next month- I wonder if this is a bizarre version of nesting?

Moving on, I've been gluten-free for 9 days now. I'm feeling a little... different, but I wouldn't say I'm feeling better. Certain symptoms- which are gross and you don't want to hear about here- are better, while others are worse. I'm hoping that going off gluten is like going off caffeine- you feel like crap for a while, until it flushes it's way out of your system, and then you feel better. Come on, better. There are two books about going gluten-free, including recipes, on reserve at the library. Hopefully that will help. I made a lovely, junk-foodie macaroni and cheese with brown rice pasta for dinner last night. It helped tremendously, as I was having visions of driving to the nearest Panera and buying up all the left-over bagels and whatever baguettes they had on hand. I'm sorry, Elaine Gottschall, but giving up all starchy carbs is not for me.

Well, I'm off to bed and the audio version of Komar by Lois McMaster Bujold. If it's wrong to be in love with a fictional character, I don't want to be right.

So, it's been a while....

Many things have happened in the last two months. I'll try to hit the highlights.

I'm on medical leave. Have been since the end of August. Now if only the company where I have my short term disability insurance would approve it.... You have to start the leave before you apply for it, without knowing for sure if they will approve it. If they deny the claim I'm going to be completely out at least 6 weeks of pay at this point. Better or not (and unfortunately, the answer is not), if they don't get me a check soon I'm going to have to go back to work. My savings account is emptying at an alarming rate.

Hurricane Ike came for a little visit. I got out of town. Call me a wimp, I need power and a functioning bathroom. My area was minimally effected. Lots of trees down and roofs damaged, but the power was back on here first and homes weren't totally blown away or under 5 feet of water. I had some water damage in my apartment, which I still haven't strong-armed the management company into fixing. It's only cosmetic, but I don't like opening my eyes every morning to a stained and pealing wall. Things are still pretty screwed up in Houston. Lots of stop lights were messed up, and three weeks later traffic is still a disaster.

I've changed my meds, increased other meds, and taken time off work, but the Crohn's is still kicking my butt. A friend, who has had Crohn's for 20 years and who I look up to as a mentor, gently recommends going gluten-free every time I talk to her. I finally decided to try it. I've been gluten-free for... about 24 hours now. No change so far. I don't expect this to be the miracle cure. But then, at this point I've stopped hoping for the miracle cure. I don't believe it's out there. I think I'm going to have to find all the little pieces that work for me, and put the puzzle together all by myself. Unfortunately, someone lost the box top with the picture on it. And someone else mixed pieces from a bunch of other puzzles into my box. So it's taking a while. I know what I want this thing to look like when I'm done. I just don't know if that's possible with the pieces I have available.

In more cheerful news, National Novel Writing Month is coming up again. My plan (always with the plan!) is to re-read my 2006 novel, and then starting Nov 1, pick up where I left off and finish the damn thing. I shouldn't call it "the damn thing." I really like this story. I think it has potential. It just, like so many other things in my life right now, seems like the impossible task.

Gotta work on that attitude.

Not Enough Hours in a Day

Being sick has to be the biggest time suck in the world. There's never enough time and energy to do everything that needs to be done. From the moment I open my eyes in the morning, I'm late. The alarm is set for 6:05 am and goes off for an hour. I usually wake up at 7:15. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do about that. My body says, "You need sleep more than you need to get up right now," and refuses to flip the switch. I stagger into the bathroom and deal with a good 15-20 minutes of unpleasantness. I clean up from that and then some days I stagger to the laundry room to check the status of whatever sat in the dryer over night. Usually it's not dry yet, so I give it another spin. Back to the bathroom, where I climb in the shower and wash the really important bits. A couple days a week I'll wave a razor in the general vicinity of my under arms. Then I'll sign and look down at all the hair on my legs that I once again won't be shaving. Out of the shower. Dry off. Brush teeth. Towel dry and brush hair. Maybe slap on a little moisturizer if my face is dry.

Next stop the living room. Pull the cell phone off the charger and stuff it in my purse. Make sure I have a full compliment of feminine protection, in case of unfortunate accidents. Make sure I have all my meds. Depending on how late I am at this point, or if the weather is doing something funky, I'll turn on the National news for a few minutes. Someone is grilling something or singing something. If the timing is right I might get to hear a bunch of tourists squeal and wave signs while one or two lucky ones get to tell about their mission trip from South Podunk. And then maybe some weather. All the while pulling on the least wrinkled of the clean clothes piled on top of my dining room table. Put my shoes on. Feed the cat. Hopefully remember to bring a plastic cup so I don't have to drink out of the mini paper ones. Save a tree. And a trip to the water dispenser.

If I'm really lucky there will be something easy to grab for breakfast at my desk. Lean Pocket breakfast pockets, maybe. But usually I ate the last one yesterday and there's nothing. So it's a peanut butter sandwich or a bowl of cold cereal. (Do you have any idea what a hassle it is to pack a bowl of cold cereal to go?) Check again to make sure I have my meds. Trip over the cat on the way out the door.

Arrive at work around 8:20. (Twenty minutes late.) Deal with a grumpy boss who claims to understand my condition but still is mad when I'm not there on the dot of 8. Try not to resent the hypocrisy when he leaves to run his son to sports camp/takes the afternoon off for a massage/takes an hour to get a hair cut/wanders out of the office with a vague "I'll be back" and returns twenty minutes later with a smoothie.

Drag myself through miles of mind numbing paperwork. Hope that I'll make it all the way to Friday before collapsing. Wonder how I'm going to make it to the grocery store after work. Wonder if I really have to. Convince myself that I can squeeze at least one more meal out of the stuff in the freezer and pantry. Stagger out the door at 5:01.

Get home and spend another 20 unpleasant minutes in the bathroom. Clean up again and raid the kitchen. There is nothing to eat. Manage a meal out of ramen noodles, cheese sticks, and a package of diced peaches just slightly past their due date. Put the dirty dishes in the sink. They'll keep 'til tomorrow. Or next week. Or whenever you feel good enough to scrape off the fuzz and throw them in the dishwasher. Vegetate on the couch. Knit a little. Talk to Mom on the phone. Try to pretend things are better than they are. Don't manage to fool her. Go read a book in the bathroom for a while. Final round of medicine for the night. Hope I can do it all tomorrow. After all, it was only Tuesday.

Hello? Pizza joint? Is anyone home?

All I want is a pizza. And maybe some bread sticks. You know, something starchy and fatty that I'll enjoy in the moment and then pay for later. Is that so much to ask? Apparently, it is. I've placed six phone calls to three different locations of a national pizza chain, and they all say that they don't cover my area, someone else does. I've talked to three different managers. They all point the finger at someone else. Now I'm waiting for one of them to call me back and tell me, finally and for sure, which location will take my order. I'm not holding my breath. It really shouldn't be this hard to sin.

The Man With the Golden Torc

Just a quickie today. More to come.

I've been reading The Man With the Golden Torc by Simon R. Green. It's... I don't know what it is. Different. Funny in a way I'm not used to seeing in Urban Fantasy. Repetitive. The author could have used some help from an editor or critique partner. When the action is going he's fine. But when he's describing stuff we get the same info two or three times. Those sections read like NaNo drafts. The main character is perfectly serious, but some of the superhero stuff is wacky, maybe even camp. I'm enjoying it, but I'm not sure if I'd read a follow up. I'll definitely finish this one, though. This book just might be Art. It's definitely causing a reaction, although I can't quite nail down what the reaction is.

And I'm not quite 100 pages in yet. I'll let you know what I think when I finish.

Certain Girls

I spent the morning and half the afternoon reading Certain Girls by Jennifer Weiner. What a rip-off. I'd heard that it was really funny, but I couldn't find anything funny about it. I'm not really surprised- the first book had a fair bit of tragedy before finding a happy ending. There was no happy ending for this one. I sobbed my way through the last forty pages.

Spoilers Ahead.

Why did she have to kill Peter? What purpose did it serve in the story? None that I could see, other than a cheap way to wring tears out of the reader. It finally looks like the problems between Cannie and Joy have been worked out, and BAM! Her husband dies. At the end of the book she's lost her job and her husband. Joy, her 13 year-old daughter seems to be holding things together. She's written another book- one that's she's not too sure of and will likely cause more problems. And worst of all, she's got a brand new baby that I'm not convinced she ever wanted.

I don't mind a little tragedy in my books, but there's got to be an emotional payoff of some sort at the end. I'm sorry, there was no payoff for me in this book. No resolution. Just more misery. And a headache for me, from crying so hard.

And now I have to get it back to the library so it can make someone else miserable. Boy, am I glad I didn't read it at the beach house like I'd planned.

Is it weird?

So, I met this guy a couple of years ago. He was smart, nice, funny, had a cool job. I was definitely interested. In fact, he's the only guy I'd met in years that made me sit up and think "Wow!" And he seemed interested, too. We met through a writing group, and he always made a point to talk to me. There was even an email or two exchanged.

And then he just disappeared.

In this group that's not terribly unusual. Things get busy and life intrudes and people wander off. He's a few years older, and I know he had kids. Maybe it was just really bad timing. But I thought there was something there.

Is it too weird that I still think about this guy every once in a while?

New Knitty

The new Knitty is up. Yippie! And they've announced their 2009 calendar contest. I'm so new to the online knitting community that I didn't even know they had a calendar, let alone a contest to fill it. I'd love to enter, but if you've seen any of my pictures here on the blog, you know I am not one of the world's great photographers. Actually, I'm not bad. I just don't have a great camera. The light isn't so hot in my apartment, either. But I'm not spending a bunch of money on a new camera right now.

Also, I need to knit something to take a picture of. I should probably work on that part first, huh? I've got a pile of patterns I want to make, including a couple of sock patterns from the summer issue. This one is designed for self-striping yarn, and you know I love me some self-striping yarn. http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEsummer08/PATTmuscari.html I think that one is my favorite of the bunch.

As you may have guessed, I am back from vacation. I'm not up to blogging about it yet- maybe this weekend. I remembered to take my camera, but forgot to use it, so sorry. No pictures. Whoops!

An Annual Event

Brace yourselves, folks. I shaved my legs this morning. That's right, I've spent the last year as a hairy feminist. Not out of any particular political conviction (Although I'm proud to say I'm a feminist. What's up with all the women today who say they aren't feminists? Do you like being paid less for the same job or having others limit your access to reproductive care and birth control? Really now.), but because I've been too exhausted/lazy to deal with it. Let me tell you, it takes a lot of energy to shave that much acreage on a semi-regular basis.

You wouldn't believe the hassle in shaving off a year's worth of leg hair. First of all, it requires multiple razors. That much hair dulls the blades fast. If you want to leave the skin and remove the hair, you'd better be prepared to switch out at least half way through. And then there's the problem of missing spots. When you shave regularly and miss a spot, no one is going to notice a little stubble. (Unless they're feeling on your legs, in which case Good For You!) When you've got a year's worth of leg hair and you miss a spot, it's visible from space. I think I got it all, but I guarantee I'll find a big ol' spot when I put on my shorts at the beach tomorrow. Whoops!

I can't wait to get there. I missed the beach house last year because I was in the hospital. I was so damn sick I hardly even regretted it at the time. All I wanted to do was lie there. Even if they'd sprung me, I couldn't have managed the trip. This year it may not be all good- things have been a little rough again this week- but it's a hell of a lot better than last year.

I even remembered to pack my camera, so maybe I'll have a few pictures to post next week!

Why did I do that?

I made a big mistake. I've been eating junk food this week, and now I'm paying for it. Big time. I've been in the bathroom approximately eight hundred thirty-two times today, and as soon as I'm done posting this it'll be back to the throne room. I just hope things settle down in time for me to drive to the beach Friday night. Crohn's bites big wang.