Almost Sane

If we get good test results back tomorrow, there is a fair to partly-cloudy chance I'll be almost sane.

Son #2 braved the colonoscopy and esophagus scope like a pro, and the hospital staff couldn't have been any nicer or more helpful.  We got some great pics of his healthy colon, and some not so great pics of his stomach with slight irritations.  Those have been biopsied and now we wait for the results.

So we are praying for an ulcer.   In a ten-year-old. 

Friday was the year anniversary of Burning Down the House.  Hubby and I were awakened by loud sobbing at 3 AM.   Son #2 was remembering the fire, and being in the house, and the cats we lost and was unconsolable for awhile.

This isn't good;  but i think we have hit on the root source of the ulcer, if that's what this is. 

If.

Can't think of much else now, so Roger, Out.

Feeling McCoy Ornery

Some days, my prescription anti-depressants just don't work, and my slight mania takes over.  It's kinda fun, so I'm not complaining.  But I feel like doing radical things now:  things like going into Son #2's room and screaming, "Wake up now you little shit" for no good reason.  I sometimes feel like howling at the moon, or like making love all day.

Of course, I don't ACT on these urges....they just exist.  That's why I'm only cyclothymic and not fully bipolar.  But I think the McCoy gene doesn't help much.  Seriously, all my McCoy relatives are ornery and not quite right.  I've spoken of this previously, and even included proof that we are insane in a previous entry. 

For example, right now I am investigating two web sites:  deathswitch.com and slightlymorbid.com.  These sites offer you a way to reach out from beyond the grave and let your online friends know you have died, or lets your coworkers know important passwords, etc.  I find this fascinating;  I have made many friends online who I would miss if they suddenly disappeared.  Seems weird, but this is the Information Age, peeples, so get with the program.

So, call it what you may, but I am definitely feeling McCoy ornery today.  Maybe I should go visit my Grandpa McCoy, who is having a very tough time after Grandma's death.  He misses his life partner.  We never had a funeral for her, and it got too cold to spread her ashes over the lake or to bury the cremains, so I feel like I have no closure there.   We need a good old fashioned Irish wake -- where we can all get together and get down and dysfunctional. 

Or maybe I'll just go back to that making love all day idea. 


 

Things That Worry Me

1.  Son #2 has to have a colonoscopy and endoblahblahscopy this week.  He's only ten, so this is extremely worrisome.  But at least we might have some answers as to why he's been sick for 3 months.  As he so eloquently said in a fit of frustration the other night, "But they are going to shove a camera up my ASS!"

2.  The US Supreme Court made a historically bad ruling this week.  Evidently corporations are now considered equal with citizens with first amendment protections.  Translation = Big business is going to rule the country now, since they can donate to political candidates with no limits.  Can you say Facism?

3.  What will happen once I publish Thresholds and Other Ruminations in March?  Is this a totally stupid dream of mine that I should give up?  Guess it's too late now, as the publisher has the final product all ready to go.  Maybe I should have thought this through more...I kinda need that pesky day job to pay the mortgage on our new house.

4.  We have yet to submit a page on this year's yearbook.  Same shit, different year.

5.  The damn kids decided to do a "mustache" issue of the school newspaper, over my loud protests.  Now, the three girls who wanted it the most didn't write their fucking stories.  We have no pics.  Deadline night is next Tuesday.  Heads will roll.

6.  The power keeps flickering and going off and on today; 3 days after an ice storm.  No big deal, EXCEPT I'M ADDICTED TO THE INTERNET. 

Time to admit I'm a worry wart.  Time to admit Delani has no control over life. Time to stop talking about self in 3rd person.

7th Snow Day and Day 27 Blues

I'm singing the blues today.  If I were more clever, like my bestest college buddy Sandita, I would compose a song.

But I'm not that clever.  All I can do is bitch in prose. 

Today is our 7th snow day of the school year.  It is actually the second ice day; today we are closed because of power outages due to the recent ice storm.  This means we have to make up school well into June;  looks like around the 10th for kids by now and 11th for teachers.  I don't really care, as we will still be working on the yearbook into July most likely.  The attached photo is one I took yesterday of our evergreen tree, in case a picture IS worth a thousand words.

More importantly, I'm singing the Day 27 blues due to an erratic menstrual cycle.  I used to be regular as hell; but now, i'm all over the place as I enter peri-menopause.  I have night sweats now and surprise periods -- how's that for living life on the edge?

So, back to the old grindstone:  gmail, facebook x 3 accounts, plurk, twitter, youtube, flickr, skype and irc chat.  Somebody's gotta be a lush.

Cute Shoe Fetish

I haz dat.

I love cute shoes.  Imelda Marcos has nothing on me. 

(History lesson according to wikipedia:  After the Marcos family fled Malacañang Palace, Marcos was found to have left behind 15 mink coats, 508 gowns, 1000 handbags^[11] and 3000 pairs of shoes.^[12] )

I left behind many shoes also; shoes from the 70's and 80's and 90's and 2000's.  Left them in the stupid burning house.  I've received many cute shoes since the fire, though, from donations and from buying them.  One problem:  I have plantar fasciitis and am not supposed to wear cute shoes.

Heavy sigh.  

Redundant Redundacies

I have a big chip on my shoulder about redundancies.  I am a trained journalist, so I am well aware of the rule of avoiding redundancies like "8:00 a.m. in the morning" or "total destruction." 

But I had a boss a few years back who had a bug up his butt about using the same word twice within a piece of writing.  In this case, it was grant reports.  So, he would have everyone proofread everyone else's writing, and if you used a word twice, you were in trouble.  

I have been using words on purpose repeatedly in this blog, for effect, and in my writing in real life for a long time.  I don't think you have to use a fucking thesaurus to compose.  I think some words are fun to use over and over and over.  I would have liked to have had this argument with my boss, but he fired me before I could get to it.   I think this is the one black cloud in my brain that just won't go away.  I got fired for being incompetent as a philanthropist. 

Sigh.  The only other job I was ever fired from was a fast-food restaurant when i was 15.  I was smoking on the job -- even though I didn't smoke.  Found a pack in the dining room after closing and lit one up to be funny.  What I didn't know was my regional supervisor was hiding in the dining room spying on us.   Oh well, I lied and said I was 16 anyway to get the job, so there. 

So, to sum:  don't be redundant unless the redundancy is effective.  Don't work for rich, snobby people, and whatevr you do:  don't smoke on the job.

Epic Dilemma

I tease a lot, and sometimes I never let the reader in on the story.  I think maybe Book #4 will be the ruminations that I have alluded to but haven't gone into depth about. 

A few entries ago, I teased about an epic dilemma we face this holiday season.  Then, in the last entry I mentioned a bad loan to a family member. . and that is where this tale begins.

We loaned some of our fire insurance money to a family member who promised to pay it back way before we would need it.  BUT OF COURSE, he didn't pay it back...well, he wrote a bad check for it.  So we are screwed.  Can't turn him into the law and can't break his ankles.  All we can do is wait for his new anti-depressants to kick in and hope he makes a payment plan soon. 

The dilemma isn't that though, the dilemma is that we are expected to go to a Christmas celebration with this person and act like nothing has happened.  If we don't go, then we will be the bad guys.  I am not good at holding my tongue, so this could be interesting.  IF it ever happens.  The weather screwed everything up at Christmas this year:  Son #1 didn't come up and we didn't go to my parents for Christmas Eve. 

As a result, we didn't get together on Christmas day with this person.  He canceled again for the following Sunday when the weather wasn't even bad.  Then, he canceled again today, New Year's Day.  So we are supposed to change our schedule and go on Sunday.  I felt like a fool buying presents for them, and I am resentful that they used OUR money to buy presents for us.  What a crock of shit.

I'm not being a very good person this holiday season by harboring this resentment.  I know this.  But I've had this debt owed to us for 6 months now, and it wears on you over time.  I hardly care that he almost killed himself from guilt over our debt and others...that's how numb I am to the whole situation.

So, how can I combine my new clergy aspirations with my old resentments?  How can I snap out of this funk and get to more healthy feelings?  This is the most epic dilemma I've ever faced to date, mainly because I always used contraception and didn't get pregnant when I was a teenager.

Yup, never got knocked up but now I got knocked down by money.  Oh, and also because we trusted this person to tell us the truth and make good on his promises.  Should have listened to what THEY say:  Never lend money to a family member.