Did you ever get the feeling that you're going straight to hell? No passing go, no collecting $200, no wings, no harp, no nothing. You're just on the fast track to Hades.
I feel that way sometimes.
Like today. I received a 'heads up' call from a coworker that I would be hearing shortly from a professor who needs some work done. Just the mention of his name sent chills down my spine, as it does for virtually anyone around here. To put it delicately, the guy's a ball breaker. And he's untouchable too. I mean, he's an excellent prof, he deserves to be here, but working with him is a whole other story.
So I pulled out my defenses and called someone I know who works with him a lot to get some pointers. I'd dealt with him before (it wasn't too bad, but it certainly was no picnic either) but it's been many years, and I needed advice and support. Along the way we each made some comments about what a hardass he is and how I'm dreading talking to him and just generally venting.
So shortly afterward I get a call from him, and in the course of our conversation he tells me how much he enjoyed working with me in the past and he was very happy to be working with me again.
Now my friends tell me to not let that fool me, that there's a viper beneath those words. But I couldn't help but feel guilty and sorry that I'd said some pretty mean things. I had no idea that he actually enjoyed working with me, and I really did feel bad about what I'd done.
OK, so maybe that's not enough to make me go to hell, but if you do that often enough maybe THAT'S enough to make you go to hell.
Actually, I don't even believe in hell, but being raised Catholic, even if you don't believe it, you still fear it!!!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Think, then speak...
I generally think people should talk less. I can be quite a talker, to be sure, but I think pretty darned hard before I say something, and with good reason. In the words of Samuel Johnson, “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than open one's mouth and remove all doubt.”
Seriously amigos, more people need to take that sage advice to heart. I'm not referring to my friends or anything, but to the general public.
Let me tell you a little something that happened to me that will illustrate my point. I was at the grocery store. This is a small co-op in my neighborhood, Outpost Natural Foods, and I shop there regularly. Now, I'm a very polite person when I'm out amongst the general public, and especially there because it's a very small store. I don't like to cause trouble or get into other people's biz or whatnot. I just do my thing and try to leave as small a footprint as possible.
So I had my basket in one arm and was near the produce to get some avocadoes. There was a woman standing near them, and her husband or boyfriend was next to her, bending down to get whatever was on the bottom. She was waiting for him. So I said to her quietly and politely 'Excuse me' and reached a bit in front of her to grab an avocado. She politely moved for me.
End of story, right? Well, no.
As I'm placing the avocado in my basket the man she was with stands up and says, in a voice just dripping venom and sarcasm (think of the comic store guy from the Simpsons):
"The words are 'excuse me'."
It took a minute to register that he was actually talking to me. When it did, I replied "I said 'excuse me.'" Then his wife told him "She said 'excuse me.'"
So then HE says, "Well I didn't hear you." To which I answered "I wasn't talking to you."
So I did a little more produce picking, and got to thinking about what he said. I couldn't believe the nerve it took for that man to talk to me like that, and it's especially hurtful to me, because I'm a person who regularly says 'excuse me' when the situation calls for it, it's just how I was raised, and I try so hard to be polite.
So before leaving that aisle I said to him "You know, I really think you need to mind your own business." And you know folks, I believe I was justified in saying that. What was his response?
"I just think people need to be more polite."
I simply responded "I am polite" and walked away.
But then I started thinking, where does this guy get off being the polite police? Seriously. I'd love to know where he gets the balls big enough to think that he can dictate to complete strangers appropriate public behavior.
So, yeah, people need to shut the hell up MUCH more than they do presently. Or in the words of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, "Know your role, and shut your mouth."
Of course he also said "If ya smell what the Rock is cookin'" and did lots of talking about layin' the smack down on people's asses...
Seriously amigos, more people need to take that sage advice to heart. I'm not referring to my friends or anything, but to the general public.
Let me tell you a little something that happened to me that will illustrate my point. I was at the grocery store. This is a small co-op in my neighborhood, Outpost Natural Foods, and I shop there regularly. Now, I'm a very polite person when I'm out amongst the general public, and especially there because it's a very small store. I don't like to cause trouble or get into other people's biz or whatnot. I just do my thing and try to leave as small a footprint as possible.
So I had my basket in one arm and was near the produce to get some avocadoes. There was a woman standing near them, and her husband or boyfriend was next to her, bending down to get whatever was on the bottom. She was waiting for him. So I said to her quietly and politely 'Excuse me' and reached a bit in front of her to grab an avocado. She politely moved for me.
End of story, right? Well, no.
As I'm placing the avocado in my basket the man she was with stands up and says, in a voice just dripping venom and sarcasm (think of the comic store guy from the Simpsons):
"The words are 'excuse me'."
It took a minute to register that he was actually talking to me. When it did, I replied "I said 'excuse me.'" Then his wife told him "She said 'excuse me.'"
So then HE says, "Well I didn't hear you." To which I answered "I wasn't talking to you."
So I did a little more produce picking, and got to thinking about what he said. I couldn't believe the nerve it took for that man to talk to me like that, and it's especially hurtful to me, because I'm a person who regularly says 'excuse me' when the situation calls for it, it's just how I was raised, and I try so hard to be polite.
So before leaving that aisle I said to him "You know, I really think you need to mind your own business." And you know folks, I believe I was justified in saying that. What was his response?
"I just think people need to be more polite."
I simply responded "I am polite" and walked away.
But then I started thinking, where does this guy get off being the polite police? Seriously. I'd love to know where he gets the balls big enough to think that he can dictate to complete strangers appropriate public behavior.
So, yeah, people need to shut the hell up MUCH more than they do presently. Or in the words of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, "Know your role, and shut your mouth."
Of course he also said "If ya smell what the Rock is cookin'" and did lots of talking about layin' the smack down on people's asses...
Check ups and such
Hola Amigos,
Had my first post-op check up with Dr. Hunky McHunk and it appears that all is well. My fears of reinjuring myself appear to be ungrounded. See, when I walk I'm getting some pain that isn't exactly the same but somewhat similar to the pain I had before and all I could think of was that I messed something up by walking too soon or too late or not enough or too much or whatnot. But he assured me with those big brown eyes of his that all is well.
I followed that appointment up with my first therapy appointment, which went remarkably well. I've had therapy before and I'm not a fan, but this therapist and clinic and essentially everything is so much nicer than what I've had before. So yeah, I'm feeling alright folks.
Then I followed that appointment with an appointment with my OTHER therapist (you know, that kind of therapist). I'm not at all ashamed to admit I go to therapy. It's probably one of the smartest things I've ever done, and I've been doing it for years. See, my employer, bless their hearts, has terrific benefits and they have the presence of mind to realize that mental health is as important as physical health. I don't get this stuff for free of course, but it's treated with my insurance just like anything else. Maybe a bit more expensive. But it's worth it.
Oh, I got the statement about my procedure and other procedure-centric treatment. The arthroscopic surgery alone cost $11,000. The sad thing is, that doesn't surprise me. Thankfully, as I noted above, I have insurance. So I'll end up paying something but I don't know what or how much. My strategy is to let them bill me several times. Eventually they get the right number. Usually by the fourth or fifth statements. No lie. I had one come through a while back that said I owed something like $500 for something. So I waited. The next bill said I owed $150. So I waited. When all was said and done I think I owed $15, which I paid. I just give them time to figure out what the hell is going on, then pay it when it seems reasonable and matches what I think to be an appropriate amount.
I mean, come on, I don't really understand much of this insurance crap anyway. And half of what I get from them, or even more, are statements that look exactly like bills and include tear off segments for you to send back to them and return envelopes, but that also have written prominently THIS IS NOT A BILL. So, OK. Tell me when it is, alright fellas? Then we can talk.
Other than that it's the same old thing I guess. Work, home, volunteer. I'm still planning on attending weight watchers tomorrow night (Lord give me strength...this is NOT going to be easy). Dr. Hunky told me that for each pound you're overweight (or was it just each pound period? I sometimes miss what he's saying because I'm trying too hard to keep from tearing his clothes off) it adds 3 pounds of pressure to your knees. Or something like that. It's a lot of pressure, to be sure. So I told him, and I told my therapist and essentially anyone else in the field who would listen, that I have every intention of losing weight.
It's a lot for me to admit I need the help of an organization like weight watchers. I prefer to do things alone. I prefer to be in charge. But with something like, losing a large amount of weight, I think I need to swallow my pride (and not as many donuts) and admit that the group mentality is probably what's keeping me from being successful. So, I'll take the plunge. I actually wish I had someone to go with me. I really do. Normally you won't hear me say that, but in this case it's true.
Today (actually today and probably the last month) I'm eating what I feel like. I know I've packed on some pounds recently (being home bound and hobbled will do that to you), and I just stopped caring. It will be great to have some structure and purpose, and I'm hoping that's what I get from the meeting.
Know something weird? Over the weekend I was just stressing about my weight (you should read my journal; I get pretty scary when I'm journaling). When I came in to work Monday someone had dropped off some journals for me to withdraw (wait...I'm getting a feeling of deja vu...did I write this already?), a whole bunch of People magazines. I'm not a People magazine fan, but as luck would have it (either that or this person was trying to send me a message) the one sitting on top (of about 30 journals) was the special 'weight loss' issue. "No Surgery! No Pills! Half Their Size!" And there staring me in the face are people who used to be like me. And I thought, "People do accomplish this. It can work." I read the article of course, and I felt bolstered and encouraged. :) And on a more personal level, my buddy Alabaster Mom sent me some very dear words of encouragement. Just hearing her say "I know you can do it" gives me a spark of hope that I can.
Now I'm getting teary eyed. Maybe I'm afraid to go to the meeting tomorrow because I think I might cry...I do cry rather easily...I don't know. Either way amigos, you'll get every last detail.
Had my first post-op check up with Dr. Hunky McHunk and it appears that all is well. My fears of reinjuring myself appear to be ungrounded. See, when I walk I'm getting some pain that isn't exactly the same but somewhat similar to the pain I had before and all I could think of was that I messed something up by walking too soon or too late or not enough or too much or whatnot. But he assured me with those big brown eyes of his that all is well.
I followed that appointment up with my first therapy appointment, which went remarkably well. I've had therapy before and I'm not a fan, but this therapist and clinic and essentially everything is so much nicer than what I've had before. So yeah, I'm feeling alright folks.
Then I followed that appointment with an appointment with my OTHER therapist (you know, that kind of therapist). I'm not at all ashamed to admit I go to therapy. It's probably one of the smartest things I've ever done, and I've been doing it for years. See, my employer, bless their hearts, has terrific benefits and they have the presence of mind to realize that mental health is as important as physical health. I don't get this stuff for free of course, but it's treated with my insurance just like anything else. Maybe a bit more expensive. But it's worth it.
Oh, I got the statement about my procedure and other procedure-centric treatment. The arthroscopic surgery alone cost $11,000. The sad thing is, that doesn't surprise me. Thankfully, as I noted above, I have insurance. So I'll end up paying something but I don't know what or how much. My strategy is to let them bill me several times. Eventually they get the right number. Usually by the fourth or fifth statements. No lie. I had one come through a while back that said I owed something like $500 for something. So I waited. The next bill said I owed $150. So I waited. When all was said and done I think I owed $15, which I paid. I just give them time to figure out what the hell is going on, then pay it when it seems reasonable and matches what I think to be an appropriate amount.
I mean, come on, I don't really understand much of this insurance crap anyway. And half of what I get from them, or even more, are statements that look exactly like bills and include tear off segments for you to send back to them and return envelopes, but that also have written prominently THIS IS NOT A BILL. So, OK. Tell me when it is, alright fellas? Then we can talk.
Other than that it's the same old thing I guess. Work, home, volunteer. I'm still planning on attending weight watchers tomorrow night (Lord give me strength...this is NOT going to be easy). Dr. Hunky told me that for each pound you're overweight (or was it just each pound period? I sometimes miss what he's saying because I'm trying too hard to keep from tearing his clothes off) it adds 3 pounds of pressure to your knees. Or something like that. It's a lot of pressure, to be sure. So I told him, and I told my therapist and essentially anyone else in the field who would listen, that I have every intention of losing weight.
It's a lot for me to admit I need the help of an organization like weight watchers. I prefer to do things alone. I prefer to be in charge. But with something like, losing a large amount of weight, I think I need to swallow my pride (and not as many donuts) and admit that the group mentality is probably what's keeping me from being successful. So, I'll take the plunge. I actually wish I had someone to go with me. I really do. Normally you won't hear me say that, but in this case it's true.
Today (actually today and probably the last month) I'm eating what I feel like. I know I've packed on some pounds recently (being home bound and hobbled will do that to you), and I just stopped caring. It will be great to have some structure and purpose, and I'm hoping that's what I get from the meeting.
Know something weird? Over the weekend I was just stressing about my weight (you should read my journal; I get pretty scary when I'm journaling). When I came in to work Monday someone had dropped off some journals for me to withdraw (wait...I'm getting a feeling of deja vu...did I write this already?), a whole bunch of People magazines. I'm not a People magazine fan, but as luck would have it (either that or this person was trying to send me a message) the one sitting on top (of about 30 journals) was the special 'weight loss' issue. "No Surgery! No Pills! Half Their Size!" And there staring me in the face are people who used to be like me. And I thought, "People do accomplish this. It can work." I read the article of course, and I felt bolstered and encouraged. :) And on a more personal level, my buddy Alabaster Mom sent me some very dear words of encouragement. Just hearing her say "I know you can do it" gives me a spark of hope that I can.
Now I'm getting teary eyed. Maybe I'm afraid to go to the meeting tomorrow because I think I might cry...I do cry rather easily...I don't know. Either way amigos, you'll get every last detail.
Monday, February 25, 2008
I didn't win.
Not only did I not win the Oscar pool, I tanked. Big time. Honestly, it was really frustrating for me. I just couldn't get anything right. And I did some heavy research beforehand. I got a lot of the smaller categories wrong, and boy do those add up. A lot of times that's what makes the winner. I did get a couple of the biggies right, like actor, movie, director, but not enough to win anything back.
The ceremony was as annoying as ever. No matter how hard they try they just can't make it good. Jon Stewart is a great host, but he can't make up for the production numbers, the inanity...blech.
I spent a goodly amount of time flipping between the awards and Pride and Prejudice on PBS. If you compared the time watched side by side P and P would win hands down. I've seen it many times but I just can't get enough of it! A straight male friend of mine has exclaimed numerous times "I'd go gay for Colin Firth" based strictly on his role as Mr. Darcy. If you haven't seen it, you must. It's so wonderfully done, and Colin Firth is simply divine, the ultimate Mr. Darcy. It's such a dear story, to watch her falling in love with him, and how he comes to understand himself. Simply amazing. I'm reading the book now too, and simply love it.
I didn't do a whole lot this weekend. I'm watching LOST on dvd and just finished disc 2 of season 2. It's a surprisingly good show. And it's got Matthew Fox in it. 'nuff said. I am also watching another Werner Herzog movie, this one starts out in Germany and ends up in Wisconsin. It's very odd.
I made sort of a decision this weekend too. It's been a very difficult decision for me, for many reasons. Some monetary, some emotional, some fear-based. But I've decided to join Weight Watchers. I wouldn't say it's against my better judgment, but it is against my gut (I am fully aware of the irony). I've been in weight watchers before, it's probably been a good 12 or 13 years. I stopped going because of an incident that really bothered me. Back then there were several ways you could pay. I chose some sort of ticket system (it's fuzzy to me). Anyway, one week I couldn't go to my regular meeting so I opted for another one later in the week at the same location. According to them I had to relinquish 2 tickets. It sounds minor here, but it really, really bothered me. I was trying to do the right thing by attending a meeting in lieu of the one I missed. But since I'd gone over this arbitrary number of days they insisted that I pay twice (i.e., give them 2 tickets). I was floored that they were so concerned about getting that from me, and believe me, they were. I turned in my 2 tickets and I never went back. It just bothered me so. It may sound petty here, but it really rubbed me the wrong way, that they couldn't understand my situation and that it was so God awful important to them to get their money. I realized that these people didn't care about me at all. They didn't know my name, nor anything about me. They just wanted to be sure I didn't get a 'freebie.' I don't know if it was WW themselves or just that chapter, but that hurt man. Just sucked all the enthusiasm right out of me.
However, I know I need help, I need to do something. I'm not accomplishing anything on my own, and I hope that the structure of a weekly meeting will help me get back on track. I know Weight Watchers works. The meeting I will be attending is for people with 50+ pounds to lose. I don't have 50+ pounds to lose, I have 50+100 pounds to lose. But I have to do something amigos. I'm not discussing this with many people. Mainly my mother (is it a coincidence that I decided to do this while she is in Texas visiting her sisters? I think not). I can't explain to you why (that's between me and my therapist) but getting praise from her has the opposite effect on me. If I could drop 50 pounds without her noticing I'd be a very happy person. I realize that's fucked up but it's the way things are between my mom and me. Her usual phrase of encouragement is "Keep it up." Not "great job" or anything. But "keep it up." Sorry amigos, that's not good for me to hear. It just means that in her eyes I've got a long way to go.
There is a lot of fear involved here. Tons of fear. Fear of failure and fear of success. Fear of changing my lifestyle, fear of changing the way I look. I'm not going to burden you all with any of this. That's what I'm going to see my therapist tomorrow to do. But I figured I'd let you know. Maybe that's the turn this blog will take, my journey. Or maybe not. I don't know. But my first meeting is going to be Thursday night. I'll let you know how it goes.
Peace out.
The ceremony was as annoying as ever. No matter how hard they try they just can't make it good. Jon Stewart is a great host, but he can't make up for the production numbers, the inanity...blech.
I spent a goodly amount of time flipping between the awards and Pride and Prejudice on PBS. If you compared the time watched side by side P and P would win hands down. I've seen it many times but I just can't get enough of it! A straight male friend of mine has exclaimed numerous times "I'd go gay for Colin Firth" based strictly on his role as Mr. Darcy. If you haven't seen it, you must. It's so wonderfully done, and Colin Firth is simply divine, the ultimate Mr. Darcy. It's such a dear story, to watch her falling in love with him, and how he comes to understand himself. Simply amazing. I'm reading the book now too, and simply love it.
I didn't do a whole lot this weekend. I'm watching LOST on dvd and just finished disc 2 of season 2. It's a surprisingly good show. And it's got Matthew Fox in it. 'nuff said. I am also watching another Werner Herzog movie, this one starts out in Germany and ends up in Wisconsin. It's very odd.
I made sort of a decision this weekend too. It's been a very difficult decision for me, for many reasons. Some monetary, some emotional, some fear-based. But I've decided to join Weight Watchers. I wouldn't say it's against my better judgment, but it is against my gut (I am fully aware of the irony). I've been in weight watchers before, it's probably been a good 12 or 13 years. I stopped going because of an incident that really bothered me. Back then there were several ways you could pay. I chose some sort of ticket system (it's fuzzy to me). Anyway, one week I couldn't go to my regular meeting so I opted for another one later in the week at the same location. According to them I had to relinquish 2 tickets. It sounds minor here, but it really, really bothered me. I was trying to do the right thing by attending a meeting in lieu of the one I missed. But since I'd gone over this arbitrary number of days they insisted that I pay twice (i.e., give them 2 tickets). I was floored that they were so concerned about getting that from me, and believe me, they were. I turned in my 2 tickets and I never went back. It just bothered me so. It may sound petty here, but it really rubbed me the wrong way, that they couldn't understand my situation and that it was so God awful important to them to get their money. I realized that these people didn't care about me at all. They didn't know my name, nor anything about me. They just wanted to be sure I didn't get a 'freebie.' I don't know if it was WW themselves or just that chapter, but that hurt man. Just sucked all the enthusiasm right out of me.
However, I know I need help, I need to do something. I'm not accomplishing anything on my own, and I hope that the structure of a weekly meeting will help me get back on track. I know Weight Watchers works. The meeting I will be attending is for people with 50+ pounds to lose. I don't have 50+ pounds to lose, I have 50+100 pounds to lose. But I have to do something amigos. I'm not discussing this with many people. Mainly my mother (is it a coincidence that I decided to do this while she is in Texas visiting her sisters? I think not). I can't explain to you why (that's between me and my therapist) but getting praise from her has the opposite effect on me. If I could drop 50 pounds without her noticing I'd be a very happy person. I realize that's fucked up but it's the way things are between my mom and me. Her usual phrase of encouragement is "Keep it up." Not "great job" or anything. But "keep it up." Sorry amigos, that's not good for me to hear. It just means that in her eyes I've got a long way to go.
There is a lot of fear involved here. Tons of fear. Fear of failure and fear of success. Fear of changing my lifestyle, fear of changing the way I look. I'm not going to burden you all with any of this. That's what I'm going to see my therapist tomorrow to do. But I figured I'd let you know. Maybe that's the turn this blog will take, my journey. Or maybe not. I don't know. But my first meeting is going to be Thursday night. I'll let you know how it goes.
Peace out.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
My Oscar Predictions, So Far
Hola Amigos,
The ballot isn't due until tomorrow, but I've made some good headway in my Oscar predictions for my annual pool. I reserve the right to change my mind, but here are my predictions for the biggies.
Best Picture: Well, this is tough, but I'm currently going with No Country for Old Men. To me it comes down to this, or There Will Be Blood. Truly a tough call because they are both brilliant. But I think that NCFOM is going to win.
Best Director: I'm going with Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country for Old Men.Another tough call, because PT Anderson directed TWBB and it's incredible. But these are the Coen Brothers we're talking about. I think their time has come.
Best Actor: Daniel Day Lewis. If he doesn't win I'll eat a bug.
Best Actress:Not as much of a lock as Best Actor, but I'll say Julie Christie.
Best Supporting Actor: Javier Bardem. Duh.
Best Supporting Actress: I really haven't a clue in this category, and the only nominee I've seen is Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton (and she turned in the best performance in the film, hands down). However, the buzz seems to be all about Cate Blanchett and since I'm in it to win it I'm choosing her.
Best Screenplay, Adapted: This is a tough one for me. I had to rely on some savvy internet snooping to see what critics and those in the know think. They think No Country for Old Men is the frontrunner, and I'm inclined to agree.
Best Screenplay, Original: I understand that Juno is really heading up this bunch, and I also understand that it's really clever, so I've chosen it. I did see Michael Clayton and it was a very good story, but I don't think it's going to win.
Animated Feature: I still have nightmares of the year I saw 2 of the animated films nominated for the year (Finding Nemo and Triplets of Belleville) and went with the underdog thinking it stood a chance (I think we all know which of these 2 is the underdog) and I lost it all. Literally if I'd won that category I would have taken the prize. So ever since then I've played this category nice and safe. Everyone thinks Ratatouille is going to win. Therefore I think Ratatouille is going to win. Does it deserve it? I don't know, I never saw it. But I need the points.
So, there they are, my predictions for the biggies. I will probably list the others just for posterity's sake at some point. And of course I'll report back on how well or poorly I do. I actually won some money last year. The same group of people do this every year, and for a while there was a particular couple who kept winning, and I don't really care for them much. A lot of my motivation to succeed is to prevent them from winning. All in all I'm pretty damn serious about this. Wish me luck.
The ballot isn't due until tomorrow, but I've made some good headway in my Oscar predictions for my annual pool. I reserve the right to change my mind, but here are my predictions for the biggies.
Best Picture: Well, this is tough, but I'm currently going with No Country for Old Men. To me it comes down to this, or There Will Be Blood. Truly a tough call because they are both brilliant. But I think that NCFOM is going to win.
Best Director: I'm going with Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country for Old Men.Another tough call, because PT Anderson directed TWBB and it's incredible. But these are the Coen Brothers we're talking about. I think their time has come.
Best Actor: Daniel Day Lewis. If he doesn't win I'll eat a bug.
Best Actress:Not as much of a lock as Best Actor, but I'll say Julie Christie.
Best Supporting Actor: Javier Bardem. Duh.
Best Supporting Actress: I really haven't a clue in this category, and the only nominee I've seen is Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton (and she turned in the best performance in the film, hands down). However, the buzz seems to be all about Cate Blanchett and since I'm in it to win it I'm choosing her.
Best Screenplay, Adapted: This is a tough one for me. I had to rely on some savvy internet snooping to see what critics and those in the know think. They think No Country for Old Men is the frontrunner, and I'm inclined to agree.
Best Screenplay, Original: I understand that Juno is really heading up this bunch, and I also understand that it's really clever, so I've chosen it. I did see Michael Clayton and it was a very good story, but I don't think it's going to win.
Animated Feature: I still have nightmares of the year I saw 2 of the animated films nominated for the year (Finding Nemo and Triplets of Belleville) and went with the underdog thinking it stood a chance (I think we all know which of these 2 is the underdog) and I lost it all. Literally if I'd won that category I would have taken the prize. So ever since then I've played this category nice and safe. Everyone thinks Ratatouille is going to win. Therefore I think Ratatouille is going to win. Does it deserve it? I don't know, I never saw it. But I need the points.
So, there they are, my predictions for the biggies. I will probably list the others just for posterity's sake at some point. And of course I'll report back on how well or poorly I do. I actually won some money last year. The same group of people do this every year, and for a while there was a particular couple who kept winning, and I don't really care for them much. A lot of my motivation to succeed is to prevent them from winning. All in all I'm pretty damn serious about this. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
And she's back!
Hola Amigos,
Did you miss me? Don't tell me. Just let me imagine that you did.
I was out for the last week for arthroscopic surgery. As luck would have it, there was indeed a tear in my meniscus. Sorry, I don't know if it's the lateral or medial, all I know is it hurts.
Surgery was OK. I wouldn't want to do it again, if that tells you anything. First off, due to the snowstorm the previous Wednesday, they had several extra surgeries crammed in that day (since dr. so and so is only there on Wednesdays, etc.). So I got there, got prepped, and sat for an hour and a half. I don't normally get uptight, but I was ready the minute I checked in, so that extra hour and a half just gave me time to get scared. So they finally wheel me into the operating room, which is just hellish. First of all, I hate being wheeled somewhere. Second of all, the room is huge, bright, noisy and freezing. Then there's all these people around. WTF were like 10 people doing in this room? And no, I'm not exaggerating. Then you have to move and shimmy to get on the table right. Then they're poking you and moving this and untying that and sticking this here. Then they strap on the mask and you have to breathe in really deeply, and my doctor was there poking around my knee and I had this horrible feeling that he was going to start working before I was alseep. Amigos, that's a terrible thought to have running through your mind.
Thankfully as I was thinking that very thing I was out. Didn't even see it coming. The next thing I know I'm coming out of anesthetic, and the people in the room were now somehow about 90 times more obnoxious than they were when I was wheeled in. My leg was tightly wrapped from foot to thigh, my knee felt like it was on fire, and they were hollering and removing tubes and poking me and giving me a pep talk and congratulating me on the good cough I had. I was under full anesthetic so my throat was sore, my mouth was drier than it's ever been, and my lips were puckered up like an asshole. Bless their hearts, I know they were taking very good care of me. But coming out of anesthetic is like entering fresh hell. How I wish it could be in a warm, dark room with soothing words, and a glass of cold water you can drink immediately.
So they get me into recovery and give me a glass of ice water, and then I start coughing and burping and all I can taste is the horrible anesthetic. Then I had to choke down some soda crackers so I could take the percoset on something other than an empty stomach. Then things starting looking up. :) The percoset was a Godsend for me, and took the edge off the pain. And from that point it's just been a matter of me resting and healing.
I'm feeling not too shabby today. I made a big mistake and walked in from the parking structure though. Not smart. But I'll get public safety to take me back when I leave this afternoon.
My doctor prescribed blood thinners for me for this week. Subcutaneous blood thinners. I have the deepest respect for anyone who has to inject themselves on a regular basis (heroin addicts and meth heads excluded). It didn't really hurt or anything. Maybe some stinging directly after injecting, and since it's a blood thinner there are bruises around the injection site that are a bit sore. But it is just unsavory. And this wasn't a small amount of blood thinner either. I'd say the vial was about the size of my pinky finger. The first day, even the second day was fine. But by the third or fourth day I was starting to dread it, and today it was all I could do to do it. Like I said, it wasn't particularly painful, but that doesn't mean it's fun.
Speaking of my doctor, and I don't know if you followed the link above to his bio (it's not necessary, I just thought it was funny) the picture does not do him justice, he's actually much better looking in person. Anyway, I just chuckled at the last sentence where it says he enjoys spending time with his wife. Not that I don't believe him, I just have this image of a woman bitching at him "You'd better put something about me in there." Or, maybe it just means he thinks highly of himself and if left to his own devices the sentence would actually read "...I enjoy spending time with my wife, just in case any of you ladies out there thought I was single. No dice." :) Anyway, it just made me laugh. He's actually a very nice guy and I don't mean to poke fun at him, it's just the way my mind works.
So here I am back in the real world. I have to say that being stuck at home wasn't so horrible. My dogs were so sweet, such good healers (their favorite thing is to make a Leslie sandwich while in bed). And I had lots of my favorite foods around (soup, cereal, popcorn), plenty to read (like Pride and Prejudice), plenty to watch (like Pride and Prejudice). And it was just nice to sit still and watch the world go by. And to not feel guilty about it. I was supposed to sit still and watch the world go by. There is a bit of a let down after something like this. But one can't make a living recovering from surgery, you know?
Did you miss me? Don't tell me. Just let me imagine that you did.
I was out for the last week for arthroscopic surgery. As luck would have it, there was indeed a tear in my meniscus. Sorry, I don't know if it's the lateral or medial, all I know is it hurts.
Surgery was OK. I wouldn't want to do it again, if that tells you anything. First off, due to the snowstorm the previous Wednesday, they had several extra surgeries crammed in that day (since dr. so and so is only there on Wednesdays, etc.). So I got there, got prepped, and sat for an hour and a half. I don't normally get uptight, but I was ready the minute I checked in, so that extra hour and a half just gave me time to get scared. So they finally wheel me into the operating room, which is just hellish. First of all, I hate being wheeled somewhere. Second of all, the room is huge, bright, noisy and freezing. Then there's all these people around. WTF were like 10 people doing in this room? And no, I'm not exaggerating. Then you have to move and shimmy to get on the table right. Then they're poking you and moving this and untying that and sticking this here. Then they strap on the mask and you have to breathe in really deeply, and my doctor was there poking around my knee and I had this horrible feeling that he was going to start working before I was alseep. Amigos, that's a terrible thought to have running through your mind.
Thankfully as I was thinking that very thing I was out. Didn't even see it coming. The next thing I know I'm coming out of anesthetic, and the people in the room were now somehow about 90 times more obnoxious than they were when I was wheeled in. My leg was tightly wrapped from foot to thigh, my knee felt like it was on fire, and they were hollering and removing tubes and poking me and giving me a pep talk and congratulating me on the good cough I had. I was under full anesthetic so my throat was sore, my mouth was drier than it's ever been, and my lips were puckered up like an asshole. Bless their hearts, I know they were taking very good care of me. But coming out of anesthetic is like entering fresh hell. How I wish it could be in a warm, dark room with soothing words, and a glass of cold water you can drink immediately.
So they get me into recovery and give me a glass of ice water, and then I start coughing and burping and all I can taste is the horrible anesthetic. Then I had to choke down some soda crackers so I could take the percoset on something other than an empty stomach. Then things starting looking up. :) The percoset was a Godsend for me, and took the edge off the pain. And from that point it's just been a matter of me resting and healing.
I'm feeling not too shabby today. I made a big mistake and walked in from the parking structure though. Not smart. But I'll get public safety to take me back when I leave this afternoon.
My doctor prescribed blood thinners for me for this week. Subcutaneous blood thinners. I have the deepest respect for anyone who has to inject themselves on a regular basis (heroin addicts and meth heads excluded). It didn't really hurt or anything. Maybe some stinging directly after injecting, and since it's a blood thinner there are bruises around the injection site that are a bit sore. But it is just unsavory. And this wasn't a small amount of blood thinner either. I'd say the vial was about the size of my pinky finger. The first day, even the second day was fine. But by the third or fourth day I was starting to dread it, and today it was all I could do to do it. Like I said, it wasn't particularly painful, but that doesn't mean it's fun.
Speaking of my doctor, and I don't know if you followed the link above to his bio (it's not necessary, I just thought it was funny) the picture does not do him justice, he's actually much better looking in person. Anyway, I just chuckled at the last sentence where it says he enjoys spending time with his wife. Not that I don't believe him, I just have this image of a woman bitching at him "You'd better put something about me in there." Or, maybe it just means he thinks highly of himself and if left to his own devices the sentence would actually read "...I enjoy spending time with my wife, just in case any of you ladies out there thought I was single. No dice." :) Anyway, it just made me laugh. He's actually a very nice guy and I don't mean to poke fun at him, it's just the way my mind works.
So here I am back in the real world. I have to say that being stuck at home wasn't so horrible. My dogs were so sweet, such good healers (their favorite thing is to make a Leslie sandwich while in bed). And I had lots of my favorite foods around (soup, cereal, popcorn), plenty to read (like Pride and Prejudice), plenty to watch (like Pride and Prejudice). And it was just nice to sit still and watch the world go by. And to not feel guilty about it. I was supposed to sit still and watch the world go by. There is a bit of a let down after something like this. But one can't make a living recovering from surgery, you know?
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Funny stuff that's happened to me
Hola Amigos,
I was thinking about something that happened to me when I was in college and I started laughing out loud. So I thought, what the heck, if my blog is going to be about something it may as well be about funny stuff that's happened to me (and I've had a lot of funny stuff happen to me; I'm a magnet).
My senior year in college I was taking a relatively blow-off philosophy class. The professor was nothing short of a legend on campus. Dr. Robb. He was a WWII veteran, spoke several languages, was a gourmet chef and was much loved by many. By the time I had him he'd had a couple of strokes and used to cry in class regularly. He was always emotional but he got moreso after the strokes. Anyway, he was a very gifted, enlightened man, but he wasn't a very difficult professor. And way back in the stone age when I was in college some profs would accept hand written papers. Not many, but some. Dr. Robb was one of those profs. And usually papers for him were not research or analytical or anything, but more casual.
On another note, at the time I was taking this class my roommate was dating a particularly unsavory person. I shudder even thinking about the guy, and what she saw in him I'll never know. But my friend Bill and I unfortunately had to spend a night with him and her in his trailer (he lived in a trailer park in Indiana) and it was one of the most horrible experiences of my life, and we knew much more about this man than we ever cared to. He was just scummy, and he was one of these people that had all these disgusting phrases for women's body parts that I think he thought were sexy (see, Laura, my roommate, would spare us no details).
Bottom line, Bill and I were quite contemptuous of this person and just thought he was disgusting.
So I had this paper that I'd written for Dr. Robb's class. Bill and I were both English majors and I gave it to him to proofread for me while we were at lunch. He was being silly and brought out his pencil and was making all these marks (fascetiously, like I'd made a ton of mistakes). He handed it back to me, and he made a 'correction' that was particularly funny. I'd written something along the lines of 'I was experiencing a lot of pain in my life' or something like that. Bill had crossed off 'life' and written 'love hole.' This was a favorite phrase of the slime ball my roommate was dating. It was so flipping funny!!! So I went through and read his edits and laughed my ass off and we just had a generally good time.
A couple weeks later we're at lunch again and I looked at Bill and it hit me. I'd not erased any of the 'edits' he'd made on my paper. I'd turned in a paper to my philosophy professor that read "I was experiencing a lot of pain in my love hole." Before I could even get the words out to tell him, I started laughing. And I couldn't stop. And then I started crying because I was laughing so hard. When I finally was able to get the words out, HE started laughing until he cried.
I decided to just let the chips fall where they may rather than approach Dr. Robb about it. When he handed the papers back he hadn't commented on it or anything. I'm assuming a couple things. Since he was older, maybe his eyesight wasn't so hot, and Bill had written this in pencil, and rather lightly at that, so maybe he missed it. Or he didn't read the paper. Or he read it and thought someone played a joke on him. Or he just thought I was a pervert. I really don't know. But I got the paper back, and the note Bill had written was still there.
Poor Dr. Robb. Sophomore year I took a class of his and handed in a paper that I'd titled "The Fuction of a Philosopher." When I'd gotten it back he'd pencilled in a tiny 'n' after the u. I think this was just a harbinger of what was to happen my senior year.
I was thinking about something that happened to me when I was in college and I started laughing out loud. So I thought, what the heck, if my blog is going to be about something it may as well be about funny stuff that's happened to me (and I've had a lot of funny stuff happen to me; I'm a magnet).
My senior year in college I was taking a relatively blow-off philosophy class. The professor was nothing short of a legend on campus. Dr. Robb. He was a WWII veteran, spoke several languages, was a gourmet chef and was much loved by many. By the time I had him he'd had a couple of strokes and used to cry in class regularly. He was always emotional but he got moreso after the strokes. Anyway, he was a very gifted, enlightened man, but he wasn't a very difficult professor. And way back in the stone age when I was in college some profs would accept hand written papers. Not many, but some. Dr. Robb was one of those profs. And usually papers for him were not research or analytical or anything, but more casual.
On another note, at the time I was taking this class my roommate was dating a particularly unsavory person. I shudder even thinking about the guy, and what she saw in him I'll never know. But my friend Bill and I unfortunately had to spend a night with him and her in his trailer (he lived in a trailer park in Indiana) and it was one of the most horrible experiences of my life, and we knew much more about this man than we ever cared to. He was just scummy, and he was one of these people that had all these disgusting phrases for women's body parts that I think he thought were sexy (see, Laura, my roommate, would spare us no details).
Bottom line, Bill and I were quite contemptuous of this person and just thought he was disgusting.
So I had this paper that I'd written for Dr. Robb's class. Bill and I were both English majors and I gave it to him to proofread for me while we were at lunch. He was being silly and brought out his pencil and was making all these marks (fascetiously, like I'd made a ton of mistakes). He handed it back to me, and he made a 'correction' that was particularly funny. I'd written something along the lines of 'I was experiencing a lot of pain in my life' or something like that. Bill had crossed off 'life' and written 'love hole.' This was a favorite phrase of the slime ball my roommate was dating. It was so flipping funny!!! So I went through and read his edits and laughed my ass off and we just had a generally good time.
A couple weeks later we're at lunch again and I looked at Bill and it hit me. I'd not erased any of the 'edits' he'd made on my paper. I'd turned in a paper to my philosophy professor that read "I was experiencing a lot of pain in my love hole." Before I could even get the words out to tell him, I started laughing. And I couldn't stop. And then I started crying because I was laughing so hard. When I finally was able to get the words out, HE started laughing until he cried.
I decided to just let the chips fall where they may rather than approach Dr. Robb about it. When he handed the papers back he hadn't commented on it or anything. I'm assuming a couple things. Since he was older, maybe his eyesight wasn't so hot, and Bill had written this in pencil, and rather lightly at that, so maybe he missed it. Or he didn't read the paper. Or he read it and thought someone played a joke on him. Or he just thought I was a pervert. I really don't know. But I got the paper back, and the note Bill had written was still there.
Poor Dr. Robb. Sophomore year I took a class of his and handed in a paper that I'd titled "The Fuction of a Philosopher." When I'd gotten it back he'd pencilled in a tiny 'n' after the u. I think this was just a harbinger of what was to happen my senior year.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Short week
Hola Amigos,
So on Wednesday I go in for arthroscopic surgery on my knee. I'm not too worked up about it. I get to take off 3 days of work, too, so that's nice. The doc still isn't 100% what he's going to find in there, so I'm hoping that it's relatively simple. I do feel confident about having it done. Being the stubborn person that I am, I actually thought at certain points this weekend that it wasn't that bad and that maybe the cortisone would take care of it. But then this morning I was tooling around and walking in to work and I knew I'd been kidding myself. The problem is still there, it hurts like bugger, and I can't take the stairs other than one at a time. That's no way to be!
My mother is taking me in for the surgery, where she'll wait and then take me back home. This is getting to be a bit of a problem, because she's so worried that it's going to snow. I can't fault her, and the woman is almost 76 years old and she has every right to tell me to go to hell. Is this is where people's spouses jump in and take them? I mean, I'm 42, and I have to have my mom take me to surgery? Doesn't that seem weird? Anyway, she wants me to have a back up so I guess I'll call one of my brothers. That's almost more depressing than having my mother take me.
Depressing. Hm... Am I depressed? I don't know if I am, but I'm in a mood, that's for damn sure. I was going to come in to work this weekend, since I'll be out Weds-Friday and I thought it might be nice to catch up. But it was so flipping cold yesterday I just didn't feel like it. So I figured I'd kick out the jams today, but uhhh...that's not working so much. I'm sort of not doing much of anything. And now I'm blogging on top of that. And I'm getting surlier by the minute.
I had an OK weekend. Got some stuff done around the house, and I watched a couple movies. One was Fitzcarraldo. It's a Werner Herzog movie about a man who wants to move a steamboat over a mountain in Peru. Then I watched Burden of Dreams, which is a documentary about the making of Fitzcarraldo, and is essentially about a filmmaker who wants to move a steamboat over a mountain in Peru. I'm fascinated by Werner Herzog, and sort of fascinated/scared by Klaus Kinski (his frequent collaborator) so this was extra interesting. I also watched Female Trouble, which is a John Waters movie. I have no idea why I like it so much, but it just cracks me up. Divine is in it, and s/he's wonderful. My favorite part is the Christmas morning scene, she's been asking her parents for a pair of cha-cha heels, but they buy her loafers, and she commences to beat them up and throws the Christmas tree on her mother. I like it more than Pink Flamingos (which is sort of relative, because I can't say I really LIKE Pink Flamingos, it's more like a train wreck). I also went to see There Will Be Blood, again. Totally worth it! I can't remember the last time I saw a movie twice in the theaters, but I just had to see it again. For a 2 1/2 hour movie, it sure doesn't seem long.
I'd better snap out of it and get some work done here.
So on Wednesday I go in for arthroscopic surgery on my knee. I'm not too worked up about it. I get to take off 3 days of work, too, so that's nice. The doc still isn't 100% what he's going to find in there, so I'm hoping that it's relatively simple. I do feel confident about having it done. Being the stubborn person that I am, I actually thought at certain points this weekend that it wasn't that bad and that maybe the cortisone would take care of it. But then this morning I was tooling around and walking in to work and I knew I'd been kidding myself. The problem is still there, it hurts like bugger, and I can't take the stairs other than one at a time. That's no way to be!
My mother is taking me in for the surgery, where she'll wait and then take me back home. This is getting to be a bit of a problem, because she's so worried that it's going to snow. I can't fault her, and the woman is almost 76 years old and she has every right to tell me to go to hell. Is this is where people's spouses jump in and take them? I mean, I'm 42, and I have to have my mom take me to surgery? Doesn't that seem weird? Anyway, she wants me to have a back up so I guess I'll call one of my brothers. That's almost more depressing than having my mother take me.
Depressing. Hm... Am I depressed? I don't know if I am, but I'm in a mood, that's for damn sure. I was going to come in to work this weekend, since I'll be out Weds-Friday and I thought it might be nice to catch up. But it was so flipping cold yesterday I just didn't feel like it. So I figured I'd kick out the jams today, but uhhh...that's not working so much. I'm sort of not doing much of anything. And now I'm blogging on top of that. And I'm getting surlier by the minute.
I had an OK weekend. Got some stuff done around the house, and I watched a couple movies. One was Fitzcarraldo. It's a Werner Herzog movie about a man who wants to move a steamboat over a mountain in Peru. Then I watched Burden of Dreams, which is a documentary about the making of Fitzcarraldo, and is essentially about a filmmaker who wants to move a steamboat over a mountain in Peru. I'm fascinated by Werner Herzog, and sort of fascinated/scared by Klaus Kinski (his frequent collaborator) so this was extra interesting. I also watched Female Trouble, which is a John Waters movie. I have no idea why I like it so much, but it just cracks me up. Divine is in it, and s/he's wonderful. My favorite part is the Christmas morning scene, she's been asking her parents for a pair of cha-cha heels, but they buy her loafers, and she commences to beat them up and throws the Christmas tree on her mother. I like it more than Pink Flamingos (which is sort of relative, because I can't say I really LIKE Pink Flamingos, it's more like a train wreck). I also went to see There Will Be Blood, again. Totally worth it! I can't remember the last time I saw a movie twice in the theaters, but I just had to see it again. For a 2 1/2 hour movie, it sure doesn't seem long.
I'd better snap out of it and get some work done here.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Did I...?
Did you ever have one of those days where you just feel off? Not sick. Just that something's not quite right. That's how I feel today.
First off, my hair is off doing its own thing today. It doesn't feel right. Like I can feel it just sitting on my head looking stupid. And I'm thinking to myself, did I forget to wash my hair? And then I thought, did I forget to shower? But I thought some more, really hard, and of COURSE I washed my hair, and I remembered to shower (why else did I blowdry my hair this morning) and my routine wasn't terribly different than any other day.
Then there's my face. My face feels icky. My face feels like I didn't wash it. But I did. It feels greasy and gross (but it's not, I've checked).
Even the top I'm wearing is oppressive today. I wear this thing a lot, it's a nice Eddie Bauer fleece turtleneck. Normal, never bothered me before. But today it's my enemy, attacking me. I can't breathe in it. I itch everywhere. I can feel that I'm wearing it. You're not supposed to FEEL your damn clothes closing in on you, you know? Like there's tiny hairs sticking me all over. This fricking thing might as well be worsted wool for God's sake, or burlap even.
Oh, and the turtleneck part...I can't get it any further away from me then I have it than cutting the damn collar off, and I can STILL feel it just bearing down on me...
This is one of those days that I'll just put sweatpants on soon as I get home and just enjoy being comfortable.
You know, I LOOK comfortable. You'd never know. And maybe even my hair doesn't look stupid to someone else. But if you only knew the struggle I have just keeping my clothes on today!!!!
First off, my hair is off doing its own thing today. It doesn't feel right. Like I can feel it just sitting on my head looking stupid. And I'm thinking to myself, did I forget to wash my hair? And then I thought, did I forget to shower? But I thought some more, really hard, and of COURSE I washed my hair, and I remembered to shower (why else did I blowdry my hair this morning) and my routine wasn't terribly different than any other day.
Then there's my face. My face feels icky. My face feels like I didn't wash it. But I did. It feels greasy and gross (but it's not, I've checked).
Even the top I'm wearing is oppressive today. I wear this thing a lot, it's a nice Eddie Bauer fleece turtleneck. Normal, never bothered me before. But today it's my enemy, attacking me. I can't breathe in it. I itch everywhere. I can feel that I'm wearing it. You're not supposed to FEEL your damn clothes closing in on you, you know? Like there's tiny hairs sticking me all over. This fricking thing might as well be worsted wool for God's sake, or burlap even.
Oh, and the turtleneck part...I can't get it any further away from me then I have it than cutting the damn collar off, and I can STILL feel it just bearing down on me...
This is one of those days that I'll just put sweatpants on soon as I get home and just enjoy being comfortable.
You know, I LOOK comfortable. You'd never know. And maybe even my hair doesn't look stupid to someone else. But if you only knew the struggle I have just keeping my clothes on today!!!!
Monday, February 4, 2008
Hmm...
I've been reading some of my past postings and they're a little dull. Sorry amigos, I think my problem is that I don't have a defining idea, you know? It's just random thoughts about me. If this were a diary or something that might be OK, but since there's a possibility that someone may read it, I should punch it up a little, don't you think?
So, let's see if I'm opinionated about something.
My office sort of chaps me. I'm in a huge room. It has one door and I'm the farthest from it, which essentially means that in a fire I'm a goner. In my old office there was a back door near me, and if things started to bug me, or if I heard my boss rustling about, I'd just quietly get up and leave. But I can't do that now. So when my boss leaves her office I am full witness to the long trek from her office back to my desk, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it but sit there and take it.
There are 6 of us in this room. I used to share a lively room with around 14 or 15 people. So this is much quieter, which for the most part is fine, but I have one particular coworker with elephant ears so gone are the days when I could make a doctor's appointment when she is in the room. Or say anything at all, frankly. This person also cuts her nails at her desk.
I know I'm breaching etiquette (aren't I?) by discussing this here, but I spend almost 40 hours of my life in this room every week and it has left an indelible mark on me.
One person in my office has become hypersensitive to perfumes and colognes. Not that I mind not wearing it, but sometimes you just want to put a little dab on, you know? But you can't. She ends up involving my boss and moving everything she's working on into another room.
There are a couple people who are extra chummy and that just causes all kinds of nonsense, since they are very hypercritical. All I hear all day long is "Why did she do it that way?" "This makes no sense." "You know I called him and he never got back to me" and on and on. And I'm not excluded from these comments. I'm not sure if that's just rudeness or stupidity or what. I'm not shy about calling them on the carpet about it, which has thankfully kept it at bay (at least while I'm in the room).
I have to face it. I'm dealing with certain people who have room temperature IQs.
Now don't go calling me bitchy or anything. It's a very rare thing that I actually give myself a compliment, but I think you'd agree that I do have a brain, right? Well, here's an example of the room temperature IQ. During a secret santa we had years ago we were asked to include our favorite candy as a gift idea. This person's favorite candy, the candy she eats every day because she's addicted to chocolate, was listed as "Recess Peanut Butter Cups." So, is this part of a school lunch program?
We receive a journal here at work that's called "Conscience" as in "I have a conscience so I don't go around killing people." In all the years I've known this person she's never pronounced it any way other than "con-SCI-ence." Like the word science with the word con in front of it.
I often hear the following: "I don't know why we have all these old books here." Um...OK. We work at a library. A research library. At an institute of higher learning. We are a repository of knowledge in all different formats: print, film, digital.
Oh, and as of last week someone here had no idea who was running for president. Not a clue. I'm not even sure they know who the CURRENT president is (hey, ignorance is bliss, no?).
Sometimes when I'm here I feel so alone. I used to be a part of a lively engaging department, but now I barely say anything to anyone. I'm not rude, I just don't want to be bothered. I can't say anything without someone listening in. I feel self conscious if I put on hand lotion because it might disturb the person near me. I am constantly hearing negative, critical comments from bitter stupid people.
Yeah, some days, it gets to me.
So, let's see if I'm opinionated about something.
My office sort of chaps me. I'm in a huge room. It has one door and I'm the farthest from it, which essentially means that in a fire I'm a goner. In my old office there was a back door near me, and if things started to bug me, or if I heard my boss rustling about, I'd just quietly get up and leave. But I can't do that now. So when my boss leaves her office I am full witness to the long trek from her office back to my desk, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it but sit there and take it.
There are 6 of us in this room. I used to share a lively room with around 14 or 15 people. So this is much quieter, which for the most part is fine, but I have one particular coworker with elephant ears so gone are the days when I could make a doctor's appointment when she is in the room. Or say anything at all, frankly. This person also cuts her nails at her desk.
I know I'm breaching etiquette (aren't I?) by discussing this here, but I spend almost 40 hours of my life in this room every week and it has left an indelible mark on me.
One person in my office has become hypersensitive to perfumes and colognes. Not that I mind not wearing it, but sometimes you just want to put a little dab on, you know? But you can't. She ends up involving my boss and moving everything she's working on into another room.
There are a couple people who are extra chummy and that just causes all kinds of nonsense, since they are very hypercritical. All I hear all day long is "Why did she do it that way?" "This makes no sense." "You know I called him and he never got back to me" and on and on. And I'm not excluded from these comments. I'm not sure if that's just rudeness or stupidity or what. I'm not shy about calling them on the carpet about it, which has thankfully kept it at bay (at least while I'm in the room).
I have to face it. I'm dealing with certain people who have room temperature IQs.
Now don't go calling me bitchy or anything. It's a very rare thing that I actually give myself a compliment, but I think you'd agree that I do have a brain, right? Well, here's an example of the room temperature IQ. During a secret santa we had years ago we were asked to include our favorite candy as a gift idea. This person's favorite candy, the candy she eats every day because she's addicted to chocolate, was listed as "Recess Peanut Butter Cups." So, is this part of a school lunch program?
We receive a journal here at work that's called "Conscience" as in "I have a conscience so I don't go around killing people." In all the years I've known this person she's never pronounced it any way other than "con-SCI-ence." Like the word science with the word con in front of it.
I often hear the following: "I don't know why we have all these old books here." Um...OK. We work at a library. A research library. At an institute of higher learning. We are a repository of knowledge in all different formats: print, film, digital.
Oh, and as of last week someone here had no idea who was running for president. Not a clue. I'm not even sure they know who the CURRENT president is (hey, ignorance is bliss, no?).
Sometimes when I'm here I feel so alone. I used to be a part of a lively engaging department, but now I barely say anything to anyone. I'm not rude, I just don't want to be bothered. I can't say anything without someone listening in. I feel self conscious if I put on hand lotion because it might disturb the person near me. I am constantly hearing negative, critical comments from bitter stupid people.
Yeah, some days, it gets to me.
Movies and such
I went to see Michael Clayton yesterday. I hadn't intended to because my weekend was already busy. But I changed my mind. It was pretty good actually. Not all good, but pretty good. George Clooney? Good. Very good.
So now, if I wish to see all the nominated movies (which I sometimes do but never on purpose) I'd need to see Juno and Atonement. I don't have much desire to see Atonement. I read the book and I wasn't a fan (which was not the popular vote in my book club, but there was just something about it that kept me from even finishing). I know the story enough to know I don't want to see it on the big screen, Keira Knightley bugs me, and I'm just not up for a romance. Juno I was very interested in seeing. Now I'm only sort of interested in seeing. I think maybe the problem is I saw No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood already, and those movies are so good that it's like, why bother? And they're more my style of movie. Dark, brooding, interesting odd characters. And I adore the Coen brothers and PT Anderson. So it's sort of a tough call. Juno is playing very near my house, so maybe I'll just go. It also has that Michael Cera, who knocked my socks off in Arrested Development. If you haven't seen that show, you should. I have all the DVDs and I absolutely love it. It's just so clever. And he was one of my favorite parts about the entire series.
I also watched a DVD I got from Netflix. It was the Mystery Science Theater version of Giant Spider Invasion (a 1975 movie filmed entirely in Wisconsin!) and that had me cracking up. It had Alan "The Skipper" Hale in it. He was the sheriff and they kept showing him fielding phone calls, so they started chiming in as he'd answer the phone. So the phone rings, he picks it up and instead of saying "hello" Crow says "Pork vacuum!" or "Doughy has-been!" Probably doesn't translate well here, but cripes that's some funny stuff. I love that whole concept. They're so clever and quick.
My favorite MST line ever came from Space Travellers. I laughed about it for days. In the movie Richard Crenna, Gene Hackman and James Franciscus are stranded in space. The only way they'll have enough oxygen to get back to earth is if they have only 2 passengers, not 3. So Houston gives them that message, and they'll have to decide for themselves who gets the boot. So Crow says "Well, I vote for old zeppelin-lungs Hackman." Oh my God, it still makes me laugh out loud.
Anyway, in spite of being super busy, I was able to get in some entertainment too.
Saturday I helped out at the Green Acres booth at the Pet Expo. I tell you, that thing just gets bigger and bigger every year. But it's always fun, even though you sit there all day nodding and smiling and listening to the same stories. People are so sweet, you know? They just want to share. And the sentiment is usually "Boxers are the greatest dogs" and it's not like I'd argue with them.
At this event there are just so many people and so many dogs, and so many places who are out there doing animal rescue (none as well as GABR, and I'm not just saying that because my GABR friends might be reading; I firmly believe that this group is one of, if not the best run in the area and beyond). It just warms my heart. And oh there were some beautiful dogs. As I was leaving the place was really clearing out fast, and a woman walked past me with the hugest Alaskan Malamute I have ever seen. This thing was the size of a pony. I also paid a couple bucks at the Boston terrier kissing booth. That brought back memories. My little Boston was the kissiest little thing and I loved her all to pieces.
I continued this dog-theme by watching copious amounts of the puppy bowl yesterday. I find it so enchanting that I'll often forget to look at the super bowl. We went to my mom's after the movie to ostensibly watch the game, but ended up watching puppies. And we also watched the entire kitty half time show (take that Tom Petty--and I like Tom Petty) because it was so adorable. That animal planet knows what the heck they're doing. I read an article in the Times and I guess that a lof of, if not the majority of the pups are rescue dogs of one type or another. That just warms my heart. And then of course they have to keep playing that Pedigree commercial with David Duchovny voicing over that sweet dog in the kennel and it makes me cry. How I wish I could help them all, but it's just not possible. Can't be done.
Then next week is the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. I do love watching that. I'm not about getting dogs from breeders or anything, but being in rescue I do like to know what I can about different breeds, temperaments, trends. All dogs are beautiful, and here you get to see the most stunning dogs.
Last year I did a pool for the show. It was actually quite fun. We (me and my friend John) had to be pretty mathematical about it. I mean, there are 7 groups, and odd numbers of dogs inside each group, and you want everyone to have the same number of picks of course, so we had to do some math. By we I mean John. but he figured it out and it was quite fun. I won $5 myself. I forget what the final payoff was.
Seriously, people around here will gamble on anything. Football, NCAA basketball championships, Project Runway, Amazing Race. Crazy!
OK, I've gone off on a tangent again so I'll wrap this up.
So now, if I wish to see all the nominated movies (which I sometimes do but never on purpose) I'd need to see Juno and Atonement. I don't have much desire to see Atonement. I read the book and I wasn't a fan (which was not the popular vote in my book club, but there was just something about it that kept me from even finishing). I know the story enough to know I don't want to see it on the big screen, Keira Knightley bugs me, and I'm just not up for a romance. Juno I was very interested in seeing. Now I'm only sort of interested in seeing. I think maybe the problem is I saw No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood already, and those movies are so good that it's like, why bother? And they're more my style of movie. Dark, brooding, interesting odd characters. And I adore the Coen brothers and PT Anderson. So it's sort of a tough call. Juno is playing very near my house, so maybe I'll just go. It also has that Michael Cera, who knocked my socks off in Arrested Development. If you haven't seen that show, you should. I have all the DVDs and I absolutely love it. It's just so clever. And he was one of my favorite parts about the entire series.
I also watched a DVD I got from Netflix. It was the Mystery Science Theater version of Giant Spider Invasion (a 1975 movie filmed entirely in Wisconsin!) and that had me cracking up. It had Alan "The Skipper" Hale in it. He was the sheriff and they kept showing him fielding phone calls, so they started chiming in as he'd answer the phone. So the phone rings, he picks it up and instead of saying "hello" Crow says "Pork vacuum!" or "Doughy has-been!" Probably doesn't translate well here, but cripes that's some funny stuff. I love that whole concept. They're so clever and quick.
My favorite MST line ever came from Space Travellers. I laughed about it for days. In the movie Richard Crenna, Gene Hackman and James Franciscus are stranded in space. The only way they'll have enough oxygen to get back to earth is if they have only 2 passengers, not 3. So Houston gives them that message, and they'll have to decide for themselves who gets the boot. So Crow says "Well, I vote for old zeppelin-lungs Hackman." Oh my God, it still makes me laugh out loud.
Anyway, in spite of being super busy, I was able to get in some entertainment too.
Saturday I helped out at the Green Acres booth at the Pet Expo. I tell you, that thing just gets bigger and bigger every year. But it's always fun, even though you sit there all day nodding and smiling and listening to the same stories. People are so sweet, you know? They just want to share. And the sentiment is usually "Boxers are the greatest dogs" and it's not like I'd argue with them.
At this event there are just so many people and so many dogs, and so many places who are out there doing animal rescue (none as well as GABR, and I'm not just saying that because my GABR friends might be reading; I firmly believe that this group is one of, if not the best run in the area and beyond). It just warms my heart. And oh there were some beautiful dogs. As I was leaving the place was really clearing out fast, and a woman walked past me with the hugest Alaskan Malamute I have ever seen. This thing was the size of a pony. I also paid a couple bucks at the Boston terrier kissing booth. That brought back memories. My little Boston was the kissiest little thing and I loved her all to pieces.
I continued this dog-theme by watching copious amounts of the puppy bowl yesterday. I find it so enchanting that I'll often forget to look at the super bowl. We went to my mom's after the movie to ostensibly watch the game, but ended up watching puppies. And we also watched the entire kitty half time show (take that Tom Petty--and I like Tom Petty) because it was so adorable. That animal planet knows what the heck they're doing. I read an article in the Times and I guess that a lof of, if not the majority of the pups are rescue dogs of one type or another. That just warms my heart. And then of course they have to keep playing that Pedigree commercial with David Duchovny voicing over that sweet dog in the kennel and it makes me cry. How I wish I could help them all, but it's just not possible. Can't be done.
Then next week is the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. I do love watching that. I'm not about getting dogs from breeders or anything, but being in rescue I do like to know what I can about different breeds, temperaments, trends. All dogs are beautiful, and here you get to see the most stunning dogs.
Last year I did a pool for the show. It was actually quite fun. We (me and my friend John) had to be pretty mathematical about it. I mean, there are 7 groups, and odd numbers of dogs inside each group, and you want everyone to have the same number of picks of course, so we had to do some math. By we I mean John. but he figured it out and it was quite fun. I won $5 myself. I forget what the final payoff was.
Seriously, people around here will gamble on anything. Football, NCAA basketball championships, Project Runway, Amazing Race. Crazy!
OK, I've gone off on a tangent again so I'll wrap this up.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Worst pain EVER
Hola Amigos,
Maybe not the worst, actually, but it was pretty damn bad. It ranks right up there.
The cortisone shot hurt like a bugger, much more than i expected. My friend T had gotten a cortisone shot in her shoulder, and she told me it was pretty painful. So I mentioned that to my doctor before getting the shot. He said, "The shoulder is typically less painful than the knee." Not what I wanted to hear...That was my first hint that things were not quite going my way. So first he numbed the knee up a bit which wasn't too bad and it worked quickly. So then he starts with the injection. First bit seems fine, and then suddenly it felt like he'd inserted a flaming screwdriver in the side of my knee and was moving the bones around from the inside. That's the only way i can describe it. It just radiated, like he'd hit a nerve. I actually cried out, and grabbed the poor guy's lab coat. He ended up making some adjustments and finished the shot, but I tell you, that was a rough few minutes. I felt sort of bad about crying out. I don't know, there are lots of reasons behind that. My main concern is that if people are waiting to get to see him, they don't want to hear that. I'm sure he was OK with it, and the assistant. I didn't want to be a wuss either. But I guess I am. Part of that is that as I've gotten older I've become much more open with my physicians, so there's a barrier that used to be there that isn't anymore, for better or worse. And I think I'm probably much less tolerant of pain than I used to be!
Anyway, it's over and I'll know soon if it works. If it does, it means that I didn't tear my meniscus. If it doesn't, then it's surgery for me!
So i didn't go back to work afterward. He suggested I just take it easy the rest of the afternoon, so I called my boss and told her all about it. I got home and took the dogs out while I got the mail. Stella crapped and I didn't pick it up right away, just because I was hurting and I didn't have a bag. I saw my tenant a little while later cursing about it (he didn't know I saw him). I felt kind of bad. I mean, it's a lot of crap to keep up with and I know I'm not perfect about it, so I have to cut the guy some slack for putting up with it. Of course, he only came here to get his mail and still hasn't opened up the end of the driveway or done the front walk, and if he doesn't come back then I can't reach him and I'll end up doing it myself tomorrow. I know, second time today I discussed this. I'll drop it. It's just chapping me right now.
I just finished watching Jaws. I was 10 years old when it came out and I remember it so well. Things at the movies were quite a bit different back then. There were no dvds or videos or cable, and it could be a very long time before a movie showed up on tv (there were only 3 networks, you see, and getting movies was expensive to them no doubt) so the theater was the place to be. It opened and it was all anyone was talking about. And back then they'd tell you how long a movie had been at a particular theater (15th straight week! it would say, or held over). And this is where blockbusters came from, too. I'll never forget, a bunch of us went. It was me and a neighbor friend of mine, my sister and a few of her friends. I'm pretty sure my folks took us, dropped the whole bunch of us off at the theater. I don't remember the theater, but I remember the movie. It was so thrilling to be there, to be seeing it! And it was so, so scary. You could feel the tension in the theater from the get go. Some of those scares pack a wallop you know??? People were screaming, our friend Suzy essentially cowered on the floor of the theater, there was popcorn flying, people leaving. It was a free for all. And it's no wonder. I was just a little kid so I just saw it as super scary. But it's just brilliantly made, everything about it. It's 33 years old and it's aged perfectly. The music is great, the humor, the terror, all of it. And think about this. Spielberg was what, 24? HOW does a 24 year old do that?
Anyway, I'm doubly excited because Turner Classic Movies has started their road to the Oscars thing, where I believe they're showing all award winners. That doesn't necessarily mean they'll all be good. I'm sure some really crappy movies have won awards for, I don't know, sound editing.
"Jeez, that movie was a piece of crap."
"Yeah, but it sounded great."
You see, I'm just a movie girl. Love them, always have. So anyway, Jaws was my official kick off to the TCM oscars bonanza, and I couldn't be happier.
I'm part of an Oscar pool at work. I will post my choices here, and we'll see how well I do compared to the academy. I'm really relishing the fact that there may not be much of a ceremony. I'm so tired of those bloated ceremonies. Why does it have to be that the presenters have to walk that ridiculous length to get to the podium? that probably adds hours! I always wanted someone to just get up there and read them off. I know, it's tradition, blah blah, and I always end up watching it anyway (I've tried, I can't resist; I don't necessarily leave it on for all the crap, but I do see most of it). but come on, all i really want to know is who the eff won!
More oscar stuff to come people. :)
Maybe not the worst, actually, but it was pretty damn bad. It ranks right up there.
The cortisone shot hurt like a bugger, much more than i expected. My friend T had gotten a cortisone shot in her shoulder, and she told me it was pretty painful. So I mentioned that to my doctor before getting the shot. He said, "The shoulder is typically less painful than the knee." Not what I wanted to hear...That was my first hint that things were not quite going my way. So first he numbed the knee up a bit which wasn't too bad and it worked quickly. So then he starts with the injection. First bit seems fine, and then suddenly it felt like he'd inserted a flaming screwdriver in the side of my knee and was moving the bones around from the inside. That's the only way i can describe it. It just radiated, like he'd hit a nerve. I actually cried out, and grabbed the poor guy's lab coat. He ended up making some adjustments and finished the shot, but I tell you, that was a rough few minutes. I felt sort of bad about crying out. I don't know, there are lots of reasons behind that. My main concern is that if people are waiting to get to see him, they don't want to hear that. I'm sure he was OK with it, and the assistant. I didn't want to be a wuss either. But I guess I am. Part of that is that as I've gotten older I've become much more open with my physicians, so there's a barrier that used to be there that isn't anymore, for better or worse. And I think I'm probably much less tolerant of pain than I used to be!
Anyway, it's over and I'll know soon if it works. If it does, it means that I didn't tear my meniscus. If it doesn't, then it's surgery for me!
So i didn't go back to work afterward. He suggested I just take it easy the rest of the afternoon, so I called my boss and told her all about it. I got home and took the dogs out while I got the mail. Stella crapped and I didn't pick it up right away, just because I was hurting and I didn't have a bag. I saw my tenant a little while later cursing about it (he didn't know I saw him). I felt kind of bad. I mean, it's a lot of crap to keep up with and I know I'm not perfect about it, so I have to cut the guy some slack for putting up with it. Of course, he only came here to get his mail and still hasn't opened up the end of the driveway or done the front walk, and if he doesn't come back then I can't reach him and I'll end up doing it myself tomorrow. I know, second time today I discussed this. I'll drop it. It's just chapping me right now.
I just finished watching Jaws. I was 10 years old when it came out and I remember it so well. Things at the movies were quite a bit different back then. There were no dvds or videos or cable, and it could be a very long time before a movie showed up on tv (there were only 3 networks, you see, and getting movies was expensive to them no doubt) so the theater was the place to be. It opened and it was all anyone was talking about. And back then they'd tell you how long a movie had been at a particular theater (15th straight week! it would say, or held over). And this is where blockbusters came from, too. I'll never forget, a bunch of us went. It was me and a neighbor friend of mine, my sister and a few of her friends. I'm pretty sure my folks took us, dropped the whole bunch of us off at the theater. I don't remember the theater, but I remember the movie. It was so thrilling to be there, to be seeing it! And it was so, so scary. You could feel the tension in the theater from the get go. Some of those scares pack a wallop you know??? People were screaming, our friend Suzy essentially cowered on the floor of the theater, there was popcorn flying, people leaving. It was a free for all. And it's no wonder. I was just a little kid so I just saw it as super scary. But it's just brilliantly made, everything about it. It's 33 years old and it's aged perfectly. The music is great, the humor, the terror, all of it. And think about this. Spielberg was what, 24? HOW does a 24 year old do that?
Anyway, I'm doubly excited because Turner Classic Movies has started their road to the Oscars thing, where I believe they're showing all award winners. That doesn't necessarily mean they'll all be good. I'm sure some really crappy movies have won awards for, I don't know, sound editing.
"Jeez, that movie was a piece of crap."
"Yeah, but it sounded great."
You see, I'm just a movie girl. Love them, always have. So anyway, Jaws was my official kick off to the TCM oscars bonanza, and I couldn't be happier.
I'm part of an Oscar pool at work. I will post my choices here, and we'll see how well I do compared to the academy. I'm really relishing the fact that there may not be much of a ceremony. I'm so tired of those bloated ceremonies. Why does it have to be that the presenters have to walk that ridiculous length to get to the podium? that probably adds hours! I always wanted someone to just get up there and read them off. I know, it's tradition, blah blah, and I always end up watching it anyway (I've tried, I can't resist; I don't necessarily leave it on for all the crap, but I do see most of it). but come on, all i really want to know is who the eff won!
More oscar stuff to come people. :)
This and that
Well amigos, I'd say the new litterboxes were somewhat successful at keeping my dogs from eating cat poop. They did get in there, it appears that they'll take the nearest turd, but if it's toward the back of the box they'll leave it. I have to enjoy these small victories. I added the flaps today. Somehow I think that won't phase the dogs one bit if they know there's a turd in there.
My doctor wants to try a cortisone shot, so I'll be going to see him this afternoon. We're keeping the surgery on the schedule in case it doesn't work.
I had a work-up while at the doctor the other day, and all things considered I'm pretty darned healthy. I have to say my body fights hard to deal with all the crap I give it, and I really should treat it with some respect. I don't know, I sort of lost my good eating mojo these last few months. The bit with Jeff in October, then this injury, then the holidays, then vacation. I know, I could make excuses for all eternity. I just need to get a handle on things, because I know my body can't hold out forever.
Not much else to report. It's snowing like a bugger. My tenant, who is a landscaper in the summer and who removes snow in the winter left again before clearing anything out. He is getting paid for this by me, through a consideration in his rent. But I'm pretty sure I'm getting a half-assed version of what he does for his other customers. I've had to open up my own driveway numerous times, for some reason he doesn't shovel the walk up to my front door, and he never shovels my steps or stoop (that's pretty minor, but jeez, you're already out there). Oh, and he does that thing I just hate where you shovel the walk but only the width of the shovel. You know, up one way and that's it, as opposed to up one way and down the other. I mean, come on, you made the first sweep...just do it once more going the other way.
Don't worry amigos, I will say something to him. I'm not afraid of that. It just ticks me a bit because it's something we've had to discuss before. Gets tiresome, you know?
You know what's a good movie? American History X, that's a good movie. I'm tired today because I stayed up last night watching it. Did I mention I went to see There Will Be Blood? Well, I did, and as far as I'm concerned the rest of the oscar nominated actors should just stay home oscar night because DDL has it all sewed up. He was brilliant! I do like that PT Anderson too. The only movie of his I haven't seen is Punch Drunk Love. I'm sorry, I just have a thing with Adam Sandler...don't like him. Not one bit.
My doctor wants to try a cortisone shot, so I'll be going to see him this afternoon. We're keeping the surgery on the schedule in case it doesn't work.
I had a work-up while at the doctor the other day, and all things considered I'm pretty darned healthy. I have to say my body fights hard to deal with all the crap I give it, and I really should treat it with some respect. I don't know, I sort of lost my good eating mojo these last few months. The bit with Jeff in October, then this injury, then the holidays, then vacation. I know, I could make excuses for all eternity. I just need to get a handle on things, because I know my body can't hold out forever.
Not much else to report. It's snowing like a bugger. My tenant, who is a landscaper in the summer and who removes snow in the winter left again before clearing anything out. He is getting paid for this by me, through a consideration in his rent. But I'm pretty sure I'm getting a half-assed version of what he does for his other customers. I've had to open up my own driveway numerous times, for some reason he doesn't shovel the walk up to my front door, and he never shovels my steps or stoop (that's pretty minor, but jeez, you're already out there). Oh, and he does that thing I just hate where you shovel the walk but only the width of the shovel. You know, up one way and that's it, as opposed to up one way and down the other. I mean, come on, you made the first sweep...just do it once more going the other way.
Don't worry amigos, I will say something to him. I'm not afraid of that. It just ticks me a bit because it's something we've had to discuss before. Gets tiresome, you know?
You know what's a good movie? American History X, that's a good movie. I'm tired today because I stayed up last night watching it. Did I mention I went to see There Will Be Blood? Well, I did, and as far as I'm concerned the rest of the oscar nominated actors should just stay home oscar night because DDL has it all sewed up. He was brilliant! I do like that PT Anderson too. The only movie of his I haven't seen is Punch Drunk Love. I'm sorry, I just have a thing with Adam Sandler...don't like him. Not one bit.
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