It's been one month since my brother passed away.
Since then so many things have happened, either because they had to, or because time goes on and we have no choice. And because so much has happened it feels like it's been more than a month. Yet....yet somehow....as I wake in the morning and go through the motions of living life, it occurs to me that my brother is gone and it hurts in indescribable ways. I see the little things that remind me of him, or someone says something in way that reminds me of him, or I have a question that I have no doubts he would have had an answer for....there are just all these things that make me think of him and all those things....it all that makes me feel like the day is still December 11th. Mentally, I've been on that day this whole time.
In some ways, I've been through this before. I have lost loved ones before. I only within the last year and a half lost both of my beloved dogs. I know how this goes. You can damage your ankle with a really bad sprain and it hurts immensely but slowly heals. It may look fine on the outside, and might function as well as can be, but now there's arthritis and it hurts all the time; you just learn to cope with a regularly sore ankle. In this case I have a really sore heart.
I don't know if it feels so much worse because he was my brother, at times my savior, and the person that, even when we didn't speak regularly, I knew he was there. I could count on him to help out with whatever might come up; I looked up to him because he was amazing. He was the guy I put on a pedestal. Sure, we didn't talk often and he was private so knowing him as an adult was difficult. But deep down, he was who he always was to me...and in my mind, we're still just kids doing the things that I have the best memories of...I can't seem to move on from that.
Maybe this is harder for me now because in the past, I was too young or maybe too removed from a loved one to have to deal with the aftermath. This time, I'm calling people almost everyday to sort out my brother's estate. It's a lot of repeating the word "deceased". It's overwhelming in task alone, but more so because I have to face the reality of it. I'm not even alone in this. My younger brother, my mom, and I have tag teamed this venture and it's so confusing and so voluminous with tasks that it's hard to break down.
Of course I can't let this beat me, or define me. I know this. I know I am not alone. I try to be thankful everyday for the people I have, for the help I have, the kindness of friends and family, and for the fact that I am at least able to live in a way that I think would make my brother proud (the one real person I've always tried to impress). So yea, I get up everyday, and I go to work, and I go teach class, and I do the house and parenting stuff, and I try to fit in all the other stuff...and in general I do these things as well as I can and I try not to dwell on my brother's death. And I try not to be that person that's whiny or airs dirty laundry or dwells on a subject. But, on the inside, mentally I'm not where I should be; physically I am trying; and yes I am angry because he's gone, and angry because, for everyone else, time goes on and I so desperately want to go back in time; and the guilt...well, I will always wish I did more. So forgive me my few rants and ignore my red eyes should catch me after I've been crying. This will get better, but one month out is definitely not my time.
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
20170111
20121230
Blessing Baskets
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| 2011 Basket |
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| 2011 Basket - Inside: Organized Chaos |
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| 2012 Baskets |
Last year my basket came with a note about what the Blessing Basket was in addition to a note from the maker herself. This year was similar except I actually went to the website this time to find out what the Blessing Basket was really all about. http://www.blessingbasket.org/
According to the website, the Blessing Basket is "a certified nonprofit organization" having one goal to "lift the artisans we serve out of poverty". They say that they pay their weavers "a Prosperity Wage, which is significantly beyond fair trade, in fact more than anyone else in the world". "Our mission is achieved when the artisan uses their Prosperity Wages to graduate from our program into a life of sustainable financial independence."
It's a nice thought that something my mom bought is helping others, and so, I'm glad to fill as many baskets as I can with all of my frivolous sewing things. I have always tried to do the right thing by people; I try to give as much as I can to others, I don't take from those more needy, and I always try to make the best decision I can given the information I have at the time; something I picked up from my mom. Yet again, she shows how wonderful a person she is by simply getting me a very honorable gift. (Or, perhaps she knows me so well she tries to avoid things made in China and ran out of ideas, but, I like to think it's mostly part A and just a dash of B).
the tags:
Blessing Basket,
Gifts,
Mom
20120724
18 Years Ago Today
I remember what I was doing 18 years ago today. I sat at my Aunt JoAnne's home with my younger brother at my side. We were informed that at nearly 1:00 in the morning, my father had passed away. July 24th, 1994. He was only 39 years old.
Less than 12 hours before that where I was exhausted from being at the hospital, Aunt Jo asked if we'd like to stay at her house with her over night. My older brother who had no fear of being home alone chose to get dropped off at home. Drew and I went to stay with Aunt Jo. I went to say good bye to my dad, to say I would see him in the morning. By this time he was already in a coma, and as I went to give him a kiss good bye I knew it was the end. Despite all the signs, the words, the "understanding", this time I knew it. When I kissed him good bye, the last time I ever would do so, he didn't return the kiss. I'd watched him in a coma for at least a day or more and had no idea really. This time I did. I would never converse with or gain affection from him ever again.
I said good bye, I touched his face, and I walked out of the room where I pressed my back to the wall and sunk to the ground in an uncontrollable fit of tears and sadness hoping no one saw me. I calmed down to a point and remember (of all things) a nurse asking if I wanted a Popsicle.
18 years later I still remember the lack of response the last time I said good bye. I still regret not being a more loving child, a more supportive child, just a better person in general. I still regret mean things I said to him or about him. I've learned that you can't live life in such a way that allows these regrets to seep into you. Sure, everyone has passionate bouts where they say or do the wrong things...but I had more of those than most, and perhaps some justified. By the time I got to say goodbye, my father didn't know. Now all I can do is show up at his grave and remember the last place his body ever was...
Dani will never know him; he never got to see me graduate high school or college (twice!); nor was he able to walk me down the aisle and have a father-daughter dance with me. These things are what hurt. But to every sad thing I know there are positives. My father was unhealthy and now that isn't an issue. He met Holly before he left us, a very rare opportunity for fate to show its face. Our lives could have been tragically different if things were the way the had been the last year's of my father's life. A thousand "what-ifs" are all we can speculate.
I suppose my father's passing has made me a better person, more understanding, and watchful of the horrible words I may say. It made me grow up at 15 years old. It made me appreciate the things I had and things I earned. It made me proud to talk about my dad, to honor him. To this day, 18 years later, it isn't easier, I've just gained more understanding.
Less than 12 hours before that where I was exhausted from being at the hospital, Aunt Jo asked if we'd like to stay at her house with her over night. My older brother who had no fear of being home alone chose to get dropped off at home. Drew and I went to stay with Aunt Jo. I went to say good bye to my dad, to say I would see him in the morning. By this time he was already in a coma, and as I went to give him a kiss good bye I knew it was the end. Despite all the signs, the words, the "understanding", this time I knew it. When I kissed him good bye, the last time I ever would do so, he didn't return the kiss. I'd watched him in a coma for at least a day or more and had no idea really. This time I did. I would never converse with or gain affection from him ever again.
I said good bye, I touched his face, and I walked out of the room where I pressed my back to the wall and sunk to the ground in an uncontrollable fit of tears and sadness hoping no one saw me. I calmed down to a point and remember (of all things) a nurse asking if I wanted a Popsicle.
18 years later I still remember the lack of response the last time I said good bye. I still regret not being a more loving child, a more supportive child, just a better person in general. I still regret mean things I said to him or about him. I've learned that you can't live life in such a way that allows these regrets to seep into you. Sure, everyone has passionate bouts where they say or do the wrong things...but I had more of those than most, and perhaps some justified. By the time I got to say goodbye, my father didn't know. Now all I can do is show up at his grave and remember the last place his body ever was...
Dani will never know him; he never got to see me graduate high school or college (twice!); nor was he able to walk me down the aisle and have a father-daughter dance with me. These things are what hurt. But to every sad thing I know there are positives. My father was unhealthy and now that isn't an issue. He met Holly before he left us, a very rare opportunity for fate to show its face. Our lives could have been tragically different if things were the way the had been the last year's of my father's life. A thousand "what-ifs" are all we can speculate.
I suppose my father's passing has made me a better person, more understanding, and watchful of the horrible words I may say. It made me grow up at 15 years old. It made me appreciate the things I had and things I earned. It made me proud to talk about my dad, to honor him. To this day, 18 years later, it isn't easier, I've just gained more understanding.
20101222
Appreciation
It's been some time since I've blogged anywhere. Not only am I finding it very hard to find the time to blog, but I just haven't wanted to do so. December has been a hard month. It started out with good people in the hospital and turned into a nightmare that has been overwhelming for everyone involved. My best friend since I was 5 years old lost her baby boy Wyatt on December 13th after he spent 33 wonderful weeks in his mother's womb. To make things even more dramatic for her family, her mom was in the hospital that weekend before with serious issues as well. In an odd twist, many other friends have been going to funerals all month. Even this month my mom experienced a double edged sword with a recent medical diagnosis. While we are happy she has a diagnosis, we are worried at the road she now must take. I can tell you that it makes me appreciate my Dano-Dano even at three in the morning during a crying fit. It makes me appreciate my friends and family. It makes me appreciate getting the chance to do things that many cannot do and that others take for granted.
Normally I'd use this time in my blog to vent, to share my feelings, and to get out of my head what ever it is that dwells there. But this time I'm not going to do so. I feel as though I will always remember the anger, sadness, guilt, lack of understanding, love for friends and family, and general hopelessness of this event for which I will eventually come to terms. Instead, I am going to end here to head over to Baby-Blog and write about a few things there. I will also leave here with the following poem. I read it shortly after my dad died and really liked it. It was read last night at Wyatt's memorial as well.
Normally I'd use this time in my blog to vent, to share my feelings, and to get out of my head what ever it is that dwells there. But this time I'm not going to do so. I feel as though I will always remember the anger, sadness, guilt, lack of understanding, love for friends and family, and general hopelessness of this event for which I will eventually come to terms. Instead, I am going to end here to head over to Baby-Blog and write about a few things there. I will also leave here with the following poem. I read it shortly after my dad died and really liked it. It was read last night at Wyatt's memorial as well.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
the tags:
Dani Marie,
Death,
Depression,
Eva,
Mom,
Sharline,
Wyatt
20101104
20101103
Exhausting Day
Today was an exhausting day but productive. I brought a work laptop home to work from home for a few days. Assuming I don't give birth tomorrow (hypothetically speaking), I plan on this routine for the next few weeks. Office M-W; Home Th-F. I'll be working off my desktop through a remote connection on the laptop I've borrowed. It's actually pretty cool.
Tomorrow is my mom's birthday, so tonight, after leaving a great NST, Chris and I went up to E-ville to pick up her gift. While in E-ville, we picked up a deck box to put all the pool gear in for the end of summer.
I also got some good news from work...beyond working from home. I won't dwell on it though.
I also packed most of my bag for the hospital (partially because I needed to, partially because I'm paranoid today, and partially because Chris got my bag out of storage for me to pack it).
On the crappy news front, E. failed her 1 hour glucose test, so tomorrow she'll be doing the 3 hour test.
All right, with all that said, I'm out of here, sleep is to be had!
Tomorrow is my mom's birthday, so tonight, after leaving a great NST, Chris and I went up to E-ville to pick up her gift. While in E-ville, we picked up a deck box to put all the pool gear in for the end of summer.
I also got some good news from work...beyond working from home. I won't dwell on it though.
I also packed most of my bag for the hospital (partially because I needed to, partially because I'm paranoid today, and partially because Chris got my bag out of storage for me to pack it).
On the crappy news front, E. failed her 1 hour glucose test, so tomorrow she'll be doing the 3 hour test.
All right, with all that said, I'm out of here, sleep is to be had!
20100111
Chet the Jet
I recommend books all the time that people probably end up hating and wondering why I'd even bother reading let alone recommending! But one of the books I once recommended to my brother was Dog On It by Spencer Quinn, seemingly enjoyed by all. My mom and both my brothers read it. Since then, and to my utmost delight, I found the blog by Chet the Jet (hero of the book, a dog named Chet). I also follow Chet on Twitter! Anyway, the new book is out, Thereby Hangs A Tail.
I chose to mention this because I was reading today's blog which made me chortle aloud at work, thus giving away the fact I wasn't actually working. [People don't laugh at work in this industry]. So it goes, Chet arrives home and realizes that there have been trespassers. I'm on edge with anticipation as to who might have been on his property...
...I have to laugh, that's just exactly what a dog would do; get everyone up in arms thinking some one is at the door or breaking into the house, you charge through rooms at the ready to find, but what, really?, that's just a squirrel taunting you with it's tail! Ohhhhh Dogs!
Anyway, good books, go read!
SMART ASS
WHAT AM I?
I am a form of dance.
I have companies throughout the world.
My lead dancers are called principals.
I have five main positions.
Edgar Degas’ paintings of me are well known.
The Nutcracker and Swan Lake are among my popular works.
Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my most famous dancers.
My apparel can include tutus and toe shoes.
[easy peasy japanesy...and on that note, Mike, you were right, it was Degas...interesting that we just had that conversation yesterday]
WORDS
febrile: marked or caused by fever; feverish. This word, along with fever, are derived from the Latin word febris, meaning a fever.
confabulate: 1.:to talk informally; chat. 2. to hold a discussion; to confer. 3.:to fill in gaps in memory by fabrication. Confabulate, fabulous, and fable are all derivatives of the Latin word fabula meaning "conversation" or "story" depending on the usage.
kinesics: a systematic study of the relationship between nonlinguistic body motions (as blushes, shrugs, and eye movement) and communication. The formal study of "body language" is believed to have begun with the publishing of Ray Birdshistell's book Introduction to Kinesics in 1952.
I chose to mention this because I was reading today's blog which made me chortle aloud at work, thus giving away the fact I wasn't actually working. [People don't laugh at work in this industry]. So it goes, Chet arrives home and realizes that there have been trespassers. I'm on edge with anticipation as to who might have been on his property...
...I followed the scents: squirrel, bird, the mailman, toad, and several of my guys, including – Iggy?
...I have to laugh, that's just exactly what a dog would do; get everyone up in arms thinking some one is at the door or breaking into the house, you charge through rooms at the ready to find, but what, really?, that's just a squirrel taunting you with it's tail! Ohhhhh Dogs!
Anyway, good books, go read!
SMART ASS
WHAT AM I?
[easy peasy japanesy...and on that note, Mike, you were right, it was Degas...interesting that we just had that conversation yesterday]
WORDS
febrile: marked or caused by fever; feverish. This word, along with fever, are derived from the Latin word febris, meaning a fever.
confabulate: 1.:to talk informally; chat. 2. to hold a discussion; to confer. 3.:to fill in gaps in memory by fabrication. Confabulate, fabulous, and fable are all derivatives of the Latin word fabula meaning "conversation" or "story" depending on the usage.
kinesics: a systematic study of the relationship between nonlinguistic body motions (as blushes, shrugs, and eye movement) and communication. The formal study of "body language" is believed to have begun with the publishing of Ray Birdshistell's book Introduction to Kinesics in 1952.
20091117
NabloPoNo Day 17 Post 14 - Reading Time Vomit
A story I promised...
I was about 6 years old in First grade. My mom was pregnant with my younger brother Drew, and for a period of time she was in the hospital with complications. [Please keep in mind that this was back in the day when hospitals kept a person for more than one day, and to me it seemed like an eternity, but could have been no more than a week perhaps]. I was very much a mama's girl and tried to stay attached to one of her legs at all times. There were a few times we were detached, one of which was school. After dragging me down the hall while I sobbed, she'd lob me through the classroom door and run as fast as she could out of my sight. Once in the classroom I seemed to calm myself enough to at least focus on getting to the end of the day.
I never enjoyed reading much at the age of 5-19, but I knew I had to learn so I tried for a few moments each day. The teacher, whose name I no longer know how to spell, would break us into groups and we'd each take our turn sitting in a circle around the teacher reading our few lines in the text book. I don't know how or when or why it would happen, but every day, EVERY SINGLE DAY, I would vomit! The got book covered, my clothes got littered, and the stench went every where! I would be sent to the Principal's office (who had my Aunt on speed dial since this was the routine); and from what I understand, my classmates grew to hate the pine scented absorbent that was sprinkled over my mess for cleaning.
Ah, those where the days!
...word...
raise: Parent or parents; the people who raised you.
I was about 6 years old in First grade. My mom was pregnant with my younger brother Drew, and for a period of time she was in the hospital with complications. [Please keep in mind that this was back in the day when hospitals kept a person for more than one day, and to me it seemed like an eternity, but could have been no more than a week perhaps]. I was very much a mama's girl and tried to stay attached to one of her legs at all times. There were a few times we were detached, one of which was school. After dragging me down the hall while I sobbed, she'd lob me through the classroom door and run as fast as she could out of my sight. Once in the classroom I seemed to calm myself enough to at least focus on getting to the end of the day.
I never enjoyed reading much at the age of 5-19, but I knew I had to learn so I tried for a few moments each day. The teacher, whose name I no longer know how to spell, would break us into groups and we'd each take our turn sitting in a circle around the teacher reading our few lines in the text book. I don't know how or when or why it would happen, but every day, EVERY SINGLE DAY, I would vomit! The got book covered, my clothes got littered, and the stench went every where! I would be sent to the Principal's office (who had my Aunt on speed dial since this was the routine); and from what I understand, my classmates grew to hate the pine scented absorbent that was sprinkled over my mess for cleaning.
Ah, those where the days!
...word...
raise: Parent or parents; the people who raised you.
In use: I am having Thanksgiving dinner with the raise this year.
20091109
NaBloPoMo Day Nine Post Seven - Oops!
Okay, so by the title I would hope you could infer that I missed two posts. I would hope more so that you are one of my two readers that pay attention often enough to simply know that I missed two posts.
Anyway, I'm way off the course of topic which is "how and why I would miss blogging"! I would like to blame work, since it is after all overwhelming me these days! I cannot though. As you may know, I was off to Berkley, California for a couple of days for a volunteer meeting for SEI (Structural Engineering Institute) that I am involved in since I am the local St. Louis Chair. It's not grand. You could even go so far to say I am Chair only because I lost the election. To be true though, I enjoy it some times as I altruistically love structural engineering. Sorry, off track, I won't dwell there but will get back to my point. I returned on Saturday, my first missed blog day/post. I would have sent a short blog from my phone, but was traveling non-stop in such a manner that my phone was on airplane mode most of the day. When I did get back to St. Louis, it was late, and so I only got a chance to do anything besides move at around 10pm; at which time I crashed into bed holding on snugly to my dogs that I missed dearly. It didn't occur to me until later in the day Sunday that I'd missed a day. I had sort of made a silent vow to blog Sunday with an extra to make up for my mistake. Well, you see how that went!
None the less, the bloggity guilt has overwhelmed me...and as such I will spend an enormous amount of time today catching up! Now is the time to either really try to focus with me, or to simply scroll to the bottom for your words!
-Thursday mom had surgery. She is doing well, but in a lot of pain. Thanks for all the well wishes!
-Thursday I flew out to Oakland, took the BART to the North Berkley station where I waited for a hotel shuttle to pick me up. Turns out two of the other meeting attendees were also waiting, so I got a head start meeting people!
-Friday I went to my meeting that went well. We then took off for a boat ride around the bay to look at the old, new, and still under construction Bay Bridge. I encourage you to go check out baybridgeinfo.org. We had a great guide and an all around great trip on the bay (despite my innate fear of water, I enjoyed myself). See pictures below.
-Upon returning to the hotel (that sits in a marina) I discovered that I didn't need to go to any meetings that evening, but only to a dinner that was several hours away. I decided to take that time to go for a jog in a nearby park, Cesar Chavez Park (see below for location and pictures). While jogging I literally had to stop to catch my breath from the over powering view. At the North end of the park as one turns the corner from the East, you can see out over the bay to the mountains, to Yogi Bear Island (see a map for real Island name), to the Golden Gate and Bay bridges, and even to San Fransisco. Breath.Taking!
- I flew home on Saturday leaving some meetings early. Saturday was the 7th, my anniversary. Considering how this year has gone, it's a small miracle we've even made it to three years. I choose not to air laundry on my blog, not the place nor the time. But, it should be noted that we did have a third anniversary and I did make it home for part of it!
- Sunday was a gorgeous day that started by taking the dogs to meet Amanda and Lou in a dog park in Edwardsville. They were worn out pretty quick, thankfully! From there we took the pooches home to then headed over to Kitchen Conservatory where I bought a knife as a gift, but the best part was that it was made in Germany (not China). I also bought some Vanilla Extract Paste.
-I made a small donation here...
Words...
disco nap: Sleeping when you have something going later on that you need to get ready for.
Kraft singles: Dollar bills. Derived from another slang term that refers to money as "cheese".
audible: To make an unexpected, last-minute decision. This definition is derived from its meaning in football.
Anyway, I'm way off the course of topic which is "how and why I would miss blogging"! I would like to blame work, since it is after all overwhelming me these days! I cannot though. As you may know, I was off to Berkley, California for a couple of days for a volunteer meeting for SEI (Structural Engineering Institute) that I am involved in since I am the local St. Louis Chair. It's not grand. You could even go so far to say I am Chair only because I lost the election. To be true though, I enjoy it some times as I altruistically love structural engineering. Sorry, off track, I won't dwell there but will get back to my point. I returned on Saturday, my first missed blog day/post. I would have sent a short blog from my phone, but was traveling non-stop in such a manner that my phone was on airplane mode most of the day. When I did get back to St. Louis, it was late, and so I only got a chance to do anything besides move at around 10pm; at which time I crashed into bed holding on snugly to my dogs that I missed dearly. It didn't occur to me until later in the day Sunday that I'd missed a day. I had sort of made a silent vow to blog Sunday with an extra to make up for my mistake. Well, you see how that went!
None the less, the bloggity guilt has overwhelmed me...and as such I will spend an enormous amount of time today catching up! Now is the time to either really try to focus with me, or to simply scroll to the bottom for your words!
-Thursday mom had surgery. She is doing well, but in a lot of pain. Thanks for all the well wishes!
-Thursday I flew out to Oakland, took the BART to the North Berkley station where I waited for a hotel shuttle to pick me up. Turns out two of the other meeting attendees were also waiting, so I got a head start meeting people!
-Friday I went to my meeting that went well. We then took off for a boat ride around the bay to look at the old, new, and still under construction Bay Bridge. I encourage you to go check out baybridgeinfo.org. We had a great guide and an all around great trip on the bay (despite my innate fear of water, I enjoyed myself). See pictures below.
 |  | |
 |  |  |
-Upon returning to the hotel (that sits in a marina) I discovered that I didn't need to go to any meetings that evening, but only to a dinner that was several hours away. I decided to take that time to go for a jog in a nearby park, Cesar Chavez Park (see below for location and pictures). While jogging I literally had to stop to catch my breath from the over powering view. At the North end of the park as one turns the corner from the East, you can see out over the bay to the mountains, to Yogi Bear Island (see a map for real Island name), to the Golden Gate and Bay bridges, and even to San Fransisco. Breath.Taking!
 |  |  |
- I flew home on Saturday leaving some meetings early. Saturday was the 7th, my anniversary. Considering how this year has gone, it's a small miracle we've even made it to three years. I choose not to air laundry on my blog, not the place nor the time. But, it should be noted that we did have a third anniversary and I did make it home for part of it!
- Sunday was a gorgeous day that started by taking the dogs to meet Amanda and Lou in a dog park in Edwardsville. They were worn out pretty quick, thankfully! From there we took the pooches home to then headed over to Kitchen Conservatory where I bought a knife as a gift, but the best part was that it was made in Germany (not China). I also bought some Vanilla Extract Paste.
-I made a small donation here...
Words...
disco nap: Sleeping when you have something going later on that you need to get ready for.
Kraft singles: Dollar bills. Derived from another slang term that refers to money as "cheese".
audible: To make an unexpected, last-minute decision. This definition is derived from its meaning in football.
20091105
NaBloPoMo Day Five Post Five - All About Amanda
Short blog for a short girl! :)
No real story today as I have tons to do and I leave for California at noon. I'm excited to get away from reality for a bit; not so excited that it's for a meeting, and even less excited that I have to go while my mom is having surgery. She says it's okay. I have to trust her instinct on this one. Drew [aka Baby Brother] is supposed to be taking care of her, but I worry that she'll try to do too much. She always does too much!
Anyway, scmanyway; I don't have a real story but an amusing quote...
I was discussing with Amanda my method of choosing to go or not go to Cali., which was basically asking everyone I knew and even everyone I didn't know what I should do...and majority vote was to go. Amanda had also suggested that I go and so her response was, "at least I'm not alone in the majortiy". She caught herself right away. Majority, no one is alone!
Word...
lactard: A lactose-intolerant person.
[Speaking of Amanda....*snickering*, she's a lactard!]
No real story today as I have tons to do and I leave for California at noon. I'm excited to get away from reality for a bit; not so excited that it's for a meeting, and even less excited that I have to go while my mom is having surgery. She says it's okay. I have to trust her instinct on this one. Drew [aka Baby Brother] is supposed to be taking care of her, but I worry that she'll try to do too much. She always does too much!
Anyway, scmanyway; I don't have a real story but an amusing quote...
I was discussing with Amanda my method of choosing to go or not go to Cali., which was basically asking everyone I knew and even everyone I didn't know what I should do...and majority vote was to go. Amanda had also suggested that I go and so her response was, "at least I'm not alone in the majortiy". She caught herself right away. Majority, no one is alone!
Word...
lactard: A lactose-intolerant person.
[Speaking of Amanda....*snickering*, she's a lactard!]
20091104
NaBloPoMo Day Four Post Four - Mom's Birthday
Again, little time...synopsis:
-Today, mom's birthday! Alles Gute zum Geburtstag Mutti!
-Tomorrow is her surgery.
-Tomorrow I leave for California, I return Saturday night.
-Got in a little bit of a quarrel yesterday at work, which ended up with the phrase, "I need to speak to you in a conference room"...great!
-I just got lectured...yea I know, some thug is going to beat me up and rob me of everything I have...the thought passes through my head all the time...if I could have a body guard with me at the snap of my fingers, everything would be lovely, but I don't and I can't!
I can't think of a short story for now...but I've got a small list: Reading Time Vomit; Drew and the Broken Nose; Irish Dude and the Camping Tool....etc....so stay tuned!
At least a word...phlog: Fake blog; a Web site pretending to be a blog but actually the creation of the mainstream media or professional; political operatives.
-Today, mom's birthday! Alles Gute zum Geburtstag Mutti!
-Tomorrow is her surgery.
-Tomorrow I leave for California, I return Saturday night.
-Got in a little bit of a quarrel yesterday at work, which ended up with the phrase, "I need to speak to you in a conference room"...great!
-I just got lectured...yea I know, some thug is going to beat me up and rob me of everything I have...the thought passes through my head all the time...if I could have a body guard with me at the snap of my fingers, everything would be lovely, but I don't and I can't!
I can't think of a short story for now...but I've got a small list: Reading Time Vomit; Drew and the Broken Nose; Irish Dude and the Camping Tool....etc....so stay tuned!
At least a word...phlog: Fake blog; a Web site pretending to be a blog but actually the creation of the mainstream media or professional; political operatives.
the tags:
Birthday,
California,
Mom,
NaBloPoMo,
Words
20091028
Scary Things
First let me say hello to a new follower, Eric Ketzer. Steph speaks highly of you and your music; nice to informally meet you. I see by way of Facebook that Steph has been busy uploading YouTube videos of your performance recently! I have yet to see them, but I will!
Next I want to mention that I watched a National Geographic Explorer episode last night about feet that were washing up on British Columbia's shores. I would recommend looking it up and watching it if possible, very intriguing!! If you can't find the show, maybe try looking it up online and reading about it.
A few quick updates...
Mom is having surgery on the 5th, nothing major.
On the 5th I am flying to Oakland, CA for a meeting in Berkeley, CA. I will return on the 7th.
Two coworkers and I were leaving downtown yesterday night at about 9:00 pm; one of us was assaulted in an attempted mugging in the Kiener East garage. Please be careful. Call for an escort if needed!
Yesterday a coworker thought he might be having a stroke; today a coworker fainted...I've become acutely aware of who to contact in case of an emergency!
Now..onto what I want to write about today...
Three Things That Scare Me [inspired by @Eammon, read here]
Painted Faces and Masks
If you read my blog regularly you may already know of this fear from the blog Painted-Face-A-Phobia. I believe it stems from the movie Fortress. Having not seen the film in some time I can only tell you that it is a movie about a small school in the Australian outback that is taken hostage by a group of masked men. Creepy. Perhaps it's not simply the masking of one's face, but I also feel as though I can't trust someone without their non-verbal language to accompany what they say...facial expressions say a lot!
The Monsters Under My Bed
Go on and laugh. But let's be realistic, name a person that has never awaken in the middle of the night with a racing heart...wanting, no NEEDING, to run to safety but knowing that as soon as you put your foot on the ground someone or thing will reach out from under the bed and grab you! The difference between me and you is that I never grew out of that fear. I still wake up terrified from some nightmare, needing to perhaps get some water or use the toilet, but too afraid to put my feet on the ground. It's so irrational that it annoys me, and yet still I am afraid!
The Dark
Perhaps it's my fear of not knowing, or not seeing, or not being able to prepare...but the dark frightens me. I have a night light next to my bed. I try not to be caught alone in the dark. When I know I'll be home alone I make sure to prepare everything ahead of time so that I can avoid the dark basement, the dark yard, or a dark house. Too much Scooby Doo as a child? Probably!
Next I want to mention that I watched a National Geographic Explorer episode last night about feet that were washing up on British Columbia's shores. I would recommend looking it up and watching it if possible, very intriguing!! If you can't find the show, maybe try looking it up online and reading about it.
A few quick updates...
Mom is having surgery on the 5th, nothing major.
On the 5th I am flying to Oakland, CA for a meeting in Berkeley, CA. I will return on the 7th.
Two coworkers and I were leaving downtown yesterday night at about 9:00 pm; one of us was assaulted in an attempted mugging in the Kiener East garage. Please be careful. Call for an escort if needed!
Yesterday a coworker thought he might be having a stroke; today a coworker fainted...I've become acutely aware of who to contact in case of an emergency!
Now..onto what I want to write about today...
Three Things That Scare Me [inspired by @Eammon, read here]
Painted Faces and Masks
If you read my blog regularly you may already know of this fear from the blog Painted-Face-A-Phobia. I believe it stems from the movie Fortress. Having not seen the film in some time I can only tell you that it is a movie about a small school in the Australian outback that is taken hostage by a group of masked men. Creepy. Perhaps it's not simply the masking of one's face, but I also feel as though I can't trust someone without their non-verbal language to accompany what they say...facial expressions say a lot!
The Monsters Under My Bed
Go on and laugh. But let's be realistic, name a person that has never awaken in the middle of the night with a racing heart...wanting, no NEEDING, to run to safety but knowing that as soon as you put your foot on the ground someone or thing will reach out from under the bed and grab you! The difference between me and you is that I never grew out of that fear. I still wake up terrified from some nightmare, needing to perhaps get some water or use the toilet, but too afraid to put my feet on the ground. It's so irrational that it annoys me, and yet still I am afraid!
The Dark
Perhaps it's my fear of not knowing, or not seeing, or not being able to prepare...but the dark frightens me. I have a night light next to my bed. I try not to be caught alone in the dark. When I know I'll be home alone I make sure to prepare everything ahead of time so that I can avoid the dark basement, the dark yard, or a dark house. Too much Scooby Doo as a child? Probably!
20090922
I Lost the Election
Phew, it's one of those days, but thus far productive!
First I want to say that I in no way intend to offend anyone who reads. For instance, the whole "strictly 2 kids per couple" ideology...well, I am part of 4 siblings; my sister has 4 wonderful children; my dad was 1 of 5 children and my mom was 1 of 5. I love each of these people completely independent of some numeric embodiment. My ideas are just that, my ideas. So, never take anything I say personally. I don't want to judge you. I don't want to judge anyone! I'd rather see that you are different and learn from you than for you to think I'm unswayable in opinion! Got it? It's just that I honestly write for me, so I splatter my slobbery words all over this blog, and rarely think before hitting the "Publish Post" button!
Now I want to say that I made awesome apple pies. I plan on writing my first food blog soon! So stayed tuned for that!
I heard from Shane again, who claims he will be "ok". I can only assume he won't lie to me, and while he appears to have never made a huge effort to lie to me, I don't trust people, so I can only have some faith in this instance [faith is something I have little of].
I also heard from Holly, I am glad to see she is alive and functioning about the best she can! Keep the chin up sis! She was also able to provide me with some insight and opinions, which I always appreciate!
I made this blog/site for an organization I am involved in: http://www.seistudents.com. I volunteer for a lot of stuff, SEI-St. Louis for one, of which I am the chairman only because I lost the election. I need to learn to say no, so, yea, give me any tips you can. I typically feel guilty for saying no, and yet I can be so mean...how does this work exactly?? Really though, I blog for work and enjoy it. I used to do a newsletter for SEAKM (another eng. org.) and I enjoyed it for a period of time. This little web thing I'm doing it fun for the moment. I feel so compelled to help people I almost don't notice the stress and socialization required. It all catches up with me though! Eh, whatcha gonna do?
First I want to say that I in no way intend to offend anyone who reads. For instance, the whole "strictly 2 kids per couple" ideology...well, I am part of 4 siblings; my sister has 4 wonderful children; my dad was 1 of 5 children and my mom was 1 of 5. I love each of these people completely independent of some numeric embodiment. My ideas are just that, my ideas. So, never take anything I say personally. I don't want to judge you. I don't want to judge anyone! I'd rather see that you are different and learn from you than for you to think I'm unswayable in opinion! Got it? It's just that I honestly write for me, so I splatter my slobbery words all over this blog, and rarely think before hitting the "Publish Post" button!
Now I want to say that I made awesome apple pies. I plan on writing my first food blog soon! So stayed tuned for that!
I heard from Shane again, who claims he will be "ok". I can only assume he won't lie to me, and while he appears to have never made a huge effort to lie to me, I don't trust people, so I can only have some faith in this instance [faith is something I have little of].
I also heard from Holly, I am glad to see she is alive and functioning about the best she can! Keep the chin up sis! She was also able to provide me with some insight and opinions, which I always appreciate!
I made this blog/site for an organization I am involved in: http://www.seistudents.com. I volunteer for a lot of stuff, SEI-St. Louis for one, of which I am the chairman only because I lost the election. I need to learn to say no, so, yea, give me any tips you can. I typically feel guilty for saying no, and yet I can be so mean...how does this work exactly?? Really though, I blog for work and enjoy it. I used to do a newsletter for SEAKM (another eng. org.) and I enjoyed it for a period of time. This little web thing I'm doing it fun for the moment. I feel so compelled to help people I almost don't notice the stress and socialization required. It all catches up with me though! Eh, whatcha gonna do?
20090908
Never Being Repaired
All of us will inevitably go through life with some terrible story that we will never forget until Alzheimer's or death. We'll each carry that story with us close to our hearts recalling every tiny detail as we remember them. It's hard to share those stories, for each time we tell them we realize how much we have forgotten, but we also recall how painful some of those details are to us. My story goes like this.
I was 15. My friend Kelly and I spent countless hours in her backyard escaping from reality. We knew everything about each other, that we were at least willing to share. As such, she knew how I wished my father dead. I did so nearly every day. I wanted him gone for the abuses he inflicted upon my brothers and my mother. Despite what I ever endured, it seemed nothing in comparison to my poor mom. She loved him so dearly, did she not see? Looking back from 15 years in the future, I now understand that she did see, and yet her love was unwavering. It is hard to not love someone when the love is there, even when that person breaks your heart continually. I will never say what I would have done in her situation, it is not for me to judge. I know what is considered the best decision, and it was tried but to no avail.
So it was a summer evening that my mom hurried over to Kelly's yard. Her face and eyes were red so I knew something was more serious than normal. It was this moment that I heard the first phrase that I would replay over and over in my head, "they say he has about 2 weeks left". I don't know that I said anything, how could I when the wind was knocked out of me. As soon as my mom was out of hearing range, Kelly said, "looks like you got your wish", yet other phrase I replay in my head. It's this phrase that haunts me to this very day. The phrase that has willed me to never use the word "hate" towards any individual, and the phrase that always makes me think wisely before any wishing is had.
I have to admit that I can't sufficiently recall the details of these two weeks at all. I had for some reason failed to believe that dad could die. He was the cat with nine proverbial lives. He'd lived through much worse. I saw him every day. Every day he lay in that damned hospital bed I would tell him about my daily adventures with Kelly. Surely he wasn't leaving.
At around 6 in the morning the phone rang. I answered at the same time my mom answered. I kept quiet, knowing I needed to hang up, but not wanting to sacrifice the knowledge of the call. The nurse told my mom that "he is slipping into a coma, perhaps having you here to talk to him will keep him from slipping too quickly, and if nothing else, your chance to say goodbye". It was only moments later that the four of us, mom, Dusty, Drew, and myself, were at the hospital, beside dad, who would never speak to us again.
Everyone told me how brave I had been, how it was difficult to go through this, and yet I was strong, not crying, not yielding to the stress. I needed to be strong for my mom, this was no time for faltering will. The reality was though, that it hadn't hit me yet. After a few days of enduring dad's coma, my aunt offered to take me and my brothers to her house for some sleep. I gladly accepted as I was exhausted and knew Drew wouldn't go without me. I walked into dad's room full of loved ones, walked passed the eyes watching me, and to dad's bedside. I looked at his yellowed face and leaned in to say "bye dad, love you". I gave him a kiss on his still lips. I will never forget the feeling of kissing someone and getting no response. It is the most unloved feeling I have ever known.
I don't recall leaving the room, but the next memories I have are of me sitting in the corridor outside his room crying for the first time. I have a memory of a nurse giving me a Popsicle. I know that Aunt JoAnne dropped Dusty off at home since that is where he wanted to be, while Drew and I chose to sleep at Aunt JoAnne's home. I awoke the next morning and was sat at the couch in the living room with Drew; Aunt Jo told us that our dad had died at 12:54 in the morning. I did not cry. I did not speak.
It was about 2 weeks after we buried my father when his dad, my grandpa, was over repairing the air conditioner. I was excited that I got to help! I couldn't wait to tell dad. I sat in his chair waiting for him to get home from work, and as time passed I thought he was running late. I walked to the window to peer out and saw his truck sitting in the drive way. It was this very moment that I finally understood that my dad was gone. He was never coming home, he would never hear my stories, he would never sit in his chair. I had my heart broken by him on many an occasion, but this time, it would never be repaired.
I was 15. My friend Kelly and I spent countless hours in her backyard escaping from reality. We knew everything about each other, that we were at least willing to share. As such, she knew how I wished my father dead. I did so nearly every day. I wanted him gone for the abuses he inflicted upon my brothers and my mother. Despite what I ever endured, it seemed nothing in comparison to my poor mom. She loved him so dearly, did she not see? Looking back from 15 years in the future, I now understand that she did see, and yet her love was unwavering. It is hard to not love someone when the love is there, even when that person breaks your heart continually. I will never say what I would have done in her situation, it is not for me to judge. I know what is considered the best decision, and it was tried but to no avail.
So it was a summer evening that my mom hurried over to Kelly's yard. Her face and eyes were red so I knew something was more serious than normal. It was this moment that I heard the first phrase that I would replay over and over in my head, "they say he has about 2 weeks left". I don't know that I said anything, how could I when the wind was knocked out of me. As soon as my mom was out of hearing range, Kelly said, "looks like you got your wish", yet other phrase I replay in my head. It's this phrase that haunts me to this very day. The phrase that has willed me to never use the word "hate" towards any individual, and the phrase that always makes me think wisely before any wishing is had.
I have to admit that I can't sufficiently recall the details of these two weeks at all. I had for some reason failed to believe that dad could die. He was the cat with nine proverbial lives. He'd lived through much worse. I saw him every day. Every day he lay in that damned hospital bed I would tell him about my daily adventures with Kelly. Surely he wasn't leaving.
At around 6 in the morning the phone rang. I answered at the same time my mom answered. I kept quiet, knowing I needed to hang up, but not wanting to sacrifice the knowledge of the call. The nurse told my mom that "he is slipping into a coma, perhaps having you here to talk to him will keep him from slipping too quickly, and if nothing else, your chance to say goodbye". It was only moments later that the four of us, mom, Dusty, Drew, and myself, were at the hospital, beside dad, who would never speak to us again.
Everyone told me how brave I had been, how it was difficult to go through this, and yet I was strong, not crying, not yielding to the stress. I needed to be strong for my mom, this was no time for faltering will. The reality was though, that it hadn't hit me yet. After a few days of enduring dad's coma, my aunt offered to take me and my brothers to her house for some sleep. I gladly accepted as I was exhausted and knew Drew wouldn't go without me. I walked into dad's room full of loved ones, walked passed the eyes watching me, and to dad's bedside. I looked at his yellowed face and leaned in to say "bye dad, love you". I gave him a kiss on his still lips. I will never forget the feeling of kissing someone and getting no response. It is the most unloved feeling I have ever known.
I don't recall leaving the room, but the next memories I have are of me sitting in the corridor outside his room crying for the first time. I have a memory of a nurse giving me a Popsicle. I know that Aunt JoAnne dropped Dusty off at home since that is where he wanted to be, while Drew and I chose to sleep at Aunt JoAnne's home. I awoke the next morning and was sat at the couch in the living room with Drew; Aunt Jo told us that our dad had died at 12:54 in the morning. I did not cry. I did not speak.
It was about 2 weeks after we buried my father when his dad, my grandpa, was over repairing the air conditioner. I was excited that I got to help! I couldn't wait to tell dad. I sat in his chair waiting for him to get home from work, and as time passed I thought he was running late. I walked to the window to peer out and saw his truck sitting in the drive way. It was this very moment that I finally understood that my dad was gone. He was never coming home, he would never hear my stories, he would never sit in his chair. I had my heart broken by him on many an occasion, but this time, it would never be repaired.
20090708
My Itinerary
For those of you that choose to keep track of me, like Amanda, Holly, and Drew (for mom) . . . here is my itinerary for next week. (This is also my back up copy).
[For reference, STL-St. Louis, ATL-Atlanta, DUB-Dublin, LHR-London Heathrow, GLA-Glasgow, all US flights are Delta booked through Northwest]
DUBLIN
JULY 14 Flight DL1723 STL-ATL 15:15; arrive 17:57
JULY 14 Flight DL0176 ATL-DUB 20:55; arrive 10:00 (+ 1 day)
Hotel Jurys Inn Parnell Street (353 (0)1 878 4900) [In-15th, Out-16th]
LONDON
JULY 16 Flight BD124 DUB-LHR 11:40; arrive 13:00 (44 (0)13 3264 8181) [REF#32L4ZX, bmi]
Hotel Euston Square Hotel (44 (0)20 7388 0099) [In-16th, Out-18th]
GLASGOW
JULY 18 Flight BA1492 LHR-GLA 17:35; arrive 19:00 [REF#32FWHT, British Airways]
Hotel Victorian House Hotel (0141 332 0129) [In-18th, Out-20th]
DUBLIN
JULY 20 Flight AL225 GLA-DUB 10:55; arrive 11:50 [REF#25FJ2N, Aer Lingus]
Hotel Jurys Inn Parnell Street (353 (0)1 878 4900) [In-20th, Out-21st]
HOME
JULY 21 Flight DL0177 DUB-ATL 11:50; arrive 15:45
JULY 21 Flight DL0909 ATL-STL 17:35; arrive 18:20
Anyone wanting to drop me off and/or pick me up at the airport or a Metrolink station may volunteer! ha, like how I threw that in there!
[For reference, STL-St. Louis, ATL-Atlanta, DUB-Dublin, LHR-London Heathrow, GLA-Glasgow, all US flights are Delta booked through Northwest]
DUBLIN
JULY 14 Flight DL1723 STL-ATL 15:15; arrive 17:57
JULY 14 Flight DL0176 ATL-DUB 20:55; arrive 10:00 (+ 1 day)
Hotel Jurys Inn Parnell Street (353 (0)1 878 4900) [In-15th, Out-16th]
LONDON
JULY 16 Flight BD124 DUB-LHR 11:40; arrive 13:00 (44 (0)13 3264 8181) [REF#32L4ZX, bmi]
Hotel Euston Square Hotel (44 (0)20 7388 0099) [In-16th, Out-18th]
GLASGOW
JULY 18 Flight BA1492 LHR-GLA 17:35; arrive 19:00 [REF#32FWHT, British Airways]
Hotel Victorian House Hotel (0141 332 0129) [In-18th, Out-20th]
DUBLIN
JULY 20 Flight AL225 GLA-DUB 10:55; arrive 11:50 [REF#25FJ2N, Aer Lingus]
Hotel Jurys Inn Parnell Street (353 (0)1 878 4900) [In-20th, Out-21st]
HOME
JULY 21 Flight DL0177 DUB-ATL 11:50; arrive 15:45
JULY 21 Flight DL0909 ATL-STL 17:35; arrive 18:20
Anyone wanting to drop me off and/or pick me up at the airport or a Metrolink station may volunteer! ha, like how I threw that in there!
20090624
I Hate Heartbreak!
Yep, I did it! I whacked my head hard enough to give myself a concussion. Little is to be said about it. I'm fine, I'm doing nothing about it as there is nothing to be done, and there is NO reason (let me emphasize this) NO REASON TO TELL MOM! Got it?
There's nothing more to say about it, so I'll move on to other subjects. My friends, The Trowbridges (Will, Christine, and Grace) are having their canine friend put to sleep today as poor Queens health is in a dire state. She has cancer that is making breathing very labored. The vet said it's really a matter of days until she goes on her on, and it will be painful. It's the right choice. It's sad. I hate heartbreak!
Well, that's really all I have today. Later maybe.
Word-
grow a pair: To gather one's courage and do what needs to be done. Sometimes used as a call to action. Often used as an insult.
There's nothing more to say about it, so I'll move on to other subjects. My friends, The Trowbridges (Will, Christine, and Grace) are having their canine friend put to sleep today as poor Queens health is in a dire state. She has cancer that is making breathing very labored. The vet said it's really a matter of days until she goes on her on, and it will be painful. It's the right choice. It's sad. I hate heartbreak!
Well, that's really all I have today. Later maybe.
Word-
grow a pair: To gather one's courage and do what needs to be done. Sometimes used as a call to action. Often used as an insult.
the tags:
Christine,
Concussion,
Daily,
Dogs,
Grace,
Heartbreak,
Mom,
Trowbridge,
Will
20090514
Other Transportation - National Bike Month
For National Bike Month, I plan on riding to work tomorrow. Well, actually, I will be riding my bike to the bus station and then catching the bus the rest of the way. This is my route to the bus station . . . 1.6 miles [2.57 km]
If I were to ride to the grocery store, this would be my route . . . 1.2 miles [1.93 km]
If I were going to ride to my mom's house (about the farthest I would safely venture), I would take this route . . . 9.5 miles [15.29 km]
If I were to ride to the grocery store, this would be my route . . . 1.2 miles [1.93 km]
If I were going to ride to my mom's house (about the farthest I would safely venture), I would take this route . . . 9.5 miles [15.29 km]
20090512
Pull From Another Blog
So today is one of those days already. I woke up at 4:30ish, tossed and turned for an hour until my alarm went off, then tossed and turned for another 45 minutes. When I finally got out of bed, the irritation just settled right into it's cozy little spot in my mind.
Why am I irritated and annoyed? I don't know. If you could do me a favor and pop into my noggin and have a little chat with my brain; please ask that question!
I have to give many thanks to everyone that wished me a happy birthday yesterday. I owe Crystal many many thanks for not only baking me cupcakes for work (a tradition I started with the structures group); but she was also the only person to give me a gift on my birthday as well! The gift thing isn't so much what I am concerned about, I didn't ask for anything. I just thought she deserves some credit for that! My mom dropped by in the evening and brought me a low-fat cheesecake and strawberries. Chris took me to dinner. Eva is of course throwing me a birthday party (like I've been saying, if you want to come and didn't get an invite, e-mail me). Shane was the first person to wish me a happy birthday on my actual birthday. The Sutter siblings sang to me. Christine and Grace both got me birthday cards that are sitting on top of my locker at work. Mike dedicated a song to me! Skweak sent me a cut out sheep party doll on myspace. I heard from all sorts of other people too!!! So thank you to everyone, it made yesterday nice, and it made turning 30 tolerable! And, yes, I know, I know, I know . . . 30 is nothing, no big deal. BUT, it's like saying good-bye to my youth. I need time to adjust.
I really wanted to have something fun to write about today, just anything more interesting that me, but I just don't have any good stories. SO, I'm going to pull from another blog, in fact two blogs.
HOK Life's John G. wrote about awards, to which he points out Contractor's Awards. Funny Funny Stuff!
Bifsniff's Frank (a fellow I suspect likes creepy things) added a clip of an old black and white cartoon that is wildly different than any hippie-fied Diego saving whales cartoon we see today!
Word of the day-
high beams: When a woman's nipples can be obviously seen through her clothing. The larger the protrusion, the brighter the beams. [E. N.: I'm embarrassed by even listing this word today]
Why am I irritated and annoyed? I don't know. If you could do me a favor and pop into my noggin and have a little chat with my brain; please ask that question!
I have to give many thanks to everyone that wished me a happy birthday yesterday. I owe Crystal many many thanks for not only baking me cupcakes for work (a tradition I started with the structures group); but she was also the only person to give me a gift on my birthday as well! The gift thing isn't so much what I am concerned about, I didn't ask for anything. I just thought she deserves some credit for that! My mom dropped by in the evening and brought me a low-fat cheesecake and strawberries. Chris took me to dinner. Eva is of course throwing me a birthday party (like I've been saying, if you want to come and didn't get an invite, e-mail me). Shane was the first person to wish me a happy birthday on my actual birthday. The Sutter siblings sang to me. Christine and Grace both got me birthday cards that are sitting on top of my locker at work. Mike dedicated a song to me! Skweak sent me a cut out sheep party doll on myspace. I heard from all sorts of other people too!!! So thank you to everyone, it made yesterday nice, and it made turning 30 tolerable! And, yes, I know, I know, I know . . . 30 is nothing, no big deal. BUT, it's like saying good-bye to my youth. I need time to adjust.
I really wanted to have something fun to write about today, just anything more interesting that me, but I just don't have any good stories. SO, I'm going to pull from another blog, in fact two blogs.
HOK Life's John G. wrote about awards, to which he points out Contractor's Awards. Funny Funny Stuff!
Bifsniff's Frank (a fellow I suspect likes creepy things) added a clip of an old black and white cartoon that is wildly different than any hippie-fied Diego saving whales cartoon we see today!
Word of the day-
high beams: When a woman's nipples can be obviously seen through her clothing. The larger the protrusion, the brighter the beams. [E. N.: I'm embarrassed by even listing this word today]
20090414
disposable cameras
You can never fool your mother! She always knows when something is up! Enough said there.
Mom brought some Easter candy over for me and Chris, it was tasty, I ate a little bit of it and encouraged Chris to consume most of it. I of course took the sweet tarts candy for myself. It shall be noted that I did share the candy!
Now, onto a couple of other subjects. First I wanted to say that I am looking for recommendations for skiffle. It's a type of music that is not as easy to find as I might have suspected. If you have any suggestions, please send them my way!
Second topic is something I read about in Janet's blog. It's called the disposable memory project. Some people dropped disposable cameras off in cities around the world. People took the cameras, took photos, and ultimately the pictures ended up back with the project organizers. I love this idea. It's so awesome to see this stuff. I know that there are a million smart asses out there taking a picture of their not-so-smart ass, but, I hope for the most part, a lot of interesting stuff will show up. It's very exciting and I want to be a part, I want to find a camera! There was one in O'Fallon, Missouri. Only 3 cameras have been returned as of today. I'm very hopeful! Please go check it out and encourage others to look for cameras!
Word of the day-
barsexual: A college-age girl who kisses other girls in bars and clubs, usually for attention and the approval of men.
Mom brought some Easter candy over for me and Chris, it was tasty, I ate a little bit of it and encouraged Chris to consume most of it. I of course took the sweet tarts candy for myself. It shall be noted that I did share the candy!
Now, onto a couple of other subjects. First I wanted to say that I am looking for recommendations for skiffle. It's a type of music that is not as easy to find as I might have suspected. If you have any suggestions, please send them my way!
Second topic is something I read about in Janet's blog. It's called the disposable memory project. Some people dropped disposable cameras off in cities around the world. People took the cameras, took photos, and ultimately the pictures ended up back with the project organizers. I love this idea. It's so awesome to see this stuff. I know that there are a million smart asses out there taking a picture of their not-so-smart ass, but, I hope for the most part, a lot of interesting stuff will show up. It's very exciting and I want to be a part, I want to find a camera! There was one in O'Fallon, Missouri. Only 3 cameras have been returned as of today. I'm very hopeful! Please go check it out and encourage others to look for cameras!
Word of the day-
barsexual: A college-age girl who kisses other girls in bars and clubs, usually for attention and the approval of men.
20090306
Could Maybe Have Something to Do With . . .
Well, I finally made it to Friday. This week feels like it has been forever; long, stressful, and sad! The really bright side right now is that I am working in a spreadsheet. It's like wrapping yourself in a warm comfy good smelling blanket!
So, yesterday was a really weird day for me, weird things happened, I've begun wondering if I am insane or not. It's like God, that I do not believe exists, was talking to me (no, there were not voices)! I don't discuss religion, so I won't dwell on it in this blog. I also don't want to dwell on it for fear that someone will point out that I am actually very insane. I'm also just not a theologian, so, no point in this discussion; however for the sake of commentary on my life, I, for the first time in years, (in fact so long ago, I can't even recall) I actually prayed. I don't know who I prayed/talked to, I don't know why I did it, I don't even want to wonder why I did it. I just did. I prayed for a lot, for instance, I prayed that Badger would not think I'm insane for praying and just really in need of some sort of understanding as well as for him to figure out his work situation. I prayed the same for Amanda as well (whose opinion I think highly of), and that for her to have some amazing strength (which she already has) to get through everything that is going on with her life. I prayed for my mom to be healthy. I prayed for Eva to be healthy. I prayed for Shane to get some sleep. I prayed for Holly to get a break for once. I don't know how this prayer thing works, I did after all give up on it years ago. Maybe I asked for too much. All I know is that it didn't kill me. I'm not ready to be converted and I don't even want to see a single comment from anyone on this subject. It's literally just a commentary on my life right now!
So part of my prayer was for my mom, who is okay at the moment. Yesterday she was in urgent care with some leg pains that they thought were blood clots. She was scanned and told that was not the problem. I really hope they are right and didn't miss something with the scan. I need my mommy!
Badger picked out some plants for the house/backyard. They are lovely, I don't want to maintain them, but they will look great if properly cared for. I like to garden, I'm just not in the mood to do it!
Rachel K. is still in the hospital, no baby yet, but doing well. Hopefully she can hold out longer for the baby's health and well being.
Rachel M. is coming to town in about 3 weeks. She will be staying at my house in a spare room for part of her trip. I love when my friends come and visit and stay with me.
I am taking Emily to the airport on Saturday morning so she can head back to New York. Emily is who Amanda and I went to visit in New York. She was in town for her dad's funeral (Em is Mandy's sis). I met Em's friends Tim and April yesterday. I think they were decent people, but I really didn't chat with them or anything. Tim was very nice.
I rented a WeCar yesterday to get around to Nowhere, Illinois and back to the city.
I'm supposed to go to a jewelry party tonight, but will play it by ear to see how much work I'll have. I also think I'm getting sick. Could maybe have something to do with licking the Empire State Building. Oh well!
Anyway, I need to be finish this up and getting on with work.
So I will leave you with the word of the day!
hip replacement: The process of introducing a formerly cool person to a product or idea that attempts to make them cool again. Reinventing an individual's public persona through association or action.
In use: Quentin Tarantino gave John Travolta a hip replacement with Pulp Fiction.
So, yesterday was a really weird day for me, weird things happened, I've begun wondering if I am insane or not. It's like God, that I do not believe exists, was talking to me (no, there were not voices)! I don't discuss religion, so I won't dwell on it in this blog. I also don't want to dwell on it for fear that someone will point out that I am actually very insane. I'm also just not a theologian, so, no point in this discussion; however for the sake of commentary on my life, I, for the first time in years, (in fact so long ago, I can't even recall) I actually prayed. I don't know who I prayed/talked to, I don't know why I did it, I don't even want to wonder why I did it. I just did. I prayed for a lot, for instance, I prayed that Badger would not think I'm insane for praying and just really in need of some sort of understanding as well as for him to figure out his work situation. I prayed the same for Amanda as well (whose opinion I think highly of), and that for her to have some amazing strength (which she already has) to get through everything that is going on with her life. I prayed for my mom to be healthy. I prayed for Eva to be healthy. I prayed for Shane to get some sleep. I prayed for Holly to get a break for once. I don't know how this prayer thing works, I did after all give up on it years ago. Maybe I asked for too much. All I know is that it didn't kill me. I'm not ready to be converted and I don't even want to see a single comment from anyone on this subject. It's literally just a commentary on my life right now!
So part of my prayer was for my mom, who is okay at the moment. Yesterday she was in urgent care with some leg pains that they thought were blood clots. She was scanned and told that was not the problem. I really hope they are right and didn't miss something with the scan. I need my mommy!
Badger picked out some plants for the house/backyard. They are lovely, I don't want to maintain them, but they will look great if properly cared for. I like to garden, I'm just not in the mood to do it!
Rachel K. is still in the hospital, no baby yet, but doing well. Hopefully she can hold out longer for the baby's health and well being.
Rachel M. is coming to town in about 3 weeks. She will be staying at my house in a spare room for part of her trip. I love when my friends come and visit and stay with me.
I am taking Emily to the airport on Saturday morning so she can head back to New York. Emily is who Amanda and I went to visit in New York. She was in town for her dad's funeral (Em is Mandy's sis). I met Em's friends Tim and April yesterday. I think they were decent people, but I really didn't chat with them or anything. Tim was very nice.
I rented a WeCar yesterday to get around to Nowhere, Illinois and back to the city.
I'm supposed to go to a jewelry party tonight, but will play it by ear to see how much work I'll have. I also think I'm getting sick. Could maybe have something to do with licking the Empire State Building. Oh well!
Anyway, I need to be finish this up and getting on with work.
So I will leave you with the word of the day!
hip replacement: The process of introducing a formerly cool person to a product or idea that attempts to make them cool again. Reinventing an individual's public persona through association or action.
In use: Quentin Tarantino gave John Travolta a hip replacement with Pulp Fiction.
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