Not even creative enough to come up with a title

But I want an oompa loompa now!!!

2011-11-20T20:06:00.003-05:00

Having one of those Veruca Salt weeks - I want it all, and I want it now!!!!

Work has been tough. I took a new position 6 months ago, and I'm still not comfortable with it. I'm not the "best" at anything. There are 3 of us doing the same job - one is better than me technically, and the other is better with the business acumen. I'm good at both... but I'm not the best at either. I can't stop beating myself up for every little mis-step. I know once I know my stuff, and get up to speed, I'll be the most well-rounded... but for now I just feel not quite good enough. Had major problems with a work project this week, and I'm drained. It doesn't help when the boss says "you're the best at documentation" - instead of making me feel good about the clarity of my communications... it makes me feel like I'm the secretary of my counterparts. I know it's not meant that way, but my confidence is shot.

And of course, working 70+ hours means I haven't made it to the gym in 6 days. Depressing. It's another case of I want it, and I want it now. The changes just don't seem to be coming fast enough. In my head, I know I've lost 25 lbs this year... but I look in the mirror and I still see someone who is obese.

Ugh. That's all I've got.. ugh. Okay ladies, help me out... how do you drive home "patience" and change your perception of things when you know you aren't quite seeing the word as it is, but you're own skewed view?

I'm not too late!!!

2011-08-09T22:40:00.002-04:00

Pic to follow soon, but I'm so excited I can't hold the post for the pic. I'm not too late! Audrey II has another bud that's growing - I may actually get to see her bloom this year!

I'm just a mean green mother from outer space and I'm bad!

2011-08-05T19:10:00.007-04:00

Meet my favorite plant, affectionately known as Audrey II (A2 for short). Umm... if anyone reading this isn't a total theater/musical geek... please rent Little Shop of Horrors. Please?

A2 is hideous. She's taken over my entire bay window. Usually I tuck all of the tendrils back behind the drapes, or else you see this...

Some of those tendrils or branches, or well, let's face it - they look like tentacles, are over 5 feet long. I wanted to make sure I'm not exaggerating - so I measured. The one on the left is 5 foot, 3 inches. Very, very close to my height. There are weird spiky "things" that are up and down the tendrils. A2 is a fugly plant and the more she grows, the more disturbing she looks.

So why keep the monstrosity in the bay window? If I must keep it, why isn't she locked away in a room where no one can see her?

Audrey II was my Dad's. His father, (Poppy), only brought two things with him when he traveled from Equador to the United States in 1920. This plant, and a machete for cutting sugar cane. The plant is probably close to 100 years old. Poppy loved all of his plants, always had beautiful gardens and fruit trees. Whenever I visited him, he'd take me all around the yard explaining how to nurture each one. He was a sweet, sweet man - the same temperament as my Dad. Nonny... well, not so much. It's the men in the family who are sweet. The women are strong and fierce and more than a little prickly. But the men love them for some beauty that not every one can see... much like Audrey II.

She's a night blooming cereus, Reina de la Noche, Queen of the Night. A type of flowering cactus. They're nocturnal blooms that only last a single evening. Supposedly they're beautiful flowers that have a very strong aroma. They're supposed to look like this -

I wouldn't know from personal experience. I've never seen ours bloom. Never. Dad only got her to bloom once, in the early 70's, before he met my mom. There's a picture somewhere of Dad standing next to her at night, with all of the blooms. But we've never been able to reproduce it. So poor Audrey II has been stuck as an ugly plant that everyone complains about. Mom is always after me to trim her back some. My husband "jokes" that he's scare of the plant. I don't really think it's a joke. Me, I love her. I always hope that just water and letting her be will induce flowers. I've read up on what to do, what not to do... and I just leave her alone. She gets a quart of water every week, and that's about it. Every two weeks in the winter to keep her dormant.

She's one of the few things I have left of my Dad's. When Mom lost the house, I got Audrey II, my Dad's favorite kayaking hat that made him look like an Australian farmer, and an antique ice chest that's in my dining room (the hooch hutch!). I have plenty of memories, but not a lot of sentimental keepsakes.

Where's this all going? Well... darling Baron is in Vegas this weekend for Defcon. I'm home alone, just me and the dog. A few days ago I noticed a funny smell in the living room. Not a bad smell, just not the smell of home. Slightly musky. It's been driving me nuts. Today after work I went searching for the smell.

I found this...

The remnants of a single bloom. I missed it. She hasn't bloomed in almost 40 years, and I missed the one night she did. I sobbed. Hysterically. For an hour. I called my mother sobbing, and I couldn't speak, just sobbed like a child on the phone. She thought something had happened to my husband, and then she almost choked laughing when she realized what happened. Monday was Dad's birthday. Next week is the third anniversary of his passing. And his plant finally bloomed.

In typical "Mayor of Crazytown" fashion... she's slightly annoyed with me. This is a direct quote... "Dad always talks to you more than he talks to me". The logical part of me knows that I just let the plant be long enough to bloom. They like to be left alone. It takes 5 years worth of leaf growth before they'll bloom, and they like to be pot bound. Perfect houseplant for someone with a brown thumb. But the little girl in me is heartbroken that it was a gift from Dad that I didn't see in time to appreciate. Sigh.

Remember Madeline?

2011-06-05T17:57:00.004-04:00

Well she and I have finally been spending some quality time together. Last weekend I had a 7 mile ride and an 8.5 mile ride. Yesterday we did 11.5 miles on the Hop River Trail, and today we did the full 7.8 miles of linear trail in Southington (part of the Farmington Canal Greenway).

I must confess, I had no intention of doing the full trail today. I had already walked for 40 mins with the Mayor in the morning, and have an evening walk planned with Baron. I thought I could go for a really quick bike ride this afternoon - everything I read stated that it was only a 1.9 mile trail, which would be a little less than 4 miles by the time I was done. No brainer - a 20-25 mins bike ride. Ummm... little did I know that they extended the trail by 2 miles this year. Oops!

I think I mentioned that I started WW this week. For probably the 15th time. I'm very hopeful, it feels different this time. I feel different this time. I've figured out that while I want to lose weight, that's no longer my motivation. I want to be healthy.

It seems to be the year for reflection. Maybe it's just that many of us are starting to stare down another year evenly divisible by 10, maybe it's that we're going through major life changes, maybe it's just the overall mood of the state after such a tough economic turn and then a brutal winter. But it seems to come up every time I get together with friends. We're getting older, our bodies don't work the way they used to, and it's either now or never.

Yes, I need to lose 50 lbs. Yes, I'm going to be 40 this year. Neither of those things alone is bothering me. I'm bothered that I have at least 4 major flags to coronary disease. I'm not afraid of dying, but I'm very, very scared of being sick. I've never really had health issues, but the thought of stroke, heart attack, diabetes, are constantly playing through my mind.

Major indicators of future coronary disease:

BMI over 30 - check! I hate admitting to this one, but I've been hovering between 30-32 for the better part of the last decade
Waist circumference over 35 (duh, I'm a classic "apple" shape and obese)
Smoker
High cholesterol - I was tested last year, and my triglycerides are through the roof, as well as high bad cholesterol and low good
Hereditary heart disease - nothing I can do about this one. But my paternal grandmother had quadruple bypass at age 40. 2 of the other grandparents had Type 2 diabetes. My mother and aunt both had high cholesterol and high blood pressure by the time they were 50. Genetic cesspool.

It's enough to leave me scared. What I want from the next year of my life:

BMI under 30 by the big 40. Not sure if this is doable. It's about 10% weight loss in 12 weeks. While that might not be a big deal for most people... I didn't get this way by eating small portions and exercising.
BMI under 25 by June 2012. Very reasonable. A slow steady 1 pound per week would get me there. The weight loss itself is reasonable, it's the motivation to stick with it that could cause problems.
Become physically active. I know this is a little nebulous, so I thought about what I really want to be able to do that would let me consider myself "fit". I want to be able to run. Not a marathon, but actually run for more than 30 seconds without dying. I want to be able to ride my bike 25 + miles on a weekend ride. And most importantly... I want to participate in one competitive sporting event before I'm 41.
I want to quit smoking. Quite frankly, I don't know how long I can continue smoking and trying to increase my activity level. My lungs give out long before my legs do.

Wow. I guess I have a lot on my mind this week about health. I know there's only a few friends reading, so I hope you don't mind if the blog turns in to long diatribes about struggles with health and being middle aged. But it's just where I'm at these days.

New Beginnings

2011-05-30T18:57:00.002-04:00

I've been in the new job for about a month now... and I'm still grinning from ear to ear every time I walk in to the building. Trying to keep up, learn, and make myself productive as soon as possible is stressful - but nothing compared to the stress I was under with the old job. This weekend Chey commented that I was being very supportive (I know it was a joke - but I also know that it's true - I'm not the same person I was 3 months ago), the Mayor said over breakfast on Sunday how much happier I am, and Baron has been thrilled at how calm I've been, and been home in time to make dinner every night!

I'm a little taken aback... I must have been a stark raving bitch while I was caught up in the misery and drama of the old job. But I'll take this as a new beginning. Time to focus on family, friends, and trying to take care of myself.

Now that I'm less stressed and on a normal sleep schedule for the first time in 2 years, it's time to start over on diet and exercise. No more excuses about being too tired to take care of myself.

I started this weekend by doing rides on local bike paths on Saturday and today. Saturday was out near Bolton with a friend and her sister. We logged about 7 miles. Beautiful, flat, gravel path. I was so in love with the bike path, I convinced Baron that we should do one out of Avon today. About 8.5 miles today - but I am so outta shape - the hills in Simsbury damn near killed me. Had to turn around, it was just too much for our first weekend out on the path. Of course I've been obsessed with the Greenway since our town voted to look at plans to connect with two adjacent towns - but this is the first weekend I've been out on the trails. Even Baron was impressed with how clean, well laid out and maintained they are.

Now to start back on eating less. I'd love to say "eating healthier" - but that's not the problem. I eat between 5-10 fruits and veggies a day. I get 2 servings of dairy (greek yogurt and a glass of Silk). I only eat red meat twice a month, and I only use olive oil, I pretty much gave up butter and other oils almost a year ago. But the sheer volume of food I eat is atrocious.

Sigh. I can't understand why diets never work for me. I'm starting WW with the Mayor this week. Well, we were supposed to start last week, but a friend who retired and moved to NYC was up for a few days, so I might have blown off WW to go to Sliders for beer and wings. Perhaps there's a connection between that and why I don't do well on diets? Hmmm....

Oh well. Here's to new beginnings. For great things to come for all the besties. We're all entering new phases in our lives. It's exciting, it's scary, but I'm glad I've always got you guys to hang out with on the journey.

Shhhhhhhhh!

2011-04-22T16:26:00.003-04:00

Don't tell anyone... but I LOVE my new job! I've only just started - half day on Wednesday, full day today. I feel like I can finally breathe again. Literally.

My first day, I asked my boss what she wants me to do, and I was told "Unpack, set up your desk, introduce yourself to everyone, and leave on time". Ummm, I don't know what to do with that. I told her so - I have to do SOMETHING. The reply "breathe. I'm not going to put pressure on you, you'll put enough on yourself".

So I'm breathing. Slowly. In and out. Finally realizing what a bad place my head has been at in terms of work. How that's been effecting my life. Grateful for my now 8 min commute to work. Thankful to see sunshine when I leave on time.

I even went for a quick bike ride with Baron when I got home today. Sigh.

I feel awful for my friends at the old job. They know something is wrong where they are. They know they're tired, having a hard time making it in to work, emotional, cranky, lethargic, having panic attacks. I wish I could take them all with me. But for now, I'm focusing on the ability to breathe again.

Boo!

2011-02-18T22:42:00.002-05:00

I'm back! I know, it's been a long time since I've posted anything, but here I am ready to rant and rave.

Things have heated up at work - the massively long lasting project that's been in development for almost 10 years is in the final sprint to production. Scheduled production date is mid-May. It should be a relief, it should be exhilarating, but... it's not. It's exhausting and frustrating. I usually like this period of time of a project - there's a lot of running around, long hours, fast pace, and I thrive on the adrenaline of it all.

But this is different. We've been working long hours for years, there's been a constant state of panic, we've had so many leadership changes in the last 16 months it's ridiculous - I think the total is 9 managers leaving since Dec 2009 (I heard about another one resigning today, but it's not officially confirmed yet). We are having a vendor change - so the vendor partners that built the system won't be here for implementation. It's review time, and our roles are being restructured with possible tier changes. A lot of change to deal with all at once, at a time when we really need to be focused on getting this product wrapped up and ready for delivery.

And we've been put on mandatory OT. 10+ hour days and weekends. Not a huge deal, to be expected. I average about 50 hours a week most weeks (no where near what many people put in on our project and in the dept) but I'm running between 65-70 hours a week right now. Still no where near what some of my coworkers are putting in.

But here's the ranting and raving part - there are some people that aren't putting in 40 hours. I'm tweaked about it. I know it's none of my business, my job is to do my job and feel like I've put in as much as I can to make the project successful. And yet - one person said that they were just going to log 50 hours a week in to the time sheet and keep working their normal 35 hours just so it keeps management off their back. This person won't have it reflected in their review. Or it might be in the review, but they'll go to HR claiming discrimination and get the ranking changed. Like it was the last time their performance was questioned.

Ugh! I'm just frustrated at the unbalance and unjustness of the situation. I see most of the people I work with sacrificing their personal lives, their "balance", pitching in to help out when someone needs it - even if it means another night without their family, and they are just dead exhausted on their feet - and a few are just taking advantage and coasting.

I should probably just call my mother in the morning - I think it's time to hear the "life isn't fair" lecture. Thanks for listening to me whine. I'm hoping I'll have something a little more positive to say soon!

Finally letting go

2010-11-01T13:19:00.002-04:00

The last few weeks have been a flurry of activity: scheduling the next cycle, getting IVF loan approval, selling the few stocks we had, figuring out how much it would cost - all in the name of "one last try".

And then...

Thursday was our 10 year anniversary. We started to realize how much time has been spent postponing our lives hoping for that magical day when we would be parents. We don't schedule vacations, because we've been saving for IVF, and we can never plan because we *might* get pregnant or have an infant then.

Friday Baron was discussing how very old we would be if we ever had a child. He'd be in his mid sixties by the time the mythical child graduated high school. We might now be around long enough to see mythical child get married and have children of their own.

We had a trick or treater last night that just broke my heart. She was severely mentally handicapped. Most likely one of the chromosome abnormalities that was present in our poor little embies. She was in her early teens, but couldn't say Trick or Treat. When I offered her to take what she'd like, her mother explained that the girl couldn't understand, I'd have to put the candy in the bucket for her. It made me really think hard about the types of abnormalities I'm carrying, and I just don't think I'm that strong.

My car broke down today, and I realized how very little emergency funds I was leaving us by going through another cycle that we'd be mostly paying for out of pocket.

It all boils down to, we're done. No more. Off the rollercoaster. Time to let go on the dream and figure out a new one. We've got a great marriage, great friends, and family we love. It's time for us to start living our lives and redefining who we are. We're not parents. I think we're shooting for the little old couple at the beginning of "Up". We'll have adventures, just not the ones we originally thought.

Sigh. It hurts. I know it's the right thing to do, but it hurts. I'm not good at giving up. I don't "fail" at anything I put my heart and soul in to. But we've tried, we've thrown money at it, we've placed our marriage in jeopardy more than once. It's time.

I called the IVF Loan people today to cancel the loan. I'm waiting for them to call me back. As soon as that's square I'll call and cancel with the doctor. Then I'm looking where we should book a mini vacation. We need one.

Cycle was canceled

2010-10-14T13:41:00.003-04:00

FUCK!!!!

Yup. That's the nicest thing I've got to say about that. We got the testing results back this afternoon. And it's been confirmed - I'm a genetic cesspool.

Out of the 8 that made it to biopsy for testing...

3 of the embryos had no results. The cell sample they sent had no nucleus to test.

1 girl had Trisomy 21 (Down's Syndrome)

1 girl had Trisomy 13

2 girls were missing a chromosome (Turner's Syndrome)

There was only one normal embryo - and it was a boy - with a 1 in 4 chance of fatality due to the Bilateral Renal Agenesis.

We're freezing the unknowns and the boy. They may be able to test the unknowns in the future (not in the next few weeks, but possible in a matter of months).

So... we're going to try to take out a loan and try one more cycle retrieving. If the genetics are still this crappy, well then we'll be working on saving up money for lots of nice vacations.

I'm going to spend the next few days licking my wounds, but hopefully back in the saddle in a few weeks.

The count down is on!

2010-10-12T06:14:00.003-04:00

I heard from the doctor's office yesterday and final count was 18 eggs, 16 were mature, 10 fertilized!

I'm excited, but trying not to get too excited - it gives us 10 fertilized eggs to work with... but... we're also doing gender selection. Please know that we're not doing gender selection for vanity reasons, we've lost two boys in the last 5 years due to a genetic condition that is 3 times more fatal in boys than girls. Unfortunately, they haven't isolated the gene that causes the condition (Bilateral Renal Agenesis)- but the odds of fatality with another male are about 1 in 4, the odds of fatality with a girl are 1 in 12. I know it's a tricky subject, so I appreciate your support, but ask that you keep any ethical concerns to yourself. Our doctors have agreed it is a valid medical reason and meets all ethical guidelines. Phew, now I've put that out there I feel a little better!

Transfer is scheduled for Friday. We're having testing preimplantation genetic testing done to screen for major chromosomal disorders and gender selection... and we're keeping our fingers crossed that we have enough good quality embryos - We're looking to transfer 2. I've gotten pregnant pretty easily on IUI with Clomid (pregnant 2 out of 3 tries), so I don't really want to take the chance with triplets. Based on my age they recommend 2-3 eggs embryos to transfer, so we're erring on the side of caution with only 2. Who knows? Maybe we'll have enough to do a second transfer if this cycle doesn't work.

Last night was our first progesterone shot (the one intramuscular shot that the baron has to give me)... and it was interesting. I bled a little from the shot, and guess who almost passed out? Hint - it wasn't me!

I'm doing good, a little cramping, trying to hydrate as much as possible with electrolytes to avoid OHSS, but I'm generally uncomfortable. There's a good chance of my working from home if I don't stop with the bloating soon. Yup, I'm not above calling in "fat and nothing to wear" to work!

Retrieval Update

2010-10-10T12:36:00.002-04:00

Today's blog is brought to you by the number 18!!!! That's not a typo. Eighteen. Retrieval went really well, they were able to retrieve 18 eggs. I'm still a little dopey from the anesthesia, so this may be a little disjointed, but it went well. Tomorrow we should find out how many fertilized, and Friday we'll do the transfer.

On a strange karma / good omen note... One of Dad's friends from India posted pictures of him this morning. How weird is that? It was such perfect timing, it's like he was watching over us today.

Headed to the couch to go back to sleep, but wanted to share the good day...

Holy Follies!!!

2010-10-05T15:52:00.002-04:00

I couldn't wait until I get home to share... I have NINE little follicles ready to go! They said I needed at least 4 that measured over 1.0cm to continue on to retrieval... and I've got 4 that are almost at 1.5, another 4 are over 1.0, and 1 little guy that's at .96

It looks like I'm responding very well to the meds and egg retrieval may take place this weekend.

I'm scared to even say it...but I'm feeling really good about the whole thing.

Just a Fly-by

2010-10-04T18:39:00.005-04:00

Quick update for the inquiring minds...

Lupron suppression part of the cycle sucked. I was depressed, "flat", and it was a general preview of menopause. Blech.

I'm on all the stimulation meds now and going for blood work and testing every other day. Compared to the suppression meds... stim meds rock! Yeah, I look like a pincushion, I'm bruised all over my stomach from the injections, my arms look those of a junkie, I'm bloated beyond belief, I'm exhausted - but mentally/emotionally - I feel great!

Things of note with the shots:
- They give you a drawing where you're supposed to inject... luckily, I have a huge fat roll right there, no chance of missing the spot 2 inches below the belly button
- My arms really do look like a junkie's. I went for blood work yesterday, and they refused to take blood from the good arm because it's too bruised and they wanted it to have a few days to heal - but the "bad" arm has veins that always jump and collapse, so it looks twice as bad as the good arm after one blood draw
- The first night on all the stim meds took me an hour to figure out how to do all the shots, it's down to about 15 mins now
- I've only been on the stim meds since Thursday, and I'm really bloated. If my stomach expands too much more, I'm going to start calling in fat/nothing to wear to work

Tomorrow is the first appointment where they'll be able to see how many little follicles are growing, keep your fingers crossed! I'm having nightmares that there won't be enough eggs to do the retrieval and this will all be for naught, but there's no sense worrying about things that are out of my control.

Off to nap and stab myself a few more times. Hopefully this time next week I'll be scheduled for retrieval and down to just one shot a day. Right now I'm on 3, and I'm running out of space to inject that isn't already bruised.

Do you ever have that dream?

2010-09-19T16:02:00.002-04:00

You know, the one where you're back in college and the final is tomorrow and you forgot to study for it? That's the anxiety I'm feeling this weekend.

Tomorrow I go for a round of blood work, and if the numbers confirm that I've ovulated, I start my Lupron at night.

For those who have asked, here's the schedule

9/20 - Blood work and if ovulation has occurred, start Lupron injections at night. 10 units every night until period starts

Once I get my period, I call the office and schedule baseline ultrasound and blood work. Continue taking 10 units of Lupron until the confirm Lupron has suppressed my ovaries.

Once suppression has been confirmed, I drop to 5 units of Lupron every night, 300 mg Follistim every morning, 150 mg of Menopur every night. Ultrasound and blood work every 2-3 days until day of retrieval.

HCG trigger shot and then egg retrieval.

Start taking doxycyline and Medrol every day for 3 days (day of and after retrieval).

Here's the Baron's big part...... day of retrieval he needs to provide a "fresh sample". He's got it rough.

They fertilize the eggs the day of retrieval, and based on the results of fertilization, I'll start progesterone shots the day after retrieval.

The fertilized eggs will all have a single cell taken from them and sent to Reprogenetics for genetic testing.

Hopefully, based on the results of the test, the fertilized eggs chosen will be transferred on Day 5 after retrieval.

Progesterone shots continue. They will do a pregnancy test approx 2 weeks after retrieval (might be a few days longer, as they usually do transfers 3 days after retrieval, but testing will mean 5 days for me).

And then we wait. If everything goes well, we still have a 4 1/2 month wait (18 week ultrasound) before we know everything is ok. Oh yes, and they tell me that at some point they do stop the progesterone shots, but that may be up to 4 weeks, depending on how the numbers are looking.

I haven't even reviewed the slideshows on shot injections again - I'm so not prepared for the shots to begin. Wish us luck!!!!

Boiling Bunnies

2010-08-28T09:45:00.003-04:00

Rosehawk has a phrase... when things are going haywire, PMS is the driving force in your life, and you know you're not reacting appropriately, you're not just hormonal - you're Glenn Close/Fatal Attraction boiling-bunnies type of crazy.

That's about where I've been at for a week. But time with Chey and Rosehawk last night calmed me down. Yes, it's a roller coaster ride, it's a out of my control, but what the hell - we've been talking about it so long, I'm going to revel in the fact that it's finally here. Rosehawk's ever calm demeanor, Chey's enthusiasm at the chemistry and facts and figures, Captain's Wife's encouragement... ok, you guys win.

Not making any big promises, but I'm gonna try to pull my head out of my ass and embrace it. I'm so bad at change and lack of control, I need a slap every once in a while to pull myself together.

I think this sums up where I'm at...

Qbert

2010-08-25T22:33:00.004-04:00

Meet Qbert. Baron and I spent a lovely afternoon poking holes in poor Qbert. Seriously, 3 hours of learning how to inject myself with needles. I will be injecting myself (or having Baron inject me) for oh... if things go well, approx 4-5 weeks. It will start in less than a month, and I'm panicked. Sorry I didn't call anyone after class, I'm drained.

Project Bindle has begun, I wrote a check for almost $8000, learned how to jab myself with a needle, I'm picking up my meds on Saturday (another $4000)- now we just need to cross our fingers and hang on for the roller coast ride.

I hate this. I hate feeling so out of control, so vulnerable, and so overwhelmed. There were 3 other couples in the class and when the nurse started talking about everyone's medication regiment, I was the only one on 5 different medications, everyone else only had 2 or 3. The nurse kept pointing out everything that would be "different" about my cycle. Five minutes in to the class I almost lost it. Tears welling up in my eyes as she's explaining how I'm the only one on 2 different forms of FSH. I'm the only one on a Lupron cycle, blah, blah, blah. It wasn't the nurse's fault, she was very nice about it and explained that about half their patients are on the same course of meds, etc, etc. Didn't help. I still felt old, defective, damaged.

And I only brought 1 orange. Everyone else brought 2. It made me feel stupid. Like I failed the preparedness portion of the test. I won't be a good mother, because it didn't occur to me that I should bring 2 oranges to the injectibles class. I could feel the shame color my face crimson when I saw everyone had 2, but we only had lonely Qbert. How screwed up is that? They said to bring an orange, and I brought one. Yes, we only needed 1 - even practicing all afternoon, we only needed the one orange - it's not like we went all Hellraiser/Pinhead on Qbert. But that's not the point. I hate feeling like the odd duck. It sounds ridiculous, but there you have it. I feel like I failed because I brought one perfect orange. I spent 15 mins trying to pick out the right one in the grocery store, and it just never dawned on me to bring two.

On a good note, Baron handled it much better than I thought he would. We've been fighting all week - mostly because he's making jokes about it, and I'm scared out of my mind. And everyone knows, a scared Moosh is a bitchy Moosh! When he saw all of the different medications, and that he only has to give me the one medication toward the end of the process (only one is intramuscular, the rest are subcutaneous) he relaxed, and didn't look like he was going to pass out when practicing on Qbert (mostly. He did go a little pale, but I was expecting worse).

Wow, guess I'm just rambling. That's the update. Push came to shove, and I'm scared out of my freakin' mind. I can try to paint a pretty face on it, it's all for the best, it's better to try than not, no regrets - but it still is nerve wracking. All I keep thinking is - $15,000 to $20,000, major medical intervention, and it's all for a 1 in 12 chance *if* I manage to get pregnant. I am out of my effin gourd going through this. I should have just spent the money on new floors and getting the bathroom fixed.

If I don't call, or freeze up when the subject comes up, know it's not you. It's me. I'm trying to keep the house afloat, Baron's income is still unpredictable, I'm very worried about my job, and I'm spending every last dime we have on a dream. I'm flying by the seat of my pants, and I'm a planner and a control freak. This isn't good for me. I'm fighting back tears of panic almost every second of the day, and trying not to let anyone see the chinks in the armor. But I'll work my way out of it, starting with drinks with two of my favorite people on Friday!

My wife went to India and all I got was this lousy god...

2010-03-10T12:16:00.006-05:00

Sorry Baron, had to be done. The thought cracked me up. Why don't they sell t-shirts that say that?

Today we knocked off work 1/2 hour early to go do some shopping. What an experience! I'm so not used to bargaining, and doing it in a mall? A mall, normal mall stores where you could haggle the price. Not sure where this post is going - but, yes I finally did some shopping. If I didn't get you a present, I'm sorry, I was overwhelmed by it all. I tried to remember those I promised gifts to, but I didn't have my list. Here's the loot...

I remembered family, the Partners in Crime and their kids, Ms. Fabulous and the Fabulous Girls, Baron, a couple of things for me (although I want it all!), and a few very small tchokes. I could have shopped for days, but haggling starts to wear you down after a very short period of time, so my apologies if you don't get something amazing. I ran out of time, money, and stamina! I wish I had bought presents for everyone I care about. Ugh, it's like Christmas, I want to buy something for everyone, but there's got to be a limit somewhere.

All I could think about on the ride back to the hotel was ordering up some room service. I've eaten nothing but Indian food for a week (gladly and without hesitation) and my American sensibilities finally took over...

Fries and beer baby!!! Of course the hotel room service mgr convinced me I couldn't have just that, so he sent bread and broth with it. Didn't touch it, wanted fries and beer! If there was just basketball on my night would be complete. I'm such a delicate flower.

Going to try to head to bed before midnight tonight. Ms. Fabulous, if you're reading - stop trying to pick out which presents are yours!!!!!

You know, the one with the arms...

2010-03-09T13:12:00.006-05:00

If you're easily offended, please stop reading now. I know it's wrong. But it's funny.

A long, long, time ago... I was in a knowledge transfer session to train offshore developers for a week with one of my dearest friends, Chey. We were younger then, and trying to figure out our place in the corporate world. Most of the other people attending were mid level managers, and we were trying to be on our best behavior, dressing professionally, not making waves, being good little do-bees.

We had just completed a session on cultural sensitivity. We're outside having a smoke, talking about our fascination and admiration of Indian culture... and I couldn't remember the name of a Hindu god. I started waving my arms around and saying, "You know, the one with the arms".

Chey stared at me in horror, and said "Oh my god, that's like walking up to a Christian and saying you know, this guy", tilting her head to the side, arms raised as if on a cross, and with her feet criss crossed, and tongue sticking out (not exactly the crucifix they had hanging in catholic school, but a pretty good resemblance). I still can't think about it without my spewing laughter. You know, this guy!

Not one of my more politically correct moments, but you have to picture the two of us trying so hard to be professional, wearing our best corporate wear...imitating various gods and religions in the parking lot.

Anyway, tomorrow we're going shopping at Leela Palace. How do I tell our very sweet, kind, hospitable host that what I really need to find is a little statue of a Hindu god - because it's funny. Not the statue, not the religion, but the memory of the two goofballs who are pushing forty but still acting like idiots the second The Man has his back turned?

A few more pics

2010-03-07T19:42:00.001-05:00

http://s69.photobucket.com/albums/i60/mattimoosh/Sunday%20in%20India/

Look, Cow!

2010-03-06T21:56:00.005-05:00

It's now Sunday morning and of course I'm wide awake at 7:00AM. I didn't fall asleep until 1:00, and six hours later I'm bright eyed and bushy tailed. But it's getting better, 6 hours sleep instead of 4 or 5!

Before I give a full run down of Saturday in Mysore, I'd like to overshare for a minute (c'mon, you're all used to it from me). Everyone is very concerned about having Traveler's Stomach issues if they visit a country like India. What almost no one will tell you is that between the different food, lack of sleep, body adjustment, the issue is the exact opposite what you expect. Thank you, thank you, and thank you - Captain's Wife warned me of this, and I packed medication to deal with just such an issue. Of course I didn't want to take it for the first two days, because I refuse to use public restrooms. And a public restroom in a foreign country? Nope, never happen. Never. Anyway...knowing that we had Sunday to rest and relax with no plans, I took my Ambien to try to get a full night's sleep, and then I took my Colace.

Then the full horror of what I had just done sank in. I took Ambien and Colace at the same time. OMG!!!! What was I thinking??? I briefly considered inducing vomiting, but I decided to live on the wild side - because I really need to sleep, and I really need to poop. That was the Ambien talking "Eh, what's the worse thing that could happen - are there any cookies in this room?". Luckily there were no ill side effects, but I really need to be careful on Ambien - smart choices are not made, even on only half a pill.

Yesterday we had breakfast in the hotel, and then headed out to Mysore with two of our offshore coworkers that graciously volunteered to be hosts and guides for the day. What a way to travel - having travel companions that are local show you the ropes is quite the experience. They keep you from overpaying, make sure you stay in only neighborhoods, direct the driver, and show you the best places to eat, as well as make suggestions on things you have to try.

Mysore is about 2.5 hours from the hotel in Bangalore. I don't have nearly the number of pictures I would like - they don't let you take a camera inside the palace - and they have you check it at the gate of the grounds. The palace is surrounded by gardens and Hindu temples. Fun fact - shoes and socks aren't allowed in the palace (or the temples). You have to check your shoes at a stand outside the palace. I really wish I had taken the time to get a pedicure before traveling. I can't possibly do justice to the history or description of the palace, but I found their website. http://www.mysorepalace.in/mysore_palace.htm. The pictures of all of the cows were taken at Chamundi Hills, and the temple at the top http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chamundi_hills

So what about the cows? Why are there so many pictures of them?

Because there are cows roaming around everywhere! I don't mean in picturesque little pastures in the outskirts of cities, I mean everywhere... in the streets, parking lots, on the grass medians and sidewalks in the city of Bangalore (a city of approx. 8 million people). Cows. And they're brazen beasts... the picture above was taken at the temple at Chamundi Hills. Outside the temple they sell little baskets filled with items for offering to the goddess Chamundeeswari. The baskets have coconut, flowers, and bananas. Apparently cows like bananas, this guy was climbing up the steps to get to and offering basket that was unattended. Yes, the locals think you're nuts for wanting to take pictures of every cow that you see. But there are cows - everywhere!!!

I'll post a little later today about food, glorious food - but it's time to hit the shower, explore the hotel a little and see if I can get my room switched to one with a balcony.

More Pics

2010-03-06T13:52:00.003-05:00

A post will follow in the morning. Tonight it's Ambien and a hope for 8 hours of sleep. My only complaint (which is pretty minor) is the jet lag, I haven't slept for more than 5 hours each night. It's not debilitating, but it's noticeable. No plans for tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep as much as possible.

http://s69.photobucket.com/albums/i60/mattimoosh/India%202010%20-%20Mysore/

I'm rich biatch!

2010-03-05T12:49:00.004-05:00

Have you ever withdrawn 10,000 from an ATM? It's nerve racking. Lammie is holding 10,000 INR. 10,000!!!! I've checked the exchange rate four times since the transaction because it's made me so nervous... and it's true. I just took out approximately $220USD. Phew!

Q & A Time!

Q: How's the food?

A: Excellent. Yes, it's spicy, but it's delish!

Q: No, seriously - how's the food?

A: Really, I'm eating nothing but Indian food. Yes, I've stayed away from the pickled things, I already know I don't like the taste (tastes like pickled ass - just ask Rosehawk!). I'm also avoiding lamb - I've had a lamb allergy/reaction since I was a baby. I wanted to test the theory that you can grow out of allergies, but I didn't think of it until a few days before I left - and I don't want to try it when I'm not sure I can get to a decent medical facility, so I'm abstaining. Which is a shame, because it smells yummy. They do have other types of food - our hotel serves Indian, Lebanese, and Italian. I've tried the Lebanese food, and I'm a big fan. Warm beet salad is one of my new favorites. I have not tried the Italian...because it would feel like I'm cheating if I travel all this way to eat Pagliacci's. I did notice that they have a Domino's in the city, as well as Baskin Robbins. I may break down and violate my policy of only Indian food for a little ice cream.

Q: Are you drinking the water?

A: Nope. Well, I've forgotten twice already - drank tap water at work and brushed my teeth this morning in the tap water. There's a good chance I'll wind up with some form of stomach issue before the trip is through.

Q: Do they have bathroom facilities?

A: Yes, but they are different. There's a bidet in the hotel room, and the bathroom at work had a removable shower head on the wall - at seat height. I'm not sure what that's all about, but I suspect it serves the same purpose as the bidet.

Q: Do you have malaria yet?

A: Not yet, but I'm being eaten alive by mosquitos. Yes, I have the special spray for my clothes. Yes, I'm using tons of repellant with DEET. Baron and I will probably never have children at the rate I'm using DEET, but I can't seem to stop the bugs. And yes, I'm taking the Maladrone, but it doesn't necessarily prevent Malaria, just mostly.

Q: Are you using the hand sanitizer I gave you for Christmas?

A: Yes Auntie, I'm using tons of it.

Q: How does it feel to be a cultural minority?

A: Very odd. I feel grossly large and like an ugly American. The majority of the Indian women are very petite, and beautifully dressed in rich jewel tones, with lots of bling. I left my jewelry at home for fear of losing it. International travel is not for those with self-esteem issues!

Q: Back to the food - really? It's okay?

A: Yup, it's still really good. There's rice with everything, generally a very mild Basmati. There's flat bread with everything. Of course there are a lot of curries, but the spiciest seem to be the vegetarian meals - and I've been eating those too. Our hosts have been ordering relatively mild spices for our meals, but there is still a fair amount of spice/heat. It's completely worth any potential tummy issues to see how pleased they are when you're adventurous and try a little of everything. I may be the only person I know who goes to a developing nation and gains 10lbs eating only local cuisine. Please see the previous question, it's not helping my self-esteem issues :)

Big tourist day today, so hopefully I will have many stories to tell when I get back.

More Pics from India

2010-03-05T12:22:00.002-05:00

Having a hard time loading the pics, but this should get you to them

http://s69.photobucket.com/albums/i60/mattimoosh/India%202010/

I'm in India!!

2010-03-05T11:31:00.004-05:00

And the room is beautiful. Seriously beautiful. And they left me a towel elephant strewn with rose petals. Sigh. I could get used to living like this.

So could Lammie...

Day 2 - the brief rundown...

- Woke up at 4:30. Jet lag sucks.
- But it was not in vain, can anyone say "Room Service at a 4 star hotel"??? Yea!
- After a leisurely breakfast of a full fruit platter (papaya, guava, pinapple, strawberries, coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice, wheatberry toast, egg white omelette with tomato headed off to work
- Wow. Traffic in Bangalore is ridonculous. Thank gawd we have a driver and I can close my eyes in the backseat - the 15 km trip takes between 1 - 1 1/2 hours.
- The offshore team is incredibly warm and hospitable, we met for approx 5 hours setting up our work stations, meeting the team, chatting.
- Lunch! Yup, I'm eating only Indian food while I'm here. Not going half way around the world to eat McDonald's! Good thing I like spicy food...
- Oops. I accidentally drank tap water. They put it out with the lunch. It's 8 hours and no ill effects as of yet. Living life on the edge my first full day in a foreign country.
- Worked for another 7 hours. The offshore team are workaholics! Actually, the atmosphere is completely different. The work is longer but slower paced - they work incredibly long hours - no one leaves before 6, and they usually work until 8, but there isn't a real sense of urgency. That's probably been the biggest culture shock, no one is ranting or raving, just steadily plugging away at work.
- 8pm - another harrowing commute through Bangalore. Interesting side note - I can't figure out the use of car horns. They are constantly blaring, it's almost like punctuation... but no one is yelling at each other. It's a very polite impatience, almost like using the horn to say "Excuse me, I'd just like to let everyone know my vehicle is here and I'm traveling. Thank you and have a good day". But they do it every minute or two.
- Got back to the hotel a little before 9pm. No dinner tonight, just this delightful treat that was left in my room.

Okay, I'm off for a cup of tea and some sleep. Hopefully I'll post more details in the morning! I have many stories, but I'm too tired to think straight.

Some days you're the seagull, Some days you're the quahog

2009-11-09T19:16:00.003-05:00

Today is one of the "quahog" days - when something lifts you up in the air, you're feeling great, only to be smashed against the rocks and left to the carrion eaters.

Mom was supposed to be visiting a friend for a few days this week. I was going to have peace and quiet for 3 days. I made my arrangements for work - Thursday and Friday, half days from home. I'd be done with work by 10-10:30 in the morning, and have the days free to spend at my leisure (sleep, read, play computer games, ignore housework, go out to lunch...)

Nope, not happening. She messed up the weeks - it's not until next week. When I have a major migration of code at work and expect to be working obnoxious hours. I'll be lucky if I'm home by 7 or 8 most nights next week.

Ugh! I'm feeling the need for margaritas and rock band soon - who's with me???

The Horror that is Facebook (aka Pining for Anonymity)

2009-06-14T13:15:00.006-04:00

It's been a strange week here in Mooshland. 3 odd encounters via FB. Everyone's had them - when all of the sudden voices from your past crawl out of the woodwork. I'm usually pleasantly surprised by those voices, it brings me back to happy memories of my youth. But every once in a while... they throw me for a loop.

Encounter 1

Senior Prom Date (now known as SPD). Ack! Seriously? Does anyone actually want to be reminded of high school? SPD was a nice guy, we were good friends, neither of us had a date, so went as buddies. SPD kinda freaked out, wasn't having a good time, and left me sans ride home at the prom. That's a harsh version - truth is, I probably was caught up in my own little world, and didn't notice that he wasn't having a good time, and should have paid more attention. I got an email from him this week apologizing. I apologized right back. I missed having SPD as a friend - he's smart, funny, and seems to be leading a fabulous life traveling and carousing. It silly though - before he said something, I was nervous about posting prom pics - was worried I'd get a reply to take them down or that he was still angry about it. Sigh. How is it possible 20 years later the thought of high school still makes me insecure?

Encounter 2

This one isn't much of an encounter, but still a shock. Senior year and in to college, I was best friends with a girl (hmm... she always wore Scarlett Gold lipstick, so we'll call her Scarlett). In college, she went to schools out of state, and I stayed around here. We started to drift apart. And she wrote me a break up letter listing every single personality and character flaw of mine. Everything she said was true, but it was mean, petty and spiteful. We were already drifting apart, there was no need for a big final ending. I guess she needed closure, or to feel self righteous. Whatever. It hurt at the time, but I never replied or acknowledged it when I saw her around town. I was pleasant, said hi, but never stopped to chat. She's the big reason I have never gone to the reunions. This week she friended me. No note, just a friend request, and true to form, I just accepted with no email. Polite acknowledgment. (In case you're wondering what the character flaws were - they're the same as they are now. I'm not a great friend. I can't stand high maintenance friendships. I don't return all phone calls, only when I feel like talking. I'm sarcastic, which comes off mean. My caustic humor unintentionally hurts people, and I don't realize it.) I really did think high school was over, but apparently I'm doomed to repeat it this week. And I feel just as awkward as I did 20 years ago.

Encounter 3

This is the one that's really thrown me for a loop. Most of you know that "Dad" was my step father. Dad was in my life for 30 years, he raised me, and I shared more in common with him than anyone else in my family. Well, there was a Bio-Dad at one point in time. We didn't really know or understand each other very well. Once a month visits, always awkward, full of angst and heartbreak all around. By the time I was 18, we had very little contact with one another. I still tried to see some of his family, but they always wanted to fix our relationship, and by the time I was 21, I stopped all contact with them. Including my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and the 9 cousins. It was nothing personal, just easier to stop contact than to keep trying to fix a relationship that wasn't making anyone happy. The last semi- contact I had with anyone from that side of the family was sneaking in to the funeral home to pay my respects when my grandfather died a few years ago. Oh sure, every couple of years I run in to someone who knows a member of the family (especially because a few of them work in the same industry) and puts the names together, but nothing's ever come of it. A few vague comments and people get the hint that the topic isn't really up for discussion.

Anyway, I'm one of 10 cousins. The oldest. There are 3 of that are within 14 months in age. Cousin #2 lives out of state, but we got along the best. I think of her frequently, and would probably look her up if it didn't mean opening the door to the whole family. No ill wishes toward the fam, just have no idea what I'd say to any of them, and no need for the mythical closure that everyone seems to seek out these days. Cousin #3 lives in state. You may have heard me refer to her in conversations as "The Pincher". We did not get along. Polar opposites. She was loud, hyper, and constantly pinching or hitting. I was quiet and shy, which labeled me stuck up to the rest of the fam. She would cause trouble, and I would get yelled at for it, because I was the oldest.

Guess which one hit me up on FB yesterday? That's right, The Pincher. An email about how she loves me, misses me, and didn't tell anyone in the family that she contacted me, so we can keep it between just us (and now the 3 of you who read the blog). What the heck do I say to her? I haven't spoken to her in approx 20 - 25 years. I have no idea who she is. I'm assuming she grew out of the habit of pinching people, because let's face it - that's the kind of social awkwardness people notice when we're pushing 40, but still! That's the characteristic I remember most vividly about her.

And what's with co-conspirator nonsense? Any family member could find me easily enough, I'm not hiding. I live less than 20 miles from where I grew up, most of my relatives still live in the area, it's not like I joined the Peace Corps and live in Uganda. Not to mention, I have a coworker that is very close friends with Bio-Dad, she announced this my first day in the department 12 years ago. She was very bouncy about the whole thing, but backed off a day or two later, I'm guessing Bio-Dad told her he wasn't really interested in the relationship either (no offense to the coworker or Bio-Dad. Coworker has been graceful enough to never mention it again after that first week, and again, I don't harbor any ill will toward Bio-Dad, I just don't know him). How do I reply? If I ignore, I'm a bitch for not replying, and the family just keeps thinking what they've always thought of me. If I reply, it opens a door that I thought was shut, locked, and the key lost in a river somewhere.

Encounter 4

I may have said there were only 3, but I lied. I repeatedly have someone trying to friend me, but I have no idea who they are. After the 5th friend request, and hitting "ignore" once again, I did a little digging. It's someone I met on a message board after we lost the babies. I'm not sure how she got my real name - maybe she's friending everyone in her email list? I don't know how I feel about this. Yes, we had the losses, and at the time it was easier for me to talk to people over the Internet than to talk to my friends and family who shared my pain. I spent a lot of time on a particular message board for people who had second and third trimester losses due to genetic conditions. I only vaguely remember this person, but I really don't have a great memory of that time in my life. But we got through it. The Baron and I are in a good place now. We've accepted the losses as part of our life, but it isn't our whole lives. I admire people who take something like this and try to champion a meaningful cause as a way to turn the pain in to something positive, but that's not me. When we first had the losses, I participated in a few groups, but something Dad said resonated with me. We were sitting in my parent's backyard, having a drink, and he said "I'd hate to see this become your whole life and what defines you as a person. You have a lot of living left to do". I took it to heart (he sure was a smart guy!). It's part of me, but it's not all of me. I think the same might not be true for this person. I guess I'll just keep politely declining. I hope all is well for her, and that she has found something to give her life meaning, but I'm in a different place.

To recap: I feel like a fish out of water this week. Every little sticking point is rearing it's ugly head - High School, College, Bio-Family, the losses. Ugh. I really wish I had my anonymity back. Today I think I preferred the world before FB - when I could remain slightly distanced and observe rather than participate. I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow.

Wow! I had a lot to say! I go 6 weeks without posting, and now I'm a chatterbox.

I'm in L-O-V-E

2009-04-25T16:47:00.004-04:00

Say hello to Madeline, my new bike! When I was just a little pigtailed girl, my paternal grandmother wanted me to have a bike at her house to ride around the neighborhood. She had one in her shed that belonged to one of my aunts or uncles, was over 20 years old, rusted, and beat up. She slapped a coat of fire engine red spray paint on it, and decided we should name it Rusty Jones. Ever since, I've named every form of transportation I've owned. My first 10 speed bike was Wildfire (what can I say, it was the late 70's - I wanted a horse, but alas, all my parents could afford was a schwinn). My first car was Mooshbomb. My first VW was Moosh. My Cabrio was a little more fancy than the Golf, so she was named Matisse. Now that I'm old and own my first four door vehicle, her name is Matilde (but don't let the name fool ya - she's the turbo version, so she can still hit 100 in a flash).

Madeline is my first grown up bicycle. We spent the afternoon at Biker's Edge and both the Baron and I got Treks. I am over the moon excited, riding around the neighborhood makes me feel like I'm back in pigtails, pretending my bike is a horse, and I'm a fairy princess riding off in to the sunset on Wildfire.

Borrowing a phrase from the Captain's Wife - I Puffy Heart my new bike!

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T17:35:00.004-04:00

My most favoritest of all the holidays! I've mentioned before that Baron's family is very Polish, right? Oh... the smorgasboard of cured meat is amazing! 2 kinds of kielbasa from Martin Rosol's, ham, coleslaw, and a few glasses of wine (hic!). Possibly more than a few glasses, but Baron was driving (hic!) Okay, maybe it was a full bottle (hic!). And not one of those wimpy little 2 1/2 glass bottles.

A lovely time was had by all. I was NOT the Harbinger of Death for this holiday. I had a conversation with Auntie C, and didn't mention a single person dying (yes, my Gram had passed since the last time I saw them, but it didn't come up in conversation - a major victory (refer to this post if you have no idea what I'm talking about

I had too much to drink and hung out with Baron's twentysomething cousins. Love those girls - they are fantastic! We got on to the subject of FB, and I promised to friend them as soon as I got home (which I did). Baron's nephew still wants to come and visit for a weekend, which we promised soon. All in all, a sense of family, friendship, good conversation, and did I mention good wine?

Sigh. This is what family is supposed to be about (hic!). Only mildly dysfunctional and anesthetized by alcohol.

I'm off to go take a nap on the couch. Did I ever mention that I'm an "I love you man" breed of drunk?

Happy Easter

2009-04-11T12:44:00.001-04:00

Just a quick hop by (get it? Hop? Like a bunny?) to spread a little Easter joy with my favorite commercial. Makes me smile every time...

Gram

2009-03-16T20:40:00.003-04:00

My Grandmother passed away 2 weeks ago. She had been ill for years, and these last few years have been full of trips to the hospital, convalescent home, doctors, and misery. Since Memorial Day she’s been going steadily downhill. Loss of appetite and sick for a week, a trip to the emergency room, admitted to the hospital, transfer to a convalescent home, back to the emergency room 36 hrs after going to the convalescent home, another admission to the hospital for three weeks while they searched for something to fix. Transferred permanently to a nursing home in July, three more trips to the hospital through the fall, an infection that caused such severe dementia she was sent to a mental health facility on Christmas Day. Four weeks later transferred back to the nursing home. Admitted to the hospital the last week of February, and we finally said enough. Enough poking and prodding. Enough strapping her to a bed to give her treatment she didn’t want. She was sent back to the nursing home and died 5 days later on March 1st.

For most people, the word “grandmother” conjures up images of a 50’s wife in an apron, baking cookies and knitting. Not for me. Yes, my gram made cookies. Yes, she knitted, crocheted, and quilted. But to me, she was so much more. She was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever spent time with; she was irreverent, funny, crafty, intellectual, and a little bit kooky.

When I was little, my mom and I lived on the second floor of my grandparent’s two family house. I saw both of my grandparents almost every day until we moved out when I was nine. I spent Saturday mornings with my grandmother watching Nova, Dr. Who, and In Search Of on PBS.

Things I will always remember about her:

• She loved Star Trek
• She found people who were a little different interesting
• She was always learning, if she didn’t know about something, she read about it, or tried to learn how to do it. She was always a student at heart.
• Her favorite artist was Georgia O’Keefe, and she was the first person to explain to me why the painter was so “controversial”. (Which is a very comfortable conversation to have with your grandmother - NOT!)
• She loved art, history, and music.
• She was fascinated by Native American culture
• She was an avid reader, and always wanted to know what I was reading
• Out of all my friends who met her, Ellen held a special place in her heart, she always asked about her and Steven.
• She loved Scottie, and held his hand in our wedding photos
• She made the best apple pies, and mine are only ½ as good as hers, even though it’s the same recipe
• She taught me the secret to great pie crust – ice cold water. Put ice cubes in the water to keep it cold. Don’t overwork the dough.
• She always encouraged my creative endeavors, even when no one else understood (building a TARDIS out of a huge cardboard box, egg cartons, and lots of odds and ends when I was 6 or 7 was a worthwhile pursuit for a child.. Sorry Mom, it wasn’t a spaceship, it was a TARDIS. For those who don’t know what it is – go ahead and google. You’ll know I was a strange kid!)
• She taught me to make dyes from fruits and vegetables when I was 10, and we used the dye to make tie-dyed shirts.
• She had the greenest thumb in CT – her tomatoes were legendary, and her rose bushes were beautiful.
• She taught me how to plant tulip bulbs. The points go toward the top, like praying hands.
• She made the driest turkey in the world, much to the amusement of the rest of the family. I swear, she would put the turkey in the oven at 5:00pm the night before at 200 degrees. When my aunt started cooking Thanksgiving dinner, Gram would never fail to call her turkey “wet”. To the rest of the world, that would be known as MOIST
• She made absolutely magic chicken soup. It could cure whatever ailed you.
• Whenever she had company, she always wore lipstick. Bright. Red. Shocking. Lipstick. I can’t remember how many I bought her over the years, trying to find her perfect shade of “true red”.
• She always had a million crafting projects going at once.
• She loved UCONN Women’s basketball, and loved watching UCONN/TN games

I know the last few years though her illnesses, especially at the end were extremely tough on everyone in the family. It was hard to watch her when she just wasn’t herself anymore, and her illnesses took away her eyesight, her mobility, her memory, her books, her crafting, her projects, her gardening, and every activity she loved. But I’ll always remember her as she was when I was growing up. I miss you Gram.

Special thank yous to Rosehawk and Chey, who are always there. Always, usually with chocolate and alcohol in hand. Love you guys.

Good night dog poop!

2009-03-15T19:44:00.003-04:00

First, apologies to Chey. I do have enough of a nodding acquaintance with social niceties to know that yelling "Crap! Crap! Crappity Crap! I've got a, um, well, a mess to deal with here" and hanging up is not the appropriate way to end a pleasant conversation with a friend.

But let me explain. The Baron has been having a really tough time at work. Very tough time at work. He works at a small start up company that takes support calls for *insert an in depth explanation of some form of technology that helps many companies here*. There are only 3 guys that take the calls, and they bust their patooties every day. Nights, weekends, you name it, they're on it. One of the guys is out on medical leave, so the Baron and his coworker are each putting in their normal days/nights/weekends/ plus taking on the workload of the guy out of the office.

Last night we had plans to go out with Chey and the Salesman for dinner and a movie. We were psyched, it's been months, and they are our Most Preferred Couple (just think Most Favored Nation status). It's 5:10 pm, I've just finished putting the dog in the kitchen for the night, we're about to leave. The phone rings. It's a support call. I call MPC and inform them we may be late. At 5:45, I know it's going to be a late night for the Baron, I call MPC back and make our apologies, our big night out is not going to happen. The Baron finally finishes up on the support call around midnight.

At 9:00 am, the Baron is back at it - same customer, still working through the issue. I say to myself "Self, you should do something nice for the Baron. It's only been 2 days that the other guy has been on medical leave, and it's going to be a long 6-8 weeks for the Baron". I start prepping homemade french onion soup, the Baron's favorite meal. It's something I don't make very often, because it's over an hour of prep, and 4 hours cook time. Luckily, I had plenty to do while the soup is simmering, because Wuffles (our adorable bulldog) has suddenly developed an interdigital cyst, and I have to soak his foot in warm epsom salt treatments until it clears up.

At 6 pm, we sit down to eat. I'm tired, I'm cranky, I've barely seen Baron all weekend, I smell like wet dog, and I've been diligently cleaning the bathroom, because the foot soak inevitably leads to Wuffles running around the bathroom soaking wet and getting in to general trouble while I try to calm him down. And dammit, I do not want to step on leftover dog cookies in the bathroom, so in addition to wiping down the tub and the walls each time I soak his foot, I have to sweep and spot clean the floor. But I digress... dinner was wonderful, the Baron was extremely appreciative, and we've settled in to watch Bracketology, because it's March Madness, baby!

And the phone rings. I see it's Chey, I pick up, and we have a very nice chat while her kids are doing their nightly bath routine, and I'm picking up in the kitchen (because I apparently cannot cook without making a huge mess). I go to put leftover french onion soup in a container for tomorrow night's dinner... and "Crap! Crap! Crappity crap! I've got a, um, well, a mess to deal with here".

I managed to spill at least 4 cups of french onion soup while transferring it to tupperware. Not only did I lose half the soup, it spilled between the stove and the counter. It's only a quarter inch space, but it all flooded in to the tiny crevice. Fuck! That means pulling out the stove to clean up the mess. Now I know I'll never win the Good Housekeeping Award, but I usually clean behind the stove every 2-3 months. Same with the fridge. But since Dad died, well let's just leave it at... I have clean clothes on every day, I have vacuumed the floors, and the counters and the toilets are usually fairly clean, but not much else has been done. I need to do serious spring cleaning, in the worst way. All of this is running through my head as I slowly pull the stove from the wall and the counters.

Delicately put.. ugh. Probably a half pound of dog kibble, dog and cat hair, 2 tea lights, some baby's breath, and an unopened apricot lip gloss. Mixed in with french onion soup. Shoot me.

This weekend has been a bust. To paraphrase Chey's littlest one, "Good Night dog poop". I'm pretty sure I'll be seeing you again in the morning. Right now I'm going to take a Lorazepam and a bottle **ooopsie, I mean glass** of wine. I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Weekend Plans

2009-02-07T09:41:00.002-05:00

I'm so excited about tonight, it's ridiculous. Wine, snacks, girlfriends, and Rock Band!! I'm starting to come down with a cold, but there's no way it's stopping me from tonight. We're rocking out - in our jammies.

I've been thinking... I'm bringing my camera, it's time to start documenting the goofiness. I've spent most of my life avoiding being in pictures, I'm always too self conscious. I think this is the year I'm going to try to change it. It's just a picture. I want to be able to look back on the pictures and laugh at all the good times. So what if I'm too chunky? Who cares if I'm in my best Starfleet Academy sweat pants with no make up on? That's me. So be it. It's time to stop constantly worrying about what other people think, and just enjoy my life.

I'm off to go enjoy myself and live a little!

How to Feel Instantly Popular

2009-02-02T19:43:00.002-05:00

So I joined the world of Facebook last night. And what did I find there? Why the people who read this blog and that I keep in touch with on a regular basis, my irl friends, and... THE HORROR!!! My high school is having a reunion soon for my class. My TWENTY year reunion!

But it was a lot of fun going through the pictures and laughing. Some people look the same (I do - just more grays a few more pounds, but instantly recognizable, and I still close my eyes when I smile), and some people look so vastly different that I wouldn't know them if they came up and bit me on the nose... Hard to tell how much people have really changed in terms of looks tho, because it was the era of big, huge, permed out hair.

I got tagged by one of the reunion committee members almost immediately (that'll learn me to put in personally identifying information) but after a few minutes of digging through pictures, I feel like I was already there.

Oh, and how to feel instantly popular? Join Facebook. Apparently there are scores of people out there dying to say hello. I feel special in a "hey, it's nice to post a single sentence asking how you are, but I'm never going to actually write you or meet to hang out" type of way. Which is awesome for me. You guys know how much I suck at keeping in touch!

Crash and Burn...

2009-02-01T15:03:00.003-05:00

It's February 1st. Time to evaluate the first month of the year... and it was BUSY!! I've finally come back out of my hidey-hole and started seeing my friends again, going to the gym, paying attention to the world around me... and I'm tired.

I have spent the entire weekend doing practically nothing, and it's been wonderful. Yesterday was the first day since Dec 20th that I chose not to leave the house at all, blew off all obligations, and napped. It's 3 pm on Sunday, and there's a pretty good chance that today will be more of the same. The dog is giving me that look, you know the one "Come on mommy, the couch is comfy, there's plenty of food in the freezer, you know you want to..."

And it's everything that I hoped it would be. Sheer heaven. Tomorrow I'll go back to burning the candle at both ends, but for today, I'm going to just be. Who says I haven't learned anything from my yoga and meditation class????

I made my first chili yesterday

2009-01-18T09:41:00.002-05:00

Yummmm!!!

For the first time ever, I made chili. It needs to be tweaked a little, so for those of you who cook - what do you put in to add a little spice and heat, but without making it inedible?

I *think* this is what I put in (I tend to just keep throwing things in, even when I'm working off of a recipe, so it's not exact)

2 lbs ground sirloin
1 large onion
2 red peppers
1 large can diced tomato
1 small can of tomoto paste
3 medium hot chili peppers (I can't remember what I used - 1 red 2 green)
chili powder (don't ask how much, just kept adding until the taste was close)
ground cumin (again, until the taste was close)

I'm thinking that a touch of ground cinnamon might help to bring out the heat. Any other ideas?

Blessed

2009-01-16T22:21:00.002-05:00

Today was one of those days when I realized how truly blessed I am. I was driving home after dinner with friends, and I actually had one of those rare moments when I thought to my self "Right this moment, this particular second, there is nothing I would change about my life".

And it's mostly because of my friends. I have no idea what I would do without you guys. I communicated with no less than 10 close friends today, and every single one lifted me up in one way or another. How fucking lucky am I that there are that many people that I love, and that love me back?

I'm still not sure if I believe in God/Creator/Buddha. I thought I gave up on that a few years ago. But days like today make me think that there are people who come in to your life at a particular moment, for a specific reason. And I'm grateful.

Or it could be that I've been on a diet for 2 weeks, forgot to eat today, had 4 beers and then went to Red Robin. Maybe a greater force in the universe just brings the right restaurant in to your life at the right time. Maybe God is a woman with wicked PMS. I could get behind that as a basis for a religion.

Interesting...

2009-01-04T20:02:00.004-05:00

Did you ever get so caught up in your own bad self-esteem and petty life drama, that you forget the impact that you have on other people? It happens to me all the time. I'm an extrovert, but in times of extreme stress I become a hermit, and isolate myself from everyone. I've done that quite a bit over the last few years, but have made a New Year's resolution to do a little bit better with that this year.

To that end, I was cleaning out my email and trying to figure out who I owe email to, who I owe phone calls to, who are the most neglected of my peoples that need attention first.... and I came across an email I received 10 weeks ago. From a long lost male friend, someone who was pre-baron. Someone I was crazy about, but that I perhaps did not treat the way a person should be treated. Huh. It was basically trying to find out if I am who he thought I was (he saw me through my myspace page).

So...let's play a game of Devil's Advocate...what would you do? Would you send a reply back? Would you just chalk up to someone closing in on age 40 and trying to evaluate their life? Would you think it's a breach of trust with the baron (even though I'm reading this to him as I type it, so it's really not a matter of not disclosing). Okay ladies, I'll be eagerly looking at the comments to see what you would do.

Harbinger of Death

2008-11-27T15:50:00.002-05:00

Another fun filled family extravaganza. We had Thanksgiving over at the Baron's mother's house. It went fine. There's always plenty of food, plenty of laughter, lots of family, and many bottles of wine.

But the Baron's family has one tiny little quirk. They don't talk about bad stuff. Ever. They don't acknowledge a lot of things, and prefer to ignore the elephant pooping in the corner of the room. You all know me. I have no filter. Pour a few glasses of wine in me, and it's like truth serum.

This leads to a lot of uncomfortable moments. Particularly with Auntie C. I love Auntie C - she's kind, sweet, caring, and very sensitive. But the family really only gets together for holidays, so Auntie C, her husband Uncle E, and their kids get left out of the loop during the year.

You see where this is going, right? Me in tears at Easter 3 years ago telling her that we had lost our first baby, BT. Me in tears at Thanksgiving 2 years ago when she said how good I looked for 6 months pregnant, explaining that we had lost our second baby, MP a few weeks before. Her in tears this past Easter, when I explained to her that the Baron's father passed away a few months before (while everyone else cleared out of the kitchen, I was left consoling her).

And today. Explaining that we had to leave early because we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow helping my Mom move out of the house. The second I said it, I saw the look on Auntie C's face. She looked confused. She wanted to ask why my Mom was moving. But history has taught her not to ask me the tough questions, even though it was killing her.

For the first time in my life, I took the easy way out. I put on my coat and refused to make eye contact. I wasn't going to be the one to tell her anymore bad news. I couldn't do it. I watched her corner my Mother in law in another room a few minutes later and ask her.

Nothing like a family holiday to once again make me feel The Harbinger of Death.

Nevermore! kaw, kaw

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T11:35:00.005-05:00

This is what I do every holiday morning. I always intend to make pies the night before, but get lazy and wind up making pies for my family and the Baron's family first thing when I wake up. And for those who are curious - oh yeah, I got mad baking skillz. That's my pie, not a random photo. Homemade crust.

The funny thing is... I don't like pie. It's 3 hours worth of work, and I don't even take a piece. It's just my job for the families, I enjoy the process, I enjoy being a little special - The Bearer of Pies. I learned how to bake apple pie from my Grandmother, and it's been my role for about 10 years.

What I do love about baking a pie from scratch... Little Sisters. Sillies - I don't mean relatives, I'm an only child! It's a family tradition, born from Depression Era grandparents - how to ensure you use every last bit of usable food. You take the leftover dough from the pie crust, roll it out long and thin, slather butter on it, sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon, roll it up, cut in to little cookies, and bake for 10 mins.

The upside to always putting the pies off until the holiday morning... we always have Little Sisters for breakfast.

Pic below was taken approx 30 seconds after they left the oven. I put the pan on the stove, grabbed my phone to take a pic, and half of them were gone already.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, and hope it's filled with all of your favorite goodies!

Always Look on The Bright Side of Life...

2008-11-17T19:18:00.002-05:00

Pretty much sums it up these days. I know, I know... I haven't returned emails, phone calls, but it's taking pretty much everything in me to get up and shower in the morning.

Here's what's going on. Gram was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia, heart attacks, and her general declining health. Both of you who read the blog know that I deal with all of the phone calls when it comes to her health, and tried to be a good girl and visit every other day, taking Mom with me several times. Not fun. She was at the same hospital Dad died in. Mom did okay, but it was really tough on both of us Gram made it through, and she's back at the nursing home.

Meanwhile on the homefront, the Baron and I had a complete relationship meltdown. Epic proportions for a few days. I was having anxiety attacks for a few days, and wound up working from home at least once because I thought I was going to stroke out.

Oh yeah, and if you watch the news, read the paper, or don't live under a rock... you also know that the company I work for is in serious jeopardy - not a good time for me not to be putting in my best performance at work. Terrified I'm going to lose my job.

So I backed off from Mom and Auntie for a few days, trying to straighten my life out and get my head back together. Mom was so good about it, but the visits to the hospital to see Gram really through her out of whack. Flash forward a week, and Mom hadn't really slept or eaten since I saw her 6 days ago. Not good. We hugged, we cried, we took medication, finally got Mom to sleep, with the promise that she wouldn't stay alone in the house for a few days, she'd go down to my other Aunt's house to stay.

And yesterday when I talked to her (3 days after the meltdown) she had been at my aunt's a few days.... and she's decided that's it. She's not sleeping at her house ever again. She's officially moved. I knew it was coming, but I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. My parent's house is never going to be my parent's house again. Pretty soon she won't own it any longer. I can't stop crying about it. I may be pushing toward 40, been on my own since my early 20's, but dammit, Mom and Dad's house was always home! I won't be able to just swing by when I have a bad day. I won't be able to just let myself in and raid the goodie cabinet.

And the worse part is, the part that my head still can't wrap around... I'll never see Dad sitting on the oversized chair watching t.v.. I'll never see him at the computer playing his games on Pogo. I'll never again kvetch with him about work acquaintances, or how the whole place is going to hell in a hand basket. I'll never see any of his tacky Christmas decorations hung all over the house. It all finally seems real, and I can't stand it.

All this whining, and that stupid Monty Python song is ringing in my ears. Come on everybody, whistle along with me...

Mixed Tapes

2008-10-26T09:44:00.004-04:00

Most of the people who may actually peek in on this blog know that I love mixed tapes. Hell, most of you have received a mixed tape from me (I know, I know, they're cd's now - but they harken back to the angst of my teen years, and will forever be mixed tapes, regardless of the format). So this post from RoseHawk made me think about a new mix.

I've been thinking for a bit about a mix that reminds me of Dad, but it's just a little too soon. So I'm going back a little further. Back to when we lived in the tiny apartment above my grandparent's. Back to the 70's. Back when there was very little drama or grief in my life. We were poor, but I was a kid and didn't notice, everyone I knew was poor. Gas shortages meant a nap in the car and singing with the radio while we waited in line. There was always music playing. Saturdays were devoted to house cleaning while dancing around and singing (a habit I still have today, while the dog barks ferociously at me - he has no concept of how good my voice sounds in my head).

Anyone want to help? I usually have a bit more of a theme when I make my mixed tapes - so if you're a child of the 70's do you have any songs that you still can't resist singing along with if you happen to catch it on the radio?

Feel free to make the comments anonymous if you can't face the shame of knowing all the lyrics... there's more than one on this list that makes me cringe posting for all the world to see

Pina Colada Song - Rupert Holmes
Copacabana - Barry Manilow
Love Will Keep Us Together - The Captain and Tenille
Rock the Boat - The Hues Corporation
Bennie and the Jets - Elton John
You're No Good - Linda Ronstadt
Here You Come Again - Dolly Parton
I'm A Little Bit Country, I'm a Little Bit Rock n Roll - Donny and Marie
Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard - Paul Simon

Step away from the crockpot...

2008-10-19T08:32:00.004-04:00

I just went through my fridge to determine what I need for this week's grocery shopping, and there are 11 full meals in my freezer! Mac n cheese, chicken soup, bigos, and meat sauce. I'm doing a little happy dance here... I don't have to cook every single night this week! AND there's a chance I might actually make it to the gym after work. It's sad, but there is true joy at the thought that I might not be racing around after work every night this week to put dinner on the table.

Anyone else have a few small joys in life to celebrate this week?

Just a little giggle over names

2008-10-15T22:35:00.004-04:00

Second post in a day - what's the world coming to????

All this talk about the Baron's family being very Polish, and mine not so much brought back a funny memory. Addressing wedding invitations. Honest to God - one side of my family has Smith the other has Jones for last names. No big shockers, maybe the occasional unusual spelling of a common first name.

Baron's family? - Lord help me, I would call and ask people to spell things out very slowly for many, many hours. They had to think that he was marrying a moron. Oh, there's the pre-requisite "-ski" in a few of the last names, but there is one that has M, L, J, D, Z, N, K and at least 5 vowels. I still couldn't spell the name today even if there was a gun pointed at my head. Funny thing is... every time I talked to a different family member, I'd get a different spelling (or at least I wrote it down differently every time!). My apologies continue to go out to the family, many years of marriage later, I can pronounce it, but I have no clue how to spell it.

Even the first names were difficult. I distinctly remember looking at Baron one night and asking "What's a Ginzi?" Mr. or Mrs. ?

Anyone have a favorite family name that they want to pass down through the generations? Or a name that they believe to be an evil joke?

Personally, I'd never hyphenate a child's first name. Seems to have been a small trend in the 70's, that has thankfully passed (it's not really evil, just a bit traumatic filling out paperwork in school when you don't have a middle name).

Recipe of the Week

2008-10-12T17:40:00.007-04:00

My husband, hence forth known as "The Baron" , is 3/4 Polish 1/4 Irish. Cabbage and cured meat runs in his blood. Polish food is something that he grew up with at the nightly dinner table. He grew up in the heart of central CT, in neighborhoods that still have all the shop signs in both English and Polish. Coleslaw is present at every holiday. His Mom makes Golabki every New Year's Eve. Easter brings the joy of two kinds of kielbasa from Martin Rosol's - fresh and cured. And yet... I'm the one who LOVES Polish food. It's smoky, exotic, salty, tangy, and I put on 3-5 lbs every time I sit at the holiday table. The Baron could take it or leave it. I beg to go to Staropolska at least once a month, but he just doesn't get that excited about it.

To put it in perspective for you - while his family is primarily Polish, mine is... well, American. Homogenized. Typical melting pot. I'm Scottish, English, Irish, Welsh, French, Portugese and French Canadian. I have no idea how many generations back my family has lived here in New England. There was the great migration down from Maine and Massachusetts, and for the last few generations we've been in CT. No one is fresh off the boat - I think the closest thing I had to a relative that was 1st generation was my great-grandfather, but he moved from New Brunswick to Maine - not really a tumultuous trip to Ellis Island. We don't really have any traditions that go back to the Old Country. We don't have an Old Country. We had potato farmers and a few odd Portugese traditions (I'll save the one tradition that I know is Portugese for Easter - but it involves hard boiled eggs, and an unhealthy sense of competition - somebody please remind me to blog about it in the spring!)

Old World, traditional meals intrigue me, and I crave the strong, earthy smells and tastes when the weather turns cold.

This week's experiment is another one for the crockpot. It is NOT Weight Watchers friendly. In fact, it's going to require a very light lunch and some serious time on the elliptical machine, but I'm betting that it's going to be worth it. I give you... Bigos (also known as Hunter's Stew or Poland's National Dish). I can't wait to get home tomorrow night for dinner, I think I just gained 2 lbs typing this post!

Bigos
1 onion -- chopped
1 clove garlic -- minced
2 tablespoons butter
1 pound cabbage
1 quart sauerkraut -- rinsed and drained
1/2 pound mushrooms -- sliced
1 pound boneless pork butt -- cut in 1" cubes
1 pound boneless veal -- cut in 1" cubes
1/2 pound Polish sausage -- sliced 1/2" thick
1/2 cup beef stock
1 cup chopped tomatoes
2 tart apples -- diced
1/2 cup pitted prunes
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup red wine

Brown all the meat. Layer sauerkraut, fruits and veggies, meat. Layer again. Pour in beef stock wine, spices. Cook for 8-10 hours on low. Can absolutely be frozen, everything I've read says the taste is actually better after a few days.

If there's a heaven, I hope it looks like this

2008-10-11T20:39:00.006-04:00

I didn't post a lot about the trip once we started to head out of Orlando and to the Keys. All I can say... difficult. It was an extremely tough trip. I know we did the right thing. I know Dad would have been so proud of us for figuring out a way to get to Key West to spread his ashes. But it wasn't easy.

There were moments when I swear he was with us. That's a big deal for me to say - I want to believe in an afterlife, I want to believe there's something else, but I have no proof, and dammit, I don't believe ANYTHING that I don't experience for myself.

There were songs that played on the radio at highly coincidental moments. The second we were crossing on to the first Key, Oye Como Va by Santana started playing. Mom and I did our best to ignore it, don't make eye contact, don't cry, don't mention it. Doesn't sound like much - but Dad loved Santana. He definitely rocked the "Latin flava". I used to joke about it with my friends, there were some older women at work that would practically bat their eyelashes at him. There was one woman (no longer there, but if you ask me offline, I'll tell you who - Chey prolly remembers) that we used to call Cujo. Gentle as can be *insert rolling of eyes and gagging* - which is how she earned the nickname when we were trainees. Yup, she and Dad were buds. Woman would rip me a new ass in a meeting, and go home and bake a cake for him. No lie.

Where the hell was this post going? Oh yeah. The Keys and messages from beyond. There was another song that came on right when we went by the state park that my parents went kayaking in. I won't name the song out of respect for Mom's privacy. But if there is an afterlife, if he can communicate at all - it was Dad trying his hardest to let her know he's there.

We let him go the night we arrived in Key West. We found a beautiful spot by where the big cruise ships dock, right as the sun was sinking in to the ocean. Every night when people clap, cheer, and toast the sunset, they'll be celebrating Dad. And as we left his final resting spot, we realized all of the power went out on the island. As S* said when I told him about it... "Where the hell did you guys drop him? You know he can't be unsupervised around electricity!"

Gotta love that town. Power out, 90 degree heat, clothes clinging to the tourists from 100% humidity, all the restaurants and shops closed, but the bars were still open. Candles on the tables, couldn't serve anything with carbonation, but they found us some chips, salsa and killer martinis. We say goodbye to Dad, and then toasted him until we were stumbling and had to call a cab to bring us back to the hotel.

That's about all of an update I can handle for now. I feel better that he's where he truly wanted to be, but it hasn't eased the sense of loss. I still miss talking to him every day, and still turn quick when I hear a voice that sounds like his, or see a head that looks like his 5 aisles away. But I know we did the right thing. I'm grateful that the timing worked out. Seriously, if it had been a month later, with the way the economy is going, there is no way we could have swung it. But I'll deal with that in another post. For now, I'm just going with grateful.

I know, I know, I'm still not returning emails or phone calls in a timely manner. I will, I promise. Still having that head-stuck-up-my-ass problem. But it's getting better. I'm starting to try to reach out again. Of course, with the current economic shitstorm, I can't afford to go out to dinner with you guys, but perhaps a night of Guitar Hero and homemade margaritas is in order soon? Muah! Love to all my girls...

Decent Crockpot Recipes? Anyone? Anyone?

2008-10-10T18:13:00.003-04:00

I'm back to cooking again. 8 days away from home left me with a complete craving for real, homemade food, and a desire to join Weight Watchers again... what can I say, I'm a woman full of dichotomies. In order to not put too great a strain on my marriage, I've agreed to experiment only once a week and stick by the tried and true recipes the rest of the week. This week's experiment, Chicken Paprikash. It sucked *ss. Tastes like mush with a kick. Blech. Can't wait to see what S* thinks of it. The good news is... I made the entire bag of egg noodles so we can have noodles and butter after he tastes it :)

Anyone have a favorite crockpot recipe they'd like to share? 'Cuz this one wasn't it.

Chicken Paprikash

Serve this dish with egg noodles, orzo, rice, or mashed potatoes. Use preshredded carrots to speed up preparation.
Yield

6 servings (serving size: 1 cup)
Ingredients

* 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
* 2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken breast, cut into 1/2-inch strips
* 2 cups chopped onion (about 1 large)
* 1 1/4 cups fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
* 1 cup chopped red bell pepper
* 1/2 cup shredded carrot
* 2 tablespoons Hungarian sweet paprika
* 2 teaspoons bottled minced garlic
* 1 teaspoon salt
* 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
* 1 (8-ounce) package presliced mushrooms
* 1 1/4 cups reduced-fat sour cream

Preparation

Combine flour and chicken in a medium bowl; toss well. Add chicken mixture, chopped onion, and the next 8 ingredients (through mushrooms) to an electric slow cooker. Cover and cook on low for 8 hours.

Stir in sour cream.
Nutritional Information

Calories:
316 (25% from fat)
Fat:
8.8g (sat 4.5g,mono 2.2g,poly 1.1g)
Protein:
40.6g
Carbohydrate:
17.3g
Fiber:
3g
Cholesterol:
114mg
Iron:
2.3mg
Sodium:
627mg
Calcium:
123mg

The Definition of the Best Mom in the World

2008-09-29T19:03:00.003-04:00

Well, Day1 of the conference. I was supposed to go to a networking event from 6-8 tonight. But Mom and I had dinner at Shula's, and had 3-4 martinis each. So Mom wrote me the above excuse note.

Yes, the names have been removed to protect the lushes.

To Whom It May Concern,

Please excuse my daughter, *Moosh* from tonight's get together as she had a little bout of Bubonic Plague. This was aggravated by the alcohol we consumed at dinner. She will be fine for Tuesday night's event.

Thank you,

Sincerely,

Mrs. *Moosh* (Moosh's mother)

You gotta love the woman. Particularly after martinis.

We're on a Mission From God

2008-09-27T23:35:00.004-04:00

It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it.

Okay, that quote is a HELL of a lot funnier if you could actually see that we were in Blues Brothers hats after having a fantastic dinner, and a couple Swamp Waters a piece at the House of Blues in Downtown Disney this evening. And yes, it's a very crappy cell phone picture - but it's worth it for the joke.

Day 1 of relaxation is going well, tomorrow looks like Epcot and Aquatica. Hope to have many more bad pics. And yes, Dad made it safely through the airport. Hurdle number one complete.

I'm Going to DisneyI

2008-09-26T21:14:00.003-04:00

Well, in 12 short hours I'm headed to the Magic Kingdom. Before you get all jealous... it's a working vacation. And I'm bringing Mom. I think we both need to head out of Dodge for a little while, and this is just fortuitous timing.

I'm headed to a conference, which will be 3-4 days of sheer madness. Straight work. The last conference I went to was a lot of fun, but there's a need to be "on" 24/7 - attending presentations, constantly logging in to work, networking, trying to get the most of out of it all, and make sure they don't regret sending me... but of course, the networking events usually have alcohol, and I have no filter, so I have to work really hard during the daytime events to make up for my behavior at the evening events. What can I say? It's a lot of pressure being me!

Anyway, we head down tomorrow afternoon, and have Sat night and all day Sunday to relax before the conference and tough work starts. The conference ends on Thursday, and Mom and I will be driving down to Key West. Sounds tough, right?

Well... then we do the really tough part. We say good bye to Dad. His will listed out all of his advanced medical directives, and on the back of it he hand wrote several instructions. He didn't want a wake. He wanted to be cremated. He wanted a memorial service that was full of music and a celebration of his life. And then he wanted his ashes scattered either in Rhode Island or Key West. The places he was happiest. Where he kayaked and had great memories with Mom. The places he was at peace and was able to just sit back and enjoy life.

When we get to Key West we'll be dispersing Dad's ashes. Saying a final good-bye, and making sure he's resting where he always wanted to be, in the warm waters of the Florida Keys. I'm eerily calm about the whole thing. I expected to be very anxious and fretting, but there's a certain comfort in knowing that we're following his wishes. Knowing he'd be happy that we figured out a way to get there.

It's been less than 7 weeks since he passed away. I miss him terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him, wish I could hear his voice, miss just chatting in the aisle at work. I said good-bye to him in the hospital, but it was just words. I don't think I've let him go yet.

I remember a conversation with him last summer. We were chatting out on my parent's patio about all the crap that had gone on over the last few years, losing the babies, Gram's health, his surgery, and how all the different members of our family handled the stress so differently. I remember telling him that I couldn't ever regret having the babies. I couldn't keep getting myself worked up or upset by how sick he had been before the surgery, because I couldn't believe in the world as a dark, cruel place. I had to still believe in joy and beauty of the universe, and for those reasons, I was grateful I had BT and MP. I loved them. They left us too soon, but I was grateful for the precious moments I held them. I was grateful that Dad was so sick that we knew to take his condition seriously, and that the surgery had saved his life. It was the only way to still see the world that I wanted to be a part of.

I still want to believe in that world. If Dad were here now, I think he'd remind me to look at the way things have worked out - we have the opportunity to get to the beach, the warm weather, try to relax a little, and say a proper farewell. There is something good flowing through the universe. Even though our hearts are broken, there's beauty and wonder if you look for it.

Here's hoping there's a little beauty and wonder in it for everyone this week.

Kitty Hobo!

2008-09-19T16:01:00.002-04:00

Yes, it's true. The Kitty Hobo has returned! I came home from work, put down my laptop bag in the rec room, and caught sight of something orange out of the corner of my eye. NOT inside my house. This is not one of my orange tabbies. This is the same guy that tried to break in to the house 2 nights ago. The pic is taken from inside my house, looking out the rec room slider. I can't help but wonder... is he casing the joint and just trying to look casual? And is it true that criminals always return to the scene of the crime?

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

2008-09-17T19:40:00.004-04:00

I suppose I should write something deep and profound about grief, loss, and having your whole life put in perspective. But I've got nothing. My life is consumed by mundane tasks. Get up, go to work, talk to Mom, come home, make dinner, space out on the couch for a few hours, talk to Mom again, try to make conversation with S, go to bed. Rinse. Repeat. Over and over and over. Pretend everything is normal.

But it's not. Dad is gone. Mom is a mess. I'm not dealing with it at all. Something funny, annoying, trivial will happen at work, and I'll pick up the phone when I get home and call my parents house. And after the last ring and just before Mom says hello...

I remember. I can't share that joke with Dad. I can't tell him about my awful day. I can't talk shop with him. I'll never hear his voice again. Mom answers the phone, "hello?", and in that split second it all crashes around me. She will never be the same again. Her heart has broken in two. All of their hopes, dreams, and plans for the future have smashed in to pieces. My family will never be whole again. There is no man that loves me unconditionally, just for being me. The Kid. I'm alone. And so is she. I have to catch myself and not ask to talk to him. It happens almost daily. "Hi Mom, just checking to see how you're doing. Did you eat? Did you get any sleep? How was your day?".

I don't know how I'm doing. I am glad you keep asking. I think about my friends a lot. I love you guys. It's not you, it's me. I just don't know how to do anything but Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Kitty Hobo Signs???

2008-09-17T19:18:00.003-04:00

My darling husband is away at a training class. The house is quiet. I came home tonight after another exhausting day at work to just relax and veg. I have the sniffles and a headache. I went to my Mom's on the way home to feed her ferrets, grabbed something quick to eat, took care of the dog, and sat down to surf the Net a little bit after opening up the sliders and windows to let some crisp fall air in to the house.

Mind you, it's getting dark earlier now, but I'm used to summer daylight, so I didn't turn on the lights in the rec room. The house is quiet, empty, and dark. I'm sitting upstairs when I hear this awful noise coming from the rec room.

It sounds like someone is trying to break in.

To the dark room with the windows and slider door open.

I very cautiously go down the stairs. With my oh-so-brave-dog cowering behind me. One of my cats is 3 feet away from the screen of the open slider door. Screeching. Hissing. Growling. I'm terrified. There is still a noise coming from the outside - something is trying to get in to the house through the screen.

The dog is smart enough to have stayed in the hallway, looking on with curiosity at whatever might happen to Mommy. The husband is in a hotel room in another state. I have to be brave and scare off whatever intruder is making it's way in. I go up to the slider...

And stare at a thin orange tabby trying to claw his way through the screen in to our house. NOT one of my two orange tabbies (note that I said it was a *thin* cat).

WTF??? Are there kitty hobo signs on my house? All I can think of is depression era cartoon cats carving fish symbols on our siding. "Good food and fat cats here".

How's that for supportive?

2008-06-22T09:45:00.002-04:00

About 8 months ago, my husband stopped drinking. Life was getting hard to manage, our marriage was in a terrible state, and we were both running from our problems in different ways. His involved a lot of drinking. One horrible night it all changed. But it's changed for the better. He decided to stop drinking entirely. No easing off a bit, no cutting back. Not a single sip of alcohol in over 8 months.

I'm very proud of him. It takes a lot of courage, and he's done it with grace. He still hangs out with people who drink, he never tries to make anyone else feel bad about their drinking. He not preachy about it. He just sits quietly and drinks soda.

I've tried really hard to be supportive of his choice, and not add to his stress level about it. I generally don't drink around him. It's had the side effect of my not drinking much at all. Generally 1 or 2 drinks out with friends, and then I'm done. We don't hang out at bars together, and I try to encourage him to go out to activities that don't focus on drinking (while his dart league is at bars, it's still an activity he can focus on rather than just drinking). We don't have beer in the fridge anymore, and only wine that I use for cooking.

Anyway, there's a point to this story. I thought I'd been a good wife, doing all the right things to support his decision. And then he comes down stairs this morning.

Husband: "That new soap in the bathroom... it doesn't smell like pink grapefruit".

Me(slightly irritated, why doesn't he like the freakin soap, it was on sale!!): "Yes, it does. What do you think it smells like?"

Husband: "It smells exactly like Southern Comfort".

Me:(really irritated) "No it doesn't. But if you want, we can switch it with the one in the kitchen."

Husband: "No, seriously it does. I'll prove it". Goes to the cabinet, pulls out an old bottle of SoCo, and makes me smell it... at 9am.

Me:"Oh God! I can't believe all these months of sobriety, and I'm sabotaging it with the hand soap!!!!".

It's true. Method brand hand soap, pink grapefruit scent smells exactly like Southern Comfort. Eeeek! That poor man, I've been sabotaging him all week with his greatest weakness... the scent of SoCo. Bad wife, bad, bad, bad!

Lists

2008-06-21T08:29:00.002-04:00

I'm a list person. So are most of my friends, Exhibit A: First comment on my blog, listed 1-3, gotta love the logical mind! I have random lists all over my house and at work. Grocery lists, to-do lists, home improvement lists, self-improvement lists, some are random things to remember. Occasionally I find lists that are months old floating around that have completely lost their context. My favorite was a few years old on my desk at work:

1)Fear
2)Surprise
3)Ruthless Efficiency
4)An almost fanatical devotion to the Pope

Today's list is a little less ambitious:

1)Write blog
2)Vacuum!!! (They can no longer be called dust bunnies. They're woolly mammoths)
3)Visit Gram at the nursing home
4)Lunch with Mom and Auntie to talk about Gram's health care. Remain calm, mediate, do not get emotional.
5)Weed the front walkway
6)Laundry
7)Log in to work and finish estimates
8)Find a new recipe or two and plan out dinners for the week

Item 4 may actually require fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency...

Just for Cheysu...

2008-06-20T22:17:00.000-04:00

Ta-da! The creation of a blog. Unfortunately, I have not written a single item that I've been proud to put my name in approximately 10 years. Worse still...I highly suspect that the journals/stories/articles I wrote then were quite bad. I was young, and full of angst that all seemed so very important, but now feels extremely mundane. When, I ask, WHEN did I grow up, lose my flair for the dramatic, and become such a boring person?

Oh well, I guess I'll give it a try. 30 days of blogging to see if I can find my voice again. It's got to be easier than Sudoku, right? Right?