And why can't I ....

He said: ...

I said: ...

What I SHOULD have said:  Why do you always have to be such a dick?

Never Good Enough

He said: It's too bad you didn't do better ($500 + food donations for recent food drive)

I said: I'm happy with what we collected.

What I SHOULD have said:
1.  It's a Concert NOT a Dance
2. There's an ever-loving E in my name.
3. I'm NOT a republican!!!!! (Stop sending me propaganda and asking me to coordinate your events!)
4. Nothing is EVER good enough for you, is it?

:-)

D'oh! Oh Network, where did you go?

Around a month ago I came into the office, started my computer, ho-hum just another day.  Computer boots up with no welcome screen.

You know the one, serene blue color, saying, Good morning Stacey.  How's it going?  Is the coffee good this morning?  Did you bring me a cup?  Two creams, one sugar.

Yeah, that one.

Except, it's not there to ask for it's coffee.  The computer takes me straight to the desktop.  An unfamiliar one.  No pretty wallpaper.  No icons of programs that make my world go round.  No various projects that I've saved on the desktop.

And, as I start to hyperventalate because I cannot even access the network, I hear a faint screaming of my computer profile trapped inside the tower.  (From it's shaky account it was blindfolded, poked with searing hot objects and force fed liver)

My profile was sucked away and held hostage for around six hours.  The computer hostage negotiator had to come and boy did he have his hands full.  He had to sweet talk and threaten the evil demon that was torturing my good friend.  I don't know what all went down those six hours except that there were various passwords given and promises made.

In other words, a full work day gone because of technical difficulties.

But that, unpleasant wasteful day was like a hang nail compared to the computer armageddon we experienced this week.

That's right.  A full week.  Five work days.  WITHOUT THE NETWORK. 

The computer that houses the NETWORK was going through black screen convulsions.  "I was not properly shut down last time.  Shut down now? Safe Mode? Resume as is? If you don't touch me within the next five seconds, I'll do whatever I please." 

Turns out, it did the last option no matter what we tried to choose.

It was a crisis situation, so we called in the reserves.

We had email, we had Internet (after some prodding on my part to the so-called-computer-expert) and we had whatever what was located on our individual C-Drives.  Which, my friends, wasn't a whole lot.

One coworker went gangbusters and cleaned.  Which meant she was done with that usually long drawn out task by 2 p.m. on Monday.  (Say it with me folks, F.U.C.K.)

It was an interesting little experiment of who could hold their sanity longest.  (I'm not sure if I won.)

One of us would start something and get cocky.  "Hey, look at me!  I'm working and being productive without the precious NETWORK.  Now I just have to load this Update to the Web site and send out the email ... and .... dammit ... web updates are on the NETWORK. .... WHY GOD, WHY?!?"

La la la, working on something, oh wait, I have to check that figure.  BAM. It's on the NETWORK.

And on. And on. And on.

The busy work and random tasks we could find really didn't task our brains ... and by Wednesday we were all getting a little punchy.

However, our office is now cleaner than when the cleaning Nazi walked our halls.

Friday at two the computer "expert" came back with the computer that houses the NETWORK all new and shiny and working.  The only problem with this is he didn't know where the NETWORK was on the new computer.  He wouldn't listen to the file paths I was giving him.  But oh well, what do I know?

With around one hour left in the week, the NETWORK was restored.  I was so disoriented at all the different options of folders and files that I didn't know what to work on first. 

File it under, What I SHOULD have said ...

She said: Thank you for taking my place in that three hour after work, "sit there and do nothing" thing.

I said: Not a problem.

What I SHOULD have said: "You owe me the first studio show of So You Think You Can Dance?!!"

I've been here before, a few times

I had the oddest memory come to me while I was raking leaves.

It was my freshman year of college and I was in the newspaper office with the other two editors.

Whatever we were talking about came around to the fact I was having trouble sleeping.  One suggested I take sleeping pills.  I said I had thought of that too, but my mom nixed the idea.

He said, "You're an adult now, you don't have to do what your mom says."

I didn't saying anything at the time, because I knew she was right.  They were something I truly didn't need and it was a very real risk that I could have become dependent on them.   A risk I feel better not taking.

My sister and I had a similar conversation about a different obligation.  It was my grandmother's 80th birthday party on the same day as something else I wanted to go to.

"You don't always have to do what mom wants," she said.  Unfortunately I started to cry (I do that when I get frustrated).

I didn't have to be there, but it meant the world to Mom and Grandma.

I've done plenty of things my mom is not happy about or things she wouldn't have chosen for me. But what they don't understand is being an adult means that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

With that said, if I could have found a way to go to that Goo Goo Dolls concert when I was 17 and forced to go to Grandpa's birthday party, I so would have.

Come on now, Johnny trumps all.

I Miss You. I Miss You.

When I was young we went camping as a family.  My grandparents and quite a few of my mom's brothers and sisters and their kids.  We would have nearly half the campground to ourselves, the family is so big. 

These were probably my favorite moments of my childhood summers.  Beautiful warm days, all together at Lake Solberg in Phillips.

One time, Laura and Lenny were there, my mom's aunt and uncle.  They wanted to go fishing off the dock and they invited me too.  My dad had gotten me my own fishing gear, so I was all set.  They showed me how to cast, and reel the line in.  It was with them that I had caught my first fish.  I remember being so proud, and their smiles shining on me with pride.

After that my dad and I went fishing when we would go camping without the family and it would be just me and him.

Every family reunion I would stop by them to say hi and they would always ask how my fishing was going.  When we stopped camping they would just ask about me. With such a big family, and not being the loudest of the crowd, it's easy to sink in your own little corner, pigeon-holed to a typecast that someone else fits on you.

But they always saw me.  Maybe they saw the little girl I was, with that tiny fish that one summer.

And now, Lenny died.  And I'm going to miss seeing him.

It's great with that jacket, it's like you're one big sexy fish

I've been staying up late this week, and sleeping in too.  Who needs time to get ready for work in the morning?  Apparently, not me, maybe.

I'm not sure why I'm not going to sleep at a normal time.  In the whole of September I probably stayed awake past 9:30 all of five times.  Hey wait ... maybe this means that cold is finally gone.  Except for the inexpictible stuffy nose and sneezing I was doing this morning.  But to make myself feel better, I'll pretend that was allergies.

Yesterday I watched a two hour interview with Seth MacFarlane online.   Yes, I'm a dork.  But oh yes, it was fantastic.  (too lazy to find the link for it, stayed up too late to remember what it was called).  It was some made for the Internet show hosted by a comedian.  Seth had three beverages and then asked for a salad, and then they brought him one. (it was more funny last night then what it sounds now)  Seth was on Flash Forward (fucking awesome, hopefully he's on more episodes and will maybe have a storyline.  One show at a time, MacFarlane is taking over the television)

Tonight I indulged in some Blink 182 & Mark Hoppus you tube clips.  Nice.  The Hartford concert tribute after DJ AM died brought a lump to my throat. I think the lack of sleep effects the numbers side of my brain first because all night long I've been typing 192 and then I'm all wtf? That's not right.

I'm trying to stay awake for South Park, I'm not sure if I'm going to make it.  Hmmm The Late Show with Craig Ferguson is starting to get a little raunchy. 

He says that when you want to be crazy and yell at people, back in the day they used green ink. I didn't realize that.

Last week I got Children of the Corn from the library and watched it with mom.  It has Linda Hamilton in it, and I am contractually obligated to watch anything with Linda Hamilton with mom.  It really wasn't scary by any means, but most horror films from the 80's weren't really that scary.  The male lead was dumb as a box of rocks like most characters in horror films.  It got to the point I was routing for them to kill him.  He kept trying to talk to the brainwashed, crazy, murderous children.  Don't be fooled by this ridiculous dogma he would sneer at them as they closed in around him weilding their reapers and macheties. 

Towards the end was really the best.  He yelled at one of the kids that didn't show homicidal tendencies to get out of the cornfield, but then asked him three separate times for help. He was making a molatov cocktail to set the cornfield on fire and three it to an area that he hadn't sprayed with alcohol. The kid ran and got it, gave it back to him and said "Now throw it right this time!"  Nice.

And THEN at the very end, he got attacked again (because he's that much of an idiot), and Linda saves the day.  He starts wondering what they should do cuz this girl in unconscious in the front seat.  She says, if you want to become a doctor in Seattle, we got to get the hell out of this town.  Yeah, duh---but if I were Linda I'd leave him behind to convince the crazy girl that she shouldn't follow the word of he who walks behind the rows.  For an atheist, he has too many conservative righteousness.

I just learned from TMZ that the Saints have a bye this week.  Damn, them plus the Packers, I have a lot of players I need to replace.  I hope the Colts and Steelers aren't on a Bye or I'm pretty screwed.

Ohhhh, it's the hurricane katrina episode of South Park.  Gotta stay awake for that.

The Where the Wild Things Trailer makes me smile because the song is the closing of the last segment on Fridays (Arcade Fire) for the Dan Patrick Show.  I also love when Seton plays Blink 182 songs.

CBS plays instrumentals from AvA during their pregame show.  It really puts a damper on my Sunday.  Not enough that I would ever consider watching the FOX show, but still yuck.

And with that .... Ladies and Gentlemen .... the stylings of South Park, and then to sleep.

Should have bought stock in Kleenex

Ahhh ... AHHH ... CHOOOOOO!!!!!!

Obviously I'm sick.  I've had a cold for about three weeks. Sniffy nose and miserable.  Now, I've caught another cold that includes huge sneezes every other minute.  Stuffy nose, watery eyes.  FUN.

This cold has left me even more unmotivated than I usually am--which is pretty pathetic.

In this haze of tissues, the one thing that drives me crazy is that people need to give an opinion about what's really wrong.  Because it's absolutely polite to say to someone who just told you they were miserable for the past two days that they really don't have a cold.  It's the flu.  Or, it's allergies.  Of course you know my body better than me.  I've only had it for 26 years.

But let me tell you, it's a cold--it feels like every other cold I've had.  And unless you have a medical degree and you have checked me over, you don't know. Come a little closer, tell me again, and I'll sneeze on you.

It's one of those colds that if I could remove my nose from my face until it was back to working order, I would.

A nice little touch to my cold today is the sudden dip in temperatures.  We received the first taste of fall today--complete with 40 mile-an-hour winds.   The weird thing about these winds is they are truly gusts.  It can be calm one moment and then, like right now, they bloom up out of nowhere and look like they could rip the trees out of ground.  Even those two ginormous pine trees in my backyard.  I think they may have even lost a couple of limbs.  I'd go out and look, but it's 47 degrees out, and I'm not that curious.

I just finished My Sister's Keeper.  Something you should try to avoid when you have a cold?  Crying.  Man. I did not see that coming.  Not the crying.  This book has been great and captivating, but hard.  It hits too close to home and it wasn't something I could breeze through without fighting serious bouts of depression.  But the ending.  Wow.

Get the book.  Read it.  Make sure you have tissues.  Then go hug your kids, and your parents.

Tingling all over

Kick off weekend was awesome.  So awesome, in fact, I think I was a little over-stimulated.

What a better way to start the season than a game that went into overtime?

See that red light? It means you shouldn't be moving.

The road construction is really pushing me to my limit.

It's not the detours, having to drive through an obstacle course of orange barrels and gravel.  I don't care that we've been playing the guess which road is closed today game since April.

What's driving me bonkers is that in dealing with all of this, people have decided that sacrifices they make because of this construction means that they do not have to obey traffic signals.

There's one area at a four way stop, if you have to make a left turn you should factor in another 15 minutes to your travel time.

Picture this: You're sitting in a line of cars as far as the eye can see, about six car lengths away from the left turn lane.  You can see that precious green turn arrow ahead in the distance pointing you towards the promised land.  The long line of cars vaguely begins to move.  When you are four car lengths away from merging into the turn lane, the arrow turns yellow.

And, then once you finally get in that lane, you lose right of passage.  That is, supposibly.

But the two cars ahead of you decide they are above the authority of that lighted arrow and continue to turn without it. This makes the oncoming cars (who, technically have the right of way) wait.  These cars decide they will continue on their way at the red light, because they were cheated out of their green light.

This sets off a cascade of vehicles traveling through the intersection whenever the hell they please only regarding the signals as a vague suggestions. 

This traffic sucks, I get it.  But because you needed to go at that very second, you just made the whole process five minutes longer.  It's a crap shoot people, and a wonder how there hasn't been an accident.

Oh, on a separate note, I was at a presentation for work at an elementary school yesterday and some parent backed into my car.  Then, she high tailed her pick up out of the parking lot.  The office personnel told me what happened and called the police.  I waited around for 25 minutes to file a report, he said it looked like over $1,000 damage.

I haven't gotten the estimate yet, but that's exactly what I needed.  Add my broken oven, and the other engine repairs the car needed anyway, looks like the fall bills will be hefty.

Let me count the ways ...

Ah, the start of the NFL Season, only topped by the thrill of the Super Bowl. Kickoff weekend brings all the things I love about football flooding back ...

1. Feats of brain over brawn (Denver WR-Brandon Stokley running parallel so that time ran off the clock or the Brian Westbrook play last year where he took a knee on the one yard line instead of scoring so the clock would run out and the other team wouldn't have a chance to score).
2. The chatter and cadence at the line of scrimmage before the snap.
3. The beauty of a pass rocketing straight down the field to a waiting receiver.
4. Sacking the other team's quarterback.
5. A defender appearing out of seemingly no where to swoop in, intercept the ball and run it in for a touchdown.
6. The winded D-lineman when he's the one running down the field trying to make a touchdown after a fumble recovery or tipped ball.
7. Whisper of a perfect completion.
8. Thwack of a batted away ball.
9. Comrade of the players and coaches.
10. Grace of the athletes.
11. Toeing in touchdowns.
12. One handed catches.
13. One handed over the shoulder catch between two defenders.
14. A pass that's floated into a receiver and caught without breaking stride.
15. Anticipation of the big game.
16. Celebrations.
17. Pre-game choreography.
18. The synchronicity of no-huddle offense.
19. Redirection at the line of scrimmage.
20. New commercials (practically better than famed super bowl ads).
21. Holding your breath at the big play, waiting to see the conclusion.
22. Ricocheted passes that are completions and touchdowns.
23. Perfectly executed blocks.
24. Making defenders miss.
25. Shrugging out of a sack.
26. Stiff-arming a player two times bigger.
27. Nail biting final moments that pay off.
28. Making something out of nothing.
29. When reviews go your team's way.
30.  Complicated formulas to get into the playoffs.
31. Third down defensive stands.
32.  Stretching for the first down.
33.  Big yards after the catch plays.
34. Booming kick off or punts.
35. Field goals that dink off the upright.
36. Eleven hours of football (with pregame/post game).
37. The really good color commentators & pregame shows.
38. Surprises as scores come up on the ticker.
39. Bad weather games.
40. High scoring games.
41. Broken plays that gain yards.
42. Fake plays.
43. Blocked field goals.
44. Triple digit fantasy points.
45. Ending the game with an interception.

Of Ice Cream Trucks and Doodleage

I'm sitting here quite ravenous waiting for supper.  15 minutes never seemed quite so long, and I should have started prep about a half hour ago so I wouldn't be contemplating chewing off my arm or polishing off the rest of the ice cream.

I'm waiting for my portabella mushrooms to rehydrate so I can finish my stir fry.  I love mushrooms, especially the bellas, but they are so pricey.  I hope this cheaper alternative is a good alternative.

Today is day two (or four if you count the weekend) of my long awaited vacation.  I've been blessed with such beautiful weather.  I've slept in, watched favorite television shows I don't usually get to see, had lunch out and been canceled on three times.  Three times!  Everyone is canceling on me.  Oh well.

Today my godmother, grandmother, aunt and cousin came for a visit with my mom. My mom made a point to inquire about the depth of my cleaning last night.  I don't think she approves of my standards of housekeeping.  Now, I'll admit I'm not the best.  But it's never more than an hour or two of spot cleaning to get it back to presentable.

I made sure to ask her what she thought of the state of the house on the phone tonight.  She approved. If she wouldn't have, it wouldn't have taken too much of a toll, but it's still nice to get the compliment.

This week I've been serenaded by the hum of air conditioners all around me.  By necessity I think I've trained myself to deal with the heat (not that it's been that hot this summer).  Because two years ago I would have been begging to turn the air on or UP. I don't have air in my house and have only ran my fans around three times.

As I write this, I sit under a quilt (and it's around 74 degrees).  I still have two quilts, a blanket, sheet, plus a throw on my bed.

Dude, an Ice Cream truck!  I didn't think they still existed. What fun. If I had some cash I would help the Ice Cream Truck Economy.

I've become quite a doodler lately, and I don't usually do so.  These doodles aren't anything interesting.  In fact, they're just swirls and scrolls.  While I was recreating the same looping swirl over again during video editing, I got the thought to incorporate my subject of doodleage in a new masthead.  But how?

Over and over again, my pen looped around, and I realized my swirls reminded me of Starry Night and I did a quick sketch of this masthead.  I'm not totally satisfied with it, but overall, I like the effect.

I'm frustrated with the overall look and organization of my template, but haven't found anything I like better.  So, I guess this will do.

Another frustration is my innate nature to avoid writing the book I'm working on.  I'm an aspiring writer, which I've always hated admitting, because, isn't everyone?

I have three solid ideas which I sketch out and write passages here and there.  I don't know if its the struggle of prose that keeps me stagnant, the double duty of typing my written long hand (because the open and vast blankness of the word processor sucks the creativity out of me) or the vanity of writing for an immediate audience.

My good intentions always fall flat.  With my remaining time this week, I'll try to remedy that.  Ooof.

The hot tamale train is nearly at the station again

I love that Dooce loves So You Think You Can Dance?.

How exciting is it SYTYCD will be on this fall?

Even though I enjoy him, I hope Evan leaves this week. I think final two will be Kayla and Brandon -- with Brandon winning. (Even though I like Jeanine more than Kayla, but I think Kayla is the better dancer)

My predictions for final standings (I cannot believe the finale is next week!)

1. Brandon
2. Kayla
3. Jeanine
4. Ade
5. Melissa
6. Evan

With the exception that America is in love with Evan and he might make it to the final, leaving Ade going home tonight. 

Just like sour chocolate soy milk

Driving home from work today I almost hit a kid on a scooter. Almost as in if I hit the brake about 5 seconds later this would be a whole different post. I was still in the momentum from my turn when a little blond boy no older than seven, rolling on his scooter, zipped from the sidewalk by the other lane, over the center line to my lane.  My heart was still pounding as I turned into my driveway.

No, wait, it wasn't.  The pounding was replaced utter annoyance as I had to sit on the edge of the road waiting to turn right onto the street that leads to my home.  There I got to see the smooth moves of a teenager trying to ride and trick out a skateboard in the middle of the road.  Or should I say, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE F'ING ROAD!?  DO YOU NOT REALIZE I ALMOST HIT A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD AND BY GOD DON'T TEMPT ME TO MOW YOU DOWN!

Then, THEN this kid looks at me over his shoulder, tries a kick flip, and fails.  He picks up his board and walks to the sidewalk.  I wish I had skills so I could grab his board, do a wicked backside kickflip 360 give it back and walk away.  As if to say, this is my road and you better clear the way when I'm coming punk.

To continue my issues, I learned that using my office key to open the house doesn't work.  And chocolate soy milk goes bad really quickly. This discovery was such a disappointment.  I had at least two more glasses in there and I was really looking forward to having a glass of chocolate milk with my omelet for supper.

More awesomeness

Blink-182, always involved with something awesome.  Click the photo above to enter to win a ton of prizes.

Say it isn't so

Oh Big Ben, I hope it's not true.

Ben Roethilsberger vows to fight 'reckless' lawsuit

Putting your heart in it

I saw this performance on Ellen in November.  I was so struck by it that I immediately downloaded a copy of the song.
 
Beyonce -- Flaws and All on Ellen

Just saw it again today and had to share.

My absolute favorite Beyonce performance ever. 

Another Day

My brain is so wired with deadlines and yard work and housework that I'm not posting as regularly as I would like.  And I regret that terribly.

Remember when I said I could do it but I might go crazy?  Moving up everything a month?  I wasn't kidding.  And instead of that week off I wanted?  I think we should make a month.  And y'all can fend for yourself.

Recently I discovered I have a chipmonk bogarting my birdfeed (though I still hold true on those rules and the birds disrespecting my authority).  Watching the little guy shimmy up the pole and stuff his little cheeks was cute for the first couple of times.   By the fifth time the second day, I started throwing things at the window.  (When they take me to the crazy house, will you visit?)

I finally got the Brilliant idea that he couldn't shimmy if he couldn't get proper grip (and wasn't affiliated with any climbing association).  So I went all crisco on his ass .... or shepard's hooks.  Problem solved.

The birds must have told the bunny who was using my flowers as a buffet that "Dude, she means it and you better watch your poofy little cotton tail, because she's gunning for you."  Because I haven't seen him in plants or nibblings of plants in weeks.  I do however observe him and his momma every night in the neighbor's yard around 7 or 8.  As long as meal time in the Foo Foo family stays out of my yard I'll turn a blind eye to these activities.

I'm dangerously close to a music rut, which could spell very bad business right now.  Sarah turned me on to pandora.com, which is enjoyable for work.  I use last.fm at home and the only problem with both these services is that it generates a playlist for you based on songs you rate positively vs. negatively.  So when you throw one off beat song in there, it totally messes everything up.  We both had to waste our skips on weird songs that were being thrown into the rotation.

I get it though, Punk + Adult Alternative  = the Twang Kings.   No, no ... I totally make the connection.  It's a standardized test thing right? bread is to food as Twangs Kings is to poking my eyes out with very sharp objects.

Speaking of sharp objects, I broke a chopstick trying to put my hair up yesterday.  I've gone through a lot of chopsticks that way and forgot the shock and dismay when it snaps.  Then the contemplation.  Should I fish out the broken part later?  It's up and so tight that it'll actually look nice for a couple of hours if I leave it alone ... 

I might have to go in to get my hair thinned out though, I straightened it and it wasn't Barbie hair.  It was flat and limp.  Like cabbage patch yarn hair.  (Tim's head exploded at that statement I'm sure)

One last bit and I should go do dishes.  Mom and I were sitting after doing yard work last weekend and she said to me, "Is that your vein?" (the blue line on my thigh, completely flat and always been there btw)  Well, yes it is. "Oooooohhhhh you're going to get vericos veins!!"  Gee, Mom thanks for completely tapping into my insecurities and killing my self esteem.  It's your genes screwing me once again.

Moral of the story, mother nature always wins

Sunday as I was digging up the (ugly) ferns around my house a bug (hornet, bee, wasp? I dunno) flew up and stung me .... behind my ear ....

The pain was instant and so intense I thought I had been shocked by my MP3 player.

I went inside and brushed my 'ear' off and felt around it to see if I could tell where I had been stung.

Later that night as I was getting ready for bed I noticed in the mirror a three inch diameter swollen and red cirlce by my 'ear.'

Panic set in.  This was the first time I had been stung since Lymes Disease and I didn't know how I'd react.

Lymes Disease? What, you say you don't know the tale of when a teeny tiny tick bit me and then knocked me on my ass for three months?  Well then, let me regale you.

It was the Friday before the 4th of July weekend back in the ye olde year of 2004.  I woke up with a pain in my side and when I went to show my mom she discovered a 4 inch oval that was red and swollen. My knees were also bothering me so she decided we should visit the doctor.

Dr. dippy-dandy looked at my side and said it was probably an allergic reaction or something and took blood work.  He gave me a wimpy dose of antibiodics (like the kind used to treat a hang nail or something) and said come back when this three day supply is gone if the rash doesn't go away.

Achy knees turned into hardly being able to sit still to sharp nagging pain in my ankles, knees and hips.

I wasn't sleeping well and by the time Monday and my three day supply rolled around we went back.

The "welt" hadn't gone away, but really wasn't worse, and the blood work came back normal. He told me there was pretty much nothing he could do.  So I asked for something for the pain.  Obviously I was a just a college student looking for a high because he told me it was all in my head and I should just go home and try not to think about it. (Seriously.)


The passing days did not mark any improvement in my condition.  The pain was constant and so bad that if I sat down for any period of time every joint felt as though it was being seared with a white-hot flame.  The only relief I felt was when I was standing, moving or with cool baths, but as soon as the water hit room temperature it was unbearable again.  I couldn't sit still, let alone fall asleep. I went for three days with no sleep except for a couple of 15 minute naps in the time it took for the water to drain from the bathtub.

Needless to say, it wasn't a good thing for my mood, and my mom was getting a bit annoyed with how irritable I was getting. (She still points it out, but I'm all "give me a break, I hadn't slept for three days. Isn't there a study that no sleep for seven days and you die, five days and you go crazy? I was this close to absolutely losing it on you.")

At my wits end, and praying for some relief or death, we went back in to the doctor's office. 

Thankfully the original quack...er, doctor I saw was on vactation, so they gave me his replacement.  She took my temperature and reported a whopping 109 degrees.  Finally, she acknowledged something might be wrong.  She gave me a higher dose of antibodics, the "we don't know what the fuck you have, but this should knock the everything but the black plague out of you" dose.

These lovely little pills gave me a splitting headache.  So bad that I couldn't lift my head. And I thought not sleeping was rough.  These pills kept me on a pretty regular schedule.  Take a pill, contemplate throwing up because the pain was so bad, sleep for four hours.  Wake up, take a pill, cry because it hurt so, so much; sleep for four hours.  And on. And on.  Well, at least I got some sleep.

I'm not sure how long I kept this cycle, I lost a lot of hours.  But after the prescription was nearing it's end and I wasn't any better my mom made an appointment with the infectionous disease doctor.

I went to visit him, exhausted and in so much pain I could hardly move my limbs.  He took a blood sample and had it tested for malaria, west nile, lymes and other random third world diseases that might be lurking in the outdoors of Central Wisconsin.  The results would be back in a week.  In the meantime he gave me a different set of antibodics at a much lower dose to keep fighting whatever was ailing me--with the warning to stay out of the sun and watch for insects. 

What a fun summer.  I did get a mosquito bite that weekend though, made my arm swell to the size of an orange for a day.

A week later the result: Lymes Disease.  Yet another prescription of more targeted antibodics for another month and I was to come back in six weeks to see if I was successfully treated.  In October, I received the happy prognosis that my Lymes was treated, but I would always be a risk for achy joints and sensitivity to bugs.

I can tell when I'm stressed, getting sick or a really bad storm is coming on.  My knees, hips/lower back will hurt.

So back to the sweet little insect who stung me on Sunday.  The summer of the Lymes Disease flashed through my head as I fought back a panic attack and the urge to call my coworker to tell her if I don't come in any day this week I was probably laying dead somewhere in the house.

Monday the red circle had gotten bigger and I had to take out my 'earring' because the area itched so much.  By the end of the day I had a head-splitting headache and all I could do was lay in bed for three hours, willing it away.  My mom suggested benydril, so Tuesday I went to the store and got the biggest bottle I could find (and some bug spray). 

Swelling was still the same, but it took the itch away.  I got home from work on Tuesday, made supper, ate and sat down to watch a television show before I did dishes.  I woke up at 6:30 and only pulled myself out of bed to take some benydrill before I went to sleep for the night.

Wednesday I could finally see some improvement.  Oh joy! I wouldn't have to go to the emergency room! 

Today, Thursday, it's completely gone and itch free, so I could put my 'earring' back in.  Whoohoo, I didn't want the hole to close up.


All my life, I've been scared of spiders and snakes.  Guess I should have been terrified of ticks.  Now I get the hee-bee-jee-bees every time I walk under a tree or a bush brushes me.  Plus when we find a tick (and thankfully, I've only had one) I burn the ever-living-hell out of it.

Shape Up

Dear Birdies who frequent my feeders,

I had hoped it wouldn't come down to this, for we had a pretty amicable deal going.  You, birds of all types, race, genders and sexualities, could eat from my feeders whenever you were hungry.  In turn, I would be serenaded by your cheerful chirps, your witty banter and the various flutterings of wings or general tomfoolery.

But, as most situations, some birds spoiled it for the whole group (or perhaps, flock).

I feel the necessity to draw up this contract because recent evidence has shown a general disrespect for my time, possessions and generosity.

I ask that you respectfully follow these guidelines from this point forward or refrain from frequenting my feeders.  I will not apologize for any curse words or objects I hurl at offenders. 

My requests are simple and not too taxing.

1. Eat from the feeder, and stop throwing the seed on the ground.  This is more so a problem with the South feeder.  Should you see anyone eating carelessly please reprimand them.  Remember, small actions do truly make a difference.  Also, feel free to eat any seed that has fallen from the feeder.  Look past any barbaric trapping you may have about this and consider this "roughing it."

2. After enjoying your meal or snack, fly away from my property or in the very least, find yourself a tree before using the "restroom."  I expect not see any "accidents" on my driveway, front door, back step or car from this point forward.  If you need to do your business, by all means, visit the neighbors.

I realize I have responsibility in this relationship but feel as though I have upheld my side.  Feeders are filled promptly when they start getting low.  I do my part to keep your bird bath water fresh.

Really, these are my only requests.  I am disappointed I need to fill the feeder every week when I see all the wasted seed on the ground.  And I don't need any sunflowers planted, so don't use that excuse.  I enjoy your company but am starting to weigh the expense of wasted seed and cleaning supplies over an MP3 of singing birds and a study in feathers and wings screensaver.

Consider these points and note I'm not going to be so flexible if these problems persist.  While you're at it, have a chat with dear little bunny who gorges himself on my flower beds.  His fluffy little cotton tail won't save his ass much longer.

Sincerely,

the hand that feeds you