Probably the final installment of the" male half of the blog" mini-series:
I have lately at work taken on some copy-writing. Despite my lackluster presence on this blog, I like writing, and feel that, when I'm not just rambling on the keyboard (like, say, now) I can be a fairly effective writer. If not polished or experienced. Anyway, our writer was backed up, I had nothing to do, and one of the account reps said he had a radio spot that needed writing. The boss man said go for it. And I don't think I did a half bad job. Nor did the account rep, nor Mr. Boss-man. Unfortunately, The client is not so easily impressed. So I had to write a second, not-nearly-as-good-but-pleased-the-client script. Apparently reminded of my knack for creative writing, I shortly thereafter wrote a second radio spot, a couple ads and punched up some headlines. It's nice to be able to grow ones experience in different directions.
More recently, I bought myself a lecture series on tape about language. It's history and structure and the like. Interesting stuff. Very engaging lecturer. Keeps me intellectually entertained on my drive to and from work. For those interested in learning about a variety of fascinating subjects on their way to and from work, check out www.teach12.com. The language tape series that has me currently enthralled is "The Story of Human Language".
Monday, January 23, 2006
Stone-walling
Next in our mini-series of mundananity from the life of Tony...
Over a year ago, I bought some very attractive stone tiles for Amy's bathroom. (Amy's bathroom because she gets creative control over decorating it. Likewise, we have Tony's kitchen, which I expect to be thoroughly updating soon). These stone tiles, made of dozens of roughly 1 inch round stones mosaiced onto mesh tile, were promptly "installed" in the storage area of the basement (which is a bit of a redundancy, as that is what the entirety of the basement is). For almost a year, they waited for me to find (a) the time, (b) the knowledge and (c) the motivation to put them up above the shower in the bathroom. Sometime around about Christmas, I found all three.
Well, at least two of the three. Knowledge would come with experience.
It was knowledge that had kept me from the task for a year. I'd find a good, sturdy book on tiling. Filled with helpful illustrations and blue boxes with important notes and clarifications off to the sides. And without fail, it would omit explanation of how to do a step, make assumptions that one knows things that one resorting to this type of book wouldn't know, or offer instruction that went contrary to the previous books instruction.
Finally, I sat down with 4 different references, cross-examined and compared the information, and was confident I had constructed a workable plan for my project. So off to Lowe's I went for supplies. I've found Lowe's to generally be filled with people who are neither helpful nor knowledgeable, and have had many frustrated experiences there. This was not one of them. I found a salesperson who, before I knew it, had corrected half of my misguided 'plan', picked out my supplies, and given me a clear, straightforward to-do instruction list. Which worked very well.
Until the end.
For those who don't know, once you've got the tiles stuck to the wall, you have to mix the grout and smear it over the surface, getting it all between the cracks. The grout sets quickly (20 minutes, I was told) so once you start, there isn't time to waste. So, I mixed double the amount of grout I expected to need, just to be safe, checked that I had everything I might need on hand, stepped up onto the ledge of the tub, and set to work. Scooped a good pile of grout on my trowel, lifted it over my head to the wall above, and watched as gravity took hold of the grout and plopped it toward the tub's floor.
And it sets quickly remember. So I couldn't just say 'bah, I'll clean it up later'. I might risk having a permanent concrete-like lump in the middle of our bathtub. So I set to cleaning it up. Returned to, more carefully) spread the grout on the wall, occasionally dropping bits and slightly larger bits along the way. And, having lost so much grout to gravities seductive call, I got halfway done and had run out of mixed grout. Now panic was setting in. I'm mixing, I'm cleaning, I'm trying in vain to smear this cake batter-mixture from hell on the wall above me rather than below me, and cursing like a pirate with turret's all the while.
Amy choose this moment to treat herself to some coffee. Someplace far away from home. Smart girl.
In the end it looks very nice, with some incidental grout splatter on the joining walls and ceiling. I may get around to sanding them off before next year.
Over a year ago, I bought some very attractive stone tiles for Amy's bathroom. (Amy's bathroom because she gets creative control over decorating it. Likewise, we have Tony's kitchen, which I expect to be thoroughly updating soon). These stone tiles, made of dozens of roughly 1 inch round stones mosaiced onto mesh tile, were promptly "installed" in the storage area of the basement (which is a bit of a redundancy, as that is what the entirety of the basement is). For almost a year, they waited for me to find (a) the time, (b) the knowledge and (c) the motivation to put them up above the shower in the bathroom. Sometime around about Christmas, I found all three.
Well, at least two of the three. Knowledge would come with experience.
It was knowledge that had kept me from the task for a year. I'd find a good, sturdy book on tiling. Filled with helpful illustrations and blue boxes with important notes and clarifications off to the sides. And without fail, it would omit explanation of how to do a step, make assumptions that one knows things that one resorting to this type of book wouldn't know, or offer instruction that went contrary to the previous books instruction.
Finally, I sat down with 4 different references, cross-examined and compared the information, and was confident I had constructed a workable plan for my project. So off to Lowe's I went for supplies. I've found Lowe's to generally be filled with people who are neither helpful nor knowledgeable, and have had many frustrated experiences there. This was not one of them. I found a salesperson who, before I knew it, had corrected half of my misguided 'plan', picked out my supplies, and given me a clear, straightforward to-do instruction list. Which worked very well.
Until the end.
For those who don't know, once you've got the tiles stuck to the wall, you have to mix the grout and smear it over the surface, getting it all between the cracks. The grout sets quickly (20 minutes, I was told) so once you start, there isn't time to waste. So, I mixed double the amount of grout I expected to need, just to be safe, checked that I had everything I might need on hand, stepped up onto the ledge of the tub, and set to work. Scooped a good pile of grout on my trowel, lifted it over my head to the wall above, and watched as gravity took hold of the grout and plopped it toward the tub's floor.
And it sets quickly remember. So I couldn't just say 'bah, I'll clean it up later'. I might risk having a permanent concrete-like lump in the middle of our bathtub. So I set to cleaning it up. Returned to, more carefully) spread the grout on the wall, occasionally dropping bits and slightly larger bits along the way. And, having lost so much grout to gravities seductive call, I got halfway done and had run out of mixed grout. Now panic was setting in. I'm mixing, I'm cleaning, I'm trying in vain to smear this cake batter-mixture from hell on the wall above me rather than below me, and cursing like a pirate with turret's all the while.
Amy choose this moment to treat herself to some coffee. Someplace far away from home. Smart girl.
In the end it looks very nice, with some incidental grout splatter on the joining walls and ceiling. I may get around to sanding them off before next year.
Lights! Camera! Inaction!
Incredibly slow day at work means you get several postings from the silent partner today.
Since I've not been bloggerly of late, I'll take this time to catch up on recent events in my life with a mini-series of recent amazingly mundane adventures. First up:
Lights! Camera! Inaction!
Back in November I auditioned for an independent film. Just on a whim. Saw a poster making an open casting call and noted they needed a couple "male 20-30" types. Acting isn't something I've ever really put myself into - but I've enjoy what little experiences I've had (acting class, high school plays and the like). And, as there was a casting call poster in the Mishawaka Border's, and the auditions were taking place in on of the meeting rooms at the local library, the intimidation factor was pretty low.
Surprisingly, though it's a no-budget film, it has a decent script and seems to be pretty professionally thought out and structured so that it actually CAN be filmed on weekends and evening - around people's real life schedules. I did not get the part they had me read for (20-something Yale grad) - but I did make enough of an impression to get a call back for a second audition, and heaps of praise, with a lot of "I'm really not just being nice. I really mean it" thrown in. Right off the bat the mentioned that my lack of experience was actually refreshing, because they'd auditioned a lot of people with stage acting experience, and acting on stage and on camera are two very different things. It surprised me that anyone with actual acting experience wouldn't be aware of that and adjust for it. Seems obvious to me. Anywho, didn't get a speaking part, but depending on need and scheduling, they may call me in as an extra. We'll see. Regardless, it was a fun leap to take.
Since I've not been bloggerly of late, I'll take this time to catch up on recent events in my life with a mini-series of recent amazingly mundane adventures. First up:
Lights! Camera! Inaction!
Back in November I auditioned for an independent film. Just on a whim. Saw a poster making an open casting call and noted they needed a couple "male 20-30" types. Acting isn't something I've ever really put myself into - but I've enjoy what little experiences I've had (acting class, high school plays and the like). And, as there was a casting call poster in the Mishawaka Border's, and the auditions were taking place in on of the meeting rooms at the local library, the intimidation factor was pretty low.
Surprisingly, though it's a no-budget film, it has a decent script and seems to be pretty professionally thought out and structured so that it actually CAN be filmed on weekends and evening - around people's real life schedules. I did not get the part they had me read for (20-something Yale grad) - but I did make enough of an impression to get a call back for a second audition, and heaps of praise, with a lot of "I'm really not just being nice. I really mean it" thrown in. Right off the bat the mentioned that my lack of experience was actually refreshing, because they'd auditioned a lot of people with stage acting experience, and acting on stage and on camera are two very different things. It surprised me that anyone with actual acting experience wouldn't be aware of that and adjust for it. Seems obvious to me. Anywho, didn't get a speaking part, but depending on need and scheduling, they may call me in as an extra. We'll see. Regardless, it was a fun leap to take.
Cheesiest Update Ever
OK, I know the male half of this blog (me) hasn't posted in ages. And I'm truely sorry. Hopefully this illustration Amy mentioned a couple entries ago (in a comment under the entry "New Year") will at least start to make amends for my absence.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Lives Within Lives
Yesterday I was showing some friends pictures of the spleen that I removed last week. Jason commented that I have this whole other life from the one that they know me in. It's true, but as I thought more about it I realized that everyone does. It's not that we're all paranoid and super secretive, though I will admit that there are parts of myself I protect from everyone but a very few. I think that it's simply that we need to be so many types of ourself to navigate the world. I have my lab-time life and my work life and my life at home with Tony and our friends and family. I like taking of my doctor face at the end of the day. Whether I like putting it on is another issue entirely. Anyhow, Tony has home life and art director life. I know that my friends also have their own lives that don't necessarily intersect with mine and it's easy to forget in our interactions that they go off and do these amazing and interesting things. I feel really lucky when I can hear the stories later. Even if the stories don't involve spleens.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Parents Are Amazing
Truly!
About a week ago Tony's family visited us. Tony's family is wonderful and this visit included his brother, Seth, our sister-in-law, Amanda and our niece, Morgynn. we really don't get to see them often and we were especially excited to see Morgynn as there aren't many children in our life right now. We forgot, in our anticipation, all that an almost-three-year-old entails. Morgynn did really well with the house and the cats. Only one thing got broken. I got to see Bob do a classic turn and run (yes, nonanimated cats can pull off this move). And, we were exhausted the next day.
So, I am in complete awe of those of you who are parents (particularly of toddlers). Kudos to you for having the energy to keep up with them day after day after day. You have the toughest job on the planet! And thanks Mom and Dad!
About a week ago Tony's family visited us. Tony's family is wonderful and this visit included his brother, Seth, our sister-in-law, Amanda and our niece, Morgynn. we really don't get to see them often and we were especially excited to see Morgynn as there aren't many children in our life right now. We forgot, in our anticipation, all that an almost-three-year-old entails. Morgynn did really well with the house and the cats. Only one thing got broken. I got to see Bob do a classic turn and run (yes, nonanimated cats can pull off this move). And, we were exhausted the next day.
So, I am in complete awe of those of you who are parents (particularly of toddlers). Kudos to you for having the energy to keep up with them day after day after day. You have the toughest job on the planet! And thanks Mom and Dad!
Saturday, January 07, 2006
New Year
We spent a really nice New Year's Eve with Megan, Guy and their dogs. Fargo and Dakota are very good houseguests and Bob, our kitty, was too under the weather to cause trouble. I made my first venture into stuffed poultry (rock cornish game hens) and will soon be learning the best ways to handle poultry and stuffing. Thanks Guy and Alton Brown! I think the best thing that I cooked that evening was Winter Plum Soup from Cooking Light. It tasted great and made the house smell good, too! We played a very spirited game of Candamir that night and enjoyed Settlers of the Stone Age on New Year's Day. I prefer Candamir with four players, but it's nice to have a two-player Cataan game out there.
I've decided that every year needs a theme. I think that 2006 may be the Year of the Pirate at our house.
However, it may end up being the Year of Cheese. Any opinions on this? (Megan and Guy, I think 2005 may have been the Year of the Pirate for you).
Tomorrow is the final day of Christmas for us. Hmm, that adds up to 15 days of Christmas. I think we need to add on 13 chocolate covered coffee beans, 14 kooky paper clips and 15 caramels to complete the song. Happy New Year!
I've decided that every year needs a theme. I think that 2006 may be the Year of the Pirate at our house.
However, it may end up being the Year of Cheese. Any opinions on this? (Megan and Guy, I think 2005 may have been the Year of the Pirate for you).
Tomorrow is the final day of Christmas for us. Hmm, that adds up to 15 days of Christmas. I think we need to add on 13 chocolate covered coffee beans, 14 kooky paper clips and 15 caramels to complete the song. Happy New Year!
Friday, November 18, 2005
Return from Slacking
Have we been slacking on the blog? Yes.
Have we been slacking in life as we know it? Only moderately so.
Since we last posted there have been ...
A trip to Saugatuck where we met Jesus in a nice little cafe (pictures to arrive at some point) and
bought a really nice piece of furniture at a really good price.
Tony's return trip to Saugatuck to pick up said piece of furniture (some things just don't fit in the back of
a VW Beetle).
Halloween.
Our third anniversary (the cause of the aforementioned trips).
My 31st birthday. I felt so loved.
A trip to Indianapolis to see the Lord of the Rings exhibition. It was a wonderful geek-out experience
and as a bonus we ran into our friends Jerry and Michelle. They were leaving the Colts game while
we were leaving the museum. Jerry was painted blue and white. the Colts won. He was very happy.
It's always a bit odd to travel 3 hours and run into friends that you never run into at home.
A piece of our siding fell off while we were in Indianapolis (of course, it's been raing and/or snowing
ever since).
The first snow of the season.
I was given authoritah in the lab. I promise not to whack anyone with a baton, though. (Did you know
that just about everyone loves South Park? It's quite amazing!)
What lies ahead ...
Thanksgiving! Actually it'll probably just be me and Tony this year, but we're still going to feast and
use the good china.
I have a week's vacation in early December, may go to Kalamazoo to see the Chihuly exhibit, will go to
Chicago to see the Pompei exhibit.
Hopefulyy less slacking on the blog!
Have we been slacking in life as we know it? Only moderately so.
Since we last posted there have been ...
A trip to Saugatuck where we met Jesus in a nice little cafe (pictures to arrive at some point) and
bought a really nice piece of furniture at a really good price.
Tony's return trip to Saugatuck to pick up said piece of furniture (some things just don't fit in the back of
a VW Beetle).
Halloween.
Our third anniversary (the cause of the aforementioned trips).
My 31st birthday. I felt so loved.
A trip to Indianapolis to see the Lord of the Rings exhibition. It was a wonderful geek-out experience
and as a bonus we ran into our friends Jerry and Michelle. They were leaving the Colts game while
we were leaving the museum. Jerry was painted blue and white. the Colts won. He was very happy.
It's always a bit odd to travel 3 hours and run into friends that you never run into at home.
A piece of our siding fell off while we were in Indianapolis (of course, it's been raing and/or snowing
ever since).
The first snow of the season.
I was given authoritah in the lab. I promise not to whack anyone with a baton, though. (Did you know
that just about everyone loves South Park? It's quite amazing!)
What lies ahead ...
Thanksgiving! Actually it'll probably just be me and Tony this year, but we're still going to feast and
use the good china.
I have a week's vacation in early December, may go to Kalamazoo to see the Chihuly exhibit, will go to
Chicago to see the Pompei exhibit.
Hopefulyy less slacking on the blog!
Monday, September 26, 2005
Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail Part II: Out of the Closet
The book had been cleverly stashed in The Really Large Closet. The Really Large Closet is a wonderful place. It has three ascending levels and I can sit quite comfortably on the top one. I considered putting a light up there and some of our big pillows and making it into a little fort. That was before it was filled with comic boxes. Now, it just looks like an only slightly larger than normal closet full of random junk. That's actually what it is (filled with random junk, I mean). I think that that is what drew "Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail" to it. The Holy Grail could be in there and neither Tony nor I would ever find it. Luckily I found the book and there are still no library fines. Woo hoo!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
"Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail"
This the true title of a book I checked out of the library and have now lost. This is really disappointing for two reasons.
1. I had really enjoyed the little I had read of this nonfictional account of a punk rocker who decides to find the Holy Grail in France.
2. I enjoy being smug about not having library fines when Tony has to pay out large sums of money.
So, if anyone who attended the Katie Party happens to have seen "Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail" sitting around, please let me know.
While I was wondering where R.S. had gotten to, I went ahead and read "The Historian". While there are no aging punks in this book I really enjoyed it. I thought the concluding section felt a bit off, but overall it was well worth the hardcover price and I'm looking forward to passing it on to my Mom when I see her next weekend.
1. I had really enjoyed the little I had read of this nonfictional account of a punk rocker who decides to find the Holy Grail in France.
2. I enjoy being smug about not having library fines when Tony has to pay out large sums of money.
So, if anyone who attended the Katie Party happens to have seen "Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail" sitting around, please let me know.
While I was wondering where R.S. had gotten to, I went ahead and read "The Historian". While there are no aging punks in this book I really enjoyed it. I thought the concluding section felt a bit off, but overall it was well worth the hardcover price and I'm looking forward to passing it on to my Mom when I see her next weekend.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Katie Party aftermath
Another fine night of eating, drinking, laughing and karaoke-ing.
We can deem the part must have been successful, because it was a topic of much discussion at Amy;s work and lab, and two people have requested that we now throw a party in their names. Perhaps this is a chargeable service - "for the low price of $99.95, Amy an Tony party service will throw a party of your very own."
At 13 people, not a huge party, but within the area of optimal guests/fun/space ratio. Not a ton of leftover food. Lots of mess, but centralized to the kitchen, dining room, and back room (and, sadly, still present in the kitchen).
Although the blog is the place for breakdown of party minutiae, I'll leave that for Amy. 'Cuz I don't feel like it (and I'm at work right now).
Thank you all who came, shame on those who didn't (especially those who said you would but "forgot" or "double booked" or "didn't exactly give a reason, which might mean we don't want to know". You know who you are).
We can deem the part must have been successful, because it was a topic of much discussion at Amy;s work and lab, and two people have requested that we now throw a party in their names. Perhaps this is a chargeable service - "for the low price of $99.95, Amy an Tony party service will throw a party of your very own."
At 13 people, not a huge party, but within the area of optimal guests/fun/space ratio. Not a ton of leftover food. Lots of mess, but centralized to the kitchen, dining room, and back room (and, sadly, still present in the kitchen).
Although the blog is the place for breakdown of party minutiae, I'll leave that for Amy. 'Cuz I don't feel like it (and I'm at work right now).
Thank you all who came, shame on those who didn't (especially those who said you would but "forgot" or "double booked" or "didn't exactly give a reason, which might mean we don't want to know". You know who you are).
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Another Party - for Katie
We're having another party next weekend. My friend Katie requested another pajama party a few months ago. Now, while winter pajamas are cute and fluffy and cuddly, summer pajamas tend to be only cute. Sometimes they are even nonexistant. So, no summer pajama party. However, we're rarely opposed to having a party (it gives us an excuse to clean the house, after all) so next weekend Katie's party will become a reality. We've begun cleaning already and have purchased a new Karaoke Revolution disc in anticipation. We also bought some more Caramel Temptation. if we can't have real pajamas, we can at least drink caramel pajamas!
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Burgled!
So I might have next caught up and written a few words about my Father's (adoptive, not genetic) visit, or our weekend fun in Chicago. But instead, I'm compelled to share annoying crappy news.
We've been burgaled. Two nights in a row. Maybe three.
Nothing of tremendous value was taken. Petty Burglary. A weedwacker. A gaspowered lawnmower (which wasn't working anyway). An old bike (which may actually have been quite valuable in an antique/collectible sort of way - the jury is still out on that one). But ti's more the principle that's pissing me off.
It happens once, and oh well, things happen. But it is becoming a pattern. And I'm not sure how immeadiately anything can be done.
I went out to my car Monday morning to find the garage door open. And I was sure I had closed it. The I noted an oddly 'empty' spot in the garage. My mom's handed down 1978 Motebecane Touring bike was gone. This morning the door was open again (and you can be damn sure I closed had it that time) and we were minus one lawnmower. And a weedwacker, which might have been gone before unnoticed.
Our garage door auto opener and lock have been broke for some time. We tried to fix it a few times, but the "oh its easy, all you have to do is this" advice proved insufficient. I will confess to having a couple times in the past absent-mindedly left it open overnight. Obviously I'll be far less likely to do so in the future.
The truely aggravating thing is that there is no immeadiate fix to keep it from happening again. I somehow doubt we can get Lowe's out to install a new opener after I get home at 5:30. Or a locksmith. And I think our previous experiences have shown this is beyond and evening of 'do-it-ourselves". Maybe motion lights are easy to install. I can hope.
The other annoying thing (well, one of) is the dangerous desire to wait in the garage overnight and catch the bastard. Yeah. That's safe.
It's also tempting to play 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'. Stupid, but tempting. We have a lot of stuff that is broken/valuelss (old broken TVs, etc.) that we'd have to pay for the city to pick up with out garbage. Maybe I could just leave those in the front of the garage and get 'em toted for free. And encourage repeat visits from our freindly neighborhood thieves guild.
We've been burgaled. Two nights in a row. Maybe three.
Nothing of tremendous value was taken. Petty Burglary. A weedwacker. A gaspowered lawnmower (which wasn't working anyway). An old bike (which may actually have been quite valuable in an antique/collectible sort of way - the jury is still out on that one). But ti's more the principle that's pissing me off.
It happens once, and oh well, things happen. But it is becoming a pattern. And I'm not sure how immeadiately anything can be done.
I went out to my car Monday morning to find the garage door open. And I was sure I had closed it. The I noted an oddly 'empty' spot in the garage. My mom's handed down 1978 Motebecane Touring bike was gone. This morning the door was open again (and you can be damn sure I closed had it that time) and we were minus one lawnmower. And a weedwacker, which might have been gone before unnoticed.
Our garage door auto opener and lock have been broke for some time. We tried to fix it a few times, but the "oh its easy, all you have to do is this" advice proved insufficient. I will confess to having a couple times in the past absent-mindedly left it open overnight. Obviously I'll be far less likely to do so in the future.
The truely aggravating thing is that there is no immeadiate fix to keep it from happening again. I somehow doubt we can get Lowe's out to install a new opener after I get home at 5:30. Or a locksmith. And I think our previous experiences have shown this is beyond and evening of 'do-it-ourselves". Maybe motion lights are easy to install. I can hope.
The other annoying thing (well, one of) is the dangerous desire to wait in the garage overnight and catch the bastard. Yeah. That's safe.
It's also tempting to play 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'. Stupid, but tempting. We have a lot of stuff that is broken/valuelss (old broken TVs, etc.) that we'd have to pay for the city to pick up with out garbage. Maybe I could just leave those in the front of the garage and get 'em toted for free. And encourage repeat visits from our freindly neighborhood thieves guild.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
The Wife Has Returned
I made it back from California well educated and glad to be home. Monterey was nice and it was great to see Valerie, but it was very hard to be stuck in the same dark room for several hours at a time. I had scary flashback to E-100 the large, usually very dark lecture hall that sucked up many hours of my life between the ages of 20 and 22.
Tony did get a few things done while I was gone. The recycling got taken out, the kitchen is cleaner than I left it and our remaining baby dove is becoming more social. Unfortunately, Bob did some things, too. Urinating on the Welcome mat in the cafe room being the most significant. I'll see what nature's Miracle can do, but it might just be time for a new mat.
Last night was fun! Westayed in Chicago and went clubbing. This involved Tony playing sugar daddy and buying me appropriate clothes before we left the hotel. We tried 3 clubs, but only got into 1 because there was a special event going on at the second and we didn't really want to pay $40 cover for music we didn't care for at the third. Now Tony's napping (we rarely see 3am anymore) and I'm thinking that's a great idea.
Tony did get a few things done while I was gone. The recycling got taken out, the kitchen is cleaner than I left it and our remaining baby dove is becoming more social. Unfortunately, Bob did some things, too. Urinating on the Welcome mat in the cafe room being the most significant. I'll see what nature's Miracle can do, but it might just be time for a new mat.
Last night was fun! Westayed in Chicago and went clubbing. This involved Tony playing sugar daddy and buying me appropriate clothes before we left the hotel. We tried 3 clubs, but only got into 1 because there was a special event going on at the second and we didn't really want to pay $40 cover for music we didn't care for at the third. Now Tony's napping (we rarely see 3am anymore) and I'm thinking that's a great idea.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
When the wife is away...
...the husband falls into a temporary depressed state and accomplishes nothing.
Amy is at a vet conference in California this week. Leaving me with loads of time to get things done in a distractionless environment.
Or not.
Mostly not, so far.
Amy is at a vet conference in California this week. Leaving me with loads of time to get things done in a distractionless environment.
Or not.
Mostly not, so far.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Goodbye: finding words
I still feel like I should say something of my grandfather's passing. But while I feel compelled to say *something*, there is nothing in particular I am compelled to say.
I have yet to experience that moment of purging grief. Where you get out all the raw emotion so you can move past the event. I've had moments of sad quiet and eyes pooled with tears, but not that defining moment where I get it out of my system.
It makes me feel a bit guilty. That I don't have more mourning to exhibit. And I know that I'm being unfair to myself, everyone expresses grief and experiences loss differently, blah, blah, blah. But still I feel like my lack of emotional upheaval somehow devalues his life.
And maybe its just because he didn't die all in one day. He's been on the brink for over a year now. There were several times I had to reallign my mindset to accept the possibility of his passing. I had many moments to come to terms with his passing. None really definite. None conclusive. But enough to adjust to the notion.
In my eyes, in my heart, he didn't die last Friday. He died at some indeterminable point between his 50th wedding anniversary and Friday. Sometime shortly after Father's day, I think. During some gradual but not exactly slow decline, stopped speaking. Stopped eating. Forgot how to swallow. Lost control of his bowels. Technically, he was still alive - but the man I knew had passed on, and it was growing clear he wouldn't be coming back - or at least, not for any extended stay.
And there was a period of time, several months into his battle with cancer, that I expected him to make a recovery. He grew stronger. More able. Walked for short distances on his own. Engaged in conversation. Real conversation. More so at times than he did before the cancer started. Even as his strength slipped, there was still hope.
But after the celebrating (as much as he was able to do so) his 50th wedding anniversary, his health deteriorated rapidly. He had looked bad then, and I was told it was a 'good day' for him. I chose to say goodbye then - hoping it might not actually be the final goodbye, but accepting that it probably was. I wanted to say goodbye when he was able to say it back - and I wasn't sure he'd be able to do that again.
And it was a good goodbye. I asked for a big hug, and he squeezed me tighter than i thought he should have been able, in his frail state. And that show of strength gave me one last fleeting hope that maybe we one have another goodbye.
I wish I could say that had been our final moment. Sadly it wasn't. I called the house on Father's day - hoping maybe my father had called there and left a phone number recently (long, irrelevent story). I figured, as long as I was on the phone, I should take the opportunity to wish my grandfather happy father's day. Great idea, yet really not a very good idea. Even when fully cognisant, Grandpa didn't hear very well. My last moments with him involved me trying, wiht no success, to explain that I was wishing him "Happy Fathers Day", not "something bothers me" and certainly not "you are bothering me". My last moments were spent asking him to give the phone back to grandma, leaving him wondering why I had called to say that he bothered me.
I can take some small comfort in being sure he didn't retain that memory for very long. I kind of hope I don't either.
I have yet to experience that moment of purging grief. Where you get out all the raw emotion so you can move past the event. I've had moments of sad quiet and eyes pooled with tears, but not that defining moment where I get it out of my system.
It makes me feel a bit guilty. That I don't have more mourning to exhibit. And I know that I'm being unfair to myself, everyone expresses grief and experiences loss differently, blah, blah, blah. But still I feel like my lack of emotional upheaval somehow devalues his life.
And maybe its just because he didn't die all in one day. He's been on the brink for over a year now. There were several times I had to reallign my mindset to accept the possibility of his passing. I had many moments to come to terms with his passing. None really definite. None conclusive. But enough to adjust to the notion.
In my eyes, in my heart, he didn't die last Friday. He died at some indeterminable point between his 50th wedding anniversary and Friday. Sometime shortly after Father's day, I think. During some gradual but not exactly slow decline, stopped speaking. Stopped eating. Forgot how to swallow. Lost control of his bowels. Technically, he was still alive - but the man I knew had passed on, and it was growing clear he wouldn't be coming back - or at least, not for any extended stay.
And there was a period of time, several months into his battle with cancer, that I expected him to make a recovery. He grew stronger. More able. Walked for short distances on his own. Engaged in conversation. Real conversation. More so at times than he did before the cancer started. Even as his strength slipped, there was still hope.
But after the celebrating (as much as he was able to do so) his 50th wedding anniversary, his health deteriorated rapidly. He had looked bad then, and I was told it was a 'good day' for him. I chose to say goodbye then - hoping it might not actually be the final goodbye, but accepting that it probably was. I wanted to say goodbye when he was able to say it back - and I wasn't sure he'd be able to do that again.
And it was a good goodbye. I asked for a big hug, and he squeezed me tighter than i thought he should have been able, in his frail state. And that show of strength gave me one last fleeting hope that maybe we one have another goodbye.
I wish I could say that had been our final moment. Sadly it wasn't. I called the house on Father's day - hoping maybe my father had called there and left a phone number recently (long, irrelevent story). I figured, as long as I was on the phone, I should take the opportunity to wish my grandfather happy father's day. Great idea, yet really not a very good idea. Even when fully cognisant, Grandpa didn't hear very well. My last moments with him involved me trying, wiht no success, to explain that I was wishing him "Happy Fathers Day", not "something bothers me" and certainly not "you are bothering me". My last moments were spent asking him to give the phone back to grandma, leaving him wondering why I had called to say that he bothered me.
I can take some small comfort in being sure he didn't retain that memory for very long. I kind of hope I don't either.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Saying Goodbye
Tony's grandfather passed away last Friday. While this was expected, it was still very sad. He had struggled with brain cancer for 14 months and did pretty well for most of that time. On Monday night we made the trip up to Michigan so that we could say goodbye on Tuesday. It was a wonderful funeral, with lots of fond memories and a good amount of laughter. Grandpa Hayden never minded being the butt of jokes (although it's debatable how much of any given joke he heard) as long as there was laughter. I'll miss his big heart and his open expressions of joy and wonder at what his grandchildren accomplished in the world. I don't think that I'll miss hearing the details of bumper styling for the 1936 truck he was restoring, but you never really know. He welcomed me into the family from the first time he met me and I never felt like anything besides a grandkid who had stumbled into the fold a little later in life than most of the others.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Ooh, My Aura's Showing
We went to a psychic fair last weekend. It was my fault - I have a friend who has a friend who sees auras. She told me that mine was interesting, but never told me any more. I have great fun with these sorts of things, so I was intrigued and frustrated that she went back to Australia without ever explaining. I wanted to know what color my aura is. Aura reading was on the flyer for this psychic fair, so I decided that this was my chance to define "interesting".
I got home from work and dragged a less interested Tony to the bead store. I happily paid my $10 and was escorted into a dimly lit back room. The aura reader was a heavy-set black man wearing a nice black t-shirt and olive green slacks. His name was Bill. He did have an ankh pendant on, so there was some element of the mystical there. We introduced ourselves and the first thing that he mentioned was that he saw the seven dwarves and they looked very excited and cheerful. I wasn't expecting Disney references, but who am I to say that personal symbolism shouldn't encompass pop culture? I did tell him that I am a vet, so a good number of animal references came up. Lots of different kinds of dogs, which is apparently unusual, and he asked me if I'd ever worked with exotic pets (weekly), specifically monkeys (I like prosimians, but for most people that's splitting hairs) and snakes (one to twice a year) and cranes (on this one I've got nothin'). Supposedly it's bad luck to share the interpretation, but if you ask me personally I'll explain what it all meant.
What did I learn? I worked with animals in a past life when I was a man (he seemed to think that the man part would bother me, but who cares I'm a woman this time around). No matter where my life goes I need to learn about politics. And, underneath all of the creatures frolicking, my aura is white with yellow at my crown and blue at my throat. It was fun! I might do it again some time, but I think that I'll do a past-life regression next just to get to know this man that I was :)
Oh, Tony had a reading, too. His spirits were not quite as cooperative, but they did suggest that he eat more garlic.
I got home from work and dragged a less interested Tony to the bead store. I happily paid my $10 and was escorted into a dimly lit back room. The aura reader was a heavy-set black man wearing a nice black t-shirt and olive green slacks. His name was Bill. He did have an ankh pendant on, so there was some element of the mystical there. We introduced ourselves and the first thing that he mentioned was that he saw the seven dwarves and they looked very excited and cheerful. I wasn't expecting Disney references, but who am I to say that personal symbolism shouldn't encompass pop culture? I did tell him that I am a vet, so a good number of animal references came up. Lots of different kinds of dogs, which is apparently unusual, and he asked me if I'd ever worked with exotic pets (weekly), specifically monkeys (I like prosimians, but for most people that's splitting hairs) and snakes (one to twice a year) and cranes (on this one I've got nothin'). Supposedly it's bad luck to share the interpretation, but if you ask me personally I'll explain what it all meant.
What did I learn? I worked with animals in a past life when I was a man (he seemed to think that the man part would bother me, but who cares I'm a woman this time around). No matter where my life goes I need to learn about politics. And, underneath all of the creatures frolicking, my aura is white with yellow at my crown and blue at my throat. It was fun! I might do it again some time, but I think that I'll do a past-life regression next just to get to know this man that I was :)
Oh, Tony had a reading, too. His spirits were not quite as cooperative, but they did suggest that he eat more garlic.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Side of the Angels?
As a general rule, I don't want to talk about my job here. There are lots of reasons for my ambivalence, but I think that it might be good to talk about yesterday because it's weighing on my mind (I know, I know, ego blog) and because, frankly, just about everybody involved lost.
Long story short. Yesterday we were confronted with a truly tragic animal hoarding situation. Animal hoarding is the pathologic version of the crazy cat lady. Probably most crazy cat ladies would be diagnosed with whatever the correct psychological term is for this condition. Most of the time all of these pets (and there can be hundreds) are kept in a house/apartment/trailer. Sometimes the hoarder is able to lead an otherwise normal life, sometimes it's obvious that there's a problem. You've probably all seen these stories in the newspaper or on Animal Planet. The owner always has a sense of being the savior to these animals.
Right, so what was so bad about yesterday? Yesterday's hoarder was escaping from an abusive husband with her twenty-something cats in her car. She was also trying to get the cats vaccinated so that they could stay somewhere outside of her car while she was, presumably, getting her life together. Most of these cats and kittens were sick. Animal Control and the Humane Society were both looking for her and her carload of cats. In the end, she lost almost all of the cats (she was allowed to keep a few, healthy cats), a lot of hope and probably won't get the emotional and psychological help she needs. Did we do the right thing? Yes. Was she wrong to keep these cats with her in the car? Without a doubt. Will the cats be better off now? Those that survive (and I include the ones she was able to keep) yes. Will she make it to living a safe and healthy life? Possibly. I don't know the statistics, but I seem to recall that hoarders tend to hoard again even with treatment and I can't imagine she'll get any soon. Call me overly grim, but I worry that she might kill herself. She had herself, her car and these cats. Oh, and she was trying to do the right thing and lost out anyway.
Doing the right thing is incredibly bitter sometimes.
Long story short. Yesterday we were confronted with a truly tragic animal hoarding situation. Animal hoarding is the pathologic version of the crazy cat lady. Probably most crazy cat ladies would be diagnosed with whatever the correct psychological term is for this condition. Most of the time all of these pets (and there can be hundreds) are kept in a house/apartment/trailer. Sometimes the hoarder is able to lead an otherwise normal life, sometimes it's obvious that there's a problem. You've probably all seen these stories in the newspaper or on Animal Planet. The owner always has a sense of being the savior to these animals.
Right, so what was so bad about yesterday? Yesterday's hoarder was escaping from an abusive husband with her twenty-something cats in her car. She was also trying to get the cats vaccinated so that they could stay somewhere outside of her car while she was, presumably, getting her life together. Most of these cats and kittens were sick. Animal Control and the Humane Society were both looking for her and her carload of cats. In the end, she lost almost all of the cats (she was allowed to keep a few, healthy cats), a lot of hope and probably won't get the emotional and psychological help she needs. Did we do the right thing? Yes. Was she wrong to keep these cats with her in the car? Without a doubt. Will the cats be better off now? Those that survive (and I include the ones she was able to keep) yes. Will she make it to living a safe and healthy life? Possibly. I don't know the statistics, but I seem to recall that hoarders tend to hoard again even with treatment and I can't imagine she'll get any soon. Call me overly grim, but I worry that she might kill herself. She had herself, her car and these cats. Oh, and she was trying to do the right thing and lost out anyway.
Doing the right thing is incredibly bitter sometimes.
Monday, July 04, 2005
West Virginia Wedding
This July 4th holiday weekend Amy and I drove out to West Virginia for her cousin's wedding. It was a long-ass drive, but would have certainly felt longer (to me) if i had to drive more than a couple hours of it (the unwritten rule, which much of Amy's family seems determined to believe is some sort of cover story for...something, is that whomever's family is the cause/destination of the trip, that person gets transportation and agenda-making duty/priveledge).
We had a great time. The wedding was short and sweet, reception was quite nice - the 'second reception' with dancing/etc was cancelled in favor of a get together at families house - which was a load of fun. It's the first me I've got a good chance to really relax and get to know a lot that side of Amy's family. They are a hoot. They remind me very much of my own family, just a decade older and more settled.
The following day we spent a little time at John and Jamie's (parents of Erin, the bride, Amy's cousin) camper on the (Ohio?) river, went out on the jet ski, which was a lot of fun, and just hung out some more and said our good-byes. At least three times over. It's hard to actually *leave* when there's that much family. Just liike an event wiht my family. ).
And, as a special treat for the upcoming week, I forgot to pack my medication for the trip. My happy, emotionally stabilizing, keep me from unneccesarily spiralling into a shallow but unavoidable pit off frustration and helplessness medication. It usually takes a couple missed days for me to notice, and that effect doesn't generally hit untill the 3nd-5th day. Day 3, and haven't gotten fidgety yet. We'll keep you posted in any 'mundane adventures' result.
We had a great time. The wedding was short and sweet, reception was quite nice - the 'second reception' with dancing/etc was cancelled in favor of a get together at families house - which was a load of fun. It's the first me I've got a good chance to really relax and get to know a lot that side of Amy's family. They are a hoot. They remind me very much of my own family, just a decade older and more settled.
The following day we spent a little time at John and Jamie's (parents of Erin, the bride, Amy's cousin) camper on the (Ohio?) river, went out on the jet ski, which was a lot of fun, and just hung out some more and said our good-byes. At least three times over. It's hard to actually *leave* when there's that much family. Just liike an event wiht my family. ).
And, as a special treat for the upcoming week, I forgot to pack my medication for the trip. My happy, emotionally stabilizing, keep me from unneccesarily spiralling into a shallow but unavoidable pit off frustration and helplessness medication. It usually takes a couple missed days for me to notice, and that effect doesn't generally hit untill the 3nd-5th day. Day 3, and haven't gotten fidgety yet. We'll keep you posted in any 'mundane adventures' result.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)