Today is my last day in the office for the rest of the year. I have a nice two-week vacation to look forward to. The kick-off begins tomorrow, when I will sleep in for a change and perhaps spend the whole damn day in bed. Because I can.
You know me, I have plans, but it remains to be seen if any of them are accomplished. I'm on vacation after all. My plans include lots of reading and tea drinking and yoga and long walks with the dog, weather-permitting, and finishing up my Christmas shopping and having a gift-wrapping marathon, and maybe perusing the rough draft of my novel to see how awful it might be. I may attempt to blog, but I make no promises.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
my aunt's recipe for ratatouille
"The ratatouille is really simple, using your favourite veggies, butter the bottom of your baking dish, layer sliced squash, zucchini, onion, tomato, sprinkle parmesan cheese and small pieces of butter, salt, and pepper and any other spice you like in between layers at your discretion. I think I topped the final layer with the parmesan and spices and butter. Bake at 350 for approx. 40-60 min. until it is bubbly and has your olfactory lobes enticed !!!! You'll know when it's done."
Thursday, December 1, 2005
Did you miss me?
Yep, I did it - a 50,746-word novel written in 29 days. Crazy? Naturally. Challenging? Indubitably. Fun? Immensely.
For those of you who may not know, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a 50,000-word rough draft of a novel in the 30 days of November. Last year, 42,000 people from something like 17 countries participated, and about 6000 actually made it to 50K. (Everyone always asks why they don't call it International Novel Writing Month, and the only answer the sponsors have come up with is that it doesn't have the same ring to it.) This year, about 60,000 people participated.
Oddly enough, Maryland led the entire month with most words written - 7,148,797, at last count.
Perfection is NOT allowed in this event; messiness is, and that is how novels are written. Rough drafts are supposed to be mostly crap. You have to have something to polish later on for crying out loud – even Michelangelo had to start out with just a big lump of marble. Internal editors (those nasty voices in your head that beat you with a ruler and insist that you will never amount to anything and don't even deserve to hold a pen much less be let near a keyboard) are banned. They are given a month-long holiday, and if they won't go away even with that enticement, they are told to sod off and go pout in the corner.
It sounds insane and impossible, I know. I thought the same thing, and then I did the math. If one writes 1667 words a day or thereabouts, which takes a couple of hours, at the end of 30 days, one will have written 50,000 words. If one is smart, one will write a bit more than that every day, like about 2000 words, if one lives in the Real World and knows that Life has a tendency to make things happen that interfere with endeavors one might have, such as novel writing. Life decided to hand me a week at AHA in the middle of November, and while I tried to keep up my daily word count while I was on site, Dallas wasn't having any of it. Those faculty members would need to have an on-site contact, silly people. Fortunately, my enthusiasm for this utterly ridiculous pursuit hadn't worn off prior to AHA, and so I had written 2000 words a day, and then fell off the wagon entirely while in Dallas. I was in decent enough shape to catch up to it and jump back on again upon returning home, and writing 2000 words a day once again, I managed to finish with a day to spare.
For comparison purposes, a 50,000-word novel works out to about 300 book pages, which is about the length of the following:
Persuasion or Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling
A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle
Oh, by the way, the NaNoWriMo people have lots of cool activities, like building children’s libraries in Cambodia and Laos (see Room to Read, an international children’s literacy program), and things like that. They also send you lovely pep talk e-mails once a week so you'll keep at it, they did a podcast this year (WriMo Radio), and they even give you a certificate when you pass 50K.
So I know what you're going to ask - um, Cate, what do you intend to DO with this 50,746-word messy rough draft, now that you've written it? The NaNo people recommend putting it in a drawer or secure computer file for at least a month since you're probably sick of looking at it anyway. Then you can go back to it, if you can stand to look at it again, and see if it is polishable. So that's what I intend to do. Stay tuned to see if it ever makes the light of day or your local bookstore's shelves (it's true - people have actually published the cleaned-up versions of what they've written in NaNo-land).
And then there's the other question - what is your novel about, Cate? Well, it's a rather crowded ghost story that was inspired by two houses - one I used to drive past on my way to see my mom when she lived in Laurel; the other one was my middle-school-best-friend's grandparents' farmhouse in Ohio. Combined, they made a perfect setting for a ghost story, and it would have been blasphemy not to take advantage of that – when the Universe hands me something useful, I don’t argue.
I cringe to think how much tea and chocolate I consumed this month during the writing process, though it was all fuel for a good, though weird, cause. And I must give special thanks to Hunny and Louise, who kept me company while I wrote. Louise found that an amateur novelist's lap is quite comfortable for snoozing, and she even stretched out a paw every once in awhile to hold down the space bar.
If anyone is interested in trying it next year, http://www.nanowrimo.org/ has all the information you could possibly need. Sign-up begins in October, and you can sign up as late as November 25 (hope springs eternal, I suppose). I plan to do it again next year. I will actually miss my evening writing ritual. I have no idea how I will keep myself out of trouble now.
For those of you who may not know, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a 50,000-word rough draft of a novel in the 30 days of November. Last year, 42,000 people from something like 17 countries participated, and about 6000 actually made it to 50K. (Everyone always asks why they don't call it International Novel Writing Month, and the only answer the sponsors have come up with is that it doesn't have the same ring to it.) This year, about 60,000 people participated.
Oddly enough, Maryland led the entire month with most words written - 7,148,797, at last count.
Perfection is NOT allowed in this event; messiness is, and that is how novels are written. Rough drafts are supposed to be mostly crap. You have to have something to polish later on for crying out loud – even Michelangelo had to start out with just a big lump of marble. Internal editors (those nasty voices in your head that beat you with a ruler and insist that you will never amount to anything and don't even deserve to hold a pen much less be let near a keyboard) are banned. They are given a month-long holiday, and if they won't go away even with that enticement, they are told to sod off and go pout in the corner.
It sounds insane and impossible, I know. I thought the same thing, and then I did the math. If one writes 1667 words a day or thereabouts, which takes a couple of hours, at the end of 30 days, one will have written 50,000 words. If one is smart, one will write a bit more than that every day, like about 2000 words, if one lives in the Real World and knows that Life has a tendency to make things happen that interfere with endeavors one might have, such as novel writing. Life decided to hand me a week at AHA in the middle of November, and while I tried to keep up my daily word count while I was on site, Dallas wasn't having any of it. Those faculty members would need to have an on-site contact, silly people. Fortunately, my enthusiasm for this utterly ridiculous pursuit hadn't worn off prior to AHA, and so I had written 2000 words a day, and then fell off the wagon entirely while in Dallas. I was in decent enough shape to catch up to it and jump back on again upon returning home, and writing 2000 words a day once again, I managed to finish with a day to spare.
For comparison purposes, a 50,000-word novel works out to about 300 book pages, which is about the length of the following:
Persuasion or Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling
A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle
Oh, by the way, the NaNoWriMo people have lots of cool activities, like building children’s libraries in Cambodia and Laos (see Room to Read, an international children’s literacy program), and things like that. They also send you lovely pep talk e-mails once a week so you'll keep at it, they did a podcast this year (WriMo Radio), and they even give you a certificate when you pass 50K.
So I know what you're going to ask - um, Cate, what do you intend to DO with this 50,746-word messy rough draft, now that you've written it? The NaNo people recommend putting it in a drawer or secure computer file for at least a month since you're probably sick of looking at it anyway. Then you can go back to it, if you can stand to look at it again, and see if it is polishable. So that's what I intend to do. Stay tuned to see if it ever makes the light of day or your local bookstore's shelves (it's true - people have actually published the cleaned-up versions of what they've written in NaNo-land).
And then there's the other question - what is your novel about, Cate? Well, it's a rather crowded ghost story that was inspired by two houses - one I used to drive past on my way to see my mom when she lived in Laurel; the other one was my middle-school-best-friend's grandparents' farmhouse in Ohio. Combined, they made a perfect setting for a ghost story, and it would have been blasphemy not to take advantage of that – when the Universe hands me something useful, I don’t argue.
I cringe to think how much tea and chocolate I consumed this month during the writing process, though it was all fuel for a good, though weird, cause. And I must give special thanks to Hunny and Louise, who kept me company while I wrote. Louise found that an amateur novelist's lap is quite comfortable for snoozing, and she even stretched out a paw every once in awhile to hold down the space bar.
If anyone is interested in trying it next year, http://www.nanowrimo.org/ has all the information you could possibly need. Sign-up begins in October, and you can sign up as late as November 25 (hope springs eternal, I suppose). I plan to do it again next year. I will actually miss my evening writing ritual. I have no idea how I will keep myself out of trouble now.
Monday, November 21, 2005
don't forget the fairies
This is the third time I've encountered something that has to do with fairies this week. I wonder what that means.
This was in the UK Times.
The Times
November 21, 2005
Fairies stop developers' bulldozers in their tracks
By Will Pavia and Chris Windle
VILLAGERS who protested that a new housing estate would “harm the fairies” living in their midst have forced a property company to scrap its building plans and start again.
Marcus Salter, head of Genesis Properties, estimates that the small colony of fairies believed to live beneath a rock in St Fillans, Perthshire, has cost him £15,000. His first notice of the residential sensibilities of the netherworld came as his diggers moved on to a site on the outskirts of the village, which crowns the easterly shore of Loch Earn.
He said: “A neighbour came over shouting, ‘Don’t move that rock. You’ll kill the fairies’.” The rock protruded from the centre of a gently shelving field, edged by the steep slopes of Dundurn mountain, where in the sixth century the Celtic missionary St Fillan set up camp and attempted to convert the Picts from the pagan darkness of superstition.
“Then we got a series of phone calls, saying we were disturbing the fairies. I thought they were joking. It didn’t go down very well,” Mr Salter said.
In fact, even as his firm attempted to work around the rock, they received complaints that the fairies would be “upset”. Mr Salter still believed he was dealing with a vocal minority, but the gears of Perthshire’s planning process were about to be clogged by something that looked suspiciously like fairy dust.
“I went to a meeting of the community council and the concerns cropped up there,” he said. The council was considering lodging a complaint with the planning authority, likely to be the kiss of death for a housing development in a national park. Jeannie Fox, council chairman, said: “I do believe in fairies but I can’t be sure that they live under that rock. I had been told that the rock had historic importance, that kings were crowned upon it.” Her main objection to moving the rock was based on the fact that it had stood on the hillside for so long: a sort of MacFeng Shui that many in the village subscribe to.
“There are a lot of superstitions going about up here and people do believe that things like standing stones and large rocks should never be moved,” she said.
Half a mile into Loch Earn is Neish Island. From there the Neish clan set forth to plunder the surrounding country, retreating each time to their island. Early in the 17th century, the MacNabs retaliated from the next valley, carrying a boat over the mountains, storming the island and slaughtering most of the Neishes.
This summer Betty Neish McInnes, the last of that line in St Fillans, went to her grave — but not before she had imparted the ancient Pict significance of the rock to many of her neighbours.
“A lot of people think the rock had some Pictish meaning,” Mrs Fox said. “It would be extremely unlucky to move it.”
Mr Salter did not just want to move the rock. He wanted to dig it up, cart it to the roadside and brand it with the name of his new neighbourhood.
The Planning Inspectorate has no specific guidelines on fairies but a spokesman said: “Planning guidance states that local customs and beliefs must be taken into account when a developer applies for planning permission.” Mr Salter said: “We had to redesign the entire thing from scratch.”
The new estate will now centre on a small park, in the middle of which stands a curious rock. Work begins next month, if the fairies allow.
This was in the UK Times.
The Times
November 21, 2005
Fairies stop developers' bulldozers in their tracks
By Will Pavia and Chris Windle
VILLAGERS who protested that a new housing estate would “harm the fairies” living in their midst have forced a property company to scrap its building plans and start again.
Marcus Salter, head of Genesis Properties, estimates that the small colony of fairies believed to live beneath a rock in St Fillans, Perthshire, has cost him £15,000. His first notice of the residential sensibilities of the netherworld came as his diggers moved on to a site on the outskirts of the village, which crowns the easterly shore of Loch Earn.
He said: “A neighbour came over shouting, ‘Don’t move that rock. You’ll kill the fairies’.” The rock protruded from the centre of a gently shelving field, edged by the steep slopes of Dundurn mountain, where in the sixth century the Celtic missionary St Fillan set up camp and attempted to convert the Picts from the pagan darkness of superstition.
“Then we got a series of phone calls, saying we were disturbing the fairies. I thought they were joking. It didn’t go down very well,” Mr Salter said.
In fact, even as his firm attempted to work around the rock, they received complaints that the fairies would be “upset”. Mr Salter still believed he was dealing with a vocal minority, but the gears of Perthshire’s planning process were about to be clogged by something that looked suspiciously like fairy dust.
“I went to a meeting of the community council and the concerns cropped up there,” he said. The council was considering lodging a complaint with the planning authority, likely to be the kiss of death for a housing development in a national park. Jeannie Fox, council chairman, said: “I do believe in fairies but I can’t be sure that they live under that rock. I had been told that the rock had historic importance, that kings were crowned upon it.” Her main objection to moving the rock was based on the fact that it had stood on the hillside for so long: a sort of MacFeng Shui that many in the village subscribe to.
“There are a lot of superstitions going about up here and people do believe that things like standing stones and large rocks should never be moved,” she said.
Half a mile into Loch Earn is Neish Island. From there the Neish clan set forth to plunder the surrounding country, retreating each time to their island. Early in the 17th century, the MacNabs retaliated from the next valley, carrying a boat over the mountains, storming the island and slaughtering most of the Neishes.
This summer Betty Neish McInnes, the last of that line in St Fillans, went to her grave — but not before she had imparted the ancient Pict significance of the rock to many of her neighbours.
“A lot of people think the rock had some Pictish meaning,” Mrs Fox said. “It would be extremely unlucky to move it.”
Mr Salter did not just want to move the rock. He wanted to dig it up, cart it to the roadside and brand it with the name of his new neighbourhood.
The Planning Inspectorate has no specific guidelines on fairies but a spokesman said: “Planning guidance states that local customs and beliefs must be taken into account when a developer applies for planning permission.” Mr Salter said: “We had to redesign the entire thing from scratch.”
The new estate will now centre on a small park, in the middle of which stands a curious rock. Work begins next month, if the fairies allow.
Tuesday, November 8, 2005
novel progress
I’m up to 13,000 words in my novel. That’s 1000 less than my personal daily word count goal, but still ahead of the one they recommend, so I’ve got wiggle room. Last night was a wash because I had been in Delaware all day visiting a client. We were only supposed to be there for the morning and back in the office by early afternoon, but one meeting turned into four, and we were there all day and didn’t get back until after six. I had been up early to begin with, so I completely crashed when I got home. I actually look forward to my 2000 words a day. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be. It really takes the pressure off when you’re not so concerned with quality. I just put words in to get the word count up, and whenever I get the urge to revise, I just tell myself that I’ll fix it later. I’m better at revising and editing anyway, so I don’t anticipate that that will be a problem. Just getting something down on paper to work with is the hard part.
Friday, November 4, 2005
writing in Boston
I kind of liked Boston, what little I saw of it. Our hotel wasn’t all that great, and there is a lot of construction going on in that particular area, so it was noisy. We had a free afternoon, so my co-worker and I went across the street to Faneuil Hall, which is a marketplace-type area. I had a nice big hot bowl of pad thai that wasn’t overly spicy, and then a dark chocolate peanut butter cup for dessert. It was pretty much the best meal I had in the three days I was there.
Thirty can make the mind reel and make you do strange things, can’t it? I think that’s partly why I’m so into this NaNo thing – it keeps my mind off it, among other things. My mad dash for an accomplishment before the year is out. I am up to about 9000 words in my NaNo novel, which puts me a bit ahead actually, as my goal is 2000 words a day, so by today I should be up to 8000 words. I figure I may as well work ahead early, so that if I start to slack off at some point, which could be inevitable, I won’t have to do too much catch up. I ended up starting by just writing out the plot in paragraphs and phrases as they occurred to me, and then I just keep expanding on it, either adding description or dialogue where appropriate, and skipping around a lot, so if I get bored or stuck on a particular spot, I move to somewhere else in the list of plot points and start on that. Because I know this draft will be pretty terrible, and all I’m after is just a draft to be able to work with and revise (I’m so much better at revising and editing anyway), it’s not been too bad. It’s a matter of getting myself to sit down and do it every day. I have serious discipline and procrastination problems.
Thirty can make the mind reel and make you do strange things, can’t it? I think that’s partly why I’m so into this NaNo thing – it keeps my mind off it, among other things. My mad dash for an accomplishment before the year is out. I am up to about 9000 words in my NaNo novel, which puts me a bit ahead actually, as my goal is 2000 words a day, so by today I should be up to 8000 words. I figure I may as well work ahead early, so that if I start to slack off at some point, which could be inevitable, I won’t have to do too much catch up. I ended up starting by just writing out the plot in paragraphs and phrases as they occurred to me, and then I just keep expanding on it, either adding description or dialogue where appropriate, and skipping around a lot, so if I get bored or stuck on a particular spot, I move to somewhere else in the list of plot points and start on that. Because I know this draft will be pretty terrible, and all I’m after is just a draft to be able to work with and revise (I’m so much better at revising and editing anyway), it’s not been too bad. It’s a matter of getting myself to sit down and do it every day. I have serious discipline and procrastination problems.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Halloween resolutions
I'm sitting in the lobby of a client's office building. We drove all the way up to Delaware for a 5 pm meeting, only to be late due to traffic and to find out once we got here that my name hadn't been added to the visitors' list, and security is so tight in this place that there was no way they were going to let me in. So the others went to the meeting, and I'm waiting in the lobby.
It's been a messy month. Broke up with boyfriend. Got back together. Broke up again. I've decided that instead of eating entire chocolate cakes in one sitting and feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to do something productive. Like write a novel. In a month. With 60,000 other people. The Halloween spirits are helping me with a plot outline tonight.
I'm off to the land of NaNoWriMo (and, some might add, of my rocker), so I may not blog much in the next month. I've got 50,000 words to commit to a file in 30 days.
It's been a messy month. Broke up with boyfriend. Got back together. Broke up again. I've decided that instead of eating entire chocolate cakes in one sitting and feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to do something productive. Like write a novel. In a month. With 60,000 other people. The Halloween spirits are helping me with a plot outline tonight.
I'm off to the land of NaNoWriMo (and, some might add, of my rocker), so I may not blog much in the next month. I've got 50,000 words to commit to a file in 30 days.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
more vampires on broadway
Sooner or later, I'll get around to seeing Lestat on Broadway. Why did no one think of this idea sooner?
Saturday, October 22, 2005
sweating to the exam
I took my ELS exam this afternoon. The weather was cold and damp and windy. I had no trouble getting to the Silver Spring metro and getting to GWU, and I ended up there quite early.It's a dinky inn– whatever picture they're using on their Web site is not what the place actually looks like, so no nice lunch before test. I did manage to walk around a bit and found a Starbucks, so I had a sandwich and some tea there (or the innards of a sandwich, anyway, sinceI'm having gluten problems these days). The test was hard. I'm hoping I'll pass it, but it might be just barely.They tell you in the study materials that there are 300 questions, but there were actually only 110, and I barely got done with them in 3 hours.Some of the questions were a little strange– a few dealt with the Board's code of ethics, and that made me mad, because the study guide is so vague and doesn't tell you what to study, so there was no mention that that would be on the exam.When I got home, I tried to look up their code of ethics on their web site, but couldn't find them anywhere, so I don't see how they can ask questions about that if you have no access to the information. That doesn't seem fair.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
room to move
It's packing week for the move to the new office building. I've heard a rumor that the accent wall in my new office is burnt orange. (loud sigh here) The thought of having to look at that every day makes me irritable. Maybe I can arrange my office furniture so that I sit with my back to that wall, and maybe I can get some really big prints to cover it.
We're packing things in crates, which are not the wooden things that I think of when I think of crates, but are big plastic blue bins with locking tops. I managed to get all of my stuff into four bins - not bad for four and a half years' accumulation. We've all thrown out a ton of stuff - mainly paper. Every stick of furniture is labeled with a room designation. Jackie is running this shindig, and I hope they give her a bonus for it, because she's going to be up for three days straight making sure the movers get things out of one building and into another.
We're packing things in crates, which are not the wooden things that I think of when I think of crates, but are big plastic blue bins with locking tops. I managed to get all of my stuff into four bins - not bad for four and a half years' accumulation. We've all thrown out a ton of stuff - mainly paper. Every stick of furniture is labeled with a room designation. Jackie is running this shindig, and I hope they give her a bonus for it, because she's going to be up for three days straight making sure the movers get things out of one building and into another.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
back to Florida
This time to Boca Raton, a few hours ahead of Hurricane Rita. I endured a bumpy ride, which I hate. Actually, I hate the whole act of traveling - I don't mind being in a new place, just the process of getting there. I hate worrying about getting to the airport in enough time to check in and go through security. I hate waiting at the gates. I hate dragging my luggage around (though I hate waiting at baggage claim even more). I hate crowding into seats. I hate the noise of the plane. I hate feeling sick to my stomach and having to desperately suck on candied ginger. I hate catching colds from the re-circulated air. I hate having to go find the car to take me to the hotel. I hate the uncomfortable silence and the small talk in the car with the driver.
The hotel is painted bright pink on the outside, and the inside is dim and looks rather Spanish medieval, with lots of tapestries and dark wood and stone steps and wall sconces and pointed archways. The layout is a little weird too, with hallways and stairwells in odd places. I've gotten myself lost several times already, and it's not an overly big place.
I have to edit 140 PowerPoint slides tonight. I plan to do so in bed, with the TV on. I may even get brave enough to order room service.
The hotel is painted bright pink on the outside, and the inside is dim and looks rather Spanish medieval, with lots of tapestries and dark wood and stone steps and wall sconces and pointed archways. The layout is a little weird too, with hallways and stairwells in odd places. I've gotten myself lost several times already, and it's not an overly big place.
I have to edit 140 PowerPoint slides tonight. I plan to do so in bed, with the TV on. I may even get brave enough to order room service.
Sunday, September 4, 2005
engaged!
No, not me. Emily. After six years, it's about time she and Jamie decided things one way or the other.
The whole family met at Red Robin for Em's birthday dinner. Em met me in the parking lot, and she looked a little dazed. She walked right up to me and just said, "I'm getting married," and showed me the ring. It's a nice ring, too.
Hugs all around. She asked me not to tell Dad because she wanted to tell him herself. When we were seated, she kept her left hand under the table. Dad was perusing the menu, and Em suddenly pushed the pepper shaker toward him, with her left hand, and insisted that he must want some pepper. He was pre-occupied with the menu, and wasn't paying attention. Sharon, however, got the point. So she nudged Dad, who saw the ring, and shook Jamie's hand and said "Well done." I heartily agree.
The whole family met at Red Robin for Em's birthday dinner. Em met me in the parking lot, and she looked a little dazed. She walked right up to me and just said, "I'm getting married," and showed me the ring. It's a nice ring, too.
Hugs all around. She asked me not to tell Dad because she wanted to tell him herself. When we were seated, she kept her left hand under the table. Dad was perusing the menu, and Em suddenly pushed the pepper shaker toward him, with her left hand, and insisted that he must want some pepper. He was pre-occupied with the menu, and wasn't paying attention. Sharon, however, got the point. So she nudged Dad, who saw the ring, and shook Jamie's hand and said "Well done." I heartily agree.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Hunny's turn at the vet
My dog is stoned out of her mind. She had a benign tumor removed from her back leg today. The vet gave her some painkillers, and now she's lying on the floor, in sphinx position, and keeps leaning to one side and then righting herself. She follows the sound of my voice, but she doesn't look directly at me.
The incision is bigger than I expected - nearly four inches - and it's held together with what look like staples. It looks really uncomfortable.
This kind of thing reminds me that Hunny is getting old. She's 10, though she acts and looks as though she's five. It must be Puppy Mind.
The incision is bigger than I expected - nearly four inches - and it's held together with what look like staples. It looks really uncomfortable.
This kind of thing reminds me that Hunny is getting old. She's 10, though she acts and looks as though she's five. It must be Puppy Mind.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
how I spent my afternoon
It's incredibly hot outside, but of course, we just had to go see the new office building, and find out after we get there that we can't go inside due the remodeling, and must stand outside in the parking lot in the heat listening to a speech about how the building was chosen as the company's new location, and then go back to our old office and get back to work. I don't know whether to laugh or spit at someone.
Monday, August 1, 2005
the problem of Milo
My car is driving me nuts. It chooses not to start at the oddest times. I've taken it to the shop, but the mechanics can't find anything wrong, and of course, the car starts right up whenever they try it.
I've been told it could be one of a few things: the battery, the starter, the ignition system, or the fuel system. Someone who shall remain nameless casually said that I should "just buy a new one," as though a money tree should be readily available.
I'm so enjoying not having a car payment, but if I can't fix this starting problem, I may have to get another one. Everyone's been giving me opinions on what I should get, and their opinions tend to be whatever car they happen to own at the moment.
I've been told it could be one of a few things: the battery, the starter, the ignition system, or the fuel system. Someone who shall remain nameless casually said that I should "just buy a new one," as though a money tree should be readily available.
I'm so enjoying not having a car payment, but if I can't fix this starting problem, I may have to get another one. Everyone's been giving me opinions on what I should get, and their opinions tend to be whatever car they happen to own at the moment.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Amelia Island, the end
Donna has turned mom on Sonnie. Sonnie wants to go home, and Donna said she could go home early if she could take a shower by herself and pack her own suitcase.
The docs had a late night of karaoke, making do with a Barbie karaoke machine that Carlos managed to find. Dr. D had incriminating pictures of the event.
I'm so ready to go home and get out of Florida air and back into Maryland air. I can already feel a head cold coming on.
The docs had a late night of karaoke, making do with a Barbie karaoke machine that Carlos managed to find. Dr. D had incriminating pictures of the event.
I'm so ready to go home and get out of Florida air and back into Maryland air. I can already feel a head cold coming on.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Amelia Island, part 3
Sonnie is very sick - headache, nausea, vomiting, dizziness. She ended up going to the hospital. Our faculty are worried about her, and several have volunteered to go to the hospital and have a look at her. Since Bob and I aren't sick, I'm hoping it wasn't my cooking that did her in.
I suspect Dr. D will want to do some karaoke tonight. I think I'll plead headache to get out of it.
I really must learn to dress more warmly for these meetings. It may be sweltering hot outside, but they keep these meeting rooms at icebox temperatures! And unfortunately, being cold makes me sleepy. I was yawning through the entire meeting - the moderator looked at me several times. I wonder if he'd believe me if I explained that it was the room temperature and not the content making me sleepy.
I suspect Dr. D will want to do some karaoke tonight. I think I'll plead headache to get out of it.
I really must learn to dress more warmly for these meetings. It may be sweltering hot outside, but they keep these meeting rooms at icebox temperatures! And unfortunately, being cold makes me sleepy. I was yawning through the entire meeting - the moderator looked at me several times. I wonder if he'd believe me if I explained that it was the room temperature and not the content making me sleepy.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Amelia Island, part 2
I had lunch with Sonnie and Bob in an odd place yesterday. It was part cafe, part grocery store. The produce bins were behind me, and the meat counter was opposite me. I ended up buying stuff to make us all dinner last night. It was a basic stir fry, but it beat hotel food.
Did I mention that there's a tea kettle in my condo? (They haven't kicked me out yet.) I can have a decent cup of tea made properly with boiling water instead of the lukewarm coffee-water I usually end up with on these trips. It really is the little things...
Did I mention that there's a tea kettle in my condo? (They haven't kicked me out yet.) I can have a decent cup of tea made properly with boiling water instead of the lukewarm coffee-water I usually end up with on these trips. It really is the little things...
Friday, July 15, 2005
Amelia Island
Florida is no longer on my list of places to live. It's too hot and too muggy. How do people stand it?
I was tired, hot, hungry, and cross by the time I arrived at the registration center on this island. The place is so bloody big that you have to take a tram to get everywhere. I somehow ended up with a condo, though I'm sure it's some sort of mistake, and they'll come and kick me out soon enough. Too bad the fridge and pantry aren't stocked. I could actually cook my own meals instead of being subjected to hotel food.
I was tired, hot, hungry, and cross by the time I arrived at the registration center on this island. The place is so bloody big that you have to take a tram to get everywhere. I somehow ended up with a condo, though I'm sure it's some sort of mistake, and they'll come and kick me out soon enough. Too bad the fridge and pantry aren't stocked. I could actually cook my own meals instead of being subjected to hotel food.
Monday, July 11, 2005
good and bad
The good news is that I didn't have to go to the Chicago heart failure program after all. The bad news is that I have to go to Florida for the advisory board two days earlier than I had planned (I hate being the recipient of last-minute on-site staffing decisions). This means that I have to give up my entire weekend, and I won't be home when the new Harry Potter book arrives. I am miffed on both counts.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
the other side
We realized that we should have gone to the restaurant on the other side of the hotel yesterday. It's so much better! I had an amazing cobb salad with grilled shrimp.
For dinner, we went to Benihana's and got a bit of a table show, which is to say, they cook your dinner in a fancy way right in front of you. The chefs seemed bored though. Maybe it does get mundane flipping knives and throwing food into people's mouths all evening.
There is an odd dichotomy in this town. Parts of it look shabby and dilapidated, while other parts look as though they've had a makeover with townhouses and cute shops and whatnot. the business district feels like a different place entirely.
For dinner, we went to Benihana's and got a bit of a table show, which is to say, they cook your dinner in a fancy way right in front of you. The chefs seemed bored though. Maybe it does get mundane flipping knives and throwing food into people's mouths all evening.
There is an odd dichotomy in this town. Parts of it look shabby and dilapidated, while other parts look as though they've had a makeover with townhouses and cute shops and whatnot. the business district feels like a different place entirely.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
pilot program
And so, we are in Harrisburg, PA. The first hotel room I was given smelled strongly of stale cigarette smoke. I always ask for a non-smoking room, so I had to be fussy for once and ask for a different room. And then there was no snack bar in any of the rooms. It's almost a ritual for me to unpack, grab a granola bar or M&Ms and some juice from the snack bar and see if, for once, I might have a decent view from my window. It almost upsets the balance not to have this ritual.
We had a horrible lunch at one of the hotel restaurants. Somehow, they even managed to ruin the stir-fried rice.
We had a horrible lunch at one of the hotel restaurants. Somehow, they even managed to ruin the stir-fried rice.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
protect your potato
I've decided not to give out the name of the restaurant we were at tonight for Dad's birthday. It's enough to say that when a waitress squeeze open your baked sweet potato herself, without even asking you if that's all right, it's time to eat elsewhere. Potatoes are personal things - baked potatoes, doubly so. It's like someone freely dipping their fingers into your bowl of soup. And who said I wanted my potato squeezed open anyway?
I ate the steamed shrimp, and I ended up taking the green beans and the potato home. I don't know if I can bring myself to eat the abused potato now.
I ate the steamed shrimp, and I ended up taking the green beans and the potato home. I don't know if I can bring myself to eat the abused potato now.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Sunday dinner
It's been awhile since I've cooked (or attended, for that matter) a Sunday dinner. I went all out - a roast chicken (which christened my new stoneware baking dish), rice, vegetables, and fruit with crumb topping.
I've figured out why I don't do the Sunday dinner thing all that often, too. The dishes. My kitchen looks like someone had a nervous breakdown in it. It's a tiny kitchen, though. One dish out of place makes the whole room look cluttered. Maybe if I had a bigger kitchen, I'd cook more.
I've figured out why I don't do the Sunday dinner thing all that often, too. The dishes. My kitchen looks like someone had a nervous breakdown in it. It's a tiny kitchen, though. One dish out of place makes the whole room look cluttered. Maybe if I had a bigger kitchen, I'd cook more.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
museum recommendation
I took Mom and Steve to the National Museum of the American Indian (http://www.nmai.si.edu/) today. I liked the look of the building - it's fairly new, but it looks like rough stone that's been shaped by the elements for thousands of years. It's hard to believe that the DC area was once wetlands.
It's a huge building - four stories, spacious and well lit inside, though most of the light is coming from outside.
We were clever and decided to start at the top floor and work our way down. Each of the exhibit rooms has smaller circular sections packed with artifacts - clothes, pottery, blankets, headdresses, jewelry, art. Some rooms have TVs playing mini-documentaries on a continuous loop. It's almost sensory overload.
I've read that the museum received an overwhelming number of donations from tribes all across the country and down into South America. Conversely, the museum acquired pieces that tribes had lost years, and even centuries, ago, and amazingly, gave the pieces back to the tribes.
My favorite room had walls that were painted to look like clouds. In the center of the room, there was a low altar made of walking staffs, and stones and hats and feathers, all lying on a large red cloth. There were several flat-screen TVs on the walls, each showing images with narration. The voice of the narrator was hypnotic - he spoke clearly, but softly. He talked about Christianity, children, the weather, spirits, war.
We came out of the building a bit dazed and just in time for a quick downpour. I'll definitely go back.
It's a huge building - four stories, spacious and well lit inside, though most of the light is coming from outside.
We were clever and decided to start at the top floor and work our way down. Each of the exhibit rooms has smaller circular sections packed with artifacts - clothes, pottery, blankets, headdresses, jewelry, art. Some rooms have TVs playing mini-documentaries on a continuous loop. It's almost sensory overload.
I've read that the museum received an overwhelming number of donations from tribes all across the country and down into South America. Conversely, the museum acquired pieces that tribes had lost years, and even centuries, ago, and amazingly, gave the pieces back to the tribes.
My favorite room had walls that were painted to look like clouds. In the center of the room, there was a low altar made of walking staffs, and stones and hats and feathers, all lying on a large red cloth. There were several flat-screen TVs on the walls, each showing images with narration. The voice of the narrator was hypnotic - he spoke clearly, but softly. He talked about Christianity, children, the weather, spirits, war.
We came out of the building a bit dazed and just in time for a quick downpour. I'll definitely go back.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
new day, new job
Not only was there a birthday to be had this past week, but a new job title to take on as well. I went from Medical Editor to Medical Writer, and I even got a little pay raise with it too, which I wasn't expecting. I've dabbled in writing medical stuff, now it's time to jump in entirely. I'm looking forward to learning instead of teaching for a change.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
party on the farm
Mary Jo and Buck hosted the family reunion/triple birthday party. Not only am I 30 this month, but Valerie turned 40 in April, and Dad will be 50 in June. Reason enough to celebrate, and with five cakes, no less. Ty and Joe took turns singing karaoke - Ty had his cowboy hat on and kept checking himself out in the window reflection. Joe kept his non-mic hand in his pocket - visions of a country-singing cousins duo appear in my head. A little girl who I think belongs to one of my cousins-that-I-don't-know-well was toting around one of the barn cats. The cat was taking it mightly well, though when it managed to finally get away from her, it looked exhausted and not a little irritated.
Val made me wear a princess crown all day. Buck barbequed everything in sight. Lots of pictures were taken, and I hope I get to see them.
Val made me wear a princess crown all day. Buck barbequed everything in sight. Lots of pictures were taken, and I hope I get to see them.
Friday, May 20, 2005
"...like my head against a board"
We wandered around wine country today. It might be a bit of a surprise to some that Ohio even has wine country. It happens to be mixed up with bits of Amish country too, but we were definitely in it for the wine. I had some ice wine at one very-dim-inside place. I can't figure out why it's so popular. It was like drinking really sugary syrup with alcohol in it. The bottle was pretty though - very thin and made of frosty glass. My favorite winery was the converted church. The pews were set up back to back, with tables in between sets of pews. I made friends with the owners' long-haired German shepard. She had rust-colored eyes and was quite at home with everyone.
At lunch, Karen surprised me with a birthday cake, which unfortunately I couldn't eat, owing to the gluten allergy, of which she was unaware. I felt bad about that. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the cake though.
At lunch, Karen surprised me with a birthday cake, which unfortunately I couldn't eat, owing to the gluten allergy, of which she was unaware. I felt bad about that. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the cake though.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
driving with Mom
I'm actually taking a vacation. I hardly ever do that - I feel guilty not being at work, and I cringe at the thought of what will pile up on my desk while I am away. However, it is my 30th birthday weekend, and that calls for some time away from the office.
Mom and Steve came all the way from Australia for my birthday. We drove up to Ohio today in a white mini-van. We were supposed to get a regular car, but due to the Preakness weekend, the rental place was out of the cars we had reserved. This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode in which Jerry is puzzled as to why the car he reserved isn't at the rental place - I now fully understand his sentiments.
We had a good time driving up. I did most of the driving, though I felt alarmingly like a soccer mom in the mini-van. It gives one a feeling of foreboding. We listened to part of the fifth Harry Potter book on CD, and we had packed the usual water and fruit and also dark chocolate, which I find more and more comforting on these little jaunts. We are also toting two birthday cakes, one of which is gluten-free, so that I can eat it and not regret it. Mom and Steve are fun to travel with, if nothing else than to listen to their banter. Mom tends to call Steve "Mr. Cameron" like in Jane Austen novels.
The trip up to Ohio doesn't seem as long as I remember from our summer trips when I was a kid (sometimes in an un-air conditioned vehicle with plastic seats). It used to take eight hours, and now it takes about six, which I suppose one can attribute to road construction and increased speed limits and fewer bathroom breaks. I love driving through the mountains in Pennsylvania. Being a suburbs girl, I don't often get to see that kind of as-far-as-the-eye-can-see picturesque scenery of trees and towns tucked in valleys and open space.
So I will be 30 in two days - a prospect I find only slightly alarming, as opposed to downright terrifying. I think I have accomplished a fair amount, though I have a bit of a nagging feeling that "I should have done more by now." I'm not certain what "more" is yet. I suppose I should take this 30th year to find out.
Mom and Steve came all the way from Australia for my birthday. We drove up to Ohio today in a white mini-van. We were supposed to get a regular car, but due to the Preakness weekend, the rental place was out of the cars we had reserved. This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode in which Jerry is puzzled as to why the car he reserved isn't at the rental place - I now fully understand his sentiments.
We had a good time driving up. I did most of the driving, though I felt alarmingly like a soccer mom in the mini-van. It gives one a feeling of foreboding. We listened to part of the fifth Harry Potter book on CD, and we had packed the usual water and fruit and also dark chocolate, which I find more and more comforting on these little jaunts. We are also toting two birthday cakes, one of which is gluten-free, so that I can eat it and not regret it. Mom and Steve are fun to travel with, if nothing else than to listen to their banter. Mom tends to call Steve "Mr. Cameron" like in Jane Austen novels.
The trip up to Ohio doesn't seem as long as I remember from our summer trips when I was a kid (sometimes in an un-air conditioned vehicle with plastic seats). It used to take eight hours, and now it takes about six, which I suppose one can attribute to road construction and increased speed limits and fewer bathroom breaks. I love driving through the mountains in Pennsylvania. Being a suburbs girl, I don't often get to see that kind of as-far-as-the-eye-can-see picturesque scenery of trees and towns tucked in valleys and open space.
So I will be 30 in two days - a prospect I find only slightly alarming, as opposed to downright terrifying. I think I have accomplished a fair amount, though I have a bit of a nagging feeling that "I should have done more by now." I'm not certain what "more" is yet. I suppose I should take this 30th year to find out.
Friday, April 29, 2005
trip next door
So I meant to go to the Museum of Modern Art today, and even made a point to leave my hotel early, but then I saw the crowds, literally spilling out onto the street (which in NY doesn't strike me as a good idea). Then I noticed a folk art museum next door, and there was no line outside of that, so in I went, and in less than a minute, I had a ticket and was wandering in the first gallery without having to wait in line or elbow through crowds. There are five floors to see - sculptures, quilts, paintings, needlework, stuff you might see in someone's house really. I wish Diana had been there to see the quilts. She probably could have told me more about them than what I was able to get from the little plaques next to each one. There were a few more "modern" pieces - like the baby blanket made out of condom containers.
And I wish someone would give me a medal for walking around NY by myself. I still can't decide if that was stupid or brave.
And I wish someone would give me a medal for walking around NY by myself. I still can't decide if that was stupid or brave.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
I'm not sure I love New York
A train ride with Bob in the morning, during which he realized that he had forgotten his laptop. After this realization, he quietly excused himself and went to the dining car for a stiff drink. He read a bit of my Oprah magazine (5th anniversary issue) and then fell asleep. I listened to the first part of Quentins by Maeve Binchy on CD - short stories within a novel about a restaurant in Dublin - and hoped that the next two days were not going to be as bad as we were anticipating.
Our train got in later than expected, and the Difficult Client, wasn't pleased. The speaker was friendly and laid-back and had curly hair (reminded me of Chris' hair). The meeting room was freezing cold, and of course, I'd decided to wear a suit with a short skirt. I tried not to yawn too much during the three-hour presentation - it's not my fault that I get sleepy when I'm cold.
We got the attendees to their dinner, and then we sat in the lobby and complained about them for an hour. We have now been dubbed The Fab Four since we seem to be doing okay with the Difficult Client. Kim reserved a table for us in the bar, and we worked our way through wine, a lobster martini, and various other dishes - I had a double order of asparagus, and why didn't they tell us that the spinach was creamed? Yuck. The steak and potatoes smelled great, but I knew I'd never get to sleep if I had anything that heavy.
I'm looking forward to my museum trip tomorrow morning, though I'm getting more and more nervous about having to plow through the throngs of people in the streets, and it is New York traffic after all. I've decided to set aside a little time for myself on these business trips to get out and see where I am. This fly-in, work-fly-out stuff is ridiculous, especially since we hardly ever get to take advantage of the comp time we're supposed to get. So why not take a little comp time while you're working?
Our train got in later than expected, and the Difficult Client, wasn't pleased. The speaker was friendly and laid-back and had curly hair (reminded me of Chris' hair). The meeting room was freezing cold, and of course, I'd decided to wear a suit with a short skirt. I tried not to yawn too much during the three-hour presentation - it's not my fault that I get sleepy when I'm cold.
We got the attendees to their dinner, and then we sat in the lobby and complained about them for an hour. We have now been dubbed The Fab Four since we seem to be doing okay with the Difficult Client. Kim reserved a table for us in the bar, and we worked our way through wine, a lobster martini, and various other dishes - I had a double order of asparagus, and why didn't they tell us that the spinach was creamed? Yuck. The steak and potatoes smelled great, but I knew I'd never get to sleep if I had anything that heavy.
I'm looking forward to my museum trip tomorrow morning, though I'm getting more and more nervous about having to plow through the throngs of people in the streets, and it is New York traffic after all. I've decided to set aside a little time for myself on these business trips to get out and see where I am. This fly-in, work-fly-out stuff is ridiculous, especially since we hardly ever get to take advantage of the comp time we're supposed to get. So why not take a little comp time while you're working?
Monday, April 18, 2005
lunch with Gina
We had an awesome going-away lunch for Gina. This is one of the few reasons why I stay with this company - the partners in crime - a group of editors and writers and art & production people all laughing and eating and having a good time in the middle of a work day. It was like our own little Bloomsbury group or Algonquin Round Table, minus the booze.
Our going-away present for Gina was a ruck sack full of really useful stuff, like Reese's Pieces flavored lip balm, and sunblock, and gum, and books by Ernest Hemingway (the Africa-themed ones, of course).
I envy her this Exciting Stage of her life. I'm going to be 30 in a month, and I'm not excited or thrilled or terrified by it yet. Delayed reaction? Should I DO something to make it exciting and/scary? And if so, what?
Our going-away present for Gina was a ruck sack full of really useful stuff, like Reese's Pieces flavored lip balm, and sunblock, and gum, and books by Ernest Hemingway (the Africa-themed ones, of course).
I envy her this Exciting Stage of her life. I'm going to be 30 in a month, and I'm not excited or thrilled or terrified by it yet. Delayed reaction? Should I DO something to make it exciting and/scary? And if so, what?
Monday, April 4, 2005
so long, and send me a diamond
Sigh. Gina is leaving. None of us can blame her - her probable fiance is in South Africa, and she went to visit him. How often does one get to go to South Africa? We kind of thought this would happen. Actually, we expected that she'd come back with a ring - diamond mines in South Africa and all that - but she didn't. She did see a lot of diamonds, though. She said she got a diamond high. I wonder what that's like?
I predict she is the first of many that will leave the company. There's something brewing in the air, and I think we are about to see a mass exodus.
I remember when Gina started. She was late on her first day because her car broke down, and she was flustered for the rest of the day. She was very tan. She still is.
I predict she is the first of many that will leave the company. There's something brewing in the air, and I think we are about to see a mass exodus.
I remember when Gina started. She was late on her first day because her car broke down, and she was flustered for the rest of the day. She was very tan. She still is.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
silly me
I should give a plug to Cat Rescue of Maryland, which introduced me to Louise.
http://www.catrescueofmd.org/
http://www.catrescueofmd.org/
Friday, March 25, 2005
Louise is home!
Boy, did she yowl at me during the drive home. She doesn't appear to be any the worse for wear from the iodine therapy.
Louise is definitely not a worldly cat. She prefers to be in the house and not leave it if at all possible. She'll take a passing interest in the view from the windows, particularly if there are birds or squirrels in the trees, and she'll peek out into the stairwell when the door is open, but she has no desire to be out in the world. Her world is the house, and she's content with that.
I sometimes wonder what her life was like before she came to live with me. The foster owner said that Louise had been found hanging out with a feral cat colony. Was she dumped or did she get lost? How long was she on her own "out in the wild?" I don't like to think that she had to spend winter outdoors or get drenched in the rain. I've noticed that she's not afraid of thunder or lightening, so she must have been outdoors long enough to get used to it. I once found her sitting on the dining room table staring out the window watching a rather magnificient thunderstorm, and she didn't flinch once.
It's odd that she'd end up with a colony of cats because the foster owner said that she didn't care for other cats. In the foster home, she rarely came down off the shelf, except to eat and use the litter box. She's still a little jumpy and wary of strangers. She seems to get along fine with Hunny now. I've toyed with the idea of getting another cat, though a human, two cats, and a dog in the condo would probably be a bit crowded.
Anyway, she's home, and now all I have to do is flush her litter and keep my distance for two weeks, and then we can go back to a normal routine. RadioCat even gives you a bag of flushable litter and rubber gloves and a plastic scooper. They think of everything.
Louise is definitely not a worldly cat. She prefers to be in the house and not leave it if at all possible. She'll take a passing interest in the view from the windows, particularly if there are birds or squirrels in the trees, and she'll peek out into the stairwell when the door is open, but she has no desire to be out in the world. Her world is the house, and she's content with that.
I sometimes wonder what her life was like before she came to live with me. The foster owner said that Louise had been found hanging out with a feral cat colony. Was she dumped or did she get lost? How long was she on her own "out in the wild?" I don't like to think that she had to spend winter outdoors or get drenched in the rain. I've noticed that she's not afraid of thunder or lightening, so she must have been outdoors long enough to get used to it. I once found her sitting on the dining room table staring out the window watching a rather magnificient thunderstorm, and she didn't flinch once.
It's odd that she'd end up with a colony of cats because the foster owner said that she didn't care for other cats. In the foster home, she rarely came down off the shelf, except to eat and use the litter box. She's still a little jumpy and wary of strangers. She seems to get along fine with Hunny now. I've toyed with the idea of getting another cat, though a human, two cats, and a dog in the condo would probably be a bit crowded.
Anyway, she's home, and now all I have to do is flush her litter and keep my distance for two weeks, and then we can go back to a normal routine. RadioCat even gives you a bag of flushable litter and rubber gloves and a plastic scooper. They think of everything.
Monday, March 21, 2005
...it's so hard being a parent...part 2
I took Louise to RadioCat today. Who knew I'd miss her and worry about her so much, and not even an entire day has gone by? I am such a cat owner. They have a good system set up at this place. They obviously know what cat owners are like. The cats have nice, big airy cages. You can bring any toys or blankets or special food dishes that your cat is partial too, for that homey feel. Granted, you won't get any of it back since it's been exposed to radiation, but that's a minor issue, isn't it? They get your cat to eat as often as possible - the good stuff, Fancy Feast and all that. The more they eat, the more they eliminate. The more they eliminate, the faster the iodine gets through their system. The tech looking after your cat calls you everyday to let you know how your cat is doing. Not a bad deal for $1250. And at least this place is somewhat nearby, as opposed to having to drive several hours to another state. I keep telling myself that Louise will only be there for a week, but that seems like an awfully long time.
Her thyroid levels are really high, so they tell me, and that may mean a second treatment, at half the cost, of course. "This treatment will definitely bring the levels down," they say, though it's a matter of will it bring the levels down enough. I now know what savings accounts are really for.
Her thyroid levels are really high, so they tell me, and that may mean a second treatment, at half the cost, of course. "This treatment will definitely bring the levels down," they say, though it's a matter of will it bring the levels down enough. I now know what savings accounts are really for.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
my turn at the dentist
They like my teeth so much better now that the braces fixed everything. I'm just glad to have the damn things off. If I ever have to do it again, I'm going for Invisalign. No railroad tracks and visits to the loo immediately after every meal to dig out food from between brackets.
I've got two odd but lovable dentists. One likes to talk to you while she poking around in your mouth. If she were asking questions that can be responded to with "yes" or "no" nods, that would be fine, but she likes to have full conversations with her clients. Nice bedside manner and everything, but hard for the person in the chair to contribute. She likes my green eyeshadow. She could also tell that I'd had oatmeal for breakfast. The other one wears this magnifying glass headpiece thing whenever he's with a client. He does an oral cancer screening whereby he looks all around your mouth, wraps your tongue in a wet cloth and "promises to give it back" and moves it around too. Where DO I find these people?
I've got two odd but lovable dentists. One likes to talk to you while she poking around in your mouth. If she were asking questions that can be responded to with "yes" or "no" nods, that would be fine, but she likes to have full conversations with her clients. Nice bedside manner and everything, but hard for the person in the chair to contribute. She likes my green eyeshadow. She could also tell that I'd had oatmeal for breakfast. The other one wears this magnifying glass headpiece thing whenever he's with a client. He does an oral cancer screening whereby he looks all around your mouth, wraps your tongue in a wet cloth and "promises to give it back" and moves it around too. Where DO I find these people?
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
it's so hard being a parent...
...of a cat. Louise has her vet appointment today before she goes in for the radioactive iodine therapy next week for her thyroid problem. They want to do a chest X-ray and final blood work. It's all costing me a pretty penny, too, and I'm forking it all over without even blinking. When I tell people that this therapy costs $1250, they give me this look as if to say, "crazy pet owner, just put her down." If it were some kind of major surgery like heart or kidney transplant or something like that, I'd agree with them. But this is merely a shot in the bum, and a week's stay in quarantine until she's not radioactive anymore. No long recovery time, no special round-the-clock care needed or anything like that. Rather neat and clean and unfussy, really.
Friday, March 4, 2005
why I hate going to the doctor's
Right - I had to wait in line for a long time, then they tell me that their computer is showing that I'm supposed to have an appointment with a different doctor than the one I thought I was supposed to see, and therefore, I should be in the other line. Then I wait another half an hour to actually get into an exam room, only to have to walk right back out to get on the weight scale and look at an eye chart. The PA was very sloppy about adjusting the weight scale - I begin to suspect that perhaps all those stats about how fat we are in this country aren't accurate since they don't bother to get an accurate weight reading at the doctor's office. In the 21st century, you'd think they'd get digital scales rather than keeping those old ones with the little bars that you have to move, and while we're at it, why can't I move the little bars? I'm the one on the scale, after all, and I'd certainly be more accurate about it. I happen to know how much I weigh, thank you very much, and it's 10 pounds off (at least) in the medical record the PA was scribbling on. Who knows what he said about my eyesight. Finally, the doctor rushed it, rushed through my exam, and rushed out again. I realize I'm not suffering from any ailment, nor am I old and frail and about to keel over, but come on, at least pretend that I'm a patient.
Monday, February 21, 2005
unexpected holiday
I'm liking these additional days off. We had MLK's birthday as a holiday and now President's Day. We never used to get either day off. I almost go through vacation-day withdrawal every year because I take the majority of my vacation days at the end of December - a good two solid weeks, usually - so then to come back in January with the thought that my next day off might not be until Memorial Day in May is not pretty.
I'm intending to do many things today. I have good intentions, as Lyle Lovett would say, though I have bad follow-through on them. I intend to clean the house, do laundry, read, finish a painting, go through a stack of papers and file them, cook something interesting, and who knows what else. Any bets as to what I actually get done?
I'm intending to do many things today. I have good intentions, as Lyle Lovett would say, though I have bad follow-through on them. I intend to clean the house, do laundry, read, finish a painting, go through a stack of papers and file them, cook something interesting, and who knows what else. Any bets as to what I actually get done?
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
plan a novel with needles
It's an interesting phenomenon that when you stop for a minute (or several), I mean really stop and come out of the rushing routine whereby you have no time to notice anything, you notice everything, and ideas come forward that have probably been backed up for who knows how long.
So I was at the acupuncturist's today, lying on the treatment table with a needle in my ankle, one in my knee (and I swear those two were talking to each other), and a few others in various strategic places, and in the space of 15 minutes, I had worked out the plot, and I mean the entire plot, of an idea for a novel that I've been struggling with for several years now. The idea won't go away, so I assume that means that it wants to be written, but for the longest time, I couldn't see how the story would flow from beginning to end. And there it was in 15 minutes. Amazing. And all because I just stopped everything. Now if I can just remember it all so that I can come up with an outline and get it all written finally...
So I was at the acupuncturist's today, lying on the treatment table with a needle in my ankle, one in my knee (and I swear those two were talking to each other), and a few others in various strategic places, and in the space of 15 minutes, I had worked out the plot, and I mean the entire plot, of an idea for a novel that I've been struggling with for several years now. The idea won't go away, so I assume that means that it wants to be written, but for the longest time, I couldn't see how the story would flow from beginning to end. And there it was in 15 minutes. Amazing. And all because I just stopped everything. Now if I can just remember it all so that I can come up with an outline and get it all written finally...
Wednesday, February 9, 2005
hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the dental surgeon we go
Em had her wisdom teeth taken out today. I drove her there to provide sisterly support. She decided to go the full-sensory-deprivation-and-back-up-drugs route. Wise choice. I was only able to afford the novocaine, and then had to have it done in two sessions, rather than all at once. There's nothing worse than a needle in your jaw. Honestly, there IS nothing worse.
The surgeon is nice - one I recommend to everyone. She won't let you see the needle, and she makes you look up to the troll-with-the-wild-pink-hair sticker on her ceiling, so that when she does go at you with the needle, you can't see it.
I drove Em home and camped out in her dining room with my laptop (ah, the wonders of telecommuting). When I went into her bedroom to check on her, she had rigged up an ice pack consisting of two socks tied at the top with the ice down in the toe part. The whole thing hung around her head like some kind of new kerchief style, and of course, I didn't have a camera.
The surgeon is nice - one I recommend to everyone. She won't let you see the needle, and she makes you look up to the troll-with-the-wild-pink-hair sticker on her ceiling, so that when she does go at you with the needle, you can't see it.
I drove Em home and camped out in her dining room with my laptop (ah, the wonders of telecommuting). When I went into her bedroom to check on her, she had rigged up an ice pack consisting of two socks tied at the top with the ice down in the toe part. The whole thing hung around her head like some kind of new kerchief style, and of course, I didn't have a camera.
Saturday, February 5, 2005
more birthday stuff
Plans are underway for my 30th birthday in May. I asked for something simple and low-key with the family, and there seems to be some confusion as to what that means. I guess that means I need to take the reins and plan it. I'm thinking a picnic on my aunt's farm. I'm thinking my mother makes my cake, like she used to do for me and my sister when we were kids - she created some masterpieces. I'm thinking everyone gives me a piece of advice on turning 30 (to get it out of their systems) rather than tangible gifts. I'm thinking that the last time I had an extended-family birthday party, I was four or five. I'm thinking what's really going to change between 29 and 30? I'm thinking I'm too young to be 30. I'm thinking I'd better start being more grateful that people think I only look 25, because who knows how long that will last? I'm thinking I should have accomplished more by now, though I don't know what "more" is. I'm thinking I think too much.
Thursday, February 3, 2005
shabby chic-ing
I'll say one thing for cold winter weather - because it tends to keep one indoors, those house projects that have been put off for far too long have a way of getting done. Lately, I've been redecorating - getting rid of (or painting over) dark wood and dark colors. Now it's white plus a complement color. My bathroom went from dull yellow and wood to pale sage green and white. My bedroom is undergoing change as well. White walls and dark gray carpet are slowly becoming blue walls and I-don't-know-what-color-yet carpet. The rest of the decor in the room is becoming pale blue and white. And go me for being thrifty and realizing in time that the dark wood night tables didn't need to be thrown out and new ones bought - they just needed a few coats of white paint. Plus, cat hair tends not to show as much on lighter colors.
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
happy birthday, grandma!
It's my grandmother's birthday, today. She's 76. I think. Maybe 75. She doesn't look it. She looks a good 10 or 15 years younger. The women in my family tend to live twice as long as the men do. I hope I've got her genes. She's still pretty active - she does her own housework, volunteers at church and at the Red Cross, goes on bus tours, takes trips to Europe, has lunch with her friends, reads. I wonder if it's that cocktail of vitamins and medications that she takes in the morning. It could be attitude, too. She has strong beliefs and opinions about everything. She's been through a lot, and I can only assume that it's made her more resilient. I'll tell you why I adore her: when my parents divorced, she came to see us, and said that she wasn't so much worried about my parents as she was about me and my sister. She wanted to know how WE were holding up. THAT is a cool grandmother.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
my side, your side, we all scream for ice cream
I have at least learned one thing from working in an office environment. Everyone has a side. Everyone has a perspective, a view, on any topic or issue. The trouble is, we tend to spend a great deal of time making sure our own view is heard, and a lot less time listening to other people's sides, as though somehow they are less important than our own. I begin to suspect that this is how wars start. I read a piece recently by an acupuncturist, and she wrote that if you look at a war, any war, from any era, and you took away the weapons, and had a second look, what you would see would be people reaching out to each other trying to be heard, but not listening. I was sitting in a meeting today, and toward the end, things got very tense between two of my co-workers. Some people love to watch the sparks fly, but it tends to irritate me as I have better things to do that listen to people argue. I suddenly wondered if they were even hearing what the other was saying, ie, making some kind of effort to understand the view of the other. It was as though they were talking parallel to each other, rather than coming to a cross street and at least acknowledging the other. As fate would have it, I was sitting between these two - not a fun place to be. I felt as though my energy was being sapped from both sides. I came out of that meeting feeling very tired, and wanting nothing more than to curl up under my desk for a nap. These two have separately complained about each other to me. I would love nothing more than to lock them in a room together and let them duke it out once and for all. Let them fling the insults and accusations directly at each other, just to see what happens. Just so they know what it feels like. Maybe they'd kill each other, or maybe they'd find some common form of communication. Companies should think about panic rooms - soundproof, padded walls, a punching bag. An extra benefit in the 21st century work place.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
morning glory
I used to think that my not being able to get up in the morning was due to sheer laziness. Now, I'm not so sure. I tend to wake up earlier than my alarm, and just lay there and think, but not in a "oh jeez, I've got X, Y, and Z to do today" way. More in a "wow, my mind is calm again," way. I like musing on that.
When I [attempt] to go to bed at night, my brain is still on overdrive, hence my insomnia and nocturnal panic attacks. It's like a million voices chattering all at once, often about trivial things, but a million of them disguise it all as more important than it really is. I've tried the pills, the teas, the yoga, the meditation, the acupuncture, the caffeine and sugar avoidance, the writing it all down. Sometimes those things work, sometimes they don't.
And I wonder how all that stuff gets in my head in the first place every day, and I don't seem to realize it until I try to sleep. One therapist came up with the radical idea of letting myself panic, just to get it out of my system. She said I keep shoving It (whatever It may be) aside, and it backs up. So if I just opened the floodgates and let it all out to have its moment in the sun and to be acknowledged, which may be all It wants, I'd probably feel better, though I'd suffer a bit in the process. She said that's what meditation is really, just sitting and letting all that gunk drain out one thing at a time until your head is clear. The hard part is stopping yourself from wanting to analyze every little thing as it drains out - hold it up to the light to examine it, query it, fix it, etc.
The scary thought is how much of that gunk do I have backed up in my head? Years worth? Probably. One big massive panic attack to get it all out. Would I even survive that? It would by turns be terrifying and a relief.
I must admit that my panic attacks are not as bad as they used to be, and I do sleep a teeny bit better than I used to. Perhaps it is because I am now Armed With Knowledge as to what panic attacks are, so I fear them less.
I feel bad for my Calm Mind in the morning. The poor thing isn't going to last for long, so I stay in bed for a few more minutes each morning, not wanting to disturb it, and clinging to it like I would cling to my teddy bears when I was a kid. I wonder if I should get another teddy bear. I wonder how my cat would feel about that.
When I [attempt] to go to bed at night, my brain is still on overdrive, hence my insomnia and nocturnal panic attacks. It's like a million voices chattering all at once, often about trivial things, but a million of them disguise it all as more important than it really is. I've tried the pills, the teas, the yoga, the meditation, the acupuncture, the caffeine and sugar avoidance, the writing it all down. Sometimes those things work, sometimes they don't.
And I wonder how all that stuff gets in my head in the first place every day, and I don't seem to realize it until I try to sleep. One therapist came up with the radical idea of letting myself panic, just to get it out of my system. She said I keep shoving It (whatever It may be) aside, and it backs up. So if I just opened the floodgates and let it all out to have its moment in the sun and to be acknowledged, which may be all It wants, I'd probably feel better, though I'd suffer a bit in the process. She said that's what meditation is really, just sitting and letting all that gunk drain out one thing at a time until your head is clear. The hard part is stopping yourself from wanting to analyze every little thing as it drains out - hold it up to the light to examine it, query it, fix it, etc.
The scary thought is how much of that gunk do I have backed up in my head? Years worth? Probably. One big massive panic attack to get it all out. Would I even survive that? It would by turns be terrifying and a relief.
I must admit that my panic attacks are not as bad as they used to be, and I do sleep a teeny bit better than I used to. Perhaps it is because I am now Armed With Knowledge as to what panic attacks are, so I fear them less.
I feel bad for my Calm Mind in the morning. The poor thing isn't going to last for long, so I stay in bed for a few more minutes each morning, not wanting to disturb it, and clinging to it like I would cling to my teddy bears when I was a kid. I wonder if I should get another teddy bear. I wonder how my cat would feel about that.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
triple whammy
It's almost too much to absorb. A new Tori Amos album out in February, a new Kate Bush album out sometime this year, and Andrea Bocelli is starting a U.S. tour in March. Three great ways to get through the winter.
Monday, January 24, 2005
girl has burst of feminine energy while snowed in
It's a funny thing about snow: it looks pretty and calm as it's coming down, it makes one feel cozy to be indoors, and it can brighten an otherwise dreary winter day. Then one looks at one's car, and around one's car, and the inner adult wonders whether to go shovel out now or wait awhile longer. Over the past few years, one of the guys in my building or in the next building will offer to dig out my car for me, but none showed up this year. I don't know why. So I did it myself. I bundled up, went out, dug my car out and got all the snow off the top and sides AND shoveled the sidewalk in front of all the cars AND shoveled the walkway from the building to the sidewalk. The snow was light and fluffy, and it wasn't as cold as I expected (or else I had layered really well), so it wasn't that bad, and it was a good hour workout, which I needed. I'm feeling it now in my back and shoulders, but it's a good reminder that there is not a Helpless Female living in my condo thank you very much. Yes, I am still a bit smug about this. It'll wear off soon.
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