Monday, June 29, 2009

my cat is plotting to kill me

It's true. Don't be fooled by the sweet look on his face... he's evil. EVIL. The sweet face is just a ruse; it's to drag you in so he can kill. Seriously. The poor guy has been suffering through the heat of summer (I'm too cheap to turn on the A/C just yet... once we have 90+ days for an entire week, THEN I can justify turning on the A/C; until then we just suffer). He's been waking me every morning by "massaging" my jugular. Apparently the kneading is a kitten reflex -- you know, from nursing and they do it when they're content, but the fact that my cat always goes for my neck is troubling. When he's not trying to strangle me, he's trying to rupture my spleen by jumping on me as hard as he can. I swear I'm not lying. He wants me dead.

One of my irrational fears is dying alone at home and having my body eaten by house pets. I bet this is on the top of Ernie's wish list.

OK. Maybe I'm just being a goof, but have a look at this website and then tell me if I'm being crazy.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

committing myself to a healthier lifestyle

I really need to do this. Since mid-January, I've managed to pack on about 15 pounds (give or take 5). This was in direct response to a break-up -- as a friend would say, I was "eating my feelings" in a big, big way.

I hate getting winded walking up the stairs (I have 30 stairs in my house. I count them each and every time I climb up them). I hate not fitting in my clothes in a flattering way. I hate that I even OWN "fat pants" and that my fat pants no longer fit. I hate seeing myself in photographs and I what I hate the most is that I did this to myself.

SO, I'm going to try to do this... get back in shape... stay in shape... be as healthy as I can be. I enjoy swimming but have gotten away from it. I'm making a semi-public declaration (since very few people actually read my blog) because I need to create some kind of accountability for myself. I stopped going to therapy a couple of months ago -- it was a major financial commitment and I just didn't feel I was making any progress. I liked my counselor, but I needed to see the end and the road just kept getting longer and lonelier, so I stopped going. I think that if I distract myself with getting fit it'll help my outlook, too. That's my hope at this point anyhow. I can't let the remainder of the year slip by and find myself feeling even more glum in December. This year isn't a total wash, it's only half-over.

And on that note, I'm exhausted. Today was "bike to work day" and I did my part by cycling to S'n'B -- easy enough going there since it's all downhill, coming home is always hard. What used to be an annoying ride was an almost impossible one tonight but my one little victory is that I didn't get off the bike to walk... I forced myself to cycle the entire way home. Funny that each time I do this, I find a more level route... all the same I'll be feeling it tomorrow! Baby steps.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

on things greek

I'm really too wiped out to write about the lady with the roving hair... or the too-tan lesbian with her very pale lover... or the many, many screaming kids. Instead I'll just say I had some souvlaki and baklava and took some photos -- mostly inside the air conditioned Greek Orthodox Church at Greek Festival today.

cycling and cell phones

I have to admit, I'm guilty of riding my bike and talking on my phone, but it's so not smart... or safe... or cool. As the weather has been nicer, I've seen more people out on their bikes... talking on phones, or smoking cigarettes. GAH! It makes me crazy. That is all. Time for a nap.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

my ankles have disappeared

a.k.a. further adventures in mystery allergy illness

Yeah, so they put me on a steroid which has a side-effect list as long as the phone book and I think I got the "mood altering" and "anxiety" ones and know for a fact that after gaining 6 pounds in as many hours that I have the "swollen leg" side-effect. It's not pretty. I feel so very Hilary Clinton, but am wondering when I'll have ankles again.

The doctor says give it 3 days.

Seriously. I actually felt my legs swelling up yesterday; I was on the phone with L as I filled my car with the gas and I said, "I think my thighs are getting fatter as I stand here pumping gas!?!" It seemed unlikely, but when I got home and removed my jeans, my legs had taken on a helga-esque quality. Hello, I'm part-German, I have LEGS but this was out of control. That's when I weighed myself and was despondent over my 3-day 6 pound weight gain. Ho boy. I still went out and met the ladies and after some consternation over mixing a beer with steriods, I decided, "what the hell!"

When I got home I couldn't take the itchiness, the tightness the fatness of my legs. I took out the fact sheet for the medication and read the side effects... yadda yadda yadda, stop taking if... blahblahblah... call your doctor if... and then I came to the "Stop taking immediately and call your doctor" part. Swollen Legs. It was 10pm. I thought I should weigh myself again. 6 more pounds packed on!!! I phoned the after-hours care line because I didn't want to be too rash and just go to the ER (although I really wanted to go to the ER). They assured me that if my feet weren't blue or really cold, and that if my heart hadn't stopped beating that I could elevate my legs and go to bed. In essence, take two aspirin and call them in the morning.

Well, they called me. I went back in, paid another $30 co-pay to get the "circus side-show treatment" and I was dismissed with the reassurance that I'm not actually ALLERGIC to the meds, but that I was suffering an unfortunate side effect. Yay.

In related news, I know this is all down to where I'm temping (old, musty school) and who I'm temping with (old, musty woman... FF). More on FF later. OR not. She makes my blood boil and I shouldn't let her get to me.

Saturday, June 6, 2009


So... I don't have the flu. I don't have measles... it's unlikely I have shingles, so what the hell is going on here? I think I'm allergic to working. Actually, I'm starting to think it's a sick building type situation -- I got a fever on Monday at an old musty school. Tuesday at the next school I had a fever and a lump in my throat... by Wednesday I had swollen joints, feet and hands. Thursday came the hives... and Friday I was one massive, red, itchy hive. The doctor I saw on Friday was flummoxed and a bit horrified at my swollen lymph node (singular) on the right side of my neck. She also thought my unilateral swelling (aka hives) was unusual and suggested I see an allergist on Monday if this whole thing doesn't clear up by then.

She put me on prednisone, which is scary. I don't like steroids. I haven't used steroids in a long, long time -- I was on a topical steroid the last time I had issues with hives, but it didn't work. So my fingers are crossed that this isn't shingles... that this is maybe h-pylori again (which can be treated with an aggressive therapy of antibiotics) because it IS treatable. If I have to go through months of mystery hives and pain again, I'll get really depressed.

Honestly, FUCK this year! Grrrr.

Friday, June 5, 2009

This is good stuff:

Monday, June 1, 2009

on really bad botox or when vanity has gone too far

Faith Salie is a columnist for "O" magazine, apparently. She's on Oprah today with an actual Ethicist talking about how to deal with "sticky situations." I'm having a hard time listening for all the attention Ms. Salie's forehead warrants. I'm totally distracted! The woman has a generous forehead and she's wearing her hair long, in soft waves, parted down the center and the wide swath that the middle-center of her upper face is, IS NOT MOVING. Note the dead eyes in the photo here.

She's tried to squint... I can tell -- her lower face moves to meet her upper face and the assimilation of a squint is happening, but it's not the real deal.

Did no one tell her that this looks odd? I just want to hug her. Someone has some low self-esteem. Wow. I just found out that she was a Rhodes Scholar. What the?

on overreacting... not an erica jong book

I woke up today and NPR was talking about an Air France flight that had gotten "Lost" over the Atlantic. I immediately felt my blood pressure rise and I started to get agitated; it got me out of bed, at the very least.

I hate plane crashes. I really, really do. It's completely irrational and weird and considering how much I have to fly when I'm working, it's a bit of a hindrance and yet my ears always perk up when I hear of any kind of aviation incident.

I was relaying this story today at my temp job and going on and on about other incidents I've had on planes... i.e. barfoterium, too-lax flight attendants (Southwest) and the arrest on the flight I took to Palm Beach in February. Fran, a woman I'm temping with (and fellow aerophobic? aviophobic?) said that she'd heard about that PBI flight! I felt famous for a second. I didn't realize it had made the national news. Bless.