Best day ever!

1. Demetra somehow managed to open a closed box, open the cellophane packages inside, and rip apart the new toys i had ordered for her.


2. I pinched a very sensitive part of my body when i tried to close the recycling bin.


3. The ATM ate my debit card.


4. I lost my license.


5. I almost T-boned another car because i could not stop my car from sliding into it.


6. I locked both my keys and my phone in the car and had to call a locksmith who demanded $65 from me (i was praying to someone's god that the charge would actually go through..)


7. Finally got home and spilled coffee all over my brand new carpet.


8. About 11:00 pm the power went out to my entire house (and ONLY MY house,) had to call the power company who sent someone out only for him to be completely baffled by the situation.

I'm just hoping that the universe is just letting my bad luck run out before the new year starts.

or maybe not--now 12:17 am, January 1, 2011 and i just dumped red wine all over myself and my new couch...)

(1:17: now my computer has completely ceased to work...)

i wouldn't recommend this experience

There i am, on my way to work, after lunch break, i am pulled over by a detective (and i have no idea why.) She comes to the window and asks if there is any reason why i'm driving a car whose registration expired in December (because i had thrown my current registration in the glove box and completely forgot about it~and apparently couldn't be bothered to put the sticker on it.) I hand her the registration. Then she asks if there's any reason why i'm not wearing my seat belt (i really don't know, as i always wear my seat belt.) Stammer a little. She asks me for proof of insurance, license, all that jazz. Then she says something about me going to work and her putting the sticker on my car (or so i thought~it sounded a little strange but whatever.) She goes to her car, i wait for her to come back (while giving questioning gestures to her about what i'm supposed to do), then finally start my car.

The next thing i know two more police cars pull up, sirens blaring, and surround me (and i'm thinking "My coworker, who had her car impounded this morning, was right about the police being crazy.) One officer walks around my car then approaches me.

"Why did you do that, why were you fleeing."

"I'm sorry, i was confused, i misunderstood what she said."

He continues to question my actions, i continue to apologize.

"What is your criminal record?"

"I don't have one."

"You've never been to County Lock-Up?"

"No."

"You don't have any warrants out for your arrest?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay, we're going to check your record."

"Alright."

Then he points to the passenger side of my car, "Have you been drinking any of that hard liquor today?"

I'm thinking "What hard liquor?" I glance to where he is pointing to (barely) see a liquor store bag hiding underneath a BUNCH of books (from my vet visit i'm sure~but i don't even know why it's there because i always put my liquor (as i do all groceries) in the trunk. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, i'm on my way back to work." (and wouldn't you be able to smell it or something?) "Is it supposed to be in the trunk?"

"No it's fine." He grills me a little more then finally is on his way.

The detective comes back and again quizzes me about why i tried to flee the scene.

"I'm so sorry, i misunderstood what you said."

"We don't know if you're fleeing the scene of a murder or something." (then why would i pull over in the first place?) "I'm ticketing you for a seat belt violation." (again, i couldn't tell you or her why i wasn't wearing a seat belt either because i ALWAYS~or apparently not always~wear a seat belt.)

Then she asks me if i'm alright.

"I am a little shaken."

"Haven't you even been pulled over before?"

"I have been pulled over, it's just a little different than being surrounded."

After a few more warnings, i am on my way back to work.

Moral of the story?

Never forget ANYTHING; not your registration sticker, not to not start your car, not that you have liquor on your floor, and especially not your seat belt!

(and when i told my mom she first asked if any of the officers were cute (i didn't even notice) and then asked if they checked to see if i was a citizen (i don't know what the detective looked up in her car, but they didn't ask me.)

beware appealing looking miniature cupcakes!

My mom knocks on the door with a gift of a mini-cupcake that she has picked up at some wedding reception, somewhere. It has vanilla frosting on the top and some sort of light-colored cake (i don't like chocolate cake for some odd reason, even though i love chocolate~but vanilla is my favorite.) I set aside the cupcake to enjoy sometime when i really want it.

A few days go by with my mouth watering but still not enough. I finally decide it is time to eat the delight and i take a bite when something awful tasting explodes in my mouth. For some reason i take another bite and the same thing happens. I call the mother to ask what nasty poison she has fed me. It was a "cute" little bath bomb disguised as a cupcake (there was no note or tag to identify it as such, although my mom insisted there was.) The creator of said "cupcakes" had laughed that her children been fooled into thinking they were edible.

I do not think it is a laughing matter.

a trip to the vet...

We were off to our vet appointment today (well three of us were off, since Dixie seems to have learned that precognitive skill of sensing beforehand that the vet trip is eminent.) Even though i was able to lure Demetra and Katushka into the bathroom with cat treats and then close the door only to insert them into cat carriers, Dixie was having none of it (nor the promise of food) and hid in the basement. The search for her was futile. So i trundled off the two others to the appointment meant for three. The beasties needed their annual exams and to have their talon-like claws clipped (they will not let me near their paws--amazing how an animal 5%-10% of your body weight can really hold their own against you.) I threaten them with declawing every now and then but i never would as i am morally opposed to it (besides the fact that i refuse to put the 16 year old Dixie under anaesthesia unless absolutely necessary.) I have bought those soft paws things (rubber caps that slip over the claw itself and fall off after six to eight weeks) but not only do you have to trim their claws before you can apply them but you also need them to hold still while you glue them on (what's the point?) I've had groomers tell me that vets can do it for you, and of course the vets tell me that groomers do. Does anyone know anything about the effectiveness of EmeryCat? I'm actually more concerned about my own safety rather than my furniture (although Katushka claws at my kitchen bench incessantly). Dixie claws at the carpet and runs over me with her claws, Katushka also runs over me, and she has a bit of a kneading problem. Demetra has a major kneading problem because she was weaned too early (but she always using her scratching post.)

As if you cared for any of the above detour, back to my story: I asked Herr Doctor if Demetra has gained weight just because her sides seem to be buldging a teensy bit (can i stress teensy?) I probably wouldn't have even noticed if Demetra had not been a short-haired cat, unlike her sisters (Katushka once lost 25% of her weight without my note until the vet weighed her.) So Herr Doctor tells me that she has gained a little and then proceeds to tell me that she needs to go on a diet (a little difficult with three cats who don't care whose food they eat), that i need to brush her back better because she probably can't reach around to groom herself (little does he know i rarely brush any of them), and that she has possibly lost the fur underneath her chin due to her neck size increasing rather than some kind of reaction to her collar. I wonder if he would have even come up with this theory if i hadn't brought it up (she had hissed at the vet tech, something she never does~maybe she was unhappy with being called fat) it's not like the animal is obese, just a little pudgy.

Cats all bundled up and in the car i make a quick visit to the liquor store next to the vet (it was a five minute trip and cool and cloudy outside.) Had a major attack of vertigo while in the liquor store, shaking, swaying, waving vision (and i'm sure as i stumbled out of the liquor store a few assumptions were made.) My mother claims it was the act of being in the liquor store~maybe it was bad Karma for leaving the kids in the car~in actuality i believe it was just a relapse.)
Got into the car and had a lens fall out of my glasses (which rendered me completely unable to see.) Called mom to let her know she might need to come pick us up. So, with shaking hands, after about ten minutes got the lens back in. Drove like a little old lady until i got about a block away from my house where i ran out of gas. Had to call mom to rescue us, and then carry the animals in once i got home I'm sure they were wondering what the hell was going on when their trip home was much longer and confusing than it usually is. Needless to say the trip home from the vet was not the most enjoyable adventure...

in the er

There i was, sitting ever so calmly at the reference desk, horrible migraine had not yet kicked in when i started to get really dizzy (even though i was sitting still in my chair.) About 10 minutes later my vision started shaking (seeing double because everything was moving so fast, as i'm trying to convince myself that this is just a new migraine symptom that i will have to get used to), 10 minutes later i completely lost my sense of balance and was falling (making other people walk back to the computer room because i was unable to.) At this point my manager was wanting to call 911 but i didn't want to pay for an ambulance. Started shaking uncontrollable, had my mom come get me (my manager and a coworker were on either side of me, supporting me, escorting me to the car and i still fell). Had to be wheeled in on a gurney and they did a cat scan thinking i may have had a stroke.
My mom came into the ER with me, which i never let her do because i'm an adult and can handle myself (plus i don't always appreciate her interrupting to clarify or add to what i'm talking, but i wasn't feeling all that capable at the moment. Triage asks me the usual "What medications have you taken lately and i try to go through what my memory allows but words don't come easily to my tongue (and memory is a little difficult to master as well.)

Laying down doesn't help too much, world still spins. I tell the nurse i just want her to give me something to knock me out. She says "Oh no you don't want that, why would you want it."

"Because i just want to sleep/be unconscious than experience this." Plus i wasn't entirely serious.

Once i'm chatting with the ER doc i remembered that glass of wine i had the night before (heavy partier that i am) and mentioned it to her and she rolled her eyes (like stupid girl, that has no influence on anything,) then i told her that i had smoked a little marijuana for my migraine and nausea which made her decide i was some kind of druggie and that my current problems reaching for words were related to marijuana affecting memory (even though i smoke it only occasionally and never have memory problems at any other time~again she rolls her eyes and says it doesn't matter how much i smoke.) She started grilling me about where i got the weed because of problems with suppliers and i'm thinking "do you know every drug dealer in town and weather there products are pure (and wouldn't they usually not want to lace weed with anything since other drugs are usually more expensive)?"

Then she wanted to know what i'd done in the past even though it's been twenty years or so, i glance at my mom because i really didn't want to subject her to the entire list of my rather extensive recreational history. Doctor says "time for full disclosure."

I run through my list for her (probably missed a few--i think my list includes pretty much everything excluding heroin.) So then she told me i was just having flashbacks or that it was bad marijuana (which seems rather unlikely because i haven't ever had flashbacks and i had already smoked from that same bag.)

Final diagnosis: vertigo. She gives me Valium and tells me to see my neurologist in the morning (and she mentioned how wonderful my neurologist was. The Valium just makes me sleepy (which, i suppose, is not bad, but it didn't help me with much else.

When i stumbled into my regular neurologist's office the next day she said she didn't think it was anything to do with drugs but wasn't too fond of the weed just because it's illegal and you don't know where it comes from and she doesn't want me getting arrested.

The Antivert she gave me was much more effective with the nausea and, somewhat with the dizziness than the Valium. I couldn't walk straight (and constantly fell down) for about three days, and the world didn't stop spinning (along with the accompanying nausea) for about a week and a half. Was bored as hell because i couldn't read and couldn't watch television too well.

Today is my first day back at work, still a little shaky and very little sense of balance, but i am doing much better.

once upon a time

in a very snowy clime

all the roommates were gone...

on a freezing New Year's Sunday morn, YoSafBridg left the warm apartment, in her nightshirt, to pick up the morning paper. As she heard the heavy, locked, outside door close behind her, she realized she had no way of getting back in because, not only were all of HER roommates gone, but so were all of the old house/apartment building tenants.

She sat outside on the ice covered porch contemplating her options; perhaps walk the eight blocks to work in her bare feet (and night shirt) where she kept a spare set of keys; perhaps venture across the street where the Sunday services were just letting out and beg for phone access; or perhaps try her hand at breaking into the lower apartment (not hers, by the by) with nothing but her rapidly freezing fingers.

Any stick or branch she tried, of course, broke off in the window frames. Snow burned her feet with every romp of the porch. She sat some more, contemplated some more, tried some more, as the time ticked by. Sat, thought, romped, repeated as deeper desperation sank in. Banged on screens with a rock, seemingly to no avail; but as she continued one screen began to give. She slowly worked her fingers into the small gap, ripping the screen apart in the process (the cold staunched most of the blood flow.)

After what seemed like hours (but was only one or so) she managed to pry the screen off. Then, through sheer force of will, she lifted the window and climbed in. As she made her way to the apartment door, she discovered, quite miraculously, someone, maybe someone whose lease was up, had left a key inside the door that appeared to have been slid under the door for return. She pushed the mangled screens out of their places, slipped out the door, slid the key back in and made her way up to her own apartment (with a light door that did not swing close, therefore unlocked.) She grabbed the keys to her roommate's car and carted the screens off to a nearby dumpster.

No one ever seemed any the wiser (or is that everyone seemed none the wiser?)

 

Reminds her of another time, same town,  but in the hot, humid summer. After the long walk home from work she looks for some cool refreshment. Chilled Pinot Grigio seems to fit the bill (over ice, how gauche!) She gulps the from extra large size tumbler with no thought to alcohol content. Then, quickly off to the bar to meet friends. Once there the waitress dumps a pitcher of beer down her back and, to make up for it serves her free pitchers all night (and who is she to say no?)

At the end of the night she invites all her friends back to her place to imbibe from the beer she is sure she has left over from another party.

Somehow she ends up alone to walk home. Isn't sure how to find it. As she steps off the curb to cross the street she slams into a big concrete wall (and what a stupid place to put a wall!) But, as she backs away, she realizes that somehow her vertical position had suddenly turned horizontal and the wall that made her bleed was actually the street she was lying in.

She feels no pain from the many scrapes and cuts covering face to toe, and forgets the friends awaiting her at home.

When she gets there she recounts her tale of woe to no sympathy. They want the beer that was promised them. Of course, she has lost her keys somewhere along the way and has no idea how to get in. She repeatedly rings the doorbell (all the apartments') to no avail. They all stand in the street and shout at the second floor, no one opens a single window.

The idea occurs to climb the fire escape which leads to a roommate's closet and pound on the window there. Eventually this rouses Roommate who lets the crowd in where they refuse to leave because the promised beer is nowhere to be seen.

 

Perhaps all her experience as a latchkey-locked-out child served her well

¿¿¿how does one fracture their clavicle anyway???

i mean i know how i've fractured my right collarbone twice in the past (by falling on my head at an accelerated, gravity assisted pace) but now my left clavicle is fractured with no similar mishap having taken place.

When i went to the doctor for my unexplained pain (was visiting the neurologist anyway and just thought i'd stop by~did that once when my ankles were hurting only to find they were both broken~did remember that time the incident that did it but it makes me wonder how many broken bones i have had when i didn't happen to be at the doctor...)

The man quizzed me about my lack of accidental memory.

Just a crazy, random happenstance, i suppose...

does it mean anything

that i am constantly typing my email address as ME@homail.com rather than ME@hotmail.com?

hey... it's me...

did you notice my absence? have you missed me (if you have i'm about to make you regret it...)

i have been here and i always have good intentions to blog along but the intended never seems to actually happen...

WARNING:

DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU FEEL LIKE LISTENING TO THE RAMBLINGS OF A SOMEWHAT DERANGED MIND

i am discombobulated

My current insomnia bout has escalated into mania and my mind is racing (my computer[S?!?] are not racing with me)

I was so happy when i got a wonderful new laptop for christmas because i had become so very weary with my large, heavy, slower laptop that would often overheat and shutdown without warning even though i had taken all the tedious precautions.

My new laptop had a few problems connecting to my wireless network in my bedroom (i would be connected and then suddenly it would go away if the computer happened to move--hello---laptop... ) this particular problem was one i never had with my toshiba but i attempted to deal (even though internet in my bedroom is extremely important--my need to watch television shows and movies in there without an actual television...)
then...

this weekend the power cord to my dell suddenly seemed to deliver no power to the computer (this in and of itself is peturbing enough but also rather disturbing because i am already on the third power cord for my toshiba because they also stopped working--apparently a flaw with the model i have but given the vague memory i have of the same thing happening to an even (more?) prior computer i begin to feel that i am electronically cursed (and having the experience that i do i am extra careful with power cords...)

Back in the day my walkman (what we used to use before iPods were invented), vacum cleaner, and VCR all went out at the same time--i also walked into my mother's den once and as soon as i entered the couch exploded because of the octipi of electrical chords underneath.)

Anyway, after rouble shooting with dell i sent the computer off to have the motherboard replaced and currently i am working on my old, cumbersome toshiba and a laptop i borrowed from my mother--both these computers seem to be so slow that i am finding myself doing one thing on the borrowed toshiba in the living room and doing another thing on my toshiba in the bedroom (my toshiba has to live on a chill hub to try and decrease the chances of the aforementioned overheating) i find myself running back and forth between the bedroom and the living room because i can do something on one computer, let that process while i complete some other task---not terribly efficient
I have tried installing a newer, faster version of my router but am unable to do that with the "help" of both Dell and my internet provider (often after receiving such help i have to resort to my own technical skills which usually work out better than theirs)

kind of crazy how lack of sleep (for days on end) can scramble your mind and body more than the hallucinogenic drugs you used in your twenties...

Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome with Added Value Alertness

I know, i know have been quite remiss with this whole blog thingie, but believe me that is not the only thing i have been remiss with (but perhaps we will get into that later…)
So i had an appointment with a neurological sleep specialist upon referral from my neurological headache specialist (as my insomnia seems somewhat unresponsive to many forms of medication and my sleep patterns continue to be erratic to say the very least). He decided (and his diagnosis made perfect sense to me) that i have something called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, which basically means that my circadian rhythm is a bit off (or in other words i’m a night owl~something i’ve been aware of since i’ve been aware of the term (and my mother has been aware of for much, much longer). He also doesn’t think i have any kind of symptoms of breathing problems (so for all those friends and relatives who have been telling me i have sleep apnea and that accounts for oh-so-much-wrong-with-me-and-my-life~nanny, nanny, nanny ;)~.
Apparently exposure to sunlight causes the release of certain proteins that help regulate wake cycles (we’re talking in addition to melatonin here) and recent research has shown (recent research i have been unable to find~by the by) that some of us release a great deal more of these proteins than others causing us to be unable to sleep at the “normal” hours. Many of us our misdiagnosed with insomnia, when actually, if we were just allowed to sleep when our bodies wanted to, say 3:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. we would be fine (see, i’m not really lazy, everyone else is just on the wrong schedule, well maybe that’s a stretch~the my-not-being-lazy part, that is…) In the past, they have mostly adjusted behaviour for these problems (usually making sleep times progressively later until it is where you want it to be) which hasn’t really solved the problem. The new treatment involves light therapy (similar to treatment for S.A.D.) which helps with the behavioural adjustment (also 80% of people who suffer from depression also have some kind of sleep disorder~similar to the coincidence of depression and migraines…hmmm...)

Also important is sleep hygiene: common sense things like keeping to a standard wake-up time on week days and weekends; eliminating caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol; avoiding napping; regular exercise (though not before bedtime); avoiding food or drink before bedtime; turn the alarm clock away from you; and the toughie for me~only using your bedroom for sleeping (which i’m not all that into as my bedroom is my retreat and i like to use it as such during the day). You also shouldn't watch the nightly news because that is meant to capture your attention. If you watch t.v. it shouldn't be anything with a beginning and end point (like a movie~because it is building to a conclusion). Same thing with reading~no novels (beginning and end), nothing you might have a personal interest in. So what is left? He mentioned encyclopedias. (i stayed mute about my interest in Those...) The dictionary (too much etymological interest there). Oh the curses of being a reference librarian (or the interests that drive you to be one...) Evolutionarily the whole night owl thing makes sense, i mean someone had to stay awake to guard the cave at night, right? So i’m a guardian. Kind of like a night warrior. Rampage on.

I haven’t yet gotten to the whole lightbox thing, i’m thinking, if i’m trying to simulate sunlight exposure, what about just sunlight exposure in and of itself? My other issue, apparently, is that i am inordinately alert to things going on in my environment so, even when i’m sleeping, i have a certain level of awareness (makes sense~being a Night Warrior/Guardian and all). After we get the light and schedule thing together, then perhaps we can move on to the sleeping drugs (though i already take lyrica {which is also supposed to help with my nerve pain~another migraine side effect} every night adding in a seroquel, or two, or three [i suppose i stop taking them when i pass out~the headache doc was a little unclear~she said until i could sleep...] if a migraine is not allowing sleep). The sleep doc says sleeping pills have not done anything in the past because of my wonderfully odd chemistry (and i suppose adding them in does something to kill my extra-special alertness (???)).

The other night, i came home exhausted from work and went to sleep about 11:30 p.m. (occasionally i can do this if i am extremely tired, although other times i can be too tired to do anything and not sleep~though i also took my lyrica~sometimes i forget and then it is too late) I then woke up about 2:00 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep until 8:30 a.m. (didn't have to work until noon that day). So now i'm not so convinced about the whole DSPS and maybe i'm not following any circadian rhythm at all, but my body just functions more like free form jazz (and that would make sense for MY body~although i did have some symptoms that defied categorization~quite normal for me~i have the quite usual experience of sitting in the examination room and having the doctor [or p.a. or n.p. or intern or whatever...] come back in shaking his head saying "I've never seen this before" and i'm thinking, "well i have"...)

what doesn't kill THEM makes THEM stronger...

So here i am 3½ weeks into this infernal-eternal-sinus-infection that might just kill me, and i would be rampaging; but i don’t have the energy.

After having gone through the first week of illness i actually dragged myself to my doctor for a diagnosis and went through a full course of antibiotics~and yes, i took every single one~never skipped a dose (i'm a good little patient when it comes to antiBs~never use them unless absolutely necessary; always take the full course.) Before my course was complete the beastly plague came back with a vengeance, and the doc prescribed another course of the same antibiotic which i tried for five days then, after no results, dragged my ailing body back again. She gave me Bigger, Badder drugs, so, here's hoping...

(in the meantime, my sinuses ache, my ears ache, my throat aches, my throat is sore, i continue to cough, and my migraine refuses to be upstaged; i'm a bit annoyed...)

At the moment my would-be rampaging energy is focused on those who insist on using antibiotics without cause thus helping to bring about our current "superbugs". Did you know this also applies to the current trend of all those antibiotic and antimicrobial soaps, hand sanitizers, cleansers, and whatnot that are all the rage. We're frenziedly and paranoidly cleaning ourselves into even bigger and badder diseases people! Then what will we do to rid ourselves of them. Somehow i thought i was protecting myself by taking care of me and mine but the world influences the whole world (besides i'm miserable and it's so nice to be able to blame someone besides myself for a change)

Anyway, if i Could rampage, this would be the start of my manifesto...

Where were you when the couch broke?

I was hanging out with all three of the kitties. It was New Year’s Day night, we were on the couch (which is a metal futon) which was out in its bed form (and had been that way for i don't know how long~i had pulled it out once when i was feeling WAY bad and i guess i just never got to feeling much better) when we heard a large clanging/banging sound and CRASH we all went B*O*O*M (and the cats all scattered.)

Now my couch did not look like the one in the picture because it was not all bent out of shape~it was just that many of the bolts had fallen out. It had been given me signals that such an event was imminent for quite some time~making certain creaking noises and such and i had half-heartedly tried tightening the bolts but apparently it did not do enough.

So the point is, that on New Year's my couch broke and at that time i gingerly climbed off of it and decided that it was time to move out of the living room because i didn't want to deal with it at the time. So i went down to the basement to watch the TV down there, and for the next week or so spent much more time in my bedroom and kitchen than i have for quite some time (it confused the cats mightily~"what, we're not living in the living room anymore?"). Things continued to pile up in the living room (and, even more importantly, programs continued to pile up on the living room dvr), my migraines continued to scream at me, i continued to ignore it all.

Last week i got the cover off of the futon to wash it. Today, my mom came over and fixed all the bolts under my (very helpful) supervision. It is very nice to have a couch and a living room again (and it hasn't been an entire month~yet).

Sometimes i really hate this feeling that i can't do much of anything and i wonder how much of it i put on myself, but then when i do try to do something and i am punished for it i know i don't really put it on myself.

oh well, baby steps, as they say (whoever "they" are).