FAQ about out-patient brain surgery

Q: Isn't it amazing that we have come so far that your brain can be operated on and you can go home the same day, only glowing slightly?

A: Yes, it is. I would say that these are amazing times indeed, but the gamma knife procedure has been around for a little while. Luckily, they have been working on it and seem to have no further need for the hamster.

Q: Don't you ever get tired of making light of this, Heather?
A: Have we actually met?

Q: Funny. But, seriously how are you? (Or some variation therein -- like, how are you feeeeeling?)
A: Well, I'll tell you in all seriousness that I feel great. I'm really excited that I have the opportunity to have this procedure and quite possibly avoid all of the horrible things my mother had to endure. The chance of maintaining my hearing, preserving my balance, not having any facial paralysis, well... I can't help but feel upbeat about my prospects.

As an aside... When I first found out about this, I really felt like I was getting something close to a death sentence. I was led to believe that I should wait to see if my neuromas developed/grew and then if they did, that invasive surgery was the only logical pursuit. But, gamma knife has the possibility to prevent the neuromas from growing more and preventing the need for invasive surgery. I feel that if I have a chance to avoid a life in the quiet, then I'm going to grab it. If I have a chance to avoid going through an MRI every six months, I'm going to take that.

I was inspired by women, who upon learning that they have malignancies in their own breasts after going through the deaths of their mothers make the radical decision to pursue double mastectomy sooner than medically advised. Because you know what? It is my body and I am going to do what I need to do to preserve it even if it's considered radical.

Q: Are you in pain? Do you have headaches?
A: I have to tell you that this question really drives me bonkers. Here's why -- when I tell people what is wrong with me, I go into explicit detail about what it is, where it is and how it works. I am very emphatic that this is not the type of tumor that can kill me and that I never would have even known that it was there if I were not doing regular hearing screening. I may make jokes about the fact that I have a tumor and so on, but in the beginning, when the news is broken it is in very detailed information. So, anyone that asks me that was not paying attention. It is frustrating. I know they mean well and I'm just being bitchy and self-centered to get irritated, but whatever. If you really mean well, then pay attention.

I can't think of any other FAQ's. Those are the main ones.

So, tomorrow is Hulk Day! Grrrr... By the time you are reading this, it will probably be over since we have to be there at 6:00 am. I am going to try to get Scott to take some pictures (ever the maudlin drama queen) because I think the halo thing is going to be something to see.

love you mean it!

hpl

The Head Speaks

*No more school for 44 days. I was reading some old archives here, and I actually used to talk about being in school. Remember Harold?

Well, now I never write about it, because to me -- it is what it is. It's just part of my routine. I like the beginning part of the semester a lot. Get to see new people and learn new stuff and buy new books. It's shiny and new, and we all know just how much Heather likes shiny, new stuff! Then, by the end of the semester I am just over it. Mostly from the feeling guilty about not working harder and yet somehow still getting rewarded for it.

[Note: I am not lacking in awareness in the irony of complaining about getting A's when I don't work hard enough to actually deserve them. It is exactly as annoying when skinny girls complain about how they eat and eat and just never gain any weight. Boo freakin' hoo. The truth is I do study and I am actually smart and they are throwing up in the bathroom and exercising like fiends. Why pretend anymore??]

Hm, where did that soapbox come from? How awkward!

*The other day my boss asked me what was up, why was I in such a good mood? This comment has haunted me ever since. Was she just teasing me? Am I really crabby or was she just playing on my paranoia that I'm always crabby?? Hmm.... It just doesn't seem right. So many times in my life, I always thought that someone else was the teacher's pet, but maybe it was really me and I just didn't know it?

HA!

All suck-ups dream of being secretly appreciated for they sycophancy, didn't you know that dear?

*I finally gave up on having a personal cell phone message. A collossal waste of time and energy. I can't please you fuckers with the cutesy messages. And you are irritated when there is information designed to be helpful to people who are not you. Other people call! Sometimes...

*Weird dinner plans. Tomorrow night I am going to dinner with some of my female co-workers. I have barely hung out with any of them outside of work, so I am really nervous that I'm going to say something stupid. And then tonight I had the perfect out from Shrek the Halls. Puss in Boots gets caught playing with a Christmas ornament and he says, "Oh, I have shamed myself."

I just love that!

* I have a class buddy whom I do not share any classes with next semester. Unlike previous class buddies, we actually work in the same building. It should be really interesting to see if the relationship continues. We are absolutely nothing alike and she thinks we're a lot alike. It's cool but weird.

Oh, I forgot to finish my dinner story... So, one of the women going to dinner is my deskmate who regales us with stories of her daughter all day at work. Then I come home and make Scott listen to them -- ah, the circle of life. The other two women coming are younger than I am -- mid- to late 20's. It's really going to be an interesting dynamic because both of them were popular people in high school. Since I am still a nerd at heart, it's hard for me to let go of the social classes and remember that we're all grown-ups. I guess as grown as I think I pretend to be, I do not have my shit together and still get intimidated by popular pretty girls who dress well.

Seriously, what does that say about me?

**** It says that it is past my bed time and that's why my previously pumped up mood has grown maudlin. ***

Maybe it's the tryptophan
Maybe it's the '04 Merlot
Maybe it's the peyote
just kidding ma
Maybe it's the acoustic neuroma

Today I am most thankful that I am getting older. I REALLY love being older. The things I know and realize. The perspective I am at. It is a natural high. It's so awesome.

I see beauty and possibility and hope. I can see nothing but blue skies!

O useless beauty!

The song in my pores that I feel at the thought of the future.

I feel so FREE. A brain tumor has set me free. Free of expectations, free of worry. What the fuck does anything matter at all anyore??

I talk too loud. I eat too much. I don't get to work on time. I leave from work early. I run red lights. I oversleep, I stay up too late. I miss payments. I obsess about money. I creative finance. I plan for big expensive things in the future.

I dream. I believe. I imagine. I realize that really anything is possible.

And I am NOT afraid anymore.

When you stop expecting that you are allowed to expect things -- you can expect EVERY THING.

You can expect miracles.

It is what it is.

hlee

Am-I-Dumb.com - Intelligence Test

You have to skip through 300 ads to find out, but in case you're bored...

Like me.

Yeah, I discovered You Tube.


Does it show? Actually trolled this from Ms. Mac's blog. I feel really inspired though...




Actually, note how skinny the guy is. (His name is Mika and I guess he is big in Europe.) I once knew a guy who told me that skinny guys like thick chicks because, well, it doesn't hurt to bump uglies with them. I guess you get too bony people together and it gets dangerous.

I will never have to worry about that.

Well, at least I wrote another page... But then I found the internet again...

http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/Vote2008/page?id=3623346

In case you didn't want to be bothered figuring out who your candidate of choice was for 2008.

What I was doing when I was supposed to be writing a paper...

Every single time I read the the Rabbit blog I get inspired. It's not the first time it's driven me to write.

It's her advice. She just gives such blunt advice and I just love her for it. Just like Carolyn Hax (you can find her at the Washington Post's website, but you have to register so I didn't include the link) -- but more brutal because Carolyn has to be fit for the paper.

Rabbit gives me hope that maybe wisdom could be communicable and makes me want to keep trying. I don't think it really is, but I can hope.

See, Rabbit is, like me, in her 30's. In your 30's, you just have an entirely different world view of your previous life. You finally understand the true value of experience, and finally have the haunting realization that no one gives a shit about your experience because they think they are different from you and think they will never, ever make the same mistakes you made.

Being in my 30's also actually makes me look forward to getting older. I think that if I have learned this much so far, then how much more do I have to learn and gain and grow? HOW exciting! How boring to be young. Sure, you can button your too tight jeans without lying down and you don't have that wrinkle between your eyes, but you are dumber than dirt. No matter how smart you are -- dumb.

And I realize that there will come a point that I will look back on where I am now and think the same thing, and I think that's pretty cool.

I also think that it is way too bad that you can't communicate this to people who are younger in a way that will make them care.

You really are going to wish you had voted and not had ice cream for dinner so often and didn't skip going to the gym and never took up smoking and didn't sleep with quite so many random guys and finished college and followed up on that great idea you were too scared to invest in and taken that great cross country car trip with your girlfriends.

You are going to realize that what they say about regretting the things you DIDN'T do is really true.

You are going to realize that it's important to build a life that is about being true to you. And this life cannot be built on the backs of friends and family who tried to support you. It's important to try to be kind, but not so kind that you let your best friend buy that dress that you know makes her look like a cow.

There can be too much kindness.

And some things really are just things. You can let them go -- you can release them. When you lose something that truly matters, you completely understand the value of letting go.

Live from the Mountaintop --

Heather

Oh my this is quite lovely...

Where the farg have I been...?



Dear You,



I didn't want to tell you. I knew you wouldn't take it well. You would get all dramatic and think bad things and I just didn't want to deal.



I mean, I had my own stuff going on.



The shortest version of my somewhat long tale is that technically I have a tumor in my brain.



No, I'm not making that up.



I told you you would get upset.



The longer version is... My mother has a disease known as Neurofibromatosis 2 (aka NF2). She has had this for quite some time and dealt with all of its fun-filled action without knowing that this was the word for it. She had her own brain tumors back in the 70's/80's and their subsequent removal left her with no hearing, facial paralysis, poor speech, vision and decidedly crappy balance issues. When we found out that the condition was genetic, she also learned that the way to screen for it was through annual hearing exams.

And the nagging began.

I had my first hearing test in 2004. Everything was fine and the doctor said that I could probably get by with a bi-annual screening. When I visited again in 2006, there were some concerns and he decided that annual was better. Good thing because this year's exam showed a slight dip in my hearing. Very slight. Something one could obtain after being to one too many rock concerts and something that would not have been of major concern if not for the genetic predisposition to NF2. He ordered an MRI and I went for that shortly after.

I gotta tell you, I'm pretty naive. It really did not occur to me that I would have these tumors. The idea just didn't even enter my head as a possibility. I don't know why. I have had other tumors, I have always known this was a possibility. But, there you go. So, when I went to the doctor and he gave me the results, I was stunned. Speechless. I tried to ask questions, but I was really just too confused to pursue them. So stunned was I that when he first told me, I didn't even realize that he was saying they were bilateral -- I thought there was only one. It was just inconceivable to me. Which, as we learned from the Princess Bride, "you keep using this word -- I do not think it means what you think it does."

Anyways. I called Scott on the way home from the results. I didn't mean to tell him over the phone but I was just so upset. He came home immediately and we decided that the best, most practical immediate response was to get as fucked up as we could.

And we did. It was lovely. We had a maudlin experience discussing how I wanted my funeral to be, lamenting not purchasing long term care insurance, and many other lovely details. (By the way, I do not want to be buried but I do want a marching band playing When the Saints Come Marching in at my funeral. Take care of this, you.)

Yadda, yadda, yadda -- I've been to several specialists and even had an appointment with Scott's aunt who is a hypnotherapist. I have decided to pursue a course of treatment on the larger of the two tumors that is called gamma knife. Basically, I have a helmet screwed into my head, another MRI is done to get the exact location of the tumor and gamma radiation will be directed at the tumor to prevent growth and encourage retardation. Of the tumor, not me. The smaller of the tumors, we will watch and see what happens. If there is no growth pattern, then that will be the action for time to come. If not, then I intend to pursue gamma again if it is successful on the larger tumor.

There are risks with all courses of treatment, but gamma radiation only bears the risk of not wanting me to be angry. You won't like me when I'm angry -- I get green and my clothes rip off...

Just kidding. Scott hopes.

Anyways, so that is what I wanted to tell you. I know that you will take it hard. It's a hard thing to take. I get that. But you don't have to be overly nice or whatever, I just have a brain tumor.

You probably think that explains a lot anyways. :)

Let me know if you have any questions -- just comment here.

love,

Me

On my mind

One. Because Scott and I have been together for going on five years, I frequently forget the smugness (and often write about this same forgetfulness, I think) that comes with being in a basically stable, "normal" relationship.

No matter what we try to sell you, human beings are designed to be matched up. It's in our DNA. You've got to sell yourself on being alone when you're alone, but ultimately you wish you had someone in your life. There is nothing wrong with that.

Why is this on my mind? Met up with an old kickball pal tonight. She is actually in a relationship with a great guy but after a substantial amount of time together he has yet to tell her her loves her. It is different for different people but the bottom line is that it is nice to know it, nice to hear, nice to know it exists. When you see them together, it wouldn't occur to you that it's not something that is part of their regular vocabulary, but it is what its. And that's what I mean by the smugness. I know Scott loves me. It's never out of my mind ever. Things get high, things get low, things get boring, things get weird, things get tough -- he loves me and I love him. We're doing life. It is what is is. Maybe, despite the marriage thing, I won't always have that inate knowledge but for now there is a definite smugness and security that goes along with that.
I have accomplished a basic human need successfully.
Two. Filler people. I was re-reading old journals, something I had not done in a LONG time. Found a note about the filler people. The people who make up my day and basically the meat of my life but don't get journal space (or, in this case, blog space) because they do not cause drama. They do not hurt me or overtly amuse me or whatever it is that brings people in to the blog. Things that take it away from being about me.
But, in the end, it is your filler people who are the moments of your life. My cube mate. Or just the co-workers in general. The woman at my gym whom I love. My closest local friend. My long distance, seldom caught up with friends. My local friends I talk to 4 times a year but enjoy the catch-up calls. My family. My old neighbors. My old friends in South Dakota. My former in-laws. All these people who make up my life, past and present. They are rarely, if ever, documented.
My cube mate has the same birthday, 2 years later, than I do. I have now personally met and known 5 people who have my birthday.

How many people do you know with your birthday and you're not a twin?

And had them teach you in school or be a close friend or dated them???

It's not common, I think.

Filler people. They need their own day, like Mother's Day. Can't you hear the Bud Light commercial now? Real American heroes -- my fill up my day person with whom I have nothing in commmmmon.

If you don't laugh your ass off about THIS one...

Some of you may know that Scott and I once got a sticky note left on his condo door that said something like "Just a reminder the walls in these condos are paper thin, especialy the ones between the adjoining bedrooms. Glad you had a good morning -- Happy Valentine's Day!" Hysterical. I was too amused to be mortified.

But that was in the dating years and I suspect many of us know how different that can be.

Last night, we decided to watch some SkinnyMax and play with our new toy The Sex Deck (which is super fun). So, I'm, er, enjoying the movie and Scott was off in another room getting, er, accessories for our evening. He comes back to the room and I ask him to take the dog outside so we can have some privacy.

Well, here was the mood breaker... Our ridiculously large tv is hooked up to the stereo system so we can get surround sound. Our outdoor speakers are also hooked up to the stereo so we can listen to the radio when we're out in the yard. And they were on.

So, echoing through our backyard over the fences and to the neighbors houses was the unmistakable sounds of soft core porn. The soft moaning, the crazy music, the oh-so-well-crafted dialogue...

Just in case the neighbors wanted to know when we were getting some since we can't share a wall with them...

Oooo, book meme to keep me from starting paper for new class and springboard off of my last bloggy thing...

What are you reading now?
Okay, maybe it wasn't a good time to start this because what I'm actually reading is the textbook for my Theories of Personality class, which is imaginatively titled the same. However, I just finished Dream when you're feeling blueby Elizabeth Berg. I gotta tell you -- I am a sucker for a twist ending. In the movies, in books -- if I didn't see it coming (and I rarely do because I'm pretty dense) then it makes me like the book/movie more. The book is set in the 1940's during WWII but it's also written as if the author were in the 1940's. You don't see that very often in books that are set in the somewhat recent past. So, it took a little adapting because all of the golly gee and de facto sexism were a bit hard to swallow. But, the main character Kitty is a pleasant melange of confusion and the twist really did take me by surprise. Especially since I thought the book was pretty well over when it happened. I recommend it.

Do you have any idea what you'll read when you're done with that?
Okay, so when I'm done reading my text book I will have at least a month, maybe two between classes. Plus I have like 12 days off for the holidays, so I'm definitely going to be trying to read some stuff. I've been on an Elizabeth Berg kick, but I have been compiling a list of things I would like to read so will likely pick something off of there. Margaret Atwood's name has popped up several times in a blog I like to read (Ms. Mac - from whom I stole this), so maybe I'll read another one of her novels. Then I can cross one of those 1001 books off my list.

What's the worst thing you were ever forced to read?
Hm. I wasn't good about finishing the books that I was forced to read. I just fudged my way through the tests based on class discussions. I remember taking a particular dislike to Billy Budd. And I was too young when they made us read Siddhartha, there was no way I could appreciate that in the 9th grade.

What's one book you always recommend to just about anyone?
Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns. This is the story of young Will Tweedy set in the turn of the century. His grandmother has recently died, and his grandpa sets the town in an uproar when 3 days later he decides to marry the amazingly lovely Miss Love. Gradually we learn why Grandpa decided to marry Miss Love and Will becomes a big defender of their relationship. (Partially stolen from the review at Amazon, but better summary then I could have come up with.) I just love this book. It's wonderful. I loan it to everyone I know and hope they love it as much I do.

Admit it, sadly the librarians at your library know you on a first name basis, don't they?
Sadly, they don't because I don't read fast enough to utilize the library.

Is there a book you absolutely love, but for some reason, people never think it sounds interesting, or maybe they read it and don't like it at all?
Yup. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. Maybe it's the title. Maybe it's the somewhat depressing nature of the story. It's Dave Eggers story of how, when he was 22, he was "orphaned" by his parent's deaths. They died within 5 months of each other, each of a different kind of cancer. Dave is forced to become the custodial parent of his 8-year-old brother and the antics begin. I love it for its self-deprecation and, well, it's heartbreaking genius.

Do you read books while you eat?
Sure, sometimes. Are there people who don't?

While you bathe?
Bathing would involve cleaning the tub and I would be losing reading time by cleaning the tub.

While you listen to music?
No, I can't even walk and chew gum.

While you're on the computer?
This is a very strange question. I don't get it.

When you were little did other children tease you about your reading habits?
Hmmm. Did they? I don't think so. I mean, I read a lot as a kid, but not to the detriment of socializing. I didn't read while I was on the phone, which was pretty much all the time.

What’s the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was so good you couldn’t put it down?
One would think the answer would be the last Harry Potter. But in fact, I went to bed shortly after getting out of line. I can't remember the answer to this. I don't have the stamina to stay up half the night any more. But, I did read Harry Potter for 14 hours the next day, so I think this should still count since the affect of the lost time was similar.

Okay. The end of the meme. FUN!

When all of the blogs are a little random-like, should I bother to call them random thoughts? I feel like it's self-explanatory. But, then that pressing need to have some bold title perserveres...

I recently stumbled across the 1001 Books you must read before you die. I don't think this guy created it, I think it is supposed to be a compilation from critics suggestions or something. Frankly, I have never heard of many, many of these. Then, when I saw what they were -- I thought, if I have to read these before I die, I guess this means I am not allowed to die. Most of the books that I have read, I read because I had to in school. It got me thinking that if I had to create a list of books that you must read, what would be on it? I'm not sure. So, I think this is going to be a future blog topic. Keep in mind, I am not a scholar so don't think you'll find Moby Gone with the Tess of the Baskervilles or whatever that book was...



In other randomness, it's hard to have pregnant friends because I wind up putting this pressure on myself. The family pressure. The baby pressure. It's so fucked up. I can't imagine myself being responsible for some young person. Being responsible period, really. But yet, I just can't commit to not having kids. I can't imagine that my family would not eventually be traditional. And a woman who does not want to have children is a societal anathema. When I was in one of my many stages of flux on this decision, I was on a 2 year plan. I was going to wait until after Scott's 40th and a possible trip to Amsterdam and then I was going to take the plunge. I would be 35, so it's not crazy.

And I remember that I told this plan to a friend of mine and shortly afterwards, we were around some folks who were giving me a hard time about when I was going to get on board and she said something like it was okay, I had a plan.

As if it's NOT okay for me to not have kids and not have a plan. I don't know.

It's hardest to commit to this decision when I'm around little blonde haired boys, because I think that is what our baby son would look like. I was naturally blonde as a little kid and I guess I just think this will translate over and somehow it causes the longing.

Actualy, I have a problem committing to decisions in general. I just can't say I am going to do THIS and then feel comfortable sticking to it. After I lost 50 pounds, I had 30 more to go. But I just couldn't get motivated and got stuck. So, I decided to stay where I was and focus on maintenance so I wouldn't put the 50 pounds back on while I was trying to get motivated to lose the rest. But, I've put on 3-5 pounds lately and I can't commit to even working hard enough to get that off. I say to myself that I'm just going to be happy and learn to live with my weight. Do the best I can. Then five minutes later I'm reading stories about alli and Jenny Craig and thinking maybe I'll do that.

Can't commit.

Can't commit to one topic and finishing this catch up entry. But I'm gonna now!

Reel Sad

I'm looking for a good, old-fashioned inspiring movie. Or at least something that doesn't make me bored.

Perhasp I've been watching too many movie critics lately and I'm being overly picky. I know I definitely used to be a big old movie whore. Give me a rolling hillside and a British accent or some creepy confusing plotlines or both and I was set.

Recently I've seen the new Bourne thingy (Ultimatum?), Mr. Brooks, and Becoming Jane. None of which were anything to write home about. Ultimatum was probably the best because it doesn't really disappoint. It's a Bourne thingy and that's lots of crazy unrealistic car chases and government conspiracies and it's just good clean fun.

Mr. Brooks came out somewhat recently, can't remember when. Kevin Costner is a high level box company owner and apparently he has an alternate personality that's played by William Hurt. Mr. Brooks has an addiction to killing. I'm no good at plot summaries unless I'm truly inspired and this is not one of those times. There are just too, too many twists and turns that seem to be there solely for the point of twisting and turning. One or two of them may have been good but there were too many of them for any of them to be well-developed so it's like the movie that tried to be like five other movies about serial killers. For my money, I think that further developing the role of the daughter and leaving out the Mr. Smith guy and the TOTALLY pointless wife character may have really done some wonders for this movie. That and not casting Kevin Costner. A lot of critics don't really like Kevin Costner, and it's a good point that he's kind of always the same, but it's just that he had me at Field of Dreams and I have a hard time just letting that go. Even after all this time.

Oh, and Mr. Brooks -- you like killing. Just own it. That whole struggle with trying not to is just really silly and a further waste of time.

Tonight it was Becoming Jane. I have seen too many reviews bemoaning its mediocrity to have high hopes and I was not pleasantly surprised. There was always that hope. I think that movies I am meant to see with my godmother are just doomed. I completely agree with whomever said that it's completely ludicrous to assume that Jane Austen's life was some reflection of her novels. Whatever. And in those times, that her parents would say that they wanted her to marry for love and not money. Her father to say that, further. Whatever squared. And should that I be so poor that my house is strewn with Oriental rugs and have a piano in my conservatory and a two story cottage on however many acres... Oh, the rough rustic life.

God love Jane Austen, but I doubt that she would have remained single if she looked like Anne Hathaway.

Better to mire oneself in the Big Brother Backdoor-a-palooza than try to have hopes for decent movies in the summer. Even old ones.

I guess I'm not meant to understand

I don't get the fences and barriers we put up between us. It seems like the more possibilities there are for sameness, the more we try to find our differences and put ourselves in these little cubbyholes.

I do it, I'm guilty.

Black. White. Asian. Republican. Democrat. Christian. Jew. Muslim. American. Everyone else. Likes dogs. Likes cats. Hates all living things. Has an mp3 player. Drives an SUV. Drives a hybrid. Vegetarian. Carnivore. Skinny. Fat. Oily skin. Dry skin. Pretty people. Ugly people. Party people. Librarians. Librarians who party. Pro-choice. Pro-no-choice. Gets their news from The Daily Show. Gets their news from Fox. Left-handed. Right-handed. Gay. Straight. Confused.

I just get the most frustrated with the racial labels My neighbor going on about a young man visiting her daughter. The young man is going to a school that is predominantly black and when he comes to visit he sighs "It's so nice to be around white people." My grandmother talking about my uncle's wife and saying that "she may be black but she's a good woman." As if this is normally exclusive. My husband saying that I take these things too seriously. Or live with my head in the sand or something.

I get that we like to be around people who are like us. But it never fails to frustrate me. Even in my own behavior. I'm not any better -- I just reach a teeny bit outside of my own box. But even I for all of my soap-boxing have no close friends who are truly different from me.

And why not?

I guess it's the comfy blanket. It's easier to wrap yourself in views that are the same as yours, so you can comfort yourself in their authenticity. No matter how crazy we think the other guys way of thinking or acting or being or doing is, he thinks the same thing about us. We think we have it down. We think our way is the best and if only he had it like we did, then it would all be good.

Don't you think he thinks that too?

I just don't understand what it's going to take for us to all be on this same page. How does it start? Does it just have to ebb away gradually over time? In another 2000 years, will we finally see that we all have one thing in common across the board --

we all think we are right.

Princess Keeper of the Things


I've got to come up with a better Ya-Ya name, but this is something what I'm like. I have the things that people want. I have a large collection and it seems to be a jumbled mess, but I'm the only one who knows where the things are.

It's crazy the things that I am supposed to know what they are and where they are. Partly because I do. But partly because that's the part of his brain that Scott assigned to me. We have 700,000 wires lying around our house in some sort of crazy, puzzling tangle or another. We are not allowed to throw any of them away because we are going to need them one day. Yet, when the time comes to find the illustrious cord -- he expects me to know where it is and what it is.

Excuse me, I am the one who wanted all these cords out of here in the first place. I begged, I pleaded. Some of them are missing specifically because I hid them from you to see just how long it was going to be before you asked me where they are. And it was a long time ago buddy!

I have countless theories on why this is the way it is but really it's just to boil down to my only child theory again. Just search for that, it's all that.

I don't have time to tell you about it, because I think I just remembered where I put that cord...

Oh yes, it was ladies' night



There is so infrequently a ladies' night that it's actually a blog topic. It was a mini holiday. Crazy!



Friday was a long work day. I didn't get a lot of sleep Thursday night. Everyone that sits around me is off work on Fridays, so no social interaction to help me get through it. The weater was threatening to do terrible things. And we're all broke.



It just seemed like the factors were going against us.



But, Tina had a hall pass and Kay was in denial of just how badly she needed a pick me up. And, me -- I just wanted to be around high voices, as Julia would say.



So, we pushed through and decided to make a go of it.



Tina and I went to Kay's and had a pre-dinner nip. Tina and I had the added thrill of Kay having possession of the 1978 yearbook from the high school where we both had also graduated from -- some years later than that... Then, we decided to walk to the Thai restaurant I had insisted we eat at.



I love Thai food. The combinations of the flavors and the way the spices just creep up... It's awesome. I think the soup was actually my favorite thing. It was this coconut milk with hot chili sauce and cilantro and shrimp. The heat just kept rising slowly but stopped at a nice level. It was just awesome. I know, I'm saying awesome a lot, but it just was.



Then we decided to go to walk down Granby Street and wound up at this new club called Club 7. Another friend of mine wants to go there for her birthday in September, so it was partly curiousity on my part.



I haven't had that much fun dancing since a bachelorette weekend! We met this older gay couple when we first got there and for some reason, they were just really taken with me. We really hit it off and and were just having a blast. They bought our first round of martinis.



The club has 3 levels. The first level is just for chilling, the second is supposed to be techno and then the top level is hip hop. We went up to the techno level and there was music playing but no one there at all. So, Tina and I put on a show for ourselves. Some of the body guards from the other levels would come in and watch for a while. Kay didn't dance, but she was having a laugh riot watching us.



Then we went to the hip hop level... It was like Junior High. The boys were on one side, the girls were on the other. Minimal interaction and NO dancing. We got out as soon as we got there and started dancing. Grabbed some dudes from the sidelines and pulled them in to the show. I tried several times to get people from the sidelines on the floor dancing. Sometimes I was successful, but most of the time not. I was like a cruise director for the club or something.

I do not understand why things have to wait until midnight to start happening. If that's when you've had enough to drink to let your inhibitions loose then you either have too many inhibitions or you just need to start drinking earlier. It's that simple.

Anyways, it's taken me too long to try to record the events. They're not as fresh anymore. We had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to go out and be in the company of high voices again.

Yeah, so I've been playing with Flickr and so have been terrible about writing.

As usual.

Latest topic of note is that we are losing a tenant in the condo AGAIN. Oy. It's a combo factor of her being a bit of an idiot and sending a text message to Scott explaining that the rent would be late (again) and that she would pay on the 16th and would call later to explain.

I mean, why not just call?

This did not hit Scott well, as it was 5am on a Monday morning and has basically had it up to the roof with his job and people in general taking advantage of his generosity. Or something. At least, this is how it was summed up to me when he explained that he asked her to pack up by text message. And she agreed, having no concept of her rights as a tenant whatsoever.

I mean, Jesus.

So, once again can't keep someone in there til the end of their lease. And I'm in full on panic mode. I tried to call her myself and work it out but she didn't want to "stress anyone out" and she needed to get a roof over her child's head.

Um, sorry -- but if that was so important, how come the rent was always late? Am I just naive?

Oy. So, that's a bit of a stressor.

But, that's okay. I have lately put on about 5 pounds, so I can afford to skip a meal. Which not having any rental income may get me in the position to do.

Actually, about the 5 pounds. I don't remember gaining weight being this painful before. I must have bought new clothes every 10 pounds in a bigger size. My clothes are so tight and I come home every day with a button tattoo on my belly. I just feel like a Macy's float. And I KNOW that 5 lbs does not look like much to other people because I have borne witness to many people who said they needed to lose 5 lbs and then did and I swear I never saw the difference.

Crazy. I mean, when I quite WW, I had about 30 lbs to go to my goal. I was okay with that though because I had clothes that fit. This is not good.

And I don't understand, because I'm not exercising much and I'm not eating right and I'm drinking extra glasses of wine... WHY can't I get this weight off? It's just a mystery!

I got a new computer today -- which means I can play with pictures again!

We redid the sun porch -- stripped the carpet and put in a bamboo mat, got cushions for the chairs. I actually got Charlie to look at the camera -- quite a feat! And multiple shots of the librarian's baby boy. (And no, he's not nude in the Austin Powers like shot -- it's just accidentally framed that way.)