Oct. 3: This old house

Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful that we have a roof over our heads. But sometimes I really, really, really hate our house.

As I was getting up this morning, Victor came in to kiss me goodbye. Ten minutes later, I heard him yell this exasperated FYI from downstairs: I’M STILL HERE. I looked over the rail and saw him with a pile of tools at the front door, disassembling our doorknob. I didn’t need to ask what he was doing—every few years our lock gets all farked up and we get trapped in the house. It’s a simple fix, but it’s still a huge pain in the ass.

That stoopid doorknob is just one reason I really hate this place. There are more. After almost 17 years here, there are definitely more.

• The seals on two of our double-paned windows popped, I don’t know when, and make it look like we have never cleaned them—fortunately they’re not on the front of the house. Every once in a while I run across the paperwork for the warranty and think I SHOULD CALL, but then I don’t. And then I lose the paperwork again, and the next time I find it I think I SHOULD CALL…
• One of our cabinet hinges broke. I tried to replace it at Home Depot, but it’s a fancy type that can only be purchased from a cabinet maker. Tina said she found some on eBay, but we’d have to order, like, 489 of them and that’s infuriating because I only really need one. I like to think I’m the only person who notices that there’s no door on one of our cabinets, but I know people notice; they’re just nice enough not to point it out.
• We have tile countertops, which I loved when we bought the house but quickly came to hate. A lot of our neighbors have replaced their countertops. A lot of our neighbors are smarter than we are.
• I have a sense that our dishwasher sprays water on our dishes but doesn’t actually WASH them. And it’s not so much that I sense it, but that I see the evidence—pieces of food on many of the “clean” dishes that come out of the dishwasher. Also, its motor runs at 110 decibels, which—as you probably know—is the noise equivalent of a riveting machine.
• We got a new stove a few years ago, but with the old one went the pretty edging that made it blend into the countertop. The new one sits between unfinished tile edges. It’s not pretty.
• Our refrigerator has issues too, and while it mostly does its job, I still want a new one.
• A bunch of our cellular shades are messed up. Every one of them that doesn’t work right is thanks to a pet or kid. They chew the cords, or paw at the fabric, or generally act like house-ruining jackholes.
• Don’t get me started on the carpet.
• The fan in our master bath doesn’t work and that means it’s like Florida in there after our showers every morning.
• One of our master bath sinks doesn’t work. Well, the sink works fine—that would be one busted-ass sink if it didn’t do what it was supposed to—but the faucet is broken. I don’t like sharing a sink with my toothpaste-chunk-leaving, electric-razor-emptying husband.
• Speaking of faucets, the outside water spigots drip, so we have to turn the water off with the main whatever-you-call-it in the garage. This makes otherwise quick tasks like watering the plants or washing the car a more complicated process because…
• …our garage is an obstacle course.
• We have those fancy gutter covers but they don’t work for shit. When it rains hard, a fountain forms near the garage.
• Our wood floors have some swollen spots that need repair.
• The outside of the house needs to be repainted.
• Our deck needs to be repaired in a couple spots, refinished and sealed. And ideally, pergola-d. :)
• The backyard needs to be terraced and re-landscaped, once and for all. Every few years we fix it up, but there’s just too much of a slope for it to work un-terraced. Victor does not agree with this, but he also hates landscaping work.

The real problem here is that I want a new house, but all of these things would need to be fixed before we could sell this house, and if all of these things were fixed, I wouldn’t want a new house. Well, I’d probably still want a new house but I wouldn’t hate ours as much.

And really, there are things I like about our house. It’s the only home our kids have known. It sits on a street of decent people. It’s the perfect size for our family.

You know what I think we should do? All of us who have handyman skillzzz take turns at each other’s houses and fix the things we can. Like, I rock at painting and finish work like chair rails and crown moulding, organizing other people’s stuff, and light-duty landscaping. Maybe one of my friends can fix water faucet-related problems? And someone else knows a little about woodworking and repair? We could be like Habitat for Humanity, but instead we’d be Habitat for I Don’t Want to Go to the Trouble of Moving to a Different House.

Meh. It’d probably just be easier to set fire to the place.

Oct. 7: Sports are for… momma?

As I’ve bitched about mentioned already, Jack is playing tackle football again this year. It’s an incredible thing to watch each game. And by “incredible,” I mean “frightening,” because the combination of not-too-serious and very-scary-looking injuries, refs who don’t make the calls they should, and that one horrid mom sitting too close to me (just my luck her kid had to be on Jack’s team)… well, they cause my blood pressure to spike, my anxiety levels to go sky-high, and my skin to do something it shouldn’t. I don’t know exactly what my skin does, but I just read that stress is not good for women’s skin. Thanks, Idiot Scientists! Like we didn’t know that stress is pretty much bad for everything.

And Katie is competing in cross-country again this year. After not-great finishes last year, she’s finally grasped the importance of building up her stamina. Even so, every time she gets home from practice, she whines and whines (don’t know where she gets THAT) about how exhausted she is. I remind her that cross-country is exhausting—the name of the sport implies such—and also that no one is forcing her to do it. Pretty sure she’s in it for the Nikes and the season-end pizza party—I mean, she only played soccer in first grade because of the post-game snack.

The fact that our kids’ two chosen sports share the season is no picnic for me and Victor; our afternoons are different every day and therefore impossible to remember. It’s really only our sync-ed online calendar that keeps us sane.

Mondays: Jack gets home at 4:30, Katie stays at school for CC practice and I pick her up at 5:15.
Tuesdays: K&J get home at 4:30, Jack has to eat a hearty snack and get his gear on so I can take him to FB practice near the school at 5:15, Victor picks him up at 7:45.
Wednesdays: I pick up Jack at school at 4:05, feed him quickly and head off to Katie’s CC meet 4:35-6:00 at a park or school in the district, Jack’s FB practice is near school at 5:15 (hopefully he can hitch a ride with a teammate; otherwise one of us misses the CC meet), Victor picks him up at 7:45.
Thursdays: Jack gets home at 4:30, Katie stays at school for CC practice and I pick her up at 5:15, she showers quickly before they both have piano lessons 6:30-7:30
Fridays: K&J get home at 4:30, Jack has to eat a hearty snack and get his gear on so I can take him to FB practice at a local park at 5:15, Victor picks him up at 7:45, or they end at 7:00 if there’s a HS football home game that night and the moon is full and you’re holding your head just right.
Saturdays: Jack’s football game, anywhere from Sandy to Hillsboro, anytime from 9am-5pm; he has to be there an hour and a half before kickoff—Victor usually takes care of this delivery, thank Buddha.

The whole sports schedule is chaotic, to say the least, because things like dinner, homework, orthodontist appointments, and piano practice have to happen in waking hours too. I still work occasionally, and those twice-a-day naps won’t take themselves. But there’s something that makes the crazy all worthwhile for me.

No, it’s not alcohol.

Well, it’s mostly not alcohol.

Several of my friends with kids in cross-country (like Stephanie, Cristina, Dawn, and Julie) attend the weekly meets. Football games are all-Dina-all-the-time, plus some other fun moms. Not only do we get to hang out and sip from our flasks all stealth-like, we get to pretend we’re good parents while we cheer for our kids.

Momma likes the win-win.

Sep. 5: Already failing

It’s Day #5 of the September Blog Challenge! A bunch of people are playing along now, and I’m thrilled about that, but I haven’t had a chance to read their posts because of reasons. Well, one reason, which I’ll explain below. Today’s blog challenge topic:

What are some of the things you’ve learned that school won’t teach you?

Here’s my lazy answer: sometimes you can’t do the things you promised you would, like blog every day in September.

I spent all day yesterday staring at lines of code at work. I know, I know, some people do that all day every day and I should just shut up about it. But I went to work thinking I’d be there for an hour or so and ended up staying for six more than that. My brain is completely fried and my throat hurts from screeching many curse words. I kinda wish all the cursing would make me unwelcome to come back, but NO, I have to go in again today for more code-staring. Hopefully some code-wrangling-into-submission too, because OMG, I’m going to recommend this client goes to an all-paper system if this continues.

So I’m not actually putting time or thought into answering today’s topic because I’m a big whiny baby who occasionally earns her paycheck and has the grey hair to prove it. HOWEVER, this still counts as a post! Yay for making up rules of a blog challenge as we go along!

I hate to leave you hanging with this “why did she even bother?” only-technically-a-post post, so here’s a cute video of sleepy corgis. You’re welcome.

Jul. 31: Month in summary

Seems like I just wrote my June review, and it’s already time for July’s. I really should blog as much as I think about blogging. That would be a lot more blogging.

Special days I celebrated this month and how:

• Independence Day was spent with neighbors and we blew shit up. Yay!
• Relay for Life was last weekend. I was there as much as I could be.
• The biggie: Victor’s birthday a couple days ago. He turned old. We joined Sonya and her family over at their parents’ house for a way-fun birthday dinner celebration. I gave Vic a kidney stone to celebrate, because I’m a giver.

Gifts I gave and/or received this month:

• I guess the kidney stone thing was supposed to go here.
• Also, I didn’t really give Vic my kidney stone, but he was glad it was gone so I could stop whining.
• I didn’t really stop whining.
• I never really stop whining.

Books I read this month:

• I started reading The Light in the Ruins, by Chris Bohjalian. It’s fantastic so far. Dina and I went to his reading/signing at Powell’s a couple weeks ago and he was charming and told such great stories. One of my favorites was about how some bonehead who had self-published a ridiculous novel asked where Bohjalian got “those Oprah stickers” because he wanted to put them on his books to help them sell better.
• Whenever I mean to type “Bohjalian,” I SWEAR, I start to type “Boyardee.”
• I’ve picked up several books to read but haven’t been able to concentrate enough to finish a single one.

Movies and TV shows worth mentioning:

• We saw Despicable Me 2—adorable!
• Identity Thief. It was OK, with a few LOL moments.
• Vic and I have been watching Magnum, P.I. on Netflix, just for kicks. Wow—in 1980, Magnum’s shorts were SHORT.

New recipes or restaurants I tried

• Ranch Chicken Bake. There are tons of recipes out there, but this is the one I used. It was waaaay easy and pretty tasty. Most importantly, Katie and Jack both liked it. We served it with roasted zucchini and carrots. They did not like that part.
• Larks Home Kitchen Cuisine in the Ashland Springs Hotel. Delicious!
• Fancy Water. Jack came up with the name for a plain ol’ pitcher of water that contains slices of oranges, limes, lemons, and cucumbers. Although it isn’t a new recipe, I tried different varieties of citrus this time around. Can’t say it’s better, or even different, but it sure is yummy.

Special or unusual purchases I made:

• Capes! Relay for Life was superhero-themed this year, and I found an etsy artist willing to make us a big huge batch in cancer-fighting colors. I know I will totally wear my cape all the time, just like all the bridesmaid dresses I’ve collected over the years.
• Lots and lots of liquor. And then some more. We have enough for at least 37 parties.
• Materials for several DIY projects around the house—all very creative and mostly fun. Yay!

This month’s disappointments:

• The kidney stone was not a joke; I had another one. Apparently it was in my kidney when the other one made its presence known in June, but the ER doctor failed to mention that. This makes me madder than you can possibly imagine. I passed the stone on Monday and this is what I have to say: I am tired of kidney stones. No more.
• The timing of Relay for Life wasn’t so great this year and I felt like I missed out on so much of it. Total bummer. At least I did all my fundraising beforehand. HUGE thanks of you who donated garage sale items and/or $$ to American Cancer Society!
• I feel like the last part of July was a groggy blur, seeing’s that I was on some heavy-doody drugs. I think it was fun, though. Someone told me so.
• I dropped Katie’s iPod. iPhone Steve to the rescue!
• What’s the deal, Trader Joe’s? They’ve been out of Powerberries for months. Fortunately, they have lots of Roasted Coconut Chips, which I love.

My accomplishments:

• Our Geeks Who Drink trivia team (These Are Not the Answers You’re Looking For) finally took back our first place title. We were in second place again the next week, though. That other smart team is super-smart.
• I decided, for no reason whatsoever, that it was time to redecorate our bedroom. The furniture stayed the same, but I changed up our bedding, window coverings, and small décor. I don’t think Vic has noticed. He actually kinda hates when I make these kinds of changes, but at least this one didn’t involve paint! For me, though, the little touches make a cheery difference in daily life. I gotta do ‘em.
• Mom and I worked on a kitchen project all day today. We completely re-did the chairs—foam, lining, fabric and all—which was a task long overdue. The fabric on them wore out really quickly after we got them. Grrr. I chose a new fabric that goes better with the colors in the kitchen and family room; it’s prettier and sturdier and although it barely looks different in the photos below, you have to trust me when I say it is a HUGE improvement. Here are the before and after photos, both with Lucy Butt Goodness:

• Throughout the entire chair renovation project, there was no bloodshed. This is always worth mentioning when I’ve been using power tools (and yes, in my world, a staple gun is a power tool).
• An accomplishment I share with a couple hundred other people: our Relay for Life event raised almost $62,000 toward curing cancer.

Anything else noteworthy:

Nothing I can think of. Instead, you get sillies:

That’s it for July.

Apr. 23: Apps that work

If you don’t have an iPhone and/or iPad and/or iPod, then scroll to the bottom because I have something special for you there.

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So, I’ve hesitated sharing this info because my brother-in-law makes fun of my blog posts that have to do with iPhone apps, but I just can’t help it. I am in looooove with things that make my life easier. Ted, mock away.

But first, a little background. From the time I first purchased an iPhone, I’ve worked hard to make sure my iPhone calendar, contacts, notes, and email always match what’s on Outlook on my PC; Outlook has always run my life. Keeping it sync-ed with my phone was easy-ish until Victor got an iPhone, and then I had to get his sync-ed even though he had a different Apple ID and that might be when I started getting super curse-y. Add in a couple iPads, upgraded phones, and WiFi syncing, and you’ve got yourself one very stressed-out Jen.

A few weeks ago I gave up trying to get all our devices to have accurate information; it was seriously affecting my blood pressure. Giving up was kinda cool, actually, because I could get yell-y at Victor when he “forgot” about something on our calendar. I could be all IF YOU BROUGHT YOUR DEVICES TO ME TO SYNC REGULARLY MAYBE THIS WOULD NOT HAPPEN AND ALSO THIS IS NOT SCREECHING THIS IS QUIET GENTLE REMINDING AND WHATEVER JUST GO SIT IN THE SHAME CORNER RIGHT NOW.

So I went about finding another way to get the important info that we both need regularly to always be accurate. It took more missteps than I care to admit, so I’m just gonna tell you what I landed on.

OUTLOOK.COM. It has email (POP and IMAP for my manullang.com address—yay!), contacts, and calendar. Changes made on either the iDevices or outlook.com are fed almost immediately to all linked devices. I love that part. There’s really no need to plug our devices into my laptop anymore, and that was my goal. Happy Jen. My only complaint is that delivery times for my test messages have a significant delay; of course, with real messages I don’t notice.

Is outlook.com better than Google or Yahoo mail? It is for me. Your results may vary.

Finding the right app for notes was trickier. Our notes contain important but random things like lists of our physicians, the kids’ school IDs, exterior and interior house paint colors, account number, login IDs, recipes, gift ideas, etc. What I ended up using to handle our notes is Evernote. Here are several reasons that I love love love Evernote:

1. There’s a web version, which I can sync to all our devices. If I have a lot of typing to do, it’s much easier to do on my laptop than tapping out on my phone or tablet.
2. Notes can contain photos, links, and formatting. They’re pretty.
3. Notes can be organized into notebooks, which means Vic doesn’t have to scroll through my jewelry design ideas to find the login info for Comcast.
4. They’re perfect for recipes, and I love having those recipes handy when I’m at the grocery store and forgot to bring my shopping list.
5. Evernote notes can be used a bit like Pinterest, but-cept I can add detail, put several pictures in one note, etc. I like that I don’t have to dig through my Pinterest boards to find stuff I vaguely remember pinning. I especially like the way Evernote looks on the iPad:

Here’s the same page on the iPhone:

Verdict: Evernote is fab.you.luss.

Flipboard. Jim M. told me about this “social magazine” and I immediately downloaded it, but haven’t completely committed yet. It’s definitely better on a tablet, IMO, but no matter the size of the device, here are things I like a lot:

1. The interface is really slick.
2. Google Reader feeds can be added. I like the way you scroll through the items, almost more than I like Feedly (which I am still adjusting to and am not yet in love with).
3. Twitter feeds can be added too. I have a tough time remembering to read Twitter because I haven’t been using it much, and I like the idea of my feed appearing with other stuff I am in the habit of reading. A Facebook news feed can be added too, but I haven’t tried that.
4. It’s very swipe-y. That’s fun.
5. My favorite part is how important my friends sometimes look on the front page:

That’s a pic Sherilee posted of her golden beets, which is not a euphemism for anything of which I’m aware.

Can I share one of my many not-even-slightly-related pet peeves? I bet some of you share it too, and I bet others of you are guilty of committing this pet peeve of mine, which I’m pretty sure you do just to peeve me. That’s a thing, right? Peeving?

Email addresses. Why do people gotta make them weird? Like, don’t make them all cryptic or cutesy, or put weird characters in them, or stuff like that… it’s just confusing. Make your email address some form of your name (or nickname) and BE DONE WITH IT. Sheesh.

Sorry for getting’ screechy there. To make up for it, well, I got nothin’.

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Oh, and for you non-iDevice users, here’s a cute bunny to disguise my disappointment in you and the 20th century in which you apparently still live:

Lovies!

Dec. 13: In which Jen bitches a whole bunch

Before I get to the funny pics, I need to vent. It’s my blog, so I have the right to do it and I’m gonna. So pfffftt.  Note: I removed a section of this post, for several reasons. I’m sorry.

1. On Tuesday there was a random shooting at Clackamas Town Center. This is scary for tons of reasons, but for us, Clackamas Town Center is the mall we shop at most often—it’s LITERALLY too close to home.
   
   I’ve always joked that of the three largest malls in the Portland area, the worst crimes shoppers might face would be…
   1. Lloyd Center: gunfight or gang activity
   2. Clackamas: fist fights or gettin’ beaned by empty PBR cans
   3. Washington Square: whapped by a Coach purse in a random swinging
2. Turns out I was wrong, and that makes me mad.
3. I know we’re supposed to focus our thoughts on the heroes of the event—the positive things that happened during this tragedy, the ways people showed kindness to strangers—and all the ways it could have been so much worse, but what I think more than anything is that people are assholes. The shooter’s aforethought (stealing the gun, getting dressed in camo clothes and a hockey mask, planning for a crowded mall, etc.), not caring at all that it would affect thousands of people for the rest of their lives… only an asshole would commit a crime like that. Maybe an insane asshole, but definitely an asshole. Also a coward, who shoots himself at the end.
4. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE. There was recently another tragedy in our area in which a father woke his kids up in the middle of the night and shot himself in front of them. How do witnesses ever recover from something like that? I don’t think they do. Yep, all signs point to ASSHOLE.
5. GUNS. Say what you will for or against gun control; I don’t care. I just hate guns. I hate them, hate them, hate them.
6. I’m not done venting! (Does that make you mad???)
7. WHO MAKES THESE DECISIONS? Clackamas Town Center used to be in Clackamas, but now it’s in Happy Valley. Clackamas is not actually a city. There’s a county called “Clackamas,” and Clackamas is a region that makes it on the news when, say, Tonya Harding does yet another stupid thing, or when there’s a mall shooting, but that’s it. Wikipedia says Clackamas is a “census-designated place” (well, that clears it right the eff up!). On the other hand, Happy Valley, which is all around Clackamas, is a city. Happy Valley has changed its boundaries about eleventy times since we moved here in 1997, and I honestly don’t even know where we live anymore. There are signs in three different places on the way into my neighborhood that say “Welcome to Happy Valley,” but technically we are still in Clackamas. Why doesn’t stuff make more sense?

And now I shall share the silly stuff I’ve been saving up for y’all.

 

Mother Maaaaary:

 

 

Y’know how the past few election losers have quietly disappeared
for a while, not giving all sorts of reasons/excuses the other guy won?
I respected Dole, Gore, Kerry, and McCain for their post-election behavior.
Romney, take a cue and shut the holes in your perfectly-coiffed head.

 

Redneck advent calendar

 

 

Jul. 13: Poor me. Yeah.

Tonight, as I tore a chunk off a fresh, crusty baguette, I wondered if I might not have cut the correct amount of brie to go with it. Isn’t that the worst, when your brie-to-baguette ratio is way off? You try to fix it and suddenly the whole baguette gets eaten by me.

My computer died suddenly last week, and I spent this week researching replacements, purchasing the replacement, and transferring files from the old to new computer. I can’t remember the last time I bought a new computer and was excited about it—nowadays they have such short life spans that they’re never really an upgrade from the previous one. I’m not excited; I’m just all pissy that I have to fork out the $$ for a new computer. Grrr.

This new laptop has a number pad (bonus!) but the keyboard layout is just different enough that I’m mis-typing everything. Here’s the same sentence with my fingers on the keys that *feel* right:

yjod mre ;s[yp[ jsd s mi,nrt [sf z9npmid@) niy yjr lrunpstf ;supiy od kidy foggrtrmy rmpihj yjsy O

, ,od-yu[omh rbrtuyjhomh/

Vic has all next week off work, so we were hoping to get out of town for a few days. When I put all of Jack’s football clinics and camps on the calendar, though, it seems that football-related things might just keep us from going more than a couple hours away, and we’re definitely not going anywhere overnight. As if I didn’t already have a good enough reason to hate football (my reason: “just cuz”), I super-DOOPER hate it now. Pfft.

I had a really great story to share on my blog about when Victor and I first started dating and now I can’t remember it.

Yup, those are Jen’s First-World Problems of the Day. Week. Whatever. I’m whiny.

Dec. 30: Sparkles

Yeah, I know I just got a pretty great gift, but nothing’s ever enough for me and I suggested Santa could bring me a little sparkly somethin’ too. And guess what? Santa did not disappoint. He brought me somethin’ sparkly, alright. He brought me these:

Gorgeous, aren’t they? I don’t think I’ve ever had an emerald before, and these are such a beautiful green. In fact, Vic said he chose them because they’re green, sort of like a constant reminder that we kicked cancer’s ass. I love the sentiment. I eagerly tore out the crappy earrings I was wearing at the moment and put these beauties in. They looked like… well, I’ll be honest: they looked like happiness.

Later that evening, I changed into jammies and started to take off my jewels. I noticed that the emerald studs looked like they were falling out, so I checked to make sure the backs were tight. They were. The only thing I can figure out is that the emeralds were too heavy to just lay there in my ear holes; they were so big that they couldn’t help falling forward. Sometimes gravity is an asshole. I took the earrings out and tried them again the next day. Why did I think that would make a difference? It didn’t.

I loved the gift, and the meaning behind it, but I knew I would never wear these earrings if I was always worried they’d fall out and I’d lose one. I explained it to Victor and he suggested we return them and I choose something else. Last night I started looking around online at the many, many options I had to replace my emeralds. Vic said I could get a ring or necklace; that I didn’t need to get earrings if I didn’t want them. But I do want earrings—I need them with this awful hairstyle in order to look less man-like—and I also knew I wanted to stick with green. I expanded my search to include peridots, since they’re also green, and actually closer to the lime-green lymphoma awareness color.

I use peridot a lot in the jewelry I make because it’s pretty and not a very expensive gemstone (relatively speaking). This made it difficult to shop for earrings, since I saw most peridot earrings as something I could make my own damn self. I got lots of ideas for future projects, that’s for sure. But today I finally settled on these to replace my emerald studs:

Yes, I know they bear little resemblance to the emeralds Vic chose for me. But here’s why I chose them:

• Um, duh: they’re way pretty. I love the delicate swirls and the heart shape.
• They’re dangly and girly. With my current hairstyle, this is good.
• I suck (SUCK!) at wire work. There’s no way I could make these earrings my own damn self.
• The dark stone is onyx. This always reminds me of my dad because he wore an onyx ring in the last few years of his life that he really liked. After he died I discovered that onyx is often used to treat grief in crystal healing. It became one of my favored stones then. Like peridot, I use onyx quite a bit in my jewelry-making. Love.
• The little green stones at the bottom are peridot. I like the idea of Dad’s stone stompin’ on the lymphoma.
• My favorite part: these earrings are handmade, and the designer calls them “Dearest Heart.” How sweet is that? Very sweet, that’s how sweet.

Here are some of the metaphysical properties attributed to black onyx:

Black onyx helps to overcome grief, banish old habits, and encourage happiness and good fortune. Comforts in unfamiliar surroundings. Helps overcome feelings of loneliness. It helps with wound healing and increases stamina and self-control. Assists with challenges in life, in particular those caused by a drain of energy.

And here are some for peridot:

Peridot is said to help slow the aging process, physically and mentally. Strengthens and regenerates all organs, stimulating new, healthy growth. Acts as if one had just taken a health tonic. Promotes sleep. Aids physical detoxification. Excellent for health care workers, care givers, veterinarians, counselors, spiritual leaders and mothers. Many believe it to increase patience, confidence and assertiveness. It is said to be very useful in relaxation and the release of nervous tension. Emits a warm and friendly energy; thus called the “Stone of Friendship.” Crystal healers use peridot as a good all-around producer of positive energy and healing. It also eases adjustment to large life changes. It is given as a symbol of fame, dignity, and protection. 

I know it seems kinda first world problem-y to complain that the gems were too heavy to wear. Oh, poor me! My jewels are dragging! Although I wish I could have stayed with the emeralds Victor chose for me, I think these earrings are more practical and will still be very meaningful.

Either way, I gots me a good Santa—he’s my Dearest Heart, for sure.

Jul. 12: The whining and the ouchiness

I don’t know what I did, but my left hand is all jacked up. It’s messing with my ability to use my iPhone. I know! I don’t know how I’m surviving this either.

I like having opposable thumbs. I use them. Well, I use my right one, anyway. My left one is being a real a-hole. I know all the moving of boxes and furniture over the weekend couldn’t have helped, but seriously, Thumb. I kinda needja. Here’s why:

• When I drive, I hold the bottom of the wheel with my left hand, and hook my thumb around it. Now I can’t, because it hurts. So now I drive crazy. You’d best get out of my way.
• When I use my laptop, I tend to “drive” it like I do my car. Now I can’t, because it hurts. So I cry.
• When I hold my phone and do very important things for hours at a time, I use the index finger and thumb on my left hand as a stand—they’re pretty perfect for that. Now I can’t, because it hurts. I figured out that if I use a boob, I can almost get my iPhone to stay upright. Whatever works.
• When I pick things up, I often enlist the use of my thumb. Now I can’t pick things up, because it hurts. So I whine a lot more than normal, and I knock stuff around because I’m angry. HULK MAD THUMB HURTS!
• When I open the washer or dryer doors, my left thumb comes in handy. Now I can’t open the washer or dryer doors. So I don’t do laundry. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to get away with this.
• When I think, which I do almost constantly, I rest my chin in my left hand and tap my thumb on my jaw. It’s very “The Thinker” (not really) and I look like an idiot if I can’t do it just exactly that way at all times. Girl, you know it’s true.
• When I sleep, I look like an angel. That has nothing to do with my hurt thumb; I just wanted to brag a little.
• I’m afraid my promising future in thumb wrestling may be over. My dreams have died.

Why am I telling you all this? So you’ll feel sorry for me. So you’ll understand the lengths I go to for you, my adoring public of four, in keeping my blog updated even when it’s causing me great pain. It’s for you. It’s all for you.

May 18: Chemo #9

I started the “new” chemotherapy regimen today. As I mentioned last week, I’m now doing only the ‘R’ of my original CHOP-R regimen, which I completed three weeks ago. Rituximab (aka Rituxan, MabThera) is a targeted therapy and the idea is that continuing it for six months will kill the rest of OJ and, most importantly, keep him from coming back.

Today I decided that I don’t like this chemo regimen any more than the other. Here’s why:

• When I was on CHOP-R, I started the process by getting the IV, then getting very small injections of Ativan and Aloxi (for nausea) and oral Benadryl (for possible allergic reactions) and Tylenol (for fun, I guess). The majority of the time was spent getting either C, H, O, or R. The ‘P’—prednisone—was oral and taken for the four days after chemo.
  
  With ‘R’ now, I start with Tylenol and then get small IV bags of Benadryl, Pepcid (why?), and Decadron, which is a steroid and makes me think of ‘dodecahedron’—a very fun word to say and something I never really understood about geometry because a 12-sided polyhedron? What is that???
  
  Anyway.
  
  Then they start the Rituximab. It goes through an IV pump and it. is. molasses.
  
  (It’s not really molasses. I hope.)
  
  For me, the very slow process of this new regimen means that my time in the chemo chair is no shorter than before. That sucks. I really hate it.
• And that Decadron? Another steroid? Why? I hope it doesn’t do to me what prednisone did to me. Decadron’s side effects are similar to Rituximab’s, so that’s another pisser. The idea of feeling for the next six months the way I’ve been feeling for the past five months does not appeal to me in the least. Don’t be surprised if I start complaining about it.
• (I know, I know. I complain about everything. You won’t be surprised at all.)
• I asked my Facebook friends today what I should call this chemo thing now that it’s not a full chemo regimen, but a partial one. And is it #9, or is it #1? I got some very good suggestions, but after going through it today, I think this new process is not very different from the previous eight treatments. This makes me cranky cranky cranky.
• Today was the first time I’ve ever gone to chemo by myself. I figured since I wouldn’t be there very long, it wasn’t worth Victor taking the whole day off work. I also didn’t invite anyone else along, and that was stupid of me. I enjoyed blocking out the noise of the room with my ear buds and the “Rent” soundtrack, but it got old. I was bored. I was so bored I even chatted with Crazy Hat Lady. She’s very sweet but she’s, like, 350 years old and I have enough elderly folk in my life.
• Vic came by on his lunch hour and did a quick run for vittles. We smelled up the infusion room with our Taco Bell food (aromatherapy!), AND we got to have lunch together. Win-win for us. Not so much for the other patients.
• Some guy’s daughter brought in really good frosted shortbread cookies today. Crazy Hat Lady made a cake. Those things made me happy. Then the guy who shared the cookies fell asleep and snored up the whole room, and Crazy Hat Lady wouldn’t shut up about her damn cake. I really wanted to not be there anymore.
• Anyone want to be my chemo date on June 8 or June 29? Otherwise I will be lonely and sad.

I’m trying to keep a good attitude about the next six months of my treatment, but it’s frustrating. I’m tired of going through this every three weeks and feeling crappy right up until it’s time to start all over again. I’m just tired.