Jun. 18: Currently

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Listening

…to the bark bark barking of a neighborhood dog THAT ISN’T MINE. This might be a first.

…to the weird weather outside. It’s raining and hailing between brief sunny breaks. The sunny breaks don’t make noise, so it’s really only the rain and hail I can hear. Just thought I should clarify.

Loving

…these pictures of Lucy and Gilly at Bark for Life, a Relay for Life fundraiser we attended last weekend. They had a blast making new friends!

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…that Sunshine has been in town for the past few days. She goes home tomorrow, and that means my next post will be from a mental hospital. Pretty sure.

Feeling

…excited and a little anxious about my work friend, Terri, who had a heart transplant yesterday. The surgery went well and her daughters have been great about posting updates to Facebook ever since she got the call Saturday night. They’re planning to take out her breathing tube today and then her real recovery can begin. Yay, Terri!

…like an idiot over one of our Father’s Day gifts for Victor. He recently got a new gas grill, so the kids and I decided his FD gifts would be grill-related. We found fun gadgets and tools, and I was especially excited about the bag of mesquite charcoal… because I’m a moron. Not sure what he’s going to do with that fancy charcoal ON HIS GAS GRILL.

…lonely without my wiggly Ollie.

Wanting

…to apologize to everyone who was in earshot of me at our party last Thursday. I think I was potty-mouthier than I realized. I was also, apparently, quite grabby. I am so very, very sorry to anyone I might have offended and promise to pay for your kids’ psychotherapy and the cost of cleaning my many grimy handprints off your clothes.

Needing

…to work up some motivation to reorganize my office. Not only do I have piles of papers to sort and general clean-up to do, I want to rearrange the furniture to make it a more usable space. It’s actually a very comfy room; I used to spend most of my time in there. When Lucy came to live with us, our upstairs was off limits to her, so I started hanging out in the family room to keep an eye on her. She doesn’t need constant supervision anymore, and I’m ready to move back upstairs… just waiting for that PUSH to get the reorganization project going.

rfllogo2Accomplishing

…more of the tasks toward readying our Relay for Life day-of-Relay fundraising project. Our team is going to sell lanyards and “lap beads,” which will help walkers track the number of laps they walk. When I started planning, I had no idea how many decisions were involved in these crazy things. I’m glad my mom was around this past weekend to help. She and I picked out fun beads to represent each lap and mile:

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The lanyards have lobster clasps at the bottom, which can hold these additional charms we’ll have for sale:

rflheartcharmrflhopecharmrflrelaycharmrflribboncharm

All survivors will get one of these for their lanyard:

rflsurvivorcharm

I’m excited about this fundraiser—I’ve read about lots of other Relays that have done lap beads and they’re crazy-popular. Many Relay teams double their fundraising on the day of Relay with this kind of thing. I just hope we’ll be able to cover our costs.

Enjoying

…Jack’s most recent fascination: making stop-motion videos on the iPad. He and Mack are upstairs right now, setting up another LEGO minifigures movie. It’s a tremendous time-waster, but I gotta admit, it’s pretty amazing to see the finished product.

…relative peace and quiet now that school is out. I like not having anything urgent to complete today—just laundry. Maybe a stab at some of the piles in my office. And a nap? Yes, a nap would be delightful.

sharing silly stuff

moobs

koolaid

princessbride

pinner

adopted

Later—

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Jun. 17: Oliver

oliverToday we had to give up our little dog, Oliver. It was heartbreaking.

A couple weeks ago he chased three adorable neighbor girls away from our house and bit one of them (that they were adorable is really beside the point, but let’s be honest: society roots for the cute). Oliver has shown aggression toward strangers before, but never to this degree. In a neighborhood like ours, with our kids and their friends in and out of our house all the time, we absolutely can NOT have a bite-y dog.

Not being able to conquer Oliver’s fear of strangers makes us feel like we failed as pet owners—we did our best, and loved him like crazy, but we couldn’t turn him into a well-adjusted, trusting dog. We suck, and it sucks so much that we suck. Suuuuuuck.

The good news is that the breeder seems to know exactly how to bring Oliver back into his original pack (she still has his momma and two sisters). We left him at her house nine hours ago, and she just called to tell us how it’s going so far—not perfectly, of course, but there is hope. Vic and I are impressed at her techniques for very gradually showing him his new home. We all feel that Ollie will eventually be happy there.

At our house, he only really adored five people—us and my mom—so it wasn’t obvious what a loving and devoted companion he was. To most people, Oliver was snarly and timid, but to us, he was a wiggly bundle of sweet. Always happy to welcome us home, with a tail constantly wagging, Oliver was a very fun addition to our family. He was a good napping buddy, and such a cuddly boy. He loved having Lucy as a playmate; they smartly teamed up to torment Millie (the kitty) every time she walked through the door flap.

Tonight, Lucy is confused and bored. The house is a little less hairy and a lot quieter. While we’re sure we did what needed to be done, it was an incredibly hard thing to let Oliver go. We miss our little dude.

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Jun. 15: Second annual last day of school blowout

Fifteen minutes after yesterday’s dismissal bell, bunches of us gathered at Tina’s and my houses for a last-day-of-school party that would go until almost midnight. I think we have the best friends EVER. What a blast.

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I love these cocktail napkins

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See that sweet girl Angie is hugging on the left?
She’s having to comfort her because I said a very naughty word.
I’m a bit of a potty-mouth drunk, but for realsies, I didn’t know she was there.
So sorry, Angie!

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Two of  my best girls: Sunshine and Val

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Tina’s bounce house is always a hit with the little peeps

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Cindi and Sunshine do NOT look happy with whatever Olivia is telling them

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Darby and Jim brought the testosterone

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This should really have said “Adults Spilling Drinks”

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Aw, this be my favorite boy and my favorite girl!

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Tina and Jenn K

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How much do I love this picture?
Julie L., me, Wendy, Theresa, Heather L.
We are feeling fiiiiiine.

 

Here are some things y’all left behind. Please claim them or I will.

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I think Julie H. brought this cake vodka.
If it was left intentionally, THANK YOU!
If not, I’ll try not to drink too much of it before I have the chance to get it back to you.

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The green bag says “Sharon Manuel” so I think it might belong to Sharon Manuel.

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Annie’s?

 

This morning I went out in the driveway to survey the damage we wrought. It was a bit like viewing the wreckage of the Titanic, but-cept we lost far fewer third-class passengers in this chaos.

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Oh, if this cocktail stirrer could speak, the tales it would tell…

Our recycle bin tells the real story, although it’s not even the whole truth:

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Here are three very large, very empty bottles of vodka.
I’m embarrassed to say they were full when the party started.
Needless to say, I don’t feel super-great today.

 

We had a great time celebrating the last day of school, even though some very important people were missing from the party. I don’t remember a lot, but I’m pretty sure it was a good time. How lucky are me and Tina to know such amazing people???

Now, can anyone can tell me how to make the buzzing in my head stop?

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Jun. 11: I floated

You’ve heard of those isolation tanks, the ones in which people are put when they go all cuckoo, and once inside, go even cuckoo-er? Don’t they sound super-fun? I don’t think so either. But a couple weeks ago a friend posted on Facebook that she was about to do a float session at a spa, and I got curious because that didn’t sound like prison or a psych ward.

First, the setting: approximately 11 inches of body-temperature water in a giant lidded bathtub, containing over 800 pounds of Epsom salt. The salt makes you incredibly buoyant so you cannot HELP but float. The tank is large enough that you can’t touch the top, eliminating any similarities to a coffin. Some tanks have lights to help with claustrophobia, but because a light cancels out a big part of what it means to be deprived of one’s senses, floaters are encouraged not to use them.

The benefits of sensory deprivation floatation therapy (from The Book of Floating, by Michael Hutchinson) are what convinced me to give floating a try:

“Floating stimulates the brain to secrete endorphins: pain-killing, euphoria-creating substances known as the ‘body’s own opiates.’”

I like opiates. I like opiates A LOT.

“Lab studies show that floating can rapidly and significantly decrease stress and anxiety, by sharply lowering the levels of bio-chemicals directly related to stress, anxiety, tension, the ‘fight or flight response,’ heart disease and other stress-related illnesses.”

Do I sweat the small stuff? I sure do. I sweat the small stuff, the medium stuff, the big stuff, the nonexistent stuff, the impossible stuff, the boring stuff, the forgotten stuff, the unrelated stuff… all of it. Does this make my anxiety levels go sky-high when one teeny-tiny bad thing happens? Yes. So… pretty much anything that might help lower that = good.

“There are indications that floating can suspend the dominance of the detail-oriented left hemisphere of the brain, allowing the right hemisphere (which deals with large-scale and novel information) to operate freely, giving the floater access to unusual powers of creativity, imagination, visualization and problem solving.”

This kinda sounds like floating could possibly curb crazy OCD tendencies and make me more easy-going and nice. Everyone who works or lives with me will agree this could be a very good thing.

“Floatation tanks are being used in schools and universities as tools for ‘super-learning,’ increasing the mind’s powers of comprehension, retention, and original thinking.”

Thinking is good stuff. I like doing it.

“Indications show that two hours of floating are more restful and restorative than a full night of sound sleep. This makes floating, in the words of one prominent scientist, ‘a method of attaining the deepest rest that we have ever experienced.’”

The most awesome nap ever? Sign me up!

“Research has demonstrated floating reduces pain of multiple types, whether caused by an acute injury, physical exertion, or chronic condition—including tension-related muscle pain and fibromyalgia. Muscles feel especially positive benefits from floating, as the combination of support and Epsom salt work together to give them total relief. The body absorbs magnesium from the Epsom salt-infused water, which facilitates flushing of lactic acid from tired muscles.”

I have near constant joint pain—this treatment sounds delightful.

“Women reap the most beneficial rewards. Sessions in a tranquility tank unknot forehead tension and relax tightened strings of the face. When muscles behind the skin are in stress, they are reflected on the skin's surface. Eliminating stress and its effect on your body makes you feel and look more attractive and energetic. In addition, floating in Epsom salt makes your skin softer, smoother, and draws toxins such as lactic acid away from your body.”

Floating could make me pretty? Is there anything floating cannot do?

Wow. I’m in.

My mom was excited to try it too. I made float appointments for us at the same time at Float On, one of several Portland float centers. We were in two separate tanks, of course—there are some float tanks built for two, which is crazy, IMO. How can you enjoy the benefits of floating with someone else there? We were given a short orientation before we went off to float. One of the few cautions was not to touch or splash our faces once in the tank—apparently the salt water is incredibly painful if it gets in your eyes.

There was a shower in each tank room, which we were told to use before and after floating. Nothing was fancy, but everything was clean and freshly disinfected. There were shower shoes, a thick white robe, cozy towel, soap, earplugs, vaseline (for covering cuts, which hurt like a MOFO in salt water), ear drops to help get salt out, and Q-tips. The only things I brought were shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer, and a headband. Mom brought a blow dryer.

Mom was in a “tall” tank—there’s a normal-height door, and you walk into the tank. Mine was a traditional tank, meaning I did more of a crawl to get in. Once inside, you turn around to close the door behind you and everything goes black and quiet. There is almost no odor in the air—nothing beach-y or chlorine-y. If you can lay down and avoid moving, you’ll create no waves. They tell you the temperature of the water is such that you won’t be able to tell where it ends and you begin—and that’s exactly what happens. It’s actually quite lovely.

I let my head/neck relax, and that made my ears go underwater. I did not love this; I could hear myself breathing and my heart beating and that was distracting. I don’t think the earplugs would have made that any better or different. Every time I moved, even a little bit, the waves would float me to one side, interrupting the, uh… deprivation of my senses. I was annoyed. Trying extra-hard not to move made it even harder to relax. Grrr.

Most people, we were told, enter a “theta” state while floating. What is the “theta” state?

In Theta, we are in a waking dream, vivid imagery flashes before the mind's eye and we are receptive to information beyond our normal conscious awareness. Theta has also been identified as the gateway to learning and memory. Theta meditation increases creativity, enhances learning, reduces stress and awakens intuition and other extrasensory perception skills.

I was looking forward to theta. Unfortunately, I never got there. Although I felt plenty relaxed during my 90-minute float, I didn’t have any weird visions or increased awareness. Instead, my mind never seemed to slow down and was, in fact, all over the place:

I wonder if Mom is in theta
I wonder if Mom used the earplugs
I wonder how long it’s been
if this were to end right now I don’t know if I’d feel like I really relaxed
I hope Mom doesn’t think this sucks
I hope I’ll be able to get all this salt out of my hair
I wonder if Mom is in theta
I forgot to answer that email I have to do that the second I get home
I need to send out the party invitations dang I keep forgetting
I wonder if Mom is enjoying this
stretching feels waaaay good in here
I can’t believe I’m still not in theta dammit
this hangnail hurts like a mofo
I should do this again
if I do this again maybe I can relax more
I wonder how much time is left
this better make a good blog post
if this were to end right now I don’t know if I’d feel like I really relaxed
why aren’t I in theta is Mom in theta
I wonder how long it’s been
the guy said we’re an inch taller in here because our spines decompress while floating
what about when I get out will I still be super-tall does that mean I can get all new shoes
brainoo ee oo ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bang
I promised Victor I’d sing that and I did
oh god I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve gone cuckoo
did I leave my phone on what if it rings would they hear it out in front how embarrassing
I’ll be pissed if I’m too relaxed to sleep tonight
why aren’t I seeing weird stuff like in that one episode of The Simpsons
am I doing something wrong
I forgot where I parked the car
is Mom in theta
do I have enough shampoo to get all this salt out of my hair
if this were to end right now I think I could say I relaxed

…and so on.

The music piped in underwater came in quietly, slowly, telling me my time was up. I got out and showered. The salt came out of my hair, no problem. It was weird not to be pruney (thanks to the salt). I felt very peaceful. I was bummed not to have gone into a theta state, but because it was my first time floating, I blame it on everything being so new; maybe it gets easier each time.

It turned out that Mom and I had very similar float experiences—she didn’t go into theta either, but she agreed that floating was very relaxing; we weren’t complaining, just disappointed not to go a little wacko while being deprived of our senses.

I went to Float On again yesterday. I relaxed much more, and if I went into theta, I wasn’t aware of it—can a person be aware of themselves being in theta? I need to research that. The thing I definitely need to change is how bothered I am by floating to the sides—I think the stress of staying in the absolute middle of the tank has kept me from relaxing more.

The verdict is this: I loved the experience, but I need a few more sessions before I’m completely sold on floatation therapy. If you get the chance to float, you definitely should—and report back to me.

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Jun. 7: Ants-b-gone

exterminatorWe have ants. Just a few, and they’re those little teeny ants, but that doesn’t make it any less icky. There is small comfort in the following:

  • I have not found ants anywhere in our house but-cept for the kitchen
  • I have not found ants in our food
  • I have not eaten any (I hope)

Where’d they come from? I blame the big dog. Recently she briefly stopped digging outside to put her paw in my coffee; when she finished stirring it, there was a little ant doing the backstroke in there. Ergo, Lucy’s fault.

(Oooh, I kinda liked using “ergo” in that thar sentence up yonder. I think this usage of “ergo” might be a first for Stuff Jen Says.)

We got ant killing spray and take-it-back-to-their-nest-goo traps but the ants keep coming back. In the past week I’ve smashed, like, six of them every day. I know; it’s far from an infestation here at the House of Manullang, but still. Yuck. So yesterday I got on the ‘net to find out what repellent or poison or whatever I should use to make the ants leave our kitchen. Here’s what I found: [insert glorious sound of the heavens here] BLUE DAWN LIQUID DISHWASHING SOAP is the answer. It must be Dawn, and it must be blue. The ants hate it.

Supposedly even a residue of a blue Dawn and water mixture will keep ants away, so I figgered I’d not only spray the kitchen countertops, I’d wash every item in the kitchen with blue Dawn and that would increase the chances of this whole effort being effective. Smart, no?

Slowly and methodically, I cleaned every item in the kitchen with blue Dawn and put it back in place. Once I got into the cleaning groove, I enlisted the help of more cleaning products. I used a razor blade to scrape wax off the window and tile where Jack exuberantly extinguished a candle. I ran vinegar through the coffee maker five times to make that “cleaning required” light finally go off (full disclosure: it wasn’t so much the vinegar as—heh heh heh—I might have broken the light). I thoroughly washed all the windows. I scoured the stovetop with baking soda. I scrubbed every inch of the top half of our kitchen. In the end, the room was spotless. I was filthy, but everything else was OCD-clean.

And then I saw a little mofo ant walking along the edge of the sink.

[Insert the curse heard ‘round the world here.]

All ninja-like, I sprayed the ant with the blue Dawn/water combo and ffffzzzzt. Dead.

It. Was. Awesome.

Sure, I was irritated that after all that work, the blue Dawn residue didn’t seem to be repelling the ants, but it was all kinds of powerful cool to have something so immediately effective in the spray bottle. I might have maybe possibly kinda turned into James Bond for a minute. Or maybe Charles Manson, just bat- ant-shit crazy. Whatever; if there was a black speck that even slightly moved, it got sprayed.

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I found two ants checking out the sink this morning. They were probably looking for their friends who never came back from hunting yesterday. Ha! Those ants are extry-clean now. All day I’ve been checking the counters for more and I actually squeal a little when I see one—more ffffzzzzt! Wheeee! I don’t like having ants, not even a little bit, but OMG, I sure do like spraying ‘em.

Now, what we know about ant behavior is that the rest of the ants will hear about the carnage in our house and move on to another one, right? Or will they develop new skills and advance above me in the food chain? I really don’t know how ants work.

This extermination thing may not be going like I planned, but it is going well. The twitching, muttering, foaming, slightly blue girl in the mirror says so.

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