yep, when it rains, it pours

I really appreciate our car mechanics at Bayless Tire & Auto. They're the best. They're very knowledgeable, and they get the work done quickly. And they're close to our house, so we can easily walk there to drop off/pick up the car.

However, I would prefer they didn't know us on a first name basis. Perhaps it's time for a new car when this happens.

I would also love it if the above-mentioned piece of crap wonderful, sexy, beast of a car wouldn't die in my company's garage. The one that only allows access in and out (yes, from the inside) with an access card. That way I wouldn't have to stand there in the freezing-ass cold and wait for the tow guy to load up my car so I can kindly let him out. I'm all for safety and all, but it's not like we work in north city.

Boy wouldn't it have been nice too if I'd called our auto agent and asked to add the tow coverage on before it needed to be towed 3 times in the past two years. Yep, that would have been great. Perhaps now is a good time to heed this lesson and get it added. That is if it's not in fact time to rid ourselves of the piece of crap wonderful, sexy, beast of a car.

sheesh

I love it when everyone freaks out about the weather. This morning when we woke up there was MAYBE ½ inch of snow – really light and fluffy snow too, the kind that doesn’t even need to be scraped off the car. Just a quick swipe with the wipers is all it takes. Funny enough though, the news was telling everyone to stay home if at all possible. The roads were treacherous, there were accidents everywhere, and there was a threat of more snow this afternoon (which has yet to materialize at 2:30 PM).

Add in the fact that last time they predicted 5 inches of snow we got maybe ¼ inch, and none stuck to the roads as it was like 37 degrees all day. Hmmm.

I’m all for erring on the side of safety, even though I’m not one to do it. But seriously? Staying home with ½ inch of snow? That’s a bit much. The roads weren’t even slick. I usually defend my lovely state of Misery from those who call us wimps when we cancel schools after 3 inches of snow. I’m also all in favor of taking much needed snow days, even if they’re unnecessary. But really.

Then again, if you’re dumb enough to believe what you hear on the network news channels, then perhaps you should stay off the roads.

you need a new hat

My good friend started his very own Etsy shop. He crochets, and is great at it. He is currently selling hats, scarves, and soon will be selling mary jane style slippers. He will be offering already-made merchandise and also taking special orders. He’s made my Bee a hat, and also an awesome pair of hi-top slippers complete with non-skid bottoms. They’re beautiful. I’ve also seen blankets that he’s made, and they’re gorgeous. I’m sure he could be convinced to make anything you can dream up – for a price of course. No really though everything is quite reasonable. Check it out!

On a non-related note, I’m pretty sure I heard one of the worst sounds ever today – a kid screaming in the room next to me at the dentist. Being at the dentist’s office is bad enough – do I really need to hear a kid in pain? It was horrible. And soon to be followed up by the sound of the dentist sawing the heck out of my custom-fit bite guard (apparently I grind my teeth at night and had no idea – so bad in fact that they’re practically worn down to mere nubs – like maybe a year from being rid of enamel altogether, nice). Not a nice sound. But my dentist is kind of attractive, so going there isn’t the worst thing in the world.

On a kind of funny note, my dentist practices with his brother and father in a practice started by his grandfather. His father’s name is Christopher Wolken. I can’t help but think of the infamous Christopher Walken whenever I happen to spy his business card at the check-out desk. More Cowbell!

the avatar debate

So I took my ‘little bro’ to see Avatar yesterday. I really didn’t know much about the movie except that it was in 3D, which I didn’t really care about. I was actually worried it would get old, or that wearing those glasses for 2 ½ hours would give me a headache.

I ended up really enjoying the movie. We both did. The 3D was really cool, and though the glasses were annoying, they weren’t that bad. It was really beautiful, actually. The colors were amazing, and I thought a lot of creativity was used in the creating of the native people and how they interact with nature. They way they ‘plugged’ into the animals for instance was really cool.

The story wasn’t great, but it wasn’t so horrible as to throw me out of the experience. Then again, I didn’t expect much either. Big budget, 3D movie – no surprise there that the story was somewhat secondary and not really the focus. It was predictable and cheesy, and the characters were very stereotypical with dull dialogue. So what. It was more than watchable, and again, I didn’t expect much, so whatever.

I think it’s funny how up-in-arms people are getting about how cheated they felt by the story. Seriously? I just can’t imagine going into this thinking it would be Oscar-quality acting and writing (not that I think the Oscars are the be-all/end-all when it comes to movies anymore). It was made to be visually beautiful, which it was. And the main character (Sam Worthington? Never heard of him) was not too hard on the eyes either. Yum.

When I go to the movies I want to be entertained. Sometimes that means witty dialogue and great acting, sometimes it means rip-roaringly funny, and sometimes it’s a beautiful setting. It doesn’t have to be all three, or perfect in any way. If a movie can entertain me for 2+hours without needing to look at the clock, then I consider that a success. I really enjoyed the movie, and couldn’t believe it when it ended 2 ½ hours later. It seemed like maybe a ½ hour. So I say it’s a success.

Go and see it, you’ll enjoy it. Just don’t go into it thinking it’s going to be some masterpiece, and just ignore the meathead characters and cliché dialogue. It’s not hard when you’re distracted by the 3D and scenery anyway. Enjoy it for what it is and no more.

top ten art accidents

This is a great article. Here's an excerpt:

On Jan. 22, 2010, a New York Metropolitan Museum of Art visitor accidentally fell into The Actor, a 105-year-old painting by Pablo Picasso, ripping the canvas.

Wow. I've done a lot of stupid stuff, for sure, but this is incredible. Although had I done this I would have probably peed myself out of sheer horror and embarrassment, only magnifying the horribleness of the situation. I've dropped a thing or two in my time, no big deal. But wow. The thought of this happening to me boggles the mind.

why didn't I know about this earlier???

I just became aware of restaurant.com. Wow. You can get gift certificates for restaurants at way discounted prices. And there are a ton of restaurants on the list.

We really like a local brewpub, Mattingly's, and go there as often as possible. Good, cheap food, and great beer. On this site I can get a $25 gift certificate for $10, and if I enter the code BONUS on the checkout page, I can get it for $2. That's $25 worth of food for $2. Crazy.

So now I can stuff my face and drink a boatload of awesome, freshly-brewed beer for the low price of $2. Does life get any better? I think not.

oh puhleeeze

Dear Universe:

Please help me find a new job. You have to. I’m going to go crazy here. Scratch that, I’m already there. I’m going to get crazier and crazier until my head starts spinning like the girl from The Exorcist and then blows up.

The dream job I submitted my resume for last week is still open. It sure would be great if you could maybe blow a gust of wind (indoors? somehow?) and magically make my resume land on top. Or if you could send some subliminal messages. Whatever, I’m not picky. Just make it happen? I’d be forever in your debt.

What will it take? I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg, I’m fine with that. Whatever. Anything. I’ll do it.

Sincerely,
With love,
Faithfully yours,
In your debt,

Norma Jean

Seriously, looking for a new job is hard. Thankfully I still have a job. I can’t imagine doing this after being laid-off like so many right now, how horrible. Unfortunately the working conditions at my current job are bad, but at least I’m still getting paid. I’m kicking myself for letting a position go back in December – well I didn’t let it go, I just didn’t get it because I was stupid and emphasized wanting to find a job with growth potential. Right now that’s the last thing on my mind. Live and learn, right?

Why can’t I be one of those people who has opportunities fall right into my lap?

life without Chay

So far life without Chay has been just that…life – without Chay. It’s weird. I feel quite a bit of relief, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t really even know it was there until it was gone. No more worrying about her leg breaking, about getting her meds, about whether or not we were keeping her alive too long. That’s a lot to have on your plate.

I keep seeing things that remind me of her. Last night I washed her towels, the one we put under her bowls and the one we used to wipe her feet. Those were her towels. They looked so wrong sitting in the closet. She’ll never use those towels again, we’ll never again wipe her feet. I put her kong in the dishwasher this morning. Her pills are still in the cabinet, because we don’t really know what to do with them, and throwing them away doesn’t seem right. This morning I began to turn my head towards her room to say good-bye to her, but stopped myself. She’s not there.

I got my new checks in the mail yesterday. I’d been ordering greyhound rescue checks for a while now, but decided to go with the standard issue bank checks this time, thinking I’d save a little money. I should have gotten the greyhound ones. I ordered them before she died. They weren’t even that much cheaper. That sucks.

The other day after we came home from grocery shopping Bee went into Chay’s room (well her room now), stood by the bed, and said ‘Chay-chay?’ She’d moved on to something else before we could even respond, but that hurt. Bee won’t even remember her.

I sat down at the computer to put together a little tribute for her on Facebook, and was overwhelmed when looking through all the pictures we have of her. I’d forgotten how she was, what the cancer took away. She was so fun-loving and silly, always lying in funny ways, always ready to run or pounce. She lived for walks, and her ears would perk up at even the slightest sound resembling her collar/leash. We couldn’t even take plastic bags out without her wanting a walk. She used to come in for pets at least once an hour, and loved snuggling on the couch or our bed. She hadn’t done those things in so long. She wasn’t herself, and it happened so slowly that we didn’t even realize it.

I’m eternally thankful that we decided to be with her until she died. We held her as she took her last breath. We watched her head jerk around at every sound because the sedatives have a hallucinatory effect. We were there as she went from a nervous, panicky dog (how she always was at the vet) to being calm and pain-free. I knew the exact moment that she died. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I guess eventually I’ll stop thinking about her as much. It’s okay now. I like the constant reminders. They’re not a wet nose poking me for pets, but it’s something.

Chayla, AKA ‘SV Mamas Fool’ – September 15, 1998 – January 17, 2010

We said good-bye to our first baby girl, Chayla, on Sunday. It was incredibly hard, but also somewhat of a relief – she was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a very aggressive cancer, just before Thanksgiving. The tumor on her shoulder had grown to about the size of a tennis ball. She was in pain, but Sunday was the first time we looked into her eyes and they were sad. It was time.

We took her for a short walk, her favorite thing, but also something she hadn’t done in a month at least. Then she went on a car ride, which was probably her second favorite thing. She got a great dinner the night before and a great breakfast, and plenty of treats. She was so excited to go for her walk, more excited than she’d been in a while. It was a good last day.

We were able to sit with her and hold her the entire time. I wouldn’t have it any other way. She slipped away peacefully, and I am grateful for that. Life won’t be the same without her and already our small house seems very empty.

It was only after looking at pictures we’d taken over time that I realized how much the cancer had changed her in only a few short months. She was so happy, so full of life. Nothing got her down. Stubborn as the day is long, but sweet and loving too. It seems like forever ago that we saw her do this:

This was her playful pounce. This is the picture posted on the rescue group’s site, the picture that made us fall in love with her.

She went with us to the cabin every year at least once. I’ve never been to the cabin without her; it won’t be the same. We’re going to bury her two collars – one at home, one at the cabin. We’ll be burying her Mizzou collar there – a little humor, as the cabin is in Arkansas. This is Chay on the boat. She loved the boat, loved having the wind in her face.

Chay was such a comfort to me during my time on bedrest. She would snuggle with me on the couch. We would share a blanket. Occasionally she’d get very comfortable:


I loved that she was there with me, making me laugh. She was so good at that.

This is a picture of Chay and her best friend, Hank. Hank belongs to our best friends who live in Columbia (though he might argue that they belong to him). They tolerated one another for a while, until the night we left them alone and they managed to tear through a whole bag of pigs ears. From that night on they were best friends. Chay was getting on in years, and though she was robbed of a lot of good life, she was a lazy girl. But Hank brought out the puppy in her. They were so darn cute together.

I could go on and on forever about Chay. She was our first baby, our best girl, for 6 ½ years. We knew she was ours the minute we visited her at her foster home. We just clicked. Chay had been in and out of homes for a few years, never fitting in. But the three of us were perfect together. Everyone loved Chay, she was so special. She had a way of digging into your heart and staying there.

It will be a while before we get another dog, though I know someday we will. I don’t know that I can face the thought of losing another to this horrible cancer, which is very common in greyhounds (and I would only ever get another hound). Maybe when Bee is a little older. Maybe when we’ve got a bit more disposable income.

Good-bye, sweet girl. I know now you’re running freely, eating all the cheese that you want, living it up. We will meet again.

good start to the day

You know what's awesome? Having baby girl wake up next to me by saying 'da', very softly, instead of screaming her lungs out (teething, anyone?).

of course.

Update – I recently found out the toilets are working just fine here, I even heard it for myself. Just not for me. WTF? There must be some reason auto toilets don’t recognize me. Maybe the beauty of my ass stuns it. Ha.

rustle me up a rocking chair

So on Monday we moved into a brand new, so-called ‘state-of-the-art’ building. It’s nice, no doubt about that. Much nicer than our last building. And the location is much better. Better restaurants, bars (for happy hour of course), parks, etc. It is closer to my house, but not if I factor in dropping off and picking up the monkey girl. It’s about the same with that added in.

I do have a couple of gripes. We need a passcard/code to go anywhere (we have 2 floors of the building and a garage). It works maybe 50% of the time, the rest of the time you’ve got to get creative and find a new way (walking around to the entrance of the garage) or wait for someone to chance by and open the door to let you in. Fun. You need it for the elevator too. I’ve stuck to the stairs. I can’t deal with an elevator that won’t open.

The other 50% of the time it beeps, and acts like it’s working, yet doesn’t open. It’s great. You stand there like a total moron, swiping your card again and again.

The toilets in the bathroom automatically flush. They worked great on Monday and Tuesday, then today seem to have gone haywire. There are three stalls. In one, it will flush while you’re going, then not afterwards. One doesn’t flush at all, you have to manually push the button. I haven’t tried the other one, but probably should, for accuracy of reporting. Frankly, I’m a little frightened. It’s the handicapped stall, so it might suck me in.

Is it just me? Am I getting old? I can’t help but be distrustful of all these electronic gadgets. Even our phones run on a computer program. I haven’t learned that yet (because I missed the *gasp* 2 hour training…that’s another drama-filled tale in and of itself), not because it’s hard, but because no one has given me the code to log in. Ugh.

I think automatically flushing toilets are the worst offenders. How hard can it be? There are all sorts of motion detectors out there. Make it work. I swear, it’s gotten so bad that when I have a good experience with one (god forbid, it flushes, and at the correct time) I’m surprised. Normally it just doesn’t flush. Then I have to lean down and press the button to flush it which really negates the benefit of the auto flush altogether. A few weeks back we had a conference at the Ameristar Casino (gross) and though I chose a different stall each time, the damn things never flushed. Which is odd, since all I heard around me was flushing. I had such a complex…am I that pale that it doesn’t even register me? Do I move too slowly? Too quickly? WTF?

Then when they flush while you’re sitting (or squatting or whatever you do) you inevitably get splashed in the ass. With pee-pee or poo-poo water. Nice. Nothing better.

I’m all for technological advancement, when necessary. But for the love, make it work. Quit installing shit-for-brains, work-50%-of-the-time, splash-you-in-the-ass toilets. I’d so much rather have ones you flush yourself.

please send positive thoughts

For anyone out there reading this (hello?), please pray, or send good thoughts, or whatever you do for a couple I know. They delivered their twin girls at 21 weeks last night. One was born alive and lived for a few minutes, we aren't sure about the other one, but think she was born still. This couple has struggled with miscarriages, so to have this happen on top of everything else is truly devastating.

Please hold them in your hearts. After my scare at 20 weeks, and coming through, this hits so close to home. I've imagined it so many times in my head...to actually have it come true for friends is so, so unbelievable. They will need every bit of their own strength and ours too to get through this.

huh...

So turns out it helps to actually go online and pay bills as opposed to just writing them down in your checkbook. Interesting.

It also helps when it's not Monday morning after getting about 2 hours of sleep total.

March 16, 2008

Our lives were turned upside-down one year ago today. I was 19 1/2 weeks pregnant. Hubby was brewing a batch of coffee stout in the kitchen before dinner, and I decided to take a bubble bath. Upon getting out of the bath I noticed a strange, watery discharge. I wrote it off until it happened again in the bedroom, going completely through my underwear. Gross, and definitely unusual. I called my OB and his office said to go to labor & delivery because it was Sunday and there was no way to tell what was going on over the phone.


We went, expecting to get checked out, maybe an ultrasound (we'd only had one at 9 weeks and only I got to see it), then be sent on our merry way. We were grossly unprepared.


L&D determined that the discharge was amniotic fluid, thus concluding that my bag of waters had broken. pPROM - preterm, premature rupture of membranes. I was confused. Isn't that usually a big gush? Not a few drops. It could be a small break, though. Either way, not good. I was hooked up to a contraction monitor and it detected activity. Contractions. Seemingly alarming ones. I noticed them, but they weren't awful.

The resident told us we'd probably have the baby that night. When water breaks and contractions are happening, it's definitely not good. She prepared us that when a baby is born at this point it won't live. It might take a breath or two, but that's it. She even had an NICU doctor come and talk to us.


They gave us a moment alone. We cried. I don't think the gravity of the situation had even hit me yet at that point. How can a baby be born at 20 weeks? Actually, I think technically anything before 20 weeks is still considered a miscarriage, even if the babe actually takes a few breaths when born. It was incredibly surreal. I don't think I could get past the fact that the baby was completely fine. It was my body failing. Everything was totally fine other than the contractions (which didn't hurt, but were registering on the machine) and the presence of amniotic fluid on my cervix.


We didn't know the gender, but we talked about what we would name the baby. We decided on Lee, which was my maiden name, because it would work for a boy or a girl. We were so innocent. We didn't know anyone who had lost a baby due to premature labor. We barely even knew what that was.


It was a long night. The contractions lasted all night long, some worse than others. I was pumped full of IV fluid as well as water, and didn't sleep well 1. because my body was failing my baby and was going to kill it even though as of now it was perfectly fine and 2. I had to pee every ten minutes. My parents came for a while, then we sent them home.


We had a great nurse. I remember her name to this day. She had a 'good feeling' about us. She'd seen many moms whose water had broken go on to deliver perfectly healthy babies. She pumped me full of water, and made me more comfortable. It meant a lot.


In the morning things were the same, only my contractions had all but stopped. My doc came by, and of course, gave us a grim outlook. A maternal fetal medicine doc came by too and did the same. We had a 10% chance of carrying the baby to term. If we could make it past a week without an infection (commonly happens with broken water) things would look better, but for now it was bad. It was so hard. The baby was totally fine. My contractions had stopped, and there wasn't any more leaking. But still doctor after doctor warned us not to get too comfortable, that our baby would most likely be born and die.


Another resident came in and told us if it were him in this situation he'd choose to end the pregnancy. Of course we couldn't do that at St. John's, but another hospital would do it. The baby, if it made it to viability, would most likely have lung problems, and problems with its legs and arms, just to start. With little fluid there isn't much room to move and grow properly. We were devastated, but ultimately decided of course we couldn't do that. I think he upset us the most. Looking back I'm a bit miffed he came in there and did that to us. We never even had an abnormal amount of fluid.


We had a few visitors. My poor sister, who was 18 weeks pregnant at the time, came by. I felt so bad for her - at that point we both gave up our happy, normal pregnancies, me for obvious reasons, her because all innocence was lost. She knew what could happen, and I'm sure worried about it for a while. She couldn't even speak. She could only hug me with tears running down her face.


We had another ultrasound before being moved to the antepartum floor. It was great again, normal amounts of fluid, babe was fine. We had so many people come by and prepare us. We were told that best case scenario, if we made it past a week, we'd be sent home and I would be on bedrest. Then at 24 weeks, when baby was viable (but still extremely critical), I'd come back to the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy so they could monitor things and give me steroids to help develop the baby's lungs if labor seemed imminent. So many different nurses came by. They helped prepare me for the later hospital stay.


We had to call work, which was hard for me. I had to prepare my bosses that I'd most likely not be back until after the baby was born. They were so great and understanding - I work for a couple of really good guys. I called my close friends too. My best friend in Chicago was so great. She sent me so many care packages while I was home on bedrest, and brought her daughter over to visit. I'm a lucky girl.


We stayed for 4 days, and our scan on the last day was just as good. Baby was totally normal, fluid looked great. Our high-risk specialist was pleased, but still very cautious. We were to go home, take my temperature every few hours, and watch for signs of infection. I was put on moderate bed rest, which ended up being couch rest really. I could get up to shower, make my lunch, and use the bathroom, but other than that I was to take it easy. Luckily I'm very good at being lazy. I offered to work from home, but my bosses wouldn't hear of it. I'm so grateful for disability insurance - if you don't have it, get it. It's so important. I don't know how we would have coped without it.


Those first few weeks were scary. I had a tiny temperature (totally normal fluctuation, but still) a few times and freaked out, of course. A few times I thought that was it, I was at the end. But we kept on trucking. I did so much research on the internet, and found out that vitamins C and E can help strengthen the bag of waters, so I started taking those (after talking to my doc of course). We had an ultrasound every week for a month to make sure the fluid was okay, and every time it was. I think my docs would have released me from bedrest except for a bout of contractions again around 22-23 weeks. I was put on some meds to control them, but really, they lasted the entire pregnancy. I think I spent the last half of my pregnancy timing contractions.

Our families and friends were so wonderful. My mom and dad came once a week to clean, do laundry, and have lunch with me. My sisters came by to visit, and hubby was awesome. He cooked, took care of me and the hound, and never complained once.

I was on moderate bedrest for 3 months. I remember my older sister asking me my goals for the pregnancy. How long would I like her to stay inside? I said 28 weeks. If we made it that far I'd be happy. 28 weeks came and went. Then 32, then 34, and so on. At 34 weeks I was allowed to go back to work part-time, which was nice, if only to take my mind off of things.


She ended up entering the world at just over 39 weeks (after weeks of pre-labor, I swear). Quickly. My water broke for real at 2:30, and she was born at 8:01. The Beezer isn't one to do anything slowly, we've since found out.


It's surreal to look at my gorgeous baby girl and remember what happened. Almost as though it happened in another life. Sometimes I think about that dumb resident who advised us to terminate. What if we had listened to him? I think our doctor would have talked us out of it, especially in light of the fact that she never had low levels of fluid, but still. It's horrifying to think about.


I've read so many stories without our great ending. Babies born too soon, lives changed forever. I honestly can't imagine anything worse, except for losing a baby at term. Now that I know what can happen, and what does happen, it makes everything so much more real. I really had no idea back then, and it's probably best that I didn't. We are so lucky. I know that every time I see her amazing face. I'm so glad my sister didn't have to deal with it too, if I had lost Beezer. How different our lives would be today if she had a healthy baby girl and we didn't. Oh my gosh, it's devastating to think about. I can't think about it too much.


It's funny though. Despite the life-altering glitch, I loved being pregnant. I actually loved sitting my big butt on the couch all day. Maybe it was easier because I knew I was doing it for someone else, not me. Probably not. I'm lazy. And proud of it. Well not so much anymore, babies cure you of that real fast.