wordinista: (Possess those shores with me!)
More info regarding Senior Care of Brevard, the grant they're in the running for, and how you can vote for it IS RIGHT HERE.

GUYS GUYS GUYS!  Senior Care of Brevard is now ranked at #331.  WE NEED MOAR VOTES!! 

And, YES, I am absolutely going to be bugging you FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH, because it's a worthwhile cause.  Dementia sucks, Alzheimer's sucks, and there's so little we can actually do for it. 

Please, please, please -- spread the word, see if you can get other people to vote as well. 



 
wordinista: (Possess those shores with me!)

As nearly everyone on my f-list knows, my grandfather is suffering from Fronto-Temporal Dementia, and is currently in Stage Four of that disease. My mother is my grandfather's caretaker, and during the course of his illness has become good friends with a woman who runs Senior Care of Brevard -- it's not a nursing home, but rather a facility that accepts dementia and Alzheimer's patients, providing a safe place for them to be during the day, if their regular caretaker needs to work, or simply cannot be home with them on that particular day.  (We don't really like to call it a "daycare" facility, but that is essentially the service it provides.)  Senior Care of Brevard is unique in this area because it is the only facility that will accept Stage Four patients, which is also what makes it vital.

Unfortunately, due to Medicare cuts (some very hefty ones at the state level), SCoB is finding itself in a precarious position.  Since Medicare isn't covering this kind of service anymore, less fortunate patients can't take advantage of this facility.  Caregivers -- usually the patient's adult children -- are then in an unenviable position of having to figure out how to go to work while also figuring out how to care for the patient.  (My mother is lucky; she works from home, but caring for my grandfather is a full-time job in itself, and she rarely gets the oppotunity to get out of the house aside from taking Grampa to doctor appointments, or to run errands -- but even then, she has to arrange for someone to sit with him.)

My mother's friend, Linda, who runs Senior Care of Brevard, submitted a proposal for a grant, sponsored by Pepsi.  The proposal was accepted, which means a lot of YAY!  But now comes the difficult part.  And this is the part where I am asking you, friends and friends-of-friends and random people who happen to stumble across this entry, to please help us harness the most-awesome Power of the Intarwebs. 

We need votes.  Whoever gets the most votes wins this $250,000 grant.  This is not an insignificant sum, and would go a long way  to helping a worthwhile facility.

HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

Voting begins promptly on OCTOBER 1, 2010 at MIDNIGHT.

Here is URL you'll need.  GO HERE: http://www.refresheverything.com/

·      The screen is blue and divided into sections. Click on the right side where it says: "Browse Ideas and Vote"

·      Scroll to the bottom of the page; on the bottom left it says: "Sign in/Join 'Refresh Everything.'"

·      The first time voting, click on "Join 'Refresh Everything'" because you'll need to register in order to vote.

·      You'll have to create a username and password, but after the initial registration, you'll just have to click on "Sign in" at the bottom of the page each time you want to vote. 

And here's the best part:

·      You can vote EVERY DAY until midnight October 31, 2010!!!!!

BUT:

·      You are only allowed ONE vote per day for our cause.  The one who gets the MOST votes WINS.

The most important thing to remember is the initial 48 hours of voting is the MOST CRUCIAL because it establishes rank.  The numbers do not go UP, they go DOWN.  So, the lower the number, the better!  We're trying to get into FIRST PLACE here!

NOW:  How to FIND SCoB to vote for it!  (Because you know you really want to.  You really, really want to.)

Once you enter the site, there should be buttons across the top of the page designating areas where various people and organizations ahve submitted their work.  

SENIOR CARE OF BREVARD IS LOCATED UNDER "HEALTH."  (All "Health" related entries are in red.)  Click that red button!

Under that, amounts are listed:  $5000; $25,000; $50,000; and $250,000.  CLICK ON $250,000.

THEN LOOK FOR THE PROJECT TITLE:  "PROVIDE A SPONSORSHIP PROGRAM FOR THE INDIGENT AND POOR PATIENTS" (As of 10/1, the ranking was somewhere around  245)

If you click on that project title, you'll be linked to a short synopsis all about Senior Care of Brevard.

THERE IS A BUTTON THAT SAYS, "VOTE FOR THIS IDEA."  That is when you VOTE FOR THAT IDEA!

Please, guys -- vote.  Link to this page, if you like!  Pimp this out however you want.  Twitter, Facebook, EVEN SANDWICH-BOARD SIGNS WOULD BE GREAT.  But please, spread the word!

If SCoB wins this grant, they'll be able to provide dementia and Alzheimer's patients -- who would not otherwise be able to afford it -- a safe place to go during the day, and providing their caregivers with peace of mind.



 


wordinista: (The things I put up with...)
Oh, balls.

I am NOT getting early migraine hints twenty minutes before the cable guy is set to arrive.

THIS IS NOT ON, BODY.  DO YOU HEAR ME? I REPEAT: THIS IS NOT ON.

Dammit.

eta: three tylenol and some very hot, very strong keemun MIGHT HAVE KNOCKED IT BACK. MAYBE.  godihopeso.
wordinista: (sad bunneh)
I just totally pulled a "GET OFF MY DAMN LAWN."

About six or eight neighborhood kids were playing on and around the dock in our backyard.  Lots of screaming, lots of generally being little asshats. 

The dogs? Going ballistic.

Me?  TIRED OF THE DOGS OF THE DOGS GOING BALLISTIC.  So I peeked out back and saw the above scene.

Me: "OH, HELL NO."

So I went out back.  "Excuse me!  Is this yours? Any of it?"

"....no."

"Then what are you doing? GO PLAY IN YOUR OWN  YARD."

Then one girl pipes up with, "Well, my uncle said..."

"I. Don't. Care.  Did he ask me?  No."



I totally "get off my damned lawn"d them.
wordinista: (Pisces after sex)

I just realized that in the course of one week, someone I know has gotten engaged, someone else has gotten married, and someone else has announced a pregnancy.

For some reason, this amuses me muchly. ;)

The pregnant!someone is my baby cousin, whose wedding I went to last year.  She's six years my junior and now my mother is GIVING ME LOOKSHelp!

Mom: "They're [my aunt and uncle] going to be grandparents."
Me:  "And yet, I'm still happy having dogs."
Mom:  *glare*
Me:  "You think Darwin isn't completely superior to a crying infant?  I'm going to tell him you think that, and he's going to be so hurt."

And the moment in which I reveal my true catty nature:

Mom: [Telling Grampa he's going to be a great-grandfather.]  Erica's having a baby! You're going to be a great-grandfather!
Me:  ...Again.
Mom:  ....Again.
Me:  Except this time it's the grand-daughter that's actually MARRIED doing it.
George: *sporfle*


Yeah, I have two cousins who... have difficulties making even remotely intelligent choices. They happen to be sisters.  Sigh.

wordinista: (Bakingfetish)

I managed to create a recipe for a diabetes-friendly chicken pot-pie.  It's not a pie, exactly -- it's more of a casserole, I think (lack of a crust, but with just enough penne to add some carbs and starchy yumminess).  But it's got that distinct comfort-food taste, and even though it's a little work-intensive, it is worth every minute of preparation.

I also used my herbs de Provence, and that just makes me feel culinarily snooty.

OMG YUM.

Also?  ALSO.  I experimented a little bit with a chocolate muffin recipe I have -- over the holidays, I used the batter to make a chocolate mint-chip loaf, which went over very well.  This time, I made the loaf with white wheat flour, and added a bit of fiori di sicilia flavoring, which has a bit of a citrusy taste.  So I basically have something that tastes a whole lot like those dark chocolate oranges, and I am likewise happy.  Granted, it isn't really what you'd call "diabetes-friendly," but George has found that he can have a small slice without throwing his numbers out of whack. 

IN FACT, he had an excellent check-up last week, and his doc was pretty damned impressed with how much progress he's making since his diagnosis.  (He lost weight over the holidays.  LOST WEIGHT.  OVER THE HOLIDAYS.  I told him that's grounds for divorce right there.)

It's been a good day. ^_^
wordinista: (Friendships are like money)
Y'know, on the one hand, I love Facebook, because I can keep tabs on all my wee little baby cousins (who are... in high school or uni or married, but they are still my wee little baby cousins and always will be). And I love that I've gotten back in touch with friends from grad school and undergrad and high school and middle school and, yes, even elementary school.

On the other hand, it's so disappointing when you discover that someone who was your best friend in second grade turned into a pretentious douchenozzle somewhere along the way. And the laid-back, cool, fun guy in choir turned into a hate-filled, angry, self-righteous jerkoff. The negativity brings me down too much, so I mostly just choose to hide their posts.

And then there was the moment of complete shock when I discovered my best bud from Madrigal Ensemble has three kids, OMG. And my BFF from high school... also has three kids (the oldest one was Sweeney Todd for Halloween and his costume was awesome!). So many of my friends have decided to spawn. It's shocking and a little scary.

I think I'll stick with dogs for now, kthx.
wordinista: (Tea! Gimme gimme!)
My day summed up in ten points:

#1: My body hates me and insists upon waking me up at FIVE AM.

#2: Peet's Coffee & Tea have fantabulous customer service. I am blown away by the consistently awesome experiences I've had with them.

#3: Bank of America's customer service is as crappy as Peet's is wonderful.

#4: [livejournal.com profile] hecallaghan rocks my socks.

#5: HOLY CRAP I'M WRITING AGAIN.

#6: I really, really hate it when people put words in my mouth. It's one thing when we're dealing with the spoken word, and someone might not remember exactly what I might have said. It's another thing entirely when those words are TYPED OUT. Hello, jackass, I DIDN'T EFFING SAY THAT.

#7: It's not that I don't want to go to agility class tonight, it's that I'm praying for rain so I can stay in and write. It's also that I haven't been practicing weave poles religiously, and Darwin has sort of stalled, and I stripped one of the screws in my weave-pole set, so I can't adjust for this, and it's all very annoying right now.

#8: I will have a freshly painted kitchen (and NEW COUNTERTOP, YESSSS) in time for Thanksgiving.

#9: I may have to name my first-born after [livejournal.com profile] somnambulicious for turning me onto the King Arthur Baker's Companion. Their date-nut bread makes my mouth happy.

#10: I envy my dogs' ability to sleep anywhere, at any time.
wordinista: (What an explanation it would be...)
I could have gone my WHOLE LIFE without having water shot at me by the toilet I was attempting to fix.


...

MY WHOLE LIFE.

...

I need to go wash up. Right now.


***

ETA: Figured I should explain how I got into this mess. And I can do that now that I've had a nice little wash-up.

Basically, the toilet wasn't flushing correctly. Knowing that one cause of this can be a too-low water level in the tank, I lifted the lid off the tank and looked on in.

TANK: [water line is low]

BUNNEH: Ah-ha! It is as I hypothesized! Now, how to fix...

TANK PUMP: [has WEE LITTLE TUBE attached]

WEE LITTLE TUBE: [appears loose]

BUNNEH: Hmm, that appears to be the culprit. [BUNNEH proceeds to adjust WEE LITTLE TUBE].

WEE LITTLE TUBE: [is adjusted]

BUNNEH: [attempts a test flush]

TOILET: [flushes!]

WEE LITTLE TUBE: [pops off!]

WATER: [shoots everywhere!]

BUNNEH: [is soaked!]

WATER: [appears not to be slowing down, even as TANK is reaching the full mark. also, soaking the floor, walls, and fixtures. because, hey, why not?]

BUNNEH: Shit! Shit! Shit! [runs for towels! tries to shove WEE LITTLE TUBE back in place, to no avail. finally, turns off main water valve]

WATER: [stops!]

BUNNEH: [celebrates! then adjusts WEE LITTLE TUBE again, making sure that sucker's on nice and tight.]

WEE LITTLE TUBE: [is on, nice and tight.]

BUNNEH: [attempts another test flush. upon discovering herself victorious, goes and changes her shirt omg.]


And that is my first, last, and only foray into the wild world of plumbing.
wordinista: (Rain-lit window)

Okay, so.  After this post, I'm going to start f-locking things talking about Gramps because I realize that not EVERYONE is going to want to read about it. 

Getting old sucks. :( )
wordinista: (Default)

It's grey and overcast outside this morning, and I would LOVE for today to be a drizzly rainy one.  Alas, there's a better chance of all of this overcast-ness burning off in an hour.  Ah well.  Still keeping fingers crossed.

Mom has been trying to make abundantly clear to the rest of her sibs that Grampa's condition IS YES THAT SERIOUS and if they would like to visit their father while he is even remotely in his right mind, then they should get their asses down here ASAP.  As in, within the next six months.  My Uncle Tony and Aunt Nancy (also my godparents and made quite completely of awesome) are coming down this month, so that's good.

Mom's also been talking about Gramps getting more exercise -- to clarify, "exercise" for him would amount to taking a walk over here (we're next-door) so Mom can show him what we've done with our back patio area, or to show him how Darwin runs the weave poles.  Sunday, Mom drove him down to the agility course (at my request) so he could see what I've been doing for the past two years.  These little outings wear him out, and after the five minute drive to the course, the ten minutes they were here, and the five minute drive home (no exaggeration -- the course IS that close to the house), he went down for a nap.  And he'd just woken up from a nap when Mom took him down to the course, so his stamina is pretty much nonexistent right now.

I was really glad he came down to see, too, because this is something I've been working at and am proud of, and I don't know if we'll ever make it to any trials, and I don't know what kind of shape Gramps will be in if and when we do make it to a trial.  But he came, and was duly impressed. :)   They had just caught an agility competition on TV a few days before, and Mom was like, "That's what Kara and Darwin do!"  So it was kind of fresh in his mind when Mom brought him to the course.   And Darwin did really well!  --Well, "really well" despite the part where he got a wild hair and decided that the obstacles I was directing him to were BORING and he'd have much more fun if he made up his own course as he went along. And when he does that, he adopts this really goofy run that's like a gallopy-prance, and he tongue is lolling out of his mouth like he's laughing at me.  "CAN'T CATCH MEEEE!"

(Ah, yep. I knew it.  The clouds are all gone now.)

Well, I've got some date-nut bread to make, and a pumpkin-gingerbread recipe I want to try, and two puppies who still need to be walked, SO I'm off to attempt something resembling productivity!

OH EM GEE: this is hilarious and yet AWESOME.    Between this store and the King Arthur Baking Catalog, I am in online shopping heaven.
wordinista: (I shall conquer this)

It looks like my Wednesday is going to start out with a migraine. AWESOME.  I am taking measures to cut it off before it progresses, but that hardly ever works so mostly I'm sitting here until I finish my tea.

Mom took Gramps to the neurologist yesterday, and the news is... not so good.  His MRI showed significant shrinkage in the frontal lobes since his last MRI, which was a year ago August.  The neurologist has since diagnosed him with mid-stage fronto-temporal dementia, which, apparently, is the worst kind of dementia to be diagnosed with.  It doesn't affect memory quite as much as other types of dementia, but rather affecting personality and behavior.  It's progressive, and most patients, after initial diagnosis, have about a 2 year life expectancy.  The neurologist thinks he's had this since last August.  Mom is... understandably upset.  I don't think I've really let it sink in yet.  I sort of don't want to.

I almost didn't go to agility last night, because this news had left us... kind of out of sorts, but in the end I went and had a really good time.  I talked with my agility instructor, Vickie, a breast cancer survivor (who, this time last year, was bald).  She gave me a hug and talked a bit.  "Don't feel guilty for doing the things you like to do," she said.  I told her it wasn't so much guilt that made me almost skip class, but my concern that my head wouldn't be in the game, so to speak.   But... the funny thing is, I've sort of reached a point with agility where when I'm on the course and running obstacles with Darwin, I almost go to a very zen place.  (Well, this happens when we're running WELL. Not when I'm screwing up and giving miscues.)  And even though last night I was a little distracted, and definitely screwed up and gave miscues, I still left class feeling very centered.

In other news, I would like very much to rant about this Roman Polanski BS until the cows come home, because I am thoroughly OUTRAGED at how many people seem to have turned into rape apologists overnight, and am doubly outraged at the media for using what I personally believe is misleading language regarding his crime.  "Having sex with a teenager/minor" conjures a completely different picture than and is NOT the same thing as "drugging and anally raping an adolescent."  And what the shit, do Hollywood A-listers actually believe they are above the law?  HE DRUGGED AND SODOMIZED A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD, GUYS.  LIVING THE HIGH LIFE SKIPPING AROUND EUROPE FOR THIRTY ONE YEARS DOES NOT CONSTITUTE "PUNISHMENT."  HE HAS NOT PAID ANY SORT OF DEBT TO SOCIETY.  COME ON, PEOPLE.  HE IS NOT SOME SORT OF TRAGIC HERO.  HE IS A RAPIST.  SAY IT WITH ME NOW: RAY-PIST.

So, hopefully someone on my f-list will compose a lengthy and vitriolic rant about the subject, because that's about all I can muster -- this headache is looking like I'm going to be out of commission for the rest of the morning.

wordinista: (Loev)
1.  Agility class = awesome.

2.  Thundery, rainy mornings with a forecast for a thundery, rainy day = awesome.

3.  Feeling the writing bug making a return-trip after a too-long absence = awesome.

4.  Morning cuppa of perfectly brewed, deliciously strong English Breakfast tea = awesome.



So far, it's a good day.  I woke up to thunder and rain (and Sydney seems finally to be over her thunder phobia), and while it's not actively raining out NOW, it's dreary and overcast and tonight's class was cancelled, so I honestly have NO WHERE TO BE today.

Last night's class was fantastic -- it's like after a year and a half of lessons and practice and a lot of me being completely unconfident and uncoordinated, something has finally clicked in my head.  I fret less about the placement of my body and the timing of my commands.  Yes, I still screw up, but I no longer get frustrated and furious with myself for screwing up.  (One day, during a private lesson, I was getting really pissed at myself for not getting this stupid tiny detail right, and Darwin fed off of that frustration, eventually shutting down and and basically avoiding me completely.  THAT was a serious wakeup call for me, let me tell you.)  It's a fairly mixed class, with some dogs more advanced than others, and for the first time, I'm actually one of the more advanced students.  And after doing private lessons for so long, I didn't really have any way to gauge my own improvement, but being back in a class environment has really shown me that, yes, I HAVE improved, and that was really kind of an amazing moment.

One woman in the class has done trials before, but has a very young dog, so while SHE knows what she's doing, her dog is very exuberant, but not very disciplined (she's a lab -- very happy-go-lucky and wants to be BFFs with every dog in the class).  So she knows what she's doing, and has been offering me a lot of helpful tips.  I think she was surprised when she found out I wasn't interested in formal competition, because she said to me:   "You have a fast dog and long legs!  You could WIN!"  I laughed -- I'd never heard it put quite that way before.  I'd never given much thought to competition, but we'll see.  There are a lot of expenses when you get into competition, so I don't know.  (Which reminds me, I have the Incredible Dog Challenge saved on the DVR...)

Sydney's had some tummy issues lately, so she went to see the vet on Monday and it turns out she has a touch of bacterial colitis.  She's on meds and seems to be doing better (no upset tummies is a good thing!) -- I told her that this is what she gets for litterbox diving.  (Sigh.  Why must dogs be so cute and wonderful and yet so gross?)
wordinista: (No such thing as too many books)
In yet another episode of "Hi, I Still Don't Know What I Want To Be When I Grow Up," I'm wondering if anyone out there knows anything about Applied Behavior Analysis.  I've been doing some research and I'm in the "Ooh, this looks really interesting -- MUST LEARN MORE!" phase, but the internet hasn't been as helpful as I'd like.

So... anyone?  Input?  Thoughts?  Opinions?
wordinista: (The U)
I LIIIIVE.

I was also out of town last week on --wait for it-- VACATION.  OMG!  Basically Mom was teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown, and was talking about getting away for a few days.  I mentioned Amelia Island and she jumped on it, placed a rental deposit on an oceanfront cottage and then was like, "Um. I didn't want to go alone, so I figured you and George would come too."  My mother. Socute.

So, yes, we went and made it a family thing.  Mom had ample relaxation time, and she came back totally refreshed (she really needed the break too, gawd).  My uncle (who is normally an enormous douchebag) was going to be in town from CA anyway and he said he'd stay with Gramps.  (Which sounds great on paper, but... well, a douchebag can't change its spots... or something.  We came back to find out that the idiot didn't want Mom's dogs sleeping in the same bed as him, so he. LOCKED. THEM. IN. THE. GARAGE. OVERNIGHT. GRAR.)

But anyway, we were gone from 8/27-8/31 and I have scads of pictures that I will upload at some point.

Oh, and during the trip I chipped a tooth.  Bodyboarding.  Which I haven't done in upwards of ten years -- the bodyboarding, not the tooth-chipping.  It's not really visible and it doesn't hurt, so while I have every intention of seeing a dentist, it's not a huge, screaming priority.  Basically a rogue wave took my by surprise and my jaws clamped together really hard with the force.  But I'm okay and I'll get it looked at soon.

Oh, and this past Thursday I broke my baby toe.  While shopping.  (In the Shopping Cart vs. Piggy Toe Showdown, the cart won.)  I think I get extra irony points for having been SHOE SHOPPING at the time.  Aaaand I will probably lose the nail, which kind of terrifies me, because I've never lost a toenail before.  Sigh.

In much more fun news, I started trying to teach the dogs that neato "balance the treat on your nose" trick today.  They both got it once (out of probably ten tries), but it was all fun anyway.  Sydney did better than I expected -- once she stopped trying to give me her paw every time I tried to set the treat on her nose. 

Also?  OMG MIAMI BEAT FSU MONDAY.  FOR THE FIRST TIME IN. LIKE. THREE YEARS?  AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!  GO CANES!!!!!!
wordinista: (Yuki: ...?)
For the past three weeks, not only have I been walking the doggies over one of the local causeways that link the mainland to the barrier islands (it's about a 2 mile walk w/ a significant incline), but in the afternoons Tora and I have been walking over a different causeway (a couple of miles north of the other one).  This bridge is a little over 2 miles and has a more significant (read: hateful, evil) incline.

So!  Three days a week I'm walking about four miles a day.  Go me!  And I assume someday I will stop being completely exhausted all the time.  Today is not that day.

However, never let it be said that our workout regimen is without excitement.  Yesterday, we went over the causeway, like we do, and on the return trip we noticed that there's a walkway that actually runs under the bridge.  So we, being the inquisitive-type people we are, took a walk along this walkway.  Under the bridge.

It was quite obviously a hotspot for fishing types, given all the... fish guts (oh, the aroma), and there were empty beer bottles and discarded bits of fishing line, and the whole "walking under the bridge" thing seemed like a much better idea when I hadn't considered the olfactory aspect of it.  Needless to say: gross.

Anyway, we're walking and we're walking and-- okay, so you've got this cement walkway that runs under the bridge (about halfway out, leaving enough room for boats to pass under the bridge).  And there are these enormous cement supports that are... yes, supporting the bridge.  These supports (which, to reiterate, were HUGE) have four sides to them, and about ten feet above the water line, the support widens about five feet on all four sides, creating a sort of ledge. 

And as we're walking, I saw a man standing on this ledge, fishing.  He... also appeared to be talking to himself, and there was what looked like a sleeping bag rolled up next to him.  And I felt that pang of "Aw, man" you feel in a situation like that.  I assume everyone knows the little twinge.  Then, as we passed, I glanced over my shoulder and saw that it wasn't a sleeping bag at all, but a woman curled up on her side, sleeping, and... yeah.  Another pang.  Weirdly, I almost felt as if I was... intruding?

And then, out of nowhere, Tora whacks my arm and says in a very low, urgent voice: "Turn around and walk."

I, being reasonably quick on the uptake, did just that.

"Keep walking," he said, also quietly.  "Don't look.  Just keep walking."

So as I'm walking -- quickly, I might add, to keep up with George (who ALWAYS complains to me about my death-march pace and long-legged strides) -- I'm wondering what his damage is.  As unfortunate as it is, it wouldn't be the first time we've seen a homeless person, and it's really not necessary for him to wig out like that.

"Did you see that?" he asked me, when we were out of earshot.

"Yeah, I think they were homeless."

Insert long pause wherein my darling husband gives me a look that... is not easily articulated (but I like to refer to it as his "Oh my god, you're supposed to be smart" look).  "He had a gun, Kara."

".......A gun?"

"In the waistband of his pants."

Insert a longer pause wherein I walk faster.

Evidently he hadn't been talking to himself, as I'd thought, but had instead been talking on a cell phone.

...

So... yeah.  I still don't even know what to make of any of that, but let it be said there is NEVER A DULL MOMENT with us.

wordinista: (Damn stupid weather)

Dear Sydney,

Please do not decide that, yes, you actually really do have to potty AFTER we've come in from outside.  We were out there walking around for a good 20 minutes and you weren't remotely interested in relieving yourself then.  Pacing arond the house and panting does not make me sympathetic to your plight.

Love and Kisses,
Mamadog

***

Dear Keys,

Ha ha, the joke's over.  Time to come out of hiding.  Really.  Show yourselves, pronto.

No love,
Bunneh

***

Dear Florida,

Humidity is so five minutes ago.  Autumn is the new black.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CHANGE YOUR SEASONS.  I'M DYING HERE.

NO LOVE,
Sweatybunneh

***

Dear F-List,

I have a sympathy card here, which I will need to sign and send out sometime today.  Any suggestions on what an appropriate message might be what I could include inside?  (It's for my aunt in-law -- her father passed away last week.)  Everything I'm coming up with feels incredibly trite and cheesy.

Love and Kisses,
Bunneh

***

Dear Keys,

NO, REALLY.  SHOW YOURSELVES, YOU JINGLY LITTLE BITCHWAFFLES.  I AM TIRED OF LOOKING FOR YOU. 

SCREW OFF,
Bunneh
wordinista: (Kyou Fortitude)
I've actually been meaning to type this out for days now, but quite literally have not had time to sit down, gather my thoughts, and write anything out. Things have been busy lately -- Gramps is doing better, thank goodness, and the things keeping me busy have been not all bad, so that's good.

Sometime last week, I can't quite remember when (and it's not terribly important anyway), Tora was watching the news (MSNBC, iirc). I was just getting out of the shower when I heard a woman speaking on the importance of universal healthcare, and cited, as support for her argument, the "epidemic of diabetes in this country -- diabetes, a preventable disease". Her point was, basically, that universal healthcare was the magic key to solving this diabetes epidemic.

Simply put: I disagree. )
wordinista: (Loev)
Okay, so it's been a busy week -- my cousin and his family (who I haven't seen in two years) is down for a visit, and last week was my and Tora's 3rd wedding anniversary (THANK YOU FOR THE WELL-WISHES!!!1!).   So the extent of my involvement with all things internet-related has been ... well, Twitter, pretty much.  That's it.

I just spent an hour catching up on people's LJ posts.  YIKES.

Anniversary was pretty geektastic and awesome -- we went to see TF2, then went for sushi at this fantastic little Thai place.  Then we were off to GameStop, where I got George the [Prototype] game (WHICH DOES NOT RUN ON OUR 360 AND BRINGS UP THE RROD, WTF), and then we were off to Barnes & Noble (I got two Kelley Armstrong paperbacks) and the comic book store (got caught up on my BtVS S8 TPBs [kudos to anyone who understood any of that]).

George went back to work yesterday (he was supposed to have all of last week off, but worked Sat/Sun and was on call Mon/Tues, so he took an extra day).  Yesterday there was a meeting to discuss the mistakes made during the past year, and what to do about them, and how to have a more successful upcoming year.

Sadly, during a meeting lasting from 10 AM to 4:30 PM, THERE WERE STILL THINGS THAT DIDN'T GET TOUCHED ON.  Sigh.

Afterward, everyone was all :D!!!  and optimistic and chipper about the meeting, and how this year is going to be different, and so on and so forth.  Except George, who was sitting at his desk, watching R&C pat each other on the back.  When someone asked, "So how do you feel about things, George?"  He was like, "...Well, I guess we'll just have to see how things play out."  Because he has absolutely no faith in R&C when it comes to leadership issues.  (And, WTF, Charity is now an "Operatons Manager"?  Um, what?  WHAT?)

Have had fun with cousin and his family in the meantime, and have been spoiling them with baked goods because I can.

Gramps went in for surgery yesterday to remove the tumors.  The doc says it went well.  I'm sure he'll agree when he's not in pain and miserable.



...Anyone care to tell me what happened in the RPS wank that I kept seeing mentioned in various folks' journals?  Inquiring minds want to know.  All I've been able to ascertain is that someone was a douchebag and participated in behavior that was douchey.  Which.  Narrows it down not at all, this being the internet and all, and RPS being a haven for douchery.
wordinista: (confident ignorance)
It's kind of dawning on me that I've been extremely incommunicado for the past few weeks. Like, extremely.

Long story short -- everything's fine, but between doctor appointments, working on my Staffing Management take-home exam, birthday, and working on my Staffing paper/presentation, and then basic, everyday obligations I found myself in the rare situation where I kind of... did not realize I had dropped off the face of the earth so completely.

Birthday was wonderful -- we did not go to The Yellow Dog Cafe, as we have the past few years. For some unknown reason I was less enthused about it this year, so George made me dinner instead, and we spent Saturday together just doing goofy couple-y things, and Sunday Mom made a phenomenal birthday dinner (filet mignon with a green peppercorn sauce, oh my GOD SO GOOD), and somewhere in there was an ice cream cake from Ben & Jerry's. Mom surprised me with The King Arthur's Baker's Companion, which made me VERY happy (I was shocked she even remembered I wanted it), and I've already tried out a few recipes (zucchini lemon muffins are to die for).

The sole blemish on the weekend was our experience going to see Coraline.  For a while it looked like we were going to have the entire theater to ourselves when -- FIFTEEN MINUTES INTO THE MOVIE (not the previews, the movie), a family of six came in: two adults, three children who appeared to be under the age of six, and one infant.

And sat right behind us.  In an otherwise empty theater.  RIGHT. BEHIND. US.

And then proceeded to talk.  In conversational tones.  And then the children proceeded to whine about godknows what.  And then the infant started to fuss.  And then the jackoffasaurus sitting behind George started to kick his seat.  Oh, and about five minutes after this lot came in, another family with small children came into the theater, and sat further towards the back.

After about twenty minutes of incomprehensible rudeness and having turned around to give the adults my best "Are you fucking kidding me?" glare, I said "Fuck this" (possibly audibly; I cannot remember -- THAT'S HOW ENRAGED I WAS), I got up and nearly walked out, then decided to switch seats instead.  (George, I think, was disappointed that I didn't make a beeline for the door; that's how fed up he was.)  So I headed up towards the back, basically placing us closer to the OTHER family.

Dude, seriously -- who screws around with a celophane wrapper for two solid minutes?  ARGH.  These children were marginally better behaved, but that's not really saying much. (And having gone to the movies with R&C and their three munchkins, I am perfectly aware of the fact that it IS possible to teach children how not to behave like complete animals at the movies.)  

At some point during all of this, the cockbites we moved AWAY from apparently had not turned off their cell phone, either.

Usually I'm one of those people who WILL say something in a movie theater.  I WILL shush someone who is being a complete moron.  I WILL turn around and let the person who is kicking my seat know that I do not appreciate their percussion solo vibrating against my tailbone.  However, I did not speak up this time -- and I think I know why:  I try to make it a point not to swear like a sailor in front of small children, and I was so completely furious that if I opened my mouth, the tirade would not end until I had insulted someone's parentage in language decorated vibrantly with as many creative invectives as I am capable of conceiving.

So, yes.  I finally saw Coraline.  No, I cannot say that I particularly enjoyed the experience.  Not for lack of trying, mind.

OH.  OH OH OH.  And when the lights went up?  And everyone left?  We took a look behind us at where the other family had been sitting?  OH MY SWEET MONKEY JEBUS, THE MESS THEY LEFT BEHIND WAS A PILE OF EPIC FAIL.  A pile of juice boxes on the floor, wrappers, spilled popcorn, cups, GOD IT WAS FOUL.  There was a trail of popcorn down the stairs.  It defied words.  Honestly. 


So, other than THAT, it was a lovely birthday. 

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wordinista

April 2011

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