This is a little late but the title still applies.
It's been nine months since I fell. Nine months. In some ways, it seems like it's been a minute and in others, I'm incredulous that this wildly boring adventure isn't over yet.
I've finished physical therapy now. My therapist summed it up as "I think we're just torturing you now and while I enjoy that, it's time to stop." Now you understand why I liked her so much.
I don't have a limp because I Pay Attention. Kevin says that my walk has changed, especially when I'm tired or sore. Then he calls me an old woman. So caring and gentle, this husband of mine.
I am still in sneakers mostly. I've banished a few pairs of socks. I don't go into PTSD tremors when I see track pants anymore. So, progress.
I still can't jog or run, not that was in the realm of possibility before but the mere thought of it makes me cringe and want to sit down.
I am told not to worry about much of anything until at least the first year anniversary and even six months after that so: October. (I nearly wrote "2013" because I'm still in 2012 because I'm still living it because I missed most of it)
(Also: I decided not to change the grammar nightmare of that sentence because it pleased me in its absurdity.)
I am still not working full time and I've gotten over that. It's gonna be what it's gonna be and worrying about it is not going to change it.
So that's what is happening here. What is happening where you are?
30 January 2013
23 January 2013
Don't Touch That Dial
I kind of love talk shows. I think it is because I grew up in the age of the talk show. Dinah Shore, Merv Griffin, and Mike....I've forgotten his name now...were all on when I got home from school.
Then the shows grew into Phil Donahue and Oprah Winfrey (back in the day when she had a last name) and Ricki Lake.
Now I watch The Talk and Anderson Cooper faithfully every day. I used to watch Ellen but I tired of the gimmicky comedy element of it and the fact that there were ten guests in twenty minutes. I can appreciate her but she's just not my preference. I also will record other shows if there is a guest that I really enjoy, including late night shows.
I do have the habit of fast forwarding through guests I don't know or particularly care for though. Sometimes I regret it when I read in the entertainment news that "OMG YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT THEY SAID." But mostly, I just have other ways to spend my time (a.k.a. other shows to watch)
Tonight I am exhausted. I've been trying to work full-time and right now it feels like there have been back-to-back full moons at work. (those of you who work in social services, first responders, or schools understand what I just said)
So I actually did not have the energy to walk the six feet to the remote while making dinner to change the show when Joan Collins came on The Talk. I am not a Dynasty fan and I'm not a fan of her books so I was not interested in her at all.
But then she told a great story about doing her own stunts and something that Gene Kelly told her.
I was happy that I hadn't fast-forwarded past her interview. It was a great story (to me) and I was glad that I heard it.
I guess the lesson learned is to stop being in such a hurry and to stop being dismissive of talk show guests that I am not familiar with or fond of because something might happen during that interview to change that.
Yes, I realize the entire reason for talk shows is that last sentence. It's been a long day.
Then the shows grew into Phil Donahue and Oprah Winfrey (back in the day when she had a last name) and Ricki Lake.
*I swear I'm not a 75 year old grandmother with ten cats.*
Now I watch The Talk and Anderson Cooper faithfully every day. I used to watch Ellen but I tired of the gimmicky comedy element of it and the fact that there were ten guests in twenty minutes. I can appreciate her but she's just not my preference. I also will record other shows if there is a guest that I really enjoy, including late night shows.
I do have the habit of fast forwarding through guests I don't know or particularly care for though. Sometimes I regret it when I read in the entertainment news that "OMG YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT THEY SAID." But mostly, I just have other ways to spend my time (a.k.a. other shows to watch)
Tonight I am exhausted. I've been trying to work full-time and right now it feels like there have been back-to-back full moons at work. (those of you who work in social services, first responders, or schools understand what I just said)
So I actually did not have the energy to walk the six feet to the remote while making dinner to change the show when Joan Collins came on The Talk. I am not a Dynasty fan and I'm not a fan of her books so I was not interested in her at all.
But then she told a great story about doing her own stunts and something that Gene Kelly told her.
AGAIN: I swear I'm not seventy-five years old and own ten cats.
I was happy that I hadn't fast-forwarded past her interview. It was a great story (to me) and I was glad that I heard it.
I guess the lesson learned is to stop being in such a hurry and to stop being dismissive of talk show guests that I am not familiar with or fond of because something might happen during that interview to change that.
Yes, I realize the entire reason for talk shows is that last sentence. It's been a long day.
21 January 2013
A Ghost Child
There are few moments in my childhood that were not affected by my dad's drinking. As an adult, I believe I am just now starting to understand the long term effects of his drinking on my life, and on his.
Certainly I can come up with some happy moments. Unfortunately they are almost all followed by something that tempered the "happy" right out of them.
There is not a family celebration, vacation, or regular family moment that wasn't accompanied with a drink, a word, glance, or body language that could and did ruin everything.
But he didn't have a problem. He had a lifestyle, he "enjoyed" it. It was how he chose to live his life, right up until the end. Unfortunately for everyone else, we were forced to live that lifestyle as well.
The lifestyle for us was a little different though. It was a lifestyle of being quiet, to not draw attention, of being able to predict someone by the way that they walked, talked, stood, or drove. It was the lifestyle of expecting to be disappointed by people. It was the lifestyle of one day at a time. Ironically not like AA intends but as a "There's one more day without an outburst. There's one more day until I grow up and get out of here."
While my dad was dying, he said I was always quiet as a child. I don't think he understood that he was perhaps the cause of my quietness. Sure, it's part of my personality to be circumspect but it's kind of a the chicken and the egg thing.
He told the story of how I used to come into his shop, a silent little elfin appearing kind of kid. (tiny, glasses, golden haired, often mismatched clothes) I would sweep or straighten up then leave, often without a word.
I vaguely remember that. I don't remember when I stopped or why but I can guess. But that's how he remembered me as a child. A quiet little ghost.
I think that is who I was. A ghost child. Someone who was always surprised when someone actually saw me. Someone who just tried to fade into the background and not be noticed. Someone who lived their life as quietly as possible and tried to just get on to the next part of it.
All because someone lived a lifestyle. Of drinking.
Certainly I can come up with some happy moments. Unfortunately they are almost all followed by something that tempered the "happy" right out of them.
There is not a family celebration, vacation, or regular family moment that wasn't accompanied with a drink, a word, glance, or body language that could and did ruin everything.
But he didn't have a problem. He had a lifestyle, he "enjoyed" it. It was how he chose to live his life, right up until the end. Unfortunately for everyone else, we were forced to live that lifestyle as well.
The lifestyle for us was a little different though. It was a lifestyle of being quiet, to not draw attention, of being able to predict someone by the way that they walked, talked, stood, or drove. It was the lifestyle of expecting to be disappointed by people. It was the lifestyle of one day at a time. Ironically not like AA intends but as a "There's one more day without an outburst. There's one more day until I grow up and get out of here."
While my dad was dying, he said I was always quiet as a child. I don't think he understood that he was perhaps the cause of my quietness. Sure, it's part of my personality to be circumspect but it's kind of a the chicken and the egg thing.
He told the story of how I used to come into his shop, a silent little elfin appearing kind of kid. (tiny, glasses, golden haired, often mismatched clothes) I would sweep or straighten up then leave, often without a word.
I vaguely remember that. I don't remember when I stopped or why but I can guess. But that's how he remembered me as a child. A quiet little ghost.
I think that is who I was. A ghost child. Someone who was always surprised when someone actually saw me. Someone who just tried to fade into the background and not be noticed. Someone who lived their life as quietly as possible and tried to just get on to the next part of it.
All because someone lived a lifestyle. Of drinking.
20 January 2013
News & Notes
It's cold here. Newsflash: it's also winter. But it's been in the high twenties here for awhile. We are nearing perma-frost in the yard.
We had the strangest thing happen last weekend. Massive bird death. The little chickadee (we think they were) birds were landing on the road then only about half of them would fly back up. All said and done, within about a two mile length of road, we guess about a hundred birds died. It was hitchcockian, really.
Our guess is that they must have gotten into something: bad water, old berries, or something man-made. We don't think it was the cold but it is also further down the list.
So that was horrifying.
Guess what! The truck is broken again. Let's take a tally: head gasket, clutch, and now something else. A person could get pissy about this right up until I say that there is nearly 400,000 miles on it. Then I just shut up about it.
I spent yesterday watching GLEE all day and into the night. I really wish that show existed when I was in high school, I really do. I imagine it might have been a game-changer for me. If you watch it, you probably know what I'm talking about. If you don't, please watch it.
I had to take an online course about septic systems. I KNOW, so Glamorous!
But it gets better, I also have to go take another two hour hands-on course as well.
The county that I live in requires this for home-owners with septic systems. If I want to skip the second course, I can just pay about $250 for someone to come inspect it every three years. Instead, I can do it myself.
I am still learning how to use my nook tablet. It has a few glitches that can be frustrating but then I just have to remind myself that it is not a laptop. Overall, I really enjoy it.
Kevin's mom is still figuring stuff out with hers. The biggest problem is that she forgets and/or is impatient. We've been over there twice at 8:00 in the evening to help work out an issue. We've added amazon and two tabloid sites for her to browse as well. All-in-all, she's seventy-five years old and using the interwebs so well done her.
I was worried that with Christmas and a limited ability to move that I would gain some weight but to my utter surprise, not so much. Here's hoping that the rest of this year continues that trend.
Missy doesn't like the sound of gunshots or fireworks. As she has gotten older, it has given her more anxiety than ever before. That being said, if we know that there is a chance of loud noises we take precautions with the exception of drugs.
New Year's Eve we spend next door playing games and eating. We left Missy inside and turned on all the radios in the house, closet all the blinds & curtains and left the lights on. To no avail. Some toolbag set off fireworks louder than most of what we used when we did it for a living. After a few episodes, Kevin decided to go check on Missy.
Yeah, she lost her shit. Well, not literally. She tore down the blinds in her room and trashed a few things that were on the window sill. Kevin said she was pacing the hallway and hyperventilating. He had to hold onto her when he opened the door or surely she would have been in Texas by daybreak. This is a first for her so that's not fun for anyone involved.
One of our favorite baristas is developing quite the little drinking problem. She's college-age so it's a little to be expected that she parties but it's clearly turning into a problem. Without intention, I mentioned that I don't drink. She very bluntly said that she gets drunk about two or three times a week. "But it's a lifestyle, not a problem." I just let her statement hang in silence. Partially because I was taken aback and partially because I wanted that pause to maybe make an impact.
As I was driving away, I thought "I could have said something like My dad only got drunk two to three times a week and there's not a moment of my childhood that was wasn't affected. Or, I've had drinking attempt to destroy my life twice and neither person would ever admit it was a problem." But truly, she wouldn't have heard me. It's going to take something truly awful for her to have an opportunity to stop herself. Hopefully it's not too awful that it just encourages it.
If I ever need something explained to me, I am just going to rely on the internet. Rachel Maddow, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Cory Booker. They each have a way to explain complicated things so that a normal human can understand.
Kevin's brother figured out how to cook Benihana style. Oh.My.Gah. SO GOOD. Guess what we're having for dinner tonight!
We had the strangest thing happen last weekend. Massive bird death. The little chickadee (we think they were) birds were landing on the road then only about half of them would fly back up. All said and done, within about a two mile length of road, we guess about a hundred birds died. It was hitchcockian, really.
Our guess is that they must have gotten into something: bad water, old berries, or something man-made. We don't think it was the cold but it is also further down the list.
So that was horrifying.
Guess what! The truck is broken again. Let's take a tally: head gasket, clutch, and now something else. A person could get pissy about this right up until I say that there is nearly 400,000 miles on it. Then I just shut up about it.
I spent yesterday watching GLEE all day and into the night. I really wish that show existed when I was in high school, I really do. I imagine it might have been a game-changer for me. If you watch it, you probably know what I'm talking about. If you don't, please watch it.
I had to take an online course about septic systems. I KNOW, so Glamorous!
But it gets better, I also have to go take another two hour hands-on course as well.
The county that I live in requires this for home-owners with septic systems. If I want to skip the second course, I can just pay about $250 for someone to come inspect it every three years. Instead, I can do it myself.
I am still learning how to use my nook tablet. It has a few glitches that can be frustrating but then I just have to remind myself that it is not a laptop. Overall, I really enjoy it.
Kevin's mom is still figuring stuff out with hers. The biggest problem is that she forgets and/or is impatient. We've been over there twice at 8:00 in the evening to help work out an issue. We've added amazon and two tabloid sites for her to browse as well. All-in-all, she's seventy-five years old and using the interwebs so well done her.
I was worried that with Christmas and a limited ability to move that I would gain some weight but to my utter surprise, not so much. Here's hoping that the rest of this year continues that trend.
Missy doesn't like the sound of gunshots or fireworks. As she has gotten older, it has given her more anxiety than ever before. That being said, if we know that there is a chance of loud noises we take precautions with the exception of drugs.
New Year's Eve we spend next door playing games and eating. We left Missy inside and turned on all the radios in the house, closet all the blinds & curtains and left the lights on. To no avail. Some toolbag set off fireworks louder than most of what we used when we did it for a living. After a few episodes, Kevin decided to go check on Missy.
Yeah, she lost her shit. Well, not literally. She tore down the blinds in her room and trashed a few things that were on the window sill. Kevin said she was pacing the hallway and hyperventilating. He had to hold onto her when he opened the door or surely she would have been in Texas by daybreak. This is a first for her so that's not fun for anyone involved.
One of our favorite baristas is developing quite the little drinking problem. She's college-age so it's a little to be expected that she parties but it's clearly turning into a problem. Without intention, I mentioned that I don't drink. She very bluntly said that she gets drunk about two or three times a week. "But it's a lifestyle, not a problem." I just let her statement hang in silence. Partially because I was taken aback and partially because I wanted that pause to maybe make an impact.
As I was driving away, I thought "I could have said something like My dad only got drunk two to three times a week and there's not a moment of my childhood that was wasn't affected. Or, I've had drinking attempt to destroy my life twice and neither person would ever admit it was a problem." But truly, she wouldn't have heard me. It's going to take something truly awful for her to have an opportunity to stop herself. Hopefully it's not too awful that it just encourages it.
If I ever need something explained to me, I am just going to rely on the internet. Rachel Maddow, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Cory Booker. They each have a way to explain complicated things so that a normal human can understand.
Kevin's brother figured out how to cook Benihana style. Oh.My.Gah. SO GOOD. Guess what we're having for dinner tonight!
18 January 2013
Quote of the Day
"Sometimes a little more effort in our professional, and even personal, choices is required."
Anonymous Commenter #1
Dear Anonymous Commenter #1,
Perhaps apply your own words to yourself.
Oh, and trolls are not welcome here.
Thanks though.
10 January 2013
Dressing the ADD revisited
I've written about this before but after this morning, it bears revisiting.
I never plan ahead what I'm going to wear the next day. I choose my clothing as I'm getting ready for work and often about ten minutes before I leave. So wardrobe mishaps have happened. Missing buttons, inside out shirt, a missed stain. You get the idea.
It suddenly got cold this week. Low 30's kind of cold, snowing kind of cold. I work in a 100 year old building with floor-to-ceiling windows cold.
So: Layers.
The ADD doesn't enjoy tight. I hate anything touching my ribs. I did find (in Vegas, quite by accident) an UnderArmour undershirt that doesn't make me insane(er). This = first layer.
I grabbed a pair of heavier cords to wear. This is where I say I have difficulty discerning between navy blue and black. (how many of you just thought of Father of the Bride? "Thaht is not blahck, thaht is Nawvy Blew.")
But I rolled with it. I decided to go monochromatic and grabbed a nawvy blew fitted sweatshirt. Did you catch that? a fitted sweatshirt. I KNOW. But I tried.
Also, I grabbed the wrong pair of underwear. Ones that don't fit comfortably. Don't we just Hate That.
Still, rolled with it. Until I didn't.
I started the station wagon, fed the dog, and was almost walking out the door when I looked at the clock. This is where if it was a movie, you would hear the record scratch.
I had a few extra minutes. I turned on my heel and completely redressed. Different almost everything. Brushed dark green cords, matching dark green fleece. Underwear that doesn't make me want to take hostages.
I was still on time for work but Even If I Wasn't = Totally Worth It. I saved lives today.
Before you ask the obvious question, wait. I totally just went and voted the above mentioned offending items from my closet.
Now, fess up. What do you have that makes you uncomfortable to wear?
I never plan ahead what I'm going to wear the next day. I choose my clothing as I'm getting ready for work and often about ten minutes before I leave. So wardrobe mishaps have happened. Missing buttons, inside out shirt, a missed stain. You get the idea.
It suddenly got cold this week. Low 30's kind of cold, snowing kind of cold. I work in a 100 year old building with floor-to-ceiling windows cold.
So: Layers.
The ADD doesn't enjoy tight. I hate anything touching my ribs. I did find (in Vegas, quite by accident) an UnderArmour undershirt that doesn't make me insane(er). This = first layer.
I grabbed a pair of heavier cords to wear. This is where I say I have difficulty discerning between navy blue and black. (how many of you just thought of Father of the Bride? "Thaht is not blahck, thaht is Nawvy Blew.")
But I rolled with it. I decided to go monochromatic and grabbed a nawvy blew fitted sweatshirt. Did you catch that? a fitted sweatshirt. I KNOW. But I tried.
Also, I grabbed the wrong pair of underwear. Ones that don't fit comfortably. Don't we just Hate That.
Still, rolled with it. Until I didn't.
I started the station wagon, fed the dog, and was almost walking out the door when I looked at the clock. This is where if it was a movie, you would hear the record scratch.
I had a few extra minutes. I turned on my heel and completely redressed. Different almost everything. Brushed dark green cords, matching dark green fleece. Underwear that doesn't make me want to take hostages.
I was still on time for work but Even If I Wasn't = Totally Worth It. I saved lives today.
Before you ask the obvious question, wait. I totally just went and voted the above mentioned offending items from my closet.
Now, fess up. What do you have that makes you uncomfortable to wear?
08 January 2013
Quote of the Day
January 8, 2013
"Sometimes you just need to give in to the yuckiness of
the day, throw your psychic hands up in the air and trust that tomorrow
will be an improvement."
— Amy Shearn
So, ummm, where does one start with this?
"Yukkiness" really? We are not six.
I don't subscribe to "I'm having a bad day." You're having a bad moment, hour, or whatever. I just can't let one bad instance sink a whole day.
WTH is "psychic hands"?
I do agree that tomorrow is going to be better. I completely subscribe to Scarlet O'Hara's "Tomorrow's another day" way of thinking.
I don't know. This quote just caught me off guard. Maybe I need more coffee and then it will make sense to me.
(this is also where I say that the quotee is probably a lovely person. I just don't understand her.)
06 January 2013
My mom is on the facebook
Actually Kevin's mom is.
His father gave her the Nook tablet and we set up a facebook and gmail account on Christmas Day. She was so excited because she's been wanting a facebook account for about a year. She is 72 years old and a stroke victim but she's picking it up pretty quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly.
Earlier today we were trying to emphasize the difference between writing on someone's wall and sending them a private message.
Tonight we laughed out loud when she posted on Kevin's brothers page
"Hi Jim.Are you still awake? I am not for long. Have a good night (."
I think Kevin's brother saw every day of his future life flash before his life.
She's commenting on as many things as she can figure out how to. On my general "Happy New Years" post she thanked me for the chocolate cake we gave them last night.
On one Kevin's oldest friends, she posted "Thanks for being my friend."
It's very sweet because the cousins (her nieces) live in Missouri, Kansas, & Washington DC and they FREAKED OUT that their elderly aunt was on the facebook. Now they can keep in contact with her without the half-hour long monthly telephone conversations.
Now she's facebook-stalking everyone. Kevin said he'll look at her Nook and she'll have ten windows open where she's looking at pictures, walls, friends lists.
Although we did have to tell her not long ago that LOL is not "lots of love". "Well, that's not how I mean it." she says.
Kevin told her "Mom, you can't just use it how you mean it. What if Pam's dog dies? Are you going to write "Sorry your dog died. LOL"?
Now that she has nearly figured out facebook, we are going to set up an Amazon account. Once she proves that she's not going to put them in the poor house by "accidentally" buying things, we'll set up some web-browsing for her.
Heaven help us. Kev's mom is on the facebook.
His father gave her the Nook tablet and we set up a facebook and gmail account on Christmas Day. She was so excited because she's been wanting a facebook account for about a year. She is 72 years old and a stroke victim but she's picking it up pretty quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly.
Earlier today we were trying to emphasize the difference between writing on someone's wall and sending them a private message.
Tonight we laughed out loud when she posted on Kevin's brothers page
"Hi Jim.Are you still awake? I am not for long. Have a good night (."
I think Kevin's brother saw every day of his future life flash before his life.
She's commenting on as many things as she can figure out how to. On my general "Happy New Years" post she thanked me for the chocolate cake we gave them last night.
On one Kevin's oldest friends, she posted "Thanks for being my friend."
It's very sweet because the cousins (her nieces) live in Missouri, Kansas, & Washington DC and they FREAKED OUT that their elderly aunt was on the facebook. Now they can keep in contact with her without the half-hour long monthly telephone conversations.
Now she's facebook-stalking everyone. Kevin said he'll look at her Nook and she'll have ten windows open where she's looking at pictures, walls, friends lists.
Although we did have to tell her not long ago that LOL is not "lots of love". "Well, that's not how I mean it." she says.
Kevin told her "Mom, you can't just use it how you mean it. What if Pam's dog dies? Are you going to write "Sorry your dog died. LOL"?
Now that she has nearly figured out facebook, we are going to set up an Amazon account. Once she proves that she's not going to put them in the poor house by "accidentally" buying things, we'll set up some web-browsing for her.
Heaven help us. Kev's mom is on the facebook.
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