Now I'm hooked.
I did the Summit to Surf, which was fantastic -- the 36-mile so-called "leisure ride" goes from Mt. Hood Meadows to Hood River, Oregon. A hundred yards out of the parking lot at Meadows and you're bombing down the mountain at 40mph, or faster if you are riding a really nice road bike and aren't a wuss. Wussy types on mountain bikes with commuter tires, such as yours truly, top out at about 40.
A friend of my gracious chauffeurs, Karen and John (and official mascot baby Katie) was also registered in this ride. I'm not sure if it was just that Annette was behind me or if I'm in better shape than last year, or more likely a combination of the two, but I was seriously shocked when the ride ended. Technically speaking she was only behind me on the hills, since a really nice road bike can take you up the hills much faster than an aging mountain bike with the aforementioned commuter tires. Also she's probably in better shape. Even though she just turned *cough* forty, nearly two months before me.
At any rate we blew into Hood River by lunchtime, collected our swag: tshirt, keychains, thermal coffee cups, other assorted stuff from sponsors. Annette and John/Karen scored sets of chrome skull end caps for their Yakima racks. Off to lunch. Burgerville was offering free lunch to all participants but we wanted to go to lunch with our hosts at the legendary Char-Burger in Cascade Locks. Pickup trucks filled with Native Americans (with special fishing rights, or there would be plenty of white folk as well) selling fresh and smoked salmon line the parking lot, and the gift shop sells fudge. 'Nuff said. Also, there is pie, and they serve those big fat crinkle-cut fries. Nature's perfect food.
Now, last year I involuntarily tipped over not far out of Cascade Locks and slept most of the hour-plus drive home, (John at the wheel, and for good reason) but this year I stayed awake although I was sleepy. Again: better condition? Maybe so.
Next event: the Bridge Pedal, which takes you over an assortment of Portland's bridges. Annette urged me to register and we intend to make those bridges our bitches!!!1! We chose the second longest ride, 24 miles, 8 bridges. Next year we'll go for all ten bridges which adds about twelve miles. This is a big event with like ten thousand people riding and walking across the bridges, some of which are not usually accessible to pedestrians or cyclists. I've been meaning to do it for years. Every year I'll space it off and then the day before I'll find out about it. Too late. Not this year!
So my collection of event tshirts is growing. Some may argue that I'm getting a bit long in the tooth to wear shirts with words and logos on them, but I beg to differ. :)
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
OMG! Why!
Once again my father has sent me a ridiculous message but at least this time it's not about religion. And I'm sad to say he's not the only one who sent it.
It's that same stupid Pearlas Sandborn one about how Bill Gates wants to share his fortune with you just for forwarding some email to all your friends. Eventually it is my hope that each and every computer user will learn that this email is designed merely to annoy everybody in your address book, but I fear that will never happen considering that it's been around in one form or another for around ten years. This exact letter has been submitted as far back as 2003; I think that 4 years of clogging up the internet is enough.
I'm tempted to label anybody who forwards it as, at best, naive, but there is something about the tender hope that simply by forwarding an email, one may not only possibly collect thousands of dollars oneself but also allow one's friends to do so also. It is a little bit touching. Possibly I say so because I hold the other person who sent it to me in such high regard.
It's that same stupid Pearlas Sandborn one about how Bill Gates wants to share his fortune with you just for forwarding some email to all your friends. Eventually it is my hope that each and every computer user will learn that this email is designed merely to annoy everybody in your address book, but I fear that will never happen considering that it's been around in one form or another for around ten years. This exact letter has been submitted as far back as 2003; I think that 4 years of clogging up the internet is enough.
I'm tempted to label anybody who forwards it as, at best, naive, but there is something about the tender hope that simply by forwarding an email, one may not only possibly collect thousands of dollars oneself but also allow one's friends to do so also. It is a little bit touching. Possibly I say so because I hold the other person who sent it to me in such high regard.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
An Eel in the Family
I'm going to brag on my kid for a moment. Now, I know that it's normal to be proud of your child and I try not to act as if the sun rises and sets on mine (although we all know that it does, don't we?), but I'm going to go ahead and take a moment to be all braggy and then I'll stop. Bear with me or don't read this post. :)
The small fry is attending swim lessons at the local Y. She is 3 and so are the other kids in her class, all boys. One of them, Sam the Crier, is slowly mastering his deathly fear of the pool. The first day he cried the whole half hour and tried to leave the pool altogether more than once. I gathered from listening to his grandmother and the instructor talking that this is his second time taking lessons.
Delia has never had fear of water, of having water in her face, that sort of thing. She is uneasy in deep water and understands that whole thing about you need to be able to keep your head above water, I don't mean that she's unaware of the dangers, but if she is in water that is not too deep she will happily play and splash. She has been known to stay in the tub for upwards of a couple of hours and still protest when it's time to finally get out.
This is also her second time in lessons. She went in June, twice a week for four weeks. After the second lesson I found her submerging herself in her bathwater and creeping around on the bottom of the tub, repeatedly, for fun. She leaps into her kiddie pool with impunity. Other moms and grandmas come up to me at the pool and ask me whether we have a pool at home after they watch her throwing herself into the water like a sea lion.
Today the instructor had the kids hold her hands with theirs in the time honored V-in-front position while she pulled them a short way in the shallow water. When it was Delia's turn, she let her go and watched her glide through the water, kicking her feet. Then she asked Delia to lay on her back in the water, which Delia happily did, allowing the instructor to tip her chin up so that her ears were under water. The instructor then stood up and asked, "Whose is this one? How old is she? 3? She's ready for Eel. That's unusual for someone under 6 years old." After the lesson she came and told me that she's way ahead of most kids in how comfortable she is in the water. Now comes the coordination and the attention span development.
OK, all done bragging. :)
The small fry is attending swim lessons at the local Y. She is 3 and so are the other kids in her class, all boys. One of them, Sam the Crier, is slowly mastering his deathly fear of the pool. The first day he cried the whole half hour and tried to leave the pool altogether more than once. I gathered from listening to his grandmother and the instructor talking that this is his second time taking lessons.
Delia has never had fear of water, of having water in her face, that sort of thing. She is uneasy in deep water and understands that whole thing about you need to be able to keep your head above water, I don't mean that she's unaware of the dangers, but if she is in water that is not too deep she will happily play and splash. She has been known to stay in the tub for upwards of a couple of hours and still protest when it's time to finally get out.
This is also her second time in lessons. She went in June, twice a week for four weeks. After the second lesson I found her submerging herself in her bathwater and creeping around on the bottom of the tub, repeatedly, for fun. She leaps into her kiddie pool with impunity. Other moms and grandmas come up to me at the pool and ask me whether we have a pool at home after they watch her throwing herself into the water like a sea lion.
Today the instructor had the kids hold her hands with theirs in the time honored V-in-front position while she pulled them a short way in the shallow water. When it was Delia's turn, she let her go and watched her glide through the water, kicking her feet. Then she asked Delia to lay on her back in the water, which Delia happily did, allowing the instructor to tip her chin up so that her ears were under water. The instructor then stood up and asked, "Whose is this one? How old is she? 3? She's ready for Eel. That's unusual for someone under 6 years old." After the lesson she came and told me that she's way ahead of most kids in how comfortable she is in the water. Now comes the coordination and the attention span development.
OK, all done bragging. :)
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Crispy Fish Snack
My blogfriend Mel has a post about finding a Freaky Gigantic Grasshopper in her shoe and one of the commentors left a link that I found very interesting:
https://www.thailandunique.com/store/index.php?main_page=index
If you nose around a bit on this site you will find many fine foods and beverages including Crispy Fish Snack. I want to make a blog named Crispy Fish Snack now. Or start a band, or something like that.
There is also a product called Fluffy Pork Snack, a name I prize just as highly. Decisions, decisions!
https://www.thailandunique.com/store/index.php?main_page=index
If you nose around a bit on this site you will find many fine foods and beverages including Crispy Fish Snack. I want to make a blog named Crispy Fish Snack now. Or start a band, or something like that.
There is also a product called Fluffy Pork Snack, a name I prize just as highly. Decisions, decisions!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Triathlons for Dummies
Who's the dummy here? Why, me of course. I'm doing the Danskin triathlon in about a month. Am I ready? Um. No. Do I have time to prepare? Um, again, no. Am I gonna do it anyways? Hell yes.
The first year I signed up for the Danskin, which is a five-thousand participant women's sprint length triathlon, I missed the swim for reasons I can't really go into. I almost threw in the towel and walked away in disgust but my better half encouraged me to finish it anyway since I was there and all. So I did.
Then last year I signed up again but for yet more reasons I can't go into, had to bail on the whole thing. Didn't even show up. I did do the Summit to Surf ride, with the assistance of my very good friends Karen and John, who kindly drove me there and picked me up and took me to a huge meal afterward. It is a 36-mile ride from Mt. Hood Meadows down into Hood River, Oregon. Lovely ride, chilly on the way down but quite thrilling. It winds through orchards laden with fruit, the trees so heavily burdened that the branches are supported with long boards to keep them from breaking and to keep the fruit off the ground. A large part of it is downhill but a lot of it is also not downhill so not to worry, it's not a free ride. It's work.
It is a fundraiser for diabetes research and I am happy to say that this year I am doing it again and will meet my modest fundraising goal, thanks to many generous individuals who ponied up the cash. It is in about a week and a half.
Tonight I went on a short (12.8 miles), easy-paced ride with a local bicycling club. I took my neighbor from down the street. I mentioned to her some time ago that I was doing a tri this year and she mulled it over for a while, then decided she wanted to do it too! We are not doing the same race but we can help each other out training. She was very nervous about the ride tonight but made it just fine and we have some plans to ride again next week as well as do some open-water swimming too. It's nice to have a friend to do some of this stuff with. The women who took us on the ride were super nice, very friendly, nobody ridiculed anybody else's bike or anything like that. We just rode. And, because this was an estrogen-fueled event, we stopped and gabbed a lot, and were all super supportive to each other before the two "minor" hills.
One of which I stood up and powered my way up when it got steep! I haven't done that in years. So there, hill! Eat my padded shorts! MUWAHAHAHA!
And now I need a wee lil' nap. Goodnight all.
The first year I signed up for the Danskin, which is a five-thousand participant women's sprint length triathlon, I missed the swim for reasons I can't really go into. I almost threw in the towel and walked away in disgust but my better half encouraged me to finish it anyway since I was there and all. So I did.
Then last year I signed up again but for yet more reasons I can't go into, had to bail on the whole thing. Didn't even show up. I did do the Summit to Surf ride, with the assistance of my very good friends Karen and John, who kindly drove me there and picked me up and took me to a huge meal afterward. It is a 36-mile ride from Mt. Hood Meadows down into Hood River, Oregon. Lovely ride, chilly on the way down but quite thrilling. It winds through orchards laden with fruit, the trees so heavily burdened that the branches are supported with long boards to keep them from breaking and to keep the fruit off the ground. A large part of it is downhill but a lot of it is also not downhill so not to worry, it's not a free ride. It's work.
It is a fundraiser for diabetes research and I am happy to say that this year I am doing it again and will meet my modest fundraising goal, thanks to many generous individuals who ponied up the cash. It is in about a week and a half.
Tonight I went on a short (12.8 miles), easy-paced ride with a local bicycling club. I took my neighbor from down the street. I mentioned to her some time ago that I was doing a tri this year and she mulled it over for a while, then decided she wanted to do it too! We are not doing the same race but we can help each other out training. She was very nervous about the ride tonight but made it just fine and we have some plans to ride again next week as well as do some open-water swimming too. It's nice to have a friend to do some of this stuff with. The women who took us on the ride were super nice, very friendly, nobody ridiculed anybody else's bike or anything like that. We just rode. And, because this was an estrogen-fueled event, we stopped and gabbed a lot, and were all super supportive to each other before the two "minor" hills.
One of which I stood up and powered my way up when it got steep! I haven't done that in years. So there, hill! Eat my padded shorts! MUWAHAHAHA!
And now I need a wee lil' nap. Goodnight all.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Phone Manners
A few minutes ago my cellphone rings. My caller ID does not ID the number so I don't know if it's someone I know or not. I answer, despite not knowing who could be calling me at 11:30pm, because I am old and unhip and uncool and nobody calls that late unless it's an emergency. What if it's an emergency?
Me: Hello?
Teenage Girl: Um... is Sara there?
Me: Sorry, you have a wrong number.
TG: Oh... sorry. -click-
A few minutes later, it rings again, still no ID. I answer again strictly for the potential pleasure of telling off some annoying kid who calls numbers late at night without being sure they are correct.
Me: Hello?
TG, Possible a Different One: (largely unintelligible declaration about staying away from her boyfriend or she will, and I quote, "smack me.")
Me, in a slightly hostile tone that probably just sounded peevish: Hi, I have no idea who you are or why you are calling me. (Pretty snappy, eh?)
TG,PaDO: -click-
If she calls back, I will let it go to voicemail so she can listen to my non-teenage, unhip muppety voice identify myself by my first name and tell her to leave a message. I'm hoping that this ends the matter, but if it does not, I hope at least to capture her number so I can initiate a series of irritating crank calls.
When did I get to be such a dork?
Me: Hello?
Teenage Girl: Um... is Sara there?
Me: Sorry, you have a wrong number.
TG: Oh... sorry. -click-
A few minutes later, it rings again, still no ID. I answer again strictly for the potential pleasure of telling off some annoying kid who calls numbers late at night without being sure they are correct.
Me: Hello?
TG, Possible a Different One: (largely unintelligible declaration about staying away from her boyfriend or she will, and I quote, "smack me.")
Me, in a slightly hostile tone that probably just sounded peevish: Hi, I have no idea who you are or why you are calling me. (Pretty snappy, eh?)
TG,PaDO: -click-
If she calls back, I will let it go to voicemail so she can listen to my non-teenage, unhip muppety voice identify myself by my first name and tell her to leave a message. I'm hoping that this ends the matter, but if it does not, I hope at least to capture her number so I can initiate a series of irritating crank calls.
When did I get to be such a dork?
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Gee My Foot Smells Terrific
It's hot today. Damn hot. Inferno hot. Tarzan couldn't take this heat.
Well, for here it's hot. Like in the 90's. Sweaty hot.
I chose today to run some errands because I am not all that smart. The small car does have air conditioning but it hasn't been recharged since we bought it new in 2001. It still works, but not all that fabulously -- I'd call it merely adequate. Yes, I do plan to have it recharged some time soon.
At any rate off I drove, in the hottest part of the day, to do a little banking, buy some yard & garden products at YardGardenHomeBuildingMegaloMartDepot, then hit the MembershipCo for coffee since it is right across the street from YGHBMMD. It seems ridiculous to buy just one item there when you can buy enormous quantities of anything you please, but it was the only thing I needed there and it's cheap and surprisingly good if you get the kind they roast on the premises. Then you must grind it yourself, either there on the supplied grinders, or at home if you're some kind of masochist, er I mean purist. We have a small home grinder but I find it annoying to deal with more than occasionally and am not that fussy. Probably owing to the fact that I don't really drink coffee unless it's embedded, by someone else, in a latte at a shop. All the little rituals involved in making, creaming, sugaring and drinking coffee in the home are lost on me.
At any rate I poured the beans into the grinder and started it up, only to be pinged on my 2-way cell radio feature thingy, and so I became one of those mindless yakkers who isn't paying attention to what they are doing. Don't we all just hate those people? I know I do. And so I didn't notice that the bag sort of collapsed and was therefore not really catching the grinder's output.
And that is how I came to have a left sandal filled with freshly ground coffee.
Well, for here it's hot. Like in the 90's. Sweaty hot.
I chose today to run some errands because I am not all that smart. The small car does have air conditioning but it hasn't been recharged since we bought it new in 2001. It still works, but not all that fabulously -- I'd call it merely adequate. Yes, I do plan to have it recharged some time soon.
At any rate off I drove, in the hottest part of the day, to do a little banking, buy some yard & garden products at YardGardenHomeBuildingMegaloMartDepot, then hit the MembershipCo for coffee since it is right across the street from YGHBMMD. It seems ridiculous to buy just one item there when you can buy enormous quantities of anything you please, but it was the only thing I needed there and it's cheap and surprisingly good if you get the kind they roast on the premises. Then you must grind it yourself, either there on the supplied grinders, or at home if you're some kind of masochist, er I mean purist. We have a small home grinder but I find it annoying to deal with more than occasionally and am not that fussy. Probably owing to the fact that I don't really drink coffee unless it's embedded, by someone else, in a latte at a shop. All the little rituals involved in making, creaming, sugaring and drinking coffee in the home are lost on me.
At any rate I poured the beans into the grinder and started it up, only to be pinged on my 2-way cell radio feature thingy, and so I became one of those mindless yakkers who isn't paying attention to what they are doing. Don't we all just hate those people? I know I do. And so I didn't notice that the bag sort of collapsed and was therefore not really catching the grinder's output.
And that is how I came to have a left sandal filled with freshly ground coffee.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Four Things Meme
Four jobs I would stink at:
Sales of any type (high pressure sales like cars, telemarketing, etc)
Clothing designer (as anyone who's ever seen how I dress can tell you)
Makeup lady at the department store (must! fight! urge! to make people up like clowns!)
Four pretend nicknames I make up for myself:
Actually, I've never made up a nickname for myself.
Four Movies I have watched over & over again:
Some Like It Hot
Bridget Jones's Diary
The Birdcage
Any Harry Potter movie
Four places I have lived:
Jacksonville, FL
Portland, OR
Moscow, Russia, USSR (at the time)
Vancouver WA
Four things I love to do on my weekends:
I don't have weekends.
Four TV shows I geek out to, or used to geek out to:
Survivor
NCIS
Any sitcom on when I'm making dinner
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
Four alcoholic beverages I’ve enjoyed on vacations:
Margaritas
Beer
Margaritas
Beer
Four things I could NOT live without (besides oxygen, H20, and miscellaneous life-sustaining substances, included kids, and other family members):
Laptop
Glasses
Cellphone
Paper and pen (and it better be a good pen)
Four of my favorite foods:
Salad rolls
Ice cream
Really good kosher hot dogs
Anything chocolate
Four places I would rather be right now:
Disneyland
Mt. St. Helens, hiking around the lava beds
Juneau, visiting friends
England, visiting a friend and seeing everything
Sales of any type (high pressure sales like cars, telemarketing, etc)
Clothing designer (as anyone who's ever seen how I dress can tell you)
Makeup lady at the department store (must! fight! urge! to make people up like clowns!)
Four pretend nicknames I make up for myself:
Actually, I've never made up a nickname for myself.
Four Movies I have watched over & over again:
Some Like It Hot
Bridget Jones's Diary
The Birdcage
Any Harry Potter movie
Four places I have lived:
Jacksonville, FL
Portland, OR
Moscow, Russia, USSR (at the time)
Vancouver WA
Four things I love to do on my weekends:
I don't have weekends.
Four TV shows I geek out to, or used to geek out to:
Survivor
NCIS
Any sitcom on when I'm making dinner
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
Four alcoholic beverages I’ve enjoyed on vacations:
Margaritas
Beer
Margaritas
Beer
Four things I could NOT live without (besides oxygen, H20, and miscellaneous life-sustaining substances, included kids, and other family members):
Laptop
Glasses
Cellphone
Paper and pen (and it better be a good pen)
Four of my favorite foods:
Salad rolls
Ice cream
Really good kosher hot dogs
Anything chocolate
Four places I would rather be right now:
Disneyland
Mt. St. Helens, hiking around the lava beds
Juneau, visiting friends
England, visiting a friend and seeing everything
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Surprise
Immediately upon replacing the last of the crucial items lost with my wallet, I found it languishing behind the driver's seat of the small car, buried beneath a pile of miscellaneous things (some trash, some toys, some... stuff). The small car that both I and my better half had searched. GRR!
But now I have a spankin' new library card which is far more decorative than the old one, and my new debit card is much prettier than its predecessor. So it was not all for naught.
But now I have a spankin' new library card which is far more decorative than the old one, and my new debit card is much prettier than its predecessor. So it was not all for naught.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Chickeny goodness, and meeples
So a few nights ago I was on the phone to my better half who was away and suddenly the back patio was crawling with chickens. Disgruntled chickens who were loafing about complaining and bellyaching. It being 9pm or so I felt compelled to check out their hut to see what was driving them out into the night, since typically they hit the sheets by about 7 and are not heard from again until morning.
I cracked open the back doors of their hut, which is in desperate need of cleanage, and found a small possum inside. Naturally, I did the only logical thing (after squeaking loudly and jumping backwards, involuntarily) -- I ran for the camera.
Once I had taken sufficient photos, I brandished a dollar-store water shooter (like a giant plastic syringe, which shoots about 30 feet and is a total deal if you ask me) that was lying in the yard and used it to poke the little varmint until it wandered down the ramp and scurried under the shed.
In the meantime, one of the chickens had discovered the vent from the gas fireplace. Turns out that it's warm all the time from the pilot light, and what nicer place for a chicken to homestead than beneath a yummy warm fireplace vent? And how nice of us to provide them with these lovely, cushiony pots of Gerber daisies upon which to roost!
There was a lot of grumbling as I carried each one back to the hut and then closed the door on them. Some of it even came from the chickens. Since then I have had to put them into their hut every night and am going to be relocating the Gerber daisies today since I do like them and would like to see them bloom again.
Today, Delia is watching a bit of Backyardigans while unclothed. I have tried to dress her but she has taken an anti-clothing stance today. Today's episode had a pirate theme and she excitedly yelled to me, "MAMA! I'M A PIRATE! WITH MEEPLES! AND I'M NAKED!" I offer photographic evidence of same:
By the way, meeples = nipples. Thanks to Grandma for teaching her this important anatomical term!
I cracked open the back doors of their hut, which is in desperate need of cleanage, and found a small possum inside. Naturally, I did the only logical thing (after squeaking loudly and jumping backwards, involuntarily) -- I ran for the camera.
Once I had taken sufficient photos, I brandished a dollar-store water shooter (like a giant plastic syringe, which shoots about 30 feet and is a total deal if you ask me) that was lying in the yard and used it to poke the little varmint until it wandered down the ramp and scurried under the shed.
In the meantime, one of the chickens had discovered the vent from the gas fireplace. Turns out that it's warm all the time from the pilot light, and what nicer place for a chicken to homestead than beneath a yummy warm fireplace vent? And how nice of us to provide them with these lovely, cushiony pots of Gerber daisies upon which to roost!
There was a lot of grumbling as I carried each one back to the hut and then closed the door on them. Some of it even came from the chickens. Since then I have had to put them into their hut every night and am going to be relocating the Gerber daisies today since I do like them and would like to see them bloom again.
Today, Delia is watching a bit of Backyardigans while unclothed. I have tried to dress her but she has taken an anti-clothing stance today. Today's episode had a pirate theme and she excitedly yelled to me, "MAMA! I'M A PIRATE! WITH MEEPLES! AND I'M NAKED!" I offer photographic evidence of same:
By the way, meeples = nipples. Thanks to Grandma for teaching her this important anatomical term!
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
A Great Big Grown-Up Girl
Today, my tiny little baby girl went off to her first day of preschool. I dropped her off and the extremely nice teachers took over, making her a name tag and pinning it to her, showing her around, where is your cubby, where is the potty, all that. When she was settled and it was time for me to go, she barely gave me a look and off she ran to play with the kids and the toys, with hardly a thought for her poor bereft mother...
She's so not sentimental about these things. It's probably better this way, no teary scenes, no clinging and crying, but it still wrenches a bit. The first few times I dropped her off with others, at the gym club (once she was familiar enough with it not to freak out) or with friends or family, and she didn't cry or even seem dubious about my leaving, I wondered if she had an attachment disorder or something. But, she is always glad to see me and is a bit clingy at times, so she's probably fine.
At any rate, I did get a little choked up when I left without her. A little sniff, a tear in my eye, and then it was off to the mall for a haircut! Browsing the library for books, unhurried and thoughtful. A bite to eat. A stop at a shoe store advertising Crocs, because I am looking for the kind you can put an orthotic in. (They didn't have them but I did look at the incredibly ugly Z-Coil shoes, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I will end up in them when I start nursing school.)
Then, unthinkably, I ran out of things to do and came home, watched some TV, read a book.
As I sat on the couch, I saw a beautiful goldfinch light on the hummingbird feeder which made me want to blog, so here I am. I didn't get a picture, but you can bet I'll keep trying. :)
Monday, June 04, 2007
Taking my lumps
I have not blogged about this but shall, finally: I did not make it into nursing school.
I did not make it this time, because although I was led to believe that I had first 46 points and then 49 points (out of 53 total possible), I in fact had 43. The shock of getting a letter that said "no" when I had really expected one that said "yes" was so depressing that I just couldn't face blogging about it.
The cutoff for selection varies from deadline to deadline depending on the pool, they just total everyone up and skim off the top however many, but it has generally been in the neighborhood of 46 for the April deadline and lower for the October one. So you can see why I was pretty sure I'd get in, since I thought I had 49 points.
They start 3 new classes per year, 40 students in each, and the April deadline selects for Winter term, October for Spring and Fall. So had I made it, I would have been going in January. As it is, I now have 47 points and in two weeks I will have 50, which puts me definitely in for October, and I should start in April of next year though it could be September if there are 40 other applicants with 50 points or more and an earlier log-in date than mine. Which is the tiebreaker.
I had to make an appointment with advising anyway to fill out some paper for financial aid, so I had them go over my points and am now reasonably mollified, but it still stings a bit.
On the same day that this letter came and slapped me in my overly-confident, misinformed face, we also got one from the insurance company telling us that a medical bill was not covered. For 6600 dollars. So I was shocked, dismayed, and totally stressed out for the whole week.
Then we called about it and were informed that the bill is actually covered, though not the 500 dollar copay which we would have had to pay either way, so my week brightened considerably at that point.
May your weeks go better than that one did for me.
I did not make it this time, because although I was led to believe that I had first 46 points and then 49 points (out of 53 total possible), I in fact had 43. The shock of getting a letter that said "no" when I had really expected one that said "yes" was so depressing that I just couldn't face blogging about it.
The cutoff for selection varies from deadline to deadline depending on the pool, they just total everyone up and skim off the top however many, but it has generally been in the neighborhood of 46 for the April deadline and lower for the October one. So you can see why I was pretty sure I'd get in, since I thought I had 49 points.
They start 3 new classes per year, 40 students in each, and the April deadline selects for Winter term, October for Spring and Fall. So had I made it, I would have been going in January. As it is, I now have 47 points and in two weeks I will have 50, which puts me definitely in for October, and I should start in April of next year though it could be September if there are 40 other applicants with 50 points or more and an earlier log-in date than mine. Which is the tiebreaker.
I had to make an appointment with advising anyway to fill out some paper for financial aid, so I had them go over my points and am now reasonably mollified, but it still stings a bit.
On the same day that this letter came and slapped me in my overly-confident, misinformed face, we also got one from the insurance company telling us that a medical bill was not covered. For 6600 dollars. So I was shocked, dismayed, and totally stressed out for the whole week.
Then we called about it and were informed that the bill is actually covered, though not the 500 dollar copay which we would have had to pay either way, so my week brightened considerably at that point.
May your weeks go better than that one did for me.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Power to the Poultrytariat!
We decided to clip the chickens' wings and let them roam the backyard at will. Today was the inaugural stomp around the yard -- sort of.
J. detached the chicken hut from the pen and pointed it out so the ramp to the doorway sticks out into the yard, thus enabling the birdies to step on out as they wish. But after two years of confinement to their smallish pen, they are a bit overwhelmed at having options and so far have declined to stray far from the pen. In fact they hang around under their house and in the pen enclosure when they are not inside their hut. Evidently the are just not getting it. One assumes that eventually they will.
We went out early this morning since it was so warm, and a smallish member of the household was so excited about the freeing of the banties that I was forced to run for the camera. I was looking at the paper and turned my head just in time to witness Delia hiking across the yard with a chicken under her arm. I have some idea, I think, of how the rest of the summer will be spent.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
This 'n That
Took the baby to her 3 year checkup today, is has been confirmed that she is indeed tall and kinda skinny, and also healthy as a horse. 39.5 inches tall, 34.5 pounds, and very subdued yet cooperative during her appointment. Our child, who never ever shuts up, said nothing at all for the duration of her examination until a final, whispered "bye" when it was over. Immediately the door was closed she opened her wee mouth and chattered on about stickers and that thing they look in your ears with and so forth, until we got into the car whereupon she sang all the way home.
In other news, I made this car charm for a classmate. Kindly ignore the slightly tatty kitchen towel upon which it is displayed.
The little bejeweled handbag charm was in my arsenal from a shopping trip some time ago, awaiting matching with its rightful owner. I typically go to a local pub after class on Friday nights and spend an hour or so having a nosh with this girl from my class, and she recently obtained for me a free pass to this cool exhibit, so I thought, I should make her a little bracelet or car charm or something. And then the handbag charm gave out a tiny shout from the bead box and that was it.
Being a car charm, its sole purpose in life is to dangle from the rear-view mirror of a car and look pretty. It is not imbued with magical powers... or is it?
In other news, I made this car charm for a classmate. Kindly ignore the slightly tatty kitchen towel upon which it is displayed.
The little bejeweled handbag charm was in my arsenal from a shopping trip some time ago, awaiting matching with its rightful owner. I typically go to a local pub after class on Friday nights and spend an hour or so having a nosh with this girl from my class, and she recently obtained for me a free pass to this cool exhibit, so I thought, I should make her a little bracelet or car charm or something. And then the handbag charm gave out a tiny shout from the bead box and that was it.
Being a car charm, its sole purpose in life is to dangle from the rear-view mirror of a car and look pretty. It is not imbued with magical powers... or is it?
Monday, May 28, 2007
Updated Cute Baby Pics!
Time for birthday photos! Enjoy!
Okay, these are puny because they are saved off the website for the place I go for pictures, but better than nothing. :)
Okay, these are puny because they are saved off the website for the place I go for pictures, but better than nothing. :)
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Happy birthday my little scooby!
Today is Delia's 3rd birthday!
This morning I went in her room once I heard her in there warbling and murping as she does in the mornings. "Good morning!" I said to her. She hid her face with her hands to be funny. "Guess what today is?" I asked her. She peeked out from behind her fingers and said, "What?" And I told her, "Today is YOUR BIRTHDAY!" And she leaped up and shouted, "YAY!!!"
Because I am a terrible person and an even worse parent, it wasn't until I had brought her out for her morning Ovaltine that I realized we needed to scare up some kind of first-thing-in-the-morning giftie. Luckily, there were a few things laying around leftover from Christmas and so I was able to duck into the office and stuff a "Cootie" game into a gift bag. Honestly, why did anyone let me bring a poor defenseless baby into the world and then allow me to take it home from the hospital? Why?
She was thrilled with the game and happily spent the rest of the morning playing with the various bug legs and so forth. Today's Cootie, by the way, comes ready to snap together (as I doubt its ancestors did) and one set of its legs is outfitted in itsy bitsy rollerblades.
At that point I had to go to school and afterward, as planned, stopped by Target for her actual gifts: a kiddie pool, a swim suit, an outfit, and one of those big vinyl balls they sell in big cages from time to time at grocery stores and Targets and so forth.
I also replaced my wallet. I can put my stupid paper driver's license in it that the state of Washington gives you when you go in to the DMV. The real one comes in the mail a few days down the line. This time I chose a slightly larger wallet that has a little photo section in it for pictures of the baby. :)
We had some friends over who very kindly came despite a hectic day. BBQ pork ribs were eaten, as was potato salad and baked beans, and then she opened her various gifts, including a book and five bucks from her Aunt Doreen, the aforementioned items from her doting moms, and the crowning glory: from Karen and John and wee Baby Katie, a duck on a stick. You push the duck around in front of you and its flappy feet very satisfyingly slap the floor as it waddles on its (purposely) lopsided wheels.
Delia very obligingly yodeled with delight as she raced around the loop (kitchen has doorways at each end, allowing children to run in a circuit through the kitchen and living room, around and around, generally while screaming and giggling; it happens at every family gathering held in our house where two or more children are present, and sometimes even if no other children are present besides Delia). She took the duck, her new best friend, to bed with her.
Lest we, her long-suffering moms, feel slighted, she did seem happy with the pool and also held up her new swimsuit and pronounced it "pretty."
The big family party is next week, a joint party with her cousin Caleb who is turning 7 two weeks from now. So today was rather low-key, especially since her cousins across the street are at the beach this weekend as they always are Memorial Day weekend. But next week -- there will be super festivities. Possibly including a pinata. And definitely the kiddie pool if the weather is warm.
Photos to follow soon! :)
This morning I went in her room once I heard her in there warbling and murping as she does in the mornings. "Good morning!" I said to her. She hid her face with her hands to be funny. "Guess what today is?" I asked her. She peeked out from behind her fingers and said, "What?" And I told her, "Today is YOUR BIRTHDAY!" And she leaped up and shouted, "YAY!!!"
Because I am a terrible person and an even worse parent, it wasn't until I had brought her out for her morning Ovaltine that I realized we needed to scare up some kind of first-thing-in-the-morning giftie. Luckily, there were a few things laying around leftover from Christmas and so I was able to duck into the office and stuff a "Cootie" game into a gift bag. Honestly, why did anyone let me bring a poor defenseless baby into the world and then allow me to take it home from the hospital? Why?
She was thrilled with the game and happily spent the rest of the morning playing with the various bug legs and so forth. Today's Cootie, by the way, comes ready to snap together (as I doubt its ancestors did) and one set of its legs is outfitted in itsy bitsy rollerblades.
At that point I had to go to school and afterward, as planned, stopped by Target for her actual gifts: a kiddie pool, a swim suit, an outfit, and one of those big vinyl balls they sell in big cages from time to time at grocery stores and Targets and so forth.
I also replaced my wallet. I can put my stupid paper driver's license in it that the state of Washington gives you when you go in to the DMV. The real one comes in the mail a few days down the line. This time I chose a slightly larger wallet that has a little photo section in it for pictures of the baby. :)
We had some friends over who very kindly came despite a hectic day. BBQ pork ribs were eaten, as was potato salad and baked beans, and then she opened her various gifts, including a book and five bucks from her Aunt Doreen, the aforementioned items from her doting moms, and the crowning glory: from Karen and John and wee Baby Katie, a duck on a stick. You push the duck around in front of you and its flappy feet very satisfyingly slap the floor as it waddles on its (purposely) lopsided wheels.
Delia very obligingly yodeled with delight as she raced around the loop (kitchen has doorways at each end, allowing children to run in a circuit through the kitchen and living room, around and around, generally while screaming and giggling; it happens at every family gathering held in our house where two or more children are present, and sometimes even if no other children are present besides Delia). She took the duck, her new best friend, to bed with her.
Lest we, her long-suffering moms, feel slighted, she did seem happy with the pool and also held up her new swimsuit and pronounced it "pretty."
The big family party is next week, a joint party with her cousin Caleb who is turning 7 two weeks from now. So today was rather low-key, especially since her cousins across the street are at the beach this weekend as they always are Memorial Day weekend. But next week -- there will be super festivities. Possibly including a pinata. And definitely the kiddie pool if the weather is warm.
Photos to follow soon! :)
Thursday, May 24, 2007
GRRRRR!
So my wallet went missing. I had it this morning, and then it was just gone.
This is such a colossal pain.
I called and cancelled the three cards in it and tomorrow must go get another driver's license. Eventually I'll have to get all my other stuff replaced, library card, HMO cards for me and the baby, etc.
This thing is, I HAD THE STUPID WALLET IN MY HANDS. I don't remember setting it anywhere strange like the shopping cart or the top of the car, it was in my pocket but now it's noplace it would normally be like the piano or the countertop or anywhere the baby might have squirrelled it away.
GRR!
This is such a colossal pain.
I called and cancelled the three cards in it and tomorrow must go get another driver's license. Eventually I'll have to get all my other stuff replaced, library card, HMO cards for me and the baby, etc.
This thing is, I HAD THE STUPID WALLET IN MY HANDS. I don't remember setting it anywhere strange like the shopping cart or the top of the car, it was in my pocket but now it's noplace it would normally be like the piano or the countertop or anywhere the baby might have squirrelled it away.
GRR!
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Which Ambiguous Dyke Are You?
I'm Velma, which ambiguous dyke are you? Quiz by Turi.
... I'm actually kind of "post-gay," but it was an amusing quiz.
J turned out to be Peppermint Patty.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
An Occasional Game
At our house, we like to play an amusing little game we like to call, "What Is That Smell?"
Recently I bought some packages of chicken and one of them went bad before the sell-by date. I thought it was the other package, which I had opened and used some of, so I threw the remainder of that package away. But the bad smell? Continued. Ugh.
So I searched in vain for more bad meats thinking, it can't be the other package of chicken. But it was. I returned it to the store and got a refund. Bad batch, pulled from shelf, sorry for the inconvenience, etc.
Returned home -- there is still a smell. What the...?! I spend all day sniffing around here and there, inside cupboards, drawers, poking around the kitchen. It smells like sour milk. Maybe the baby has stashed a sippy cup somewhere unusual? I look everywhere. Nothing.
Finally I want a glass of ice water and I go to the fridge which has an ice and water dispenser in the door. The smell is strong here. I glance downward. "HONEY!" I call out, joyfully -- "I FOUND THE BAD SMELL!" J bounds over, giddy with relief that our ordeal is all but over. I wave a hand at the dispenser. "Look!"
Someone -- and I think we all know whom, exactly -- has poured MILK into the little grate under the ice and water dispensers. The grate which covers a shallow well with no drain in it, meant merely to catch what little drips of water or chips of ice may fall while dispensing. The milk has become sour and horrible and practically pulsates with evilness.
Because I have the least sensitive gag reflex, I am elected to clean the mess up. It requires a spoon to remove the scummy, bubbly scab of nastiness, then a sponge and bucket of soapy water to wash out the remaining vile liquid, then a strong household cleaner to finish off the whole cleaning process. I somehow cut myself on the edge of the well and wonder what &%$#@ing moron designs something like this with razor-sharp edges, knowing that it will require occasional cleaning under more typical usage, i.e. even if no-one is pouring milk into it.
My strong constitution plus my mad ninja cleaning skills earn me dinner out.
Recently I bought some packages of chicken and one of them went bad before the sell-by date. I thought it was the other package, which I had opened and used some of, so I threw the remainder of that package away. But the bad smell? Continued. Ugh.
So I searched in vain for more bad meats thinking, it can't be the other package of chicken. But it was. I returned it to the store and got a refund. Bad batch, pulled from shelf, sorry for the inconvenience, etc.
Returned home -- there is still a smell. What the...?! I spend all day sniffing around here and there, inside cupboards, drawers, poking around the kitchen. It smells like sour milk. Maybe the baby has stashed a sippy cup somewhere unusual? I look everywhere. Nothing.
Finally I want a glass of ice water and I go to the fridge which has an ice and water dispenser in the door. The smell is strong here. I glance downward. "HONEY!" I call out, joyfully -- "I FOUND THE BAD SMELL!" J bounds over, giddy with relief that our ordeal is all but over. I wave a hand at the dispenser. "Look!"
Someone -- and I think we all know whom, exactly -- has poured MILK into the little grate under the ice and water dispensers. The grate which covers a shallow well with no drain in it, meant merely to catch what little drips of water or chips of ice may fall while dispensing. The milk has become sour and horrible and practically pulsates with evilness.
Because I have the least sensitive gag reflex, I am elected to clean the mess up. It requires a spoon to remove the scummy, bubbly scab of nastiness, then a sponge and bucket of soapy water to wash out the remaining vile liquid, then a strong household cleaner to finish off the whole cleaning process. I somehow cut myself on the edge of the well and wonder what &%$#@ing moron designs something like this with razor-sharp edges, knowing that it will require occasional cleaning under more typical usage, i.e. even if no-one is pouring milk into it.
My strong constitution plus my mad ninja cleaning skills earn me dinner out.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Death
Friday night I was standing outside after anatomy lecture at the community college, talking to a friend from class, and we heard a man screaming. I mean really screaming. It was coming from an apartment building across the street. We became uneasy and she drove me around the block to my car, worrying if we should call 911, but when we got to my car there were 2 police cars there. One of them pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building so I figured it was handled and drove on home. It's a kind of a rough building, the people living there look as if they are lower-income, possibly formerly homeless, that sort of thing, so I hoped that the man was screaming at his voices or something. Fifteen years of working with the seriously mentally ill kind of inures you to screaming.
In the morning we returned for lab class and there were news crews in the college parking lot. Not a good sign. I checked the internet when I got home.
The man was screaming because someone was murdering him. He died of blunt force trauma. Someone, presumably the suspect, jumped out a 3rd story window to escape and was not caught.
I've been kind of freaked out. There was nothing I could have done. But to know that what I heard was him dying? That's an awful feeling. I hope he's in a better place.
In the morning we returned for lab class and there were news crews in the college parking lot. Not a good sign. I checked the internet when I got home.
The man was screaming because someone was murdering him. He died of blunt force trauma. Someone, presumably the suspect, jumped out a 3rd story window to escape and was not caught.
I've been kind of freaked out. There was nothing I could have done. But to know that what I heard was him dying? That's an awful feeling. I hope he's in a better place.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
News of a general sort
Since it has been some time since I posted, I thought I update you, my faithful reader(s), on the general household news. Mainly this is a ploy to put off cleaning the bunny cage, which is reaching critical mass as we speak. But anyway. *cough cough*
I passed my CNA test and am now a board-certified Certified Nursing Assistant. Whoopty-do! It's a requirement for nursing school, so I had to do it. I looked into an on-call job at one of the area hospitals in the mental health unit just for grins, and it pays to start about what I make working on-call in residential mental health. But goes up from there, whereas I am about topped out in residential. Something to think about.
Speaking of nursing school, I am crossing my fingers that I will be receiving a letter in about a month, telling me I've been accepted into the program that starts in January. I had been all in a lather about getting my transcript to the college in time for selection (April 1st) and then gotten this confusing letter from the Credential Evaluation dept., so I called them to clarify (all was well, no reason to panic) and then asked them oh so casually about my points... I was told by advising that I had 46 (out of 53) and just wanted to confirm this. The friendly and helpful young lady on the phone asked which class they had used to figure up this or that point total etc, and it turned out that I actually have 49 points. Oh, she says, you stand a good chance this time!
So yeah. The mailbox. Haunting. Every day. Even though the theoretical letter wouldn't come for another month or so.
Okay, so you know all the hoopla about the terrible two's and how awful they are? Don't you believe it! The terrible two's got nothing on the almost-3's. Suddenly everything we do is a struggle -- "Baby, come get dressed, we have to leave soon." (Baby runs down the hall laughing. I pursue and capture. Baby cries angrily and kicks her feet. Repeat ad nauseum.) "Baby, come eat your lunch." (Baby refuses and has a tantrum, then demands chocolate milk.) "Baby, don't pull the cat's fur." (Baby then kicks at cat, usually missing, but still.)
Mainly it's the refusal to cooperate when I'm trying to get her out the door that really fries me. Then once we are out she's generally fine. It's just dirty and wrong.
Another fun tradition: lingering in doorways. Like, throwing open the door exposes a brand new world so exciting and beautiful that she can't take it all in and must move so-o-o-o slo-o-o-o-owly as she exits the house (or wherever we are) that I trip over her and no amount of encouragement will expedite this process. This is especially fun at places where there might be others behind us waiting to leave also. Fortunately she is fairly adorable and most people's hearts explode as soon as they look upon her, so we get relatively few dirty looks. But still! Is it so hard to pick up your feet, little girl?!
Nice weather today, maybe I'll get to paint the shed ...
I passed my CNA test and am now a board-certified Certified Nursing Assistant. Whoopty-do! It's a requirement for nursing school, so I had to do it. I looked into an on-call job at one of the area hospitals in the mental health unit just for grins, and it pays to start about what I make working on-call in residential mental health. But goes up from there, whereas I am about topped out in residential. Something to think about.
Speaking of nursing school, I am crossing my fingers that I will be receiving a letter in about a month, telling me I've been accepted into the program that starts in January. I had been all in a lather about getting my transcript to the college in time for selection (April 1st) and then gotten this confusing letter from the Credential Evaluation dept., so I called them to clarify (all was well, no reason to panic) and then asked them oh so casually about my points... I was told by advising that I had 46 (out of 53) and just wanted to confirm this. The friendly and helpful young lady on the phone asked which class they had used to figure up this or that point total etc, and it turned out that I actually have 49 points. Oh, she says, you stand a good chance this time!
So yeah. The mailbox. Haunting. Every day. Even though the theoretical letter wouldn't come for another month or so.
Okay, so you know all the hoopla about the terrible two's and how awful they are? Don't you believe it! The terrible two's got nothing on the almost-3's. Suddenly everything we do is a struggle -- "Baby, come get dressed, we have to leave soon." (Baby runs down the hall laughing. I pursue and capture. Baby cries angrily and kicks her feet. Repeat ad nauseum.) "Baby, come eat your lunch." (Baby refuses and has a tantrum, then demands chocolate milk.) "Baby, don't pull the cat's fur." (Baby then kicks at cat, usually missing, but still.)
Mainly it's the refusal to cooperate when I'm trying to get her out the door that really fries me. Then once we are out she's generally fine. It's just dirty and wrong.
Another fun tradition: lingering in doorways. Like, throwing open the door exposes a brand new world so exciting and beautiful that she can't take it all in and must move so-o-o-o slo-o-o-o-owly as she exits the house (or wherever we are) that I trip over her and no amount of encouragement will expedite this process. This is especially fun at places where there might be others behind us waiting to leave also. Fortunately she is fairly adorable and most people's hearts explode as soon as they look upon her, so we get relatively few dirty looks. But still! Is it so hard to pick up your feet, little girl?!
Nice weather today, maybe I'll get to paint the shed ...
Monday, April 09, 2007
Easter, Anger, Canoe
First off: Easter was fun. Delia got a big basket of mostly toys from the very wise Easter Bunny who knew that she would get roughly forty-seven thousand pounds of candy from other sources. Sure enough, at egg hunts on Saturday (Grandma's) and Sunday (church), she got her fill of magic beans (her far superior name for otherwise ordinary jelly beans), chocolate foil-wrapped goodies, and the like. Someone fed her a chocolate-iced cupcake at the fellowship hour afterward, which she very sportingly ate in the manner of Henry the Eighth, even wearing a delightful goatee afterward. I will post the photo as soon as it makes its way to me. Last year she ate a cupcake no-hands-style, a photo of which ended up in the church newsletter. The tradition lives on!
Today J went to look at a canoe from an ad on craigslist. The seller was not home but someone else showed her the canoe, which she agreed to buy and offered to leave money down on it while she ran home to get the other car, some tie-downs, etc. No need, said the fellow.
We showed up at the house as planned only to find the canoe being loaded into somebody else's truck.
She jumps out and says, "I told the guy I was coming for it."
"Yeah," said the seller, "but you didn't leave any money." (In snotty tone of voice, as if this was the stupidest thing ever.)
"I offered to leave some but he said I didn't need to!" she protested. "I told him I'd be back with the other car. He said that was fine."
"Well, why didn't you bring the other car in the first place?" says the snotty jerk seller. (WTF does that have to do with anything?! We showed up at the exact same time as the other guy!)
"I was calling from work," says J, and gets disgustedly back in the car. We drive off angrily.
You know, that would have been a totally different experience if he'd just said something like, "Oh gosh, I'm sorry for the miscommunication but the guy that was here was supposed to take a deposit for it if you were going to have to come back later." Like, would that have been so damn hard, Mr. Jerkface Seller? He was so snotty I'm glad he didn't get our money for his stupid canoe.
So we drove on to a large, well-known local retailer and purchased a nicer and larger (and new) model of the canoe from them. Last year's model, virtually identical to this year's, but on clearance. J has this kind of luck where we show up to buy something and find it's on clearance, often not learning this until it has been rung up. We call it Secret Sale. Also, because we bought a boat, all boating accessories were ten percent off, so we got paddles and life jackets. All told we spent about 200 dollars more than we would have spent for the other boat -- but a) we got a nice new one, b) it has backrests and other niceties, and c) we didn't hand our money over to a total dickwad.
We even got the baby her own little paddle. And an adorable life jacket. Far cry from those ugly orange ones we had to wear as kids!
Today J went to look at a canoe from an ad on craigslist. The seller was not home but someone else showed her the canoe, which she agreed to buy and offered to leave money down on it while she ran home to get the other car, some tie-downs, etc. No need, said the fellow.
We showed up at the house as planned only to find the canoe being loaded into somebody else's truck.
She jumps out and says, "I told the guy I was coming for it."
"Yeah," said the seller, "but you didn't leave any money." (In snotty tone of voice, as if this was the stupidest thing ever.)
"I offered to leave some but he said I didn't need to!" she protested. "I told him I'd be back with the other car. He said that was fine."
"Well, why didn't you bring the other car in the first place?" says the snotty jerk seller. (WTF does that have to do with anything?! We showed up at the exact same time as the other guy!)
"I was calling from work," says J, and gets disgustedly back in the car. We drive off angrily.
You know, that would have been a totally different experience if he'd just said something like, "Oh gosh, I'm sorry for the miscommunication but the guy that was here was supposed to take a deposit for it if you were going to have to come back later." Like, would that have been so damn hard, Mr. Jerkface Seller? He was so snotty I'm glad he didn't get our money for his stupid canoe.
So we drove on to a large, well-known local retailer and purchased a nicer and larger (and new) model of the canoe from them. Last year's model, virtually identical to this year's, but on clearance. J has this kind of luck where we show up to buy something and find it's on clearance, often not learning this until it has been rung up. We call it Secret Sale. Also, because we bought a boat, all boating accessories were ten percent off, so we got paddles and life jackets. All told we spent about 200 dollars more than we would have spent for the other boat -- but a) we got a nice new one, b) it has backrests and other niceties, and c) we didn't hand our money over to a total dickwad.
We even got the baby her own little paddle. And an adorable life jacket. Far cry from those ugly orange ones we had to wear as kids!
Friday, April 06, 2007
Gaaaah!
I just read on the college website that it will be about EIGHT WEEKS before I am notified whether or not I got in to the nursing program!
EIGHT WEEKS! DON'T THESE PEOPLE KNOW THAT I COULD EASILY DIE OF ANTICIPATION IN EIGHT LONG WEEKS OF WAITING AROUND FOR THEIR STUPID LETTER!!!!
EIGHT WEEKS?!!! WHAT KIND OF SADISTS ARE THEY?!
EIGHT WEEKS! DON'T THESE PEOPLE KNOW THAT I COULD EASILY DIE OF ANTICIPATION IN EIGHT LONG WEEKS OF WAITING AROUND FOR THEIR STUPID LETTER!!!!
EIGHT WEEKS?!!! WHAT KIND OF SADISTS ARE THEY?!
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Shed! Bunnies! Helping!
J's brother is here building us a shed and doing various other jobs. He is a very skilled carpenter and has made us the cutest, snuggest little shed ever. As I blog this, he is out putting up gutters on the patio roof and the shed. He even built a little fence to keep the dogs away from the back fence! They like to go back there and bellow at the neighbors behind us, a practice that I find odious and beating-worthy. Alas, due to societal pressures not to inflict violence on others, am restricted to yelling and shaking my fist. Stupid non-violence.
We took the bunnies out yesterday for their first ever lawn excursion! The wire enclosure is finally free for use since it is no longer serving as our hillbilly gate (as J's brother crafted two wonderful gates for us his first day here). They were unhappy about how much J's brother's dog Busty wanted to eat them -- he was literally drooling as he watched them -- but seemed to enjoy the grass and the sun and all that.
Note the ugly bald patch on Exidor's back. It has started to grow back since we began putting more toys in the cage, so I'm pretty sure it was just that Cleo was grooming it off of him. She's very energetic.
The baby wanted to help so J's brother let her do various things. He's really great with kids. She also wanted to play with her bunnies so we let her be in with them for a few minutes. Tempting as it is, we do not generally keep her in a pen.... Note the shed in background. It will be painted a lovely green with blue trim, since trying to match it with the house didn't really work out. The siding on the house is nice but as a paint color, it would have been a murky blueish-gray. Ick. So J said I could paint it as I like! She is both kind and brave. There is a ladder rack on the long side against the fence, and there will be a 2x2' window on the long side in the photo. J's brother has a place he likes to get them for cheap so he roughed in the hole and he'll just saw out the siding and put the window in next time he's here.
Three more days of CNA class and then the board exam is the 21st of this month. Yay!
We took the bunnies out yesterday for their first ever lawn excursion! The wire enclosure is finally free for use since it is no longer serving as our hillbilly gate (as J's brother crafted two wonderful gates for us his first day here). They were unhappy about how much J's brother's dog Busty wanted to eat them -- he was literally drooling as he watched them -- but seemed to enjoy the grass and the sun and all that.
Note the ugly bald patch on Exidor's back. It has started to grow back since we began putting more toys in the cage, so I'm pretty sure it was just that Cleo was grooming it off of him. She's very energetic.
The baby wanted to help so J's brother let her do various things. He's really great with kids. She also wanted to play with her bunnies so we let her be in with them for a few minutes. Tempting as it is, we do not generally keep her in a pen.... Note the shed in background. It will be painted a lovely green with blue trim, since trying to match it with the house didn't really work out. The siding on the house is nice but as a paint color, it would have been a murky blueish-gray. Ick. So J said I could paint it as I like! She is both kind and brave. There is a ladder rack on the long side against the fence, and there will be a 2x2' window on the long side in the photo. J's brother has a place he likes to get them for cheap so he roughed in the hole and he'll just saw out the siding and put the window in next time he's here.
Three more days of CNA class and then the board exam is the 21st of this month. Yay!
Clarification
To clarify previous post, I have 46 points as of this evaluation. The other points from the CNA course and the third term of A&P will not count for this evaluation since they will not be completed by last Sunday.
Am now haunting mailbox despite how utterly unrealistic it is to expect any news this early.
Am now haunting mailbox despite how utterly unrealistic it is to expect any news this early.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Nurst
Okay, so we calculated my nursing school admission requirement points as of the end of last term. I have 46 out of 53. Gaining my certification as a nursing assistant gives me four more points, and getting an A next term would bring me up all the way to the full 53.
J showed me the statistics about admission points for the past couple of evaluation periods and 100% of applicants with 46 points and above were admitted, in both periods. A fairly decent percentage (40ish, 50ish) of applicants with either 44 or 43 and above were admitted. The tiebreaking factor is a log-in date of application and I am not sure where my log-in date stands compared to others.
At any rate, it looks like I'm in... I should know in a week or two. I would start Winter term (January 2008).
GAAAAAAAAH!
J showed me the statistics about admission points for the past couple of evaluation periods and 100% of applicants with 46 points and above were admitted, in both periods. A fairly decent percentage (40ish, 50ish) of applicants with either 44 or 43 and above were admitted. The tiebreaking factor is a log-in date of application and I am not sure where my log-in date stands compared to others.
At any rate, it looks like I'm in... I should know in a week or two. I would start Winter term (January 2008).
GAAAAAAAAH!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Bunny Baldness
So poor Exidor is suffering from some baldness on his back, in an area he can't reach easily. I waded through some truly heartbreaking photos and descriptions of various bunny skin diseases on the internet, but none matched his symptoms: he has no redness, no itching, no crusty stuff anywhere. Just a big and ever expanding bald area on his back.
Turns out overgrooming by a bonded mate can cause this... and I have seen Cleo groom him pretty obsessively. And they are definitely bonded. They sleep in a little pile and groom one another all the time. I had suspected she might be just wearing his fur right off but wanted to get some validation elsewhere. The cure: exercise, toys, distractions. So, we are going to borrow a no-longer-needed kid enclosure that we're pretty sure J's sister still has and see if that contains them, and if not we'll find something else for the indoor exercise. I want something kind of enclosure-y because I find that just cordoning off part of the house is not sufficient, in that it takes me twenty minutes to catch the little dears when it's time for them to go back into their hutch.
Hurrah! He doesn't have the mange!
Turns out overgrooming by a bonded mate can cause this... and I have seen Cleo groom him pretty obsessively. And they are definitely bonded. They sleep in a little pile and groom one another all the time. I had suspected she might be just wearing his fur right off but wanted to get some validation elsewhere. The cure: exercise, toys, distractions. So, we are going to borrow a no-longer-needed kid enclosure that we're pretty sure J's sister still has and see if that contains them, and if not we'll find something else for the indoor exercise. I want something kind of enclosure-y because I find that just cordoning off part of the house is not sufficient, in that it takes me twenty minutes to catch the little dears when it's time for them to go back into their hutch.
Hurrah! He doesn't have the mange!
The Oregon Coast
Went on the long-awaited beach weekend, all excited about puttering around on the shore picking up the drab shells and sand dollars between rainstorms.
Oh yeah, speaking of rainstorms? Came home early.
We were prepared for some rain, but not the constant, relentless monsooning we encountered. And which would have been kind of groovy except that staying all day with an almost-3-year-old in a motel room with no outlet for her boundless energy makes pretty much any potentially groovy circumstance Not So Groovy. We found ourselves out of dry clothes by Saturday afternoon and once it occurred to us that we were watching videos, napping, snacking, and playing with the computer, just like we do at home but at exorbitant beach prices, we decided to cut it short. So we drove home through the pouring, blowing rain.
And found that our babysitter had a) dyed her hair in our bathroom and dripped it onto the rug, and b) stolen prescription painkillers from us at some point in the past two weeks. (Hey, little word of advice: two or three pills missing from a bottle containing 15 would maybe not be noticed, but if you leave only four in the bottle -- yeah, not such a great idea, Mandy... or whichever of your little friends you might have had over. Either way, you're not coming back here. We don't need people like you or your friends around our stuff, or more importantly, our kid.)*
Great weekend huh?
On the brighter side, I just checked my grades and found that I got an A. :)
Oh yeah, speaking of rainstorms? Came home early.
We were prepared for some rain, but not the constant, relentless monsooning we encountered. And which would have been kind of groovy except that staying all day with an almost-3-year-old in a motel room with no outlet for her boundless energy makes pretty much any potentially groovy circumstance Not So Groovy. We found ourselves out of dry clothes by Saturday afternoon and once it occurred to us that we were watching videos, napping, snacking, and playing with the computer, just like we do at home but at exorbitant beach prices, we decided to cut it short. So we drove home through the pouring, blowing rain.
And found that our babysitter had a) dyed her hair in our bathroom and dripped it onto the rug, and b) stolen prescription painkillers from us at some point in the past two weeks. (Hey, little word of advice: two or three pills missing from a bottle containing 15 would maybe not be noticed, but if you leave only four in the bottle -- yeah, not such a great idea, Mandy... or whichever of your little friends you might have had over. Either way, you're not coming back here. We don't need people like you or your friends around our stuff, or more importantly, our kid.)*
Great weekend huh?
On the brighter side, I just checked my grades and found that I got an A. :)
Thursday, March 22, 2007
The Milton Flip
Okay, so I started Certified Nursing Assistant training this week. I'm taking it at a small, homey trade school with a fantastic success rate, run by an "I'm everybody's grandma" type woman who used to be a tester for the certification board so she clearly knows what she's doing.
The school is housed in a former cheap motel that has been converted to offices and is decorated in Middle America I Shop At Wal-Mart And Believe That Scented Candles And Tabletop Fountains Are The Height Of Home Decor. Seriously, you walk in the door and --I'm so not making this up -- there is a scented candle AND a tabletop fountain going in EVERY ROOM. Including both bathrooms. Incidentally, there is a Wal-Mart literally across the street.
We started right in with the pleasantries: Hi how are you, here's your packet, watch this industrial film about The Role Of The Certified Nursing Assistant ("Not Just A Glorified Lackey, But Also One Who Makes 25 Cents an Hour More Than An Uncertified Nursing Assistant"), and then let's learn peri-care on this (also not making this up but wish I was) anatomically correct mannequin.
Peri-care, for those of you fortunate enough not to know, means perineal care. Perineal means "extremely personal private regions south of your belt buckle." The east 40 and the west 40. The whole damn enchilada. Or taquito.
(Disclaimer: Now, I'm writing this from the part of me that is still reeling from having to think about cleaning anyone's goodies but my own, and of course the baby's. The higher-functioning, future-nurse part of my brain has already moved on to more sensible ways of thinking, along the lines of, it's all just anatomy, input/output, part of the patient, needs to be dealt with discreetly and compassionately, etc. etc. But that junior-high eeeeeeuw! corner of my inner self is writing this currently, so rest assured that I will not betray or acknowledge any part of this as the nurse I will become. Honestly, I was in the hospital for 48 hours and gave birth in front of other people, some of them total strangers, and then sat there joking with the person who sewed up the damages, so this is really not a big deal. Except that I must bring it to you, my faithful reader(s), in shocking detail, for full dramatic and humorous effect. /End Disclaimer)
So, after introductions were made and the recent yet gloriously dated film was watched, we trooped down the hall and a very pretty, very fashionable, very young woman demonstrated peri-care on the aforementioned mannequin. Between the homey-yet-stagey setting and the harsh lighting, I felt as if someone would be coming by later after closing, perhaps to film some amateur porn. We were introduced to the mannequin "Billy" and shown how to give Billy's junk a bit of a wash. Yeah. Junk. Junk that can be swapped out for male junk with a mere riiiiip of velcro. Voila! Billy becomes Bill! Whichever bit of junk not in use is stored in a handy compartment in the abdomen.
Did I mention that the class that started on Monday consisted of me and two men? Uh-huh. Um, yay?
One of those men is a really nice guy who is a very young father of six with no. 7 on the way. I like him and he's smart and polite and clearly got his head on straight, other than evidently not fully understanding where babies come from.
The other man? That would be Milton.
If you are familiar with the actor Jerry Van Dyke, you may understand this reference: if Luther Van Damme went to CNA school, he'd be Milton.
Yeah, that peri-care thing? Should have taken each of us, with coaching from the instructor and the usual studently ineptitude and dumb questions, around ten minutes. Milton volunteered to be first and half an hour later he finally managed to complete the task and let the next person give it a shot. The real sticking point had to do with how to fold a washrag into a sort of a mitt on your hand and thereby create several surfaces that can each be used once on an area. Then part of the mitt is flipped over your (latex-gloved) fingers to expose a new clean area. This flip part, really more of a pulling-over, became a total ordeal. I thought the instructor was either going to throw down her clipboard and take up strong drink or else start looking around for hidden cameras. You'd have thought Milton was reviewing a complicated brain-surgery technique from the excruciating and repetitive detail he went into to try to master this skill. I am pretty sure the dummy was about to lunge off the bed and strangle him with his/her stiff, rubbery hands if he'd gone on much longer about it.
So now when I'm practicing any kind of washing skill (peri- or otherwise) I secretly call it "the Milton Flip" when I pull the washrag-mitt over my fingers to expose a clean surface.
The school is housed in a former cheap motel that has been converted to offices and is decorated in Middle America I Shop At Wal-Mart And Believe That Scented Candles And Tabletop Fountains Are The Height Of Home Decor. Seriously, you walk in the door and --I'm so not making this up -- there is a scented candle AND a tabletop fountain going in EVERY ROOM. Including both bathrooms. Incidentally, there is a Wal-Mart literally across the street.
We started right in with the pleasantries: Hi how are you, here's your packet, watch this industrial film about The Role Of The Certified Nursing Assistant ("Not Just A Glorified Lackey, But Also One Who Makes 25 Cents an Hour More Than An Uncertified Nursing Assistant"), and then let's learn peri-care on this (also not making this up but wish I was) anatomically correct mannequin.
Peri-care, for those of you fortunate enough not to know, means perineal care. Perineal means "extremely personal private regions south of your belt buckle." The east 40 and the west 40. The whole damn enchilada. Or taquito.
(Disclaimer: Now, I'm writing this from the part of me that is still reeling from having to think about cleaning anyone's goodies but my own, and of course the baby's. The higher-functioning, future-nurse part of my brain has already moved on to more sensible ways of thinking, along the lines of, it's all just anatomy, input/output, part of the patient, needs to be dealt with discreetly and compassionately, etc. etc. But that junior-high eeeeeeuw! corner of my inner self is writing this currently, so rest assured that I will not betray or acknowledge any part of this as the nurse I will become. Honestly, I was in the hospital for 48 hours and gave birth in front of other people, some of them total strangers, and then sat there joking with the person who sewed up the damages, so this is really not a big deal. Except that I must bring it to you, my faithful reader(s), in shocking detail, for full dramatic and humorous effect. /End Disclaimer)
So, after introductions were made and the recent yet gloriously dated film was watched, we trooped down the hall and a very pretty, very fashionable, very young woman demonstrated peri-care on the aforementioned mannequin. Between the homey-yet-stagey setting and the harsh lighting, I felt as if someone would be coming by later after closing, perhaps to film some amateur porn. We were introduced to the mannequin "Billy" and shown how to give Billy's junk a bit of a wash. Yeah. Junk. Junk that can be swapped out for male junk with a mere riiiiip of velcro. Voila! Billy becomes Bill! Whichever bit of junk not in use is stored in a handy compartment in the abdomen.
Did I mention that the class that started on Monday consisted of me and two men? Uh-huh. Um, yay?
One of those men is a really nice guy who is a very young father of six with no. 7 on the way. I like him and he's smart and polite and clearly got his head on straight, other than evidently not fully understanding where babies come from.
The other man? That would be Milton.
If you are familiar with the actor Jerry Van Dyke, you may understand this reference: if Luther Van Damme went to CNA school, he'd be Milton.
Yeah, that peri-care thing? Should have taken each of us, with coaching from the instructor and the usual studently ineptitude and dumb questions, around ten minutes. Milton volunteered to be first and half an hour later he finally managed to complete the task and let the next person give it a shot. The real sticking point had to do with how to fold a washrag into a sort of a mitt on your hand and thereby create several surfaces that can each be used once on an area. Then part of the mitt is flipped over your (latex-gloved) fingers to expose a new clean area. This flip part, really more of a pulling-over, became a total ordeal. I thought the instructor was either going to throw down her clipboard and take up strong drink or else start looking around for hidden cameras. You'd have thought Milton was reviewing a complicated brain-surgery technique from the excruciating and repetitive detail he went into to try to master this skill. I am pretty sure the dummy was about to lunge off the bed and strangle him with his/her stiff, rubbery hands if he'd gone on much longer about it.
So now when I'm practicing any kind of washing skill (peri- or otherwise) I secretly call it "the Milton Flip" when I pull the washrag-mitt over my fingers to expose a clean surface.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Finals
Finals went well. Only a few questions I had doubts about on the lab final, and I had a good idea of what they probably were, so I think I did well overall. The lecture final I think I did fine with, although sometimes I get dinged a half a point here and a half a point there for little things.
So, I think the chances are likely that I got an A in the class.
Of course, between alternately studying and feeding my WoW addiction, I was up til close to 1am Friday night (yes, technically Saturday morning) and then got up four hours later to do some last minute cramming of the minute detail stuff that likes to fall out of your brain when you sleep. Like, the names of the layers of an artery wall. I knew there were three layers of tissue and two layers of elastic material in an artery, but couldn't remember their names. Sure enough, she dragged out the giant model of blood vessels and we had to name the middle layer (tunica media) and the innermost coating of a vein (endothelium). See, now, if I hadn't suddenly gotten a wild hair about looking those up in the parking lot right before I went into the exam, I would have missed them! Providential.
Then we drove off to the farm for some birthday partying and some cow birthing. J's sister is a sort of a country vet and her husband is a truck driving, mule breeding, elk hunting type of guy. They have about 50 acres and on those acres you can usually find an interesting assortment of critters: llamas, chickens, a goat, a few cows, some mules, horses, a donkey or two, maybe a pig or three... some of the stock kind of rotates, rescue animals and the like, while others are permanent fixtures. They have three cows right now and yesterday morning one of them calved. Another of them, an enormous animal, was carrying twins and ready to pop, and went into labor while we were there. Amy had already decided that when the cow went into labor she was going to pull the calves out because this cow had lost her last calves due to a difficult birth and she didn't want to lose these two also. So, while everyone watched in horror and amazement, that's just what she did. And two little brown and white calves came into the world.
Actually, I missed the whole thing. I took the baby and one of her cousins up to the house to use the potty and once we got up there, neither wanted to leave, so I sat in a recliner and read a Mule Enthusiasts Quarterly or some such while the girls played. We headed back down just in time to see Jim carrying the second calf to the pen from the chute where they had put the cow to do her calving.
We're wondering what the entertainment will be for the next birthday party.
So, I think the chances are likely that I got an A in the class.
Of course, between alternately studying and feeding my WoW addiction, I was up til close to 1am Friday night (yes, technically Saturday morning) and then got up four hours later to do some last minute cramming of the minute detail stuff that likes to fall out of your brain when you sleep. Like, the names of the layers of an artery wall. I knew there were three layers of tissue and two layers of elastic material in an artery, but couldn't remember their names. Sure enough, she dragged out the giant model of blood vessels and we had to name the middle layer (tunica media) and the innermost coating of a vein (endothelium). See, now, if I hadn't suddenly gotten a wild hair about looking those up in the parking lot right before I went into the exam, I would have missed them! Providential.
Then we drove off to the farm for some birthday partying and some cow birthing. J's sister is a sort of a country vet and her husband is a truck driving, mule breeding, elk hunting type of guy. They have about 50 acres and on those acres you can usually find an interesting assortment of critters: llamas, chickens, a goat, a few cows, some mules, horses, a donkey or two, maybe a pig or three... some of the stock kind of rotates, rescue animals and the like, while others are permanent fixtures. They have three cows right now and yesterday morning one of them calved. Another of them, an enormous animal, was carrying twins and ready to pop, and went into labor while we were there. Amy had already decided that when the cow went into labor she was going to pull the calves out because this cow had lost her last calves due to a difficult birth and she didn't want to lose these two also. So, while everyone watched in horror and amazement, that's just what she did. And two little brown and white calves came into the world.
Actually, I missed the whole thing. I took the baby and one of her cousins up to the house to use the potty and once we got up there, neither wanted to leave, so I sat in a recliner and read a Mule Enthusiasts Quarterly or some such while the girls played. We headed back down just in time to see Jim carrying the second calf to the pen from the chute where they had put the cow to do her calving.
We're wondering what the entertainment will be for the next birthday party.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Saturday Suckathon
Okay, so today? Today I have two finals. Anatomy & physiology lecture and lab finals both, back to back. Normally I'd have just the lab one today and the lecture one next Friday, but we are going to the beach next weekend and I kind of scheduled that before I consulted the syllabus. Whoops.
And, I was supposed to have the rest of the day to spend at my leisure, alone, doing as I pleased, but for reasons beyond my control I am obliged to then immediately get into the car and drive about an hour and a half each way to a family birthday party. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that I am resentful of having to go -- these people do the same for my child, and it's family, blah blah blah, but dammit -- I'M TIRED. I just took my FINALS. Let. Me. REST!!!!
Then on Sunday I'll be headed to church and then probably going insane with the laundry and the housekeeping and yadda yadda yadda because on Monday? Oh, on Monday I'm starting the Certified Nurse's Assistant course. Which I must take to get into nursing school. Otherwise I would never in a million gazillion years take it, because at the end of the course and after passing a board certification exam I would earn the right to engage in laborious back-breaking work for a measly 8 bucks an hour or something similar. See for yourself. Look! After twenty years of doing this, you might make 32k/year! Wowee!
The good news is that I will not have to work as a CNA, it wouldn't have any bearing on the points-based system for entrance into the nursing school of my choice and I make more as a mental health on-call anyway. And, a neighbor who lives three houses away will take care of the baby. She has watched her before and could use the extra income, so I'm happy to help her out with that and that the baby won't have to go to some scary daycare that she doesn't know. They can even come here and play with the baby's own toys and stuff sometimes if she gets whiny about wanting to go home. It all fell into place one day not quite two weeks ago. I'm glad to get it over with too, but man, three weeks of Monday-through-Friday 9am to 2pm... Ick.
But if I get an A in A&P this term and next, and get my CNA certification, I'll have the maximum points to get into nursing school. :) Yay me! So far I have a 92 average in the lab and lecture both, so I am hoping to pull off the A this term.
Back to the books.
I can't help but look on what little effing bright side there is here: in 7 hours I'll be done with finals and I'll get to spend the first two weeks of CNA class not worrying about anatomy class.
And, I was supposed to have the rest of the day to spend at my leisure, alone, doing as I pleased, but for reasons beyond my control I am obliged to then immediately get into the car and drive about an hour and a half each way to a family birthday party. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that I am resentful of having to go -- these people do the same for my child, and it's family, blah blah blah, but dammit -- I'M TIRED. I just took my FINALS. Let. Me. REST!!!!
Then on Sunday I'll be headed to church and then probably going insane with the laundry and the housekeeping and yadda yadda yadda because on Monday? Oh, on Monday I'm starting the Certified Nurse's Assistant course. Which I must take to get into nursing school. Otherwise I would never in a million gazillion years take it, because at the end of the course and after passing a board certification exam I would earn the right to engage in laborious back-breaking work for a measly 8 bucks an hour or something similar. See for yourself. Look! After twenty years of doing this, you might make 32k/year! Wowee!
The good news is that I will not have to work as a CNA, it wouldn't have any bearing on the points-based system for entrance into the nursing school of my choice and I make more as a mental health on-call anyway. And, a neighbor who lives three houses away will take care of the baby. She has watched her before and could use the extra income, so I'm happy to help her out with that and that the baby won't have to go to some scary daycare that she doesn't know. They can even come here and play with the baby's own toys and stuff sometimes if she gets whiny about wanting to go home. It all fell into place one day not quite two weeks ago. I'm glad to get it over with too, but man, three weeks of Monday-through-Friday 9am to 2pm... Ick.
But if I get an A in A&P this term and next, and get my CNA certification, I'll have the maximum points to get into nursing school. :) Yay me! So far I have a 92 average in the lab and lecture both, so I am hoping to pull off the A this term.
Back to the books.
I can't help but look on what little effing bright side there is here: in 7 hours I'll be done with finals and I'll get to spend the first two weeks of CNA class not worrying about anatomy class.
Friday, March 09, 2007
OMG!!!! I did it!
I sent my dad an email about the offensive emails he sends me! Because he recently sent me an email that I did not find particularly offensive, but just didn't feel could be true. Here is the link debunking that email:
http://www.snopes.com/military/marvin.asp
So I composed a brief, hopefully not-too-inflammatory email to Dad about how not everything you read on the internet is true and included the URL. Then, I figured as long as I was going to do it I might as well do it right, so I mentioned the other email that I blogged about a while ago in this post and sent links about it from snopes.com also.
I began a bit of a blather about how offensive it is when someone tries to attribute suicide to permissive parenting but then decided I'd done enough damage for one night and wrapped it up without any such soapboxing.
Guess what kind of reaction I will get. Go ahead, guess!
None whatsoever. If he reads the links I'll bet you cash money that he won't believe any of it and will never say anything to me about it one way or the other.
It's a bet I'd love to lose.
http://www.snopes.com/military/marvin.asp
So I composed a brief, hopefully not-too-inflammatory email to Dad about how not everything you read on the internet is true and included the URL. Then, I figured as long as I was going to do it I might as well do it right, so I mentioned the other email that I blogged about a while ago in this post and sent links about it from snopes.com also.
I began a bit of a blather about how offensive it is when someone tries to attribute suicide to permissive parenting but then decided I'd done enough damage for one night and wrapped it up without any such soapboxing.
Guess what kind of reaction I will get. Go ahead, guess!
None whatsoever. If he reads the links I'll bet you cash money that he won't believe any of it and will never say anything to me about it one way or the other.
It's a bet I'd love to lose.
Meme Madness!
Another meme from yellojkt.
A- Available or Single? Nope! Been together 8 years.
B- Best Friend? My wife.
C- Cake or Pie? Must I choose?
D- Drink of Choice? Coke. But Diet Cherry Pepsi if I'm avoiding sugar.
E- Essential Item? My laptop.
F- Favorite Color? Probably blue... green... purple...
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Gummi bears, though I'm not that fond of either since there is little if any chocolate involved.
H- Hometown? Military brat, but I consider Portland (Oregon) my hometown.
I- Indulgence? Not enough room to list them all... Probably World of Warcraft.
J- January or February? September! I love fall.
K- Kids and Names? One, daughter Delia.
L- Life is incomplete without…? Friends and family.
M- Marriage Date? We have two: Dec. 31, 1999, and March 5, 2004.
N- Number of Siblings? One brother.
O- Oranges or Apples? Mandarin oranges, good crisp Fuji or Braeburn apples.
P- Phobias/Fears? Too many to list...
Q- Favorite Quote? "Beware the lollipop of mediocrity: lick it once and you'll suck forever."
R- Reasons to smile? Good music, funny comics, little kids.
S- Season? Fall. I love the get-down-to-business, new crayons and school shoes feel of the world, and the crispness in the air and the leaves.
T- Tag 3 people? I am too lazy to tag. :) ... Oh, all right: Mel and Liz.
U- Unknown Fact About Me? I think I'm easygoing but I'm really not.
V- Vegetable You Hate? Hot chili peppers.
W- Worst Habit? Staying up too late.
X- Xrays You’ve Had? Many, many, many. Starting with full-body x-rays as an infant when they found a benign bone tumor in my leg. It was a variety that generally appears all over the place but I had only one. Since then, many clumsy accidents and the occasional bout of pneumonia have exposed me to more radiation than is probably healthy, including once when I swallowed a fish bone and they x-rayed me to see if it was stuck in my throat. It was not still there but the scratch it made was painful.
Y- Your Favorite Foods? Pizza, shrimp, chocolate, a good steak.
Z- Zodiac? Virgo, Year of the Sheep.
A- Available or Single? Nope! Been together 8 years.
B- Best Friend? My wife.
C- Cake or Pie? Must I choose?
D- Drink of Choice? Coke. But Diet Cherry Pepsi if I'm avoiding sugar.
E- Essential Item? My laptop.
F- Favorite Color? Probably blue... green... purple...
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Gummi bears, though I'm not that fond of either since there is little if any chocolate involved.
H- Hometown? Military brat, but I consider Portland (Oregon) my hometown.
I- Indulgence? Not enough room to list them all... Probably World of Warcraft.
J- January or February? September! I love fall.
K- Kids and Names? One, daughter Delia.
L- Life is incomplete without…? Friends and family.
M- Marriage Date? We have two: Dec. 31, 1999, and March 5, 2004.
N- Number of Siblings? One brother.
O- Oranges or Apples? Mandarin oranges, good crisp Fuji or Braeburn apples.
P- Phobias/Fears? Too many to list...
Q- Favorite Quote? "Beware the lollipop of mediocrity: lick it once and you'll suck forever."
R- Reasons to smile? Good music, funny comics, little kids.
S- Season? Fall. I love the get-down-to-business, new crayons and school shoes feel of the world, and the crispness in the air and the leaves.
T- Tag 3 people? I am too lazy to tag. :) ... Oh, all right: Mel and Liz.
U- Unknown Fact About Me? I think I'm easygoing but I'm really not.
V- Vegetable You Hate? Hot chili peppers.
W- Worst Habit? Staying up too late.
X- Xrays You’ve Had? Many, many, many. Starting with full-body x-rays as an infant when they found a benign bone tumor in my leg. It was a variety that generally appears all over the place but I had only one. Since then, many clumsy accidents and the occasional bout of pneumonia have exposed me to more radiation than is probably healthy, including once when I swallowed a fish bone and they x-rayed me to see if it was stuck in my throat. It was not still there but the scratch it made was painful.
Y- Your Favorite Foods? Pizza, shrimp, chocolate, a good steak.
Z- Zodiac? Virgo, Year of the Sheep.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Meme mayhem!
THE BOOK MEME! Courtesy of yellojkt (who calls 'em as he sees 'em)
* Science Fiction, Fantasy or Horror? Science fiction and/or fantasy. I used to read some Steven King but haven't in a long time (like nearly twenty years), that was about it for horror.
* Hardback or Trade Paperback or Mass Market Paperback? Prefer trade paperback but hardback for the real "keepers."
* Amazon or Brick and Mortar? Amazon if I know exactly what I want and don't think it will be at the bookstore; otherwise bookstore.
* Barnes & Noble or Borders? Aren't they more or less interchangeable? I like to browse used bookstores and thriftstores, also Powell's is just across the river although it's gotten kind of expensive.
* Hitchhiker or Discworld? Hitchhiker. Have never read Discworld.
* Bookmark or Dogear? Bookmark. The one exception is if the page has been pre-dogeared.
* Magazine: Asimov’s Science Fiction or Fantasy & Science Fiction? Uh, I guess I'm not a big enough nerd/dork/geek/whatever to have read these magazines.
* Alphabetize by author, Alphabetize by title, or random? Generally, genre and then by author or at least in a visually attractive manner. I used to be a page (book-shelver) at the library so I know my craft, but I'm just not that anal about them at home.
* Keep, Throw Away or Sell? Keep the ones I can't live without, sell the rest.
* Keep dust-jacket or toss it? Keep unless it's already tatty.
* Read with dustjacket or remove it? Remove, because otherwise it drives me insane.
* Short story or novel? Novel. A good short story just leaves me wanting more anyway.
* Harry Potter or Lemony Snicket? I read a little Lemony and it just didn't appeal to me. I'm a bit fanatic about Harry Potter though... :)
* Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks? Usually when tired but I try to make it to chapter break if possible.
* "It was a dark and stormy night" or "Once upon a time?" Either.
* Buy or Borrow? Buy if it's important enough, borrow if it's just recreational. I can't afford the expense or the space to store books I may or may not love.
* Buying choice: Book Reviews, Recommendation or Browse? Browse and some reviews.
* Lewis or Tolkien? Both for very different reasons.
* Collection (short stories by the same author) or Anthology (short stories by different authors)? I'm not that into short stories, so neither.
* Tidy ending or Cliffhanger? Tidy ending please.
* Morning reading, Afternoon reading or Nighttime reading? Nighttime, but all day if it's a good one and I can find other times to read than just before bed.
* Standalone or Series? Either if they are good, but most series should really only run a few books long and then stop. These ones with 47 books in them are usually pretty formulaic after the first few.
* Favorite book of which nobody else has heard? : Sexing the Cherry" by Jeannette Winterson
* Top 5 favorite genre books of all time? Too much to think about, I don't read all these genres.
o Classic Science fiction:
o Modern Science Fiction:
o Classic Fantasy: Lord Of The Rings
o Modern Fantasy:
o Mystery:
o Thriller:
* Favorite genre series?
* Currently Reading? Um... mostly textbooks currently.
* Science Fiction, Fantasy or Horror? Science fiction and/or fantasy. I used to read some Steven King but haven't in a long time (like nearly twenty years), that was about it for horror.
* Hardback or Trade Paperback or Mass Market Paperback? Prefer trade paperback but hardback for the real "keepers."
* Amazon or Brick and Mortar? Amazon if I know exactly what I want and don't think it will be at the bookstore; otherwise bookstore.
* Barnes & Noble or Borders? Aren't they more or less interchangeable? I like to browse used bookstores and thriftstores, also Powell's is just across the river although it's gotten kind of expensive.
* Hitchhiker or Discworld? Hitchhiker. Have never read Discworld.
* Bookmark or Dogear? Bookmark. The one exception is if the page has been pre-dogeared.
* Magazine: Asimov’s Science Fiction or Fantasy & Science Fiction? Uh, I guess I'm not a big enough nerd/dork/geek/whatever to have read these magazines.
* Alphabetize by author, Alphabetize by title, or random? Generally, genre and then by author or at least in a visually attractive manner. I used to be a page (book-shelver) at the library so I know my craft, but I'm just not that anal about them at home.
* Keep, Throw Away or Sell? Keep the ones I can't live without, sell the rest.
* Keep dust-jacket or toss it? Keep unless it's already tatty.
* Read with dustjacket or remove it? Remove, because otherwise it drives me insane.
* Short story or novel? Novel. A good short story just leaves me wanting more anyway.
* Harry Potter or Lemony Snicket? I read a little Lemony and it just didn't appeal to me. I'm a bit fanatic about Harry Potter though... :)
* Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks? Usually when tired but I try to make it to chapter break if possible.
* "It was a dark and stormy night" or "Once upon a time?" Either.
* Buy or Borrow? Buy if it's important enough, borrow if it's just recreational. I can't afford the expense or the space to store books I may or may not love.
* Buying choice: Book Reviews, Recommendation or Browse? Browse and some reviews.
* Lewis or Tolkien? Both for very different reasons.
* Collection (short stories by the same author) or Anthology (short stories by different authors)? I'm not that into short stories, so neither.
* Tidy ending or Cliffhanger? Tidy ending please.
* Morning reading, Afternoon reading or Nighttime reading? Nighttime, but all day if it's a good one and I can find other times to read than just before bed.
* Standalone or Series? Either if they are good, but most series should really only run a few books long and then stop. These ones with 47 books in them are usually pretty formulaic after the first few.
* Favorite book of which nobody else has heard? : Sexing the Cherry" by Jeannette Winterson
* Top 5 favorite genre books of all time? Too much to think about, I don't read all these genres.
o Classic Science fiction:
o Modern Science Fiction:
o Classic Fantasy: Lord Of The Rings
o Modern Fantasy:
o Mystery:
o Thriller:
* Favorite genre series?
* Currently Reading? Um... mostly textbooks currently.
Fogey Central
Saw Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, Joe Ely and Guy Clark in concert last night. I went basically to see Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt, having never heard of the other two guys. I frankly still don't know who they are and wasn't that taken by their music (liked it but did not love it) but they could all play some fantastic guitar.
So, Lyle Lovett is kinda petite. He's got little skinny legs. (And great big hair, still, though not as exaggeratedly so as in the later 80's/early 90's when I became a fan.) And it was funny how they had different styles of playing. John Hiatt has kind of a muscular style, Joe a bit of a rockstar thing going on, Guy a kind of relaxed old-guy manner, and Lyle? Kinda delicate. They are all of a certain age, and good heavens, so was the audience. I was definitely on the younger end of the demographic, and frankly that just doesn't happen as often as it used to.
They sat in a row, Lyle on the left (my left, is that stage left?), then John, then Joe, then Guy. They started with Guy and worked their way on down the line, each one playing and singing a song, with purportedly no playlist and no particular agenda (and no clue, according to Guy). Generally they did their songs solo or with one other person assisting: Joe would accompany Guy, John would accompany Joe or Lyle, but Lyle and Guy didn't really join anyone. I was a little disappointed in that, I had kinda hoped for more of a "jam" feel, but it was still a lot of fun. They would start over at Guy each time and went through the lineup several times, then did one song all together, then left the stage to a standing ovation and came back immediately for an encore. The time-honored concert tradition, just like how one moron has to yell "Freebird!" and some other morons have to find this hilarious and original and applause-worthy.
So, despite the repeated ridicule by a certain probably Neil Diamond fan blogfriend, we had a fantastic time and I remain a devoted Lyle Lovett fan. And now I would definitely go see John Hiatt in concert too.
So, Lyle Lovett is kinda petite. He's got little skinny legs. (And great big hair, still, though not as exaggeratedly so as in the later 80's/early 90's when I became a fan.) And it was funny how they had different styles of playing. John Hiatt has kind of a muscular style, Joe a bit of a rockstar thing going on, Guy a kind of relaxed old-guy manner, and Lyle? Kinda delicate. They are all of a certain age, and good heavens, so was the audience. I was definitely on the younger end of the demographic, and frankly that just doesn't happen as often as it used to.
They sat in a row, Lyle on the left (my left, is that stage left?), then John, then Joe, then Guy. They started with Guy and worked their way on down the line, each one playing and singing a song, with purportedly no playlist and no particular agenda (and no clue, according to Guy). Generally they did their songs solo or with one other person assisting: Joe would accompany Guy, John would accompany Joe or Lyle, but Lyle and Guy didn't really join anyone. I was a little disappointed in that, I had kinda hoped for more of a "jam" feel, but it was still a lot of fun. They would start over at Guy each time and went through the lineup several times, then did one song all together, then left the stage to a standing ovation and came back immediately for an encore. The time-honored concert tradition, just like how one moron has to yell "Freebird!" and some other morons have to find this hilarious and original and applause-worthy.
So, despite the repeated ridicule by a certain probably Neil Diamond fan blogfriend, we had a fantastic time and I remain a devoted Lyle Lovett fan. And now I would definitely go see John Hiatt in concert too.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
The Next Step
All of a sudden I'm going to take the CNA (Certified Nurse's Assistant) course starting March 19th. Good heavens. It all just came together yesterday.
I have to take this course to start nursing school; no way would I ever work as a CNA because they do all of the crap work and get peanuts for it. I will be doing plenty of crap work as a nurse anyway, and I can make twice as much (nearly) working oncall in mental health. But! I do solemnly swear (laying hand on copy of Gray's Anatomy) to treat the CNA's that I work with in the future as if they were real, actual human beings, and I will encourage them to become nurses or whatever it is they want to do, because they too deserve to make a living wage. I have worked my share of dead-end, no-future jobs. We all deserve to move on to greener pastures.
Anyway the course is 9a-2p every weekday for 3 1/2 weeks, and the board exam is something like April 21st. A lady down the street will watch Delia for us and we will pay her good money, so I feel good that I won't have to find child care someplace else and the baby won't have to go someplace new and scary. And from what I hear they are scraping by a little at the moment and could use the money, so that makes me feel good.
Funny how things work out when you need them to. We also managed to find a babysitter at short notice for a concert tonight. We're going to see Lyle Lovett. I've had the tickets for ages but spaced off getting a sitter...
I have to take this course to start nursing school; no way would I ever work as a CNA because they do all of the crap work and get peanuts for it. I will be doing plenty of crap work as a nurse anyway, and I can make twice as much (nearly) working oncall in mental health. But! I do solemnly swear (laying hand on copy of Gray's Anatomy) to treat the CNA's that I work with in the future as if they were real, actual human beings, and I will encourage them to become nurses or whatever it is they want to do, because they too deserve to make a living wage. I have worked my share of dead-end, no-future jobs. We all deserve to move on to greener pastures.
Anyway the course is 9a-2p every weekday for 3 1/2 weeks, and the board exam is something like April 21st. A lady down the street will watch Delia for us and we will pay her good money, so I feel good that I won't have to find child care someplace else and the baby won't have to go someplace new and scary. And from what I hear they are scraping by a little at the moment and could use the money, so that makes me feel good.
Funny how things work out when you need them to. We also managed to find a babysitter at short notice for a concert tonight. We're going to see Lyle Lovett. I've had the tickets for ages but spaced off getting a sitter...
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A Prodigy. No, seriously!
It's official: Baby is a potty-training prodigy.
Yesterday we just stayed home all day and worked on the whole potty concept. I put her in a pair of sweatpants and reminded her to use the potty occasionally and -- drum roll please -- she did it! All day with no diaper and no accidents! She went all on her own a few times even, would just run over and yank her pants down (or yank her pants down and then hobble over; she's a little unclear on the order of events) and yell to me, "MAMA! I'm going PEE PEE!" I even dragged the potty outside so she could avail herself of it while playing (mostly just to spare the carpet from her muddy boots).
Then, we went to the floor store to make our final decision about flooring, after which we went to a local Mexican restaurant that we like a lot. Baby always eats like a horse there. Well, more like a pig really. I had not taken a diaper bag with me (she was in a Pull-Up) so had no baby wipes with which to clean her up, so I took her to the restroom to wash her slimy, bean-encrusted appendages. Before we left the table I asked if she would like to use the potty and she said Yes!, but I wasn't that sure if she'd come through in the clutch. Woah! I put her up there on the big, scary, adult-sized toilet and she made it look like she'd been using one of these old things forever. Not only that but I was hanging on to her so she wouldn't have to balance and she told me, "Mama! Let go of me!" Now I think she's just showing off...
You know they say that one day it just clicks for them and they just potty train like a dream if you don't push it, and for crying out loud, it looks like it's really true. We just offered some incentive and she was all over it like a duck on a junebug. Go figure.
An amusing anecdote involving the cat: Baby's potty is a Fisher-Price "Royal Flush" potty that makes a fanfare sound when it is sat upon or when (ahem) a "contribution" is made therein. Well, the resident doofus cat Ringo (the Doofus King is his new title I think) discovered that if he stuck his paw into the bowl of the potty, he could trigger the fanfare sound. Yeah, so for several days he could be found leaping around the potty sticking his foot in it and listening intently to the noise. Repeatedly. Over and over again. Until the battery wore out.
Yep. Probably a good thing he's neutered. We wouldn't want any of those genes passed on.
Yesterday we just stayed home all day and worked on the whole potty concept. I put her in a pair of sweatpants and reminded her to use the potty occasionally and -- drum roll please -- she did it! All day with no diaper and no accidents! She went all on her own a few times even, would just run over and yank her pants down (or yank her pants down and then hobble over; she's a little unclear on the order of events) and yell to me, "MAMA! I'm going PEE PEE!" I even dragged the potty outside so she could avail herself of it while playing (mostly just to spare the carpet from her muddy boots).
Then, we went to the floor store to make our final decision about flooring, after which we went to a local Mexican restaurant that we like a lot. Baby always eats like a horse there. Well, more like a pig really. I had not taken a diaper bag with me (she was in a Pull-Up) so had no baby wipes with which to clean her up, so I took her to the restroom to wash her slimy, bean-encrusted appendages. Before we left the table I asked if she would like to use the potty and she said Yes!, but I wasn't that sure if she'd come through in the clutch. Woah! I put her up there on the big, scary, adult-sized toilet and she made it look like she'd been using one of these old things forever. Not only that but I was hanging on to her so she wouldn't have to balance and she told me, "Mama! Let go of me!" Now I think she's just showing off...
You know they say that one day it just clicks for them and they just potty train like a dream if you don't push it, and for crying out loud, it looks like it's really true. We just offered some incentive and she was all over it like a duck on a junebug. Go figure.
An amusing anecdote involving the cat: Baby's potty is a Fisher-Price "Royal Flush" potty that makes a fanfare sound when it is sat upon or when (ahem) a "contribution" is made therein. Well, the resident doofus cat Ringo (the Doofus King is his new title I think) discovered that if he stuck his paw into the bowl of the potty, he could trigger the fanfare sound. Yeah, so for several days he could be found leaping around the potty sticking his foot in it and listening intently to the noise. Repeatedly. Over and over again. Until the battery wore out.
Yep. Probably a good thing he's neutered. We wouldn't want any of those genes passed on.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Book meme
Stolen, as many of my better memes are, from yellojkt.
* Bold the ones you’ve read
* Italicize the ones you want to read
* Leave blank the ones that you aren't interested in.
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien) Read these books aloud to J. as we drove to Alaska a few years ago. Actually ran out of time and didn't quite finish the last book though.
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10.A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11.Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12.Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald) -- started but never finished.
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams) -- Actually have an autographed copy of the trilogy with a bonus short story (Young Zaphod something something). Very sad when he died. Also have autographed towel though it has gotten somewhat worn.
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) Just a few years ago.
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert) Long, long ago. I wasn't that into it.
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley) -- started, couldn't finish.
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb) -- tried it, didn't get what all the fuss was about.
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel), or, Ayla the blond girl discovers everything including the missionary position.
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible – not cover to cover, but enough to get the gist of it.
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas) -- an old favorite.
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald) -- skimmed this but never really read it.
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) -- tried to read but couldn't.
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo) -- didn't read but saw on DVD. :)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding) -- a big, big favorite. The movie was actually not bad either.
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith) -- read and re-read a gazillion times in junior high and high school.
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding) -- Tried to read in high school.
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100.Ulysses (James Joyce)
* Bold the ones you’ve read
* Italicize the ones you want to read
* Leave blank the ones that you aren't interested in.
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien) Read these books aloud to J. as we drove to Alaska a few years ago. Actually ran out of time and didn't quite finish the last book though.
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10.A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11.Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12.Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald) -- started but never finished.
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams) -- Actually have an autographed copy of the trilogy with a bonus short story (Young Zaphod something something). Very sad when he died. Also have autographed towel though it has gotten somewhat worn.
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) Just a few years ago.
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert) Long, long ago. I wasn't that into it.
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley) -- started, couldn't finish.
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb) -- tried it, didn't get what all the fuss was about.
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel), or, Ayla the blond girl discovers everything including the missionary position.
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible – not cover to cover, but enough to get the gist of it.
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas) -- an old favorite.
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald) -- skimmed this but never really read it.
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) -- tried to read but couldn't.
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo) -- didn't read but saw on DVD. :)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding) -- a big, big favorite. The movie was actually not bad either.
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith) -- read and re-read a gazillion times in junior high and high school.
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding) -- Tried to read in high school.
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100.Ulysses (James Joyce)
Swellness!
Not only did we learn this morning that J gets a bonus at work, but the baby got up and used her potty! It just doesn't get any better than this, folks.
Last night we went clothes shopping. I got a couple pairs of capris and a shirt and a sweater, J got some pants and shirts, and we got the baby some new water shoes, you know the kind you wear in the water. They are great for your natural environment type water play, like where there is gravel, and I like for her to wear them at the pool so she does not get foot-rot from the showers. Baby has undergone explosive foot growth lately and last summer's pair no longer fits her massive gunboat feet.
Initially I selected a pair in a festive bright blue and green (i.e. kind of "boys") color scheme but as we prepared to depart from the rack they were hanging on, Baby's tiny little girlish voice pipes up, "I want the pink ones!" Followed by a sigh from J, who cannot believe that our daughter loves pink more than any other color in the whole world. We got her the pink ones, but J retaliated by buying a Tonka dump truck for her to play with in the dirt in our garden.
You know, while wearing her pink kitty cat rubber boots. :)
Last night we went clothes shopping. I got a couple pairs of capris and a shirt and a sweater, J got some pants and shirts, and we got the baby some new water shoes, you know the kind you wear in the water. They are great for your natural environment type water play, like where there is gravel, and I like for her to wear them at the pool so she does not get foot-rot from the showers. Baby has undergone explosive foot growth lately and last summer's pair no longer fits her massive gunboat feet.
Initially I selected a pair in a festive bright blue and green (i.e. kind of "boys") color scheme but as we prepared to depart from the rack they were hanging on, Baby's tiny little girlish voice pipes up, "I want the pink ones!" Followed by a sigh from J, who cannot believe that our daughter loves pink more than any other color in the whole world. We got her the pink ones, but J retaliated by buying a Tonka dump truck for her to play with in the dirt in our garden.
You know, while wearing her pink kitty cat rubber boots. :)
Sunday, March 04, 2007
A Very Big Girl
So, I have been trying not to get anxious about potty training. For the baby. I myself have been successfully trained (more or less) for years, but the baby has been happily soiling diaper after diaper since birth, oblivious to my urgent attempts to influence her behavior via psychic messages. "Magically develop the urge to use the potty!" I would beam to her with my mind, "Suddenly eschew even the Pull-Up!" .... Alas, to no avail.
You know, to motivate someone you have to figure out their particular currency. We tried personal competition by holding up one of her little friends as an example: "Look, Julia is going to go use the potty! She doesn't wear diapers anymore. She uses the potty!" This was met with complete indifference. She could care less! Look, the diaper afforded her total freedom -- why, she could continue playing right through those pesky bodily functions with no interruptions. Sure, changing time was kind of irksome, but it probably took less time than constantly having to run off to the restroom. No thanks.
We tried a minor reward in the form of a Pull-Up. See, these have cartoon characters on them! But the catch is you have to sit on the potty to earn the right to wear them. She decided it wasn't worth the personal toll it took on her to sit on that potty. Thank you but no.
Finally I tried what Julia's family used as a motivator: the garbageman. He was so happy to haul Julia's binky away he gave her a present! He was so happy to stop taking dirty diapers away that he brought her another one! So, we told the baby that the first time she went pee in the potty, The Garbageman would bring her a neat present!
She mulled this over for a day or so and suddenly last night she became extremely focused. For two solid hours she sat on the potty or played near it, bottomless, and anytime we tried to dissuade her because it was getting late, she very emphatically informed us that she wanted to Go Pee-Pee! In! The! Potty! ALL BY MYSELF!!! So, we let her be until it got so late we just had to pack her off to bed with promises that she could resume in the morning.
This morning she was back at it within minutes of getting up. She continued for about an hour in the same vein, bottomless, lingering on or near the potty as she played and watched a cartoon, until finally just as I was dozing off on the couch I heard J shouting joyfully, "You DID it!" I sprang up to witness the first peeing in the potty. Jubilation! Huzzah! Etc.! And then ran to fetch the wrapped gift from The Garbageman, as promised. A little miniature post office with letter carrier figure, scooter, mailbox, and tiny letters to mail. She grooved on it. I was just glad I had bought and stashed that post office toy last year, intending to give it to one of the nieces.
After this momentous occasion we told her that the first time she went, uh, you know, in the potty, The Garbageman would bring her another present. And then I raced to the store to buy it just in case she pulled it off anytime soon. She didn't even really want to stop for breakfast until we plied her with frozen waffles topped with blueberries.
Go baby! Yay!
You know, to motivate someone you have to figure out their particular currency. We tried personal competition by holding up one of her little friends as an example: "Look, Julia is going to go use the potty! She doesn't wear diapers anymore. She uses the potty!" This was met with complete indifference. She could care less! Look, the diaper afforded her total freedom -- why, she could continue playing right through those pesky bodily functions with no interruptions. Sure, changing time was kind of irksome, but it probably took less time than constantly having to run off to the restroom. No thanks.
We tried a minor reward in the form of a Pull-Up. See, these have cartoon characters on them! But the catch is you have to sit on the potty to earn the right to wear them. She decided it wasn't worth the personal toll it took on her to sit on that potty. Thank you but no.
Finally I tried what Julia's family used as a motivator: the garbageman. He was so happy to haul Julia's binky away he gave her a present! He was so happy to stop taking dirty diapers away that he brought her another one! So, we told the baby that the first time she went pee in the potty, The Garbageman would bring her a neat present!
She mulled this over for a day or so and suddenly last night she became extremely focused. For two solid hours she sat on the potty or played near it, bottomless, and anytime we tried to dissuade her because it was getting late, she very emphatically informed us that she wanted to Go Pee-Pee! In! The! Potty! ALL BY MYSELF!!! So, we let her be until it got so late we just had to pack her off to bed with promises that she could resume in the morning.
This morning she was back at it within minutes of getting up. She continued for about an hour in the same vein, bottomless, lingering on or near the potty as she played and watched a cartoon, until finally just as I was dozing off on the couch I heard J shouting joyfully, "You DID it!" I sprang up to witness the first peeing in the potty. Jubilation! Huzzah! Etc.! And then ran to fetch the wrapped gift from The Garbageman, as promised. A little miniature post office with letter carrier figure, scooter, mailbox, and tiny letters to mail. She grooved on it. I was just glad I had bought and stashed that post office toy last year, intending to give it to one of the nieces.
After this momentous occasion we told her that the first time she went, uh, you know, in the potty, The Garbageman would bring her another present. And then I raced to the store to buy it just in case she pulled it off anytime soon. She didn't even really want to stop for breakfast until we plied her with frozen waffles topped with blueberries.
Go baby! Yay!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Good News! Nothin' but Good News!
Ok, so we have this car. It's paid for and (of course) out of warranty. And it has this misfire problem. We took it to two garages and neither could find the problem. So we just let it be, and finally after more than a year the problem got to be bad enough that we had to just bite the bullet and take it to a dealership service department.
Now, generally I consider car dealerships to be the very devil. I think the process of buying a car, wherein you may or may not get as good a price (or as screwed) as some other schmuck just depending on, oh, I don't know, moons, tides, etc. -- that's just wrong. It's f*cked up. And a huge sleazy waste of my time. And I don't know about you, but if there's going to be a huge, sleazy waste of my time, I'd rather it involved more gratuitous nudity than your average car sales transaction. At least the ones I've been privy to thus far.
And service departments? Please. Six hundred dollars for a tuneup? That's just nuts.
But! The service guy called today and told me that the car had lost (or blown or something) some kind of valve and that's what was causing the "hesitation" problem and the engine light coming on and so forth. The part and installation to fix this: oh, in the four hundred dollar range, plus tax. Ok, so that actually didn't bother me too much because I was worried the problem was much worse and exponentially more expensive than this, like the engine was being dissolved by exotic aluminum-eating insects and would have to be replaced for more than the car cost new, etc. The bad news: the broken part had taken the catalytic converter with it. "Oooooh," I said, "those are spendy aren't they?" "Yes," he said, "they are, BUT! I can get that covered for you under the Mazda Something Or Another (I've really got to start writing this crap down) Warranty Program, free of charge."
Yay!
"But," he said, and it sounded as if he was worried I'd tear him a new one right through the phone line when I heard this, "I don't have either part in stock and it'll be at least Monday before I can get them."
Are you kidding me? A year's worth of worry, anxiety, and hassle, and it will cost a mere five hundred bucks and less than a week out of my life for someone else to fix? Good heavens, man, I'd wait a MONTH and pay -- okay, five hundred is pretty much my limit, but you get the idea.
Hurray! Yippee! Etc.!
Now, generally I consider car dealerships to be the very devil. I think the process of buying a car, wherein you may or may not get as good a price (or as screwed) as some other schmuck just depending on, oh, I don't know, moons, tides, etc. -- that's just wrong. It's f*cked up. And a huge sleazy waste of my time. And I don't know about you, but if there's going to be a huge, sleazy waste of my time, I'd rather it involved more gratuitous nudity than your average car sales transaction. At least the ones I've been privy to thus far.
And service departments? Please. Six hundred dollars for a tuneup? That's just nuts.
But! The service guy called today and told me that the car had lost (or blown or something) some kind of valve and that's what was causing the "hesitation" problem and the engine light coming on and so forth. The part and installation to fix this: oh, in the four hundred dollar range, plus tax. Ok, so that actually didn't bother me too much because I was worried the problem was much worse and exponentially more expensive than this, like the engine was being dissolved by exotic aluminum-eating insects and would have to be replaced for more than the car cost new, etc. The bad news: the broken part had taken the catalytic converter with it. "Oooooh," I said, "those are spendy aren't they?" "Yes," he said, "they are, BUT! I can get that covered for you under the Mazda Something Or Another (I've really got to start writing this crap down) Warranty Program, free of charge."
Yay!
"But," he said, and it sounded as if he was worried I'd tear him a new one right through the phone line when I heard this, "I don't have either part in stock and it'll be at least Monday before I can get them."
Are you kidding me? A year's worth of worry, anxiety, and hassle, and it will cost a mere five hundred bucks and less than a week out of my life for someone else to fix? Good heavens, man, I'd wait a MONTH and pay -- okay, five hundred is pretty much my limit, but you get the idea.
Hurray! Yippee! Etc.!
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