Rose's Ramblings - Read It and Sleep!

Baby, You Can('t) Drive My Car

2012-02-12T12:25:00.000-06:00

I purchased my first car, a beautiful emerald green Plymouth Neon, in 1995. I say that I purchased it, but honestly, my daddy went with me, picked out what he thought was best, and did the haggling for me. I chose the color. But I was fine with that.

When we got to the first of like three dealerships (and ultimately the one where I got the car), the salesman went straight up to Dad and asked him what he could get for him. Dad said, “Well, it’s my daughter, here, who is looking for a car, so you probably want to talk to her.” Thanks, Dad. So the salesman looks at me and asks me what I’m interested in. I don’t recall my exact words were, but essentially, I stood there like a deer in headlights, drooling, and looking like Moe and/or Ron the idiot twins, then I expressed that I wanted a good stereo.

Yes, my IQ and the plight of women’s equality suffered that day, all because of Rose.

Dad just shook his head and took it over from there. As I said, I was fine with that.

Flash forward to 2001. Jennifer and I went car/window shopping. Went to Saturn, just as they were closing, as I recall it, and Rodney, the salesman, spent a couple of hours after he was supposed to be off work, showing me the car that I currently own. I was very impressed by this. Now I know that it was in his own best interests, fiscally speaking, because of the commission he’d get from selling me a car, but still I thought well of him because of it – he also sent me birthday and Christmas cards for the first several years afterwards. Looking back, I don’t recall if I looked at other cars or not, but it ended up with me dragging my daddy to Saturn that weekend and buying me my current car, Baby.

The more perspicacious of you will be sensing a trend or two, here. First, my daddy played a big part in me purchasing my cars; and B) I tend to make decisions quickly. I know what I like and once I see it, nothing else is going to make me happy. I could give you a variety of examples, but that would bore you and drag this blog out.

When we looked at the Neon, we also looked at a Mercury Mystique. Now I really liked the name, but all things being equal, I just didn’t like the stereo. I wanted the Neon. As I said, I don’t recall looking at anything after the Saturn. I knew I wanted it. And it’s been a very good car, I’ve had it eleven years with nary a problem. There was one big repair having something to do with the timing belt? that cost $1900 to get repaired, but then I ended up being reimbursed by GMC because it was later part of a recall, so I don’t count that. The original battery, after 10 years, had to be replaced last year, totally blowing the mind of the AAA guy who came to help me, and there’s been new tires and oil changes and things. I’m not sure, but it might even have the original brakes. I guess I ought to keep track of that stuff, eh? Hmm.. If it weren’t for my 43 year old knees and the fact that between the car being so low to the ground and my legs being so long that I feel like I have to climb out of a hole to get out of the car, I’d probably keep it for longer. I don’t like change unless it has pictures of presidents on it.

Anyway, since I paid off the Saturn, I’ve done my best to put money in savings toward a down payment for a new car, whenever that time came. Yes, there have been other things, like vacation trips to the beach, and the like that some of the money went to, but as of this moment, I have $4,700 in savings. Then, there’s the income tax return. Thanks to my medical bills, mortgage interest, and other deductions I can take for the first time in my life by itemizing, I get everything back this year. Yes, EVERY PENNY. Tee hee!! So, there is another $4,800. My car fund is as flush as it’s ever had a chance of being.

Rose is ready to go shopping. I’ve been looking off and on at the cars on the road, the internet, the paper. And I’d decided that I wanted either a Honda CRV or a Toyota Rav-4. (I would have just got the Saturn Vue, but Saturn up and stopped production of the whole line of cars!) Then there’s the whole new vs. used issue. I tend to waffle. Maybe I’m a snob. Everyone tells me that the reason to go with one of these vehicles is because it’s going to last me for YEARS! Well, I’m thinking if it’s going to last me well into my 50’s, by golly, I want it to be new going into it! I understand the whole depreciation thing intellectually, but in my heart …

I went to the Toyota dealer the other day, to get a brochure. I should have known better, you can’t go into a car dealer, get a brochure and leave. I spent about 45 minutes with the salesman talking about the Rav-4 and fell in love. I know that Dad would have been impressed with the way I've grown, car-wise. I asked perspicacious questions, and if the sales guy said something that I didn't understand, I made him explain it to me. I knew just about everything there was to know about this vehicle, and I was in love. Afterwards, I went to the Honda dealership to see the CRV, but it was only so I could say that I did it. I knew I was getting the Rav-4.

So I had to wait... about a week, plus, for the tax return to show up in my account. I took the afternoon of the next Friday, (this past one) off and intended to go shopping. I was oddly at peace with the whole thing. After signing the paperwork for the Neon, I went home and suffered all weekend with buyer's remorse until I could go back and pick up the car. With the Saturn, my only concern was signing a car loan when I'd only been at my "new" job for 3-4 months. Having been "let go" was still very fresh in my mind.

But now, no problems. I was ready to write that $10,000 check and get my new baby.

Friday afternoon. I go to the dealer and ask for my salesman. He was another thing that I felt good about. I would recommend him to anyone. I'd prayed for a good salesman and I got one. I'd prayed that if this was the wrong thing to do, that they would not have the one I wanted (blue, with a sunroof, were deal breakers), but if it was the right thing, they'd have one. And they did! Now, I could go into a LOT more detail about the FIVE hours I spent there Friday, but you don't want to be bored by it. You want to see it.

So, now, without further ado, I'm happy to present, my new baby...

I have not put the "Rosemary's Baby" plate on it and do not plan on it, at least not for a while. I may change my mind. I've decided that there is comfort in anonymity. Now, I'm going to go get in my car. He doesn't have a name yet, but we're working on that. And go for a drive. Later!

They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Ha!

2012-02-07T18:55:00.000-06:00

I met with my new therapist yesterday for the first time. I was a wee bit concerned that she might not like me, but that didn’t seem to be a problem and we got along like gang-busters.

You’ll recall that I was seeing someone last year… Janet. I can’t really recall if I went into it or not, but Janet is a Christian, as am I. But it seemed like her answer for everything was to ask, “How is your walk with God?” Now, I believe in prayer and I know that God can and does perform miracles. But I also think that he probably wouldn’t have led me to a therapist if the only advice I was going to receive was something I could get from my pastor, my deacon, my Christian mother, sister and friends. So, after she “released” me from my initial five free sessions, I just never went back!

Flash forward to now. My friend Ashley told me about her therapist and I’m like, I want to go to that person! So she gave me the contact info and I made an appointment. Last week, I had a day of appointments, including my first appointment with the new therapist, and I just took the day off for Rose (and her appointments, of course).

Anyway, my new psycho is Pat. We got along well, and I have high hopes for our success. My first assignment (and we all know Rose does NOT like homework), is to make a list, as I’m going through my daily life, of each moment where I feel contentment/happiness with whatever I’m doing, where food is not involved. For example, I probably shouldn’t list the enjoyment I get from biting the little head off of my Teddy Grahams. That would probably be bad on a variety of levels.

Knowing that I risk being yelled at again by my “fans” if I wait another month before I blog again, I decided to put my list in a blog and kill two birds with one blog. So here goes….

First, and honestly, this happened the Saturday before I met with Pat, but she said I could include it, so I’m going for it, I had to buy new shoes. I know! Every woman’s nightmare, right? But no, these were the shoes I wear when I’m walking. Back in May, I’d bought myself some Sketchers, the kind that are supposed to trim your butt and legs while you walk. I don’t know if that happened, although my butt does appear to be smaller, but I loved them because of the extra cushioning in them. After I bought them, my knees and hips didn’t hurt after walking, like it did in the other shoes. Also, in the other shoes, which were “Walking” shoes, I would get shin splints and that wasn’t a problem in these shoes. These shoes helped me lose 126 (new total) pounds, got me around London and, well, what little of Scotland that I saw. But they weren’t giving me the support I needed anymore and my knees and hips were aching after walking. I'd worn them out! Back to the Shoe Carnival went Rose! But unfortunately, I couldn't get another pair of the exact same shoes. I did get some that are very close, and am happy with them. I just can't wait for these shoes to wear out!

B) I had an appointment to have my eyebrows waxed and I was going to get a manicure and pedicure, but then a few weeks ago (don’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before), I had some neck and shoulder pain and I went for a massage and it felt good and helped, so I switched the mani/pedi appointment to a half hour in the sauna and a massage. The reason for the sauna is that for me, the first 30 minutes of any massage are generally wasted because it takes me that long to relax. The poor masseuse told me to relax at least 5-6 times. And I really try! But she suggested that I try the sauna because the heat might help relax some of the muscles, making the time to relax into the massage less.

I said, “I’m hip!” and signed up for the sauna. Now, everyone who knows me, knows that Rose don’t like to sweat. I would have bet money, and I’m too cheap to be a betting woman, that I wouldn’t last 5 minutes, let alone 30 minutes, but I stayed for 25 minutes and it felt great. And during my massage, the masseuse only had to tell me to relax once and that was when she was pulling my neck muscles, and I’m sorry, but I’m never going to relax through that. I’m too afraid that my little head is going to pop like a big ol’ pimple!

All of that aside, I was the most relaxed after that massage. It was almost like I felt after being off of work for a month! There was nothing that could spoil my mood. I made the decision that since I’m saving money by not eating out as much anymore, I can afford the sauna and massage once a month. A little Rose time got put into my regular schedule.

3: I’ve been a “blonde” all of my life. In the beginning, it was all natural, then starting in my 20’s, it received some help from Garnier Nutrisse.. (#100 Extra Light Natural Blonde). It served to cover up the white hairs (our family gets white hair, not grey hair) and gave some color to my natural color which, I think of as a dull dishwater blonde, almost no color to it, like black and white TV… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but for those of you who followed me through the spring and summer of ‘09 when I revisited my natural hair color, you may understand. I’ve flirted with the idea of what I’d look like as a red head. But I just didn’t have the guts to make that leap. Then I thought about just darkening it to like a dark blonde or even a light brown.

I was at Target, and they had a little computer set up there to “help” you find the right hair color for you. Basically, you tell it what color your hair is and it tells you to go with something no more than 2 shades up or down. Really, the whole computer thingee was rather disappointing. So I left without any purchase, but later that day, I had to go to CVS to pick up a prescription and I bought me some “Dark Golden Blonde.” Now, I’d used Extra Light Golden Blonde in the past before hitting upon the Extra Light Natural Blonde. I don’t think I could have put it into words what the difference is, but there was one. So why did I got with Dark Golden Blonde instead of Dark Natural Blonde? That’s a good question. The answer is that the color on the box had more color to it. I did my hair. It turned out more red that I planned on, but that’s probably the “Golden” part at work. I have before and after pics, but be warned, the before one is eerily reminiscent of Nick Nolte’s mug shot but that's what you get when you take your own picture in the mirror using your iphone.

And the after pic looks like it belongs in a school yearbook.

I still forget that I did it and am shocked when I look at myself in the mirror, but everyone seems to like it and got used to it. I like it a lot. But when I had to go to the Federal Building for computer training and show my driver’s license, I’m like… that picture doesn’t look at all like me. Before, at least I had the blond hair going, but now… I just look like I may be related to that woman. We’ll be having to get a new driver’s license next. Which will be another happy event!

Finally, I went to the eye doctor for my annual eye exam. I haven’t had any problems with my distance vision (other than being horribly myopic), but, especially since I passed the big 4-0, I’ve been noticing issues with my near vision. I almost bought me a pair of purple cheaters at Burlington pre-Christmas that were on clearance, but Jennifer told me not to because if I started using them before I needed them, I’d never not need them. Well, it made sense to me. But they were purple and regret not getting them, but that’s neither here or there. Anyway, it was time to visit the eye doctor. First, I’m not sure why the eye doctor’s nurse took my blood pressure, but it was 116/67. I’m thinking Dr. Marienau and I may need to discuss the small amount of Atenolol that I’m still taking (not for BP, but as a preventative for migraines), because I’ve been noticing wooziness when I stand up quickly of late. Any who, Rose is feeling pretty good because the BP is healthy!

Then, Dr. Irwin comes in and looks at me like I’m a total stranger. Now, seriously, we see each other one time a year, so I wasn’t hoping for much of a reaction, but he didn’t disappoint me. The first words from his mouth were “They told me you were here, but I didn’t see you in the waiting area… I just didn’t recognize you!” It felt so good! Tee hee!

I said “Finally” after that last one because although there is one more, it’s a blog entry on its own. And I anticipate it being a whopper!

BCIS: Bathroom Criminal Investigation Service

2012-01-24T20:53:00.000-06:00

A year ago, today to be exact, I wrote about Shoes, the woman running around our office not changing the toilet paper roll. See January 24, 2011. I don't recall if I ever mentioned this before, but she's no longer with us. And by that I just mean she found a different job. But the TP issues remain.

Last spring, I bought myself a "Crime Scene Do Not Cross" scarf (I know, but I have a point) and at the same time, I got some "Crime Scene" toilet paper (see, I told you.) Our thoughts were that we were going to write, film and produce an Oscar-worthy short movie co-starring Michael Weatherly from NCIS outlining the pitfalls that go along with not changing the TP roll. Ah, well, life intervened and spoiled our plans for fame. Shawna got pregnant and now uses her two kids as excuses for not bringing baked goods into the office. I had my surgeries. And, of course, Michael Weatherly never returned our calls.

Well, yesterday, Shawna comes out of the ladies room on the 2nd floor running for her tape, phone (for the camera) and the crime scene TP. Fun was afoot!

Shawna posted this pic on Facebook and, in addition to being wholeheartedly "Liked", an ex-Kahn also posted the following comic in our honor:

We somehow forgot to go in and take the TP down, though, and.. (and here's the best part!) the cleaning lady saw it and didn't clean the ladies room! Like, she couldn't tell that it was Crime Scene TOILET PAPER?!

Well, Shawna has sworn to catch the offender, so if you happen to have to go when you're at our office, be sure to change the roll if you empty the TP.

December - Part Two or Goodbye 2011

2012-01-24T19:36:00.000-06:00

The second half of December was just as busy as the first. We had our firm support staff Christmas lunch where we bring in food, have fun, then give our Christmas gifts to the person whose name we drew and reveal ourselves as their Secret Santa. Hopefully, not to their disappointment!

Now, I have been told that I’m fun to buy for. Along with putting our name into the pot, we’re supposed to give gift ideas/suggestions or likes and dislikes. Of course in years past, in addition to my likes of funky socks, cats, knitting, cheese, and cat-safe Christmas decorations, my Secret Santa also could rely on the old stand-by: Chocolate. Yeah, this year, my person didn’t have that luxury. As shame really, I do so enjoy chocolate. But did well anyway. First, by giving me some fuzzy penguin socks that had Oh! Oh! Oh! (instead of Ho! Ho! Ho!) on them. I thought they were rather unique, but turns out it was just a typo. After Christmas, she told me that she’d gone back to make sure she wasn’t crazy, and she said that some of them were correct and some of them had the typo. I don’t care. I like penguins and fuzzy socks. The “quantity, not quality” gifts were the best… she got me a snowman keychain that, if you touch the metal things on the bottom of it, make the thing light up and change colors for about a minute or so! Very cool

I was going to make and bring cake balls to the lunch, but the one time that Duncan helped me make them to take to the church cookie exchange, I discovered that in addition to being easy to make, they are very messy and I ruined not one, but two batches of chocolate in the process. So I chose to take something else. But in case you’re interested in the cake balls (Duncan got the recipe from some girl in his speech class last semester when she did it for her demonstrative speech), here goes:

You bake a cake (whatever flavor you want, I chose strawberry) according to the directions. After it’s cooled, you crumble it up with a fork. Then you take a tub of store-bought icing (again whatever flavor you want, as long as it goes with the cake flavor. I chose cream cheese frosting over the strawberry because I figured it would be too much strawberry, and I love cream cheese frosting… like I was going to eat any of this!) Where was I? Oh, you take the tub of icing and mix it into the cake crumbs… here’s where the mess begins. I got some plastic gloves (like the kind doctors use, not the kind for doing dishes) and did it with my hands. Then you spoon the mess into balls. At this point, the mixture had been handled enough, so we felt it wise to refrigerate them for a little bit to help them keep their shape before proceeding. Meanwhile, we heated up some chocolate. Here’s where I went wrong. I thought I was being decadent in using Nestle Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips. What I should have been was smart and used baking chocolate. Anyway, mom used the “ruined” chocolate to make herself some fudge. No chocolate goes to waste in our house! You dip the balls into the melted chocolate and refrigerate. Be warned that after a couple of crumbly balls, the chocolate gets crummy (so to speak) and it gets more difficult to make attractive chocolate dipped things. Just all around disappointing, but they did taste good, even if they didn’t look all that good. Sigh..

The Thursday and Friday before Christmas, I took off and Mom and I went to Indy. I had my 8 month appointment with the surgeon up there and after making 7 trips to Indy and back in 2011, I was going to go up for the appointment, then go back up for Christmas!

My appointment went well. I don’t recall where I was on their scales by that time, but per my scales, I’d lost 124 pounds. I’ve STILL only lost 124 pounds, but I try to look on the positive side of that. Both the nutritionist and the doctor were pleased with my progress AND I got a t-shirt for having lost 100 pounds! Of course the t-shirt makes no mention of having lost 100 pounds, so I don’t see the point, but a free t-shirt is a free t-shirt.

Christmas with the sibs and their families went well. As usual, my gifts rocked! I’m pretty well known for giving great gifts. As for my favorites, it would be a tie between the bacon scarf I got for Duncan and the monster movie motif purse I got Brynn for her birthday. Yup, I’m good. J

Mom and I came back home Saturday, Christmas Eve, afternoon and spent Christmas with the kids. Gizmo had already commandeered the purple cat bed I got for them, before I could wrap it. And I got them some Angry Birds cat toys. And I got them a couple of Hairballs… hairy little toys with googlely eyes and Santa hats. I’m thinking it was the cat nip, but they went over very well. I got mom a map of Scotland with the various clans marked on it, so she could see where our clan came from in Scotland. It’s currently hanging over the dining room table. I’m told that the mailman was very impressed when it arrived from Scotland in the mail. Especially since in the same week, I received a package from India!

As for Rose’s loot. There were a few quantity, not quality items (pickles, Teddy Grahams, and .. let me think.. uh... string cheese), but the quality item was my iPad! After ascertaining that my Christmas bonus was NOT going to be a membership to the Jelly of the Month Club, I ordered my iPad from Best Buy, and between the bonus and Christmas money from Mom, all I had to cover was the sales tax! Boo-ya!! And topping it all off, were the gift cards to iTunes from my Secret Santa, my boss Carrie, and the sibs! So I could get tons of apps! Needless to say, there has been a lot of raising frogs and merciless slaughter of zombies via my ‘pad since I got it! And we recently played with the video conferencing between ‘pads. Holly has one, and so does Aunt Chris. We’ll have to “call” Chris someday and surprise her! (Of course, since she’ll probably read this before we actually get around to it, it won’t be that big of a surprise… hmm..)

Christmas Day, mom and I went to church and then did what I think should become a Barger family tradition, we went to Yen Chings (fa-ra-ra-ra-ra!) for their Sunday buffet (not sure if they would have had the buffet if Christmas hadn’t been on a Sunday, but that’s neither here or there) and then took in a movie and popcorn. We saw the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and again, I assumed I’d get around to giving it its own review a la me, but it’s not gonna happen, so I’ll just say it was FANTASTIC! Very violent, graphic. Yes, there’s a rape scene. And yes, I wouldn’t take my child to go see it. But, especially if you’ve read the books, the movie was GREAT! I saw the “original” Swedish movie of the book. It was good. I can’t put my finger on it, but I liked this movie better. It may be as simple as the combo of Daniel Craig and not having to read subtitles (Hey, I’m shallow, remember?), but I highly recommend this movie! Especialy if you’ve read the books.

Ok, now that I’ve referred to both of my favorite Christmas movies, I think we can bring December to a close. I worked the week between Christmas and New Years. Steve didn’t. So I got a goodly amount of stuff done.

I was not unhappy to see 2011 go. As you know, it had been eventful and everything turned out good, but the medical crap alone had me bumming’. Here’s to 2012 being a better year!

December – Part One

2012-01-21T21:11:00.001-06:00

Last summer sometime, my friend Amy called and invited me and Mom to go along with her and her mom to go see Straight No Chaser at the Centre in December. Well, back in the summer, that sounded good. When December rolled around and it was the night of the show, I would have done anything up to, and possibly including, selling my soul, to just stay at home in my warm fuzzy new pjs under a blankie and a cat. Sigh. But I had committed, so we went. First we met Amy, her mom, and my formerly foreign fan Heather at Applebee's for dinner. A fine time was had by all, including Rose – I never said that I wouldn't enjoy myself, I just like to stay at home under a blankie and a cat after I work all day. I really think I missed my calling because I could be a good hermit.

The show was very good. We had great seats near the front of the upper tier and had a very good view. And best yet, we were in the middle, so we didn't have all these pesky people having to traipse past us to get to their seats. WE were those pesky people! I, of course, had heard the group's rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas on the radio, but that was really my only exposure to them. I knew they were an accapella group from IU, but not much more. I expected only Christmas music, as this was their "Christmas" show, but no. They performed Madonna and Lady Gaga as well. And they were funny. If you have a chance to see them, go for it. Several thumbs up… let's see, there were 5 of us, and most all of us have 2 thumbs.. 10 thumbs!

The next week, the Tran-Siberian Orchestra was going to perform at the new Ford Center in Evansville. I have to take a moment to remind my regular viewers that a little over a year or so ago, I was upgraded to what I lovingly refer to as the "big boy" parking lot and I love parking there despite the fact that I'm in the "bird poop" spot, mostly because I do not have to walk across the street to get to my car. Not that across the street is bad, but keep in mind that I used to weigh over 300 pounds, and plus, when there was snow and (more importantly) ice, it was downed-right treacherous to walk to my car because during the winter months, the sun NEVER shines on the alley beside the parking garage and even the relatively safe snow turns quickly to ice overnight. I'm a klutz – having fallen and twisted both ankles multiple times in my misspent youth, and I even walked into a Stop sign once while at DePauw, and I hadn't even been drinking! I guess my point is that both laziness-wise and safety-wise, the big boy lot was a good move for Rose.

So what does this have to do with the Tran-Siberian Orchestra? I'm glad you asked. About the same time I graduated to the big boy lot, the PTB (powers that be) in Evansville decided to build the new stadium in Evansville directly across the street from our parking lot. So Rose has great parking for any of the shows which come to the new Ford Center. I mean. I am probably literally less than 100 feet from the door. And if my seat happens to be in a section close to that particular door, even better! People will be trudging through snow, rain, heat, past our parking lot while I'm in my car driving off already! The landlord does have some poor soul out there charging $5 for people to park there, but since I'm already there, as long as I don't leave, I park for free!

Anyway, back to TSO. I got tickets for Mom and me to celebrate her birthday which was the following week. In order not to risk me losing my parking spot, Duncan dropped mom off at my office before going to his class that evening. It was a very cold evening and we had a couple of hours to kill before the show. We had dinner at the Main Gate, a sports bar across the street from my office and the Ford Center. Mom thoroughly enjoyed her food. I got a grilled chicken breast sandwich, hold the sandwich. And frankly my boob was overdone. But I got a lot of pickles, which helped make up for it, they were my veggie for that particular meal. I've been back there since and had very good food, so I'm not holding my tough old boob against them. Hahahahaha!

The performance was fabulous!! I asked mom afterwards what she thought of it and her response was that it was "LOUD." But then the next day, after her ears returned to normal, she said she enjoyed it a lot and felt the vocalists were great. Actually, we have the CD of the "story" they performed and I listened to it the next day and frankly, thought the vocalists at the show were better than the ones on the CD! Although I'm also not 100% that my soon to be 11 year old CD player/speakers in my car may not be getting old. (I apologize if there are double negatives in there, I'm too tired to reread that sentence.)

I didn't really know what to expect, although I had heard on the radio about how last spring, when they came to town to perform in a much smaller venue, they came in 5 semi trucks and for the December performance at the arena they would come in 35 semi trucks!

The month of December went pretty quickly. One Saturday, Aunt Marilee and Uncle Doug, and Aunt Chris and her hubs were to come to the 'do for a Christmas lunch/get together. Chris's hubs couldn't come, so she brought her son and grand-daughter instead. Pardon me, Chris, for saying that I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of having a 4 year old terrorizing my cats for the afternoon, but she was a very good girl and didn't torture anyone! Although Sophie did choose to spend the entire afternoon under the couch, but it wasn't because she had any real reason to do so.

Another Saturday, Mom's Sunday School class had a Christmas brunch at the church. I made my world famous sausage gravy and biscuits for them and attended as the official photographer. I used to go to that class, so I know pretty much everyone who is in it, so my natural reticence to being social with strangers never really came into play.

One Sunday, MY Sunday school class served a lasagna dinner to the college students before they went home after finals. (Note that we didn't have a party for ourselves, NO we had a party for other people!!) We miscalculated and ran out of everything (AND we didn't even get any food at out of it!), but at least all of the kids got one serving. We just had to turn their sad faces away when they came back for seconds (Mwa-ha-ha-ha!) While I was in the kitchen helping with things, Ronda, my SS teacher's wife and general pal, somehow talked me into going to the Christmas party/December meeting of the Harvest Women's Missionary group the following Monday evening. Not that I have a problem with any of the people in the group, or the purpose of the group. I'm just not a joiner and, as I mentioned previously, after working all day, I just want to go home and get in my pjs and climb under a blankie and a cat.

But despite having a really rough day that Monday, almost killed the boss man that day, I did go. Mostly because Amy offered to pick me up and take me. I had directions to get there, but I can't say that I might not have conveniently gotten lost if left to my own devices. I'm glad I went. (Note a trend… I NEVER want to go to things, but generally ALWAYS have a good time… the story of my life… remember, I should have been a hermit.)

Well, that's that for about the first half of December. I'll stop here and leave you wanting more. J

2011 Round-up - Part One

2012-01-20T14:27:00.001-06:00

Ok, I have been remiss, as demonstrated by not only regular reader Becky, but also my former foreign friend (formerly foreign, not former friend) Heather, both of whom have impressed upon me my delinquency by quoting, word for word, the opening sentence of my last posting.

I'm not sure if I'm honored or a little creeped out. I'll choose to go with honored.

It's been a busy two months, but I will endeavor to hit the highlights and to bring you up to date on Rose. Spoiler alert: this may have to be a series of entries. You know I tend to run on. But as my much acclaimed series on the trip to the UK this summer proved, my readers will read anything. Which is ironic, isn't it, Becky?.

November:

You will recall, especially Becky and Heather, that in our last episode, I had an eventful weekend, going to the ER because I knew I was dying of a heart attack and totally bummed that it was happening AFTER my bariatric surgery and privately bemoaning all of the yummy food I could have shoveled in the previous 7 months if I'd only waited to have the surgery in December. I, of course, was fine and since I have resumed taking my Prilosec like a good little girl, have had no issues whatsoever. Not even that weekend that I made REALLY spicy chili – so spicy that Duncan told me that if I'd entered it in our firm's chili cook-off, I'd have won the spicy category hands down - and then proceeded to eat it for several meals a day after that until it was gone.

Thanksgiving – well, the sibs had plans that didn't include me and Mom so it was just the two of us. The week before, however, mom had the brilliant idea that maybe some of the little old ladies in the church might not have plans and we could invite a few of them over to join us. I wasn't going to be eating much, so at least mom would have someone to cook for. Not that she had to cook for me. I'd have been ok with the same-ol' same-ol'. So I left for work thinking that Mom was going to call a few and fill the seats at our table. That evening, when I got home, I asked who we were having Thanksgiving dinner with, and she said that she remembered that my college roommate came home with me once for Thanksgiving because she couldn't go home for a 4-day weekend, so she thought maybe there might be some college kids in the church who'd like to join us. A slightly less preferable option, in my book, because I probably would have known the old ladies, whereas I don't know many of the college-aged kids. As it turns out, though, we didn't have any college-aged kids join us either. Either they'd all had someplace to go, or we'd left it too late and they were thumbing their way up the highway.

So Thanksgiving arrives. I told mom that there wasn't much point in her cooking the turkey boob she got for just the two of us when we could just go out to Bob Evans or someplace and get a perfectly good meal. She was game. That morning, as per my usual, I got the newspaper with all the Black Friday ads, and as I'm skimming them, looking for what/where I might want to get/go the next day, mom is reading the actual paper. Silly rabbit, news is not for kids. It turns out to be a good thing, though. While reading, she noticed an ad for a restaurant on the (far enough that mom almost packed a bag) east side of town that was serving turkey and all the trimmings. We decided that we'd head out, and if we saw something that flipped our wigs before we got there, then fine, but otherwise, we'd go to the Carousel Restaurant. As we drove down the Expressway near the 'do, there were two options: Burger King and Denny's. Closer into town, we passed the Cross-eyed Cricket, but we were in the wrong lane to make a left-turn to get there, so we ended up at the Carousel. It was fab. Turkey, dressing, veggies, a roll, a drink and pumpkin pie for… well, it's been a while… I'm thinking $9.99. The place was packed!

After filling our tums (mine is filled much quicker and there was quite a doggie bag for me), we headed a wee bit north (so for those of you keeping track, now we're even farther away from the 'do… making mom REALLY wish she'd packed that overnight bag) and went to go see the new Muppet Movie. At the time, I intended to give you my impressions of the movie in a blog entry, but, yeah, that obviously didn't happen. I enjoyed it. It was very entertaining, and I adore Animal. But.. I'm thinking that the unthinkable may have happened and I may have outgrown the Muppets. I'll have to ponder that and get back to you.

Après movie, I took mom back home and then I went to Michaels. Yes, this was Thanksgiving afternoon, but they were open and there was a coupon with everything 40% more off! Mom and I generally take a couple of names from the Angel Tree at church – each angel has the name of a kid who has a parent in jail/prison and age/gift suggestions/sizes for the child. The gifts are delivered from a member of the church along with a tiny Bible and the kid has a present "from" the incarcerated parent. Well, one of the names we picked wanted art supplies and so not only were the art supplies that I got him on sale, but I got an additional 40% off, so for the $20 I spent on him, he got $40 of loot! I do try to get as much bang for my buck for these kids, since they may not get much more. In addition to getting the Angel kid's art stuff, I was able to get some quantity/not quality gifts for my secret pal at work, and for the nieces and nephews… and, let's face it, some stuff for me, too!

Friday, mom and I had been invited down to Eddyville, Illinois, to have a "real" Thanksgiving meal with my Aunt Linda's family. We had a very nice time. They hadn't seen me in person since my surgery in April, just pics on Facebook which is not the same thing, so there were ooh's and aah's which, although not necessary and certainly not required, sure did make me feel nice.

Before we left for Eddyville, though, I was able to hit Kohl's and get myself a new coat, since the one I had was big enough for three of me (when I bought it, I accidentally bought the wrong size, so it was huge on me even when I was bigger), and some sweaters, and the other Angel kid's gift – clothes at really cheap, so he got $40 worth of stuff for my $20, too! Very successful!

We finished up the Thanksgiving/Black Friday shopping weekend by going to Burlington's on Saturday to get Mom a new coat because the coat she had been wearing was the one she bought in Indy when she went up for either Hollian, Natalie, or Brynn's birth. So at a minimum it's 21 years old. A good quality coat, but ready to be put out to pasture. Mom doesn't like shopping, AND Burlington also qualifies for her needing to pack a bag to go there, so I got her home as soon as possible and we burrowed into our condo for the remainder of the weekend.

By Monday, I was rested and relaxed and, other than just not wanting to get up at 6:30 and go to work, I was ready to go back to work.

I'm Doing Much Better, Thank You

2011-11-06T17:57:00.001-06:00

Medically speaking, 2011 hasn't been a lot of fun for Rose. That's not to say that it hasn't all turned out fabulous. As of today, I've lost 112 pounds and other than a lovely scar and almost NO memories from Scotland, I can't complain about the appendectomy either.

Wednesday, October 25th, was the official 6 month anniversary for my gastric surgery. Post-op, I was given a prescription for Prilosec to reduce the production of acid in the stomach and thereby reduce the risk of ulcers. I was told to take it for six months.... October 25th was six months... ergo, when the prescription ran out on Saturday the 29th, I took the last pill and said adios to the Prilosec!

Sunday, I made chili and had some for dinner. Monday, I had chili for lunch. Not mine, but some Buffalo Wing Chili which was super spicy. For dinner, I don't recall what I had, but for Tuesday breakfast, I had the rest of the Buffalo Wing Chili that Deborah graciously let me make off with. Lunch was... I don't know, but for dinner, Mom made spanish rice which, while not as spicy as I would have made it, did have a tomato base. I had leftovers for breakfast and lunch on Wednesday. For dinner, Mom made spaghetti. Again, not overly spicy, but tomato-y.

Thursday morning, I awoke at my usual 5:30 am. I didn't want to get up. In fact I laid there for a couple of minutes weighing the pros/cons of calling in for a mental health day and decided that it would only make going in on Friday almost impossible, thereby requiring two mental health days and I didn't think I needed that. I got up. The muscle in my upper left arm ached, like I'd had a shot in it. I thought maybe I'd slept wrong on it. I ambled into the kitchen to make my protein shake, I noticed that it was pouring outside and quietly said a prayer of thanks because obviously God knew that I didn't want to go out for a walk and provided accordingly. I also noticed that my tum wasn't feeling all that great, but... I took my shake to my room, sat at my computer and started to farm while slurping it down.

About 20 minutes into the shake, and I hadn't drunk but about 1/3 of the 16oz shake, I started having pains and it hurt to breathe. I got up to try to "walk it off", but that didn't work and I realized that I needed help. I hobbled into Mom's room and woke her up from a complete sleep (slacker), told her she needed to take me to the ER and I walked to my bathroom to put on my sweatpants... a total of 40 feet? During that incredibly long trip, I started hearing the blood rush in my head and all sound started coming from far away thru a tunnel. I knew I was going to pass out. Thank God that I got my sweatpants and was able to collapse onto my bed. I didn't pass out. Mom got the elevator, I got in, knowing that it's the world's slowest elevator, and when I started feeling woozy, slid to the floor, so I ended up crawling to the car.

Mom drove my car to the ER. Now, anyone who really knows me knows that NO ONE drives my car unless I'm dead or dying, so that alone should speak volumes.

At the ER, my insurance paid for an EKG, blood tests, a chest x-ray, and a CT scan (my fourth one this year - I should be due a free one soon, I think). The end result was that although I was having pain when I breathe and couldn't breathe deeply, they had ruled out anything life-threatening and were sending me home. WTF!? I should rest and follow up with my doctor. Sigh.

On the way home, I called my doctor who, as I already knew but hoped I was wrong about, doesn't work on Thursdays. After arguing with the telephone nurse that this wasn't acid reflux because I've HAD acid reflux, I was told I could either see my doctor, the best in the world, at 9:30 on Friday morning or come in and see Dr. Conway at 11:45 (a couple of hours away). I decided to wait for my doctor.

Mom got me home and up the elevator without incident or gravity taking over. I slipped off the sweatpants and, having wore my Snoopy nightshirt to the ER, I was ready to crawl back in bed. The tech had told me to drink lots of fluids in order to flush the CT scan dye from my system, so I asked Mom to get me some juice. She wanted to get me water, but I wanted juice, so I whined and she brought me juice. In retrospect, I would argue that although this whining is/was not a mature thing, it was beneficial as it brought us to an answer sooner rather than later... so don't judge!

Since you've already read the background, I'm sure you can guess that, yes, the juice caused more pain. We called the doctor's office back and got that 11:45 appt with Dr. Conway. An interesting man, he was my father's general doctor... yeah. Anyway, after listening to all of my back story about surgeries, health conditions, current meds (including the fact that I'd stopped taking the Prilosec almost a week before, he gave me some Mylanta to see if it helped. I can't say that it HELPED!!, but it did make me feel somewhat better. We decided that the stopping of the Prilosec, combined with the almost full meals of spicy acidic food for a week, had caused some damaged. I needed to resume the Prilosec to get back to the acid reduction, take Mylanta to help heal the damage, and resume my Carafate (this pink liquidy stuff I had to have an hour before meals and at bedtime for the first two months post-op - it creates a protective liner on the stomach wall to prevent further damage and help aid healing.)

As I'm typing this, it is Sunday evening. I've been taking the medicine, eating only bland foods, and resting/sleeping a lot. Oh, I forgot to mention the Lortab the doctor gave me for the pain! :) I'm not 100% back to the Rosemary version of normal, but I do feel much better. I will admit that this afternoon, after Mom left to go somewhere, I got me a glass of juice and, even though I watered it down, it make my tum hurt, so I'm drinking water. It still hurts to take deep breaths, to yawn (damn, why is it even typing that word makes me do it?), etc., but I do think we're on the road to recovery. If not, I'll call and go see MY doctor!! The bestest doctor in the whole-wide-world!... but obviously not on a Thursday!

Don't Hate the Playa

2011-11-01T16:51:00.000-05:00

At the law firm where I work, for the past several years, five, I believe, we've had a chili cook-off with the proceeds going toward the money spent on the families we "adopt" for the holidays. It's generally quite a hit with lots of people bringing in many different varieties of chili and lots more coming in to eat/vote. And I'm thinking that each year there's been a whiff of ballot-stuffing and hanging brads...er.. chads. This year was no different.

In 2009, I made a damn good pot of chili and I think I should have won. I was robbed. Let me point out that the most important key to winning is LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION... of your crock pot, that is. In 2009, I got there late that day, I don't recall why, and by the time I got there all of the prime spots were taken and my lowly little crock pot was stuffed in the far corner with another crock pot filled with grey chili - it was grey in color and in flavor. It was gross - and the attorney who brought it in knew it and boldly said that he just put anything that was in his refrigerator into it. So consequently, anyone who went over to that table, saw the grey stuff and immediately turned away without giving my lovely chili any consideration.

In 2010, I wasn't able to do anything about my miffedness over being robbed because I was in Washington DC attending the Stewart/Colbert Rally for Insanity. But I knew my day would come.

This year, the theme was "Little Schop of Horrors." Don't write in and tell me I misspelled the name, I didn't make a mistake. One of the managing partners is named Schopmeyer and Greg, the attorney/creative mind behind the chili cook-off thought it was a great idea and that we could superimpose Schop's picture over the plant in photos/decorations. (see below)

The rules of the cook off are simple, there are three categories: traditional, spicy, and non-traditional. The votes are $1 each with no limit as to how many you can purchase. The top vote-getters in each category win the medal for best in category. The top vote getter of the category winners wins the travelling trophy and bragging rights. This year, for the first time, Greg also got an adorable smaller trophy that the grand champion got to keep - it was adorable. I wanted it.

My friend Ashley and I discussed it to death and came to the following conclusions: no entrants in the spicy or non-traditional categories have ever won the grand prize. We both wanted to win - her because she wanted the travelling trophy for the next year and me because I wanted the cute little keeper. Therefore, we both needed to make traditional chili. But our running against each other might result in a splitting of the vote and allow a dark horse to come from behind and snipe it from us. So first we discussed my not entering any chili. But I really wanted to make chili.

So I contemplated making a spicy chili. But honestly, I don't know how to make a "spicy" chili. My mom thinks my chili is plenty spicy, but she has a wussy palate. So then we contemplated Ashley making and entering her traditional chili and making and ME entering her spicy chili (which in retrospect would've worked because she said that the ONLY spicy entrant that we ended up with ...ergo the winner of that category...was no way as spicy as her spicy chili!) Ah, hindsight.

Then I set my sight on the non-traditional category. Shawn, our HR peep, was going to make chocolate chili cupcakes - in another life, Shawn was/will be a famous cupcake maker. So, being a fan of the Food Network, having read Like Water for Chocolate, and seen the movie "Chocolat" many times over, I knew that chocolate and chili (the spice, not the dish) go well together. I got on the Google and found several recipes for Chocolate Chili. I picked the one that had ingredients we were likely to have or be able to find and decided I'd enter the non-traditional category with chocolate chili. But, having never made it before, thought maybe we should make it before hand to see how it was. This was a good idea because while it wasn't bad, it wasn't a winner. And I really ought to get on and find that recipe again, just so I can make a comment to the person who commented on the recipe about how it's such a fab dish and gets raves everywhere she takes it. LIAR!!

Now it's Saturday (the cook off was on Monday), and I'm back to the start. I just decided WTF! I was going to make my chili and what happened, happened.

Sunday afternoon, I dug out all of my chili ingredients which I had purchased before all of the above waffley angst and started making chili. Meat, check. Onion, a big one. Celery, potatoes and beans, enough but not a lot. Tomatoes, diced and sauce, check. Salt, garlic, chili powder, check, check. check. Hot sauce. I got to the fridge and look for the bottle that I know mom not too long ago because we ran out back when I was in the baby food stage post-op. I find the bottle and it has a Big Lots price tag on it and I'm thinking "hmm.. how strange that she went and got that at Big Lots." But I put it in my chili nonetheless. As I'm returning the bottle to the fridge, I find the bottle that mom bought at Schnucks a couple of months ago and realize that the Big Lots bottle was the one that was in my fridge for years at one or both of my apartments... therefore, nice and, uh.. well-aged. If I say so myself, it was very good. Duncan thought it could use more spice. Mom said it was spicy enough and had a big glass of milk with hers for dinner.

Monday morning, I reheated it, tasted it, added more salt (as the potatoes must've soaked it all up) and chili power, and poured it into my lucky crockpot. Ok, our only crockpot. I've been working a lot of OT at work lately on a big project, so I got there shortly after 7am and put my crockpot in a good spot. (Remember, LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION!) I then emailed Boss #1 Steve, Boss #2 Carrie, and Jake (one of the attorney who has a special place in his heart for my biscuits and gravy) that if, when they go in to eat at lunchtime, they recognize my adorable little white crockpot with purple grapes and green leaves on it and feel sentimental toward it because of all the good biscuit and gravy memories and it compels them to vote for it's contents, to go with the feeling. (No one said that campaigning was against the rules!)

Long story short, when all the votes were tallied, my chili had won not only the non-traditional category, but the big trophy too boot! (see picture).

As usual, there were rumblings about ballot-stuffing. I say that no one prevented them from spending all the money that they would normally donate toward the holiday family in December in October on chili voting. Plus, my chili got 95 votes. I know that I did not 1) spend $95 dollars; or B) even put all of my votes into my pot - I shared some with Ashley and I put some in Deborah's Buffalo Wing Chili (I got the recipe, BTW) which was terrific and won it's category. Therefore, other people must've voted for my chili!

I did offer Ashley possession of the big trophy, but she declined. Next year, she will win. I'm sure. :)

The (Evil) Plans of Mice and Men...

2011-10-18T09:24:00.001-05:00

I have an appointment today, over lunch, in Newburgh to get my chin zapped. (Laser hair removal) Anyway, I had this evil plan for the day and it's all been spoiled. See, I'd told both my bosses that I have an appointment in Newburgh over lunch. But I'm NOT going to tell Steve (Boss MAN #1) that it's laser hair removal! Come on! Some things I only tell the world via the internets.

So Item #1, I was going to have this mysterious appointment in Newburgh.

THEN, I was going to wear this suit that my friend Royale gave me when she gave me some of her formerly fat clothes. It's a wool suit and it's been too warm to wear before now, but the high today is supposed to be in the 50's, so I thought today would be a perfect day. I even nabbed a pair of panty hose from mom because I don't own any. And said pair was just "Queen Size" as opposed to the 4X of Just My Size that I used to shoe horn myself into!

So Item #2, I was going to be in this suit, looking ultra professional, in hose and heels.

The result of item 1 and 2, I hoped, would be that Mr. Steve's chain would yanked a little and he'd be sweating over the thought that maybe I had a job interview. Because it would be the first time in the 11-plus years that I've worked here that he's seen me in a suit. Plus, I was going to try to get Carrie (Boss Woman #2) to help by coming in and asking him if he knew why I was dressed so nice! tee hee!

So this was my evil scheme.

The only fly in the ointment turned out to be when I went to put on the pants to the suit this morning, I pulled them up, and they literally fell off of me! OMG!!!!! So although my evil plan was thwarted, it was because I've lost so much that the pants that were too tight on my back in mid-August now do not fit at all!

Position Available

2011-10-11T10:57:00.001-05:00

I have the sad responsibility to pass along the info that my foremost foreign fan (yep, Rose knows how to use a thesaurus) has returned to the States and she is, in fact, now bad in the Tri-State area. Yes, due to Heather's wimpy-ness, I no longer have an International Blog readership. (At least that I know of.) I guess that makes her my formerly foremost foreign fan!

So, I'm happy to announce that I will be taking offers to fill the vacancy left by Heather. The only requirement is that you 1) live in a foreign country – Kentucky does not count; b) read my blog regularly; and lastly, have a mutual friend pass along the fact that you LOVE my blog to me occasionally. Unfortunately, this is not a paid position, other than the obvious joy gained from reading Rose's Ramblings regularly.

My nephew, Duncan, has volunteered for the position. However, he currently resides with me and Mom and while I don't go up there very often, I don't think the upstairs bedroom qualifies as a foreign country. I'm pretty sure, though, that Winifred would gladly secede from the Condo with Duncan if he chose to do so. Although that might not be a wise alliance on her part, as there is no food or water up there.

Duncan also would not qualify as I don't think he is a regular Ramblings reader. That stumbling block can be easily overcome, though, and we have plenty of mutual friends (mostly his mother and sister – although I don't think he'd call his sister a "friend.") so he has potential. His availability to fill the position and therefore move to a foreign country probably depends on how well he does at USI this year. If he passes, he may be moving into the dorms next year, which, while down the road a wee bit, still doesn't count as a foreign country. If he doesn't do so well, his parents may help him pack his hobo sack and he can hit the road with his passport.

So until final grades come in, I will assume the best and continue my search for Heather's replacement. Now, I realize that the silent majority of my fanbase may contain a foreign fan. I am well aware that Blogspot does not make it convenient to post comments on their blogs and I'm too lazy to investigate moving it. But if you're out there, feel free to let me know. The position is yours for the taking. And you will get a shout out! I like to give my peeps their proper! (Yes, I'm very white and in my 40's so I'm totally lame.)

So to sum up: Must live outside the US, read my blog, and shower praise on me via a mutual friend (or I suppose Facebook praises would work, too) and all for the whopping sum of NO DOLLARS. The dollar isn't worth much at the moment any way!

It's Fall Festival Time!!

2011-10-07T11:26:00.001-05:00

In Evansville, the first full week of October means one thing to the majority of the populace: the Fall Festival. Now, I've heard it said, and will pass it along here even though I don't know if it's true, that Evansville's Fall Festival is the 2^nd largest street fair/festival thingee after Mardi Gras.

I do not generally go to the Fall Festival and I have friends who are just shocked everytime they invite me and I tell them no thanks. Post-op, now they assume it's because I can't eat what all they serve down there. But no, I'm sure I could eat a lot of the food there. I just do not like 1) large crowds; second, eating standing up; and C) paying highway robbery prices for bizarre food.

The first time I went was as a child… probably 8 yrs old. I know Holly and Haley were there so it was before they graduated high school. There was food, there were rides, and 3 billion people! I don't recall, but I assume I had a good time but I never really had a desire to go again. Been there, done that, you know.

Now, post-high school, my friend Karen insisted it was the most fabulous event on earth. She would save an entire week of her vacation time from work to take the first week of October. She would be down there every day. Against my better judgment, she convinced me to go with her one afternoon – meaning it probably wasn't even all that crowded. The Fall Festival that year was where I won the monkey in the picture with Dad that was a part of my October 5^th Blog entry. The monkey is the one on the left.

Then about seven years later, another friend, regular Rambling's reader Rebecca (Becky), convinced me to go with her one evening luring me in with talk of the world's best chicken and dumplings. Wrong! My mother's chicken and dumplings are the world's best. Sigh..

And there have been a few (VERY few) times that I've been suckered into going with the gang for lunch over the years. One time that stands out in my memory, Jennifer found a $20 bill on the ground as we walked from the car to the madness. I was jealous, but she bought us each something with it, so I got over it.

Last year, mom and I had to go down there to the bank to meet about our mortgage application during Fall Festival week. Afterwards, we purchased and split a celebratory cupcake from the booth directly outside the bank.

For the past several years… I think this year is #3, or maybe #4.. hmm… yeah, it's #4, or #5.... Anyway, I've "volunteered" to go to the Life Choice Center two blocks from Franklin Street and the madness, to help de-bone chicken for dumplings (again, not as good as my mothers, but the people who make them seem to think that the person making them was given the recipe by God Himself) and make piggy toes (cocktail wienies, wrapped in bacon, covered in brown sugar, and baked until they are caramelized and wha-ha-ha they are good). I could eat my weight in piggy toes. I mean, they're meat and sugar. What's not to love!? I guess I can't eat my weight in them this year. Too bad.

Life Choice is a home for unwed mothers in our church's former church building. Mom and I will be there at 8 am on Saturday. We'll get a primo parking spot which, a few short hours later, people would be willing to PAY for, and we'll go wrap those wienies! At noon, we'll reward the person who just happens to be weaving down 12^th Avenue at that moment with the parking spot and we'll go home.

Meanwhile, where is Ashley with the deep-fried Thin Mints she was going to get me!?

Status Update

2011-10-06T09:40:00.001-05:00

I know that the blog-fans... Ramblers?... hmm... I'll have to come up with a name for you. Anyway, I know that those of you who are NOT on Facebook. Ok, probably just Becky. Asks for photographic updates on my progress periodically because they (Becky) do not get to see the pics on FB.

So the above picture was taken this morning. Yesterday was Week 23 (1 week away from 6 months! - assuming my math is correct...) And I'm at 98 pounds. Frankly, I've been there for a couple of weeks, but it's ok. I'm feeling great. Still doing my walk/jogging despite it being DARK in the mornings when I get ready to set out.

I actually purchased (because yes, they fit... VERY tightly, but they fit) size 14/16 pants a couple of weeks ago. I ought to try them on again to see how they fit now.

I have no warm sweaters and I get cold easily since I've lost a lot of insulation. So I'm either going to have to go shopping for sweaters or raid Mom's closet, or both!

I've been letting my hair grow out, because I want to see what I'll look like skinny and with long blond hair. (Remember, I grew up in the 70's, so Farrah Fawcett is there in the back of my mind and I want to look like her!) But with the hair loss (and I confirmed this with my doctor) and the protein loss over the whole Scotland/appendix event, my hair is of a straw-like texture, so I had mom chop off a couple of inches of crappy scarecrow hair and now it's looking pretty good. I have bangs that, when they hang straight, go to my lips! Maybe by the end of the year they'll be even with the rest of it!

Ok, so that's my update at the moment. I've settled nicely into my routine, getting all of my protein, calcium and vitamins in. I struggle daily with getting enough liquids in, but that'll probably be the usual from now on.

Almost six months in, I'm very happy with my progress and have NO regrets from my surgery. I appreicate everyone's prayers for me, interest in my progress, and compliments. I'm pretty sure I will NEVER get tired of hearing how good I'm looking.

They Say It's Your Birthday!

2011-10-05T10:38:00.001-05:00

Today is my father's birthday. He would be 71 years old. (Is that right?... 2011-1940.. yeah, that's right.) The picture above is one of my favorites. Dad is the one on the right.

I've been thinking of him a lot in the past few months. I think it all started when Mom made the comment that Dad would think her using some of their retirement money on my surgery would be well worth it. That, of course, made me cry.

Then whenever I was feeling blue, post-op, she'd tell me that she was proud of me, and I'd cry. She'd tell me that Dad was proud of me, and I'd smile through the tears. She'd tell me that Sophie and Gizmo were proud of me, and I'd have to laugh at that!

There was a gentleman at our church, Lloyd. He knew and respected Dad. Lloyd would frequently tell me how much he was praying for my success at the weight loss and that he knew Dad was up in heaven happy for me. Lloyd passed away last week. He was like 93 years old, I think, and he'd been going downhill for the past several weeks and his children had to sit by and watch it happen. I'm grateful that if Dad had to go, he went like he did. I didn't get a chance to visit Lloyd in the hospital before he died. I know it's silly, but I wanted to go and visit him and ask him to say "Hi" to Dad for me.

Then yesterday evening, I'm sitting at home, logged onto Facebook, killing zombies and I get a notice that one of my friends (not someone I actually know, obviously) posted early birthday wishes to Dad on his Facebook page. I'm sure I've mentioned that we keep Dad's Facebook page so we (Holly, Haley and I) can log on and have him send us necessary farm or zombie killing supplies. But this person obviously doesn't know that Dad is no longer physically with us. I'm looking forward to logging on tonight and finding out how many of his Farm/Zombie "friends" have sent him birthday wishes.

My friend Shawna is like 14 months pregnant and her actual due date is 10/16. I keep telling her that October 5^th would be a lovely day to have her child, especially since she isn't going to name him Wade, after my father, for me. (They're going to name it after her husband's grandfather, or something… that's just selfish!) And then we made lunch plans for tomorrow, so I truly feel that she'll have the baby today (and spoil our lunch plans). She comes into the office today and tells me that October 5^th is the day of the year with the most babies born on it. I find that interesting. I would have thought July 22^nd would've been more popular.

Anyway, thanks for listening to me ramble about my Dad.

Identity Crisis

2011-10-04T15:48:00.001-05:00

All of my life, I've been called by many different names. My mommy called me "Pumpkin" when I was a wee little girl. My college roommate called me "Bunz"… after I told her once that I had the "Barger butt" … she ran with it and I became "Bunz!" Frankly, I'm surprised that I was listed as Rosemary "Bunz" Barger in her wedding handout thingee.

My mother, grandmother, aunts and uncles have all called me "Christine" at one time or many others. The reason behind this being that I have an Aunt Christine who is "blond"… or at least started out blond like me.,, and I suppose, well.. I just don't know the reasoning beyond that.

It's not just a me/Christine thing either. My sisters inherited this weirdness. They frequently call me by their daughter's names and vice versa. I've been called Natalie and Hollian… I don't recall if I've been called Brynn, but odds are that I have. I'd have to ask her if she's been called Rose or Rosemary, but I know the other two have, because I've overheard it.

It doesn't bother me - it's one of those things that you put up with. The only name I've been called that really has ever bothered me is "Rosie" and I'm sure that stems from the whole "ring-around-the-rosie" crap to which I was subjected in elementary school. And of course the famous Rosies out there (Barr, O'Donnell) don't make me want to embrace the name either.

I, however, have never really had a problem with names. Well, there was that one time that I was overly stressed at work and I couldn't remember Melba's name despite the fact that we'd worked together for, then, at least 7 years and she was standing there talking to me and all I could think of was that I had no clue what her name was. And of course when I turned 40 and my mental light bulb started flickering, but with that everyone's name has an equal opportunity to be forgotten… and plus it's a memory thing, not an interchanging thing.

Now, however, I've realized that I have in fact inherited the sickness. "But Rosemary, you say (because you know that I won't respond to "Rosie"), you don't have any daughters whose names you can switch!" And you would be right. I do have a "son," so to speak. His name is Gizmo and he's a very handsome blue-grey 6 year old cat. So that's one half. The other half is my nephew Duncan who is currently living at the 'do with me and Mom.

Yup, you guessed it. On more than one occasion I have called Duncan by the name "Gizmo." He doesn't seem to mind. But like me, I'm sure he'll put up with it and feel morally superior until one day he calls his daughter Rosemary or Natalie or Bunz!

New Acquisition

2011-08-30T13:45:00.001-05:00

My new pedometer just arrived. So now I'll be able to keep track of how far I walk/jog each day. I know that you are on the edge of your seat in re: the same, so I'll be sure to keep you informed!

Incredible Shrinking Woman!

2011-08-30T08:34:00.001-05:00

I think the water temperature is too hot in the condo because I'm shrinking! My size 22 white capri pants that I found in the back/bottom of my closet that day that Mom and I gathered seven trash bags full of clothes I could no longer wear to take to Goodwill are now too big. (Did you follow that? My ability to string along a bizarre sentence has not shrunk. In fact, if you're able to follow the rest of this blog, give yourself a hand!)

And the pants that my friend Royale gave me from her fat closet before her surgery two years ago which fit snuggly the first time I tried them on are loose too.

It's a good thing that back in May, when I was preparing to return to work after the GB surgery, and I had no clothes that fit so I had to go shopping, I bought a couple pairs of capri's (since I knew it would be a long hot summer) in size 18/20 in the hopes that I'd be able to fit in them before it got cool enough that I couldn't wear them. Why? Because, baby, Rose is wearing those puppies today!! And they fit, they aren't snug or nuthin'! And I'm thinking I'd look pretty good wearing them and my XL Muppets/Abbey Road t-shirt. Too bad the t-shirt wouldn't comply with the dress code at work. Sigh..

Tomorrow is week 18. On Monday, I weighed and I'm at T-minus 88 pounds! I got home last night and Mom said I looked really skinny. Several other people made similar comments during the day, so... tee hee!! And she took a picture. Yeah, I know, it'll hit Facebook before I get it posted here, but maybe by the end of the week.

The Dog Days are Over

2011-08-28T12:40:00.005-05:00

Ok, I've been thoroughly chastised for my delinquincy in blogging. In fact, I believe the comment was that she was tired of my trip to London already!

So on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, I am sitting here on the balcony, with mom's laptop, in my new size XL (note the lack of a number in front of that X!) Muppets/Abbey Road t-shirt surrounded by sleeping cats, bringing you up to date on Rose. I can only imagine how boring it's been without your semi-irregular dose of Me!

First, the status of my diet/exercise. I was also admonished for not posting pics on here for the benefit of the non-Facebookers of my fans. If my hair looked better, I'd have Mom take a pic of me in my size XL t-shirt for me to post, but you'll have to make do with this one - me in some of my new clothes that I bought with my birthday money, at 14 weeks and 80 pounds lost. I'll pause now so you have time to bask in my wonderousness.

I can't say exactly what week I'm on now... 17 or 18, I think. And from my birthday until about a week ago, I was stuck on a plateau. Feeling sorry for myself because I was stuck at 80 pounds... for a MONTH! Of course I told myself that my body had to catch up with all the weight loss, and I know that muscle weighs more than fat, and I'd resumed my walking during that month. Still, I'd got to the point where I stopped weighing because I didn't want to be disappointed. But last weekend, before I chugged my protein shake and took my walk, I weighed and I'd lost 4 pounds!! So my plateau was over and I was a happy camper!

Speaking of my walking, I've been doing pretty good, walking at least 5 days a week. I drove my route with my car, including circling the church four times... pretty sure whoever was in the church was wondering what I was up to, and it is right over 1 mile. But at one point, after I'd been walking four loops around the church each morning, I figured I either needed to up the quantity or the quality of my laps. Since I get really bored after the third lap and can barely force myself to do number four, I opted for the quality. All of which means that I've started jogging. At first, I was proud of myself for jogging enough parts of a lap to equal one side of the church. Then after a couple of days, I did one whole side of the church at a jog with no walking in between. Then a jog/walk/jog walk... totalling 4 sides... then 6 sides... then yesterday, the jogger in me said "Go for it!" and yesterday and this morning, I jogged around the church, all four sides, no walking... pretty exciting. Next: the Boston Marathon!

Did I mention that there are no numbers before the X on the size of my XL t-shirt?

What else? Well, my nephew Duncan has moved in with me and Mom at the condo. Since neither of us has any experience at either being or being around teenage boys, it's going to be an experience for all three of us. And neither of us feels like we know him very well, so we're enjoying the opportunity. Mom's happy to have someone to cook for who eats more, but not much more, than I do. He started his classes at USI this past Monday. The cats are enjoying his being here, especially Winifred, who loves him. It's hard to tell if she loves him more or his red beanbag chair! Gizmo, used to being the only "man" of the house, took a while, but he's come around too. We had to assure him (Gizmo) that Duncan was not planning on staging a coup and removing Gizmo from his throne as man of the house, first, but that seemed to work. We really enjoyed having Duncan with us yesterday when we went to Sams to get kitty litter. Mom can't lift the 42 (no kidding) pound bags, and I can, but it's a struggle. He lifted both of them at once!

Finally, it's taken a while, but I'm slowly getting back in the groove of working for a living. I'd probably be pushing it to have another conveniently timed surgery in order to get off for a few more weeks. I feel guilty every time I tell Steve I have a doctor's appointment! But having been off for the better part of three months, it took a while before I really felt like I was back in the swing of things. Of course getting up early in the morning is still a struggle, but that may be because of having to get up and walk/jog while it's barely daylight outside. But then I remember that I get to wear my size 18 shorts and it's easier to get out of bed!

Are We Home Yet? 'Cause There's No Place Like Home...

2011-07-10T14:17:00.011-05:00

So to bring you up to date, yes, I got out of the hospital about noon on Sunday, July 3rd. The doctor's office had faxed the medical flight form to the airline, so all we had to do was wait for the airline to contact us on Monday morning to advise if they were approving my request so we could make plans to fly home on Thursday. Other than that, I just needed to rest and relax while Mom and Holly roamed around Edinburgh and take pics so they can tell me what I've missed.

But then, what is that quote?... "When people make plans, God laughs." ?? Sigh.

You will recall that Mom and Holly were staying in dorm rooms on the campus of the University of Edinburgh. They had originally been given single rooms, with a shared restroom down the hall... typical college dorm. The plan was that when I got out we would either get another one for me or, if I wasn't up to being by myself, upgrading Mom's room to a double. Well, the Lord took care of it and the first night after sleeping in their singles, they were informed that they'd been given the wrong rooms and for their trouble of having to be moved, were being upgraded to doubles! And the doubles came with a bathroom! Praise God!

So they got me to our room, I crashed.

Monday - The rooms came with a free breakfast each morning. Breakfast like, OMG!, if I could have eaten more than 3 ounces per meal, I shudder to think of what I could have shoveled in! So after breakfast, we called the airline to confirm that they'd received the form from the doctor's office. We were told that they had not received it, but as soon as they did, blah, blah, blah. So I called the hospital to confirm that it had been sent. I had to leave a message. In retrospect, we lost an entire day on Monday because I didn't call and push enough. By the end of the day, Air Canada still didn't have the form and I needed to talk to Mrs. Gillis's secretary who had already left for the day.

Tuesday - after breakfast, I call and speak with Mrs. Gillis's secretary. She knows nothing about this, which is understandable, but will investigate. An hour later I call her back. She says she's found the form. Holly hops on the bus to go pick up a copy of the letter/form. When she gets back with the letter, Holly, who by now has cultivated a nice relationship with the ladies in the office at the University, has them fax the form. We give it about 15 minutes and call Air Canada and were told that they had not received the form, but as soon as they did, blah, blah, blah. Someone suggested that we email the form to them. So Holly went and talked her new friends into scanning the pages so we could email them. After calling the idiots at Air Canada and confirming that they had all of the pages (after multiple attempts at emailing them) and explaining that we didn't send page 5 because there was nothing on it as it was not applicable to my situation, we think we're good.

Next, we get a call from Air Canada advising that they didn't get page 5. Sigh. Yeah, we told the other lady that it was empty so we didn't send. Well, they need page 5, so we need to have the doctor write "not applicable" across it and fax it. Right, like I'm going to go bother the woman again so as to her have her write "not applicable" across of piece of paper. I made the note across the page and Holly asked her friends to scan it for emailing. About 15 minutes later, I call Air Canada and confirm that they have it...that they have ALL of the pages necessary. They did.

Next, they call to advise us that the attachments are unreadable. They couldn't have told us this before?? They want us to fax the forms to them... You mean fax the same forms which we've unsuccessfully faxed multiple times to the same number where you've NOT received them those same multiple times?? Yes, ma'am. Holly faxes the forms, but again, it's the end of the day and they've left for the day, so we're left in limbo. I contact my office here in the US and ask for information on how to contact the US Embassy in the UK for help.

Wednesday, we are fully prepared to call the Embassy (not knowing what they could do for us, but still) if we do not get help. Fortunately, along came Frieda. God bless Frieda. Frieda must've had the week off up until this point because she was a breath of intelligent fresh wind in the Air Canada office. Frieda was able to confirm that they were in receipt of the fax, all pages. Frieda had to sent the documentation to the medical office in Canada, but I conveyed our frustration with this whole process and how badly we just wanted to get home as gently as possible, and she said she'd put a rush on it so that the minute the Canada office opened (2pm Edinburgh time at the earliest), they'd look at it.

Finally, about 5pm Frieda called to advise that my flying was approved, so she transferred us to reservations. Long story short, though, there were no flights out of Edinburgh for the next week, so we had to take a train back to London, spend the night and fly out of Heathrow on Friday morning. We could do it!

Thursday, after our breakfast, we left for the train station and boarded our train back to London. This time the train ride was more enjoyable for me. The countryside as we rode by was gorgeous. Lots of cows and sheep, very lovely.

Friday, we flew home and fueled on McDonald's Sweet Tea, Holly drove us down to Evansville. It felt so good to sleep in my own bed, with my cats, that I almost cried before going to bed.

Day 7 thru ?? – I Left My Heart… er.. Appendix in Edinburgh Scotland

2011-07-02T10:09:00.001-05:00

In our last episode, Sunday night, after getting back from Stonehenge, we had dinner and I, feeling poorly in the tum and tired, went to bed.

Monday - About 2:30 in the am, I woke up with such severe pain and cramping as I’d never had before, except for when I had gall bladder attacks, of course those were 11 years ago. Without getting too graphic, they were the types of cramps that make you go sit on the toilet because you feel like you have to do something, but you don’t have anything to do, but you sit there praying that something will come out, even if it’s the creature from Alien, just to ease the pain. Of course nothing does. So then you start popping pain medication, whatever is on hand, just praying that it’ll knock you out so you can go to sleep. Sleep never came, or at least not for long. I’d maybe get 30 minutes to an hour in then I’d be back crying/praying on the toilet. Enough of that… fade to the morning.

We woke up and the pain was still there, so we decided we needed to investigate a local hospital. At work we have this weird travel accident emergency coverage, and they were a big help in finding a hospital and getting us to the right place. Holly called a taxi and we were off.

Of course, the UK has socialized medicine. There won’t be any political discussion about the pros and cons here, my long term readers know that I’m not that deep. However, occasionally I may point out something… and it may be a socialized medicine thing, or it may be an England thing, but…so I sign in and sit and wait for my name to be called. It is, by the "A&E Nurse" whose sole purpose it to evaluate me to see if I’m dying and need to see a doctor now, or if I have a broken bone and, presumably get an x-ray now, or if my name goes on the list to see the doctor and I’ll have to wait about 4 hours. Fortunately, I think, by the time my name was called, the pain had eased. I don’t know what had happened, maybe the drugs had finally kicked in, but… so we decided to leave and if it got worse to come back. The four hour wait just to tell the doctor that it didn’t hurt anymore didn’t hold the appeal one might think. So another taxi ride back to the apartment – I felt foolish for dragging everyone to the hospital for nothing. I went to bed and Mom, Holly, and Haley went out to do some sight seeing as it was our last day in England.

I slept and then got up and laid on the couch and, finding that England’s daytime TV is as bad as American daytime TV, dozed until they got home. They made dinner and I nibbled a little, making this another day where I’d eaten much less than the 9 oz I’m supposed to eat each day, and went to bed with more drugs.

Tuesday – Tuesday was the day we were to leave the apartment, find a train and travel to Edinburgh, Scotland, where we’d stay for a couple of days before flying home on Friday. I woke up with pain, but it wasn’t the all-abdomen-encompassing pain from before, but localized more in the lower right region. Never having been very sure where the appendix was, I was more concerned that it was a burst cyst on an ovary or that alien baby thing. But I managed to get my morning shake down along with some eggs and more drugs and we made it to the tube, then to the train, and were off on our 4 hour ride to Edinburgh. I wish I could say I enjoyed it. The sights out the window were very pretty and had I felt better I might have dug out the camera… actually, I’m thinking maybe someone did. Hmmm.. I nibbled a little lunch and tried to drink as much water as possible having had it drilled into my head that dehydration would be BAD for me with my tiny tummy. But mostly I tried to snooze.

We arrived, found a taxi and got to the hotel. I took a shower and crawled into bed. They went to dinner, brought me back some, which I nibbled and tried to go to sleep. However by now the pain was much worse and I was feverish. So we’re up and on our way to the hospital again! The guy at the front desk called us a taxi and Mom and Holly and I were off. Unfortunately, our hotel was like as far from the hospital as possible! But we arrived at the Royal Infirmary University Medical School Hospital. We walked in the A&E area and it was so full I almost wept, but turned out all of those people were here with the patients who were in another area. Still about 10 people, but made me feel better about the possible wait. And it quickly became obvious they were doing it on a triage basis rather than first come first serve which, in my mind, bode well. It was a little over an hour before I saw a doctor, but the Tylenol PM I’d taken had kicked in and I only really hurt when I moved or someone poked me in the tum, I tried to avoid both and the wait was bearable. I’m not sure that’s spelled right.

My doctor, Dr. Hunter is/was a true dreamboat, sort of a MacDreamy. Had I not been sick, I might have attempted to sneak a pic of him with my phone. As it was, I just kick myself for not doing it when I had the chance. He was the first of many who started poking my tum – declared it an appendix and called for a surgeon to come poke on my tum. She duly showed up, poked on my tum and agreed, most likely appendix, but they’d have to admit me and let Mrs. Gillis decide how to proceed in the morning.

At this point, I should point out that although technically they speak English up here, it is so fast and with such a thick accent, I generally get about 40% of what they’re saying the first time around. Choosing items from a menu is fun, too, as I was soon to learn.

I wasn’t sure who Mrs. Gillis was, but I got that they were going to admit me, give me something for the horrible nauseau and pain, and they’d do something in the morning. So about 1am-ish, I got settled in my room. Mom and Holly were able to go home and get some rest.

Wednesday – My first real day in a Scottish hospital. First thing I noticed was that there doesn’t appear to be a division of labor among the nurses. I may be wrong, but using my most recent experience in comparision, at St. Vincent’s certain nurses brought me meds, certain one got me drinks, and no nurses changed my bed linens, that was like a tech or something. Here the same nurses do it all. Also, no private, or even semi-private rooms. You’re in a "ward" of four people… think like in Harry Potter only without the pretty view. Well, actually I have a nice view, we must be on the 2nd or 3rd floor looking over the parking lot, but of course all I can see from my bed is blue sky, fluffy clouds and tree tops. The tea trolley shows up first – I was on no food or drink by mouth, which was fine as I hadn’t eaten much over the past several days. My roomies all got tea. Then a few minutes later the breakfast trolley rolls thru with porridge, rice krispies and corn flakes – again nothing I could eat even if I wanted or was allowed.

About 9:45, we meet the infamous Mrs. Gillis. Turns out she’s the dean of surgery at this medical school and she has a gaggle of doctors and nurses following her and writing down everything she says. Sort of like House only prettier and nicer… although I do like House a lot. She pokes around on me and agrees it’s appendix and says to get me a CT scan and then we’ll see what we see, but odds are, surgery will be today or this evening. So, 9:45, right? Everybody says it’s appendix, right? These things burst and get infected goo all over the place and cause problems, right? So, being an American with an American mind-set, I’m thinking probably by 11am for the CT. Nope. They came and got me at 3:15 pm. I had been on the list and had to wait my turn. The only people who didn’t have to wait were emergencies coming through the A&E. Sigh. Anyway, we got the CT. Everyone was relieved to see, yep, it’s the appendix, and Mrs. Gillis comes back to say surgery tonight, probably about in 3 hours… it was 5:30-6 at that point.
Then the anesthesiologiest comes to talk to me and I said something about going HOME on Friday and he and the nurse both agreed that airlines won’t fly you after having surgery in under 2-3 weeks, and that’s only IF the surgery is "keyhole" or laproscopic. If it’s the full blown surgery, it’s more like 5-6 weeks. OH, MY FREAKING LORD! I don’t want to be stuck here in Scotland for 3-6 weeks! The tears flew freely at that point because I wanted nothing more than to go home!

So Mom, Holly and Haley left for dinner, knowing it would be about 3 hours until they come and take me to surgery, and about 15 minutes later, they come to take me to surgery. I was like "what about the two gall bladders ahead of me??" because by now I knew that if there’d been a hang nail ahead of me it was going ahead of me.

Post-op – I remember someone telling me there’d been a "wee nick" in my appendix. I remember mom giving me a smooch. Then nothing.

Thursday – I wake up, in pain, thirsty, and my mouth is dry. Oh, and by the way, that "wee nick" in my appendix meant that it had burst. No one will give me anything to drink until Mrs. Gillis comes through to say it’s ok. Understood, but I was on no food and drink because I was having surgery. Now that I’ve had surgery, and I’m dying of thirst, give me something to drink!! Mrs. Gillis came through, finally about 9:15 and said yes food and drink as tolerated and a dietician would come see me to see what, if anything, could be done to help met my special nutritional needs. (Note: 48 hours later, I’m writing this and I still haven’t seen the nutritionist.) Mrs. Gillis did say that I would be able to fly after a week and that she’d write a letter to the airline okaying my travel.

Those of you who’ve read my blog for a while, will remember my crying on the toilet after my bypass surgery and my thinking it had to do with the pain and my trying not to take much pain meds..? Well, you know me, can’t teach a dumb Rose tricks. My theory is and has always been that I am too poor to risk becoming a drug addict, so I tried not to ask for much medicine. And here I was in pain, in a foreign land, with strangers seeing my butt everytime I went to the bathroom because no one in Scotland is big and they don’t have large gowns to cover my butt, and we were (are) in the hottest room in the hospital on a day that it’s a glorious 70 something outside, my mommy hadn’t called (she had, but no one told me that) and hadn’t shown up (yes, I knew visiting hours techincally didn’t start until 3, but…), so I was feeling alone and unloved and wanted my mommy. I was never so happy to see her as when she walked in. There’s just something that having your mommy by your side does for you that pain meds can’t. They’d spent all day contacting the airlines about changing Mom, mine, and Holly’s flights, and finding us someplace to stay as Thursday night was the last night at the hotel – which was fine, because it was like $40 round trip to and from the hospital.

Mom got me some more drugs and I felt much better.

Friday – more of the same, not being shy about asking for meds, feeling better except for the changing from laying down to sitting up position and the sitting up to standing positions – your average post-op. When Holly and Mom got here, they’d seen Haley off to the airport, gotten us checked out of the hotel and moved into a residence hall on the campus of the University of Edinburgh where we’ll stay until we fly out on Thursday. While they were downstairs eating dinner, they were reading the brochure on this odd machine each patient has that you can buy for 5 pounds a day access to the "Telly", films, and the internet. So when they came back up, while I was showering and getting into my cookie monster night shirt, Holly was signing me up… the internet being the big draw, as the TV here was crappy and the films aren’t that great.
After Mom and Holly left for their dorm rooms, I sat here and s-l-o-w-l-y tapped out an email to the few people whose email addresses I was sure I could remember. I swear it’s so horribly slow it almost isn’t worth it, but at least peoples were able to hear from my fingertips that I was alive, if in pain.

Well, it’s Saturday morning now, and I don’t foresee today or tomorrow being much different, other than the excitement at meal times, so this’ll be it for this blog entry. Holly tell’s me that there is internet access at the dorm, so we might figure out how to get this posted, otherwise, when we get to Indy. Mom and I’ll probably stay Friday at Holly’s house then come back down on Saturday.

Day 6 - But WHY Did the Aliens Do It?

2011-06-26T21:15:00.008-05:00

Sunday we took the train to Salisbury to see Stonehenge. I'm afraid that my blog regarding Stonehenge will not be up to my usual witty style. For one thing, like the Grand Canyon is a big hole in the ground, Stonehenge is a bunch of rocks. And I was in the beginnings of my appendix issues, I was horribly nauseaous, thirsty, hot, and weak. But I'll do my best.

I can say that the day was beautiful and Stonehenge, up on a hill as it is, had the most wonderful breezes blowing around it. We again had the audio tour guide thingees which told us all about the three separate sets of rings which make up Stonehenge and the peoples who were responsible for the building of each of them. One thing which the audio did not give full disclosure regarding was the aliens who really built it and their motivations.

Of course we had the poor timing of missing the biggest day of the year Stonehenge-wise, which was June 21st, the summer solstice a/k/a longest day of the year. On that day, according to the guide book, they let people get up close and personal amongst the stones. Much like in Diana Gabaldon's time travel epic, Outlander, I just know that if I'd been there on that day and been able to roam amongst the stones, I know I'd have hit my head on something and when I woke up I'd be in another time with the highlander of my dreams... although now that I'm thinking about it, maybe she wasn't at Stonehenge... it isn't in Scotland. Hmm... I'm going to have to reread those things, aren't I? Sigh...

Well, sorry about the lack of content in this blog entry, so I'll try to make up for it with some more pics....

Day 5 - Windsor Castle

2011-06-25T21:14:00.013-05:00

Saturday morning, the plan was to take the train, on the first day of our 4-day rail pass, up to Windsor Castle. It was a beautiful day. The sky blue and the clouds fluffy.

Before setting off on the tube, we all followed the Barger Family Motto and used the facilities in the underground station. I was very impressed by the cleanliness and the fact that it was one of those toilets you think of as English. Here's a pic...

Then we rode the tube to the train station and got on. Very exciting, and comfy. We'd gotten first class tickets on the advice of some friends, and were pleased that we had. The only thing about the train ride that I didn't like was that it was over too soon. We had to ride the train for about 15 minutes, get off at another station, and get on another train for 15 minutes or so to get to Windsor. Each time we'd get comfy, it was time to switch again. But this made me look forward to our upcoming trip to Edinburgh.

We got to the train station about lunch time, so we decided to have lunch at the cafe in the station before venturing forth to the Castle. This cafe was the world's slowest restaurant. I'm pretty sure I saw the Guinness people at the table beside us taking notes. But while we waited to be served, to get our food, to get the bill, etc., the crowd was treated to some Morris dancing, an English folk dance, by some local groups.

We went to the Castle and got equipped with our audio tour telephone thingees and started the tour. The first place we saw, because it would be closing soon, was the cathedral. Photography was not allowed, but I, rebel that I am, snapped a couple of pics. This was, after all, where Chuck married Camilla.

Much like when you go to the White House you only get to see six rooms, we only got to see a small portion of the Castle, but what we saw was pretty impressive. Again, no air conditioning - or at least very ineffective air conditioning.

Mom insists that while she and I were sitting cooling off while waiting for Haley and Holly to find a restroom, that she saw a car with Kate riding in it. And I suppose it's possible, as the next day, in the paper, it showed pictures of Kate and William at Windsor awarding military medals/honors to a bunch of British soldiers who'd just returned from Afghanistan.

After seeing what we could see and visiting the ubiquitous gift shoppes, we trotted down the street to find a pub that some woman had recommended to Haley as being not just your usual touristy place. Well, she had that right! Picture this, an English pub, named Two Brewers. Outside, a bunch of people having a pint, enjoying the beautiful evening. When we get inside and look at the menu, instead of steak and kidney pie (which I really wasn't interested in anyway), we find out that the chef is Spanish and cooks in the tapas style - meaning small portions, appetizer like. AND the chef is the one who comes and takes our order, serves the food, and provides a bit of kibitzing along the way! A very enjoyable experience.

After dinner, we made our way back to the station, the underground and then home. I was pooped, I showered and went to bed. Tomorrow, after all, is another day.

Day 4 - Palaces, Parks and Fountains... Oh, My!

2011-06-25T16:13:00.017-05:00

Friday's itenerary started out with us travelling to Kensington Palace. Kensington Palace is the place where Princess Diana lived post-divorce, and where William and Kate will have an apartment for when they are in London. No, we didn't see either of them while we were there. In fact, we didn't see a lot of it, because again, part of it was under construction. However, what we

did see was pretty fantastic. The gardens were amazing and I could just imagine taking a book, a lawn chair, and my drink out there and spending hours... on a cooler day. The day we were there was rather warmish... in the 80's. I know, I know... you all were sweltering in the 90's on the same day, but for London, this was rather hot!

The tour for Kensington Palace was not your usual guided tour filled with historic bits of info and such. Actually, being a fan of historic bits and such, I would have preferred that. But, what they had set up was a search for 7 Princesses who'd lived in the Palace and while you roamed from room to room to figure out the names of the princesses, you could read info on plaques and such about the princesses. Unfortunately, the rooms were too darkly lit for my myopic monocles to make out the info. Plus I was hot and sweating. I don't know if it was just me (and the impending feverish frenzy into which my vacation would spiral) or if it was the weather and the fact that the Palace just wasn't air conditioned to my preferences, but...

We had lunch at the Orangery - which was a beautiful building, built on the Palace grounds, for some Queen, used as a green house. It was at the Orangery that we had "Tea". Well, I had parts of a chicken wrap and some lemonade, but Haley, Mom and Holly shared the tiny finger sandwiches and tea and a dessert consisting of a huge baked meringue, raspberries, and cream. I stupidly didn't think to take a picture of it until after it had all been scarfed down. So I took a picture of the dessert counter as we left instead.

After spending the morning and lunch at Kensington Palace, we next walked through Hyde Park toward the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain and then ultimately on to Buckingham Palace. Along the way, we walked around a HUGE pond, or lake, or I'm not sure what, and there were tons of ducks, geese, and other miscellaneous birds. They were all very friendly, posing for pics. The birds that really struck my fancy were solid black except for the Phantom of the Opera masks they wore on their face. We took a pic of them with the intention of asking Tom (the brother-in-law who knows birds, fowl and fair) what they were. We'll see if Tom can hang on to his title by identifying this bird/duck.

After leaving the pond/lake thing, we continued along the path toward the Diana Fountain. Let me just say that it was a long stinking way from where we were to this fountain. Sigh... My dogs were barking... well, not as much as they could have been had I not be wearing my good Sketchers, but still... my puppies were tiring fast... and then there was the heat. I may have lost 60-ish pounds at that point, but I still had (have) quite a bit more to mislay.

Anywho, as we continued to wander, Holly and I came across the Royal Albert Hall. Although we got a picture, we did not have time to investigate how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall. Mostly because we had to get to this fountain or die trying.

After getting somewhat lost-ish, and asking for directions, we finally found the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain. It was not like your average fountain, but a concrete circle on which water flowed. According to the sign at the entrance, they wanted the design to be open to all, much like the Princess. After I got over my initial what the?, I liked it. Again, I could see myself sitting on a blankie, with a book and big ol'glass of iced tea (not very British, I know) and relaxing on the grounds around it.

After a short rest at the fountain, we continued our journey to Buckingham Palace. By the end of the day, I was close to not giving a damn, but knew I'd regret not going to see it. So we continued on.

Once we got there, though, the Queen's standard was flying, which meant she was home (or at least in town) and we couldn't see anything other than what we could see through the gates. However, it was very impressive and picturesque. I'm glad we made it.. but then we had to make it back to the apartment before passing out.

We made it, in fact, once we got on the tube to ride back, we got a bit of energy back, we decided to give the other Chinese restaurant between the station and the apartment a try for dinner. At this restaurant, I ordered my beloved chicken in garlic sauce which, in the States, comes with onions, mushrooms, celery, and water chestnuts along with the chicken in said garlic sauce. Not at this restaurant. I got a piece of chicken, white breast meat, in garlic sauce. It was good, and since I couldn't eat much of the veggies anyway, it was fine, but I still missed my crunchy veggies.

After dinner, Holly and Haley went on to hit the internet cafe and Mom and I headed home. I took a shower and hit the bed. To sleep, perchance to dream, of the exciting adventures the next day held for us..zzzzz...zz..zzz..zzz

Day 3 - Off With Their Heads! (and My Feet!)

2011-06-25T14:10:00.012-05:00

The plan for the day was to go see the Tower of London. Going into it, I thought the Tower of London was A tower. But no, the Tower is a whole complex of smaller buildings (towers), surrounded by an outer wall. It was a lovely day and we started out going through the old castle which had been built by a father/son set of kings a l-o-n-g time ago and made it to the area where Henry VIII kept his prisoners. We got to see the crown jewels (no photography allowed). And then we had lunch in the cafeteria there.

After lunch, Holly and Haley took the camera and trekked through the "White Tower", so named because they would white-wash it every so often back in the day, and Mom and I found a bench in the sun and enjoyed the breeze. From our vantage point, we were able to see the changing of the guard (yes, I know, not THE changing of the guard, but fun to watch nonetheless!)

After an enjoyable morning and early afternoon, we finished up by getting a close-up view of the London Bridge. Now, THE London Bridge is somewhere in Arizona, of course, but this bridge looked good too. Had there been an elevator, Mom and I would have been game to go to the top and see the sights, but by this time, both of us were pooped.

Fortunately, the next item on the day's agenda was to catch a cruise up and down the Thames River to see London from that vantage point. We boarded our boat and since the weather was nippy, but not too bad, we rode the trip up the river (or maybe it was down... I get confused about that type of stuff) on the top of the boat. The trip included the comedy stylings of the first mate. He was cute and funny, so we gave him a nice tip.

We rode the boat down/up to Greenwich and since we had time before the last boat back, we got off and meandered around. Specifically, we meandered up the world's largest hill to get to the Royal Observatory so we could stand on the Prime Meridian and have a foot in both the Eastern and Western Hemispheres. I say this is the world's largest hill because I'm pretty sure that the bulk of the 15-ish pounds I lost while on this trip were lost going up the hill. Going down the hill was no picnic either, it was so steep you had to be careful not to pick up too much momentum lest inertia just carry you away! This picture is of the downhill trek, to give you an idea of the incline.

For dinner, we were too tired to make anything, so we stopped at the first of two Chinese places on the street between the flat and the underground station. It certainly was not Yen Ching, but it wasn't too bad. After dinner, we managed to get ourselves back to the flat and put our feet up to plan the next day's adventures.

Day 2 - The Game is Afoot!

2011-06-25T12:00:00.015-05:00

Wednesday morning in London - despite the time difference, Rose is awake about 6-ish. Really that's not too bad, though, gets me into the shower first, and gives me time to chug my protein shake and get my daily pills down before it is time to venture forth.

The plan for today was to find our way to the Baker Street tube station and then go to Madame Tussauds. Of course, as a lover of mystery novels, if we'd been a little closer to 221B Baker Street, I'd have liked to go take a picture. Although I've been told that it is just a residence. However, at one of the platforms at the Baker Street station, there was a silhouette of Sherlock Holmes in the tiles. Unfortunately it was several levels below where we were, so Holly and Haley agreed to run down there and get a pic or two! Now, outside of the Baker Street station, there was a Sherlock Holmes statue. He looked very, uh.. detective-like. :)

Anywho, as we walked to Madame Tussauds', we passed several souvenir shops and I purchased myself a pair of socks with the British flag on them and an umbrella (it was raining).

Having purchased our tickets the day before, we did not have to stand outside in the rain to wait our turns to enter Madame Tussauds. We did find some telephone boxes for a quick photo op, though!

We met a big group of famous people at the exhibit. Holly got her pic taken with the man of her dreams, Zach Efron. Haley and Patrick Stewart were rather chatty. Brangelina was over in the corner. In addition to a variety of celebrities, there were political figures, including Henry VIII - Haley was concerned about her neck when she was talking to him!

Holly and I had the opportunity to hang with J.T., something that I know will make everyone at work jealous!

After chatting with the pretty people, we took the opportunity to find shelter from the rain and ate at a deli-type establishment named Arizona's. Holly and Haley had the fish and chips. I took a small bite to see what it was all about, and frankly, it tasted like Mrs. Paul's. Mom told me to order whatever sounded good to me. So I got us a burger and chips. The burger was not like an American burger and DUH! the chips were french fries, not the chips that I'd anticipated. However, the burger did come with a couple of tomato and cucumber slices, so I was able to eat some burger and fresh veggies.

After lunch, we hopped back on the tube and rode it to King's Cross Station to check out Platform 9 3/4 of Harry Potter fame. Ok, well, unfortunately, since so much of London is old, a big part of it is under construction/remodeling. And Platform 9 3/4 was blocked off. I was bummed, but tired, so I got over it quickly. One thing we encountered was a pay toilet. You had to pay 30p to use the restroom. Fortunately, there was a change machine right there because I had tons of coins, but none of it amounted to the correct amount. I've managed to live 42 years, but this is the first pay toilet for Rose! There was a set of scales there, too. Although frankly, I think they were the kind that give your horoscope. And I was tempted to step on them to see how much weight I'd lost trotting around London the past two days, but I figured it would pop out in metric, and I'm not good on the whole metric/non-metric conversion thing, so I kept my change.

After our adventures in King's Cross, we went to go check out Harrod's - the BIG department store where you HAVE to go. Well, we went, but I must say that everything was incredibly overpriced - for example, Mom and I went to the cafe inside and her Pepsi (made with real sugar, BTW, not the fake stuff she's used to) was 4 pounds and 25p. My bottle of water (in a real glass bottle) was 4 pounds 50p. That's about a $7 bottle of water, there. The one part that I did want to see was the memorial that Dodi Al Feyad 's father had put up for him and Diana. A little cheesy, but not near as cheesy as the statues of both of them near one of the exits.

When we left Harrods, we decided to head back to the flat and grab something at the little shop a couple of blocks away for dinner. The big winning item was the butter - it was pretty good, but I could only have a small nibble. Whereas the other three had several pieces of bread slathered with butter.

Holly and Haley had discovered an internet cafe and, since the wifi wasn't working, so after dinner, they trotted down there to check email, etc. I took a shower and went to bed.

Day 1.5 – The Trip to the Mother Ship

2011-06-25T10:01:00.009-05:00

First, I again have to apologize because I know that there were several people looking forward to my daily updates from this trip. Our apartment had wireless internet, but for the first three days, it didn’t work, then all of a sudden it worked, but still we were dragging ourselves home each evening, sometimes as late as 8-9 pm, so I truly doubt you’d have gotten much from me even if the wireless thingee had worked. I will do my best to type these up in Word and get them posted as quickly as I can once we’re back in the States and have the internet. Now, on to the show…

Mom and I got up early, drove to Indy in the Party Van, stopped and picked up Haley, then headed to Holly’s. We pottied at Holly’s and grabbed Duncan and were off like a herd of turtles. We stopped at Dairy Queen to get ice cream and give Natalie a hug good-bye and we were off!… like a herd of turtles.

At the airport, we gave Duncan goodbye smoochies and he drove off in the Party Van. Next, checking in and security.

Now, being a full-time viewer of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report, I knew all about these new full-body scans that they do now, but what were the odds, right? Well, Rose’s odds on this trip, as you will learn by continuing to read the never-ending saga of this trip, were just right every time. Yep, I got pulled aside to go through the full body thing. I thought about yelling "Hey, don’t look at my junk" at them, but #1, I wasn’t sure if, as a female, I had junk… and #2, I didn’t want to spend my two-week vacation in the pokey. I did ask my usual, whether or not I could have a copy for my Christmas cards, but I was told that no one could see the scans… not even them. Which really made me want to inquire as to the point, but… (see #2 above). So I was through security and attempting to get my shoes back on when someone realized that my bag wasn’t there – and another guard comes up to me to ask it if it is mine. Turns out that the box of Cream of Wheat that we’d packed looked suspicious. Imagine what their reactions could have been (see #2 above) – mom just poured it all into a ziploc baggie (yes, an off-white, powder-like substance, in a baggie) – I’m the one who insisted on putting the baggie back into the box! Fortunately, me and the Cream of Wheat must’ve looked innocent enough because we finally made it onto the plane to Toronto.

In Toronto, we had to go through customs and the moment I’d been waiting for finally arrived. I was going to get a stamp in my passport!! Wait a minute… he told me I could go on through. What about my stamp!? I the guy if I couldn’t have a stamp… he said sure and gave me a stamp. Rather anti-climactic and unfulfilling, but it was still a stamp. Whoo hoo!

The flight to London was supposed to leave at 8:30 p.m. I don’t think we even got called to board until almost 10! But once we got settled, we were on our way to London!

The plane was nice, each seat had a video monitor on it and you could watch TV or movies or whatever from it. During the 6-7 hour flight, I watched Rango (animated with Johnny Depp) and Hall Pass (not worth my time figuring out what to put here, but it was better than Rango.) One unexpected nicety was that we were served dinner. Who serves food on planes anymore? After two crappy movies and a rather fitful nap, we arrived in London Heathrow at 9:30 AM.

First, customs and the receipt of another stamp in Ye Olde Passport. Again, not as exciting as I'd hoped, but we were now officially on the Mother Ship! Pretty exciting.

Our first task was to get to the apartment (or the "flat") we'd rented for the week. We found the underground or "tube" and hopped on. Heathrow and our apartment were situated in the southwestern quadrant of the metropolis that is London. And the apartment was about 7-8 blocks (not sure that their definition of "block" is the same as ours, but...) from the closest tube station and going to the apartment, it was mostly downhill. The apartment was the lower floor of a two-story house. I think if we'd had the whole house, it would have been much likek the Dursleys' house in the Harry Potter movies - it even had a cupboard under the stairwell where we could have locked an unwanted relative for the evenings. As it was, it was a little smaller than we anticipated, considering there were four of us, but we were only there for the evenings, so didn't find it to be a problem. The wireless internet was not working, however, that we considered that to be a problem. Especially since I knew my beloved fans would be concerned if they did not hear from me. hmpf...

Anyway, I took a shower and a short nap - not sure what the others did, but then we decided to set out in search of sustenance and then to go see London from the London Eye. So we took the tube to the appropriate station and then took a wrong turn upon leaving the station. However, we could not complain as we discovered and had our first real "English" meal in a pub - the Camel and Artichoke. The inside was very reminiscent of the Jungle in downtown Evansville, for those who know what I'm talking about. And the food was very good. Holly had the ubiquitous fish and chips. I had a grilled chicken Cesaer salad of which I could only eat three ounces, of course. The great part came when I asked for a 'to-go' box for the remainder of my chicken and, after waiting about 15 minutes, the waitress came back with a plastic container!

The British Airways London Millenium Eye is a giant ferris wheel type of ride that was built for London's 2000 celebration. When you get on the ride, it takes about 30 minutes to make the entire circuit - while riding the Eye, you get a fabulous view of the bulk of the city or at least the buildings/sites on or near the Thames River. We were fortunate to have very nice weather and and we rode the Eye taking plenty of pics. I can't post all of the pics on this blog, of course, so I will try to post a representative selection and if you want to see the full photographic travelogue, you are encouraged to become my fiend on Facebook where all of the pics will be posted.

After the Eye, we hit the ever-loving gift shop, or maybe even two! And then we trotted back to the tube station and found our way back to the apartment about 9pm... and it was still daylight! What's up with that?!

Apologies from London

2011-06-24T04:23:00.002-05:00

Hello to all who are anxiously awaiting blogs from our trip to London!

Unfortunately, the wireless here in England seems incompatible with our laptop and my iPhone :( so there will be no full blogging done until we are back in the States. This post is from an internet cafe a couple of blocks from our flat, but if I blogged from here, there'd be no pics.

But just to give you a taste, as I'm typing this, it is 10 am on Friday morning and we have seen the London Eye, Madam Toussouds (sp?), the Tower of London, taken a cruise up and down the Thames, and I think I'm forgetting something. But we've lots of pics and tons for me to write about.

Again, I apologize for getting everyone's hopes up only to dash them, but think of what you have to look forward to... for example, I will probably be 30 pounds lighter when I get back due to all of the walking we've been doing. We're doing well. No one has had to bludgeon anyone yet, although there've been some close calls. The weather's been great - even better knowing that it's in the 90's back home!

Later, lovies, Rosemary

Long Live the King!

2011-06-06T16:42:00.000-05:00

This past weekend, my mother and I drove up to Indy to attend my youngest nephew's high school graduation. This nephew, Duncan, a handsome, strapping 5 foot 11 lad, will be going to USI in the fall and will have the distinct honor of living with his grandmother and his hot, hip and happening favorite aunt (moi!) for the first year. This blog entry is not about Duncan. Although I'm sure there will be several in the future about my new roommate, I just wanted to throw his name out there for future reference.

This blog, like many in the past few months, is about toilet paper, as TP issues seem to follow me.

Mom and I woke up early on Saturday and hit the road. We drive up US 41 to I-70 in Terrible Haute and then on to Indy. But that's about mid-way in the trip and even if Mom hasn't taken her water pill, at least one of us as to wee. So we generally stop at the Riley exit on I-70. There is a McDonald's there along with a Burger King, a Wal-Mart, and two truck stop/gas stations. So whatever our needs, the Riley exit is a good bet.

So Saturday, we stop at the McDonald's. I think I've mentioned before that I, over the past 42 years, have purchased the right to stop and "use the facilities" at any McDonalds anywhere in the world for the rest of my life. That first year that the McD's Monopoly came out alone earned me the right well into my 30's. Not to mention the summers when the Beanie Babies were in the Happy Meals! My point is that I have contributed mightily to McD's corporate earnings, so I do not feel bad about visiting any given McD's and using its facilities without making further contributions to the cause.

We go in, get seated, so to speak, when I notice that there is no TP in my stall. I say as much to Mom and ask her to hand me a couple of squares. She replies that her stall is equally empty and hands me a (clean) tissue from her pocket. God bless my Mother and her continuously running nose!

I finished up and washed my paws and exited the restroom to go inform someone, anyone, of the lack of TP because I knew they'd want to do something about it. I frequent McD's restrooms because I have come to expect a certain level of quality. Anywho,... I got to the front counter and there was a long line, so I assumed no one behind the counter had time to listen to me. However, I'd seen an employee obviously taking her break between the ladies room and the counter, so I back tracked and went to tell her. I apologized for interrupting her break and told her the ladies room was out of TP. She said, (and here I quote verbatim, as I will never forget her words), "I know. We ran out yesterday. You have to ask for napkins at the counter." She then went back to playing with her phone.

I am not generally a confrontational person, so I use that and the fact that I was stunned into silence to explain why I just walked dumbly to the van. As I got comfy, I started to just be horrified by what she'd told me.

Since then, I have come up with a list of things that the manager of that particular McD's could have done in this situation. The list is as follows:

- They could have put some napkins in the ladies room so people did not have to ask at the busy counter. Plenty-o-accidents, if you catch my drift, could happen while waiting at that counter.

- They could have put a kindly worded sign on the door warning the prospective users of the ladies room that they would need to get napkins at the counter.

- They could have nabbed some TP from the men's room. Now, I realize this assumes that the men's room has TP, but I'm not in the mood to give the benefit of the doubt here.

- They could have run across the parking lot to the Burger King and smuggled out some TP.

- They could have gone to the Wal-Mart, which shared the same parking lot, and purchased some TP, or even wood chips from the lawn and garden section.

I'm sure you're wondering, "Rose, what about your return trip from Indy? Did the Riley Exit McD's redeem itself??" Well, I'll tell ya. We did not give it the opportunity. We went to the Burger King. And the King did not fail us. The King had TP. Long live the King!

Back to the Old Grind

2011-06-03T11:03:00.001-05:00

I am back at work this week, after an entire month off, and it has gone pretty well. I've figured out a few things and sort of settled into a routine of sorts.

Monday, well, Monday was Memorial Day, so I didn't have to work. But I did have to think about work and how I didn't have any bras that fit – and consequently, because they didn't fit, they caused gi-normous back pain. So Mom and I headed out to the far east side of town, (Mom packed a lunch!) and I got some new ones at Sears. Could have got the size that fit, but the next size down (still a C, thank you very much, Holly!) fit, even though it was tight, so I got two of that size instead so they would last longer. (So if you see me in a corner adjusting myself, that would be why!)

Tuesday, I woke early, chugged part of my protein shake which, let me just say that if you're even slightly nauseated in the early mornings, as I am, is not the easiest thing to do. Where was I? Oh, then I set out on my walk. Now, in our condo area, we live in the building farthest from the road, so my route is to walk to the road, cross it, and walk up the hill to our church and then around the church 3-4 times, then back. Mom suggested, and I immediately discounted because obviously I know better, that I only walk once around the church, so as not to tire myself since I have to go to work. As you might guess, I circumnavigated the church 3 times and then walked back home, took a shower, got dressed, ate breakfast while farming, and then was ready to go to work. Well, let me say here and now, Mom was right. After all of that, I was pooped and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. It was 7:45 a.m.! Sigh.

As I left the condo that morning, I started to wonder exactly why it was that I felt that 4 weeks off to recuperate would be better than 6. Especially since Steve was going to be on vacation both this and next week. Sure Carrie might like me to be there to do stuff for her, since Steve isn't there to suck up the bulk of my time, but… pssshhh… But I went. I have to say that everybody gave me a very warm welcome back. But then, after the immediate thrill of everyone commenting on my return and how fab I look, they expected me to sit in that chair and work for 8 hours! Yikes! Did I mention I was pooped!?

I got through the morning, ate lunch at my desk – by the way, it is much easier to drag a meal, any meal, but especially a 2 ounce meal, out for 30 minutes when you're sitting at your desk and working at the same time – then I took an hour nap in the naproom over my lunch hour. That got me through the afternoon and then home.

The rest of the week has been pretty similar. Although I have made the following observations:

- Vanilla Boost is the most horrendous thing ever to pass my lips with the possible exception of that barium I had to drink for the pre-op testing.

- Eating 2 ounces of pureed meat and some generic veggie while everyone else in the room is eating gooey, greasy pizza is not fun. However, to the people sitting beside me, if you're not going to finish the piece on your plate, at least get it out of my arm's reach so I'm not tempted to rip that pepperoni off of it and suck the greasy, cheesy goodness off of it.

- Eating cottage cheese for breakfast is much more fun when you're sitting on the couch and trying to fend off a 10 pound cat (Cleo) who has developed a LOVE of cottage cheese. I think that should count as part of my daily workout routine.

- Flintstone vitamins are not as fun as I always assumed they would be before I HAD to take them.

- I would kill, literally KILL, anyone of your choosing for a big ol'glass of iced tea, sweet or un, but preferably sweet since I'm daydreaming, with a STRAW in it. I never realized how much I loved straws until I was told I couldn't use them. And I really miss caffeine. I accidentally had some the other day and I felt like a totally different woman. BTW, Memo to the Crystal Light people – don't assume that just because the box says "Energy" that the poor schlub buying it is going to realize that it contains caffeine. Put the word in big bold letters on the front of the box!

- If I see that commercial for Applebee's, the one where they're announcing their new grilled entrees and you see the steak covered in onions, mushrooms, and cheese, again, I may have to jump off of the couch and plunge my fist into the tv. Dear State Farm Insurance Agent - Would my homeowner's insurance cover that?

- Work would be much better if I could do it from my lounge chair on the balcony with a cat on my lap. I may bring that up at my next review.

- Weighing every morning may work for some people (i.e., my mother), but it's just making me borderline psycho. If that number doesn't go down soon, even just by 1 number, I am going to have to increase my Paxil!

- I think all 48 of the pounds I've lost so far have come off of my butt. One would think that that is a good thing, considering the size of my pre-op butt, but… When I sit in a certain place for too long, my butt gets sore. I'm thinking I've lost a lot of padding that was nice to have. Would it look weird if I walked around carrying a pillow to sit on?

So in answer to the ubiquitous question, "Are you happy to be back at work?" No! That's just crazy. Who wants to work for a living when they could get up, watch Regis, farm/dig for treasure and/or kill zombies, watch Days of Our Lives, nap on the balcony, have dinner, farm/dig for treasure and/or kill zombies, and go to bed every day!? People who say to me, "I bet you got bored," they don't know me very well! I am, however, happy to be back amongst friends and co-workers who I have actually missed. I'm happy to relieve poor Jennifer, up in the collection department, of having to deal with Steve regarding his spreadsheets and reports and stuff. Although I firmly believe it did him good to miss me for a while, I like Jennifer and don't feel the need to torture her any more. I'm happy to have a job where I generally enjoy what I do and who I work for. (We'll disregard the times in the past that Steve's made me cry as they were hormone-induced.) And I'm very happy that I work indoors in a comfy office, with air-conditioning, especially since it's supposed to be 94 degrees today and Rose doesn't like to sweat. So yes, I'm happy to be back. But I'm going to have to step up my pursuit of a sugar daddy who can keep me in the style to which I've become accustomed during the past month, because, damn it! I miss Regis!

Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes...

2011-05-13T11:44:00.002-05:00

So this morning I had an appointment with my doctor. It wasn't scheduled, but for the past couple of days, I've been feeling woozy, dizzy, clammy, etc. I knew something was off, and after a call to his office, we were told that it was probably low blood sugar. Of course the fact that I only eat 6 ounces a day and none of it contained any sugar other than what came naturally in my applesauce, I wasn't surprised. Especially since I was still taking my Metformin - which is a diabetes medicine, even though I don't have diabetes, long story, don't ask.

First, sipping some apple juice made me feel better almost immediately. Then the doctor ordered a blood sugar monitor for me so I could test it. Mom went and got it and even after sipping my juice (from my sippy cup!) for an hour, my blood sugar was only 76.

So I went to go see Dr. Marienau this morning. First things first. When I weighed, I was down 31 pounds. YEAH! Then my blood pressure was 111/70. Which is picture perfect - and I hadn't even had all of my BP meds for the day! Anyway, after talking to Dr. M, I am now totally off of the Meformin AND one of the two BP meds that I take. I go see him again next Friday to revisit the BP.

Needless to say Rose is feeling very good. I'm still sort of woozy from the BP meds that I have already taken today, but I'll just be careful and watch what I'm doing and how I'm feeling. I'll let Mom drive to Absolute Beauty for my manicure this afternoon. Also, Mom and a family friend who works at my Dr's office both tell me I'm looking skinny today, so I plan on dropping by the office this afternoon to say hi and give'em a look see!

That's it for today. Rose Out!

Second Thoughts, Anyone?

2011-05-10T09:00:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'll admit it. I've had second thoughts. Kind of like I might have after burning the only bridge that could get me home. Why? Well, I was in pain, first and foremost. Even when I wasn't in pain, I was uncomfortable. And after I got home, it felt like I was spending my entire day taking pieces of pills every 10-15 minutes, except for the 30 minutes before and after my meals. And the meals - well, they weren't exactly inspiring.

I started seeing a therapist about a month ago, ultimately to help me get through my food issues, but immediately to help me get through the fear. She's a Christian and we talked about how I have no doubt that this whole thing is a part of God's plan for me and how the fears are the devil's way of undermining my following thru. She recommended Joyce Meyer's Battlefield of the Mind and I got it and have been slowing reading it.

Since the surgery, whether due to the pain or the pain meds, my eyes have been having problems focusing, making reading difficult. So the magazines and Kindle that I took to the hospital with me remained in the suitcase. But since I've been home, and since it was painful to sit down and to get up, once I was on the potty, I stayed there for a while. The cats would come in and entertain me and after a day or two, I put my Battlefield of the Mind book in there, too.

One morning after we'd got home, I had woken (??) up in pain, and was sitting there waiting for the pain meds to kick in, and I just broke down crying because I knew this was the biggest mistake of my life and I knew that it couldn't be undone. I picked up the book and read the next page or so, and then prayed. I know, here I am on the toilet praying, but it wasn't too long before I felt tremendously better.

So here we are now, tomorrow I am two weeks post-op. And despite a horrible night (couldn't get to sleep, and what little sleep I got was very fitful - I'm weaning myself off of the pain meds and the Tylenol wasn't kicking it), I'm feeling very positive. I can't sleep on my tummy yet, which helps make the nights difficult. I have no appetite - in fact, I forgot lunch yesterday. I have yet to have a day where I get all of my protein in or drink all of my liquids.

Mom made a very perspicacious observation early on, though. She pointed out that we are intelligent beans and if we're having problems getting all of the pills/protein/liquid/calcium/vitamins, etc stuff under control, how on God's green earth do the morons do it??

As to the food, mom has been outdoing herself. When we first got home, we had enough to worry about that yes, we went with baby food. And other than the fact that the meat ALL needed salt, it was fine. Since then, mom has made (and yes, pureed) pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots, pork chops! It has all been divine! One of my hardest parts of the meals, though, is dragging out the 2 ounces for 30 minutes! That's just crazy... even with the baby spoons. For one thing, I have to fend off Cleo for 25 of those minutes.

So yes, there have been second thoughts, but they are quickly squelched. As I'm sitting here, I know I've lost weight... frankly, my butt is feeling particularly boney of late. Today we are going to drop by my doctor's office and weigh on their scales so hopefully, we'll have good news.

A Stitch in Time

2011-04-30T12:11:00.005-05:00

Ok, it is Saturday morning and my surgery was about 72 hours ago.

We got to the hospital about 9:45 on Wednesday after hitting a McD's drive thru so mom could have some breakfast - didn't want her getting too tired or hungry. After all she's got to take care of me!

The surgeon was ahead of schedule, so they took me in for surgery earlier than the previously set 12:45. I actually walked into the surgery room. Everybody introduced themselves and that's all I remember about that!

Next I'm having a lovely dream and someone has the audacity to wake me up.

The rest of the day was spent with them waking me up every two hours to walk, wee and breathe. Mom graciously spend the night with her baby girl because, frankly, I whined. :)

Thursday, the pain meds started helping me a lot and I was able to start taking laps around the ward. They had signs that said that 16 laps equal a mile. I knew deep in my heart that that was never happening, but I patronized them into thinking it might. I also didn't sleep as much that day and was able to broadcast an email out to my peeps to reassure everyone that I was alive. I also started "eating" my "meals" on Thursday. Of course those meals were an ounce of fluid, juice, broth, etc, and an ounce of something very soft with protein in it. I made mom go home when Natalie and Haley left for the evening. I knew that she didn't a very good night's sleep the prior night and if I was going to allow this woman drive me home the next day (although I was praying for another day - despite the cost) I knew she needed a good night's sleep.

I was pleasantly surprised to be told that they wouldn't wake me up to walk the second night, so I'm thinking I can sleep right? No, that stupid bladder of mine work me up every 2-2 1/2 hours because I had to pee and the nurse told me that if I got out of bed to wee, I had to take a lap. Suddenly I realized their evil plan to get a mile out of me just might work. Sigh.

At about 3:30, I knew that if I stayed awake for a half hour, the coverage of the royal wedding started at 4am. Back when I was 12 or so, I was at my grandmother's house when Chuck and Di got married, but I set my alarm and got up and watch the whole thing. Maybe it was because I was more of a romantic back then, or because I was younger and hadn't just had surgery, but I decided to go back to bed.

Fortunately, my ubiquitous bladder woke me up in time to see her walking down the aisle at six am. It was a lovely wedding, then I had to go for another walk.

The doctor came in and told me she was releasing me to go home. I was very scared, but after a very nice pep talk from the nurse, I was ready. So they filled me with a butt-load of drugs and we headed out.

The children were all very happy to see us back, and poor Giz tried his best to climb up on my stomach to sleep, but I think he was satisfied with sleeping on my legs.

So I'm home, my back aches and my abdomen hurts. I took my lortab last night, but am trying to get by today without very much.. so far I've only taken I dose.

I'm tired now. My email's that I've typed from my phone aren't sending. I think it is nap time.
Ciao!

T-2 Weeks

2011-04-15T10:37:00.001-05:00

So on Wednesday of this week, Steve (Boss #1) advised me that he'd had the realization that we were "T-2 weeks" and he was getting "nervous." I wanted to point out that he's known about this for months now and that I was the one who should be nervous, but I restrained myself and nodded soothingly. A little bit later in the afternoon, he asked me if I knew what the "plan" was for while I was gone. Now, I wanted to reply that MY plan was to relax on the balcony with my book, my cat, and my phone, but again, I used restraint and told him what I assumed the plan would be, as I had not officially been told the plan, in regard to who would be doing his stuff in my absence.

Steve isn't the only one getting nervous, however considering my previous emotional breakdown about a month ago (which I think was more hormone related than anything), I'm doing very well. Even with the latest development – a .6 mm nodule was found on the chest x-ray they took during the pre-op testing at St. Vincent's last week. Now if you Google "nodule chest x-ray," you come up with some pretty scary things, including the Big One. Of course, I knew immediately that I could eliminate sarcoidosis, because it's never sarcoidosis. (If you watch House, you'll understand.) My immediate thought is to freak out, but I said a prayer and I emailed my prayer peeps and since then I've been doing good. Even my therapist was impressed.

They've done subsequent x-rays and I am scheduled for a CT scan of my right lung for this afternoon. Unfortunately, it's a Friday, so I have to get through a whole weekend knowing nothing. Sigh.

But since we are T-2 weeks, I have to start doing things in preparation for the surgery. First, I have to stop taking my vitamins. Well, I could probably continue the vitamins and just discontinue the herbal supplements. But the GNC vitamin pack that I take each day is expensive and I'm not just going to take the vitamins and pitch the rest. Mental note: go buy some multivitamins. I'll make them Flintstones chewables, since that's what I'll be taking post-op. And I have to start practicing my breathing with my "incentive spirometer." It sounds a lot more fun than it is. And I'm not that sure that it sounds all that fun. Hmm.. I'm supposed to be breathing through it 10 times at a time, four times a day.

Then there's the Bucket List. Have I mentioned this? When my surgery was originally scheduled, it occurred to me that there were places and things I wanted to eat before my surgery. Not that I won't be able to eat those things after surgery, eventually, but I won't be able to just sit and eat to my heart's content. So I made a list and my friends and family have unselfishly agreed to assist me in my endeavors. We've been to Red Robin. I was not overly impressed – it was good, but… When we were up in Indy last weekend, we hit the Cheesecake Factory and it was great!. Tonight, some friends and I are going to Los Bravos for a nice cheesey dinner with a few margaritas thrown in. Then Jennifer and I are doing one last afternoon of Yen Ching/spa treatments next week. The rest of the Bucket List items are things like I want mom's chicken and dumplings one more time, and her chicken and wild rice casserole, and dump cake. Sigh. Ok, this was stupid, I'm sitting here fasting for my CT scan and writing about food.

Anyway, we are officially 12 days away, assuming the CT scan finds nothing.

Count Down to Surgery

2011-04-08T12:12:00.001-05:00

I have returned from another trip to Indy - this time for my pre-surgery testing and nutrition class. The Lord continues to bless us on this endeavor. First, He got me in for my psych evaluation the same day that we went up for the informational meeting in February. Then, when we were able to schedule the surgery, He got us a date only 51 days away, instead of the four months off that we were told to expect.

I have to interject here that I know Dad would have had some interesting things to say about ME having a psych eval… AND the fact that I passed it with flying colors.

Anyway, the trip to Indy. We had a lovely trip up to Holly's house. Holly and Duncan weren't there, but Tom and Natalie welcomed us with pizza. Tom even gave up his and Holly's bed for us, so no one had to sleep on the couch.

I had to be at the hospital on Wednesday at 7:45am, so of course I got there way too early - about 7:20. Fortunately, it all worked out. Since I was early, they were able to get me started early and I was able to get out early. But I get ahead of myself. First off, they wanted blood, and a lot of it. Unfortunately for all of us involved, I'm not an easy stick, haven't been for many years. I get this from Dad… another thing to thank him for! And right as the nurse was, unsuccessfully, trying for the second time, the hospital chaplain came over the loud speaker and said a prayer blessing us all for the day… which was nice… and then when a second nurse came in to try drain me, the blessing was doing its job and she got all 8 of the vials filled. I have a lovely goose-egg sized bruise as a souvenir, but still I count it as a success!

Then I got to go do respiratory tests. I got to breathe into odd machines and receive my first take home gift of the day, an incentive spirometer. Fun little toy, I get to start breathing into it several times a day to start building up my lungs so as to prevent pneumonia post-op. Since I am not the best at it and since I do not want no pneumonias, I will practice it religiously.

So then I was off to go have my patient history taken. I know that Dr. House says that all patients lie. So I tried to be as honest as I could. If I lied, they were lies of omission, because I didn't remember ever having an XYZ test before… and hopefully not overly important.

Up until now, all things had been easy breezy and I entertained my escorts and a fun time was had by all. But then I had to go to radiology. I knew there were x-rays involved, because I'd been told not to take any of my medicines for the day until after the upper GI. I did not, however, know what was involved with an upper GI other than there being x-rays taken. The first part, which was swallowing some crystals and then shooting a shot of water was nauseating, but doable. The hard part was not burping because I'd been told that if I did, I'd just have to do it again. So we wanted to avoid that. Then came the barium. It was super thick and there was at least ¾'s of a cup of it. It took a bit of prayer and deep breathing to get enough of it down. And then she wanted me to take another shot of the crystals because she figured, rightly so, I'm sure, that I'd lost some of my bubbles. But actually, the second shot of crystals and the water helped get some of that barium taste out of my mouth. Personally, I think they ought to give you the crystals after the barium.

So she took pity on me and instead of making me stand on the platform and then her moving the platform to a horizontal position, she just made it horizontal and let me lay down. But then I had to roll over in a circle to make sure my tum was completely coated. This was not wise on the tech's part because it was all I could do NOT to hurl all that barium (remember, this was all on an empty stomach) all over the machine.

But I survived and got to poop barium for the rest of the day, but you don't want to hear about that so.. The tests were done and it was 10:30. My next appointment was to see a doctor at 12:30 for a physical and review of test results. I was nauseous and hungry and I had two hours to kill, but no vehicle to travel in. My Kindle and I trotted down to the cafeteria, which did not open until 11am and I read until the cafeteria opened. I got me some chicken tenders, which were nothing to write home about… although one could point out that I'm doing exactly that… and some breaded mushrooms, which were fabulous!! I haven't had the surgery yet, and I'd had my bloodwork, so I stopped in the gift shop and got some cookies.

I ate and read and felt much better. I attended my appointment with the doctor and was okayed for surgery – but again, the Lord has made travelling down this road too smooth for me to seriously consider that I wouldn't have been.

Having passed the bloodtests, Mom, Natalie, Tom and I went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner so I could mark another item off of my Bucket List. My friend/co-worker Shawna waxes so eloquent about this place every time she comes back from Indy that I knew I wanted to try it just once. And I was not disappointed. I discovered, though, that it is not the type of place to go if you want a quick meal, but it was very good. I had Strawberry Lemonade to drink – yummers!, a dish of bow-tie pasta in a very spicy sauce with chicken for dinner – very good and I'm seriously bummed that I had to leave my doggy box in the Burns' fridge, and then for the piece de resistance, I had the Chocolate Tuxedo Cream Cheesecake! We all got different cheesecakes and tasted each others. Frankly, I think Mom's Lemon Raspberry Cheesecake was the best of the four.

When we got home, Natalie and I relaxed in the hot tub and then I went to bed, having gotten up very early that day, not to mention having spent a good portion of it nauseous.

Thursday, Mom and I attended an all day class with first a nutritionist to learn about the vitamins that I'll have to take and the water I'll have to drink and the protein supplements I'll have to get in. It was very overwhelming and we went to Max & Erma's for Tortilla Soup to recover. Then we went back for an afternoon with the nurse – who basically read from a power point script. Sigh.. The monotony was broken up by another nurse who had the surgery 4 years ago and she was funny and answered questions I didn't even know I had and we received a prayer and blessing by the hospital chaplain – I cried, of course. (Hands up if you're surprised!)

Finally we hit the road for home. The drive was uneventful and beautiful. The cats were all pleased to have us return… except for Sophie who is still shunning me. Sigh..

So it was a successful trip. I'm glad it is over, because I think there was a wee bit of anxiety that for whatever reason I might not be cleared for surgery. My bucket listing comes to mind as a possible reason! So now we have 19 days until surgery. I have a few items left on my bucket list. And I have shopping to do… for vitamins, protein shakes, and baby food! Any of the new parents out there have suggestions as to favorite baby food flavors?

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam!!

2011-02-23T14:20:00.001-06:00

I have recently noticed an increase in the volume of spam I receive since I got my iPhone. Or it may be that since I check my email on the iphone, I don't check it often online, so when I do check it, the amount of spam has grown exponentially.

Either way, due to the volume, I have been able to notice a growing trend in the spam email I receive.

First, Orchard Bank really wants to give me a credit card. Probably because they know about the great deals I'm being offered for either a) breast implants, or b) the secret to a larger penis. Once I "improve" myself with one or both of those options, my social life will boom. In fact, it's already started.. both eHarmony and Singlesnet are vying for my attention. According to Singlesnet, there are already people lined up to meet me. They may only want me for my money, though… and by money, I mean the $1,000 gift cards to Wal-Mart that I keep winning. I mean… I won three yesterday alone! Now, if I don't want to risk being taken by a gold-digger, I can hook up with some old classmates instead. Per Classmates.com, more than a few of my former classmates are very eager to get reacquainted with me. I suppose I could invite them over for dinner. I have several coupons for free LARGE pizzas. Meanwhile, if the Wal-Mart gift card gravy train runs dry, there are Internet Jobs out there paying $600 a day!!! Once I get one of those jobs, I'll have a use for that FREE DELL LAPTOP or the FREE IPAD that I got for giving my opinion about whether I prefer COKE OR PEPSI!! Well, reading all of this UPPERCASE !!!-filled emails is giving me a headache, so I probably ought to head up to Canada for CHEEP DRUGS!! and maybe take a nap.

The Scarlet Letter - TP

2011-02-21T11:13:00.001-06:00

Exciting times continue to happen at the firm. You will recall that not only did we have a mad woman roaming around using the ladies room but NOT replacing empty TP rolls, but we had also had our very existence threatened by the purchasing of wood chip grade TP to begin with. Our buns wept tears of angst.

So the weekend that I was up in Indy for my doctor's appointment (more on that in another blog), I'm roaming around JoAnn's Superstore with my niece Natalie because she's going to sew me a stuffed Simon's Cat, but needed the appropriate accoutrement when I get a text from Shawn at the office advising that I'm missing all the excitement because we ran out of TP and John (the maintenance guy) went and bought CHARMIN!! I texted her back and asked her to save me a couple of sheets! It was very exciting times.

So last week, upon my return, I discovered that there was still Charmin in the stalls. It was a very cushy week. In fact, after learning that the wood chips had been restocked, I suggested that someone sneak into the men's room and switch out any remaining Charmin for wood chips, so that we, the ladies with the delicate tooshies, might hoard the remainder. I don't know if anyone took my suggestion, but I do know that mid-week the supply of Charmin in the ladies room tripled!

By Friday of last week, things had gotten to critical mass. Shawn posted instruction sheets (see the picture) on how to change the roll in each stall. I think she really thought that would solve the problem. However, later in the afternoon, I was in my favorite stall, and someone entered the other stall. I looked at the person's shoes, in case it was someone I wanted to chat with. I did not recognize the shoes, so I remained quiet. Now, this was after 4:30 on a Friday, and I was hoping to nap my way through to 5:00 pm, but I think everyone was on the same schedule as I was, because all of a sudden we have Grand Central Station in there. Shoes leaves before I see who she was and someone else goes into that stall. I exit and take my time washing my hands because, again, I don't want to go back to work.

As I'm standing there looking at the picture in the bathroom, contemplating a career as an artist, Shawn exits the "other" stall with an empty roll of TP in her hands and a look of such forlorn sadness on her face that I truly felt sorry for her. She says that she honestly thought the drawing she hung in the stalls would solve the problem. I told her I was sorry. She said she just wanted to know WHO it was.. then the light bulb goes on in Rose's head and I said, "I know who it was! … or, at least I know what shoes she is wearing!"

So the game was afoot! Literally, since there were shoes involved. I started roaming around the 2^nd floor, figuring it was safe to assume that since it was the 2^nd floor ladies room, that the culprit was a 2^nd floorer. I looked and was able to eliminate everyone on the 2^nd floor, including the female attorneys, and they all wanted to know why I was checking out their footwear. Since I'd proven their innocence, I was able explain. Then, I headed upstairs to the 3^rd floor. As I passed the reception desk, Toone caught me and, after checking out her shoes, I stood there chatting when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the SHOES!! Now, as this blog is read by people all over the world… or at least the continent (hi, Heather!),… and none of you know this person anyway, the name will be changed to protect the lazy.... She will forever be known in this blog as "Shoes." (Not to be confused with "Stripper Shoes", but that's another story.)

Anyway, it was all I could do NOT to skip down the main stairway to Shawn's office to tell her the results of my investigation. On my way back to my desk, everyone asked if my investigation was successful, and I HAD to share with them. It has been suggested that we might want to sew up a scarlet TP a la Hester Prynne and leave it on Shoes's desk. I'm thinking that in addition to being lazy, Shoes is also not well-endowed in the mental arena, so it would go right over her head. Much like at the last support staff meeting when Shawna brought up the topic for the 2^nd time, Shoes was sitting right beside me and Shawna's angst went right over her head that time too.

Super Bowl Sunday

2011-02-06T17:38:00.009-06:00

Ok, we started the afternoon out by having lunch at Olive Garden with Alma Shufflebarger - a distant relative of Dad's. It was very enjoyable and before we knew it, we'd been there two and half hours! I wasn't sure going into the lunch because 1) I had a headache that had not even been dented by the two Exedrin I took before church (although I was able to stay awake for the sermon, which was not a blessing considering the aforementioned headache... I think a nap might have helped); B) I didn't even know this woman (but my meds have made it a lot easier to talk to strangers, so that wasn't a major concern); and lastly, because going to Olive Garden makes the odds of having nachos and other occasion-related munchies minimal.

Mom and I got home about 3pm. In time to spend a lovely winter afternoon snuggled up on the couch with my boy, reading the Sunday ads and doing the crossword puzzle, and watching the end of the Terminator. Terminator 2 came on about 4:30. I mention this only because shortly after 5, I left the living room to go to my room to watch the game and I assumed Mom would change the channel, but as of an hour later when I went in to heat up the leftover breadsticks, she was still watching it.

I am SO not a sports person. But believe it or not, I do enjoy watching the Super Bowl. In college (1988, I think), I even hosted a Super Bowl party in my dorm room. I believe the Redskins were playing someone.

I've even actually attended several football games in my life. First, in the 8th (?) grade, the band teacher forced us to attend a football game and play for the first half. I recall nothing of that game. Then in college, while at DePauw, there was nothing much to do in Greencastle on a Saturday afternoon, so my friends and I went to the games. After having the rules explained to me, I enjoyed them.

So that is it, really, post-DePauw, I've hidden my enjoyment of football and limited that to the annual watching of the Super Bowl. There's much I don't understand and frankly, just don't care about, such as which teams are playing, but I do enjoy a good game.

Of course, part of my enjoyment is the commercials. I like to have seen the commercials so I know what they're talking about tomorrow on the radio and internet.

So far my favorite commercial is the Doritos commercial with the guy apartment sitting for his friend and he lets the fish and the plant die, but brings them back to life with Doritos, then brings grandpa back to life by (I suppose) adding Doritos to his ashes! Very cute.

Either someone just used the litter box or... actually I think it was our little natural gas producer, Cleo. She just wandered in, let fly with a noxious effluvium, and then wandered out. Humpf. We don't call her Cleo Putin for nothing.

Another adorable one is for some Volkswagon car with the kid dressed up like Darth Vader, trying to use his "powers" to do a variety of things around the house.. not sure what he was trying to get the dog to do... and then the father using his keyless starter to remotely start the car and make the kid think he'd succeeded. I saw that one yesterday on the Saturday Morning show, but it was just as cute this time.

Is there another Transformers moving coming out this summer? What up with the Transformer on the screen everytime we come back from commercial?

Does anyone know if Keebler still makes those round cookies with the fudge stripes on them? I wonder if I could convince Mom to go make a cookie run...

Half time - what are the odds that Gerard Butler'll be on there and he'll have a wardrobe malfunction?

So obviously my Words With Friends playmates are not watching the game. :) What the heck is 'foveate'??

Ok, not impressed so far by the half time show... and I even like the Black-Eyed Peas. Bring back Joe and Troy. Ooh, Usher... :) Yikes, Fergie, you're flat, babes.

Ok, get the game back on so I can get up and er.. use the litter box.

Fumble!!

Ok, I have no idea what I just ate. It was in the cat candy jar... thought it was a Reese's peanut butter cup... it wasn't.

Ozzy and Bieber ... "what's a 'bieber'?" too funny!

Ok, in the first commercial we had with Eminem in it, he said that he doesn't do commercials.. Now we just saw his SECOND commercial of the evening. The world is going higgledy-piggledy!

I'm getting bored with this game and this blog. I just want Glee to come on. Me and my phone, and the boy, are going to crawl in bed and play mahjong until the game is over. Thanks for spending this Super Bowl Sunday with me.

This Entry Has No Title

2011-01-28T16:01:00.001-06:00

I have an appointment for next week to go to Carmel, Indiana to meet with a doctor to discuss gastric bypass or lap band surgery. It's something that I've thought about for years, but frankly, never seriously considered because I don't have the money for it and my insurance doesn't cover it. But Mom and I talked about it and she said that she felt that she'd rather give me some of my inheritance now and have me use it for something that would allow me to enjoy life and be healthy, (and be around to help her in her dotage, I'm sure), than to hoard it until she dies and I'm too old to do anything about it. Plus this way, she'll be around to help me recupe...

After many tears and talking to a family friend who had successful surgery about two years ago, I called this doctor and got an appointment set up. There are a lot of questions. I know there are three different types of surgery and I'm sure there are pluses and minuses to each, not the least of which is cost. I don't know what type of recuperation periods we're talking, or even what I'll be able to eat for the rest of my life. Since there's no insurance requiring six months of thinking about it first, I don't even know … I mean, I might even get scheduled for in a month or so. I've spoken with Shawn, our HR peep at work about it. Her daughter had it several years ago, and Shawn is very supportive and happy for me. We've talked about short-term disability and all sorts of official things. I've told Carrie and warned her that I'll be out for probably at least two weeks, maybe longer. I have not told Steve.

Steve is a man. And he's going to have questions. Questions I don't yet have answers to. So I figure he can wait until after my appointment next week to find out the good news. Hopefully we'll know a time schedule by then.

But I'm thinking Steve is getting suspicious… I reminded him yesterday afternoon that I would be off next Thursday and Friday. Frankly, I think I could tell him at 9am that I'm leaving at 10am to go have my head chopped off, and he'd still be surprised when I got up to leave an hour later! Anyway, he asked "Are you having your surgery?" Of course he meant my carpal tunnel surgery which I have told him about but which, at this time, has not yet been scheduled because that doctor wants to see what I find out in Carmel first. But me, full of guilt for not telling Steve yet, I just stood there looking like a deer in headlights… duh… (I know, I should be impressed that he remembers that I'm having carpal tunnel surgery!)

Then, today he came back from lunch and he asked what I was working on (not in a checking up on me kind of way, but more like I looked very engrossed in it) and I replied that I was updating my instructions for how to run his MOnday morning reports … because I agreed not to take another Monday off until I got them updated, because there was a Monday earlier this month that I took off because I was a craven coward and there was a wee bit of ice on the roads and someone else ran his reports using 5 year old instructions and his reports were ruined, it spoiled his whole week. Anyway, back to today, he jokingly said, "Are you planning on taking Monday off?" And I'm like, "well, you know I'm going to be off for a couple of weeks for… uh….. uhm… (more deer in headlights)…uh, the trip to London, yeah, in June." Like it's that urgent that I update these instructions for a trip that's 5 months away.

My only consolation is that he's a man, and therefore not that observant to the subtleties in the actions/responses of the women in his life. I'm pretty sure his wife would agree.

Can You Spare a Square?

2011-01-24T12:49:00.000-06:00

It never ceases to amaze me, or maybe it's Murphy's Law (and if I ever met that SOB!...), that if the copier/printer is going to run out of paper/toner, it's going to do it while I need to print/copy something. Likewise, it always seems that if the roll of TP in the ladies room is going to run out, it's going to happen to me. I realize that there are too many people using the ladies room too many times each day for them to only run out on my watch, so to speak, but that was the way it always seemed. Until of late....

My friend Shawna... she's a keeper, so she doesn't get an alias... In the past, oh, 6-9 months, I have come to notice that she has taken over my role as the person for whom the toilet paper runs out. Or more to the point, she is the person who enters the stall AFTER the person for whom the TP ran out. And THAT PERSON ALWAYS leaves the roll empty. I don't know if it's the drugs, the maturity that comes with age, or what, but I'm happy to say that this doesn't bother me any more. Shawna, Lord love her, though, is downright militant about it!

Another friend, and our HR person, Shawn ... is there something to that name?? .... also seems to be on a schedule following THAT PERSON. So of late, the two of them have been conspiring to do vile and evil things to THAT PERSON. Shawna has brought up the sad state of TP etiquette in our monthly support staff meetings twice now... it would appear that THAT PERSON either has missed these two particular meetings or isn't someone who generally attends them. Otherwise, THAT PERSON would know that her days are numbered.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading an email... I get a daily email from this mystery book thing where they email you a chapter of a book a day for a week with the thought that by then you'll know if you're interested in getting the book either through your library or whatever. Each day's offering is introduced by the "editor" and she generally rambles on about whatever is going on in her life... like anyone cares.. wait a minute... hmmm... anyway, back to that morning's email. I generally skip the ramblings of this editor... hmm... ramblings... hmmm.. but I read them that morning. I have reprinted the germane portion here:

Dear Reader,

I had an epiphany in the bathroom the other day and it reminded me of an email I received from a book club reader years ago. I'd written a column about finding my purpose in life, and the reader wrote to share how one of her life's frustrations, had also become one of her callings in life. Every time she used a bathroom she faced an empty toilet paper roll, so she'd have to change it, and it drove her crazy. "How could people be so rude? Use the last few squares and then not replace the roll?"

Even when this woman was on vacation, touring a castle in Europe, and she had to use the bathroom--even there--she faced an empty toilet paper roll. But the TP gods shined down upon her that day and opened her eyes to the fact that everyone has assignments in this life, tasks they are expected to do to make the world run smoother, and one of her assignments was to change the toilet paper roll. She joyfully accepted her assignment that day, and now whenever she faces an empty TP roll, she cheerfully changes it. "Though I do wish folks wouldn't hide the extra rolls," she said, "sometimes I have to do a lot of digging through bathroom cupboards and vanities to find the toilet paper."

Changing the toilet paper roll--someone's calling in life? Not too glamorous you might say, but aren't you happy that when you need it, someone's made sure it's there?

The TP gods were busy again the other day handing out assignments and I was on the receiving end. When Consuelo, the woman who cleans my house, cleans the bathroom, one of the special things she does is leave behind a fancy V-fold on the end of the toilet paper roll. Strange as it may sound, it makes me feel kind of special when I see the fancy fold waiting for me--like I'm queen for a day. So the other day after Consuelo left, when I looked over at the TP roll, I decided that from now on whenever I leave a necessary room, one of my "callings" is to leave a fancy fold behind. Kind of like paying for the car behind me at the tollbooth, the next person will undoubtedly smile and feel like queen or king for a day, too.

So anyway, I forwarded this email to Shawn and Shawna and both found it quite entertaining. Of late, it is not an unusual occurence to go into a stall in the ladies room and find the TP folded into a V-fold. Sometimes I even do it myself.

Shawna has a plan, though and this past week, after a particularly frustrating day, she shared her evil plot with me. She said that the next time she goes in and finds an empty roll, she's going to make off with all of the rolls of TP, so whoever THAT PERSON is will know how it feels. This of course reminded me of that Seinfeld episode where Elaine was in a ladies room somewhere and didn't notice that the stall was without TP until too late. And she asked the person in the next stall if they could "spare a square" and that person said no...which, of course, made the rest of that particular episode of the "show about nothing" all about "who can't spare a square!?"

I'm was very concerned about Shawna's evil plot, but in light of the news that Shawn gave me after work the other night, now not so much. Shawn let me in on the fact that the landlord is making the cleaning lady purchase a "cheaper" grade of TP. Now Shawn and I were both amazed that there IS, in fact, a cheaper grade of TP, but that fact aside, since it would appear that the stalls will now be stocked with wood chips, I'm thinking about just making it my policy to keep my own stash. I can see it now, me walking to the other side of the building, (because of course the ladies room is on the directly opposite side of the building from my desk - going to the restroom is the only exercise I get most days) carrying my roll of TP with me and passing one of the managing partners... you name it, I can't imagine any of them making the situation less embarassing than another... on the way.

Oh, I know! Maybe I'll just start stuffing my bra each morning with TP . By the end of the day I'd be back to normal size. That would actually be interesting to do, just to see if anyone notices and/or comments.

Belated 2010 Wrap-up

2011-01-23T15:01:00.003-06:00

Ok, Heather (and all my other fans!), I'm sorry that I've been silent the past few months.

When we last left our heroine, Rose and Mom had just moved into a condo in Evansville and were praying for a buyer for the house in Wadesville. In fact, the house went on the market the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. The sign was put in the yard on Wednesday. So fast forward to the Friday after Thanksgiving. I had to work and mom went out to the house to paint a door or something. Along about 11:00 that morning, my phone rings and it's mom. She said that she was there painting and about 10, there was a knock on the door... and guess who was there!? I was thinking possibly Gerard Butler had finally come to his senses and decided to track me down, but.. she said there was a young man and his fiancee there to look at the house! OMG!

Long story short, as none of us want to live through the entire month of December at this point, that young man bought the house! The closing was on December 31st and afterwards Mom and I went to the bank to deposit the check and then we went to the Olive Garden to celebrate!

We were happy to start 2011 with one less concern on our shoulders.

Let's see, what else happened in December? Well, mom turned 70 and I felt it was time for another surprise birthday party. See, the last surprise b-day party I planned was for Dad (birthday in October) and Mom (birthday in December) in November of the year they both turned 50. Since it was several weeks either before or after their respective birthdays, that was on truly a surprise. This birthday surprise had more possibility of me blowing it since I live with mom and since she is truly my best friend, I tell her most everything. So I had to think before I just popped out with "ordered the cake today.." or "Holly emailed, Natalie won't be able to come down.." or "we ought to get our Christmas presents bought, wrapped and together, so Holly and Haley can take them back up with them in case the weather is bad and we can't go up for Christmas..." But I managed to succeed. Of course, it helped that Mom slipped and fell on the ice twice the day before her birthday and broke her fibula, so she was legitimately elsewhere mentally and not paying attention to my slips.

The party was a success with family and friends from church in attendance. All of the grandkids except Natalie (she had a final exam that day) were able to come down and Mom, either because of or in spite of the broken leg, was surprised and had a good time.

For Christmas, Mom and I trekked up north and had a lovely time with Ho and Ha's families. They had had snow that week, so we were able to have a White Christmas despite the weather here not playing along. The only thing I didn't understand was Santa putting a bag of coal, even if it was made of chocolate and rice krispies, in my stocking... :( As per my usual, the gifts I gave were received with lots of excitement, whether it was cash, gift card, or TARDIS cookie jars.

Now the holidays are over and Mom and I are snuggled up in the condo, with hot cocoa and 4 cats, watching the lake freeze. I'm only left with one question... why haven't we used the fireplace more often??

Later, peeps. I'll try to do better in the new year, Heather. I realize that you are stuck there in Mexico and your only access to Rose is via this blog, so keeping that in mind, I'll do better. Just as a preview, there are exciting things in Rose's future: trips to London, surgery(s?), and being involved in 2011's biggest viral You Tube video!! Stay tuned...

Review - Despicable Me

2011-01-23T12:40:00.000-06:00

(Disclaimer: If you haven’t seen this movie, there may be information in this review that might be considered a “spoiler” - although I consciously try not to put major spoiler info in my reviews. Proceed with caution.)

Note: I wrote this in July of 2010 and for some reason did not "Publish" it. Don't know why, but the sentiments contained within are still valid - and the DVD did come out last month, so...

Mom and I went to go see Despicable Me over the weekend. I wanted to see it for a variety of reasons – 1) in the preview, I adored the part where the little girl tries to win the stuffed unicorn and fails and then when Dr. Gru basically blows the carnival game up in order to win her the unicorn, she is so excited and screams “It’s so FLUFFY!”; 2) I enjoy Steve Carrell – especially last week when he was a guest on The Colbert Report and the interview session degenerated into an “Even Steph(v)en” segment like from in the good ol’days of the Daily Show… where was I?; 3) but let’s face it, the main reason I wanted to go see this movie was the minions.

Long time readers (Shout out to the fans!) know of my lifelong (or at least for the past few years) desire to have minions. So obviously, this movie was perfect research for later in life when I finally realize my dream and have me some minions. I could sit here and rant about why I want minions… short minions, tall minions, filet minions… hahahahaha!! Er… back to the movie…

The hero of Despicable Me is the spindly-legged, pointy-nosed Dr. Gru. He also had a lifelong dream… to go to the moon. His mother did her best to squish the young boy’s dreams, but they stayed with him. So as a grown man, Dr. Gru becomes a villain – his successes include stealing the Times Square Jumbo-tron, the Statue of Liberty, and the Eiffel Tower (the Las Vegas versions of the last two). But now a young evil villain upstart is trying to outshine him, so Dr. Gru comes up with his plan to go to the moon, shrink the moon, and then steal the moon, making him the world’s greatest villain.

But first, he has to get a loan from the Bank of Evil (formerly Lehman Brothers) to build the rocket; but in order to get that loan, he must first steal the shrink ray from another band of evil doers.

Meanwhile, three young orphan sisters are out trying to sell cookies for the woman running the orphanage and their path crosses that of Dr. Gru. He gets the idea of using them to help him steal the shrink ray from his arch enemy. So he adopts them.

Yes, it’s sort of predictable that the “evil” Dr. Gru is going to fall in love with these kids (and vice versa) but the way it plays out is very heart-warming and fun. Especially the aforementioned scene with the carnival game and the little girl and the FLUFFY! stuffed unicorn.

I think it is sort of telling (both about me and the movies) that I enjoy going to so-called “kids” movies. Of the 6 or 7 movie previews shown before Despicable Me, I want to go see at least 4 of them – a much higher percentage than for your average “adult” previews. The best kids movies have the inside jokes/gags that make them fun for adults too, and well, I’ve always been a child at heart. As it was, Despicable Me was thoroughly enjoyed by both my inner child and my outer adult – which is a good thing because the adult doesn’t like paying for crappy movies… and the inner child suckers her into going to quite a few! (Did anyone else go see Hoodwinked? If so, you get my point.) Four thumbs up for Despicable Me!

Happy Thanksgiving 2010

2010-11-25T16:57:00.004-06:00

As I woke up this Thanksgiving morning, with one cat on my bladder and one cat pawing my face because she was hungry, I started contemplating what all I had to be thankful for.

In no particular order of importance,...

I'm thankful that my precious fluffy baby girl has recovered from near death, potential liver failure, and a life of diabetes. She is one healthy fluffy baby and I praise God for the joy these four-footed critters have brought into my life in the past several years.

I'm thankful for my job. I do not enjoy having to work for a living, but then who does? :) But in this economy, not only do I have a well paying job, but a job working with people I like and respect -- for the most part, that is!

I'm thankful that I have a warm happy home to come home to every evening. Each morning on the way to work, I pass homeless-looking men wandering around downtown Evansville, and I am reminded how fortunate we are.

Speaking of our warm happy home, I'm so very thankful for the wonderful family and friends who have helped mom and me both move into our new condo and get the house in Wadesville prepared for sale. My sisters and parts of their familys have been down several weekends in the past couple of months to help pack, paint, clean, transport stuff, put stuff away (Holly, we're still looking for stuff!) and my aunt Chris and her family came up and painted, cleaned, and worked on the plumbing, and a whole crew of people from our church came out to the house at 4pm on a Friday, packed all the furniture, including a piano, 3 filing cabinets, 6 dressers, three beds and trekked it all out to the condo, caravan-style and then carted it all up to our second floor condo. I'm pretty sure the piano almost made a few of them lose their religion! :)

I'm thankful for mom. I come home from work each evening to her smiling face and, usually, a home-cooked meal. Having lived by myself for 14 years, I truly appreciate what she does for me. I probably take her for granted, but hopefully not too often. I know that someday I will live alone again, and I will miss her twice as much.

I'm thankful for my general good health. Yes, I'm too heavy and yes, I have high blood pressure and cholesterol, and I have this weird wooshing in my right ear, but generally, I'm pretty good. Or at least things could be worse. I'm also thankful that mom is in pretty good health. I worry about her, with her rhuematoid arthritis and she's almost 70, and she's exhausted herself throughout this whole move. But now that we've moved, she can just spend the winter in our lovely new home resting and taking care of herself.

I'm also very thankful for elevators. The elevator worked through the evening of the actual move, but pooped out the next day. Since then, we've had to cart boxes up the stairs, along with groceries and other stuff. Meanwhile, we've been collecting trash like no one's business, and we've been having to trek to all down. But praise God, the elevator man came and got the elevator working yesterday. This morning, we rode the trash downstairs in the elevator and mom was singing "Praise the Lord!" the entire trip!

I'm also thankful for hot chocolate with tiny marshmellows. This afternoon, mom and I went to the house in Wadeville to clean out the garage. Of course it was 40 degrees and pouring rain, but we did it. I forced mom to stay in the garage and just bring me things while I, wearing my bright yellow rain poncho from when we went to Disney World with Mickey Mouse on the back, drug all the trash over into the trash dumpster. We worked about an hour until we filled the dumpster - my clothes were soaked down to my undies, and my fingers and toes were frozen. When we got back home, I changed into my warm fuzzies, mom made hot cocoa, and I sat here on the couch with my big fluffy girl and drank my cocoa and we watched Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on HBO (for some reason we have it for free at the moment - but I figure the cable company will figure it out and turn it off soon, so...) We discussed turning on the fireplace, but we'd have had to move the stuff sitting on the hearth in front of it, so we ixnayed that idea.

Long story short, Rose has a lot to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving Day.

Road Trip!

2010-10-28T10:45:00.001-05:00

About a six weeks ago, shortly after Glen Beck's rally in Washington DC, there was an uprising on the internets that Steven Colbert should have a rally. I thought that sounded fabulous and decided that if it were to truly come about, I should see about going.

When Colbert and Jon Stewart returned from their Labor Day vacations, they eluded to an announcement that would be coming shortly. My hopes jumped.

After two weeks of hints, they finally announced Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity and Colbert's March to Keep Fear Alive. I immediately emailed my sister, Haley, the only person I thought I might be able to convince to join me in attending a crazy event such as these, and she was game!

So we are off! The rally is this coming Saturday, Oct. 30^th, on the National Mall in Washington DC. We have a hotel room in Arlington, VA, just a couple of blocks from the Metro station. I am going up to Indianapolis this afternoon. Haley and I will jump in her buggy on Friday morning and be D.C. Bound!

I've never done anything as crazy as this, and I'm sure I'll never have the opportunity, let alone the nerve, to do it again. Frankly, I'm sort of nervous – I'm not good with crowds, you know, and they're expecting a whopper!

Today, I found the preliminary schedule for the event online:

10:00 a.m.: The pre-pre-show begins with videos and music on the jumbotron to keep the gathering crowd friendly and entertained.
Noon: The pre-show starts with a performance from The Roots.
12:40: A comedian (to be determined) warms up the audience.
12:57: A video countdown with a show introduction.
1:00: The show kicks off with the national anthem by a musical guest (to be announced).
1:05: Mr. Stewart welcomes the crowd – whose projected size is ballooning daily. Currently, there are 200,000 sign-ups on the official Facebook page alone.
1:20: Mr. Colbert enters, and two actors – Don Novello [Fr Guido Sarducci] and Sam Waterston – perform readings.
1:40: Jeff Tweedy and Mavis Staple perform for 10 minutes, followed by Stewart and Colbert until 2 p.m.
2:15: Sheryl Crow performs for five minutes, followed by speakers and guests (to be determined).
2:30: Musical guests (also still being lined up) come on.
2:40: The show turns to a pre-taped sequence – The Sanity and Fear Awards.

So after I get off work, all I have to do is hit a gas station for fuel and munchies, and I'll be off! I have the iPhone available for pics and status updates on Facebook. I can also blog from the road, although typing on that thing isn't convenient, so any blog entries will be short and to the point. I've got my camera and almost no hopes whatsoever of getting very close to my heroes, but maybe I'll have pics. Wish me luck!

Merle - A True Man

2010-10-20T17:18:00.001-05:00

I have come to the conclusion that Merle, although some parts may be missing or nonfunctional, is a true man.

His appointment for his calendar photograph was Saturday, the 16th. The last time I saw him was Monday, the 11th. I went outside each morning, lovingly carrying his bowl of Meow Mix and called in my not-quite-so-dulcet-it's-7-AM-voice for him to come to breakfast. I would place it on the porch and call him until my voice cracked or the cold concrete made my feet run inside on their own volition due to frostbite. Nothing.

But that was ok. I knew that he would show up on Saturday morning, like a normal man, all "what!?" Looking innocent and handsome and making me want to punt him to Poseyville and give him loving scritches at the same time.

Each morning, the tone of my voice grew more frantic and my feet were able to withstand higher levels of hypothermia because I knew that this was an important mission.

Saturday morning. His appointment is at 8:15. I've timed the trip and I know it will take 30 minutes to get there. I wake up at 6:00 - I SET THE ALARM FOR A SATURDAY! I don't do this often and generally it's for important things like meeting the Pope! Not that I've met the Pope, or am even Catholic, that is not the point. Not only did I set the alarm for 6, but I actually got up at 6. I got ready and did a little farming, because a girl has her priorities, and at 6:45 I went outside just knowing that the handsome devil would be there.

He was not. I called. And called. Nothing.

I went back inside and played solitare on my iPhone. (Have I blogged that I went ahead and got my iPhone? - more on that later, I'm sure.)

7:00 - I went outside and called. Nothing.

Have I mentioned that I woke up with a sore throat and aching head? I would have given anything to say screw it and go back to bed. But I KNEW this was important, damn it!

Back inside. The indoor bunch think I've gone mad... and I'm not sure they are wrong.

7:15 -- outside - nothing.

7:30 -- ditto.

7:45 -- I call the photographers and reschedule the diva's (is there a male diva?) appointment. Now he has an appointment for tomorrow morning. But I'm not overly concerned because I've talked to the paper and if he doesn't get his picture taken, they will print the picture we submitted. And frankly, I don't care how good Bob Straub is, I've met Merle. I've taken Merle's picture. I don't see Bob Straub getting a better picture than the one Haley took. So we'll see what happens. Now that we have a contingency plan, I'm guessing he'll be sitting on the front porch looking at me all handsome like tonight when I get home. Sigh.

We're Movin' on Up!

2010-10-12T14:20:00.001-05:00

Things have been busy for Rose the past couple of weeks. I can't recall if I've mentioned this before, but I made a comment to mom at one point over the summer, while we were working out in the yard, that at some point she was going to have to accept that she's almost 70 and isn't/ won't be able to maintain the place and I'm lazy and I have no desire to. I pointed out that if she wasn't ready yet, it was fine, but surely it would be better to make the decision to move/sell the place on her own terms rather than out of necessity. She nodded and said "yep," and I went on trimming the forsythia bush.

Like a week or so later, she brings home a "for sale by owner" magazine from the grocery store just to see what is out there. Says she thinks we can aim to put the house on the market come springtime.

A Sunday about a week later, we see that the condo association across the road from our church has an open house that afternoon, so we go. I LOVED it. Hard wood floors, three nice bedrooms, a 2-car garage. But mom said, probably correctly, that it was too much – money and room – for us. Besides, we need to wait until the spring. So we drove home.

A couple of weeks later, she comes home from a Tuesday morning bible study telling me that there's another, smaller condo, in the same place having an open house Sunday. So we go. This condo is in a building containing eight units, and is on the second floor with a "bonus" room (i.e. 3^rd bedroom) on the third floor. It has a balcony overlooking the woods and the lake. It is marvelous! I LOVED it on sight. I figure the cats will fully enjoy chasing each other up and down the stairs to the 3^rd floor. The price is better, but… Also, in that Sunday's paper, there's a condo for sale by owner listed... we go. It had its niceties, but I preferred the first one of the day. By the end of the evening, mom is having a "heavy feeling" in her chest and thinks we should wait until spring. Ok.

The next weekend, Haley comes down ready to look at condos. But we're waiting, so all she gets to see is the outside of both of them.

Mom has me print off all the info from the county assessor and treasurer websites about the condo, but she still has questions about buying real estate that I can't answer, so I hook her up with Jennifer, my mentor in all things legal, and she has a nice phone conversation while I watch Glee on Tuesday. After she's done talking to Jennifer, she tells me to contact the bank about getting pre-approval on a loan and Mom'll make an appointment for the weekend to see the condo. We be back on! So I called Holly, (Haley having just been down I didn't figure she'd want to come back the next weekend), to see if she (Holly) might be interested in coming down to see the condo on Saturday.

Saturday, Mom, Holly and I pack up the party van and go to town to see the condo. Holly LOVES it and tells us to go for it. By the time we leave it, we have an appointment to come back in the next afternoon to fill out the papers for an official offer.

Sunday, after church and lunch, we go and make the "official" offer and my headache starts. (And the headache didn't go away until much drugs, both Rx and OTC, and a good night's sleep later.) But just a few hours later, we receive the news that the offer was accepted as written!

Monday, my instructions were to find a home inspector and arrange for an inspection AND to call the woman at the bank…. Not OUR bank, mind you, because that woman NEVER (and still has not as of this writing) returned my initial phone call. I talked to Steve about his recommending an inspector and he tells me to call the guy on the other side of the big arbitration case we had a couple summers ago. We ended up with an appointment for Friday morning for the inspection and Friday afternoon for the bank to fill out the loan papers.

Saturday, mom and I met with the realtor about asking the sellers to fix the few minor issues the inspector came up with.

So, here it is, Tuesday. Mom is out of town, gone to San Diego with Aunt Chris to visit their other sister Bonnie for 10 days. I'm left here herding cats, preparing for our office's bosses day luncheon/celebration, and waiting for word from the bank (re: the pre-approval of the loan) and the realtor (re: sellers' response to inspection).

Home/property ownership seems to be the final hurdle for me to jump before I land squarely in "adulthood." And I'm not keen on that jump. I've been happy being a (relatively) obligation free, child-like soul all these years… I figure it's what kept me young at heart. But now I'm going to have a MORTGAGE! Yikes! I can foresee future blogs regarding the property tax issues and zoning questions and filing the LONG form for taxes! I shudder at the whole idea! I need a nap and am really missing kindergarten right now. Sigh..

Merle - The Rest of the Story

2010-10-11T16:24:00.000-05:00

As promised, I'm letting my "out of town" followers know the outcome of the "election"/calendar contest. Merle got 968 votes and placed #12 (top 14 go in the calendar), so he's in! We are all very excited for Merle. Merle, however, remains stoic on the subject. So the beautiful picture that Haley took that shows off his beautiful eyes will be in the calendar, right? Wrong. Friday, as Mom and I are driving to the bank (more on that later) I get a call from a woman at the Courier congratulating me and Merle on his getting in the calendar and telling me that I need to call Bob Straub Photography to make an appointment for Merle to get his picture taken for the calendar! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? I haven't had the heart yet to tell Haley as I know it'll break her heart that the picture she worked so hard to get and is so, rightfully, proud of will not be in the calendar. But take heart! My thoughts are there is still hope. Frankly, Merle is an outdoor cat. Merle isn't fond of strangers. Merle is not the easiest subject to work with. Merle likes to go on walkabouts, so it isn't even guaranteed that he'll be around on Saturday (the day of his appointment) for me to even attempt to nab him (by myself, as mom is in San Diego this week) to get him there. So in my mind, there is still a possibility that they'll (have to) use Haley's picture… so I haven't told her yet. Sigh.

Vote for Merle!

2010-09-17T19:53:00.005-05:00

The Evansville Courier Press is having its annual “Pet Idol” calendar contest to benefit the Tri-State Newspaper in Education Foundation. I’m not sure what this is or what they do, but…a couple of weeks ago, Haley was down and she took a picture, at my request, of Merle. I had tried, because he is so handsome and those eyes are so incredible. But it wasn’t a one person job. Every time I’d get ready to snap the pic, he’d walk toward me or walk away. I thought with Haley handling the camera, I could herd Merle. The result is photographic history.

So, I entered the picture of Merle into this contest. The top 13 vote getters will have their pic in a calendar (sold for donations to this foundation) for 2011. The official pictures came out for the first time in Sunday’s paper – in black and white. WHAT!? How can his adoring fans get the true feel of those eyes in BLACK AND WHITE!?

As I’ve written before, Merle has got to the point in a young male (mostly) cat’s life when he roams. Probably since spring, he’s spent more time away then he’s spent at home. But since his picture was in the paper, he’s been there every morning when I open the door. Frankly, I think he’s keeping it close to home to avoid his groupies. Not that he could do much with said groupies… or could he? Do the parts still work? Hmm… In retrospect, it’s too bad we “fixed” him, he could have passed those eyes on to another generation (or six.)

I got to work Monday and promptly emailed Merle’s picture (in color) to everyone in my email address book… whether I’ve spoken to them in the past 10 years or not!... and asked them to vote for Merle. I’ve received a variety of emails back from people, it’s been fun. My cousin Sara asked me if he was named after Merle Hazel (a little old man who is somehow related to us, or at least he always comes to the Barger Family Reunions in July). I wrote her back with the following story of how Merle got his name:

He was one of three boy kittens and I drove out to Wadesville early one morning before work to help corral them because Mom and Dad had an appointment for them with the vet to be fixed. They still had not decided on names for the kittens, so I tried one last time and pointed out that the vet was going to want names. So Dad say, “Ok, Willie Nelson”. And I was like, “Uh for all three of them??” And then he said “Willie, Waylon, and the boys.” I said, “You’re going to name this one, ‘The Boys’?” (Especially since ‘the boys’ were the reason for the visit to the vet!) So finally, we ended up with Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and Merle Haggard. Of course, none of us are country music fans, but that was beside the point. (Willie just disappeared as male cats of a certain age tend to do in the country. Waylon was run over in the road -although I think it would have been more fitting for Willie to be run over so I could say he was playing “on the road
again.”)

Merle is entry #17 in the contest, and as of Thursday (the last time they updated the stats on the website) he’s in 2^nd place!! I think it’s a wasted opportunity that you can’t vote online (and wrote the paper and told them so), so I set up “Vote 4 Merle” Headquarters at my desk at work.

I’m collecting fundage and will take care of turning the money in for Merle. Greg even donated the contents of the “Curse Jar” into the fund for Merle. (Since most of the money in said jar was FROM Greg, this was nice.)

Voting runs until Friday, October 1^st. And the winners will be announced on Sunday, October 3^rd. For all of my many fabulous readers everywhere, IF you are interested in voting for Merle, he would appreciate your vote. You can call in your vote to 1-866-683-1724 and pay by credit card – votes are $.25 per vote. Either way, you KNOW I’ll let you know the election results after October 3^rd.

Inherit the Wind

2010-09-12T19:40:00.000-05:00

I am my father’s daughter. I impressed Mom the other night when, about 9:00 pm, I opened up the box that my new Dish receiver came in (the old one had been having problems and what with the new TV Season coming up, I had to get it fixed), hooked it up, and got it working correctly in about 30-40 minutes. It wouldn’t have taken that long, but it involved me getting down on the floor and unplugging the old one, while removing the cats from the area where I was trying to work, then getting up and dusting, then getting back down, removing the cats again, and plugging the new receiver back in, all while continuously fighting to keep the cats, specifically Gizmo and Cleo, out of my way. I’m pleased to say the problems have been resolved. Cats aside, Dad had his way with electronic equipment. He worked for 25 years as a TV repairman. Now, I’m not one to open up something and work on the innards – Haley inherited that trait – but I do seem to be able to get things to work without having to read much, if any, of the instruction manuals! (This bodes well for the advent of my iPhone!)

I inherited another trait from my father. No matter where he went, he liked to back the car/van/truck/whatever into his parking spot. At home, at church, at the mall. The man loved to back the car into parking spots. I seem to have got this from him. The other morning, I was getting out of my car, in the “big boy” parking lot, and the partner beside whom I park happened to be arriving at the same time and he noted that I always seem to be backed into my spot. I responded that it aids in making a quick getaway. He looked at me oddly… they never seem to know how to respond to me. And then I said that I inherited it from Dad and how it always drove Mom nuts (in a good way) and now I continue his legacy (in both ways – parking and driving Mom nuts!)

I wrote a couple of blogs ago about my having inherited from Grandpa Hollis the quirk of getting up and going to bed 15 minutes before the show is over. There are a few other things I seem to have inherited from my ancestors.

Granny Barger had a way with African Violets, or so I’ve been told. I only vaguely remember, but mom tells me that she had a window with lots of African Violets (does that need to be capitalized?) growing in her kitchen. Mom has a black thumb where indoor plants are concerned and I sort of assumed I got it from her. But several years ago, at the Secretary’s Day lunch, there were African violets on each table and after the lunch, I ended up with one. I named it Bob. Nowadays, Bob is big. He blooms about every three months (I assume that’s normal), and I have to repot him periodically. I also have Jeffrey, who was a part of one of the floral arrangements we received for Dad’s funeral. Jeffrey should be a nice big, blooming dude, but when I moved in with Mom, Jeffrey moved in with us and after about two weeks, someone (I’m assuming said someone has four legs, as Mom disavows all knowledge) ate all but one of his leaves. So I took Jeffrey to work. He is slowly recuperating, but so far, no blooms. I think poor Jeffrey is still in shock – but come on, it’s almost been a year, dude! Get over it! Then there was Ted. I rescued Ted from one of the attorneys here (Ted, as the case may be) and brought him back to health and repotted him. But he kept growing weird and I think there was something wrong with the potting soil I repotted him in last time because it started molding, so I cut off some good looking leaves and stuck them in some water to grow roots. After a couple of months now, they’ve grown roots, been potted, and so far so good. I assume they are continuing to grow good strong roots because they aren’t doing anything above ground, but they appear to still be healthy.

Finally, one of my odder quirks, I got from Great-Grandpa Hindman (Grandma Hollis’s father). According to Mom, he, like me, did not like to co-mingle his food on his plate. Which I don’t find weird at all. Who wants their baked beans oozing onto their potato salad? I would much rather have several small plates or bowls. Of course I tend to take it a step further and generally eat all of one item before moving onto another items, saving the best (the meat) for last.

New Beginnings

2010-09-03T16:26:00.001-05:00

This past summer has been grueling, and not just because of the weather, although it has seemed like a living, breathing entity bearing down on everyone for several weeks now. A couple of weeks ago, I told my mother that the only good thing about July is my birthday and that since I became an adult (about thirty minutes ago), even that pales. She pointed out that we have a family reunion and the Fourth of July in July. I repeated myself by saying that the ONLY good thing about July is my birthday.

August isn't very good either. It doesn't even have my birthday going for it. It's just hot, the grass is dead, and we're still several weeks away from cooler weather and Christmas shopping.

But then all of a sudden, it's September. September! MANY years ago, I began to look forward to September as a month of new beginnings – a new school year, new school supplies (I LOVED going shopping for school supplies – still can be found roaming those aisles at Target in August), and a new teacher. I've been out of school now for several eons, but there is still a BIG new beginning that I can look forward to each September – the new Fall TV Season!!

Now there are some, my fiend Jennifer being a major one, who rant about there now being a fall season and a spring season with several months of repeats in between. My thought is that there were always first runs from September through November (a sweeps month), then the month of December was reserved for holiday specials (i.e., the Grinch and the ubiquitous day of "Christmas Story" airings on TBS) and repeats, the first part of January usually had repeats too, but then by the time the kids were back in school until May (another sweeps month), you could plan on there being mostly first run episodes. Last year was unusual, because of the Olympics, and the "spring" season didn't start until March. But so what? During the months of December through February, I was scurrying to watch the stuff on my almost full DVR to make room for the upcoming "spring" season.

Of course, now there is a "summer" season, with all of the cable shows like Psych, The Closer, Burn Notice, Eureka, etc. So again, I don't seem to ever be without first run episodes of my TV shows. I still have half of last year's episodes of The Middle to watch before the new season starts!

Last year, I could look forward to the return of faves like 24, Heroes, and Lost. This year they are all gone. Of course, Heroes really tanked there in the end, don't even know if I'll bother to get the season DVD, and I was hit by the fifth-year curse regarding 24. See, generally, about the fifth year of a show, I just get sick and tired of it and drop it like it's hot (drop it like it's hot!). With 24, I made it to season eight, but about 4 or 5 hours into the season, I just didn't care if Jack Bauer saved the world anymore. Don't get me wrong, I still think Jack Bauer rocks!... just didn't want to watch the show anymore.

Steve had problems believing that I could just drop Jack mid-crisis. (Frankly, I think he was just miffed that we couldn't have what had become our traditional Tuesday morning discussion/dissection of the previous night's episode.) I believe it is a gift I inherited from my Grandpa Hollis. I never met the man, well, technically we met, but I was like four months old at the time, so I don't think he'd be offended that I don't remember him… although there is very adorable photographic evidence of that meeting. I digress, though… hmm…chickens.. hmm.. oh, yeah… Mom tells me that Grandpa Hollis would watch a show or movie on TV and then get up and go to bed about 10-15 minutes before it was over.

The first new thing I have to look forward to is the Fall Preview issues of the TV Guide and Entertainment Weekly. I'll probably have to call in sick just so I can devote the necessary time to researching all of my choices. There's The Event – which looks interesting, so I'll start watching it, love it, and it'll be cancelled. Then there's the new comedy Outsourced – which seems to take place in an Indian customer service phone bank type place. Of course, after I spend a couple of hours on the phone this weekend with Dish Network's customer service department trying to figure out what is wrong with my receiver (not mom's, just mine), I may not feel the same way.

Betty is Gone. Long Live Clarissa.

2010-09-03T11:26:00.001-05:00

Yup, Betty is gone. And although I had my issues with Betty, personality-wise, I feel sort of bad about her leaving. First, I gather that her boss… he needs a name… let's call him Dr. Jekyll. Anyway, I understand that Dr. Jekyll did not make her last month or so here very conducive to her feeling welcome. But she was here through a temp agency, so she was going to fulfill the three-month contract. Then her mother had a stroke and she took a couple of weeks off to go be with her… up north somewhere, not sure where. Then, just when mom got to the point where she could be moved to a rehab facility, and Betty could return to us, mom had another stroke. So at that point, Betty officially was not coming back. Frankly, I wouldn't have either. If my mom has a stroke or anything equally bad, God forbid, I'll be out of here and Steve and Carrie will just have to call me to find their filing and other stuff.

We keep talking about having a going away lunch for Betty, but between making up time for doctors appointments, condo appraisals, meetings with photographers, we haven't been able to find a time for a good portion of the group to be able to take a full lunch hour. Maybe next week.

I sincerely do hope that Betty's mother gets better and that Betty finds a new position some place that his a better fit for her.

That being said, now we get to meet "Clarissa." I was able to sit in on the get-to-know-her-personality portion of Clarissa's interview with a couple of the other assistants, and we all think we have a winner. (I was late to the meeting, though, so I'm not sure if anyone discussed her feelings regarding meat.) She has a teenage daughter and has previously worked for "difficult" attorneys, so she feels dealing with Dr. Jekyll cannot be too different. Everyone within ear-shot of Dr. Jekyll's office wishes her much success and longevity in this position.

As always, I'll keep you informed.

It's Annual Review Time (yeah!)

2010-09-02T11:42:00.001-05:00

The HR person at the Firm is gathering input on much needed changes to the form used for annual reviews of support staff. She sent around a proposed form today and my first thought was, UGH!, these questions might require thought on my behalf (as opposed to the current form which requires none.) However, after thinking about the questions (ironic, eh?), and since my annual review is underway, I went ahead and filled in my answers.

1. List the top three to five highest priorities of your job as you understand them.

1. Supporting Steve and Carrie (i.e. phone, dictation, correspondence, pleadings)

2. Supporting Collection Department

3. Entering time and then (once a quarter or so) filing the freaking time tickets

4. Filing

5. Propagating African Violets

6. Providing M&M's

2. What do you consider to be your greatest strengths or accomplishments this year? I showed up on time (relatively), performed my job (relatively) with a (relatively) positive attitude and outlook.

3. Complete the following sentence: I believe I make the greatest contribution to the firm by being the person that almost everyone (attorney and staff member alike) goes to with questions about their job (or life in general), complaints about their job (or life in general), and for M&M's.

4. What could your supervising attorney/s do to help you in your job? Go on more vacations.

5. What could your co-workers do to help you in your job?

1. Support Steve and Carrie (i.e. phone, dictation, correspondence, pleadings)

2. Support Collection Department

3. Enter time and then (once a quarter or so) file the freaking time tickets

4. File

5. Propagate African Violets

6. Provide M&M's

6. How could you perform your tasks more efficiently? From home, in my pajamas.

7. In what area would you like to gain more experience, training or education? I would like to learn a foreign language (specifically, Spanish, so I know what Ted and Angelli are saying about me when they talk to each other), how to cook like Julia Child, and small engine repair.

8. Complete the following sentence: I believe my goals and objectives for the coming year should be to show up on time (relatively), perform my job (relatively) with a (relatively) positive attitude and outlook.

9. How do you feel your performance over the past year has contributed to the department you work in and to the Firm? I provide comic relief in the face of, well, having to work for a living.

10. Do you have any suggestions or comments that you would like to share?

1. Being able to access my FarmVille farm from my computer, so I could plant quicker growing crops, like raspberries, and not have to depend on my neighbors to provide me with bushels of them, therefore allowing me to make certain products at my spa.

2. Being able to come to work in my pajamas – I think my Sylvester and Tweety robe and the bunny slippers would look very professional.

3. Having the following items provided in the kitchen at all times:

a. McDonald's sweet tea

b. Easy Cheese and canned frosting, to dip my pretzels in

c. fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies

d. fresh off the grill steak (or veggie burgers for the veggie-tarians)

e. fresh from the bar margaritas

4. Shorter work week

5. Shorter work days

6. July and December off

7. Hunky cabana boys to serve the aforementioned margaritas.

Belated Birthday Bobbles

2010-08-22T19:21:00.003-05:00

So, Haley has been boasting that her gift (and it was from Holly, too) for my birthday and Christmas would surpass all previous gifts. She's lucky the iPhone didn't actually happen because there'd have been some hard deciding re: which was better. The point is, she FINALLY got my gift to me this past weekend, and it was ok, I suppose. (tee hee!)

So I'm now preserved for posterity in bobble-dom. Bobble Rose will fit in nicely on my desk at work with Bobble Darth and Mr. Bones. Thank you Haley and Holly, this probably even beats the iphone.

Books I Have Read/Listened to – Summer 2010 Edition

2010-08-12T20:23:00.002-05:00

Children are going back to school so the summer is officially over, even if the calendar and the thermometer disagree. I’m not in school anymore and even when I was, I don’t recall having a summer reading list, like I’ve heard kids nowadays have.

Besides, odds are I wouldn’t have wanted to read much of what was on any suggested reading list. My taste in books is much like my taste in movies. I like the “popcorn” type of books. I like smutty romances, mysteries, and smutty romantic mysteries. Throw a healthy dose of humor into that mix and you have a great book, in my humble opinion. I consider these books to be “popcorn” because I used to be able to read them at the rate of 3-5 a week.

That having been said, due to a variety of changes in my life, starting about 4-5 years ago, I haven’t been able to read much. The first culprit that I noticed was the cats. If you don’t have cats, you really can’t understand, but I quickly learned that if I put anything in front of my face (book, magazine, newspaper), someone, mostly Sophie, would come and either sit on the newspaper, chew on the book, or just plum plop herself between it and my face. Another culprit is the DVR. If there is no commercials, and there isn’t because I generally skip right through them, there’s no time to read, is there? Also, due to the DVR, I have the ability to watch a lot more stuff, thereby reducing reading time. Another major factor in the dearth of reading time for Rose is Facebook. As I’ve discussed, at length, previously herein, I spend too much time farming, killing vampires, digging for treasure, etc. The final piece in the lack of reading time puzzle is that I am on some prescription meds which make me incredibly sleepy. Nowadays, if I sit down to relax, I nod off. So that equals about two pages read before I can’t keep my eyes open.

So in my old age, my steady diet of popcorn is slowing morphing into more substantial food/books. Don’t worry, it’s still mostly fast food (to continue my food analogy), but I do throw in a veggie here or there. Also, with the addition of the iPod to my toy box a couple summers ago, more often than not, I do my reading by listening to them on audio. Haley turned me onto this file-sharing website that has tons of books on audio. I do most of my reading/listening on the drive to/from work. That works out to be about 45 minutes a day, sometimes more. Or, if Steve (Boss #1) isn’t in the office, I might plug in my dictation headphones to the iPod and listen to it while I work. I know that sounds like I’m screwing around and not getting any work done, but I truly get more actual work done that way because my focus is devoted to what I’m doing and people who come by to chat or otherwise be a chicken to my easily distracted attention span see the headphones and me typing and assume I’m busy doing work (which I am, but not in the way they think) and they go away.

So all of that having been said, here is the list of books I have read/listened to this summer of 2010: (I know!! You can’t wait either, right?!)

Hamlet by William Shakespeare – this would prove that an occasional veggie gets into my reading diet along with the fries and McNuggets. I DVR’d the movie, the version with Dr. Who and Capt. Picard in it, and sat there reading the book along with the movie – shut up! It counts! BTW, did you know that if you go to the library to check out this book, it is not in the fiction section? It’s in the non-fiction, under plays. Who came up with that logic!? I bet it was that guy, Dewey Decible!

Lavendar Morning by Jude Deveraux – the author of my favorite time-travel, romance, A Knight in Shining Armor. Have it in hardback, never read, so downloaded and listened to on audio. It’s the first in a new series, and the next one is out, and I want to read it, but, you guessed it, I haven’t been able to find it on audio yet. Sigh.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman – very enjoyable. There’s just something about the dry British wit that I adore. Spent about a month trying to read the actual book and only got about 1/3 through it, so gave up and finished it on audio.

Bite Me! by Christopher Moore - #3 in his vampire love story trilogy. If you have the chance to read these (Bloodthirsty Fiends and You Suck! are the first two books), do it. But don’t worry; these are NOT your Twilight-esque vampire love stories. Book one is the story of Jody, a new vampire, and her minion, Tommy Flood. By book two, Tommy’s a vampire and we get to meet their new minion, Abby Von Normal (not her real name). In book three, Abby and her manga-haired love monkey, Foo Dog (again, not his real name) have to save the city from Chet the extremely large cat who was turned into a vampire at the end of book two. Have both read and listened to these books. If you can listen to them, do it, because the way the narrator voices Abby Von Normal is spewing-milk-out-of-your-nose funny.

Contest and Scarecrow by Matthew Reilly – this guy’s books are good, as long as you agree to suspend reality – sort of like James Bond and Indiana Jones, his heroes get into unimaginable fixes and manage to escape with little more than a hair out of place. Otherwise, each book is like stepping onto a rollercoaster of fun.

Eye of the Needle by Ken Follett - read and enjoyed this when it first came out - it's a great spy novel, World War II, Nazis, it has everything to make a great thriller!

Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King – read and enjoyed this when it first came out in the late 80’s – still had the book, but didn’t remember if it just because it had a dragon on the cover (i.e., was a part of my dragon collection) or if I really enjoyed the book. So I gave the actual book to Hollian because she’s decided to collect King’s books in hardback, and I downloaded the audiobook. Long story short, was a pretty enjoyable book.

Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens – a long time fave. Have read it several times and just decided it was time to give it another whirl. Also, I got the movie version, with Chris Sarandon, on DVD this spring, so that whetted my appetite to reread it.

There may have been one or two more audio books in there, I think I listened to a couple of Sherrilyn Kenyon’s books, but can’t remember if that was in the summer time frame or not. I finished Tale of Two Cities this morning on the way into work and started Undone by Karin Slaughter. Meanwhile, I’m slowly working my way through Sizzling Sixteen by Janet Evanovich and Cat vs. Cat by Pam Johnson-Bennett, a feline behavioralist to see if she has any suggestions for keeping the peace in our multi-cat household.

Identity Crisis

2010-07-29T10:32:00.001-05:00

To bring you up to date, Mom brought Oscar home from the vet last week with a bag of prescription meds and the information that Oscar was in fact a girl. At first, I polled my peeps and we were all in agreement that Oscar was still a fine name, even for a girl. After all, our family does have a history of (to paraphrase my sister, Haley, here…) not conforming to society's gender-based rules regarding pet names. Recently, we had George and Butch who were Merle's mother and sister, respectively. Holly's family adopted Fred and George (named after the twins in the Harry Potter books, since I'd just finished reading book seven around the time we found them) and they both turned out to be girls. Years ago, we had a black male cat named Morticia and his sister was named Gomez. And at least 75% of Larry, Daryl, Darrell, and Darryl were female. My point is, as a family, we aren't generally worried about such things.

But Mom really had issues with the whole Oscar thing. And frankly, I was having problems remembering to call her Oscar. (Remember I was instantly a whole year older during this time frame.) About that time, the Veterinary Pet Insurance Co. came out with their list of the top 10 most unusual cat names from the roster of their insurees: 1) Purr Diem; 2) Bing Clawsby; 3) Cleocatra; 4) Admiral Pancake; 5) Optimus Pants; 6) Chairman Meow; 7) Boo Manchu; 8) Watts in a Name; 9) Chenoa Azure Marshmellow-Puff; and 10) my personal favorite, Senor Nachos. I intended to mention these names to Mom, but before I could, she suggested naming her Gracie.

Gracie was fine; in fact, I got a wee bit of a thrill saying "Goodnight, Gracie" each evening! Although my fellow crazy cat lady/co-worker, Deborah pointed out that Lucy would be better because when we got home we could call out, in a sort of Spanish accent, "Lucy! I'm home!" and if there were a hairball horked up, we could look at her and say, again in the Spanish accent, "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!" And she has red hair, so Lucy would have been a purrfect fit, but Mom wanted Gracie.

The next few days, she was Gracie. Until yesterday morning when Mom says that she doesn't know… she just doesn't LOOK like a Gracie. I pointed out that most 16-week old people don't look like their names either, but most parents don't change horses not once, but twice, in the middle of that stream. I suggested that she take yesterday to think about it, and come up with a name. But that by the end of the day, she needed to have a name and we were NOT going to change it. Mom agreed.

I had lunch with Jennifer yesterday and she said she really liked Cleocatra. I said I'd suggest it to Mom. Meanwhile, Shawna (a girl at work) mentioned the name Uniqua… I don't recall in what context, but it was work-related, and we loved it. I said I'd suggest it to Mom, too. When I got home, Mom had not come up with another name. I suggested Cleocatra, and we could call her Cleo for short. Mom liked it. (I forgot about Uniqua… more than a few chickens had crossed my path since that conversation.)

So it was official (again), Oscar was now Cleocatra, Cleo for short. And we were happy. Although I found the hard "ka" sound to be disconcerting. So this morning, as we're taking our walk, Mom asked me to remind her what Cleo was short for… Cleopetra or Cleocatra. I said, well, it was Cleocatra, but now that she said it, I really like Cleopetra.

So now it is REALLY official, she is Cleopetra, Cleo for short. And we've short of waffled our way into deciding that she should be brought inside. I mean, if the Lord provided her as a companion for Merle, then we have issues because Merle hasn't been around since his hissy (literally) fit the day Cleo showed up. And I feel SO bad shutting her outside at night when we go to bed. She just sits there on the welcome mat and looks inside with such hope in her greasy little eyes (greasy from the medicine we've been putting in them twice a day).

This weekend, Cleo will be done with her meds. She will get a good bath – may have to use Dawn to tackle her greasy face! She will then be quarantined in Mom's bathroom (don't worry, it's a big bathroom, and she's a tiny cat) until we can get the current residents used to her presence in the house. Last night, I stopped and bought her a litter box and a fluffy pillow to sleep on. She is now 4 months old, and she should be 4 pounds soon, if not already, since we've gotten rid of the fleas, mites, worms, and respiratory infection. So we can get her fixed and before we know it, our little family will be back to (semi?) normal. (And once we get her greasy face washed, I'll get a better picture posted. I'd love to get a family portrait, but it's difficult to get everyone to light in one place long enough to focus a camera.)

Found a Tick!

2010-07-27T14:12:00.001-05:00

A year ago or so, I was at Holly's house, and she showed me her cats' tick cat toy. I was jealous (on behalf of my kiddlies, of course) and we looked at her Petco store, but were unable to find. So today, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I thought about said tick and decided to Google "tick cat toy" and found/ordered my kiddlies one. They probably won't be in the least bit interested in it, but…

It's too cute, so I decided to share.

http://www.amazon.com/Multipet-20070-Tick-Cat-Catnip/dp/B001SH4U9Q

Rose Knows Toes

2010-07-27T12:25:00.001-05:00

I love my toes. I think I have very cute footies. I go on vacation to the beach and I have to take the ubiquitous photo of my tootsies in the sand. Hopefully, I have a good pedicure at the time.

I have this friend, Donna, who got me hooked on getting massages. I'm poor, though, so it has to be a special occasion, like when my boss got me a gift card. And for a while there, I was getting them semi-irregularly, like once or twice a year, because he was on a gift card kick. But then he got me a gift card to Absolute Beauty and I wasted time and never got around to using it until it was almost expired. So I called to schedule the massage, which was not going to use all of the gift card, and I scheduled my first (of many) pedicure to blow out the rest of the money.

I made the mistake of getting the pedicure before the massage, because the pedicure was so good the whole massage experience was now sloppy seconds. PLUS, my footies looked faboo! Since then, I got Jennifer hooked on the massage experience and now, for our mutual birthdays, we take an afternoon off, have lunch, then go to Absolute Beauty for a massage (her) and pedicure (me).

Our birthdays were last week, and Friday was the day. The temperature outside was 150 degrees Fahrenheit (okay, that's an exaggeration, but it was hot, and humid). The temperature isn't relevant except for when I drove home, I had the air conditioning on high and aimed at my feet because my toes looked great and I didn't want the polish to melt. Seriously, I once had nail polish melt off my toes. But I get ahead of myself.

I had my fingernails already polished a lovely color - Sally Hanson Blackberry Frost... or it might've been Blackberry Forest. I can't recall . I'm sure it involved blackberries, though, and I don't have the bottle near me to double check. Anyway, I decided that this color would look great on my toesies, so I took it with me in case they didn't have anything similar. But then when I got there and looked over their colors, found that they had the exact same shade (OPI shade - I'm Not Really A Waitress - although if you look it up on the OPI website, it's much lighter than it is on my toes - I mean, if you've seen my car, you know what I mean) in their brand and why not use their product, instead of my own, eh? So my decade (look it up, "any set of 10") of digits now match my fingers AND, it turns out, my car! AND, it would appear, per the OPI website, I could even get a DELL laptop with the case the same color. Super cool, eh? Hmm...I do like this color. I may have to think about this.

Ok, so that chicken just got me totally lost,.... and now the thought of chicken is making me think of lunch. Dang! I guess I'll just take my gorgeous toes out and go see what we can find. But long story short, if you want a good pedicure... OH, the chair!! I almost forgot! I don't know how other pedicure places are, but at Absolute Beauty, you get to sit in this chair that all but gives you a massage while your piggies are being beautified, so for the price, it's like you get a two-fer! Anyway, if you want a lovely pedicure, go to Absolute Beauty - tell them I sent you (I'll get points for referring you). Now, I'm off for nuggets!

Thanks for All The (Birthday) Fishes!

2010-07-23T08:14:00.001-05:00

Today is my 42^nd birthday. I decided years ago that 42 was my favorite number. Mostly because I like to be unique and who chooses a number in the 40's to be their favorite?? Most people choose 7 – but how dull is that?!

42 is all around, if you keep an eye open for it. I think there are a lot of geeks who participate in the production of today's pop culture that have read and absorbed Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy.

For those of you who have not read those books and are thinking, "huh?": In the first book, near the middle to end of it, the number 42 is revealed to be the answer to the ultimate question of "Life, The Universe, and Everything" by a supercomputer named Deep Thought, specially built to come up with the answer to the ultimate question by highly intelligent beings. It takes Deep Thought 7½ million years to compute and double check the answer, which, as I've already let out of the bag, is 42. Unfortunately, no one thought to ask Deep Thought what the "ultimate" question was, so they aren't happy to hear that the answer is 42. They ask Deep Thought was the question was and he says that he can't come up with it, but he can help build another computer that can. They build this computer (the planet Earth) and it takes 10 million years for it to compute the question, but seconds before it finishes its computations, it gets destroyed to make way for the construction of a planetary superhighway.

The above snippet is, of course, only a small part of the story, and is also only what my increasingly aged mind can recall of the story, as it's been a while since I read the book.

My regular readers know that I've always seemed to be easily distracted (those darned chickens, you know) so the lights were on, but you couldn't be guaranteed that anyone was home, you know? But since the day I turned 40, I mean down to the minute, those lights started flickering a lot – in fact I think one of the bulbs went out completely.

However, my main point is that today is my birthday and as of this moment, I've had a very nice day. I slept in, mostly due to the fact that I'm fighting a sinus infection and mom hasn't been waking me up to walk since I've been sick. We dosed Oscar up with her meds and she was a sweety to deal with and I went to work. I made my usual stop by McD's for some iced tea, but since it is my b-day, I allowed myself to get sweet tea. uhh…, sweet tea...mmmm....

I got to work, and there was a spread set out on my desk of cookies, donuts, a fruit tray with some yummy dip, and cheese and crackers. And for dinner, Mom, BK (regular reader Becky), and I went out to Western Ribeye. I am nothing if not a carnivore, but the incredibly good steak at WR is almost secondary to the salad bar. See it's just your usual salad bar, but at the end of it, there are two things that I could fill myself up on... 1) a mondo wheel of cheese - although looking at the mondo wheel of cheese, it seems smaller in real life than it is in my memories. Sort of depressing. But I carved off quite a hunk and chowed it all down. ummm.... cheese! oh, and 2) the tub-o-apple butter along with the butter and bread. In retrospect, I could (and should) have did like Mom and BK and just had the salad bar, but the prospect of a good hunk of beef had been what got me through the week, so I couldn't resist. I suppose I could have taken the steak to go. I'll have to consider that next time.

So now here I am, home, stuffed with beef and cheese, and happy. I'm trying to post this, but my computer isn't cooperating, so I'm going to have to go to bed and post in the morning. Don't let the posting date fool you, though, this is my O-fficial birthday posting and we're off to a good year, I can tell. By this time next year, I will hopefully have my new iPhone, a new vehicle of some sort, and will have just got back from a trip with Mom and the Sibs to England. Good things all.

Meet Oscar

2010-07-21T09:24:00.001-05:00

Ok, so I get home last night, not feeling well, and mom asks me if I saw a little orange kitten outside. I said no, but then I barely made it up the sidewalk with my eyes open (I'd promised myself that I could immediately climb into bed if I stayed awake long enough to get home without killing either myself or someone else.) Anywho, we trotted outside and there, ambling up the sidewalk is this adorable little orange fluff ball… sneezing and snorting, and its eyes looked sort of mucky, but ADORABLE.

Mom had been concerned that Merle was lonely now that Blackie was gone. I told her I didn't think Merle missed him all that much, but… we left it up to God – told Him that if He felt Merle needed a companion, then He needed to provide one for him. Lo and behold, here comes Aunt Marilee, yesterday afternoon, with this kitten. It had been hanging out and driving Buddy up a wall – I gather it was hanging just outside of Buddy's invisible fence… sort of like the way Boots (our cat from the 80's) would lie just outside the perimeter of Brandy's (our dog from the 80's) chain.

This thing is so small, he sits in Merle's food bowl and eats. Too cute – not sure Merle is overly excited about him.

I say "him", but he could easily be a SHE – we'll find out this morning, since mom took him/her to the vet to be checked out for THE TEST that Blackie failed, and fleas, and worms, and ear mites, and for whatever is making him sneeze and snort, and his rheumy eyes. Either way, his name is Oscar. Mom asked what if she's a girl and I looked at her and said, "asks the woman who named a girl cat Butch!" She said she saw my point.

I think he'll grow into a good sized cat, too. His legs are incredibly long and his paws are huge! And I'm happy to say that his head looks normal sized too. This is reassuring, since Merle has an unusually small sized head and gets ridiculed frequently (usually by me) for it.

Merle

2010-07-13T19:22:00.004-05:00

Ok, Merle's fans want to see him and his beautiful eyes. So I took my camera and some Meow Mix outside when I got home from work tonight and took the following pics:

With this picture, you get to see his handsome physique, but not so much the eyes. So I tried again.

And while this doesn't show the eyes that well, you can see how deep and thoughful this handsome dude is. So since this picture is downright artistic, I decided to stop trying for a better pic. Enjoy!

On the Road Again...

2010-07-12T10:54:00.001-05:00

For the latter part of last week, we realized that Merle (the outside cat) hadn't been around much, if at all. We set his food out in the mornings, as we left for our daily walks, and then in the evening, we brought the food dish, with pretty much no food eaten, back in so as not to feed Rocky the raccoon.

Merle was one of three surviving boys in his litter. When Mom and Dad were getting ready to drive them to the vet to be fixed, I said that they needed names because the vet was going to ask. So Dad popped out with "Willie, Waylon, and Merle." So it became official, we had Willie Nelson, Waylon, and Merle. I never really called Waylon and Merle by their full names, but I got a kick out of yelling for Willie Nelson to stop playing on the road again! Hahahah!

One by one, the boys did what happens to outdoor boy cats and either got hit by a car (Waylon) or disappeared, presumably to cat around (Willie – although again, it would have been funnier if he'd been hit by the car, playing on the road again.) So that left us with Merle. By our calculations, and relatively foggy memories, we think Merle is about 5-6 years old. I'm pretty sure we had Merle before I got Sophie and Gizmo, and they had their 5^th birthdays this past April.

For an outdoor cat, especially in the country what with raccoons and coyotes out looking for a snack, 5-6 years makes Merle an old man. The only other cat I recall hanging around for more years was Boots, and he survived a myriad of things, including being kicked in the hip by a cow and he had to wear a satellite dish on his neck and he'd get his head/neck caught in the fence and I would laugh hysterically as I helped him get loose. Boots would wander off, sometimes for weeks at a time, but then he'd roam back home.

So the ostrich in me just assumed that either Merle had found himself better digs or that he was out roaming and would be back. The realist in me was thinking that we had a lot of Meow Mix and no one to eat it. So yesterday on our way to church, mom and I were discussing what we should do with all the food – either donate it to a shelter, or to Haley, as she has recently adopted a family of kittens in her garage. We'd pretty much voted on Haley.

When we got home from church, though, who is sitting on the front porch looking for us (or more likely, his food dish), but Merle! Merle has the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen in a cat, and he loves to have his belly scratched. So we get out of the car and tell him how happy we are to see him, and quick like lightning, he runs to us and starts lolling on the sidewalk looking for scritches, like we haven't been worried about him for 4 days! Men!

Since We’ve No Place to Go, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!

2010-07-09T15:10:00.001-05:00

It is July, and we've been having a heat wave. It is hot and incredibly humid outside, but inside our office, it is a winter wonderland. Sometimes our AC isn't working all that great, but today, it's pumping out the cold air by the butt-load. You can look down the row, as we sit at our desks, and see that we all have sweaters or jackets on. And I'm listening to Christmas music. I can't explain that one, really, other than when I opened iTunes this morning, I accidentally clicked on my Christmas playlist and decided to stay with it.

This has been a very rough week at work. One of the partners at the firm up and resigned over the holiday weekend, and the remaining partners have been scurrying around dealing with the fallout. Meanwhile, the support staff sits quietly at their desks and watches one closed door meeting after another going on and wonders how, if at all, it's going to affect ME… because that's truly what we're concerned about – is this going to affect me? Plus, it would appear that we are, very hush-hush, secretly hiring some attorney away from another firm in town, and that has been adding to the secret meetings and therefore adding to the tension around the place.

I've been battling a cold, and am only barely alive at the moment due to CVS's version of Day-Quil. I think I'm getting addicted to the drug merry-go-round – Day-Quil in the day to be"high" and Night-Quil (?) at night to stay "down." Someone tell me, is that one of the warning signs??

Jennifer has been on vacation all week, so I've been dining off the mystery drawer in my desk and after eating the final can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup yesterday, I'm down to that one weird Healthy Choice meal that I've tried my best not to eat since the last time I filled the mystery drawer up, and today, the final day of the week from hell, I just couldn't face it. So I decided to wonder across the street for some pizza.

Unfortunately, I've sat here so cool and cozy in my warm and comfy sweater, that I've forgotten that it is July out there. As I opened the door to the outside, wearing my sweater, I'm immediately reminded and take off the sweater before it becomes a SWEATer. I scurry across the street lest the blinding sun burn my unshaded retinas and enter the shady, cool, garlic fest that is Milano's. My original aim was pizza, but as the aroma hits me, I head for the Carbonara Rigatoni. Since moving in with Mom, I have discovered that she doesn't believe that pasta is one of the four major food groups. I don't think we've had macaroni in over a week, and the semolina levels in my blood are plummeting. I weakly wobble over to the counter and ordere some to go.

I nabbed my ill-gotten booty (or ill-booten gotty) and blindly ran back across the street to the coolness of our office. I sighed with comfort upon reentering the lobby downstairs. I say a quick prayer of thanks and strongly suggest to the Good Lord, that Willis Haviland Carrier, the inventor of modern day air conditioning (yes, I Googled it), deserves an especially comfy cloud in heaven.

Now, lunchtime is about over, and I have eaten my cholesterol-filled take out order of carbs. My sweater is back on and my core temperature is back to a "cool" level. I think I'll go back to my desk and listen to some more Christmas carols. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…