Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Seasons Change
I had woken up hot at 3:30 Wednesday morning when The Kitty wanted to be fed and I was still hot hours later when my alarm went off. I was hot when I brushed teeth and I did not get less hot as I got dressed. It was not cooler when I got downstairs. It was hot.
The dog was panting. The Kitty did a face plant into his water bowl. By the time everyone had been out to pee, fed, pilled, taken out again and tucked into bed - I was panting. I was going to have to think about maybe turning the A/C on . I decided to think about it and maybe do it after work, but before I could leave for work I needed to find The Kitty, I like to do a head count before I leave for the day and I couldn’t find him. I knew he was there, I had just seen him - but that didn’t count. We had reached the portion of the morning when I tell the little animals, individually and in general. That I am leaving for work and I want him or her to watch the house - but I can’t do that until I see them.
Dogger is easy. It’s not easy for her to hide, she can and has, but you lose your dog once under the dining room table, you don’t get fooled again. But I couldn’t find The Kitty. I looked and I looked and to illustrate how frantic I was getting, I called for him, cats don’t come when they’re called! They especially don’t come when they’re called when they have established that you are looking for them. I looked under beds, swatted at curtains, checked all the chairs, checked the bathroom twice to make sure he hadn’t gotten trapped in there the last time I had checked in there. Oh, and it wasn’t getting cooler in the house. I used my time frantically searching for The Kitty by opening all the available windows I cam across. I didn’t want my iddle babies to spend the day in sauna.
I finally found him hiding under the head of the upstairs bed, behind a rolled up carpet remnant. I said my goodbyes and finally, left for work. By the time lunch rolled around a front had come through the temperature had dropped and the heat of the morning had been replaced with cold, gusty winds and rain. I rushed home to close all the windows and make sure my iddle babies didn’t spend the day in a freezer.
By the time I came home for the day it had settled into being rainy and cold for the end of May. A perfect day for the dog park. It really was. It was perfect for Dogger. The park was completely empty! Dogger got the rare treat of being off leash at the off leash dog park. We wandered around and Dogger ran full tilt across the park and sniffed every tree and got a chance to stalk a squirrel and generally got to be an unleashed dog. It was great fun. It was rainy, cold and nasty, but it was the best time we’re had at the park in a long time. We haven’t been to the park in weeks. A year and half ago this would have been unthinkable. Raining? there, Cold? there Too hot? there. We were there every day rain or shine even when it was so hot Dogger and the rest of the dogs just lay there like lumps . A rainy day like Wednesday wouldn’t have bothered anyone. But on Wednesday we were alone and grateful for it.
I had woken up hot at 3:30 Wednesday morning when The Kitty wanted to be fed and I was still hot hours later when my alarm went off. I was hot when I brushed teeth and I did not get less hot as I got dressed. It was not cooler when I got downstairs. It was hot.
The dog was panting. The Kitty did a face plant into his water bowl. By the time everyone had been out to pee, fed, pilled, taken out again and tucked into bed - I was panting. I was going to have to think about maybe turning the A/C on . I decided to think about it and maybe do it after work, but before I could leave for work I needed to find The Kitty, I like to do a head count before I leave for the day and I couldn’t find him. I knew he was there, I had just seen him - but that didn’t count. We had reached the portion of the morning when I tell the little animals, individually and in general. That I am leaving for work and I want him or her to watch the house - but I can’t do that until I see them.
Dogger is easy. It’s not easy for her to hide, she can and has, but you lose your dog once under the dining room table, you don’t get fooled again. But I couldn’t find The Kitty. I looked and I looked and to illustrate how frantic I was getting, I called for him, cats don’t come when they’re called! They especially don’t come when they’re called when they have established that you are looking for them. I looked under beds, swatted at curtains, checked all the chairs, checked the bathroom twice to make sure he hadn’t gotten trapped in there the last time I had checked in there. Oh, and it wasn’t getting cooler in the house. I used my time frantically searching for The Kitty by opening all the available windows I cam across. I didn’t want my iddle babies to spend the day in sauna.
I finally found him hiding under the head of the upstairs bed, behind a rolled up carpet remnant. I said my goodbyes and finally, left for work. By the time lunch rolled around a front had come through the temperature had dropped and the heat of the morning had been replaced with cold, gusty winds and rain. I rushed home to close all the windows and make sure my iddle babies didn’t spend the day in a freezer.
By the time I came home for the day it had settled into being rainy and cold for the end of May. A perfect day for the dog park. It really was. It was perfect for Dogger. The park was completely empty! Dogger got the rare treat of being off leash at the off leash dog park. We wandered around and Dogger ran full tilt across the park and sniffed every tree and got a chance to stalk a squirrel and generally got to be an unleashed dog. It was great fun. It was rainy, cold and nasty, but it was the best time we’re had at the park in a long time. We haven’t been to the park in weeks. A year and half ago this would have been unthinkable. Raining? there, Cold? there Too hot? there. We were there every day rain or shine even when it was so hot Dogger and the rest of the dogs just lay there like lumps . A rainy day like Wednesday wouldn’t have bothered anyone. But on Wednesday we were alone and grateful for it.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Dr. Diana Venkman
On Montuesday while I was taking twenty-three thousand messages off the answering machine, I was so bored - Abuse, neglect ,malpractice, short staffing, bad food, no hot water - yada, yada, yada, They killed Mama!, They Have No Food In The Building!, Rats In The Halls!. Whatever, you know? I’ve heard it all before.
And then, towards the end of this litany of misery ...My house is haunted and I need your help
Say what?
My House Is Haunted And I Need Your Help Oh. That's different
The other complaints, I can’t deal with, but a haunting? Hauntings I can deal with. So I went online and looked up Para-Normal research in North Carolina and got hits. I did a little leg work and found one that included a phone number. I like phone numbers, they give the allusion of somewhere to call and that there will be someone there to answer. It lends gravitas to a group that claims to be real life ghost busters, I mean if they can afford a phone number and web hosting, they must be legit. Right?
Phone number in hand I called back Mr. Haunted. He had a crazy message on his machine, but he wasn’t calling from a mental hospital. I left a message and hours later, he called back. We had a routine conversation, as routine a conversation as you can when you are talking about ghosts with someone who claims to be being harassed by them. He mentioned that all of this was giving him a “nervous breakdown”, I took this opportunity to tell him if he needed mental health care that he should call his local Department of Social Services and they could help him with that, he said he was all ready seeing a “Lady doctor” and he had seen her three times and she was a good doctor. Confident his fragile mental health was in good hands, I gave him the number and felt good about helping this poor guy. Problem solved, I told the Social Worker about it and we laughed.
Well. He called me back. He said he had been calling the number all morning and they hadn’t answered. I asked how many times he called, he said “about 30", I told him to stop calling them and give it a rest. Perhaps they weren’t set up for that kind of call volume, maybe the machine was full, maybe they just weren’t home. I told him to call them later.
Wednesday afternoon he called me again. The people were simply not there, he said. He needed a new number, he really, really needed help he said, the ghosts were there all the time. He would go to bed by himself and when he woke up there were all over the bed, walking around his house. I asked him when this started and he said “about a year ago, after my wife died”.
I asked him if he was sure these were ghosts, that somehow these weren’t real people in his house. He said they were most certainly ghosts. His hand went right though them when he tried to touch them and the disappeared when he spoke with them. I asked if he had told them forcefully to go away. He said he had.
I was running out of ghost talk. I led with questions about cold spots and unexplained noises or missing articles. No, not really he said, but his phones had stopped working last week. I asked if he blamed the ghosts for this, he said yes. He told me about the big groups of people, I asked what they were wearing, he said “old looking clothes”. I said I would find him a different set of ghost hunters.
I found another one, but without a phone number, they were all email. I still had Mr. Haunted on the phone and he said he doesn’t have email. I told him that I would fill out the questionnaire for him and send it in. This also gave me the opportunity to get his name and address and phone number. Important information to have. I was worried about this person.
I suspect that after the death of his wife he became very lonely and depressed I think he created these images to make him feel less alone. I think they are people from his past and they comforted him and made him feel less alone, they are dressed in “old clothes” because that is what they were wearing in the photographs he is remembering them from. That “lady doctor” he spoke of possibly gave him some meds for depression and they are now causing him to hallucinate .
I emailed the ghost busters and told Mr. Haunted to wait to hear from them. We hung up. Then I went back to the Social Worker.
She asked if I had called APS (Adult Protective Services), I said I hadn’t thought of that. She said call them and tell them about Mr. Haunted, he may need more help then ghost busting. I called the county and spoke with someone and I told them all I knew about Mr. Haunted and his dead wife and the ghosts and filed a report. Mr. Haunted is going to be getting visitors less spectral, but maybe more frightening.
On Montuesday while I was taking twenty-three thousand messages off the answering machine, I was so bored - Abuse, neglect ,malpractice, short staffing, bad food, no hot water - yada, yada, yada, They killed Mama!, They Have No Food In The Building!, Rats In The Halls!. Whatever, you know? I’ve heard it all before.
And then, towards the end of this litany of misery ...My house is haunted and I need your help
Say what?
My House Is Haunted And I Need Your Help Oh. That's different
The other complaints, I can’t deal with, but a haunting? Hauntings I can deal with. So I went online and looked up Para-Normal research in North Carolina and got hits. I did a little leg work and found one that included a phone number. I like phone numbers, they give the allusion of somewhere to call and that there will be someone there to answer. It lends gravitas to a group that claims to be real life ghost busters, I mean if they can afford a phone number and web hosting, they must be legit. Right?
Phone number in hand I called back Mr. Haunted. He had a crazy message on his machine, but he wasn’t calling from a mental hospital. I left a message and hours later, he called back. We had a routine conversation, as routine a conversation as you can when you are talking about ghosts with someone who claims to be being harassed by them. He mentioned that all of this was giving him a “nervous breakdown”, I took this opportunity to tell him if he needed mental health care that he should call his local Department of Social Services and they could help him with that, he said he was all ready seeing a “Lady doctor” and he had seen her three times and she was a good doctor. Confident his fragile mental health was in good hands, I gave him the number and felt good about helping this poor guy. Problem solved, I told the Social Worker about it and we laughed.
Well. He called me back. He said he had been calling the number all morning and they hadn’t answered. I asked how many times he called, he said “about 30", I told him to stop calling them and give it a rest. Perhaps they weren’t set up for that kind of call volume, maybe the machine was full, maybe they just weren’t home. I told him to call them later.
Wednesday afternoon he called me again. The people were simply not there, he said. He needed a new number, he really, really needed help he said, the ghosts were there all the time. He would go to bed by himself and when he woke up there were all over the bed, walking around his house. I asked him when this started and he said “about a year ago, after my wife died”.
I asked him if he was sure these were ghosts, that somehow these weren’t real people in his house. He said they were most certainly ghosts. His hand went right though them when he tried to touch them and the disappeared when he spoke with them. I asked if he had told them forcefully to go away. He said he had.
I was running out of ghost talk. I led with questions about cold spots and unexplained noises or missing articles. No, not really he said, but his phones had stopped working last week. I asked if he blamed the ghosts for this, he said yes. He told me about the big groups of people, I asked what they were wearing, he said “old looking clothes”. I said I would find him a different set of ghost hunters.
I found another one, but without a phone number, they were all email. I still had Mr. Haunted on the phone and he said he doesn’t have email. I told him that I would fill out the questionnaire for him and send it in. This also gave me the opportunity to get his name and address and phone number. Important information to have. I was worried about this person.
I suspect that after the death of his wife he became very lonely and depressed I think he created these images to make him feel less alone. I think they are people from his past and they comforted him and made him feel less alone, they are dressed in “old clothes” because that is what they were wearing in the photographs he is remembering them from. That “lady doctor” he spoke of possibly gave him some meds for depression and they are now causing him to hallucinate .
I emailed the ghost busters and told Mr. Haunted to wait to hear from them. We hung up. Then I went back to the Social Worker.
She asked if I had called APS (Adult Protective Services), I said I hadn’t thought of that. She said call them and tell them about Mr. Haunted, he may need more help then ghost busting. I called the county and spoke with someone and I told them all I knew about Mr. Haunted and his dead wife and the ghosts and filed a report. Mr. Haunted is going to be getting visitors less spectral, but maybe more frightening.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Slow and steady wins the race
Now I feel better, my suit case is still full but my bike is out of the kitchen. It doesn’t matter good the food is, or how good a year it was for chateau Good Year, it is going to taste like a bike tire. There is a reason that your better restaurants have a No Bikes In The Kitchen rule.
I’m pretty sure that the bag is going to remain packed as my plans for the evening are solely to watch a DVD that has been sitting around for over a week. I took it with me for the long weekend thinking that maybe there would be time to watch it or perhaps my hotel room would come equipped with a DVD player. My guess would be that if you are spending your vacation in your hotel room watching a DVD the accepted wisdom would be that you are doing it wrong. But of they weren’t going to include a DVD player they could have at least offered better TV than they did. If you spend any time in your hotel room watching the NASCAR network? You are doing everything wrong. Being held captive by personal electronics is one thing, spending the money for a “Junior Nation” passport is another. Knowing what the “Junior Nation” is, is just sad.
I blame NPR. I was driving along, minding my own business listening to one or another of their correspondents reporting from China about how sad and destructive the earthquake was to the Chinese people the quake zone. I get it! It was massive, it was horrible, tens of thousands were killed, there are countless thousands homeless, the hospitals are over matched... Do we need to speak with every one of the survivors? Is it necessary to mine these peoples trauma further? Hi! Your life is ruined! Can you tell us what that feels like?
So I turned the station and stumbled upon some sort of Dale Earnhardt, Junior worship hour - But it took a while to figure out who “Junior” was. They wouldn’t say, I guess they assumed that if you had tuned in, you were all ready turned on. I knew it had something to do with car racing but I would assume that most of the racers are called some variation of Junior.
There can only be one Junior and He is the one true Junior and there are no other Juniors before him. I think if Obama wants to win over Hillery's hard working white people he needs to appear on the Junior Power Hour and then show up at Darlington with a giant number 3 in the back window of his car, the flacks and secret service guys outfitted in flame retardant red white and blue jump suits. Those hard working white people will still vote overwhelmly for McCain but at least Obama will be on record as trying. It’s hard to look over smart or over paid in a jump suit.
After feeling my IQ free falling, I returned to the welcoming embrace of the tragic Chinese and the professional mourners of NPR.
I thought that if I took Dogger out of her environment for a few days that it might be like hitting some sort of canine restart button. Before we left she had learned how to get to The Kitty’s food dish. At first I thought Oh, how cute! and then I remembered $19 a bag and decided that I needed to snuff this new trick out. I needed to either convince Dogger that the expensive cat food was not a hot new taste for spring or if failing at that, try to convince The Kitty that the place where he happily eats his food at night can also be a good place to eat his food during the day.
He does not agree. He can not eat out of his upstairs bowl during the day. It is simply not done. He has a night time dish that lives upstairs and a daytime bowl and it is in the kitchen. Lately, it is under constant bombardment from Dogger but it is the only suitable food dish for daytime meals. In the past when I have tried to move this bowl, it has led to The Kitty simply not eating during the day, and in the past this was not a bad thing. Today however, The Kitty does not need to fast during the day.
I have tried stacking things on front as well as on top of the banquet that hosts The Kitty's bowl but I think it just made it that much more of a challenge for Dogger and an obstacle course for The Kitty and myself. While dogs may get all excited by such obstacles and see them as exciting, cats find them insulting and demeaning. Cats are not turned on by agility or athleticism. They are naturally agile and athletic and they see no need for them to compete with each other to see who is the most or the best. They just want to get to their kibble.
My next plot is to block the door of the kitchen high enough to thwart the dog but not so high as to place a barricade between the cat and his dish. Poor Kitty.
Now I feel better, my suit case is still full but my bike is out of the kitchen. It doesn’t matter good the food is, or how good a year it was for chateau Good Year, it is going to taste like a bike tire. There is a reason that your better restaurants have a No Bikes In The Kitchen rule.
I’m pretty sure that the bag is going to remain packed as my plans for the evening are solely to watch a DVD that has been sitting around for over a week. I took it with me for the long weekend thinking that maybe there would be time to watch it or perhaps my hotel room would come equipped with a DVD player. My guess would be that if you are spending your vacation in your hotel room watching a DVD the accepted wisdom would be that you are doing it wrong. But of they weren’t going to include a DVD player they could have at least offered better TV than they did. If you spend any time in your hotel room watching the NASCAR network? You are doing everything wrong. Being held captive by personal electronics is one thing, spending the money for a “Junior Nation” passport is another. Knowing what the “Junior Nation” is, is just sad.
I blame NPR. I was driving along, minding my own business listening to one or another of their correspondents reporting from China about how sad and destructive the earthquake was to the Chinese people the quake zone. I get it! It was massive, it was horrible, tens of thousands were killed, there are countless thousands homeless, the hospitals are over matched... Do we need to speak with every one of the survivors? Is it necessary to mine these peoples trauma further? Hi! Your life is ruined! Can you tell us what that feels like?
So I turned the station and stumbled upon some sort of Dale Earnhardt, Junior worship hour - But it took a while to figure out who “Junior” was. They wouldn’t say, I guess they assumed that if you had tuned in, you were all ready turned on. I knew it had something to do with car racing but I would assume that most of the racers are called some variation of Junior.
There can only be one Junior and He is the one true Junior and there are no other Juniors before him. I think if Obama wants to win over Hillery's hard working white people he needs to appear on the Junior Power Hour and then show up at Darlington with a giant number 3 in the back window of his car, the flacks and secret service guys outfitted in flame retardant red white and blue jump suits. Those hard working white people will still vote overwhelmly for McCain but at least Obama will be on record as trying. It’s hard to look over smart or over paid in a jump suit.
After feeling my IQ free falling, I returned to the welcoming embrace of the tragic Chinese and the professional mourners of NPR.
I thought that if I took Dogger out of her environment for a few days that it might be like hitting some sort of canine restart button. Before we left she had learned how to get to The Kitty’s food dish. At first I thought Oh, how cute! and then I remembered $19 a bag and decided that I needed to snuff this new trick out. I needed to either convince Dogger that the expensive cat food was not a hot new taste for spring or if failing at that, try to convince The Kitty that the place where he happily eats his food at night can also be a good place to eat his food during the day.
He does not agree. He can not eat out of his upstairs bowl during the day. It is simply not done. He has a night time dish that lives upstairs and a daytime bowl and it is in the kitchen. Lately, it is under constant bombardment from Dogger but it is the only suitable food dish for daytime meals. In the past when I have tried to move this bowl, it has led to The Kitty simply not eating during the day, and in the past this was not a bad thing. Today however, The Kitty does not need to fast during the day.
I have tried stacking things on front as well as on top of the banquet that hosts The Kitty's bowl but I think it just made it that much more of a challenge for Dogger and an obstacle course for The Kitty and myself. While dogs may get all excited by such obstacles and see them as exciting, cats find them insulting and demeaning. Cats are not turned on by agility or athleticism. They are naturally agile and athletic and they see no need for them to compete with each other to see who is the most or the best. They just want to get to their kibble.
My next plot is to block the door of the kitchen high enough to thwart the dog but not so high as to place a barricade between the cat and his dish. Poor Kitty.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Long Weekend is over...
But what a weekend!
First, as promised, I went to the circus, truly the 483rd Greatest Show on Earth and what it was missing in Gee Whiz! Circus Magic! it more than made up for in sheer earnestness and desire to entertain.
And after that, I found this really kewl falling down building and took pictures of it!
And after that,Gawd, I was busy! I went to see Indy 4! If the first three were peons to the serials of the forties, admittedly, indoor bull stuff, the latest instalment is a homage to the drive-in movies of the fifties with their Cold War inspired red-baiting and attendent post-atomic panic. Adjust your expectations accordingly. Joe Bob says check it out.
But what a weekend!
First, as promised, I went to the circus, truly the 483rd Greatest Show on Earth and what it was missing in Gee Whiz! Circus Magic! it more than made up for in sheer earnestness and desire to entertain.
And after that, I found this really kewl falling down building and took pictures of it!
And after that,Gawd, I was busy! I went to see Indy 4! If the first three were peons to the serials of the forties, admittedly, indoor bull stuff, the latest instalment is a homage to the drive-in movies of the fifties with their Cold War inspired red-baiting and attendent post-atomic panic. Adjust your expectations accordingly. Joe Bob says check it out.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
TGIF
I'm so glad it's Friday! It's been a long week. The phones at work have been going crazy all week and while I don't actually take those calls the people who do have been making me anxious. Not real surprising, the crazy volume of calls seems to be generated by crazy people. There are "behavioral health units" all over the state that are giving their patients way too much access to the unit pay phone. There is entirely too much time alloted to making phone calls and not enough time dedicated to therapeutic basket weaving. All of these callers are actually completely sane and really confused why those mean deputies hauled them in front a judge and why that mean old judge sent them here or they voluntarily committed themselves, but they are feeling much better now and are annoyed that they can't just voluntarily un-comit themselves, and every one of them are under the impression that we can do something for them. We can't.
We have a new hire who just started taking calls and while she's been training for three weeks, it's one thing to talk about the callers it's quite another to actually talk to them.
Even with the new hire we are still short staffed, our even more recent new hire won't be able to take calls for at least another week and the hiring process for new person #3 hasn't even started yet plus we have one intake person on vacation this week and when she gets back another is starting hers. Crazy Asshole was a worthless employee and the intake person who was on vacation this week is a gigantic whiner, but at least they were at work they were able to take calls and share the workload. I like the new people but they are far from carrying their own weight yet.
But its Friday. The Friday before a three day weekend! Thank You God! I'm excited about the circus too, I'm haven't been to one in years and I've never been to one as an adult and I don't think I've ever been to one that was not Ringling Brothers. The circus that I'm going to is out of Mexico, are Mexican circusi different from American circusi? Or are they just kind of like Kabuki, always the same no matter where they are performed? Do circusi have language independent of a spoken one? Are they reflective of the society that created them or do they reflect only what is before them? Is a clown car really just a clown car? Or do they symbolize something else entirely? do they really illustrate a society's lack of access to or acceptance of birth control?
Why yes, I do think too much. I blame it on the lame undergrad Psych of Women course I took one semester from a woman who was clinically humorless. There were two men, one hot, in that class and she called on the hot guy first evertime to get his thoughts as a man on whatever it was she was talking about and she was almost always talking about sex, not gender, sex. The woman couldn't recognize a cigar if she tripped over a humidor, but she could play spot the penis like a champ. She saw penis' everywhere and in everything. To this day I can't look at a pack of Camels without seeing the little man and his erect penis in the camel's leg.
I'm so glad it's Friday! It's been a long week. The phones at work have been going crazy all week and while I don't actually take those calls the people who do have been making me anxious. Not real surprising, the crazy volume of calls seems to be generated by crazy people. There are "behavioral health units" all over the state that are giving their patients way too much access to the unit pay phone. There is entirely too much time alloted to making phone calls and not enough time dedicated to therapeutic basket weaving. All of these callers are actually completely sane and really confused why those mean deputies hauled them in front a judge and why that mean old judge sent them here or they voluntarily committed themselves, but they are feeling much better now and are annoyed that they can't just voluntarily un-comit themselves, and every one of them are under the impression that we can do something for them. We can't.
We have a new hire who just started taking calls and while she's been training for three weeks, it's one thing to talk about the callers it's quite another to actually talk to them.
Even with the new hire we are still short staffed, our even more recent new hire won't be able to take calls for at least another week and the hiring process for new person #3 hasn't even started yet plus we have one intake person on vacation this week and when she gets back another is starting hers. Crazy Asshole was a worthless employee and the intake person who was on vacation this week is a gigantic whiner, but at least they were at work they were able to take calls and share the workload. I like the new people but they are far from carrying their own weight yet.
But its Friday. The Friday before a three day weekend! Thank You God! I'm excited about the circus too, I'm haven't been to one in years and I've never been to one as an adult and I don't think I've ever been to one that was not Ringling Brothers. The circus that I'm going to is out of Mexico, are Mexican circusi different from American circusi? Or are they just kind of like Kabuki, always the same no matter where they are performed? Do circusi have language independent of a spoken one? Are they reflective of the society that created them or do they reflect only what is before them? Is a clown car really just a clown car? Or do they symbolize something else entirely? do they really illustrate a society's lack of access to or acceptance of birth control?
Why yes, I do think too much. I blame it on the lame undergrad Psych of Women course I took one semester from a woman who was clinically humorless. There were two men, one hot, in that class and she called on the hot guy first evertime to get his thoughts as a man on whatever it was she was talking about and she was almost always talking about sex, not gender, sex. The woman couldn't recognize a cigar if she tripped over a humidor, but she could play spot the penis like a champ. She saw penis' everywhere and in everything. To this day I can't look at a pack of Camels without seeing the little man and his erect penis in the camel's leg.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Could be interesting.
"It is unfortunate that Mr. Rove has failed to cooperate with our requests,"
House panel subpoenas Rove
"It is unfortunate that Mr. Rove has failed to cooperate with our requests,"
House panel subpoenas Rove
Pain is our friend.
Truly, it is. Think of it as an early warning system. If something hurts we take care of it, if it hurts a lot, we take care of it now. The faster we take care of it, the less there is to take care of. Things that don't hurt don't get taken care of and as a result, a whole lot needs to be taken care of. Trust me, I know of whence I speak.
Yesterday was Dentist Appointment Day. When I called a week ago and explained to receptionist that I feared that I had a broken tooth and at the very least I had a cracked tooth and that my primary symptom was a quarter of the molar in question was loose and I needed an appointment now, the receptionist translated this as I was calling in to complain about a "chipped tooth" and left me to cool my heals for a week. Another significant road block to more timely access to care was my lack of pain. If you want to see your dentist now, tell the receptionist you are in pain, a lot of pain. The receptionist might get you in on Thursday.
My tooth and I were early, the receptionist asked if I was aware my appointment wasn't until 2pm. I said I knew this, I also now knew that I wasn't going to get in early. Your dentist office isn't the same as the girl who cuts your hair, their philosophies about appointment times is quite different and yet they both deal with emergency appointments. A broken tooth, a bad home dye job. Tomato , tamatoh.. Personally, I am a huge proponent of first come first served.
The dentist finally saw me. Imagine his surprise that I was not actually there for a chipped tooth. I avoided the dentist office for years and he thinks I would subject myself to the dentists chair for a chipped tooth? Dentist, please.
First, he pumped my jaw full of Novocaine. Full. I have a head cold now but I don't care because I can't feel anything below my hair line or above my waist. And then he and his minion drilled. I don't care how numb I am the sound of the drill makes me tense up like a spring. Drill, drill, drill. My toothlet fell out. A quarter of a molar is a pretty big bit of tooth. I was surprised it took so much to fall out because in my mouth it felt like a strong breeze would have knocked it out. I could been eating real food all this time. Oh point of order about commercially available mashed potatoes, Sam's Club makes a kick ass version. Kroger's mashed potatoes taste like reconstituted potato flakes.
Any way.
They took x-rays and they found a toy surprise. My tooth is not only cracked it is abscessed.. . A lot. And has been for a while. Just about as long as it has been fractured, and oddly, I'm not in pain, not yet at least but now that I know I should be in pain I'm going to wake up at 2am howling in agony. Should I mention I've been a frequent visitor to my dentist since March? I'm there all the damn time, I've been x-rayed, had a cavity filled, a crown placed and had my teeth cleaned, and they didn't notice the giant fissure? The dentist looked in my mouth and said was It isn't chipped is it? I felt so comforted.
My tooth is toast. It may be fixable though, there are cracked and or broken teeth that present as more screwed then my tooth. I might be a candidate for a root canal. Or I might not, I have an appointment with an endodontist to make a final call on that. He'll either say it can be saved or it needs to be pulled, some teeth are so broken and damaged that there is nothing they can do. So if it's good news I get to undergo a root canal and if it's bad news I get an extraction. Sounds like six of one and a half dozen of the other to me.
I left the office with two prescriptions, one for a high enough dose of penicillin to cure the clap and another for enough vicodin to change my name to Gregiana House.
Truly, it is. Think of it as an early warning system. If something hurts we take care of it, if it hurts a lot, we take care of it now. The faster we take care of it, the less there is to take care of. Things that don't hurt don't get taken care of and as a result, a whole lot needs to be taken care of. Trust me, I know of whence I speak.
Yesterday was Dentist Appointment Day. When I called a week ago and explained to receptionist that I feared that I had a broken tooth and at the very least I had a cracked tooth and that my primary symptom was a quarter of the molar in question was loose and I needed an appointment now, the receptionist translated this as I was calling in to complain about a "chipped tooth" and left me to cool my heals for a week. Another significant road block to more timely access to care was my lack of pain. If you want to see your dentist now, tell the receptionist you are in pain, a lot of pain. The receptionist might get you in on Thursday.
My tooth and I were early, the receptionist asked if I was aware my appointment wasn't until 2pm. I said I knew this, I also now knew that I wasn't going to get in early. Your dentist office isn't the same as the girl who cuts your hair, their philosophies about appointment times is quite different and yet they both deal with emergency appointments. A broken tooth, a bad home dye job. Tomato , tamatoh.. Personally, I am a huge proponent of first come first served.
The dentist finally saw me. Imagine his surprise that I was not actually there for a chipped tooth. I avoided the dentist office for years and he thinks I would subject myself to the dentists chair for a chipped tooth? Dentist, please.
First, he pumped my jaw full of Novocaine. Full. I have a head cold now but I don't care because I can't feel anything below my hair line or above my waist. And then he and his minion drilled. I don't care how numb I am the sound of the drill makes me tense up like a spring. Drill, drill, drill. My toothlet fell out. A quarter of a molar is a pretty big bit of tooth. I was surprised it took so much to fall out because in my mouth it felt like a strong breeze would have knocked it out. I could been eating real food all this time. Oh point of order about commercially available mashed potatoes, Sam's Club makes a kick ass version. Kroger's mashed potatoes taste like reconstituted potato flakes.
Any way.
They took x-rays and they found a toy surprise. My tooth is not only cracked it is abscessed.. . A lot. And has been for a while. Just about as long as it has been fractured, and oddly, I'm not in pain, not yet at least but now that I know I should be in pain I'm going to wake up at 2am howling in agony. Should I mention I've been a frequent visitor to my dentist since March? I'm there all the damn time, I've been x-rayed, had a cavity filled, a crown placed and had my teeth cleaned, and they didn't notice the giant fissure? The dentist looked in my mouth and said was It isn't chipped is it? I felt so comforted.
My tooth is toast. It may be fixable though, there are cracked and or broken teeth that present as more screwed then my tooth. I might be a candidate for a root canal. Or I might not, I have an appointment with an endodontist to make a final call on that. He'll either say it can be saved or it needs to be pulled, some teeth are so broken and damaged that there is nothing they can do. So if it's good news I get to undergo a root canal and if it's bad news I get an extraction. Sounds like six of one and a half dozen of the other to me.
I left the office with two prescriptions, one for a high enough dose of penicillin to cure the clap and another for enough vicodin to change my name to Gregiana House.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Circus Extravaganza
SHOWTIME:
Monday through Friday - 1 Show each night 7:00 - 9:00 pm
Saturday and Sunday 3 Big Shows daily:
1pm - 3pm / 4 - 6 pm / 7 - 9 pm
Admission: Adult $12 and Child $5 - One child age 14 and under admitted free with each paid adult ticket. Free ticket giveaways on LaLey Radio and Univision. Click on attached weblink for a $2 discount coupon for adult admission.
Perhaps less your grandfathers circus and more your el abuelo’s. It doesn’t matter. I’m going I don’t even like circusi. They’re too busy too loud and all together too too . There is a guy over there trying to eaten by a tiger and another guy over there on a motorcycle inside a sphere trying to break his neck and that’s not even noticing the guy up there trying to fall to his death. And then there are the clowns running around the perimeter beating the hell out of each other.
Too, too too much . I can never decide who needs my attention the most - the tiger guy, the motorcycle inside a sphere guy or the guy on the highwire. I mean one at a time you could get really emotionally invested in these guys, before, you know, they die horribly but all at once? They just pull focus from each other and dilute the effect , instead of OH MY GAWD!, OH MY GAWD! OH MY GAWD! It’s more like, whatever- And I end up watching the clowns brutalize each other.
But. Circus Extravaganza has one ring and the tent isn’t tall enough to properly kill yourself even if you fell from the very highest point, and I looked at the find print on my hand bill and it doesn’t mention lions or motorcycles.. Performing Monkeys! yes! Dogs! yes! Snakes!yes! Bears!yes! Chimp! a chimp not”chimps”, was there a falling out? Did someone get eaten? Run away and join a FOX show? ... And “Much , Much More!” If they allow flash photography I may be in love.
Performing snakes but no web presence. My cat has a presence on the web. I finally found a notice on the fairgrounds calender of events between a family reunion and a gun and knife show. But that’s all right, it’s a boutique circus. Its’s the whole circus shrunk down to a cabaret act! . I’m pretty sure that even the nose bleed seats are right down front and if I don’t walk out of there with a clown in my pocket I’m going to be disappointed. I mean, imagine all the power and glory and chaos of a circus in your lap. Those spangly people flying around on the trapeze? Squeezed themselves into that costume and applied five pounds of eyeliner for you. Hell, one of them sold you your ticket and his sister made your hot dog. To work like that is what being an entertainer is, for real. You sell the tickets and paint the set and boil the hot dogs and Fly. Eleven shows a week. Eat your heart out Tom Cruise, you can’t boil a hot dog and you will never fly.
SHOWTIME:
Monday through Friday - 1 Show each night 7:00 - 9:00 pm
Saturday and Sunday 3 Big Shows daily:
1pm - 3pm / 4 - 6 pm / 7 - 9 pm
Admission: Adult $12 and Child $5 - One child age 14 and under admitted free with each paid adult ticket. Free ticket giveaways on LaLey Radio and Univision. Click on attached weblink for a $2 discount coupon for adult admission.
Perhaps less your grandfathers circus and more your el abuelo’s. It doesn’t matter. I’m going I don’t even like circusi. They’re too busy too loud and all together too too . There is a guy over there trying to eaten by a tiger and another guy over there on a motorcycle inside a sphere trying to break his neck and that’s not even noticing the guy up there trying to fall to his death. And then there are the clowns running around the perimeter beating the hell out of each other.
Too, too too much . I can never decide who needs my attention the most - the tiger guy, the motorcycle inside a sphere guy or the guy on the highwire. I mean one at a time you could get really emotionally invested in these guys, before, you know, they die horribly but all at once? They just pull focus from each other and dilute the effect , instead of OH MY GAWD!, OH MY GAWD! OH MY GAWD! It’s more like, whatever- And I end up watching the clowns brutalize each other.
But. Circus Extravaganza has one ring and the tent isn’t tall enough to properly kill yourself even if you fell from the very highest point, and I looked at the find print on my hand bill and it doesn’t mention lions or motorcycles.. Performing Monkeys! yes! Dogs! yes! Snakes!yes! Bears!yes! Chimp! a chimp not”chimps”, was there a falling out? Did someone get eaten? Run away and join a FOX show? ... And “Much , Much More!” If they allow flash photography I may be in love.
Performing snakes but no web presence. My cat has a presence on the web. I finally found a notice on the fairgrounds calender of events between a family reunion and a gun and knife show. But that’s all right, it’s a boutique circus. Its’s the whole circus shrunk down to a cabaret act! . I’m pretty sure that even the nose bleed seats are right down front and if I don’t walk out of there with a clown in my pocket I’m going to be disappointed. I mean, imagine all the power and glory and chaos of a circus in your lap. Those spangly people flying around on the trapeze? Squeezed themselves into that costume and applied five pounds of eyeliner for you. Hell, one of them sold you your ticket and his sister made your hot dog. To work like that is what being an entertainer is, for real. You sell the tickets and paint the set and boil the hot dogs and Fly. Eleven shows a week. Eat your heart out Tom Cruise, you can’t boil a hot dog and you will never fly.
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