My buddy Tal has written a very good story about the cars of his childhood, and his eventual journey to Ford (there's a story there). Anyway, it made me pause to consider the cars of my driving life. I'm trying to remember the ones from my own childhood, and when I get all the details straight, I'll post about those as well.
By 1986, I had gotten my permit, and tried my hardest to drive our family car -- a very small car with a standard transmission. I was hopeless with a four-in-the-floor. I consider myself an intelligent girl, but I could not (and still cannot) get the hang of it. So Dad felt there was no choice but to find me a reliable car with an automatic transmission. And that was how "The Bomber" came into my life.
The Bomber was a 1976 Chevrolet Caprice Classic in light metallic blue. You could seat 6 people and have room for a full-court basketball game in there. When I got it in the summer of '86, it had about 90K on it. It had power EVERYTHING .... seats, mirrors, steering, brakes, everything.
I drove it my entire senior year, and it became legendary then..... I hit a tree with the car; not a scratch. A big truck bumped my back bumper on the way to work one day; nothing. This car was indestructible -- and I felt great in it. I didn't care how old it was, how big it was, or anything else. It was my baby.
I left it at home when I went to college. We were told that you couldn't get a parking permit for our dorm (the apartment complex). Massive bummer. When I moved on campus, I found out I could get an on-street permit from the City for the massive sum of $7.50 per year. So the first weekend I went home, I got a ride up from Claudy Fewell, and brought the car back with me. It stayed with me all through my college days, my first job, and my second job.
Everyone in college had the same thing to say about The Bomber .... "It has character." It did. It was hit the day before Thanksgiving 1987 and banged up badly. The body was never the same after that, but oh, it drove like a dream.
When my second job ended, due to a massive shutdown of a facility, we got very nice severance packages, based on how long we'd been with the company. As a less-than-one-full-year employee, I got the bare minimum, but it was enough to get another pre-owned vehicle. I'd had The Bomber for nine years. While it still drove beautifully, it was now 19 years old and getting harder and harder to maintain. The body wasn't holding up well either. As much as it did pain me to let her go, I did ..... My dad sold The Bomber for parts -- because honestly, it was worth more that way. I didn't shed a tear, but now, I kind of wish I had.
Dad told me about another car he found: a 1985 Olds '88 Royale in dark grey. The price was right, I could pay in cash with my severance, and it ran fairly well. All I can say is HUGE mistake. The body was fantastic -- never had a problem with it. But the engine was a nightmare. It was the Anti-Bomber. There was this problem, that problem, eventually rebuild the engine or transmission (I forget which). I sank way more money into maintenance on that car than I care to admit. After only four and a half years, the CV joint went. I was not about to sink another $500 into a car not worth that much. So I took my tax refund and used it as a down payment on.....
Goldie, the 1995 Ford Escort. I had passed this car lot at least 3-4 times a week and they always seemed to have nice, well-cared-for pre-owned vehicles. So I stopped in, said, "Okay, here's the monthly payment I can afford. What do you have?" 3 cars. Goldie, a white Olds (and I did not want another Olds!) and a hot pink Mercury Topaz. Goldie or a hot pink Topaz. The choice was obvious. I ended up walking out with a payment a little higher than I really wanted, but still manageable.
Goldie ended up being a great car. All the factory parts were still in it, and for a four-cylinder compact car, it was incredible. I first had an issue with it about 6 months after I got it. I'd driven to Savannah to see the Glecks, and coming back through Columbia, it just quit on me. Turns out I'd broken a timing belt. That was it. The real cost was the towing to get it both off the interstate and then home from Columbia (YOW!). And the only other mechanical problem I had with it was that the transmission just died on me one day. We installed a rebuilt one, but other than that, nothing but regular maintenance.
I was driving Goldie when the church job went south. On February 1, I turned in my resignation. I was lining up interviews and doing some other things during that time. On February 8, I left work, cranked the car, and it started doing this weird chugging-jerking thing, like a Magic Fingers bed gone way loopy. I called my favorite mechanic (a/k/a Daddy), and he had me drive it (as much as I could) to a nearby mechanic -- honestly, just down the street from the church. The next day, the guy called to tell us it was something where it would be about $1000 to replace. Again, I was faced with the prospect of sinking more into a vehicle than it was worth.
In five years, I'd put about 80K in mileage on Goldie -- trips to Savannah, Atlanta, Biloxi, genealogy trips all over the Upstate, just the daily grind. And now, I was soon to be jobless, possibly for the long haul. I was also deeply in medical debt, thanks to that lovely little cholecystectomy I'd had 17 months earlier. I needed a terribly reliable car in the worst way possible, at the cheapest rate possible, and for the best deal possible. It wasn't looking good.
On the way home, as I was sitting in the truck with Dad, despairing at what to do, we passed a different car lot...... I'd seen them a few times, and pondered going to them. They were just a local mom-and-pop thing, with just a few cars at a time, and their sign offered "We Finance - No Interest - No Credit Check." Okay, that was promising. I admit that faced with tough decisions, sometimes my response has been typically Scarlett: "I'll think about it tomorrow." And that was exactly what I did. I just needed to get through the next few days and worry about it -- later.
That Saturday, my dad said, "Come get in the car." And in a way that told me I had better. He'd gone by the little car lot, and found one for me to look at. It was a 1997 white Ford Taurus. The car looked fantastic, only had 60K on the odometer (not bad for an 8-year-old vehicle!), and had a nice interior. They had another white Taurus there, but Dad said he just didn't like the looks of it. When I went to talk to the people, my heart sank a little. It was a repaired salvage car. That gave me tremendous pause -- I surely did not want a lemon on my hands. But I drove it around, and some of my fears were alleviated. Apparently, the damage must have been strictly to the body. After some discussion with my Dad, and a couple of days to round up the down payment, I left work early on that last day to get it.
I haven't really given it a nickname, like I did with the other cars. It's a good solid car. So far, there have been no major problems, just regular maintenance. I've put over 100K on it-- unfortunately, having a 65-mile round-trip daily commute will do that. But it's been great! It needs a real car-wash (not just the "let me hose her down to knock off the pollen" routine), and is getting another oil-change tomorrow. I need her to last a little while longer.
***
Last summer, I started thinking about getting another car -- a small SUV, for that matter. Maddox fits somewhat comfortably across my back seat, but God forbid we have him AND other people in the car. I could get one person and that would be it.
There was a used-car place in Greenville where you could check out their inventory online. Great!!! So I looked, with some criteria in mind: small SUV (Ford Escape or Toyota Rav4), less than 60K in mileage, no more than 4 years old, and if at all possible, under $15,000. Much harder than it looked, but I saw a few potential ones. I even did the "contact us!" and never heard a response.
I even (God help me) called the one place I never wanted to deal with. Ever. Those of you who know me well know exactly which dealership I mean: "(BRAND NAME) OF (TOWN!!!!!!!)" yelled just like they do in their radio/TV ads. They suggested I submit my credit app online, and I said, "Oh, okay!" But I thought, "Oh hell no, I will do that in person, and you may pull it ONCE, not 19 bazillion times."
By August, a little voice in my head said, "Wait until October." Now, I claim absolutely zero psychic abilities, and I don't imagine myself to be Joan of Arc and hearing the voice of God. But my intuition is usually fairly good, and so I decided to wait. A few days later it hit me that my review is usually in October, and it might be good to see how that would turn out first. By early October, I looked at their website inventory again, and the little SUV's were hardly around -- surprising, since gas was continuing to rise. But okay, whatever. I eventually decided to hold off a little longer myself......
Imagine my shock when our local news reported a few weeks ago that this particular used-car lot was forced to close to due lack of business....... and the next day that several recent customers couldn't get their titles. And the next day when some reported that their credit reports are showing them owing the full amount (still) of their trade-ins. BIG issues. And I am so glad I listened to my inner voice that told me to wait .... and that their inventory wasn't as good later as I expected.
And as long as gas prices are hovering where they are, I'll maintain my Taurus as best as I can!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
RIP Charlie
I Am Pissed. In Purple. Donny-and-Marie-from-the-70s Purple.
Charlie 106.3 is no more. Apparently, in 10 months, the ratings never got to the level The Suits wanted, and once again, there is a format change.
About 4 years ago, it was an oldies station and pulled in nice ratings -- nothing to ever make it Top 5 in the area, but decent. Then after a corporate merger, it became "The Walk": positive country & contemporary Christian. It was a format destined for failure here. Country stations are owned by "Sheer Panel" around here, and you can't sling a dead cat without hitting a religious station. Combining the two was less of a genius idea than The Suits planned on. I refused to listen to that station on sheer principle. After that failure (though it took The Suits 18 months, maybe 2 years to finally cave) they switched to "Women Talk" with syndicated stuff, mostly from Greenstone Media. Hey, I lean liberal on a lot of social issues of import to women, and even I was bored and occasionally ill-at-ease with the station the few times I listened in. Cooterville has a large female contingent, but this was too liberal for this area, and -- dare I say it -- rather unnecessary. The ratings proved so.
Well, actually, Greenstone went belly up and so did "Women Talk" ...... so The Suits did "Charlie" (a Jack format, re-named of course) starting last August. FINALLY! There was a station to suit me. Johnny Cash one minute and Prince the next, followed by Barry White or maybe even Barry Manilow. A lot of everything. It was fantastic. I wasn't thrilled by the lack of DJ's, but I got used to it because of the music.
And now it's gone. "We gave it 10 months!!!!" Right. 10 months is more than enough time to build a station base and help it succeed. What's replaced it? A simulcast (trimulcast, really) of the AM talk radio sister stations --- Rush, Sean Hannity, Mike Gallagher, the local right-wing folks. Sweet God, deliver me. I'd rather cut off a left appendage than listen to that crapfest.
The Suits have 4 other stations (not counting the gabfest tri-stations), including a couple that I used to listen to fairly regularly. No more. I will even lift my boycott of Sheer Panel if I have to. Actually, I have another option: XM or Sirius (or if things go as planned XM-Sirius)....... and as soon as I save up enough, I'm going satellite. I'm tired of music I hate. I'm especially tired of The Suits and Sheer Panel trying to tell me what music I should and shouldn't like .... because I don't fit their formats.
I'm a P1 for most adult contemporary formats -- at least according to all the demographics. I should swoon every time I hear Josh Groban, right? Is it any wonder I've been listening to SportsTalk? I don't fit any of their demographic molds -- and I'm pretty damn proud of that.
RIP, Charlie. You were good. And taken too soon.
Charlie 106.3 is no more. Apparently, in 10 months, the ratings never got to the level The Suits wanted, and once again, there is a format change.
About 4 years ago, it was an oldies station and pulled in nice ratings -- nothing to ever make it Top 5 in the area, but decent. Then after a corporate merger, it became "The Walk": positive country & contemporary Christian. It was a format destined for failure here. Country stations are owned by "Sheer Panel" around here, and you can't sling a dead cat without hitting a religious station. Combining the two was less of a genius idea than The Suits planned on. I refused to listen to that station on sheer principle. After that failure (though it took The Suits 18 months, maybe 2 years to finally cave) they switched to "Women Talk" with syndicated stuff, mostly from Greenstone Media. Hey, I lean liberal on a lot of social issues of import to women, and even I was bored and occasionally ill-at-ease with the station the few times I listened in. Cooterville has a large female contingent, but this was too liberal for this area, and -- dare I say it -- rather unnecessary. The ratings proved so.
Well, actually, Greenstone went belly up and so did "Women Talk" ...... so The Suits did "Charlie" (a Jack format, re-named of course) starting last August. FINALLY! There was a station to suit me. Johnny Cash one minute and Prince the next, followed by Barry White or maybe even Barry Manilow. A lot of everything. It was fantastic. I wasn't thrilled by the lack of DJ's, but I got used to it because of the music.
And now it's gone. "We gave it 10 months!!!!" Right. 10 months is more than enough time to build a station base and help it succeed. What's replaced it? A simulcast (trimulcast, really) of the AM talk radio sister stations --- Rush, Sean Hannity, Mike Gallagher, the local right-wing folks. Sweet God, deliver me. I'd rather cut off a left appendage than listen to that crapfest.
The Suits have 4 other stations (not counting the gabfest tri-stations), including a couple that I used to listen to fairly regularly. No more. I will even lift my boycott of Sheer Panel if I have to. Actually, I have another option: XM or Sirius (or if things go as planned XM-Sirius)....... and as soon as I save up enough, I'm going satellite. I'm tired of music I hate. I'm especially tired of The Suits and Sheer Panel trying to tell me what music I should and shouldn't like .... because I don't fit their formats.
I'm a P1 for most adult contemporary formats -- at least according to all the demographics. I should swoon every time I hear Josh Groban, right? Is it any wonder I've been listening to SportsTalk? I don't fit any of their demographic molds -- and I'm pretty damn proud of that.
RIP, Charlie. You were good. And taken too soon.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
To hell with Doc Brown...
To quote England Dan and John Ford Coley...
Wish I had a time machine, I could
Make myself go back until the day I was born,
So I could live my life again,
And rearrange it so that.....
The rest of the verse and song isn't germane, but those sentiments are.
I don't usually have regrets or coulda-woulda-shouldas. I joke on occasion about Doc Brown and not messing up the space-time continuum, but there is some truth there. If I were to change even one little thing, who knows the ramifications and how it would alter what I know to be reality. I honestly mean it when I say that I wouldn't even change the less-than-wonderful moments in my life, because they have made me who I am today. This morning, however, I found that I do have a couple of things to add to the CWS list, and I would give an appendage for a DeLorean and a flux capacitor.
I went for an early MLD appointment. My therapist had told me to go ahead and unwrap at home to make it easier for me, and treat my lower legs to an actual shower. Right now, I'm having to treat the wrappings like a cast -- stick my leg in a trash bag, tape it shut to avoid water (which still doesn't always help) and go from there. I gotta tell you, it felt SO good to be free from the bandages for a while. Until.......
I hopped up on the table and began to slide up my pants legs for the MLD. The area where the lymphedema is most pronounced was a violent shade of red and violet. Drainage wasn't happening without compression. Even for just that short time (about 90 minutes), it wasn't working.
My therapist was okay with it.... within just a few moments of elevation, the color was going back to a more normal tone. It's discolored anyway, but at first looked like a sledgehammer had worked on it. But she said that for the long haul, compression was going to be a necessity, either through bandaging or compression hosiery/socks. I expected it, but I suppose I wasn't quite as prepared for the finality of it. I guess in the back of my mind, there might be a miraculous chance that after just a couple of years or so, everything would be hunky-dory. But it's going to be more like the rest of my life, or close enough to it.
And that's when I wished for the time machine ..... to go back to my teen years and think when I first noticed the problem. To have gone for medical treatment then instead of assuming that it was just part of me getting fatter. To have taken Mrs. D (our librarian) up on her offer of paying for me to attend Weight Watchers way back then. To have just been smarter and wiser about things.
Yeah, I know -- it is totally impossible to redo the past (even if I could) knowing what I know now. And in this case, this condition might have been present from birth -- or certainly during my developing years (when this system didn't properly develop). That cannot be helped.
I have to stop beating myself up over what I failed to do, and concentrate my energies on what I can do now. And to make my next 40+ years a complete change from the sorry way I treated myself the first 36.
Wish I had a time machine, I could
Make myself go back until the day I was born,
So I could live my life again,
And rearrange it so that.....
The rest of the verse and song isn't germane, but those sentiments are.
I don't usually have regrets or coulda-woulda-shouldas. I joke on occasion about Doc Brown and not messing up the space-time continuum, but there is some truth there. If I were to change even one little thing, who knows the ramifications and how it would alter what I know to be reality. I honestly mean it when I say that I wouldn't even change the less-than-wonderful moments in my life, because they have made me who I am today. This morning, however, I found that I do have a couple of things to add to the CWS list, and I would give an appendage for a DeLorean and a flux capacitor.
I went for an early MLD appointment. My therapist had told me to go ahead and unwrap at home to make it easier for me, and treat my lower legs to an actual shower. Right now, I'm having to treat the wrappings like a cast -- stick my leg in a trash bag, tape it shut to avoid water (which still doesn't always help) and go from there. I gotta tell you, it felt SO good to be free from the bandages for a while. Until.......
I hopped up on the table and began to slide up my pants legs for the MLD. The area where the lymphedema is most pronounced was a violent shade of red and violet. Drainage wasn't happening without compression. Even for just that short time (about 90 minutes), it wasn't working.
My therapist was okay with it.... within just a few moments of elevation, the color was going back to a more normal tone. It's discolored anyway, but at first looked like a sledgehammer had worked on it. But she said that for the long haul, compression was going to be a necessity, either through bandaging or compression hosiery/socks. I expected it, but I suppose I wasn't quite as prepared for the finality of it. I guess in the back of my mind, there might be a miraculous chance that after just a couple of years or so, everything would be hunky-dory. But it's going to be more like the rest of my life, or close enough to it.
And that's when I wished for the time machine ..... to go back to my teen years and think when I first noticed the problem. To have gone for medical treatment then instead of assuming that it was just part of me getting fatter. To have taken Mrs. D (our librarian) up on her offer of paying for me to attend Weight Watchers way back then. To have just been smarter and wiser about things.
Yeah, I know -- it is totally impossible to redo the past (even if I could) knowing what I know now. And in this case, this condition might have been present from birth -- or certainly during my developing years (when this system didn't properly develop). That cannot be helped.
I have to stop beating myself up over what I failed to do, and concentrate my energies on what I can do now. And to make my next 40+ years a complete change from the sorry way I treated myself the first 36.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Help! Help! I've been tagged!!!
The rules: Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
What was I doing ten years ago?
Making it through each day, in a weird fog. A long-term relationship had just ended differently than I'd hoped. My job was just okay. I just didn't really like things, but wasn't sure I could change.
What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list for today:
1. Walk the dog.
2. Vote in the primary.
3. Attend the RFTC Committee meeting.
4. Pick up lunch.
5. Check e-mail.
(all DONE!)
5 Snacks I enjoy:
Pink Lady apples
Weight Watchers minibars (the peanut butter bliss are OMG)
Oranges
Fiber One bars
Jolly Time popcorn minibags
Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Quit, and buy my radio station.
Give money to my old college for a scholarship. Actually, I'd set up my own foundation and do scholarships that way.
Buy some land and create a Lab rescue organization.
Pay off my parents' bills and house. Give money to my brother.
Places I have lived:
Liberty SC
*college - Charleston SC
Jobs I have had:
Babysitter
Telemarketer
Computer lab assistant
Box office ticket seller
Administrative assistant
Call center coordinator
Administrative assistant/bookkeeper
Accounting clerk
Ok, time to tag 5 people. I'm going to tag:
Stacey, Bolivar, Vixen, Sheila, and Ballz. Have fun y'all!
What was I doing ten years ago?
Making it through each day, in a weird fog. A long-term relationship had just ended differently than I'd hoped. My job was just okay. I just didn't really like things, but wasn't sure I could change.
What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list for today:
1. Walk the dog.
2. Vote in the primary.
3. Attend the RFTC Committee meeting.
4. Pick up lunch.
5. Check e-mail.
(all DONE!)
5 Snacks I enjoy:
Pink Lady apples
Weight Watchers minibars (the peanut butter bliss are OMG)
Oranges
Fiber One bars
Jolly Time popcorn minibags
Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Quit, and buy my radio station.
Give money to my old college for a scholarship. Actually, I'd set up my own foundation and do scholarships that way.
Buy some land and create a Lab rescue organization.
Pay off my parents' bills and house. Give money to my brother.
Places I have lived:
Liberty SC
*college - Charleston SC
Jobs I have had:
Babysitter
Telemarketer
Computer lab assistant
Box office ticket seller
Administrative assistant
Call center coordinator
Administrative assistant/bookkeeper
Accounting clerk
Ok, time to tag 5 people. I'm going to tag:
Stacey, Bolivar, Vixen, Sheila, and Ballz. Have fun y'all!
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Hey, just like my real prom.....
Last night, I went to a local radio station's "Awesome 80s Prom" (really an excuse for a party). A friend had gotten me a ticket and I was supposed to meet her over there.
I opined in another forum about trying to find a prom dress at a thrift shop on short notice. It wasn't successful at all -- so I went with Plan B. Jeans that looked quasi-acid-washed, a polo with collar turned up, and my dad's Members Only jacket (OMG, yes, he still has one). I found a cheap blue eyeliner pencil and I was good to go. Couldn't find any blue mascara ... okay, I wasn't willing to pay more than $4 for some because I was ONLY going to wear it once!
I got to the hotel, and the guy asked to see my ID. I gave him a huge hug ..... he made my night! I used to get carded regularly, but that stopped almost altogether around age 32 (except for waitstaff angling for a tip - and I'm a sucker for that).
I got there, and luckily for me, there was a wide variety of clothing styles. Yes, most of the gals had on prom dresses, but I just didn't care. I was happy and comfy and wasn't having people staring going "OMG, what's with her legs?" Of course, I realized later that I could have just worn a regular dress and slung some legwarmers on there.... DUH! Except for that pesky promise I made to myself in 7th grade that I would never ever wear them again (mine were striped -- horizontally -- red, white, and blue. Yay, America.)
I spent the next hour or so wandering around looking for my friend. I never did see her, and by 10 PM, I decided I'd had enough fun. But in the meantime I did get to dance with a total stranger......
I opined in another forum about trying to find a prom dress at a thrift shop on short notice. It wasn't successful at all -- so I went with Plan B. Jeans that looked quasi-acid-washed, a polo with collar turned up, and my dad's Members Only jacket (OMG, yes, he still has one). I found a cheap blue eyeliner pencil and I was good to go. Couldn't find any blue mascara ... okay, I wasn't willing to pay more than $4 for some because I was ONLY going to wear it once!
I got to the hotel, and the guy asked to see my ID. I gave him a huge hug ..... he made my night! I used to get carded regularly, but that stopped almost altogether around age 32 (except for waitstaff angling for a tip - and I'm a sucker for that).
I got there, and luckily for me, there was a wide variety of clothing styles. Yes, most of the gals had on prom dresses, but I just didn't care. I was happy and comfy and wasn't having people staring going "OMG, what's with her legs?" Of course, I realized later that I could have just worn a regular dress and slung some legwarmers on there.... DUH! Except for that pesky promise I made to myself in 7th grade that I would never ever wear them again (mine were striped -- horizontally -- red, white, and blue. Yay, America.)
I spent the next hour or so wandering around looking for my friend. I never did see her, and by 10 PM, I decided I'd had enough fun. But in the meantime I did get to dance with a total stranger......
Friday, June 06, 2008
Progress is being made!
Today was my 3rd MLD treatment, and my first measurements since treatment. SUCCESS!!!!! In some areas I have already lost inches! And I can tell the MLD is working.
This is good. Very good!
This is good. Very good!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
An interesting medical turn.....
Here's a little background: I have big ugly tree-trunk legs. I do not lie nor kid. It's not just cankles. It's all over bulk, and just ugly. But hey ... that's how it is.
A couple of months back, one of my doctors suggested I go ahead and consult with a plastic surgeon about possible removal of the huge amount of bulk down on my lower legs. Okay, I'm hip to that! So I met with the plastic surgeon, who suggested waiting until I'm a bit closer to goal weight before we even consider surgery..... but in the meantime, she said to get myself a good pair of firm support compression stockings -- which would also have to be special-ordered because of the strength she suggested (and the size of my legs, no doubt).
I found a medical supply place near work, stopped in there to buy the stockings, and the lady took me to a back room for measurements. When I pulled up my pants legs, she immediately about had a cow. Turns out she has a background in people with lymphedema. She suggested that before we order the hosiery, I get MLD -- manual lymphatic drainage -- a massage that will help get rid of all the excess fluid that has built up and can't work itself out because of the insufficiency.
So, I got back in touch with the plastic surgeon to see if she would do the prescription for this therapy (since I can't just walk in and say, "HEY! I'd like some MLD today!"). She enthusiastically agreed, and last Friday was my first physical therapy appointment for MLD.
On Friday, Debbie (the therapist) gave me some interesting news, some hope, and reason to smile about my legs. Turns out that I have primary lymphedema, which means that it is something that didn't develop properly in my lymph system either in the womb or during my developing years. Upon further research, I learned that I probably have lymphedema praecox (Miege's Disease), meaning that it didn't manifest itself until after puberty but before age 35. I had told Debbie that the last picture I remember of myself with normal looking legs was somewhere around age 14. So we decided on treatments 3 times a week at least for the short term (one or two months). The only downside to all this is that even after I eventually have alllllll that extra skin removed, I will still have lymphedema to deal with. I will always have to wear some kind of support hosiery, even if it's just light hose for special events. Maybe a sleeve to sleep in, or wear during the day.
So I was in some light support tubing this weekend -- the same weekend that God decided to flip the "Hotter-n-Hades" switch across the south. But I was determined to make it work. On Monday, I had my first MLD treatment. I got to lay on a table, put my feet up on a wedge, and get worked over. Then I got wrapped after it was over --- Borissa Karloff, from the knees down. I looked like The Mummy. I had a stocking thing (like you'd put on a broken leg before they put the cast on), then some padding over the affected area, and then bandaged from mid-foot to just below the knee. Speaking of casts, I have to treat these like a cast ..... yep, I put my legs in trash bags and tape 'em closed tight.
Today was my 2nd treatment -- and Debbie was extremely pleased!! Apparently, I already have some good results on the horizon. My legs were starting to wrinkle a little, meaning all that excess fluid is finally draining out!!!!
This is just yet another interesting turn in the road of my life. I can't wait to see how it will all turn out!
A couple of months back, one of my doctors suggested I go ahead and consult with a plastic surgeon about possible removal of the huge amount of bulk down on my lower legs. Okay, I'm hip to that! So I met with the plastic surgeon, who suggested waiting until I'm a bit closer to goal weight before we even consider surgery..... but in the meantime, she said to get myself a good pair of firm support compression stockings -- which would also have to be special-ordered because of the strength she suggested (and the size of my legs, no doubt).
I found a medical supply place near work, stopped in there to buy the stockings, and the lady took me to a back room for measurements. When I pulled up my pants legs, she immediately about had a cow. Turns out she has a background in people with lymphedema. She suggested that before we order the hosiery, I get MLD -- manual lymphatic drainage -- a massage that will help get rid of all the excess fluid that has built up and can't work itself out because of the insufficiency.
So, I got back in touch with the plastic surgeon to see if she would do the prescription for this therapy (since I can't just walk in and say, "HEY! I'd like some MLD today!"). She enthusiastically agreed, and last Friday was my first physical therapy appointment for MLD.
On Friday, Debbie (the therapist) gave me some interesting news, some hope, and reason to smile about my legs. Turns out that I have primary lymphedema, which means that it is something that didn't develop properly in my lymph system either in the womb or during my developing years. Upon further research, I learned that I probably have lymphedema praecox (Miege's Disease), meaning that it didn't manifest itself until after puberty but before age 35. I had told Debbie that the last picture I remember of myself with normal looking legs was somewhere around age 14. So we decided on treatments 3 times a week at least for the short term (one or two months). The only downside to all this is that even after I eventually have alllllll that extra skin removed, I will still have lymphedema to deal with. I will always have to wear some kind of support hosiery, even if it's just light hose for special events. Maybe a sleeve to sleep in, or wear during the day.
So I was in some light support tubing this weekend -- the same weekend that God decided to flip the "Hotter-n-Hades" switch across the south. But I was determined to make it work. On Monday, I had my first MLD treatment. I got to lay on a table, put my feet up on a wedge, and get worked over. Then I got wrapped after it was over --- Borissa Karloff, from the knees down. I looked like The Mummy. I had a stocking thing (like you'd put on a broken leg before they put the cast on), then some padding over the affected area, and then bandaged from mid-foot to just below the knee. Speaking of casts, I have to treat these like a cast ..... yep, I put my legs in trash bags and tape 'em closed tight.
Today was my 2nd treatment -- and Debbie was extremely pleased!! Apparently, I already have some good results on the horizon. My legs were starting to wrinkle a little, meaning all that excess fluid is finally draining out!!!!
This is just yet another interesting turn in the road of my life. I can't wait to see how it will all turn out!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Memories of Great Halls....
My pal Tal has written a beautiful and moving elegy of the ASU Seminole Twin Towers, his home during his college days, and now demolished. It made me think of the many abodes I had in college -- not as many abodes as roommates, but that's another tale for another day.
First up: University Place (August 23, 1987-September 11, 1987... eek!). I was 17 when I left home and moved into my first dorm room. Housing had messed up and somehow overbooked housing, so a number of us were quickly shuffled into two off-campus housing locations at MUSC (the medical school just down the street from C of C). University Place was a private apartment complex -- still six blocks or so from my campus and just on the edge of the rough section of town.
Now, this seems like a great setup, right? Our own APARTMENT, instead of a crappy dorm. We have our own kitchen! There is no one to monitor us!!! WOO-HOO!!! Wrong. Looking back, there were two primary reasons I hated it tremendously .... one, I was still in transition from small-town girl (and super-goody-two-shoes at that), and two, I had Roomie from Hell #1. Okay, really, she wasn't, but we were polar opposites. She was brash and very curt, whereas I was far more meek and given to great emotional displays at that time. Even that first night, the other suitemates told her to lighten up. Once she discovered I had no plans to go Greek, then I was truly persona non grata. A complete nobody in her perfect little Tri-Delt world (and to be fair, I knew lots of nice Tri-Delts; she simply wasn't one of them).
I was a thorn in the Housing Office's side for the next two weeks. I went every single day, begging to be moved. I cried. I squalled. I pleaded. Finally by September 9, I had given up and just decided I was going to have to make do. The one bright spot was that I had decided to take part in a service fraternity -- which Miss Tri-Delt promptly declared "for losers" and which my also-Greek suitemate said, "Hey, listen. Shut up. It's not for you, and that's fine. But it sounds perfect for her, so Just. Lay. Off. Got it?" (I still think fondly of her to this day, and I haven't spoken to her in 20 years).
Salvation came on September 10. Solveig from Housing called. Seems a place had opened up in one of the historic houses, and that there would eventually be a third roommate moved in, but was I interested? I told her, "I'll take it." Solveig: "But don't you at least want to go over and check it out first?" Me: "Yeah, but sign me up anyway." Solveig: "Go look first, then come by Housing." Me: "I don't care. I'm taking it, and I'm coming over to look at it."
24 Bull, Room 101: (September 11, 1987-end of Spring 1989) So I hopped on the downtown trolley as quickly as I could, went to the room, met the current tenant, and five minutes later, ran over to Housing and told Solveig once again, "I'LL TAKE IT!!!" My new roomie helped me move everything in the next evening, and I was happier than forty clams.
24 Bull was one of several historic homes that had been renovated into living quarters. It was usually limited to upperclassmen only, but because of Housing's massive screw-ups over the summer, there were several freshmen and sophomores living there. I didn't care if it had been rooms full of goldfish and I'd been asked to clean all the poop. I was taking it. The reason the houses were normally off-limits to underclassmen was that there were no real restrictions. Technically, we all had the same rules as the "real" dorms .... only there were no check-in desks. No monitors. There was a security guard who stopped by and patrolled by, but no real authority figure who checked up on you. Okay, granted at 24 Bull, our RA lived with us (but she had responsibility for our house and four others on the street). But as far as following the same rules as "real" dorms, BAH! We laughed at them.......
24 Bull #101 was my home for the next two years. And that first year -- in spite of a few things -- remains one of the most wonderful times in my college memory. There were nine of us on the first floor -- 3 in Room 101 (the third roomie moved in the first weekend of October), 2 in Room 102, 3 in Room 105, and 1 in the private "senior suite" (Room 106), which had private access. She didn't socialize much with the rest of us -- freshmen and sophomores -- but we had a large time with the 8 of us!!! We were in and out of each others' rooms like they were our own. We developed some good relationships which withstood some pretty weird things ..... such as having a kleptomaniac on our floor (which turned out to be the original occupant of our room). Stacey moved in later that spring (having had a problem with her roommate, in another of the houses up the street), and a friendship was solidified. The next year wasn't so hot. Of the original 8, only 2 of us were there the next year. The entire dynamic changed, and a new RA came along who was definitely not Dawn (the previous RA). After the end of that lousy 2nd year, I decided a change was in order. And to continue the regression from apartment to historic house, I went from house to "real" dorm. And I picked the coolest one on campus.............
College Lodge, Room 608: (Fall 1989-end of Spring 1991) Let me backtrack a little. When I lived at 24 Bull, we were under the auspices of the College Inn. The Inn (as it was known) was an old motel that the College had purchased many years prior and turned into a dorm. It was a dump -- but a dump with character. If you moved into the Inn, you never wanted to leave. And indeed, there were some who were 4-year-residents at the Inn. But they paved Paradise and literally put up a Parking Lot (I think they called it "S" Lot). The Lodge was similar -- a high-rise hotel with an incredibly small parking deck that the College had turned into dorm space.
Like the Inn, the Lodge was also legendary. While not quite inspiring the same loyalty as the Inn had, it was nonetheless a great place to live -- if for one reason and one reason only: private bathrooms. See, at 24 Bull, we shared a hall bath. You try coordinating 9 girls and their bathroom time. That first year worked great, with no arguing. That second year... not so well. We made a schedule of who would take morning showers and evening showers. It was that crazy. But in the Lodge, there would only be two of us sharing that bathroom. And those bathrooms had tubs -- perfect for lolling (it was showers only at every other dorm). The only other possibly cooler dorm on campus was Rutledge Rivers -- apartment-style dorms with a living room, and those were impossible to get into unless you just got lucky.
Oh, the Lodge, how I miss thee sometimes. You were a dump but by God, you were my dump!! I had the corner room facing the back of Maybank Hall and the side of the Simons Art Center, on the top floor. It was truly almost heaven. And for a time, there were 5 rooms in a row all filled with fraternity connections, plus other frat people in the Lodge. There were also classmates, coworkers, etc. It was the coolest place on earth. And especially that first year -- when Roy was our RD. Roy was the coolest grad student RD who ever lived. Roy appreciated that we were students, young and eager to test our limits. During our dorm meetings, I lost count of the number of times I heard, "Now, come inspection time, I can check every place except your closet. We cannot go into your closet no matter what. And not saying I'm looking but if you have something you need to hide, remember: I can't check your closet."
Unfortunately, the next year, Roy had gotten his Master's, moved on, and we got a new RD who was as uptight and rules-heavy as Roy had been easygoing. When he mentioned the closet rule, he sounded almost disappointed that he couldn't check the closets. I swear, part of me wondered if he would have been happier in the military, doing quarter-bounce checks on cots. However, I'll give credit where it is due; he got me a visitor's pass for a friend who came for a during-the-week visit, when he didn't have to (technically, I was supposed to give a week's notice). Plus I had some other very serious stuff going on in my life.
At the end of that Spring '91 semester, I was tired of school and tired of dorm life. I decided apartment living was the way to go. So I put my name on "roommate wanted" at the Housing Office, and let it go from there.
Had I known how things that semester were going to go, I should have stayed home and never gone back!!! But that too is another tale for another day.
First up: University Place (August 23, 1987-September 11, 1987... eek!). I was 17 when I left home and moved into my first dorm room. Housing had messed up and somehow overbooked housing, so a number of us were quickly shuffled into two off-campus housing locations at MUSC (the medical school just down the street from C of C). University Place was a private apartment complex -- still six blocks or so from my campus and just on the edge of the rough section of town.
Now, this seems like a great setup, right? Our own APARTMENT, instead of a crappy dorm. We have our own kitchen! There is no one to monitor us!!! WOO-HOO!!! Wrong. Looking back, there were two primary reasons I hated it tremendously .... one, I was still in transition from small-town girl (and super-goody-two-shoes at that), and two, I had Roomie from Hell #1. Okay, really, she wasn't, but we were polar opposites. She was brash and very curt, whereas I was far more meek and given to great emotional displays at that time. Even that first night, the other suitemates told her to lighten up. Once she discovered I had no plans to go Greek, then I was truly persona non grata. A complete nobody in her perfect little Tri-Delt world (and to be fair, I knew lots of nice Tri-Delts; she simply wasn't one of them).
I was a thorn in the Housing Office's side for the next two weeks. I went every single day, begging to be moved. I cried. I squalled. I pleaded. Finally by September 9, I had given up and just decided I was going to have to make do. The one bright spot was that I had decided to take part in a service fraternity -- which Miss Tri-Delt promptly declared "for losers" and which my also-Greek suitemate said, "Hey, listen. Shut up. It's not for you, and that's fine. But it sounds perfect for her, so Just. Lay. Off. Got it?" (I still think fondly of her to this day, and I haven't spoken to her in 20 years).
Salvation came on September 10. Solveig from Housing called. Seems a place had opened up in one of the historic houses, and that there would eventually be a third roommate moved in, but was I interested? I told her, "I'll take it." Solveig: "But don't you at least want to go over and check it out first?" Me: "Yeah, but sign me up anyway." Solveig: "Go look first, then come by Housing." Me: "I don't care. I'm taking it, and I'm coming over to look at it."
24 Bull, Room 101: (September 11, 1987-end of Spring 1989) So I hopped on the downtown trolley as quickly as I could, went to the room, met the current tenant, and five minutes later, ran over to Housing and told Solveig once again, "I'LL TAKE IT!!!" My new roomie helped me move everything in the next evening, and I was happier than forty clams.
24 Bull was one of several historic homes that had been renovated into living quarters. It was usually limited to upperclassmen only, but because of Housing's massive screw-ups over the summer, there were several freshmen and sophomores living there. I didn't care if it had been rooms full of goldfish and I'd been asked to clean all the poop. I was taking it. The reason the houses were normally off-limits to underclassmen was that there were no real restrictions. Technically, we all had the same rules as the "real" dorms .... only there were no check-in desks. No monitors. There was a security guard who stopped by and patrolled by, but no real authority figure who checked up on you. Okay, granted at 24 Bull, our RA lived with us (but she had responsibility for our house and four others on the street). But as far as following the same rules as "real" dorms, BAH! We laughed at them.......
24 Bull #101 was my home for the next two years. And that first year -- in spite of a few things -- remains one of the most wonderful times in my college memory. There were nine of us on the first floor -- 3 in Room 101 (the third roomie moved in the first weekend of October), 2 in Room 102, 3 in Room 105, and 1 in the private "senior suite" (Room 106), which had private access. She didn't socialize much with the rest of us -- freshmen and sophomores -- but we had a large time with the 8 of us!!! We were in and out of each others' rooms like they were our own. We developed some good relationships which withstood some pretty weird things ..... such as having a kleptomaniac on our floor (which turned out to be the original occupant of our room). Stacey moved in later that spring (having had a problem with her roommate, in another of the houses up the street), and a friendship was solidified. The next year wasn't so hot. Of the original 8, only 2 of us were there the next year. The entire dynamic changed, and a new RA came along who was definitely not Dawn (the previous RA). After the end of that lousy 2nd year, I decided a change was in order. And to continue the regression from apartment to historic house, I went from house to "real" dorm. And I picked the coolest one on campus.............
College Lodge, Room 608: (Fall 1989-end of Spring 1991) Let me backtrack a little. When I lived at 24 Bull, we were under the auspices of the College Inn. The Inn (as it was known) was an old motel that the College had purchased many years prior and turned into a dorm. It was a dump -- but a dump with character. If you moved into the Inn, you never wanted to leave. And indeed, there were some who were 4-year-residents at the Inn. But they paved Paradise and literally put up a Parking Lot (I think they called it "S" Lot). The Lodge was similar -- a high-rise hotel with an incredibly small parking deck that the College had turned into dorm space.
Like the Inn, the Lodge was also legendary. While not quite inspiring the same loyalty as the Inn had, it was nonetheless a great place to live -- if for one reason and one reason only: private bathrooms. See, at 24 Bull, we shared a hall bath. You try coordinating 9 girls and their bathroom time. That first year worked great, with no arguing. That second year... not so well. We made a schedule of who would take morning showers and evening showers. It was that crazy. But in the Lodge, there would only be two of us sharing that bathroom. And those bathrooms had tubs -- perfect for lolling (it was showers only at every other dorm). The only other possibly cooler dorm on campus was Rutledge Rivers -- apartment-style dorms with a living room, and those were impossible to get into unless you just got lucky.
Oh, the Lodge, how I miss thee sometimes. You were a dump but by God, you were my dump!! I had the corner room facing the back of Maybank Hall and the side of the Simons Art Center, on the top floor. It was truly almost heaven. And for a time, there were 5 rooms in a row all filled with fraternity connections, plus other frat people in the Lodge. There were also classmates, coworkers, etc. It was the coolest place on earth. And especially that first year -- when Roy was our RD. Roy was the coolest grad student RD who ever lived. Roy appreciated that we were students, young and eager to test our limits. During our dorm meetings, I lost count of the number of times I heard, "Now, come inspection time, I can check every place except your closet. We cannot go into your closet no matter what. And not saying I'm looking but if you have something you need to hide, remember: I can't check your closet."
Unfortunately, the next year, Roy had gotten his Master's, moved on, and we got a new RD who was as uptight and rules-heavy as Roy had been easygoing. When he mentioned the closet rule, he sounded almost disappointed that he couldn't check the closets. I swear, part of me wondered if he would have been happier in the military, doing quarter-bounce checks on cots. However, I'll give credit where it is due; he got me a visitor's pass for a friend who came for a during-the-week visit, when he didn't have to (technically, I was supposed to give a week's notice). Plus I had some other very serious stuff going on in my life.
At the end of that Spring '91 semester, I was tired of school and tired of dorm life. I decided apartment living was the way to go. So I put my name on "roommate wanted" at the Housing Office, and let it go from there.
Had I known how things that semester were going to go, I should have stayed home and never gone back!!! But that too is another tale for another day.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Gearing up for the Race....
Breast cancer is a cause near and dear to my heart. I lost a great-aunt to complications from breast cancer back in the late 70s. I also lost a very dear friend from high school just a couple of years ago. On the flip side, my dad's sister is a 17-year-plus survivor.
Early detection saves lives. It really is that simple.
A little further about the high school friend. Long-time readers already know the story. Tee was like a sister to me in those days. But our early adult lives veered in different directions -- she was a wife and stay-at-home mom, while I was "career girl" (such as it was). We started only keeping in touch if we ran into each other (or ran into the parents) in the grocery store or Wal-Mart.
When I heard she'd been diagnosed, I was floored. And I had no idea how to approach her or all those years we'd gone without being part of each others' lives. So I took the chicken approach -- I did nothing. No flowers, no card, no nothing. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
I prayed -- I prayed for her. I put her name in our prayer book at church. I thought of her often. But it wasn't enough. Tee passed away just a few weeks short of turning 37. She left behind two teenage kids and a husband, plus parents who were now burying yet another child (her brother had died a few years earlier).
I was angry -- mostly at myself, but I was also truly angry at cancer. I hate cancer of all kinds to begin with, but having the family connections to the disease really make me hate breast cancer. This made me want to do something about it. I could never bring my friend back, and it's hard for me to forgive myself for not doing more when she was alive. I have to do what I can now.
This is my 2nd year to take part in the Upstate SC Race for the Cure. Last year, my walk time in the 5K was 1:06:34. I intend this year to come in at under an hour. And for the 2nd year, I'm the team captain for our corporate team. And I am on the race committee as "Sleep-In For The Cure" coordinator.
If you are so inclined, I would love to have you assist me with a donation. You can do it online by going to my RFTC fundraising page; you will receive an e-mail confirmation and tax receipt immediately. No amount is too small -- I promise -- and every dollar is greatly appreciated!
Early detection saves lives. It really is that simple.
A little further about the high school friend. Long-time readers already know the story. Tee was like a sister to me in those days. But our early adult lives veered in different directions -- she was a wife and stay-at-home mom, while I was "career girl" (such as it was). We started only keeping in touch if we ran into each other (or ran into the parents) in the grocery store or Wal-Mart.
When I heard she'd been diagnosed, I was floored. And I had no idea how to approach her or all those years we'd gone without being part of each others' lives. So I took the chicken approach -- I did nothing. No flowers, no card, no nothing. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
I prayed -- I prayed for her. I put her name in our prayer book at church. I thought of her often. But it wasn't enough. Tee passed away just a few weeks short of turning 37. She left behind two teenage kids and a husband, plus parents who were now burying yet another child (her brother had died a few years earlier).
I was angry -- mostly at myself, but I was also truly angry at cancer. I hate cancer of all kinds to begin with, but having the family connections to the disease really make me hate breast cancer. This made me want to do something about it. I could never bring my friend back, and it's hard for me to forgive myself for not doing more when she was alive. I have to do what I can now.
This is my 2nd year to take part in the Upstate SC Race for the Cure. Last year, my walk time in the 5K was 1:06:34. I intend this year to come in at under an hour. And for the 2nd year, I'm the team captain for our corporate team. And I am on the race committee as "Sleep-In For The Cure" coordinator.
If you are so inclined, I would love to have you assist me with a donation. You can do it online by going to my RFTC fundraising page; you will receive an e-mail confirmation and tax receipt immediately. No amount is too small -- I promise -- and every dollar is greatly appreciated!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Departing from my usual MO....
I'm not the type to wear my faith on my sleeve. For me, it's intensely personal and private -- even though I strongly believe in the value of a faith community. But I was stricken tonight by the number of prayer needs that friends of mine have posted on various messageboards, mostly prayers for healing. I was absolutely dumbfounded by the magnitude of the medical needs -- people fighting cancer, a little girl who lives with a rare form of epilepsy, someone whose brother is receiving a transplant (and the family who so graciously gave the gift of life in the midst of death), someone else whose relative was in an awful car accident ..... the list goes on.
I think no matter what our professed faith is, the need to tap into some power beyond our own is important. And I am humbled and awed by the sense of my prayers reaching into God's ears and into His merciful sacred heart. So for all those who have asked my prayers, I offer this:
Kind, loving, and merciful God, I come before you tonight -- thankful for the many gifts and blessings you have bestowed. I come to you, source of all that is good, seeking special favors for those I love -- and for those near and dear to their hearts.
So many are battling life-threatening medical issues; please heal them, and hold their families up through these difficult moments. Grant them a special measure of grace, strength in trials, and a heart full of gratitude.
So many are in need of other miracles; please provide all their needs, and if it be your will, maybe a couple of the small wants.
So many are overwhelmed by the burdens of life; grant them peace of mind and strength of spirit to handle what they can, and the grace of surrendering the rest to you.
So many are without even the basic necessities which I so easily take for granted; provide them with food, clothing, warm and dry shelter, a living wage, companionship, and strength for each day's labor.
I pray that you comfort the afflicted, tenderly receive the dying, open our hearts to the wonder of life, and help us all to thank and praise you for every gift you send our way.
In Christ's name, amen.
I think no matter what our professed faith is, the need to tap into some power beyond our own is important. And I am humbled and awed by the sense of my prayers reaching into God's ears and into His merciful sacred heart. So for all those who have asked my prayers, I offer this:
Kind, loving, and merciful God, I come before you tonight -- thankful for the many gifts and blessings you have bestowed. I come to you, source of all that is good, seeking special favors for those I love -- and for those near and dear to their hearts.
So many are battling life-threatening medical issues; please heal them, and hold their families up through these difficult moments. Grant them a special measure of grace, strength in trials, and a heart full of gratitude.
So many are in need of other miracles; please provide all their needs, and if it be your will, maybe a couple of the small wants.
So many are overwhelmed by the burdens of life; grant them peace of mind and strength of spirit to handle what they can, and the grace of surrendering the rest to you.
So many are without even the basic necessities which I so easily take for granted; provide them with food, clothing, warm and dry shelter, a living wage, companionship, and strength for each day's labor.
I pray that you comfort the afflicted, tenderly receive the dying, open our hearts to the wonder of life, and help us all to thank and praise you for every gift you send our way.
In Christ's name, amen.
Friday, May 16, 2008
I am alive.
I have just been snowed under the last few days. Enough so that I've sworn I need a wife more than a husband. I need someone to just come in and organize my life and my space and my head to be able to do everything more easily and more clearly.
But, I guess I'd have to do that myself anyway -- develop a system I can live with.
Back to me. Ugh.
But, I guess I'd have to do that myself anyway -- develop a system I can live with.
Back to me. Ugh.
Monday, May 05, 2008
A very happy anniversary!
This past Saturday marked one year since Maddox came bounding into our lives. And for the life of me, I cannot imagine (nor do I want to) life without him. It had been nearly 20 years since I'd owned a pet. I'm older and wiser than I was then, and smarter about what to do. And of course, it's always trial and error.
It's been an interesting year -- obedience training and retraining (and occasionally re-retraining!). Stomach upsets, e. coli, and hypothyroidism. But much love, sweet kissies, and the occasional walking injury, usually caused by the hot pursuit of a squirrel.
I wouldn't trade this year for anything!
I love you, buddy!
It's been an interesting year -- obedience training and retraining (and occasionally re-retraining!). Stomach upsets, e. coli, and hypothyroidism. But much love, sweet kissies, and the occasional walking injury, usually caused by the hot pursuit of a squirrel.
I wouldn't trade this year for anything!
I love you, buddy!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Just for Stoney.....
Tonight, there's gonna be a jailbreak
Somewhere in this town.....
Okay, that part was for Stoney. :-D
Yep, we had a prison break right in my very own house.
Prisoner #060106, a/k/a Maddox the Mad Mutt, sneaked out as an older female warden was rolling the garbage bin back into the exercise yard. Luckily the youngest warden of the clan was there to assist.
The prisoner made it no further than a block and a half up the street, at which point, Young Warden yelled out, "Dammit Maddox, get over here. Come here! HERE! HERE!" Maddox, sensing his doom,caved in returned to the guard, who was able to collar him (literally) and return him to his rather spacious cell. I have since learned that he yelled it so loudly that a neighbor a block away heard him. He said Maddox sort of looked at him like, "Oh. OH! You are being serious, huh? Okay....." and then came back.
Fred the Dachshund is said to be baking him a cake with a file. And rumor has it that Maia the Husky was giving him breakout tips over a purloined cell phone. Fred, thanks for the cake, but Big Mama is confiscating the file.... and her phone!!!
Somewhere in this town.....
Okay, that part was for Stoney. :-D
Yep, we had a prison break right in my very own house.
Prisoner #060106, a/k/a Maddox the Mad Mutt, sneaked out as an older female warden was rolling the garbage bin back into the exercise yard. Luckily the youngest warden of the clan was there to assist.
The prisoner made it no further than a block and a half up the street, at which point, Young Warden yelled out, "Dammit Maddox, get over here. Come here! HERE! HERE!" Maddox, sensing his doom,
Fred the Dachshund is said to be baking him a cake with a file. And rumor has it that Maia the Husky was giving him breakout tips over a purloined cell phone. Fred, thanks for the cake, but Big Mama is confiscating the file.... and her phone!!!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Well, plans have changed.
I had planned to participate in this year's "Liberty Idol." Auditions began last weekend, and continue through the first Saturday in May. I had last weekend (and I just forgot it), this weekend, and that weekend in May (out of town next weekend).
But ya know..... I'm just not feeling it. I have a few songs in mind, but I'm honestly not feeling the pull to it like I was a few weeks ago. Maybe it's just realizing that I have other things to do on the weekends, or just wanting to devote energies elsewhere this summer. I'm honestly not enthused enough to want it this year.
So best of luck to all the contestants! Maybe see ya next year!
But ya know..... I'm just not feeling it. I have a few songs in mind, but I'm honestly not feeling the pull to it like I was a few weeks ago. Maybe it's just realizing that I have other things to do on the weekends, or just wanting to devote energies elsewhere this summer. I'm honestly not enthused enough to want it this year.
So best of luck to all the contestants! Maybe see ya next year!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
A wonderful opportunity!
Earlier this week, the local affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure called me, inquiring if I would be interested in joining the Race Committee. Sure, why not, I thought, and signed up to be at tonight's kickoff meeting.
It has been a very long time since I have volunteered in any capacity outside of my church. I was so involved with community service in high school and college, and couldn't imagine not doing something like that as an adult. I mean, for criminy's sake, I was a member of a service fraternity in college!!!! But soon work, life, stress, you name it -- it all came along and suddenly there was no time for my community. My church got my volunteer energy -- not that there's anything wrong with that, but the community at large could have used me too.
One of my resolutions was to do some community service again, but I was thinking of volunteering at the animal shelter once a month or something like that. So finally the time has come. It's a good opportunity to help, and it's certainly a cause about which I am passionate.
I was thinking this was going to be something like a "volunteer opportunity fair" -- you know, go in, see what volunteer ideas are available, go in and sign up for 2 or 3 little things ..... you know, like helping on team registration day. Or "hey, I'll help with promotions!"
Oh no. Oh no. This was a meeting for people who are going to be COORDINATORS and CHAIRPEOPLE. So guess what? I signed up to be "Sleep In For The Cure" coordinator. I will help promote this event (for people who want to contribute and get some tangible item but who have NO intention of getting up that early to actually walk or run!), buy the prizes, etc.
I'm actually kind of psyched about this whole thing. It's not only about time I stepped back into volunteering, it's time I got out and networked again. I haven't done much of that since I left ol' FD nearly 14 years ago. I'm looking forward to what I can do to help the cause along!
It has been a very long time since I have volunteered in any capacity outside of my church. I was so involved with community service in high school and college, and couldn't imagine not doing something like that as an adult. I mean, for criminy's sake, I was a member of a service fraternity in college!!!! But soon work, life, stress, you name it -- it all came along and suddenly there was no time for my community. My church got my volunteer energy -- not that there's anything wrong with that, but the community at large could have used me too.
One of my resolutions was to do some community service again, but I was thinking of volunteering at the animal shelter once a month or something like that. So finally the time has come. It's a good opportunity to help, and it's certainly a cause about which I am passionate.
I was thinking this was going to be something like a "volunteer opportunity fair" -- you know, go in, see what volunteer ideas are available, go in and sign up for 2 or 3 little things ..... you know, like helping on team registration day. Or "hey, I'll help with promotions!"
Oh no. Oh no. This was a meeting for people who are going to be COORDINATORS and CHAIRPEOPLE. So guess what? I signed up to be "Sleep In For The Cure" coordinator. I will help promote this event (for people who want to contribute and get some tangible item but who have NO intention of getting up that early to actually walk or run!), buy the prizes, etc.
I'm actually kind of psyched about this whole thing. It's not only about time I stepped back into volunteering, it's time I got out and networked again. I haven't done much of that since I left ol' FD nearly 14 years ago. I'm looking forward to what I can do to help the cause along!
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Stop! Idol Time....
Quick note: the fingers are much better. The pinky still hurts under running water, and is a bit tender, but so far no blistering. AHHHH!!!
It's time again for "Liberty Idol," our hometown singing competition. I am planning to go for it this year. In an earlier blogpost about Dan Fogelberg's death, I mentioned that I wanted to audition to "Hard to Say," but I'm thinking a different song. I've been leaning all this week to "I Feel The Earth Move" (Carole King). No matter what happens, I'm going to try and go as old-school as I can and as often as possible!
We'll see what happens!
It's time again for "Liberty Idol," our hometown singing competition. I am planning to go for it this year. In an earlier blogpost about Dan Fogelberg's death, I mentioned that I wanted to audition to "Hard to Say," but I'm thinking a different song. I've been leaning all this week to "I Feel The Earth Move" (Carole King). No matter what happens, I'm going to try and go as old-school as I can and as often as possible!
We'll see what happens!
Sunday, April 06, 2008
A quick kitchen-related PSA and medical rant.
Never ever lift off a Saran Wrap plastic cover with your dominant hand and pull in the opposite direction (e.g., with your right hand and pulling right-to-left).
Signed,
The Girl with 3 Steam-Burned Fingers Which Are Hurting Like A Mofo
Yes, dear friends, I was stupid enough to do that this early afternoon. I was heating a bag of frozen veggies in the microwave, when I went to do a quick stir. It all happened in maybe 2 seconds, but I knew from the first one that it wasn't going to be good.
By the time I walked Maddox a little later, the pain wasn't any better and the inflammation hadn't lessened. That was having sprayed it with Bactine and put some Noxzema on it. So I stopped at CVS on the walk and got this gel stuff with lidocaine, just for burns. I also got some tubular gauze, which is now wrapped around my fingers, and covered in medical tape. There are also these little rubber gizmos to put on my fingers for handwashing or showering. Little finger condoms (for real!).
So why didn't I haul myself in for medical care? Lack of urgent care facilities in our county -- plain and simple. On our insurance plan, the co-pay for an office visit and urgent care is the same ($20). The co-pay for the ER is six times that cost and a little more ($125). No way am I spending that much for a co-pay, but I also wasn't going to drive to Greenville just for urgent care. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Urgent care for my county: what a concept that would be.
EDIT: Well. I just found out there's an urgent care facility in Clemson. Had I known that four hours ago, my happy butt would have gone!!! Making a note for the future.....
Signed,
The Girl with 3 Steam-Burned Fingers Which Are Hurting Like A Mofo
Yes, dear friends, I was stupid enough to do that this early afternoon. I was heating a bag of frozen veggies in the microwave, when I went to do a quick stir. It all happened in maybe 2 seconds, but I knew from the first one that it wasn't going to be good.
By the time I walked Maddox a little later, the pain wasn't any better and the inflammation hadn't lessened. That was having sprayed it with Bactine and put some Noxzema on it. So I stopped at CVS on the walk and got this gel stuff with lidocaine, just for burns. I also got some tubular gauze, which is now wrapped around my fingers, and covered in medical tape. There are also these little rubber gizmos to put on my fingers for handwashing or showering. Little finger condoms (for real!).
So why didn't I haul myself in for medical care? Lack of urgent care facilities in our county -- plain and simple. On our insurance plan, the co-pay for an office visit and urgent care is the same ($20). The co-pay for the ER is six times that cost and a little more ($125). No way am I spending that much for a co-pay, but I also wasn't going to drive to Greenville just for urgent care. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Urgent care for my county: what a concept that would be.
EDIT: Well. I just found out there's an urgent care facility in Clemson. Had I known that four hours ago, my happy butt would have gone!!! Making a note for the future.....
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Another busy weekend, a/k/a five hours to kill.....
Isn't it amazing that our weekends -- the time we are supposed to relax from the toils of work and do nearly nothing -- have become the times that we run all our errands that we can't fit in during the workweek? I'm no exception.......
Yesterday was beautiful -- nice and warm, a pretty spring day. I knew today was going to be a little different. What started as a cool, partly sunny morning quickly becoming cloudy and blustery. Later, it devolved into downright chilly and rainy. Now, I will not complain about the rain. We were in desperate need of it all last year, and it did not come. So it can rain all it wishes this spring.
The problem with today? I'd already made an appointment for Maddox to be groomed. He hadn't been trimmed since November, and believe me, my boy was shaggy!!! He really needed the bath and the pampering, so I took him to the pet store. The groomers told me that with the larger dogs, it would be around 5 hours. YIKES! I was thinking maybe 4 hours tops. So there I was. I had the option of going back home (30 minutes away), or fooling around and trying hard not to spend too much money.
Of course, I went shopping -- DUH! I hit Big Lots, which I hadn't been to in ages. They had all their summer goods out, and I swear, if I'd had a little more fundage, OH! I would have bought them out of stuff in the Tiki aisle. You just don't know how much I love beach/island/Tiki/luau themes. As it was, I got one item as an addition to a gift I recently purchased.
I wandered over a bit further to the grocery aisles. I found some spices that I wanted, at a very good price. For everyday average cooking, I admit that I am not terribly snobby about spices. For special dishes, it's a different story -- or if there's a particular herb or spice I need. But for the basics (garlic powder, meat tenderizer, ginger, cinnamon, etc.) then I would be stupid to pay $2.50 for the same thing when I could pay $1.00. I also discovered something highly unusual there -- NutriSystem food. What the holy heck is that? Well, I know they've recently revamped their program as "NutriSystem Advanced 2008." All this stuff was still well within the expiration date (the earliest I saw was this summer), but I guess since it's no longer part of the new program, they let it go to Big Lots. I didn't buy any -- but it was just odd to see it there. Very odd.
I wandered over a little further -- and found something even odder: double-DVD sets of Lifetime movies! My mother loves those things; I enjoy them only in an MST3K sort of way, as pure camp. Even as much as I would love to have been able to poke fun at them, I wasn't going to spend money on them.
After leaving Big Lots, I found a place called "Giant Book Sale" -- another complete weakness of mine. These are pretty heavily discounted, and mostly hardcover. After perusing the store for about 45 minutes, I walked out with just two books: "The Why Cafe" (it looked interesting), and a "Trim & Terrific" cookbook. That one was the especially sweet find: the nutrition information provided will help me with Points, and has diabetic exchanges (what my mother's nutrition plan is based on). And even though it seems I have a thousand cookbooks, recipes, etc. that I never use (it's the truth), this one appealed because of the variety of veggie recipes. I need ways to make veggies a little differently and a little more appealing.
After leaving the bookstore, I had a quick lunch, and back into the pouring cold rain, with two hours left until Maddox would be ready. Oh boy...... So I went into TJ Maxx. The last time I was at the one across town from this one, I was disappointed. I was here too, at least as far as clothing. But I don't really need any for a while anyway. People have been more than generous to me with clothes, and I've picked up a few more staple pieces recently. I'm good to go for a while. The purses --- DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!! Now, I am not a purse ho per se. I definitely don't gravitate toward the high-end bags and save my money for them. But I do like a well-constructed bag, with a name I recognize, and for a decent price. But I have enough purses for a while, and I'm good with them.
I also looked at luggage while I was there. For about 10 years, I have used my little 21" weekender. It has served incredibly well, and is just as sturdy as ever -- okay, the expandable handle part came out years ago, but other than that. However, the time has come for a new suitcase -- and I'm thinking one between 24"-26". The 28" and up almost seem too large. The prices were okay, but I will check a couple of other places -- including Tarjay and Le Wally. I don't need a "designer" bag -- just one that is well-constructed and will last for years to come. Believe me, I don't care how well known the names are on some of those luggage pieces, I will be damned if I pay some of those prices! I ended up buying only a book that was on clearance (yes, another book), and that was just sort of to thank them for allowing me to waste some time in there.
While I was in there, I came this-close to calling my friend Stacey to see what was wrong with me; I was in the shoe section, and was going to call her to talk me out of buying a pair of shoes. Now, I am not much of a shoe hound (clothes are another story entirely!), but I've bought four pairs in the last week, all dress shoes. I needed an intervention. However, I was afraid Stacey would come over with the girl-card police and they would revoke my card!!! As it was, I talked myself out of the shoes. I don't care that they were CUTE pink Keds slip-ons. And only $10. I just wasn't feeling them.
It was about 40 minutes to go when I left TJ Maxx, and went down to Goody's (passing a shoe store -- can you believe it?). This particular Goody's and one other in town is serving as a "clearance center." Apparently, according to the signs, everything must go to the bare walls!!!! NOW!!! Believe me, I have hit their stores quite often in the last couple of weeks. I got some sweet deals there last week -- 3 pants, 3 "schweaters" (sweaters with the faux blouses underneath), a cute A-line skirt, a pair of shorts, and a straw tote all for about $70 (most was on clearance, but darn that one pair of pants for $20! Wink wink). Well, anyway, as I was walking up there, I realized it was getting even colder -- and all I had on was my spring sweater. So I went to see if they had a jacket.
A few days ago, I noticed they had "athletic sets" on sale. The jackets I love, but I do not want the pants. I'm sorry but there's no way in hell I am going to wear pants made of parachute-like material, and start a fire by my thighs rubbing together. Lucky for me, I found ONE solo jacket with no pants, and in a pretty light kiwi-green color. YAHOO! I can wear it with the yoga pants I already have, or a nice pair of shorts on a cooler summer or fall day. And with the clearance discount -- just under $6.
Then it was time to get in line to pay. Sweet Fancy Moses, everybody and their damn brother was in line, and they only had every other register open. There were people with buggies full of things. The people in front of me -- $115 dollars, and they walked out with BAGS of stuff. But while I was in line, the groomers rang, and Buddy Boy was done (right at the 5-hour mark!). Once I paid and got the hell out of there, I picked him up and he looked absolutely adorable (and about 10 pounds thinner)! Just in time, too -- the rain started in again.
And next Saturday, it's another busy morning on tap: vet visit for Maddox, church directory pictures for me, and God knows what else........ Some Saturday soon, I fully intend to do absolutely nothing of any import. Won't that be odd?
Yesterday was beautiful -- nice and warm, a pretty spring day. I knew today was going to be a little different. What started as a cool, partly sunny morning quickly becoming cloudy and blustery. Later, it devolved into downright chilly and rainy. Now, I will not complain about the rain. We were in desperate need of it all last year, and it did not come. So it can rain all it wishes this spring.
The problem with today? I'd already made an appointment for Maddox to be groomed. He hadn't been trimmed since November, and believe me, my boy was shaggy!!! He really needed the bath and the pampering, so I took him to the pet store. The groomers told me that with the larger dogs, it would be around 5 hours. YIKES! I was thinking maybe 4 hours tops. So there I was. I had the option of going back home (30 minutes away), or fooling around and trying hard not to spend too much money.
Of course, I went shopping -- DUH! I hit Big Lots, which I hadn't been to in ages. They had all their summer goods out, and I swear, if I'd had a little more fundage, OH! I would have bought them out of stuff in the Tiki aisle. You just don't know how much I love beach/island/Tiki/luau themes. As it was, I got one item as an addition to a gift I recently purchased.
I wandered over a bit further to the grocery aisles. I found some spices that I wanted, at a very good price. For everyday average cooking, I admit that I am not terribly snobby about spices. For special dishes, it's a different story -- or if there's a particular herb or spice I need. But for the basics (garlic powder, meat tenderizer, ginger, cinnamon, etc.) then I would be stupid to pay $2.50 for the same thing when I could pay $1.00. I also discovered something highly unusual there -- NutriSystem food. What the holy heck is that? Well, I know they've recently revamped their program as "NutriSystem Advanced 2008." All this stuff was still well within the expiration date (the earliest I saw was this summer), but I guess since it's no longer part of the new program, they let it go to Big Lots. I didn't buy any -- but it was just odd to see it there. Very odd.
I wandered over a little further -- and found something even odder: double-DVD sets of Lifetime movies! My mother loves those things; I enjoy them only in an MST3K sort of way, as pure camp. Even as much as I would love to have been able to poke fun at them, I wasn't going to spend money on them.
After leaving Big Lots, I found a place called "Giant Book Sale" -- another complete weakness of mine. These are pretty heavily discounted, and mostly hardcover. After perusing the store for about 45 minutes, I walked out with just two books: "The Why Cafe" (it looked interesting), and a "Trim & Terrific" cookbook. That one was the especially sweet find: the nutrition information provided will help me with Points, and has diabetic exchanges (what my mother's nutrition plan is based on). And even though it seems I have a thousand cookbooks, recipes, etc. that I never use (it's the truth), this one appealed because of the variety of veggie recipes. I need ways to make veggies a little differently and a little more appealing.
After leaving the bookstore, I had a quick lunch, and back into the pouring cold rain, with two hours left until Maddox would be ready. Oh boy...... So I went into TJ Maxx. The last time I was at the one across town from this one, I was disappointed. I was here too, at least as far as clothing. But I don't really need any for a while anyway. People have been more than generous to me with clothes, and I've picked up a few more staple pieces recently. I'm good to go for a while. The purses --- DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!! Now, I am not a purse ho per se. I definitely don't gravitate toward the high-end bags and save my money for them. But I do like a well-constructed bag, with a name I recognize, and for a decent price. But I have enough purses for a while, and I'm good with them.
I also looked at luggage while I was there. For about 10 years, I have used my little 21" weekender. It has served incredibly well, and is just as sturdy as ever -- okay, the expandable handle part came out years ago, but other than that. However, the time has come for a new suitcase -- and I'm thinking one between 24"-26". The 28" and up almost seem too large. The prices were okay, but I will check a couple of other places -- including Tarjay and Le Wally. I don't need a "designer" bag -- just one that is well-constructed and will last for years to come. Believe me, I don't care how well known the names are on some of those luggage pieces, I will be damned if I pay some of those prices! I ended up buying only a book that was on clearance (yes, another book), and that was just sort of to thank them for allowing me to waste some time in there.
While I was in there, I came this-close to calling my friend Stacey to see what was wrong with me; I was in the shoe section, and was going to call her to talk me out of buying a pair of shoes. Now, I am not much of a shoe hound (clothes are another story entirely!), but I've bought four pairs in the last week, all dress shoes. I needed an intervention. However, I was afraid Stacey would come over with the girl-card police and they would revoke my card!!! As it was, I talked myself out of the shoes. I don't care that they were CUTE pink Keds slip-ons. And only $10. I just wasn't feeling them.
It was about 40 minutes to go when I left TJ Maxx, and went down to Goody's (passing a shoe store -- can you believe it?). This particular Goody's and one other in town is serving as a "clearance center." Apparently, according to the signs, everything must go to the bare walls!!!! NOW!!! Believe me, I have hit their stores quite often in the last couple of weeks. I got some sweet deals there last week -- 3 pants, 3 "schweaters" (sweaters with the faux blouses underneath), a cute A-line skirt, a pair of shorts, and a straw tote all for about $70 (most was on clearance, but darn that one pair of pants for $20! Wink wink). Well, anyway, as I was walking up there, I realized it was getting even colder -- and all I had on was my spring sweater. So I went to see if they had a jacket.
A few days ago, I noticed they had "athletic sets" on sale. The jackets I love, but I do not want the pants. I'm sorry but there's no way in hell I am going to wear pants made of parachute-like material, and start a fire by my thighs rubbing together. Lucky for me, I found ONE solo jacket with no pants, and in a pretty light kiwi-green color. YAHOO! I can wear it with the yoga pants I already have, or a nice pair of shorts on a cooler summer or fall day. And with the clearance discount -- just under $6.
Then it was time to get in line to pay. Sweet Fancy Moses, everybody and their damn brother was in line, and they only had every other register open. There were people with buggies full of things. The people in front of me -- $115 dollars, and they walked out with BAGS of stuff. But while I was in line, the groomers rang, and Buddy Boy was done (right at the 5-hour mark!). Once I paid and got the hell out of there, I picked him up and he looked absolutely adorable (and about 10 pounds thinner)! Just in time, too -- the rain started in again.
And next Saturday, it's another busy morning on tap: vet visit for Maddox, church directory pictures for me, and God knows what else........ Some Saturday soon, I fully intend to do absolutely nothing of any import. Won't that be odd?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I am still here, I promise...
It's just nothing has gone on that merits a blog post here at good ol' M&M. Okay, maybe a few things but nothing I want to put on a blog that everybody and their brother can read!
I'm alive. I'm happy. And all is well, mostly. Not boring, but just ordinary.
I'm alive. I'm happy. And all is well, mostly. Not boring, but just ordinary.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
All quiet on the southern front
There really hasn't been enough going on right now to post anything. But I haven't died. Promise.
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