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Grief is a big bitchy ball right now
Sep. 26th, 2022 08:53 amWe all familiar with Lauren Herschel's ball in a box explanation of grief? No? Go read, I'll wait.
( CW: pet death )
( CW: pet death )
Oh god I'm starting to become one of those people that never posts here anymore. Not good. Especially given my state of mind lately (not bloody good) you would think I'd be translating the mental ick into words. But I haven't been, which may be a little bit of the reason I've been pretty fucked up lately.
It's only a little bit of the reason though. This winter has just been... dark for me, for various reasons. I mean, I've survived worse, but I'm wearying of this ongoing depressive cycle, especially as it looks like it's just going to wear itself on into month #3. Hooray. But seriously, my silence online almost directly corresponds to my silence in other aspects as well - I've hermited up good. Hanging out and watching Movie 43 (which was TERRIBLE btw, don't waste your time) with folks Saturday evening was probably the most social I've been since... yeah. *sigh* Oh there have been good bits of course, but they're quite quickly absorbed into the ick.
I know a good part of this is me still working through Dad's passing. I went through about a month of being numb, even relieved. Now the hurt is setting in hard. I never expected to miss his monthly or so nagging to call him so much. Really his fussing in general. That old black man snicker he'd do after he'd ask after Drew and I'd reply with "eh, I haven't murdered him yet..." And I've been... afraid? I guess to return to New York and confront the true emptiness of the house. Last time didn't count, it was jam packed with relatives. Now it's just my cousin there with occasional stopovers from Ruthy to make sure things haven't exploded. Hell, even Roy and the dog are gone, since he's moved in with his mom in Indy. I keep saying I'm going to go down and then end up not having the money or the spoons or whatever. But a lot of it is just... dread. And not wanting to deal with New York in winter especially since it's been snowpocalypsing more there than here (and we've been getting hammered) but mostly just dread.
One of the big stressors this month is Moonbeam and the UTI that will not die. He's been on special food for a month and a half now and two courses of antibiotics and this damn thing just will not quit. Much like last time, five days after he finished his antibiotics course he started showing symptoms again and now I'm just at my wits end. I know on some level this is just what happens with an old cat, especially one that hasn't been cared for barely at all and has been eating the worst bargain basement kitty kibble Dad could find on sale. I could go on an extended rant on my family's attitude and treatment of animals, especially cats, but that's just going to work me into a pissed off lather and I don't have the spoons for that. But this has been a drain on my ability to can, and also on my already strapped wallet. I honestly don't know what we're going to do if it turns out we can't lick this thing, or if he ends up needing surgery or something. It breaks my heart because other than this, he's a joy - affectionate and snuggly, purrs like an idling truck and just has these big old green eyes full of all the love ever and the idea of losing him is just... not doing good things for my psyche right now. Its like, no. Not right now. Not so soon after Dad. But it's like what do we do? I was not ready to have to revisit this feeling of complete and utter helplessness in the face of possibly fatal illness again, not this soon. And then there's just this overarching sense of failure - I'm already carrying a buttload of guilt over not being there enough for Dad last year, but now I can't even do right by his damn cat.
So yeah... my state of mind is not so great right now.
Well in ways-to-escape-dealing-with-it news, Boo is progressing despite having to rip him out and start over four or so rows in. I have this bulk spool of black nylon thread that I keep attempting to use lying around and the attempts just end up frustrating failures because it's too thick for the kind of thing I'm doing, since it involves multiple passes through a weensy bead with a thickish needle. (for the craft - it's actually much thinner than a sewing needle). I can't quite bring myself to chuck it though, so I think I'm going to save it for loom stringing, if I ever go back to doing things that way. Hand weaving takes a lot longer but the resupt comes out so much better looking... anyway. Nothing majorly exciting yet - I'll take more pictures when I get down to his actual eyebrows cause right now all I got is the top of his... head? Can Mario ghosts be said to have heads?
So that's me right now. This too will pass, I know it will. I just want it to pass a little sooner rather than later.
It's only a little bit of the reason though. This winter has just been... dark for me, for various reasons. I mean, I've survived worse, but I'm wearying of this ongoing depressive cycle, especially as it looks like it's just going to wear itself on into month #3. Hooray. But seriously, my silence online almost directly corresponds to my silence in other aspects as well - I've hermited up good. Hanging out and watching Movie 43 (which was TERRIBLE btw, don't waste your time) with folks Saturday evening was probably the most social I've been since... yeah. *sigh* Oh there have been good bits of course, but they're quite quickly absorbed into the ick.
I know a good part of this is me still working through Dad's passing. I went through about a month of being numb, even relieved. Now the hurt is setting in hard. I never expected to miss his monthly or so nagging to call him so much. Really his fussing in general. That old black man snicker he'd do after he'd ask after Drew and I'd reply with "eh, I haven't murdered him yet..." And I've been... afraid? I guess to return to New York and confront the true emptiness of the house. Last time didn't count, it was jam packed with relatives. Now it's just my cousin there with occasional stopovers from Ruthy to make sure things haven't exploded. Hell, even Roy and the dog are gone, since he's moved in with his mom in Indy. I keep saying I'm going to go down and then end up not having the money or the spoons or whatever. But a lot of it is just... dread. And not wanting to deal with New York in winter especially since it's been snowpocalypsing more there than here (and we've been getting hammered) but mostly just dread.
One of the big stressors this month is Moonbeam and the UTI that will not die. He's been on special food for a month and a half now and two courses of antibiotics and this damn thing just will not quit. Much like last time, five days after he finished his antibiotics course he started showing symptoms again and now I'm just at my wits end. I know on some level this is just what happens with an old cat, especially one that hasn't been cared for barely at all and has been eating the worst bargain basement kitty kibble Dad could find on sale. I could go on an extended rant on my family's attitude and treatment of animals, especially cats, but that's just going to work me into a pissed off lather and I don't have the spoons for that. But this has been a drain on my ability to can, and also on my already strapped wallet. I honestly don't know what we're going to do if it turns out we can't lick this thing, or if he ends up needing surgery or something. It breaks my heart because other than this, he's a joy - affectionate and snuggly, purrs like an idling truck and just has these big old green eyes full of all the love ever and the idea of losing him is just... not doing good things for my psyche right now. Its like, no. Not right now. Not so soon after Dad. But it's like what do we do? I was not ready to have to revisit this feeling of complete and utter helplessness in the face of possibly fatal illness again, not this soon. And then there's just this overarching sense of failure - I'm already carrying a buttload of guilt over not being there enough for Dad last year, but now I can't even do right by his damn cat.
So yeah... my state of mind is not so great right now.
Well in ways-to-escape-dealing-with-it news, Boo is progressing despite having to rip him out and start over four or so rows in. I have this bulk spool of black nylon thread that I keep attempting to use lying around and the attempts just end up frustrating failures because it's too thick for the kind of thing I'm doing, since it involves multiple passes through a weensy bead with a thickish needle. (for the craft - it's actually much thinner than a sewing needle). I can't quite bring myself to chuck it though, so I think I'm going to save it for loom stringing, if I ever go back to doing things that way. Hand weaving takes a lot longer but the resupt comes out so much better looking... anyway. Nothing majorly exciting yet - I'll take more pictures when I get down to his actual eyebrows cause right now all I got is the top of his... head? Can Mario ghosts be said to have heads?
So that's me right now. This too will pass, I know it will. I just want it to pass a little sooner rather than later.
Took Moonbeam to the vet today to get those UTI symptoms looked at. Thankfully it is just a UTI. I came home laden with medicine and diet kitty food.
Also confirmed: Remember how I used to call Moonbeam the Cat of Indeterminate Gender? I'm not sure when in the past few years we all collectively defaulted to thinking of/referring to her as female, but lol, we apparently have an old Grandpa cat instead of an old Grandma cat. I am reminded of Grosse Pointe Blank in between giggling and shaking my head at this:
- So, is there a Mrs. Mysterio?
- No, but I do have a very nice cat.
- Not the same.
- Well, you don't know my cat, it's very demanding.
- It? You don't know if it's a boy or girl?
- I respect its privacy.
I need to watch that movie again, especially since thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
renegadethumper, I now own it.
But seriously I am massively relieved that this is easily treatable and isn't something horribly serious. This morning as I was hanging out near the bathroom with her (him?) snuggling me, I looked down into the big Beamy eyes and thought about how I was not ready to lose this cat, especially so soon after losing Dad. In some weird way, it feels like Moonbeam is the last sort of living vestige of Dad I've got left. Needless to say, this thought turned me into a horrid sobbing mess, and bless hir little kitty cat heart, Moonbeam got worried, crawled into my lap and purred loudly at me until I got my shit together, which of course made me feel like an ass considering it's hir that's not doing so great right now.
But um yeah. Gender-fluid kitty is watching you... well you know.
Also confirmed: Remember how I used to call Moonbeam the Cat of Indeterminate Gender? I'm not sure when in the past few years we all collectively defaulted to thinking of/referring to her as female, but lol, we apparently have an old Grandpa cat instead of an old Grandma cat. I am reminded of Grosse Pointe Blank in between giggling and shaking my head at this:
- So, is there a Mrs. Mysterio?
- No, but I do have a very nice cat.
- Not the same.
- Well, you don't know my cat, it's very demanding.
- It? You don't know if it's a boy or girl?
- I respect its privacy.
I need to watch that movie again, especially since thanks to
renegadethumper, I now own it.But seriously I am massively relieved that this is easily treatable and isn't something horribly serious. This morning as I was hanging out near the bathroom with her (him?) snuggling me, I looked down into the big Beamy eyes and thought about how I was not ready to lose this cat, especially so soon after losing Dad. In some weird way, it feels like Moonbeam is the last sort of living vestige of Dad I've got left. Needless to say, this thought turned me into a horrid sobbing mess, and bless hir little kitty cat heart, Moonbeam got worried, crawled into my lap and purred loudly at me until I got my shit together, which of course made me feel like an ass considering it's hir that's not doing so great right now.
But um yeah. Gender-fluid kitty is watching you... well you know.
Today was just full of runaround stupid and I'm really starting to fucking hate Wednesdays.
I had two doctor appointments today. Ugh. Remind me never to do that again. In fact, I'ma go through my calendar and make sure all my damn doctor appointments are spaced at least two weeks apart because UGH. But anyway. This morning was a follow up with Dr Kate about last week's drama (and to dig the stictch from the biopsy out of my elbow because ITCHY). Turns out the lab lost my tissue sample so I have been admonished to come back in the office the second it flares up again and maybe I get a small chunk taken out of a different part of me, huzzah.
At least I have the go-ahead to start weaning off the prednisone, yay.
Doctor #2 in the afternoon was going to my GI for my check in, which I kept because I had put it off a couple times before and I wanted to discuss the rash with him. I was apparently tested for sarcoid before and came up negative (guess I'd brought it up before) so between than and the lost biopsy rash remains a mystery. Game plan for now is to get off the steroid and back onto a regular schedule with my other meds and check back in in 3 months, or before if rash=yes.
I also had to sit and go through my huge file of gastrointestinal fuckery with him because they're transitioning over to digital records and some of my files weren't jiving with other ones. (Turns out a years worth were not, in fact missing, but refiled because I apparently became a different person once I got married. Whut.) While doing this several photographs of my small bowel the night before it exploded cropped up... scary shit I never want to see again.
I had just enough time to scratch kitties and pee before heading back out to bells.... and then home to what would have been a nice evening with the husband anddeliriumdeva except Moonbeam peed outside the litterbox in a corner of the kitchen and it was pink. Because great, the last thing I needed at the end of my day was elderly cat UTI. Calling the vet first thing tomorrow, and meanwhile kicking myself for forgetting to put down water for them this morning, and having a good old grump about some folk back home and their unwillingness to take care of cats properly.
After all that the fact I got even one row done of beading seems heroic.
4420 / 25840 beads. 17.105% done!
There were nice things about today too. Bells was good and I like our holiday piece. Drew unexpectedly met me in town for lunch off the Amherst halal cart which was soooooooooooooooooo good. I spent much of my day working remotely from the Jones Library, which was lovely. And I continued to unravel bits of code and put it together better today, so it wasn't all a wash. And now I'm going to have a nice shower and maybe watch American Horror Story before bed.
Here's hoping tomorrow is a bit better.
I had two doctor appointments today. Ugh. Remind me never to do that again. In fact, I'ma go through my calendar and make sure all my damn doctor appointments are spaced at least two weeks apart because UGH. But anyway. This morning was a follow up with Dr Kate about last week's drama (and to dig the stictch from the biopsy out of my elbow because ITCHY). Turns out the lab lost my tissue sample so I have been admonished to come back in the office the second it flares up again and maybe I get a small chunk taken out of a different part of me, huzzah.
At least I have the go-ahead to start weaning off the prednisone, yay.
Doctor #2 in the afternoon was going to my GI for my check in, which I kept because I had put it off a couple times before and I wanted to discuss the rash with him. I was apparently tested for sarcoid before and came up negative (guess I'd brought it up before) so between than and the lost biopsy rash remains a mystery. Game plan for now is to get off the steroid and back onto a regular schedule with my other meds and check back in in 3 months, or before if rash=yes.
I also had to sit and go through my huge file of gastrointestinal fuckery with him because they're transitioning over to digital records and some of my files weren't jiving with other ones. (Turns out a years worth were not, in fact missing, but refiled because I apparently became a different person once I got married. Whut.) While doing this several photographs of my small bowel the night before it exploded cropped up... scary shit I never want to see again.
I had just enough time to scratch kitties and pee before heading back out to bells.... and then home to what would have been a nice evening with the husband and
deliriumdeva except Moonbeam peed outside the litterbox in a corner of the kitchen and it was pink. Because great, the last thing I needed at the end of my day was elderly cat UTI. Calling the vet first thing tomorrow, and meanwhile kicking myself for forgetting to put down water for them this morning, and having a good old grump about some folk back home and their unwillingness to take care of cats properly. After all that the fact I got even one row done of beading seems heroic.
There were nice things about today too. Bells was good and I like our holiday piece. Drew unexpectedly met me in town for lunch off the Amherst halal cart which was soooooooooooooooooo good. I spent much of my day working remotely from the Jones Library, which was lovely. And I continued to unravel bits of code and put it together better today, so it wasn't all a wash. And now I'm going to have a nice shower and maybe watch American Horror Story before bed.
Here's hoping tomorrow is a bit better.
Miss me LJ?
Nov. 26th, 2012 09:26 pmOh man, I hate visitng Dad when the interballs is broken. Hence the no posting - while I had Squeee with me, there isn't any point in using him with no connectivity and it's annoying enough keeping up with FB and Twitter on Dad's iThings. I hate borrowing other people's computer type devices.
But yeah, it was a Thanksgiving weekend. Had it's ups, had its downs, had its surprises and moments of pure rage.
Thursday:
Friday:
Saturday:
Sunday:
Monday:
In beading news:
No internet in the house == I BEAD LIKE A FIEND. It's also an excellent thing to do while waiting in line for a bus ticket line that's never going to move, but hey.
It's starting to actually look like something now. And you can almost read the badge on the right.
Still got a loooooong ass way to go though. And there was a copious amount of swearing this morning when I dropped a container of beads on the dining room floor this morning. Le sigh.
And that's my weekend.
But yeah, it was a Thanksgiving weekend. Had it's ups, had its downs, had its surprises and moments of pure rage.
Thursday:
- Rode down with esotericscribe early in the morning, and took the train down from his neighborhood in Queens to The House (had about $25 worth of metrocards with me that had been sitting on my desk all year - glad I remembered them!). Dad didn't bother saying hello upon my arrival, but began fussing at me for breakfast and wedding pictures. Sigh. I made him breakfast after scolding him for being chauvinistic and lazy. I also managed to catch the last half hour of the parade so I didn't have to go into full on twitch mode, but I may well torrent it tonight and watch the whole thing tomorrow morning. Traditions must be kept however they can.
- Dinner with the family was small (half of us were missing) and by contrast quiet and civilized. It was good though. And the FOOD. Dad's housekeeper did 90% of the cooking for us, and wow. That woman can seriously make some collard greens. And turkey. And Ham. And them heathens ate an entire loaf of the pumpkin bread BEFORE we said grace.
- We set the table really pretty too:
Friday:
- Spent an hour on the phone with Verizon about the internet. Hopefully they send a new router this week, because that situation in there is untenable. To me anyway. Dad has cellular service on his iPad and an iPhone so honey badger don't have to care. Bah.
- Ruthy and I had to run some financy type errands for Dad in downtown Brooklyn. In the process I got to briefly reacquant myself with Mom's actual jewelry collection (I have a fair amount of her vintage costume jewelry). Damn Mom. That lady loved herself some jewelry. Ruthy offered to let me pick out one or two things, but honestly, I have no place to really wear any of that stuff, though if I had to pick she did have some rather gorgeous Iranian filigree pieces. Or her charm bracelet - I have pretty strong memories of playing with that as a small child.
- Ruthy also hooked me up with this holiday deliciousness:
Sweet delicious pepparkakor nom nom nom. - After dealing with that pain in the ass, we went to BAM to see Lincoln. I did enjoy the movie, but I have Opinions about it. They may have to wait until a long overdue Media Consumption Post.
- In the spirit of AAAAGH QUIT BORROWING MY PHONE Dad straight up offered to frog march me to AT&T to buy me an iPhone5. After being utterly floored by this offer, I asked him to delay it until January when I have a regular paycheck and can support a data plan. So that's gonna be my Christmas present, which means soon The Precious can finally go quietly into her retirement. I may wipe and jailbreak it and give it to Kidzilla as a music/game player. Also, I CAN GET ME ONE OF THESE SEXY SEXY CASES. Because my wallet is my ipod case and that very badly needs to be retired as well.
- Went to sleep aggressively snuggled by Dad's cat.
Saturday:
- Got up early, went to the store, and got eggs and potatoes for Dad's breakfast. There was one spoiled West Indian afterward.
- Was considering going up to AMNH to visit Alejandra's spider exhibit, but couldn't get a hold of either her nor her mother in time, so instead I went up to the Garment District.
So glad Tohoshoji is still there!Amanda (who got me into beading) and I used to go up here and get bulk bead stuff all the time. They still have decent prices too - not as much markup for a 20g box of delicas either. So now I have all five of my main colors plus a few others in good supply for now. - Watched Star Wars (Episode IV: A New Hope) on Spike. It had been long enough since I'd seen it that watching it again was actually fun. Kinda striking how different Mark Hamill looked between Star Wars and Empire, but car accidents'll jack your face up, alas.
- More kitty sleeps. She snores. And kicks.
Sunday:
- I'm usually tired of being back home after two days, let alone three, so you can imagine I was rearing to get back to MA. Except that didn't happen - I showed up at Port Authority two hours before my bus was to leave expecting some holiday craziness, but not the magnitude of crazy that greeted me there yesterday wherein no tickets were being sold or printed "until further notice" police were trying to control fourteen lines of very annoyed people and apparently none of the buses were leaving on time. I later found out that all carriers had massively oversold almost all of the departures out of new york. I waited for about four or five hours, gave up and went back to brooklyn in a state of massively thwarted anxiety. Note to self - always buy my tickets ahead of time from now on. Seriously I've travelled through Port Authority for many a Thanksgiving weekend for almost 20 years now, I had never seen or experienced anything like the zoo that was yesterday.
- Least dad and the cat were glad to have me around for an extra evening.
- Did laundry and watched horrifyingly bad TV while doing so, including three minutes of Liz and Dick than made me run screaming like I'd seen a moldy sandwich.
Monday:
- Took NO chances and bought a Megabus ticket this morning. Mostly becuase they only require a confirmation number to board and you can wave an iDevice at them with it showing on the screen even. Wasn't risking having to buy OR print a ticket at Port Authority. Fuck all that noise.
- Spoiled Dad with breakfast. Again.
- Rather more successful in making it home this time, and while Manbeast was quite effusively glad to see me, the cats are still being hard to get little fiends. They'll forgive me eventually. I was, after all, cavorting with GASP another cat all weekend without their permission.
- Left my iPad charger in Brooklyn. Dang it.
In beading news:
No internet in the house == I BEAD LIKE A FIEND. It's also an excellent thing to do while waiting in line for a bus ticket line that's never going to move, but hey.
It's starting to actually look like something now. And you can almost read the badge on the right.
Still got a loooooong ass way to go though. And there was a copious amount of swearing this morning when I dropped a container of beads on the dining room floor this morning. Le sigh.
2550 / 25500
(10%)
(10%)
And that's my weekend.
Oh New York. Something special erupts out of you during the holidays that actually truly warms the hard to reach subcockles of my jaded little heart. I think it's gazing up into the face of a 30+ story high rise and counting fourteen visible Christmas trees, seven menorahs, sixteen atrociously lit up windows and nine balconies that have more lights and inflatables on them than entire neighborhoods in Massachusetts. Or maybe it's the inexplicably omnipresent tree stands every four blocks or so because some folks are crazy enough to want to haul a heavy ass genuine Douglas Fir up to a seven story walkup. No, really, I know people do it - you can tell by the garbage piles outside of said walkups the week after New Years. Or the people like our neighbors who manage to stuff lights and creepy motorized Santas in every front window, drape lit garlands from the roof and have a giant bright-ass train festooning their porch every year. (The punchline? They're Jewish.)
Seriously New York during Christmas, man. There are reasons why I'm incredibly happy to be actually home this year for it.
Needless to say I've arrived home safely. Actually the last bit of the journey was made nicer by sharing a subway ride with a Smith student I know from the store who happened to be on my bus down and who needed to get to Coney Island so I told her to ride with me since that's my line. Dad has done his requisite fussing, showing off of his new toys (he's finally replaced his giant ass flatscreen), and I in turn have teased him about catching him coming in the house from a date, impeccably dressed to the nines. The cat has not left me alone since I came in The House and is now curled up on the bed with me purring like an idling tractor trailer. I much prefer this to having a portly kitty trying knead my ass with sharp-ass feet. Ow. Stop loving me with pain. Or if you have to, take me out to dinner first! Sheesh. Also can totally hear the ghost of Mom's Bitching Past up in here because Dad got a real tree for the first time in about 20 years. It's gorgeous, don't get me wrong, but all I can hear in my head is "needles in the carpet" this and "fire hazard" that and "what did that mad fool have to get a real tree for anyway" blah blah blah. Rather than be annoying it's actually kinda making me smile. Dad always did love himself a real Christmas tree. Of course he never actually deals with putting it up or decorating it or taking it down, which is probably why. At least he got a reasonable height one and not a sticky seven or eight foot monstrosity like he used to insist on getting. If you have to get on a freaking ladder to put the angel on top, your tree is too damn tall.
I think Dad is happy to have Christmas at home as well. He's been making noise about restarting the treating the women of the family to brunch and perfume at Saks tradition again, which we haven't done since my second year at Smith because Mom got sick right around then. 'Course, I'm not a perfume or makeup person so I usually spent those trips finding about the least visibly feminine thing on the lobby floor as my treat - one year it was a teddy bear (which I still have) the next, bath gel, the next a cute Captain's hat from the menswear department (also which I still have). Not even gonna lie, I'm already scheming how to spin my girly treat into something else from the neighborhood - the American Girl Place is next door across the street (though after having experienced The Smell Of Pink last month withcell23, I'm a little wary of going in there) and the LEGO store is down the block. Jesus H, that's so me. 33, grown ass woman, and what do I want for Christmas instead of perfume? Toys. Le sigh. Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever gonna grow up. Maybe I should bite the bullet and actually get makeup though. I am getting some kinda married in the spring and after accompanying various folk shopping for glorified face paint for the occasion I should probably take the opportunity to not have to pay for it. And I do like M.A.C. products. Preferred brand of drag queens. Or so I've heard.
Tomorrow Dad is monopolizing my day, but since we're going downtown to the financial district and then to J&R like we used to when I was a kid, I don't mind. I won't ask him to take me to Burger King though. Even if the same one we used to go to all the time is still there. J&R though, uh oh. Taking me to J&R is like giving a small child four double espressos and turning him or her loose in Toys R Us and/or FAO Schwarz. Seriously between the computer/electronics, movies and music departments (both as in recorded music and as in instruments and accessories) that place is a block of nothing but pure retail Andee-crack. NNNNNNNGGGGG.
*sigh* it's gonna be a busy week.
Seriously New York during Christmas, man. There are reasons why I'm incredibly happy to be actually home this year for it.
Needless to say I've arrived home safely. Actually the last bit of the journey was made nicer by sharing a subway ride with a Smith student I know from the store who happened to be on my bus down and who needed to get to Coney Island so I told her to ride with me since that's my line. Dad has done his requisite fussing, showing off of his new toys (he's finally replaced his giant ass flatscreen), and I in turn have teased him about catching him coming in the house from a date, impeccably dressed to the nines. The cat has not left me alone since I came in The House and is now curled up on the bed with me purring like an idling tractor trailer. I much prefer this to having a portly kitty trying knead my ass with sharp-ass feet. Ow. Stop loving me with pain. Or if you have to, take me out to dinner first! Sheesh. Also can totally hear the ghost of Mom's Bitching Past up in here because Dad got a real tree for the first time in about 20 years. It's gorgeous, don't get me wrong, but all I can hear in my head is "needles in the carpet" this and "fire hazard" that and "what did that mad fool have to get a real tree for anyway" blah blah blah. Rather than be annoying it's actually kinda making me smile. Dad always did love himself a real Christmas tree. Of course he never actually deals with putting it up or decorating it or taking it down, which is probably why. At least he got a reasonable height one and not a sticky seven or eight foot monstrosity like he used to insist on getting. If you have to get on a freaking ladder to put the angel on top, your tree is too damn tall.
I think Dad is happy to have Christmas at home as well. He's been making noise about restarting the treating the women of the family to brunch and perfume at Saks tradition again, which we haven't done since my second year at Smith because Mom got sick right around then. 'Course, I'm not a perfume or makeup person so I usually spent those trips finding about the least visibly feminine thing on the lobby floor as my treat - one year it was a teddy bear (which I still have) the next, bath gel, the next a cute Captain's hat from the menswear department (also which I still have). Not even gonna lie, I'm already scheming how to spin my girly treat into something else from the neighborhood - the American Girl Place is next door across the street (though after having experienced The Smell Of Pink last month with
cell23, I'm a little wary of going in there) and the LEGO store is down the block. Jesus H, that's so me. 33, grown ass woman, and what do I want for Christmas instead of perfume? Toys. Le sigh. Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever gonna grow up. Maybe I should bite the bullet and actually get makeup though. I am getting some kinda married in the spring and after accompanying various folk shopping for glorified face paint for the occasion I should probably take the opportunity to not have to pay for it. And I do like M.A.C. products. Preferred brand of drag queens. Or so I've heard.Tomorrow Dad is monopolizing my day, but since we're going downtown to the financial district and then to J&R like we used to when I was a kid, I don't mind. I won't ask him to take me to Burger King though. Even if the same one we used to go to all the time is still there. J&R though, uh oh. Taking me to J&R is like giving a small child four double espressos and turning him or her loose in Toys R Us and/or FAO Schwarz. Seriously between the computer/electronics, movies and music departments (both as in recorded music and as in instruments and accessories) that place is a block of nothing but pure retail Andee-crack. NNNNNNNGGGGG.
*sigh* it's gonna be a busy week.
(no subject)
Mar. 2nd, 2011 12:07 amCan I come home yet? lol.
I kid. But I've been in the city for a day and I'm ragged. Mostly because the major house cleanout is in full swing and even though I helped Nuke with it this morning and most of the afternoon, it felt very much like a drop in the bucket. There is just so. Much. Stuff. It's everywhere, tucked into all the closets, back corners and drawers of all the furniture. Clearing out 40+ years of two people's packrattitude nigh unto severe hoarding problems is not an easy thing, y'all.
It's funny how dredging through all this stuff also dredges up associated memories and emotions as well... in a lot of ways, we are only just now getting to the cleanout that probably should have happened right after Mom died six years ago, so in a way, going through all these bins and drawers and closets with the realization that the last person that touched any of this stuff was probably Mom herself was... rough. It's like there's a pocket of mourning that was neglected and after all this time, here it is. At the same time, a lot of stuff was found that made me smile - a random hat I wore all the time when I was 12, boxes upon boxes of dollhouse furniture, a genuine American Girl outfit I wore like twice (back when AG did actual outfits for girls from the historical lines), Roy Jr's baby bib with the airplane on it, a couple crates of LEGOs, several photo albums of the siblings when they were wee and adorable, and in one instance a porcelain figure of a girl on a carousel horse Mom gave me a long ass time ago, carefully packed away in a padded envelope and marked "For Andee" in Mom's extremely loopy handwriting.
All of this also kicked up a cubic fuckton of dust and I've been a walking cough and sneeze since about 12 o'clock.
Dad's cat is, for lack of a better word, obese. I mean, Moonbeam's always been a chubby cat but two months of free feeding hir Meow Mix has rendered this poor cat positively rotund. Gonna see what I can do regarding getting hir some kind of diet indoor kitty food instead that doesn't have as much corn filler, cause wow, fuzzy pillow with legs is bad. Course all cats look so much bigger/fatter now compared to Lily, who is like, dwarfkitty in comparison. Also kind of annoyed that the only place to find Nature's Miracle in NY is at the Petco in Union Square, but there you go.
Oh SPEAKING OF HARD TO FIND THINGS. I was apparently unaware that there was a shortage of o.b. tampons happening until now. I finally ran out my little cotton vag bullets this cycle and I swear I walked into four or five drugstores between 72nd and York and 68th and Lex, and these things were nowhere to be found. I came home with a very O_o opinion of the period habits of the Upper East Side woman until someone let me know that o.b.s have been rare commodities since at least November (which was about when I bought some last). Grr. It always has to be my damn brand that gets interrupted/discontinued. Though I am amused that a tampon black market has sprung up in o.b.'s hopefully temporary absence. Crazy ass world we live in.
I spent the rest of the evening visiting with Dad, who was tranferred back to Mary Manning Walsh a couple weeks ago. He's doing far better than the last few times I've seen him - he's apparently up and running around the building unassisted these days and there are barely detectable pauses in his speech now. He is VERY MUCH rearing to go home. I can't say I blame him.
Wow. I tell ya, though, I am NOT used to New York anymore. After a day of running around and walking everywhere and running up and down subway stairs, I am positively nonfunctional from the thighs down - in fact I'm about to go hunt down some ibuprofen so I can sleep. Ow. The sore. It burns.
And to think, two and a half more days of this. *whine*
I kid. But I've been in the city for a day and I'm ragged. Mostly because the major house cleanout is in full swing and even though I helped Nuke with it this morning and most of the afternoon, it felt very much like a drop in the bucket. There is just so. Much. Stuff. It's everywhere, tucked into all the closets, back corners and drawers of all the furniture. Clearing out 40+ years of two people's packrattitude nigh unto severe hoarding problems is not an easy thing, y'all.
It's funny how dredging through all this stuff also dredges up associated memories and emotions as well... in a lot of ways, we are only just now getting to the cleanout that probably should have happened right after Mom died six years ago, so in a way, going through all these bins and drawers and closets with the realization that the last person that touched any of this stuff was probably Mom herself was... rough. It's like there's a pocket of mourning that was neglected and after all this time, here it is. At the same time, a lot of stuff was found that made me smile - a random hat I wore all the time when I was 12, boxes upon boxes of dollhouse furniture, a genuine American Girl outfit I wore like twice (back when AG did actual outfits for girls from the historical lines), Roy Jr's baby bib with the airplane on it, a couple crates of LEGOs, several photo albums of the siblings when they were wee and adorable, and in one instance a porcelain figure of a girl on a carousel horse Mom gave me a long ass time ago, carefully packed away in a padded envelope and marked "For Andee" in Mom's extremely loopy handwriting.
All of this also kicked up a cubic fuckton of dust and I've been a walking cough and sneeze since about 12 o'clock.
Dad's cat is, for lack of a better word, obese. I mean, Moonbeam's always been a chubby cat but two months of free feeding hir Meow Mix has rendered this poor cat positively rotund. Gonna see what I can do regarding getting hir some kind of diet indoor kitty food instead that doesn't have as much corn filler, cause wow, fuzzy pillow with legs is bad. Course all cats look so much bigger/fatter now compared to Lily, who is like, dwarfkitty in comparison. Also kind of annoyed that the only place to find Nature's Miracle in NY is at the Petco in Union Square, but there you go.
Oh SPEAKING OF HARD TO FIND THINGS. I was apparently unaware that there was a shortage of o.b. tampons happening until now. I finally ran out my little cotton vag bullets this cycle and I swear I walked into four or five drugstores between 72nd and York and 68th and Lex, and these things were nowhere to be found. I came home with a very O_o opinion of the period habits of the Upper East Side woman until someone let me know that o.b.s have been rare commodities since at least November (which was about when I bought some last). Grr. It always has to be my damn brand that gets interrupted/discontinued. Though I am amused that a tampon black market has sprung up in o.b.'s hopefully temporary absence. Crazy ass world we live in.
I spent the rest of the evening visiting with Dad, who was tranferred back to Mary Manning Walsh a couple weeks ago. He's doing far better than the last few times I've seen him - he's apparently up and running around the building unassisted these days and there are barely detectable pauses in his speech now. He is VERY MUCH rearing to go home. I can't say I blame him.
Wow. I tell ya, though, I am NOT used to New York anymore. After a day of running around and walking everywhere and running up and down subway stairs, I am positively nonfunctional from the thighs down - in fact I'm about to go hunt down some ibuprofen so I can sleep. Ow. The sore. It burns.
And to think, two and a half more days of this. *whine*
(no subject)
Mar. 2nd, 2011 12:07 amCan I come home yet? lol.
I kid. But I've been in the city for a day and I'm ragged. Mostly because the major house cleanout is in full swing and even though I helped Nuke with it this morning and most of the afternoon, it felt very much like a drop in the bucket. There is just so. Much. Stuff. It's everywhere, tucked into all the closets, back corners and drawers of all the furniture. Clearing out 40+ years of two people's packrattitude nigh unto severe hoarding problems is not an easy thing, y'all.
It's funny how dredging through all this stuff also dredges up associated memories and emotions as well... in a lot of ways, we are only just now getting to the cleanout that probably should have happened right after Mom died six years ago, so in a way, going through all these bins and drawers and closets with the realization that the last person that touched any of this stuff was probably Mom herself was... rough. It's like there's a pocket of mourning that was neglected and after all this time, here it is. At the same time, a lot of stuff was found that made me smile - a random hat I wore all the time when I was 12, boxes upon boxes of dollhouse furniture, a genuine American Girl outfit I wore like twice (back when AG did actual outfits for girls from the historical lines), Roy Jr's baby bib with the airplane on it, a couple crates of LEGOs, several photo albums of the siblings when they were wee and adorable, and in one instance a porcelain figure of a girl on a carousel horse Mom gave me a long ass time ago, carefully packed away in a padded envelope and marked "For Andee" in Mom's extremely loopy handwriting.
All of this also kicked up a cubic fuckton of dust and I've been a walking cough and sneeze since about 12 o'clock.
Dad's cat is, for lack of a better word, obese. I mean, Moonbeam's always been a chubby cat but two months of free feeding hir Meow Mix has rendered this poor cat positively rotund. Gonna see what I can do regarding getting hir some kind of diet indoor kitty food instead that doesn't have as much corn filler, cause wow, fuzzy pillow with legs is bad. Course all cats look so much bigger/fatter now compared to Lily, who is like, dwarfkitty in comparison. Also kind of annoyed that the only place to find Nature's Miracle in NY is at the Petco in Union Square, but there you go.
Oh SPEAKING OF HARD TO FIND THINGS. I was apparently unaware that there was a shortage of o.b. tampons happening until now. I finally ran out my little cotton vag bullets this cycle and I swear I walked into four or five drugstores between 72nd and York and 68th and Lex, and these things were nowhere to be found. I came home with a very O_o opinion of the period habits of the Upper East Side woman until someone let me know that o.b.s have been rare commodities since at least November (which was about when I bought some last). Grr. It always has to be my damn brand that gets interrupted/discontinued. Though I am amused that a tampon black market has sprung up in o.b.'s hopefully temporary absence. Crazy ass world we live in.
I spent the rest of the evening visiting with Dad, who was tranferred back to Mary Manning Walsh a couple weeks ago. He's doing far better than the last few times I've seen him - he's apparently up and running around the building unassisted these days and there are barely detectable pauses in his speech now. He is VERY MUCH rearing to go home. I can't say I blame him.
Wow. I tell ya, though, I am NOT used to New York anymore. After a day of running around and walking everywhere and running up and down subway stairs, I am positively nonfunctional from the thighs down - in fact I'm about to go hunt down some ibuprofen so I can sleep. Ow. The sore. It burns.
And to think, two and a half more days of this. *whine*
I kid. But I've been in the city for a day and I'm ragged. Mostly because the major house cleanout is in full swing and even though I helped Nuke with it this morning and most of the afternoon, it felt very much like a drop in the bucket. There is just so. Much. Stuff. It's everywhere, tucked into all the closets, back corners and drawers of all the furniture. Clearing out 40+ years of two people's packrattitude nigh unto severe hoarding problems is not an easy thing, y'all.
It's funny how dredging through all this stuff also dredges up associated memories and emotions as well... in a lot of ways, we are only just now getting to the cleanout that probably should have happened right after Mom died six years ago, so in a way, going through all these bins and drawers and closets with the realization that the last person that touched any of this stuff was probably Mom herself was... rough. It's like there's a pocket of mourning that was neglected and after all this time, here it is. At the same time, a lot of stuff was found that made me smile - a random hat I wore all the time when I was 12, boxes upon boxes of dollhouse furniture, a genuine American Girl outfit I wore like twice (back when AG did actual outfits for girls from the historical lines), Roy Jr's baby bib with the airplane on it, a couple crates of LEGOs, several photo albums of the siblings when they were wee and adorable, and in one instance a porcelain figure of a girl on a carousel horse Mom gave me a long ass time ago, carefully packed away in a padded envelope and marked "For Andee" in Mom's extremely loopy handwriting.
All of this also kicked up a cubic fuckton of dust and I've been a walking cough and sneeze since about 12 o'clock.
Dad's cat is, for lack of a better word, obese. I mean, Moonbeam's always been a chubby cat but two months of free feeding hir Meow Mix has rendered this poor cat positively rotund. Gonna see what I can do regarding getting hir some kind of diet indoor kitty food instead that doesn't have as much corn filler, cause wow, fuzzy pillow with legs is bad. Course all cats look so much bigger/fatter now compared to Lily, who is like, dwarfkitty in comparison. Also kind of annoyed that the only place to find Nature's Miracle in NY is at the Petco in Union Square, but there you go.
Oh SPEAKING OF HARD TO FIND THINGS. I was apparently unaware that there was a shortage of o.b. tampons happening until now. I finally ran out my little cotton vag bullets this cycle and I swear I walked into four or five drugstores between 72nd and York and 68th and Lex, and these things were nowhere to be found. I came home with a very O_o opinion of the period habits of the Upper East Side woman until someone let me know that o.b.s have been rare commodities since at least November (which was about when I bought some last). Grr. It always has to be my damn brand that gets interrupted/discontinued. Though I am amused that a tampon black market has sprung up in o.b.'s hopefully temporary absence. Crazy ass world we live in.
I spent the rest of the evening visiting with Dad, who was tranferred back to Mary Manning Walsh a couple weeks ago. He's doing far better than the last few times I've seen him - he's apparently up and running around the building unassisted these days and there are barely detectable pauses in his speech now. He is VERY MUCH rearing to go home. I can't say I blame him.
Wow. I tell ya, though, I am NOT used to New York anymore. After a day of running around and walking everywhere and running up and down subway stairs, I am positively nonfunctional from the thighs down - in fact I'm about to go hunt down some ibuprofen so I can sleep. Ow. The sore. It burns.
And to think, two and a half more days of this. *whine*
So I'm laying here in the process of waking up, which occasionally involves a hand wandering beneath my pj bottoms to scratch bits that don't see sunshine much, if you catch my drift. (yeah yeah shut up you do it too. :P)
...pro-tip: it is never advisable to have a hand moving beneath fabric for any reason if there is a cat in the house. Even if you're damn sure it's in another bit of the house entirely, this does not mean it will not pop forth from a transdimensional portal in order to hunt the unseen creature tunneling beneath said fabric.
Pro-tip2: having ten or so pounds of muscle, fuzz, and claws unexpectedly land on your crotch with enough force to create craters in less resilient materials is not a fun sensation. Especially not when your last thought before this happened was something along the lines of "man I really need to get up and pee." Ow.
I will have to post yesterday's adventure in the city with Tash&Winnie soon as it was a journey with noting, but it will have to wait for when I can type it on a real keyboard. I'll leave it as we walked so damn much and my calves feel quite a but like someone repeatedly hit me with a bat until the muscle beneath turned to jello and pain. Driving home tonight after the ballet is not going to be fun.
...pro-tip: it is never advisable to have a hand moving beneath fabric for any reason if there is a cat in the house. Even if you're damn sure it's in another bit of the house entirely, this does not mean it will not pop forth from a transdimensional portal in order to hunt the unseen creature tunneling beneath said fabric.
Pro-tip2: having ten or so pounds of muscle, fuzz, and claws unexpectedly land on your crotch with enough force to create craters in less resilient materials is not a fun sensation. Especially not when your last thought before this happened was something along the lines of "man I really need to get up and pee." Ow.
I will have to post yesterday's adventure in the city with Tash&Winnie soon as it was a journey with noting, but it will have to wait for when I can type it on a real keyboard. I'll leave it as we walked so damn much and my calves feel quite a but like someone repeatedly hit me with a bat until the muscle beneath turned to jello and pain. Driving home tonight after the ballet is not going to be fun.
So I'm laying here in the process of waking up, which occasionally involves a hand wandering beneath my pj bottoms to scratch bits that don't see sunshine much, if you catch my drift. (yeah yeah shut up you do it too. :P)
...pro-tip: it is never advisable to have a hand moving beneath fabric for any reason if there is a cat in the house. Even if you're damn sure it's in another bit of the house entirely, this does not mean it will not pop forth from a transdimensional portal in order to hunt the unseen creature tunneling beneath said fabric.
Pro-tip2: having ten or so pounds of muscle, fuzz, and claws unexpectedly land on your crotch with enough force to create craters in less resilient materials is not a fun sensation. Especially not when your last thought before this happened was something along the lines of "man I really need to get up and pee." Ow.
I will have to post yesterday's adventure in the city with Tash&Winnie soon as it was a journey with noting, but it will have to wait for when I can type it on a real keyboard. I'll leave it as we walked so damn much and my calves feel quite a but like someone repeatedly hit me with a bat until the muscle beneath turned to jello and pain. Driving home tonight after the ballet is not going to be fun.
...pro-tip: it is never advisable to have a hand moving beneath fabric for any reason if there is a cat in the house. Even if you're damn sure it's in another bit of the house entirely, this does not mean it will not pop forth from a transdimensional portal in order to hunt the unseen creature tunneling beneath said fabric.
Pro-tip2: having ten or so pounds of muscle, fuzz, and claws unexpectedly land on your crotch with enough force to create craters in less resilient materials is not a fun sensation. Especially not when your last thought before this happened was something along the lines of "man I really need to get up and pee." Ow.
I will have to post yesterday's adventure in the city with Tash&Winnie soon as it was a journey with noting, but it will have to wait for when I can type it on a real keyboard. I'll leave it as we walked so damn much and my calves feel quite a but like someone repeatedly hit me with a bat until the muscle beneath turned to jello and pain. Driving home tonight after the ballet is not going to be fun.
Cute kitties are cute.
Aug. 28th, 2009 01:02 pmOne of exactly two things coaxing a smile out of me today.
Cute kitties are cute.
Aug. 28th, 2009 01:02 pmOne of exactly two things coaxing a smile out of me today.
Went back to sleep for a couple hours. Had much better dreams this time around. Woke up to the feeling of Dad's cat plopping himself down against the small of my back and purring loudly as he went to sleep.
Much better.
Also I know I'm late to the party bit GODDAMN The Whitest Kids U Know is funny stuff.
Today - more coffee, work, meeting Gena for either lunch or dinner, listen to the rain, think about stuff for tomorrow-next week.
Much better.
Also I know I'm late to the party bit GODDAMN The Whitest Kids U Know is funny stuff.
Today - more coffee, work, meeting Gena for either lunch or dinner, listen to the rain, think about stuff for tomorrow-next week.
Went back to sleep for a couple hours. Had much better dreams this time around. Woke up to the feeling of Dad's cat plopping himself down against the small of my back and purring loudly as he went to sleep.
Much better.
Also I know I'm late to the party bit GODDAMN The Whitest Kids U Know is funny stuff.
Today - more coffee, work, meeting Gena for either lunch or dinner, listen to the rain, think about stuff for tomorrow-next week.
Much better.
Also I know I'm late to the party bit GODDAMN The Whitest Kids U Know is funny stuff.
Today - more coffee, work, meeting Gena for either lunch or dinner, listen to the rain, think about stuff for tomorrow-next week.
