A Sparkly!
September 3, 2008 at 1:30 am | In Uncategorized | Leave a CommentWhile I’m waiting for Flikr to finish processing my Pro account order (which, PS, JUST expired like yesterday, go figure), here’s something to whet your appetite – my placeholder sparkly from JB! Drink in the awesomeness, people:
Shameless Plug – FeedMeBrains.com
August 26, 2008 at 7:29 pm | In Uncategorized | Leave a CommentTags: zombie blog
We interrupt your regularly-scheduled reading for a quick shameless plug. Me and a couple of buddies have decided to indulge our shared obsession with a particular undead creature and create our own zombie blog:
For my squeamish readers (and I know I have a bunch, if the number of squeamish people in “real life” correlates), this will be the last zombie mention on this blog. But for those of you who need a Dawn of the Dead fix every now and again, come on down and check us out.
Boxes in the Kitchen.
April 17, 2008 at 8:55 pm | In Uncategorized | Leave a CommentTags: move to new york, moving, packing, relocating
There are a bunch of empty cardboard boxes stacked in my kitchen. JB brought them home last night from his office. The way he stacked them, they kind of look like a person.
They’re here because we’re moving.
In, oh wow, less than 10 days, I’m packing up my car (meaning I’m taking an overnight bag since I drive a Miata) and driving to New York. The same New York that I left just over a year ago to move up here. The same move that I literally just last month finished unpacking from. And now I’m going to repack, in part with the boxes in the kitchen, and go home.
And I’m excited.
See, I landed what I’m pretty sure is the job of my dreams. Now, JB would argue that I moved to Boston for what I thought was the job of my dreams. And my friends would argue I have the job of my dreams now (working from home in sweatpants). And they’d probably be right. At the time. But just as it was time to move on from the job I moved to Boston for, it’s now time to move on from the sweatpants. At least for four days per week, since I’ve been told I can work from home on Fridays. So I’m going to gradually transition away from the sweatpants. Don’t want to shock my system, after all.
I move in 10 days, JB follows two weeks after that, we have no idea where we’re going to live or anything (besides with my parents for a few weeks, thanks for putting us up mom and dad!), but we’re both excited. It’s what those boxes in the kitchen are saying to me right now – possibility. I’ve determined this is going to be my purge move – I did the math and I’ve somehow moved 13 times in the last 10 years and I keep managing to haul the same crap with me everywhere. I mean, stuff that just sits in boxes until my next move. So those empty boxes are just screamining possibility at me right now, since I’m not altogether sure what’s going to go in them, and I’m not sure where I’m going to end up.
I wish I’d had this metaphor when I was graduating from college. Makes a lot more sense to me than a lot of the crap they said at Commencement.
PS – to all my friends in NY, YES, of course we’re going to meet up for a drink! Send me a note on Facebook and we’ll plan!
A bad time for Good Time.
January 9, 2008 at 8:12 pm | In How to Function in Society, Uncategorized | 1 CommentTags: allergy, hospital, recovery, spina bifida
Good Time is not off to the best start in 2008. She had minor surgery in early December – at least, it was supposed to be minor. Instead, she had a terrible allergic reaction to her pain meds, leaving her with a fever approaching 105. She kicked the fever and the reaction, but the whole thing took its toll. JB and I got a call from Manned Up in the days leading up to the New Year, saying he’d taken Good Time to the ER where they were admitting her.
Poor gal was dehydrated, in pain all over, and exhausted. I tried to explain to the docs that it was nothing a good Chi-tini couldn’t fix, but they were having none of it. So they kept her for about a week, pumping her full of lovely fluids and getting her nice and hooked on Ambien. She was lucky enough not to have a roommate, though, and managed to pull off the impressive feat of watching 52 episodes of Law & Order in under 72 hours.
So the good news is she’s better now, but unfortunately way too weak to go home yet. Not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, but Good Time was born with spina bifida and is in a wheelchair. If girlfriend doesn’t have her full strength, well, it’s not good. So she’s currently cooling her heels at a rehab center all of 5 minutes from her house – she is not amused.
Now, I use the phrase “rehab center” a little loosely. For Good Time, that’s definitely what it is. She’s there for physical therapy to get herself back in fighting shape so she can go home. From what I’ve seen, though, for the other residents it’s more of, how you say, an “old age home”? Oh boy does Good Time love that. I keep trying to tell her that she should just enjoy being the youngest one there by about 40 years (she of the milestone birthday last year), but she doesn’t see the humor. She also didn’t see the humor when I reminded her she could totally kick everyone’s ass in the Rascal Races. Ah well. She’ll laugh when she’s better.
I think she’s on the mend, though, as we had some great laughs last night. Her roommate at this place is a really nice lady who is pretty much entirely deaf. I can commiserate. This woman, I’ll call her Enid, she looks like an Enid, is a real character. She went out for a litle mosey with her walker the other night at about 7:30, and when she came back in at 8 she loudly announced to all of us visiting Good Time that “this place is like a morgue! Everyone’s in bed!” If you ask me, Good Time could have done a lot worse for a roommate – Enid brings her meals and other snacks from the dining area, gives her privacy when she wants it, and watches her TV on mute since the volume doesn’t make a difference to her. Not too shabby.
But last night takes the cake. When JB and I got there, Enid was out visiting with some of her buddies. We were in with Good Time for about an hour before she came back – JB was watching Good Time’s TV and she and I were chatting. Enid walks in, sees her TV is off, and asks Good Time, “Who keeps coming in here and shutting this thing off?!” Good Time said she had no idea, she’d been sleeping, and Enid shook her head, grumbled, and turned the TV back on. When Good Time turned to face me I saw she had the giggles something fierce.
“You know what I learned?” she asked, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to hold in her giggles.
“What?”
“My remote works on both TVs.”
“You mean you turned off her TV?”
“Yes. Not on purpose, but yes. Many times today.”
And she and I both lost it. Lost it. Crying laughing, I was on the floor, and I thought she might fall out of bed. JB thought we were insane – but that’s not unusual.
I miss her. Hope she goes home soon. Get better, Good Time.
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