I can watch “Get a Life” whenever I want, because I live alone!

In a classic episode of “Get a Life,” Chris begins to stalk a woman named Tricia after she helps him when he’s hit by a car while riding his bike. She not only sets his broken leg right then and there, but she also pulls out a welder’s mask and fixes his bike. She’s a genius, “at least according to those silly tests, anyway.” Chris is smitten, and follows her to her job at a fancy science lab.

It’s here where he enters a chamber that contains radioactive materials, by accident. When Tricia finally pulls him out of there, he announces with pure satisfaction: “Hey, my sour stomach is gone!”

And here’s where I finally make my point: I want my own sour stomach to go away!

This past year or so, I’ve noticed that my stomach is more sensitive than ever to certain foods and drinks. I’m also more easily nauseated while doing intense physical activity over a sustained period of time. I have had quite a few bouts of nausea and vomiting this year. I don’t remember throwing up in the past as much as I do now. It sucks so much, because throwing up sucks so much. I hate it and I probably will need to sort it out somehow, at some point.

What I mean by “sort it out” is, of course, see a doctor about the problem. I don’t want to be bothered right now with that, though. It’s not a daily issue or anything I can’t live with. It’s just an annoyance and something to keep an eye on at this point, I guess. I’m not too worries because I know our bodies change over time and our tolerances for certain substances can diminish, and this is a normal thing. I’m just still figuring out what I can’t tolerate anymore, one puke-scenario at a time.

(I threw up yesterday after doing yard work for about three straight hours, and I’d only eaten a bowl of oatmeal and my usual daily fruit smoothie. The combo of overexertion in the heat — it did get hot out there as the day went on – and not eating enough was what brought it on, I think. I felt lightheaded, too, so that’s kind of the giveaway.)

I stumbled upon an intriguing website and FB community today: Quirky Alone.  It’s for all the people who live by themselves, and the many joys and indulgences that we sometimes take for granted. And of course, it talks about how people who live alone develop quirky behaviors and habits. I like this site, because it celebrates the coolness and uniqueness that comes with living alone. I don’t like it when someone insinuates that I might be lonely, or that my choice to remain single is unhealthy in some way, or abnormal. I’m surrounded by women who are either in relationships or are married, and that’s fine. For them. Hey, if they found happiness with someone, that’s terrific and I’m not looking at them in a negative light in any way. Everyone would love to find that someone to be with, really. It’s hardwired into our nature to seek out a mate. HOWEVER…

…the women who are fixated on relationships, on being social all the damn time, the ones who passive-aggressively talk about the joys of living with someone… they really annoy the shit out of me. Fortunately I have weeded out most of them, because why deal with that crap if I don’t have to? But it still happens in social settings, or in neutral places like the office, or in stores if you chat up the cashier, etc. I don’t appreciate someone trying to make me feel “less than” because of my choice to be alone. Whether they mean to do it, or not. So, I practice avoidance! And it’s very effective.

Now with this Quirky Alone site, I see that I’m actually part of a weird little community of eccentric people, and I like it! I love how people share the strange habits they do, or the things they would never do around other people but do while living alone because they can.

I’ve wondered off and on how it might feel to live with someone again, in the future. And it worries me. I don’t know that I’d want to go back to co-habitation after all this time of independence. Here is my list of main benefits to having someone else live with me:

1) Split the bills! Yippee yahoo!

2) We could team up in case of attack or invasion (equals a better chance at surviving)

3) Someone would do half the housework. Instead of me doing all of it, all the damn time.

4) Someone could be home to let the dog out after a long day if I am running late.

But the downsides of co-habitation for me, right now, would be:

1) Having to share my bed with someone. I don’t want to sleep in the same room as someone else on a regular basis, no matter how much I might love him. In fact, true love in my book would understand the importance of separate bedrooms. I want to snore, spread out, sleep with the cat on the other pillow, and hog all the covers. I don’t need to deal with some other person in there at THAT time. Just let me sleep how I sleep, damn it.

2) TV watching/ music listening becomes a team activity. You have to find things to agree on to watch/listen to at any given time. Someone might tease you for sitting there watching Dorian Gray for the eleventy-hundred time, or you might have to wait for them to watch 5 hours of Top Gear before you get to catch up on your DVRed episode of Once Upon a Time. Nah… I have been so spoiled by having 100% control over the remote, and I don’t want to give it back!

3) Arguing or feeling unspoken remorse or resentment because of the other person not doing/ doing something they were supposed to/ not supposed to be doing. Like if one person stays out pretty late without calling, or forgets to unload the dishwasher, or doesn’t get around to fixing that leaky hose they said they’d fix, damn it… See? It could be miserable. For both people.

4) The very real fear that someone could be allergic to my pets, or worse– not get along with them. Sorry, if it becomes a “either they go or I go” situation, guess who has to pack his bags, chump? You. Not them.

5) SHARING THINGS. Like a bowl of popcorn. Or a headcold. Everything eventually becomes community property, and that would take some getting used to for me. Everything I have is all mine right now. Mine. I’m like a little kid that gets all the toys in the playbox for herself. 

So, at the moment, I am content with my life and how I live it. Sure, there are lonely times, and sometimes I am scared because I am alone and I hear a weird noise outside, but the OTHER times far outweigh any of that. I never used to understand what my Mom meant when she said she was happy living on her own and didn’t feel the need to date anyone.

Now I do. This realization is either good, or bad, depending on how I look at it on any given day. I don’t want to wind up like my Mom had been for years, just sitting in her house all day with nothing to do. But on the other hand, to reach that sense of peace that comes with relaxing and being yourself 24/7 without interruptions is definitely worth having.

I like the calm center in the middle of my life. I like not feeling an urgency to join up with someone else. It works for me. And I think finding the thing that works for you is so important, and it does take some time.

Yesterday, I was glad to deal with my nausea alone without someone else being in my house. I hate throwing up in the vicinity of other people so much! Because I never want to be around anyone else who is throwing up… why would I be OK with letting someone be nearby when I do it?!  It was just one of those times where I was grateful to be alone. I showered, got into comfy clothes with no bra on, and relaxed all night before going to bed early. (The only thing that bugged me was I missed having dinner with my family last night as a result of the nausea, and when I pictured them enjoying dinner without me, I felt lonely/jealous.)  

So, there are some overall pros and cons to living alone, yeah. Sometimes it sucks a little–like when emergencies happen and you have to call someone to come help you. Sometimes it’s crazy-fun– like when you blast your favorite music and rock out in your horrible clothes and sing really loud as you dance around the kitchen. Either way, it’s the life I have chosen and the life I will continue to choose for quite some time to come, I think. It would take a really, really exceptional individual to make me change my mind about living with someone. And I ain’t holding my breath for that.

Whatever comes my way, comes my way, and that’s all I want to do about it! I’ll see where life takes me.

By order of the Vice President

Hurley’s latest nickname is Vice President.

He helps me (for, I am the President) make decisions and he will step in and perform my duties by keeping the cats in line if I am to fall in the line of duty. Or fall in some doody. Ha ha ha FART!

The VP has ways of making me do things I don’t want to do. For example, when I hit the snooze button a few times in the morning because I don’t want to get out of my warm, comfortable bed, the VP will jump up on the bed and forcefully lick my face until I get up. He is especially brutal around my eyes for whatever reason. It’s not enjoyable, and I find myself getting up just to escape the licking.

He expects frequent treats. He will stand in front of the shelf where I keep the treats and jump and try to get my attention; when I look at him, he looks up at the shelf, then at me, back to the shelf, back to me, etc. His face is expectant and dare I say, a little frightening in its seriousness. I do what I can to resist. (I have recently procured some very low-calorie treats and cut back on the food in his dish to make up for the treating that goes on.)

The VP takes his duties seriously. He is never late to work on any of these things, and does not falter from his post. He will sit at the front window and loudly proclaim his displeasure at anyone or anything that moves past our house. He will immediately rush to investigate any noise, no matter how soft. When the blender/ vacuum/ juicer/ salad spinner is in operation, he immediately barks and finds a cat to wrestle with, without fail. Vice presidents are very good at keeping the populace in line, it turns out.

I’m very happy he’s my running mate, three years into this Presidency. He was a solid choice from a proven party (the Shetland Sheepdog Party) and he’s got a lot of integrity and strong morals. He stands by his beliefs. And he’s good at public events– you should see him in the photos, shaking hands (or paws) and kissing babies.

God bless the Vice President! Now I must go and confer with him in counsel. We have many matters of state to discuss.

To my friends on Blogger

Hi there. Listen, I am having serious issues trying to comment on your blogs! I have to sign in multiple times, for one thing, and now I get hung up on the word verification screens. On Jen’s page, for instance, I just went through at least 10 iterations/word combinations and I carefully typed them in as I saw them and Blogger kept telling me what I typed was incorrect. UPDATE: I finally got through! That was just so weird. And I even posted a second comment, and that one was ‘accepted’ on the first try. I don’t get it. I really don’t get it!

It blows. I am not ignoring you or being a creeper, I promise! If you have Blogger and you aren’t seeing many comments from me, now you know why. This has been happening for the last couple of months, off and on. I don’t understand it, because sometimes I can log in WITHOUT A PROBLEM and post comments! I don’t know what’s different about the other times, when I can’t log in.

“It’s a Juice Tiger.”

Juicing is a hit or miss activity, that’s for sure.

I’m still doing it. I’m happy that I haven’t stopped because it’s now reached that point where it’s becoming a true habit, and I love that. When I started with this, I was confident in my own passion about it, yet there was a very human part of me that was worried I’d quit and lose interest. I lose interest in so many things anymore, the older I get. I bet I could benefit from some counseling to figure out why things often feel like “too much effort to think about” and so, I don’t think about them, but… counseling, even with co-pays, is expensive. So for now, I will stick with journaling and blogging.

Anyhoo. Juicing. I use my juicer about every other day right now. Mostly I am making fruit-based juices because YUM. They are all kinds of delicious. I was psyched to make fresh apple juice for my sister, BIL and Mom on Saturday night when they stopped by my house. I’ve wanted to share the awesomeness with someone for awhile now! Everyone loved the apple juice, of course. There is nothing like it. I can’t imagine drinking that filtered Mott’s crap after this!

I’ve also perfected a green juice recipe that works for me. It’s kale, spinach, celery, ginger, lemon and apple. It’s got a savory, tart taste and I’ve come to really enjoy it. It’s not exactly sweet, but the apple gives it a lovely little edge that makes it taste right. Apple, BTW, is the magic ingredient. It can fix an otherwise crappy juice! Just throw an apple or two in there.

Today I went to this place called 24 Carrots to get a green juice for a late lunch. I’d worked right through my normal lunch time, and thought it would be cool to have a juice today. Plus, if you go between 2-5pm, all the juices there are 1/2 off. I even called my sister and offered to get her a juice and drop it off at her office on my way back to my own job.

She chose her juice wisely. She got a strawberry-banana-grape-apple-orange juice. It was a pretty burgundy color. I decided to go for the most extreme juice on the menu, though: the Fields of Green. This has “fresh local greens, kale, parsley, celery, cucumber, wheatgrass, apple and lemon.” Since I’ve yet to try parsley or wheatgrass in my own juices at home, I thought this would be a good way to find out if I like them. I trusted that a juice made at this particular cafe would be a finely-crafted recipe, too. Everything there is delicious.

However… umm…

Some juices just do not taste good. And the Fields of Green is definitely one of those juices. I took a giant first sip, kind-of expecting a similar taste to my own green juice, and WOW, was I surprised. It had absolutely no sweetness, tartness or any hint of fruit whatsoever. In fact, if I had even a little squeezy-bottle of lemon juice I could have squirted in there, I might have been able to ‘save’ this juice. I could pick out the different veggies in each sip, for sure. But I really believe the guy behind the counter forgot to add the fruit, period.

I don’t know. Maybe some people can easily drink a 100% vegetable juice like that without a problem. Maybe it’s an acquired taste. All I know is that today I wasn’t enjoying it. I drank maybe 1/5 of the juice, just forced it down out of principle. When I got to my sister’s office, she offered me a taste of her juice, and it was wonderful of course. She was curious and tasted mine – and almost gagged. “It tastes like someone cut the grass and then poured it into some water!” Yeah, pretty much! Maybe it was the wheatgrass, then, fuckin’ things up. I have heard wheatgrass is a pretty strong tasting thing. Either way, ICK.

The next time I go to 24 Carrots, I’m getting some other recipe that’s fruity. I worry sometimes that I am not balanced with fruits and vegetables, since I do drink my awesome fruit & flaxseed smoothie every morning, and then snack on fruit and drink fruit juices… I don’t think I get enough veggies. I’m trying to make a real effort to fix that. Lots of salads, my homemade green juice, stir-fry vegetables, etc. are all part of this effort. It’s just interesting how much easier to is to eat most fruit than it is to eat vegetables. Fruit is generally more portable, and you can eat fruits by themselves. You can’t really wander around, gnawing on a red cabbage or bunch of spinach. (And carrots get old, after awhile… you want more variety than that.) No, veggies require prep work and they taste best mixed with other veggies. In my humble opinion, anyway.

Oh, this is interesting: Yesterday for lunch I ended up eating something I didn’t even want. I had a Pizza Hut personal pizza and a soda. Why did I eat this? I couldn’t think of anywhere to go and I was heading to 24 Carrots, actually, and the parking lot was SLAMMED. So I turned around, and went to the first place I saw: the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut place where I used to eat back before I cared so much about what I ate.

It was not enjoyable at all. Especially the soda part. Now, I think that’s pretty incredible, actually… I used to LOVE soda. I craved it, big time! But I haven’t had it in well over a month. Yesterday, there was nothing else to drink at the beverage fountain except for pink lemonade and raspberry Nestea. Nope on either of those. Just as bad and full of fake ingredients as the soda. So I had some diet Pepsi mixed with Dr. Pepper. No refills this time. In fact, I tossed most of it away.

For dinner last night, I did eat a decent meal (stir fry vegetables and brown rice). But then, about an hour before bed, I felt really hungry. I’d just bought a half-gallon of organic dairy milk, more as an experiment than anything else. I still like the almond milk a LOT. Anyway, I had about 8 ounces of milk last night; just sat down and drank a glass of it.

And within an hour, a headache hit in a big way.

I even had trouble falling asleep because of it! I took some Tylenol and it didn’t do a thing. Stupid headache. I woke up with it today, too, and had it most of the morning. Fortunately, I used my Goody’s powder and it absolutely helped.

I am curious if the poor lunch yesterday followed by a return to dairy milk might have contributed to the sudden headache. It felt like the headaches I used to get before I began all this juicing/smoothie business — not always a migraine, but just under that threshold and enough to make me miserable.

It’s really fascinating to pay close attention to what foods do to your body, and try to figure out what is best for you and what is harmful. It doesn’t take much brainpower to know soda is bad, of course. But maybe the milk isn’t particularly awesome for my system for some reason. I don’t know yet. But I’m definitely keeping this on my radar to gauge if there’s a pattern there.

It’s an ongoing process and journey. And I am game for it. I can’t wait to see where I am say, one year from now. What I’ve figured out. How I feel. I just want to continuously improve this one life I’ve got.

Once Upon a Time, the Walking Dead joined the Scorpio Races…

Today I thought I’d make a list of THINGS I CURRENTLY LOVE. Probably because I don’t feel like rambling about the same old shit today. So, here is my funky little list:

*The Walking Dead. No surprise here; you all know I love this show. But it’s just So. Incredibly. Awesome. The writing is phenomenal, the actors do a believable job bringing humanity to an apocalyptic situation; the directing is tight, tense and always well-paced. At least every other episode (if not EVERY episode) there’s a scene or two that are actual heart-pounders. I have noticed I’m holding my breath, or I’m physically tense in my chair as I watch some bad shit go down. Since I know not everyone here has been watching Season 2 yet, I won’t spill any spoilers. But I have already gone back to thinking of a few scenes from this season just out of the blue here and there and felt all uncomfortable and creeped out. I take this as a good sign that the show’s really making an impact on me.

* Once Upon a Time. It’s like candy! I love looking at it, I love thinking about it. I really am getting into the story and savoring the creative twists the writers are throwing into each episode. One of the head writers is Jane Espenson, who was one of the BEST writers on Buffy. She knows how to write a good drama episode. She wrote “Skin Deep,” the Beauty and the Beast episode, and it was really great. I love that the writers who came over from LOST also seemed to bring the best of what they did there (deftly weave together different storylines, narratives and timelines) but have self-corrected on this show and aren’t falling into the LOST traps that kind of put a damper on the show towards the end (getting too complicated, not being able to tie up loose ends, letting a storyline spiral too far along with no end-game, etc). This show gives you answers and nuggets to keep you hooked and feel like “this is all going somewhere.” And I love that. I learn from this kind of writing, actually; it does apply to novels as well as scripts, of course!

* New Girl. Although this one took several episodes to find its footing, it definitely seems to be hitting the mark pretty damn consistently now. It’s one of the few shows I actually laugh out loud at when I’m watching it. It’s replaced 30 Rock in my humor-heart. (30 Rock has taken its premise about as far as it can go and now it’s just circling the block, getting downright silly and repetitive. Sad, but true. Tina, you clearly aren’t ‘into it’ anymore, so hopefully you can move on to whatever other project is percolating in your intelligent, awesome head…soon!) Even though time is a precious commodity, I will re-watch episodes of this show from time to time, which is something I don’t do with any other show except for…

* Parks and Recreation! I have made my adoration of this show painfully obvious already, I know. It’s so perfect. It’s sweet, hilarious, but ultimately it’s a super-positive, happy show! Leslie Knope is upbeat, optimistic and passionate– all qualities NOT common in television characters anymore. I love that she isn’t dripping with sarcasm or irony. And the other characters are a wonderful mix, too. I love every single one of them. Even Jerry! Awww, poor Jerry!

* The Scorpio Races. This is the latest book I’ve been reading, after giving up on a Michael Crichton book that Jason insisted I had to read. (That book, Next, turned out to be a little too convoluted with too many storylines and none of them felt fleshed out halfway into the book, so I gave up.) The Scorpio Races is written by Maggie Stiefvater, who’s actually a very cool writer to follow on Twitter and Facebook, because she shares very useful tips for writers and seems so down to earth and approachable. She wrote the “Shiver” werewolf trilogy, of which I’ll admit I haven’t read the third novel even though I bought it the day it came out, since I lost interest somewhat, but this book is clearly the result of years of work. Her attention to detail in this story is fabulous. I love how descriptive she is. These lines for example: “We are shoulder to shoulder due to the size of the cab, and if Gratton is made of flour and potatoes, Sean is made of stone and driftwood and possibly those prickly anemones that sometimes wash up on shore.” There’s another line the character Sean thinks as he walks through the town, all decorated for a festival and parade with tourists from the mainland everywhere that goes something like, “I look at Skarmouth, and it looks back at me through narrowed, harsh eyes.” (I don’t have the book here and I can’t find the quote online– I’ll correct it later.) It’s a very good book and clearly, Maggie is maturing as an author and really pouring her all into storytelling here. I’m so happy for her, as an author, to have created this! It’s currently up for some YA literature awards, all well-deserved.

I guess I only like things with STORIES lately! Well, that’s not exactly a surprise. But yes, I do love these shows and this book and I love IMAGINATION and CREATIVITY and yes, those words had to be in BOLD because they are so big!!

Halfway house… for cats?

Oh for CHRIST’S SAKE…!

My new friend D at the pet rescue place just sent me this message:

“Hey there, have you ever considered fostering/adopting another cat instead of a dog? Reason I ask is one of my volunteers has been gaining the trust of this BEAUITFUL MaineCoon cat who was abandoned in her neighborhood, the cat is now living in her garage and is the sweetest, loving girl who loves to be petted. My volunteer would be willing to have her spayed/HIV tested/vaccinated if she can find her a loving home. MaineCoone rescue is willing to take her but they don’t do home checks so we are little leery but need to find her a home soon. I can’t attached the picture here will post it on your wall.”

I told her I’d consider it, because of one big reason: in theory, it could be a LOT easier to foster a cat than a dog. Not only could I keep my daily routine the same (no running home at lunch to let a dog outside), but I could definitely keep the cat separate from the other pets by having her stay in my hall bathroom. That’s where the other cats have stayed (my Mom’s cat and the gray leukemia+ kitten last summer) without problems.

So, I DON’T KNOW. I guess I’ll see what happens after they test/vaccinate and spay this cat. The good thing is D won’t place any pet in any foster home without making sure it’s safe first, so that helps alleviate some worry. The other plus is Hurley isn’t threatened by cats at all, and in fact, seems super content with them around. He won’t give me any shit about this, I know it. Now, the other two boys might take it differently, but somehow that doesn’t worry me as much as upsetting Hurley. (Hurley’s just super sensitive AND my first-mate, my vice president.)

Stay tuned.

I guess. (sigh)

Here’s the cat. Wow, what a surprise: she’s ORANGE. Huh.

Too many donuts in the box

Today is my Mom’s birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! I know she won’t see this, most likely, since she doesn’t go online anymore, but I still like to put it out there. This is a good birthday for her this year, since she is living in the new 55+ place and having a blast! It’s worked out so well. She loves her apartment, and she really loves going to the different social events they have all the time. Today, for instance, happens to be the day the community celebrates the February birthdays over at the clubhouse. Perfect timing for Mom! After that, she’s going to bingo, I think. She’s talking to people and hopefully will make some friends soon. I’m very happy for her.

Work is going well, even though there was a falling-out between two coworkers and honestly, one of them is just batshit crazy…which makes it awkward around here. Fortunately, Batshit has been out most of this week, so we’ve avoided any weirdness. Still, it really sucks when someone has to piss on someone else just to make themselves feel more important or deflect attention when caught making a mistake. It ruins the ‘team’ dynamic in a big way, and it’s just uncalled for. There is no reason to be outright rude and negative to someone. Anyway, BLAH. I am definitely trying to stay out of it! I’m not really a part of it, even though my boss is affected. It’s just been on my mind, I guess, because it’s so ridiculous. And it could have been avoided or not happened at all, if one person could just keep ‘er mouth shut…

Anyway! Enough with talking about myself in the third person!

I think I’ve been bingeing with food. It’s so awful, too, because I physically feel the effects of the gluttony and then there is the SHAME. On Valentine’s Day, I was craving a Dunkin Donut so bad for some reason. Probably because a FB friend posted pictures of heart-shaped donuts. Anyway, after work I went through the drive through on my way home with the intent of getting two donuts: plain strawberry frosted. But they were OUT of those. And the girl was such a good salesperson, OMG. She told me that a fresh batch of chocolate frosted donuts just came out of the oven and were “still warm” and that they were running a special for Valentine’s Day: If you buy four donuts, you get two free. So what do I do?

I say, “OK, just give me the 6 donuts, then.” ? ! ? ! ? !

And guess what I did after that? I came home and ate a donut. Before dinner, which was supposed to be a nice, healthy salad. But I never did have that salad, because I ended up eating a total of THREE donuts that night. Holy shit, Batman. And then I felt awful and actually thought I was going to throw up. I wished I would, actually, since I certainly didn’t need that crap in my stomach, that’s for sure. Instead, I made a large container’s worth of green detox juice and had some of that. The rest became my lunch yesterday.

What became of the other 3 donuts? Oh, two of them did get eaten between yesterday and today. And the last one was thrown out because it seemed gross anyway (it was a filled donut and mehhhh, I don’t like those).

Today I had a slice of pizza, salad and some garlic knots at NYPD Pizza with my sister for lunch. And I slammed it down, since she only has 45 minutes for lunch, and holy dumptruck full of shit, I’m feeling it. And it happened over two hours ago now. I should not have done that. I didn’t need those garlic knots. I did KNOT need them. And the salad is pretty large, and I knew that, so maybe I should have just eaten half of the slice of pizza, but nope. Eating fast definitely does make me consume so much more. I realize this now, more than ever, since I’ve been doing the deliberate eating thing.

Anyway, this morning I stepped on the scale and I had gained back two pounds. Nooooo! That’s it. I’m not going to let this one go. No way. Especially knowing how much better I’ve been feeling (anemia notwithstanding). I am scared I could get a migraine now thanks to all the extra, unnecessary food.

OK, so I have had three bad days. And maybe the two pounds are no big deal; all I have to do is get back on track and let this little binge-incident be a lesson. I have to remember how I feel RIGHT NOW the next time I feel like giving in to a craving for garlic knots, or donuts. And that feeling is UGH. Belly’s full of sludge. It doesn’t feel nice.

Hey! In other news, I’ve been following the story of the little dog who had his leg amputated. I had offered to foster him, but so had about 20 other people! It was a boon to the rescue group, really. Axel was able to draw new people to the group and raise awareness across state lines. People were donating from West Virginia, Colorado and Michigan to pay for his surgery! And they did–they raised the $1,200. Amazing. Anyway, Axel was fostered by his nurse at the vet’s office, and yesterday he was officially adopted. What a happy ending!

Today, D from the rescue group contacted me because two little dogs were just pulled from the e-list at the pound. They both have kennel cough, and are in treatment for that. One of the dogs is likely already spoken for, which is good, because it was a min-pin and I do not feel like dealing with one of those since that’s the dog my Dad has and they were unable to housebreak her for over a year. However, the second little dog will be in need of a foster home once he’s over his kennel cough.

And so, it might come to pass that this little dog could be our very first official foster!

And this dog is not going to go unadopted for long, for sure. Little dogs like him get lots of attention from adopters. As long as he gets along with my boys, we’ll likely do this thing. Pretty neat!

Oh, one thing does sort of suck right now: Last night, I had to separate Simon and Gremlin. Gremlin would not stop attacking Simon. Simon would run away and Gremlin chased him down, no matter where he ran. They knocked stuff over and made a mess as I looked for the water gun. Simon is yowling in pain as Gremlin’s biting the crap out of him– tufts of orange hair are everywhere. It was pretty obvious that one cat was more to blame for the fray than the other. I did my Voice of God(TM) voice and cornered Gremlin, letting him know I was Not Going to Stand For This, Since I RUN THIS PACK, DAMN IT and then went to check on Simon. Fortunately, I couldn’t find any real injuries. Just a lot of loose, spit-soaked hair. He was meowing softly when I was petting him, like he was saying, “Mo-om, I didn’t do anything, and he just started it, wahhhh” and for some reason, I had to smile. I was angry, but somehow a cat fight is a lot less traumatic than a dog fight. And since both of my cats are total characters, they both played up their ‘sweet sides’ to me when I was with either of them.

I might have to work with Gremlin on some things. He’s just so rough with Simon and Hurley! The other night, Hurley was barking and wrestling with Gremlin because I was operating the juicer. He always does that… something with small appliances makes him go ‘attack’ a cat, usually Gremlin, since Grem’s always game for it. Anyway, they were doing that, but suddenly Hurley yelped a couple of times and did a different bark–an angry bark– and I realized Gremlin was biting his ear pretty hard. “Hey!” I yelled. Gremlin stopped and looked at me like, “What?” and Hurley turned and ran away, tail between his legs, because he erroneously assumed the “Hey!” was for him, too.  (That dog HATES when I raise my voice with the cats! He could be across the room, half asleep. But when I yell at the cats, and he’ll sit up, look all hurt and remorseful for something he didn’t even do, and then get up and slink out of the room. It’s kind of sad/funny and I always have to go check on him and rub his belly or something, once I am done disclipining the cats.)

“Disciplining the cats.” HA! That’s a good one. As I am sure all of you know already, cats don’t take well to “discipline.” They just sort of look at you like, “Are you done yet?” and then blink and walk away. I have never even thought about raising a hand to Hurley, yet I have spanked Gremlin a few times now when I catch him in the act of something bad– like biting me for no reason.

Oh, well. In the end, though, I know that Gremlin and Simon aren’t REALLY fighting. They really just get carried away and the rough-housing goes too far. Rarely do I see a puffed-up tail, or hear a really pissed-off hiss or growl. Gremlin’s just got to chill out a little. But he is still young–only a little over a year old, by my calculations. He’s being a bad kid, tormenting his brother. And Simon TOTALLY plays up the angelic thing when it happens, too. He sounds so pitiful and sits somewhere up high, cleaning himself as if he can lick the ungentlemanly situation away. And if I talk to him, he talks back in a soft little kitten-voice. If he had long eyelashes, he’d totally be batting them at me. It’s really so funny.  

I adore that all three of these pets have such distinct personalities. Simon and Hurley are pretty similar in that they are not destructive and tend to follow the rules, and they’re more dignified than their spazzed-out little brother. Gremlin’s just fearless, and assertive, and I like to think he’s thinking, “I don’t give a fuck, I’m goin’ for it!” all day long. He’s stubborn and insistent. I kick him off the kitchen counter, he jumps right back up. And this can go on and on for several go-rounds. His facial expression doesn’t change. He’s just like, “I wanna see what you’re doing, so deal with it.” All the time.

All three of the pets love to be around me, and will follow me from room to room to some extent. But Gremlin is unstoppable about it. He is ALWAYS wherever I am, when I am home. Always. I watch TV or use the computer, he’s on my lap or perched on the back of a chair behind me, purring into my hair. I’m cooking or at the sink, he’s up on the counter repeatedly, or sitting on the floor right behind my feet (yes, he has been stepped on a couple of times). I’m in the yard, doing something, he is in the window the whole time, reaching up on the glass and meowing as he watches me. While I’m in the shower, he’s sitting on the toilet lid, listening for the water to turn off so he can hop in and inspect the drain. And of course, every single night, he sleeps right next to me, sometimes face-up-against-my-face, even.

I know, I’m one of those people who talks incessantly about her pets. Sorry.

I just enjoy them. Plain and simple. I love them.

My bloody Valentine*

Hey, Blog. What’s up, man? You been just chillin’ here, or what?

I haven’t been into writing much about myself these days. I’m not journaling or free writing, and I’m certainly not blogging as regularly as I had been. It’s fine. My interest in purging and analyzing my thoughts is at a low right now.  I’ve had other things to do.

* – This blog title cracked me up. I’m all about puns today.

Last week I found out I was heading down the anemia road when I tried to donate blood. My hemoglobin has consistently been dropping since my first donation in July. The blood services has a cool website where you can see your own health records from each visit– everything from BMI to cholesterol. My first Hg reading was 15.9. The next, 14.3. Third time, it was down to 13.3. And then finally, last Tuesday, it dropped to 11.9.

You need to have an Hg reading of at least 12.5 to donate blood. They said I could reschedule in a couple of days, since it could change by then. So that’s what I did. In the meantime, I tried to eat more poultry and things like raisins, and cut back on calcium and added more citrus to my diet (calcium can block iron absorption, whereas citrus can help it). And, for good measure, I added iron supplements I bought in Target. I only had time to take it twice before my next appointment, but I was confident that I’d probably raised my Hg level quite a bit.

On Thursday, it was 12.6. Just enough to donate, but not anywhere near where I’d hoped it would be. I’ve since learned it takes more than a couple of days to make changes like that! Your body has to get used to it and everything.

So, I donated. It was a routine donation, until it was over and the nurse said to hold gauze on my elbow and raise my arm. I did this, and I got dizzy, lightheaded and knew I was going to pass out. I didn’t expect it at all, and there was no warning! I hadn’t even stood up yet. The nurse came rushing back over to me when she saw I was in distress, and tilted the chair back some my feet were up higher. I closed my eyes and couldn’t open them for a few moments… that must have been when I lost consciousness. It was short, but it made me feel so horrible. My hearing was all wonky and my head felt wobbly.

My blood pressure had been healthy when I came in: 128/82. But it had dropped all the way to 89/51! For the next hour, they kept me there, slowly lowering the chair, giving me Gatorade (YUCK) and putting an ice pack at the base of my skull. They took my BP several times, and it did slowly rise back up to somewhere in the 113/something range, and at last, I felt OK to drive home. Fortunately the blood bank is just two minutes away from my house.

At home, I felt like hell. A headache set in, I was dizzy again and had to lie down, I was nauseous… ugh. All night, I was shivering and sweating and generally felt sick. It stunned me that this happened. I’ve given blood three times since July (this was #4) and not once did I have a bad reaction. Not even a little lightheaded. And this time, blam. It kicked my ass.

I’ve since come to some conclusions about this. One is the most embarrassing one: I don’t think I ate enough of a dinner before my appointment. See, I’d had a very late lunch (super healthy too–salad with lots of grilled chicken) and when I finally got home, I wasn’t too hungry. So I drank a big glass of V8 juice and had a handful of cashews, followed by lots and lots of water. I felt great. But I should have known better and erred on the side of overeating that night. Duh. I haven’t admitted that part to anyone but my sister until now.

The other thing is I don’t think I should be donating every 8 weeks, like I had been. They called me to set up donation appointments after the first donation, and I’d just go “OK” and set it up. Plus, I was enjoying the rewards points I was racking up. You get points for each donation and you can redeem them for a CD or DVD, t-shirts or movie tickets. I was saving up my points for two free movie tickets. (I have now earned them, of course.)

Here’s the thing about donating blood, for me: It feels like something I really should be doing to help people, because I can do it. I know lots of people who can’t donate because of illness, medication, recent tattoos, and fear of needles. I don’t have any of the issues that would prevent me from donating. I’ve come to think of it as my contribution to human society. I do so much for animals, but I’m not as charitable when it comes to people. The whole marathon-thing made this clear as day to me, and changed my perspective. I started to really care about helping people who were ill. The blood donation, for me, is painless and quick, and I feel great about doing it.

For now, though, I am cutting back in a big way. Three times in one year is PLENTY, and way more than most people do at all. I’m going to aim for that instead of once every 8 weeks like they were asking. That’s too frequent, and I think that’s one of the reasons my hemoglobin was dropping so much. Too frequent donations is one of the causes contributing to anemia.

So, I am done for awhile now. I’m thinking maybe by the summer, I’ll consider it again. I need to be smarter and not say yes just because someone is asking me to do it. Lesson learned.

In house news, I finally finished putting my master bathroom together this past weekend. I got all the doors painted at last (4 coats of paint on each door!) and installed all the new hardware and a couple of switchplates. Then I had to clean, and MAN, did that take a long time. So much dust, dirt, dried paint splatters and general filth from moving around in the shower wearing sneakers… it took a detailed, on my hands and knees kind of cleaning session. It was painful, but it had to be done. The result was excellent, though. In the end, my bathroom came out very nice! I only have one more thing to do, and that’s get a storage tower/cabinet for the wall behind and over the toilet. But it feels so great to be finished. At last.

As for my room, well… I still have to put away all my clothes into the new furniture! What kind of moron buys new furniture and takes about a month to move clothing into said furniture? Me. And then I have to give that room a good cleaning, too, and finish decorating. That will be the fun part! Last night I hung my new white curtains (after ironing them for over an hour) and put the new duvet cover and sheets on the bed. Those two changes made a HUGE difference! Now the room is starting to look the way I’ve been wanting it to. Finally. I will take photos very soon, of course. I’m excited to show off the before and after photos of that room, for sure. It’s been a pig sty for almost three years now. Now that it’s not? PARTY!

I do still need to order and get blinds installed in the bedroom window and the kitchen window. They’re going to be at least $100-135 each, and I think I should get them professionally installed so it’s done right. I hung all the other blinds in the house, but it was very tricky given the weird metal windowframes in this house, and these blinds are longer (78 1/2 inches wide) than the others.

Then, I have to get the handyman to come out and put the chandelier on a dimmer, install some outdoor lights that are DESPERATELY needed, and possibly build a prefab metal shed for the yard. I *could* build one myself with a little help from someone to hold the frame and metal sheets still as I screw it all together, but I don’t want to. I did that already with X, and it was a suck-ass waste of a day.

The final thing is painting the damn exterior. I want to strike a deal with this guy my sister used to work with to paint the high parts of the house and fix/seal the trim, and I’ll paint the lower half of the house myself. Otherwise, it will be at least $1K to get it all done professionally. I want to get it down to about $400 or so, if it’s possible. We’ll see.

I must do my tax return!! All of this work hinges on the tax return money. I can’t wait to see what I’m getting back.

And finally, today is Valentine’s Day.

I like Valentine’s Day because of the commercial side of it! No, really. I like the pink and red stuff, the cute decorations, the hearts and flowers, vintage-looking cards… IOW, the stuff in the stores. Not necessarily the stupid stuffed animals or heart-shaped boxes of candy, and not the dozen red roses (not a roses fan), but the rest of it. The stuff you can get for yourself because it’s fun.

I have quite enjoyed the previous three Valentine’s Days I have had by myself, and I’m enjoying this one, too. When I was younger–high school, college — I bought into it and felt bad if I was single on V-day. Or if my boyfriend at the time did something lame, inadequate or just brushed over it, I would feel all let-down and disappointed.

And when I was married, I was the one who was never good enough. He’d expect flowers, too… and always outdid me with whatever we did for one another. I’d get him a card, he’d get me TWO cards, and then get annoyed at me for not getting him two cards. That kinda thing. Believe me, when the marriage finally ended, I was so relieved to be away from that kind of bullshit, it forever changed how I feel about being with a man, overall. And it’s why I don’t date, really. But yadda, yadda, you know all that already.

I feel bad for people who do take this day seriously and are alone or unhappy. I wish they could have the kind of relief and peace I feel on this day, because it’s a blessing. Plus, all the pretty stuff, all the candy, all the things you want to do… it can be yours! As Donna and Tom say on Parks & Rec, “TREAT YOURSELF!”

 

 

Just another of my lame weekend wrap-up posts

I fell of the ficti0n wagon for a good week or so. I know it’s because I was painting and working on my room and bathroom, mostly. And at work, I’ve been pretty busy without a lot of downtime to spare, so not much has happened on my book or to get my latest short story cleaned up and ready for the writer’s workshop. Oh yeah, the workshop. Riiiight. I haven’t gone to that either.

I don’t like that this happens– that I get preoccupied and pulled away from my writing like this. I need to try harder to make it happen, even when things are busy or distracting. I think about Stephen King, who said in “On Writing” that he would designate one hour in the morning every day to sit and work on his writing back before he ever published anything. If I recall, he would write in the laundry room in the tiny apartment he and his wife shared… he’d write on top of the washing machine. The important thing was making time for it, and DOING IT. I’ve long known that I need to make my writing a habit, by scheduling it, and yet I never do it. I wait for the mood to strike and carry me away. I don’t think that is enough anymore. I need to make it happen.

I’m thinking about this today because I woke up dreaming this morning. I was dreaming another one of my very vivid, detailed dreams that could very well lead to a new story. The dream was so compelling that when my alarm went off, I hit snooze for 30 minutes just so I could dive back into the dream and keep going. And then I did that again a couple more times, with 10 minute or 20 minute snooze intervals, until I finished the dream. This meant that I got out of bed ONE HOUR LATER than I should have! Good thing I took my shower last night.

I wasn’t even late to work, which was cool. Sure, I am having a very, very bad hair day, but that doesn’t matter. My dream was worth it.

So what was my dream about? It’s long and complicated, but here’s the main idea: I was a trainer working at a SeaWorld type park. It wasn’t SeaWorld, it was a competitor park that didn’t have as much money. Anyway, one of the whales started messing around with me one day in the pool. It was licking me, in the face, and trying to keep me underwater. It was playing, but it was scary. (In the light of day, I know I dreamed about this licking-me-on-the-face thing directly because of Gremlin, who constantly does this to me and wakes me up. It hurts! His tongue is painful!) I knew I wasn’t in real danger for some reason, because I understood the whale’s behavior somehow, but it did get me, the trainer, thinking about the wisdom of having people in the water with these giant animals all the time, and the next thing I knew, I had turned into an outspoken activist. I quit my job, and began talking to the media and other groups about the mistake we were all making by keeping these animals in captivity like this.

The next part of the dream was darker. The corporation that ran the park kidnapped me to shut me up, and they basically kept me prisoner for about 8 years. There were other trainers there with me, and in a creepy as hell twist on how these marine parks treat their animals, the trainers were forced into a breeding program themselves to create kids who would grow up to be trainers. They’d take the babies away and raise them. Yeah, it doesn’t make sense, but that’s how dreams work sometimes. I found out I had a daughter who was afraid of going in the water, and they were threatening to kill her because of it. So the rest of the dream was me trying to find her and rescue her.

The dream’s not perfect, but it was an interesting idea in some ways. I think there is something there that can be mined for a story. It would be cool if I found multiple ways to create fictional stories that get my own personal agenda across. Sure, my main book is meant to speak about the evils of captivity and using animals for science, but what if I wrote other stories (short, probably) that were even more direct in illustrating the sense of horror I feel about marine mammals in captivity? That would be pretty cool. I’d like to almost make people sick of reading my stuff because they know it will be unsettling.

What’s wrong with me, that I want people to be disturbed by my writing?! Is this a normal thought for a writer?

Mehh, whatever. It’s what I think, and what I want to do. I want to stand up for something and use my one talent, writing, to do it. Besides, the stories that challenge and disturb people are the ones that people REMEMBER.

I wish I didn’t have to do work-work today. So, I guess I’d better get busy with that, so that later on I might have some time to do fun stuff. Because if I don’t finish my work article here in the office today, I have to bring it home tonight. Yuck.

In other news, nothing much is going on. I spent the weekend doing errands and things around the house, like weeding the backyard and cleaning the kitchen. I didn’t finish painting, after all. I had a headache that appeared to be the start of a migraine on Saturday, so I took some Goody’s headache powder, drank a green detox juice and napped in the afternoon and as a result: headache was gone! It’s these sinuses again, damn it. I can’t seem to clear them out. Grr. Anyway, Saturday night I went to my sister and BIL’s house to watch the Tim & Eric Billion Dollar Movie, which is OnDemand right now. We ordered pizza and had beer. I loaded up. WHEW.

Sunday morning I didn’t feel so great. My stomach was rejecting that pizza and beer, so I was stuck in my house until it all passed, so to speak. I missed the dog adoption event I was going to help out on. I made two more juices to help things move along and they did help quite a bit. By dinner time last night, I was feeling pretty normal again. I walked Hurley and worked on my work article (and got a lot done!) in between checking out the Puppy Bowl and trying (and failing) to see any commercials during the Superbowl. Oh, and I went to the carwash and the grocery store and it was awesome… no lines! No one was out on the road! Superbowl Sunday is definitely the best day to be out doing things. 

Time to get down to bidness, as they say. This article ain’t gonna write itself. I wish it would.  

 

Breaking in the 4th belt notch

I’ve had a super busy week… at work, anyway. Lots of articles coming in that needed copious amounts of editing; three articles I had to write myself (and I have only gotten two of the three completed so far!); meetings, emails, phone calls and various interruptions slowing me down… at least Friday got here relatively quick this week.

Yesterday I had to stay home. I’ve got a strange kind of cold or something that’s causing lots of congestion but not a lot of mucus. I know that’s kind of gross, but it’s true. I can’t seem to get the congestion OUT. I don’t even know where it all is, exactly. Mostly my sinuses, for sure, but I think it’s moved to my chest, too. It blows. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon, once it works its way out of my system, but in the meantime, blehhhh.

I do think I’d be even sicker if I weren’t eating healthier. I know how I get, and how my upper respiratory infections typically run their course, and if this is the worst of it, I can take it. It’s just got me feeling really exhausted and, well, I am a mouth-breather right now. I have Breathe-Right strips and they’ve definitely helped me sleep at night.

Last weekend I did paint my bathroom, at last. And it came out well! I also painted my three bedroom doors, but it looks like I need a third coat of paint on them. I bought a small roller because that might help me make the coat even. It’s not easy painting dark wood doors white. I know the primer helped, but it’s still ridiculous how much work it can be. I’ve often wished that I’d just bought new slabs and had them installed… they’re usually already primed and would probably only need one or two coats. But whatever. This is cheaper. I’m still using the same cans of primer and trim paint I’ve been using for everything else in the house, so I haven’t had to buy anything but new door hardware. I cheaped out on getting new hinges, though. I have left the ‘aged bronze’ hinges alone, just painting carefully around them. Way easier. Plus, it would be super difficult to re-hang a door by myself, let alone three doors.

This weekend I want to get a lot accomplished again. I want to finish those doors and get the hardware up in the bathroom. I have a new towel rack and TP holder from IKEA, and my sister’s giving me one of her shower curtains. Next, I want to move my clothes into the new dressers. I need to put a new lightbulb in my closet and pull up more weeds and spray the rest. Finally, there’s the usual vacuuming and dusting bullshit to be done.

I wish I’d had the energy to do some of this stuff yesterday when I stayed home. I didn’t even leave the house once. In fact, I didn’t even get dressed. It was lame. What a waste of perfectly good time. Feeling sick definitely sucks.

I didn’t lose any new weight this week, probably because I’ve been having some bad food again. I’m already working on ‘resetting’ my habits so I don’t get tempted to have stuff like chocolate and pizza. I did well with pasta this week, only having it a couple of times and when I did, it was a small amount. Fortunately, I haven’t gained anything back… so I still feel good about what I’m doing. Today I was able to use the 4^th notch on my belt, which is a first. This belt is totally worn out around the 2^nd notch. I’ve started to wear out the 3^rd notch, but that 4^th hole has never been used. It was actually tough to get the prong through there! But it’s where the belt needed to be to hold my pants up. It’s such a cool feeling having loose pants. Even if it does mean I need to cinch everything up with belts, and it probably doesn’t look that nice, either. I am waiting a little longer before I buy new pants. I did find a brand-new pair of size 12 jeans with the tag still on them, hidden in the bottom of one of my drawers. I’m at 14 right now (down from 16, my all-time high), and I’m excited to be back in size 12s. It’s been at least 3 or 4 years since I’ve been that size!

I saw the coolest thing on Pinterest the other day—take two glass jars, and label them “pounds lost” and “pounds to go” and then get the number of marbles that would represent how much weight you want to lose:

Ideally, I want to lose a total of 50 pounds, beginning from my original weight. That will get me to my ideal weight for my height. So, I want to get 50 marbles and throw 13 in the “pounds lost” jar to keep me visually motivated and reminded of the changes I have made each day! How awesome it could be to watch the marbles gradually all move to the other jar… It just seems like a fun idea.

I’ve finally begun to feel serious about the weight loss part of this. I’ve had great success with reducing migraines and feeling more focused when I am working, so my primary goal is already happening! Now, I can shift some dedicated focus to the next phase, which is shrinking myself. I haven’t wanted to get too wrapped up in the weight loss side of this, but it’s kind of tough not to, when you see your clothes are fitting different and people are commenting that you look thinner. It’s exciting! The last time anyone mentioned “hey, did you lose weight?” I was in high school. In my experience, the best way to lose weight is to not obsess about it, but just have it happen as a side-effect of doing something else that’s good for you. Senior year of high school, I lost weight because I started being active in gym class every day (I had the goofiest friends to mess around with, and by senior year, the gym teachers didn’t care if we played the games properly or not, so we ran around making up our own rules and acting like morons) and I had my first serious boyfriend, and when I thought of him, I got butterflies in my stomach and honestly couldn’t eat a lot. I still remember that feeling of just taking a few bites of something and being like, “ugh, that’s enough” and running off to do whatever I was gonna do next. I went down to 120 pounds that year and I looked and felt amazing—and it all happened without me trying. I mean, OMG, look at me, for Christ’s sake! How the hell was this ME?! This is the result of not giving a shit about eating, and running around like a complete spazz all the time? Interesting:

So, I am taking that approach again, for the most part. I don’t have a passionate love affair going on right now, but I can get out and enjoy the nice weather more and keep busy so I don’t have lots of time to just sit and eat a pile of food. I think over the years, I definitely got into the boredom-eating thing. Or rewarding myself with something bad or a huge dinner after a stressful day. But when I stop to think about this, it’s surprising how illogical that is. So you had a bad day, and you want to comfort yourself. But what’s the deal with comforting yourself with crap?! Why wouldn’t you treat yourself to something totally good for you; something that will actually make you feel better from the inside out? Now, I am beginning to want a healthy, fresh juice when I am stressed out. I don’t want to jinx it, but yeah, it’s happening.

“Because it tastes good” isn’t enough anymore. A lot of things taste good. But the taste part only lasts a few seconds when the food is in your mouth. The rest of its time is spent being broken down by the digestive system, with your organs searching for the nutrients to process and instead being hit with massive amounts of sugar, salt, fat, chemicals, etc. I’m surprised people don’t have fucked-up pancreas more often, for instance. Those things work overtime thanks to the crap we eat. And that’s just one organ that’s doing things it wasn’t built for, evolution-wise. Once you start thinking logically about what food is, and learn what the human body actually needs, all this stuff starts making sense.

I know I am talking about this a lot. I know it’s because it’s been a huge change in the way I live, so it’s kind of a big deal on my mind these days. I’m still trying not to be pushy or preachy about it, though… well, not in person, anyway! I’m still going out to eat with friends and family, and I’m not just ordering the salad every time. I don’t want to be one of those people who apparently want a medal for eating healthy. (How many vegetarians do you know who like to brag about tofu and weird vegetables and that they haven’t had meat in three years, ad nauseum? I know more than a few, myself.) I just want to do my thing, not get any shit for it, and that’s the end of it.

Actually, that’s all I want for life, in general. Don’t we all?

(PS: I still have that prom dress. Wouldn’t it be rad to be able to pose in it one more time? Maybe I will!)