This might be why I'm unmotivated/unable to do much. Gordo is such a snuggler, I've had to implement a snuggle schedule just to get anything done.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Snuggle Monster
This might be why I'm unmotivated/unable to do much. Gordo is such a snuggler, I've had to implement a snuggle schedule just to get anything done.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
moving
So...I'm moving.
I know that's common knowledge, but it hit me yesterday when I was making Tetris towers of taped up, labeled boxes in the office and all of a sudden there was just a small stack of miscellaneous stuff I didn't know what to do with but ended up dumping in a box that I pulled from the ever-shrinking stack of empties:
Holy crap. I'm actually doing this.
Anyway. The "OMG" moment passed, and I went out and had a lot of fun hanging out at James and Kim's for one last Rifftraxing before I move. Fast forward to today. I did some more packing, this time in the living room. I emptied out the coat closet (which was really more a strategically packed and delicately balanced blanket/Christmas/games closet) and boxed everything up. Mantle? Empty. The only things left out and to be boxed are my 2 lamps I need for seeing and the DVD player. I took all of pictures off the walls and promptly ran out of bubble wrap, so I stopped packing for the night.
Now I'm surrounded by newspaper, bags of shredded paper, and packed boxes, and all I can think is, "I'm really doing this." My timing is awful. I know that. I worry about the economy. I worry about finding a job quickly, and worry about what I will do in the meantime, if one does not materialize quickly. I worry that relying on the support of my family is going to come with a heavy blanket of guilt, not one that they throw on me, but one I throw on myself. I worry about them. I worry that this isn't the right thing to do, not because it's not what I want, but because of the timing. I worry about other things, like am I going to be a good enough friend from farther away, because history has told me that I won't be. And that really sucks, because I love my friends.
Underneath all of the worry and the self-doubt though, I am excited. I'm happy. Happy at the prospect of being jobless, penniless, and home-less (but not homeless)? No, not really. That would be crazy. I'm happy about where I'm headed, because eventually I will get there. Happy because I'll be able to see my family a lot more often than I do now, even once I'm out of their hair. Happy that I'll get to spend time with old friends again. Happy that a visit to/from Chris won't require 20+ hours of driving, a business-related excuse, or dealing with airlines and airports and throwing toiletries away. Happy at the prospect of starting over professionally doing something I actually enjoy, even if it means making less money. Excited at the prospect of possibly going to graduate school. I feel like I haven't been able to be excited or express enthusiasm about all of these things, because being excited about them means not caring about all of the things I know I'm going to miss about being here. And also because talking about how excited I am (or will be, once the employment situation resolves itself) seems a bit like saying, "So long, suckers!" to all of the aforementioned friends I love and miss already.
On the topic of things I won't miss...this week is my last official, full week at work. I will be so happy to be rid of that place. I guess I didn't realize it or admit it until I found out that they wouldn't let me work from Texas, but I've hated working there for such a long time. I've looked at my coworkers who have been there for 20+ years and have turned into socially inept hermits and thought, "Please don't ever let that be me." While I'm not excited about being unemployed, I will be happy to be rid of LOMA and the sinking ship it is. I'll not miss the monotony, the resistance to change, or the lack of teaching employees valuable skills that might benefit them (or that they might take anywhere else). This past month has been kind of agonizing...being given a leading role on a project that I won't be around to finish. Knowing that I'm leaving has made it extremely difficult to motivate myself to work, or to care about the end result. If they don't see value in keeping me around (because, really, I could do this job from anywhere. It's not brain surgery), I don't see the value in working my ass off for them before I leave. I've had a bad attitude about my job for a long time, but the past few months it's been really terrible.
It will be nice to not be angry or disappointed when I wake up and remember what I have to do every day. I may not have anything to replace it with yet, but I will. And even if I don't for a month or so, that's okay too. Who knows? Maybe it will give me time, energy, inclination, and/or inspiration to write something that I actually want to write for a change. Maybe it will even be good. Here's to hoping.
In the meantime, I am organizing my life into boxes, color-coding and recording and labeling the contents of everything, and throwing away sentimental things I no longer see the use in keeping. Every once in a while, I have flashes of me when I was packing up to move to Atlanta from Tulsa in September 2001. I remember how ready I was to leave, and how, despite that readiness, I would wake up in cold sweats in the middle of the night from bad dreams somehow related to the terrible mistake I was making by moving. Only, it wasn't a mistake, and I knew that even when I was waking up in those cold sweats. It was an incredibly good thing for me, but a questionably smart and very spontaneous thing to do. I'm glad that I did it. I'm glad I ended up staying in Atlanta longer than I ever expected. And most of all, I'm glad that I'm even more sure about it this time: moving now isn't a mistake, even if it seems that way from the outside.
I know that's common knowledge, but it hit me yesterday when I was making Tetris towers of taped up, labeled boxes in the office and all of a sudden there was just a small stack of miscellaneous stuff I didn't know what to do with but ended up dumping in a box that I pulled from the ever-shrinking stack of empties:
Holy crap. I'm actually doing this.
Anyway. The "OMG" moment passed, and I went out and had a lot of fun hanging out at James and Kim's for one last Rifftraxing before I move. Fast forward to today. I did some more packing, this time in the living room. I emptied out the coat closet (which was really more a strategically packed and delicately balanced blanket/Christmas/games closet) and boxed everything up. Mantle? Empty. The only things left out and to be boxed are my 2 lamps I need for seeing and the DVD player. I took all of pictures off the walls and promptly ran out of bubble wrap, so I stopped packing for the night.
Now I'm surrounded by newspaper, bags of shredded paper, and packed boxes, and all I can think is, "I'm really doing this." My timing is awful. I know that. I worry about the economy. I worry about finding a job quickly, and worry about what I will do in the meantime, if one does not materialize quickly. I worry that relying on the support of my family is going to come with a heavy blanket of guilt, not one that they throw on me, but one I throw on myself. I worry about them. I worry that this isn't the right thing to do, not because it's not what I want, but because of the timing. I worry about other things, like am I going to be a good enough friend from farther away, because history has told me that I won't be. And that really sucks, because I love my friends.
Underneath all of the worry and the self-doubt though, I am excited. I'm happy. Happy at the prospect of being jobless, penniless, and home-less (but not homeless)? No, not really. That would be crazy. I'm happy about where I'm headed, because eventually I will get there. Happy because I'll be able to see my family a lot more often than I do now, even once I'm out of their hair. Happy that I'll get to spend time with old friends again. Happy that a visit to/from Chris won't require 20+ hours of driving, a business-related excuse, or dealing with airlines and airports and throwing toiletries away. Happy at the prospect of starting over professionally doing something I actually enjoy, even if it means making less money. Excited at the prospect of possibly going to graduate school. I feel like I haven't been able to be excited or express enthusiasm about all of these things, because being excited about them means not caring about all of the things I know I'm going to miss about being here. And also because talking about how excited I am (or will be, once the employment situation resolves itself) seems a bit like saying, "So long, suckers!" to all of the aforementioned friends I love and miss already.
On the topic of things I won't miss...this week is my last official, full week at work. I will be so happy to be rid of that place. I guess I didn't realize it or admit it until I found out that they wouldn't let me work from Texas, but I've hated working there for such a long time. I've looked at my coworkers who have been there for 20+ years and have turned into socially inept hermits and thought, "Please don't ever let that be me." While I'm not excited about being unemployed, I will be happy to be rid of LOMA and the sinking ship it is. I'll not miss the monotony, the resistance to change, or the lack of teaching employees valuable skills that might benefit them (or that they might take anywhere else). This past month has been kind of agonizing...being given a leading role on a project that I won't be around to finish. Knowing that I'm leaving has made it extremely difficult to motivate myself to work, or to care about the end result. If they don't see value in keeping me around (because, really, I could do this job from anywhere. It's not brain surgery), I don't see the value in working my ass off for them before I leave. I've had a bad attitude about my job for a long time, but the past few months it's been really terrible.
It will be nice to not be angry or disappointed when I wake up and remember what I have to do every day. I may not have anything to replace it with yet, but I will. And even if I don't for a month or so, that's okay too. Who knows? Maybe it will give me time, energy, inclination, and/or inspiration to write something that I actually want to write for a change. Maybe it will even be good. Here's to hoping.
In the meantime, I am organizing my life into boxes, color-coding and recording and labeling the contents of everything, and throwing away sentimental things I no longer see the use in keeping. Every once in a while, I have flashes of me when I was packing up to move to Atlanta from Tulsa in September 2001. I remember how ready I was to leave, and how, despite that readiness, I would wake up in cold sweats in the middle of the night from bad dreams somehow related to the terrible mistake I was making by moving. Only, it wasn't a mistake, and I knew that even when I was waking up in those cold sweats. It was an incredibly good thing for me, but a questionably smart and very spontaneous thing to do. I'm glad that I did it. I'm glad I ended up staying in Atlanta longer than I ever expected. And most of all, I'm glad that I'm even more sure about it this time: moving now isn't a mistake, even if it seems that way from the outside.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
10 Things I Learned This Weekend
1. I can be suckered into just about anything under the right conditions.
2. I am a lot more patient than I think I am, but I do have a limit. I hit it about 5 hours in.
3. Gordo loves me. He loves me so much that he doesn't want to share me with anyone else, and he is not shy about expressing his displeasure at the sight of me doing things like, say, showing affection to anyone else...like my poor, unsuspecting, understanding, and incredibly patient boyfriend.
4. Gordo's displeasure at being put in a kennel is best expressed by pathetically barking like mad and ripping his dog bed to shreds.
5. I'm the sheep whisperer...or maybe just incredibly lucky. Sometimes.
6. If one is going to accidentally set sheep loose in the parking lot of a hotel, one should prepare to encounter several people around who will try (and mostly fail) to help, point, laugh, and take pictures/video. One should also plan on having a sheep whisperer (me) and an untrained Australian Shepherd on hand.
7. Memphis-style BBQ is highly overrated (but maybe that's just been my experience). What I mean to say is, the BBQ in Memphis sucks just as much as the roads in Memphis.
8. Trish (the GPS)'s map update I paid $80 for isn't so much an update as it is a total fusterclucking.
9. Cracker Barrel breakfasts actually expand in your stomach after you eat them. One breakfast can be enough for a person's belly for at least 12 hours.
10. My job is over me just as much as I'm over it (HR sent out the job posting for my soon-to-be vacant position this morning).
2. I am a lot more patient than I think I am, but I do have a limit. I hit it about 5 hours in.
3. Gordo loves me. He loves me so much that he doesn't want to share me with anyone else, and he is not shy about expressing his displeasure at the sight of me doing things like, say, showing affection to anyone else...like my poor, unsuspecting, understanding, and incredibly patient boyfriend.
4. Gordo's displeasure at being put in a kennel is best expressed by pathetically barking like mad and ripping his dog bed to shreds.
5. I'm the sheep whisperer...or maybe just incredibly lucky. Sometimes.
6. If one is going to accidentally set sheep loose in the parking lot of a hotel, one should prepare to encounter several people around who will try (and mostly fail) to help, point, laugh, and take pictures/video. One should also plan on having a sheep whisperer (me) and an untrained Australian Shepherd on hand.
7. Memphis-style BBQ is highly overrated (but maybe that's just been my experience). What I mean to say is, the BBQ in Memphis sucks just as much as the roads in Memphis.
8. Trish (the GPS)'s map update I paid $80 for isn't so much an update as it is a total fusterclucking.
9. Cracker Barrel breakfasts actually expand in your stomach after you eat them. One breakfast can be enough for a person's belly for at least 12 hours.
10. My job is over me just as much as I'm over it (HR sent out the job posting for my soon-to-be vacant position this morning).
Blogging
My attempt to keep this blog as updated as my "real" one has failed miserably.
Since my last post here, I've decided to flee Atlanta and move to Texas. While I was visiting the family in Tulsa in May, I had to put Chester, the best dog ever, to sleep. A week later, I got a rebound dog. He's kind of a butthole, but I would feel awful taking him back at this point. Oh, the things we do in the midst of our grief. A day after I adopted this disaster of a rebound dog, I was hospitalized for a kidney infection. That was great fun, especially the 'seizures from high fever' thing. Now, all is back to normal, or as normal as it can be.
I'm looking around my apartment, trying to pick a place to start packing. I'd like to be as organized for this move as I was when I moved to Atlanta. To do that, I need to get back to my anal retentive, obsessively organized roots. My life needs to be in order. It's been chaotic for far too long.
Since my last post here, I've decided to flee Atlanta and move to Texas. While I was visiting the family in Tulsa in May, I had to put Chester, the best dog ever, to sleep. A week later, I got a rebound dog. He's kind of a butthole, but I would feel awful taking him back at this point. Oh, the things we do in the midst of our grief. A day after I adopted this disaster of a rebound dog, I was hospitalized for a kidney infection. That was great fun, especially the 'seizures from high fever' thing. Now, all is back to normal, or as normal as it can be.
I'm looking around my apartment, trying to pick a place to start packing. I'd like to be as organized for this move as I was when I moved to Atlanta. To do that, I need to get back to my anal retentive, obsessively organized roots. My life needs to be in order. It's been chaotic for far too long.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
canine acupuncture
This is what it looks like:
Chester loves our new veterinarian (Dr. Sasher at Loving Touch Animal Center). I love her, too. I hate that she's now the third vet I've seen since the beginning of the year, but thankful to have found her and happy that she presented me with a wide variety of options, both traditional and holistic. I love that she blocked off an hour of her time to sit and talk to me about his history, mast cell tumors in general, dietary concerns, herbs and supplements, etc., before treating him rather than treating him while talking to me for 10 minutes at the most. Man, I am in veterinary love right now. I'm actually looking forward to going back next week.
So basically, here's what's happening: While she doesn't usually recommend a raw food diet for patients (because some people don't know what the heck they're doing), his diet is staying the same. I've read up about it enough that I feel comfortable doing it, and she didn't see a problem with it as long as contamination isn't an issue. We've added medications
Benedryl
Tagament
Prednisone
...and supplements
Vitamin C
Viola 12
Xue Fu Zhu Yu Tang
...to what I have him on currently
Fish oil capsules
senior dog vitamin
...to help keep the tumors under control and maybe reduce them in size/hardness. Also for now, we're starting dry acupuncture (to balance energy) and aquapuncture with Viscum Album (Mistletoe) injections once a week and will taper off to once every two weeks or once a month.
I feel so much better about this now, like someone has given me a map (or a GPS) and I know where I'm going. We have a plan. We're not just winging it or going on what millions of internet "experts" say, and I'm not overwhelmed.
I love today.
Chester loves our new veterinarian (Dr. Sasher at Loving Touch Animal Center). I love her, too. I hate that she's now the third vet I've seen since the beginning of the year, but thankful to have found her and happy that she presented me with a wide variety of options, both traditional and holistic. I love that she blocked off an hour of her time to sit and talk to me about his history, mast cell tumors in general, dietary concerns, herbs and supplements, etc., before treating him rather than treating him while talking to me for 10 minutes at the most. Man, I am in veterinary love right now. I'm actually looking forward to going back next week.
So basically, here's what's happening: While she doesn't usually recommend a raw food diet for patients (because some people don't know what the heck they're doing), his diet is staying the same. I've read up about it enough that I feel comfortable doing it, and she didn't see a problem with it as long as contamination isn't an issue. We've added medications
...and supplements
...to what I have him on currently
...to help keep the tumors under control and maybe reduce them in size/hardness. Also for now, we're starting dry acupuncture (to balance energy) and aquapuncture with Viscum Album (Mistletoe) injections once a week and will taper off to once every two weeks or once a month.
I feel so much better about this now, like someone has given me a map (or a GPS) and I know where I'm going. We have a plan. We're not just winging it or going on what millions of internet "experts" say, and I'm not overwhelmed.
I love today.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The BARF Diet
...appropriately titled, I must say. My first batch for Chester should last a good while and make my fridge smell like cow poop. Awesome. But he will feel better for it, methinks, so it's totally worth it.
BARF = Biologically Appropriate Raw Foods, for the curious. Today, instead of working as I should have been, I spent the afternoon researching dog cancer diets and supplements to help improve life quality for a dog with cancer (who is or is not going through chemotherapy). I've pretty much decided to not put him through chemotherapy or radiation treatment, so if I can do things like this to help strengthen his immune system and possibly maybe slow down the spread of cancer even a tiny bit, of course I'm going to do it.
I opted not to drop $$$$$$ on the frozen patties and found different recipes online to make my own BARF slop for Chester (this is going to be so much fun to write about). It's going to cost much less than $$$$$$ if I do it myself, because I can pretty much buy food as I normally would, but a little more of it (and maybe a few things I wouldn't normally get for myself) and grind the extra food up for the dog. Plus, it's kind of fun...except for the tripe. Oooooh, the tripe. That doesn't smell great.
On a related note, I found a couple of holistic animal care places I'm looking into as an alternative to chemo/radiation. I know the holistic route is by no means going to cure him and won't be nearly as effective as the $$$$$$$$$$$$$ treatment, but there's no way I can afford that treatment. At the same time, there's no way I can sit back and do nothing. That leaves me squarely in the middle, doing research, making my own dog food, and considering trying things like acupuncture and herbal supplements on my dog.
BARF = Biologically Appropriate Raw Foods, for the curious. Today, instead of working as I should have been, I spent the afternoon researching dog cancer diets and supplements to help improve life quality for a dog with cancer (who is or is not going through chemotherapy). I've pretty much decided to not put him through chemotherapy or radiation treatment, so if I can do things like this to help strengthen his immune system and possibly maybe slow down the spread of cancer even a tiny bit, of course I'm going to do it.
I opted not to drop $$$$$$ on the frozen patties and found different recipes online to make my own BARF slop for Chester (this is going to be so much fun to write about). It's going to cost much less than $$$$$$ if I do it myself, because I can pretty much buy food as I normally would, but a little more of it (and maybe a few things I wouldn't normally get for myself) and grind the extra food up for the dog. Plus, it's kind of fun...except for the tripe. Oooooh, the tripe. That doesn't smell great.
On a related note, I found a couple of holistic animal care places I'm looking into as an alternative to chemo/radiation. I know the holistic route is by no means going to cure him and won't be nearly as effective as the $$$$$$$$$$$$$ treatment, but there's no way I can afford that treatment. At the same time, there's no way I can sit back and do nothing. That leaves me squarely in the middle, doing research, making my own dog food, and considering trying things like acupuncture and herbal supplements on my dog.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Dear diary:
BOB and I went on a date. He kissed my cheek. Such a a gentleman! Hopefully we will go to more sporting events together and get on a kiss cam one of these days. He is swell.
(p.s. Bob is my friend Kit's boyfriend. This was not, in fact, a real date, but a post originally made here as a joke).
(p.s. Bob is my friend Kit's boyfriend. This was not, in fact, a real date, but a post originally made here as a joke).
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
hoooray, hockey tickets!
So, tonight at trivia, Bruce had several tickets for tomorrow's Thrasher's game to give away. The first set he wanted to give away were 4 seats together, and his plan was to give the tickets to whichever team got the Thrashers-related question right. Well, we *and* our arch nemeses ("Lawyers, Guns, and Money") got the question right, so he gave our teams two tickets each. The four of us (Russ, Bob, Kit, and myself) discussed who would like to use the tickets, but it wasn't really much of a discussion, as Kit and Russ both wanted to go to the Graveyard tomorrow for swing dancing instead. So, it looks like Bob and I are finally going on our "date"! :D Hahaha!
...Our date with 4 middle-aged guys who consistently beat the crap out of us at trivia (because their team won a second set of tickets later). Awesome. :) I've been wanting to go to a Thrashers game forever, so I'm actually really looking forward to it.
...Our date with 4 middle-aged guys who consistently beat the crap out of us at trivia (because their team won a second set of tickets later). Awesome. :) I've been wanting to go to a Thrashers game forever, so I'm actually really looking forward to it.
hoooray, basketball tickets!
Hawks v. Suns tickets just arrived. Must magnet them immediately so I don't lose them in the various piles of crap that are slowly overtaking the place.
Monday, January 12, 2009
upcoming birthday goings on
Just a little list I'm compiling to keep track of stuff (because the whiteboard calendar can't possibly handle it all).
Friday (Jan 23rd):
Martinis & IMAX (woohoo! Martinis for dinner!)
Saturday (Jan 24th):
I don't know...brunch, maybe?
birthday party! (for which I need to find an oversized flannel shirt...or a prom dress)
Sunday (Jan 25th):
Birthday phone call from mom (which I have to figure out how to record so it can be shared with the world)
Belgian waffles?
Hawks v. Suns game with Chris
Other possible things to do while Chris is in town, depending upon how long he'll let me keep him here:
The Vortex for burgers
Agnes & Muriel's for other nummies
Indian food (Vatica, maybe? or Desi Spice? any other good ones I'm forgetting or don't know about? I'm keeping my eye on this post...)
Snow Mountain!! @ Stone Mountain
feed the ducks @ Piedmont
Martin Luther King, Jr. Center
trivia (as we didn't quite make it there last time)
King Tut? Jury is still out...
Animal encounter @ Chattahoochee Nature Center
Dialogue in the Dark
Norman Rockwell's Home for the Holidays @ Atlanta History Center
Outbreak: Plagues that Changed History/ The Work of Bryn Barnard @ CDC
Shakespeare Tavern (Romeo and Juliet)
I'm sure I'll find more stuff to add to the list, but for now...that'll do, pig. That'll do.
Friday (Jan 23rd):
Martinis & IMAX (woohoo! Martinis for dinner!)
Saturday (Jan 24th):
I don't know...brunch, maybe?
birthday party! (for which I need to find an oversized flannel shirt...or a prom dress)
Sunday (Jan 25th):
Birthday phone call from mom (which I have to figure out how to record so it can be shared with the world)
Belgian waffles?
Hawks v. Suns game with Chris
Other possible things to do while Chris is in town, depending upon how long he'll let me keep him here:
I'm sure I'll find more stuff to add to the list, but for now...that'll do, pig. That'll do.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
i'm creeping up on old(er) age
Two weeks from today, I'll be celebrating my 31st birthday, which wouldn't normally be a noteworthy year for a person. And really, it's not for me. It will mark the passing of my 30th year which, while not entirely terrible, was not without its major ups and downs. Okay, mostly downs, if we're being honest here. In fact, 30 was kind of like the gallbladder of all years--I am just so happy to be rid of the little sucker.
I wonder if most women who hit 30 and decide to celebrate being 30 again (and again and again...) do so out of a sense of vanity, or a fear of getting older, which I just don't get. I'm happy to get older, mainly because I think the implication is that age begets wisdom and insight, which happen to be two of my favorite things. Also, I don't think I look any older than I did x number of years ago...but even if I do, what's so wrong with that?
So, again I'm happy to be rid of 30, I just wish it hadn't been so...well, gross. And depressing. I know just about everyone reading this was there along the way, but in case any one of you cool kids should want a recap, here it is. The short, G-rated version for public consumption? This is pretty much how the year went:
turned thirty
went to therapy
dad died
freaked out
job sucked
freaked out some more
marriage counseling
moved out
started recycling
exercised my social bones
got my bearings
got divorced
reconnected
visited family
recycled some more
dog tumor
best New Year's Eve in as long as I can remember
caught a fish (though this was 2009)
So, I have a message for the old and new years: Good riddance, jerkface! Well hello there, 2009! You look beautiful so far, despite Chester's cancer news*. As bad a year as 2008 was though, I have to say, it was also pretty liberating. There's nothing like stripping everything away to make a person stand up and take notice of her own life. Perhaps I should be a little more grateful, as I learned a lot about myself and what I need in order to be as happy, namely
A renewed sense of purpose and direction
More time with amazing friends, family, and other various and sundry characters
Writing
Self-discipline (health, writing, general life maintenance, budget/consumption)
I'm working on some goals to address the above list in the coming year, but I think I'll save them for a later post. This one's long enough as is.
*Sigh. I know I've said it, but I'm really not ready to let go of him. Not sure I ever will be. I'm more attached to him than I ever have been to an animal (and rightly so, he's so heartbreakingly awesome), so it's going to be super tough. As Chris so wisely put it, though, at least this way, his passing won't be a surprise, but something I will have time to prepare for, whichever method of treatment I end up choosing next week at the fancy doggie chemo consultation.
I wonder if most women who hit 30 and decide to celebrate being 30 again (and again and again...) do so out of a sense of vanity, or a fear of getting older, which I just don't get. I'm happy to get older, mainly because I think the implication is that age begets wisdom and insight, which happen to be two of my favorite things. Also, I don't think I look any older than I did x number of years ago...but even if I do, what's so wrong with that?
So, again I'm happy to be rid of 30, I just wish it hadn't been so...well, gross. And depressing. I know just about everyone reading this was there along the way, but in case any one of you cool kids should want a recap, here it is. The short, G-rated version for public consumption? This is pretty much how the year went:
turned thirty
went to therapy
dad died
freaked out
job sucked
freaked out some more
marriage counseling
moved out
started recycling
exercised my social bones
got my bearings
got divorced
reconnected
visited family
recycled some more
dog tumor
best New Year's Eve in as long as I can remember
caught a fish (though this was 2009)
So, I have a message for the old and new years: Good riddance, jerkface! Well hello there, 2009! You look beautiful so far, despite Chester's cancer news*. As bad a year as 2008 was though, I have to say, it was also pretty liberating. There's nothing like stripping everything away to make a person stand up and take notice of her own life. Perhaps I should be a little more grateful, as I learned a lot about myself and what I need in order to be as happy, namely
I'm working on some goals to address the above list in the coming year, but I think I'll save them for a later post. This one's long enough as is.
*Sigh. I know I've said it, but I'm really not ready to let go of him. Not sure I ever will be. I'm more attached to him than I ever have been to an animal (and rightly so, he's so heartbreakingly awesome), so it's going to be super tough. As Chris so wisely put it, though, at least this way, his passing won't be a surprise, but something I will have time to prepare for, whichever method of treatment I end up choosing next week at the fancy doggie chemo consultation.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
my life is so exciting, i could probably go to sleep.
Saturday has consisted so far of:
The Tudors
Buddy snugglins
eating (relatively healthfully)
Lipstick Jungle, thanks to hulu.com (because the show is so bad, not even my DVR will record it when i ask it to)
Intervention, while drinking a glass of wine (is that wrong?)
...but the kicker...
bubble bath + same glass of wine from above + poetry (Carolyn Forché) + candles + music (Cat Power + Portishead) = could I be any more of a girl?
A good bath always gives me much needed perspective. Maybe it's something about my ears being under the water, which drowns out everything else clouding my judgment, or at least serves as a buffer from it for a little while. While my ears were under, I came up with a list of things I need to do (or things I was beating myself up about):
go back to the gym regularly, starting tomorrow (no greater motivation than taking a bath. Gross.)
stop moping about the dog
give the dog as much attention and affection as I can while I still can
stop spending money (because maybe then I could afford doggie chemo)
no more beer or wine
eat less
find a new job
pick up the phone once in a while
pick up a pen every day
I ended up pouring half a glass of wine down the drain.
The Tudors
Buddy snugglins
eating (relatively healthfully)
Lipstick Jungle, thanks to hulu.com (because the show is so bad, not even my DVR will record it when i ask it to)
Intervention, while drinking a glass of wine (is that wrong?)
...but the kicker...
bubble bath + same glass of wine from above + poetry (Carolyn Forché) + candles + music (Cat Power + Portishead) = could I be any more of a girl?
A good bath always gives me much needed perspective. Maybe it's something about my ears being under the water, which drowns out everything else clouding my judgment, or at least serves as a buffer from it for a little while. While my ears were under, I came up with a list of things I need to do (or things I was beating myself up about):
go back to the gym regularly, starting tomorrow (no greater motivation than taking a bath. Gross.)
stop moping about the dog
give the dog as much attention and affection as I can while I still can
stop spending money (because maybe then I could afford doggie chemo)
no more beer or wine
eat less
find a new job
pick up the phone once in a while
pick up a pen every day
I ended up pouring half a glass of wine down the drain.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Buddy update
Went to our regular vet today for staple removal, etc. Chester got a chest x-ray to see if his cancer has metastasized in his lungs. The vet pointed out some faint spots of something, and said that it may have spread slightly already, but those spots were so faint and uncharacteristic of cancer that it was difficult to say for certain.
She referred me to a cancer specialist at nearby super-serious pet illness clinic, and we have an appointment next week for a chemotherapy consultation. Not sure yet if that's the route I'm going to take with him, but it's something to look into and think about, depending on how much time it would give him v. what quality of life he'd have while undergoing chemo and afterward. Also, it will largely depend on whether or not I can afford the treatment (which I hate to even raise as an issue, but it is one).
So, there it is. Just some things to think about in the next several days.
She referred me to a cancer specialist at nearby super-serious pet illness clinic, and we have an appointment next week for a chemotherapy consultation. Not sure yet if that's the route I'm going to take with him, but it's something to look into and think about, depending on how much time it would give him v. what quality of life he'd have while undergoing chemo and afterward. Also, it will largely depend on whether or not I can afford the treatment (which I hate to even raise as an issue, but it is one).
So, there it is. Just some things to think about in the next several days.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Chester update
Dr. Shippman, the vet who removed Chester's tumor while we were in Oklahoma, called yesterday with the histopathology results.
It turns out, Buddy has a grade 3 mast cell tumor--the worst kind for him to have (grade 1 to grade 3). That is what we were all afraid of. She explained some of our options, but none of them sound great. Amputation, radiation, chemotherapy, etc., depending on how much it has already spread throughout his body. I'll be talking to the regular vet on Friday about those options when I take him in to get his staples removed.
Needless to say, I'm taking the news badly. I know he's old (he'll be 10 in March), but I didn't think I'd have to start worrying about things like this just yet. I'm really not ready for it. I know he's just a dog, but he's my dog, and he has been for almost 10 years. I can't imagine not waking up to his cold, wet nose and old man grumblings, along with 800 other things I can't imagine. I know I'll have to imagine these things and get used to them, but it's a really hard thing to do while he's still here, curled up next to me. It's double-hard to sit here crying about it when he's trying to do his "cheering me up" thing he does every time I'm upset or crying about something.
Mom and I were talking yesterday in the car (I was sitting in traffic when I got the news). I told her that I just wanted to make sure he was happy for whatever time he has left, whatever we decide to do treatment-wise. She said, "he's just happy when he's with you." So, I think this weekend, Buddy and I will take some walks, go on some car rides, and cuddle on the couch as much as possible. I just want him to be as comfortable and happy as he can be until it's time.
It goes without saying that I'm almost ready to recant my statement about 2009 being a stellar year.
It turns out, Buddy has a grade 3 mast cell tumor--the worst kind for him to have (grade 1 to grade 3). That is what we were all afraid of. She explained some of our options, but none of them sound great. Amputation, radiation, chemotherapy, etc., depending on how much it has already spread throughout his body. I'll be talking to the regular vet on Friday about those options when I take him in to get his staples removed.
Needless to say, I'm taking the news badly. I know he's old (he'll be 10 in March), but I didn't think I'd have to start worrying about things like this just yet. I'm really not ready for it. I know he's just a dog, but he's my dog, and he has been for almost 10 years. I can't imagine not waking up to his cold, wet nose and old man grumblings, along with 800 other things I can't imagine. I know I'll have to imagine these things and get used to them, but it's a really hard thing to do while he's still here, curled up next to me. It's double-hard to sit here crying about it when he's trying to do his "cheering me up" thing he does every time I'm upset or crying about something.
Mom and I were talking yesterday in the car (I was sitting in traffic when I got the news). I told her that I just wanted to make sure he was happy for whatever time he has left, whatever we decide to do treatment-wise. She said, "he's just happy when he's with you." So, I think this weekend, Buddy and I will take some walks, go on some car rides, and cuddle on the couch as much as possible. I just want him to be as comfortable and happy as he can be until it's time.
It goes without saying that I'm almost ready to recant my statement about 2009 being a stellar year.
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