Is this ADD? Or menopause?

I've got the attention span of a toddler. I only half listen to phone calls anymore and even after the rare one in which I'm fully engaged I forget details within a matter of weeks. I use the DVR a lot, and thank God they exist because I have to re-watch things at least twice before I finally grasp what the hell is going on anymore. I want to speed-read books like I used to, but if I try then I can't tell you what the hell the book was about. I don't seem to need 8 to 9 hours of sleep anymore. Five or six is about it. No matter how cool the house is, I'm overheating in the wee hours of the night. Not "drenching the sheets" hot, but hot enough to wake myself up. I lose crap all the time and it's damned annoying. Every time I clean up and organize a space, I can never remember where I put something when it apparently made perfect sense to me at the time I was straightening up. And I'm already bored with this topic.

Oh Damn, I Am Such a Slacker...

...as it pertains to my blog. I was at the Totally Awesome Thanksgiving Baccanahlia at my Bro and SIL's place and her mom was there and we were chatting. [By the way, I love her and she loves me back and I really wish she'd move here but that's for another post]. So anyway, she says to me, "Did you let your blog die? You haven't posted anything since what, August 30th?" I told her no, surely it hadn't been that long! As soon as I got home I fired up the iPad to check. Lo and behold, she was right. I had written a post in late October but never published it. Damn. Terry, thanks for calling me out about my blog and I will try to do better. Promise.

Is it Autumn yet? Please?!?!?

I gotta say, this has been just a hellacious summer for me.  Granted, it could be worse.  I could live in Texas.  But Georgia hasn't been much of a picnic.  I've been pretty sensitive to heat for many years now and even more so since my MS diagnosis. But I swear.  This summer has been the worst I can remember.  Ever. There have been days where I haven't even been able to handle the outdoors in the shade. I went for weeks at a time with not even leaving my house.  Thank God for the internet and my telephone or people would've forgotten I even existed.  Talk about a hermit, holy cow.

The past couple of mornings have been in the sixties and I feel like I've died and gone to heaven.  Labor Day is coming and I sincerely hope that'll mean the relentless heat will be winding down soon.

A little rain would be nice, but I don't want to be greedy.  Other places (read: Texas) need water worse than I do.  As long as it's not too hot for me to go out, I'll water the stupid plants myself.

I read it on the internet so it must be true. Right?!?

My friend Jeri posted a worthwhile message about something she found on an MS forum which is blatantly untrue.  A good read.

A Facebook Funny

My friend Christine had this as her Facebook status this evening. It is beyond perfect so I blatantly stole it.

"I saw this on another friend's post and I couldn't resist....WISDOM FOR SINGLE LADIES.....in the Bible, Ruth waited patiently for her soul mate, Boaz. While waiting on YOUR Boaz, don't settle for ANY of his relatives: Brokeaz, Poaz, Lyinaz, Cheatinaz, Dumbaz, Drunkaz, Downlowaz, Cheapaz, Lockedupaz, Goodfornothinaz, Lazyaz or Marriedaz! And especially his third cousin Beatinyoaz...PLEASE all you amazing single ladies…wait on your Boaz!!! :)"

Ran Across a Word I Used to Know and Forgot I Ever Knew It Let Alone Used to Use It Regularly

So I get the latest issue of New York Magazine and there's a little section on summer shoes.  Specifically, espadrilles.  Remember in the late '70s - early '80s when they were fashion necessities for all the young preppies?  While my clothing sensibilities have always leaned toward grunge [pre-Kurt Cobain and the Seattle music scene it was actually called "sloppy"], my sister was all about the preppy.

In my early twenties I worked for a guy who owned a couple of Dottie Smith and Pappagallo oh hell, another word I'd forgotten about stores in Georgia and Florida. It was there where I became well-versed in preppy fashion.



So, now those stupid words are going to be floating around inside my head for at least the rest of the day.  Yay.

BTW, when tracking down links for this post, I found seventeen hundred forty-nine thousand preppy-themed blogs. It appears that even though the brand names have changed, the lifestyle carries on...yikes.

Speechless

So I'm chatting with this person [which I'm known to do].  The situation doesn't matter.

THEM:  YOU have MS??
ME: Yep.
THEM:  My [insert noun here] died of MS.
ME [out loud]: Oh my, I'm very sorry to hear that.
ME [silently]: And why exactly the hell do you tell me that, asshat.




Thirteen years after diagnosis and I still have no earthly idea how to respond.

The Bacteria and the Traveling Lump

You know, part of the reason I don't see a doctor on a regular basis is because they can always manage to find something wrong with me and sometimes I am just. not. in. the. mood.

Two and a half years in the clinical trial [for the best MS medicine eva], and giving up what felt like copious amounts of blood and urine every three months [not to mention the EKGs, PFTs and MRIs], I figured if something untoward was going on I'd find out about it.

Well I met this LPN who has partnered up with an MD and opened a 'wellness center' barely a mile from my house. I generally would rather visit an LPN or a PA than an MD - and the price was right for someone without insurance - so I decided to stop in for an overall physical and girly check up.

I'm glad I went because the visit and exam was as delightful as one can be given the whole speculum part of the thing; and I left there a little more educated.  The first thing I learned was I can have a monstrous UTI with the only symptom being a stiff back.  I don't think of myself as particularly stupid but I really thought there would be more noticeable things like stink or discoloration or itching - you know, something that would really get my attention.  But no, just a mild backache. Sure I was tired as hell but hello, I have MS and I'm on a drug that lowers my heart rate and BP a little.  Sure I was having some trouble with my gait and muscle fatigue in my legs but hello, I have MS and it's 7,000 degrees outside.  Anyhoo, a blood test and a dip stick indicated a urinary tract infection so antibiotics were ordered and dear Lord, I feel like a different person.  In a good way.

The second thing I learned was that, given enough manipulation, a fibroid in the breast can actually be relocated.  Seriously, for years I've had this one long fibroid that grows and shrinks depending on my level of caffeine intake. If my tata where a clock this thing would stretch from 2 to 4. I pointed it out to the LPN who apparently felt the need to mash on it for what felt like twenty minutes; an hour later that little bastard had reshaped itself into a macadamia nut and taken up residence in between 12 and 1.

Of course I'm going to continue with the appropriate diagnostics and treatments and shit - and I really don't want to sound like I'm being flippant or anything - but I know my girls and they have been very high maintenance for my entire adult life and I'm really. not. in. the. mood.

By the way, if you find yourself relocating to Alpharetta, GA and you don't have medical, check this out.

I'd Rather Have MS than Children.

So I have this neighbor.  She's really, really sweet, from the mid-west, in her early thirties with three kids under the age of 12.

She hosted a Pampered Chef party a few weeks ago which I didn't attend but I placed a product order online for something I used to have but somebody broke it so I've been without for a couple of years.  I love Pampered Chef products.  Have for years.  But getting the stuff, either online or an in-home party, takes forfuckingever.

So I waited a month (!) and called her. She was out of state with her kids visiting her side of the family and was coming back last week and she'll call me when she returns and will get me my thing which has been in her garage apparently for a couple of weeks.

Friday 7/29 she'll come by around 7:00pm.  Late that evening, she apologized, she got busy and rescheduled.
Saturday 7/30 she'll come by at 3:00.  I get a text at ten-something that she's sorry, things got busy and she couldn't get by at 7:00 (?).
Sunday 7/31 she's supposed to be coming by today.

What keeps interrupting her and throwing of her schedule?  What do you think? Fricking needy, life-force-sucking children. In case you're wondering, no I'm not sitting around here waiting.  She has my phone numbers and each time she told me she'd be coming I asked her to text me when she was on her way.

There are no words to properly express how happy I am to not be a mom.

I Got Nothin'

Here, read this. Use the potty first or you might wet yourself.

http://www.fetchmyflyingmonkeys.com

A Message to Facebook-ers

If you send me a friend request and don't add a note telling me who the h*ll you are, you will be ignored.

If I look at your page trying to identify you [just in case you didn't send me the note referenced above] and you have over 1000 friends, you will be ignored [Really, how can one possibly keep up with that many people on Facebook].

If I know you and already know we have *nothing* in common, I will probably ignore you. If I don't want to offend you I will send you a note to very nicely explain why I'm not going to accept your request. If I don't even like you, you'll get nothing.

This is how I roll...

Do you *really* want to get married?

This came in an email from my friend Mark. He got it from his niece. I have no idea what original sources this was cobbled from, but it really is laugh out loud funny.

Happy Monday!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

You have choices in life:
You can stay single and be miserable,
or get married and wish you were dead.
__________
At a cocktail party, one woman said to another,
'Aren't you wearing your wedding ring on the wrong finger?'
'Yes, I am. I married the wrong man.'
__________
A lady inserted an ad in the classifieds:
'Husband Wanted'.
Next day she received a hundred letters.
They all said the same thing:
'You can have mine.'
__________
When a woman steals your husband,
there is no better revenge than to let her keep him. Amen!!!!
__________
A woman is incomplete until she is married. Then she is finished .
__________
A little boy asked his father,
'Daddy, how much does it cost to get married?'
Father replied, 'I don't know son, I'm still paying.'
__________
A young son asked,
'Is it true Dad, that in some parts of Africa
a man doesn't know his wife until he marries her?'
Dad replied, 'That happens in every country, son.'
__________
Then there was a woman who said,
'I never knew what real happiness was until I got married,
and by then, it was too late.'
__________
Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.
__________
If you want your spouse to listen and
pay strict attention to every word you say -- talk in your sleep.
__________
Just think, if it weren't for marriage, men would go through life thinking they had no faults at all.
__________
First guy says, 'My wife's an angel!'
Second guy remarks, 'You're lucky, mine's still alive.'
__________
'A Woman's Prayer:
Dear Lord, I pray for: Wisdom, To understand a man , to Love and to forgive him , and for patience, For his moods. Because Lord, if I pray for Strength I'll just beat him to death'
__________
AND NOW FOR THE FAVORITE!!!
Husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop with their nine children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and the nine kids are able to fit onto the bus.

So the husband and the blind man decide to walk. After a while, the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick of the blind man as he taps it on the sidewalk, and says to him, 'Why don't you put a piece of rubber at the end of your stick? That ticking sound is driving me crazy.'

The blind man replies, 'If you had put a rubber at the end of YOUR stick, we'd be riding the bus, so shut the hell up.'

Wait. What?

Holy shit, it's the middle of effing JULY already!  I am so sorry to the three people who actually read this mess, as well as to the few special people whose blogs I actually read.  I've been remiss in reading and commenting as well as doing any writing of my own.

I'm a little scared by the fact that my calendar is filling with lots of to-dos all the way into fracking Labor Day weekend, my God.  I think I finally understand my father now when he tried to explain to me as a kid why time flies so, so fast when one is an adult.

Didn't see how that was possible then.  Getting it now.  Damn.

Whatever, Who Cares

June been bery bery busy to me.  Can't even *tell* you how many times this month I've thought, "Oh, I gotta blog about that"!  Then I don't get around to it and now I'm either sick of it myself or have forgotten why I thought it was worth a blog post to begin with. 

The Atlanta Thrashers were sold to a mega-rich consortium of Canadians.  Good for the team, bad for us fans because these rich a-holes want to actually have the team IN Canada, the bastards.  It's all over the web, google it if you care, I finally stopped crying about it just a couple days ago.

Clarence Clemons, Bruce Springsteen's sax player and BFF for nearly 40 years passed away last weekend.  It's all over the web, google it if you care, I'm still to weepy to even want to go there on my blog.

Novartis Pharmaceuticals flew me to Orlando for 2 days of training to become a speaker for Gilenya, their new-to-market MS pill.  Made over 20 new friends that weekend and had a rollicking (read: exhausting) good time.

Hubby repainted our deck which means we're going to have to start hosting cookouts and shit.  I love seeing our buds in a relaxed environment and all, but man there's a lot of prep (read: cleaning) to do around here first.

So this weekend I have one friend's surprise birthday party, visit to another friend in the hospital then visit a third friend who is currently undergoing radiation therapy for tongue cancer, which leaves him with enough energy to socialize for about two hours a week.  Oh yeah, and attend a fundraiser for a local charity.  Oh, and work for a few hours Saturday morning.  Oh, and do some software upgrades to two electronic devices.

Ha!  Let's see how I do...

  Rich people are not the cause of a robust economy; rich people are the result of a robust economy.  #RebuildTheDream via @TheCloris

Brave? Me? Not hardly!

So here's what level of Space Cadet I can be.  The drug study I've been in for over two years now - and the original reason I began this blog - is OVER.  I'm DONE.  I've been RELEASED from the cage and returned back to the world of the uninsured.

Interesting things I learned during this include 1) study patients are treated with a whole different level of respect than the average patient, 2) others think you're brave for being a lab rat and 3) human trials are a significant time commitment.  Oh.  And 4) while I have no regrets I will never do another one.

Regarding lesson #2:  You want to know Brave, talk to someone in a Phase One trial.  Now that's Brave (notice the first letter capitalization).  Phase One and early Phase Two is when they determine if the drug is gonna kill you fast.  I was in Phase Three which for this particular drug was done in three iterations.  I was in the third iteration of the third phase. At that point I think the pharmaceutical company was just killing time until the FDA would review their request for approval.  Not every trial works the same, obviously.  I'm just talking about mine which - in case you were wondering - is the first-to-market pill to treat multiple sclerosis - Gilenya.  I'd put the trademark thingy after the name if I knew how in hell to do that but it is owned by Novartis.

Does it work?  My opinion? OH HELL YES, I haven't had an MS flare-up since I've been on it and I don't have to be stuck with a needle to deliver it and the disease is pretty stable and I'm not dead, so yayfuckingrah. 

CAN I GET AN AMEN?!

Lookee what I did!!!

My very first ever in my life scrapbook page!

Today's dilemma and a question

OK so I have two dogs, right?  And they are very good dogs for the most part.  My primary complaint is - and always has been - that one of them [Maggie] is horrible on the leash.  She's a tugger and I'm sure everyone who has ever had a dog knows what I'm talking about.

Because she's so hard for me to control, I've just stopped walking her.  And you can forget my trying to walk both of them together!  Bo, whom we rescued when he was probably five years old, was trained extremely well by his original parent and is very well behaved on a leash.  Unfortunately, Maggie's bad behavior is rubbing off on him and he's getting less and less easy for me to handle.  So yeah, I don't walk him either.  The only dog I've had that I've been able to handle on a leash was Wags but he had to go and get sick and die on me the bastard.

So what we have now is two overweight dogs and a frustrated mommy.  Does the husband help?  No.  His answer is I must be doing something wrong.  So my response has been, "Fine, then help me walk the dogs.  You take Maggie and I'll take Bo and lets go for walkies."  That conversation has been repeated multiple times a month FOR THE PAST FOUR YEARS.  I cannot even tell you how many times he starts the [weekend] day with, "Let's take the dogs for a walk today", but then doesn't get out of the damned bed until noon.  I cannot tell you how many times I've said to him, "Honey, my energy level is better early in the day, I can not/will not go outside and walk the dogs when it's eighty or ninety degrees outside."

So I've been interviewing professional dog trainers to help me get Maggie to where I can comfortably walk her.  Everyone I spoke to came to visit [for free] to meet with me and the mutts, gave me their training recommendations, fees, etc.  Believe me, they are damned expensive.  Hubby started yelling at me when I told them what I'd been up to, repeated the same lecture about how I'm not doing it right and he'll work with me every evening starting tonight.  Let's just say I'm not holding my breath and I haven't canceled the lesson [my money, not household money] I've scheduled for next week.

I am alone with these dogs for the vast majority of each week, including weekends.  I'm tired of waiting for him to make time for myself and the dogs.  If it costs me money, I think it's a sound investment.  Am I being unreasonable wanting to train my dog to walk with me in a way that is best for ME?  What are your thoughts?

I can't even come up with a title!

Talk about your ADD man, my brain has just been all over the place today. Hop on...

The sometimes cool part about having a right pinky finger that wants to spazz is when I accidentally open a link that lands me on a great blog.  Just found this one, she's awesome.

The sometimes shitty part about having a right pinky finger that wants to spazz is when I accidentally open a link that lands me on a great blog to remind me just how lame mine is.

I need a new layout for my blog.  Blogspot has been extremely uncooperative with me every time I try to change my layout and I can't decide if I want to a) start all over and dump my posts into it or b) start a new one and just link this to it or c) shut up and live with it.

Remember that show on A&E or TLC or wherever called "Clean Sweep"?  I need that.  I need Peter Walsh and a bunch of strapping young kids to come over and empty the contents of my GARAGE on to my driveway and help me with the Keep, Sell, and Toss piles.  Then, do the same thing in the offsite storage unit that we're paying close to $200 a month for because my husband can. not. part. with. any. damned. thing.  Then, the rest of the house.  Every inch.  Really. In my fantasy, hubby'd be out of state visiting his mother for like a month and I'd have like a dozen bodies at my beck and call so I could get this job done. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of my own shit to get rid of too, but his is teetering on the edge of a diagnosable mental illness.  I'm not lyin'.

I used to enjoy making greeting cards with the pretty papers and stamps and inks and embellishments, etc.  Over the years multiple sclerosis has just wrecked my fine motor skill in my hands and there are some things I just can't do for shit anymore; so I've decided to start directing my [meager] talents to Scrapbooking.  This weekend, some gal pals and I are gonna hook up a couple of times to work on scrapbook pages and I'm really looking forward to that.  The coolest think about 'scrapping' is I don't have to finish the whole thing at once; there are no due dates, they're just for me. Besides, I have THREE BIG BOXES of photographs that need new homes.

I have this uneasy feeling I've forgotten to pay a bill.

Finally decided on the gift for my nephew's impending high school graduation.  Now I need to find the birthday gift for a niece whose birthday was nearly a damned month ago (jesus).

Believe it or not, I've been working on this post for a couple hours, stopping and starting.  When I'm not here I 've been taking care of business.  I'm a multitasking fool today and am extremely pleased with myself.  All my responsibilities have been handled so now I'm going to eat something and the rest of my day is going to be spend doing stuff I like to do.  Not what I have to do.  Sweet!!

Happy Mother's Day!

If you have an answer already, don't ask the damned question, ok?

Husband: What are you thinking for dinner?
Me:: I've got the fixin's for beefy noodle soup, how does that sound?
Husband:: How about chicken scallopini?
Me:: I don't know how to make chicken scallopini.
Husband:: Oh, you can figure it out. Google a recipe.
Me:[Silently]: Oh, f*** you.

He Says/She Says

Scene:  Me, sitting at the dining room table a/k/a my workspace.

Hubby: I only ask you to do TWO THINGS around here!  Stop leaving the cat food lids in the sink and keep your gun near you at all times and you can't manage to do either one!!

[Really? So I don't have to cook, grocery shop, do the laundry, clean the bathrooms, clean the litter boxes, feed the animals, etc? Cool!]

Me: Honey, for every cat food lid you find in the sink, there are at least two that I've already thrown out.

Hubby: And you don't get it, you just don't get it! You ALWAYS need to know WHERE the gun is, HOW you'll get to it and WHAT to do with it!!

Me:  Honey, I always do know where it is.  Because I don't move it I can't lose it.

DUH!!

Talk of the dog

Talk of the dog

Sit. Stay. Read. Laugh.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

A beautiful day for a neighbor, would you...just drop dead you cheap-ass, whiny diva?

Yep, spring is here, so that means the annual bitch and moan fest is taking shape.  See, I have been Chair of a neighborhood committee that is responsible for our swim/tennis property. I've been on this committee for, I don't know, FIVE MILLION YEARS or something.  Trust me, I don't do it for my own ego.  Just like every neighborhood in the world that has an Association, people generally hate us invisible Board or Committee members who force them to behave responsibly.  I know, right?  Go figure.

Anyway, we have two tennis courts, one of which is buckling because of a nearby tree whose roots have grown under the court area and broke through the surface during the few years of drought the Southeast went through.

This facility is cost-shared between us and another neighborhood less than 1/4 mile away, with combined homes of about 165 (not all of whom pay because just like everywhere else we've had plenty of people losing their jobs and either fighting off or heading headlong into foreclosure).  Along with the tennis courts comes a nice-sized clubhouse (great room, tiny kitchenette, exercise room and his and hers bathrooms with sinks, toilets and showers), and a swimming pool with a 3-room little building to house the pump room and his and hers bathrooms with sinks, toilets and showers.  Next time you're at a public pool, look around at what's there for you.  Toilet paper and paper towel in the bathrooms.  Trash cans with bags.  Water in the (clean because the county inspects us every year to the tune of $350) pool. Pool furniture (chairs, loungers, tables, umbrellas) that's not falling apart.  Gas grills so you can picnic.  Cut grass.  Pleasant foliage.  No ants.  You see where I'm going here?  Maintaining all that stuff ain't cheap.  Each home pays about $200 per year towards our operating budget (which is probably about half of what we all pay our neighborhood Associations in dues).  We've managed to survive each season fine if nothing significant breaks.  We were even so tight with spending for several years, we've managed to save up the money to replace the heat/air in the clubhouse when we need to which will probably be soon because that unit was installed around 1987.  We haven't asked for more money from the two neighborhoods in like ten years. Because we can make do.

But we can't fix that tennis court.  Because we've priced it.  And it will cost close to $50,000 to get rid of that tree and replace the entire court area.  [And that assumes we could even get permission to remove the stupid tree because apparently there is a teeny, tiny stream back there that some government dildo has designated a wetland and, therefore, protected.]  Since out of 165 homes I can count on one hand the actual tennis court users - all three of them -  I'm thinking we won't get approval for an extra $330 per household to fix the stupid courts.  While I know "one should never assume", I do believe I'm correct on this issue.  We've got one good court.  Use it and like it, 'kay?

So, lady who came up my driveway without notice and said, "Every time we use the tennis courts the net is sagging and we have to re-tighten it.  We don't mind doing it, but could you maybe consider taking some money off of our dues for us doing that?"  Really lady, are you fucking kidding me?

Umm...no.

Start paying me for doing this stupid job and maybe I'll start to give a shit.  Until then, you can get off my property.  And on your way back down my driveway, kiss my lumpy, white ass.

Memorizing my life's trivia will not win you a prize, so don't bother.

I literally schedule every minute of each day, including shower/primp, laundry, critter feeding times, lunch, etc.  That doesn't mean I don't multitask, it simply helps prevent me from getting off-track. Borderline anal behavior I know, but I've found if I don't do it - and adhere to it - my day will spin out of control and that really pisses me off.

No, my dear husband whom I love, I will not stop what I'm doing immediately to take an inventory of every burned-out light bulb in the house because you want to stop by Home Depot on your way home tonight.  You've had plenty of time to get light bulbs since I first asked you back in fucking January. It's not my fault that more have gone out in the last three months.

This cat that my former friends abandoned is still here and doing fine but barfs every. fucking. day. Of course she can't help it and all but that doesn't mean I find it particularly enjoyable.

Be advised, if you are an asshole when dealing with customer service people, either in person or on the phone, you will die a lonely and unloved individual.

You are not the center of the universe, none of us are.  If your parents told you otherwise, they were mistaken.  Deal with it.

If you think you are such an outstanding driver that you can text at the same time, you're wrong. Really.

Just because I work from home, neighbor/solicitor/friend/family, that doesn't mean you can show up and knock on my door without calling first, m'kaaaay? Please see paragraph 1.

OK, blogging time has ended.  Time for a shower now.

P.S I watched the first two episodes of "The Killing" on A&E this past Sunday night.  It's really, really good and, yes, it is on my calendar.

I've Got the Music in Me Today

A highlight of my week is always watching Sunday Morning on CBS.

This morning they did a piece on the songwriting team of Lieber and Stoller.  For as long as I can remember I've been a huge fan of "oldies" music.  Do-wop, Rockabilly, Chubby Checker, Dion (with and without The Belmonts), The Righteous Brothers, and so on.

The mind started to wander and I came up with a few songs which - no matter how many times I hear them - make the hairs on my neck and arms start to tingle. 

Stand By Me - the original Ben E. King version is my favorite, but the John Lennon and Playing For Change versions are nice too.

Be My Baby - I think this song was the first time the world heard Phil Spector's Wall of Sound.  I read an interview with Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys where he said the first time he heard this song he was driving and had to pull over with the power of Ronnie Spector's voice.

If Ronnie Spector had been a 14-year old boy, she would have been Frankie Lymon. 

This Magic Moment - Jay Black had one of the most beautiful voices I've ever heard.

Darlene Love - Christmas Baby Please Come Home in the early 1960's and All Alone on Christmas from the 1990's.  The Wall of Sound is all over these two songs; and the later one also has the E Street Band!

Bonus: Brooooooooooooooooce. Not an oldie, but it sure is a shiver-inducer. On the studio recording of this song, Bobby Hatfield [the cute Righteous Brother] is singing backup.

Are You Serious: I May Never Be Allowed Back In The UK Again

This is the way my blog looks in my fantasy life. Check it out but make sure you pee first so you don't have an oopsie!

Are You Serious: I May Never Be Allowed Back In The UK Again

Spring is almost here...

...and I'm skeered. The past couple of days have been almost jaw-droppingly beautiful. T-shirts and jeans. Blue skies, with nary a cloud in sight. Nice breeze. Sounds wonderful and really is, I suppose.

But somewhere close is a slight rumble; the rumble of heat arriving. Deep South, sticky, wet heat. Not looking forward to that part of the season at all.

My dad's job brought us to Georgia in 1977. July 3rd to be exact. When we arrived it was raining, and continued to do so all day. It was the next day that we arrived at our new home. We weren't moving in right away because the moving van was going to take a few days to get from Buffalo, NY to Marietta, GA. But the woman my father was married to [a.k.a. psycho-bitch] wanted to clean the place to her satisfaction; despite the fact it was a new home and the builder already had a cleaning crew in it.

While she was maniacally cleaning, she wanted all of us out of her way. We couldn't actually go anywhere, we just needed sit around and not touch anything. And no, we couldn't help because we never could do it right. Pick any verb to substitute for "it", didn't matter. We were a bunch of sloppy retards I guess.

So remember, the majority of our stuff is still on a truck. Including furniture. Forty-eight hours prior we had been in New York where temperatures rarely saw 85 and our summer clothes, even at their lightest weight, were all way more than what the South requires. Oh, and for reasons I don't remember now, we could not turn on the a/c. All the windows were open, but unfortunately [and what 33 years here have taught me] there is very rarely a breeze in July. And it's humid. With lots of tiny flying things that like to bite. I spent quite a lot of time then in the middle of the family room floor in a spread-eagle position under the ceiling fan, sweating and panting and bitching. And I didn't even have MS yet!

Not really sure where I'm going with this. I was just going to mention how great the weather is today and how I'm not looking forward to late Spring and I just vomited up a memory from 1977.

Wait. Isn't it a sign of senility when one can remember the long past but not remember a phone call from last week? Oh, dear...

Monday Cuteness

My dogs are slugs who should be embarrassed to be shown up by a Jack Russell.

Over It

Finally, I am in the last three months of this drug study for Gilenya.  All my penultimate and exit appointments have been made for each of the doctors/facilities involved.  I've entered everything in to my calendar and I see there are three visits (multiple tests) this month, one visit a week for three weeks.  April is going to be easy, just one visit to one place.  May has three visits again, this time over two weeks.

While I'm pleased to have participated over the past two years, I am so. bloody. sick. of. doctors. offices.  And MRIs.  And eye exams.  And Pulmonary and cardiac tests.  And Dermatology visits that always involve something being sliced off. And Neurology exams.  After May 16th - my last and final day - I don't want to see any doctor of any kind until 2012.  Seriously.

How I spent my weekend

Friday: Date night at the new, nearby gun range. My husband went by there after work. Neglected to mention it to me. Was I heartbroken? No, that's not something I yearn to do like he does, but if he'd told me he wanted to go I certainly would have gone with him. He thought he'd told me. Whatever. Jerk.

Saturday I slept until 11:45. Have no idea why; I didn't realize I was that tired. Shortly after getting up, the hubby went to the bank to learn he'd majorly fucked-up. It cost him $17,500. Don't ask. Needless to say, he was a real treat for the rest of the day. Jerk.

Today the hubby slept until 10:45, and arose in a foul mood. Probably mourning the $17,500 fuck-up from yesterday. He surfed the web until about 2:30, showered and is gone again. Jerk.

This is totally not what I thought marriage was like. I'm not angry or upset, just surprised and I think a little disappointed. It's a good thing I was single for as long as I was; I like having, and am very comfortable with, alone time. And I still have a lot more of it than I'd always imagined a married woman to have, which is kind of weird.

Sensation Seekers?

Once or twice a day I visit MSNBC.com and scan their headlines to see if something looks interesting.  Today, this one caught my eye.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/41630170/ns/today-entertainment/

So I clicked on it expecting to see a Top 5 or Top 10 list of movies too scary to watch. Well, the article actually talked about why some of us are attracted to scary or disturbing movies, and labeled us as high- or low- sensation seekers. 

I didn't need to read the whole article before determining I am a low-sensation seeker.  Whatever.  But it got me to thinking how much of that could be MS related.  Since my diagnosis, it has become more and more important for me to have as much quiet around me as possible.  A nice thing about working from home is I can control ambient noise - I don't have to have a radio or television on all the time.  I like sunny days because I like not having any lights on if at all possible.  The radio in my car is rarely turned on because I just like quiet. Sharp, unexpected noises?  Oy, that is a blog post in and of itself!

Before MS, I had a headset on all day when I was sitting at my desk at the office. Thinking back on that particular habit, it's hard to imagine ever enjoying it.  But you know, that's really ok.  I'm not missing out on anything, and being more productive, no doubt.

I think I've always been a low-sensation seeker.  MS has amplified it, but it did not cause it I'm sure.

Gotta go.  Oprah's starting...

I'm in Love

Cute and wise and witty. My kind of guy . . . errrr . . . rabbit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXFv6JBdwsw

I Just Can't Make This Sh** Up

Ok, so I simply had to check in on that MS Forum that I ranted about a few months ago.  Why?  I don't know, just feeling sassy I guess.  My overall moods have really on an even keel for several weeks so I figured what the hell.

It's a good thing I did because just today they really did a huge revamp of the site and I'm glad I saw it because now I'm thinking I might not be as comfortable there anymore but I digress...

So this user posts that her urine has been smelling foul [yes there it is, out on the interweb forever] and could it be the supplements she takes? She provides a list of what she takes and wonders if anyone knows which of them causes one's urine to smell foul.  While I'm reading her post, the voices in my head are saying:

"Why don't you Google each supplement and read the frapping side effects list?"  "You're *sure* you don't have an infection, riiiiiiiiight?"  and "Why don't you skip a different one each day until your pee stops stinking up the place?"

Then I realized, in my mind  each of those sentences actually ended with "stupidlazybitch", so I just logged off.




Click Here For Images &
Stupid People Pictures - Pictures

Way too much excitement, thankyouverymuch

So on Saturday my husband had to go see a friend/client about an hour away from here.  This fellow owns a lot of acreage in a very rural part of Georgia and the guys like to do some target shooting because it's still so safe and relatively remote.  Our dogs like to go there too because they can run their butts off through all of the uncleared land.

While hubby was taking care of business the dogs were romping and playing and having a ball.  When it was time for gun play, the dogs were settled in to the back of the Chevy Tahoe with a snack and some water.  Normally, hubby closes the back of the truck, just keeping the window up so the dogs can sniff and keep an eye on things.  This time the hubby decided the dogs - neither of whom care for guns and one of whom has anxiety attacks with the noise - would remain in the truck with the back hatch fully open. [I have to remind myself sometimes how I didn't marry him so much for his brains].  So yeah, after shooting for probably an hour or more, hubby returns to the truck and . . . that's right, you guessed it . . . no dogs.  In a panic he calls for them and Bobo appears immediately, but there's no Maggie.  After about an hour of trying to find her, he decides to call me to say, "Honey, we can't find Maggie."

Maggie

 I gotta say, I was extremely proud of myself that I didn't start screaming at him for being such a loser dumba** moron f*cking a**wipe.  I could tell by the tone in his voice he was scared to death and beating himself up.  Adding my displeasure was unnecessary and would have accomplished nothing.

Over the next five hours, I created a Lost Dog flyer with her picture, and emailed it to the Friend [he earned a capital letter].  Friend put his own cell number on it and printed about thirty copies, which he and hubby posted around about a 1/2 mile radius.  Just as hour six began, a neighbor spotted Maggie zig-zagging down the street, alerted Friend to her location where she was subsequently found.

She's obviously hurting but I guess that's what happens when one is scared and walking/running around lost for 5-6 hours with no food or water.  She's rapidly returning to normal on a treatment plan of cookies, kisses and NSAIDs.

Hubby has learned his lesson.  Hopefully the dog has as well.  And if either one of them does something as bone-headed as that ever again, they're dead because I will kick the sh** out of them.

I Even Bore Myself.

I haven't blogged in over a month now.  Not because I don't have anything to talk about but because I am just so over myself I hate to write about anything because honestly, who really cares about what I have to say about anything?

But I just can't bring myself to shut it down because going to my own blog is the easiest way for me to keep tabs on the other [wittier] bloggers I like to follow.  I'm not into the Google Reader or whatever the hell it's called.  I don't want yet another fricken web page to check every day.

Out of sheer desperation, I offer this.  I changed my profile pic to one that was taken a mere week ago, the newest picture of me on the internet ANYWHERE.  If I could caption it, it would read, "I Fought the Gray and the Gray Won".  In August I'm going to turn 50.  Fifty.  Five-Oh.  I think I look pretty good.  In person.  Still take a shitty picture.  Recently it dawned on me that I no longer give a shit. Not about the age, nor the hair, nor the multiple sclerosis.  They are just little pieces of the puzzle that is Me.

All is well

Just popping in to report.  Had a nice Christmas.  Sat on my a** with an "A Christmas Story" marathon.

Had a nice 1st Wedding Anniversary the day after Christmas.  Sat on our a**es with an "American Chopper" marathon.

Had a nice NYE get together with a small group of friends.  No excess alcohol consumption by anyone - in fact, a full 75% of us did not have a drop of alcohol.  (My GOD we are getting old).  Didn't see one drunk driver (aka "weaver"), speeder, d'bag or sobriety checkpoint on the way home.

Weather's been pretty mild this New Year's weekend.  I am so much more productive when the sun is out!

Anyway, that's about that.  No drama.  No complaints.  Just peace.  I wish the same for all of you who happen by here.