Where Am I & Who's Snoring?

Oh geez, I could remember what I wanted to write about before I took that nap, now all I can remember is that I wanted to get some thoughts down before I forgot them.  I should have skipped the nap. Then again, I may be one step closer to being able to answer the question, "what came first, the pillow face or the drool?" I'll give you a hint - the crease on my face is 3 inches long, the diameter of the drool is 2 inches.  Now I need a mathematical equation for rate of creasage vs droolage.

I have never been a graceful napper. I complain and pout on the way to bed, I stay awake way too long once I'm there, and then I sleep as if I had been boozing it up. 9 times out of 10 I wake up because the setting sun is blinding me and the swimming with Freddy Krueger dream was starting to get weird. And then begins what I like to call the Red Queen Hour, where the answer to all questions is "Off with their head!"

My mother, aunt and grandfather are/were spectacular nappers. All of the world's problems could be solved with a nap. My mom is able to conjure dreams of flying and fuzzy bunnies and kittens. I conjure geometry classes and hitmen. I am never teaching the geometry class but I do get to change if I am the hitman or the hit.

All I can remember now pre-nap is that Kate and Marg have both requested more writing from me, and the combination of the two was finally enough to inspire me to do it. And then the dreaded nap and now all is forgotten. That trick is really only handy if there is a fight I want to quickly get over, an expensive shopping receipt whose location I would like to forget or half a mushroom pizza that I would like to pretend is not in my stomach.

Ugh! This is so frustrating!! Off with their heads!!!! (not Kate and Marg- I love them both and wish them happy flying bunny dreams)

note:
Karl came up with mathematical equation.
crease times drool divided by pillow time equals honey
It looks better on paper.

Autofocus

My oh my but a long time has gone by. Almost a year since my last entry. I'm feeling a bit rusty already. I had originally put off writing anything for a bit because I was going to be taking a weekly pottery class and I thought zaniness would ensue and funny stories would be abundant. Instead, I missed a few classes because of a cold, an ice storm, and almost worthless legs from too many leg strengthening excericises perscribed by a maniacally happy chiropractor. I knew I was going to skip my next class because I had to ask Karl to help me get up from the toilet. And of course I'm on loads of water pills.

Turns out I have little natural skill at throwing clay. On a wheel or at the wall. I was behind everyone else in my class and did not come close to using up all of my clay. Ugh, just remembered that I left several pieces there. I really should have thought twice about taking a 3 hour long class that was 45 minutes away.

 

In the spring Karl and I went to Scarborough Fair. It was his first time there. Karl had never before seen so much inappropriately used synthetic material. Ever. I rode a small elephant, pet a goose and came away with the plague. Yep, it took the doc about a half second to diagnose me with shingles. A few very painful weeks later and I was no longer going braless in Walmart (I was quite popular during that time) and then the hottest summer ever began. I know I got out into the world, I know I had some fun, but right now all I can remember is the heat. Oh, and Karl went to Germany with his dad for 3 weeks just for the hell of it. Very cool.

  

I had a master plan of leaving Texas for the summer, but a nagging feeling and constantly rescheduled doctor's appointments kept me in town. Doctor's visits came back all good, and the nagging feeling turned into a lost filling and a root canal. I would have much rather been elsewhere, but it was nice to get those things out of the way.

 

Now we're heading into autumn, Karl has taken up running and finished his first race in 18 years this past Saturday. From his age group (40 -44) he was #16 out of 48 other men. He's really excited about his next race, and the one after that. He's also looking into taking some classes for fun at the local college. If I were to guess, I would say on the history of anything, but that man does often surprise me.

 

I am in a bit of limbo. My birthday is in one month and if I do not renew my massage license that I have not used in 5 years, then it expires. To get my license back I would have to retake the state exam. If I renew it then I will need about $450 for this and last year's fees and a couple of online ceu courses. Money that I do not have pretty much because of that art class, Scarborough Fair (with a couple of days in Austin), several doctor's appointments, a root canal and a replacement pair of eyeglasses. Somewhere in Paris, Tx my glasses are having fun.

 

I really hate to let that part of my identity go, but it has been 5 years and I was a massage therapist for only one year. One really great year. It feels like life is lacking a bit of focus lately. I'm not a fan of wanting to be told what it is I should be doing in life, or at least aiming for, but just now I kind of wouldn't mind a little help.

  

I think the only thing for it right now is to finish my now cold chamomile tea, sleep well and enjoy whatever tomorrow brings.

TV Made Me Do It

There is nothing like having pizza for dinner and then remembering just as you crawl off to bed that you did not take your evening pills. Skipping them means you'll be out of breathe halfway through brushing your teeth and then you'll curse having such a high bed. Taking them means you'll be up every 2 hours of the night. Outside I can hear the storm moving in, the cold wind is blowing. I think I have to vote for skip the pills. Not interesting in checking on just how cold the toilet seat can get tonight.

The Superbowl starts this weekend, so you know what that means. Tons of commercials for Velveeta and pizza, both of which I now have wicked daily cravings for. In an effort to keep from having to buy new pants, I've gone for a cross between abstinence and adjustment.

The Velveeta that I bought is in the smallest package available and is made from 2% milk. Never mind that I am about to finish the last of my second package in a month. I have been trying to stick to vegetarian pizza, performing a kind of surgery on the slices to remove as much extraneous bread as possible and also only eating the pizza that I really really want. My favorite pizza is a solid half hour out of my way to anywhere, so that helps.

Tonight we tried a local place that I have read some really good reviews for. One person from Chicago gave the deep dish 4 stars. The pizza we got was awful. The only thing I can figure is that the reviewer ate only at Domino's and Cici's. I take that back, Cici's is better than what we had tonight. I think tonight's pizza has saved me from any cheese addiction that winter and the Superbowl have brought on.

I may be skipping the evening pills, but I am most definitely taking a tummy pill. I really hope that my diet tomorrow puts rabbits to shame. I also really hope I don't have that dream about a giant deep dish pizza and his mushroom sidekick are trying to eat me. Not that I have had that dream, I'm just saying if it's going to happen, then I think tonight is the night.

Don't Wanna, Can't Make Me

Karl and I recently took off to Galveston for 24 hours. The day before his 2 days off, I realized that we could either blow town or take care of a greatly mounting list of to-do's. I had Karl's consent and a hotel booked within a half hour.

We left early enough the next day to have a late lunch close to the seawall. We topped our po' boys off with an afternoon nap that lasted until dinner time. Ah, the life of the lazy. Personally, I kind of hate naps, so mine was a bit shorter than his. I knew I had to resist the temptation of jumping on the bed, so I decided to be just a bit responsible and actually write out my Don't Wanna Do and Want To Do lists. Sadly, the former was much longer. To be fair, the Want To Do list would have been longer, but the "bad" list was so long that it made me a bit blue and good times got harder to think of. We enjoyed the rest of our time in Galveston and the list was not spoken of once. We were so good at ignoring the list that we continued our silence on the topic even after we got home. And for the next couple of days.

My dreams were just about the only thing that kept the list from being totally discarded. Lots of stressful action sequences. I have played characters in Crouching Tiger, Lord of the Rings and some version of King Arthur crossed with the Matrix.

Actually, I think the Lord of the Rings was a shout out for my medicine. I was Frodo and another random hobbit was telling me how the ring was so awful and how they would never be able to bear that burden. I was thinking, yeah, but if you knew how bad it really was, you would carry it, too. Thankfully, flolan themes rarely invade my sleeping hours. Flolan is invasive, but the PH is debilitating. It's worth it to carry the medicine.

3 days have gone by since the list's conception, and it has only grown. Tasks include paying the house taxes before the end of the month, calling a friend that I haven't talked to in such a long time, not for the purpose of chatting, but because I have something that only they can repair, calling various repairmen for non-vital but comfort improving repairs, and I truly cannot remember anything else right now without getting out the list which I have hidden somewhere. Okay, I know where, but you'll never get it out of me.

I have so much time to take care of these things, you would think I would just get them done instead of prolonging the avoidance. Anyways, I have stalled too long today to get anything done, and I'm fighting off a cold and the hot toddy I have been sipping on is insisting on me getting some sleep now. I hope I get to have a Narnia dream tonight.

When The Moon Hits Your Thighs

Winter is upon us and so are the pizza cravings. I would say that I am just trying to put on a little winter weight, but squirrels have taught me that I was supposed to have done this during the fall and I should be fasting right now. Instead, all I can think of is pizza.

I used to be satisfied with any ol' pizza. This was back in my elementary school days. I didn't care what kind of pizza it was, I just wanted the pizza. Probably more than french fries, probably less than a lollipop jewel ring. It wasn't until I heard my dad saying that Chuck E Cheese's pizza tasted like cardboard that I started to think about what the pizza really tasted like. I still ate whatever was put in front of me, but those slanderous words would haunt me the rest of my life.

Oh so slowly I began to turn against fast food pizza. The crust was too thick, or the sauce too sweet or our house was the last on the delivery route and the cheese had already begun to revert back to plastic. Still, the cravings persisted, although with less frequency.

Pizza restaurants have renewed my cheesy interests. Thin crust pizza truly made when you order it. Hawaiian pizza is awesome, but lately I have had a love for a tomato sauce pizza with cheese, mushrooms, basil and thin tomato slices. Big fat basil leaves would vastly improve the fast food world.

Then, last Christmas I went to a cheap pizza buffet with family. Perfect way to fill up kids high off of present opening. I turned my nose up to most of the pies and had decided to stick with water when a hot fresh pepperoni jalapeno pizza was laid out in front of me. One slice and I was hooked. Half a pizza later and I was ready for a nap. And a gallon of water.

It took a couple of more visits and a friend getting a bladder infection from overdosing on bread to realize the pizza really did taste a bit like pepperoni jalapeno cardboard. Finding my perfect pizza restaurant sealed the deal. Unfortunately, the golden pie is 30 minutes away, which is close enough for an indulgence every month or two but far away enough to give me time to decide that I do want to cook dinner.

Wow, I have to stop writing this now or I am going to have to make a pizza out of... celery. I have got to learn how to make my own pizza and then keep those ingredients onhand. Maybe Karl wouldn't mind driving a half hour out of his way when he comes home tonight. Maybe I should make a vegetable stew - I've put on 3 pounds of weight this winter, most of which I suspect is my Italian addiction. Enough! Vegetable stew it is! Or maybe barbeque.

The Squeaky Wheel Lives Forever!

When we moved into our first house in Fort Worth, I said that the first thing I was going to do was to rip out that awful 100 year old green carpeting on the 3 steps leading to our bedroom. Someone had a some point glued on a strip of really thin grey carpeting down the middle of the steps. I don't know why you would want to spend an extra cent to keep that stuff looking new. I am quite sure that particular carpet came off the line looking old. The carpet staid until the dog couldn't stand it anymore and ripped it out herself. Pretty much all in one go. 4 years had gone by and this was the project I vowed to take care of first.

We are in a new house now, and again, the first thing I was going to do was to fix the Banshee Door. Actually, first was going to be to install gas logs in the fireplace. This Christmas we gave our house the gift of gas logs. Now I just need to make the call to have them properly installed. To bad that phone isn't just a couple of inches closer.

Back to the Banshee Door. It leads to the master bathroom which at 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. is my water closet of choice. I could use the one off of the living room, but this increases my chances of stumbling over a furry animal or shoes that have (yet again!) been left in my pathway. Okay, usually the shoes are mine. Anyways.

If the door was just squeaky that would be one thing, but ours contains a family of at least 3 banshees. It happens the same every night, twice a night. I carefully pull the door open, but the first and youngest banshee has been waiting for me and starts the alarm. 3 inches is not wide enough for me to squeeze through, and so I open the door wider hoping the sound does not get worse. But no, the second banshee has awoken, adds her voice to the first and then wakes up the third sister. Shrieks are coming from the hinges so loudly and shrilly that the dog who sleeps outside 2 houses down starts barking. Karl is always awake when I crawl back into bed. All who hear the banshee cry are cursed.

Somehow, the only time I can remember to buy WD-40 is when I have just opened that awful door. Sleep erases all memory of their hauntings. Today is pretty much the first day that I have been able to retain what occurred during the night and I know what must be done. My only chore for the day is to go to the hardware store, buy the WD-40, possibly get it blessed, and then apply it to the door. Please, please, let me remember to do all of this one thing today.

Update: January 31, 2011
WD-40 has still not been bought. It is now time to go to bed. The Banshee Door Survives another night.

Bubbly And Bobby

The women of my family are notorious lightweights. 2 glasses of champagne and we're completely silly. My aunt, my mother and I all spent this New Years trying to finish off two bottles of bubbly. The bubbly won, but really only because we accidentally froze the last part of the last bottle. We tried warming it up next to the fire, but once we finally noticed that it was ready to drink, the bottle was too hot to pass around. There was dancing, laughing, Mom kept running into me saying that it was a legal hockey move. We watched Ladyhawke and then wobbled off to bed.

No one drank to the point of crying, although there was reason enough to do so. All three of us were apart from our men, all for different reasons.

New Years has never been one of the important nights for Karl and I because retail has beat it out of us. Stores still close early enough to be able to enjoy the celebrations, but champagne guzzling does not mix well with early rising. Karl's team is all younger than him and so we both prefer to try and give them the morning off. My sadness came from being away from home. He had come to see me just a few days earlier, but still, I was missing our quiet days together rocking on the porch with Coco and Jane close by. There is no place like home.

Mom had not seen her husband since before Christmas and New Year's is a very big deal for them. His family is in Canada, hers are in Texas. Spending New Year's together has been a wonderful compromise to avoid travel on Christmas day. Besides, starting the year together is kind of an ultimate date night.

And then my aunt, Ruth Ann. Her fiance had died suddenly just four days earlier. She had last seen him Monday morning, but had been unable to be close to him when he died. And so from that night till a week later, we staid close to her.

It's surprising how events around a death speed up, as if the world is trying to fill a vacuum that the person left. The phone rang constantly, arrangements were being made, dismissed and then remade. Unwanted drama upon unwanted drama. The brother that no one wanted to talk to, the windshield that got bashed in during the night, the unexpected house guests. All 7 cats went into high gear naughtiness mode. So many flower vases to knock over onto original copies of documents, so little time.

I have been home 5 days now, and time has been so slow here that months must have past by at my aunt's house. Today is Bobby's memorial, and it's a beautiful blue skied day.

Just a bit ago I was sending a message to someone that had the word "prayers" in it. Sometimes my forgetfulness affects my spelling, so I starting typing "prayers" in the searchbox on my computer, hoping that the word did not have 2 a's in it. I barely had the word spelt when the dropdown box gave me my suggested spelling along with another word. It read "Prayers for Bobby".

Turns out there is a movie with this title, but still what are the chances that on a yahoo searchbox the first spelling suggestion for my word is a full phrase with the name of the man who we just lost?

Coco and Jane are napping in the sun, the sky is blue, I have a warm blanket wrapped around me and I am sending my best wishes of peace and happiness to Ruth Ann.