Saturday, April 30, 2005
My bedroom and the library look like dance floors. I called PF and told him he could dance me around and dip me so long as he doesn't drop me. This is funnier if you know us in person.
On Thursday, during the Pergo installation, I had a chiropractic visit. I love my chiropractor to pieces. I love the massage chairs that work on your lower back before you go in for your adjustment. I love his little Havanese doggy that he brings to the office. I love that it's called Affordable Chiropractic, and means it.
I felt so great afterwards, I called up Ally to go for a jaunty walk around McKinley. She walked, I waddled. We ran into the Cockerhams and their cute little Junebug, and also my old pal Miguel (he runs Pets are Wonderful Support Sacramento for people with debilitating diseases) who was on his 6th mile. Which I think is just plum crazy. We went around once and called it "exercise", but really we were just happily chatting surrounded by dogs, ducks and squirrels.
Friday I fed baby birds at the Wildlife Care Association, and met this kid named Nayo who rocked the pigeon tube feeding (they have to be fed by tubes). My pal Moe recently blogged about an upsetting thing with a pigeon and a crow and her wacked out coworker who got all excited about the death of a pigeon, but I've never been irritated by pigeon flocks. I never understood why people KEPT them in pens on roofs in NYC, but I never "hated" them. In fact, feeding baby pigeons is SOOO cute you have no idea. They are very attachable and we try hard not to cuddle them, but they just want to cuddle and be held. And these are big babies. They are bald and black with fuzzy fuzz feathers that make them look like muppets and their soft beaks bump your hands and you get all oogy with love for them. At least I do. They make little quacking coo noises and they don't quiet down until you pick them up and snuggle them a bit. Dove babies are freaky and not as sweet, but still cute. I like all the birds we feed. I was so busy yesterday I forgot to sit down, and I had to call in today and let them know I wore myself out. Luckily they have a full crew on Saturday AM, but I still regret that I had to sleep in and miss my little birdies.
My dad and I are on a horror film kick again. Spookily spookle. I don't know why I like horror movies so damn much. They never really scare me. That said, I now think Spanish horror movies are THE BEST of all. Forget Italian, forget Japanese. My issues with Italian horror is that it's too stylistic and gory. Perfect example: Suspiria. My issue with Japanese horror is that it DOESN'T FUCKING MAKE SENSE. Not one of them. Tomie series? Ringu? Ju-On? Suicide Club? Battle Royale? Do you know why a lot of the spooky ones are remade? BECAUSE THEY DON'T MAKE SENSE THE FIRST TIME AROUND or, consequently, the second. And because they are spooky for no good reason and afterwards you say 'wtf? why was I clutching your hand? that made NO SENSE WHATSOEVER." But take any Spanish flick from the last 5 years: The Others, Devil's Backbone, and most recently Darkness, and you will be a bit terrified. For good reason. And you will THINK about it, and say 'shit, that was a good movie.' You can rent Darkness now. It gets a little annoying at one part, but it's still good. Great ending. Good haunted house creepiness, good family dynamic, good style, creepy. Anna Paquin and Lena Olin are in it as if you need more than my recommendation. We also watched Exorcist:The Beginning, which is only good because of Stellan Skarsgard (one of My People). Renny Harlin's POV on this subject sucked ass. I think the books are way scarier. I think possession is pretty much the most horrifying thing that can happen to someone (um, occultically), and that it always makes for creepiness. That said, it's way overdone. You know, it's too bad about Japanese horror films. I bet if we had some background into the cultural occultic beliefs, they'd be a lot more frightening because they'd make more sense. Or maybe I just need to have things more spelled out for me, it makes these things a more compelling and memorable watch. That's what you want out of horror films, right? To be scared?
Top Occult Horror Flix in my opinion: Exorcist (original, not the redux, Bushmills and Ginger Ale.) Rosemary's Baby (was that building not creepy enough in the first place? What about the rape scene? I highly suggest a good Beaujolais with this film.) The Changeling (anything with old fashioned independently moving wheelchairs will make my hair stand on end. That said, it's better than The Ring. This is a brandy drinking movie, or baileys and coffee.) Event Horizon (I have seen this one both sick and healthy, and have deemed it worthy of freakiness. Midori or Amaretto Sours.) Darkness (this makes the list because it's pretty fucking good for a horror movie. I liked that they didn't use tons of CGI when they could have and it's just lots of mood lighting that really works. VERRRY HP Lovecraft if you are into that sort of shite. And duh, Sangria with blood oranges.)
I may have missed a few, but I think that's a pretty good short list.
And all that said, no, I shouldn't be watching horror films these days, but I can't help myself. Besides, I only have bad dreams about Magda Goebels.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
We are getting Pergo (tm) installed in my bedroom and the adjacent library upstairs. I can't concentrate on anything. The two guys who are installing it are very serious young Eastern European men (Ukrainian maybe?)and they are very obliging about answering questions like "How long till we can walk on it?", but they won't take any cold drinks from me. I think it's a rule or something.
I slept on the too soft couch last night and kept thinking that there were "things" crawling on me, like ticks (since we've had quite a problem with the brown dog tick population lately) or mosquitoes or spiders. So needless to say, I got very little sleep, and basically stayed up all night reading a medieval mystery and a "baby names from around the world" book that was sitting on the side table. I dragged myself into my parents' room around 9 AM for some shuteye, but since I was locked in with all the dogs panting and wiggling and whining by the bed (this is what you get when you are the main Dog Feeder and Dog Parker), I just dragged myself up and took a shower and resigned myself to a fairly miserable day. At least I'll sleep fast and easy tonight, no small feat. I'll get my neck balanced at the chiropractor today, so at least I won't be in pain from my twisty freaking out all night slapping nonexistent bugs.
Speaking of ticks, I am so not a fan. I've been freaked out by bug-in-the-ear stories every since Wrath Of Kahn came out, and a recent call from my best friend regarding wood ticks found in toddler ears gave me the willies so bad I nearly passed out. I didn't pass out, though, just got a little light headed. Still, all the tick creepiness (these things come in on the dogs after romps in the south forty, it's not like they live here permanently) caused me to spend my precious last few bucks on K9 Advantix yesterday. I treated all the dogs, and am eyeballing the cats for a good session of frontline or flea/tick dips. Not that the cats have been prone to this infestation, but all 4 legged beasts are now suspect.
Speaking of cats, all of mine are relegated to the downstairs hallway bathroom, which is more cramped than my own upstairs bedroom where they at least have roof access. On more than one occasion last night I had to herd cats back into their little room. Herding cats is a good expression because it means "useless waste of effort". Luckily, I learned how to herd with tuna juice. I wrangled them back in. Wingnut is the culprit. He has figured out how to open a turn knob. That cat is frighteningly smart, or remarkably stupid. It's one or the other. He's tall enough to turn the damn thing and heavy enough to weigh it on one side, but it's so weird that he WANTS to because of all the noise and circle sawing going on. Plus he found himself on the losing side of a fight with my mom's grrl cats last night. Her snobby indedependent kitties ganged up on him and scared his sweet boy dependent kitty back upstairs to my old room, which was shockingly empty. He just seemed so sad and freaked out. He's stayed put all day, but keeps opening the door and mrowring round the lintel.
3 more hours of this and I can start moving back into my bedroom. This is both exciting and exhausting sounding. Sprained ankle and pulled belly muscles notwithstanding, and having pared down to near zero as far as belongings go, I'm just tired. But no way am I sleeping anywhere but my happy little bed tonight. That goes without saying.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Had some weird dreams. Woke up late and dehydrated. Ate some high fiber cereal with a big glass of water and managed to puke it all up. Strained a bunch of belly muscles sneezing and puking. And then I fell down.
Falling down is not the same as it used to be. Nowadays I cry like a baby when I get hurt, it's embarrassing.
My main beef is with dogs right now. See, Apache (and other dogs) like to greet you with a rawhide nubbin sticking out of their mouths like an old stogie. I've noticed this in lots of dogs, so it's not unusual. What is unusual is that Apache barked, dropped the nubbin, and it skittered under my left foot, twisted my ankle, and I went down. I grasped at the back of the sofa to stop my fall, but my foot was undeniably twisted.
I'm doing better now. This ain't the first strain/sprain I've had in my life, but it's one of the really painful ones. I trip on everything, from liquid amber tree seed balls (the evil round spikey ones) to air. But one thing is for certain, I now officially hate rawhide.
Luckily I'm not working and I'm not alone, my pathetic crying triggered my mom to come running and it dredged up some actual "caring" feelings, and she helped me to a seat and propped me up and iced my poor footie. I also air-wrote the lowercase cursive alphabet with my toes to regain mobility faster, and I'm now able to walk on this sucker as long as I keep my foot straight ahead.
I have this weird mix of energy and lethargy, and just thinking about how nice my mom was makes my eyes go all blurry with wet happy sentiment. Pathetic! I was never this big an emotional wreck. I'm more of an emotional rock, in the good way. I get angry and indignant and righteous and go out and do good things and fix problems. Nowadays I just want to be taken care of a little. It's an awkward place to be for me, and I'm still wrapping my brain around it.
Last night PF and I took some KFC to the Ninja familia, and we all chowed down and cuddled their new adorable baby and played tickle tackle with their gorgeous little toddler. It's a good thing I like kids so much, because I plan to have a couple someday. PF held the littlest one for about 30 minutes and gave her the hiccups; I thought she'd be irritated by his lack of bosom, but she only whimpered a little when he gave her back to her mommy for a much needed feeding, she was so comfy and cozed up on his bony chest. Absolutely precious. Warm sentimental feelings were just flooding me last night. I love getting out and visiting people.
This is not to meant that I'm some kind of pushover, since apparently I go from baby bear to BEAR in the blink of an eye. I came home to a rare fight with my dad (read: I really hate living with my parents but it's a necessary thing and I generally try not to begrudge them their pecadilloes). Who accused me of partying all night and not having my priorities straight because of how I needed to clean up a bunch of junk upstairs due to the fact that we are having Pergo installed on Thursday and he had no idea how long it was going to take but I better not "mess up" his house with my piles of belongings. Because he was watching a King's game and I dared to ask why The Shield wasn't being Tivo'ed. Needless to say, my highstrungedness kicked into high gear and I let him have it. You'd know why if you saw the house, which is Hoarder's Piles of Paradise, although I'm not officially accusing them of any mental illness. Yet. Let's just say, I was really hurt by his off the cuffs and am just too emotionally wired for criticism of any kind, rightfully presented or not. Which is embarrassing, considering I'm living practically for free in their house for the time being. However, emotional stressors are NOT part of my life plan, so I spoke up. It's not a battle that needed fighting, but I'm a whiny bitch these days. I think the Kings won, but I really couldn't care less. We ended up watching The Shield at 11 PM instead of the news. And I don't understand why the same episode plays back to back, but for once I didn't say "how stupid." Alls well that ends well. But still. I was right.
Anyway. I already miss PF and he only left for work this morning. I'm way ridiculous.
Monday, April 25, 2005
I'm feeling pretty good today. Went to doctor, everything is good. Went to lunch with girlfriend, she's doing great too. Saw my old coworkers, they wanted me to answer a pile of questions about where to find stuff. I helped a bit, but really, I'm not getting paid for this shite, so they can do it themselves. Although I love my one old coworker to pieces, so that's why I helped out at all.
I walked back to my car from work, I had parked it in my old neighborhood because I still have a parking permit. I miss living in town.
I like the suburb/rural area we live in. For pete's sake, I'm thinking about raising peafowl in the 2 acres of yard just because I can and what a neat hobby.
But I won't. Because I'm never going to "buy" out here. And I'm not going to buy downtown either. PF and I need to start looking in really rural areas, near the foothills, and just purchase some land. We can build on it eventually, but the more we discuss it I think we are in agreement that it would be better for us. I could have alpacas, llamas and little teensy donkeys, and he could have a bass pond, and I could raise peacocks and chickens...man. That would be the life. I'd even commute for the opportunity to have something farm-like and pastoral to come home to. But of course, this is the Long Drawn Out Plan. This probably wouldn't happen until we could retire. Still, it's good to consider purchasing decent land right now.
I keep thinking about how we are going to run out of oil and natural gas in the next 25 years. There will probably be a lot of violence and nastiness. Who knows what will happen to our alternative-poor society when it happens? Not that I'm involved in energy issues anymore, but it's something to worry about since I don't have deadlines anymore.
I shit you not, my biggest external concerns are whether the dogs have ticks and whether I dragged my potted roses to a sunny enough spot in the yard.
It's a beautiful day. I think I will go do some yoga on the roof as the sun goes down.
Friday, April 22, 2005
I did not have coffee today when I left to take care of baby birds at the Wildlife Care Association. I'm so exhausted.
There is some issue with the dept. of health and some blood tests that I had done over a month ago, but I'm too cranky to deal with it. It's money, not results, and they apparently don't have my insurance info even though I gave it at the lab. This shit is driving me crazy.
I also came home to what I thought was my first (finally!) EDD check for UI, and lo, it was a request for me to fill out more paperwork because it said I hadn't filled out my "work history" properly. Well, there's a section that says "did you WORK, whether or not you received payment?" & I had written my 8 hours for the WCA, and apparently VOLUNTEERING is not considered "unpaid work", which I do not fucking understand, and so I now have to wait EVEN LONGER until they decide to actually PAY me from my stash of UI funds that I've been paying into for just this sort of occasion... I mean, crap. I get giant portions of my checks deucted to pay into SSI and UI, and it's there like a bank account against when I need to draw. We all do it if we draw a paycheck or pay payroll taxes. And I think I was even overpaying for awhile when I first started working because of some flub and that's okay, so long as I get to draw on it later. But how come any "mess ups" made on my behalf by the state become MY problem??
I tells ya. If it's not one stressor, it's plenty other.
At least I don't have insomnia this week.
The other thing that is bugging me: we have two peafowl, both are males and are juveniles. They wander around the neighborhood and are ours only by default since they eat the same diet as the wild turkeys we feed, so they all hang together in our yard. Lately I've only noticed one, and the brother peacock looks so sad to be wandering around without his pal. These guys are flock pheasants and wouldn't be without their friend unless the other one was dead, and we fear that one is dead. Man. That is too sad for me to comprehend right now after getting magpie shit all over my shirt and feeding a teeny baby bushtit that is so small, kidney beans are bigger. And yet we lose a peacock. It makes me mad too, because I know they like to hang out on the roof of the people across the street, and I have seen these neighbors chase them away. Things about peacocks: they don't make giant poos on your car, they are not roosters like pigeons and turkey vultures, and they eat snails and slugs. I hope this guy didn't hit one of them with a rock or something.
I'm really tired. I need a nap and to stop thinking negatively for awhile.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Funny Craigslist posting sent to me by my pal Dani grrl.
And PF wanted me to remind myself that membership in Hitler's Youth was compulsory for all children living under National Socialism. Although it was hard to forget, since it's repeated ever so often on the news after they announce "Ratzinger was a member of the Hitler's Youth, although it was compulsory and he was actually anti-nazi." It doesn't sound like he's changed much since he was 6 though, because he's all about "no married priests, no birth control, no abortion, no communion to divorcees, blah blah blah". Sorry, but that? Is Catholic Fascism. In some circles, the college of cardinals is called the RCF. It's when they have something (bread, wine and absolution) that you want, and they won't let you have it because you're not up to their standard. Which is okay, you can go get some good unleavened white bread and some decent sherry and I'll forgive you no problem. You still might go to hell if you are a child molester, and I'd probably want you to turn yourself into the authorities to be locked up forever, but I'd personally forgive you if you did those things. The kid and his/her parents might not, but hey. You cannot win them all.
Popes are funny. Especially Saint Peter, the first one. He was apparently pope of the Catholic church the entire last year of Christ's life. Which I find hilarious. I think it has something to do with the supposed "Peter, on you I build my church." Paraphrased, of course. Still. Peter means "Rock", and there's something significant about that word. I will never understand why "Peter" became "Pope". Except that in Italian "Papa" is pope and daddy. So maybe it's the Italian's fault. They do make the most preciously adorable nuns in the entire world. However, I will be the first to point out that "Habemus Peter" sounds naughty.
I am feeling irreverent today, which is fairly normal.
I also had a horrible bad dream after PF left to drive home. It just figures that he'd kiss me goodbye, and I'd turn over snoozing to quickly dream that I was riding my bike in a parking lot and an orange Sephia with license plate 543???? backs into me, chucking me from my bike and speeding off. I then have to climb on the mangled bike and ride it crying through the streets with no brakes trying to find a police station or an ER to patch up my bloody right leg and possibly my face although I haven't seen it in a mirror in my dream.
I woke up to hear my mom panicking on the phone again. This time it's my little brother who just arrived back from Mexico. I don't know what he ate, but do not eat that. He is waylayed in San Diego, holed up with Montezuma's Most Serious Revenge. Some protozoa I'm sure is happily burrowing in to his intestines while his stomach revolts violently from both ends. I quickly called him up to tell him to eat bananas and bread and ginger ale, and then started jabbering away about my friend T whose husband has called her "Squirt" for 10+ years due to such a violent front and back assault on an innocent toilet. He was not amused with my reminiscing.
I found my phone finally after 3 days MIA. It's plugged in and I'll be returning calls as soon as it's charged.
Today is a beautiful day. Maybe it's a blessing I'm not working now, so that I can enjoy my last little bits of free time and luxuriate in early summer/late spring loveliness.
Woke up to my mom's voice panicking downstairs on the phone. I guess my poor sister called crying because her leg was in so much awful, searing pain. It's still pretty bad looking as far as holes-eaten-in-the-leg-by-insane-mycobacterium go. She sees that UCSF guy on the 25th. Probably they will want to take a chunk of biopsy out of it. I'm hoping that the pain means nerves are coming back to life and healing, but I seriously doubt that's the case. My parents are both over at her house checking on/comforting her. I'm really worried and trying to distract myself with the news. The Pope. I could care less, but there's nothing else going on. I already watched Animal Cops Houston and 2 Baby Stories back to back.
I'm also worried about an old pal who I was just informed might have a horrible disease. He's in my thoughts as well. I guess I'm getting ready for a wave of bad news again.
But everything immediately surrounding me is calm. Surreal and calm.
PF is drinking caffeine in bed with a cat sleeping on his lap.
Seamas is following me around like I'm going to disappear.
It's windy out today, but sunny and warm.
I think I want to go to Sunflower Drive In, sit in the sun, eat a tostada, drink a mineral water and try to breathe normally for a change. I have Shortness Of Breath, which is typical for me since I have allergies and other crud going on.
If you didn't know the Pope was an ex-nazi, my sister's leg was falling off, and all the other frightening stuff that goes on in the short span of a day, you'd think it was going to be good.
Monday, April 18, 2005
I was kind of annoyed by the news coverage of Marla Ruzicka last night. Don't get me wrong, she was doing something seriously cool, but come on. She was BEGGING to die there. She's from Norcal, so all the Sacto stations were talking about her tragic carbombing death. While I agree it's tragic, and awful, it's awful because it's HAPPENING AT ALL, not because it's happening to some American dogooder. I like the fact that she was there doing her thing and trying to help people cope with a horrifying situation and monitoring civilian deaths, but she was there knowing full well of the danger of being in a war zone. And if not, she was an idiot. If she was like many people (freelance war zone cameramen came to mind for me and the PF), she got off a little on the adrenaline of the danger she was in, and in my mind she coped with her rush by creating a "helper" persona. Neat, no problem, I still dig that, but what I HATED was the virtual canonization of this person hours after her death. No shit, she was there doing her thing and it's too bad she got killed in a fucking WAR ZONE, that, as everyone knows, GWBII has NOT SECURED, and she was a humanitarian good grrl, but the coverage shouldn't have been so "we love her forever and she was wonderful so be like her, amen." It should have been "cool, she did this great stuff because she got off on the danger of it all her entire LIFE(note earlier arrests at protests during her college years) and had a committment to a life long attempt to fight indecent and corrupt things, but she died because it's fucking dangerous to do what she did, copycat at your own risk, RIP, amen." It reminded me of that Cory gal who died a few years ago tragically trying to stop a bulldozer on the Gaza Strip. Also phenomenally idiotic and unbeautiful, but incredibly stupidly brave, but in the "is this really happening to m---" kind of way; the kind of way that doesn't allow for the distinct possibility that you are going to DIE doing your thing, and I don't know if they just don't have that knowledge of their own mortality of it it just didn't occur to them that even though they are pretty white dogooder american gals, they could die in mud too. In my humble opinion, these women are just casualties of a society (our society) that didn't have the balls to stand up to corrupt and naughty governments for AGES and DECADES, and now they think that they have a say in what happens to people outside the USA? As if we have a presence?
Lemme tell you something dogooder women/men aching to get killed overseas: I am one of you. And guess what? The USofA is full of shit you couldn't even imagine, much less be dozed under for. Stay home and learn a little something right here in your own backyards. There are PLENTY of Palestinians willing to sacrifice for their cause, so let 'em. Your OWN FUCKING COUNTRY needs you here just as much. Want to walk streets with signs and sit on government property? We got that shit right here for you. Want to feed the poor and indigent? I can hook you up with some truly inspired programs. Want to hold dying babies bleeding out from bullet wounds and drive by shootings and car bomb shrapneled blind mommies? We got it right here in Sactown. I have no idea why people burn to go overseas to see this stuff. Maybe because it gets more fabulous news coverage. Everyone knows it's here, but for some reason the 20 something idealists (and hell, I was one too, but I worked in group homes and DV shelters to put myself thru college. I'd rather go to Italy and eat pasta in Calabria than stand in mud facing a dozer, call me nuts.) seem to want to get their "study abroad" piece in while they do their good. Do it here, I beg of you. I'd have a lot more respect if your civilian ass got "martyred" at home.
I'm cranky. I guess it shows.
Did my doublebooked thing on Saturday, saw loads of people I adore, but came home and crashed soon after. At Jackie's wonderful new house in west sac/best sac, saw absolutely adorable kittens and puppies only a few weeks old who need homes: pups are part black lab and super cute and teensy with eyes still closed (ready for adopting in 5-6 weeks), kittens are DSH, very precocious and active, friendly, and super adorable. Courriel/email me if you are at all interested. Double D's (Hal, Nettie, Rick and Maria) were great at Sarah B's bash; I got beaned by a little debbie nack cake and slipped on beer from the beer shower, but a lovelier time could not have been had. Happy Birthday to both lovely gals. Best quote of the evening from Rick: "I tried to mop up the beer after the show, but Charlene said just to leave it because she's just going to hose out her living room tomorrow anyway." Also went next door to see Chris O's place now that it's not Dave Smith's anymore. I was amazed at the changes he made, I was half expecting to still see a partial ducati still sitting in the dining room. Smitty comes home on Cinco de Mayo according to his sisters, so that should be a fun party.
I woke up tired and anxious, but the day is lovely, so I am seriously hope my mood will improve. The anxiety is mainly over a test later this afternoon. Fingers crossed everything looks good.
My favorite news of last night was that the German candidate for pope was a member of Hitler's Youth, which, come on, does it really surprise anyone??? I am personally "praying" for Hong Kong to win. I think there should be a Papal Pool so the rest of the world can get in on the action. I bet Hong Kong for 10. Maybe the yakuza or the tong can help me out with that bet...Better yet, I bet the Fat familia is still "in biz" somewhere out here.
And question: what is a good DSL provider here in Sacramento? My family is using AOL to get online and then using other browsers to navigate, but I really really hate AOL and I think my dad is getting ready to switch if he had good options. Then again, it ain't like I'm paying for it, so I guess I should shut the hell up for a change.
~Amelie, feeling rather unpleasant, uncomfortable and prickly these days.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Today I spent 2 hours in classes and 10 minutes being rejected for a social service program that I apparently make 4 dollars too much a week to be part of.
Today I also found out after 3 hours in another classroom that I should just stay on unemployment according to the most darling social worker at CALJOBS that I've ever worked with, for, or been served by. She is ~55 years old, way cool and computer savvy, has a sassy European accent that is hard to place until you find our she's 1/2 Indonesian and 1/2 Dutch with a big family she visits in Europe. She also hugged me when I left with a bunch of numbers she wants me to call in December, when she thinks I'll be good to go with executive placements again. And finally, to make my day so perfect I can't even think straight, she said: "I'm glad I got you instead of the kid who just got out of jail." Yeah!
Today I actually finished my taxes. Not that I hadn't done them tentatively back when I got my tax return info, because I did, but I lost the pencilled in and original forms and had to shamefully call my old workplace and ask for replacements. Anyway. If I am totally correct, and all goes well, I should be receiving about $500 back total from state and feds. This is good. But I have fuckled up my tax forms in the past, so I am hoping with all my supplemental forms that I'm right. Especially since even though my UI hasn't quite kicked in, I apparently make more money than most people who are going through as traumatic a time, although I've yet to see a red cent.
Today I took a look at my dog and decided I really need to pull out the clippers from wherever PF and I hid them when we were traveling back and forth depositing my life accumulations at my sister's garage or at my parent's library. It's somewhere. I need to find it before the temperatures go over 75. My dog wipes out in the heat. Black wirey hair will do that to a creature.
Other than that, things are peachy. Except that I feel trapped. And whatnot. Still. I'm in better shape than most. And that's what is keeping myself from stabbing myself in the shins with dirty butterknives.
The rest of my week has been kind of a blah blur. I felt kind of out of it most days due to said dirty butterknives.
Movie that was hard to watch: Vera Drake. Not sure I recommend it. If you don't know what the plot is, she's a sweet little granny of a lady much loved by her family and friends, and on the side, she does abortions. Hard to watch, depressing, but still kind of neat.
Speaking of babies and pregnancy, the littlest ninja was just born yesterday. Congrats to Davey, Lisa, and Roanie, on their newest adorable addition.
woke up in time to kiss PF goodbye (he went fishing) and tried to get mom excited about garden area. Unfortunately, she's one cranky old broad and made it very unpleasant, so I invited her to lunch to change the scenery. She told me she wasn't hungry (at nearly 2 PM) and so I said I'd go by myself, since by then I was starveling. At some point during my driving around thinking about where to eat, I decided to call my friend who had a baby a month ago and visit/have lunch with her. Had very satisfying afternoon, changed a diaper, walked in the sun, exchanged good conversation, complained about living with parents (this really was the worst yet most necessary idea I've had in 2 decades), and borrowed bunches of books.
Home again late in the afternoon, mom treats me like crap, but I don't care, and so I go upstairs to my room to read books and forget about how I don't work anymore and really didn't have the dough for a salad and quesadilla from Cafe Bernardos, and felt rested. Then I went up to the mailbox and pulled out 5 feet of weeds, and felt like I'd done something Extremely Productive.
Mom snubbed me rest of evening, apparently due to the fact that I did not come home this afternoon to allow her ample opportunity to crap on my fragilely pleasant mood even more, and so I am now looking for jobs online. Weirdly, found three great jobs for PF in Crescent City, CA and even found a spectacularly beautiful house (at least as presented online) for 239K. Which probably only costs 139K in real dollars, but we're talking CA bucks. But no jobs for Amelie, wouldn't you know it. Sigh. What's near Crescent City besides Pelican Bay? I need a job in non profit management. There ain't much, though.
Yesterday was fun too. Worked out and had lunch with Allykat, tried the new Andy Ngyuen's on Broadway (all vegetarian Vietnamese food). Had something with chargrilled seitan and pseudo fish sauce, yummed it all down pretty fast. Place is just super yum. Went to baby shower for Ninjas, visited with loads of people, ate a lot of good food, gooed and gaaed over baby presents, and played with Henry, Lydia and Roan (Roan was not really in the mood, but I boinged her curls anyway.) In general, fun. Also got to see Bill and Karen's house for the first time, and was seriously impressed with their tile (they ripped out old kitchen floor and bathroom tiles and redid them with Mr. Ninja.) Brilliant and lovely. I am looking forward to when their kitchen is installed. I missed a Bananas show last night because PF didn't want to go due to plans for fishing next AM. I was too tired to drive back out to Sactown by myself.
Next weekend I'm booked. I'm double-booked for Saturday, but that's not my fault. I am not falling into my doublebook rut again. I'm only doublebooked because I'm going to two separate bday parties for people who planned one after the other so that everyone could attend each. Should be busy, drunken, and exciting. I'm not drinking much alkyhols these days, so I just get to watch and laugh.
Sometime soon next week, my sister has a specialist appt at UCSF for her legs, which are worse than ever. After multiple biopsies (the biopsies healed at first, then they opened up and became wound care candidates. Poor thing!!!) and super toxic IV antibiotics on top of super toxic oral antibiotics you wouldn't want to take for more than 7 days straight, my poor sissy ended up with a rager rash all over her poor body. And then she got prednisone again. And then she threw up all over the place for a week, stopped taking prednisone, and was told "nope, there's no bacteria in your cultures anymore, so we don't know what is causing your legs to split open into big wounds and cigarette burn scars. Sorry! And good luck with your weird shite!" Pretty much we all want to kill someone because of what she's been going through: frankly, I would be suicidal by this time. It's been 9 months with pain and open sores on her legs that won't heal and missing work and having to pay for dozens of antibiotics that don't work... So far it looks like a mycobacterium sparked an immune system response long ago that eradicated the actual problem, but has continued responding and killing off her tissue. She's been tested for all the biggies, like lupus and even a bunch of little-ies that don't really make sense, but nothing is coming up. Frankly, I'm ready to call it Sister Syndrome. I'm just glad it's not catching, because that way I can give her lots of sympathy and hugs and can crawl into bed with her to do crosswords and read trashy magazines. My poor sister. So hopefully the doc in SF will not scratch his head and go "oh. Wow. That's interesting! Maybe we should biopsy this?" My poor little sister.
And that's it for now. I hope PF comes home soon because I'm hungry and the caesar salad I just made and wolfed down is not cutting my tummy grumbles.
Saturday, April 09, 2005 Camilla's Hair And If you still can't see what I'm talking about, go here.Or here. I personally can't gawk enough. My dad says it's a feather hat, but I prefer to believe it's part of the hair-do itself. That is, quite possibly, the best bride hair-do I've seen in years. I'm serious. If you're gonna do it, go nuts.
And my favorite recent story: the chili finger. According to speculative news reports on the radio yesterday afternoon, the woman not only has more than 6 suits against fast food restaurants, but the finger MAY BE FROM HER RECENTLY DECEASED AUNT.
Lordy. How creepy can that get? I kept thinking there was some crazy murder disposal, one finger at a time, and was avoiding all chili everywhere, but now I'm just grossed out that someone would saw off their dead aunt's phalange and mix it into their chili to cry wolf.
Mein Gott. What kind of sicko does that? Sheesh. I'm still hoping it's murder.
~Amelie: Hair(Leeches) + DeadLadyFingersinChili = Serious Willies
Friday, April 08, 2005
Thunder and Lightning today. Yesterday, hail, today lightning.
I should probably get off the computer since the back up battery is acting nutty lately...
But I was kind of smirking when I read the news that an archbishop from Boston, the main guy in charge of shuffling pedophilic priests around to different parishes, is leading the funerary services for Il Papa. I guess Boston is sort of personally outraged right now. Maybe enough Catholics will walk away from religion altogether. Sort of a Communion Party, where they stop tithing and dump lots of bread and wine into the bay.
I personally couldn't care less if the pope was dead. He did nothing exciting for me, and I actually got in trouble in Mrs. O'Briens "christian womanhood" class for pointing out in a pro life debate and scuffle, that, technically, a fetus is a parasitic organism that drains the host's resources. And that, technically, abortion is safer than 40 weeks of drainage. She rolled her big eyes at me and clucked her infallible tongue. This was around the time the Pope was in LA, so that's what I "remember when". I also remember a nun at school thrusting her arm into your face saying "touch the hand that touched the hand of the pope." I think I gave her 5 and laughed at her.
Do I really think fetuses are parasitic: yes. But we're definitely equipped to handle them, it ain't like a tapeworm. Do I think abortion is safer than pregnancy FOR THE WOMAN: of course. Do I think it's murder: I personally could care less, to be quite honest. You do what you gotta do. And while I want kids, I know not everyone is ready or willing, so I am not forcing anyone to do anything with their own body, I don't understand why the Church feels the need. In fact, abortion was an on again/off again kind of thing for the history of the RCC, so it ain't like one pope is smarter than another. It's not like they base their opines on facts, for pete's sake.
No, the only really truly catholic people who made me feel like there was something holy about that godforsaken religion were two little nuns who ran the library at my HS. I loved them so much, it hurts sometimes. I think I started crying when I was telling PF about Sr. Assumpta, she was like a grandma, an angel, and a sweet pea all in one. So pious and precious, she made you feel like you were a good kid too. I have a definite liking for Italian nuns over Irish and American. I also like Filipina nuns over many others. It has to do with their culture and their reasons for their vocation. Most Italian and Filipina nuns I've met are actual service nuns. The Americans are probably okay, but pushy like Irish whipcrackers. I really hate most Irish clergy. I've yet to meet an Irish priest I liked personally. I'm not a fan of the young american priests any more than I am a fan of the strict annoying ones. In truth, the church just baffles me. For a culture big on covering the same stuff all the time, it's very interesting to find out about culture and history of church politics in other countries. Ireland's church is pretty awful, but a neat country nonetheless.
Jesus said "give up everything and follow me." So what's the deal with all the gold and splendour and land holdings of the Vatican? Seems to me that if the Vatican, and the American RC Church, decided to wipe out poverty and hunger throughout the world, it could be done pretty easily. Relics be damned, they have more gold and jewels and money than the Queen. More dough than most of Europe combined. But Poverty?
"No, none of that for me, thanks."~RCC
Anyway. I just don't see why the holy see is all that holy.
I personally liked a comment on Daily Show regarding infallibility. Truly, there is no one who is totally infallible left on earth right now. Oh My God! Panic ensues.
The rain is falling. The Pope is buried. RIP, sir. Hope you made it to heaven like you wanted all your life. Not sure why everyone was praying for your recovery, as I would think they'd expected you to walk straight through the gates without an interview first...but who am I to question? Just a lowly prochoice catholic-raised chick in Cali.
On the newscast last night showing the millions who turned up for the funeral camping on lawns and park benches and cathedral stairs in Rome all I could think about was: Where are all these people taking dumps?? Surely the medieval sewage systems are not ready for this kind of onslaught...
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Updates on life in sactown burbs...
Saw Sin City. It's amazing. I thought Mickey Rourke's Once Upon A Time in Mexico performance was a fluke, but indeed it is not. Sin City is a sparklingly divine film and Rodriguez is a phenom. I happened to go with two Frank Miller fans, my dad even bigger than the PF. My dad was so happy watching this film, he had a grin and promised to go see it again soon, even if my mom wouldn't go with him. So there you have it. Sin City is a serious win/win.
Have headaches again. Couldn't sleep at all last night, was up till 5 AM. I napped on the boat yesterday for an hour or so, but not enough to throw me off THAT bad. We went fishing. PF caught a few bass, but not the ones he wanted, and I forgot to eat/drink stuff, so it all could have been really awful if I hadn't downed a bunch of vitamin water and a protein drink and some carrot sticks, but no headaches yesterday. Just insomnia. Today I have a headache that won't quit, even with coffee and iced tea. It's just in the lower occipital area, and in my neck and right eye. But I'm not dead, so I'm okay. And at least we got out on the water on a beautiful springtime day.
Today my mom sprung for veggies and herbs for me to plant contentedly in my freshly weeded plots. It's been unseasonably warm and sunny the past few days, so I better get my tomatoes and peppers in the dirt. I think I want to plant cukes, but keep talking myself out of it. They seriously take over the garden, and I've only got some small areas cleared, enough for a couple of tomatoes and peppers and artichokes, but nothing that spreads. I also checked on Sparky and Beep since yesterday was their last medicine day, and they look perfectly healed! Yay. They look like brand new frogs, which is a bit of a miracle, seeing as how "red leg" is considered lethal and all, and they had deadly nastinesses in their fecal samples.
Seamas looks good, took him to his second major outing since the raccoon-eats-tail incident: the dog park at Phoenix Field. The people there are kind of snobby and it's a very whitebread crowd. Everyone is overprotective of their dogs and it's really not planned out yard-wise very well. It seems like people think dog parks need to look like giant suburban backyards. Flat and boring and fenced and lawned. It might be more related to monies collected, but I'm pretty sure that Capitol Nursery would be happy to grant a few trees and I know that other similarly limited parks have gotten "fire hydrants" and benches donated for kicks. But it's the closest park and the dogs get some socializing in, which is good for them. I think I really have issues with other dog owners much of the time. I see dog behaviors I'd extinguish, but they laugh at the same things that appall me. Or they have giant, obese, fat, matted dogs with sickly runny turds that they don't clean up. Or they make their dogs "mind" at the wrong times (so they are ignored) and then they get mad and yell. I have no problem with training a dog amongst distractions, I mean, that's how I got a good recall with my dog. But it's more like people are trying to show off and show up other owners. A lot of them even bring their non-altered dogs to the park and get "upset and embarrassed" when the dogs start humping each other. Lordy. What on EARTH do they expect? If altered dogs hump for dominance, the altered ones are gonna try even HARDER, and might make it home for some unlucky mutt. I like South Sac better, the people are more diverse, less annoying, and far more relaxed and ready to talk to you or ask you questions about your dog/training recommendations/etc. Plus, they have cooler looking dogs. I think these Fair Oaks weenies with their ungainly, dubiously purebred and non-altered badly-behaved doggies just really bug.
My pal Ken emailed out an announcement about a NGC documentary hosted by Lisa Ling. It's on maximum security prisons. I hope it's raw enough to help dissuade people from ending up in such a system. But it is hosted by Lisa Ling, so how raw can it be? I guess I'll find out on Sunday. Apparently the scariest thing according to Ling, from what she told Oprah, the worst part about this doc is that a lot of really horrible people will be getting out of Folsom Prison. This doesn't shock me.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Due to the fact that I have a sister who needs skin grafts, a nana who is suffering from dementia, a dad who lost his kidney, and a dear friend who just survived kidney surgery and tumor removal, I joined up on a statewide donor list. Just in case. Just in case, so I don't end up like Terri Schiavo. They can't keep your heart a-pumpin if you don't have one anymore, and so long as it's healthy stuff, someone who needs it more can have it once I'm dead.
Speaking of medical crud, my poor mom had her guts checked out today. Did you know guts is an acronym? It means gastro-intestinal/urinary tract systems. Nice. I once asked, "Oh. Then how come they used to string violins with catgut in the olden days before acronyms?" and my dad said "shut up." Anyway, she's fine. She just gags when she eats which can be unpleasant for all parties involved. It's the GERD. Another acronym that means gastro-esophageal reflux disease. Depressing problem for those who have it. Suffering from problems with minor acid at night, I can sort of relate, but not completely. Poor things!
There was something big in the grass outside this morning/last night. There were big areas flattened down on the hillside in the front yard, like deer or sasquatch bedded down for the night. Or maybe someone is practicing crop circles. I'm going to sneak out onto the roof late tonight with a caver's headlamp to check it out and see if anything is "sleeping."
I applied for 2 jobs and registered for unemployment today. Only I think I did something incorrectly on the UI form online. I have no idea how much I made weekly, I'd have to actually hunt something up with my monthly income. I tried to do it with my olde annual income, but I couldn't figure out how to add in the parking bonus that I got (pretaxed) as a monthly benefit. I argue heartily that that is income, nay, it's NECESSARY. But there were no blanks for that sort of thing...
I hope I can find a job soon. Being unemployed is way too boring. I weeded yesterday and I chauffeured today. That's horribly boring. I also cleaned a toilet and brushed a dog and did dishes. My life is tragically pathetic. If this goes on, I won't last.
There are good things though. For example, I'm being treated to Sin City this evening, and from the way Ebert raved, it's going to be a goodie. Don't tell me a thing if you've seen it, I haven't read any of the novels.
And PS: Ring 2 sucked ass. More confusing and less scary than the first one, don't bother.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Sleep: better. I made myself get up at 7 AM yesterday and made it thru the day with only a minor headache. but I couldn't get to bed before 2, which turned out to be 3 with the time change. I usually hate Spring Ahead Dread Day, but since I don't have to work, I guess I can hack it.
Very productive Saturday: vet (Seamas looks good), Wildlife Care Association (only two pigeons so far!) and Peep Off.
I love the Peep Off. It was smaller than last year, and lots of people I figured would show up missed the whole thing, but I thought it was still a decent turn out. The fella who won this year only had to eat 57 peeps. I got to dispense my sage wisdome: eat a pizza and it will get the bolus moving again. Really, that's what makes you so sick, having all that gelatin and sugar crust sitting in your gut with no fiber or fat to move it down the pipes. It's an either up or down sort of thing, and down is slightly more pleasant than acid tainted multicolored fluff vomit. The rule is, you eat peeps for 30 minutes. If you vomit, you are out unless you eat your vomit. If you can hold off from vomitting for at least 5 minutes after scarfing down peeps galore, you keep your score. I think the record was around 120 or so. That's a lot of peeps. The key is, apparently, to drink either something hot and melty, something alcoholic to disintegrate the marshmallow goo, or eat a pretzel between each peep which seems to soften them faster. As a rule, the blue peeps are just putridly gross and I do not recommend them. Stick to yellow and white, and you're alright. Although Darrin and Leon were my heroes for scarfing down all the blue ones to keep them from harming pregnant women and small children, very chivalrous gentlemanly men. Leon's dog was dressed like a peep, which reminds me, no one brought a diorama this year. Unless you count Heylove.
The Sacramento Peep Off made it into LIFE Magazine a week or so ago, so it must be good.
This year, with no Dave Smith, him being in NZ and all, his sisters and xgf hosted. Kellye, Cary, Gina, and Marletta went balls out. A fair group showed up, and I ate a peep s'more, so I'm on the list somewheres. Seamas ate 4.5 peeps and a bunch of dropped graham crackers. No one wanted to peep fight, so I started it by throwing a wad of them at Sarah B, who was hammered and wearing bunny ears. She bit, and soon there were a few more peep fighters. Somehow I became a main target, but I think I held my own. I can throw a mean peep if I can fight the wind foil. I also got a spanking from 8 Year Old Emily, who I mistakenly peeped in the head during her jump rope session. That kid smacks hard. Got to see old pals, Ally Kat showed up with my brother and Esther and some other cool kids, and I ate a lot of hummus.
Today I ate Taco Bell. I did the Taco Bell dance for PF to get him out of bed. This consists of standing in front of the TV swaying hips and pointing to belly, repeatedly saying "put some taco bell yum in my tum tum tum", and I got a bean burrito out of it, so I must've been on par with hot go go dancers who like fire sauce...
I came home and weeded. I'm supposed to weed. Not smoke it, but pull it out of the ground. That's my big task for living here relatively free. It's a big huge property, and it's a herculean task, but I got a giant chunk of it done. I was holding a big wad of weedy things in my left hand and pulling with my right, when the weeds in my left started buzzing and rattling. Yup. I think the baby snake that came out of it was a youngish rattler type, but I threw it really quickly over to the fence as soon as I saw scales, so I have no idea what it was for certain. It could have been an alligator lizard I guess... We do live near the river, so it's possible, and it's been really balmy out lately, so it wouldn't totally surprise me that reptiles were hatching in my own front yard. But I'll have to be on guard from now out out...at least it warned me, right? Anyway, I feel like I mowed 4 acres, but really I just weeded 20 feet. Not bad for a lazy day.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
I've had a lot of trouble sleeping lately. My joints ache and I have too many things to worry about, so I stay up late.
I'm also still freaked out about Magda Goebbels and keep having dozing dreams that she's sneaking into my bedroom with her hands in her pockets and it's freaking me out. I bolt up out of bed and turn my lights on. I haven't acted that way during nightmares since I was 10.
Yesterday I got a rager headache around 2 PM. I almost blamed Summer and her yummy sandwich that she made me, but my mom pointed out I am drinking less caffeine, and yup. That was it. An earl grey later, I was okay to drive home. Two tylenols, an allergy pill and a cold coca cola was all it took to remove my intensely incapacitating headache that wouldn't go away with cold compresses and temple massage. It was making me depressed. I do plan to make a visit to my chiropractor this coming week, but I was glad it was just caffeine. I really truly hate headaches.
Anyway, I was determined to wake up at a real hour (like if I was working or something crazy like that) and to sleep through the night. I decided to wear myself out before bed since relaxing in a tub or doing yoga did nothing for me earlier this week. I cleaned the floor in my bathroom and brought in a fan to blow the fumes, and presto, the fan knocked me out with white noise. Why I didn't think about that before, I dunno. It works though. I woke up one time and it was to cathedral chimes blasting my ears at 7 AM.
Even my dog is used to my weird hours, because he's still sound asleep upstairs. I said "C'mere, Seamas" and he totally ignored me for another 3 hours of sleep.
It feels good to be up and around. Sleeping till 11 or noon is just not my style and it was tearing into my sleep and causng nightmares. I'm pretty much convinced of it.