Sorta. I’m taking off tomorrow. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment, and then we’re going to do something as a family. So today is my Friday.
I’m going to talk to the doctor about some sort of birth control. I think an IUD would be perfect for us, but it’s expensive, and our insurance doesn’t see the need to cover it. I’ve never understood that logic. How much would it cost them if I got pregnant? A lot more than the IUD. I guess they’re willing to take the gamble.
So, I’m thinking of the patch. Miss Priss was conceived when was on Ortho Tri-cyclen. We never figured out why. No antibiotics, same time every day, no missed pills. The only thing we can think of is that I missed a pill and took it the next morning or something. No matter what, it happened. So, I don’t have a lot of trust in birth control pills. Too much human error.
So, the patch sounds like a good plan. Human error factor is reduced to once a week. Hubby thinks I should try the shot, but I don’t trust it either. And it has the nasty side effect of making you gain weight – not something I want to do. So, I’ll talk to the doctor and get her input because she is, after all, a doctor and might have some ideas.
It’s the week of weird dreams. I had another weird one last night. Apparently, I was involved in some kind of epic struggle of good and evil. I don’t know how I knew it, but in my dream, I knew it was. I was on the good side in case you were wondering. LOL So, in the end (and it kind of skipped from beginning to end or at least my memory of it does), we won. We won because of the help of Nascar followers. Now, I’m not a Nascar fan, but in my dream, the world was saved by the Nascar fans. I’m telling you there is something wrong with my brain. LOL It does not shut down properly at night.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
High School
Okay, last night I had this screwy dream about going to my high school reunion. My 10 year reunion is next summer (summer of ’08), and it was so weird. In my dream, I didn’t want to go, but I did anyway. Somehow, though, I didn’t have time to fix my hair or makeup, and I was wearing old, crappy clothes. I saw most everyone from my high school class (and let me just say that in my dreams, my class did not age well -- LOL). The reunion was held in the middle gym* and there was a basketball game going on at the time.
*In small town Texas, it’s not uncommon to have more than 1 gym. My school had 3. The “Old Gym,” truly old where elementary school kids have PE and play when the weather is bad, the “Middle Gym,” used primarily for middle school PE, middle school basketball games, and JV basketball games, and the “New Gym,” built around 1990 where the high school PE classes were/are held and the high school basketball games are held as well.
Anyway, it was extremely weird, and I woke up with one of those weird feelings of WTH? How can a stupid dream transport me back to high school so quickly.
In case you’re wondering, I am not planning on returning for my high school reunion next year. I might go to the 20 year reunion, but I have no intention of going to talk with people who, all through high school, made me feel like there was something wrong with me because I had half a brain. And since I have no college degree (at this point in time) to show for my braininess, I have no intention of listening to the questions of what is my degree in, etc**. I feel judged just thinking about the people I went to school with. I don’t even have to be in the same room. LOL
**And yes, I have been around people who think that is the main thing that one should do in life. My cousin and herannoying friend came to Thanksgiving. They both graduated from NYU last year with their very expensive educations in TV and Film Production or something of that sort. In a small little question of grammar that got mention, the friend said, “Well, we’re right since we got degrees from NYU***.” Ahem, I can’t remember what the grammar issue was, but I know for a fact that they were wrong.
Anyway, where do these two work with their high priced educations? A home improvement warehouse (I can’t remember which one) for the friend, and my cousin works at a very well known chain of coffee shops (you know, the one that started in Seattle). Yeah.
Okay, so the degree thing is obviously a touchy issue for me. LOL I refrained from asking them how much they make and what their benefits were like. Hubby think I just need to get over it (and he’s right), but I’m not there yet, and for that reason, I refuse to go to a high school reunion. LOL
***For the record, I have nothing at all against NYU. I’m sure it is a fine school. It just happens to be where these two clowns went to school.
*In small town Texas, it’s not uncommon to have more than 1 gym. My school had 3. The “Old Gym,” truly old where elementary school kids have PE and play when the weather is bad, the “Middle Gym,” used primarily for middle school PE, middle school basketball games, and JV basketball games, and the “New Gym,” built around 1990 where the high school PE classes were/are held and the high school basketball games are held as well.
Anyway, it was extremely weird, and I woke up with one of those weird feelings of WTH? How can a stupid dream transport me back to high school so quickly.
In case you’re wondering, I am not planning on returning for my high school reunion next year. I might go to the 20 year reunion, but I have no intention of going to talk with people who, all through high school, made me feel like there was something wrong with me because I had half a brain. And since I have no college degree (at this point in time) to show for my braininess, I have no intention of listening to the questions of what is my degree in, etc**. I feel judged just thinking about the people I went to school with. I don’t even have to be in the same room. LOL
**And yes, I have been around people who think that is the main thing that one should do in life. My cousin and her
Anyway, where do these two work with their high priced educations? A home improvement warehouse (I can’t remember which one) for the friend, and my cousin works at a very well known chain of coffee shops (you know, the one that started in Seattle). Yeah.
Okay, so the degree thing is obviously a touchy issue for me. LOL I refrained from asking them how much they make and what their benefits were like. Hubby think I just need to get over it (and he’s right), but I’m not there yet, and for that reason, I refuse to go to a high school reunion. LOL
***For the record, I have nothing at all against NYU. I’m sure it is a fine school. It just happens to be where these two clowns went to school.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
When You Were in Elementary School.....
Did you ever grow lima bean plants? You know which ones I’m talking about, right? The ones where the teacher gives all the students a Dixie cup with a little potting soil in it and the kids plant a little lima bean and then water it for a few days to learn about how plants grow or something like that.
I remember these from early elementary school, and I remember fervently hoping that my lima bean was actually one that sprouted. You were labeled a loser or something if your stupid plant didn’t grow. Anyway, that’s beside the point. LOL Well, in my house, the plant came home, we continued to water it a few days, it died, end of story.
Miss Priss’s class did the lima bean plants. And hers grew. She brought it home, and insisted on continuing to water it. No problem. I knew it would die in a few days and I could throw it away. Lo and behold, it sprouted new leaves. WTH? It’s not supposed to do that. And then it sprouted more new leaves.
So, we replanted it in a new pot with lots of soil since you could see the roots growing around the sides of the Dixie cup. And it sprouted more leaves and now it’s growing little baby lima beans. I have to say that I’ve never known anyone whose school lima bean plant continued to grow after it came home. I always assumed that’s why teachers sent them home so soon after they sprouted, so that they could pretend the parents killed them.
I’ll have to post a picture. I’m still amazed that the damn thing is growing.
Miss Priss must have gotten the “green thumb” genes from her grandmothers because she certainly didn’t get it from me. I can’t keep a plant alive. If you look through my house, it has no greenery. It’s not from lack of trying. I like plants. I think they’re pretty, and someday when I own a house, I will try to plant some kind of flowers, but I will fail because nature has made me some kind of flower killer. Maybe I’ll have Miss Priss plant the flowers instead. She didn’t get the flower killer genes.
I remember these from early elementary school, and I remember fervently hoping that my lima bean was actually one that sprouted. You were labeled a loser or something if your stupid plant didn’t grow. Anyway, that’s beside the point. LOL Well, in my house, the plant came home, we continued to water it a few days, it died, end of story.
Miss Priss’s class did the lima bean plants. And hers grew. She brought it home, and insisted on continuing to water it. No problem. I knew it would die in a few days and I could throw it away. Lo and behold, it sprouted new leaves. WTH? It’s not supposed to do that. And then it sprouted more new leaves.
So, we replanted it in a new pot with lots of soil since you could see the roots growing around the sides of the Dixie cup. And it sprouted more leaves and now it’s growing little baby lima beans. I have to say that I’ve never known anyone whose school lima bean plant continued to grow after it came home. I always assumed that’s why teachers sent them home so soon after they sprouted, so that they could pretend the parents killed them.
I’ll have to post a picture. I’m still amazed that the damn thing is growing.
Miss Priss must have gotten the “green thumb” genes from her grandmothers because she certainly didn’t get it from me. I can’t keep a plant alive. If you look through my house, it has no greenery. It’s not from lack of trying. I like plants. I think they’re pretty, and someday when I own a house, I will try to plant some kind of flowers, but I will fail because nature has made me some kind of flower killer. Maybe I’ll have Miss Priss plant the flowers instead. She didn’t get the flower killer genes.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Okay, I need your help.....
I have a $25 itunes gift card. And I'm coming up blank on what to get with it. I need some song or artist ideas to use. Even if it doensn't make my top 25 list, it will probably jar my memory of a song that I want to get. Please. Help me. :D
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Just Thinking....
There are a lot of thoughts running around in my head right now, so that’s why I’ve been MIA. You’d think I’d actually be trying to get them all out.
We visited my grandfather over the weekend. He really misses my grandmother. He has a huge house all to himself, so it must be hard. In fact, it’s really hard for me to be there. So very many memories. He’s planning on selling the house. I figure by the end of the year, he’ll move. That’s almost harder for me to take than the loss of my grandmother. I know that sounds ridiculous – it’s just a house, and she was such a wonderful person, but it’s like losing that last little connection to her. It’s not that I blame him – it’s a huge house with a big yard, and he’s all alone with those memories and far too much to take care of by himself, but I hate to see the house sell. It’s in a great neighborhood in one of the best school districts in the area, so I know it will probably sell quickly.
It’s funny because not all of my memories are happy. I remember having my first panic attack there (or at least the first one that I recognized as a panic attack). I remember some of the nightmares I’ve had at that house too. One of them when I was very young, and one when I was in junior high. But, mostly, I remember the house full of people at Thanksgiving every year. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I remember sitting in one of the bedrooms with my cousin while my grandmother read us Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. In fact, there’s a certain brand of cigarette (and I don’t know what it is) that always takes me back to that time because my grandmother was a smoker for a majority of her life, and her breath smelled like those particular cigarettes. I remember the summer that my brother and I stayed there for 2 weeks going swimming everyday and staying up until 2 in the morning and sleeping in until 11 or noon. I remember the Christmas that I got a bike, my cousins and my brother got scooters, and it was snowing, so we had to ride our new toys in circles in the garage.
My mother and I cleaned out my grandmother’s closet for my grandfather. He doesn’t want to keep anything, so we cleaned out all the clothes. She has lots of jewelry that we left, of course, that I’m sure he’ll distribute as he sees fit. Or not. Maybe he’ll just wait and let everyone figure it out when he passes away. Of all the families who would not fight over things when he passes away, it’s my dad’s. The fight will be over sentimental things. My grandfather has a silk map of Borneo that he got in WWII. He was a belly gunner on a B-24 (I think it was a B-24, but I could be wrong). The map was in case they were shot down. He was going to throw the map away, but my grandmother wouldn’t let him. She had it framed, and it’s the only item in the house that I see a fight over when my grandfather dies.
It’s just sad to visit anymore. There’s not clear cut family reunion at Thanksgiving this year. There’s a planned family reunion in June, but I don’t think everyone will make it. My cousin is getting married in August, so that will get everyone together as well (including my brother who is flying down!).
We visited my grandfather over the weekend. He really misses my grandmother. He has a huge house all to himself, so it must be hard. In fact, it’s really hard for me to be there. So very many memories. He’s planning on selling the house. I figure by the end of the year, he’ll move. That’s almost harder for me to take than the loss of my grandmother. I know that sounds ridiculous – it’s just a house, and she was such a wonderful person, but it’s like losing that last little connection to her. It’s not that I blame him – it’s a huge house with a big yard, and he’s all alone with those memories and far too much to take care of by himself, but I hate to see the house sell. It’s in a great neighborhood in one of the best school districts in the area, so I know it will probably sell quickly.
It’s funny because not all of my memories are happy. I remember having my first panic attack there (or at least the first one that I recognized as a panic attack). I remember some of the nightmares I’ve had at that house too. One of them when I was very young, and one when I was in junior high. But, mostly, I remember the house full of people at Thanksgiving every year. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I remember sitting in one of the bedrooms with my cousin while my grandmother read us Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. In fact, there’s a certain brand of cigarette (and I don’t know what it is) that always takes me back to that time because my grandmother was a smoker for a majority of her life, and her breath smelled like those particular cigarettes. I remember the summer that my brother and I stayed there for 2 weeks going swimming everyday and staying up until 2 in the morning and sleeping in until 11 or noon. I remember the Christmas that I got a bike, my cousins and my brother got scooters, and it was snowing, so we had to ride our new toys in circles in the garage.
My mother and I cleaned out my grandmother’s closet for my grandfather. He doesn’t want to keep anything, so we cleaned out all the clothes. She has lots of jewelry that we left, of course, that I’m sure he’ll distribute as he sees fit. Or not. Maybe he’ll just wait and let everyone figure it out when he passes away. Of all the families who would not fight over things when he passes away, it’s my dad’s. The fight will be over sentimental things. My grandfather has a silk map of Borneo that he got in WWII. He was a belly gunner on a B-24 (I think it was a B-24, but I could be wrong). The map was in case they were shot down. He was going to throw the map away, but my grandmother wouldn’t let him. She had it framed, and it’s the only item in the house that I see a fight over when my grandfather dies.
It’s just sad to visit anymore. There’s not clear cut family reunion at Thanksgiving this year. There’s a planned family reunion in June, but I don’t think everyone will make it. My cousin is getting married in August, so that will get everyone together as well (including my brother who is flying down!).
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