Me to John as he was leaving for his boxing class Wednesday morning (I had to leave early to get to DC): “Kiss me now because if my car starts, I’ll be gone when you get back.”
John to me: “Sounds like a country song.”
True story.
Also a true story: I tried lots of different ways of punctuating what I said. I’m not sure I like where I ended up.
My car dies sometimes. We thought we were holding the problem at bay by pulling the master fuse when we’re not in the car because that would keep the accessories (radio, lights, clock, etc.) from draining the battery while it’s off. John was supposed to be using the time we were buying by doing that to research the problem so he could fix it for me. We got about a year out of the last battery, which we replaced right after Christmas (just a few weeks ago). Fresh new battery means no problems for a while, right? Yeah…no. I was able to start the car (and drive it places) three different times Monday night (after leaving it sitting in the driveway for three full days), but Tuesday morning it was dead. Since I still pull the master fuse out every night, nothing on that panel can be what’s killing the battery (there goes my new radio). The locks have been acting up all this time, too, so that night when we got home (in the dark, in the rain), John unplugged the relay for the power locks (and possibly some other relay, but I haven’t found anything else that’s been disconnected yet). So far, I haven’t had any issues (and I was already used to using the key and the manual locks to lock and unlock the car since the power locks have been so unreliable). Okay, it’s only been a day and a half. We’re going to try not to use my car all weekend again as a test. From Friday night to sometime Monday, we’ll leave it sitting in the driveway and use John’s car for any errands. If it starts after two or three days, then we’ve probably found the problem. I’m not sure what happens after that. Is the relay bad? Or is it something in the wiring?
Man, I’m much happier focusing on this issue than the stuff that’s happening at that place I have to go to every weekday.
As you all know (because I’m nothing if not repetitive consistent), I get coffee from Starbucks on mornings I go to DC. I just get a tall, so it’s long gone by the time I pull into the garage, and I always have an empty cup to throw away on my way to the elevator. The other morning, I was carrying it upright, as though it still had coffee in it, and I was reminded of how obvious it is on TV when actors are clearly carrying empty coffee cups. How hard is it to fill a cup with water? It would look so much more realistic. But it does give me the opportunity to pretend I’m an actor who’s pretending to drink coffee for the 30 seconds it takes me to get to a trash can.
The bathrooms in our house aren’t all that great. They’re not awful or anything, but they’re not the spectacular bathrooms I would like to have. The downstairs half-bath in the hall is fine (you can’t ask much from a half-bath, and it does its job), but upstairs is a little disappointing. Our master bath doesn’t deserve the name, but there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot we can do about it. I mean, yes, we could replace the vanity and upgrade the shower (and put in a nicer floor), but it’ll still only have a single sink and a walk-in shower with no tub. There’s no room to do anything bigger. We’d have to do MAJOR renovations to the whole upper floor, like add rooms over the garage (which would mean a whole addition to the house), and that’s just not likely with our current plans. The main complaints I have about the other bathroom upstairs (the one I use) are that the bathtub is too small and the water pressure SUCKS.
So naturally, I sometimes find myself daydreaming about the perfect bathroom. A few years ago, we were in Boulder for a work thing, and we stayed at the St. Julien Hotel. That bathroom was incredible. The tub was super long and really deep (I could practically swim in it), and the shower was awesome. I think that bathtub might be my happy place. (Serenity now!)
You’ll have to believe me. The picture doesn’t do it justice.
Why are standard bathtubs so small? According to Wikipedia, average height for women in the US is between 5’4″ and 5’5″ (and you have to be shorter than that to fit comfortably in a regular tub) so the evil bathtub industry clearly has something against baths. Which seems to be contrary to their interests.
Going to bed early didn’t work. I had crazy dreams and I woke up too many times. So what’s different? I haven’t been overeating, I haven’t been drinking caffeine much (and what I’ve had was all gone no later than mid-morning), I haven’t been exercising at night… I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary the last couple of days. The only thing I can think is that sleeping sitting up (because I’ve been so congested) is just not working for me anymore.
Boring boring boring boring.
I’m putting off stuff I don’t want to do, but it’s not leading to interesting stuff here…
Boring.
Hmph. I might be boring right now, but my book isn’t.
Guys, I’m so tired. I woke up a dozen times last night for no reason I can think of. So you know what? I am going to do something crazy and go to bed RIGHT NOW. Plus, like, ten minutes. I have to take care of Roxy’s feet first. And I’m sure I’ll read for a while, so it’s not like I’m going to straight to sleep. But still. In bed before 8:30! That’s crazy and wacky!
Here’s the aftermath of New Year’s Eve:
Yup. We’re party animals. We even went out to eat on our anniversary. The actual day! Can you believe it?
Portrait of the couple on their 12th anniversary
(Yes, that is my Hogwarts scarf. Yes, we were about to go out to dinner to a fancy(ish) restaurant. Yes, I wear my nerd regalia out into the world. Oh, did I tell you I got a compliment on my TARDIS hat? It was from a girl who works at Advance Auto. Whovians are everywhere.)
It’s time for a Roxy update.
Right now, she’s wearing socks and resting quietly on her bed. (We’re supposed to keep socks on her paws for ten minutes after putting the new topical cream on them.) It’s cute.
Speaking of cute (or terrifying – you decide):
John thinks it’s fake. I think it’s hilarious either way. Here’s another one:
And here’s a really neat optical illusion.
All videos courtesy of The Daily What (here and here).
We spent Saturday wincing at all the hammering and other assorted loud noises coming from upstairs as a team of four put in hardwood floors. Totally worth it, but man, it was loud. And COLD. They had windows open up there and a saw set up on the front porch, so they had to keep going outside, meaning the door was always open. On top of that, it snowed all morning and then my car wouldn’t start, so we just huddled in the dining room with the dogs and lit a fire. And played on the internet. And read. And reshelved books.
Starting Saturday night, we became crazy people who clean. And clean. And clean. And also crazy people who walk into a mattress store and buy a new bed in less than 20 minutes. And then tie it to the roof of the car and drive home. On the coldest,windiest day of the year. (This was Sunday, I think). And then, because Monday was New Year’s Eve and we were having people over and some of them were spending the night (and this new bed was for the guest room), we became the crazy people who have to run out and buy sheets and then wash them so they can go on the bed. (This new bed that is a double, which is a size we’ve never owned before, so we didn’t have any sheets that would fit.) On the day people are actually coming over. And THEN, because I’m a crazy person who is also an idiot, I went to Wegmans on one of the four worst days of the year to go to Wegmans to get everything we’d need for these people coming over in LESS THAN FOUR HOURS. What are the four worst days of the year to go to Wegmans? The day before Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, the day before Easter, and NEW YEAR’S EVE. It was a madhouse. And they were completely out of the yummy pre-made dips made of cheesy goodness that I usually get. Otherwise, I found everything I was looking for. I just had to fight for some of it.
New Year’s Eve was fun, but as John and I were dragging our tired asses to bed at 2am that night, I came to a realization. The demographics of our little group have changed. (Okay, yes, duh – I know.) Our friends have babies, and babies mean schedules and crying and parents who leave early to put said babies to bed. All of that is perfectly understandable (and we love their babies and love to see their babies), but if half of our guests are going to go home long before midnight, maybe New Year’s Eve isn’t the best night to have our little get-together. (Also, DAMN I’m tired today. 2am is entirely too late for me.) Instead, I declare Derby Day to be our day. It’s always a Saturday (so no one has to work), it doesn’t immediately follow any other holiday (so no one’s exhausted from family and travel), it starts earlier, and there’s no obligation to make it to midnight (although people are more than welcome to stay late). And it’s fun!
(I think we should try to do a summery picnic thing on the Mall (or somewhere in DC when the weather’s nice), too. Easier for everyone to get to and also fun!)
That’s what I learned from New Year’s Eve this year. I’ll show you the screaming sheep I found tomorrow.
I realize I’ve posted nothing but negative things these last few days, and I’d hate for you to think I didn’t enjoy myself. I totally did. Molly and I got our nails done on Sunday, and Tom and I lost to Molly and Tania (by a whisker) and John and Emily (by a lot) at Taboo on Christmas Day. John and I kicked everyone’s butts (especially Emily and Sean’s) at Cranium on Saturday night. Christmas itself was a very fun day, as usual. Molly got me possibly my favorite present of the year. I am now the proud owner of a TARDIS hat.
Also, I have a flashing Rudolph nose, but I only wear it on special occasions.
Home now. Still sick. Thoroughly exhausted. I think I could have been good at writing telegrams. We were right on the edges of that big snowstorm that is heading northeast, so there were multiple accidents on the highway this afternoon, and John and I took an alternate route home. It took us five hours, but the GPS said staying on the highway would have taken almost seven. Eight, really, since we’d been on the road for an hour when we checked. So we’re home, and the car is unloaded, and the Chinese food has been ordered, and John is out getting milk and yogurt. Roxy is resting on her own bed. She was really good this past week. Very quiet, no accidents, no incidents with Mabel – she was the perfect houseguest-dog. My head feels both clearer and runnier than it has for days. I think that’s an improvement, but I’m so over this horrible cold/congestion/sinus infection/HORRIBLE THING I could just scream. But that would make me cough. And THAT would make me dive head first into a fire pit. (Because it might feel better. Also because it was 57 degrees in the house when we walked in, and a fire pit would probably be warmer.)
Okay, people, it’s time for Christmas. I just spent two hours in a thoroughly depressing walk-in clinic, and I need some lights, some presents, and some music, stat! (Turns out I have a sinus infection, but I’m all doped up now and will hopefully be on the mend soon.)
Why am I sick again? Is this some cruel joke? I was better for a few days, maybe even a whole week, and then I woke up with a sore throat Thursday morning, and now I’m a wreck. I’m drinking water like there’s no tomorrow, which means I’m going to the bathroom every 15 minutes or so, and I’m congested and coughing my head off. This is getting old. Everyone keeps asking me what they can do to make me feel better, and I appreciate that, I really do, but there isn’t anything anyone can do. I have medicine (although it doesn’t seem to be doing anything), and I have lots of water and lots of tea and lots of kleenex – what else is there? Oh, it’s time for ibuprofen. Ouch, people. This sucks.
People annoy me. I had lunch today with someone I’ve barely seen or talked to in months (we don’t work together anymore), and it was kinda good and kinda awful. Awful like I don’t want to talk to her anymore. Good like it was nice to catch up, but awful like after about 20 minutes, I couldn’t handle listening to her (and didn’t want to share anything from my life, either). Lunch ended eventually, though, and I got to come home and relax a little and then I got to go to yoga and relax a lot. And now I have to give Roxy her medicine (her 5 tons of medicine), so I’m off. Sorry for the lack of entertainment going on up in here.
Hey, guys? The Hobbit was disappointing. I won’t ruin it for anyone with details, but…hm. I can’t say a whole lot more without ruining it. Here’s the thing, though – once I get past it not being what I hoped, it was still entertaining. It just wasn’t what I expected from Peter Jackson, after he took such care with The Lord of the Rings movies (with one major exception for which I haven’t forgiven him). So see it, by all means, but lower your expectations.
Last Friday was one of the worst days of my life. It was the first day of the worst week of my life. On the advice of our regular vet, we took Roxy to see an internal medicine specialist, and after an ultrasound, she told us that Roxy has end-stage liver disease and, to quote the vet, “her time is short.” We hoped she’d be able to give us some idea of just how short after we got some test results (due the end of this week). We spent the rest of Friday totally devastated and looking for ways to baby her. We cancelled the kennel reservation for her for Christmas; she’s coming with us. We bought low protein dog food and dog treats. She’s taking more medication than ever, and because her paws are all screwed up (the pads are cracked and dry), we’re massaging her feet daily with this ultra-vaseline stuff called Bag Balm (so called because it was originally developed for farmers to use on cow udders). We spent all week wondering just how bad her liver disease is and how much longer Roxy might have. She didn’t seem to be in pain, and the medicine appeared to be helping her, at least a little. She doesn’t move away when I sit down next to her on the floor (like she used to). Is that because she’s more willing to let me stay close? Or because it’s too difficult for her to get up and move? I nearly broke down in Wegmans while picking out low protein dog treats. It was a horrible week.
This morning, we finally got the phone call from the vet with Roxy’s test results (part of them, anyway). Surprise! Turns out Roxy’s liver is functioning normally. That’s great news! I mean, it really is, REALLY, but did we have to go through all of that? It’s too soon to say she’s out of the woods entirely, but her days are no longer numbered (not any more than any other 9-year-old epileptic dog). Her paws are still in bad shape, her liver enzymes are still a little high, she’s still a little anemic, and we haven’t gotten the thyroid test results back yet. BUT. Her liver has not failed. It may have some issues, but it’s functioning NORMALLY. She doesn’t need to be on a low-protein diet. SHE’S OKAY. But that vet needs to be more careful about what she tells people.
(I’m still going to baby Roxy. She needs babying.)
Hey, guys, I tried. I only have one thing on my mind today, and I will most likely write about it tomorrow. I stared and stared at this little blank window, but I came up empty. Also, I’m tired and also also, I’m getting up early tomorrow, so I officially give up. Good night!
For reasons I cannot explain, my internet connection is really slow tonight, so this will be short. Today is the 12th of December, as I’m sure you’re all aware. The entire world has gone crazy about it being 12/12/12, but that’s not what this is about. The year is irrelevant to me, except that it helps me count. Today, 12/12/12, is the 15th anniversary of our first kiss. This is very nearly the first time either of us has remembered this little anniversary on the actual day. Of course, it’s a Wednesday, and John didn’t get home until nearly six, and I have yoga tonight (in a couple of minutes, so I have to be quick here), AND his office holiday party was today, so he ate there, and I ate a quick dinner when I got home. So….we went out for frozen yogurt. Because we’re in luuuuuurrrrvvvve.
We live in a very safe area. I knew this already, but it was reinforced for me tonight. I went out to pick up dinner from Noodles & Company (mac and cheese with meatballs for John, Bangkok curry with shrimp for me), which is located in one of those new mixed-use shopping centers, with lots of apartments upstairs and lots of shops and restaurants downstairs. I parked right across from the place, went in, got ignored by the staff for a few minutes (for no reason I could tell – the place was completely empty), ordered our food, read my book while waiting, got the food, and left. I was in there for maybe 15 minutes. I walked outside and noticed my car immediately. “Why is that so unusual?” you may ask. “Surely you know where you parked, and since it was “right across from the place”, why wouldn’t you look right at it?” “Well,” I might answer, “it was dark and lots of people drive cars like mine, so shut up.” Most people, however, do NOT leave the driver’s side door open, even if it means the dome light will be on to welcome you in (which is what I saw immediately, by the by). I’ll admit to being a little hesitant as I got closer to the car. I mean, obviously I must have left the door open. I seriously doubt some car thief got into my car and then left it like that. But what if a crazy murderer had taken the opportunity to hide in my backseat? Well, again, the light was on, and I could see that there wasn’t anyone in the car. Couldn’t see into the back, though, so I checked the trunk, too. THEN I got in and went home. (Confession: I wasn’t that scared. There were lots of people around to hear me scream if I HAD found someone in the car.) The real question is this: how on EARTH did I get out of the car and not close the door? Usually, John gets on me because I slam it instead of closing it gently. And it wasn’t just ajar or not quite latched – it was OPEN. I can’t even blame this on the cold medicine. Today was my first unmedicated day since Friday. I should maybe just go to bed. After I eat the rice krispie treat I’m pretty sure I got for free. Maybe the guy felt bad for ignoring me.
Miserable at home today*, but at least it’s drizzly and icky outside, too. Better to have the outside match the inside today. After I stopped working, I rushed for the internet looking for fun distractions. I was disappointed. I managed to spend several hours being distracted, but nothing stuck out as wonderfully fun today. I might not be in the right mood. I am in the mood for a fig newton, though. Hey, I might be hungry again. It’s amazing how much I don’t feel like eating much when I can’t taste anything. Anyway, the internet failed me this evening, and I just don’t know if I can forgive it. Also, I don’t know if I can continue making sense under the influence of cold medicine. I was about to wax rhapsodic about Stanley Tucci.
*Today was better than yesterday – I’m definitely improving.