March 31, 2005
Clean So Far
Haven't written about Schiavo, and I'm still not gonna.
However, I will write about my brother-in-law's brother, and how it is impacting my decision to draft a living will.
This young man was in a devastating car accident in October. No living will. His brain literally spun in his head.
The extent of the brain damage could not yet be assessed. He was comatose and fully dependent upon a feeding tube and respirator. The coma stretched from several days to several weeks...
Now. How is the living will to read? Is the plug pulled at this point? Is full recovery an option? (Doubtful, but a gray area.)
Consciousness was regained after a couple of months.
Presently...He seems to recognize people at times, tries to blow kisses, makes sounds, but does not meet the minimum requirements for therapy. He no longer needs the respirator, but is still dependent upon the feeding tube.
Sounds familiar, yes, but the doctors are not classifying this as a "vegetative state." Too soon perhaps.
This story has no end. He still lies in wait of a permanent diagnosis. His parents make the calls, as he had not yet wed his girlfriend. And not unlike the Schindlers, they will not be giving up on him. Ever.
What if he's still like this in a year? Is that any way to live? What kind of time frame do you put in the living will? How long do you give yourself in hopes of recovery?
As if not tragic enough, this story has a twist. While he lay in a coma, his girlfriend discovered she was pregnant. His first (and perhaps only) child is due in May.
Even had he known his own fate, I don't know how he could have drafted a living will.
Even now, if he could jump out of his damaged body long enough to make the call, how could he? End the misery or hope for a miracle?
This is beyond sad. This is a fate worse than death. There is no closure, as the family is in a state of constant mourning. Sure they visit, and they encourage until their spirit is drained. But the loss is ongoing.
Without the knowledge of this case, my living will would have been simple: If I'm unable to communicate in any form, I'm shitting my pants, and there's little to no hope for a full recovery, pull the plug.
But I look at this case, and I realize that had that been his living will, the respirator likely would have been pulled two weeks into that coma.
Would that have been better, or would it have been a complete waste? I don't know...
I don't know where to begin with this thing.
Show Comments »
".. If I'm unable to communicate in any form, I'm shitting my pants, and there's little to no hope for a full recovery, pull the plug."
There's a real good cheap shot at Acidman in there somewhere, but I wouldn't take it.
posted by
Anton on March 31, 2005 06:22 PM
That is not living. When the day comes, and I can't take care of myself, it will be time to check out. I do not want to rely on my family and kids to take care of me, let me go, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 31, 2005 07:28 PM
A terrible tale. No one knows where to begin these things. At least, if he lived in Florida, some unelected magistrate could take the decision out of everyones' hands. Down here you takes your justice where they shoves it.
posted by
Velociman on March 31, 2005 08:09 PM
I don't think there is ever a RIGHT answer for that...just another option that seems better than the other.
God, that story is tragic. Life can be cruel, can't it?
posted by
Dana on March 31, 2005 08:18 PM
My deceased wife Carrol, the love of my life, the angel who brought me to fullness of life, was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 98, we never gave up and fought till her last breath, July 5, 2000, I expended ever resource we had, every dollar, every ounce of energy, was devoted to trying to win a losing battle. We knew we would lose, but we did not quit, and sometimes I think we prolonged her life and punished her with the pain she endured. The point being, it is a very personal journey and if you've not been there, I would think it might be difficult to understand.
Every time someone dies, a wife, a husband, a child, a father or a mother, a son or daughter, there is someone left to grieve. The question is “ Do we stop living and forever grieve?” or do we continue on, and live our life, as best we can, remembering the good we have been taught, while in the presence of those who have passed? I would guess the same could be said of divorce, where one or the other was deeply in love, but I am speaking of death, because that is the final chapter in any love story. Grief is a healthy thing, but it has its place. Grief is not to over take our lives and focus us on that one aspect of life. Grief is a feeling of loss and respect, also, love and sorrow. We have lost the one we loved, the one we respected and changed our lives to abide by their wishes and to gain their respect in return. We loved them so and are so sorry we did not convey the amount of love and respect we had for them. We all live, and we all love. Do we take every day and tell those we love ,how much we love them or do we wait till they are gone and then miss them and lament, and cry “I wish I had shown them how much I loved them!”
posted by
ken on March 31, 2005 08:49 PM
I would agree with Dana above. Each case, to some extent, is different from another. My dad died of cancer a bit over 3 years ago. He died at home, as he knew (or was told) there was nothing more the hospital could do for him in the way of treatment, and did not want to prolong what he considered inevitable. Someone else might want to fight for every last second of life. But it would seem regardless of what the *survivors* might want or their hopes and fears regarding an outcome, the best way for an individual to let their loved ones (and medical personnel) know what their wishes are, is to get it in writing, be it a living will or a living trust.
As for you and your brother-in-laws brother, I wish there was a simple one size fits all answer. I do know such things (living wills/trusts) can be tailored to your exact needs and wants, and of course they can be updated as family situations and life changes. May you find a solution which fits your needs and wants the best.
posted by
Guy S on April 1, 2005 02:06 AM
Perhaps the reason this is so very hard to address is because we love the injured party and because of that very love we want to see them recover and live out the rest of there time in a healthy happy manner. Sadly we often don`t get our preferences .I`m not sure there is one answer or one solution to this problem only that as long as someone loves someone there will always be hope and as long a someone loves someone there will be a desire for a brighter tomorrow. I pray I am never placed in this situation so if you love someone please get a living will and save them the grief of having to decide in front of a world wide media circus.
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Give me a giant shot of Versed, leave me alone, I will die by myself and fuck you do gooders! Push me in a bar ditch
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March 30, 2005
Plant Killer
That would be me. Outdoor, I can handle. Indoor, not so much.
But I have this shelf in the window sill above my kitchen sink that is clearly a plant shelf. So, I attempt to keep three plants alive, each one becoming its own miracle for every day that it survives in my care.
The first is a variegated, leafy, viny thing that I'm too lazy to google. But it is the baby of a friend and excoworker's plant, who frequents this blog, but refuses to comment. (I'm sure it's killing him not to leave the name of the plant in the comments.) Anyway, this little miracle has survived about three years so far.
Next is my aloe. Love my aloe. It is the spawn of my mother's chubby aloe plant, and it is thriving to the point that it needs to be separated and repotted.
Last but not least is the baby of the group, my little cactus. It is one year and three months old. Miss Priss and I picked it out together. Unkillable I was hoping...it is a tiny thing with a prickly, red, rounded head and green stalk.
Why am I blogging about my boring plants, you ask? Because the baby is sick! Now. I ask you, green thumbers, how does an indoor plant get sick? There's no other little snot-nosed plants hanging around to contaminate it, and I water it as occasionally as I ever have.
So what up with these ugly black spots all over its pretty red head?
Show Comments »
Beer for hydration, cigarette ash for food. Works wonders. Oh, and Miracle-Gro for sustenance. I myself am very fond of aloe. You can't hurt it, and it provides so much in return.
posted by
Velociman on March 30, 2005 08:17 PM
Black spots sounds like a fungus. I think you might have watered it too much... Maybe too much water at once, or someone else watered it when you weren't looking. Otherwise I got nothing. Good luck.
posted by
caltechgirl on March 30, 2005 08:17 PM
Sing to it. I swear plants like to hear you sing to them. But I also agree with the fungus theory about your venereal-diseased cactus. Try this:
I know you don't smoke, but get some cigarette butts (or whole cigarettes), tear off the filters and steep the tobacco in hot water as if you were making tea. Use a coffee filter or an old foot out of some panty-hose to make your tea-bag.
Take the nicotine water and feed it to your plant every other day for a week. Don't give it too much at once, just enough to wet the soil in the pot, and drip some over the cactus itself.
Trust me. It works on almost anything.
posted by
Acidman on March 30, 2005 09:46 PM
Acidman is Voodooman? Damn.
I agree with V-man. Cigarette Ash, and don't mix it with anything, except a little aloe syrup. I'm not kidding.
posted by
Sam on March 30, 2005 10:02 PM
Never forget that Acidman once farmed a half-acre of land and spent a lot of time talking about plant maladies at Webb's Feed and Seed. Nicotine is not only a great insecticide, but a good remedy for fungus, too.
Wanna make a REAL batch of fix-it-all spray?
Take a whole plug of chewing tobaco and make tea out of it. Drink some really rotten beer and piss it out into a quart jar. Add one cup of baby shampoo. Toss in one cup of red pepper, and the vinegar out of some pickled habenero, or use about one-half a bottle of habenero extract.
Mix that disgusting shit together with water at about a 5-parts mix to 20 parts water ratio. Spray it on ALL of your plants. It will either kill or run off everything that is bothering you.
You need to apply a light spray about every two weeks, but if you mix one batch of my recipe, it will last all summer on a half-acre garden.
A little of that stuff goes a long way.
posted by
Acidman on March 30, 2005 11:52 PM
Just a guess, but based on your description and the fact that you haven't killed it, that first plant is probably a pothos vine. They're nearly indestructible.
posted by
Desert Cat on March 31, 2005 12:38 AM
Okay, I have been reminded via email that it is a spider plant, and no, it isn't quite as sturdy as the aloe, but then, nothing is... ;)
Acidman, do you REALLY use that mixture on your foliage? I'd be sick if I attempted to mix that, could barely stomach reading it!
posted by
Key on March 31, 2005 12:50 PM
nicotine juice is definitely the way to go. It kills damn near everything bad and keeps the bugs off the rest. Just don't spray too much of it on anything you want to eat....
posted by
caltechgirl on March 31, 2005 06:26 PM
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Sleep Patterns Screwed
Consequently, I'm having the weirdest dreams evah!
Come on, it's not like I've ever fantasized about gettin jiggy wid it in a giant ball pit... Not that it wasn't fun, but the partner in play was most unlikely.
Who?
Heh.
Show Comments »
Are you doing the blue ones again?
posted by
Yabu on March 30, 2005 06:37 PM
No... but I could use some. (assuming we're talking Vicodin and not Viagra. :D)
posted by
Key on March 30, 2005 07:11 PM
Unlikely? I'll say. He's only about four years old. I don't want to spoil your fantasy dream, but the chirrens pee in the ball pit. Can't get out in time.
Now: hows about a grown up fantasy? On the monkey bars?
posted by
Velociman on March 30, 2005 11:49 PM
Hey, that wasn't the ball pit! It was a huge ball pit, five foot deep at least. And although the star was unlikely, he WAS an adult!
posted by
Key on March 31, 2005 12:42 PM
Kim, Vman got you,
I will always like ya though, even though I can't stand up....
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March 28, 2005
Uggh.
Of course there is the maternal sigh of relief that says I survived another holiday!, but there is also a bit of a hangover effect as well.
And I love holidays, particularly the ones that mean something, but I only wish that - during these times - I could stop the clock on a beautiful day, so as to contribute appropriate attention to the matter.
None-the-less, we painted eggs, dolled up for church, and invaded my mother's house for a meal with all the fixins...then I slept before dinner, as did my foster child.
...woke this morning, prepared Miss Priss for school, and ended up tucking the other child back in after a bout of hurling, sickness confirmed with a 102 degree fever...then we both slept again.
I don't know why it took me until my stomach rolled over and declared itself dead to realize that I too am sick.
Lovely.
And...AND after a weekend of neglecting blogworld entirely, following at least a week of making a piss poor effort, I was actually going to write something of substance today. Really. Well, I was going to make the effort anyway! Hey, tomorrow is another day...
Meanwhile, I hope everyone had a good Easter.
Show Comments »
Oh, man. At least you got through church before the hurling began...
We've got the stomach virus over here, too.
Hope you guys feel better soon.
;-)
posted by
Christina on March 28, 2005 04:26 PM
No one hurling here, no cats, no people.
No one other than me to recognize the holiday, either.
You accept what you have, and value it if you're lucky.
posted by
Jack on March 28, 2005 06:28 PM
Jack, You TOO can be a foster parent! It's really not that exclusive, single parents okay, though you may have to wait til you're actually in the country! ;)
But yes, I am grateful for my miracle child on a daily basis, even as she drives me insane, I know no greater love.
posted by
Key on March 28, 2005 07:44 PM
Hurling, blowing chunks, talking to Ralph, Huey and Erk is a humiliating experience. You have my heartfelt sympathy.
Bejus knows I've had enough of that stuff lately.
posted by
Acidman on March 28, 2005 08:44 PM
A wonderful Easter! The Bride decided to blow off Easter baskets, as the kids are older, and were they hot! Skeeter said, "Where's my fricking basket?"
"Don't say fricking!"
"Fricking!"
SLAP.
Yea, verily, I got to see the resurrection of the Red Welt. I, of course, stay out of these things.
Hope you're feeling better.
posted by
Velociman on March 28, 2005 09:36 PM
Stay well Key...
posted by
Sam on March 29, 2005 08:25 AM
Good for Skeeter. The youngest child always gets short-changed by the ending of the traditions. I still want my fricking basket.
posted by
zonker on March 29, 2005 11:46 AM
I didn't notice that you were sick because you are a mother. You've likely been too busy to be sick.
Get some rest, and feel better soon.
posted by
jmflynny on March 29, 2005 09:24 PM
It used to be called Easter, but due to inevitable bloat it is Christian Holy Week now. Perhaps eventually the entire year can be swallowed up with holidays, and we will then want to celebrate "Just a Day" Day?
posted by
werbinox on March 29, 2005 09:42 PM
Damn!
That made no sense at all....
It was supposed to read..."You didn't notice you were sick..."
Oops!
posted by
jmflynny on March 30, 2005 08:27 PM
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March 25, 2005
Okay News Junkies
Beat my score. This week's weekly news quiz.
Amazingly, I didn't know as much as I thought I did. (Although, I did know most of it.)
Show Comments »
Oh dear... Only a 70% correct -- how did you do Miss Key?
posted by
john on March 25, 2005 07:00 PM
Bet'cha I beat'cha. 90%, darlin.' I missed the question about Starbuck's.
posted by
Acidman on March 25, 2005 08:54 PM
40% and proud of it. Who gives a shit about Robert Blake?
posted by
Velociman on March 25, 2005 10:06 PM
Okay, since the great Velocimaster scored lower than I, I will tell. I got a 60%, and Blake was no more than an educated guess.
Acidhead and Queenie are the junkies.
posted by
Key on March 26, 2005 10:38 AM
Cripes -- only 60% for me. (hangs head in shame)
posted by
david on March 26, 2005 03:42 PM
.. 60% for me as well.. and I don't even watch the news..
posted by
Eric on March 26, 2005 05:24 PM
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March 24, 2005
Emergency!
"Mom! American Idol comes on in fifteen minutes, and he [foster brother] is still in the tub! I've got to use your shower, or I won't be finished before it starts!"
How could I say no to that? And if she didn't take an eight minute shower (shortest evah!), and then bring her modest ass out to the living room in a towel so that she wouldn't miss a sec. Girlfriend is addicted. Just like her sistah-in-blog.
I mentioned this addiction of my daughter's to Queenie as we caught up on our relatin' today, and she didn't let me down. She had a message for my Priss: "Oh! Oh! Ask her who she thinks is gonna get kicked off!"
I obliged. Miss Priss had the answer. "Oh! Oh! Mikahla!"
I relayed to Queenie, and I was rewarded with evil excited laughter.
I think my girls bonded today. I floweth over with maternal pride.
(As a footnote, if you read the last post, and you find yourself wondering why I would subject my daughter to water contaminated with a mysterious sudsy substance... no worries. This is one day that I am grateful for my county res and county water!)
Show Comments »
Thankfully Blogdad watched NCAA action at the local watering hole. Although I must say little Queenie has a totally hot mom.
posted by
Velociman on March 24, 2005 09:46 PM
This is a test.
posted by
Acidman on March 24, 2005 11:55 PM
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Morning in the Monroe Household
Tell husband I need five more minutes, he nags "NO! Get your ass up!"
Groan, pull cat off head, stumble my scary-lookin self down the hall to assist children with wardrobe, make lunch, etc., and have them on their way in 30 minutes.
Typical morning.
Thirty minutes later...they are back. Not so typical.
School is closed. Restaurants are closed. Half the town is shut down due to water contamination:
Clabo said that costic soda is put into the water system after it is filtered, along with fluoride. One of the barrels that was supposed to contain costic soda apparently contained another substance.
"Another substance." That's great. Wonder what it might be. Wonder how it was labeled. Wonder who fucked up!
Jeez. "...best we can tell," says City Manager Clabo, "it is a very benign sudsy type material..."
Thanks, I'll just be waiting on the final word from the chemist on the whole "benign" issue.
Meanwhile, I worked all day with the chitlins. (Don't pity them. They had TV, DVDs, and internet access.) After work, I dropped my child for ball practice with all the nutrients of a Lunchable, since we didn't have time to go home, and all the restaurants are closed.
The media vans were set up in the parking lot of her school, and I think they found everyone's disinterest in their presence a bit unusual. No one went near them. We laid back folk around here. No one seemed to want to publicly gripe about the situation, not even me. (I will do so passively...here.)
To the kids, a "snow" day without the snow. To me, a slight loss in productivity, and an excuse to squirm out of the topics that I promised to deliver tonight.
(Not that you peeps were holding your breath on that one.)
Show Comments »
You wussies. That stuff is Perrier in Calcutta. Mayberry will never be a customer service Mecca.
posted by
Velociman on March 24, 2005 07:36 PM
And not to be too pedantic, but humour me. Mr. Clabo, or the paper's copy editor, should know what caustic soda is. It's what poor people throw on each other when they can't afford a Saturday Night Special.
posted by
Velociman on March 24, 2005 08:51 PM
Did you get to put the kids outside and bang your hubby, at least??
posted by
rightisright on March 24, 2005 08:57 PM
Hubby = Bossman
Run our own biz we do. Having said that, he's lucky to be alive at the end of a day like this!
posted by
Key on March 24, 2005 09:34 PM
That is just too damn weird. I live in Temple (west ga) and we had a water main or something break Saturday night, no damn water for most of Sunday, and are supposed to be boiling it
posted by
Richard on March 29, 2005 07:58 PM
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March 23, 2005
Email
I seem to be juggling accounts of late, however I have all but abandoned the hotmail account, only checking it about once a week.
The other two I check regularly, alltel from work and gmail from home. I like the gmail "tab" feature for conversations, but as the alltel account empties into outlook, it is best for multiple forwards or attachments.
Boring post, I know, but had to clarify.
I will tackle abortion, religion, sex and drugs tomorrow.
Show Comments »
Will you also give us the keys to wealth and happiness tomorrow, too?
I'm breathless in anticipation.
:-P
posted by
Jack on March 23, 2005 05:05 PM
You can also get gmail to empty into Outlook if you wish. (messages remain in gmail at the same time).
Lemme know if you're interested.
Paul
posted by
Light & Dark on March 24, 2005 03:39 AM
So, Key, did you get my email AND my snail mail??
; )
posted by
Christina on March 24, 2005 01:41 PM
Hi good looking, why so many. You only need one, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 24, 2005 05:02 PM
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March 22, 2005
I Did Not Know This
I always wondered what that thing in the toilet was called. Figures.
Show Comments »
And, strangely enough, that's also what the thing in the shower is called. Must be a bathroom thing.
posted by
Velociman on March 22, 2005 06:31 PM
yes, but do you know what a pet cock is?
posted by
og on March 22, 2005 07:00 PM
Oh, how quickly we resort to toilet humor... Methought better of you my dear.
posted by
john on March 22, 2005 08:15 PM
Hey good looking, go and look up some of your electric lines and see if you see a peckerhead. Enjoy, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 22, 2005 09:07 PM
yes, but do you know what a pet cock is?
Why yes, I do. A pet cock is a male chicken kept for companionship and/or amusement.
A "petcock" on the other hand is a small hand operated valve to release fluid, as from a sump.
Ignoramuses.
Gerry
posted by
Gerry on March 22, 2005 09:09 PM
Actually, a Pet Cock is small hand operated valve to release fluid, as from a sump. Petcock is a very recent word, made from slurring the two original words "petit" and "cock" together.
Philistines.
og
LOL!
posted by
og on March 22, 2005 10:30 PM
Og is correct about a "pet cock." (as we discussed on the phone this evening, because you didn't believe Og.) Catfish also is not being (completely) obscene when he talks about an electrical "pecker head." That's a common term for a junction box, especially where the wires connect to a motor.
If you want to talk industrial dirty, I'm your guy.
posted by
Acidman on March 22, 2005 11:52 PM
ooh, talk dirty to me, Acidman! you big Bionic Dude!
hehe!!
posted by
og on March 23, 2005 10:04 AM
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March 21, 2005
Vertigo
I'm feelin' it. I'm back. I have survived the overnighter with 9 nine-year-olds, and I did so while battling a nasty upper respiratory infection. It won of course, and had me dragging ass to my fave Indian clinic mid-Saturday.
These nine-year-olds scare me. They already act all "preteeny" with their preppy clothes, rancid gossip and passionate hatred of anything Barbie. And as I thought about it, a rather obvious realization hit me.
My gawd, she's closer to 13 than I am from 18, the turning point being when she was five. Thus the vertigo. This sucks. I am going to be the mother of a teenager!
She's a good girl. I know everywhere she goes, everything she does, everyone she's with. This will change if she is truly a chip off the old block.
I was still a good girl, but my conservative upbringing boxed me into some ridiculous social guidelines. Therefore, my mother knew what I wanted her to know, and for that matter, what she wanted to hear.
One day, my mother - my too busy to sit down because I'm blessed with the Martha Stewart gene mother - sat down and watched an episode of Oprah. Oprah said that the reason we don't know what our children are doing is because we have closed ourselves off to them so that they cannot confide in us.
So my mother approached me, aged 17 me, and instructed me to tell her just one thing that she didn't know, something I'd done that I didn't think she could handle. There would be no negative repercussion. She just wanted me to share.
Uh-huh...
I really wasn't that bad. But I did like a good party, and although my (now remarried) mother is cool, the deacon's wife version who raised me was not. So when I was partying, she thought I was at the movies or bowling. What to tell her? Definitely not the stories with cops or boyfriends, but yet something shocking enough to take full advantage of the "no negative repercussion" promise.
"Okay Mom," I began. "Remember a few weeks ago when I went out to an early dinner and then a late movie with the girls?"
"Yeeaah..."
"Well, I was with the girls, but we took off for Lake Hartwell [45 mile trek, one-way]. Brandon's parents have a house there, but they were out of town. So we met him and his friends there for a night out on the boat." Her eyes bulged a bit, but she was still breathing, so I continued, deciding though to leave out any references to alcohol. "So, we took the boat out, anchored, and hung out for a while. The problem was getting back. Brandon couldn't get the motor to turn over, so we were out there a while." Meaning that out of desperation, we ended up taking turns peeing off of the end of the boat, but I left that out as well. "As it turns out, the boat was out of gas, so the guys ended up having to swim us back to shore, pulling the boat behind them. ...And that's why I barely made curfew that night...Mom? You okay?"
She was gray. I thought she was going to pass out. "Don't tell me any more!" And with that, she left the room.
I have since enjoyed telling her more stories of my surreptitious youth, but as it turns out, I was really only breaking her in for the whirlwind that is my brother. But then, he never even bothered to keep up appearances, the rogue.
So there I sat, on an outing with a bunch of Miss Priss pals, listening attentively as they schooled me on who likes who. (And as a side-note, they no longer sit in trees. Now you will find them sittin in a gutter, eatin peanut butter, kissin each other...)
I was very attentive, and now I wonder how long I will be privy to such information. Will we find the magic compromise, and will she have more sense in her head than I did?
I'm not the worrying type. But I have worried over that child since the day she was born, and I don't see it letting up.
Show Comments »
Well, I do believe you hit the nail on that head. I'm in the same boat. You just gave me shivers. Sweet One (age 12) left for the coast with her best friend and the best friend's family on Sunday...they should return on Wednesday. I love the parents and the best friend...it's just the 16 year old brother and his best friend I'm worried about...
posted by
Christina on March 21, 2005 11:03 PM
You said it best Key!
"This will change if she is truly a chip off the old block!" I've just been through it with my only child. Sixteen! Humphhh!!!! A coupla of days ago she was two and I was changing dipers! I just gave the daughter permission to go on the pill. I'm just glad she doen't know what Mom and I were doing at here age!
posted by
Ed on March 22, 2005 10:06 AM
Congrats on surviving...sorry to hear the flu beat you.
Girls are so difficult. And we tend to "shelter" out parents, especially mothers. We all did it. It sounds like ya'll have a great relationship. Oh, I'd worry. But I think as long as the door is open for communication you'll weather it all just fine.
posted by
Tammi on March 22, 2005 10:08 AM
WOuld not have had the guts to go down that path with my mother. Unless I confessed that the Saturday she thought I was waterskiing I was really doing charity work at the Red Cross.
posted by
Velociman on March 22, 2005 12:48 PM
GREAT story!
posted by
TJ on March 22, 2005 04:11 PM
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posted by Key on
10:09 PM
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Comments (5)
March 17, 2005
St. Paddy's Day Baby
My St. Paddy's Day Baby is nine today.
I collected my strength and willed my sick ass out of bed today so that I could buy cupcakes and balloons to be delivered to the classroom of one Miss Priss, as is done at her school. (I'd still like to know who's mommy I have to thank for the whole mylars-must-be-delivered-on-the-birthday precedent...)
Of course, I may spoil her a bit on purpose. I have 24 hours to get my butt well, as I have the pleasure of dropping mucho deniro on a dozen nine year olds tomorrow night, before entertaining them at my abode for a sleepover.
Clean. Get very little sleep. Wake to new mess. I love these things!
(Perhaps, twelve years from now, if she'll still have me, I'll take Miss Priss to Savannah to ring in the 21st.)
Show Comments »
You are a goddess...and a fine mom.
I remember -- back in the day -- a gal names Mrs. Ferchack always set the birthday bar *very* high. She was the first mom to introduce cup-cones (cupcakes, made in ice cream cones, decorated with oodles of swirled icing) and Jell-O gigglers.
She never said as much, but I bet my working mother wanted to throttle her!
Feel better!
posted by
TJ on March 17, 2005 05:53 PM
Happy Birthday to Miss Priss!!
You are a Wonderful MOM!!
Hope you are feeling better, too.
posted by
Christina on March 17, 2005 08:04 PM
They have birthday parties? Novel concept. Never had one. I would be honored to buy the first round of shooters on her 21st, iffen it were in Savannah for background noise. I almost feel like family anyway. Well, if you consider Uncle Waldo part of the family.
You done well, Key. Good job.
posted by
Velociman on March 17, 2005 09:48 PM
Thanks hon. I told her tonight of land where the waters run green on her birthday. She was duly impressed: "COOL! When can we go?!"
posted by
Key on March 17, 2005 11:32 PM
Which Deniro will you drop? I kind of like Heat, cuz it also has Pacino and captures both in a more reflective, less balls-out action mode. But Shark Tale might be more appropriate for 9-year-olds.
Good Luck!
posted by
Phil on March 18, 2005 02:30 AM
Happy birthday Miss Priss!
Key..you did great! Hope you survive the sleepover, and I hope you feel much better!
posted by
Moogie on March 18, 2005 07:23 AM
I wish you a happy birthday and many more, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 19, 2005 01:07 AM
Happy birthday to Miss P....now I'm going to go do a little Gin and Juice.
posted by
Sam on March 19, 2005 07:35 AM
Very belated birthday wishes to Miss Priss! Hope she had a great day!
Feel better soon!
posted by
zonker on March 20, 2005 07:13 AM
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posted by Key on
05:30 PM
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Comments (9)
I Have Guilt
So warped...I have derived much too much pleasure, and killed way too much time Shizzolating your blogs. I have Zonker to thank for my new toy.
Suddenly, my blog roll has sprung to life!
Allow me to share:
Velocipimp does golf: The Players Championship will never has da cachet of The Masters, or British Open, of course n' shit. History n' shit. Tradition n' shit. Amen Corner n' shit. Bobby Jones." St." Andrews n' shit. Royal Troon, know what I'm sayin'? Etcetera, etcetera n' shit.
Aciddogg still wants a cookie: I seen a gravy post at this site today, 'n I really wanted comment on that shiznit n' shit. But I got da dreaded "yo' ass gots register 'n log in leave a comment" notice...
Queen G schools a reader on the art of detecting sarcasm: ..da force of da criticism overwhelms me." ..I admit that shiznit, know what I'm sayin'? ..I just hate blind muthas." ..always has." They're always out there showing off they, um, blind stuff, like those, um, dogs n' shit.
Random Bruthah studies the French language: French, at least at da level I know that shiznit now, is not quite as flexible, causing me speculate that da French use mo' colorful, image evoking expressions compensate fo' da smaller reservoir of bomb diggity.
Sam my man goes on a squirrel hunt: This is one sweet pellet gat, wit fiber optic sights, 'n an adjustable trigger n' shit. I slid a hollow point in da chamber, drew a bead, 'n popped tha dude's ass from 'bout 45 yards, know what I'm sayin'? Dis da first time I capped anything, 'cept a flowerpot, wit a hollow point pellet, 'n I'm impressed n' shit.
I only wish I had the time to shizzle all of you...
Show Comments »
I'm so glad you enjoyed that little toy...it just never occurred to me that the Shizzolator wasn't a regular toy for all the boys ang girls...
As for me, my site's motto becomes: "Let's try that shiznit 'n see what happens."
'N shit.
Peace out.
posted by
zonker on March 17, 2005 05:11 PM
Dat's da bomb diggity.
posted by
Velocipimp on March 17, 2005 05:28 PM
We need a got-dam shizolator like we need everybody having a shit-dripping asshole in the the middle of their foreheads. I don't see a fucking thing funny about it.
"Ya, bro, if I see de dis you be laying on me, I'll break out my gat and pop a cap on yo' cracker ass. I be doin' seven years standin' on my HEAD, muthafucka! Jive-ass honkie. I talks just fine and me and the hoes like it. If you don't, FUCK YOU, whitey!"
Damn, Key. That's just funny as hell, isn't it?
posted by
Acidman on March 17, 2005 06:53 PM
Miss Priss will be going to school with those thugs in a few years. See how amusing the shizolator is when that happens. I see that shit every day and I find no humor in it at all.
'N shit.
posted by
Acidman on March 17, 2005 07:02 PM
Shizzin yo cracker ass was definitely the most amusing.
We need a redneckafier as well. I know it's got to be simple, nothing more than a global replace. I'll have to consult with the tech gods on this one.
(Regarding the other, I went to a 100/0 school thru 10th, then a 50/50 my last two. Huge change, but NEVER had a problem. Say what you will, my black friends were the most open, the most blatantly honest, and the most entertaining. They harbored no ill will toward me. This is street jargon. Kel and I speak it when we chillin. It's good for the groove, so don't be hatin'!)
posted by
Key on March 17, 2005 09:37 PM
Hey Key,
Try this translator
Just Damn!
posted by
Dax Montana on March 17, 2005 11:09 PM
Key, how's this one? Maybe this one?
Good luck on the Redneck-a-fying.
posted by
Margi on March 18, 2005 12:16 AM
I tried one of the redneck translators on something I'd written and it didn't change anything...
Whut ya'll reckon is up with thet?
posted by
DaveH on March 18, 2005 08:46 AM
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posted by Key on
04:59 PM
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Comments (8)
»
Velociworld links with:
Lest Ye Doubt
»
Thunder And Roses links with:
Why can't we all just get along?
March 16, 2005
Hi Seven Hos
Cold, Nasty, Windy, Rainy, Sniffly, Scratchy, and Groggy.
Every one of them came to visit me today. How kind.
Now, if only I had a working chimney flume, some dry firewood, and something to spike my coffee...
Show Comments »
Thanks again for coming to be with Rob. It is raining like shit here also. There is two things that is good for rain, fucking and sleeping, and I am not doing neither, take care good-looking, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 17, 2005 12:50 AM
Yeah...like that here as well. Come on down, I've got some stuff to make some really good coffee. You may be cold, but you won't care. ;)
posted by
Moogie on March 17, 2005 04:56 PM
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It Is Finished.
The Noir novel is complete! Sadie had plenty of loose ends to tie up, and she did so masterfully. For full appreciation, I suggest a continuous read:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Great team Christina!
Show Comments »
Hey Key!
You certainly did your part, lady!! We would not have had O'Callaghan or Love without YOU!!
Thank you, for everything!
posted by
Christina on March 16, 2005 09:08 PM
Thanks for the kind regards, Key...and yes, we definitely needed an Irish man to soften our heroine's heart!
posted by
sadie on March 16, 2005 10:43 PM
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posted by Key on
02:26 PM
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Comments (2)
March 15, 2005
Away From My Desk
I was online Saturday just long enough to submit the last post. Then I had to do laundry, pack, and explain to the family why I had to be out of town for 36 hours. How to explain...
Us freaky bloggers. We're like a bunch misfit superheros. We have these strange powers that no one else needs or even gives a shit about, yet we value our dysfunction, flaunt our mutations, and strut like bunch of damn peacocks all the while.
A mosaic of personalities blend like pure water washing over raw sodium. We drink, flirt and fight like a herd of Sylacuagan step-siblings, but when it's time to be there for a friend, we know our way around respect and loyalty.
We also know how to fellowship and commune. That would be in a bar booth, clanking our salted rims.
Waitress: "You all from around here?"
Why does everyone stare at the outsiders? "Naw, we're from uh, yeah, not here, but it's very pretty and we're hanging with locals..." At least Eric and I mumbled something to that effect (and of course hoped that she didn't associate tourists with shitty tipping.)
Georgia took over, drowning out a mid-sentence Recondo, "Yeah, we live on the outskirts of town, so does that one on the end..."
The waitress, brownie points for attentiveness, turned her gaze to the two gentlemen who hadn't contributed.
"Yes, actually I am originally from Savannah," Velocisuave offered.
One left. All eyes on Cat. Feeling the peers, he eventually looked up from his menu, "Oh... Well, I fucked just 'bout everybody in Savannah." Straight-faced. Then back to his menu; the man was hungry. This was no time to chat about his childhood.
Gotta love Cat. Therapy for the soul, as was Savannah.
Beautiful town. I could consider living there, just for the vision of those spectacular trees burdened with Spanish moss. (I thought of bringing a bunch of it back with me and throwing in my own trees - as my mother did upon return from Savannah when I was a child - but I resisted.)
Spectacular weather and perfect backdrop, Miss Elva could not have asked for a more beautiful day.
(As a P.S., got to meet Gennie as well! She came by the viewing to pay her respects, and was surprised by the group of bloggers who greeted her before she could make it inside. Kudos to this sweet child, btw, who showed to support the boy who is seemingly addicted to pulling her pigtails!)
Show Comments »
Nice writing, Super Key!
posted by
zonker on March 16, 2005 09:06 AM
LOL, well thanks. I recognized you from the Georgia Blogger Bash photos from Rob's site. He was right...hot mama. ;)
It was nice meeting all of you. I should've warned everyone beforehand that when I get around people I've just met, I tend to ramble and repeat myself. I hope I didn't do that too bad with you guys.
Oh Rob. I think, deep down, that he really likes me. I don't mind him pulling my pigtails. I just hope he knows that I'll throw rocks in retaliation. :) Rob's a good guy and I'm really glad I was able to meet him. Maybe one day I'll post something that won't piss him off. LOL.
Take care.
posted by
Gennie on March 16, 2005 02:34 PM
You write as if I never pulled YOUR pigtails before.
posted by
Acidman on March 16, 2005 07:15 PM
You write as if that's an honor! Try being an equal opportunity street terror, why not pull Eric or Velociman's pigtails?
posted by
Key on March 16, 2005 07:49 PM
Georgia was aghast at your comments. She has never cut anyone off in her life.
Rick
posted by
recondo32 on March 16, 2005 09:34 PM
LOL! (Love ya Georgia.)
posted by
Key on March 16, 2005 11:22 PM
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posted by Key on
10:29 PM
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Comments (6)
March 12, 2005
Thoughts With You
A dear friend has lost his Mama. The rest of us lose a Southern belle. Specifically, one of the old-fashioned variety who understand the powers of love, nurture, and outwitting every male in the household...(although the last is rarely conceded.)
I didn't know her, but I wish I had. Pissy though it made him, I love that she did this. She understood her unique power against this stubborn son of hers, and she used it to ensure he would take care of himself.
Rob requests donations be sent in lieu of flowers to the folks who took such excellent care of his Mama.
Show Comments »
posted by Key on
03:07 PM
|
Comments (0)
March 10, 2005
Can't Prove It!
He can YAP IT UP, but he can't prove anything.
But it only stands to reason that blog parents should eventually tire of raising an enigma and demand to meet her...repeatedly, in fact, until she finally managed to find a way to pull it off. Never doubt my girl. Pull it off she did, even adding a generation to the mix, as I had early on adopted Kel as my blogmama.
Ahh...The paint is still drying on the family portrait.
Show Comments »
Perhaps I only added you for artistic license.
posted by
Velociman on March 10, 2005 11:29 PM
And perhaps I didn't. Let's ask Bono. He was there.
posted by
Velociman on March 10, 2005 11:51 PM
It was tremendous fun meeting all three of you. I hope we can all get together and do it again, soon...although, I might mention, Mister MacFarland is somewhat nervous about letting me go out in the Big City very often. Oh, he's not worried about my car breaking down, or me getting murdered - he's worried about me. In the Big City.
I can't imagine why. At any rate...Key, you are a sexy beast. Velociman, you are a hunka hunka burnin' love. Kelley, you are a piece of work.
It was delightful...
posted by
Queenie on March 11, 2005 01:20 AM
I am jealous!
posted by
Acidman on March 11, 2005 06:30 PM
Acidman: Mission Accomplished.
posted by
Velociman on March 11, 2005 07:26 PM
Key - (and you other guys, too) it's SWWBO's birthday today, and I'm throwing her a surprise party in her comments - stop by and say hello?
http://www.thedonovan.com/beth/archives/cat_disaster.html#003766
posted by
John of Argghhh! on March 12, 2005 11:34 AM
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posted by Key on
11:10 PM
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Comments (6)
»
Inblognito links with:
Aves
Delusions of Grandeur
Am I published yet?
What? First I must write something?
Fine. Send my advance.
Show Comments »
Write about your life and times as a teenager and young adult, also publish some pictures of your beatiful body and that very pretty face, it will be a best seller, take care and see you in April, I got something for you, when I see you, Cat.
posted by
catfish on March 11, 2005 11:09 PM
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March 09, 2005
Now I Have Something to Grope
When I first mentioned the toy, I did not have one in my possession.
Now I do. I have made the purchase.
Perhaps instead of half rubber, we should consider playing spiky gelatinous faux testicle stress ball at the next meet.
(If that's not a positive attitude towards stress relieving therapeutics, I don't know what is.)
Show Comments »
As long as you don't take a stick to REAL testicles, I don't see anything wrong with your "toy." Bribg it to Jeckyll.
posted by
Acidman on March 9, 2005 06:49 PM
Um..what would the men play with?
posted by
Moogie on March 9, 2005 07:46 PM
Let them bring their own balls!
posted by
Michele on March 9, 2005 09:28 PM
Stay away from me at Jekyll.
That is all.
posted by
Velociman on March 9, 2005 09:40 PM
Reminds me of the joke, "You know why dogs lick their ---?" Mever mind.
posted by
Jim - PRS on March 9, 2005 10:53 PM
And, oh! You are off the half-rubber team. Although you can wear the "uniform" anyway.
posted by
Velociman on March 10, 2005 12:21 AM
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posted by Key on
05:54 PM
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Comments (6)
March 08, 2005
No Thanks, I'm Trying to Quit
Hey, everyone has their addictions.
Show Comments »
If you quit, I will...
posted by
murry on March 11, 2005 05:14 AM
Is this monkey with a monkey on his back an example of fractal, self-referential post-modernism?
Chinese boxes, anyone?
posted by
Brett on March 26, 2005 01:39 AM
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posted by Key on
02:19 PM
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Comments (2)
March 07, 2005
My Baby Lives
I've been worried about my youngest blog child, as he disappeared on me for a while there.
He is the black sheep a bit different, being a liberal and all, but he is thought provoking, debate worthy and needs some traffic. So, do Key a favah, and go visit my boy.
(And Jack, if you recall, this one's yours, so how 'bout pimpin' him a bit! I think he really is a chip off the 'ol block...)
Show Comments »
Yep, still alive--just a little sleepy after replacing a good chunk of my brain with Fun Facts About Differential Equations. The joys of life as a grad student...
posted by
The Polite Liberal on March 7, 2005 11:21 PM
I came, I saw, I went. I won't be going back, either.
posted by
Acidman on March 8, 2005 03:06 PM
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posted by Key on
03:17 PM
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Comments (2)
March 06, 2005
Was I A Brat?
I look at the way Miss Priss treats her foster brother, and I wonder if I was half as bad - or maybe even twice as bad - to my little brother when we were growing up.
Somehow I think it more justified in my case. My brother was a true hellion. At age 5, he ran around nude (save his cowboy boots and pistol), he ran even faster when being chased with a switch (often adopting Daffy Duck sound effects), he ran away from home (often), he ran off his friends (daily), and he terrorized me the rest of the time.
I was laid back, he was crazy as hell. I was rational, he was anything but. So, I got my shits and giggles by making fun of him until he unleashed his inner Tazmanian devil on my ass.
One day, he was chasing me around the house, as he was bored and had already run off the poor child from next door. I soon tired of his game, stopped, turned and grabbed his nose, like the dorky adults did before taunting, "Gotcher nose!"
...which is exactly what I said before I took off running again. I have no idea why I did that, other than the fact that I hated it when the dorky adults did it to me. But I'm glad I did it, because his reaction was priceless.
He pulled in a shocked breath before demanding, "GIVE. IT. BACK!"
Now he's my brother, so I already thought he was retarded, but this was too much, like winning the lotto. "No way!" I yelled back as I continued running with newfound vigor.
He was on my heels, "Give it back! Waaaaaah! Give me back my nose! MOOOOOM!!"
It was difficult to keep up the pace given my hysterical laughter, but I persevered. Now the "baby" of the family was favored....more was expected out of me, therefore I was seriously punished for picking on the little guy. However, I couldn't imagine catching hell for this, so I have no clue how long I dragged it out...
But I did not tire of running and laughing as he continued to step up his plea for his nose. Finally, his uncontrollable sobbing rendered him incapable of running any further, and he crumpled to the floor in one of his famous tantrums.
This finally drew out a perplexed mom, who had apparently been capable of tuning out the rest. Perplexed, because usually when one child is victimized, the other one fears disciplinary action.
Yet, there I stood, a few feet behind my wailing brother, doubled over in laughter.
"MOM! She won't give it back! Tell her to give it back! Tell her!"
I held up empty hands to my mother.
"What honey? What does she have?"
"MY NOSE! Make her give it back!"
I laughed harder, if that's possible, and mom turned her back and covered her face with her hands to regain her own composure. Once gained, of course, she ordered me to return the nose.
I must have sported a most incredulous look, as I wondered how I was going to do that. She read it apparently, and prodded, "Just do it!" I think she just wanted out of the room so she could let out the breath she was holding in an effort to stifle laughter.
So I looked at the flailing pain in my ass and poked him in the nose. "There!" I said, and then waited for a reaction to the placebo.
He sniffled, pulled himself together, and walked away, giving me the mom sided with me stare.
(And I remained amused, already anticipating the day he'd be old enough to appreciate his own reaction, which would then be broached mercilessly...)
Show Comments »
Oh lord that's good! :D
I didn't know anyone actually fell for that gag.
posted by
Desert Cat on March 7, 2005 01:14 AM
Big smile for that story, Key!!
posted by
Christina on March 7, 2005 11:04 AM
Of COURSE you were a brat! All sisters fall into this category! And you should be ashamed for taking advantage of your poor little brother in such a way... LOL
posted by
WarWagon on March 7, 2005 12:01 PM
Absolutely priceless!
posted by
Moogie on March 7, 2005 12:10 PM
That's too funny. I remember beating on my (4 years younger)brother way back in the days. Now he's a foot taller than me. Good thing he doesn't hold a grudge!
posted by
Kate on March 7, 2005 05:28 PM
Well, as older brothers and sisters are, consistantly able to do...you won out....by a nose.
Great post!
posted by
Guy S on March 7, 2005 05:33 PM
One time, I did something that got my lil' sis' severly pissed off. I don't remember exactly what it was. There were so many things to pick on... Anyway, I had a 10 gallon aquarium in my bedroom, and I was standin' in front of it tauntin' her. She decided she'd had enough of that shit, and come at me like a bull. I moved aside like a matador. She broke the aquarium with her noggin' and all the fish and water poured out onto the bedroom floor.
I shit you not. She didn't get cut, the glass just crumbled which I was glad about, hopin' to avoid the ass whippin' that I just knew was comin' when Dad got home. That was one of my mamma's favorite sayin's... "Just wait 'til your dad gets home". Shoot, bein' a dad now, it's a wonder he EVER came home. Bein' the family "enforcer" has it's downside...
posted by
RedNeck on March 7, 2005 05:49 PM
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Moving Right Along...
Chapter Five is up! Nice job getting our guys outta that little jam, Liv!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Show Comments »
You had a lot to do with putting 'em in that jam, right? Heh Heh!
posted by
Yabu on March 6, 2005 07:22 PM
Liv did great!
Can you believe there's only one chapter left??
After Sadie ties everything together...I think I'll go into withdrawals.
Thanks!
; )
posted by
Christina on March 6, 2005 09:39 PM
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posted by Key on
04:38 PM
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Comments (2)
March 05, 2005
Home Renovation Pics
As many of you know, I bought my home out of foreclosure four years ago. Someone was obviously pissed to have lost his home, either that or the place became a neighborhood hang out once it was abandoned.
Skylights and toilets littered the yard. The holes in the ceiling (where the skylights had been) allowed every season of weather into the living room. The half bath boasted the same purple carpet featured in the "before" pics below, along with mirrored tile walls.
As my husband was working full-time, I was the one with enough time on my hands to manage the subs for the project, so I made the executive decision to gut the place and basically start over. Nothing was salvageable save the oversized and elevated rock hearth surround on the fireplace.
I laid out the ideas to my main carpenter, and fortunately his back woods, misogynistic mentality only saw fit to question my judgment (by clearing something first with the husband) once. After that he called me "Boss." Okay, and as often, "Legs."
The project took four months. I loved every minute of it, and miraculously, stayed within budget, closing after renovations with an 80% LTV, meaning I (thankfully) MADE money on the upgrades.
Here are a couple of "before" pics:
And the following "after" pic shows the same two rooms, but from the opposite angle:
What you can't see is the left side of the kitchen, which includes a built-in desk (where I connect from home and bitch about my dial-up), several feet of countertop/cabinets and a pantry.
And I know, I have a crooked light fixture and a need for new light bulbs. (Or maybe the flaws aren't as obvious to everyone!)
I've been pleased though. And, of course, that would have to be my story either way, since I am responsible for the changes, but - this time - it also happens to be the truth.
A woman has to love her Kitchen...Real Estate 101.
Show Comments »
Beautiful! But, I can only see about 1/3 of the second picture (on the right). Am I the only one?
I LOVE what you have done.
posted by
Moogie on March 5, 2005 05:58 PM
You should be proud! It looks wonderful.
posted by
Tammi on March 5, 2005 06:26 PM
We've been doing a lot of the same thing you are; redoing an 'old' farmhouse is time consuming and expensive, but we are almost finished!!
posted by
Michele on March 5, 2005 07:21 PM
Just beautiful!
posted by
Christina on March 5, 2005 07:29 PM
Very nice reno work. Where did you say you live? Those holes in the wall look eerily familiar. I may have done those after a crystal meth deal gone bad. Unfortunately, when I say I did it, I mean my body did it.
posted by
Velociman on March 5, 2005 09:55 PM
It's one thing to buy a house and decorate it and another to buy a house and re-construct it. The reconstructed home bears part of your Soul...a deeper investment, if you will. You did an excellent job! Some more pics would be nice...
posted by
Dana on March 6, 2005 01:53 AM
The "before" pictures remind me of a few places where I've lived. The "after" pictures look nice.
posted by
Acidman on March 6, 2005 08:01 AM
That's beautiful!
posted by
zonker on March 6, 2005 11:13 AM
The first two, well, I've been there before. It was fun......
posted by
Yabu on March 6, 2005 11:32 AM
Wow!!! I'm impressed and you should be very proud!
posted by
WarWagon on March 7, 2005 12:00 PM
You did a great job. You need to make money with your skills and open an business, Cat.
posted by
Catfish on March 7, 2005 11:30 PM
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March 02, 2005
Record
Most posts in one day. Ever. I think. (If you want to fact check me on that though, be my guest!)
Whew... Might have to take the day off tomorrow!
Show Comments »
Mugged by the Muse, were we?
posted by
Jack on March 3, 2005 04:35 AM
You probably had guest-blggers do it all.
posted by
Acidman on March 3, 2005 01:31 PM
For some strange reason, I just felt like sharing more than I typically do...self-mutilation and all!
posted by
Key on March 3, 2005 09:03 PM
I did 14 in one day about a month ago. Of course, it was Saturday, and I was in a booze-addled rage for 12 hours. I think 1 or 2 were okay, though.
posted by
Velociman on March 3, 2005 11:49 PM
You are, of course, my hero.
posted by
Moogie on March 4, 2005 07:24 AM
See Key I can walk as far as the commputer and not fall and hurt my self Loved are talk look forward to seeing you in April. Love ga
posted by
georgia on March 4, 2005 11:47 PM
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posted by Key on
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Self-Mutilation
...but I like to call it surgery.
My dermatologist begs me to "stop picking!" "Make me blemish-less, and I won't pick," I respond. And then we go back to discussing his world travels.
I've seen him lance stuff. And I think that for $300, I can do it myself. So tonight, I finally tired of a small, nodular, but bigger than a sty-looking thing in the corner of my eye.
Don't touch the eye! I know. That is why I left the damn thing alone for well over a month. But it wasn't healing, and as it seemed to be content to have bedded down permanently, I decided it had to be sliced. So I collected my tools - alcohol rubs, magnifying mirror, exacto knife - and I went to work.
Why is the skin so different around the eye? Too stretchy, too thin, and [holy friggin crap] too sensitive. The tearing certainly didn't help, but mission accomplished and, yes, I still have an eyeball.
I wonder if I am one of only a few with this compulsion. You see, if there is any sort of nastiness gathering under my skin, I can't get to it fast enough. Must kill it, explode it, level it, collateral damage be damned. What with this "apply compress and wait for it to go down" crap? What am I trying to show it my nurturing side? So I read that on a helpful site from the office, then I came home and lanced the beast!
Who are they talking to anyway? Who has that kind of will power?
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Anyone who doesn't admit to locking the bathroom door and assaulting the errant warhead is a damned liar. The toughies are the nether regions, when you have to work off a multiple mirror setup in X-tremely Sensitive Territory.
posted by
Velociman on March 2, 2005 11:25 PM
I so agree with you!!! Ugh, it's not possible to leave that stuff alone. You wouldn't believe the long list of "don't dos" we got in nursing school. I memorized it, regurgitated it, spouted it to poor helpless patients and... paid not one bit of attention when it came to me... heh.
posted by
Teresa on March 3, 2005 01:29 AM
me too. And my husband, too.
I can't stand to leave that kind of thing alone!
posted by
Beth on March 3, 2005 11:34 AM
It's an ugly experience, but sometimes it simply has to be done. I'm fortunate. I still have about 50 diabetic-gauge needles from back in my "fix-a-flat" days. I figure that if I could stick one of those needles in my goddam DICK, I could use one to lance any "rising" I get.
It works, too.
posted by
Acidman on March 3, 2005 01:38 PM
I had a "thingy" on my left upper eyelid.
I used a fresh pair of fingernail clippers - to me it worked better to "snip" it instead of cut it...
Mark --
posted by
Mark -- on March 3, 2005 01:51 PM
.. that was hardcore..
posted by
Eric on March 3, 2005 02:38 PM
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posted by Key on
10:59 PM
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Short Answer
...because the long answer to the "why blog?" question is simply unknown.
Although a couple of my posts of late have poked fun at the freakish aspects of blogging, I do have at least one reason for it (other than the obvious, which is an enjoyment of writing). It's a very controlled, yet lazy, means of socializing. Christina listed a few obvious cons. Consider these pros:
1) Surfing the roll allows one to enjoy other people's company discriminately without being obvious. They're boring, click. Gone. Next. They're intriguing, stalk for hours. It's like having a people remote.
2) The party meets on my watch, and no one knows if I bothered to fix my hair or shave my legs.
3) Within my forum, I hold a captive audience, meaning I have the floor whenever and for as long as I want! You can tell me to shut the hell up in my comments, but a) You can't interrupt me to tell me that, and b) I don't have to listen.
Okay, so the answer could have been shorter. I could have just said, "passive-aggressive attention seeking," but that description seemed almost childish.
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Almost from the beginning for me, YOU have been one of the major positives of blogging, right along with Jack and Eric.
Thanks!
posted by
Christina on March 2, 2005 11:07 PM
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posted by Key on
10:12 PM
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Admissions of Hooliganistic Behavior
...definitely deserve a link. Appalling, yet amusing.
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Thank you my friend...I have many many more to jot down...
posted by
Yabu on March 2, 2005 03:56 PM
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posted by Key on
03:15 PM
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An Introduction
Blogworld, meet my backyard.
The dig site is literally walking distance. It is [was] a near opening golf course in the middle of horse country.
I figured some noteworthy accomplishment would put Mayberry on the map, and this fella is certainly a charmer.
Braselton hasn't had this much attention since Kim Basinger lost $19 million on us, not that I saw a penny of it.
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I would suspect foul play was involved if anyone is found burried under a golf course. They're not looking for a body, they're looking for bones.
posted by
Yabu on March 2, 2005 01:58 PM
.. following your Basinger link.. did you see the error on that page?.. in The Natural, it said she was the chick who blasted Redford.. nope, it was the OTHER crazy chick that shot him.. sheehs.. sure, she pulled a gun on Redford, but he took it away from her..
posted by
Eric on March 2, 2005 05:39 PM
Not something I'd really want my backyard to be famous for.
posted by
Moogie on March 2, 2005 06:26 PM
That guy just looks like he needs a .45 hole between his eyes.
posted by
Dash on March 2, 2005 08:33 PM
Braselton?! Damn, Key...you're just up the road.
posted by
zonker on March 5, 2005 05:16 PM
Yep, secret's out!
There's a decent handful of us Atlanta area suburbanites. In fact, I've thought of having an Atlanta mini-meet, but you know how these things tend to grow... ; )
posted by
Key on March 5, 2005 08:11 PM
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posted by Key on
01:40 PM
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Two Hour Lunch
Monday through Friday, 9am to 12pm and 2pm to 4pm.
What are...pediatrician hours! 20 per week!
Not complaining. I like it. In fact, I like it so much, that I find myself wondering: Why don't we let them set the standard for the work week?
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I'd vote for it.
posted by
Moogie on March 2, 2005 06:27 PM
Well, if the pediatrician is any good... the day goes kinda like this... depending on the number of hospitals he has patients at
Morning rounds at the hospital between the hours of 6am and 8:30am
Get to the office see the scheduled patients and possibly have some emergency appointments
12-2 (lunchtime) - this will likely start at 1pm because of backups in the morning schedule... maybe 1:30 or 1:45 on bad days. maybe grab a bite to eat at the desk while returning phone calls from parents and the hospital. Possibly a quick trip to the hospital if one of the patients is really sick
See the afternoon schedule of patients. Supposed
to end at 4pm - very likely doesn't end until 5:30 or 6pm. Back over to the hospitals for evening rounds.
Not to mention the calls from the hospital or other doctors that will interupt him while he's with other patients. (yeah, switch your thoughts on a dime from the current patient in the office with an ear infection to the kid in the hospital who broke his leg and is in traction...)
Home between 7 to 9pm... unless there's an emergency. Then if you're on call, you will be getting phone calls the rest of the night from parents with sick kids and the hospital needing orders for kids who have an emergency later.
Get up at 4:30 or 5am and start again the next day.
Now you know why I didn't even think of becoming a doctor, especially a pediatrician! Nope - don't want that schedule at all. *grin*
posted by
Teresa on March 2, 2005 06:58 PM
Small town. We don't have a hospital! That's not to say she doesn't occasionally go, but I'm betting it isn't a daily ritual.
But your point is valid, particularly for her competition, which is looking really good right about now...
My baby is still miserable after three days on [what I know to be] a weak antibiotic. And she won't call in anything else, so this irritation by far trumps the hours.
posted by
Key on March 2, 2005 08:22 PM
Have you tried the new Sudafed plug ins? My baby had a miserable time at night breathing... used one of those suckers and it helped him big time. They are kind of pricey, but it was well worth the nights sleep I got! (This is assuming your baby's miserable condition is respiratory related).
posted by
PamelaRN on March 2, 2005 10:31 PM
Oh bummer... unfortunately if the baby is already on an antibiotic - it's too late to find out what kind of infection it might be *sigh*. Any kind of swab test would be negated by the bit of medication that's there.
When my son was 3, I took him in with the symptoms of... "I know there's something wrong" (that was it, fussy, irritable, no fever, no sore throat, no ear infection) They did a throat culture just in case... turned out to be a severe case of strep!!! Yeah I did say - NO FEVER! Took 3 rounds of the strongest antibiotic they could give him at the time. Scared the living daylights out of me!
If you don't think this doc is getting it right, it might be worth your time to find another and get a second opinion. Never underestimate your own intuition about your kids! A second opinion might not make things better... then again it might.
posted by
Teresa on March 3, 2005 01:23 AM
Thank you guys for your helpful advice. I am watching her suffer very slow improvement on this weak sulfa antibiotic (for a severe ear infection!), but fortunately she's a pretty sturdy kid. I hate it though.
When I was a kid, I was sent home with the refrigerator pink stuff and felt better the next day. She went to the Dr. on Monday and has been miserable all week.
(Oh yeah, and I should tell you guys. My "baby" is 8. I can't help it. She'll always be my baby...)
posted by
Key on March 3, 2005 09:00 PM
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posted by Key on
01:24 PM
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March 01, 2005
My Simple Life
Do not let the blogfaddah fool you. He is merely bursting with incestuous paternal pride.
I am but a plain and simple child, aging child at that, country when country wasn't cool...
See Exhibit "A." This would be the family and friends congregating at the folks' farm. Think we posed for that picture? Nope. We'd been sitting there on that porch all day, like good country folk. The thin layer of smoke in the air was either from the boiled peanuts or the low country boil...can't remember which one we had going on that day.
Front and center with gangly limbs, brown roots and ponytail would be your hostess. Yes, I know it's fuzzy. That is to obscure the faces of the innocent. (Or because I don't feel like re-scanning it.)
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Aging?
AGING!!!!
Tell me about aging in a decade, you young thing...
posted by
Jack on March 1, 2005 04:45 PM
See that boy on the left side of the porch? Kinda keeping away from everybody and wearing only a pair of shorts?
For a minute there, I thought you had ME in that picture.
posted by
Acidman on March 1, 2005 04:49 PM
That's what I call a raining porch. Yeap, that would be one.
posted by
Yabu on March 1, 2005 07:01 PM
I'm thinking Margaret Bourke-White, or Let Us Now Praise Famous Men...
posted by
Velociman on March 1, 2005 11:27 PM
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posted by Key on
04:37 PM
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HammerHead
