I love the way dogs react to snow after they haven't really seen it for a year (or ever, in Marlowe's case.) Fun.
White Christmas Eve
Longest Night
Done!
Here's the last picture taken of me with all my internal organs:
Justin took me to the surgery center yesterday afternoon. I was super terrified. We were early and so sat around with my dad, siblings and aunt for about an hour before they called me back. You know, just so that I could build up the nerves a bit more. My terror was fully reflected in my blood pressure reading of 163/116, (the previous week in the office it was something like 112/60) which prompted them to take an EKG. Everything looked fine, and so we moved on. It is possible, that my blood pressure was so high because they took it shortly after starting this, the most painful IV EVER:
And that my mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with a stick of deodorant. Which is why in that picture I'm drinking what could possibly be the worst Diet Sprite in the world. A few minutes later my family came back in to see me. I'm a little foggy about everything that happened right around then, but I was glad to see them, and happy that it was over with and extremely happy that I still had morphine running around inside me. Justin helped me get dressed, which is when I saw my incisions for the first time. They look like this:
Justin took me to the surgery center yesterday afternoon. I was super terrified. We were early and so sat around with my dad, siblings and aunt for about an hour before they called me back. You know, just so that I could build up the nerves a bit more. My terror was fully reflected in my blood pressure reading of 163/116, (the previous week in the office it was something like 112/60) which prompted them to take an EKG. Everything looked fine, and so we moved on. It is possible, that my blood pressure was so high because they took it shortly after starting this, the most painful IV EVER:
That picture was actually taken -after- surgery, so I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, after my blood pressure came down to that of a semi-normal person they let me hang out with a saline drip for awhile so that I 'd be hydrated before surgery. (I hadn't had anything to drink in about 10 hours at this point.) Then they kicked my aunt (who was such a huge support throughout this, I cannot even begin to imagine where I'd be if she hadn't been in there.) out of the room, gave me a dose of Versed (otherwise known as "I don't care serum" and wheeled me into surgery. The last thing I clearly remember is moving from my gurney onto the surgery table, and worrying about how much of my butt the OR tech guy just saw. Then I was out.
This is what everyone else in the room was seeing:
Yes, those are my insides, looking like burnt meat...which is, I guess, what they are. The gallbladder is all white like that because Dr. Howe cut off it's blood supply. Isn't my liver lovely and pink? Please ignore the large mass of yellow fat.
What seemed like about 3 minutes (but was really nearly 2 hours) later, I was waking up back in my recovery room. I don't really remember any pain at that point, except that my bladder felt like it was absolutely going to burst. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I need to pee. (probably more like AHneepee)
Dr. Coleman :You can't stand up yet.
Me: I REALLY need to pee. (REALNEPE)
Dr.Coleman: In a minute!
Me: My back hurts. (beeeheh)
Dr. Try scooting up on the bed.
(Apparently anesthesiologists are fluent in the language of post anesthesia garble.) My mouth was filled with lidocaine jelly from the tube that was down my throat during surgery, which didn't help any in the enunciation department.
They made me scoot up on the bed (very difficult) and I suppose at that point, determined that I could use my legs. Dr. Coleman and someone...a nurse? OR tech? I have no idea, helped me to the bathroom, which is when I realized that I was in a lot of pain. I also realized that I looked like hell:
And that my mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with a stick of deodorant. Which is why in that picture I'm drinking what could possibly be the worst Diet Sprite in the world. A few minutes later my family came back in to see me. I'm a little foggy about everything that happened right around then, but I was glad to see them, and happy that it was over with and extremely happy that I still had morphine running around inside me. Justin helped me get dressed, which is when I saw my incisions for the first time. They look like this:
There's also one just at the bottom of my belly button, but I couldn't see that one until later because of the swelling. There's a little hernia behind it, so they had to go in at a different place than usual, but whatever. Now, the tiny hole on the left up there is bleeding and gross, but no one seems to think it's anything serious.
I also finally got to look at the rocks that I've been growing inside me:
I'm kind of proud that they're so uniform in size and shape. If you're going to have gallstones, they might as well be attractive ones, right? So, that was that. Last night I had a weird reaction to my Vicodin, which not only made quite the chatty Cathy, it made me itch all over. Causing me to scratch open one of my glued together incisions. I've switched to a different pain pill, so hopefully that won't happen again tonight. So far the Darvocet has just made me sleepy. I was in and out of the car frequently today, and I'm having kind of a lot of pain. I also have some mysterious bruises on the back of my left arm the shape of fingerprints, which I can only assume are from them moving me back to my gurney from the OR table. I have no memory of that little switch, which is probably for the best. The number of people who potentially saw my butt right then must have grown dramatically. I'm not sure why I wasn't allowed to wear my panties, nothing was going on below the waist, but whatever. And that's the end of that. I feel lucky that I'm not having any of the pain that's normally associated with being blown up like a balloon for surgery. There doesn't seem to be any leftover gas floating around inside me, and all the pain is right around the incisions and deep inside me, where my barbecued guts are. Apparently it could be much worse. I'll be going back to work on Sunday.
10
4 Days
On Tuesday when I knew that my surgery was 8 days away, that sounded like a long time. On Wednesday "one week" still sounded a long way away. But now it's only FOUR days, and that sounds much too soon. Especially since I'll be working for the next 3 days and work days always -fly- by. Stress level: 5.
Christmas Sweaters & Pap Smears
I made the dogs Christmas sweaters. It's been really cold here, and Maybe, especially, has been shivery since we had to shave part of her hair to treat eczema.. Marlowe is always shivery since he's got such short hair. Anyway, I think they like them.You can't really tell in the picture, but they're kind of a dark blue-green and shiny! They're also super soft. I feel crafty. -grin-
Moving on, has anyone else seen this stupid commercial from CBS Cares, suggesting that, as a Christmas gift (there's actually a Hanukkah version too), husbands should schedule pap smears for their wives?
Whose idea was that? I'm pretty sure that if I received a pap smear for Christmas, from anyone besides my OB/Gyn, they would be in a world of hurt. I'm also positive that I'm not the only girl who feels this way, so to all the significant others out there wondering about the perfect gift, go for anything but a cold speculum and an exam room.
Giggle
I'm not super into babies, but I don't see that there's any possible way to watch this video without laughing.It's my absolute favorite thing right now.
It's Official
I saw the surgeon (Dr. Howe) today, and it's official, my gallbladder will be sucked out next Wednesday, December 16. So that's um...about one week, 7 hours and 20 minutes (give or take) from right now. Yay? I'm nervous, but I know I'll feel better and it will be good for it all to be over with in any case. Plus, I heard a rumor that I'll get a video of the surgery. Sort of like a gift with purchase, who can resist that?
Also, since I might miss my (horrible) gallbladder, I think I'd like one of these cute plush ones. Except that I'm bothered by the fact that it's purple and not green...hmm. (That website has lots of stuffed organs by the way, if, you know, you're just dying to own a cuddly pancreas.)
Taco Saturday
Justin gets the credit for this one. I found the recipe, but he did all the work. He says it was really easy, and so it must be. Please excuse the bite taken out of the taco in this picture. I couldn't resist for long enough to get Justin to bring the camera.
Crock Pot Chicken Tacos:
1 bag frozen corn (I used the kind that has both white and yellow kernels, mostly because it's pretty.)
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed)
3-4 frozen boneless, skinless chicken breasts (depending on how many people you want to feed and whether you want leftovers.)
About 1 cup of salsa (Whatever brand you prefer, I used medium heat Pace, you can also use more or less depending on your taste.)
Taco shells (obviously)
A palmful of taco seasoning.(Again, however much you like.)
Put the chicken, corn, beans, taco seasoning and salsa in the crock pot on low heat. There's no need to stir anything at this point. Just stack it up and turn it on.
In about an hour, stir everything up.
Leave the mixture in the crock pot on low heat for about 5 hours.
Check the chicken. If it's done, use a fork to shred it up, stir everything around and put it into heated taco shells.
Justin ate his with Mexican blend cheese, but I don't like cheese on my tacos. These were AMAZING. Much better than I even expected. It was nice to wake up to dinner already done. The house smelled amazing, and I think they're generally pretty figure friendly, for tacos.
Crock Pot Chicken Tacos:
1 bag frozen corn (I used the kind that has both white and yellow kernels, mostly because it's pretty.)
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed)
3-4 frozen boneless, skinless chicken breasts (depending on how many people you want to feed and whether you want leftovers.)
About 1 cup of salsa (Whatever brand you prefer, I used medium heat Pace, you can also use more or less depending on your taste.)
Taco shells (obviously)
A palmful of taco seasoning.(Again, however much you like.)
Put the chicken, corn, beans, taco seasoning and salsa in the crock pot on low heat. There's no need to stir anything at this point. Just stack it up and turn it on.
In about an hour, stir everything up.
Leave the mixture in the crock pot on low heat for about 5 hours.
Check the chicken. If it's done, use a fork to shred it up, stir everything around and put it into heated taco shells.
Justin ate his with Mexican blend cheese, but I don't like cheese on my tacos. These were AMAZING. Much better than I even expected. It was nice to wake up to dinner already done. The house smelled amazing, and I think they're generally pretty figure friendly, for tacos.
The Thermostat Wars
It's winter. We can all agree that we're officially into December, there has been snow on the ground and candy canes are readily available on the shelves at the supermarket. WINTER. It being winter, one has to acknowledge that the previous summer levels for the central heat/air are no longer applicable. Especially when there are LARGE windows in the house letting the winter air and SNOW in. It is officially time to turn on the heater. My dear husband (who is, at this very moment, decreasing his core body temperature even further by eating ICE CREAM) doesn't see it that way. He thinks that 60 degrees is a perfectly reasonable temperature to keep the thermostat on all the time. Even when it being set that low keeps the heater from kicking on. My toes are blue, people.
So here's the scenario: I come in from work at the coldest possible time, just before dawn. I am freezing. My breasts are ON FIRE from the cold and I'm shivering and tired. I see the thermostat set on something like "Antarctica" and so I turn it to a reasonable temperature (70) before crawling into bed, in layers of clothing and socks. Justin gets up, sees the reasonable temperature on the thermostat and immediately breaks into a sweat. He's melting...MELTING!! He turns the heater back down to freezing. By this time I'm super drugged and sleeping under a gigantic pile of blankets, pillows and pajamas so I don't notice. When I get up, it's FREEZING again, and we have to have a fight about his ridiculous expectations for the temperature in the house. I maintain that if I'm wearing layers and layers of clothing, am wrapped up in a blanket and still have blue fingers that the heat should be on. One shouldn't have to wear gloves in their own home. He says it should never, under any circumstances be on and I'm a weenie. So yeah, that's been the weekend.
Rocky Road
Ok, so apparently everyone thinks my gallbladder could possibly rupture, (bad!) so we're moving more quickly that I really wanted to on this surgery thing. Today I went for my "official" (apparently it's only official if it costs money) ultrasound and this is what we saw:
No, that isn't actually my gallbladder, but it looked -exactly- like that. The radiology tech (who was very unpleasant) wouldn't print me off a picture. I'm going to try and get a picture of my actual gallbladder scan from my doctor tomorrow. He's a much nicer person than Veronica or whatever her name was. (It's almost certainly not Veronica. Unless I have some previously undiscovered psychic abilities.) In any case, we're looking at December 9 or the 16. I want to do it on a Wednesday so that I don't have to miss much (if any) work. It'll be nice to have it all over with before Christmas, anyway.
So that's the plan. I'll post more when I know more.
No, that isn't actually my gallbladder, but it looked -exactly- like that. The radiology tech (who was very unpleasant) wouldn't print me off a picture. I'm going to try and get a picture of my actual gallbladder scan from my doctor tomorrow. He's a much nicer person than Veronica or whatever her name was. (It's almost certainly not Veronica. Unless I have some previously undiscovered psychic abilities.) In any case, we're looking at December 9 or the 16. I want to do it on a Wednesday so that I don't have to miss much (if any) work. It'll be nice to have it all over with before Christmas, anyway. So that's the plan. I'll post more when I know more.
Doo De Doo
Yes, I know it's been 2 weeks. I just haven't really had that much to say. After crashing, hard, from depression for a couple of weeks, I finally got brave enough to talk to my doctor about it and get some help. I'm feeling much better, better than I have in a very long time, actually, so that's good. I feel stable and energized and like I can cope with everything appropriately again, and it's been years since I felt like that. Once again, Dr. Landry saves the day.
It was super important to me to take something that a) wouldn't turn me into a zombie and b) had minimal side effects. I think we've found that with Pristiq. The only real side effect I'm having right now is freakishly dilated pupils, and they (they being the internet and Dr. L) tell me that it will stop pretty soon. Another side effect is that I've been having pretty crippling cramps in my legs and arms for a couple of days. I just assumed that I was dehydrated (since I'm almost always dehydrated). Nope. Apparently the Pristiq lowers the amount of potassium in my blood. Most people don't even notice that, but my new asthma inhaler (Symbicort) also lowers potassium, so I've been hit with a double whammy. Luckily, potassium is cheap, and that's an easy problem to fix. A small price to pay for sanity and the full use of my lungs.
I'm leaving in the morning (Ok, noon, but that's early for me.) for a quick trip to the Dallas area. That should be fun, and then on Saturday we're having "Thanksgiving" at my dad's house. They want me to make my super-yummy-delicious-twice-baked potatoes, but I really don't think about white potatoes being a holiday food. -wrinkles nose- I asked my dad if I could do sweet potatoes instead and he seemed to be happy with that, as long as there are marshmallows on them. Well, duh. For actual Thanksgiving, I think we're going to Amarillo/Panhandle to see Justin's family, but no promises. It really depends on how our finances are, whether there's ice on the road and how well Justin thinks the car will do on a semi-lengthy trip.
It was super important to me to take something that a) wouldn't turn me into a zombie and b) had minimal side effects. I think we've found that with Pristiq. The only real side effect I'm having right now is freakishly dilated pupils, and they (they being the internet and Dr. L) tell me that it will stop pretty soon. Another side effect is that I've been having pretty crippling cramps in my legs and arms for a couple of days. I just assumed that I was dehydrated (since I'm almost always dehydrated). Nope. Apparently the Pristiq lowers the amount of potassium in my blood. Most people don't even notice that, but my new asthma inhaler (Symbicort) also lowers potassium, so I've been hit with a double whammy. Luckily, potassium is cheap, and that's an easy problem to fix. A small price to pay for sanity and the full use of my lungs.
I'm leaving in the morning (Ok, noon, but that's early for me.) for a quick trip to the Dallas area. That should be fun, and then on Saturday we're having "Thanksgiving" at my dad's house. They want me to make my super-yummy-delicious-twice-baked potatoes, but I really don't think about white potatoes being a holiday food. -wrinkles nose- I asked my dad if I could do sweet potatoes instead and he seemed to be happy with that, as long as there are marshmallows on them. Well, duh. For actual Thanksgiving, I think we're going to Amarillo/Panhandle to see Justin's family, but no promises. It really depends on how our finances are, whether there's ice on the road and how well Justin thinks the car will do on a semi-lengthy trip.
The Swine Flu & Other Stuff
I got my H1N1 vaccine yesterday. I haven't noticed any real side effects, except that the injection site is slightly swollen and itchy (still) and I've had a pretty persistent headache since just after I got it. So, not too bad. No fever, no aches, no oinking. Excellent. If you can, get vaccinated. (Although I wouldn't recommend the inhaled nasal vaccine, because it's a live virus, and if you're sick or immunocompromised at all, you'll regret it.)
I'm mad at my OB/Gyn because he allowed one of his patients to be treated very badly by an anesthesiologist last week. This is not okay with me, under any circumstances, but especially these specific circumstances. I'm pretty sure I'm going to fire him over this. So, there's that.
I've decided to wait to have gallbladder taken out until summertime. There are a few reasons for this:
1. I'm scared, and a big believer in procrastination in the face of fear.
2. I might be uncomfortable (all the time) or even in a lot (LOT) of pain (occasionally), but it's not going to kill me (almost certainly). And while the surgery itself can be covered by payroll deduction, the ultrasound is going to cost me $100 (plus $100 deductible) and I'd rather not spend that $200 on something that's intangible right now. There are other things that I want/need in the near future.
3. If I have surgery now (or in the next couple of weeks), Justin will be in school a) the day that I have the surgery and b) most of the days when I'm recovering. I'm not interested in having (minor, but still painful) surgery at a time when he a) won't be able to take care of me, b) won't be available to drive me to/from the surgery center, and c) doesn't need all the extra stress of my surgery when he should be worrying about school.
Moving on, Justin is doing very well in school. He's actually taken care of real patients at this point. He's officially allowed to give people drugs now. The whole thing is very stressful for him, but I think it's going to get (at least temporarily) better for awhile.
I'm mad at my OB/Gyn because he allowed one of his patients to be treated very badly by an anesthesiologist last week. This is not okay with me, under any circumstances, but especially these specific circumstances. I'm pretty sure I'm going to fire him over this. So, there's that.
I've decided to wait to have gallbladder taken out until summertime. There are a few reasons for this:
1. I'm scared, and a big believer in procrastination in the face of fear.
2. I might be uncomfortable (all the time) or even in a lot (LOT) of pain (occasionally), but it's not going to kill me (almost certainly). And while the surgery itself can be covered by payroll deduction, the ultrasound is going to cost me $100 (plus $100 deductible) and I'd rather not spend that $200 on something that's intangible right now. There are other things that I want/need in the near future.
3. If I have surgery now (or in the next couple of weeks), Justin will be in school a) the day that I have the surgery and b) most of the days when I'm recovering. I'm not interested in having (minor, but still painful) surgery at a time when he a) won't be able to take care of me, b) won't be available to drive me to/from the surgery center, and c) doesn't need all the extra stress of my surgery when he should be worrying about school.
Moving on, Justin is doing very well in school. He's actually taken care of real patients at this point. He's officially allowed to give people drugs now. The whole thing is very stressful for him, but I think it's going to get (at least temporarily) better for awhile.
This -n- That
I'm posting primarily to distract myself so that I don't buy new jeans and a sweater dress over at OldNavy.com. We'll see if it works.
1. You may remember that about six weeks ago Justin and I got new glasses. It has not worked out well. After wearing mine for less than a month, I left them at home, safe on the coffee table, one night when I went to work. When I spoke to Justin later that evening he told me they were broken. Not just a little broken either, completely irreparable. The metal stem that holds the earpiece on has been twisted off. We have no idea how it happened, but I suspect the cats are to blame. (Aren't they always?) In any case, I was able to glue the earpiece on, which works when I'm wearing them, but they can't be closed to fit into a case. This worked for about 2 days, until, one night at work, I was watching TV in the breakroom when a montage of ankle rolling came on. (Why!?) There is nothing that freaks me out more than ankle rolling, so I reflexively threw my hands up to cover my face, breaking the newly mended glasses. -sigh- Back to EyeMasters it is.
2. We've been invited to a Halloween party on Friday. It kind of sucks, because I'm super excited about the party (whee!), but before I received the invitation I agreed to work a 12 hour (ugh) daytime (double ugh) shift that day. Suck, suck, suck. I'm going to put it in writing, right now: I will NOT take any more day shifts. It's too hard to switch my sleep schedule back and forth and it takes a full week for me to feel rested again. It also irritates Justin. On top of my work, Justin has clinicals that day for school, and I'm not really sure how he's going to get there, I'm going to get to work, and we're going to meet up for the party. But we -are- going damnit, end of story.
3. I found out that the deductible on my insurance is less than I thought it was, and that the hospital will do payroll deduction for medical bills (something like $25 per check) and so I'm going to try and have my gallbladder out before Christmas. It's just getting worse, I'm sick all the time, and, thanks to the nice ultrasound guy, I have seen with my own eyes that there are a whole pile of stones in there. I'm scared about having surgery, but excited about the possibility of feeling better.
4. The new inhaler I got from Dr. Landry last month is not working. It's also having the same side effect as the old one (chest congestion), and my insurance doesn't cover it. I'm going to have to call and ask for something else. This is mostly a reminder for me to do that, because I keep forgetting.
So, what's going on with you this week?
1. You may remember that about six weeks ago Justin and I got new glasses. It has not worked out well. After wearing mine for less than a month, I left them at home, safe on the coffee table, one night when I went to work. When I spoke to Justin later that evening he told me they were broken. Not just a little broken either, completely irreparable. The metal stem that holds the earpiece on has been twisted off. We have no idea how it happened, but I suspect the cats are to blame. (Aren't they always?) In any case, I was able to glue the earpiece on, which works when I'm wearing them, but they can't be closed to fit into a case. This worked for about 2 days, until, one night at work, I was watching TV in the breakroom when a montage of ankle rolling came on. (Why!?) There is nothing that freaks me out more than ankle rolling, so I reflexively threw my hands up to cover my face, breaking the newly mended glasses. -sigh- Back to EyeMasters it is.
2. We've been invited to a Halloween party on Friday. It kind of sucks, because I'm super excited about the party (whee!), but before I received the invitation I agreed to work a 12 hour (ugh) daytime (double ugh) shift that day. Suck, suck, suck. I'm going to put it in writing, right now: I will NOT take any more day shifts. It's too hard to switch my sleep schedule back and forth and it takes a full week for me to feel rested again. It also irritates Justin. On top of my work, Justin has clinicals that day for school, and I'm not really sure how he's going to get there, I'm going to get to work, and we're going to meet up for the party. But we -are- going damnit, end of story.
3. I found out that the deductible on my insurance is less than I thought it was, and that the hospital will do payroll deduction for medical bills (something like $25 per check) and so I'm going to try and have my gallbladder out before Christmas. It's just getting worse, I'm sick all the time, and, thanks to the nice ultrasound guy, I have seen with my own eyes that there are a whole pile of stones in there. I'm scared about having surgery, but excited about the possibility of feeling better.
4. The new inhaler I got from Dr. Landry last month is not working. It's also having the same side effect as the old one (chest congestion), and my insurance doesn't cover it. I'm going to have to call and ask for something else. This is mostly a reminder for me to do that, because I keep forgetting.
So, what's going on with you this week?
Oh YUM.
Not to brag (well, maybe a little), but I made the -best- dinner tonight. The full, original recipe can be found here, gotta love that Pioneer Woman. So here's the breakdown, for those of you who don't follow links:
1 small bag of Irish potatoes. (This is about 15 or 20 little potatoes.)
4 large heads of garlic.
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup semi-dry white wine
Kosher salt
Black pepper
Quarter the potatoes, and cut the ends off the garlic, to expose all the cloves. Arrange them around the pan and drizzle with the olive oil and wine. Take extra care to coat the top of the garlic cloves. Kosher salt and pepper to taste. (I also used a little seasoned salt.)
Toss to coat.
Cover tightly with tin foil and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.
Uncover and bake for 20 minutes.
Broil on 500 for about 5 minutes.
This is when the "official" recipe ends. But here's what I did to make it a full meal:
During the last 10 minutes of cook time, I shredded up a rotisserie chicken (into large pieces), then when the potatoes and garlic came out of the oven, I mixed them with the shredded chicken. You will have to (of course) remove the roasted garlic cloves from the papery skin, and take care to smash them up a bit when you mix the chicken with the veggies. The garlic gets mild, sweet and nutty as it roasts, which is delicious, so even if you think it will be too strong, use it! I've been afraid to cook with fresh garlic for years, because it's typically not a flavor I enjoy if it's very strong, but roasted, it's a completely different flavor.
1 small bag of Irish potatoes. (This is about 15 or 20 little potatoes.)
4 large heads of garlic.
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup semi-dry white wine
Kosher salt
Black pepper
Toss to coat.
Cover tightly with tin foil and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.
Uncover and bake for 20 minutes.
Broil on 500 for about 5 minutes.
This is when the "official" recipe ends. But here's what I did to make it a full meal:
During the last 10 minutes of cook time, I shredded up a rotisserie chicken (into large pieces), then when the potatoes and garlic came out of the oven, I mixed them with the shredded chicken. You will have to (of course) remove the roasted garlic cloves from the papery skin, and take care to smash them up a bit when you mix the chicken with the veggies. The garlic gets mild, sweet and nutty as it roasts, which is delicious, so even if you think it will be too strong, use it! I've been afraid to cook with fresh garlic for years, because it's typically not a flavor I enjoy if it's very strong, but roasted, it's a completely different flavor.
As Promised
So when I found out that people were throwing a fit over a -completely- innocuous picture that she posted on Twitter, I was pissed. The critics say that she's showing too much cleavage. And yeah, there is some boob there, but it's a tank top, not a corset and panties. Meghan is a curvy girl. Unless she puts on a turtleneck, there's probably going to be cleavage going on. She commented that she was spending the night at home with a book. Looks like pajamas and bedhead to me. People need to get over it. No one's complaining about Jeff Flake's shirtless photos. In fact, he seems to be getting a lot of brownie points for that.This is a ridiculous double standard.
Rant Over.
Bookshelves
I'm taking a suggestion from Random and posting pictures of my bookshelf. It's really dusty, because, well, I live in West Texas, and even if I dusted yesterday (and you can't prove I didn't!) it would be dusty again by today. Also, I forgot my Zyrtec this morning, so I only managed to dust the first two shelves before turning into one solid histamine reaction, so that's what you've got pictures of. You didn't want to see all the chick-lit and Terry Pratchett books anyway. Here goes:
This is my top shelf. From left you see a picture of my feet, Other People's Love Letters, Cautionary Tales for Children by Edward Gorey (Shannon, you need this book.) Lyrical and Critical Essays by Albert Camus, My French Whore: A Love Story by Gene Wilder (It's soooo good!), The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, which was a graduation gift from my best friend in high school (Yes, I was that girl.), The Song of Songs, The Dictionary of Superstitions (because I'm highly superstitious) The Chronicles of Narnia, Ophelia by Lisa Klein (Hamlet, told from Ophelia's viewpoint), PostSecret, The Joy of Sex (Which I didn't know was up there, and I should have moved it, because my dad is here all the time.), Human Sexuality: Diversity in Contemporary America (Which is a textbook, and therefore father-friendly.), and Mosby's Medical Dictionary. (Because Justin is in nursing school and I'm a huge geek, and wouldn't let him sell it back. Plus, I might be superstitious, but I also believe in science.)
Moving on to the second shelf:
From left: A picture of a dandelion (Yes, I took that, and I'm very proud of it.), The Quotation Dictionary (Which belonged to my Aunt Eva Pearl who used it when she went around giving Dale Carnegie talks.), The Red Tent by Anita Diamant, Bedlam: A Year in the Life of a Mental Hospital by Dominick Bosco (This book is non-fiction, and the scariest thing I've ever read.), The Secret History by Donna Tartt, The Witch of Cologne by Tobsha Learner, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (As I said, I'm a huge geek.), Love & Desire (This photography book is less pornographic than it sounds, but not much.), The Complete Sherlock Holmes, Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (if you haven't read his stuff, you should.), and Listography: Your Life in Lists. (This is a really fun book, who doesn't love to make a good list? I filled it out on an airplane a year ago.).
There you have it, my bookshelf. You'll have to remember there are three more (dusty) shelves, and about a hundred books under my bed right now, but I think these are a pretty good representation of what I could be reading at any given moment.
That was fun. Thanks Random.
Come back tomorrow, when I'll talk about the "scandalous" Twitpic that Meghan McCain posted yesterday.
Bum Bum BAHHM!
Ok.
The hospital I work in is recently remodeled, very stylish and generally doesn't give anyone that creepy "I'm in a hospital" feeling on their skin. That said, whoever paid for the remodel, didn't think that it was important to pretty up the non-patient areas, so the ground floor (really the basement, I don't know who they think they're kidding with that G) basically looks exactly like you'd expect a hospital built in the 50s (or maybe the 70s) to look. Plain white, slightly shoddy tile on the walls, ugly linoleum and no windows. (I told you, it's a basement.) It's all together a very different environment than the cheerful "there are no sick people here!" schtick that the rest of the building has.
Adding to the creepy, institutional feel of the place is the fact that along the hallway are a series of doors with large, yellowing signs proclaiming THIS DOOR MUST BE LOCKED AT ALL TIMES and THIS DOOR IS NOT TO BE OPENED. Every time I've been down there alone, I've walked on the opposite side of the hallway to avoid something jumping out from behind these doors. What could they possibly keep in there? Is this secretly the psych ward? Zombies? The logical part of my mind knows that it's probably just trash bins or something, but it still creeps me out. Did I mention that the cafeteria is downstairs? During the day, this negates the creep factor a bit, since there are loads of people getting meals down there. Safety in numbers, you know.
Anyway, a few nights ago I had to venture down to the ATM machine in the middle of the night, and so I boarded the elevator, completely forgetting that the basement would be even creepier after hours. I walked down the hallway totally pretending that I wasn't prepared to flee at any moment, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a transporter came running, full tilt down the hall. I may or may not have let out a strangled little "eep!" Or possibly a big faah!!! Anyway, regaining my composure and trying not to think about what he possibly could have been running -from,- I made it to the "pantry" which is what they call the vending machine room where the ATM lives. I got my cash and, feeling somewhat triumphant, headed back to the elevator.
Blocking my way was one of THE DOORS. It was open, in a direct violation of the DO NOT OPEN signs. Crap, crap, crap. I let my the reasonable part of my brain (yes, I do have a reasonable part) take over and walked past the room. Not being able to resist facing my fear, I looked to my left and I found this:
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That's right, folks. A single, pink, helium-balloon. There was nothing else in there. Every time I think about it, I dissolve into giggles, because it's so weird and ridiculous. Justin thinks the lonely balloon makes it even creepier, but I love, love, love it.
I'm still not going down alone at night again.
The hospital I work in is recently remodeled, very stylish and generally doesn't give anyone that creepy "I'm in a hospital" feeling on their skin. That said, whoever paid for the remodel, didn't think that it was important to pretty up the non-patient areas, so the ground floor (really the basement, I don't know who they think they're kidding with that G) basically looks exactly like you'd expect a hospital built in the 50s (or maybe the 70s) to look. Plain white, slightly shoddy tile on the walls, ugly linoleum and no windows. (I told you, it's a basement.) It's all together a very different environment than the cheerful "there are no sick people here!" schtick that the rest of the building has.
Adding to the creepy, institutional feel of the place is the fact that along the hallway are a series of doors with large, yellowing signs proclaiming THIS DOOR MUST BE LOCKED AT ALL TIMES and THIS DOOR IS NOT TO BE OPENED. Every time I've been down there alone, I've walked on the opposite side of the hallway to avoid something jumping out from behind these doors. What could they possibly keep in there? Is this secretly the psych ward? Zombies? The logical part of my mind knows that it's probably just trash bins or something, but it still creeps me out. Did I mention that the cafeteria is downstairs? During the day, this negates the creep factor a bit, since there are loads of people getting meals down there. Safety in numbers, you know.
Anyway, a few nights ago I had to venture down to the ATM machine in the middle of the night, and so I boarded the elevator, completely forgetting that the basement would be even creepier after hours. I walked down the hallway totally pretending that I wasn't prepared to flee at any moment, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a transporter came running, full tilt down the hall. I may or may not have let out a strangled little "eep!" Or possibly a big faah!!! Anyway, regaining my composure and trying not to think about what he possibly could have been running -from,- I made it to the "pantry" which is what they call the vending machine room where the ATM lives. I got my cash and, feeling somewhat triumphant, headed back to the elevator.
Blocking my way was one of THE DOORS. It was open, in a direct violation of the DO NOT OPEN signs. Crap, crap, crap. I let my the reasonable part of my brain (yes, I do have a reasonable part) take over and walked past the room. Not being able to resist facing my fear, I looked to my left and I found this:
That's right, folks. A single, pink, helium-balloon. There was nothing else in there. Every time I think about it, I dissolve into giggles, because it's so weird and ridiculous. Justin thinks the lonely balloon makes it even creepier, but I love, love, love it.
I'm still not going down alone at night again.
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