If you don't know me, you might not already know that I'm a terrible human being. Well, maybe I'm not terrible so much as not awesome. Anyway, toward the beginning of the year, as most people do, I was thinking about all the stuff I wanted to do this year. How do I become a better person? What about losing weight (what? I am female - apparently biologically I'm always supposed to want to lose weight)? Giving more of my time/money/skillset to charity? How's about more money? I like money.
During my random ramblings online one night, I ran across this helpful article from Cracked.com. Technically, Cracked is an entertainment site, but I often run across gems like this. It's full of "motherfuckers" and "asses," because that's what Cracked is like; however, a lot of it felt right. For me anyway.
Action breeds action, which breeds satisfaction alongside ambition for more action (because action feels good). Or, more boiled down: sustained happiness is hard work in the best of circumstances.At the worst of times, it's a tough slog out of a hell hole. You're welcome.
This random commentary brought to you by the number 9 and the letters N-E-E-D-S-L-E-E-P.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Freakin' magma, people.
My daughter tells me that I have a super power: I can shoot lava out of my fingertips. I wish she would remember that when she's being cranky. And maybe tell her brother while she's at it, too.
Just think, if I were a heroine in a romance novel, I'd accidentally kill or maim someone as I grew into my superpowers and my prince charming (in this case, my husband) would tell me it was ok. Not that I want to maim or kill someone.
Anyway, my daughter is also convinced I have bat ears. Probably because I told her I have bat ears. She's also really bad at whispering.
Just think, if I were a heroine in a romance novel, I'd accidentally kill or maim someone as I grew into my superpowers and my prince charming (in this case, my husband) would tell me it was ok. Not that I want to maim or kill someone.
Anyway, my daughter is also convinced I have bat ears. Probably because I told her I have bat ears. She's also really bad at whispering.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
For shame!
So, I'm not sure whether to be embarrassed, proud or just damn tickled. I'll go with option c. I was looking at the most common search terms that resulted in someone finding my blog.
It was: "under the wedding dress pantie pics"
Filthy wankers. I can respect that.
Note to self: don't watch daytime TV
I'm working from home today. My work rarely allows for any time away
from my desk for lunch, which is probably why I tend to lose weight
during the week and gain it right the heck back during the weekend. So
when I work from home and have time to do so, sometimes I go wild and
crazy and do it out of sight of my work laptop. Do you have any idea how
hard it is to eat on a treadmill? What? I'm a multi-tasker.
Anyway, today I made a mistake. I ate while pacing in front of the TV. And I just lost brain cells by watching Breaking Amish. A bunch of teenagers and 20-somethings with the exact same problems most people in that age group have, only they're Amish! Why yes, I'm oversimplifying. I realize that these individuals have probably dealt with a hell of a lot more than I did in my teens and twenties (I only had to deal with crazed boyfriends and scarlet letters - ah, memories). But still. It took maybe 10 minutes of dedicated attempts to watch and finally I wandered off to read legislation. It was that bad.
If I could, I'd be watching Sherlock. Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are wonderful actors. I appreciate compelling, over-dramatic, snotty and sarcastic as much as the next gal. But watching that during the day isn't consistent with government healthcare, rebates and arguing about whether non-interference provisions actually mean, you know, not interfering.
Alas, maybe I need to resurrect my alter-ego the smut peddler (award-winning and card-carrying, no less).
I've tried a few times, but Medicare just isn't smutty. I'll have to try harder. I'll bet I could make this rule very exciting. Much more exciting than daytime TV.
Anyway, today I made a mistake. I ate while pacing in front of the TV. And I just lost brain cells by watching Breaking Amish. A bunch of teenagers and 20-somethings with the exact same problems most people in that age group have, only they're Amish! Why yes, I'm oversimplifying. I realize that these individuals have probably dealt with a hell of a lot more than I did in my teens and twenties (I only had to deal with crazed boyfriends and scarlet letters - ah, memories). But still. It took maybe 10 minutes of dedicated attempts to watch and finally I wandered off to read legislation. It was that bad.
If I could, I'd be watching Sherlock. Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are wonderful actors. I appreciate compelling, over-dramatic, snotty and sarcastic as much as the next gal. But watching that during the day isn't consistent with government healthcare, rebates and arguing about whether non-interference provisions actually mean, you know, not interfering.
Alas, maybe I need to resurrect my alter-ego the smut peddler (award-winning and card-carrying, no less).
I've tried a few times, but Medicare just isn't smutty. I'll have to try harder. I'll bet I could make this rule very exciting. Much more exciting than daytime TV.
Friday, May 23, 2014
TLAs
When you can understand what it means when someone sends an e-mail saying, "We should validate the PDE against NCPDP HCID and NUCC DSD on MNM and SPS. What do you think?" you know that something went very wrong somewhere and somewhen.
And so it has. That e-mail? That was from a co-worker. The answer is that yes, we should validate PDEs against NCPDP HCID as well as the NUCC DSD on MNM and SPS to ensure compliance with the PDMB Sec. 50.90.4. And while we're at it, we ought to look at MDM and SAS.
I once wondered why no one knows what I do for a living. Now I wonder no more.
And so it has. That e-mail? That was from a co-worker. The answer is that yes, we should validate PDEs against NCPDP HCID as well as the NUCC DSD on MNM and SPS to ensure compliance with the PDMB Sec. 50.90.4. And while we're at it, we ought to look at MDM and SAS.
I once wondered why no one knows what I do for a living. Now I wonder no more.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Hello, 2014. Fancy Meeting You Here.
It's a new year again, which means it's time for the recap. So, 2013 summary:
1. My mom got really, really, really sick. But, it helped her admit she has a very serious problem and has for years. So she's finally begun addressing the problem. I originally said she'd addressed it, but I really don't think there's any way you can permanently address addiction. Now we just need to get her a new liver.
2. Work is work. Bleh. I've got more responsibility for the same pay, but hey - could be worse.
3. The kids are AWESOME. And by awesome, I mean seriously fantastically, wonderfully awesome. I can't believe how much Rags grown, mostly emotionally - I'm so very, very, very proud of him. And he and his dad are getting along so much better. They're so very hard on each other and it warms my heart to see the two of them actually enjoying the hell out of each other. Evelyn is great, too - she's a little poop sometimes, but hey, she's 4. That's kind of her job, and she's not a poop all the time. Oh, and she's begun reading, which is seriously cool (and kind of scary because spelling things out doesn't work as well as it used to). Couldn't ask for more than that.
4. My husband is doing very well. He's finally realized after much badgering and a couple of minor epiphanies and mini-mid-life crises that happiness takes work. I hope he finds it. And I hope he lets me help, but ultimately it's up to him. I'm sure this coming year will be filled with additional mini-midlife crises, but as long as he realizes that to be happy he needs to take action, any action, I think he'll be on the right path.
5. Watch out for stingrays. They hurt like a mother.
So there it is, 2013. I never thought I'd say it, but this year has been a horrible, wonderful, awful, beautiful year. I'm hoping 2014 isn't quite as dramatic, but here's hoping I learn as much from this year as I did from last.
1. My mom got really, really, really sick. But, it helped her admit she has a very serious problem and has for years. So she's finally begun addressing the problem. I originally said she'd addressed it, but I really don't think there's any way you can permanently address addiction. Now we just need to get her a new liver.
2. Work is work. Bleh. I've got more responsibility for the same pay, but hey - could be worse.
3. The kids are AWESOME. And by awesome, I mean seriously fantastically, wonderfully awesome. I can't believe how much Rags grown, mostly emotionally - I'm so very, very, very proud of him. And he and his dad are getting along so much better. They're so very hard on each other and it warms my heart to see the two of them actually enjoying the hell out of each other. Evelyn is great, too - she's a little poop sometimes, but hey, she's 4. That's kind of her job, and she's not a poop all the time. Oh, and she's begun reading, which is seriously cool (and kind of scary because spelling things out doesn't work as well as it used to). Couldn't ask for more than that.
4. My husband is doing very well. He's finally realized after much badgering and a couple of minor epiphanies and mini-mid-life crises that happiness takes work. I hope he finds it. And I hope he lets me help, but ultimately it's up to him. I'm sure this coming year will be filled with additional mini-midlife crises, but as long as he realizes that to be happy he needs to take action, any action, I think he'll be on the right path.
5. Watch out for stingrays. They hurt like a mother.
So there it is, 2013. I never thought I'd say it, but this year has been a horrible, wonderful, awful, beautiful year. I'm hoping 2014 isn't quite as dramatic, but here's hoping I learn as much from this year as I did from last.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Listed!
After many months of therapy (which will continue) and several grueling days of testing, my mom has made the transplant list! I'm so glad, but nervous for her. Now it's just a waiting game.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
38!
I have several traditions on my birthday, including taking the day off to:
1. Throw things away.
2. Think too much about the previous year.
3. Blog.
So, here's my blog. And this is what I was thinking (and, yes, I've torn through most of the paper in our house and thrown quite a bit away).
When I was younger, everything was black and white, good or bad. Nothing was grey. Now, nothing is black and white. I thought things would be more grey. But almost nothing is grey, either. More or less everything is in color. Bold reds, mellow golds, deep blues, sometimes in sepia and grainy videos in my head and yes, sometimes even darkest black. Sometimes life is tepid watercolors. Rich with emotion, with feeling. The taste of words and sounds sweet and sour on my tongue, the shape and image of sounds. All of it. I'm both proud of myself and ashamed sometimes. But things are rarely grey.
When you're younger, you wait for time to pass. You have to be X age to do Y. 16 to drive, 18 to vote, 21 to drink. Life will start when you go to college, right? There's so much to do, but only when you get older. You don't realize how much you're doing already. Then you get even older than that (and I'm hardly old) and you want everything to slow down so you can do more. Sometimes you miss being bored. It's amazing.
At this point, I'm in between. Sometimes I want time to just hurry the heck up. Then I want it to slow down. Time goes too fast watching my babies grow. Time goes too fast trying to fit all the stuff into my life that I want to. Time goes too fast now that I know my mom is so very sick. Then, darn the luck, it always slows down while I wait for vacation to come and speeds right back up when it gets here.
I'm happy to welcome another year. More time. More opportunity. Even if this year sucks to high heaven, even though my life is as cluttered as my house (despite the stuff I chucked), it's mine.
1. Throw things away.
2. Think too much about the previous year.
3. Blog.
So, here's my blog. And this is what I was thinking (and, yes, I've torn through most of the paper in our house and thrown quite a bit away).
When I was younger, everything was black and white, good or bad. Nothing was grey. Now, nothing is black and white. I thought things would be more grey. But almost nothing is grey, either. More or less everything is in color. Bold reds, mellow golds, deep blues, sometimes in sepia and grainy videos in my head and yes, sometimes even darkest black. Sometimes life is tepid watercolors. Rich with emotion, with feeling. The taste of words and sounds sweet and sour on my tongue, the shape and image of sounds. All of it. I'm both proud of myself and ashamed sometimes. But things are rarely grey.
When you're younger, you wait for time to pass. You have to be X age to do Y. 16 to drive, 18 to vote, 21 to drink. Life will start when you go to college, right? There's so much to do, but only when you get older. You don't realize how much you're doing already. Then you get even older than that (and I'm hardly old) and you want everything to slow down so you can do more. Sometimes you miss being bored. It's amazing.
At this point, I'm in between. Sometimes I want time to just hurry the heck up. Then I want it to slow down. Time goes too fast watching my babies grow. Time goes too fast trying to fit all the stuff into my life that I want to. Time goes too fast now that I know my mom is so very sick. Then, darn the luck, it always slows down while I wait for vacation to come and speeds right back up when it gets here.
I'm happy to welcome another year. More time. More opportunity. Even if this year sucks to high heaven, even though my life is as cluttered as my house (despite the stuff I chucked), it's mine.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Gobsmacked
On Tuesday I turn 38. On Wednesday, my daughter will be 4. And Thursday is the one year anniversary of my very good friend Dana's death.
When I remember that I'm going to be 40 soon, I kind of want to smack myself. It's sneaking up on me like no one's business. How could time pass so quickly? Wasn't I just graduating from college? It's unreal to me that I have children, that I'm a "real" grownup, responsible for someone else's life and happiness.
Then I think of all that's yet to come. So much opportunity and so much to do!
My mom is still alive and kicking - turns out she does have elevated cancer markers, but she doesn't have masses...yet. She's on the transplant list and coming to St. Louis for testing over Thanksgiving weekend. I'd like to get myself into better shape. You never know when she might need a kidney (and I wish I said that facetiously). Plus, it makes running after the kids easier and me more energetic.
Work is ridiculous. I love it and loathe it at the same time. But it's doable now, so I don't think I'll go there.
My kids are wonderful. I lost it with them today (again) - I never realized that there was anything worse than a kid whining. Now I know better. Worse than a kid whining is a kid arguing with another kid they're forced to live with. Luckily we'd all made nice again by bedtime. I'm never proud of myself in those moments. But no matter how much they'll argue, I will always love them like crazy. And will try not to giggle when Evelyn whispers, "Oooh, you're a ninja!" when I'm trying to set her straight. And I'll also try not to melt too outwardly when Rags tells me I'm the best mom ever before he looks at the ground and whispers that kissing is yucky unless it's me or dad.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to my birthday. They frequently stink, but I'd found out I'm an optimist, albeit a realistic one. I know I'm not going to get a clean house or dinner on the table without me having to plan it. But I will get a night with my family and a day to myself ('cause I'm taking the day off) and a day with my daughter on her birthday. I'll get hugs and kisses and will hopefully keep my sanity - assuming it was ever there to begin with.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
MRI
So, mom has at last finished her treatment and is now considered eligible for the liver transplant list. Honestly, I'm so proud of her. When we first learned that she had cirrhosis, we just knew that her pride prevent her from getting the help she needed and making it through therapy to the transplant list on the other side. But she tossed her pride aside and managed to plow through. She's told me at least five times that the whole experience has been an education and that she knows more about drugs from group therapy than she ever thought she would.
Anyway, her doctor told her that her numbers were fantastic last week. But it turns out that the lab forgot to do a blood test. They did the blood test and it wasn't great. So she's going in for an MRI tomorrow. It's possible that she has developed liver cancer.
I'm trying to keep an open mind. After all, we expected the worst when we first started this crazy journey and she shocked the hell out of us all. Maybe this is just a blip. Or something that will hasten her eligibility for a liver.
If I know nothing else, I do know that we're lucky. I do consider it a gift that, for the first time I can remember, my mom has stayed lucid and so very, very normal. I haven't spent most of my time gently reminding her that we've had the same conversation before or calming her down. I haven't felt compelled to ask her if she's really drinking water. I haven't gone home over a weekend and spent time mentally tallying how many drinks she may have had by finishing half of a Sam's Club-sized bottle of gin in one day.
We are lucky. The kids weren't afraid of her embraces the last time we visited, she didn't pick a fight with my husband. And if this does turn out to be something more sinister than an anomaly, there may be time to fix it, fight it and/or get ready to say goodbye. You can't know what the future holds, I guess. But you can appreciate the good stuff while you've got it.
Anyway, her doctor told her that her numbers were fantastic last week. But it turns out that the lab forgot to do a blood test. They did the blood test and it wasn't great. So she's going in for an MRI tomorrow. It's possible that she has developed liver cancer.
I'm trying to keep an open mind. After all, we expected the worst when we first started this crazy journey and she shocked the hell out of us all. Maybe this is just a blip. Or something that will hasten her eligibility for a liver.
If I know nothing else, I do know that we're lucky. I do consider it a gift that, for the first time I can remember, my mom has stayed lucid and so very, very normal. I haven't spent most of my time gently reminding her that we've had the same conversation before or calming her down. I haven't felt compelled to ask her if she's really drinking water. I haven't gone home over a weekend and spent time mentally tallying how many drinks she may have had by finishing half of a Sam's Club-sized bottle of gin in one day.
We are lucky. The kids weren't afraid of her embraces the last time we visited, she didn't pick a fight with my husband. And if this does turn out to be something more sinister than an anomaly, there may be time to fix it, fight it and/or get ready to say goodbye. You can't know what the future holds, I guess. But you can appreciate the good stuff while you've got it.
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