Fun With Medicine

I hate having blood drawn, I'm about 300 miles past needle phobic if it involves a vein. I totally fall apart, shaking, crying, fainting... it's quite a show really. The two other people who wandered into the lab this morning certainly got THEIR money's worth. I've got some stuff going on, and while I can usually wheedle my way out of having bloodwork done, it really was necessary this time. So I girded my loins. I did NOT want to get there at a busy time, so I waited until 9:30 to leave the house, and was happy to see that there was nobody else there. The lady vampire had me fill out the forms, and found a safe place to put my Diet Coke (needed it for afterwards... the caffeine and sugar help). I could see her thinking WHY ME as she watched my entire body shake, but she was very gracious about the whole thing and let me get into the reclining chair where she could hoist my hind paws up over my head. I immediately burst into tears. You know, like you do. At this point another woman wandered into the lab and, looking at my shaking, sobbing, pathetic-ness, thought briefly about turning tail and leaving. Now I have a problem. If I look to my right I can see the vampiress taking blood, if I look to my left I can see the other woman having HER blood taken. Shit. While I was puzzling this out, the vampiress struck...... and..... I barely felt it. She was GOOD! Okay, I can do this I thought. I have no idea why I have such a hard time with such a simple procedure. I hoot every time I hear an ad on tv for some kind of medication that "requires simple blood tests". Simple my left foot! Not simple for everyone bucko. So, it's over for this time. I fully intend to wear my band-aid all day so people will know the trauma I have suffered and feel appropriate sorrow for me. Hand me a tissue would you?

Ha! Thought I'd Died Didn't You?

Jeez I haven't blogged in forever and three days -- I sincerely hope someone noticed. DID someone notice? I just haven't felt like I had anything to say that anyone cared about. I'm sitting here waiting for the maids. It is now 3:44:40. They are supposed to get here between 12:30 and 2:30. I'd say they are late. When they get here I'd ask 'em where the Sam hill they've been -- but since between the two of them they don't know more than about five words of English that would probably not work out. I find it disconcerting that I don't know what they are talking about. They chatter constantly, and I can (using my long dormant high school Spanish - thank you Mr. Midori) sometimes catch a word or two ..... sometimes there is mucho trabajo. Sometimes they talk about the gatos. Anyway... I'm waiting and I'm bored so here I am.

Who has had something with actual excitement value happen to them? Discuss.

New Years Resolution Time

Yep. It's that time again. Time when everyone in the entire world resolves to do something they will never follow through on. I was ruminating on the whole resolution thing one night while I was unable to fall asleep and made a bold decision. Yep. THIS year. I am NOT going to 1) lose 100 pounds, 2) become an exercise fanatic, 3) save the whales, or 4) stop global warming. Nope. THIS year I am going to resolve to do something that I have a shot in hell of actually DOING. To that end, here are my 2009 Resolutions. Prepare to be amazed.

I am going to send birthday cards to all our family and good friend. In the mail, actual cards with stamps. United States Postal Service mail. I mean really, how much personal mail does anyone actually get anymore? You get bills, magazines, catalogs and junk right? So wouldn't it be a cool surprise to get a birthday card in the mail? Second I'm going to be more mindful of my carbon footprint. I'm re-using plastic bags, making sure everything gets into the recycling bin, and making more careful choices in the store. I'm using my own grocery bags instead of paper OR plastic. Little things, but little things that would add up if more people did them.

So we'll see. So far so good, I've sent 3 birthday cards in time for them to arrive on the correct date, and as we speak I have plastic bags drying on the rack. Maybe at the end of this year I will look back and say WOW! I kept my resolutions!

It's BAR Season!!!

When last we visited our North Carolina house we couldn't help but notice that there were a number of unfamiliar pickup trucks driving slowly up and down our road. Every so often a man would get out of his pickup truck carrying what appeared to be an old TV antenna. He would point the antenna up and down the mountain while appearing perplexed. Once or twice the man with the antenna would clamber over our fence and wander up our driveway. What in the world? We also noted a number of hunting dogs appearing on the property wearing collars with boxes on them. Again, what in the world?

Finally we made inquiries, and discovered that the men were looking for their hunting dogs. The TV antennas were actually the tracking devices for the GPS collars the dogs were wearing. We were instructed to tie any dogs we saw to the fence at the bottom of the driveeway, and the owner would "be along shortly". Okaaaay. We aren't really the tie-a-dog-to-a-fence types, so we were more inclined to feed the dogs table scraps, skritch their ears and walk them around on a leash until their owner showed up. The dogs were really pleased with this plan. The dog owners not so much.

After a few days, a number of dogs, and untold pickup trucks full of men toting TV antennas, we finally asked what was with all the lost dogs. I was holding a smelly, but enthusiastic dog at the end of the leash while waving down a pickup truck. Turns out that the dog didn't belong to this particular fellow, but he did know the owner and would take the dog. Since his dog box was already full of howling hunting dogs he had apparently managed to track down, he put this dog on TOP of the dog box and secured him. I mentioned that there seemed to be a LOT of missing dogs. "Is this the time of year that ya'll train your hunting dogs?", I asked. Pickup driver pulled himself up to his full height and glared at me. (Note: he would have appeared far more imposing had he not been wearing a hat with orange ear flaps and holding a TV antenna. Just saying.) "Lord NO," he explained, "it's BAR season." Ahhh... I see .... Bar Season.

So let me get this straight. These guys are bear hunters. One imagines they turn the dogs loose to pinpoint the location of the bears, and then they.... what?...... spend the next 22 hours driving around the mountains pointing an old TV antenna at the hills in an attempt to round the dogs back up? Perhaps I am missing something here, but does this seem at all efficient? At what point does the hunter actually get to murder the poor bear? Because I gotta tell you, I saw a LOT of dogs that week, but I didn't see the first bear. I didn't see a dog chasing a bear, didn't see a dog tracking a bear, didn't see any SIGNS of a bear. So how does this work? Don't get me wrong, I am ALL for the bear not getting killed, but one really must make inquiries as to who thought this was the best way to track em. It occurs to me that maybe a bear thought up this whole GPS system.

VOTE VOTE VOTE

Today is election day!! FINALLY it's here! No more ads, no more phone calls, no more fliers in the mail! *capers about in a thrilled sort of way* Rob and I went together this morning, and thanks to early voting there was no line. This was probably a good thing as our polling place is staffed by lovely elderly ladies who do NOT move swiftly. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure they move at all! From the time I handed the lady my driver's license, it was almost 5 minutes before I actually received my ballot. Now, granted, she did stop to notice that the picture on my license doesn't look much like me (yes, I know, I dyed my hair blond). She checked to be sure that Mike had actually cast his vote early (he had which required her to find a red VOTED sticker to place next to his name). She asked if Rob was with me (he was). As I waited for Rob to finish filling out his ballot (he was behind me so didn't get his ballot till roughly 3 minutes after I got mine), I had a nice discussion with the lady at the ballot box about Florida's sound trouncing of Georgia in last weekends football game. I told her I was wearing the shirt I wore to the game 'cause it helped my team win then, so I was hoping for a repeat victory lap.

Whichever candidate you are in favor of, get out there and cast your vote for him. Read up on the local issues and vote to make your community a better place. If you don't bother to vote, then don't bother to bitch! So saith me.

Adventures In Pooh Pajamas

Why is it that when you need to have any kind of worker come to the house they can NEVER figure out when they are going to get there? Luckily I don't work, so I have the ability to sit around waiting for the cable guy, the plumber, the exterminator etc. Can't imagine what people who work do. Here are some examples.

We were up at our house in North Carolina attempting to vacation. One of the many and various things that went wrong was that the satellite internet was out. Well hell. It's out more than it's on to begin with, but we are paying a LOT of money for the luxury of having non-working satellite internet darn it. Mike spent a jolly half hour or so on the phone with someone in New Delhi who was no doubt named something improbable like Ted. Or Pete. (Because there are so MANY dudes in India named Pete. Why don't they use their real names? But I digress.) Anyway, Ted/Pete can't figure out what's wrong and we have to have someone come up to the house. Of course we could have told you that we'd have to have the guys come out to the house, but there is a process and you have to talk to the improbably named dude in New Delhi before they can come out. Usually a stray cow has crashed into the pole that holds the dish or something like that. They just readjust and we are back in business. Okay fine. So they'll be out the next day between 12 and 5. Yay! Imagine our surprise when the phone rings the next morning at 7:20 or so and it's the satellite guys on their way. They get there and fix whatever was wrong (something about bad wires), but tell us that there is a spiffy new and improved system that is faster and more reliable. More reliable would be really nice. So we schedule them for the next day between 12 and 5. Wanna guess who called at 9 and said they were on the way? Well alrighty then. I mean ONE day I can see the schedule getting wonked up and them arriving 4 hours early, but two days in a row? Really? It wasn't even the same company for God's sake.

Fast forward to today back home in Florida. Our pool lady disappeared about 3 weeks ago and we couldn't contact her. Turns out that something has happened and she is no longer in business. I know this because a nice guy named Rick called and told me that. She had turned her accounts over to him, and he wanted to come over today between 9 and 11 to give us an estimate. This is a good thing because the pool was NOT looking all that attractive. The weather here turned COLD last night. When Mike's alarm went off this morning I was snuggled under an assortment of cats and the dog, all warm and toasty. At 8:20 ish the phone rings. Damn. I struggle to get to it and mumble something approximating hello. A voice says, "I rang your doorbell but you didn't answer." Me, NOT being a morning person, says, "Who the HELL is this?" Whoops. It's the pool guy. So I crawl out of my cozy nest and trot downstairs in my Winnie the Pooh pajamas to answer the door. Hey, if you are going to show up that early in the day you just have to be prepared for Pooh-clad homeowners. Just sayin'. I managed to ask the correct questions and give somewhat coherent answers while barefooted and wearing my hot pink glasses. Took my toes 3 hours to thaw.

What IS it with people? If I had a doctor's appointment at 3, but decided that it would be far more convenient to get there at 10:15, can I reasonably expect the doctor to see me then? Suppose I worked at a real job? If you tell me that you're coming between 12 and 5 then I'm going to leave the office in time to get home at 12. I'm not going to be cooling my heels here at 10. Why can't people just show up when they SAY they are? Is that so difficult? Apparently so.

I SHALL SCREAM

::sigh:: Yeah well, it's my blog and I'll bitch if I wanna. We had finally gotten the situation with our cats straightened out. The ones who insisted upon peeing in places other than the litter pans moved into their very own cat house in the back. House is complete with screened in porch, rock fountain, heat and air conditioning and furniture. What cats could be happier? The cats who are still inside were using the litter pans nicely, with a few indiscretions. But frankly if you have cats you are going to have inappropriate peeing at one time or another in one place or another. So we were happy and the peasants rejoiced. Huzzah.

Then my brothers two cats moved in. Fitz is a Lt. Commander in the Navy, his family is now stationed in Australia, and it was going to be expensive to get the cats moved there. I think too that the logistics of it were a bit much for my sister in law to deal with as she prepared to move to the other side of the world with two small children. While I was a little concerned that the new cats might upset the carefully balanced litter pan lives of my cats, I wasn't overly concerned. More fool me. Boots and Grumman arrived and were ensconced in Rob's old bedroom. I set up a show tent for them to feel snug in. We opened the window that looks out at the pool so they could hear the fountains and watch the birds. We hoped for the best. Sadly, the best has not been all that good.

I spent about 4 hours today scrubbing walls, baseboards, floors, tile, fixtures and shower curtains. I'm not at all sure that even with all that I got all the pee up. Somecat, or perhaps more than one cat, is NOT happy at the arrival of the two Gentry cats and they are peeing everywhere. This is not good. I had a complete and total meltdown complete with tears, tossing shit about and screaming. We had worked SO hard, and spent SO much money on getting our house free from the smell of cat urine, and now here we go again.

What to do? Honestly I don't know. I can't keep Boots and Grumman locked in Rob's room for the duration. They show no inclination to come out and be socialized, and Boots has been declawed which is its own problem. Mike found a place that specializes in long term boarding for cats, but it is in New York state. I keep thinking that some kind of brainstorm is going to hit. Or some detante will be reached, but I think I'm going to be disappointed. Stay tuned. ::sigh::