10 Years and more.

I'm not going to write about 9/11. That almost seems cliche. I am, however, going to talk about where I was 10 years ago. I was getting ready to watch my best friend, marry the man of her dreams (or so she thought). She was supposed to get married on 09/15, which she did. The marriage didn't quite last a year, but that's another story. When the news of the events of 9/11 started filtering in, the first thing I thought of was Msh. I was still too broke, and not quite the gadget girl that I am today, for a cell phone. I tried and tried to get in touch with her, finally reaching her early afternoon. As soon as she answered, and realized it was me, she burst into tears. "I planned for everything to go wrong except this!" How do you plan for something like that? She had been evacuated from her building in D.C. at gunpoint and snarling dog, as the various forces tried to get people to safety.

After lots of deep breaths, scampering around, routing a bridesmaid from one airport to another, and jumping through the various hoops, the wedding did happen. And the thing that I didn't realize then, that I'm just realizing now, is that was the first day that I knew that life goes on. As it does today. It's hard to keep things in perspective, what with getting a bad mystery shop, and people being so unhappy with me, but there are bigger and more important things in life. I'm grateful for a friendship like the one I have with Msh. We have gone from whispering in dorm rooms into the middle of the night to figuring out that if we want to have a conversation without interruption, sometimes the best time is 745 in the morning. Relationships take work, trust, hope, and love, and I'm grateful to have a friend that I can go through all of that with.

PS - I should mention that while the second wedding didn't have quite the "Who's Who" and flair of the first, the second one got her the man who adores her, and the beautiful Savannah. Msh, ya done good. :)

What to write?

I get stuck on what to write. Or not write. I think of great things while I'm at work (with no blog access), but then have lost it before I come home. I need to do something about this. But, for right now, here's how my week started.

Mom had made new curtains for me. She dropped them in the mail with a couple of other things. The box showed up on Monday, ripped on one side. Inside was a towel and potholder from their Alaska trip, a cute journal idea, and an external hard drive. I was a bit confused, but figured that maybe the curtains weren't done yet, so I called her. "Mom, how am I supposed to access this hard drive? You didn't send me any cords." "What hard drive?" "The one in the box." "We didn't send you a hard drive."

Turns out at some point, the box got ripped open, and someone else's box got ripped open. Whoever discovered it didn't know what went where, so they just put it in the box. Someone got my curtains, and I got their hard drive. Isn't this how the movies start? Random piece of electronic gadget shows up and then big men in black with big guns show up to retrieve it. Uh, big men? I didn't access it. I gave it back to the USPS. And my curtains are MIA. Mom said she's remaking them.

In the words of my co-worker. Bummer, dood.

Public Behavior

Last night, while I was at work at the track, I noticed a couple of the guys looking at something behind me. I turned around, and saw a girl, straddling a guy who was laying in the grass. She was . . . wiggly, and her jeans were down. WAY down. Like, a couple of more inches and we would have REALLY had a show. One of the guys, laughing, took a picture. The girls friend, who was standing beside them, pointed out the picture taker. The girl then came over and said, "You need to delete that. I'm a teenager." Now. First of all, yes. As soon as the guy realized she was a teenager, the photo was deleted. But still. Where the heck were her parents? If I had acted like that . . . ??? She came over again and was indignant. "No one should be taking my picture." If you're going to put on a show, you better believe someone is going to watch. I don't care how old you are. If you act like that, you are going to get the results of that behavior.

Your thoughts?

Puppy Update

After ducking out of work just a little early, and rushing over the mountain, I was able to pick up my Britney dog. She's groggy, a little confused as to which paw goes where, but is otherwise quite happy to be home. And me? I'm going to sleep so much better now that I just have my same old 6" of bed back. Welcome home, Britney!

Britney Surgery

It's a well known fact that I love my puppy. I've had her since she was 4 weeks old, and she's now 10 years old. She had ACL surgery when she was 5, and has progressively gotten more and more gimpy. Last night I noticed that she was even more "off", and once we got home, I noticed that she had a large jelly-bean size mass in the middle of her paw pads. I called my vet this morning, and they worked her in, not only for the appointment, but also for the surgery they did today.

While right now I am sitting here missing the sound of her ticking toe nails, and her growling over a bone, I am so grateful for a vet that is sensitive to the limits of my finances, respectful of my time (it's a 40 minute drive, so they try to do as much as they can in one visit), and who calls to let me know the results of the surgery even as my dog is just waking up.

I've been advised that one of her kidney levels was slightly elevated, but liver and other levels were normal. The message said that she sailed through surgery, and that the mass didn't seem to go into her toe, and no amputation was needed. The other mass on her stomach had very shallow roots as well. Thank you, Bedford Animal Hospital, for taking care of my baby girl.

And, Britney? Hurry home. My bed is WAY too big for just me!!

Saturday Night Observations

As you may or may not be aware, on Friday and Saturday nights, I work at our local drag and dirt tracks. Weather puts a serious damper on these, and last night called for a 60% chance of rain. Just as we were going to open our gates, showers started. We waited it out, and eventually got underway. The drag strip, right behind us, wasn't able to get the track dry, and shut down. By the time the dirt track was rolled in, the sun was setting. The opening prayer was offered, and the National Anthem started. As it was playing, I was struck by how quiet it was. Normally the drag strip is running, and people keep talking. But this time, none of that. And, you could hear the anthem sounding off of the hills. People stood at attention, kids stopped playing, and the world seemed perfect. I thought about the Navy SEALS that were killed this weekend, and thought about how grateful I am that there are men and women like them, that allow us to enjoy our weekends and days as we choose.

Thank you, each and every one of you, for your service.

Bzz Bzz Bzz

The title of my blog is Life, Love, and other Drama. I chose that when I was dealing with some drama, but fortunately lately I haven't had a lot of that. Still, life goes on, as evidenced last night.

I was getting ready for bed (read: very scant clothing. Sorry, but it's important for the story) when I noticed some weird shavings/debris on the floor. I grabbed the vacuum, and figured I'd suck it all up quickly. Did I mention it was about 11:45p? Anyway, I got that up in about 10 seconds, and noticed more debris on the window sill. Weird. I have an A/C Unit there and figured there was some critter getting in and I'd spray it with bug spray. Then I noticed, at the top of my window, MORE debris. As I was running the vacuum over the spot, the wand went right through the now-paint-only wall, and BEES started pouring out of the wall. Like, black and yellow stingy creatures. Being the mature female I am, I high tailed it out of there, grabbing my dog and leaving the vacuum running. Deep breath, deep breath, call the landlord. Phone? Oh. Heh. Yeah. That's in the bedroom. So, I sucked in a deep breath, grabbed the broom and headed back in. My pretty iphone was covered in bees. Wasps. Hornets. Whatever. They were TICKED. I knocked it to the floor with the broom, brushed the critters off, and called my landlord. At midnight.

See, this is why I rent. Who else could I have called at midnight and let it be someone else's problem? I warned them that I was less than adequately dressed (a short bathrobe that was in the bathroom), and after making sure I was ok, they promised they'd be right over. And they were. Lord love them, they sucked up all the buzzing critters, and got the hole in the wall sealed up with cardboard and duct tape. And got me to more adequate clothing. So for now, my bedroom only has the occasional bzz'ing in it, and hopefully they'll get the nest removed this week. My dog and I survived with only a couple of minor stings. Considering the exposed skin, I'll take it.

Life. Enjoy it, right?

Thursday

Look! Another post! Already! I had forgotten how nice it is to just sit and type. Sometimes you get fluff. Sometimes not. I'm still not sure how this one is going to go.

I watched Big Brother tonight. Meh. Whatev. The show I've really enjoyed this past spring? Coming Home. Guaranteed tears every time, but so worth it. Lifetime, you now have me for 2 hours a week. I was telling my dad about it tonight, and about the woman in Texas who every day meets troops at the airport to welcome them home and thank them for their service. He told me about the Vietnam time, and soldiers being cursed, spit at, threatened, and belittled. I have talked to MANY people who have said that while they don't support the war, they do support our troops. I think that is so important. My friends son is in the Reserves, and he said that while he didn't like being over there, he and his companions wished that we could at least finish what we have started so that they don't ever have to go back.

I've been following the trending topic #40thingsaboutme. I started with my first one tonight - "I'm adopted, and I don't care about finding my 'real' mother. I've always felt like I'm right where I belong." That's usually the first question I'm asked, "Do you want to find your real mother?" Why? Is she lost? My real mother is the one that has dealt with me and my joys, heartaches, drama, and successes for the past 35 years. And, last I checked she's in California. I'm curious about my biological mother, simply for medical history reasons, but nothing more. I've been told as I get older I'll get curious but it simply hasn't happened yet. My adoption was never a secret. My grandmother has told me that once while in a sandbox, I asked another child, "Did your mother have you or did she get you?" It's just something I've grown up knowing. If you've stumbled across this somehow because of my tag, I'm happy to discuss my feelings and thoughts on the subject. Otherwise, it's time for a little WoW. 'Cause I'm something of a geek like that.

Wednesday and Hellgrammites

Welcome back to my spot. The thing tonight is I want to vent about certain issues, but given the fact that anyone could stumble on this or point certain other people to it, leads me to edit my thoughts. I'm leaning more and more towards an anonymous blog, but then, how could my friends see what I have to say?

Instead, let me share this little gem from a week or so ago. I was on a structure fire call, working rehab. Firefighters HATE rehab. They make up every excuse in the world to avoid having their vitals checked, but we're persistent, and had several guys hanging around cooling off. There had been several sightings of Hellgrammites. Oh, you haven't seen one? Let me enlighten you.

In finding that picture, I learned that the babies are Hellgrammites, and the adults are actually dobsonflies. Either way, they are a scary looking critter. And, that picture is NOT life size. When I stretched my thumb and pinky out, I couldn't cover the thing. That's well over 5". And those antler things? They pinch. Hard. And it hurts. Anyway, this critter was flitting around, and just as I pointed it out so people could watch for it, the stupid thing flies up and lands on, well, my girl chest-y parts. Deep breath, deep breath, don't freak out. I gritted my teeth and begged one of these big, tough firefighters to PLEASE get this thing off of me! Wanna guess how many immediately jumped up and volunteered? None. Not one. I had to beg and plead to get one of them to finally very carefully pinch its wings and get it off me.

Blood? Guts? Trauma? Not a problem. But the Hellgrammites could very well end up being the end of my volunteering days!!!

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

Thank you Glenn, for the kick in the tail to get me to writing again. Such changes in my life, in the past month or so. One of my co-workers left in May to pursue a different career path within our company. Unfortunately, he was also our manager. Then, one of my other co-workers left to assist another branch that was lacking in experience. Yesterday, another of my co-workers left to fill a full time position. All good things for them, but scary things for me. Selfish, aren't I? I've been on a cleaning tangent lately, and now my house is mom-clean, my yard clean, and my freezer clean. On top of that, the dentist that I have been madly in love with (for professional reasons only, I assure you) is leaving for family reasons. I can't take anyone else leaving my life!!! So, yeah. There have been things to write about. But tonight, let's tackle one of Mama Kat's suggestions, since it directly correlates with the previous.

"How are you becoming your mother?"

Cindy would tell you rather quickly it's because I'll cry at the drop of the hat. That's my Mama. But, what's been more interesting, and what she would have NEVER guessed when I was 15, that I am becoming quite happy with things being clean, and organized. I like that everything has a happy place, and I like simple. Not a lot of clutter being out, or knick-knacks out everywhere. Who would have thunk it?

Regarding previous dentist. I had, prior to him, bad dental work. I had a root canal and a crown done with no post, so that crown is put into place every day with fix-o-dent. The same tooth, on the opposite side, the bad dentist did a partial root canal and then a filling. Needless to say, that didn't last long and the tooth broke at the gum line. For years I simply made a wax tooth every day out of orthodontic wax to cover the hole at the edge of my smile line. This new dentist moved into the area and assured me he could fix it. He worked with my insurance and my budget, and $3500 later, I had an implant completed. You shoulda seen the smile . . . for 4 weeks. Then, one day, that new tooth moved. Bad. Bad bad. So, into the dentists office I went, dental implant removed, and healing began. Did I mention this dentist warranties his work? Yesterday, his replacement started MY replacement. This time, it has been more painful, by about 10 x. This post has been brought to you courtesy of Percocet.

How's that for rambling?

Couple of words

I can't comment on Facebook on this one, because that's what my gripe is. And, yes, before you say anything, I realize that autocorrect is most likely the cause. But, still. Here's a couple of examples.

"I'm trying to sale my car, if anyone is interested"

"I've been called an angle, but I think I have them fooled"

Sell, people, sell. And, ANGEL. Amazing what a difference the location of letters can make.

On another note. Over the past couple of weeks, I have been spring cleaning my house. Floorboards, curtains washed (and starched), comforters cleaned. Once I got my house cleaned, I started in on cooking. Brownies, chicken salad, egg salad, homemade salsa. Then, when I ran out of things I wanted to cook, I started in on my flower beds. Re-mulched, new flowers put in, flowers actually put in to my pots, etc. Today I actually have clothes hanging out on the line. Nesting, I've been accused of. And, before anyone says it, no, I'm NOT pregnant. However, in the past month, I've had big change in my life. My manager left for a better position. One of my favorite co-workers is transferring to another branch. Heck, even my dentist is moving away. Lots of change. I feel like the only thing that I have any control over is my house, so it's going to be under control, dag-nab-it. It's not working. I have a friend who has suggested that now would be a fantastic time to re-evaluate my life as it is. Am I truly happy? I don't know that I have a solid answer for that.

Writer's Workshop

Choose a prompt, post it on your blog, and come back to add your name to the link list below. Be sure to sign up with the actual post URL and not just your basic blog URL (click on the title of your post for that URL). For good comment karma try to comment on the three blogs above your name!!
The Prompts:
1.) One pet peeve that shouldn’t drive you crazy, but does.
2.) Share 10 “Must Haves” this Spring!
3.) What were you blogging about last year at this time? What has changed?
4.) What inspired you this week?
5.) Perform a random act of service. And then tell us about it.

I'm really trying to get back in this blogging spirit thing. I used to really enjoy writing, even if I have friends who are much better at picking the right words. So, I'm going to use some helps to get back in the swing of it, and maybe turn off a few of the filters along the way.

3. What were you blogging about last year at this time? What has changed?

The reason I chose this, was that the answer is actually *nothing*. And, the reason for that is filtering. What was going on in my personal life, dating life, was pretty rough. And, there's a very good chance that person could stumble on my blog, and I didn't think he would much care for me to have it out there. But, in the year that we were dating/talking/together (what DO we do in the 20 something year?) I discovered I filtered a lot of myself out, and that wasn't fair to me OR to him. I like McDonalds food. And I like country music. And I believe in God. And I have no problem with my dog sleeping in my bed. And if any of those are issues to the guy I'm dating, they are HIS issues. I can negotiate on brands of toothpaste, but there are some things that just are what they are. And I have spent the last year learning to like, and to be ok, with those things about myself. The strange thing is? There are people out there who like me just the way I am. Country music, french fries, and all.

I've made a really good friend over the past year plus or so. He told me this week I'm a growth stock. Now, being a banker and all, I found that rather funny. He said he'd buy my stock. There are some days you might feel like you're losing your shirt, but if you stick with me long enough, you're going to come out ahead. I'll take that.

Professional Responsibility?

I read an article today on CNN.com about too few doctors telling their patients they are overweight. Can I get a little amen? There’s no secret that I’m not a skinny girl. I don’t always eat right, and I don’t exercise every day. However, I’m working on it. And, I have a LONG way to go. But. I wonder if my trip might not have been shortened by a doctor 13 years ago saying, “Hey, you’ve gained 10 lbs since your last visit. What’s changed? You need to keep an eye on that.” Instead, you know how I realized how bad it was? When during one visit, the nurse left my chart in the room with me. There, in the doctor’s notes, it clearly stated, “Patient is obese.” And, I’d been seeing this doctor for a couple of years! Not once, in any check-ups, ‘I’m sick’ calls, or any other time, did this doctor mention it to me. The only way it got discussed was when I said, (after reading that), “Hey. I don’t like being fat. What do you recommend?” He then promptly put me on Meridia, and that was the end of it. When I have a client come into the bank and do a transaction, how upset is that client going to be if I don’t mention, “We didn’t receive your loan payment.” Or, “I see you got a service charge last month. Let’s do something about that.” If the professional that you are working with sees that there is a problem, don’t they have an obligation to SAY something about it? Yes, being overweight is a sensitive, touchy subject. But, that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be addressed. And, I would have much rather had 10 lbs to lose, than what I’m faced with today. So, yes, doctors. Please say something sooner, rather than later, to your patients!

Oh, and yes. I’ve switched doctors. To one that regularly does blood work, takes the time to discuss my current personal situation, and keeps me in check as far as diet and exercise. Isn’t that what they are getting paid to do?