This is the best cause I've heard of in eons. Animals already have plenty of help. Let's save some abandoned words!
So far I've adopted "quaeritate" and "ducenarious." Quaeritate deals with asking questions -- an obvious one for me -- and ducenarious is "relating to two hundred," which has nothing to do with anything, but I like the sound of it. :-)
Save the Words
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Now playing: Duncan Sheik - Shopping
via FoxyTunes
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
seen and heard, part 2
Well, I guess the only "heard" part was my chuckling.
--Only in northern Wisconsin: Guy had some sort of critter tail -- a raccoon, I think -- and two paws tied to the antenna of his truck. I am here to tell you they were NOT fake. I won't tell you how I know the butt end of the critter wasn't fake unless you ask, 'cause it's kinda gross.
--Grocery store parking lot: Next to a spot with a sign that said "parking for senior citizens only," there was one that said "parking for expectant mothers only." It was literally twice the width of a normal parking spot. I wasn't sure whether to be offended, so I chose to laugh, but then I got to thinking: People in wheelchairs and stuff have all kinds of paraphernalia to contend with, and handicapped spots are always just the normal-sized ones nearest the door. Why is the grocery store singling out women who already feel like whales?
I have camera-phone pix of both, but have to figure out how to upload them.
--Only in northern Wisconsin: Guy had some sort of critter tail -- a raccoon, I think -- and two paws tied to the antenna of his truck. I am here to tell you they were NOT fake. I won't tell you how I know the butt end of the critter wasn't fake unless you ask, 'cause it's kinda gross.
--Grocery store parking lot: Next to a spot with a sign that said "parking for senior citizens only," there was one that said "parking for expectant mothers only." It was literally twice the width of a normal parking spot. I wasn't sure whether to be offended, so I chose to laugh, but then I got to thinking: People in wheelchairs and stuff have all kinds of paraphernalia to contend with, and handicapped spots are always just the normal-sized ones nearest the door. Why is the grocery store singling out women who already feel like whales?
I have camera-phone pix of both, but have to figure out how to upload them.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
you never know what's gonna stick.
In all the thinking I did while I was tossing and turning earlier instead of sleeping, I got to thinking about that which has formed me, for better or worse. Believe it or not, that led to thinking about state mottos. (Yeah, I'm weird. Don't you know that by now? :-)
I grew up in Kansas, the motto of which is "ad astra per aspera," or in an actual living language, "to the stars through difficulties."
What a helluva way to sum up my life to date. That's what I've always tried to do. My ability and my ambition have yet to match up, which has caused me great frustration. I've always thought I should be in a better place than I am, at this point of my life particularly. I had much higher expectations for myself. I beat up on myself a lot for being so far behind my peers, for opportunities squandered, for questionable decisions made. A lot of it was out of my control, but a lot of it wasn't. I wish I could relax and be happy with what I've got, but I feel like there's always one more hurdle to be jumped, and then, as soon as I jump it, another one pops up. Life is one endless hurdle.
After Kansas, I headed to Missouri (state motto: Show Me). Nuff said there ;-) -- anyone who knows me knows how stubborn I am.
For the last 12 years I've been in Wisconsin -- state motto: Forward. I wonder when I'm going to take it to heart. :-\
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Now playing: Ingrid Michaelson - The Chain [Live from Webster Hall]
via FoxyTunes
I grew up in Kansas, the motto of which is "ad astra per aspera," or in an actual living language, "to the stars through difficulties."
What a helluva way to sum up my life to date. That's what I've always tried to do. My ability and my ambition have yet to match up, which has caused me great frustration. I've always thought I should be in a better place than I am, at this point of my life particularly. I had much higher expectations for myself. I beat up on myself a lot for being so far behind my peers, for opportunities squandered, for questionable decisions made. A lot of it was out of my control, but a lot of it wasn't. I wish I could relax and be happy with what I've got, but I feel like there's always one more hurdle to be jumped, and then, as soon as I jump it, another one pops up. Life is one endless hurdle.
After Kansas, I headed to Missouri (state motto: Show Me). Nuff said there ;-) -- anyone who knows me knows how stubborn I am.
For the last 12 years I've been in Wisconsin -- state motto: Forward. I wonder when I'm going to take it to heart. :-\
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Now playing: Ingrid Michaelson - The Chain [Live from Webster Hall]
via FoxyTunes
more typing out loud
So earlier tonight I watched this Lou Grant episode where he finds out he has thyroid cancer and has to get his thyroid taken out. There has been a lot of chatter on the industry blogs lately about this show, mostly of the "geeze, remember the good ol' days?" variety, and I had to think the same thing after seeing this one.
Specifically, the part where Mrs. Pynchon (the owner/publisher, based not-at-all loosely on Kay Graham, former owner/publisher of the Washington Post) came to Lou's office to ask how he was feeling about the upcoming surgery made me sad. She told him that anything she or the newspaper had that he needed was his, and gave him a hug.
I can't see that happening today. Lord knows it's the opposite of my most recent experience. I think compassion in newspapers went out the window when big corporations came in. Now they've run both the papers and the people into the ground, and everybody's a loser. It sucks.
I did have to laugh about how everybody in the whole newsroom found out Lou's test results in nothing flat, though. HIPAA regulations today wouldn't allow for that!
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Now playing: Ingrid Michaelson - Be OK
via FoxyTunes
Specifically, the part where Mrs. Pynchon (the owner/publisher, based not-at-all loosely on Kay Graham, former owner/publisher of the Washington Post) came to Lou's office to ask how he was feeling about the upcoming surgery made me sad. She told him that anything she or the newspaper had that he needed was his, and gave him a hug.
I can't see that happening today. Lord knows it's the opposite of my most recent experience. I think compassion in newspapers went out the window when big corporations came in. Now they've run both the papers and the people into the ground, and everybody's a loser. It sucks.
I did have to laugh about how everybody in the whole newsroom found out Lou's test results in nothing flat, though. HIPAA regulations today wouldn't allow for that!
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Now playing: Ingrid Michaelson - Be OK
via FoxyTunes
learning to be lonely.
You know? What is there to say, really. It's February. There's piles of snow on the ground. We're still having single digit temps. You can't walk out the door with a body part uncovered or it will freeze in nothing flat. And DAMN, if it isn't depressing.
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and my conclusions rather disturb me. As in, it's finally occurred to me, after living by myself (with 2 brief exceptions) since 1986 -- it's bad for me to be alone. Not only because when I'm sick as a dog and can't be more than 2 feet from a bathroom, there's no one to run out to buy me Imodium and saltines, but because I tend to be really broody, and that's a bad thing when you're chronically depressed to begin with. My mind goes to all sorts of dark places without someone to bounce things off of and remind me that I'm not totally worthless.
I've always prided myself on my independence. It sucks to admit I need people!
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Now playing: Rebecca Rego - Mixed Rain and Snow
via FoxyTunes
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and my conclusions rather disturb me. As in, it's finally occurred to me, after living by myself (with 2 brief exceptions) since 1986 -- it's bad for me to be alone. Not only because when I'm sick as a dog and can't be more than 2 feet from a bathroom, there's no one to run out to buy me Imodium and saltines, but because I tend to be really broody, and that's a bad thing when you're chronically depressed to begin with. My mind goes to all sorts of dark places without someone to bounce things off of and remind me that I'm not totally worthless.
I've always prided myself on my independence. It sucks to admit I need people!
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Now playing: Rebecca Rego - Mixed Rain and Snow
via FoxyTunes
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
a tip for the medical types
Add me to the roster of the "stuck with drs. who don't give a shiat" club.
I understand -- really and truly, having been horribly overworked for years -- that when you put in a min. of an 8 hr day at your real job and then go give 4 hrs on top of that to poor people for free, that you might be tired by the end of the day. But dammit -- be nice to people anyway! Folks get whiny when they don't feel good. You should have figured that out in med school.
"I've been puking and (same thing from the other end) since 5 this morning (it's 8 pm)."
"You're fine."
"My glucometer broke and I haven't been able to check my sugars all day."
(Nurse did it before he saw me) -- "162, not that bad."
"I slammed my finger in the garage door. Look at that pretty shade of black."
"Nothing I can do about that. You're fine."
"Shouldn't I get my INR checked?"
"It's fine. Here's some Imodium. Dial back on the metformin for a couple days and stay hydrated. Bye."
Now, I also understand that lately I have been sucking up a lot of this clinic's resources and they undoubtedly are tired of seeing me every week. And I'm sure he wanted to go home. But dammit -- all I want is 1) to be taken care of and 2) to be taken seriously.
ARGH.
I understand -- really and truly, having been horribly overworked for years -- that when you put in a min. of an 8 hr day at your real job and then go give 4 hrs on top of that to poor people for free, that you might be tired by the end of the day. But dammit -- be nice to people anyway! Folks get whiny when they don't feel good. You should have figured that out in med school.
"I've been puking and (same thing from the other end) since 5 this morning (it's 8 pm)."
"You're fine."
"My glucometer broke and I haven't been able to check my sugars all day."
(Nurse did it before he saw me) -- "162, not that bad."
"I slammed my finger in the garage door. Look at that pretty shade of black."
"Nothing I can do about that. You're fine."
"Shouldn't I get my INR checked?"
"It's fine. Here's some Imodium. Dial back on the metformin for a couple days and stay hydrated. Bye."
Now, I also understand that lately I have been sucking up a lot of this clinic's resources and they undoubtedly are tired of seeing me every week. And I'm sure he wanted to go home. But dammit -- all I want is 1) to be taken care of and 2) to be taken seriously.
ARGH.
Monday, February 2, 2009
the things we do for fashion.
I owned these shoes, around the same time of this photo (late 1970s, I'd say). Except....except....oh, I can hardly bear to say it....mine were BROWN. As in, coffee-with-lots-of-cream brown and a poo-brown "swoosh." They were the coolest thing ever, and my dad bitched nonstop at Foot Locker about paying $40 for a pair of shoes. (Lucky for Dad, by the time Air Jordans came out, I was buying my own shoes....;-)
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Now playing: Beck - Orphans
via FoxyTunes
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Now playing: Beck - Orphans
via FoxyTunes
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