"That was you!?" He got the email but not the resume. He also doesn't get a secretary. I'm to re-send the resume on the off-chance they get an OK for a volunteer. [There's not much I can do, but I'm a good secretary.] I also, mid-sentence, offered my hand for that child-porn bust, because, not that it's my right to have pride in him, I did, indeed, feel pride - I was proud of him.

We chatted about block watch (I gave the name of our local officer, and mentioned that I've got kids older than these cops) and we went our separate ways. I guess I have cockles, because seeing him warmed the cockles of my heart.

It's snowing. My boss called me at 9:30 and told me to stay home. Good; I'd have to change into grownup clothes after dressing quickly to snake the toilet and, frankly, I was already exhausted.

My dad asked my mom if I was going to work. No? Then I could take him to the barber. After I phoned to make sure that Joe was there, I put chocolates in my car, moved my still-undone holiday cards out of the passenger seat, and loaded in Dad. I showed him that the tacky license plate frame that's on Barack's rear plate is the bejeweled one he got me at Caldor over a decade ago. (Yeah, I only just found it, but there was no way I wasn't going to put it onto my car after he got it for me.)

By the time I'd finished dropping off cookies at my bank and got back to the barber, Dad had shown off pictures of his granddaughter, given Joe his box of chocolates, and had his hair trimmed. It still hadn't started snowing, so I dragged Dad on two more errands.

Chocolates for the lady at the cigarette store, who hides the "deals" so that they're there when I stop in, and who gives me nice-smelling incense. My dad asked me to get him a pack; No, your oxygen will blow up. [le sigh] I did grab all the change out of my ashtray (not going to work, I didn't get a paycheck, yet, either) and bought him a donut in the same plaza. Then to the chiropractor, to bring chocolates for them and to apologize but their thank-you card is on my desk at work. (Oh - Doc sends me a basket for being the legal secretary in an office with which we have mutual clients/patients, not because I'm his patient.) His rockin' office manager Renee gave me a hug, Doc gave me a hug AND said my face looks thinner and that I look great. All in all, a good visit!

My dad likes to go home via the beach, along the same route I ride my tricycle, and to stop at Driftwood, the boat dock. When we were little kids, Dad - pre-Alzheimer's, back when he was my Daddy [he earned my loyalty in those days, which is why I do my best to remember that he's sick], would take us up there to look at the water. We only stopped for a minute; even though I didn't take him out of the car, except at the barber, he was tired.

The rest of the way home was weird. Our street is only three blocks. I turned onto the first block, showed him where a neighbor had put in a small fountain with a lighthouse [he loves lighthouses]... he asked what street we were on. (I turn 39 next week, and we moved into this house on my first birthday. 38 years, shy a week, and he didn't know.) On the second block, he recognized Joe's house, and I had to repeat why I don't talk to that gossiping shit anymore. I pointed out, at the end of the block, Melissa's house, and told him that Meliss' had just had a baby. He doesn't remember Melissa, or the wrong name he called her [Maureen] although we've been friends since the 1970s.

A beige car pulled up in front of our house as we pulled into the driveway. Now, when I was fighting for Workers' Comp to pay the medical bills when I busted my wrists at my last job, they followed me home and watched my office for several days. (When my boss walked out to the office porch, they took off. Not my imagination; the other secretary saw them, too.) I really thought that this might be someone either following me (I mailed my application for assistance with my medical bills, yesterday) OR that it was, again, an insurance agent harassing the lady in the house next door to ours. I walked up to the car, and the aforementioned Meliss' in the back seat was next to her bundle of joy. We yelled at her husband for saying that I can't see the baby because I'm not family. [Her husband isn't really horrid. They're good neighbors and friends. We got into it at the block watch merely because we sat next to each other - much to Officer Moscotto's amusement. He changed my tricycle tire. I made sure that, even though they're not quite on our block, they were at our block party this past summer.] We talked about important stuff for a few minutes until my mom got a hoodie, ready to yell at me for not getting my dad in - Dad was heading to the car to see the baby - and came out to meet Isabella. I was sorry to see them go, but Meliss' looked drawn and we all thought she should go in.

We never made it to get our nails done - I'm sick of the festive hand-painted design I've had for two weeks, and want the pale pink I usually wear - or to Trader Joe's one plaza away. This means that I really don't have any ingredients to make nice dinners for my Mom :( Oh, we'll make do! but she seems to not hate my cooking.

Quiet weekend. I need to finish the heat neck pillow I'm making for Tad (the first project I've nearly finished with Eddie the Sewing Machine), and to activate my new cell phone. (Yay for free-after-rebate!)

I just changed my sheets to my favorite Wamsutta satin weave. I'm going to post, and then I'll curl up with The Visitant. When I'm done with that, I've got a whole bunch of Traveling Pants and DVDs from Monica.

No candles upstairs (oxygen tanks), but Samantha got me one that she put with the mojo bag that she gave me before we went to lunch (!) so I'll sit down and enjoy the gentle flame with Hugh.

Unless I'm lucky enough to get to hang out with the ever-mentally-stimulating Tad, I'm curling up and reading ALL weekend.

Books or Tad will make my brain happy.

if it had happened fifteen minutes earlier, i could have caught a ride from one of the neighbors bringing a child to work. it occurred to me to call Dre, since he's a good neighbor like that - but he's on vacation. the only other cars i saw of people i know are guys who work nights and i'm not waking them for a stupid one-mile walk. (i'm home to wait for the repairman. my mom has enough on her plate.)

i feel like we can't catch a break. my dad's social worker had missed a few appointments with my mom, and hadn't left her card. so i contacted the VNA and said that i'm sorry she'd been sick and i hoped she was feeling better. (meow) she showed up today. my mom was a bit pissed (but maybe amused? - ah, probably not) when i walked back into the house and asked how she was feeling. we got her (and, from her, a possible lead on a local place for my dad - which has available beds! - "while my brother looks for something else," i told him, though the Jewish Home would be appropriate enough for my brother to not need to work further) and then... the garage door. aside from the lost salary, i hate not finishing my work.

the guy i talked to at the State suggested - and meant it - that i threaten violence, and then i will have no problem getting financial assistance. tempting though it is on a day like today, i think that retail therapy would be more fun. oh, except for the debt i'd incur...

i know that things could be worse, and i don't want to tempt Fate. i'm literally trapped right now, though, and it's not a nice feeling.

ah, well, i'll just catch up on livejournal and emails, for now.

heyboy's happy, at least; mama's home to pet him.

the mouse is pretty self-explanatory, though i'll add that all four USB ports on the laptop are now temperamental. despite the lights being on, indicating that appliances are, indeed, plugged in, they're simply not working.

my dad expects to be waited on hand and foot and when we don't, he tantrums. i know he's been hospitalized recently, but if you really want to see a fit, remind him that he's not even close to the sickest person in the house. (my mom's eye is healing nicely! thank goodness, and the cancer stays back thanks to the the marvels of modern medicine.) (do we even want to remind him of the chronic pain that makes merely sitting upright a chore? he keeps insisting he has no pain, to which my catty mother has replied, "no sense, no feeling." meow! >^^<) It doesn't help that we don;t have household help. i haven't seen my sister over here since the day of my mom's surgery (August 13). The social worker hasn't been here in weeks... I'll be contacting the VA tomorrow and, if I don't get results, our congresswoman.

the neighborhood kids have been around a lot. M is going to be a teenager in a few days, and she's a really nice, sweet girl. she's dubbed me as her new best friend and has invited me to her birthday party tomorrow (website cranky). she's also the neighborhood babysitter; one of her charges lives in the house in which i had my first babysitting job (and, indeed, i recommended her). M's little brother, m, will ride his bike down here - on the sidewalk - to talk to me. He just started first grade. They, with D, who just started kindergarten, were here this morning to watch the fourteen turkeys in the yard (and to see whose car - my brother's - was at the house). the kids know everything because the parents talk and they listen. without them, i'd have very little idea of what's going on! I've also begun sitting on the stoops with the kids' mothers.

yesterday, everyone wanted a turn on our trike! i reminded them all how they made fun of me when i bought it... M was begging to ride it again today, despite the two-wheeler she was riding at the time of inquiry! (it's rough because i hate sharing.)

my car is now in the garage. i was putting that off as long as possible because the garage has always been my mom's domain, and i'm not used to her having sold her car. However, after the police left last Saturday, I didn't use the car Sunday, and on Monday I rode the trike to work. when i came home, i looked at the car - and isn't it odd that there were four deliberate coffee pours on my poor Sonata? i filed a police report, and strongly suggested that the officer pull Nora's file since she has a history with the police. on my behalf, he was VERY pissed. (that evening, i called Dre, since he gossips like a woman, and i pointed that out, as well as that i wanted the other families to be wary. he and his lady friend have rigged cameras on the house, and M and m's parents have motion-sensitive lights on their property.) So Jacob, the car, and Keith, the trike, are sharing the garage. So Jacob, the car, and Keith, the trike, are sharing the garage.

Work is as good as it's gonna get. i love my job, and i really appreciate my boss giving me time to go with my mom on her, or my dad's, doctor's appointments so that my mom doesn't have to go alone. (we can't trust my dad not to "wander" if mom needs the bathroom, or to *gasp!* go for his prescriptions. during hers, she likes an "extra pair of ears" to pay attention to instructions, or assist with questions. it's one of the few things i can do for her.)

social security denied me - i "make too much." i'd be above poverty level IF i didn't have medical expenses but, after said expenses, i'm several thousand dollars below the federally-mandated poverty level. so i sent my appeal on friday.) i ache so much that i've considered prednisone. i'd spoken with the lady who owns the gym where I used to have physical therapy, and she said that the side effects would affect my riding the trike. (One of my boss's clients suggests - strongly - that i see a rheumtologist.)

My first article on six sentences is up. i hope you enjoy. i haven't updated modified news because i don't have enough writing mojo to do anything more creative than six sentences. (there are two more brief articles in their queue.

i'm a full week behind on buddies' blogs, so enjoy this because now i'm gonna be busy.

(also, if you're bored, you can check out the different photo sets that i've uploaded so far onto flickr.

my dad is home and, we hope, doing better.  he was hallucinating some from his medication; i find it intriguing that, when he was halucinating about his family, there were only four of us (including him).

 my mom's first eye surgery is tomorrow.  maybe she's scared? because she's acting uncharacteristically.  i was utterly appalled when she asked when it can stop being about me and my lunatic (her word) sister and everyone else ... and start being about her.  she knows i've bumped my appointments all month to accommodate hers and my dad's, and that i even booked her van for her tomorrow.

then i came across this post by urbanyogi and it hit home.

i have over 400 posts in my RSS but i'll type this and go to bed.

got up early to bring my car to the garage before work. got a call before i left that my pain center appointment was canceled. i need script refills. i could go to the office at which it had been scheduled, but the office staff is condescending. the office i go to is closed for renovations. i said i'd go to meriden

however, it was pouring and it hurts to drive in the rain. i'll survive, i hope.

got to the garage (after turning back for my coffee mug), got to work 40 minutes early. my car was ready as promised, and i rushed home and picked up my mom to go to the VA for dad's neuro appointment.

no banking, no grabbing a book. and no prescriptions until the middle of next week.

dad's neuro doctors are still diagnosing. i'll need to talk to him about what they told him.

got to his room. waited, what, mom, an hour? for a doctor on his floor (he's being treated there for COPD) to talk to us. (i gave her hell - my dad hates needles, and we were promised they wouldn't use his hands for IVs. three sticks in each hand before they used his arm, after all. he's bruised to his elbow.) he may get to come home in the next few days.

after that? we'll see.

ride? today? surely you jest.

i can't believe i didn't fall asleep behind the wheel coming home from the supermarket pharmacy (saturday's bike trip was 4.6 miles, not the "shortest route" 3.58) and i didn't even go inside. my mom got my script for me when she got hers. (i wanted fresh produce but not enough to stand up...) and if you think i'm tired, well, the pharmacist emailed to say my mom looks wiped out.

we are. since mom posted, i can say publicly that my dad was hospitalized on sunday. almost identical to what happened to him in 2004, with one difference: my mom and i knew what to look for. saturday, even though he was looking peaked and dehydrated, we got him to drink, and i was talking to him about walt bansley. since he wasn't doing horrible, we figured we'd take him to primary care in the next few days. my brother and his wife came down for breakfast on sunday. i noticed a bit of an infection in my dad, and we can't give him antihistemines (because of his medications) so i hoped that the hospital would have something they could give him. he started fading over breakfast and forgot where we were going in the short ride from the diner to the VA. my brother told me later that the ER doctor said we were only a few hours shy of a collapse.

i'm wiped out, but rode every day except sunday and today (when i woke up, it was dark). my brother went back and forth between his home, out of state, and our town to visit until my dad was moved out of ICU.

he's got an infection that was resistant to antibiotics, but it looks like he'll be able to come home, on oxygen, soon. i have to go into the ofice saturday. my mom thinks my sister is sensitive to the infection, but she can come over while i'm at work, if dad is home by then. (i'll take the trike to work and to the church book sale, and to the beach, to give her time to visit. that's for my parents' sake; i think she's acting like a jerk, refusing to visit if i'm home - only my parents suffer, not me.)

when i met sean, his dad had to be hospitalized. sean was yelling that his dad deserved better care because he's veteran. i wondered why he didn't go to the VA? - the VA who take care of my dad are giving him amazing care and i'm glad i got him registered. (however... i shake the hands of veterans as i meet them, and this gets overwhelming when we're visiting!!

meanwhile, mom has her first eye surgery monday. cataract, heal, repair retina, heal, other cataract. at least the eye surgery group provides a van; i'll go with her, but won't have to drive. we're getting picked up at 10:30 a.m. i may have to go to the office for an hour, and i'll bring my laptop with me.

i wish i'd taken the trike to work today. (i didn't have time to stop for coffee, and since i hadn't frozen coffee the night before, my iced coffee, even in a thermos cup, would have been warm. i usually freeze half a mug the night before and pour fresh coffee over it.) there were gorgeous kites on the beach today; i saw when i was driving home.

after that, i finally changed my sheets (which i'd planned to do on sunday but was, well, DISTRACTED because dad was doing so poorly) and took my ride.

usually, it gets easy, and i fall into a zone, within two or three blocks. i'd gone past my old grammar school - 3/4 of a mile away, before i felt it, and my right knee hurt the whole time.

i thought i saw my old friend from work, shane, as i was pedaling. the guy was a hottie, but not shane. i didn't stop; i don't like to break my rhythm.

i stopped to take a few pictures at the beach, and was nearly eaten alive by sand flies. when i go again, i swear, i'm going to put that stinky absorbine jr. spray all over - it's horrid. (but it works for pain so maybe the flies will hate it. maybe next time, i won't use mango scented lotion.)

the first few pictures i took from the bike path were pretty bad but i readjusted the camera and these three are good. note that this is walking distance from my house. when we were teenagers, we'd go back and forth, walking around, sometimes stopping for something to eat or for cigarettes, multiple times a day.

this is why i love riding by the beach.

while i am way too tired to finish my day in ny post, i'll say that corey tattooed the inside... of my left ankle. visible. i had faith in him before he started to tattoo me, and i feel good about it now. i had a great afternoon.

i've got hundreds of words typed so far, and still need to dump my camera. i'm exhausted; dad had another checkup and, rushing home from work notwithstanding, fighting with a party bus (??) on a residential, one-way street because i couldn't get through notwithstanding, i'm wiped out. my mom's punchy enough that she laughed herself into a nosebleed.

also...at the risk of sounding like a total snot... i struggle with my weight. most of my friends do, even the ones i think look amazing. i'm utterly flabbergasted that i wasn't in pain on sunday, after all the walking i did on saturday, and after all the stairs (subway + two transfers each way). my ankle, obviously, feels raw, and the soles of my feet ached a bit, but my knees didn't scream, my back didn't ache any worse than usual... i'm far from in shape but, somehow, i'm doing something right. i feel damn good about it but don't want to rub it in on anyone else who's struggling.

today was a good mail day. i got a check toward a debt owed to me, which will go into the bank tomorrow. i got lamb for thom. i also got a bunch of books i'd ordered on half.com on saturday and today - gratuities for my massage therapist, books we'd talked about during my last session. along with the two doctor appointments that i must make this week, i've got to get in touch with mona and schedule for friday or this coming weekend. (she should come over on saturday: block party on our street...) this is a reminder. and to brag that half a dozen of the books are mine :)

that's it. i've been up since 5 a.m. and i'm going to sleep.

after i leave half.com feedback.