From blog

1. Accept the award by pasting the graphic on your blog along with the name of the person who granted the award and a link to his/her blog.
2. Pass the award to another 15 blogs that are worthy of acknowledgment, remembering to contact each so they know they have been selected.

1. Castlehom - my friend Shannon's dad - he's become my friend over the past few years
2. Cyberoutlaw's Hideout - his photography is superb, and his stories are creepy because they could be true. i HIGHLY recommend his noir collection Burning in the Heat, which I desperately need to review
3. Famous by proxy - Shannon's fiancee. She's crafty and cooky and kooky and funny and I like her
4. Lara - she will probably be posting more. She's one of my favorite people on the planet
5. Fallen Angel - the perfect example of biology not making a family. Politically, I disagree with half of what he says. Doesn't matter - he says it eloquently
6. Red Shoooes n Inky Fingers - full of crafty goodness! a lady I know from a modification group comprised of some good people and a few shitheads a lifestyle that's no longer part of my life but I love the crafts and we'll share ideas once I can figure out how to make my sewing machine stitches stay put
7. Scarybaldguy - another perfect example of biology not making a family. computer guru. dad. crazy cat man (as opposed to crazy cat lady). we have a movie snuggle date as soon as I can afford to move to Phoenix
8. Shannon Larratt is Zentastic - i'd known Shannon in a modification group comprised of some good people and a few shitheads a lifestyle that's no longer part of my life, but I'm glad he's still around
9. The First Church of Common Sense - she works with the downtrodden and describes the interoffice bullshit beautifully
10. Twelve 28 Tattoo - the blog of tattoo ARTIST Joy Rumore
11. WHaT WaS I THiNKiNG WHeN I SHuT MY MouTH? - OMG this is awesome. It's the archives of my friend Lianna's blog. I've known her since before I'd started stretching my earlobes. That's a long time. If you'd like to read the archives of a journalist who knows a bunch of psychotic people, this is it.

• PROTECT - the National Assoication to Protect Children
• Chris Rose - Times-Picayune - NOLA.com - he wrote 1 Dead in Attic: After Katrina
• The Consumerist
• Food Driven - forget the ice cream truck; this is a CUPCAKE truck in New Haven and someday I'll read the blog with enough time to get to the day's location!
• Geoff Fox - when he publishes his photography, you'll forget that he's our local meteorologist
• White House.gov Blog Feed - I love that we live in such progressive times. The White House is almost as cool as my mom, blog-wise.

1. Zen and Chocolate - I wait for her email, saying that she's updated.
2. Cosmic’s Corner
3. fmd - my darling Quin, who is the mother of our son Taylor, the recipient of (why the hell would he want when he's on a Naval ship in the middle of nowhere) Ramen soup
4. The Purple Chai
5. Airy Persiflage

I really hate the ride. Ten minutes on the highway - cake - and the next seven miles on a main/secondary road which keeps changing, and so does the speed limit (which I'm trying to obey in more than my own town, since I'm trying to make my own town a better place). It's annoying that the facility is way out to hell and gone but (1) the north haven facility doesn't take my insurance (although the dr does) - over $2000 extra and (2) MyRide doesn't go up there, so I drove myself and I forewent the anesthesia again. 

Even so, it's just super uncomfortable, not miserable. I went in around 2:35. Blood pressure, go into the procedure room, "drop 'em", put in my headphones to try to relax, get swabbed. Doc comes in, pats me on the shoulder. I hear, "Pinch and burn."  OH YEAH it burns.  Then, "Pressure, pressure..." and I could feel the pressure down my left leg and in my belly. Needle out, no bleeding so no bandage. Lie still for a few minutes until I can bend my stiff leg. Roll over, get up. Show tattoos to the tech. give her Kenny Cuccaro's name. Go to Recovery, sit for a few minutes, then hear my alarm to remind me to take my 3:00 Lyrica. Ask for crackers and water, since I've been fasting since 8:40 (next time, per Doc, I can have lunch) a.m. As soon as I get my BP results (120/80 post-procedure), I go back into the sweltering heat - my car hasn't even had time to start boiling.

The tech told me that Panera was across the street! It's a big deal to those of us who have to travel five miles to the closest (to the damn mall and I hate the mall). I got a coffee (don't care that it was hot - I had finished my first and only cup at 7:30 a.m.!!) and an orange scone (because I love orange scones) and drove home. 

At least, with the annoying drive, I had time to contemplate: It was 100F in Wallingford. I can't believe that the Yankee Silversmith closed! I'm glad I have air conditioning in my car, and I really felt bad for the older people I saw driving with hot air blowing in their faces. I wished I could ride my tricycle on some of this road. I can't believe Walgreen's is torn down (though I think they may be rebuilding). I can't get over a restaurant, boarded up, catercorner from the train station. AND how it's not fair that gasoline prices are skyrocketing just as we need to use our car air conditioners. (If I didn't have after-work errands today, my leg be damned I would have taken the trike to work. It's only a little numb now. I can't take it tomorrow - we have a deposition scheduled, and I don't think that it would look professional for the Plaintiff's attorney's secretary to have a tricycle chained to the stairs...)

Ice on for fifteen, off for fifteen. My mom made me a salad for dinner - it was really good. And that should have been it.

Until I checked my MySpace messages. And saw Alli's Friend Status: Worried

Damn it ALL: Libby's cancer is back. Again.

When I'm in charge of the world, nice people won't get cancer, only evil people. And by the off chance nice people get cancer, it won't keep recurring.

With the exception of meeting her husband, Libby can't catch a flippin' break. It's just NOT FAIR and I don't care that life isn't fair. She's everyone's best friend. (I treasure her like a sister, truly like a sister.) Her post last night was about 1/4 news of what's happening, 1/8 "please pray," 1/8 asking about alternative treatments, and the other HALF telling her friends how much she loves us.) I haven't seen her since she organized a benefit for the cancer center. (that time was just a trim... the gas cost more than the cut, but I figured that presences in front of the TV cameras was more important than just mailing a check for the amount of the cut)

She's asking for prayers - that she can get surgery. If you know her, or if you're the praying type, or both...

I am going to ask her if, while she waits for surgery, an epidural like mine might be a source of temporary relief. Because they use X-Rays to assist in guiding the needle, it MIGHT be possible.

I'm calling her now. (Wish me luck getting through: the hosp. phone number was bulletined on Myspace; it's already busy.)

Next was the supermarket. I got to the register, reached into my pocket, and found that the cigarette case I was using as a wallet - with all my cash for the week, and my driver's license - was gone. I was so embarrassed. It was self-checkout and I asked someone with a store uniform to please clear it out because people were waiting, and I'd be back. I ran to my car, and checked my sweater pockets, the floor, under the seats... nothing.

I wanted to get to the church book sale before it closed, so I grabbed quarters out of their little cells and brought in the two bags that we'd filled. I think it's supposed to be a "trade," but I paid for my books.

Got home, called Lara, asked her to please call Jamie, whose number I don't have, and ask her if I left the case on her counter or lost it in her couch.

Sunday morning, robbed of an hour's sleep, I took Mom to the supermarket. I hate driving without my license!

Then I drove to New Haven to plot out the route to the doctor's the next day. Social Security didn't like my doctor's opinions, and wanted me to have an independent evaluation. The streets were still closed, long after the parade ended. I finally parked the car and walked to find the doctor's; however, I couldn't find a parking lot. GRRR... I got gas, and still haven't found Ben & Jerry's Willie Nelson (I'm checking every quickie mart I pass, seems like!)

Monday morning, I drove to work, still not thrilled about driving without a license. Did my thing, drove to the post office. As I went around a corner, the mail slid. I got to the post office, parked the car, and opened the driver's door. Why my mom missed the red outline of the cigarette case with my cash and license, I don't know, but I found it! It was between the seat and where a running board would be if we still had running boards, which is why I couldn't find it. (Maybe it was down lower and moved up over the course of my driving, I don't know.) Anyway, it's found. And I feel better.

Though not nearly as good as I felt yesterday during my massage! (I just stopped typing so I could book another one; I used my income tax rebate for a package!) I doze in and out, as I try to match my breathing to the background music of the beach and gulls. When Mona's done, and is doing "energy work," I can tell because I can feel the heat of Power as her hands hover over me. I simply can't imagine how miserable I would have been this morning when the car got sick, if I hadn't had that today.

There's only one person at the garage, now; I guess they're entitled to get lunch. I'll post this, call back in half an hour, and read the book I've got in the office, in the meantime!

chrissy, the other crazy cat lady (along with me) who lives in the house behind ours -- but wait. if you don't live in a residential area, you may not get it.

i posted this map picture of my first trike route.

 

so... chrissy lives behind us. when i dropped off her son's book on saturday morning, she said, "why dontcha come over on christmas eve. i know it's not your holiday, but..." making sure i understood that she was inviting me to join her family and friends, and that she knows i'm not Christian. really, she had more to worry about, as far as she was concerned, with feeding me non-meat items.

i felt so... loved and welcomed. i told her, obviously, that coffee and someone to talk to would be fine. and that i'd love to come.

come christmas eve, as i'm heading down to my car (it was much too muddy and icy from the snow to do as we do during the summer, and just cut through our shared back yards), Pin (warning = adult page = beware when clicking), my oldest son, called to wish me a happy holiday! oh, i kvelled... he's never had my number (that's between him and Pops) so he's never phoned me before. and no, he wasn't calling for money; he works three jobs. he's got a new dog and he's happy and healthy and busy, and that's all a mother can ask for. he likes nice things, and knows that no one's gonna hand them to him, so he's working for them. this is a kid who'll never tell me to blow off work to come down and hang out, let me tell you. (neither would his brothers... though his Pops has been guilty of that one.) i know he gets this from seeing other people make messes of their lives, but i'd like to think a little of me got through to him.

as we ... well, we got disconnected! and chrissy phoned to say that her granddaughter wanted to know if i was coming over. my key was in the ignition, so i left at that point and drove. (i'm so spoiled... we used to walk up and down our block on christmas eve when we were kids. heck, we walked all over town - miles - in colder weather, weather so cold the boom box batteries would freeze and play "45s sound[ing] like 33s!")

dre', the wonderful mechanic/neighbor, and his lady friend and their daughter had given us a candle for the holiday, which we can't light because of my dad's oxygen. i brought that with me, for everyone to enjoy; i also got chrissy's granddaughter a rubber duckie with "tattoos" and a "pierced ear." i was seated between the other two smokers, next to the window.

i got stuffed on broccoli and cheese, and tortellini. i wish i'd left room for dessert!

more important than the food was the conversation. i heard about chrissy's kids (including her granddaughter's father) terrorizing the babysitters, some of whom are still close to the family and were there. the stories actually made chrissy's husband dizzy with remembrance!

her son B came over from break from work; he barely had time to eat two plates of food and rush back out. poor guy - no sarcasm.

later, her other son, J, came over - he's the one whose screenplay i'm transcribing. he's a doll. everyone wanted his attention, so i quietly left the room with chrissy to work on her computer for her for a bit, to give him some breathing room.

when we came out, i talked to J while chrissy "fixed a plate" for my mom. the four foil carry-out containers nearly tore the bag! (the anginettes are gone... the chocolate chip cookies are nearly gone... and the tortellini and broccoli are going down...)

there were small gifts but, more importantly, a house full of love and family and stories and, i hope, everyone else i care about was as lucky as i was.

last sunday, after the apple festival, my mom was looking for me out the window as i brought in the trike.

"go online. you need to see the email i forwarded from your uncle steve."

note that uncle steve is my favorite uncle, and probably my favorite relative of genetics after my parents and brother.

mom looked excited.

"did [my cousin, uncle steve's daughter] amanda get married."

"no."

"did [my cousin, uncle steve's son] mike get married?"

"no"

"did uncle steve get married?"

"no." and she filled my arms with laundry.

halfway up the stairs, i paused.

"is uncle steve gay?"

"NO."

i got upstairs and booted up my laptop. he [the laptop] is wireless so it takes a bit longer for him to connect. my mom was so excited that she tried to get me to come to her computer - it's a lovely computer, but dialup makes me nuts. (she had the email open on her desktop after she logged off, but i couldn't be bothered.)

and i read.

i read uncle steve telling my mom and her sister about a lovely young woman, a bit older than i, who's a science teacher in connecticut, who grew up in the area. and as i read, i found out that she is a daughter he never knew existed.

i have a cousin!!

i emailed her immediately, and got back an answer just as quickly. she's wonderful, even though she's more mainstream than i. she's totally worth giving up the status of First Grandchild.

i have told her what i remember about my - our - grandparents. (Grandpa died when i was eight; Grandma died when i was in my late teens.) Judy - that's her - and i have things in common which may be genetic and which may not be, and i don't care because i have a cousin that i like. a lot. i've sent her family photos and, with permission, gave her the passwords to my brother's private web site and to his wedding photos; Judy found pictures of her dad that she didn't have before, and which my brother will, without doubt, get for her.

she reads, she writes. she's got an awesome husband and wonderful kids.

because i got my bipolar crap from the other side of the family, she isn't "blessed" with that genetic curse, at least...

she's more like someone who spent years with our family than another relative who did spend years with the family, and i told her.

my mom, after Uncle Steve, is the big winner in this. my mom gave nieces and a [perfect] nephew but didn't get any in return for a decade and a half when we gained mike and amanda. now, she finds out she's had a niece all this time - and that she's wonderful. (again, though, note that she's far more mainstream than i am!)

if i met Judy socially, i'd adopt her as a sister as i've adopted my friends to become my family of choice. she's that good. genes? who knows... but she's ours.

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.

ea, this is my town,
Hey, Where I was born, where I was raised,
Where I keep all my yesterdays
Where I ran off 'cuz I got mad
And it came to blows with my old man
Where I came back, settled down,
It's where they're puttin' me in the ground
This is my town
Yea, this is my town. My town.
-- Montgomery Gentry, My Town

yesterday was our neighborhood's block party.

the morning had begun with breakfast: my mom, lara, jamie, and me. after stuffing ourselves, and accepting amazing homemade pesto from jamie (made from basil in her yard), my mom and i went to costco. along with a few staples, we got a "sleeve" of large hamburger patties, brownies, and chips.

i napped for about an hour, then washed my car and redid heyboy's litter box. by the time i was done, the party was in full swing, and mona, my amazing massage therapist, had arrived.

this is the letter i sent to the newspaper:

( Read more )not that they'll print it or anything. yeah, it's wordy - but i'm the only person on this block who attended both block parties. my parents weren't home for the 1980s party. in the past twenty-odd years, neighbors have passed away and new neighbors took their places.</p>