I refilled my cup and went out with a bit of hand sewing and Metallica on the Sony Walkman. I wasn't out for fifteen minutes before Michael came up on his two wheel bike, followed by his sister Melissa. I swear, they were there for a good three-four hours; Michael went home for popsicles, and their mother came over when I asked Michael where he picked up some of his new vocabulary (first graders shouldn't be talking about humping) and Melissa thought it was so funny that she called their mom. My stoop is officially open for business!

My left hand is killing me now, probably from holding the fabric steady. I only got about a dozen inches sewn, but it's looking ok. (Yes, Dee, I'll post the finished product.) It seems too small to make it worth pulling out my machine, which isn't set up in a permanent place yet.

Yesterday rocked. My mom and I got our nails filled. I am not sure why Ness finds it so amusing, since I've only had acrylic nails for a few years, but whatever makes my Pam happy... anyway. ahem.

Then it was an Afternoon with Ian and Cindy, going through old photos, gossiping about boys, watching Ian play, having a lovely vegetarian polenta and spinach lunch, and then raiding Cindy's closet for her fat clothes (many of the ones I took are, alas, snug). Ten minutes at Joann's Fabrics waiting for some blue tulle to be cut, and out the door $1.87 later. The only thing that sucked was losing WQUN and, therefore, the Red Sox game!

Sam posted a piercing emergency on Crackbook, so at 9:30pm I was off to the rescue, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen at Walgreens en route. Five seconds in the house turned into an hour and I only left because I was dying without my 10:00pm Lyrica. I didn't see Rich (across the street from Sam)'s car, although there were cars in front of his house, so I just went home and crashed. Being nice to people, even my friends, is EXHAUSTING!

My skin is sticking to itself and freaking me out. Now for a shower, an ice pack for my wrist, and another book.

Our neighbors' oldest (four years old) had gone with his father to Brazil to visit his grandparents, and stayed for an extra week, flying back with them. As I watched from my vantage point, Jonas waved at me and ran into the house. I thought that was odd: he's not afraid of me, and he doesn't miss a chance to scold me for smoking. (I don't smoke around the kids, in general.)

Jonas came running out of the house with his grandfather, and they headed toward my house. No surprise: the kids in that family like to run in this direction (or into the park). I stood up, and the grandfather threw his arms around me and kissed me four times. Neither of us understood the other, but I sure understood the gift of two packages of chocolate, one with a Jewish star, from Brazil.

He and I tried to talk, but my Portuguese dictionary is at the neighbors' house! and he doesn't have very much English. Jonas doesn't know how to translate. Ah well.

He kissed me four times, again, and they walked back home.

With the fibromyalgia, my skin is very sensitive, and I felt the bristles from the old gentleman's face for a few hours.

For an even longer time, though, I feel good. Zilda's parents are happy that she has friends in the neighborhood (including a few Brazilian ladies in the next several blocks). Her mom even told her how pleased they are. I'm a good neighbor, like I am with all of them (except the junkie who rips open our trash), though Zilda and I have a different kind of bond because of our upbringing, because I worked in the hospital where her husband works... because she and I both believe, strongly, in Paying It Forward. (I need my dictionary! because I'm trying to explain Karma.) When she and I spend time together, we don't need to completely understand each other, because we are friends.

My mom pointed out that my sister-in-law [who understands and speaks Portuguese] should spend some time talking with Zilda. Maybe Zilda, a psychologist (working with kids with cancer) in her home country (not yet licensed here), would enjoy speaking to another professional woman.

Her parents obviously wanted to show friendship. (Zilda and I are both chocolate fanatics, although Zilda is nursing and the baby doesn't like it, and I'm trying to only eat Fair Trade.) I felt so damn good, even though I love her for free.

i have so much to say about seeing my kid onstage, but i just don't have ALL the words.  here are some, though...

i was so pumped up that i woke up a few hours later and even could have made it to work if i hadn't taken a vacation day...

some time this week, i'll dump my photos onto my flickr, and will put them onto myspace to tag the band.

_____
* my parents are not Sid's grandparents. as i've posted a few times in the past, the [four] kids' mom was... absent. when i met her, it obviously did NOT go very well; however, she saw how the kids interacted with me - they were still small, with Pin, the oldest, barely in his teens and the youngest, oh, six maybe? - she named me their guardian if anything happened to their dad.

biology, as i've said a million times, isn't the only way to make a family. i just have to remember to tell that to the kids' friends when i meet them. based on the stories, they expect to meet a witch - no offense to real witches - when they meet the kids' mom!

except when i have to explain this, i never think of Pin, Sid, Duz, or Corey as anything but my own.

No. It was the [original] crank shaft and timing belts. (yes, plural - they should have been changed, so I read, at the 96K mark. from what I've googled, it's "main timing belt and a balance shaft belt"). When Dre held the crank shaft, it crumbled between his fingers. The timing belt he showed me was missing so many teeth that I felt like I was in the front row of a Willie Nelson concert. guess it's a good thing that I'm not a big fan of shopping, since the bill for the car (not even including the gratuities - two mechanics, one of whom drove me to work for two days as well as worked on the car, until i got a rental) repair (not including aforementioned rental) was comparable to a month's health insurance. or two weeks' takehome salary.

because jacob was going to be in the shop all weekend, and i needed to go to the doctor, and to pick up prescriptions, I figured that a rental would be cost-effective. i got it friday (my boss let me leave work to get it) and returned it within twenty-four hours. slightly annoying that I went through the trouble, but cheaper than the taxi I would have needed on Friday. (I was out of one prescription as of last Wednesday. My backup was actually in the trunk of the car, since the doctor had given me samples I hadn't remembered to bring into the house.)

It wasn't a great week. Along with my car, my office copier (and then) my office printer broke. However, the second repairman just left, and everything's happy again.

Meanwhile... the pain center in New Haven is closing. I can either go to their Meriden office, which is nearly 25 miles each way, or to the Derby office, which is "only" twelve miles each way. (New Haven is only 4.9 miles from my house, or 4.4 miles from my office.) The extra eight to 21 miles may not seem like a lot to many people, but it's going to mean extra gasoline each month, and extra driving... (which I don't do well when it rains - and with an office closing and a whole practice dumped on two other offices, I may not be able to reschedule appointments based on weather.)

MyRide may be an option; round trip to Derby is less than a gallon of gas. I'm sending my application.

I could look for another doctor - but this one believes me. I was in the waiting room on Friday for over an hour (and they think it will be cost-effective to close one whole office and split the patients between the other two practices??) talking to people whose doctors didn't believe them, whose families call them "lazy," who have to choose between necessary surgeries and being laid up OR dealing with the pain so that they're able to take care of their families. I like my doctor, who absolutely refuses to give me a hug (ethics) and who's constantly keeping up with what new developments will make his patients comfortable. He reminds me a lot of my rheumatologist (except that she will hug me).

Despite the lack of funds [to say the least] and this [major] annoyance with my doctor, I do know I have a lot to be grateful for. On Sunday, I had to go for milk. It was cold and drizzling rain, but I had a car. I saw a mother who had also taken her child to the convenience store; it's got to be an emergency before we'd pay their prices, and I wondered what she needed, and why she couldn't leave the child home where it was warm and dry. I had the money for a pint of the Willie Nelson Peach Cobbler that I wanted (I was willing to go without something else this week, to stay within budget). On the way home, I saw two different elderly men with shopping carts, going through people's recycling and trash for cans to return; I don't need to do that.

Obviously, I'm always grateful for my family, the roof over my head, my friends, my cat, and my laptop. Sunday just gave me a little more.

AND ... my mom may have seen a fawn or two out the window yesterday. Time to charge my camera batteries!!

i'm in this house almost every day, and it's almost always the same... unless my brother comes by. with him, he brings a light to my parents.

yesterday, his wife once again gave up another sunday with her husband, and my brother drove a few hours each way to put together a new table and chair for my father and to install a wifi card on my mother's computer (my brother's birthday gift to my mom) - just in time for her six-year blogaversary.

more than that, though, he gave my parents the gift of his time.

i stayed out of the way, pretty much, because i like being the center of attention and this isn't about me.

my mother and i had done the grocery shopping early because i didn't want her to miss a minute with her boy.

my dad got to watch sunday football with Son, and it's the best thing that can happen to him; he was alert and he laughed, and for a little while it was easy for me to forget what a crochety old man he's become. (he even remembered to thank me when i brought him a small slice of pie!)

my brother generally gets here at least once or twice a month, and it's such a blessing to my parents.

we were supposed to get heavy snow here today; instead, we got a few flakes and some rain... along with the pain in my neck, my back, my shoulders, my right side feels as though it's been badly burned. my skin hurts. (i'm hoping to get in to see mona after work on thursday.) but i'm not nauseated, and i'm feeling good about the light that still hasn't faded from our home.

Currently reading : Girl Clown By Mary R. Wise Release date: 03 March, 2004

mom and i accomplished a lot more than i thought we would, today, considering that yesterday was a bad pain day for me, with the rain, and the pain still hasn't finished winding down. (i'm telling ya, roland and coinneach in the desert are looking like better and better hosts/apartment finding assistants...)

mom's second cataract surgery is monday, so we needed to stock up on groceries. i hate like hell making "an ol' lady," as she sometimes refers to herself, do all the heavy lifting.

we began at staples; the only way i'll find my ethernet cable is to replace it. i also got a blotter-style calendar for work (our catalog has them for about triple the price, though everything else has been cheaper, with this vendor), and a replacement mouse for my desktop. (my wonderful microsoft mouse has lasted through three or four boyfriends, but has been dying mid-session.) we stocked up on staples (no pun intended) at the market, and then came home.

while we were finishing up at the store, my boss called because he needed some blank forms to be signed by clients tomorrow so that they can be fax-filed on Monday. i rode the trike to the office and home: just over two miles, but my legs have been achey since yesterday.

i also finished sholom aleichem's the great fair. mom will enjoy it when her second eye has healed! beyond that, i didn't do much else. i'll have to do laundry tonight, since tomorrow is amee's non-surprise bridal shower and i won't have time. (it's going to be a sunny, low-pain day)

OH: Mona, the amazing massage therapist, now has an office in the West Haven Center. if you want to make an appointment, let me know and i'll give the location and number (i'm not posting them!) - you won't be sorry. i am definitely going after my social security hearing... and, maybe before, because i haven't had a massage since june 23 (that can't be right, can it???) and i'm dying here. that's going to mean that i can list her on my social security expenses, but that they're not going to care (it's not within their time frame). GRR.

incidentally... i need to get into the social security system so i can apply for health insurance assistance. those people don't talk to anyone who's not on social security. i hate that. i also hate that it seems like i'd have an easier time if i were lying. i keep hearing that, as well as that it wouldn't be a bad idea to stop my other non-pain meds and let them see what i'm like. (i just can't do that to my family.)

thom had mentioned rudy's tonight, but he hasn't responded to emails. i hope they have fun.

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.

i took the trike; it was such a GLORIOUS day. a few teenagers made fun of me, a few teenagers thought it was cool, and a few people stopped to ask me more, including a mother of a woman with Down's. i hope that she can get it, if no one else, and that it works out.

i saw a man with a Persian Gulf cap and, as i always do, i offered to shake his hand. (unlike the homeless man to whom i tried to give money on friday, the Veteran wasn't afraid of me!) we talked for a while. he told me about being the only survivor in a jeep that hit a land mine. he told me stuff that i told him was none of my business, but that he wanted me to know because people look down on him. he gets crap for serving in Bush Sr's war. what the HELL - he did his job!? any of us refused to do our jobs, and we'd be screwed; i bet he'd get worse. he's homeless, sleeping in ball fields and eating slugs and bugs. (i know they're a good source of protein, and he's using his survivor skills but, as a vegetarian, i'm bugged by that. he found "bugged" very amusing!) he was eyeing the stinky food stands, and i did have $10, and i told him i'd be honored if he'd allow me to buy him lunch - because of what he did for our country. (i don't know if we NEEDED to be in that war - i was very self-absorbed at the time - but i respect soldiers.) he wouldn't accept. at all. he wasn't offended, but damnit he's a man and can makie his own way... we got to talking about the VA, and he was pissed because of the disability rating he got. (his leg is FUCKED from that jeep explosion.) i explained that he can't get 100% because his spine works, and explained how i know (it's my job to collect medical records, and i read them to make sure i don't need other files. plus, there's my own rating...) he took it better from me than from the doctor, i'll tell you... he hit the doctor. he went back to the jeep accident, and walked away. he came back long enough to say that he couldn't talk anymore. (he couldn't. period. i was surprised he came back.) he will haunt me. i will assume he wasn't scamming me, since he didn't take my money, and i have to wonder how often women stop him to talk (even if we're not on tricycles). that truly sucks. i wish better for him. he's only the second homeless vet i've met since i began my crusade of shaking their hands, which i guess is a good ratio... but he's a man, not a statistic.

on the way home, after getting air in the tires (and having to tip because i couldn't hold the gauge), i ran into shelly, bringing lily and dahlia to the apple fest. for those who know the couple: shelly's phish's wife - phish, the former piercer, now bail bondsman. i like her a lot and would like to hang out with her again. so many of my friends don't live nearby. and those who do... there aren't a lot of women around HERE with tattoos, and the only reason i'd stand out next to her is that hers are better. she's a nice lady... anyway, the kids look GORGEOUS.

today, i had a nuclear bone scan. i'm not radioactive anymore :) and wonder if THIS test will have a diagnosis for me?