My online whine: Blogger just ate my post inviting y'all to whine.
Whine: Last week was lousy in the crying until you cant breathe way. I had to put together a job packet in a week, the dog's spider bite wasn't healing, and it was all Just Too Heavy.
Anti-whine: I ran away from home for the weekend, and spent it with my parents and the ocean. It was planned, yes (they mostly live thousands and thousands of miles away), but the timing could not have been better. Time with people I love is such a gift.
A silly whine: something has gone screwy with the lights in my bathroom, so they randomly turn off. You can get them back if you wiggle the switch, but I cant reach it from the shower, so I end up washing my hair in the dark more often than not.
Anti-whine: I have a birthday on Friday, and I like birthdays. I really like cake, and am pleased that my boyfriend will be coming for the weekend.
Whine: I think this means I have to clean.
Best anti-whine: The dog's lingering wound from the Brown Recluse Spider Encounter (six weeks ago, not that I am counting) seems to have closed.
How about you, Pixies? Are things heavy or light right now? What's taking up space in your brain?
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33 comments:
happy birthday, redzils!! and hooray for a weekend away, your dog's recovery, and woo hoo, a birthday weekend!
Happy Birthday!
Anti-whine: SQUEEEE!!!! I might get to meet the coolest presidential candidate on the planet! Or at least stand near him.
WOOT!
antiwhine: making good progress on a thorny, ugly work project. "HA! to your thorns, ugly work project!"
whine: huge, wake-in-the-night anxiety about another project.
antiwhines: daughter had a fabulous road trip with her marching band! son came over for a nice visit!
whine of the week, waiting for the next shoe to drop edition: my SIL from hell got fired. the last straw was a screaming voice-mail she left for her boss, after being counselled about her workplace behavior. which included screaming that her young son was a "fucking moron" for not "protecting" her during the divorce.
predictably, her next move was to harass her brother [my beloved] to fix it -- then to blame him for "never helping" her.
can i hear a second to my "OY!!"?
yay, liz!
Oy! for kathy a.
Yay! for liz.
Hip-hip-hooray! for redzils' multiple antiwhines.
Anti-whine: My Love got some good news at work. It isn't the ultimate Big News for an Academic that he will hopefully get in May or so, but a negative at this point would have been a really bad sign. So Yay! for good news.
Whine: Cold, windy.
Anti-whine: Ravioli shaped like bats. And they taste good, too. With homemade pesto. Mmmm.
Whine: After eating leftover bat ravioli, I will walk to the post office in teh cold and wind.
Anti-whine: To mail our absentee ballots! Love democracy blah blah blah! Candidate I am happy to vote for blah blah blah!
Whine: Minus 2 tonight (Celcius).
Oy to kathy a. Yikes. And Happy Birthday to Redzils.
Whine: there is a mouse in our garage. Whine on top of the whine: for some reason, in our marriage, it is *my* job to dispose of all creatures, be they insects or spiders or snakes (yes, really) or, now, mouse. (I'm living in denial that there might be more than one mouse, so just let me have my fantasy here). First plan was to borrow the neighbor's cat last night. He was found cowering under the car this morning, no evidence of mouse, dead or alive. The mouse, he/she is giving me the heebie jeebies every time I go out in the garage.
Additional whine on top of that: I think the rest of the family is beginning to think that I hallucinated said mouse. I assure you, I did not. And I'm still hoping it was a mouse and not a larger rodent cousin. Eek.
Antiwhine: have been reading my journal from last October's adventure in the NICU, and am feeling mighty blessed to have only a mouse to whine about. No canulas, feeding tubes, incubators, or weird hospital policies. Yippee!
Oy to the Vay
For Kathy A
Esperanza...would you like to borrow MY cats? They are killers. Mice don't have a chance.
HUGE WHINE ALERT: Daughters BFF's father is a coke head and beats the crap out of her. He beat her up on Friday, she ran away and we know where she is. Cops called me last night and I refused to tell him where she is or if she was at our house because her father will just beat her up again. But in actuality she has been with me most of Sunday and yesterday. I talked her into getting a restraining order against him, she talked to a teacher at school who promised to take her today, BFF shows up at school and her crazy father stalked her, caught her in the hallway, slammed her into a wall and broke her arm. In front of kids and teachers. NICE!
But...we don't know what has happened to her. Everyone is terribly worried.
AntiWhine: Daugher was asked to be a hair model for a famous stylist. She was colored on Sunday, cut on Monday. You can see the hole process on my blog. The cut is FABULOUS. GORGEOUS.
Whine: Daughter feeling haircut remorse and cried hysterially this morning. Said she was going to hide in bathroom whole day. I talked her down and took her to school but she's not home so I don't know how it went.
Whine: We are so out of food it's not funny. Literally nothing to eat. And we don't get money for 2 weeks. I HATE BEING POOR. I didn't shop at all this month because I had no money. So we're kinda screwed.
Teeny whine: Chapped lips. Cursed. Hate them. All freaking winter I deal with split bleeding lips. Yes, I use Burts Bees chapstick. And vaseline at night. Nothing helps.
Anti-whine: Baby is almost fully recovered from his cold! Just a lingering cough.
Whine: It's the same lingering cough that Husband and I still have. As of tomorrow, I will have been sick for three weeks. Three! My rib cage aches from coughing.
Whinier whine: And now it looks like the Other Baby is getting The Cold of Doom. She's producing prodigious amounts of eye boogers, less prodigious but still impressive amounts of nose boogers, and has started coughing. Worst of all is the little sad face. Even tickling produces only a slight, halfhearted smile, like she's trying really hard to please us but just doesn't feel up to it.
Whiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Also: Happy birthday, Redzils! And Oy Vey, Kathy A! And eek! Margalit!
Happy Birthday, Redzils! Glad to hear your puppy is healing.
Kathy, Oy. I can think of no more to say about your loony tune SIL.
Madeleine, great news! Can't wait to hear the Big Announcement next spring. :)
Esperanza EEP! I hates the rodents so. I will loan my kitty to you and she will dispose of said pest. I don't want to know much more though.
Alright Pixies, I've felt too whine to whine for quite sometime. Tonight, I am breaking my whiny fast to announce that my foot is healing nicely. So nicely, in fact, that I have one of those boot things. The boot means I will be able to hobble around Chicago when I go there tomorrow and Thursday on business. Since the last time I was there, I was in a wheelchair, this is the most incredibly, wonderfully welcome news I could possibly receive.
To celebrate, I washed my own laundry and cooked a healthy dinner with nary a speck of preprocessed anything. I wept with joy.
Liz, I am so stoked that you get to meet the awesomest presidential candidate. My one regret is that I didn't get to go to any of rallies because of the whole bum foot situation.
madeleine, wonderful news! and i'm kind of jealous of bat ravioli.
esperanza, the sweet baboo has come such a long way! glad the mouse is in the garage instead of elsewhere, and i hope it scurries back to someplace else soon.
margalit, that is a scary situation, but i'm glad the police are involved now. hopefully your young friend is in a safe place, and her nightmare of a father is good and locked up.
uccellina, so sorry about the cold of doom. there is nothing as sad as a sick baby. :(
miranda, things are bad indeed when they are too bad to whine about. glad the foot is healing!
Happy B-Day redzils!
No time to whine - our move is a complete mess and so am I. The elevator did not pass inspection yesterday, so we have yet another night in the Bates Motel.
The cats are going insane and so am I.
I have a wedding on Saturday. Yay.
What the fireplace was I fireplacing thinking??? Going back to work and moving all in the same two weeks. I'm a mess. I'm a huge huge train=wreck of a mess.
No internets at the Bates. I've stopped in at the office just for a break. Looks like the movers are taking our stuff into the condo by walking it up four flights of stairs. This is good, but my hubby can't get in there until the elevator works.
And we have to tip the moving guys $50 a piece for walking it all up the stairs. Doesn't seem like enough if you ask me...
I'm NEVER moving again. Never.
Back to the Bates to see what's going on.
Peace out pixies and wish me good moving vibes and strong young backs to carry all of our stuff.
le sigh.
Wednesday update: second night of useless borrowed kitty. No dead mouse. Hopefully it got disgusted with the useless kitty and went elsewhere. Like to the neighbor's house.
Uccellina, so sorry the Other Baby didn't develop the Immune System of Steel. Hope she's better soon, and the rest of you too.
Sue, you were whining at the same time I was. Moving is awful, awful, awful. You'll be in the new place soon enough, and we'll send virtual margaritas or tranquilizers or something in the meantime. Moving. Blech.
Whine: I have had to rearrange a much-anticipated and looked-for weekend with my old friend at the last minute.
Whine: I had to do this because I have a family funeral to go to instead.
Whine: My wonderful uncle died.
Whine: Cancer stinks
Antiwhine: He lived 10 YEARS longer than the doctors gave him at first... and boy, did he carpe those diems.
Antiwhine: Northwest let me rebook my tickets without penalty.
Antiwhine: Work, husband, and airline all agreed I could extend the trip and still visit friend.
Whine: Longest time away from kids ever so far in any of our lives.
Antiwhine: Chance for husband to see what its like when he gallivants off to Japan on business for weeks at a time.
oh, sue. sending good move vibes. kind of outrageous about the elevator! and sympathies on the bates motel of no 'net access, sheesh.
esperanza, i heard somewhere that the smell of cats will keep mice away. so maybe that's working, even if your hired help isn't a mouser?
(((( sara )))) so sorry about your uncle. cancer sucks. glad your wonderful uncle lived his time well despite it. xoxoxo
Happy Birthday to Redzils!
Liz gets to meet the candidate -- see if you can get him to dance like on "Ellen." :)
kathy a., unfortunately, I know SEVERAL people like your s-i-l, and they have no clue that the world has other people in it. Especially if it doesn't somehow benefit them.
Madeleine -- great news! We'll keep the pixie pinkies crossed for hubby's continued good luck!
Esperanza, I think we're living parallel lives! There was something scritching about in the ceiling of our bedroom last night. I can only pray it was something as innocuous as a cold squirrel. Anything other than that, I don't really want to know about.
Margalit -- you said teachers and other students witnessed the breaking of her arm? That ought to be enough to get her out of the household, and to get the cops off the back of anyone who happens to help her out. Talk to the school administrators about the situation, and see if they can take steps to help her get emancipated, or at least get the dad out of her life. Let us know if she's okay, please. Also, I'm very sorry about the broke-ness. I feel your pain. It's going to be a LONG time until payday for us as well. And, for chapped lips, my go-to remedy is Vapo-Rub. It burns like hell the first time you use it as chapstick, but I never have a problem with chapped lips anymore.
Uccellina -- sorry about the Cold Of Doom that is taking over your household. I prescribe copious amounts of chicken soup. :)
Hooray to Miranda's healing foot! It took so long for mine to heal that I thought I'd never walk correctly again! Hope you heal faster than I do. :)
Sue -- this moving thing has been a nightmare for you! Hopefully, it will be your last move, and you'll never have to do it again! I would also bill the condo company for the late and failed-inspection elevator, and use the money to repay what you've had to shell out to the movers.
Sara -- I'm so sorry. And you're right: cancer stinks.
My best friend's father suffered a major stroke and passed away on my birthday. I'm not in good standing with BFF's family because I don't put up with their bullshit (and they don't like me because I know all their dirty little secrets), so the visitation was not exactly the most comfortable 2 hours I've ever spent in my life. But, I went for BFF and her kids, not the others.
My student who is trying to kill me is not any better, and the parents are doing exactly squat about it. Said student has now been suspended twice and the situation doesn't look like it will come to a close any time soon.
My parents got back safely from England, even though the plane was delayed on the tarmac for over an hour while a young autistic woman screamed and then locked herself in the bathroom. (Now, I'm not in any way criticizing autistics or poking fun of autism, but the youg lady's parents were useless. Mom said they wanted the flight attendants to force pills down her throat to calm her down, and got mad when the FA refused. Then, when they got her out of the bathroom, she had defecated all over everything, and they made the FAs clean her up and pull her pants up. Useless, I tell you. This young woman needs parents that are going to HELP her, not stand idly by and watch her!)
The fight crew eventually had to have her removed from the flight because she was too agitated for them to take off. Once in the air, another woman had self-medicated herself, and was having hallucinations. She kept saying her children were in first class, and there WERE no kids in FC, nor did this woman even have kids. The flight was detoured to Detroit and they were stuck for HOURS, having missed all connecting flights.
They finally got back to the Eastern Seaboard in one piece, and managed not to collapse into quivering piles of jell-o when they got home, but only just.
Nothing I could whine this week could top that, so I'm not even going to try.
Happy birthday, Redzils!
Whine/antiwhine #1:
I am, I think, making progress on the Finding a Doctor front. I also have an appointment set up with one of the premier fibromyalgia specialists in this part of the country next month. He's not taking new patients as a PCP, but he will at least give me a consultation.
Unfortunately, said consultation is the week AFTER I have to decide whether or not I want to commit to being part of investigational study for an experimental new FMS medication.
Whine/antiwhine #2:
I've been invited to participate in a study for a new FMS medication that is otherwise nearly impossible to get (unless you happen to suffer from combined narcolepsy/catalepsy). It starts with an X, followed by y r e m.
The medication shows a lot of promise, and the preliminary studies seem to have gotten very good results in FMS patients. (I'm going into the details of why in a post I'm writing for my own blog, but won't bore you with them here.)
However, it's potentially a highly addictive drug with some potentially scary side effects. Which might be worth it if it works as well as they think and I can avoid the side effects.
But I most likely won't be able to continue getting it after the trial, because it's a class III federally-controlled substance that's not yet approved for treating FMS. Which means potentially going through really awful withdrawl at the end of the trial, and then being right back to where I am now.
If I do partitipate in the trial, I'll be able to say that I've tried a substance commonly used as an illegal/recreational drug once in my life. Thankfully, my DH isn't the type to mix it into my drink and then take advantage of me. :)
There's actually another trial I could take part in if I decided not to do the X trial, for an SNRI-type med. So that's another big variable in the decision--whether to be in one of the trials at all, and then which one to participate in.
I hate making decisions like this--I'm hoping I can find a good doctor before I actually have to make the decision, to help me decide whether to take part in one of the trials or not.
Vote for Margalit and the BFF--I'm sure the pixies would all like to get their hands on that man (the word father doesn't really seem to apply here--ugh).
Margalit, I forget if you live on this side of the country or not. If you did live near me, I'd offer you some beef--we need to make space in our freezer for the new one being butchered this month, and we haven't used up last year's yet.
PK, those are some really hard decisions. Did you plead with Consulting Doctor to fit you in before the trial decision deadline? Good luck.
Anti-whine: SQUEEE! OMG! SQUEEEEEEEE!
Anti-whine: my friend who was standing next to me got a hand-shake and her book autographed!
PK, call the consulting doc and tell him that you have a chance to be in this study and can he please please please please consult with you before the deadline please?
KLee, hugs to your parents. I didn't actually get to meet the candidate, but I must say that as presidential as he looks on tv, he is even better-looking in person.
Margalit, I hope that your daughter's friend is able to get her crazy father out of her life. Witnesses to an assault like that should go a long way. And I'm sorry about your horrific money issues.
Many worthy whines and antiwhines here. Too many for me to comment on appropriately, so I'll just suggest to esperanza that the cheapo mousetraps at the hardware store work pretty well. Bait them with peanut butter. (And you should listen to the start of the This American Life from last week about Build a Better Mousetrap...)
Spent today trying to find out how we could become temporary guardians of BFF so we can get her out of residential treatment and back to school. It's VERY complicated, but it entails going to court (always fun) and not only applying for foster parent status and then being approved, but also getting a permanent restraining order against both her "parents" to ensure that she'll be safe, and then getting school to cooperate, which as we know, is near impossible.
But it's worth a try.
Lips are STILL horribly chapped. It's such a small annoyance but with my sensory issues, it drives me INSANE.
PK, I live in Boston. And call the consulting DR. They're doing a fibromyalgia trial at MGH and are looking for subjects. I wonder if it's the same trial.
Klee wins the worst flight story ever award hands down.
And oh, did I mention our furnace bit the dust sometime in the last two days. They're coming at noon to fix it (hopefully). In the meantime, we're sleeping in polar fleece.
Thanks, all. I will try calling the consulting Dr. and telling them the situation. But they're already stretching their rules by letting me refer myself without a PCP involved, after I told them what my PCP was like.
I do have a recommendation, however, for a physician's assistant who is supposed to be good with FMS. Who is not taking new patients, either. But who, believe it or not, is in the SAME practice as my current PCP. Which means I'm considered an already-existing patient in the practice, so I can just call up and make an appointment with him whenever I want. Which I will probably do tomorrow.
Margalit, it may be the same study. This study (well, actually, both of these studies) are pretty large pharmaceutical studies that tons of research centers are participating in all over the place. But then, there are lots of other FMS studies going on too. Thankfully, there is more and more research happening with this and similar conditions.
Now I'm going to go back to attempting to sleep, and try not to lie in bed wishing I had someting to knock me out NOW and letting that cloud my rational consideration of whether or not to be in the trial for something that could do exactly that.
Oh, and Margalit I'm not anywhere near Boston, unfortunately. And our furnace bit the dust this week too. We were able to have ours fixed today; I hope yours can be repaired soon.
And another vote for Klee's horrible awful flight story.
Thanks, elizabeth. I'll go check out the This American Life clip...I was going to go to the hardware store today for the cheapo mouse traps. And is it ok if I then just throw them away, trap, mouse and all? Will anyone revoke my recycling card? Because I don't think I can touch the dead mouse (or a live one, for that matter). I'm usually not so squeamish, but this mouse has really made me squirm. And he/she is definitely still around--I caught a glimpse yesterday, after letting rent-a-kitty out.
Esperanza: Yes, you can just throw the whole trap away mouse and all. And I second the recommendation to use peanut butter as bait.
If you can find the hole the mouse is coming in through, put the trap near that--otherwise just put it somewhere near where you've seen the mouse, but where nobody is likely to step on it. They like to run along walls.
Geez, it's been a roller coaster this week, but there is more Good News on the academic front.
The euphoria from the previously-mentioned Good News lasted about 18 hours, and then My Love made a minor faux pas to do with teh BIG Good News application process.* So there were a few rounds of hanging his head and calling me all sad and dejected.
Finally, he went to talk to his mentor to see if he needed to do anything about this faux pas, and Mentor said this:
"Junior academic people always think their chance of getting teh Big Good News is less than it is. They think it is 50/50 but it's really more like 95%."
95%!!!! Now, obviously this varies greatly by location and department. Fancy Pants University certainly doesn't play that way. But! 95%!
My Love tried to be all "Still, I can't be sure" and I was all "Come. On. You'd have to have terrible teaching reviews AND be rude to the chair." And he's like "but, but" and I'm like "Dude, would you rate yourself in the bottom 5% of all junior people in the department? Not."
So, all in all a roller coaster. But I think we got off at the top, which sounds like a terrible idea and makes me wonder if I've chosen the right metaphor here.
Which leaves only Snuggly Girl's orthodontics to whine about from now on.
*For those of you in academia, he emailed the people he is listing as reference-letter writers to say he was listing them. Apparently he isn't supposed to. The horror!
Anti-whine: Occupancy certificate from the city today. People can now live in the building.
Whine: NO elevator yet. Fireplace.
Anti-whine: We have strong friends who will carry hubby up four flights of stairs tomorrow and get us out of the Bates Motel.
Whine: No elevator means no appliances.
Anti-whine: The place is beautiful, even with dust everywhere.
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