There should be a way to gauge your anxiety and stress levels by the result of your visit with the doctor.
If you leave with a pat on the back and a “chin up, you’re going to be fine”, the you could assume that you are on the low end. Being committed puts you at the top end.
Walking out with a prescription for Ativan called into your pharmacy? I’d say that ranks pretty high.
She also seemed a tad troubled that the reflex-tap to my knees produced no results, even when I did the hand-pull thing to distract my brain. I wonder what that means. I wasn’t intentionally holding my leg still, it just wouldn’t kick. Weird.
Anyway, new doctor. She’s very nice, she listens and all that, pays attention, gives advice. Of course I had to pick a doctor on the other side of town, but really, it’s not about convenience when it comes to your GP, you have to be sure that you’ve got at least one person looking out for you (and I’m lucky, I have many people looking out for me).
Today, I made a $46 retard mistake. Was getting dressed, going to wear my Nebraska Cornhuskers/Spongebob t-shirt with my black hoodie. I was warm this morning (as I often am in the mornings, i’m like a little furnace), so I laid out my hoodie next to my coat so I would put it on as I left. When I got to work I took off my coat and realized that I forgot my hoodie. Crap. I can’t just wear a t-shirt to work, so I bundled off to the college book store and bought an MCAD sweatshirt. $46. What the hell? I suck.

I taught myself how to do a crochet cable ‘knit’. ow. The instructions I had were not so clear AND I’m improvising a portion of a pattern for a baby blanket to turn into a scarf. If it works out, I might give it to my boss for his baby boy. We’ll see. It’s rather involved and you can’t just whip these stitches out while watching a movie. Dang. And it’s not like it’s one stitch you learn but two new stitches and 4 techniques and they get all mixed and matched depending on where you’re at in the row.
Hopefully, once I get used to it I can get it going so I can get it done before the end of next week.
That’s all, my brain is broken.
y’all better step off, i’m the roflpimp!

These are some of my guilty pleasures, vomited out here for your mockery
* Vin Diesel
* Counting Crows
* Alannis Morrisette
* Instant Pudding
* Cheet-ohs
* Fried Green Tomatoes
* **censored**
Mock away, but let me tell you, there is no better cheese-laden unguent for the soul than belting out “Around Here” at the top of your lungs during rush hour.
In other news…
Started and finished Ms Dena’s scarf tonight. Got to have pizza but only if I agreed to eat vegetables (fiiiiine god!), I should probably make a scarf for me.
It’s time for this bubbo to get to bed…let’s hope a certain chobo feels the same way…

I was reading my book in bed the other night, as I do most nights, and it struck me what a gift it is to be able to read. The very act of viewing symbols and divining from that all manner of information. Look at one set of symbols and gain the knowledge of how to make a souffle, another set will completely cut off the present world and fill your head with visions of Gods re-enacting the Trojan War on Mars, another set will make you laugh.
This act of reading and disseminating information is actually pretty amazing when you think about it.
I remember the day I realized I could read. It was late afternoon, I was 4, in Head Start (I love Head Start, without it I would have been at such a disadvantage once school started. It’s a program beset with problems but for me it worked). I was in the car and we came to a stop and I looked at the stop sign and I read the word and I knew what it meant, not because it was on the stop sign, but because I knew the letters and I could make the sounds and the sounds made a word and my head was full of fireworks.
I’d broken the code. I looked around, saw another word, i could read it! and another! and another! all these words that I could look at and read and know what they said. It was amazing to me.
I knew that I had not been able to do this the day before. i was very aware of this and because of this revelation I spent years thinking that certain skills just turned on in your head at a certain age. Imagine my frustration in 3rd grade when I could not figure out division AND it seemed that skill would not turn on for me (and it seems it never will).
From that day on I read, not voraciously at first, I read my Dr Seuss or Little Golden Books, I read signs on the street, I read cereal boxes and TV guide and Pebto-Bismal bottles (slowly of course, I was only 4).
And today I read about geishas and space ships and haunted houses and personal problems and souffle recipes and political discourse and gossip and explosions and disasters and miracles and babies and busses and cookies and moons and hippos and islands and and and and
And every word feels like a gift.

I am so totally rocking the old lady thing (i don’t have blue hair anymore, but I can make that happen). I drive my old lady car, I’m wearing a t-shirt with a picture of two baby white tigers and today….I made the final leap…
We slept late and went to ‘breakfast’ late. How late? Late enough to get to Baker’s Square (total old lady hang out) early enough to catch the Early Bird Dinner Specials with the folks. Then I did it, I ordered the ‘All you can eat fish fry’, not because I wanted to eat a lot of fish, but because (and I shit you not) I figured even if I didn’t eat a lot of fish, $5.99 was a good deal.
Then I ordered pie to take home (banana cream, could be the king of pies since strawberry is only available seasonally).
I finished up the evening crocheting scarves with the dog napping on the skein of yarn.
Old lady, i’m tellin’ ya.
I have now completed 6 scarves, all different colors, pretty much the same pattern. I made up a pattern in my head for another one and hopefully that one will turn out nicely. I also need to talk to Levi concerning the color scheme of Ms Dena’s scarf. I’m only working with yarn that I already have, so I have to be creative, sometimes combining colors if i don’t have enough of one for a scarf.
Hmmm….anything else? Happy Hour with the girls from the office (did that sound old lady enough?) on Friday. Cleaning, chilling, eating pre-packaged pierogie (pirohy?) with tamarind chutney, drinking too much coffee, so much my jaw aches, staying up too late, sleeping too late, you know…the stuff I always do.
Owen, email me, I need to coordinate bouillabaisse dinner plans!