I love this!

Ever see something and know immediately you had to have it? I was clicking around and found a blog called It's The Little Things. I fell in love with this necklace the moment I saw it and ordered one right away. You ever order something and when it comes in the mail - it's even better than you expected? I did! I love this necklace! I know gushing like this makes this sound like a sponsored post or some such thing but it's not. I simply bought something from jewelry designer Lisa Leonard, and I am that pleased so I thought I would pass it on. Especially since there are so many Mom bloggers out there, although you can put anyones names on these tags that you'd like to! Here's some pics of mine, but if you go to her blog she photographs her jewelry much better than I do (with no cat hair), and you can read about her husband and 2 beautiful boys as well.





I really should have asked for this for Christmas, but I just couldn't wait that long!

Oh Lord. Now everybody knows.

Oh. my.

You're Lolita!

by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn't the best and you're not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you've done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

YIKES!

My apologies

For those who may have tried to access my blog yesterday and today, I am sorry. I'm sorry I am so obsessive, impatient, and foolhardy! I have been working on a new header, I wanted it to be something completely different. When it was finished, on my living room floor no less, I took 4 pictures of it and spliced them together with Paint, and uploaded it to photo bucket. Suffice it to say that in trying to remove the other header, I screwed things up.

Thank you thank you thank you to Stavanger from Blogcrowds who saved my blogging butt before when I had trouble getting a 3-column template, when I needed more room in my sidebars and lost a whole side in Internet Explorer, or was it Firefox? He has saved me or given me advice more than a few times now, and I will forever be grateful! This time - I could not even access my blog much less put a new header on it.

I hope you like the new header, the cats around here certainly do!


Jakie and her chubby self enjoying something new on the carpet to lay on. Luckily I had removed the loose beads by this time.


Abby helped me remove the loose beads I had laying on the header. Nice Abby. She's always so helpful like that.
*********
Oh, and in keeping with my tell-all TMI personality, I had my second "special views" mammogram yesterday and waited while the radiologist read the x-ray. The lovely tech who fondled me so gently this time as well as last, came out and told me the doctor said he would like me to come back for an ultrasound. I think tears must have sprung from nowhere, or I lost all color or some other sign of shock because this nice lady was suddenly concerned, almost alarmed, asking if I was okay. "Yes, I'm fine. I have a headache and I have to go to the bank and then get my emissions checked..." What???? I guess I was shocked. But she said "The radiologist knows abnormal when he sees it, and this isn't it. Still - he needs a better view because it is something that wasn't there before." So, now another test. And I wait.

I am so disturbed

I had an experience at a doctor's office recently, unlike any I've ever had before. I actually canceled a second appointment with this doctor because I kept thinking about the first visit in a way that was becoming freakishly nightmarish in my mind. I want this doctor to know why I am not coming back, but I do not want to have a dialog with him about the way the exam was conducted, etc. It is done, I was terribly uncomfortable, and hearing an explanation from that man cannot change that. He has a website with an email address, I plan to email him the link to my blog so he can read just how disturbed I was and am by the whole experience.

Dr. X is a dermatologist. He has a good sized practice as far as I can tell, I know a couple of people who are patients of his. They are okay with him. I made an appointment to have my moles checked. I have always heard that if you have moles it is a good idea to have them checked every now and then, especially if there have been changes to any of them. I haven't had a mole looked at since I was 18 years old and had two removed for purely cosmetic reasons. I figured it would be a good idea seeing as that was 30 years ago, and in the place of one of those moles that was removed I have sprouted a veritable mine-freakin'-field of baby moles. Teeny little things that make me feel a bit creeped out when I run my fingers across that patch of skin. They aren't black or growing that I know of, but is it normal to sprout 25-plus baby moles where you had one removed? Thirty years later? I didn't know the answer to that. I thought it reasonable to check. I also have a few others, one on my arm, two on my chest, that have little black dots, nothing major but still, not a bad thing to have them checked.

The office is well run, pleasant, the gal at the desk was very friendly and nice. I was called in almost right away which I thought was a good thing. The nurse (I assume) came in and asked me a few questions, why was I there, etc. The doctor came in shortly after the nurse left. Now I need to say that I don't recall if the nurse asked me where these moles were that I wanted checked, but regardless, I was not given a gown or paper clothes, or anything like that. Dr X came in, very tall fellow he is, and shook my hand. I was sitting in a regular chair, he rested against the exam table which meant he was fairly towering above me. He asked me a couple of questions, I told him I had moles I wanted looked at, thought it was a good idea, and oh - I have these brown patches on my face. He opened the door and called someone - "Foofie will you come help me please?" Help him with what? And who is Foofie? Foofie came in, a lady in a lab coat so I figure she's a nurse or assistant of some sort. Almost as soon as she closed the door, it opened again and another girl came in, younger, also wearing a lab coat. No one mentioned her name or why she was there. Now there were four of us in this small exam room. I was the only one sitting.

Dr X looked at my face for a second and pronounced it to be melasma. I was expecting that, asked what was the best treatment. He settled back against the exam table again and looking down at me he said "The thing that works best for that is a peel." I imagine he would have told me more about it but I told him I didn't want a peel. He told me he could give me some cream but it would take longer. "I am patient" I told him. He asked the younger girl to get some samples "out of the closet" and she left for a minute. Next he asked where the moles were. At this point I was starting to feel a bit unnerved. I suppose I was expecting to be asked where the moles were, and to be given a gown or something to change into. I figured the doctor would come in, look me over, examining any moles he saw, looking at them closely and making notes on some piece of paper with the outline of the human body on it.

That is nowhere close to what he did. He motioned for me to stand up and asked me to turn around. I said "I don't have any moles on my back" but he motioned for me to lift up my shirt. The second girl came back in at this point, as I was lifting my shirt up so the Dr could look at my back. He said something about seeing a bit of an acne rash so I said yeah, I do break out on my back sometimes. He did not suggest anything to do about it. I pulled my shirt down and he turned me around and looked at me as if to say "what's next?" I wanted to scream at him that HE was the doctor, he was supposed to conduct the exam, I wasn't supposed to tell him how to do it! He motioned for me to lift up my shirt again. This time in the front. The door knob rattled like someone else trying to come in so I called out "c'mon in! Everybody else is already here!" The rattling stopped.

Now I don't know about anybody else but I am not fond of standing up wearing jeans that show my belly fat nicely squeezing over the waistband, lifting my shirt to show that, as well as my bra that has obviously seen better days and is barely containing the overgrown boobs I've got these days. It was demeaning, uncomfortable and I just didn't get it. What kind of exam was this? I'd point to a mole and he would say mm-m-m in an almost disinterested way. He would lean forward a bit, but he did not look very closely, nor did he touch them or me. Then he would ask if there were any more. ??? I was so disconcerted by standing there with my "Where the Wild Things Are" tee shirt hiked up to my neck in front of this doctor who seemed to be exuding the attitude of "why are you here?" or something, and two women who were never introduced to me nor was it explained to me why they were even in the room, that I entirely forgot to tell him about one of the moles. If he had done a proper exam he would have seen it because it was quite close to the others except that the way I was holding my shirt up, the material would have been blocking that particular mole.

Never once did he say "oh that one looks fine" or "this one has a little discoloration but nothing to worry about". All he said was mm-m-m. And he might as well have said - next! Show me your next boring run-of-the-mill mole. At the last minute I remembered and told him (embarrassingly enough) that I had dry patches on my nipples that my primary physician had given me a cream for it, but he had never looked at them. Dr X just looked at me and nodded. Apparently nobody wants to look at my nipples! Fine! You might like my nipples but you'll never get the chance now!!!!

I showed him the minefield of baby moles on my chest and he just nodded again and said mm-m-m. When I looked at him incredulously and said something entirely lame like "but they feel awful" he said "well, we could laser them off I suppose.." An obviously unnecessary procedure, he was saying. I should mention here that I am not sure he said "laser" them off, I was mortified by then so he could have said jackhammer or sandpaper for all I know. I just know he was humoring me.

At some point I realized that one of the gals in the room had handed me two small tubes for my face so I held out my hand and showed them to the ladies and asked about them. "Are there instructions?" They were samples so I knew they didn't come with an insert or anything. My question was met with silence, surprise even, and I had to explain. "I mean, once a day? Twice? Wear under makeup, or only at bedtime?" "Oh! Yes, bedtime would be good." That said by the younger of the two. Uh okay, fine. I wasn't sure if she was really certain but nobody disputed her answer so I let it go.

In the end I felt like I needed to feel there was actually a purpose to my visit so I asked how hard it would be to have this mole here by my nose removed? It's a flesh colored mole, I have had it most of my life and I do hate it - but I hadn't been planning on having it removed any time soon. I ended up making an appointment to have just that, done.

Before I left at the point Dr X determined the "exam" was over, he leaned back against the exam table I never even touched, again. And he asked "So would you like to come to the library to hear .............................?" It was a talk he was giving on cosmetic, non surgical options to reduce the effects of aging. Uh no. Thanks. I said "hey, I'm gonna get old, we're all going to get old. I'll deal with it." He laughed and said "sounds like you protest too much to me." So, was that a joke? If he must know - if I had the money I would have a tummy tuck, a boob lift, a face lift and have my eyes done. But I don't have the money and never will so I don't dwell on it. And I did not go to see this doctor for cosmetic reasons. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do to maintain my health.

I felt like an ass. I don't know if Dr X doesn't do too much old fashioned dermatology anymore, maybe he is more into the cosmetic end of it now, I don't know. But the visit was not what I expected, it was less than thorough and unprofessional. I doubt that Dr X realized he was giving me that impression but as an old boss of mine used to say "perception is reality." And my perception was that it was a careless exam and a waste of my time. I can embarrass myself on my own time without paying someone to do it for me, thank you very much.

I canceled that second appointment, I won't be going back.

****

I know my header is still skewed, I am working on a new one and I am afraid I'll just screw things up if I remove this one without one to replace it. I have been working on this major art project and it's been taking all of my time lately, but hopefully I will manage to get a new header up there in the next couple of days. Maybe a picture of me holding my "Where the Wild Things Are" tee up to my neck? Nah. Been there done that. Argh-h-h.

Not done yet ...

Okay, I have more of the header there but it isn't centered or stretched the way I need it - and I'm still not sure if I'll keep it!
Stavanger from Blogcrowds has been helping me because I really have no idea about HTML. Still - I think it's almost there. :)

S'cuse me?

Don't ya love my new header??? I made it myself and I am SO excited and proud!! Please comment, let me know what you think!!!
This is where you lie to make me feel good. Actually that is not the image I want at the top of my blog, but I am going to leave it there for a day or three until I am able to get some help with it. So, no need to lie, let's just say my header is under construction and I appreciate your patience. :) And your silence. *snort*

Pick on somebody your own size!

I confess I am the worst at listening to my messages. Gone are the days when I would look at the answering machine when I came home, hoping for the blinking light. Gone are the days when I saw that red light on my work phone and immediately picked it up to call my voice mail. I listen, but I must admit it is rarely in a timely manner.

So listening to yesterdays messages at work - today, I found out my doctor's office called, asking me to call them back. Ah, the results of the mammogram. So I call. It is doubtful that anything is wrong but the hospital says they need some better views of the right side. Probably just need a clearer picture, we will drop the order in the mail and you will have it by tomorrow most likely.

Coming home I see the red light blinking on the answering machine and this time it is the hospital, a woman from THE BREAST CENTER (all in caps of course) who really sounds like she has horrible news, asking me to call back during regular business hours. Not the reassuring voice of someone I would pick to call a patient so as not to scare the bejaysus out of them. I'm just sayin'.

One of the girls I work with had this same exact thing happen 2 weeks ago, and all was fine. I'm actually not worried yet, I figure I probably zigged when I should have zagged, and I blurred one of the x-rays. Leave it to me to screw up a mammogram. It was a screening not a test right? But I managed to get it wrong anyway. My bad.

I tell the boyfriend who is more compassionate than the average bear, not sure how he will react.

"The right one?"

I nod.

"That's the smaller one," he says with a slight smile, but looking a bit indignant.

"Yup" I say.

"Why are they picking on the little one?"

I smile. He always knows the right thing to say to make me do that.

two phone calls and one email from school

She simply cracks me up.

Subject: My Stuff

MaaaMaaaa

My room is getting situated and my fridge will be delivered tomorrow. Can you pass the message on to Andy that if he's still up to it, he should come tomorrow, but also let him know that I don't get out of class until 3:15? I was hoping you could stockpile a few things for Andy to bring, just cuz, well, you'll be better at it than him. Also, I'll be checking my email daily, I'm sure, but probably with less frequency as usual, as I have to use the computer room, and its really. freakin. hot. in here.

Please gather:

1.) MORE HANGERS! like, you can open my wardrobe and take all of those, and if there are any laying around my floor or whatever

2.) GRANDMA'S QUILT--located in the back left corner of my room on my laundry basket

3.) PINK SHINY PILLOW--on my floor

4.) ROLLER BLADES--In the front room already

5.) BLUE BENCH--in garage

6.) BLUE TABLE--also in garage

7.) BENCH CUSHION--in front room

8.) MORE FAT QUARTERS--not neccesary, but I've been making great use of them--If you feel like, send a few of different patterns on, no preference really.

And then I was wondering if you could do me a favor--a leafy favor. There are no house plants in this town! I went to Walmart and they only had outdoor plants. =( I really wanted some life in my room, and really wanted like, at least one big leafy plant--something... in a pot... with leaves... that you water? LOL It really perks up a dorm room, I think. If you wouldn't mind going and finding me a plant, that would be MAJORLY awesome and I would MEGA appreciate it.

Have Andy call me plleeeeeease. You can call my cell if you need me, I'll probably be out of class by 1:30 today. Thank you for helping with my stoof.

Love and kisses,

Dani


*wraps arms around myself* - she still needs me. :)
____

She didn't see me wave

At what point exactly, did she grow up? She's been doing it in fits and starts for the last few years I suppose, one day being independent and doing everything on her own, the next looking to Mommy for approval and encouragement and hugs.

She loaded up her car this morning and left for college. She did this last year, although last year her brother and I went with her. This year she loaded up her car and set out on her own. She has left my house a mess, with discarded pieces of clothing and items she decided at the last moment not to take scattered everywhere. There is not a room in the house that has not felt her leaving, with something out of place or obviously left behind.

I stood at the door and watched through the screen as she pulled down the driveway, out into the street, and drove away. Before she got into her car I asked her to be careful, kissed her, said I love you. She hugged me and kissed me back, rolling her eyes as she promised not to drive too fast in the rain. Okay Mom, I won't. Uh huh, sure. I waved as she pulled away but she didn't see me, she was already on her way.

I'm looking around at all the stuff left on the furniture, floor, and tables. I will need to clean up behind her as I have been doing since she was born it seems. Yes, she left my home a mess today when she left. She also left it empty. Bye bye Honey, be careful.

Just go.

In my bosses office the other day with 2 co-workers and my boss, I scratched my head and said "do I have any days off this week?" They looked at me and being used to my stupid questions, they simply answered me. "No-o-o...." I still needed clarification. "Is there a reason I don't have any days off this week?" Suffice it to say I promptly asked for a day off (today) when I discovered there was no reason not to. There is something to be said for working for the same company for 20 years.

I didn't want to waste an entire day off like I usually do, so I decided to make an appointment to see a dermatologist, just to have some moles looked at and to inquire about the brown patches on my face. Lovely things, those. No big deal. Appointment made, for 7:15 in the evening, good! I could still sleep in. Really really sleep in. As an afterthought, I decided to do what my gyne and my primary care physician (the smart ass) have been recommending for a year and I have not done, and schedule a mammogram as well. No symptoms, just a screening, just seems to be a little something going around these days and I thought I should finally wise up and just do it. Like Nike.

Arriving at the hospital (I had preregistered) I checked in and was given a letter. A. Yes, I was letter A. Just like Sesame Street, I felt like I should do something educational. Before my butt hit a chair I heard "letter A" being called. Weird. So I went and verified my info with a nice lady who of course had me initial all these paragraphs on this form that of course I did not read. And I signed it. I didn't even get to sit down at that point, I was directed to the big double glass doors of THE BREAST CENTER written in all caps above. Why were they shouting at me? I will admit though, those doors opening all on their own as I approached, one in and the other out, made me feel the tiniest bit important.

I finally got to sit down in THE BREAST CENTER, but only long enough to fill out another form with really easy questions like; have you ever had breast cancer? have you ever been pregnant? Things I could answer. I finished that and brought it up to the gal at the desk who directed me to the dressing room to change. Go through the wood door there, turn left, then right, and you will see the dressing room. Go in and change and when you are done go into the "gowned" dressing room and have a seat. She reiterated, "left, right, change into a gown and sit." Yes Ma'am!

Now it starts to get fun. The second I walked out there was an x-ray tech looking at the door I was coming through, expectantly. Okay, it took me a little time because I was trying to find a gown that looked good on me. I finally gave up on that quest and put on what they had and went through the door. The x-ray tech was so nice, sweet really. She directed me into a room where we talked a bit waiting for another tech to clear the computer or something.

One thing I noticed about this little room with the really big machine, was the soft lighting. Romantic, almost. Once the 2nd tech left the room, my tech didn't waste any time while still being ever so gentle and empathetic it was amazing. Maybe it's that we all have breasts, I don't know, but she was good.

First it was - take my arm out of one side of the gown and stand there all nice and exposed, except that the tech obviously was very good at not making people feel uncomfortable about how big and saggy their boobs are. There was a lot of touching as she stood next to me and positioned me, with her arm around my back and slight pressure from her body, she told me where to put my arm, relax my shoulder, reach over there and left foot red!!! She gently placed my breast on the glass plate, and once she had me lovingly placed just so, she pushed the squish button and lowered the whole weight of the top of the machine down on my breast! Okay, it wasn't that bad. C'mon ladies, it's a bit uncomfortable, but I found the take your arm out of one side of the gown and let me see how fat you really are, much more painful!

There were 2 poses on each side, and it was done. I actually thought as I was doing it, this is not a big deal, why did I think it was a pain to bother with? It really took so little time and I was done before I knew it. My tech was so gentle I almost wanted to ask if she wanted to take a few more. But no, I tied my gown up as she stood behind the window to check the x-rays to see if they were technically okay or if there needed to be a do-over before I left. I walked to the side of the screening wall and could see the screen where she was looking at, well, me. I tell you what, because they take your breast and lift (lift being the operative word) it up onto that plate, the x-ray made me look all high and perky and gorgeous! It was almost worth the trip just to see that! But to my surprise, glancing at the screen I saw a tiny little bright spot at the top of that beautiful, perky breast.

I went to get my screening because it was something I was supposed to do. I had my last mammogram (I found out today) in 2003. I had put it off for no other reason than I was being lazy about it. Then with WhyMommy and all, I just thought, well - it's almost hypocritical of me to profess support for her when I am not taking care of myself. Especially putting the button on my blog and urging people to be aware. I knew I needed to do it. But I was not worried, I have no symptoms, although I find the self exam pretty useless as I've always been a bit lumpy, so I haven't really counted on it. Still, no symptoms, nothing to worry about, I went more to ease my conscience than anything.

So when I saw that little white spot (which I am guessing was my imagination) I was surprised by the jolt it gave me. What??? I am here to make myself feel better, not about my breasts, but about urging other people to do something I have not done myself. I didn't come to this hospital to find out something may actually be wrong with me!! Because, this stuff happens to other people, right?

I am sure I am just fine. I think there must have been some sub-conscious fear I wasn't aware of that made me see that white spot, or, if I did see it - it's something normal, like the missing filling I lost from my tooth when I was 17 or something.

Point being, it doesn't just happen to other people. Schedule your mammogram today. Please.

Words

I am one of those people who loves words. I have no control over how I use them myself apparently, but I admire how others do. I have been known to compliment someone on a sentence, a perfect turn of phrase, something that says something I know I could never say. At least not in the same way.

People have told me since I was a kid that I should do something with my writing but what I could not explain to them was that I am not a writer. I talk. I give good letter. That's my favorite way of saying it. I am long winded and take 7 paragraphs to say something most people can say in 7 sentences. My grammar is bad and when my daughter the English major tries to tell me something about sentence structure or any of the "rules", I have no clue. But oh, I can appreciate good writing. That does not necessarily mean that what I consider good writing is all grammatically correct. :)

I have my favorite blogs, I'm sure we all do. Some I read because they are so clever and funny I am almost always guaranteed a laugh out loud moment every time I read them. Some I read because they are so doggone relate-able that I feel like the authors are reading my mind! There are some that I read because I simply want that person's life, so I stalk them and see what I can do to that end. And then there are some that just make me weep.

The blogs that make me weep are not necessarily what you would think, not always emotional or tear jerkers or full of drama. Some are just written so beautifully that I will literally be brought to tears by reading the description of a wonderful afternoon, a day with the kids or a story about the joy of a sweet relationship. There is one who can do that on a regular basis, and that is Amanda from the wink and tumble dry. Oh how she writes. And oh how she lets you in.

Tonight I stumbled upon a new blog, for me, anyway. Cry it out: Adventures of a stay-at-home dad. For some reason the post from today "A song of the city" touched me and brought tears to my eyes. I don't know, maybe another day the author, Mike, will make me laugh or something totally different but today, he touched my heart.

It's a good read, truly.

Think pink!!

Finally! I have listed a few new things. I cannot believe how much I've been neglecting my shop lately, I think I've been spending all my time reading blogs. I love reading blogs. Still - I managed to size some pictures and work on descriptions and add a few pieces to my shop. Just don't ask me if I've actually made anything lately.

cherry quartz and Swarovski crystal earrings

Soo Chow jade and Swarovski crystal necklace

Soo Chow jade and Swarovski crystal earrings

I love my reader!

I love Google Reader! I am sure the other readers out there are wonderful too but Google Reader is the one I tried and have been using since the day I read that Brillig over at Twas Brillig "zeroed out her Google Reader." I was like, huh? That sounds interesting, I need to check it out.

That is how I have found out almost everything about blogging, by reading blogs and clicking on whatever they have to click on, on their blogs. I have found slide shows and blog logs and site counters and on and on. But Google Reader is the best thing I have discovered so far.

I'm sure I am last to the party on this one, but oh my gosh this thing is a miracle worker! It saves time for me, I don't have to go through my list of daily blogs and click on each one a few (okay several) times a day to see if there are new posts. I don't have to keep up with my every once in a while blogs - manually. Google Reader has allowed me to add blogs to my reading list and while I know it's not as many as some people, I think 46 blogs are a lot to keep up with!!!

Right now looking up at the top of my screen I see that a new post has been picked up and as soon as I am done with this I will click over and read it. The reader is allowing me to be a functioning addict, not one that is tied to my computer all of the time. I can do some other things knowing that my reader is keeping track of all my reading and I can count on it implicitly. Oh yay. Sigh-h-h. If only everything else in my life were as reliable, I would be a happy lady. Now I need to go see who has posted. Oh who am I kidding - I clicked over to see right away - so now I am just going back to read the post I know is there. And doing it very happily. :)

Re-posting

I am putting this up here again because I pushed it off the top way too quickly with my electricity rant. This is too important to let sink quite so fast.

This is WhyMommy. She is a beautiful, young, incredibly articulate woman, wife, and mother. And she has breast cancer. That, of course is not all that defines her but right now it is the unwelcome focus of most of her days.

She has a type of breast cancer most of us know very little about called IBC or inflammatory breast cancer. WhyMommy writes about it here, she can explain it much better than I.

Please read her article. Then, say a prayer for WhyMommy and her family and tell her story to everyone you know. I managed to get to 48 years old never having heard of this kind of cancer and I am sure there are many many people like me out there. We need to educate ourselves and we need to support each other. Thank you WhyMommy, for telling your story and sharing your struggle with us. I'm praying for you.

Good news!

My electricity is fixed, more about that later. :)

Right now I just wanted to say - I've got a themed post in TopBlogMag - so please click on over and take a look! It's my first time so please be gentle.

And ... I'm not sure why that guy is wearing a bra!

********************************************
Okay. I have a picture of the culprit here. The round fuses were the ones I was aware of. The long ones that look a bit like a shotgun shell - I didn't know existed at all, much less in my fuse box!

Apparently the bigger fuses are some kind of main fuses - there are only 2 of them and 1 controls the front of the house and one controls the back. So why all the other individual fuses then? Seems redundant to me! Regardless of my opinion though, the big 60 amp fuses DO exist and now I have backups and know how to check and load them.

Wish I had known that last night, I wouldn't have spent the night tossing and turning and gasping like a guppy - thinking I couldn't breathe! I sleep with a ceiling fan above me every night, winter, summer, doesn't matter. I like the air moving and I like the noise, it's soothing. Not having air conditioning is something I could have dealt with if I just could have had my ceiling fan!

Not having the TV to keep my mind off not having the ceiling fan which would have kept my mind off not having AC was the last straw. I admit it, I am pathetically, totally spoiled and dependant on all the conveniences of American life. I am the poor woman's Paris Hilton. Now that's sad.

To give credit where credit is due - it was the best boyfriend ever who came and showed me the hidden fuses and saved my pampered butt! What a guy!!!

Not a happy camper

I was vacuuming. Okay, I know it was around midnight but I am not a day person. The chairs in the living room are pulled away from the windows so I could vacuum behind them - a small side table is sitting by the front door - there is a pile of laundry on my bed to fold. Then the power went out. Okay, the power went out in the front of the house, not the back. The front is where I live, it's where the bedrooms are, the only bathroom and the living room. The kitchen counts too because basically the front of the house constitutes the original layout of the house. Starting at the laundry room back - is the addition to the house. That's where my son has nested. It is basically a big family room and he has made it his own while I have made his original bedroom my bead room. But I digress.

So there is no power in the front of the house which means no air conditioning. We only have window units to begin with and they aren't so great but they are better than the outside air right now. It's not incredibly hot if you look at the numbers but it is crazy humid out there. So, there is power in the back of the house, ah ha! It means a fuse has blown.

I got a flashlight and went out to the garage because that is where the fuse box is. The garage is on the same circuit as the back of the house so I was able to get the door open. But - that is where my luck ran out. We have those old screw in kind of fuses, not those nice switches that are so easy to reset. This is an older house that was never updated, I don't own it I rent it, so those kinds of upgrades are definitely not something I am going to do. I took the flashlight and checked all the fuses but they all looked fine to me. To be sure, I unscrewed each one and removed it, replaced it with a new one, when there was no change I unscrewed each one and put the original back in. The only one I didn't do that with was the one that controls the back of the house because obviously that one is just fine.

Standing in the garage, in the dark and humidity, trying to change outdated hot to the touch fuses in the early morning hours when I know I have to get up in the morning is not my idea of a good time. The sweat was literally running down into my eyes. Still - I could not find anything wrong with any of the fuses.

So now what? I really hate to act like a girl about this, but you don't call the electric company if it's obviously something within your own house do you? Do you call your landlord and wake her up in the middle of the night? Not that I could find her phone number right now anyway. I am literally at a loss. So what do I do? Go to the one thing that is working for the moment, my laptop. It's on battery power so I will be turning it off soon, but I needed to rant!!!

This is the one type of situation where I wish I had a male partner of some sort, here full time. When something breaks or needs lifting or something like that, I wouldn't mind a bit of testosterone around the house. And I might add that this is also the time when I am cursing out the former boyfriend who talked me into this house when I was looking for a place - with promises of - we'll do this to it - we'll do that - uh - yeah. I do not like this house and I have not liked it from the beginning. But right now I don't have a whole lot of options.

So - I will have to figure this out in the morning when I can at least see where I left my GOOD glasses, not this pair I managed to grab by the lenses from an end table. Silly though, I don't want to turn off my computer. I go to bed with the TV on every night, with a sleep timer. Turning off my computer really makes it dark and well - boring! I guess I like to be entertained to sleep. But I have to turn it off for now.


Good night all - hope your night is better than mine!

This is WhyMommy

This is WhyMommy. She is a beautiful, young, incredibly articulate woman, wife, and mother. And she has breast cancer. That, of course is not all that defines her but right now it is the unwelcome focus of most of her days.

She has a type of breast cancer most of us know very little about called IBC or infammatory breast cancer. WhyMommy writes about it here, she can explain it much better than I.

Please read her article. Then, say a prayer for WhyMommy and her family and tell her story to everyone you know. I managed to get to 48 years old never having heard of this kind of cancer and I am sure there are many many people like me out there. We need to educate ourselves and we need to support each other. Thank you WhyMommy, for telling your story and sharing your struggle with us. I'm praying for you.

It's not to be

I have been reading all the posts about the Blogher conference in Chicago last weekend. I live in the suburbs of Chicago bit still would not have even considered going, I am wa-a-a-y-y too new to blogging. I am still feeling my way around and getting to know people and finding other blogs I like to read. But it has been especially enjoyable to read the posts about this year's conference.

I have been delighted to read about all the girl crushes out there, one blogger for another, based on the relationships they share online and admiration for the skills of others. Or maybe they just want to steal someone else's life, I don't know. So much humor - my gosh I think I have laughed out loud at most of the posts - especially the near universal "privacy to poop" issues several ladies talked about. *giggle* Who designs a hotel with beautiful bathrooms with louvered doors and shutters that open into bedrooms!!?!? What kind of a bad idea was that?! Everybody knows guys wouldn't care, but women? Especially women who don't know each other very well but want to impress all their girl/blog/crushes? Puh-lease!

I will admit to some envy though, I really haven't had many close relationships with women for many years, which is a story unto itself. The friendships built online between some of these ladies sounds amazing and omg so much fun!

Alas, I guess it isn't meant to be for me though. I registered at Blogher. I did. But I can't get in to save my life. I have 18 different usernames and passwords at work alone, not to mention the 104 (approximately) I have here at home - I thought well - I forgot my username. Or maybe it's my password. Maybe it's both! Hey - I'm only an I.T. employee! I requested a new password. Twice. I got a link back - twice, which I think confirms that Blogher recognizes me as existing! Yay! But I still could not get in. :(

I typed a poor-me missive to the powers that be - or the powers that I think - be - but have not heard back. I'm thinking they are looking at it saying omg can you believe her? Should we let her back in? Should we put her through a hazing first - some kind of initiation like forcing her to blog about her most embarrassing moments - and then reading it out loud to all her co-workers??? *snort! guffaw!!* Or maybe poop in a bathroom with shutters open to a roomful of fellow bloggers? No, that would be punishment for them!

Okay ladies - I'm ready, give me my assignment. I am just warning you now though, that if you make me drink alcohol before I blog - I tend to be a real lightweight and have been known to drunk-email and *gasp!* NOT use spellcheck! For real! So give me your best shot! I'm waiting!!