So let’s see, what’s happened…

I botched the Porkchop’s haircut. I clipped too high over his ear (I dunno, I think I was tired or something, lol) and then thought it would make sense to use the neck clipper bit to clip down the hair that was left. Um. So now one side is just too high, but still has some hair above his ear and the other side has essentially a bald patch above his ear.

He’s thrilled. And using it to get out of ever leaving the house, lol. With encouragement I’m sure he’ll send me a picture to post here… 😀 😀

We watched Chuck (season premieres all week, whee!) last night and I love it. It’s smart and funny and oddly endearing. It’s also right before Heroes, so those are two great hours on a Monday night. 🙂 Journeyman wasn’t bad, it reminds me alot of The Time Traveler’s Wife, but I’m not sure it’ll keep an audience.

I found the perfect house, of course, and it’s cheaper, bigger, has a huge fence yard and oh, did I mention, on Cape Cod? Unfortunately, our landlord (whom I now despise) won’t let us out of our lease. No discussion, just “no.” Although if it sells, we can “talk about it.”

We haven’t seen a realtor yet, no sign has gone up, etc., so perhaps she’s realizing now is a bad time to sell? I don’t know, but at least now she realizes she burned this bridge and we won’t be staying come May, even if she does still own the place.

So now I’m a little sad that my perfect Cape house isn’t going to work out. It was yellow. Had a huge, fenced yard, an upstairs loft with great skylights, six rooms, a fireplace… OK, I’m stopping now.

I’m still a bit itchy, so that’s fun as well, and it was getting colder, but today is supposed to be high 80s and tomorrow 90s, so WTF is with this weather?

I need a vacation.

When I know a move is looming.. even though our lease won’t run out for seven months.. I start looking. The Porkchop is not a fan of this, particularly since I found something awesome already. Oops.

What can I say? Craigslist is awesome, lol. It’s on the water, 2Bed, 2Bath, with.. a fenced yard. Which we have decided is our main goal. Regina needs to be able to run far more than she can here and a huge fenced yard would be perfect. Also, it would help with my sanity on days I work from home and she decides to be hyper. Those days.. ugh.

The worst part about where we are is that everyone wants to rent our their places for the academic year, then kick people out for three months and jack $900 per month rents up to $1000 per week. And seriously, they get it. It’s insane.

I’m feeling far less itchy, which is great, but for some reason I’m waking up every day at 5AM.. not great. Today I managed to go back to sleep, but then woke up and here I am, up by 9 on a Saturday. Very not cool.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will probably never be able to drink alcohol again. Argh. Last week I had a couple of small drinks three nights in a row (don’t tell my dad either of you.. :P) and then started sneezing, then got sick. I can’t be sure it’s related until the new bloodwork comes back, but my guess—totally related. I think I’m more sad that coffee makes me sick than liquor, to be honest, so that’s what the Doc wants to focus on. Why am I itchy, what in coffee makes me ill, is itching a symptom or etc… the fun thing is that I get to write down what makes me feel bad if I consume it. Last night: tomato sauce. Nice huh? We walked the dog, came home, I sat down, then had to lay on the ground to control the urge to puke.. the only thing I had for lunch was some pasta and sauce. Sad, very sad.

Ohhh, and the Chop got the scoop on our landlord from her handyman (there was an issue with a sink we broke, um, oops). Apparently she was married for 12 years (had to be a young marriage, she looks 34), got divorced and bought this place to, well, recharge her life, I suppose. This was in ’04. Then she met this guy, decided to move to where he was, rented to us and all was well (this was in May). Now they’ve broken up and she’s decided to move on.. for one, she found another place she wants to buy (hi, yes, because it’s a BUYER’s market right now, not a seller’s) and so wants to get rid of this place to buy that one.

We will be amazed if this sells for more than what she originally paid in ’04. The market is shit, the neighbors across the street who were trying to sell have taken the sign out and are waiting until spring, and it’s almost winter, the worst time to try to sell.

However, on the off chance that somebody decides to buy, I kinda hope they let us out of the lease early so we can go to this other place I found.. :D.

Here’s what I don’t get. I’m a nice person. I pay my rent on time. I leave the places I’ve rented cleaner than when I first moved in. I handle the problems that arise WITHOUT bothering the landlord.

So what exactly have I done to make ANOTHER landlord decide to sell the house that I am living in?

Fortunately we get first dibs, and she’s assured me that our lease supercedes whatever sales agreement she makes.

However, our lease is up in May next year and if we don’t decide to buy it we have to be prepared (though she’ll give me a few hours’ notice) to have people come through and look at the place.

WHAT DID I DO IN MY LIFE? Was I previously a Nazi war criminal or something? Did I starve puppies and kick babies?

For added fun I get to go to see the specialist again today, whereupon he will tell me a) we don’t know what’s wrong with you (surprise, surprise), b) let’s run more tests (whee!) and c) we might never know.

Dandy.

My cousing harassed me to blog this morning, lol, and the truth is, I’ve been meaning too. But I got sick on Friday and have been having a bit of a rough week.

Anyway, so King (the guy I adore working with at work) quit about a month ago and the boss hired a woman from his old company. Without looking for someone else. Because he is insane.

She turned out to be a huge pain in the ass (also, laughed like a hyena, hence her moniker) and Hyena “quit” two weeks ago. Whereupon the company begged King to do some freelance until we find someone.

So the day my boss said “post this ad on Craigslist,” a guy saw it, brought in his resume and the following morning arrived to do some contract work so they could try him out.

Everybody loves him, he’s incredibly nice (I finally met him yesterday), he knows what he’s doing, he’s a total nerd like me and sadly, we probably won’t get to keep him because they won’t meet his price. STUPID BOSSES!

He’s married with two kids and incredibly qualified, but my bosses are freaking misers and they won’t pay enough to get somebody good. Hence the insane turnover (we’ve hired and fired, um, I believe SIX people since I’ve worked there… anybody see a problem?).

The best part about him is that he is so incredibly mellow that I have decided to dub him Valium. Yesterday, after he answered the twelfth call of the hour with the same calm response, I told him he was like taking a Valium. He laughed (and he’s a deep belly laugher, where the entire face becomes a grin.. you know, the fun people).

I told the Chop that a) I’m sad they don’t live near us because he and his wife would become our best friends lol and b) that if new guy’s voice is my Valium, his voice is my Viagra. 😉

hehe.

edited per Grampa’s bitching 😛

One of my father’s closest friends, the man who mentored him in the early years of his private practice, died yesterday.

He was in his 80s and had been moved into hospice, but it wasn’t more than two years ago that he was still assisting my dad.

My mom said she hasn’t seen my dad this devastated but once before, and she had never wanted to see it again.

I know it’s hard for him, being a doctor, to have people die. Particularly those who are so close. It’s hard for us as well, those who are around him, to watch someone so generally happy and ready to see the best in every situation, crushed.

September will never be a happy month because of 9/11, and now, because of this.

RIP Leo

My parents are in San Francisco for a conference.

My mom went shopping today.

I was at Macy’s, but I had to leave. I just couldn’t stand it anymore.

Why’s that Mom?

Paris Hilton was there.

At Macy’s?

Yeah.

Why’d you leave? Couldn’t take the shopping or Paris Hilton?

Ugh. Paris Hilton.

To be honest, what I’m most impressed with is that my mom knew who PH was. I feel like my sister and I have done well with her pop culture education. 😀

We got my results back today and surprise, surprise, I have a perfect liver! Bollocks.

The doc said all the biopsies came back clear, no sign of necrosis, etc., yada yada. Great, that’s dandy… except now that means we are back to square one and no one knows what’s wrong with me.

Which means that I’m pissed AND that I think I should be allowed to drink now. 😀 I mean seriously, my liver looks fine and I can deal with feeling like shit tomorrow if I get to feel niiiiice tonight, lol.

So I’m feeling much better (my side still aches and I can’t lift anything for awhile), and my memory of Friday is basically gone, LOL.

The drugs were definitely amnesic. I’m glad I posted that bit on Saturday because I don’t even remember half that stuff.

My parents have gone, and my mom only cleaned the oven, the toaster and the microwave (last time she cleaned the floor on her hands and knees), so it wasn’t too bad, lol. My parents love our little beach house and I’m pretty sure my dad wants to move into our backyard. Trees! Little stream! Hammock! Crickets! Patio! Best ever! It was hysterical. 🙂

We also took them to our favorite breakfast spot, where we sat at the counter in front of the open kitchen (otherwise it was an hour wait) and my dad exclaimed over every dish that left said kitchen. The cooks completely loved him and gave him free watermelon, LOL. The food was awesome as always, and he proclaimed their cheesy grits the best he’s ever had (and he’s from Texas). He can’t wait to come back in November and go back there, and I guarantee they will remember him.

After we dropped them at the airport Sunday the Chop and I had a mini movie marathon: Sherrybaby (don’t bother, it wasn’t that good), Marie Antoinette (quite good, actually) and I watched the Sound of Music (always good) while he recorded.

Overall, not a bad recovery. 🙂

Yesterday I had a liver biopsy.

Billed as a minor surgical procedure, it still required IV sedation, so to me, it seemed a smidge more than minor.

The drugs they gave me were, according to the nurse, “to make you do what we want, but be half-asleep… and they’re slightly amnesic, so you won’t remember much.”

The nurses were great, my IV was in with not much trouble (first time I’ve ever not had a massive bruise on my hand) and they were marking me with a pen when the doctor came in.

Fortunately the drugs weren’t in me yet, because proclaiming that Doogie Howser wasn’t doing my surgery didn’t seem like the best plan.

Instead, I smiled, said, “You look younger than me. You are SO not allowed to do my surgery.”

Fortunately they all laughed and he assured me that one, he was older than me (maybe, but just barely), and two, he would be assisting the other doctor, who, I would be happy to know, was a grandfather.

Here’s the thing. You’re getting a delicate procedure done, one that requires many years of experience because most of it is done by eye from outside of the body. I’m sorry, but I want the oldest person on staff who’s been doing this since before I was born, not the kid who has perfect skin (unbelievable, he said it was genes), blushed when I flirted with him and said he used to watch Doogie Howser too. Uhuh, no way.

The doctor who came in had the perfect balance of wrinkles and white hair and a lovely German accent. The nurses told him that I was pleased he was old enough to do my surgery and as he looked at me over his spectacles, I grinned and said, “Perfect blend of age and beauty.”

He chuckled and said I was cheeky. Then he asked if my dad was old enough to ever do my surgery and I said, “of course, but also, he gets automatic dad points.”

By this point they were starting to drug me, so they pulled aside the gown, draped the area and started the ultrasound to see my liver.

I vaguely remember this part, but basically they numbed my side with Novocaine and used a spring-loaded pressured giant needle to push into my side and take the biopsies. They took four.

The weird thing was I distinctly remember the sound of the pressure releasing and the pain of the needle plunging in. Mainly, I think, because they had to keep me awake to hold my breath every time they put the needle in.

Why, you ask? Well apparently it’s because your liver moves every time you breathe, due to its proximity to your lungs. And that’s a pain, because now every time I breathe it hurts. Lovely, all around.

I was quite lucid when they wheeled me to recovery and aside from the pain when I breathed, was ready to go home. Unfortunately they want to make sure you clot, so they made me lay on the offended side for an hour, then stay there for three more.

My parents and the Porkchop came back to sit with me and whilst we waited I taught my dad how to use his laptop, lol.

They gave me lunch and wanted me to drink liquids, but then neglected to tell me that if I had to pee, I’d need to do it in a bedpan until the allotted time lying down was over. Yeah, I’ll hold it, thanks.

We used to live in the area when my dad was in the military and he and my mom desperately wanted to visit a turkey farm they remembered (for pot pies) and an ice cream stand. Since it was only 30 minutes from the hospital (and we were about two hours from home), I said why not and we ended up spending most of the afternoon having lunch at a diner on the side of the road (they hadn’t eaten), buying pot pies at a turkey farm and going into sugar comas at a huge ice cream stand (gah).

Heading for home, the Porkchop agreed to drive (my dad had been driving and the man is a BAD driver.. he doesn’t pay attention, he hits all the potholes and he slams on brakes.. not good for a person whose side hurts and needs to take shallow breaths to control the pain) and we made it home in an hour and a half.

I went to bed almost immediately and this morning I feel much better. Although my side is still painful, I’m more aware of how to breathe to minimize the discomfort. I can’t twist around, I move quite slowly and can’t lift anything or do anything for the next three days.

The rest of them are still asleep, so I’m padding about the house by myself, trying to decide if it’s been 24 hours since the procedure so I can shower.

It hasn’t, but I’m thinking two hours doesn’t make much difference, lol.