So, what happens when Absent doesn't blog for three months...

A rooster haunts her apartment complex!




And it won't leave!

Apparently, I'm the only one who can see the rooster, because the management says no-one else has reported it. For three days!!! The management has called out Animal Control, when I told them there was a rooster running around the grounds, and Animal Control told them that there were not any visible signs of the rooster. But, I see the rooster every time I leave my apartment, and every time I come home. It wakes me up at 4:30 with its crowing. How can I be the only one who sees the rooster, and is bothered by the fact that it is there?

Is there a reason that I am being haunted by domesticated fowl? Are the fates trying to tell me I'm a chicken?

Apparently, if you want your house to have a lingering scent, try one little burnt baked potato. The scent will linger for three days at least... so far.

Football's First Forward Pass, aka I Can Move Forward Day November 1st

On November 1st in 1913 Notre Dame introduced the first forward pass in a game against Army at West Point. Notre Dame scored 35 points to Army's 13. In honor of this ground breaking game, I am naming November 1st I Can Move Forward Day.

The reasons for I Can Move Forward Day are personal. Basically, I have had a very emotionally difficult six weeks. Normally, my gut reaction to this type of personal stress is to want to crawl under the covers and hide until someone makes me come out. Fortunately, I seem to have grown up a bit because I can't do that this time, because hiding is isn't productive nor is it healthy.

I had spent the last three days writing out the details of what had happened over the last six weeks, but I have decided not to post what I wrote for a few reasons. First, it doesn't really fit the scope of my blog; second, it felt whiney, even though there were a few cleverly phrased parts; and third, I'm shy, and I don't feel like sharing all of it. But, I am going to share some of it, and hopefully it won't feel like the whiney parts.

Anyway, the core of my stress is that I found out that my Multiple Sclerosis has progressed. I have progressed from Relapsing-Remitting Multiple Sclerosis to Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. Because of this progression, I am going to have to increase the dosage of one of my medications, (Interferon Beta 1-A going from brand name Avonex 30 mcg once a week to Rebif 44 mcg three times a week). This increase could effect my ability to work full time, which would effect my insurance, which would effect my ability to get treatment... and so on, and so on.

I haven't really noticed an increase in my disability, but the MRI that I had in August showed that I have 26 lesions on my brain. Last year I had 12. The year before that I had 7, and the year before that I had 5. Basically, the lesions are places where the brain doesn't work any more because my immune system has attacked my nervous system and the cells that have been attacked form scar tissue through a process called demyelination.

So, my brain has so many holes it's like Swiss cheese. (Which means it's normal that I loose my keys every other day and lock myself out of my apartment at midnight on a Sunday night, and when people notice that I am being a bit of an airhead I can just say, "It's okay, I have 26 holes in my brain!") But, the way that my doctor gave me this information was not good. (Let's just say, doctors should read their patient files before they go into the exam room so they don't say things like, "Well, at least you've already have had your children, so you don't have to worry about pregnancy on these medications" and "Maybe we should save the rest of this conversation until your husband can be here.") Then, the same week that I got all this news, my brother was in a major car accident. So, that week wasn't a good week.

But that was in September, and I have had all of October to get used to the idea of new treatment, and today, the first day of November, is a good day for a fresh start. I had my follow-up appointment with my doctor. The doctor had me schedule a follow-up because the one in September was so emotional he wanted to give me time to come to terms with all the new information. Today's appointment was mostly setting up all the technical stuff for my new treatment. I have to have a home health nurse come in to show me how to do everything the right way. I had to get all the right insurance preauthorizations. I have to sign over the title of my car and my non-existent first-born for every monthly co-pay... but, I actually feel okay about this new first step. The positive thing is, even though my MRI looks really bad-- bad enough for the doctors to be really, really concerned, I am functioning fairly well, and I feel pretty good, most days. In fact, I think that most of my not feeling good is due to side effects of my medications that are supposed to be stopping the progression of the Multiple Sclerosis. Which is why I have had such a difficult time deciding to increase the dosage of those medications.

After today's appointment, I feel really positive about moving forward (and it doesn't hurt that the needle is significantly smaller for the Rebif) not dwelling on all of this negative stuff I have had in my head these last six weeks. I haven't ever seen a football game without at least one forward pass (at least I can't remember a significant one). Even with a strong running game, the best offense needs to mix things up with a few passes, and everyone loves to see a completed long-reach-for-it-and-run-for-the-end-zone pass. Perhaps, this new medication will be one of those passes where I can hear the footsteps of the defense right on me, and the end zone is just right there when the ball just comes over my shoulder into my hands... you know, just perfect.

The Cool Kids

Sometimes, I think that I am such a nerd that all the cool kids are playing jokes on me, and they are just laughing and laughing.

Saturday night, for example, I was driving home from a friend's house after midnight, and I had been away from my home for only twelve hours. In the twelve hours that I was gone, someone had removed the traffic light has always been at the end my street and had placed it at the brand new intersection one block up. Now, the intersection for my street is naked.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was so confused. When I am tired, I drive by landmarks not by logic. I turn at the first light, and I do not make sure that I have driven .6 miles from the freeway exit. I got so lost that I almost curled up in a corn field and fell asleep because I was so confused, because I knew that I was so near my house, and yet it was so freakishly Twilight Zoney, and I was so tired and I just wanted to go to bed.

Well, today I had to work until ninefreakingthirtyatnight and I have to get up at fourfreakingthirtyinthemorning for a meeting. Yep. I had forgotten all about the new traffic light placement and got lost all over again.

Why, why, why do the cool kids have to torment me so much? Did they really have to move the light? Couldn't they have just added the new one and then we could have had two? Because really, the connecting street that I am supposed to just see does not have one single lamppost on it, and it is dark out in them there corn fields. Are you cool kids trying to push me over the edge? Are you trying to pull out my last thread of sanity? Because I am that close to tying up my shoelaces and throwing my shoes over the powerline and going off to live in Spectre forever.

When You Realize You Can Never Go Home Again

When is a post not a post?
When it looks like a, well, when it looks phallic.
Some Keizer residents are saying their city has installed posts that have an unnerving resemblance to male genitalia. (Statesman Journal: "Keizer posts require delicate maneuvering")

BUT WAIT, here's the best part. Hoping to avoid the expense of tearing out and replacing the offending knobs, city officials are now considering adding a metal collar just below each head and joining the shafts together with chains. Because that de-sexualizes them completely. (Boing Boing: "Concrete cocks terrorize Oregon town")

This is the little town I grew up in. This is the little town I loved. It hurts my heart to see such ridiculousness coming from my little hometown.

Puppy

For the last week, I have been dog-sitting Edgy's dog, Puppy. And now I want to take her home with me. My mom also want me to take her home with me. I want to take her home with me, because she is very good company, and I think that I am getting tired of living by myself. My mom want me to take Puppy home with me, because she thinks that I am cranky if I am tired, and likes that Puppy makes me go to bed. Yeah, Puppy decides when it is bedtime, and makes me go to bed.

I also have decided that I want to move to downtown Salt Lake City. I have decided it is much more fun to live in a ethnically diverse and richly cultural area, at least an area that is more ethnically diverse and cultural than the area that I live now. It's just neat to see dread locks and goths and non-white people, and Churches that aren't Mormon while walking on a simple morning walk. That doesn't happen in Pleasant Grove, where I live, or in Provo, where I work. Yeah for diversity!

Anyway, I've been having lots of fun with Puppy. I have tried to discover how much fur I can brush off of her, given unlimited amounts of time. I stopped after two hours. My black t-shirt no-longer looked black, and there were still loose hairs. I was trying to help her loose a layer of her fur coat because it is unbelievably hot here in Utah, and no relieve is in sight. But, now, Edgy's living room rug has a lot of dog hair on it, and I can't find the vacuum... but I haven't looked too hard. Sorry, Edgy, you are going to have to vacuum when you come home.

Tonight, while I was packing up to go back home in the morning, Puppy knows something is up. She stole one of my flip flops, and ran out into the dark back yard. Now, normally, this would not have been a big deal, because they were four dollar flip flops, but, they were the only footwear I had brought, and I didn't fancy the thought of limping alongside Puppy on her morning walk with only one flip flop. So, I ran outside after her. I couldn't see her for a while, but I did, she was there, running full force at me, and she head butted me! Right on my shin! That will leave a mark. Well, we chased each other around the yard for about a half and hour, and I eventually found my flip flop, so all is well.

Now, she is calling me to bed, with short brisk barks, so I had better get going, mostly because I am not done packing up my stuff yet. I am especially not done packing if I am to sneak her home to live with me.... just kidding Edgy!

Tagged

Today I was tagged by Soccer Dad, which is kind of a good thing because I don't think I have ever really been tagged before, and I was beginning to think that I wasn't a real blogger because I haven't ever been tagged. And, well, I have read blogs where bloggers have said "everyone reading this should consider themselves tagged," but really, I don't consider myself tagged, because I really feel like an uninvited party guest unless I get a formal invitation to participate in things like that.

Anyway, if you want to find out more about who tagged me, and you really should, because he is a very good read, and because he lists me as a humor blog, which boosts my ego, so you should go here. Soccer Dad once described me as:

"the exact opposite of me in a number of ways - She's blue in a red state from the western end of I-70 and I'm red in a blue state at the eastern end of I-70."

My favorite recent post of Soccer Dad's is this one which talks about Harry Potter plot development.

Well, anyway, I guess I should get to the point, and to the tag.

The Rules are:Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

So, my eight things:

• At 32 years old, I am the youngest person at my place of employment by fifteen years, and one example of the generation gap is, I am the only employee that uses email for memos, and it drives me crazy-nuts to get a paper memo. (All that wasted paper!) So, at least three times a week, I grind my teeth because of memos.
• I feel like I am the type of person that should like puzzles. I mean, I can sit for hours trying out all sorts of different shades of a colors for a color block on a tri-fold pamphlet and think that I had a successful day. Which seems like the same kind of activity as a puzzle. But, it's not. Two minutes of a puzzle and I am done. It's like someone already had something done, and then decided to mess it all up. Why do that?
• I love to read cookbooks and recipes on the internet, but I rarely actually follow a recipe.
• I love white water river rafting, and if I could have a summer vacation college student-style again, I would be a river raft guide.
• I used to mock women who wore flip-flops with dresses or other professional clothing. But, now I wear them too. I know, I hang my head in shame.
• I drove a car in college that was held together by wire, chewing gum, and faith. I still miss that car, and my newest car, a station wagon, is a tribute to that car.
• I have curtains and a rod that I bought almost a year ago to put in my bedroom and I haven't hung them because I am not quite sure how. When I do figure them out, I am going to re-arrange everything in my room around the curtains.
• I apply for a new job every time my boss goes out of town. He is gone next week, and will be gone again in August.

And now I need to get back to work, but I will be taging my eight bloggers soon!

Jewelry Lovers Day, March 13th

Jewelry Lovers Day

Since aquamarine is the birthstone for March, and because aquamarine is supposed to increase intelligence (always a good thing) and cure laziness (I have had a hard time buckling down and working these past couple of weeks), and also because it is Scorpio's (my sign's) birthstone, I have been wearing my aquamarine ring a lot lately.

Today, while I was up doing a site visit for work, my ring fell off. I got down on the floor and looked. So did everyone else. We couldn't find it anywhere. When after a half an hour of three people looking and no ring, I gave up. I was sad, but not devastated, because while I like my ring, but I know that it is not an expensive ring because the stone is light in color and cloudy and I remember that much from when I was a geology major... for two and a half semesters, a million years ago.

But, it was just weird. No ring anywhere. When I got back into the agency minivan, (it is probably not only worth mentioning that I was driving the agency minivan, but I am going to mention it because I was driving a vehicle that I was not comfortable driving, and am proud of myself for navigating near BYU traffic during lunchtime in a vehicle that I hate driving) to drive back to work, I had a weird thought. Check your clothes, the thought said. I checked my pockets, no ring. So, I started driving down the very steep hill. The nagging thought would not leave. So, I pulled over on the side of the very narrow road and patted myself down. I found the ring tucked into the cuff of my jeans. How it didn't fall out while I was down on my knees for twenty minutes looking for the ring, or when I walked up two flights of stairs on my way to the parking lot, I will never know, but I am glad to have my ring back, because I do like my jewelry.

Anyway, if you like jewelry, but you haven't ever really loved your birthstone, check out this site. There are lots of different stones you can choose for your favorite, based on birth month, zodiac sign, birth day of the week, Tribe of Israel, guardian angel or even apostle.

So, if any of you readers are thinking of buying me jewelry, I am opal for October, aquamarine for Scorpio, and carnelian for Friday. But, probably, garnets and pearls are my favorites.

New Worst Thing Ever

When one's power goes out, and one has wet hair from the shower, wet enough to freeze in soft little frost covered dreadlocks if one went outside, and thirty minutes until one must leave for one's interview.

Please join me in my YELP of dismay!

ARRRGHHH!

But, thank heaven that I ironed my skirt last night.

Whew! One crisis averted.

Why can't blow dryers and curling irons have the battery storage of a laptop computer?

Worst Thing Ever

Let it be said, that there isn't anything worse than coming home after midnight to an overflowing toilet when you have a job interview in the morning and you need to iron your outfit and you know that it will be a bad commute because it is supposed to snow, so you need to be extra early to allow for the stupid drivers that will increase traffic time.

Yeah, the bathroom and hallway... totally flooded, and I can't figure out a reason other than the toilet decided it would be cool to spew out water while I was gone.

Stupid toilet. It doesn't want me to move to Salt Lake City.