Sunday, November 30, 2008
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmas's since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.
I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year, I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.
I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your sister" because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dogs....
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely.
It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come on in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to the cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always, MOM!!
P.S. One more thing . . . you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
A deviated septum is characterized by a nasal septum (the structure that divides the nose) that is bent due to a birth defect or injury.
The doctor then has to de-congest me with some steam before he can run a scope into both of my sinuses. This was not a pleasant transaction. I now need to get a CT scan of my sinuses and return to the doctor with the films so he can decide his next course of action. Trust me, I can't wait.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
He now claims it was all just a joke. A joke that nobody is laughing at.
Stephen told, Page Six, "The liberal Democrats who didn't get that I was joking need to lighten up. Obama is obviously talented and intelligent, and I have great respect for the man. He's got my full support, and I'm gonna be praying for him and his administration."
Stephen went on to talk about what he would do if gay marriage ever becomes legal, "If they legalize gay marriage in all 50 states in my lifetime, I'll get a Billy Ray Cyrus tattoo on my butt to go with the Hannah Montana one."
I'm just, like, so, you know.... GONNA THROW UP!
If Stephen Baldwin and that toothbrush were the last two things on earth....I would take the toothbrush.
I mean, come on, I had to get them. The box says they are "chocolate drenched", not dipped in chocolate, not covered in chocolate, not even laced with chocolate. CHOCOLATE DRENCHED!!
So, I get back to work and open the box and to my surprise, there are only 7 cookies in the box. Seven cookies. I paid $3.99 for 7 freakin' cookies?!?! I google 'Milano limited edition cookies' and I find the picture with the following article below......
Apparently I am not the only sucker who likes Milano cookies. Holy Crap. I feel so used.
"Each winter Pepperidge Farms brings out a chocolate covered version of their Milano cookies, which are extremely popular with both chocoholics and cookie fans.
The regular Milano cookies feature two crispy, oval-shaped sugar cookies sandwiching a thin layer of dark chocolate. As the photo above indicates, the luxurious Chocolate Drenched version features even more chocolate and is apparently quite the treat.
The Chocolate Drenched Milanos typically hit stores around the December holidays, and in spite of the high price per package (as high as $4 for seven cookies) they don’t last long."
Ok, now I am really mad. While I was writing this blog post, I ate one of the cookies.
It was OK. Just OK. It is not the decadent treat the box promises. What is the world coming to when you cannot find simple pleasure in a cookie???????????
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The policy of all calls with stomach complaints going to the Triage Nurse, was to help weed out any child that might have a case that was an emergency, such as appendicitis. Where the Triage Nurse would know exactly what questions to ask the parent, and could recommend the ER, if a trip to the doctors office was not warranted. The O.M. was not aware that it was taking up to two hours for calls to be returned. Her exact words were, "In two hours, a lot can happen, this was not our intention of starting this policy. It was to return the parents call within minutes, not hours."
She stated that she had several of the Doctors listen to my message and they agreed that the policy needed to be changed. If a parent calls and wants to make an appointment, an appointment will be made. They will also make sure they are fully staffed with nurses during the hours with the heaviest call volumes, to cover the Triage Nurse Line.
Monday, November 17, 2008
I called our pediatrician this morning at 7:30 to schedule an appointment for our 9 yr old. Her stomach has been hurting since yesterday and she is not eating. Her ADHD medication is probably the reason for the stomach pain, but I need to talk to her doctor. See, we are on our 4th medication change since we started ADHD meds in the summer.
So, I am talking to the lady who answers the phone, I told her I wanted to see Dr. Dedman, and she says she has 1:40 for today. I said that would be great. She then asked me what was wrong. I told her that Ash was having stomach pain. She immediately says that she cannot put me in the time slot, that I must speak to the Triage Nurse and transfers me. Wait...w.t.f?????????? I did not want to leave a message for the Triage Nurse. I ended the call on my cell, and called again. "Hello, this Linda", I hear in my ear. I introduced myself AGAIN, and told her that I didn't need to talk to the Triage Nurse, that I was pretty sure what was wrong. She told me all stomach complaints had to go the the Triage Nurse. Oh. My. God. She transfers me AGAIN.
All I want to do is make an appointment for my daughter.
So, I left a lengthy, detailed message with the Triage Nurse, as I was directed to do. TWO HOURS later, I get a call back from Amy. She begins to question me on when our last bowel movement was, what it looked like, and 17 other questions that I answered before she said to me "I think she just has a stomach virus, so have her lay down, and call us back later in the afternoon."
This...is the exact moment I lost it. I said "NO, she does not have stomach virus. I know my daughter, and I want to have her seen by a doctor, so, she will be seen by a doctor. I want an appointment time for today!" She tells me she has a 1:40 with another Dr., no, wait that appointment is gone. It was just taken by someone else who is also booking appointments. So, they only appointment they have left for the day is at.............4:00.
I said, "4:00!!!!!!!!! Well, if you had just let me make the appointment when I called at 7:30, I would have a 1:40, with our Doctor. Now my daughter has to lay in my office floor all day because of your office policy of all stomach pain calls having to go through the Triage Nurse, which makes NO SENSE TO ME!!!!!!!!" (Not really with the laying on the office floor line...I was trying to make her ass feel bad. I did bring her to work with me though, because her Dr's office is 5 minutes away from office.)
She told me that I could call the Office Manager. Which, once I got off the phone with Amy, I did. The OM was not at her desk, I really should have calmed down before I left that voice mail. As I am hanging up from leaving my nasty message with the OM, Amy calls back to tell me they have a cancellation at 1:00 and it is with the same DR we would see at 4:00.
Why does everything have to be so freakin' difficult????????????
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Photographer Editta Sherman has lived above Carnegie Hall for more than 60 years. In her home studio, she has photographed some of the most famous names in show business, including Elvis Presley, Cary Grant and Marlon Brando.
Now, Carnegie Hall is asking her to leave. But the self-proclaimed "Duchess of Carnegie Hall" tells Alex Chadwick that she is not leaving her rent-controlled studio without a fight.
"I don't think they can put me out; I'm 97 years old coming up. I only have three years to be 100, and I am still skipping rope and running around; I have no wrinkles on my face," she says. "I'm not going to leave. I don't think it's right that they do this, because I need my skylight."
She says she would not be happy living anywhere else and has agreed to leave only if Carnegie Hall agrees to pay her $10 million. Though this seems like an extravagant number, Sherman insists it is only fair if she has to leave her historical studio.
"It could be less if I want to move, but I'm not going to feel happy about moving out somewhere else," she says. "I've been here that long and people know me by the [name] Duchess of Carnegie Hall."
In 1896, Andrew Carnegie built the famous concert hall and constructed 300 studios for artists to live and work in. The studios boast an array of skylights unique in a city where most people are packed into tiny apartments.
Artists would perform at the hall and come to Sherman's studio to be photographed. To this day Sherman still uses her 100-year-old 8x10 camera, and her famous portraits lie in every corner and on every wall of her space.
Carnegie Hall officials told New York Magazine that they want to renovate the studios to make way for offices and classrooms for young musicians.
"They want to reconstruct the studios, because they don't seem to have enough space for people to come in and do their music and so on," says Sherman.
Ultimately, Sherman says it's not about the space — it's about the memories of artists, musicians and celebrities who have come through her studio.
"Tyrone Power was just crazy about this place and he brought Eva Gabor here one morning," she says. "I can't forget this [place] with Tyrone Power and I feel that he's here."
Original story reported by NPR.com
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Why is it so hard for our 9 year old to sleep alone in her bedroom? She has convinced herself that she cannot sleep alone. Better yet, that she cannot fall asleep alone. So, she lays awake worrying that she will not be able to fall asleep, and that in the morning she will be so tired she will not do well in school. As the minutes pass, the more frustrated she becomes.
We have tried our therapist. We have tried reasoning with her. We have tried bribery. Any suggestions?
Friday, November 07, 2008
Thursday, November 06, 2008
- Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
- He was as tall as a 6′3″ tree.
- Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
- From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
- John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
- She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
- The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
- He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
- Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
- She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
- The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
- The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
- McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
- His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
- He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at asolar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
- Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
- Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
- The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
- Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
- The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
- They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
- He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
- Even in his last years, Grand pappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it hadrusted shut.
- He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose.
- She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.
- She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
- The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
- The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
- “Oh, Jason, take me!” she panted, her breasts heaving like a college freshman on $1-a-beer night.
- It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
- It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
- He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
- The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
- Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
- Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man.”
- The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
- The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
- She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
- Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten, actually.
- Fishing is like waiting for something that does not happen very often.
- They were as good friends as the people on “Friends.”
- Oooo, he smells bad, she thought, as bad as Calvin Klein’s Obsession would smell if it were called Enema and was made from spoiled Spamburgers instead of natural floral fragrances.
- The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.) in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Rep. Henry Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the impeachment of President William Jefferson Clinton.
- He was as bald as one of the Three Stooges, either Curly or Larry, you know, the one who goes woo woo woo.
- The sardines were packed as tight as the coach section of a 747.
- Her eyes were shining like two marbles that someone dropped in mucus and then held up to catch the light.
- The baseball player stepped out of the box and spit like a fountain statue of a Greek god that scratches itself a lot and spits brown, rusty tobacco water and refuses to sign autographs for all the little Greek kids unless they pay him lots of drachmas.
- I felt a nameless dread. Well, there probably is a long German name for it, like Geschpooklichkeit or something, but I don’t speak German. Anyway, it’s a dread that nobody knows the name for, like those little square plastic gizmos that close your bread bags. I don’t know the name for those either.
- She was as unhappy as when someone puts your cake out in the rain, and all the sweet green icing flows down and then you lose the recipe, and on top of that you can’t sing worth a damn.
- Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.
- It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before.
- Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.
- You know how in “Rocky” he prepares for the fight by punching sides of raw beef? Well, yesterday it was as cold as that meat locker he was in.
- The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
- Her lips were red and full, like tubes of blood drawn by an inattentive phlebotomist.
- The sunset displayed rich, spectacular hues like a .jpeg file at 10 percent cyan, 10 percent magenta, 60 percent yellow and 10 percent black.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
The problem you ask?
When we started to work and the daylight hit my 'OMG what a deal Micheal Kors skirt', it was black....NOT brown. How does a skirt look one color in a store and in your house, and another color in the daylight and at work????
I am now sitting at my desk wearing brown shoes with a black skirt. I am not happy. I am so going to Payless at lunch.
(I know what you are thinking..."that fabric looks brown?" NOPE! It is black!!)
The short answer: We used to be a nation of farmers.
The long answer: Congress chose November because the harvest was over and the weather wouldn't be bad enough to prevent people from traveling.
As for Tuesday, people used to have to travel overnight to their polling location. (In 1845, horse was the preferred method of transport.) In an effort to avoid religious days of rest, Congress chose Tuesday, leaving Monday and Wednesday as travel days. Tuesday was voting (and horse-resting) day.
Source: Yahoo! News
Sunday, November 02, 2008
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to others is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken,
because the greatest hazard in life is to do nothing.
The person who risks nothing,
does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes, they are a slave,
they forfeited their freedom.
Only the person who risks can be free.