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HAPPY BIRFDAY [profile] daytonward!!!



Granted, he won't see this here, since he moved over to WordPress, and I don't have a way to cross-post from LJ reliably, so, oh well. And I tried leaving birfday wishes on his wall, except he, like a good number of others on FB, have disabled the ability of others to post on his wall. I sent him a private message instead. There are very few people I would go to such lengths to wish congratulations for surviving another trip round the sun, but, Dayton has always been friendly and free with advice to people like me who toil in the hopes of one day joining the ranks of published authors, so, yeah.

Anyway...

When I got home tonigh, er, last night, Rocky had the little bathroom rug half out of the bathroom, and I could see where he'd thrown up on one corner of it. Mom says he was trying to hide it somewhere. I say he was trying to bring it down to the laundry room. See, the difference between me and Mom is that I don't yell at them for having hairballs or throwing up or whatever. Consequently, I think Rocky was being helpful instead of sneaky. In any event, it's all good.

I think some of my esophagitis and general stomach upset this week is because of stress. Waiting on the car and such. Tomorrow, that should come to an end. And on the eve of getting Cammie back, I've been contemplative on a few things. They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, and I never quite fully understood how much a car is needed for an independent, active lifestyle. Public transportation sucks in Delaware. And if I was as active with dance as I was a few years ago, all of this would have probably ground dance to a halt.

I am very grateful to Mom for sharing her car with me over the last few months so I could run errands, do grocery shopping, pick up my meds, and take care of Rocky when he got sick and his diabetes came back. I am grateful to Rich for bringing me in to work for the last three months and picking me up on certain days so I could go to the chiropractor.

For most of the past three months, I adapted to my circumstances, living around the bus schedule, accepting limitations in being social or disappearing from the house for a little bit. Alas, the living frugally will continue for awhile yet; part of me is crying over the lost progress I've made on my credit card debt, since I'll be not-quite-maxing them out again, but, eh. On the bright side, I'm just looking at another month or so of really tight finances and not at an added bill. I should still be able to pay off Henry's by the end of the year, and probably sooner. I should still be able to replace the windshield by the end of the summer. As is, I've budgeted for meds, food, and gas until the next payday in addition to paying for the transmission. And since I've socked away spare cash, going dancing on Saturday is in the budget.

Back to what I was starting to say about adapting to the bus schedule... The past week or so has found me increasingly frustrated with this particular lifestyle. Nothing has changed, really; I was perfectly okay with things, for the most part, for most of the time I was without Cammie. But ever since I dropped her off at Deltrans, I think having it be so close to when I'd get her back, and I started thinking of all the benefits that would entail, that I realized how much I need a car and how much I adapted my life over the last three months. Not that it happens very often at all, but if someone calls me late at night needing to talk or whatever, I like being able to just hop in the car and go and be helpful. It's important for me to be able to have that ability. Not having to wait on a bus, not having to take extra time off at work for a doctor's appointment, and so on... Little things add up. Even with walking to the bus hub, and from the bus to the house... I realized I've been holding back on my walking at night, keeping enough in reserve to get me home. Normally, after reading time, I'd go for a good walk on campus and get to the car feeling like I'd had a good workout, and it was okay, since I didn't have all that much walking left to do. Also? The shitty suspension on the bus took something out of me in the way of motion sickness and I swear it's why my back has been so bad lately.

At least the timing works out okay. Rich has an infection in his toe/foot, so, with me being able to take myself to work and all, he's free to take care of himself without having to worry about me.

Anyway, here's to new beginnings...

Posted at LiveJournal and Dreamwidth
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It has been a busy few days. Half week. Something like that.

Mom is now Mrs. Magner.

It's a good thing I took Thursday and Friday off. Thursday, I took care of the errands of running to craft shops - Michael's and Joann's - to get stuff pertaining to flowers, decorations, and various other wedding festivities. I also picked up my tux. This might not sound like much, but, given that I'm not super artsy or anything, and being given a list of items I'd never heard of and sent on a seek-and-obtain mission to get them... It's kind of like a commercial scavenger hunt. I've been told that this was a "nice guy" thing to do, as other males would have simply looked askance. On the bright side, I got everything that was needed and managed to get the pew clips for just $1.oo instead of $2.00.

Friday, I dealt with more back issues and spent half the day with an ice pack on my back. I was originally going to deliver the goodie bags to the hotels where out-of-town guests were staying, but, my brother-in-law Scott got roped into that. My brother-in-law is awesome like that. Instead, we just had the rehearsal dinner Friday night. After the dinner, I went out for coffee and quiet time, and when I got home, I had apparently missed the festivities of the bridal attendants who helped finish making the centerpieces and assembling flower stuff. Instead, Mom was busy printing out the programs. Since she had had little sleep the night before, I helped fold them and cut the insert pages and so on. I did what I could to help her get to bed at a decent time in preparation for the next day's events. Except, she couldn't find the tiara hairpiece, and we spent the next hour and a half going through the house looking for it, to no avail. Turns out, it was with the rest of her stuff for her dress at the church.

Because I was up late, I got up a little later than originally planned on Saturday. Mom had already left with the rest of her entourage for hair and make-up. Rich called from down the street to make sure it was safe to come home and get breakfast, which it was. He left to get the lunch sub tray and pick up one of the groomsmen and head to the church. I stayed to grab a shower, make sure all the furkids had food and water, give Rocky his insulin, put the dogs out to go potty, and so on. I should note that the humidity was oppressive, and I was sweating even after my rather cold shower. Also, all the furkids were off the wall. Brigid and Brandon were almost constantly barking, which was excessive even for them. Yoda seemed to be permanently hungry and doing the alarm noise ad nauseum. Rocky was bordering on aggressive and howling more often than usual. Fortunately, I got everyone calmed down enough before I left. Giving Yoda a leftover stuffed shell from the rehearsal dinner seemed to mollify him immensely, and he was then able to call for Rocky and yell at the dogs, which helped get them all under control. Anyway, after the kids were taken care of, I made a pass through the house for anything that might have been forgotten and left for the church.

At the church, I changed into my tux. Of course, the room we had was sweltering. Thankfully, the rest of the church was decently air conditioned. While getting dressed, I helped Paul and Rich with their tuxes. While competitive dancing doesn't need a full tux at the level I danced, and even dance tuxes are different from regular tuxes, I still had done enough shows to know how to take care of bow ties and cuff links and so on. The tux pants we had were adjustable. Of course, I had a broken adjuster. Fortunately, Mandie had safety pins and helped me out.

Then began the busy-ness.

Somehow, I was drafted at random to take care of the boutinears. I found the 'fridge with the flowers in them, snagged my sister to help me figure out who gets what, and began distrubution of flowers. I had barely gotten that done that people started arriving. Got the young ladies set up with the programs and started escorting people to seats. Did what I could remembering who Mom said was to get front-row seats. This has a lot to do with the people who were there for us during some of the shittiest times of the past ten years.

Then the ceremony begins. Or, at least, the processional. They changed, at the last minute, where us groomsmen where entering from, which was neither here nor there, but, anyway. Then the ceremony begins. And fortunately, my sister and I get along rather well these days, so, I see the look of horror slowly crossing her face right before she mouths to me, in front of the pastor and the priest (Rich is Catholic, so, we had two officiants), "Oh shit! I lost the ring!"

You know that sinking feeling you get right when you realized you jumped out of the plane before strapping on your parachute?

So, I start thinking about my options. Do I pass out, let them cart me out of the sanctuary and then spring to life and go look for the ring? No, too dramatic. Sneak out? Might be considered rude. Fake a coughing fit or a bad sneeze? Yeah, that could work, but, let's save that as a last resort. And to note, this was planned to be a short ceremony. I look around me, as there's a piano behind me, some sound equipment off to the side... Maybe there's a coupling or somesuch that could work in a pinch. No such luck. So then it dawns on me that at least two of the other groomsmen are married. I whispered urgently to Nutsy next to me the situation and ask if he has a ring we can borrow. No, he's had problems getting his ring on lately, BUT, he had his father's wedding band on his keychain. Unfortunately, his fingers are still a little too swollen to get it off, so, I got it off, and we passed it down to my sister. Crisis averted. The ring, the "real" ring, was recovered shortly after the ceremony. It fell off of Mandie when she was adjusting Mom's train right before the processional.

After that was the receiving line and becoming borderline germophobic. Thankfully, there were the anti-bacterial hand sanitizer bottles throughout the narthex. After that was getting my Magic Murder Bag (Venture Brother's reference) packed with my clothes, and then pictures. Before the rain. Woot.

Fortunately, the rain stopped by the time we got to the reception, and we had a nice walk-in.

Pictures )

Now, the wonderful people at ThinkGeek.com have dinosaur plushies...



Thanks to internet memes, Mom and Rich have this joke about "I love you this much" with the picture of a T-Rex whose arms aren't very long, and so it doesn't look like very much. So when I got one of my regular e-mails from Think Geek advertising these new plushies, I got two of the T-Rex for Mom and Rich for a wedding present. I figured it would be a cute novelty thing that they'd like and would be better than a picture frame or somesuch.

Turns out, they were a big hit with them. They have been playing with their dinosaurs (curse their sudden and inevitable betrayal!) since I gave them to them. In fact, they had left them with the caterer to put on their sweetheart table (to raised eyebrows). You can even see one of them in one of the pictures above. Anyway, Mom told me that just about everyone, at some point, had come up to their table and asked about the dinosaurs, so, they had to explain the joke about 100 times. Mom says she should have just gotten on the mike and explained. I'm just glad I managed to get them a gift they enjoy, and are still enjoying. Especially when I wasn't expecting it to be such a hit.

Mom and Rich had a nice dance to their song (can't remember the title, but it's by Lady Antebellum). Mom and I danced a Fox Trot to Michael Buble's rendition of "The Best is Yet to Come." Mandie and Rich danced to "Thank Heaven For Little Girls." Then Mandie and I did a Cha Cha/Hustle to some 70s song. That was way too long.

At this point, I need to pat myself on the back while thanking my coaches Lisa Bently and Pete Taylor. They both taught the difference between competitive dancing and performance dancing. Both when dancing with Mom and with my sister, I thankfully knew enough floorcraft to make sure they were the center of attention. Having taught enough dance classes and having a derth of experience working with new dancers, my leading skills are still sharp, though I'm sure my sister felt tossed around a little. But, hey... performance! It was eough to impress pretty much everyone.

As for me? My footwork was atrocious (note to self: NEVER go to a wedding where I know I'll be utilizing my Captain Tango skills without my dance shoes!). My frame was okay and I felt my leading was on par with bludgeoning my partner to go in the right direction. However, again, I am forced to remember what I've been taught about the differences between competitive dancing and performance dancing: In competitive dancing, the judges know the steps and the technique and will grade you on it. In performance dancing, the audience doesn't give a fuck (Pete's words).

They had remarks from the best man and maid (matron?) of honor, which included my sister. She wasn't expecting that part, and the invective she used when she was called up was amusing. Nevertheless, she made a good speech and managed to use our phrase of "putting the 'fun' into 'dysfuntional.'" I don't think I've ever seen her husband, Scott, laugh so hard.

On an aside: I have to say I'm very proud to have Scott as my brother-in-law. He's cool to begin with, and I am glad that he takes care of my sister so well. He helped her where he could, made sure she had something to drink, and so on. After three (or is it four?) years of marriage, and years of dating before that, and he still dotes on her, is something nice to see in this day and age. Such treatment, I think, went a long way to keeping my sister on an even keel throughout. It was a good example of, "It's not her problem, it's our problem to solve." Hence, the support thing.

I think that about covers the reception. Afterwards, we changed and loaded up the cars and trucks and tralers with decorations, gifts, and so on. Managed to get the bulk of the stuff loaded before the clouds opened up again.

To give Mom and Rich some time to themselves, Mandie insisted I stay with her and Scott last night. So, I stopped at the house, gave Rocky his shot, refilled everyone's food and water, packed an overnight bag, and left.

Loki, one of Mandie's cats, who was adopted when she still lived with me and Mom, was taught well by TomTom. He remembers me from when we lived together, and in the same way TomTom would make sure to visit with Mandie when she came over after she'd moved out, Loki makes sure to visit with me whenever I go to my sister's. Anyway, he followed me around while I got set up in her guest room, looking at me funny. "Why are you here? What are you doing? You're not normally over here this late. Why are you sleeping here?"

I slept like the dead, but woke up around 10:30 to the sound of someone going through my stuff. I sat up on the bed, and sure enough, Loki and Lily were rummaging through my book bag and overnight bag. I asked them, "What are you two doing?" And they both looked at me like, "We're um, um, um... We were going to iron your clothes and put your books away for you. Hi. How are you?" This might be off-putting or just plain weird for most people, except, my cats do the same thing, so, yeah. They do better security than the TSA.

In general, I'm glad the wedding went off almost without a hitch. The only hitch being the intended hitch of Mom and Rich getting hitched. I'm glad my sister and I get along well these days, which has been the case since we had to break Mom out of a nursing home three years ago when she got her hip replaced. That helped a lot this weekend with averting possible situations and whatnot.

Posted at LiveJournal and Dreamwidth.
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HAPPY BIRFDAY [personal profile] annietopia!!



Just have a little laundry to finish up, and then the weekend chores are done.

Mom and Rich may have a solution to the wedding flower woes: Costco. In short, they can order flowers from there, then create the centerpieces and such themselves. With help, of course. Good thing I'm already looking ahead and figuring of taking some vacation time around then.

Today has been a lazy day for me. I woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache and esophagitis, coupled with an obligatory panic attack. Took stuff for it, then zonked out. Until noon. Then I took a nap. So, yeah, brain no worky today...

The cloudy/rainy/drizzly/foggy weather doesn't help, either. Though I do get a sense of happiness, or maybe just smugness, that I did get the outdoor Christmas decorations and lights taken down and put away yesterday.

I'm also in a weird headspace to begin with... One of the books I'm reading, My Enemy, My Ally... It's an original series Trek novel by Diane Duane. I've read it twice before, and both times, it was during a rather nasty life-changing crisis. The first time was when Dad had his heart attack back in July of 1989. The second time was when I had to change schools in 1991. I know it's entirely irrational, but since then, I've considered the book to be "cursed" somehow, and even though I enjoyed the story, I've avoided re-reading it. But now, I have a copy on my Kindle. I feel like I need to hurry up and finish reading it before something bad happens rather than to just...enjoy the story.

Again, I know it's entirely irrational. But the events mentioned happened in my early-to-mid teens, and have stuck with me since. One of those irrational childhood things that carry over to adulthood, you know?

Anyway, not much else. Dental cleaning and night guard fitting tomorrow. Mom's birfday next weekend and a three-day weekend. Other than that, it looks to be a fairly quiet week. And since I get paid this week, that also means a trip to CBH. Woot?

Though, when all is said and done, I'll be happy to be a non-sick, normal-ish-feeling human bean.

Comics )
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Semi-quick, worn-out post before bed, in an attempt to alleviate some insomnia...

After receiving advice from several people that I trust that it would be better to just get the damn temporary pass from DMV than risk getting pulled over and having my car impounded, I've decided that tomorrow morning, I'll be making a trip to the DMV and going in to work late and staying late. This is teaching me that there is no such thing as "a little, minor fender-bender." I'm not mad at the person who caused the accident, because, accidents happen. Instead, I'm frustrated at all the bureaucratic bullshit that has accompanied it. The insurance companies have been okay this time around, but... The DMV, shops refusing to work on it because of its age (they don't see it as a classic), manufacturers not updating their inventory to show discontinued parts... All for a stupid lens! For a side marker light that actually works.

I'm also rapidly approaching burnout from all the stuff with the cats. Not that I begrudge them at all. But the multiple vet trips and rechecks on sutures and so on... For example, Rocky needs to go back Tuesday morning for suture removal. They didn't take them out today because his scabs keep getting into the area. So, I need to keep giving him drops and maybe cleaning his face daily. Thing is, he knows how to get the cone off. He uses his hind foot to move the bow knot to the front, then steps on it with his front paws and pulls to undo the knot. However, he hasn't removed or attempted to remove his cone for over a day now. Despite being frustrated with it. Tonight, the cone got caught on the edge of his dinner dish and he flipped the dish. We all take this in stride, get him cleaned up and such. He really is a good kitty, despite the rough patches we had when we first got him. No one can replace TomTom, but TomTom taught Rocky well, and Rocky is doing what he can to fill the role of "hoomin helper."

Riffy is doing okay, though, he's definitely lonely without YoYo. I'm hoping this will help him to decide to rejoin the World Beyond the Door.

Minerva managed to unbuckle her new collar, but was ever so happy when I put it back on her tonight.

The one positive thing about all these trips to the vet for checks and such is that I'm pretty much over associating the drive and the trip with TomTom's and YoYo's final trips. It reaffirms my focus on the living furkids which, I think, is what both TomTom and YoYo would want. TomTom didn't have many issues at all after we got him cleaned up after adopting him, and YoYo would probably remember everything we did for him when he started having urinary tract problems, and both would want the same care given to their siblings and successors.

Mom is still recovering. Moving around a little better today, but...yeah.

The stepgoggies came over early this weekend to make it easier for Rich to stay here with Mom. It's all good. According to Rich, they love coming over here. As he's driving them over, they recognize the way and get really excited the closer they get to here.

Rocky's all happy now. I just cleaned his cone a little from leftover food and such sticking to it.

Anyway, I'm finally feeling a little tired, finally, instead of all wound up. Time for some sleep...

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