Click on the "Sick and Twisted" title for the video
What working in a prison will do to a girl's sense of humor!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Shooting Stars and stained glass
This has been an amazing couple of nights for deep dark starlit nights filled with stars just tumbling from the heavens. Of course, you have to be awake and outside to see all of this, but it is just beautiful! Then I had to get all philosophical and try to wrap my brain around how far it is from where I am to the next star and how far it would be from there to the NEXT star I can't even see (gave up on that--my brain doesn't stretch that far). Then I sidetracked myself off to the concept of life and death and how a shooting star has done both and here I was seeing something that had happened how many thousands of years ago and just now managed to make it into my view? and for how brief of a time? And then how the eternal clock really is different than an Earthly one....which was just too much deep thinking for me.
Driving into work super early yesterday (I had to go into work early to cover the office/pick up Mock for a shoot up in the Tower/get lessons mailed out/finish up my GED social studies unit---which was way more time consuming than I thought). Working in the middle of the bottom of a lake bed, in a huge ag area is always a pleasure, no matter what I say when it is hot.
Something is always going on. Today, most everything is being harvested, so there is a fine film of dust, hovering a foot off the ground.
What isn't being harvested is being tilled back into the ground, getting ready to be planted again. This is big farming and there is very little down time. When I was growing up, we couldn't physically work the ground like this---there just weren't enough of us.
But here, a crop is harvested, tilled up, amended, ripped, planted and the whole cycle starts up again. I'm sure not everyone notices but I do and that's why I like living here in the big flat middle of nowhere.
Driving into work super early yesterday (I had to go into work early to cover the office/pick up Mock for a shoot up in the Tower/get lessons mailed out/finish up my GED social studies unit---which was way more time consuming than I thought). Working in the middle of the bottom of a lake bed, in a huge ag area is always a pleasure, no matter what I say when it is hot.
Something is always going on. Today, most everything is being harvested, so there is a fine film of dust, hovering a foot off the ground.
What isn't being harvested is being tilled back into the ground, getting ready to be planted again. This is big farming and there is very little down time. When I was growing up, we couldn't physically work the ground like this---there just weren't enough of us.
But here, a crop is harvested, tilled up, amended, ripped, planted and the whole cycle starts up again. I'm sure not everyone notices but I do and that's why I like living here in the big flat middle of nowhere.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The one where I test and test and test some more
I'm testing all this week. I ducat a bunch guys and test them in visiting....about 30 at a time for an hour. One bunch comes in, goes out and another comes in. It's a 30 minute math test. If they don't show up, I drop them from my program and they get their recess card yanked.
Harsh, but that's the way of the world.
I have about 200 guys on the waiting list and every one of them is just one assignment and one test away from getting dumped. Miss either one and off you go.
I have about the same number of guys in the SHU just dying to get on the list...and it is tough to even get out there to get them tested. So once they are on the list, they make sure that they get their stuff turned in on time and show up so they don't end up with nothing to do. Getting mail every day is pretty much the only entertainment.
This year, I am hoping to get actual GED testing started out there---they test up in Pelican Bay, where the whole place is the SHU and on lockdown all the time. If they can do it, I can't see why we can't. I can teach circles around anyone in Pelican Bay.
With a sack on my head.
On a bad day.
Harsh, but that's the way of the world.
I have about 200 guys on the waiting list and every one of them is just one assignment and one test away from getting dumped. Miss either one and off you go.
I have about the same number of guys in the SHU just dying to get on the list...and it is tough to even get out there to get them tested. So once they are on the list, they make sure that they get their stuff turned in on time and show up so they don't end up with nothing to do. Getting mail every day is pretty much the only entertainment.
This year, I am hoping to get actual GED testing started out there---they test up in Pelican Bay, where the whole place is the SHU and on lockdown all the time. If they can do it, I can't see why we can't. I can teach circles around anyone in Pelican Bay.
With a sack on my head.
On a bad day.
Friday, September 05, 2008
The one where I get out the graph paper and the tape measure
I need a garage at the hotel. And a veranda on the back. And a place to put the elevator. And a place for the hot tub and a place to hang out the laundry.
Time to get out my #2 pencil.
We own the parking lot. I want some kind of secure fencing that magically opens so I don't have to wrestle with gates. It has to be the non-climbing kind, since I also don't want to come face to face with some gang banger smoking dope on my veranda. Razor wire, anyone?
I'm thinking that the elevator can come up from the parking lot and stop at the back veranda and you can come in the back door. There is a little utility hallway there that I was going to use as a mop room, but I could use the laundry room for my one mop, doncha think? How much mopping do you really think I do? (That would be little to none.)
That way, I could have a guest room in the back (which no one will ever use) and a guest room in the front (which no one will ever use). But it sure makes me look like I am a good hostess and what the heck am I going to do with the rooms anyway? Board them up? I already have the beds.
Anyway, I want a hot tub but I wasn't really crazy about putting it practically on Main Street. If I put it on the back veranda, we can put up lattice (it has to be the squared kind, not the diamond kind) and REALLY have some privacy...not only for the hot tub but also for the laundry on the line and the other untidiness of life. Ooh, maybe I can figure out a trash chute so I never ever have to take out the trash again.
The elevator is in pieces. We bought it from a department store in Maine and had it shipped out. We have pictures of it being taken apart and all the pieces are numbered. I'm pretty sure Mike can get it back together. Sarah's husband is an elevator guy; so is his Dad. They can help. So I'm pretty confident I won't be falling to my death. And it is only two stories. How far is that, anyway? The pulleys and stuff go on top of the shaft, so it's not like we have to excavate a big hole or anything.
Time to get out my #2 pencil.
We own the parking lot. I want some kind of secure fencing that magically opens so I don't have to wrestle with gates. It has to be the non-climbing kind, since I also don't want to come face to face with some gang banger smoking dope on my veranda. Razor wire, anyone?
I'm thinking that the elevator can come up from the parking lot and stop at the back veranda and you can come in the back door. There is a little utility hallway there that I was going to use as a mop room, but I could use the laundry room for my one mop, doncha think? How much mopping do you really think I do? (That would be little to none.)
That way, I could have a guest room in the back (which no one will ever use) and a guest room in the front (which no one will ever use). But it sure makes me look like I am a good hostess and what the heck am I going to do with the rooms anyway? Board them up? I already have the beds.
Anyway, I want a hot tub but I wasn't really crazy about putting it practically on Main Street. If I put it on the back veranda, we can put up lattice (it has to be the squared kind, not the diamond kind) and REALLY have some privacy...not only for the hot tub but also for the laundry on the line and the other untidiness of life. Ooh, maybe I can figure out a trash chute so I never ever have to take out the trash again.
The elevator is in pieces. We bought it from a department store in Maine and had it shipped out. We have pictures of it being taken apart and all the pieces are numbered. I'm pretty sure Mike can get it back together. Sarah's husband is an elevator guy; so is his Dad. They can help. So I'm pretty confident I won't be falling to my death. And it is only two stories. How far is that, anyway? The pulleys and stuff go on top of the shaft, so it's not like we have to excavate a big hole or anything.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
A Red Door for Ben
Ben's house is almost done ...the fireplace gets the finishing touches tomorrow; the shower door goes in; the washer/dryer/fridge gets delivered on Saturday: the final part of the new fence goes up tomorrow morning; the certificate of occupancy gets signed off tomorrow afternoon and he starts the big mooove on Saturday.
And it's paid for as of today.
The doctor's told me that if we could get him to 24, he would be safe. And now that he's 24, he has a house, so that he isn't at the mercy of a landlord. Tank is moving in with him, so he has both a buddy and a watchdog--something those two cats just couldn't manage to be. They are moving in with me, Mike and Rocket. Can't wait to see how THAT is going to turn out. Rocket hates Jackie, so I don't imagine that she is going to be thrilled with Big Head and Baby, nor they with her.
Lisi wrecked her car....well, some unlicensed, uninsured jump-out-the-car-and-run-dude in Dinuba ran into her. The car was insured, but she has a $500 deductible. Lesson #35: always have $500 in the bank if you have a $500 deductible so you can bail your car out of car jail. Just sayin'. Even if it's not your fault. Which it wasn't.
I had this week off and managed to pretty much do nothing except pay bills and drain the koi pond. It is amazing how gunky it gets and how long it takes, even now that I actually have a plan that works. I have a sump pump that drains most of it onto the yard and various flower beds---I have to set a timer and drag the hose all over the yard. Then when it gets down to the bottom, say the last three days of this, I have to put a hose in it to keep washing the gunk into the pump and not end up with a gunk only mess for the fish to be gasping their last in. The last day finds me sitting on the edge of the pond, book in hand with the hose and the broom trying the get the green stuff out and the clean water in, but not at such at crazed rate that my fish drop dead. I've gotten pretty good at it.
I have some pots at the waters edge that I'm going to put some pond plants in this spring. Another project is to get the filter going and put mint in pots in there, on top of the rocks. I'm wrapping the filter in bamboo and putting some ivy or something in baskets this year. The plastic is just to temporary looking. Time for a little change. I have some stone statues and a stone bench I'm going to drag down from the hill and put down by the pond.
The weather is starting to cool off a little, so I am a little more energetic as far as yard work goes. During the really hot summer I am totally useless. It is just no fun for me. Late summer, fall, winter, spring....I'm your girl. Summer? 107? Forget it. That garden better be on life support.
I'll go pick stuff because....well, it would be a sin not to. And it is better than getting into a hot car after work and going to the store, walking up and down the aisles, getting back into a hot car and driving home.
Because God forbid, I go home and then go out. Why? Because I spend ENOUGH time with people and once I am unleashed, I don't want to see anybody anymore. I love my kids. I love my friends. I just don't want to see anybody. That is why I live out in the country. (That is why Marji lives out in the FAR country and I need directions every time I go see her).
And it's paid for as of today.
The doctor's told me that if we could get him to 24, he would be safe. And now that he's 24, he has a house, so that he isn't at the mercy of a landlord. Tank is moving in with him, so he has both a buddy and a watchdog--something those two cats just couldn't manage to be. They are moving in with me, Mike and Rocket. Can't wait to see how THAT is going to turn out. Rocket hates Jackie, so I don't imagine that she is going to be thrilled with Big Head and Baby, nor they with her.
Lisi wrecked her car....well, some unlicensed, uninsured jump-out-the-car-and-run-dude in Dinuba ran into her. The car was insured, but she has a $500 deductible. Lesson #35: always have $500 in the bank if you have a $500 deductible so you can bail your car out of car jail. Just sayin'. Even if it's not your fault. Which it wasn't.
I had this week off and managed to pretty much do nothing except pay bills and drain the koi pond. It is amazing how gunky it gets and how long it takes, even now that I actually have a plan that works. I have a sump pump that drains most of it onto the yard and various flower beds---I have to set a timer and drag the hose all over the yard. Then when it gets down to the bottom, say the last three days of this, I have to put a hose in it to keep washing the gunk into the pump and not end up with a gunk only mess for the fish to be gasping their last in. The last day finds me sitting on the edge of the pond, book in hand with the hose and the broom trying the get the green stuff out and the clean water in, but not at such at crazed rate that my fish drop dead. I've gotten pretty good at it.
I have some pots at the waters edge that I'm going to put some pond plants in this spring. Another project is to get the filter going and put mint in pots in there, on top of the rocks. I'm wrapping the filter in bamboo and putting some ivy or something in baskets this year. The plastic is just to temporary looking. Time for a little change. I have some stone statues and a stone bench I'm going to drag down from the hill and put down by the pond.
The weather is starting to cool off a little, so I am a little more energetic as far as yard work goes. During the really hot summer I am totally useless. It is just no fun for me. Late summer, fall, winter, spring....I'm your girl. Summer? 107? Forget it. That garden better be on life support.
I'll go pick stuff because....well, it would be a sin not to. And it is better than getting into a hot car after work and going to the store, walking up and down the aisles, getting back into a hot car and driving home.
Because God forbid, I go home and then go out. Why? Because I spend ENOUGH time with people and once I am unleashed, I don't want to see anybody anymore. I love my kids. I love my friends. I just don't want to see anybody. That is why I live out in the country. (That is why Marji lives out in the FAR country and I need directions every time I go see her).
Friday, August 15, 2008
Like I do not have enough to worry about
My daughter comes from a short line of risk takers.Me.
My philosophy has pretty well been why participate in a sport if there isn't a really high percentage risk factor that you will break something. Or maybe kill yourself. Or get eaten. Like:
swimming with sharks
Sticking your hand in holes
jumping off cliffs
rappelling off cliffs
skiing down slopes that are obviously beyond your skilll level
hang gliding
or my favorite-going on a road trip with no map and only the vaguest idea of where you are going (like, oh Central America-ish)
and other dangerous crap I have forgotten.
So Lisi (who is a cop) tells me in that bye the bye manner of a person JUST LIKE ME that last weekend she went cliff diving.
WTF?
Cliff diving?
You can break your neck doing stuff like that.
Did she check to see how deep it was?
Nope. It looked deep enough.
Other people were doing it.
It looked both scary AND fun. She forgot the break your neck and be a para/quadrplegic for the rest of your life part. It probably slipped her mind. If it had even CROSSED it.
Well, I know that feeling. I have it every day at work, when I trot out to see the new generation of Hannibal Lectors.
Rock on, Lisi. Enjoy it now because one day, it might possibly catch up with you. Or not. Depends. Then you will look at stuff, oh, say men's gymnastics on the the rings and think to yourself "Man! That looks rough on a rotator cuff!" Or watch the girls go flying thru the air, only to whomp on the mat with their teeny tiny ankles and think "Man, that is going to hurt one day."
Gravity and mortality.
Quite a heavy burden to drag around.
I think I need some Butterfingers to get me through this.
A great big box of them and I am going to hide them at work.
Because sometimes that is the only thing that helps.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
The one where I meet my clerks
They are both stone killers for hire with parole dates 70 years from now. Very good with paper and very organized. My yard office is miked and has a camera- a first for me, which just serves as a reminder that these guys need to be watched and closely.
I have a main office where I spend part of the time, where my computer and high volume copier is. I do all the copy work myself, so I know that no one is doing unauthorized copies for inmates out on the yard.
The clerks and I work on grading and stuffing mail outs in the office located on the yard, where I have a classroom so I can test and tutor guys on the yard. All my students have jobs, so they have to fit me in during the day. Some of them work out in the dairy or in the Prison Industries, so I try to pick them up after their shift.
I go out to the SHU once a week and test there. I hate going to the SHU. The guys are one step past Hannibal Lector and just give me the creeps. The upside of the SHU is that since I am pure entertainment, they are usually very good and respectful-because if they scare me, I won't call them back out.
I'm working on a new program called GED Express, which is self paced, self taught and takes about six month to complete. If a student honestly works it, they can pass the GED test. If they just fool around....well, it gives them something to do, I guess.
I have a main office where I spend part of the time, where my computer and high volume copier is. I do all the copy work myself, so I know that no one is doing unauthorized copies for inmates out on the yard.
The clerks and I work on grading and stuffing mail outs in the office located on the yard, where I have a classroom so I can test and tutor guys on the yard. All my students have jobs, so they have to fit me in during the day. Some of them work out in the dairy or in the Prison Industries, so I try to pick them up after their shift.
I go out to the SHU once a week and test there. I hate going to the SHU. The guys are one step past Hannibal Lector and just give me the creeps. The upside of the SHU is that since I am pure entertainment, they are usually very good and respectful-because if they scare me, I won't call them back out.
I'm working on a new program called GED Express, which is self paced, self taught and takes about six month to complete. If a student honestly works it, they can pass the GED test. If they just fool around....well, it gives them something to do, I guess.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Look what I found over at Shrinky Inky's
You can tell when I am stuck in my knitting.
#40E0D0 |
Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well. Your saturation level is higher than average - You know what you want, but sometimes know not to tell everyone. You value accomplishments and know you can get the job done, so don't be afraid to run out and make things happen. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything. |
Saturday, August 02, 2008
The one where my prison is on MSNBC
They were at CSP-Corcoran for what seemed like months, but I guess they were only there for about five weeks. My personal opinion was that they had story lines in place and just needed to find inmates that fit, to make good television.
This first installment of a six part series is called Corcoran: Extended Stay: Love and Hate
Yep. It is violent, just like it shows. We search all the time. Inmates sometimes don't identify assailants because they don't KNOW the assailant. Of course, prison politics being what they are, if they do know the attacker, they aren't going to rat him out. However, watching the way the races interact is exactly what we do...even in the classroom. We watch for body language and we watch for individual "tells". I like to think I can spot a liar because I can see the flash of a tell, no matter how good they are, mainly because most inmates underestimate me.
SNY is commonly called the Sensitive Needs Yard, but it is a Security Needs Yard. The inmates assigned to this yard are gay, convicted of skin crimes or jumped out of a gang. Oddly, EVERY SINGLE ONE of them will say that they are gang drop outs. Baloney. (And I've never heard a gang called a "car". Ever.)
THE HOLE. We call the SHU and AdSeg the hole. both of them are 23/7 lockdown. AdSeg is a little less severe with less time--sort of a time out while we sort things out. The SHU...well you get a SHU term. Freddie Wanted Dead or Alive (a former kinder of mine) has done a number of SHU terms. So has Hismael (not his real name). They get sent to the SHU for being bad bad very bad.
IGI...Garcia was my BEST training cop!I worked with him for maybe three straight years. I still can call him and ask him anything. IGI is always busy checking, searching, listening,reading. I can tell you that if ANY inmate says "to tell you the truth" or "honestly" is probably lying.
FYI, I worked on the dayroom floor on a different yard for a year. I really liked it but it was also much more of a security issue. You can see how wide open it is.
This first installment of a six part series is called Corcoran: Extended Stay: Love and Hate
Yep. It is violent, just like it shows. We search all the time. Inmates sometimes don't identify assailants because they don't KNOW the assailant. Of course, prison politics being what they are, if they do know the attacker, they aren't going to rat him out. However, watching the way the races interact is exactly what we do...even in the classroom. We watch for body language and we watch for individual "tells". I like to think I can spot a liar because I can see the flash of a tell, no matter how good they are, mainly because most inmates underestimate me.
SNY is commonly called the Sensitive Needs Yard, but it is a Security Needs Yard. The inmates assigned to this yard are gay, convicted of skin crimes or jumped out of a gang. Oddly, EVERY SINGLE ONE of them will say that they are gang drop outs. Baloney. (And I've never heard a gang called a "car". Ever.)
THE HOLE. We call the SHU and AdSeg the hole. both of them are 23/7 lockdown. AdSeg is a little less severe with less time--sort of a time out while we sort things out. The SHU...well you get a SHU term. Freddie Wanted Dead or Alive (a former kinder of mine) has done a number of SHU terms. So has Hismael (not his real name). They get sent to the SHU for being bad bad very bad.
IGI...Garcia was my BEST training cop!I worked with him for maybe three straight years. I still can call him and ask him anything. IGI is always busy checking, searching, listening,reading. I can tell you that if ANY inmate says "to tell you the truth" or "honestly" is probably lying.
FYI, I worked on the dayroom floor on a different yard for a year. I really liked it but it was also much more of a security issue. You can see how wide open it is.
The one where I put my computer together
Why do computers have so many cords? Why is it possible for me to put every single one of the cords in every conceivable way but the right way? Rhetorical, since there is only one way for a phone charger to fit into the cell phone. It always takes me two tries to get it to fit. Okay, sometimes three.
So I am trying to hook up my computer and I know for a fact I have all the cords, since I'm the one who took it apart and taped all the cords to the printer, which brings up yet ANOTHER question. WHY is my printer so huge?
So I finally get all the cords except one connected (one disappeared. I hope it's not vital.) Then I have to crawl under my desk and find the plug for the surge protector to go in. So I am lying there on the dirty floor and thinking about people on a chatboard I frequent who often mention about how teachers do no manual labor. I have just moved hundreds of boxes that I packed. I have moved hundreds of pieces of furniture. I've loaded trucks. I've off loaded trucks. And that's just HERE.
So I'm lying there wondering how long I could lie there before someone noticed me. All day probably. And the floor is filthy. When Oscar Madison gets her junk put away, I am going to have Hismael (NHRN) and Freddie Wanted Dead or Alive strip it and wax it. This new office area is altogether far too dirty to not be a barn.
So I am trying to hook up my computer and I know for a fact I have all the cords, since I'm the one who took it apart and taped all the cords to the printer, which brings up yet ANOTHER question. WHY is my printer so huge?
So I finally get all the cords except one connected (one disappeared. I hope it's not vital.) Then I have to crawl under my desk and find the plug for the surge protector to go in. So I am lying there on the dirty floor and thinking about people on a chatboard I frequent who often mention about how teachers do no manual labor. I have just moved hundreds of boxes that I packed. I have moved hundreds of pieces of furniture. I've loaded trucks. I've off loaded trucks. And that's just HERE.
So I'm lying there wondering how long I could lie there before someone noticed me. All day probably. And the floor is filthy. When Oscar Madison gets her junk put away, I am going to have Hismael (NHRN) and Freddie Wanted Dead or Alive strip it and wax it. This new office area is altogether far too dirty to not be a barn.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The one where I have to share an office
I haven't shared an office for oh, maybe 35 years. Maybe longer. But I'm finding that I don't much like it.
I like my work space a certain way. Tidy, clean. Mainly tidy.
My office mate?
Not so much.
I have TWO boxes.
She has EIGHTY.
EIGHTY.
None of them are put away.
She has an equal pile of junk that isn't even contained in boxes (we ran out).
I am so not happy.
However, if you just happen to mosey past my office, you only see my little bit of it.
Not the mess.
I feel like the Odd part of the Odd Couple.
I like my work space a certain way. Tidy, clean. Mainly tidy.
My office mate?
Not so much.
I have TWO boxes.
She has EIGHTY.
EIGHTY.
None of them are put away.
She has an equal pile of junk that isn't even contained in boxes (we ran out).
I am so not happy.
However, if you just happen to mosey past my office, you only see my little bit of it.
Not the mess.
I feel like the Odd part of the Odd Couple.
Monday, July 28, 2008
They don't call Topamax Dopamax for nothing
I am not a fan of Topomax, mainly because it can make a person stupid. I've tried it a LOT of times and it has made me really stupid. Really fast.
I did mention, oh....about 50 times that it makes me really stupid and my doctor, Dr. Big Shot told me I'd be dandy if I just started slow and low.
I've heard that before and from more guys than just him.
Doctors for some reason think maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. I mention it REALLY strongly and they always say oh, whoever prescribed it didn't start me off low and slow enough. Believe me, any lower and slower, I wouldn't be talking it at all. I'd be taking it next week.
So I started low and slow...just like he told me to and this morning I got lost on the way to work.
I turned right instead of left and ended up on 13th instead of 10 1/2. (There are no signs out in the back of beyond. You just have know how to get to where you are going.)
So I had NO idea where I was. No idea where I came from either (told you this stuff makes you stupid).
I managed to get back on the road I was on (it doesn't have a name, either) and thought to myself, "Ogden. I'm going to Ogden." (I am nowhere NEAR Ogden.)
As I'm going past the big barn off the road, I know I'm supposed to turn where the Budweiser sign used to be seven years ago but out here in Boswell-land, there are no signs, no street names and the only landmarks are crops and it is harvest time right now, so the hay bales that were in the fields yesterday are gone today.
There are two huge prisons out here and I'm not real sure at this point which one I'm supposed to go. No worries!
I'll go to eenie meanie mine-y-mo and pick this one. If I'm wrong, they won't let me in and then somebody in charge will look at my badge and figure out where the heck I'm supposed to be and call them up to fetch me.
No worries.
Oh, I eventually sorted it all out. I picked the right one. When I got into the check in, they let me in. I recognized the door to my office. We were moving, so it was all topsie turvy anyway. I spent most of the day watching inmates strip the floors and move stuff. It was sort of like grown up recess.
My new office isn't ready yet. Maybe tomorrow. Or not. I only have a desktop and a box and I'm not even real sure what my new job even is.
Probably pretty apt, doncha think?
I did mention, oh....about 50 times that it makes me really stupid and my doctor, Dr. Big Shot told me I'd be dandy if I just started slow and low.
I've heard that before and from more guys than just him.
Doctors for some reason think maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. I mention it REALLY strongly and they always say oh, whoever prescribed it didn't start me off low and slow enough. Believe me, any lower and slower, I wouldn't be talking it at all. I'd be taking it next week.
So I started low and slow...just like he told me to and this morning I got lost on the way to work.
I turned right instead of left and ended up on 13th instead of 10 1/2. (There are no signs out in the back of beyond. You just have know how to get to where you are going.)
So I had NO idea where I was. No idea where I came from either (told you this stuff makes you stupid).
I managed to get back on the road I was on (it doesn't have a name, either) and thought to myself, "Ogden. I'm going to Ogden." (I am nowhere NEAR Ogden.)
As I'm going past the big barn off the road, I know I'm supposed to turn where the Budweiser sign used to be seven years ago but out here in Boswell-land, there are no signs, no street names and the only landmarks are crops and it is harvest time right now, so the hay bales that were in the fields yesterday are gone today.
There are two huge prisons out here and I'm not real sure at this point which one I'm supposed to go. No worries!
I'll go to eenie meanie mine-y-mo and pick this one. If I'm wrong, they won't let me in and then somebody in charge will look at my badge and figure out where the heck I'm supposed to be and call them up to fetch me.
No worries.
Oh, I eventually sorted it all out. I picked the right one. When I got into the check in, they let me in. I recognized the door to my office. We were moving, so it was all topsie turvy anyway. I spent most of the day watching inmates strip the floors and move stuff. It was sort of like grown up recess.
My new office isn't ready yet. Maybe tomorrow. Or not. I only have a desktop and a box and I'm not even real sure what my new job even is.
Probably pretty apt, doncha think?
Saturday, July 26, 2008
How a BAD THING can be a very good thing indeed
My son has autism and schizophrenia. It is a long, involved and mainly scarey story that is mostly in the distant past. He is fine now. Well, SSI fine.
He has his issues.
He volunteers at the local mental health center 40 hours a week and at the end of the week is pretty much peopled out. Mike and I are in high people careers, so we understand exactly how he feels. That's why we leave town on the weekends and don;t even leave the yard.
When we are gone, Ben goes over to our house and in exchange for the cable and the a/c and the computer, he cleans up the kitchen, puts away the laundry, remakes my bed (I manage to get the laundry DONE, folded/sorted/hung...just not put away). He cleans up the counters and vacuumns. Makes sure the dogs have water. Watches tv. Surfs the internet. It is a good trade for all of us.
I leave food in the fridge and he makes sure that it is all cleaned out by the time I get home on Sunday, so when I take him home, I can stop at the market for the week.
Works for all of us.
He has his issues.
He volunteers at the local mental health center 40 hours a week and at the end of the week is pretty much peopled out. Mike and I are in high people careers, so we understand exactly how he feels. That's why we leave town on the weekends and don;t even leave the yard.
When we are gone, Ben goes over to our house and in exchange for the cable and the a/c and the computer, he cleans up the kitchen, puts away the laundry, remakes my bed (I manage to get the laundry DONE, folded/sorted/hung...just not put away). He cleans up the counters and vacuumns. Makes sure the dogs have water. Watches tv. Surfs the internet. It is a good trade for all of us.
I leave food in the fridge and he makes sure that it is all cleaned out by the time I get home on Sunday, so when I take him home, I can stop at the market for the week.
Works for all of us.
Weekend at the frog pond
The nice thing about knitting so slowly is that the skill set kicks in and I actually DO learn something. I've figured out the 9 million mistakes I made on the back of this sweater I'm making my husband, so I'm ripping the entire back out, clear back to the ribbing and trying a new tack. The pattern I'm using (in the most casual sense of the word) is one I've made up myself.
The actual goal of knitting is to make the garment fit the wearer...instead of the other way around.
And knitting is really simple math (counting), two sticks and some string, I would THINK that since I have an MA in Math (la di dah...don't get too impressed..no one at the bank is, which tells you about my counting ability), I could manage this.
Of course, I have a deep seated problem with doing that gauge/swatch stuff AND counting (it will take me maybe six weeks to accurately cast on anything).
So I've taken measurements of several sweaters that he likes, plus the shirt pattern that I drafted, plus the sweatshirts he likes....figured out the commonality of the measurements and drew up a schematic. Most people are not symmetrical and Mike is no exception. That little detail gets taken care of by increasing in mid fabric to seamlessly and all but invisibly tend to that. It's the opposite of darts in sewing, if that makes sense.
Lisi has the opposite problem...petite and multiple darts. Lots of invisible ribbing, with skinny yarns, so the ribbing is even less apparent..
The actual goal of knitting is to make the garment fit the wearer...instead of the other way around.
And knitting is really simple math (counting), two sticks and some string, I would THINK that since I have an MA in Math (la di dah...don't get too impressed..no one at the bank is, which tells you about my counting ability), I could manage this.
Of course, I have a deep seated problem with doing that gauge/swatch stuff AND counting (it will take me maybe six weeks to accurately cast on anything).
So I've taken measurements of several sweaters that he likes, plus the shirt pattern that I drafted, plus the sweatshirts he likes....figured out the commonality of the measurements and drew up a schematic. Most people are not symmetrical and Mike is no exception. That little detail gets taken care of by increasing in mid fabric to seamlessly and all but invisibly tend to that. It's the opposite of darts in sewing, if that makes sense.
Lisi has the opposite problem...petite and multiple darts. Lots of invisible ribbing, with skinny yarns, so the ribbing is even less apparent..
Friday, July 25, 2008
I am DELETING bookmarks at 0200
I bookmark everything that catches my interest in the least.
Then of course, I either never go back and look at it, can;t find it or if I do find it, can;t for the life of me understand what possessed me to bookmark it.
So I am purging in a big way. A bookmark absolutely has to make the cut (as in NOT being part of the world wide waste of time). A new favorite is PIONEER WOMAN....she does photo shop stuff, which of course would be cause for me to have my head stuck in the computer because I actually would be learning a skill set.
Skill set. New catch phrase at the prison. Not to be confused with skill saw.
I finally found out from Bobby the Bug Guy why all these moves are taking place (during the absolutely hottest part of the 9th ring of hell). The departments are far flung. Supervisors can't keep an eye on us. Well, duh. That's why I liked working out behind work change. EVERYONE left me alone. Now that we are making an obscene amount of money, Sacramento wants to make sure that someone is watching me all day long to make sure they are getting their money's worth.
Probably not. Or maybe. Depends on whether we have air conditioning. The A/C units we have right now look like something on Serenity, with the cool air coming out of these big dryer ducts. By big, I mean big enough for me to stick my whole head in and gasp in the cold air. I guess you had to be there. I looked like I was freebasing at Richard Pryor's house. And if you have to ask, you are just too young to know.
Now I will be in the back of beyond, but in the Borg. I guess Glenda and I will have to make a cute sign that says
Glenda.....In...Out....Out and About on 3A/3B/3C/SHU/PHU/ACH/LEV 1/Admin/Litagations
Chloe.......In...Out
Glenda gets out more than I do.
I have a TON of GED packets that I want to scan (I have yet to figure out this scanning skill set) so that it is in my computer and I can just conjure up a set, instead of frantically attempting to FIND the last set known to man. I do have 30 tutors who have to have timecards turned in every month (two different kinds...I don't know). That is the bulk of my job. I have a clerk who is doing three 35 year terms for murder. He was a paid assassin. Not near as cool as Mr. and Mrs. Smith or even Gross Point Blank. Because of course, this was REAL LIFE, as opposed to the movies.
Union meeting last night and no, I didn;t go. They are a bunch of holering screamers and I figure i FUND them....I don;t have to listen to them. O'Dd was there and was pontificating this morning about people who expect the union to represent them but are unwilling to support the union.
Up goes the finger.
"Do not EVER attempt to tell ME how I am to spend MY evenings. I pay dearly for the union. And if I could,instead, send it to Dakfur Charities, I would. I went out on strike for THREE WEEKS with a baby on my hip. So do not EVER attempt to tell me how I am supposed to aupport my union. I think at $160/month.....that is support enough."
O'Ddd was speechless and whirled out.
I will probably catch hell for it at some point. Like I care.
I got written up (first time in eight years) over ONE cell in my report. Actaully 2 cells. I had charged off some missing student time to custody (I charge custody every chance I get...it is usually their fault anyway) and it should have been charged to EDUCATION. (B FAT D). Let me see...how many cells do I have in a month? 10 x 30 =300 x 60=1800....and I get written up for screwing up. TWO. CELLS.
I must be making more money than I thought.
Well, actually, I am. I got a note in the mail the other day and oopsie...they had misfigured my credits, of which I have a gazillion. And then I get extra money for all my language tests. And my gun stuff. And my hostage stuff. (Believe me. If they resort to giving me a gun and having me do the hostage stuff? The world as we kow it is over. Dig a hole.) SO they were going to have to figure out how big of a screw up they had made since last August and send me a check. Someday here pretty soon.
I celebrated by filling my car up with gas.
Then of course, I either never go back and look at it, can;t find it or if I do find it, can;t for the life of me understand what possessed me to bookmark it.
So I am purging in a big way. A bookmark absolutely has to make the cut (as in NOT being part of the world wide waste of time). A new favorite is PIONEER WOMAN....she does photo shop stuff, which of course would be cause for me to have my head stuck in the computer because I actually would be learning a skill set.
Skill set. New catch phrase at the prison. Not to be confused with skill saw.
I finally found out from Bobby the Bug Guy why all these moves are taking place (during the absolutely hottest part of the 9th ring of hell). The departments are far flung. Supervisors can't keep an eye on us. Well, duh. That's why I liked working out behind work change. EVERYONE left me alone. Now that we are making an obscene amount of money, Sacramento wants to make sure that someone is watching me all day long to make sure they are getting their money's worth.
Probably not. Or maybe. Depends on whether we have air conditioning. The A/C units we have right now look like something on Serenity, with the cool air coming out of these big dryer ducts. By big, I mean big enough for me to stick my whole head in and gasp in the cold air. I guess you had to be there. I looked like I was freebasing at Richard Pryor's house. And if you have to ask, you are just too young to know.
Now I will be in the back of beyond, but in the Borg. I guess Glenda and I will have to make a cute sign that says
Glenda.....In...Out....Out and About on 3A/3B/3C/SHU/PHU/ACH/LEV 1/Admin/Litagations
Chloe.......In...Out
Glenda gets out more than I do.
I have a TON of GED packets that I want to scan (I have yet to figure out this scanning skill set) so that it is in my computer and I can just conjure up a set, instead of frantically attempting to FIND the last set known to man. I do have 30 tutors who have to have timecards turned in every month (two different kinds...I don't know). That is the bulk of my job. I have a clerk who is doing three 35 year terms for murder. He was a paid assassin. Not near as cool as Mr. and Mrs. Smith or even Gross Point Blank. Because of course, this was REAL LIFE, as opposed to the movies.
Union meeting last night and no, I didn;t go. They are a bunch of holering screamers and I figure i FUND them....I don;t have to listen to them. O'Dd was there and was pontificating this morning about people who expect the union to represent them but are unwilling to support the union.
Up goes the finger.
"Do not EVER attempt to tell ME how I am to spend MY evenings. I pay dearly for the union. And if I could,instead, send it to Dakfur Charities, I would. I went out on strike for THREE WEEKS with a baby on my hip. So do not EVER attempt to tell me how I am supposed to aupport my union. I think at $160/month.....that is support enough."
O'Ddd was speechless and whirled out.
I will probably catch hell for it at some point. Like I care.
I got written up (first time in eight years) over ONE cell in my report. Actaully 2 cells. I had charged off some missing student time to custody (I charge custody every chance I get...it is usually their fault anyway) and it should have been charged to EDUCATION. (B FAT D). Let me see...how many cells do I have in a month? 10 x 30 =300 x 60=1800....and I get written up for screwing up. TWO. CELLS.
I must be making more money than I thought.
Well, actually, I am. I got a note in the mail the other day and oopsie...they had misfigured my credits, of which I have a gazillion. And then I get extra money for all my language tests. And my gun stuff. And my hostage stuff. (Believe me. If they resort to giving me a gun and having me do the hostage stuff? The world as we kow it is over. Dig a hole.) SO they were going to have to figure out how big of a screw up they had made since last August and send me a check. Someday here pretty soon.
I celebrated by filling my car up with gas.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
I love my job...except I'm not sure what it is
I love working at the prison. I love most of the people I work with. Even the really crazy ones...well, let's just say I can usually see a hot mess of crazy and not think it's me.
So we are moving over to the back of beyond, about TWO MILES from the parking lot down a cement alley we call main street that is back by cement buildings. So we are all packing up our offices (I am #8) and moving over to the old upholstery shop so the guys at the BoB can move into our offices and then we can move into their vacated space. Sound simple?
Except half the people moving are tied up in super duper high security something else, so many somebody elses have to pack for them. (I've moved people out of offices and set them back up elsewhere....and it is always just a little awkward to see what kind of junk people keep in their in boxes. Messy.)
So yesterday, I asked my first line supervisor exactly WHAT THE HECK he was planning for me to be doing? (Always just ask. Much quicker that way.) He said he didn't know. So when I saw HIS boss in the parking lot, I asked him. He said he didn't know.
I did not believe either one of them, since it is impossible for me to be going in to work every day with no apparent assignment for apparently the next 300 days. (Well, 600 days, if you count all the holidays and vacations and weekends. Immaterial.)
So today, a scant 24 hours after being today that neither one of them had any idea what i would be doing, I got a memo telling me that I would be sharing an office with Glenda. Huh. Glenda told me LAST WEEK that we were going to be sharing an office.
However, I still have no clue what I'm going to do. I thought I was going to be doing some kind of GED thing, but Frank told me that today HE was doing the GED thing. Plus, we've hired three new teachers....and where the heck they are going to put them is beyond me. Unless, of course, I'm in the line for a medical retirement (hello, 90%!).
So tomorrow, I'm borrowing some thugs to drag my stuff over to the old upholstery shop and then "draw" a line around it in masking tape and mark everything with a big "8" so that on Friday, different thugs can move my #8 stuff into my new #8 office. With three windows.
The view? Two hallways.
Of course, the office I really wanted has that one way mirrored stuff on the windows and doors. Much more entertaining.
So we are moving over to the back of beyond, about TWO MILES from the parking lot down a cement alley we call main street that is back by cement buildings. So we are all packing up our offices (I am #8) and moving over to the old upholstery shop so the guys at the BoB can move into our offices and then we can move into their vacated space. Sound simple?
Except half the people moving are tied up in super duper high security something else, so many somebody elses have to pack for them. (I've moved people out of offices and set them back up elsewhere....and it is always just a little awkward to see what kind of junk people keep in their in boxes. Messy.)
So yesterday, I asked my first line supervisor exactly WHAT THE HECK he was planning for me to be doing? (Always just ask. Much quicker that way.) He said he didn't know. So when I saw HIS boss in the parking lot, I asked him. He said he didn't know.
I did not believe either one of them, since it is impossible for me to be going in to work every day with no apparent assignment for apparently the next 300 days. (Well, 600 days, if you count all the holidays and vacations and weekends. Immaterial.)
So today, a scant 24 hours after being today that neither one of them had any idea what i would be doing, I got a memo telling me that I would be sharing an office with Glenda. Huh. Glenda told me LAST WEEK that we were going to be sharing an office.
However, I still have no clue what I'm going to do. I thought I was going to be doing some kind of GED thing, but Frank told me that today HE was doing the GED thing. Plus, we've hired three new teachers....and where the heck they are going to put them is beyond me. Unless, of course, I'm in the line for a medical retirement (hello, 90%!).
So tomorrow, I'm borrowing some thugs to drag my stuff over to the old upholstery shop and then "draw" a line around it in masking tape and mark everything with a big "8" so that on Friday, different thugs can move my #8 stuff into my new #8 office. With three windows.
The view? Two hallways.
Of course, the office I really wanted has that one way mirrored stuff on the windows and doors. Much more entertaining.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Good news about goals
I am almost debt free. I have just a couple of credit cards which will be paid off (and shredded) by August 2. I use them on line, so it's not like I NEED to have them in my handbag. They email me the bills and I pay them.
So on September 2, my check will belong to me me me. Well, me and toys for the dogs, grooming for Rocket, my toes, my nails, my hair.....clothes, shoes, yarn, books......anything I think of to purchase for my Girlie and anything I can think of to purchase for my Boy-o who will be living in his own house by then. Maybe a year long bus pass? He has all the kitchen/bath/house stuff he needs, except for one of those automatic water-ers for the dog.
This is a little 2 bedroom house and the front bedroom? he is putting up an extra twin bed we have so that Lisi can come visit. Maybe he and I will go thrift store shopping and get the curtains and spread and stuff...new pillows, though.
We have figured out the BEST thing for good storage and a nice night stand, too. Target has these stackable drawers for shoes, underwear, etc. Two together, topped with a plywood round and a round tablecloth makes for a really nice night stand. (You can keep canceled checks or important papers in the drawers. Whatever.
At the foot of said twin bed will be one of my trucks, where extra blankets/sheets/towels are stored. Too cool for school.
My friend Nusan gave him her wrought iron pool fence, which is now his front fence. The glass shop guy (who thinks that although Ben could be a bum, he's not) gave us all the windows from a job where the people paid and then just left the deal, Happens a lot in construction. That's how I got my super duper jacuzzi wow bath tub for the hotel. People ordered it (paid the contractor's price) and the skipped out of the deal. And there he is, stuck with this super duper jet ski bath tub no one wants. And there we are, looking for a super duper jet ski bath tub.
Anyway, we also have a customer call who just bought a brand new never been lived in house for $200K (with prices the way they are, it is probably a $500K house).
His wife hates the kitchen. So we are tearing out a perfectly brand new, maple cabinet, CORIAN COUNTERED, dishwasher/stove/fridge so she can have the kind Kelly Ripka has. In the meantime, Ben will have what she had.
Doesn't this work great? Of course, I still have two pieces of molding missing in MY house. 13 years now.
Do I complain? Nope.
I have kitchen drawers that have popped off their rails. Do I complain? Nope. I need new grout everywhere and you better believe I am keeping my mouth shut about THAT because I re-grouted EVERYTHING in Florida. It is seriously not a job for me. A moron could do it and by the time I DID do it, not only had I worn off all the polish on my fingers and toes, I thought maybe I WAS a moron.
So we figure that the real estate market will come back up one day....it always does....and then we will do a little repairs (cover everything and shoot the entire interior with Navajo White) but leave the big stuff....like painting the outside and ripping out the white carpet as a sale deduction. Everyone knows that they aren't going to rip out the carpet but we all pretend that that is going to happen. And guess who is the only company in the county who will scrape/repair/repaint these old wooden Victorians? That would be us. And who do you think even knows how to rebuild screens for all these old windows? Right again!
I need to write a note to the yard guy and have him start putting the grass clippings into the garden boxes. Then you nail on lattice and plant one thing in each square.....say one squash plant in the squash box or one melon plant in the melon box. I have these wooden towers that settle right in the middle so stuff can grow up and non of the fruit lays on the wet ground. It looks wonderful and lush.
I'm ripping out all of the 128 rose bushes from the house my mother rented from us and put them over here. THAT will fill up the front. Well, not ME. I'm not actually doing it. I THOUGHT of it. Pete's doing it. He thinks it will look great. He calls this an estate and tells customers that he works at this big estate on the edge of town. He comes over ever week and mows or weeds or something. Now mind you, there is always just enough little stuff that I can do so I don;t feel totally useless. But nothing more than about 30 minutes....because I have that 30 yard over at the coast I have to worry about.
I'm wrapping the filter for the koi pond with a bamboo shade and hanging flat sided planters over the edge. Each one will be filled with mint (impossible to kill) and will have a little aquarium tube from the filter into the planters, so it is always damp. And my fish! My 2,000 fish barely make a dent in this pond....and some of them are as big as my hand. I have huge frogs, too....so no bugs in my backyard.
Notice that most of this work can be accomplished in one afternoon.....and I will be spending more time buying the stuff than actually DOING it?
My kind of farming.
So on September 2, my check will belong to me me me. Well, me and toys for the dogs, grooming for Rocket, my toes, my nails, my hair.....clothes, shoes, yarn, books......anything I think of to purchase for my Girlie and anything I can think of to purchase for my Boy-o who will be living in his own house by then. Maybe a year long bus pass? He has all the kitchen/bath/house stuff he needs, except for one of those automatic water-ers for the dog.
This is a little 2 bedroom house and the front bedroom? he is putting up an extra twin bed we have so that Lisi can come visit. Maybe he and I will go thrift store shopping and get the curtains and spread and stuff...new pillows, though.
We have figured out the BEST thing for good storage and a nice night stand, too. Target has these stackable drawers for shoes, underwear, etc. Two together, topped with a plywood round and a round tablecloth makes for a really nice night stand. (You can keep canceled checks or important papers in the drawers. Whatever.
At the foot of said twin bed will be one of my trucks, where extra blankets/sheets/towels are stored. Too cool for school.
My friend Nusan gave him her wrought iron pool fence, which is now his front fence. The glass shop guy (who thinks that although Ben could be a bum, he's not) gave us all the windows from a job where the people paid and then just left the deal, Happens a lot in construction. That's how I got my super duper jacuzzi wow bath tub for the hotel. People ordered it (paid the contractor's price) and the skipped out of the deal. And there he is, stuck with this super duper jet ski bath tub no one wants. And there we are, looking for a super duper jet ski bath tub.
Anyway, we also have a customer call who just bought a brand new never been lived in house for $200K (with prices the way they are, it is probably a $500K house).
His wife hates the kitchen. So we are tearing out a perfectly brand new, maple cabinet, CORIAN COUNTERED, dishwasher/stove/fridge so she can have the kind Kelly Ripka has. In the meantime, Ben will have what she had.
Doesn't this work great? Of course, I still have two pieces of molding missing in MY house. 13 years now.
Do I complain? Nope.
I have kitchen drawers that have popped off their rails. Do I complain? Nope. I need new grout everywhere and you better believe I am keeping my mouth shut about THAT because I re-grouted EVERYTHING in Florida. It is seriously not a job for me. A moron could do it and by the time I DID do it, not only had I worn off all the polish on my fingers and toes, I thought maybe I WAS a moron.
So we figure that the real estate market will come back up one day....it always does....and then we will do a little repairs (cover everything and shoot the entire interior with Navajo White) but leave the big stuff....like painting the outside and ripping out the white carpet as a sale deduction. Everyone knows that they aren't going to rip out the carpet but we all pretend that that is going to happen. And guess who is the only company in the county who will scrape/repair/repaint these old wooden Victorians? That would be us. And who do you think even knows how to rebuild screens for all these old windows? Right again!
I need to write a note to the yard guy and have him start putting the grass clippings into the garden boxes. Then you nail on lattice and plant one thing in each square.....say one squash plant in the squash box or one melon plant in the melon box. I have these wooden towers that settle right in the middle so stuff can grow up and non of the fruit lays on the wet ground. It looks wonderful and lush.
I'm ripping out all of the 128 rose bushes from the house my mother rented from us and put them over here. THAT will fill up the front. Well, not ME. I'm not actually doing it. I THOUGHT of it. Pete's doing it. He thinks it will look great. He calls this an estate and tells customers that he works at this big estate on the edge of town. He comes over ever week and mows or weeds or something. Now mind you, there is always just enough little stuff that I can do so I don;t feel totally useless. But nothing more than about 30 minutes....because I have that 30 yard over at the coast I have to worry about.
I'm wrapping the filter for the koi pond with a bamboo shade and hanging flat sided planters over the edge. Each one will be filled with mint (impossible to kill) and will have a little aquarium tube from the filter into the planters, so it is always damp. And my fish! My 2,000 fish barely make a dent in this pond....and some of them are as big as my hand. I have huge frogs, too....so no bugs in my backyard.
Notice that most of this work can be accomplished in one afternoon.....and I will be spending more time buying the stuff than actually DOING it?
My kind of farming.
Man! That shot hurt
We didn't have to be in downtown SF until 3:30, but since the traffic there is so random, we left at 10 am. And none too soon, either. We had time for two rest breaks and lunch.
I got to chat a little with some migraineurs who make me feel like a whiny crybaby. Obviously, there are some people who REALLY suffer. They not only have gone thru Hell, they have experienced all of the circles therein. (I obviously am just wringing my hands on the banks of the River Styx, with no idea what a REAL migraine feels like.)
So I finally get in, an hour late and after going thru my paperwork, he digs around until he finds the absolute most tender spots on my neck. And I am talking about DIGGING, here. With pointy fingers. This goes on until I have the G0lden Spike jammed to the hilt in my eyeball.
Then he gives an array of Novocaine shots (nothing) and then several steriod shots. I'm not sure that they hurt, because I could only hear them popping their way into that nerve bundle. He'd pull the needle out, reposition it and the inject this really thick liquid. THAT hurt. WORSE than a cortisone shot and with none of the immediate relief. I was holding my son's hands and I think I almost broke his fingers while he was doing the whole breathe in-breathe out-concentrate on my voice stuff.
So I had to hang around for about 30 minutes to make sure I didn't have any immediate side effects (too hideous to write down) AND then he suggested that we spend the night (OUT OF THE BLUE) in SF that night, just in case.
Well, that is totally not even an option. We all have work in the morning and hadn't planned for an over night stay. No hotel booked. No hotel MONEY planned in our budget. It is now 5:30 in the afternoon. We have no idea where to go.
SO he said to go to see my regular doctor in the morning...which of course, screws up my work schedule...big surprise. My work schedule is so totally screwed it is a wonder that I have a job. I just need to be checked to see if there is any bleeding in my brain. OMG. nobody mentioned this part.
I stay awake until we get to to SFO, where it is a straight short to Gilroy....where there are only about 10 miles of signs directing one TO Gilroy, which then funnels you to I-5.
I sleep for about an hour (thinking of course that surely to GOD, Mike can bother find his way out of SF, where we have only gone a dozen times to the very same place) and manage to turn EAST at Gilroy. Nope. He manages to pass up Gilroy and end up on the road to SALINAS. I wake up right about then and say "Wow! Look at that dirt! Isn;t that great llooking?" Then I realize I haven;t seen this particular patch of field EVER before. WHich means we must have lost our turnoff, past the Gilroy garlic fields. AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!
His excuse?"Hey, I drive. You guys are supposed to tell me where to turn." HELLO. GILROY. BIG ASSED SIGN? BIG SIGNS POINTED TO FRESNO? ALLthat is missing is a sign that says "MIKE!! TURN HERE!! NOW!!"
Men are idiots.
But he is taking me to the doctor today. SO men are just idiots like big dogs who dig big holes are idiots. It's that y chromosome. There is so much missing that they can't function like high order humans.
Which would be women.
I got to chat a little with some migraineurs who make me feel like a whiny crybaby. Obviously, there are some people who REALLY suffer. They not only have gone thru Hell, they have experienced all of the circles therein. (I obviously am just wringing my hands on the banks of the River Styx, with no idea what a REAL migraine feels like.)
So I finally get in, an hour late and after going thru my paperwork, he digs around until he finds the absolute most tender spots on my neck. And I am talking about DIGGING, here. With pointy fingers. This goes on until I have the G0lden Spike jammed to the hilt in my eyeball.
Then he gives an array of Novocaine shots (nothing) and then several steriod shots. I'm not sure that they hurt, because I could only hear them popping their way into that nerve bundle. He'd pull the needle out, reposition it and the inject this really thick liquid. THAT hurt. WORSE than a cortisone shot and with none of the immediate relief. I was holding my son's hands and I think I almost broke his fingers while he was doing the whole breathe in-breathe out-concentrate on my voice stuff.
So I had to hang around for about 30 minutes to make sure I didn't have any immediate side effects (too hideous to write down) AND then he suggested that we spend the night (OUT OF THE BLUE) in SF that night, just in case.
Well, that is totally not even an option. We all have work in the morning and hadn't planned for an over night stay. No hotel booked. No hotel MONEY planned in our budget. It is now 5:30 in the afternoon. We have no idea where to go.
SO he said to go to see my regular doctor in the morning...which of course, screws up my work schedule...big surprise. My work schedule is so totally screwed it is a wonder that I have a job. I just need to be checked to see if there is any bleeding in my brain. OMG. nobody mentioned this part.
I stay awake until we get to to SFO, where it is a straight short to Gilroy....where there are only about 10 miles of signs directing one TO Gilroy, which then funnels you to I-5.
I sleep for about an hour (thinking of course that surely to GOD, Mike can bother find his way out of SF, where we have only gone a dozen times to the very same place) and manage to turn EAST at Gilroy. Nope. He manages to pass up Gilroy and end up on the road to SALINAS. I wake up right about then and say "Wow! Look at that dirt! Isn;t that great llooking?" Then I realize I haven;t seen this particular patch of field EVER before. WHich means we must have lost our turnoff, past the Gilroy garlic fields. AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!
His excuse?"Hey, I drive. You guys are supposed to tell me where to turn." HELLO. GILROY. BIG ASSED SIGN? BIG SIGNS POINTED TO FRESNO? ALLthat is missing is a sign that says "MIKE!! TURN HERE!! NOW!!"
Men are idiots.
But he is taking me to the doctor today. SO men are just idiots like big dogs who dig big holes are idiots. It's that y chromosome. There is so much missing that they can't function like high order humans.
Which would be women.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Crazy Making Sunday
I don;t this anticipation stuff too well. Good thing I am to old to get pregnant.
Evidently, I sounded so crazed on the phone, the big shot doctor ordered some meds for me...just got the call from RiteAid.
I guess he is not looking forward to this high strung mare in his shooting range, either.
I have some little piddly chores to do...clean out the car, get my toes done, buy some sandals because I just want to. Buy some melons because I have a sincere need to eat some.
Oh, I a merry little mess but just for a little while.
I did put a ban on both MONK and HOUSE...just too crazy making. So I'm spending a cheery afternoon watching The Sopranos. Something about all the unnecessary violence calms me down.
Monday is BAN day for me. Make it swift!
Got a call form my big shot (literally) doctor.
I go to UC/SF on Monday (4 hour drive one way) to get TWO BAN shots
in my greater occipital nerve bundles.
Don't eat after six am (never a good sign....sounds like it is going to hurt). Make sure I have a driver (oh, yetanother bad sign). They will have pain meds to give me (as in a shot, as opposed to pills that I would be throwing up).
Did I have any questions?
BOY, DO I!!
Am I going to have to even look at the needle? (NO)
Does he have narcotics in this little anxiety cocktail he is planning on shooting me up with? (YES)
And will it be in my hiney or vein? That gives me a good idea of how bad this thing is going to be. (Vein. Badbadbadbad). Saline IV...yes, but the drug will actually be pushed. (Badbadbad very badbadbad. Very.)
I have a five hour drive home....well, he has a teeny little pill to give me to make the trip comfortable for me. (I am hoping that means I will be unconscious.)
Then he tells me that I will be sitting in sort of a massage chair with my head IN A VISE and he will drug me, then shoot me up with novacaine AND THEN he will be adminitrating the nerve block ON BOTH SIDES OF MY HEAD with a BAN in a fan shape. (Doesn;t that sound like he is going to be taking that needle in and out? It did to me.)
Relax, he says. I've done hundreds of these. It isn;t as bad as Botox.
BOTOX!!!! I've seen that on TV and it looks about as pleasant as giving brith to a full grown COW.
Well, says he, Botox is the next step if this doesn;t work.
So needless to say, I am on the edge of hysteria. I am cleaning my car out tomorrow (it is the kind where you can just hose the whole thing out) because there is enough dinnkity things to do besides think of that BAN.
I grew up on a farm. If anyone knows what a big a$$ed needleooks like, it would be me. ANd I am POSITIVE it is going to be blunt and square, to boot.
Now the upside....no headache. I think I am so hysterical over this that there is no room in my head for the Japanese drummers guys to be pounding away with a screamer in the
background.
at one with the universe.
That is where I'm at.
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