Thursday, January 27, 2011

Updates coming out the yazoo and every other orifice you might or might not have


So, my brother Adonis called me today, telling me I wasn't updating my blog enough and he felt he was losing touch with me, his only sister whom he loves more than life itself, and I then wanted to say well then why don't you pick up the damn phone and call me, but I didn't say that because it would sound kind of rude, and I am never rude to people, animals or even rocks, because rocks have rights too, guys.

I'm not really sure what Adonis meant by his pronouncement that I don't update my blog enough. I mean, I know I don't update it as often as I used to (before school happened, and since my life as I once knew it fell apart and I died and went to hell), but still, I can't just be expected to update this thing every single day, can I? Just in the hopes that someone is actually reading it, and actually cares what they're reading? As it stands, half of what I say here is pure bullshit anyway, so there you go.

However, I suppose I should be quite honoured that Adonis called me and gave me shit for not updating more often, because it means he cares, although he never said it, so maybe what he was actually trying to tell me is that he is bored at work and has nothing better to do than to read really bad writing.

OK, so here we go. Some updating, just for you, sweet Adonis ...

* Dee was very sick last week, all week long, and by Friday, he was so sick he was actually losing consciousness, so I had to run to the doctor with him because I didn't want to have to deal with him possibly losing control of his bowels if he actually passed out. Dee was put on antibiotics and is almost back to normal, whatever that is.

* Dee is going downhill skiing with his school today, and he's never been on downhill skis in his life, let alone going down a mountain on them. I'll let you know the results. Or I'll post the obit. Or both.

* Em is in the midst of finals this week, and she is stressed. I think.

* I got Em's iPod when she got a new one for Christmas. I have yet to use it, because although I whined about it for months beforehand, I apparently don't have enough time or urge to use it. And when I do, I forget. I also don't know how to turn it on.

* Mr. Handsome is going to Norway or Scandinavia, or somewhere like that, this summer for yet another conference thingy. Apparently. He may be having an affair, and I wouldn't blame him, because nordic women are usually very pretty. Unless they are named Olga and push trains.

* I am now studying Senior Biology, and have realized that I just lied because I haven't touched my books since Monday, and today's Thursday. I think.

* Gryphon is still on meds for arthritis and an ear infection. He is definitely responding to the arthritis meds, which makes me very happy. His ear is better, but it still stinks and makes me want to projectile vomit. You're welcome.

* Mr. Handsome and I snuck away yesterday afternoon and went to watch two movies back-to-back, and we didn't pay for either of them!!! Can you say AWESOME?! And yes, the kids know. We believe in grounding them in truth and honesty, except when you can easily sneak into a second theatre without even trying. Then, all bets are off, because if the theatre people doesn't care enough to watch for assholes like Mr. Handsome and me, then we don't care either. Or something like that.

* I am on a heart monitor thingy for the next two weeks because my cardiologist thinks I have a short-circuit in one area. I tried to tell him the short circuit was most probably in my brain, but he didn't let me talk. So, I now have electrodes hooked up to my boobs, and everytime my heart goes wonky and speeds up and pounds as if I'm running a marathon, when in fact I'm actually lying on the couch and drooling on the cushion, I'm supposed to push a little button on the monitor thingy, which then emits a very loud and nasty noise not unlike a small animal on heroin might sound, and then when I have a few of these recordings, I have to phone it into the heart institute. I'm almost bionic, guys. And I now realize a lot of that paragraph probably didn't make a lot of sense and was pretty much run-on. And I also realize I don't care because I have a heart condition and you all should feel really sorry for me and bake me cookies and things and bring them over. I like chocolate too.

* I got a new job that starts next week. It's very part-time, but that's a good thing, because that's all I can manage. Remember about three million years ago, I applied for a job at the library? Go here to read about it, if you have nothing better to do. (Umm, I just tried finding the post about applying for the library job, and I can't find it, and really don't feel like spending anymore time looking because I have to put the lasagna in the oven and have a nap, so you're on your own, guys.) Well, I finally got a call for it, when I'd given up all hope. And even better is that it's very close to my home, so I can basically just roll out of bed, pull on my pants, and be there in 10 minutes flat. And the bonus: no need to brush my teeth because I'm NOT ALLOWED TO TALK TO THE PUBLIC!! Awesome.

I think those are all the updates for now. I hope that's good enough for you, Adonis. If it isn't, start your own damn blog.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Nurse! Nurse! I need my nail clippers!


So, guys, I just applied to three nursing programs in the hopes of getting into one of them for the fall.

Nursing is what I've decided to go for, now that my career as a paramedic has most probably ended before it even began, sort of like the egg coming before the chicken, which can only happen to me.

I came to the decision a little while back that nursing was probably a better career for me than paramedic. This, after thinking everything through carefully, and trying not to get emotional about it. Not getting emotional has been getting easier as time's gone on. Pretty soon my ears will get all pointy and people will start calling me Dr. Spock.

Ha. Ha.

Meanwhile, I'm starting a Grade 12 Biology course through distance education, which is so exciting I can hardly contain the urge to scream. Yeah, it's THAT good, guys. Actually, it's not bad because I'm pretty sure a large percentage of it is more or less a repetition of what I just took in my anatomy/physiology class, so it could be worse. Much worse, as in having to take a Grade 12 Chemistry (university level) course, beginning next month, during which I will most probably die at least 10 times. All this just to get into the nursing programs.

Well worth it, unless I die sometime during the process. Although, now that I think about it, at least I'd know what to do if I did die...although I wouldn't actually be able to do anything about it. Because I'd be dead.

Clearly time for a break.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Illness abounds

Things are going oh so smoothly here on the ranch. NOT.

So far this week (and it's only Wednesday, I think), we have one sick boy at home with what seems to be a bad virus that has so far attacked his abdominal region, his throat, his chest, and his joy for life. Dee is sad and sick.

We also have a sick Em, who isn't quite as ill as Dee because she is still able to go to school and get things done, but who has been sick with a cough/cold thing since about Christmas time.

Apparently there's a "thing" going around these here parts, creating havoc with waay too many people, most of whom seem to be in my house.

I have as yet to get sick, which is, in itself, a true miracle because I am usually the one who gets sick approximately thrice a week. I've been feeling a bit under the weather, but haven't really succumbed to any awful crap. Yet.

Although, now that I think of it, I am on antibiotics for a sinus infection, but I can't say it's awful, because it isn't. Yes, I've had rotten headaches pretty much every day and night since before Christmas, which makes it feel like the front of my head (which, I guess, would be my face) is about to explode all over the dining room table, but other than that, I've been okay.

Gryphon hasn't been lucky enough to avoid all the crud going around this house either. After $200 spent at the vet's yesterday, he is now on antibiotic ear drops for what the vet said is a rather nasty ear infection, as well as pills for what might be an arthritic hip. The vet made me feel like I was worse than a bad dog owner when he took a look in Gryphon's ear and started yanking out things that looked quite a bit like rotting flesh. While he removed the infected grossness, the vet would look up at me with a mixed look of consternation, anger and disgust. Apparently it's my fault the dog's ear is sick. Of course it is.

Giving Gryphon his meds is a joy entirely unto itself. First, with the ear drops. He's supposed to get three to five drops of this gunk into his ear once a day. It's my job to do it. So, being the saint that I am, I take charge, lifting his ear flap up to get good access to the ear canal. This in itself is not easy because Gryphon is a smart pup, and immediately shakes his head, which makes my hand (which is holding the bottle of gunk) fly up into the air and poke me right in the eye. Awesome.

I try again, holding Gryphon's sturdy snout deftly under my arm as I use one hand to lift up the ear flap, and use the other hand to quickly squeeze the drops in. It works! I let go of his snout, and Gryphon then happily proceeds to shake his head, resulting in big gobs of his medication flying quickly into the air and landing in my open mouth. It is then that I begin to wonder what I did to deserve this life.

Then it's time for his pain pill, which first has to be cut in half. It takes me 20 minutes to get the stupid pill out of the wrapper, because apparently I am not very smart or good with my hands, even with opposable thumbs. I finally figure it out, and proceed to place it on the counter to cut it with a very sharp steak knife. Dee sees me doing this and takes the knife away from me. He then presses on both sides of the pill, and it magically divides in half.

I try to give Gryphon the pill (apparently it's supposed to taste good to dogs, I've been told). He sniffs it, shakes his head, and looks at me, as if to say, "Dude, if you think you can fool me into thinking this is actually a treat, you can stab yourself with that stupid steak knife. Go ahead. I'll watch." So, I put a dab of peanut butter on it, because he loves that stuff, and stick it into his mouth. Gryphon licks and licks, his mouth moving, so I'm pretty sure I've succeeded. Then, he looks up at me, sticks his tongue out one final time, and the pill (sans peanut butter) drops out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. Nice. I then resort to tearing off a piece of bread, sticking the pill deep inside it, and covering the bread with peanut butter. Gryphon greedily takes this, eats the bread, and the pill once again drops to the floor. He's clearly taken lessons in pill-taking.

I finally got the pill down his throat, after two more bread camouflage tries.

It's going to be a long month, guys.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Coffee tables have many uses. Obviously.


This past weekend was extremely eventful. Not only did we vacuum the living room rug, but we also got up the courage to remove the guinea pig cage (which was homemade and awesome, and which sat on our old coffee table, which we hadn't used as a coffee table since Em was born because we are anal in that way and decided that we would rather not have a coffee table for a thousand years than have our tiny little vulnerable and perfect children knock their little heads on a corner and end up in the emergency room getting stitches).

As you who read this sensational blog will know, our last guinea pig, Mo, passed away last week, on Mr. Handsome's birthday. You could say it put a bit of a pall on festivities. ANYWAY, the piggies lived on our coffee table for the past seven years. The table had been put in a corner of the dining room so that the piggies would be near us, because guinea pigs are very social animals, and we're nothing if we aren't extremely sensitive to the needs of others.

So, although some people thought it was disgusting and absolutely horrid that we would eat our meals in the same room as a couple of GPs, eat in their presence we did. They were happy, because they love food (HELLO!! They're guinea pigs), and they provided the family with minutes of entertainment daily. In my humble opinion, a win-win situation.

And, now that the piggies have all gone to piggy heaven, where they have an endless supply of green pepper, English cucumber, and timothy hay, we had no more use for either their cage (which we had built with our own hands, sweat and blood) nor the placement of the coffee table.

It was time for the coffee table to once again become -- yes -- a coffee table. Only problem was it no longer really looked like the sort of table one would normally put in the living room. Well, it wasn't awful, but it certainly was showing its past use as Guinea Pig World.

So, instead of trashing it, we put it smack dab in the middle of the living room. Of course. Where it will serve as an eternal memoir of Cuddles, Furry and Mo.

In other guinea pig news, I thought you would all want (and need) to know this atrocious (yet somewhat interesting) fact regarding guinea pigs and Peru. Mr. Handsome's sister is over there right now, traipsing. What else do you do there? So, in an effort to find out more about Peru, I did the old Google search, and this is what I came up with:


Not only do Peruvians eat guinea pigs, but apparently they also dress them up beforehand, and whoever's guinea pig is the cutest gets cooked! Isn't that sweet???!

Excuse me while I go stick hot needles into my eyeballs.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

It's like this


Here I am, back again for yet another dreary and depressing entry into what is known as my amazingly exciting life. Believe you me, all I tell you is true. I am not making anything up. And I totally understand your feelings of envy, wishing you could be me. But, I'm here to tell you, you can't. It's not easy to be me, and this is why:

  • 7 a.m. I open my eyes. I can hear both kids as they get themselves ready for school. Yes, that's right. They actually get up BY THEMSELVES and get their own breakfast, brush their own teeth, and head out the door for school ON TIME, without nary a blink from their mother. I have clearly trained them well.
  • I close my eyes again because the kids obviously don't need (or probably even want) me around. That way, they can get away without brushing their teeth, can take an extra three helpings of snacks for their lunches, and not have to deal with my fetid morning breath.
  • 8 a.m. Mr.Handsome begins rousing.
  • 10 a.m. Mr. Handsome actually gets up.
  • Just kidding. He's gone to work by then. Probably. Or not.
  • I begin my daily rousing ritual, which includes opening each eye in random order. I try to surprise myself with the variability of my eye opening and closing. You should try it sometime. It's fun, and also wastes at least 10 minutes more of your day.
  •  I finally swing my legs out of bed, and sit on the edge. This takes approximately 30  minutes, because I don't have my contact lenses in yet, so everything I look at is very blurry, so I spend the time trying to guess the time. Then, when I can no longer stand keeping my bladder full, I get up, stumble through the clothing that is tangled on the floor, and make it to the bathroom just in the nick of time. This serves to give me some major excitement to my day. It's almost like playing Russian Roulette, except without the risk of dying.
  • I take a look at myself in the bathroom mirror, cry a little, and then put in my contact lenses. I do not look in the mirror after putting in said lenses. To do so would be extreme cruelty.
  • I slowly make my way downstairs, where Gryphon greets me. I ignore him, unable to meet his eyes as I shuffle off to the kitchen to make myself my Emergency Coffee, aka The First Coffee Of The Day. Without this initial bolus of caffeine, I would be good to no one.
  •  I sit on the couch, oblivious to everything and everyone, slowly sipping my coffee and waiting for my axons and synapses to snap to attention. It takes an hour on a very good day. On a bad day, I remain oblivious, which is probably a better thing. Which then begs me to ask the question, 'Why do I even have coffee if I'm actually BETTER without it?' I have no idea.
  • The highlight of my day is when the garbage man comes by. Sometimes this is made even more exciting by the previous arrival of Carl the Crow, who digs holes in our garbage bags and proceeds to throw the garbage out of the bags, usually just for the simple fun of it. Unfortunately, it's not quite as fun as it used to be because our neighbours who hated us have moved, and our new neighbours don't seem to care that we sometimes have garbage strewn about our lawn for the day. I make a mental note to think up some new ways of irritating them. This might turn out to be more difficult than I hope, since I hate thinking.
  • I pet Gryphon.
  • Gryphon pets me.
  • I like it.
  • After about six hours of this, the kids stumble home from school.
  • And the rest of my day entails telling the kids to be quiet, stop shouting obscenities at one another, make me another coffee, massage my feet, and clean the house. What?
Like I said, I have a tough life.

Next time, I'll tell you all about how I lost my teeth.

    Monday, January 10, 2011

    Things can only get better. Right?


    Oh, hello there. Me again.

    Still depressed. Still feeling like Life has crashed into me head-on and run over me about eleventy-million times. Which it kind of has.

    Still have heard nada from anyone at the school. They're all ignoring me, guys. It's like they hate me or, even worse, don't care. Not a nice feeling, either way. With classes starting today, I'm a bit anxious to get this stuff figured out so that I know where I stand.

    Meanwhile, I spent the better part of last week making phone calls and trying to find the right people to talk to, so that I could better figure out my options. So far, my options are limited ... as in, I could just lie in bed until September and it wouldn't matter, except that my kids might start wondering where I was. Maybe.

    So far, what I know is that I will be applying to enter the four-year university nursing program, and the two-year practical nursing program, and re-applying for the paramedic program. What I still don't know is whether or not the paramedic program will allow me to continue with the second semester. And, at this point, I almost don't care anymore. And yes, I know that's no attitude to have. Sorry, folks. I just can't help it.

    On an even less bright note, our third (and last) guinea pig kicked the bucket last Thursday. Mo (short for Nanaimo) was only two years old, which just made us all the more sad. Although she wasn't my favourite piggy,  she was starting to rub off on me, ever since my favourite piggy Furry died last November. Now, who in hell's name deserves to have two pets die in the span of less than two months?! We do, that's who. Clearly. Of course, I'm pretty sure she died because I didn't love her. Lately, it seems everything I even think of looking at disintegrates right before my eyes.


    I'm pretty sure this signifies the end of our Guinea Pig Era. The kids are both much older now, and we've discovered we can all live quite well with a poodle in the house. Hence, there's no longer that overwhelming need to house tiny little animals that squeak a lot and are very fussy with the fresh veggies. I wanted to take the cage down over the weekend, but Dee was adamant we leave it up for a while. I understand. This reminds me of the time, a very long time ago, when we had our first dog (Augie was her name, stupidity was her game) and, when she died at the age of 15, I refused to allow my dad to remove her water and food bowls, as well as her bed. It just felt wrong.

    In the last week, I also discovered that I have a short circuit in my heart, which means I now have to go in for some tests, and possibly an invasive procedure. Why not, I ask myself. What else could go wrong? Oh yeah. Probably a brain tumour, and foul body odor.

    Lately, I almost feel like I'm caught in an invisible web of eternal badness.

    It's gotta get better soon, folks.

    Monday, January 3, 2011

    Merry Deep Hole of Depression, everyone! Oh, and a really adequate new year, too.


    Oh. Hello there. Why, yes, I'm still alive. Thank you for asking.

    At least, I think I am. Just a second.

    Yup. I'm alive.

    But just barely.

    Lots has happened since I last wrote on Dec. 16, which is almost two Oh weeks ago, which is a lifetime in the world of the blog. And when I last wrote (on Dec. 16), I was getting all ready for a nice big Christmas holiday, which I so badly needed.

    Firstly, I should have known I was totally jinxing myself by writing that. And secondly, I got what I asked for, and then some. Boy, did I ever.

    And, before I go on, can I say that I've missed you, and hope you still remember me???

    So, when I last wrote, I had one more exam to do, which was my lab exam. As well, I had one lift to accomplish before I could heave a heavy sigh and forget about body parts for at least a week. Well, as luck may have it (and by luck I mean the kind of luck that makes you want to twist your underwear in a knot and stuff them into your throat, because that would be so much better than the luck you just experienced), the lift I had to do was actually one of the most important parts of the entire semester. I can't really go into detail about it at the moment, because it's sort of hush-hush right now, but I was eventually told that day that I was no longer in the program, which made me bawl, fall to my knees, and wish I had one of those really sharp knives on hand (which would have actually been pretty useless, seeing as I was surrounded by paramedics). 

    So, after driving around the city for awhile, tears running down my face and totally ruining my immaculate make-up job from that morning, I went home and eventually broke the news to Mr. Handsome, who then eventually broke the news to the children, who then refused to look at me for the remainder of the holiday. Just kidding. They started acknowledging my existence again yesterday evening, once I convincingly bribed them.

    So, I may or may not be in the paramedic program. That's how the old proverbial cookie crumbles sometimes, as I well know from many of my previous failures experiences.

    You can say that, since Dec. 17, I've been in a pretty deep and rather destructive funk that has brought me to my knees and shaken every single drop of happiness and hope that I had left inside me out of me and to the ground. The hole I was in was deep, dark and deadly, and there were a few days in which I was truly afraid I wasn't coming out of this one without a lot of help. However, I'm happy to say that I'm finally starting to come back to the world, and am beginning to want to get up in the morning again. It's still really hard, but at least I don't dread life any longer.

    Me enjoying my Christmas holidays.

    I have a few ideas/options up my sleeve, but haven't been able to make any real progress on anything because it seems everyone everywhere disappears off the face of the earth in-between Christmas and New Year. Go figure.

    Other than that, the holidays were good. I just didn't notice it is all. We spent time with family, I spent time in tears, and hidden away in what was left of my soul, and we sang Christmas carols, and watched some great Christmas TV, and ate a lot of crap. Strangely enough, I don't think I've gained anything, probably due to the fact that my depression refused to allow me to move, let alone actually ingest food. The kids had a wonderful two weeks of nothing but playtime, sleeping in, visiting, and tearing each other's heads off. So, all in all, a great time.

    Thanks for your patience, folks. I'm trying to look at the bright side of things. And just think: if I don't go back to school this month, my blog will be chock full of posts again, just like the old times, and the heavens will open, and the angels will sing, and all will be good with the world again.


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