Monday
Jun202005
The World Is Still Revolving Around Me. And Even I'm Starting to Get Sick of It.
Monday, June 20, 2005 at 03:13PM
You're all very sweet, thank-you. Although, uh, thank God my nose is not on the back of my head. I am however, still waiting for my phone call from God and since I'm mocking Him, I may very well wake up tomorrow with it poking out of my butt, in some new wrinkle of his cosmic ha-ha on Jen.
Dr. Lovely Jason seems quite sure that scarring isn't a big deal (it's quite GROSS what they do and no, don't ask, I can't even think about it. maybe in ten years or so) and he is very pleased. Since the nurse told me he was a perfectionist then I am imagining that "very pleased" translates as "you are going to be fucking gorgeous".
Well, I did say imagining, did I not? Dr. Fantastic Jason said that while they're not really sure what you're supposed to look like when they operate they basically just rebuild 'in proportion' so while I imagine that comes across as sounding a bit generic, I also imagine that yours truly will never be even remotely generic. So, no worries there.
Alas, I am tired of myself. I am tired of the mirrors I stare into and then avoid. I am tired of pain. Aching bones where I didn't even know I had bones. And things that drip... ick... so let's expand our awareness slightly.
At least 10 feet.
MaJen returned with lovely plants for my new-ish deck. Stef's been by to "talk to her neighbor over the fence" (*snort*)
Simon spouts and trickles merrily away while I fight the urge he creates to pee every 15 minutes instead of my usual twenty. Cabot has decided that our front area is now delineated enough to reasonably defend and actually attacked and stalked one of the border collies around the perimeter this morning.
Actually, I think that between Yeti poking him in the eyes and demoralizing him beyond all resistance a couple weeks ago and then MaJen's dog
showing up to rudely push his jut-jawed little body into the sacrosanct Cabot-space while Mommy quite obviously needs his constant attention and headbutting in the nose, he's finally just pushed beyond the fear and trauma of his earlier life to become Killer Kabot the Hissmeister.
Last night, from a seemingly relaxed sleeping position on the couch he LAUNCHED his body five feet to and through the screen door with such force that the door popping open didn't throw off his trajectory in the
slightest and landed hissing and MIARRRRROWing four feet on the other side practically on Maxi-pad's back. Scaring the shit out of two of us. (Not me - I actually laughed until I got all dizzy and started to heave).
Strangely, it bothers MaJen when I call him Maxi-pad, but that too, is funny and I must get my amusement somewhere, these days.
It is interesting to note though, that at no point do Cabot's claws come out. And just because he is my handsome and brave little man, we must have another picture (aren't I annoying when I have a digital camera?
I'll bet you're glad I have to give it back soon). Because he is my protector and has even taken over the tasks of the nurses who measure input/output by accompanying me to the bathroom EVERY TIME and standing up with his feet on my leg to watch and (presumably) conduct his own measurements.
At least, that's what I hope he's doing.
And did I ever mention that I actually DID pass my physical testing? I did. I have a black-eyed hobbly interview (the final step) this Thursday. Yes, method to my madness - hopefully I will be so pathetic that they'll skip half the questions and let me go home really fast. hee hee.
This is the cutest thing I read today....
And I am quite proud to say that I am the only human on the planet who's mother could POSSIBLY LOSE the library book she is returning for her daughter on an eight foot journey around the truck. Arriving at the library - gone. So, if anyone finds "fogheart", can you drop it off at the library so I don't have to pay them for it?
And now, back to me. For, although I am chipper, I have been resting up all day for this little burst of internet loving and so, now - Hot date. Icepak. Me.
Dr. Lovely Jason seems quite sure that scarring isn't a big deal (it's quite GROSS what they do and no, don't ask, I can't even think about it. maybe in ten years or so) and he is very pleased. Since the nurse told me he was a perfectionist then I am imagining that "very pleased" translates as "you are going to be fucking gorgeous".
Well, I did say imagining, did I not? Dr. Fantastic Jason said that while they're not really sure what you're supposed to look like when they operate they basically just rebuild 'in proportion' so while I imagine that comes across as sounding a bit generic, I also imagine that yours truly will never be even remotely generic. So, no worries there.
Alas, I am tired of myself. I am tired of the mirrors I stare into and then avoid. I am tired of pain. Aching bones where I didn't even know I had bones. And things that drip... ick... so let's expand our awareness slightly.
At least 10 feet.
MaJen returned with lovely plants for my new-ish deck. Stef's been by to "talk to her neighbor over the fence" (*snort*)
Simon spouts and trickles merrily away while I fight the urge he creates to pee every 15 minutes instead of my usual twenty. Cabot has decided that our front area is now delineated enough to reasonably defend and actually attacked and stalked one of the border collies around the perimeter this morning.Actually, I think that between Yeti poking him in the eyes and demoralizing him beyond all resistance a couple weeks ago and then MaJen's dog
showing up to rudely push his jut-jawed little body into the sacrosanct Cabot-space while Mommy quite obviously needs his constant attention and headbutting in the nose, he's finally just pushed beyond the fear and trauma of his earlier life to become Killer Kabot the Hissmeister.Last night, from a seemingly relaxed sleeping position on the couch he LAUNCHED his body five feet to and through the screen door with such force that the door popping open didn't throw off his trajectory in the
slightest and landed hissing and MIARRRRROWing four feet on the other side practically on Maxi-pad's back. Scaring the shit out of two of us. (Not me - I actually laughed until I got all dizzy and started to heave).Strangely, it bothers MaJen when I call him Maxi-pad, but that too, is funny and I must get my amusement somewhere, these days.
It is interesting to note though, that at no point do Cabot's claws come out. And just because he is my handsome and brave little man, we must have another picture (aren't I annoying when I have a digital camera?
I'll bet you're glad I have to give it back soon). Because he is my protector and has even taken over the tasks of the nurses who measure input/output by accompanying me to the bathroom EVERY TIME and standing up with his feet on my leg to watch and (presumably) conduct his own measurements.At least, that's what I hope he's doing.
And did I ever mention that I actually DID pass my physical testing? I did. I have a black-eyed hobbly interview (the final step) this Thursday. Yes, method to my madness - hopefully I will be so pathetic that they'll skip half the questions and let me go home really fast. hee hee.
This is the cutest thing I read today....
1) Y’all Canadians is NAAAAHHHCE. I have never in my life met a nicer group of people. People were nice to us EVERYWHERE, always talking and asking us if we were having a good time. This totally beats out the South when it comes to nice because in the South people are nice to you ‘cause they know they mama is gonna beat them back home if they ain’t. In Vancouver people were nice because THAT’S WHO THEY ARE. Except, they don’t have Super Target or TiVo.
That’s not a joke. You can’t pause live television in Canada.
Plans to relocate to Vancouver: TEMPORARILY DELAYED.
2) Lots of y’all wrote to tell me that y’all don’t talk like that, meaning: aboot! and oot!
Here’s the truth: YOU ALL DO. Stop the denial. I heard ABOOT more than a hundred times and then I lost count. It’s not annoying, in fact, I loved it. It made me want to package you all into little morsels and claim you on my customs form while going through the airport.
from Vangroovooroo, Dooce.
And I am quite proud to say that I am the only human on the planet who's mother could POSSIBLY LOSE the library book she is returning for her daughter on an eight foot journey around the truck. Arriving at the library - gone. So, if anyone finds "fogheart", can you drop it off at the library so I don't have to pay them for it?
And now, back to me. For, although I am chipper, I have been resting up all day for this little burst of internet loving and so, now - Hot date. Icepak. Me.
Reader Comments (2)
no, she doesn't have thumbs. :)