Finally

ANGRYMOJO
Originally uploaded by Dani H..

I finally got around to doing the photo thing, but now there are lots of fun pictures for you to look at. Most of them are of, yes, the animals, but they're cute, I promise!

All this figuring out of Flickr has made me hungry. Night!

The new Dani, now cast-free!

Yes, I've been cast-free for just over a week now, and it's so wonderful! I've never looked forward to washing my face and hair as much as I did the day after it came off. And no, the arm wasn't stinky, but there sure was a lot of nasty, flaky dry skin in there. But I got to wash the arm and hand there in the room right after the cast came off, which was very nice.

I don't have full range of motion, and it hurts if the wrist gets forced too far back, forward, or to the side, but it's getting better.

So, here's how it happened: My parents had been up that day and we all went to the county fair and had a lovely time. When they left, I took Rusty out since he'd been cooped up all day. It was about 8 p.m. and the 'rents hadn't even been gone 10 minutes.

Rusty was all crazed because my parents had been here, so he was running around like a lunatic. I was standing at the end of the sidewalk, and I was going to hop over his chain as he ran past so it wouldn't burn my ankles for the second time that day.

I didn't time it right.

The chain yanked my feet out from under me, and the next thing I knew I was sprawled face-down in the yard with a very painful nose and left wrist.

And of course, since I was laying on the ground, I wanted to play with Rusty, who was all over me. Obscene things were shouted, Dave came running over from the garage, and then my nose started bleeding so we went inside.

The great debate over going to the hospital began after the bleeding stopped, and I REALLY didn't want to go, so we decided to ice it and see what happened. (I was hoping for just a sprain)

Well, around midnight I decided maybe we should take a trip to the ER. I got to tell the story of the evil beast many, many times, got x-rays taken, found out it was fractured, got a splint and some percoset, and went home very unhappy. I took the percoset, it made me nauseous and didn't help the pain, so I went to bed even more unhappy.

Of course it was a holiday weekend, so I couldn't go see the orthopedist until Tuesday, but I eventually got the lovely cast, and the next six weeks pretty much sucked ass. Now I have to go to physical therapy (but probably not for very long) and do "exercises" at home, which includes playing with a big wad of neon red silly putty-type stuff. And I have a little brace to wear in case I decide to do any lifting, which I can assure will not happen. I wear it to bed though, because I'm paranoid I'll do something bad to it in my sleep.

The end.

Not really worth the wait, was it?

Still here

Still broken, and still without the VR program, so maybe this weekend I'll light a fire under Dave to help me with that. Sorry, but that's all. It takes too fucking long to type anything, and I ramble, so no more at the moment.

Fractured

My wrist, that is. Luckily it's the left one, so I can still write and use the mouse. We have a voice recognition program, so when we get me set up with that, I'll tell the story. Big surprise, the dog is involved.

One-handed typing is for the birds.

What a weirdo

Jen tagged me almost a month ago, so here you go:

Idiosyncrasy: A structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group. I'm supposed to list five of mine.

1. I have to count stairs when going up or coming down.

2. I have to check the alarm clock at least two times.

3. I have to check to make sure the doors are locked at least two times. (Sometimes 2 and three make me get out of bed.)

4. I go through phases of hobbies/activities. Sometimes all I want to do is read, sometimes it's sewing, sometimes it's crosswords, sometimes it's making jewelry, sometimes it's playing computer games. Sadly, it's never cleaning.

5. I have to be doing something when I'm watching TV, like playing gameboy or doing a crossword. I generally can't just sit and watch TV.

Maybe next time I'll get around to the reunion recap.

No time for love, Dr. Jones

As usual, the promises to myself to be better about posting have not worked, but you know what, I just don't care ... so there! But MB told me to make with the blog, and I happened to have e-mailed a post to myself from work Tuesday night, so I'll stop being lazy and post it.

I promised the story of Rusty's last trip to the vet almost a month ago, and here it is.

Rusty had puked every day for almost a week, and he was doing this weird fake leg-lifting on the tree but not peeing thing (he wasn't not peeing all the time so I didn't know what to make of it), and he needed a new kennel cough vaccination, so we drove up to BG for a visit with Dr. Jones.

Well, eventually we went back to the examining room (there's always a bit of a wait), and Dr. Jones asked me what exactly was going on, and I told him the "symptoms" and also that Dave was out of town and that Rusty hadn't been eating as much as usual. Blah blah blah. Next thing I know, Dr. Jones has a rubber glove on and is getting out some gel and then, AND THEN, he stuck his finger up my dog's ass!

Rusty did not take too kindly to this, and it took two assistants to hold him while Dr. Jones finished checking him out. And then, AND THEN, Rusty squatted and took a shit right there in the examining room. I was mortified! I said, "Oh Rusty" in an embarrassed voice, and Dr. Jones said, "Oh, that's to be expected. I stimulated him."

Well, if you're OK with it, I guess I am too. But please don't ever talk about stimulating my dog again, OK?

So, he says Rusty's prostate is slightly enlarged, which is odd since he's not even 2 years old, and that I should keep an eye on him, see if he gets better after Dave gets back, and go from there. Then it's time for the vaccination, which gets sprayed up the nose. Dr. Jones starts heading for Rusty, who is leaning against my leg. As Dr. Jones gets closer, Rusty starts scooting his butt around behind me so Dr. Jones can't get at it again. If I hadn't felt so bad for him, I would have laughed my fool head off. But I laughed and laughed later, so don't think I'm all nice and shit!

So he got his vaccine, we got some anti-nausea pills for him, paid and headed home. It was a very long day for both of us.

Next time: The 10-Year High School Reunion.

This is why I didn't promise

Because all week I've had the computer to myself and this is only my second entry. You know why? 'Cause I'm freakin' tired, that's why! Oh, and lazy.

The new editor started on Monday, and she's very nice, and she likes country music, so I think we should keep her. Plus she's somewhat familiar with our system, so that should be good too.

I got up early to take Rusty to the vet today, so I'm extra tired so I'm going to cut this very short. I'll tell the vet story next time, and I would bet Rusty's cookies that you'll laugh.

Breathing water

That's what it's like every time I step outside, and IT SUCKS! I'm sick of it! Stupid weather. This is going to be quick, because the computer is upstairs and it's too blasted hot to be up here right now - the window AC needs to work a bit harder, I think.

I've been quite productive in tracking down classmates, and it's been kind of trippy calling all these random people out of the blue, but I've kind of enjoyed it. And it makes me feel helpful.

I'm on my own this week, so I don't have to fight Dave for the computer so maybe I'll post more than usual ... but I won't make any promises.

Reunion blues

My 10 year high school reunion is next month, and I'm not happy. It's not that I don't want to go, I do; it's that no real invitations were sent out. "They" decided to just send out e-vites, as far as I can tell, and I just don't think that was the best way to do it. For starters, even now, not everyone has e-mail. I graduated with 133 people, and let me tell you, there are NOT 133 people listed on that e-vite site. There are also NOT 133 people listed on classmates.com. So, it stands to reason that not everyone is going to hear about the reunion if done solely via e-mail, right?

I think I'm going to try and track people down that don't seem to be on any list. I'm usually halfway successful when I do this type of thing at work, so I'm crossing my fingers I have the same luck with this.

So, I'll start with this: Anyone from Olentangy High School Class of 1995, if you would like information about our 10 year reunion, which is on Aug. 13, please e-mail me and I will send you the info! My e-mail address can be found by following the link to my home page at the bottom of this post.

In other news, my car loan is officially paid off! Naturally, I will begin looking for a new one at the end of the summer, and hope to get a new one in early fall. The current car has an assload of recalls and crappy things, so I can't wait to trade it in towards something else. I'd like to get a convertible, but I'm concerned I'll get knocked up two years into a loan and not be able to get out of it or have anyone buy it out, and convertibles probably aren't the safest mode of transportation for infants. NOT THAT ANY ARE PLANNED IN THE NEAR FUTURE, SO DON'T ANYBODY START WITH ME!!!

In still other news, a new Web site started Tuesday with a list of missing adults in Ohio. Our family friend is on there. So, if anyone from OHS happens to be reading this, please pass the link amongst your friends in the old stomping grounds and ask them to keep their eyes and ears open. Thanks.


Home page

Roundup

No, not the weed killer. A brief overview of recent events.

There's still no word on the family friend that's missing, aside from two people seeing him peek his head into a bar the Friday after he went missing. So, that makes things even weirder, in my opinion.

Rusty peed in the bedroom early Saturday morning (just before 2 a.m.) just as I was settling in to begin "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" (HBP). I was quite pissed. He's never done that before, and he'd better not do it ever again, or he'll get the boot!

Went to the family cookout Saturday on about three hours of sleep, but I didn't get too grouchy, surprisingly enough. It was nice to see everyone, and I even got to watch my parents, Dave, cousins, uncle, and other sundry people play cornhole and listen to lots of people make jokes pertaining to cornhole. We also listened to HBP on the way there and back, so the drive time didn't take too much away from the finishing of the book.

Which, by the way, I did around 2:30 a.m. Saturday. I must say, I am really not happy with J.K. Rowling at this moment. Dave and I kept saying "I don't like the way this book has started ... I don't have a good feeling about this ..." Not that the book is bad, mind you, just, well, we didn't like where we thought she was going with it. I kept hoping and hoping that what I thought was going to happen didn't happen, but it did. I bawled my eyes out toward the end when *NAME WITHHELD* died. (And if I just spoiled things a bit for anyone, I apologize, but where the hell have you been? Don't you read the papers? Rowling said ages ago that she was going to kill off another main character!)

Then today I got to go to work. Hooray! I also learned today that the little girl next door has started taking after her brother and repeatedly asking "What are you doing?" I can't figure out though if she's actually talking to the dog, or if she thinks my name is Rusty, or if she just calls both of us Rusty because she can't remember my name, because she kept saying "Rusty, what are you doing?" or "What are you doing, Rusty?" She just turned 3 so who knows what's in her head. But I am so looking forward to having two kids scream at me from their porch! Um, no, not so much.

A truly sucky week

A friend of the family, a guy I've known for as long as I can remember, has been missing since sometime the night of July 3/morning of July 4. No one's heard from him, his credit cards haven't been used, his car hasn't turned up, nothing. This has been the main topic of conversation for the last several days whenever I talk to my parents, and they've been going to his parents' house the last few days. It's very strange to even be on the fringe of this kind of situation; I say fringe because although our parents have been friends since long before I was born, we didn't hang out in school. Anyway, if you happen to be reading this from the Columbus or Powell area, please keep an eye out.

To add to the rottenness of the week, Kim called Sunday morning to tell us that Charles' brother died in his sleep sometime Saturday night/Sunday morning. I feel really horrible for Charles all around, obviously, but also because his birthday was also Saturday and that's a really shitty thing to have to think of on his birthday for the rest of his life.

I really hope the rule of three doesn't apply here.

My kind of holiday

I like Monday holidays, as we don't have a Monday paper so I get Sunday off and have a real weekend. I did absolutely nothing productive on Saturday, which was lovely. On Sunday we pulled the weeds out of the one flowerbed we've done anything with, then planted some more flowers and put some mulch down. My legs are killing me from all the squatting, bending down, etc., but the flowers look nice. I got overheated though, so I had a headache most of the evening. I'm starting to think gardening is just too much damn work - let the weeds take over!

We did have another neighbor child incident Saturday, which ruined my laziness buzz. This time I had the dog outside and I was on the phone with Dave, trying to figure out what we were going to do for dinner (the Chinese restaurant we wanted take-out from was closed). I'm going through the phone book, and the neighbors get home. The little boy comes flying up to where we were, shouting as always, with a pencil with a shark head on the end, which he used to poke at and hit the dog. Then he threw the pencil at the dog into our yard, so Rusty grabbed it and ran off with it so he could eat it. Dave's asking me if I want this or that at a different restaurant but I could hardly hear him. I told him to hold on because I had to get the kid's toy from the dog so the dog didn't eat it because he'd thrown it at Rusty, trying to say this loud enough so that the mother hears me. Then Dave and I hung up and I took the dog inside and slammed that door as hard as I could because DAMMIT PEOPLE I'M TIRED OF THIS!

What happens when the kid pokes my dog's eye out because he doesn't listen when you tell him not to hit or poke the dog with sticks? Do I get to sue them?

Anyway, mostly a nice, quiet holiday weekend. I guess that was to gear me up for the next two weeks at work - we'll be down a person due to vacations both weeks, and we were last week too. But I'll try not to complain too much, since I was just on vacation too.

I thought I was safe.

And then MB broke the rules and tagged me, too. So I guess my assignment is to list my current six favorite songs and then pick six others to do the same.

OK, my songs are, in no particular order:

1. Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson
2. Beer for My Horses by Toby Keith and Willie Nelson
3. You'll Think of Me by Keith Urban
4. Break Down Here by Julie Roberts
5. Speed by Montgomery Gentry
6. When You Come Back to Me Again by Garth Brooks

I think I'll be blaring the country music this weekend, thanks to this.

Now I'm supposed to tag six others. Problem with that is I don't know six other bloggers ... I admit it, I'm a lurker and love to read but never comment! I like to browse through MB's blogroll, but I thought it would be quite rotten to use her list here since she found them.

Anyway, since I don't have a lot of options for tagging, I'll choose Tasha and if any of her fellow bloggers feel like doing it, they can too!

I didn't get around to checking out the picture stuff here yet, so maybe that'll be my weekend project whilst bringing down the roof with fiddles and steel guitars. Or maybe I'll look at that flickr thing. In reality, I probably won't do either, but at least I'm thinking about it.

So, guess what? Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince comes out in two weeks! I absolutely can't stand it! I saw a picture at work Wednesday night of stacks and stacks and stacks of the books at a warehouse somewhere on the East Coast (AP wasn't allowed to disclose the location), and I was so fucking jealous of the people standing next to them! Do you think any of them snuck a peek at the first chapter? I WOULD! I wouldn't be able to stop myself! All those books, begging to be read! And Jim Dale, the guy who records them on tape, he's already done the tapes and knows what happens! I have never wanted to be a British man before now. (That means I want to be Jim Dale, for those of you who are having trouble keeping up)

For Order of the Phoenix, I stayed up until about 7 a.m. reading, got a bit of sleep, and had that thing finished by the end of the day. And it is quite a hefty book, ya know.

The worst thing is that my uncle is having a family cookout the day Half Blood Prince comes out, and I'm pretty sure many aunts and uncles, not to mention my parents, would be a bit pissed if we didn't go because I had to spend the day reading. So, Dave is still going to get the book at midnight, along with the tapes, I'm going to read the first chapter as soon as he gets home, and then we'll listen to the book on the way to my uncle's house. And maybe I'll hide in a corner with the book book, because I really just cannot wait to read the damn thing! Two Weeks!

Oh yeah, and my birthday is in one week. But in two weeks I'll know who the half blood prince is and who dies! Priorities people!

I forgot

We did find my sister by the way. Long story short, the outside phone lines were very, very bad and it took them several days to get it fixed. I tried her one more time that Friday morning before calling her neighbor, and she answered. And after I told her I was going to call the neighbor or drive to Akron, I'm pretty sure she thought I was crazy.

Longest. Drive. Ever.

Well, Dave and I trekked to the Outer Banks of North Carolina last week, and I must say, as nice of a time as it was, I've never been so happy to see the streets of Findlay as I was at 2:15 a.m. Sunday. What should have been a 14-hour drive home (which is plenty long as it is) turned out to be a 16.5-hour drive home, due to all the traffic around Virginia Beach, Williamstown, etc. Plus I had a headache for almost the entire drive. It was horrid.

But the vacation part of the vacation was nice (although if I never ever smell seafood again it will be much, much too soon). We were there with many of my in-laws: Ellen and Dave, Amy and her fiance Joe, Ellen's sister and brother-in-law Ann and Herb, their two sons Herbie and Peter, and Herbie's little boy Jason. That's a lot of people, but the house they rented was quite large, so it was OK.

Dave and I hung out a lot with Amy & Joe which was good because I feel the need to bond with them. The four of us went to Kitty Hawk (you know, that place where those Wright guys flew that crazy machine thingy), hit the mall, hit the outlet mall (which sucked, as most outlet malls do), had some meals, played some pool. We hung out with everyone else too, of course.

But seriously, for two people who don't eat seafood, there were some stomach-churning moments, let me tell you. For instance, on Friday we bought some tasty peanut butter/chocolate fudge and wanted to put it in the refrigerator so it wouldn't get all melty. I opened the fridge and got a gust of crab stink powerful enough to make my eyes water. Big pot o'crabs sitting in there uncovered. I wanted to puke, I was so sick of smelling crab, shrimp, clams, etc. by that point. Needless to say, the fudge stayed in our room where it only risked soaking up the scent of coconut lime verbena body splash.

The only other troubling thing was that the water was very hard and there was very little water pressure in the shower, both of which made it next to impossible to rinse my hair. It was hard enough making sure all the soap was rinsed off my face, so I just stood under the sucky little spray as long as I thought I could without people thinking I take the longest showers ever and then promptly pulled my wet hair back because the shampoo never quite went away. I hate that!

I could go on, but I think I'll continue another time, perhaps tomorrow if I feel like it. I'm itching to figure out the whole posting-pictures-on-blogger thing, now that it's been available for months.

So nobody's heard from Kim since Monday, and we're getting a little concerned since they were supposed to get the phone hooked up Tuesday and she said she was going to call my parents, but, as I said, has not. We've tried calling their alleged number at all hours of the day to no avail. We just get voice mail, which is more encouraging than a message saying we've called a nonworking number, but still, nobody ever answers. We're thinking maybe for some silly-ass reason they haven't plugged the phone in, or perhaps the ringer is turned down or off, but again, as I said, she was supposed to call by now. And she also said that she and Charles were going to my parents' house on Saturday to pick up some of their stuff. Maybe she'll call Mom & Dad tomorrow to talk about the Saturday visit, but it's too late now. I've tracked down their neighbors & said neighbors' phone number, and I'm calling those neighbors tomorrow as soon as I wake up and get some coffee in me to ask them to leave a note for Ms. Kim asking - no, telling - her to call me or my parents. And if she and Charles are embarrassed, TOO DAMN BAD! Maybe they'll learn the importance of keeping in touch with easily-worried family members.

In other news - damn, there isn't any other news.

Sometimes anger is a good thing. I wish it was a good thing more often, since I seem to be angry all the time these days, but at least Sunday it made me a bit productive. I got so mad yet again about having 50,000 boxes crammed into closets and put in the garage without having been sorted through when we moved A YEAR AGO that I actually threw a bunch of crap out, found three (small) things to put in a garage sale (that we may or may not have, but at least it was mentioned), and made a little more space in one of the downstairs closets. Not a big victory, but a victory nonetheless.

In other news, we trucked our collective ass and a washer and dryer to Akron last Wednesday to help Kim and Charles move their stuff into the new house. All things considered, it well a hell of a lot better than I had expected. It was hella hot (ha ha, I love you Jeff) and they had an amazing amount of stuff to be taken upstairs and I went too long without a rest, but that's OK. And I cut my leg on the corner of a dresser drawer, so now I have a big red cut with a big purple bruise all around it, but that's OK too.

Skipping on over to yet another topic, I have some advice to all my friends who have children, who are pregnant, or who are even thinking about having children: Do not, under any circumstances, let your child harass your childless neighbors. Especially your childless neighbors who work late and therefore sleep late and who have told you that they have no desire to have children at the moment because their animals are plenty to handle right now, thankyouverymuch.

You see, we have this problem. I apparently was too nice when the people next door moved in and did not set boundaries about when it's OK for the little boy to come over and play with the dog. Now, whenever it's nice outside and I'm out with Rusty, he's in my yard, in my face, in the dog's face. We're not talking every now and then, we're talking 95% of the time.

This little boy is only 5, so I have to hold the dog the entire time the boy is in reach, and that dog is really strong, so it's difficult at times. And it doesn't matter how many times I tell him he needs to stay in his yard so Rusty doesn't jump on him and hurt him, it doesn't matter how many times his mom says it, he just heads on over.

It used to be that when I would tell him to get back over in his yard, he'd look at me and say, "What?" like I had just spewed a bunch of gibberish. His new thing is to look at me and say, "I know" and then proceed to climb up on my porch or rile the dog up. A couple days ago I told him that he needed to go back in his yard so he didn't get hurt and he said, "I know," then climbed up on my porch, grabbed a ball and said, "Rusty likes to play ball" and then threw the ball into the yard. That's when I said, "OK, we're going in now, you need to go home."

Yeah, that's my new tactic. As soon as he steps foot across that imaginary threshold, we go inside.

It's gotten to the point where I have to try to sneak outside to let Rusty take a shit and then sneak back inside without being seen, which is difficult since there's only like three feet between the houses.

I also greatly enjoy it when I'm in the garage looking for something and I look up at the house to check on the dog, and guess who's there. The worst part (with my being in the garage away from them, but also with the whole situation in general) is that I don't think mom is paying attention, thereby making me responsible if the little angel falls down, gets pushed down by the dog, whatever. I'm sorry, but I gave up babysitting more than a decade ago, and I don't have the time or desire to keep an eye on this boy. I want to be able to sit outside and do crossword puzzles in the sun, waiting for the dog to pee on the side of the porch, in peace.

Any suggestions?



Home page

OK, here's the Sugar Puddin' story, as promised.

I was outside with the dog when I heard someone say, "Oh my god no! Get back here!" Rusty ran to the side of the house, so I thought it was the boy with the dog that runs loose, being scared because I've threatened to call the dog warden the next time that dog gets anywhere near Rusty. I went to the side of the house, no boy, no dog. I realized it was Dave that had said it, and that he was upstairs.

Then Dave says, "Dani! Sugar's on the roof!" Well, that's not a good thing! Luckily though, it's a flat roof so she didn't go skidding down anywhere. I backed up into the yard so that I could see the window where Dave was, and I see Sugar scrambling to get back in the window. She couldn't get a foothold, so Dave pulled her back in.

Turns out, Dave was upstairs working and had the window open. Sugar is a big fan of sitting in open windows. She's also a big fan of standing on her back legs to reach things between the window and the screen. There was a little hole in the screen, so we figure she was stretching up to play with the torn part, leaned too hard on the screen and fell out.

Dave said she was darting back and forth on the roof, looking over the side, trying to figure out what to do. Apparently she decided that even though she's a very good jumper, she's not good enough to make it through that landing.

I'm sure this story would have been much more amusing had I told it when it happened, as it was fresher, but that's life. Between being grouchy and not feeling like getting online and Dave hogging the computer when I do feel like blogging ... well, obviously, not a lot of posts. I'll try to do better, I promise!

I think my life is about to get easier. I have finally figured out that what I say really doesn't matter. This explains why, whether I'm having a civil conversation or screaming obscenities, it all goes in one ear and out the other. For all these years, I've been under the impression that my thoughts and opinions carried some weight, but they don't. Therefore, I no longer have to bother carrying on any sort of meaningful conversation with anyone. I can just say "uh-huh" or repeat "flibbitigibbit" over and over, and it won't make a bit of difference either way. Won't that be so much easier?

Don't worry, I'll most likely explain next time, not that it'll matter.


While I don't feel like telling the Sugar Puddin' story right now, I will tell you that my trip to BG a couple weeks ago was wasted, as Kim & Charles are moving to Akron. But that's OK, because they'll still be closer, and nothing I would have said to them would have mattered to them, either.

Guess what I'm doing today, as soon as I get my lazy ass in the shower? I'm heading up to BG to look for housing for ... my sister! I'll tell the story later, but the short version is there's a good chance that she & Charles will be moving up to northwest Ohio! Holy crap!

I will also tell the story of Sugar Puddin's big adventure later, if I remember.