Good things that happened this week-
We got a new vehicle. Rich found a 2005 Ford Escape that we purchased for a somewhat decent car payment each month with no money down. This is helpful because now I can drive our Jeep instead of the Nissan Death Trap.
Rich lost his debit card and put a hold on it, but it was found at the car dealership and they held it for us. I picked it up yesterday.
Livvie has taken decent naps every day but Tuesday, the day of the full moon when she behaved so awfully I thought I might have to sell her for parts.
Livvie also walked on her own again several times last night. This is after going several weeks now without walking because she apparently decided crawling was much faster.
I received lovely gifts via mail from some wonderful people who know me very well and chose incredibly perfect items for The Bean.
So, in all actuality it's been a pretty good week for us. Things aren't that bad outside of my brain chemistry, and I just wanted to let everyone know that.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Short update
Went to the headologist today, and we've added lithium to my cocktail after all.
Apparently what I've been experiencing is called "breakthrough mania." Lithium is the best anti-manic out there, so I'm on a very low dose now, as well as on my other drugs, to see if it helps. I can tell you that I was making my way through the stages today, and thinking things have gotta change. They just have to.
Let's ALL cross our fingers that this helps.
Apparently what I've been experiencing is called "breakthrough mania." Lithium is the best anti-manic out there, so I'm on a very low dose now, as well as on my other drugs, to see if it helps. I can tell you that I was making my way through the stages today, and thinking things have gotta change. They just have to.
Let's ALL cross our fingers that this helps.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
My brain
My brain is not happy with my current dosage of Abilify, the drug I take to keep from becoming a raving lunatic.
This is the med where I'm at my max dosage.
Owen Wilson allegedly tried to kill himself this week, and my friends and myself strongly suspect bipolar disorder. I would prefer that he become the poster child for the disease rather than Britney Spears, of whom I also suspect bipolar.
I'm going to explain what goes on in my brain at these times so that I might provide some understanding.
There's a stretching feeling. It feels like your brain is a rubber band that has reached its limit. It also feels like your brain is suddenly on the outside of your skull with your skull inside it. I believe that anyone who claims the brain has no nerve endings is a liar, because every bipolar person can feel their brain. When rubber band brain relaxes, it sends you into a deep well of despair that can very easily lead to suicide if you aren't medicated. Then rubber band brain stretches again, and one of several things happens.
It stretches just far enough to allow you to feel joy and happiness over everything. The world is your oyster. You can do anything, and often try to do EVERYTHING. Even things that might not sound like a good idea to other people. Spending money you don't have, boinking random strangers, etc.
It stretches to the skull itself. At this point you start doing everything at triple the speed of usual. You write more, paint more, compose more, talk faster, clean faster, drink more, smoke more, and possibly even run around in circles to expend some of the energy. This is the point that almost every bipolar person LOVES. The possibilities that erupt out of your own skull are invigorating, and you don't want it to end. However, if you're not under treatment/under the wrong type of treatment it leads to...
Stretching past the skull. The point where it feels like your skull is inside your brain banging around. This is when the irritability and rage begins. Hair trigger tempers. Sarcasm. Rage that every living creature runs from because they can sense the danger to come. This is when people kick their dogs, beat their children, and often take high powered weapons into heavily populated areas and start firing. This is NOT a good place to be obviously.
And here's the kicker. For people like myself, ALL OF THESE STAGES CAN HAPPEN IN ONE DAY.
And right now they are. Which means my meds are no longer cutting it. And in order to keep myself and my family safe, I need to find another option.
This, frankly, sucks ass.
This is the med where I'm at my max dosage.
Owen Wilson allegedly tried to kill himself this week, and my friends and myself strongly suspect bipolar disorder. I would prefer that he become the poster child for the disease rather than Britney Spears, of whom I also suspect bipolar.
I'm going to explain what goes on in my brain at these times so that I might provide some understanding.
There's a stretching feeling. It feels like your brain is a rubber band that has reached its limit. It also feels like your brain is suddenly on the outside of your skull with your skull inside it. I believe that anyone who claims the brain has no nerve endings is a liar, because every bipolar person can feel their brain. When rubber band brain relaxes, it sends you into a deep well of despair that can very easily lead to suicide if you aren't medicated. Then rubber band brain stretches again, and one of several things happens.
It stretches just far enough to allow you to feel joy and happiness over everything. The world is your oyster. You can do anything, and often try to do EVERYTHING. Even things that might not sound like a good idea to other people. Spending money you don't have, boinking random strangers, etc.
It stretches to the skull itself. At this point you start doing everything at triple the speed of usual. You write more, paint more, compose more, talk faster, clean faster, drink more, smoke more, and possibly even run around in circles to expend some of the energy. This is the point that almost every bipolar person LOVES. The possibilities that erupt out of your own skull are invigorating, and you don't want it to end. However, if you're not under treatment/under the wrong type of treatment it leads to...
Stretching past the skull. The point where it feels like your skull is inside your brain banging around. This is when the irritability and rage begins. Hair trigger tempers. Sarcasm. Rage that every living creature runs from because they can sense the danger to come. This is when people kick their dogs, beat their children, and often take high powered weapons into heavily populated areas and start firing. This is NOT a good place to be obviously.
And here's the kicker. For people like myself, ALL OF THESE STAGES CAN HAPPEN IN ONE DAY.
And right now they are. Which means my meds are no longer cutting it. And in order to keep myself and my family safe, I need to find another option.
This, frankly, sucks ass.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Well great
There's a lot of drama going down at a Mommy Board I belong to. I don't understand why, other than when that much estrogen gets slinging around it's usually inevitable.
This is why I hate working with women as a general rule. Not always, but with most of the jobs I've had where the staff was predominantly female the shit hit the fan on a regular basis. I'm a person who keeps to herself and doesn't enjoy gossiping at work, so usually my only indication that anything was up would be when I was called into the "office" and asked about what was going on. I usually had to reply that I was unaware of anything, but once the floodgate opened suddenly ALL I was aware of was the crap going on.
And often that gossip involved me. Or the backstabbing. Or the general pissiness.
I remember at my very last job being called into the office all of the time and informed that I was not being friendly enough to my co-workers and that people were complaining. I was there to work, not to make friends, and the idea that someone would complain about me for not being cuddly enough was just amazing to me.
Now, granted, I wasn't on my meds at the time, but I can GUAR-AN-TEE you that if I were to be working there now I would have the same mindset. There to work, not to cuddle.
And to be blindsided by drama when you have no idea what's going on? It's just dreadful.
So I think that I might have to start really living my life instead of hanging out on the internet a lot. I love my internet friends very much, especially the ones that are "off board" if you will. However, I think I really need a break. Which is a shame, because I really thought that the purpose of these forums was community and support.
I need to edit this to include that there is one board I belong to that is completely drama-free. It's a board for care givers of diabetic cats. It's an amazing group of caring women and I would be lost without them, even though my diabetic is no longer on this earth. They still welcome me. They're wonderful. And again, lost without them.
This is why I hate working with women as a general rule. Not always, but with most of the jobs I've had where the staff was predominantly female the shit hit the fan on a regular basis. I'm a person who keeps to herself and doesn't enjoy gossiping at work, so usually my only indication that anything was up would be when I was called into the "office" and asked about what was going on. I usually had to reply that I was unaware of anything, but once the floodgate opened suddenly ALL I was aware of was the crap going on.
And often that gossip involved me. Or the backstabbing. Or the general pissiness.
I remember at my very last job being called into the office all of the time and informed that I was not being friendly enough to my co-workers and that people were complaining. I was there to work, not to make friends, and the idea that someone would complain about me for not being cuddly enough was just amazing to me.
Now, granted, I wasn't on my meds at the time, but I can GUAR-AN-TEE you that if I were to be working there now I would have the same mindset. There to work, not to cuddle.
And to be blindsided by drama when you have no idea what's going on? It's just dreadful.
So I think that I might have to start really living my life instead of hanging out on the internet a lot. I love my internet friends very much, especially the ones that are "off board" if you will. However, I think I really need a break. Which is a shame, because I really thought that the purpose of these forums was community and support.
I need to edit this to include that there is one board I belong to that is completely drama-free. It's a board for care givers of diabetic cats. It's an amazing group of caring women and I would be lost without them, even though my diabetic is no longer on this earth. They still welcome me. They're wonderful. And again, lost without them.
Friday, August 24, 2007
OCD and Clumsy
There are 2 parts of my personality which provide endless amusement to those who know me.
The first is an OCD quality in which before having a child I couldn't handle food on myself. I also couldn't stand things scattered around on the floor. My best friend used to throw paper on the floor when I was mid-rant because she knew it would shut me up long enough to pick up the paper and throw it in the trash. At this point, I would forget what I was ranting about in the first place. Having a child has removed some of these quirks, but I discovered one more this morning. I had to take the pile of bills to the mailbox. Before walking them out there I stacked them in order from largest to smallest. Now, I used to do that when folding laundry without even looking at it, but it really hadn't crossed my mind in awhile. Until I noticed myself doing it today.
My second quality is complete and utter clumsiness. I have ZERO grace. I can walk, usually, and I can almost always manage to sit down without falling down, but other than that, you'd better watch out. I'm like Godzilla swishing his tail through Tokyo. I have fallen off sofas, fallen out of my car into a mud puddle while attempting to extract my X-Box from said car, and walked smack into door jambs. Last night I ended up tripping over a broken glass that I KNEW was outside. I had placed it there. I had been waiting to throw it out into the trash bag when the bag was closer to full so that it wouldn't slice through the bottom of the bag. I was stupid. I ended up trying to sever 3 toes from my foot, and bled everywhere. So I staggered up the steps to the kitchen door and pushed the door open and hollered to Darling Husband "I need a paper towel RIGHT NOW." His response?
"Why?"
My response?
"Just get me the fucking towel!!!!"
He brought me 5.
Today I have a sore foot and a perfectly stacked pile of bills. Good day or bad day? You tell me.
The first is an OCD quality in which before having a child I couldn't handle food on myself. I also couldn't stand things scattered around on the floor. My best friend used to throw paper on the floor when I was mid-rant because she knew it would shut me up long enough to pick up the paper and throw it in the trash. At this point, I would forget what I was ranting about in the first place. Having a child has removed some of these quirks, but I discovered one more this morning. I had to take the pile of bills to the mailbox. Before walking them out there I stacked them in order from largest to smallest. Now, I used to do that when folding laundry without even looking at it, but it really hadn't crossed my mind in awhile. Until I noticed myself doing it today.
My second quality is complete and utter clumsiness. I have ZERO grace. I can walk, usually, and I can almost always manage to sit down without falling down, but other than that, you'd better watch out. I'm like Godzilla swishing his tail through Tokyo. I have fallen off sofas, fallen out of my car into a mud puddle while attempting to extract my X-Box from said car, and walked smack into door jambs. Last night I ended up tripping over a broken glass that I KNEW was outside. I had placed it there. I had been waiting to throw it out into the trash bag when the bag was closer to full so that it wouldn't slice through the bottom of the bag. I was stupid. I ended up trying to sever 3 toes from my foot, and bled everywhere. So I staggered up the steps to the kitchen door and pushed the door open and hollered to Darling Husband "I need a paper towel RIGHT NOW." His response?
"Why?"
My response?
"Just get me the fucking towel!!!!"
He brought me 5.
Today I have a sore foot and a perfectly stacked pile of bills. Good day or bad day? You tell me.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
My truck
That's Haldir. yes, I named my truck after a dead Elf.
Haldir died yesterday. Haldir has been the best and most favorite vehicle of my adult life. He's fun to drive, and I can actually use the bed to haul things. That's been great fun. I once hauled 3 large tanks of rats from one end of town to the other when I was moving in here with Rich.
Yesterday while I was driving Livvie around on errands I started to lose control of the wheel. By that I mean that the entire truck attempted to get into the right lane repeatedly, when the safest thing to do was to stay in the left. I attempted to communicate this to Haldir by yanking back on the wheel and throwing all my weight into staying to the left.
When we reached the grocery store I smelled burning. I popped the hood and couldn't locate the source of the burning. While I was there I also checked the power steering and coolant levels and both are fine.
So there it is. My truck is no longer safe to drive, and I have no other vehicle.
Guess we'll stay inside and watch TV every day.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Back to the doc
Today I have to go back and pick up some more drugs so I can up my dosages even more. Yeah, she finally called me last night to find out why I was wigging. I let her know that I'm currently swinging as fast as Britney and that it doesn't seem like a great place to be.
The cool thing is that until we know these meds will work long term she'll keep giving me samples so that I don't have to pay for something that doesn't work.
The not so cool thing is that I really don't see this particular combo of drugs working. I really don't. Which leads to:
Lithium
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From Wikipedia:
Lithium salts such as lithium carbonate, lithium citrate, and lithium orotate are mood stabilizers. They are used in the treatment of bipolar disorder, since unlike most other mood altering drugs, they counteract both mania and depression. Lithium can also be used to augment other antidepressant drugs. It is also sometimes prescribed as a preventive treatment for migraine disease and cluster headaches.
The active principle in these salts is the lithium ion Li+, which interacts with the normal function of sodium ions to produce numerous changes in the neurotransmitter activity of the brain. Therapeutically useful amounts of lithium are only slightly lower than toxic amounts, so the blood levels of lithium must be carefully monitored during treatment.
Common side effects include muscle tremors, twitching, ataxia, nephrogenic diabetes insipidus (polyuria and polydipsia) and seizures. Most of the side-effects are a result caused by the increased elimination of potassium.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
And yes, this is the same chemical that is used in batteries and also nuclear weapons.
So please keep your fingers crossed that this dosage on my current meds works. I'm now at the max prescribed dosage of both.
The cool thing is that until we know these meds will work long term she'll keep giving me samples so that I don't have to pay for something that doesn't work.
The not so cool thing is that I really don't see this particular combo of drugs working. I really don't. Which leads to:
Lithium
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From Wikipedia:
Lithium salts such as lithium carbonate, lithium citrate, and lithium orotate are mood stabilizers. They are used in the treatment of bipolar disorder, since unlike most other mood altering drugs, they counteract both mania and depression. Lithium can also be used to augment other antidepressant drugs. It is also sometimes prescribed as a preventive treatment for migraine disease and cluster headaches.
The active principle in these salts is the lithium ion Li+, which interacts with the normal function of sodium ions to produce numerous changes in the neurotransmitter activity of the brain. Therapeutically useful amounts of lithium are only slightly lower than toxic amounts, so the blood levels of lithium must be carefully monitored during treatment.
Common side effects include muscle tremors, twitching, ataxia, nephrogenic diabetes insipidus (polyuria and polydipsia) and seizures. Most of the side-effects are a result caused by the increased elimination of potassium.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
And yes, this is the same chemical that is used in batteries and also nuclear weapons.
So please keep your fingers crossed that this dosage on my current meds works. I'm now at the max prescribed dosage of both.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Shoulda knocked wood
Yep.
Today sucks. I have a call in to the doc to talk about possibly changing my meds.
On the plus side my kid took her naps WHEN she was supposed to. She's sleeping now, in fact, or I wouldn't be typing this as she could have given Ripley a run for her money this morning.
I'll post more after I talk to the doc. Right now I'm just too pissed.
ETA-- Still pissed. No call back.
Today sucks. I have a call in to the doc to talk about possibly changing my meds.
On the plus side my kid took her naps WHEN she was supposed to. She's sleeping now, in fact, or I wouldn't be typing this as she could have given Ripley a run for her money this morning.
I'll post more after I talk to the doc. Right now I'm just too pissed.
ETA-- Still pissed. No call back.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
And away we go...
I saw the doc on Thursday and we bumped up the dosage on both of my ridiculously spendy drugs. It worked practically instantly. I am in the low level of mania now where everything seems just peachy and nothing is really bothering me. I actually like my kid for a change instead of feeling like I was given the biggest demon seed ever.
This is the dangerous part of the disease. When you feel like this it's very easy to decide not to take your meds because you feel so good. Also, once the meds REALLY kick in you won't feel nearly this amazing. You'll feel normal.
And who wants to be normal, right?
It's a hard thing to keep on keeping on even though you know the dire consequences if you don't.
But I'll be good and keep taking my meds and wait for these super duper happy dappy feelings to go away. It'll be a shame when it happens, but worse is what I was. And I was reaching the point of intolerable.
Thanks for your support, everyone. It's received with much love.
This is the dangerous part of the disease. When you feel like this it's very easy to decide not to take your meds because you feel so good. Also, once the meds REALLY kick in you won't feel nearly this amazing. You'll feel normal.
And who wants to be normal, right?
It's a hard thing to keep on keeping on even though you know the dire consequences if you don't.
But I'll be good and keep taking my meds and wait for these super duper happy dappy feelings to go away. It'll be a shame when it happens, but worse is what I was. And I was reaching the point of intolerable.
Thanks for your support, everyone. It's received with much love.
Well feh.
My kid slept well most of the night last night.
I, however, woke up with her at 2 something and then couldn't get back to sleep until sometime after 4am.
Sigh.
I, however, woke up with her at 2 something and then couldn't get back to sleep until sometime after 4am.
Sigh.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
The Chicky Nacho
Starts with chips. Lovely homemade chips with just the right amount of salt on them. Then they put shredded chicken and a VERY small amount of tomatoes on. The chicken is marinated in God's own sauce. They're topped with a white creamy cheese sauce and then jalapenos if you ask. I always ask.
To eat them you need 8 hands because they always fall all over the place when you try to get one to your mouth. I have very rarely ended up with chicky nacho on myself though, so I consider myself an expert.
I used to be able to eat an entire order of them by myself. Not so much anymore now that I have a kid. Today I had to spend most of my lunch time cutting up a chicken nugget and fries for my kid, who LOVED her lunch. Who the hell knew that a Mexican place would serve chicken nuggets?
To eat them you need 8 hands because they always fall all over the place when you try to get one to your mouth. I have very rarely ended up with chicky nacho on myself though, so I consider myself an expert.
I used to be able to eat an entire order of them by myself. Not so much anymore now that I have a kid. Today I had to spend most of my lunch time cutting up a chicken nugget and fries for my kid, who LOVED her lunch. Who the hell knew that a Mexican place would serve chicken nuggets?
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I hate myself
I hate being Bipolar. I hate not knowing what's going on in my brain. I hate that meds seem to work for a short time only and not knowing if I need to bump up the dosage or switch meds altogether. I hate that when I get this way the slightest thing like my dog not peeing or my kid taking longer than 15 min to fall asleep will put me in an honest to God, seeing red level of rage.
I hate needing meds at all, and I especially hate needing meds that have no generic equivalent and cost about a gazillion dollars. I hate not having the gazillion dollars to pay out.
I hate that I have to go to the doctor today and I absolutely am furious that the only appointment I could get is a 15 min one. FIFTEEN MINUTES to deal with all of this shit. What the fuck ever.
I hate being a member of this "special little club" although we certainly do have some prestigious members.
Baudelaire
Beethoven
Churchill
Kurt Cobain
Richard Dreyfuss
Patty Duke
Emerson
Carrie Fisher
The Fitzgeralds
Hendrix
The list can go on, but I honestly don't feel like going all the way to Z.
And I am HATING the fact that my child will probably end up this way too. But hell, maybe she'll end up an Emerson rather than a Julie.
I hate needing meds at all, and I especially hate needing meds that have no generic equivalent and cost about a gazillion dollars. I hate not having the gazillion dollars to pay out.
I hate that I have to go to the doctor today and I absolutely am furious that the only appointment I could get is a 15 min one. FIFTEEN MINUTES to deal with all of this shit. What the fuck ever.
I hate being a member of this "special little club" although we certainly do have some prestigious members.
Baudelaire
Beethoven
Churchill
Kurt Cobain
Richard Dreyfuss
Patty Duke
Emerson
Carrie Fisher
The Fitzgeralds
Hendrix
The list can go on, but I honestly don't feel like going all the way to Z.
And I am HATING the fact that my child will probably end up this way too. But hell, maybe she'll end up an Emerson rather than a Julie.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
WooHOOO
I had actual adult company this morning. My friend was down from Manhattan for teachers' meetings at Sweet Little College and she stopped by. This is awesome, because I haven't seen her since Rich and I got married. The other awesome part was that I had genuine adult conversation when the kid wasn't butting in (And she butted in a lot).
So I realize that I do need to spend more time with other adults. Rich is an adult, but he lives here and so doesn't count in this case. I do realize now though that spending 90% of your time either with an infant or desperately seeking someone on the internet to talk to doesn't make for a healthy frame of mind. Neither does sitting and watching the Wiggles for 6 hours a day, interrupted only by naps. And those naps could run anywhere from 30 min-2 hours depending on how agreeable the kid is being. Which means I occasionally only get a half hour break from The Wiggles. Which is unacceptable by anyone's standards.
So I'm going to attempt to get out of the house more and associate with other people. Even if I have to take Livvie with me, at least I'll be interacting with others. Right?
I'll start with my shrink appointment tomorrow.
Maybe I'll even swing by Borders sometime this week and visit Ted. Livvie is wigged by his beard though, so I'll have to ask him to put a bag over his head like the unknown comic.
Yeah, that'll work.
So I realize that I do need to spend more time with other adults. Rich is an adult, but he lives here and so doesn't count in this case. I do realize now though that spending 90% of your time either with an infant or desperately seeking someone on the internet to talk to doesn't make for a healthy frame of mind. Neither does sitting and watching the Wiggles for 6 hours a day, interrupted only by naps. And those naps could run anywhere from 30 min-2 hours depending on how agreeable the kid is being. Which means I occasionally only get a half hour break from The Wiggles. Which is unacceptable by anyone's standards.
So I'm going to attempt to get out of the house more and associate with other people. Even if I have to take Livvie with me, at least I'll be interacting with others. Right?
I'll start with my shrink appointment tomorrow.
Maybe I'll even swing by Borders sometime this week and visit Ted. Livvie is wigged by his beard though, so I'll have to ask him to put a bag over his head like the unknown comic.
Yeah, that'll work.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Well
My kid walked today.
She's been taking a few steps here and there for the past week or so, and that's been freaky enough. This morning, however, while I was on the phone she pushed herself up off the floor and took 14 steps to walk from one side of the living room to the other.
The last 3 steps were more like running, because she was getting ready to topple over, but hey. It was walking.
My life is about to become a LOT more interesting.
She's been taking a few steps here and there for the past week or so, and that's been freaky enough. This morning, however, while I was on the phone she pushed herself up off the floor and took 14 steps to walk from one side of the living room to the other.
The last 3 steps were more like running, because she was getting ready to topple over, but hey. It was walking.
My life is about to become a LOT more interesting.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Night of the Lepus
With thanks to Joss Whedon-
Bunnies aren't just cute like everybody supposes
They got them hoppy legs and twitchy little noses
And what's with all the carrots?
What do they need such good eyesight for anyway?
Bunnies, bunnies
It must be bunnies
I figured out what the bunnies were doing in my yard. They were plotting the best way to consume EVERY ONE of our ornamental grass plants.
You know, we have an entire yard full of grass. WHY these little buttmunches need to eat our $1.75 per plant ornamentals is beyond me. However, apparently their plans consist of moving counter clockwise around the circle of the garden. They could be trying to raise a demon for all I know.
I'll totally be not surprised if I walk out there and find an upside down pentacle in the center, traced around the lilac tree.
Add the bunnies to the list of fauna that I need to shoot with the Taser. It'll be for the greater good. Who wants a giant Hell-Bunny running amok?
Bunnies aren't just cute like everybody supposes
They got them hoppy legs and twitchy little noses
And what's with all the carrots?
What do they need such good eyesight for anyway?
Bunnies, bunnies
It must be bunnies
I figured out what the bunnies were doing in my yard. They were plotting the best way to consume EVERY ONE of our ornamental grass plants.
You know, we have an entire yard full of grass. WHY these little buttmunches need to eat our $1.75 per plant ornamentals is beyond me. However, apparently their plans consist of moving counter clockwise around the circle of the garden. They could be trying to raise a demon for all I know.
I'll totally be not surprised if I walk out there and find an upside down pentacle in the center, traced around the lilac tree.
Add the bunnies to the list of fauna that I need to shoot with the Taser. It'll be for the greater good. Who wants a giant Hell-Bunny running amok?
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Men (Part 2)
For heaven's sake.
Yesterday I heard banging outside while Livvie was napping. The dogs thought someone was at the door and started their quiet "wuff" barking. Thank goodness they didn't wake her up. I went outside and Rich was out there. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was kicking plywood because there was a snake in the shed. He then went on to tell me that this snake was at least 5 ft long and was "not a blacksnake" so was probably poisonous. Possibly could even be a copperhead or a cotton mouth. I told him I was going to go look. I was informed I was not.
"That snake is 5 ft long, which means it can strike 5 ft. You're not going down there."
"Oh for heaven's sake, Rich. He's not gonna bite me."
Back and forth for about 5 minutes. I was informed that if I was bitten I could lose part of my leg.
So we stood on the deck and peered into the shed while drinking beer. Eventually I saw our little friend come slithering out of the room in the shed that was under construction. He had been nowhere near the plywood that Rich had been kicking.
"There he is, honey. Oh he's beautiful!"
"Where? I don't have my glasses on."
I retrieved Rich's glasses and he put them on.
"Honey, that snake is nowhere near 5 ft long. He's 3 at the most."
"Well it's still a really big snake."
I went online and googled our snake. He's a harmless milksnake.
Rich didn't believe me.
We continued drinking beer and watched him slither into a corner.
I then informed Rich that since I was the one wearing jeans I was going to go down and take a look at him.
"There is no way I'm letting you go down there first."
"Honey, let me???!!! I'm not afraid of him"
"I'm not either, I just don't have time to go to the hospital and possibly lose a day at work."
Nice to see you care.
So I got my shoes on and ran down to the shed to find Rich already down there poking around at things. Our snake was gone. I'm a bit sad. I would have loved to see him up close. Like in the process of picking him up and throwing him at my husband.
Yesterday I heard banging outside while Livvie was napping. The dogs thought someone was at the door and started their quiet "wuff" barking. Thank goodness they didn't wake her up. I went outside and Rich was out there. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was kicking plywood because there was a snake in the shed. He then went on to tell me that this snake was at least 5 ft long and was "not a blacksnake" so was probably poisonous. Possibly could even be a copperhead or a cotton mouth. I told him I was going to go look. I was informed I was not.
"That snake is 5 ft long, which means it can strike 5 ft. You're not going down there."
"Oh for heaven's sake, Rich. He's not gonna bite me."
Back and forth for about 5 minutes. I was informed that if I was bitten I could lose part of my leg.
So we stood on the deck and peered into the shed while drinking beer. Eventually I saw our little friend come slithering out of the room in the shed that was under construction. He had been nowhere near the plywood that Rich had been kicking.
"There he is, honey. Oh he's beautiful!"
"Where? I don't have my glasses on."
I retrieved Rich's glasses and he put them on.
"Honey, that snake is nowhere near 5 ft long. He's 3 at the most."
"Well it's still a really big snake."
I went online and googled our snake. He's a harmless milksnake.
Rich didn't believe me.
We continued drinking beer and watched him slither into a corner.
I then informed Rich that since I was the one wearing jeans I was going to go down and take a look at him.
"There is no way I'm letting you go down there first."
"Honey, let me???!!! I'm not afraid of him"
"I'm not either, I just don't have time to go to the hospital and possibly lose a day at work."
Nice to see you care.
So I got my shoes on and ran down to the shed to find Rich already down there poking around at things. Our snake was gone. I'm a bit sad. I would have loved to see him up close. Like in the process of picking him up and throwing him at my husband.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Men
After a conversation with BFF Xris via email last night while we watched Shark Week together, it has come to my attention that there aren't enough men in the world.
Oh, there are plenty of boys, and there's a ton of girls running around masquerading as men, but there aren't enough True Men. You know, the kind that can cut lumber without worrying about the saw, replace the spark plugs in a car without wondering where they go, and dig a hole fully expecting to get dirty. As far as that goes, there aren't enough men who know how to properly use a shovel in the first place.
I happened to marry one. Yep. I did. He can do anything that he decides to do, and his competence is a total turn on. The other day he framed and built a wall, cut a hole in the shed and turned it into a window complete with frame, and also actually put studs in the afore mentioned wall because the lumber he bought was a small bit warped. The man knows where and how to place studs. He also managed to find a nest of cockroaches in the shed, and even though he was completely skeeved by it he managed to kill them and remove the nest.
He wasn't self conscious about the fact that he was shirtless, he was covered in sweat and sawdust, and he was totally sexy.
Where are the rest of the men like that?
This conversation with Xris came up because we were watching Mike Rowe of the Dirty Jobs show on the Discovery Channel. Mike is a pip. He's hot, he's hilarious, and he shills for Ford which automatically kicks him up a notch. He can also do anything on the Dirty Jobs show that is required of him, and as the title of the show clearly states, he's not afraid to get dirty doing it. Last night he was testing shark bite suits and chopping chum. Stinky, old, decaying fish. Without gloves.
So Mike and my husband rock. If there are anymore of you out there, pipe in. And if any gals reading this know of some, pipe in too. I have an overwhelming need to know that these men exist. Because otherwise my daughter will end up with a pansy when she settles down.
Oh, there are plenty of boys, and there's a ton of girls running around masquerading as men, but there aren't enough True Men. You know, the kind that can cut lumber without worrying about the saw, replace the spark plugs in a car without wondering where they go, and dig a hole fully expecting to get dirty. As far as that goes, there aren't enough men who know how to properly use a shovel in the first place.
I happened to marry one. Yep. I did. He can do anything that he decides to do, and his competence is a total turn on. The other day he framed and built a wall, cut a hole in the shed and turned it into a window complete with frame, and also actually put studs in the afore mentioned wall because the lumber he bought was a small bit warped. The man knows where and how to place studs. He also managed to find a nest of cockroaches in the shed, and even though he was completely skeeved by it he managed to kill them and remove the nest.
He wasn't self conscious about the fact that he was shirtless, he was covered in sweat and sawdust, and he was totally sexy.
Where are the rest of the men like that?
This conversation with Xris came up because we were watching Mike Rowe of the Dirty Jobs show on the Discovery Channel. Mike is a pip. He's hot, he's hilarious, and he shills for Ford which automatically kicks him up a notch. He can also do anything on the Dirty Jobs show that is required of him, and as the title of the show clearly states, he's not afraid to get dirty doing it. Last night he was testing shark bite suits and chopping chum. Stinky, old, decaying fish. Without gloves.
So Mike and my husband rock. If there are anymore of you out there, pipe in. And if any gals reading this know of some, pipe in too. I have an overwhelming need to know that these men exist. Because otherwise my daughter will end up with a pansy when she settles down.
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