Friday, June 26, 2009

The End


I saw the Victory tour in a stadium in Philadelphia that no longer exists.

When I was a teenager at the end of our dance recital all of the dancers from the different pieces of the program assembled on stage and we all did Thriller. We rocked it. My best friend and I were wearing felt poodle skirts and we still rocked it.

I own the Thriller album on nothing but vinyl. It never seemed right to replace it. After that album the full on trainwreck began, and it seemed like holding on to the good times.

We'll never know what went on between him and those kids. Not for sure. My gut feeling was always that parents were taking advantage of a fucked up man who was making very poor choices. My feelings for him have alternated between revulsion and pity for many many years. No matter what, though, he rocked. He was The Bomb. Pure and simple. No one can touch him.

Last night my boy wouldn't go to sleep and I spent hours with CNN on because I couldn't change the channel. Turns out that Billie Jean will calm a screaming baby fairly well.

On our local 6pm news they reported that he had collapsed. I said to Rich, "He's number 3." Katie Couric then opened the news with the announcement. I cried.

At least his psychic pain is over.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Exhaustion

Jonas woke up for good around 9am after having been merely dozing all night and eating essentially 3 or 4 sips every 10 minutes. Today he took a 32 minute nap, a 13 minute nap, and a 25 minute nap. Otherwise he screamed. All day. ALL DAY.

He screamed because he couldn't bear to eat more than a few sips at a time because it hurt him. So he was starving. And tired.

He's been barfing again. 3-4 times a day we've been getting some heinous barfs. Otherwise he's gagging and choking independent of eating. He can't sleep on his back longer than 5 minutes without waking up screaming. Last night overnight he was making the cat pre-barf noises but nothing happened. His sinus congestion is out of control. Overnights he's having breathing issues. So he's been sleeping on me.

The doctor called me at 5 today and we got our first dose of Zantac into Jonas at 6pm. She hustled getting the pharmacy to fill the scrip.

Zantac. All the cool kids are doing it.

Neither Rich nor I have showered or brushed our teeth yet today. We've been trading off one kid for the other all day. Livvie was especially needy today, naturally, so other than intensive childcare today was a total bust.

At 820 I changed Jonas's diaper and put pajamas on him and then got him almost to sleep. I swaddled him. He fell asleep at 829. Against all rules he is sleeping on his Boppy in order to be elevated a bit. He's been making noises for the past 5 minutes now, on and off. Regardless, this is the most sleep he's had all day. I don't know if it's the Zantac or what. I don't care at this point.

The past week has been such a frigging nightmare that I'm smoking again. Rock on. Way to fail, Jules.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Adventures in Raleigh

This morning I had to go downtown to get copies of Livvie's birth certificate so she can attend Wake County preschool this fall. I printed directions to the Vital Records office and headed into Raleigh.

So when I found the place I knew exactly where it was. Used to be a diner there but now there's a motel and a Quiznos. It's on the way back out of town, and I used to see it every day on my way home from work and never knew what the building was.

There's 30 minute parking on the side of the building, and we go in with the hoss of a double stroller, and the dude tells me to sign in. I see on the paper that it's $30 per cert. I said, "I thought the cost was $15?" he said, "It's $30 if you want it today." I said oh ok, I thought they meant that it was $30 + $15 extra. so he says, "what county?" I said Wake. He said, "Go down to the Register of Deeds. It's $10, and they give it to you right there." Woohoo. So he gives me printed out directions and explains how to get there.

I follow the directions, and I parallel park on the first try one inch from the curb in that Escape. We get to the sidewalk, and I look at the map. A guy comes up and says, "Need directions?" I told him I needed to go to the Bank of America building. He says he's going there too so follow him. So I do. We get there, and there's a HUGE staircase and an escalator. No ramp. Fuck. So he says there's a side entrance, and we go around that way. HUGE hill that I have to push 2 kids up. Get to the top. More steps. He's like, "Whatever." and grabs one end of the stroller, and I grab the other end, and we carry it up. I thank him, and he goes off to help another damsel, I'm sure.

So I go to the 3rd floor and walk into the office, and there's no one else there. Yay me. The dude tells me what he needs from me, and I hand him the letter from Wake County Public Schools. It gets me a free one! So I've paid $10 for 2 certificates instead of $60 at this point.

On my way out I notice a small elevator that says "garage" over it. BRILLIANT. I use it and go to street level parking. There's an exit that I need, but it has caution tape. I ask the guard if I can use it and he says no, go use the other one. So we cross the garage and come out on another street. I have no idea where I am. I take a guess and turn right and start walking. Then I start recognizing stuff, and lo and behold there's my car. Woohoo.

I get us in and I think to myself, ok, I need McDowell. How would one get there? So I go to the next street and turn right, and then I mosey along and make another turn, and then up aways there's McDowell! I did it! All by myself!

Whew.

My thighs, calves, and biceps hurt from that hill, but otherwise rock on man.

Monday, June 08, 2009

Hey Nina

Julie's Dewey Decimal Section:

107 Education, research & related topics

Julie = 01295 = 012+95 = 107


Class:
100 Philosophy & Psychology


Contains:
Books on metaphysics, logic, ethics and philosophy.



What it says about you:
You're a careful thinker, but your life can be complicated and hard for others to understand at times. You try to explain things and strive to express yourself.

Find your Dewey Decimal Section at Spacefem.com