X marks the spot -- from Lynlee

"X" your confessions:

[ ] I'm afraid of the quiet
[ ] I am really ticklish
[ ] I'm afraid of the dark
[X] I'm afraid of facing my back to open doors at night (or anytime, for that matter)
[ ] I believe in true love
[ ] I've run away from home
[X] I listen to political music (I'm counting my friend Steve's "angry" album, here)
[ ] I collect comic books
[X] I shut others out when I'm sad
[ ] I open up to others easily
[X] I am keeping a secret
[X] I watch the news
[ ] I own more than 5 rap CDs
[X] I own something from Hot Topic (well, I did until it was ruined by mold)
[X] I love Disney movies (some of them, anyway)
[X] I'm a sucker for blue eyes (or brown, doesn't matter)
[X] I don't kill bugs
[X] I curse regularly
[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name
[ ] I've slipped out an "lol" in actual conversation
[ ] I love spam (spam spam spam spam spammity spam!!)
[ ] I bake well
[X] I have worn pajamas to class
[ ] I have owned something from Abercrombie
[X] I have a job
[ ] I love Martha Stewart
[X] I've tried alcohol
[ ] I drink alcohol on a regular basis
[ ] I've tried a cigarette
[ ] I've smoked a pack in one day
[ ] I have cough drops when I'm not sick
[ ] I can't swallow pills
[X] I have many scars
[X] I've been out of this country
[ ] I can't sleep if there's a spider in the room
[X] I love chocolate
[ ] I bite my nails
[ ] I'm comfortable with being myself around EVERYONE
[X] I play computer games when I'm bored
[X] Gotten lost in the city
[X] Seen a shooting star
[X] Had a serious surgery
[X] Hugged and/or kissed a stranger (gotta love Latinos)
[ ] Been arrested
[X] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator
[ ] Made out in an elevator
[X] Swore at my parents
[ ] Kicked a guy where it hurts
[X] Gotten stitches
[X] Bitten someone (but only because my mom MADE me)
[X] Crashed into a car (with my wheelchair trying to go across the seriously sloped Levitt arena parking lot when it was covered in ice)
[ ] Shoplifted
[ ] Been fired
[X] Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
[ ] Stolen money/profitable items from work
[X] Stolen supplies from work
[X] Had a crush on a teacher/coach
[ ] Slept with a co-worker
[ ] Been married
[ ] Gotten divorced
[X] Saw someone/something dying
[ ] Been to Canada
[X] Been on a plane
[ ] Thrown up in a bar

Overdue health and NOLA updates

Apparently my mitral valve prolapse (which my cardiologist also heard) is not serious enough to be seen on a ultrasound, so Dr. B (my cardiologist) is not worried about it at all. She DID, however, see that my tricuspid valve (the one between the RIGHT atrium and ventricle) is wonky, but she said that particular valve just isn't all that important. She told me about a 90-year-old Indian woman in the SW she saw once that popped hers completely apart carrying a sheep down a mountain. She declined having the valve repaired, and a year later she was still carting sheep down the mountain. Since I'm probably going to be here until at least February, Dr. B did go ahead and switch my prescription vasodilator to a different one. I take the medicine to dilate the blood vessels in my legs to reduce edema, and turns out a side effect of Adalat (the med I was taking) is edema. Not only that, but it is such a powerful vasodilator that it tricks the heart and makes it pump harder and faster, thus a potential cause of my resting heart rate (80 beats per minute on average, sometimes higher) and my heart palpitations.

See, this is why when taking "heart" medications, you should really be under the care/supervision of a cardiologist. Make a note, kids.

Dr. B had been reluctant to switch the med last month when she wasn't sure how long I'd be here. She's a conscientious doctor and likes to monitor the patients after a med switch. Imagine that! ::grin:: When she heard I'd be here for at least two more months, she switched me to the lowest dose of Norvasc. Now we just keep an eye on my feet. If I notice swelling, I'm to double my dose. If that doesn't work, we try another med. I started the Norvasc today, and I HAVE noticed that my chest doesn't feel as heavy. Keep your fingers crossed.

Now, about being here. UNO has received authorization for 400 single-wide (16' X 32') FEMA trailers for faculty and student housing for next semester. I talked to Barney last Friday, and he said they likely won't even arrive until February -- two to three weeks AFTER the Spring semester starts. I just don't see how I can live in a single-wide with Reba and at least one other person (they are two bedroom trailers), not to mention I'm sure the bathroom situation would be worse than my campus apartment. So I may be here for a while longer. As such, I will probably enroll in nine hours of research and get my review article cranked out. If I don't, I'll receive a U in the said nine hours of research, and then I might as well start looking for that bank teller job my grandmother always wanted me to get. I am not going there! I'm not!

Holiday Eating Tips

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like in single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards!!!!!!!!!!!!

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

ENJOY!

From one of my online lists

TEN FIRSTS
First Best Friend: My sister
First Screen Name: Diceros
First Pet: Dartanion
First Piercing: Ears (only)
First Crush: Gregg in the 4th grade
First CD: A country mix
First Car: 1984 Dodge Ram Van
First True Love: John the physics grad (you caught me on a day I'll admit it)
First Stuffed Animal: First I remember were a baby seal and a bear in plaid overalls
First Trip: Home from the hospital after I was born

NINE LASTS
Last Car Ride: This morning
Last Movie Seen: HP and the Goblet of Fire
Last Phone Call: Kender saying she was on her way for lunch
Last CD Played: Currently a mix CD I made for studying
Last Bubble bath: Too long ago to remember
The Last time you Cried: Couple of days ago
Last time you laughed: Couple of minutes ago in the bathroom with Maria
Last time you fell: Years ago, thank goodness -- I always seriously hurt myself when I fall

EIGHT HAVE YOU EVERS
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: No
Have you ever been arrested: No
Have you ever skinny dipped: No
Have you ever been on tv: Yes, many times
Have you ever kissed someone and then regreted it: No
Have you ever been to a concert: Yes
Have you ever gone commando: Yes, but only because I had taken a shower and then realized I was out of undies

SEVEN THINGS YOU ARE WEARING
1. My ever-present rhino ring
2. Birthstone stud in my second ear piercing of my left ear
3. My favorite pair of jeans
4. A T-shirt I got from the Memphis Zoo
5. Bracelet of jade, onyx, and undetermined stones I bought myself
6. Bracelet of hematite, tiger eye, onyx, carnelian, and blue and green quartz my brother gave me
7. A comfy black sweater

SIX THINGS YOU'VE DONE TODAY
1. Found some journal articles on the red wolf for an assignment due Friday
2. Picked the discussion articles for next week's conservation genetics class
3. Had lunch with Kender and Will
4. Peed
5. Visited with Isabel across the hall
6. Talked to Moonchild on the phone

FIVE PEOPLE YOU HANG OUT WITH TODAY
1. Kender
2. Will
3. Isabel
4. Maria
5. My Reba

FOUR PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ALMOST ANYTHING TO
1. Kender
2. Moonchild
3. Hywela
4. Nay

THREE CHOICES
1. Hot or Cold: Hot
2. Black or white: Black
3. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate

TWO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. Make a contribution in my career field
2. Find out what a romantic relationship is all about -- even if I just do it once

ONE THING YOU REGRET
1. Never working out things completely with my sister

PT and pretties

Let me just go on record now as saying . . .

. . . I LOVE physical therapy!

I got all kinds of things manipulated and stretched, making my blood circulate, and at one point I almost fell asleep on poor Sheryl. She also taught me a great little exercise to do when this tiny muscle at the base of my skull starts bothering me. I just did it right before starting on this entry, and the muscle quit hurting like that! ::snaps fingers::

As I was getting ready to leave, Sheryl told Mom and me about a jewelry sale they were having in the lobby of the front entrance. We headed around there, and I lost my fool mind. Most of the stuff they had was stuff I don't like -- semiprecious gemstones, a lot of gold -- you know, stuff everyone NORMAL likes. They did, however, have some lovely amber and some nice jade. You'll all be shocked to learn I didn't buy any amber. Wait, wait -- let me explain. The unusual pieces I really REALLY liked were way overpriced. I did, however, buy a round peridot set in a thick silver band, and while it IS a semiprecious gemstone, it is my birthstone and a rather "unusual" one in that you don't see many people wearing it. Most jewelers set it in gold which is a TRAVESTY because it takes away from the shine and beauty. Silver is a much better setting. I also bought a multi-hued jade bracelet with a few bits of onyx thrown in for good measure. At least, the lady SAYS they're all jade, but I think it's two (maybe three) shades of jade. There's definitely green and lavender jade, the opaque white could be jade or could be quartz, and I think the clearer stones are moonstone. I'll ask Nay the next time I see her.

Updates

Monday I had my first PT appointment, so since I was supposed to get out of my chair, I finally started my period. Needless to say, I didn't get out of my chair. My therapist Sheryl is pretty awesome -- very thorough and very open. She started to have a fit about me not leaning against the back of my chair, but when I explained to her why I've never allowed anyone to build it out, she listened to me and conceded it was probably best for me. She took a lot of measurements, and we ended with her stretching my elbows and shoulders. I even got a bit of a shoulder and upper back massage as she was checking the tightness in my shoulders. AAAAHH!! ::grin:: When she was stretching and checking the contracture in my left elbow, I felt a burning which at the time I attributed to the muscle being stretched. Found out when I was getting ready for bed that night that she had actually accidentally torn the skin in the crook of my elbow. Whoops! You know, I never realized that skin tears can hurt SO BAD!

After PT, Mom and I got lunch at Mickey D's (and I remembered why I don't eat there very often -- UGH!) and then headed for Salina to check out a van I'd seen in Friday's "Wheels For You" paper. We'd called the sales rep I'd talked to on Saturday, so he had the van out front and open for us when we got there. I rolled up on the lift and raised myself up into it like I already owned it, then he grabbed a tag and we headed off for a test drive. We talked price after, Mom got a quote on tags, and I signed all the papers. Drove home, put my FEMA and Sept./Oct. stipend checks in the bank, drew up a cashier's check, and Mom and Dad went back to get the van.

Braved the frigid wind on Tuesday to go to Hutch to get insurance on my new van and go to the pulmonologist.

Got to the pulmonary function test fifteen minutes early. They got me right in, performed very few tests compared to the PFT I did in NOLA, and I was done an hour and fifteen minutes before my appointment with the doc. Turned out to be a good thing since there were labs and x-rays to do that no one had told me about. Labs always take forever on me because I'm a hard stick under the best of circumstances (my blood vessels are small and roll all over the place), but get me cold and you ain't gettin' ANY blood without at least one hot pack. When I came out, I literally looked like a human pin-cushion with bandages on both hands (the blood chem draw -- one miss and one success) and one wrist (the blood gas draw -- I always wonder how many people I pass on the street think I've attempted suicide). X-rays went quickly, then it was hurry up and wait for the doc.

Pulmonology appointment was fine -- for me. I learned I basically ventilate off my right lung only since about two thirds of my left lung is squished to invisibility. The bottom third is there and all expanded though. I don't need any extra asthma meds, but he gave me samples of Allegra to try to help with mucus if I get a lot, and he also told me to try OTC Mucinex. I really like this doc because he took the time to go through EVERYTHING -- WITH ME. I also liked when he said, "If you get a cold, I want to know about it. If you get a sinus infection, I want to know about it. If you start making more mucus, I want to know about it. If you feel like your asthma is changing, I want to know about it." He's thorough, he knows how serious pneumonia or ANY lung stuff can be for us (I suspect he knew even BEFORE he took care of P last year when he almost died twice), and he took the time to give me literature on asthma when I told him no one has ever educated me about it.

Yesterday I went on campus to get my toxicology quiz done. It was due by noon, I only had two of nine questions completed, and I just wasn't getting anything done at home. Got it done, had lunch with Lunarbabe (sans Kender since she was home sick -- ::waves at Kender::), and hung out with P for a while and watched an episode of "Numb3rs." When Mom got there, it was shower time (lots of hot water and the bedroom heater cranked -- poor Mom), then off to Wally World to buy heavy curtains for my room and a couple of convex mirrors for Moby (that's what I've decided to call the van, thanks to E). I splurged on a peace symbol keychain -- if I can't have the hippie '71 VW Westphalia I wanted, I'll get the hippie keychain!

It's official

Two months and two weeks (exactly) after I left NOLA thinking "I'll only be gone three or four days," I can now with certainty say . . .

. . . pretty much everything in my apartment is toast.

The visible mold goes up the walls three to four feet, so everything touching them -- like a handmade quilt from my grandmother, a comforter my mom made, my comfy sweaters, and probably the rhino picture Z drew for me years ago and the puzzles my now-dead grandfather gave me -- are infected.

My bed is infected.

Some of my books are infected.

My papers -- including family genealogy -- are infected.

The box holding my essential oils -- hundreds of dollars and years of accumulation worth -- buckled when it was lifted. Chad says the oils inside are fine. I can only hope he's right.

The box in the closet holding a blanket and slippers my mom crocheted for me is infected.

Chad took "a few" pictures he thought were OK, as many books as he could, my jewelry, the filing cabinet, some clothes he thinks are OK, and the box of oils. He's going to keep it in his garage until I come back.

Most of that may have to be thrown away anyway just to be safe. You can't mess around with mold.

Minimalist is good, right?

Click click click

Had a doctor's appointment this morning about my aching back and some chest pain. Some of the pain is my asthma, but he said he heard some "clicking" in my heart. Thinks I might have a leaky valve. I'm waiting for the cardiologist to call me with an appointment.

Word to the Wise

It's not a good idea to try to reduce your consumption of carbohydrates when you are suffering from full-blown PMS. I have managed to not have a can of pop (which is easy to substitute with tea, though I will have to buy more of a selection now that I have money), but resisting the dark chocolate Hershey's Kisses has been murder! Kudos to me though -- I've only eaten three in the last hour. Distract yourself with difficult reading -- that's the ticket.

But let's just say it's a DAMN good thing there are no Cheetos Puffs in the house . . . . I'd even settle for crunchy Cheetos. Or Doritos.

This was prompted not by a general concern for overall health and body weight (which is reason enough, certainly), but by a comment made by Alton Brown on last night's episode of "Good Eats" (on the Food Network, for those of you living under a rock). He was making his own protein power bars and discussing carbs, fats, and proteins. He said that high carb intake by people who do not exercise afterwards leads to subsequent blood glucose crash and adrenaline release. I have noticed for months that a good proportion of my "anxiety attacks" come after I have either eaten a lot of carbs or haven't eaten for a long time and then have a meal -- AND they resemble an adrenaline rush (shakes, high heart rate with resultant headache, low body temp). I knew there was a connection, but I couldn't figure out the exact cause and effect. Alton Brown's comment last night got me thinking, so I decided to experiment. I'd hypothetically not consume any refined carbs and see how I felt throughout the day. Given my current, aforementioned physiological state, I'd say I'm doing pretty well. AND I'm feeling pretty well -- no anxiety attacks/adrenaline rushes so far.

But it's taking all I have not to call Mom and have her pick up some Cheetos Puffs on her way home from work . . . .

The Gullibility Factor Test

Your GF score is 85.
(Out of a range of 0 - 100, where 0 = mind slave, and 100 = free thinker.)

Free Thinker

Welcome to the top 5%. You're a true free thinker and a person who is well informed about the reality in which you live. Although you may have been easily manipulated earlier in life, you eventually gained lucidity and developed a healthy sense of skepticism that you now automatically apply to your observations and experiences. You are endlessly curious about human behavior and the nature of the universe, and you have one or more lifestyle habits that most people would consider odd or unusual. You are not only of very high intelligence, you are also extremely creative in one or more areas (music, art, software development, inventing, etc.)

If you were in The Matrix, you would have taken the red pill, completed the combat training, and started fighting (and beating) agents from day one.

Your architects: You have cast off reality distortions taught to you by your parents, schooling, corporate advertising and government propaganda. You create your own beliefs based on what serves you best, without much regard for what the rest of the crowd is doing. You are guided by your own internal code of ethics (which may or may not agree with politically-correct ethical codes) rather than any pre-set system of ethics (such as from any one religion).

Check it out.

FINALLY!!

I got my September and October stipends in the mail today -- after waiting for them for an entire month! I also got my November stipend today.

Someone explain to me how that works.

::happy, crazy gimp dancing::

So now I have one paycheck to pay my NOLA attendants for the work they did in August, with some left over. I have at least one paycheck ($1600) to put toward a van, in addition to the $1000 my department gave me for Xmas last year and the $4000+ from FEMA I've been rat-holing. What to do with the third check, besides attempt to pay the attendant service and try to help with bills? I say "attempt" and "try" because my folks have a nasty habit of not letting me help with stuff here. If they refuse, I can always make a big payment to Discover.

I love Fiona Apple!

That's all I have to say.

You may return to your day.

Camp Weekend -- Saturday/Sunday

After FINALLY getting to sleep at 5:00 a.m. Saturday morning, we -- well, Gina and I, anyway -- were awakened at 7:30 by little almost-four-year-old Breanna yelling "GINA!" from the top of the stairs. We found out later that she was extremely upset that her godmother wasn't up to play. About 9:00 we decided to start getting up since we were on duty for making lunch. Yes, we HAD to think that much ahead since G and I were sharing the use of her lift.

Saturday was just a slow, lazy day. The weather started off nice, but as the day wore on it got cloudy, cold, and started raining. Perfect weather for sitting around, playing games and chatting. So we did. I spent a fair chunk of time talking with Suz which I LOVED. As I mentioned before, she lives in CA, so we rarely see each other, and I've gotten lazy about calling people. I talked to her right after she had to put her service dog to sleep (which was almost three months ago), and I can't remember the last time I talked to her before that. So we sat, holding hands and talking about everything and nothing. Suz has always had phenomenal energy, even before I knew how to recognize it, and I always find it comforting and grounding to be in her presence. There are a couple of other people who fall into that category, too, but I won't mention any names (Kender, Lady, Psi, 'Wela, Moonchild).

After supper, we had a candy hide and costume contest for the kids. While the kids were getting into their costumes, folks hid little bags of candy around the main hall. Jen's son Grant hadn't brought a costume but really wanted to dress up -- so we made him into a girl. Jen did his makeup, Gina contributed a bra, Suz loaned him a spaghetti-strap tank top with the Superman "S" logo, Tammy tied a leopard print blanket around his waist with a pink striped belt for a skirt, and Jen's black loafers and silver earrings and my mahogany obsidian beads completed the outfit.

He'll probably need therapy later in life, but he took second prize.

After the contest, the kids played with their prizes (everyone got goody bags with candy and small toys). Joy birthed the idea of the "spider nose ring" -- she broke the part of a spider ring that goes around your finger and then put it on one nostril -- and Suz and I quickly followed suit. Breanna kept trying to take mine off because she thought it was "making your nose hurt." Mama Jenni's translation -- she thought the ring was actually going THROUGH my nostril, and it was freaking her out. Not long after that, Breanna started wrapping her white feather boa around my neck because she wanted to "see how you look." Her long white and clear dress up beads followed, and she declared me "beautiful" (spider nose ring and all). Jenni took a picture, and I'm hoping she sends it to me, because it's a riot. The blue spider on my nose makes the entire ensemble!

Shortly thereafter, Tom, Gregg, and Mark got a fire going in the fireplace (no outside campfire this year ::pout::), and some of us played campfire with the kids. We told "scary" stories (the scariest was Suz's impromptu story of the killer bologna) and sang songs. Some of us (::innocent look::) were drinking special hot cocoa and pretending it was normal. Much later, it was game time again, and I had many laughs watching Suz, John, Mary, Mary's bf, and others playing a game called "Loaded Questions." A laugh a minute.

I finally went downstairs (escorted by John) about 2:30 or 3:00. The previous night's crew, minus Suz, John, and me but plus Jennifer's cousin Kyle, had gone down long before to chat and have a couple of drinks. When I entered, I was laughingly informed that Kyle had bought Jen for the night for $5.

Bedtime Saturday night, er, Sunday morning -- a lazy 4:00 a.m.

To be continued . . . .

Music fix

Melissa and Fiona arrived today in the mail (side note -- Steve apparently arrived yesterday, but I can't get those until I see Edie). Melissa is currently jamming from Dad's surround sound.

::singing:: Somebody bring me some water. Can't you see it's out of control. Baby's got my heart, and my baby's got my mind, but tonight the sweet devil, sweet devil's got my soul.

Camp Weekend -- Friday/Saturday

The weekend started at 5:15 Friday morning when I had to get up. Didn't grouse as much as I usually do considering I was heading for fun times. As we were driving through town to get on the interstate, I noticed the gas gauge was on "E." Now in P's van, that could mean you still have 1/4 of a tank or you could be on fumes. I ask Mom if she thinks we should stop and get gas and she says, "No, no. We have a 1/4 of a tank -- that's more than enough to get you to Gina's and me to work."

You know where this is going, right?

So on South-235 just after the Zoo Blvd exit, the van starts choking. We make it to within sight of the Central exit -- where there is a QT mocking us -- before it dies completely. Mom tries to call Hubcap both on his cell and at Nay's, but she can't get him. She notifies work she's going to be late (it's about ten before 7:00, and she's supposed to be there at 7:30), then gets roadside assistance through 911. The entire time, I'm laughing my fanny off. Mom, needless to say, was not as amused as I was. We never HAVE had the same sense of humor . . . .

The very nice roadside assistance man shows up within 15 minutes, we get off on Central to load up on petrol, and I get to Gina's by 7:25. I'm SO jealous of Gina's apartment. It's a spacious two bedroom with a closet for W/D (which came with the apartment) in the hallway -- and it's only $460. I pay $510 for a 1/4 of the space. It's not fair. ::frown, pout::

Jump to -- we arrive at Chihowa. It's been about four years since I've been "home," and except for the concrete around the pool that's been painted aquamarine (I bet THAT'S slippery when wet), it looks the same. ::sigh:: Man, I love that place. I attended MDA camp at Chihowa from age 8 until 21, then went as a JC at 23. For whatever reason, I wasn't allowed to be a staff member like several of my pals who had MD, but I digress. The friendships I formed at Chihowa helped make me who I am, for better or for worse. The friends I have from here are the kind you can not talk to for months or even years, but when you get together again, you don't notice except that you sit for hours and talk and talk. Well, now that I think about it, we did that even when we saw each other all the time.

So we unload and get checked in with the manager. Because of the check-in, we're (Gina, Jen, Jen's son Grant, Heidi, Sharon, Jenni, Jenni's little girl Breanna, and me) the first to arrive. At one point, the manager makes the comment that the church that runs the place is maybe getting new beds soon. I look at the beds, laugh, and say, "It's a good thing, 'cause I think these are the same beds from when I started coming at EIGHT."

I'm 34, for those of you who don't know.

And I'm not exaggerating about how old the beds are.

Gina's cousin Tammy arrives, and Jen's mom and nephew are close behind. After they unload, we all head in to Lawrence to eat. Our waiter is the most adorable little nerd of a guy, and he's wearing the Superman "S" on his belt buckle. Loved it! At one point, Jen bets Tammy $5 to comment to the guy about it, which she does. I don't think Jen ever paid up on that $5, though . . . . After supper, Jen, Tammy, Gina, and I head to the store to get our portion of the groceries for the weekend. On the way, Jen hits a doozy bump which makes Tammy bounce on the bench at the back of the van. She exclaims, "Whoa! I think I lost my gizzard!" I start giggling (remember, I got up at 5:15, and it's now about 6:30 or 7:00) as Jen asks whether people even have gizzards. Gina says no, but birds do. "It's part of their digestive system," she says in her teacher voice before adding a little uncertainly, "I think it's in their neck." Tammy and I start laughing hysterically at this. Before you know it, we're all laughing like maniacs (I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard), and it's the first repeated joke of the weekend.

"Shut up, or I'll rip out your gizzard."

"Oh yeah?" ::covers neck with hands:: "Now you can't get to it!"

When we get back to camp what seemed like HOURS later (after stopping at two gas stations for coffee because the others wanted it after seeing the closed Starbucks in the grocery store -- only in a college town), several others had arrived -- including a portion of the Stolz crew. For those who haven't been associated with MDA in any of the last 20+ years -- Suzanne (Suz) has been one of my closest gimp pals for over 20 years. At one point or another, all of her five siblings have been attendants at camp, as well as a good number of her cousins. We used to joke that if Suz's clan ever stopped going to camp, the camp would be half what it used to be. She, three of her sibs, her niece and nephew, and a couple of cousins and THEIR kids had arrived while we were at the store, with Suz having only gotten in the state (from CA) at about 1:00 that afternoon. One of her sibs, John, comes running at me as soon as I come through the front door, hugging and kissing me. John unloads our groceries for us (sweetie that he is), and I follow him into the kitchen to chat while we put things away. A young woman walks past me and says, "Hi, Dawn." Oh crap, I hate when that happens. Who was that? As John and I are in the kitchen, the same young woman comes in and I suddenly recognize her -- Mary, Suz and John's baby sister. I've known this girl since she was like three or four, and now she's a beautiful woman of 21, in college majoring in women's studies and mass communications.

God, I'm getting old.

Friday evening commences with some of us playing one of Gina's games (I don't remember what it's called, but it has an EXTREMELY annoying timer on it) while others play dominoes. I start off with the word game in which I get to make an assessment of my friend Jennifer's boyfriend. Yes, Jen, Jenni, and Jennifer. Chris (the latter's bf) is very intelligent and sweet as hell. I adore him, and I can't tell you how happy I am that Jennifer has found him.

It also makes me want to stick my head in a gas stove, but I digress . . . .

Fairly late (around one or two, I guess) Tammy, Jen, Gina, Kerri, and I head downstairs to our room and get into bed. Jennifer and Chris come in, and eventually Suz and John do, too. We all sit around in the dark and laugh and joke and talk. I learn through the conversation that Jen is warm for John, which I find highly amusing since Nay and I suspect the boy is gay. I also learn Chris's assessment of ME. I don't know how the subject came up (I think I was starting to doze), but I hear him say, "I learned a lot about you girls playing that game earlier. I learned that Dawn and Sarah (another attendant who I just met this weekend) are brilliant, and the rest of you have a LOT of catching up to do."

"What?" I ask. "Just because I talked about radioactive decay to describe the word 'half-life'?"

"Among other things," he says. He never did elaborate.

Fortunately, no one seemed to be offended. I, however, was embarrassed. I hate when people say I'm smarter than someone else.

The laughing and joking continued until very late -- so late, in fact, that I start getting grouchy. Scratch that. I became a right royal bitch. I think I even asked at one point, "Do you guys think you can shut the f--- up soon so I can go to sleep?" Everyone finally quieted down at 5:00.

Up for 23 1/2 hours. I haven't done that for YEARS. There's a reason.

To quote Danny Glover from the "Lethal Weapon" movies -- I'm too old for this s---.

To be continued . . . .

Music and Old Friends

I have gone on a music free-for-all. I've ordered four CDs from an old acquaintance of mine from my master's days who is a VERY talented musician. THEN I went on Amazon and ordered Fiona Apple's new album Extraordinary Machine, her second album When the Pawn Hits, and Melissa Etheridge's greatest hits album The Road Less Traveled. ::sigh:: I was seriously in need of new music.

In other news:

I'm heading to Lawrence tomorrow for a three day Fall retreat at my old MD camp. My friends Gina and Carla have been organizing this for three or four years now. It lets all us old fogies who are too old to go to camp get together and have some bonding time. I'm really looking forward to it.

Speaking of which, I need to go pack.

The Wise Woman's Stone

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food.

The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime.

But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. "I've been thinking," he said. "I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me this stone."

Sometimes it not the wealth you have but what's inside you that others need.

~Author Unknown~

From Adam -- Gator gives major case of indigestion

Burmese pythons, don't try this at home. Warning -- graphic photo.

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/10/1006_051006_pythoneatsgator.html

Weekend Update

Got my hair cut Friday, then went and bought a radio/CD player for my office at WSU, along with some blank CDRs to make music CDs.

Got up Saturday and rode with Mom to P's place. Watched the last two eps of "Numb3rs" -- is it my imagination, or is Charlie just getting cuter? ::le drool, le pant:: At around 10:00, I met Edie at Hubbard Hall to use the bathroom, then she and I rode the gimp bus to the Ren Faire.

I didn't get much shopping done, but I had a blast. Edie and I wandered, occasionally meeting up with her hubby and two boys. Her youngest kept having to show off his purchases (including some nice arrowheads). He's a doll. I saw Creekmores and of course had to stop and catch up with both of them. Nancy pulled out a mahogany obsidian necklace she'd made. For the longest time, she's had this MO necklace that was too long for me to wear as a single strand but too short to double up. I also didn't like that the beads were faceted -- made it difficult to see the colors of the glass. I told her a long time ago that if she ever made a shorter necklace out of round beads, I'd buy it in a heartbeat. Well, yesterday, there it was. She pulled it out of a box and put it on my neck, and there it wanted to stay. I knew it was going to be expensive, but a deal's a deal -- and I had $50 Melissa had sent me with my birthday present with explicit instructions to spoil myself, $50 I had held on to specifically to be spent at the Faire. When I asked Nancy how much it was, she just shook her head. She said, "I got those beads about six months after you moved. I made the necklace, then realized I had no way to get in touch with you to see if you were still interested. I made that necklace just for you, and I'm not taking any money from you for it. I knew I'd see you again sooner or later." You know I almost cried.

After that, Edie and I decided it was food time, then we set off wandering again. I was going to call my pal Lynlee, but then I saw 'Wela and Doug. I was ready to introduce them to Edie when I noticed Doug and Edie hugging. Turns out they used to be roommates/great pals about 15 years ago. ::shakes head:: Small freaking world. Pretty soon, the duchess and her hubby had to run off to a knighting, and as I turned around, again deciding it was time to try calling Lynlee, there she was. I introduced her to Edie, then she showed us pictures of her daughter and her three surro babies. I am still amazed at how unselfish a person Lynlee is to give children to people who otherwise couldn't have them.

Edie went off with a girl she knows to look at costumes, and Lynlee and I headed out for the Renaissance Shop. We looked at some stuff, then Lynlee and I had to part for a few minutes, so I went and found 'Wela and visited with her until they had to do a parade, by which time Lynlee was back. While talking with 'Wela, James (her son) came up. He didn't see me until she pointed at me and said, "Say hello to D---." Then he bear hugged me and kissed me. It's a good thing he's a baby, else I'd have to hit on him. How tacky would that be? Hitting on your big sister's kid? ::grin::

After some chocolate-covered strawberries that were a bit disappointing (milk chocolate instead of dark, and yucky milk chocolate to boot), I went back to Creekmores for a b-day present for my mom and then over to the amber vendor. Overall, I didn't see anything that jumped at me until the seahorse earrings. Silver seahorses with cognac amber for bellies. I've had a thing for seahorses lately, and those earrings were too groovy to pass up. I'd just decided to get them when L walked up. She turned the earring rack slightly, saw the seahorses, and said, "You should get those!" ::grin:: Great minds think alike.

By then I had just enough time to say bye to 'Wela while exchanging pleasantries with the queen and hug L before Mom was there to pick me up. I was pooped, but Dad had bought "Sahara," so I watched that until it went off at ten even though I wanted to go to bed at 8:30. It was pretty decent though I generally don't like Matthew McConnaghey (or however you spell his name).

Today I had the house to myself for a while since Mom is working and Dad went to the gun show with his pal Perry. I watched the last hour or so of "ROTK," did some email, and watched a bit of "Beyond Borders" -- Clive Owen is so freaking delicious. When Dad and Perry got back, Dad tossed a bag at me and said, "Here. Don't say I never gave you anything." Inside was a purple, white, and grey camoflauge style T-shirt. ::giggle:: I love it!

Now I need to get to reading for my review article.

I'm feeling much, much better now

Boy, what a week! I've pretty much been sick since the wee hours of Sunday morning with intestinal cramps, nausea, and fatigue (oy, the fatigue!). Some kind of bug, I guess. I barely ate or drank anything Sunday through Tuesday (a cracker and a half one day was my primo day), I managed a little broth and some beans from my dad's homemade beef and beans on Wednesday, and I had some grapes and more broth and beans yesterday. I guess I'm doing better today because I ate half a bowl of Campbell's beef and vegetable and a bit of banana immediately after getting up today, followed by a bit of chocolate a couple of hours later, followed by more grapes shortly after that, and then a York peppermint patty after THAT. My tummy has not protested once (so far), so I'm hoping I'm finally over the ooky.

Before I got sick, I went with my aunt and my second cousin to the McPherson Scottish Festival. Immediately on arriving, my cousin got her passport sheet to get stamped at the clan tents, then we ate, then my aunt and I browsed the vendors. I'm on the hunt for a MacLachlan kilt pin like the one I got my bro the last time I went to the Scottish festival, and surprisingly I didn't have much luck. The tent which had them in the style I wanted (the clan crest with a nice ancient pewter finish) didn't have my clan name, and the tent that DID have my clan name had the crest the way I wanted it, but the finish was ultra-cheesy. ::sigh:: One day, I will find it.

We did find a guy who could print up a clan's crest, coat-of-arms, history, or any combo of the three. I got two copies of the MacLachlan coat-of-arms with history -- I'm going to mat and frame one for my grandma for Christmas, and I haven't decided what to do with the second copy.

The highlight for me was the Celtic Connections tent. The woman who runs it has such lovely energy, and her merchandise was nice, too. As I was drooling over some carved wall plaques, she was telling my aunt that the artist of a calendar she was selling is donating five dollars from each calendar to Katrina relief. My aunt said, "Well, you could donate directly to my niece. She's here from New Orleans." She gave me one of the calendars. The artwork is beautiful. I haven't checked out the companion website, but Kitty (the vendor) said it's pretty inspiring. Celtic Connections is going to be at the GP RenFaire, so if any of y'all are out there, go by and check it out, and tell her the gimp refugee from NO sent you.

Tomorrow, Mom and I are going to the Buhler Frolic. It's the annual Fall festival in the town in which I grew up. I haven't been in YEARS -- probably since I was in school.

A meme

When you see this in a friend's journal, quote Shakespeare!

Much Ado About Nothing, Act V, scene iv:

BENEDICK: They swore that you were almost sick for me.
BEATRICE: They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

Taking Time

Funny how messages like these pop up at the most interesting moments. I'm glad the Higher had inspired me to take a good look at my surroundings when S/He did, because they won't be the same when I return.


This comes from the website DailyOM.

Taking Time
Remembering To Live

Many present-day cultures are busy ones. Wanting it all, we look always forward, striving to live optimally and successfully, improving ourselves, and immersing ourselves in the hustle and bustle of great achievements. In doing so, however, it is easy focus our attention on tomorrow while letting today slip by unsavored. It becomes difficult to stop, to soften our focus, to look around, and to consider the here and now. We forget how important it is to just take pleasure in the simple joys of existence, like clear blue skies, birds singing, sunsets, the laughter of a loved one, or the rich taste of a favorite dish. You may feel you are too busy to revel in the small stuff, but your future will wait for you and there will always be another responsibility on the horizon. Each moment of your life, however, has the potential to bring happiness, satisfaction, and growth.

There is a saying: Life is what happens while you are busy making plans. While not entirely true, there are real benefits to taking the time to experience life's positive aspects. Many of us, if we try, will find we are able to make time for living. If you are truly scheduled down to the minute, shake off some unimportant commitments so you can focus on what is vital. Give up control for a few minutes or an hour, and watch the world go by, take a walk in an unfamiliar place, bask in the sunshine, look at the clouds, or play in the snow. There are other delights that come from doing that which we enjoy, but which may not fit into our grand plans or seem like a waste of time, such as treasured hobbies or practicing recreational skills. These are vital, too.

Remembering to live expresses that you value the whole of your life, rather than just the past or the future. It reminds you why you do what you do and helps you appreciate who you are, instead of only who you will become. The path you will walk is hidden from you, but the path you are walking can be enjoyed from moment to moment, if you take the time to be a part of the goodness around you. Next time you find yourself overwhelmed with goals, healing, and becoming conscious, don't forget to just live.

Early morning musings

Every day, I see something new on the TV about New Orleans. Every day, I have periods where I think this isn't real. Mostly, those times are when I'm in bed with my eyes closed. It's easy to be in denial when your eyes are closed. But every day I open my eyes, and every day I'm faced with the shock that this is real. You'd think that after a week and a half, I couldn't be surprised any more. This is easily the most surreal thing I've ever experienced.

It's funny how far that city has burrowed itself under my skin, even considering how little I've seen of it. I've never been to the Garden District, and who knows how much that area will be changed. I've never been to the historic cemeteries, and who knows how many of them will still be there and intact after this. I've never been to any of the few marshes we actually have, and I know how much they have been decimated by this.

I have been to the Quarter and seen those beautiful buildings, and it hurts to think how many of them may be structurally damaged. I've made friends with one shop owner on Rue Dumaine, the amazing "Root Queen" Anna, and I have no idea where she is or how her Quarter shop and Quarter home have fared. I have friends who live in Slidell, the town on the north shore of the lake that was center-punched by Katrina's eye. Rachel and George had just moved in to their home three weeks before the hurricane, and I have no idea where they are. Did they stay to be with their new home, or did they leave and go to Texas? I know Chad and his family are safe via news from Barney, but Chad's home -- the one he lived in with his grandparents, the one his grandfather built all on his own -- was completely destroyed.

And then I see two Wichita tourists on the news whining about how they were "forgotten" by rescuers, about how disgusting the native survivors were. At least you had a home to go to and money to get there, you self-centered jerks.

And then there were the sanctimonious assholes sitting in front of me on the airplane from Memphis, judging the entire city of NOLA by what they saw on Bourbon Street, talking about how New Orleans "got what it deserved" because it's full of naked women and drug dealers on every corner and piss and filth, that it was "God's judgment" for being a city full of sin and nothing more. First of all, if you're so religious and righteous, what the hell are you doing on Bourbon Street in the first place? Second of all, if you'd've gotten off of Bourbon Street and on to Royal and Chartres and across Esplanade into the Marigny (all within walking distance of Bourbon), you'd've seen the dozens of talented street performers and the many art studios and the amazing array of music and the independent bookstores and the cafes and so many other things. You could've had incredible dinners on St. Peters Avenue or St. Louis Avenue, you could've had beignets and coffee on Decatur Street and then walked along the river, you could've gone to the aquarium or the zoo, you could've bought imported Belgian chocolate on Chartres Avenue and maybe an autographed poster on Royal Street, you could've seen an independent film at the theater in the Shops at Canal Place, you could've ridden the streetcar -- all within a mile to a mile-and-a-half radius. Only on Bourbon do you see women flashing their breasts outside of Mardi Gras, and very rarely in that defined zone do you see drug dealers. Yes, there are bad sections in ANY city, but to judge an entire city by one street or one section is unfair and outright wrong.

The terrible things that are happening in the aftermath of the hurricane aren't necessarily a reflection of how depraved the city is but of how desperate the citizens are. For all its fame and tourism, NOLA is a wretchedly poor city with a corrupt government that doesn't do much of anything to help raise its populace out of the gutter. The current administration talks incessantly about helping third world countries improve themselves, but what about the third world equivalents we have in our own country? All you have to do is watch CNN or Fox News to see that we have the third world right here.

Sorry, I know you have been wanting to hear about my time in Memphis and yada yada yada, but this is what plays through my mind over and over at night when I should be sleeping.

Update for Henrik

Barney and Jackie are fine. They and the kids got out the same day I did and headed for Lafayette. They are staying with Jackie's folks in Grand Couteau. I'll give Barney your number the next time I talk to him, which should be in the next day or so.

By the way, how did you find my blog?

:: Huge Sigh ::

One of my former profs asked me what it is about me that attracts hurricanes. I wish I knew.

I woke up Saturday to Ashley saying Nate's boss had told him to get out of the city ASAP and head up to the base near Memphis. She said I had two options: come with them, or come with them. Needless to say I had to think long and hard weighing those options. We had a not unpleasant drive and after getting turned around in Memphis and going about twenty miles out of our way, we got to the base at about 1 a.m. We slept in REALLY late and then went and got Chinese food. Had a bit of a run-in at the restaurant with the people not wanting to let Reba in. I kept my cool, which is pretty admirable, I think, considering my stress level was at about six at that point. I'd been thinking a lot about what this hurricane was going to do to my life.

OK, in the grand scheme of things, my losses are nothing -- some clothes, a few books, a bed. But it wasn't the material things that I was (am) worried about. All I've been thinking about is my degree. What does this mean for my career? At this point, I think it's fair to say that the Fall semester is a wash -- literally. I feel better now that, as 'Wela was good enough to say at least three times to me on Sunday, this is a temporary setback, that after a little while we'll get back into it. I'm fortunate in that I don't have any experiments going, that I have no samples that require subzero maintenance. Some of my pals aren't so lucky. Sure, I have many journal articles that are probably now soaked, but the Higher graced me with the foresight to catalogue them all, and those catalogues are on the laptop I brought with me.

But on Sunday, with my unused placenta shedding at a crazy pace, I couldn't see that clearly. When we stopped at a Kroger store for munchies, I sat in the van, watching the rain steadily come down and knowing the worst was still yet to come, and I cried. And cried. And cried.

I can honestly say that the only time I've felt worse than that was when my sister died. I felt lost and powerless in the face of that amazing force. Yeah, you get warning and you can get out, but that doesn't make the devastation easier. I have friends I can't get in touch with. I worry about them, and I feel for the ones who've lost so much more than me -- their entire homes, their lives. I remember feeling shocked and awed when Andrew hit Miami in 1992, but that's nothing compared to what I feel now living through it. I'll be happy if I never have to go through anything like this again.

When on Earth . . .

. . . did I become a joiner and a potential leader?

First there was the Society for Conservation Biology. Joining seemed innocuous enough -- $5 membership, $10 shirt, meetings once a month, give an opinion here and there. Next thing I know, I'm chair of a committee.

Then there was the Graduate Student Association. Grad students are entitled to have a liaison at faculty meetings, but no one's done it for over a year. The faculty are doing new faculty interviews at the end of the semester, so it'll be important to be in on the faculty meetings, to represent the grad students' opinions of potential faculty and report all happenings to the rest of the grad students. Hey Dawn, Chad thought you'd be interested in doing it. OK, no biggie. Now a handful of grad students want to formalize the GSA and register with the university and the SGA in order to get financial assistance to get big name seminar speakers. In order to do that, we need to elect officers and write a charter, and that handful of grad students is already nominating me for president.

What the hell???

Vet update

Dr. Mahly came by yesterday evening and tested the TEENSY bit of urine Ashley and I had managed to collect, and Reba DEFINITELY has a UTI. So I need to give her an Augmentin pill twice a day for fourteen days, and I have to make sure she has food on her stomach when she takes it because it makes dogs with normal stomachs feel ooky, so we can all imagine what it would do to Mademoiselle Sensitive Tummy. So last night she got rice and applesauce for supper with an Augmentin/peanut-butter dessert. Her Iams was available to her, but she decided to hold out for more rice and applesauce. This morning it was Iams, rice, and applesauce for breakfast with an Augmentin/acid-reducer/allergy-pill/peanut-butter dessert.

Then I headed to Ferrara supermarket, fought all the old people in the narrow aisles, and bought out all their Gerber turkey and rice dinners (all twelve of them), threw in a turkey and vegetable dinner and a chicken noodle dinner to give me seven days' worth of meals, grabbed a tub of plain yogurt to restart her natural flora and a tub of vanilla yogurt for myself, and came home to write on Naomi's now six-months-overdue birthday story.

I think I'm going to go start A Shadow of the Wind before I have to make Reba's supper and go to bed. That is, if I can get Brighid and Severus to give me a break until tomorrow. ::grin::

Took the taxi to the hospital for my tests today. I had told the dispatcher yesterday I wanted to pay by credit card, and she said OK. The guy dropped Ashley and me in front of the hospital, wrote me out a receipt for the $21.50 charge (I thought it was going to be AT LEAST $30), and then drove away. Didn't scan my card or anything. The cab company has no address for me other than knowing they picked me up at Privateer Place (I met the guy at the front gate), and apparently they incorrectly wrote down my number because the driver said he tried to call me to say he was running a little late but couldn't get through. My phone never rang.

I'll mail them a check on Monday. Why do I have to be so freaking honest? Guess you can always use extra karma points.

So, because the guy was running late, I got to the hospital at 9:05. My first appointment was at 9:00, and I still had to go through registration. Oh, well. Went to do the PFT first and had an awesome RT by the name of Suzette. She did this one test on me that gauges your lung muscle function. I've never done that one before. I need to tell P and Gina about it and tell them to have that done on all their future PFTs. Then it was to off to cardiology for an ultrasound of the ticker.

I'll tell you something. It's a humbling thing to watch your heart working. With all the muscles I'm used to thinking about being so weak, it's amazing to see that I have a muscle that is that strong and works that hard all the time, non-stop. It really makes you think about what you eat and how you live. ::shakes head:: I mean, it looks as though it should give out at any second, the strokes are that intense, but it just keeps going. I wish I could explain the feeling.

So after that, Ashley and I walked to Magazine Street and caught the bus to Canal Street. What to say about Magazine Street? I was expecting it to be wider, like the rest of the major streets here in NOLA -- four driving lanes with the neutral ground in the center. Nope. It was a two-laner made a little narrower by street parking. It's loaded with antique stores (I stopped counting after six in about ten blocks) and little boutiques and tea rooms, most of which are in converted residential homes so there's NO WAY I could get in them. And the sidewalks are TERRIBLE -- some of the worst I've seen. The trees laugh, push up their roots, and say, "This is what I think of your stupid sidewalk!" One of them even had a French accent. ::grin::

Got to the Quarter, ate at Subway, then headed for the Green Pirogue. As I was headed up a curb cut for the GP, I spotted a store catty-corner whose sign boasted imported Belgian chocolates. After buying some triple chocolate pralines at GP (have I mentioned yet that I'm PMSing?), we went into Grenier & Chocolat. That's French for "attic and chocolate" -- they sell antiques and those Belgian yummies I mentioned. I've had three of the eight dark chocolates I bought. The orange and the cantaloupe were tasty, but the hazelnut creme one would've brought me to my knees if I could walk. As it was, I had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk and just moan. I've heard people compare some kinds of chocolate to sex, and I'd bet money this little bit of heaven would make that list. I've never tasted anything so incredible.

Now, I'm just waiting for the vet to come bring some antibiotics and Advantage for Reba, and I'm going to try to do a little writing on Nay's b-day story.

Tests and birthdays and yummies

'Course, the tests aren't academic, either.I head to Touro Hospital tomorrow to have an echocardiogram and a pulmonary function test. The PFT is something I'm supposed to have done MINIMALLY once a year, but since I've lived here for a year tomorrow and I didn't think to have one done before I moved . . . . Well, you know. ::shrug:: The echo is to give my new doc a basis to work off of. I told her some docs like to do the occasional echo on MD patients and my sister had an inconclusive "enlarged" heart when she died. She had listened my ticker and said the rhythm was steady, but we might as well do it. Here's hoping my pump works properly. Afterwards, Ashley and I are headed for the Quarter to wander and buy pralines from Green Pirogue. Poor girl hasn't had any.

Speaking of living in NOLA -- I can't believe it'll be a full 365 days tomorrow. Man, time flies. A year, and I STILL haven't started on my research. I suck.

Was making a meatloaf for supper tonight (and by definition for lunch and supper for the next three days AT LEAST), and Ashley asked me if I was getting excited for my birthday. I shrugged and said, "Sure, but it won't be any big deal. I won't be doing anything." Apparently I was wrong (silly, silly me), because she proceeded to inform me that she was making me supper and then she and her hubby and I were going to "do something," and there also "might be a surprise but I'm not telling you anything about that." I refrained from telling her she makes me supper every night. ::grin::

Oh yeah -- pop quiz. What do you get when you combine tofu, cocoa powder, chocolate soy milk, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and almond extract and blend it all until smooth? Give up? A TRULY YUMMY dessert that tastes almost exactly like pudding but has less fat and LOTS of protein. I know, I was skeptical when Ashley brought it over, but that stuff was MMM MMM GOOD!! That girl's a freaking WHIZ in the kitchen.

Xena comes to NOLA

Went to the post office this morning and saw a catering crew setting up. Ashley asked me if it was some kind of pre-registration thing, and I said, "With catering? No way. It's gotta be something else."

Turns out the "something else" is a CBS movie called Vampire Bats being filmed right here at little ol' UNO, starring none other than Lucy "Xena" Lawless herself. And before anyone asks, no, I haven't seen her. The closest I've been to the production is running over cables and slaloming around ladders to get in to the library for research journals. Though I will admit, I didn't REALLY need the journals TODAY. ::grin:: I was curious, all right? I'm from Kansas, and when they DO film movies in Kansas, they're never where I am. When I left to come home this afternoon just before 4:00, it looked like they were setting up to film right next to my building. Did a quick scan, didn't see anyone famous.

The plot summary, which I've gotten from our departmental secretary Teresa and from what little info I can find online, is that Lawless plays a university bio prof. A student is found sucked dry, and the culprits are bats mutated by the tainted water supply.

::shocked look:: Tainted water in New Orleans? Now THERE'S a stretch of the imagination! ::she said sarcastically::

The hero of the movie is the guy who played the captain in the B5 Legend of the Rangers movie. Brett Butler is also supposed to be in it.

On a funny note, Lisa (a TA in our department) went in to one of the teaching labs this morning to start setting it up for the start of classes on Monday, and she opened the door to find a lot of people already in the room. When they told her they were filming a movie, she replied, "In here? Now? I'm supposed to be getting ready for teaching." You'd think they'd've warned her. Or all of us, for that matter, since the main character's a bio prof and they're using our buildings.

Interesting times. I'll let you know if I manage to spy Xena or Capt. Marsten or Grace Under Fire.

What a day . . . .

Today started with an email from my old friend Suzanne telling me her service dog Mozart died. I just cried and cried. Mo was my first introduction to service dogs (Nay and I were only acquaintances at the time) -- I'd never even heard of them before Suz got him. She had him for twelve years, and he was a great boy once he actually grew up. He was a yellow lab, and I remember his boisterousness quite well. Once, he saw someone across the room who he thought he should meet, so he pulled Suz clear across said room. My fondest memory was a Halloween when Gina, Stacy, and I lived at the dorm. Stacy, Nay, Suz, Suz's brother John, and I went to a dorm dance as the Addams Family, and Mo and DJ even had costumes of Halloween themed boxer shorts turned backwards so their tails could fit through the holes. Rest well, Mo-mo, and play ball with my Sam.

After that, the day wasn't too bad. I had lunch with Barney, and we talked about my research and my courses for the Fall. I don't feel like we accomplished anything as far as the research is concerned, but I have decided on my courses. I'll be taking Stats with Chad and a few other bio grads, and I'll be taking Conservation Genetics. I'm excited about that course, but I've heard it's difficult. The plus is that the prof is a great lady who is VERY approachable. Barney is trying to talk me into taking a GIS/GPS seminar (global information/positioning systems), but I'm not too sure about it. The pro is that I would have three more 6000 level hours taken care of (including my other classes), meaning I'd only need three more hours in the Spring to complete my coursework. The con is that I would be taking nine hours of 6000 level courses THIS semester along with trying to figure out what the HELL I'm doing with my research. And the two classes I'm already taking are going to be tough and time-consuming. And did I mention I'm trying to figure what the HELL I'm doing with my research? Chad's trying to talk me into the seminar, too. AND I'm getting a roommate, so that will interfere with study time at home. ::sigh:: I don't know what to do. I think I'll email the instructor of the GIS/GPS seminar and quiz him.

Then I thought I'd have a nice, relaxing evening at home watching a movie with Ashley and Nate. I got Rory O'Shea Was Here in the mail yesterday from Netflix. Apparently it's also called Inside I'm Dancing (what a stupid title). It's an excellent movie. I highly recommend it.

It hit me hard.

Right between the eyes.

Repeatedly.

With the claw part of the hammer.

I haven't cried that hard from a movie in a long time. And it wasn't even the movie necessarily. It was sad, don't get me wrong, but it brought back a lot of memories -- of friends lost, of battles fought, of dreams, of longing, of broken hearts, of the stupid/silly things I've done, of support from the only people who can REALLY know what you're going through. I really can't explain it any better than that.

Spoiler alert.

There's the part where Rory is in the hospital with pneumonia, the oxygen flowing, and his friend is sitting outside the ICU looking in, and the doctor's saying it doesn't look good.

Wonder who I thought of there?

The empty wheelchair at the end got me good. I was a sobbing mess. You know, the sobbing that leaves your eyes red and burning and your nose stuffy and your insides aching. I was reminded forcibly of a friend who was cremated and had a memorial service at the chapel on WSU's campus. His empty wheelchair sat at the front of the chapel.

God, that hurt.

That whole movie hurt. I will kiss James McAvoy and Stephen Robertson if ever I meet them.

Just when you thought you'd seen it all #3

There was the Vietnamese Catholic church. "Our Lady of La Vang Catholic Church," to be precise. There's a pagoda in the parking lot with white dragons lounging along the rails leading up into the pagoda. The roof is typical Asian architecture -- tile roof with little spinneret-ish things on the corners. But the spinnerets stand beside angels, and in the middle of everything under the roof is the Virgin Mary. It's garrish and intriguing at the same time.

Ashley and I are going back to take a picture with her digital camera.

I think I may have just done it this time

Yup, I jumped in with both feet before I even thought. Two of three parties involved aren't offended, but I can't help but wonder if I should've kept out of it.

The problem is, I've kept out of it for years and watched it keep going downhill.

The problem is, it's not just affecting the two original parties anymore, but I still don't think they see it. There's a third party now, and it's affecting her. I'm a friend to all three, and it's affecting me. There are two other people in the house, and it HAS to be affecting them.

The problem is, the two original parties spend so much time pretending it's not going downhill. What's that saying about denial not just being a river in Egypt?

The problem is, from where I sit, it's already hit bottom.

When will they see how much they're hurting each other? Do they have the strength and courage to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and work their way back up the hill? When will they realize that if they have any hope of making it, they need to do more than vent to their friends or lock their feelings away? Can they realize it's gone way past "we'll ride it out" (it passed that about two years ago) and hurtling into "we need a professional"?

All that hit me in the span of a few seconds, but instead of the quietly sympathetic friend asking those questions, the mean and frustrated bitch said, "This is bullshit. Enough is enough already. Get the help or get out."

Maybe I just should have stayed quiet.

The problem is, I can't. Not and feel like I've done them justice as their friend.

God, I hope I didn't make it worse.

Simple joys

1. Walking to the grocery store with a friend and admiring the varied architecture.

2. Walking home from the grocery store, standing in someone's yard, and feeling the intense energy emanating from their trees and home -- and wanting to cry for how good it makes me feel.

3. A fillet of salmon coated in Old Bay seasoning (or "Bay of Beluga" as P calls it) and cooked to just the right consistency.

4. Pasta covered in Ragu roasted garlic and parmesan sauce.

5. External speakers for the laptop enabling me to blast my music as though I had a stereo.

6. A good piece of smut written by a best friend.

7. Walking Reba in a sprinkling rain.

A day in the life . . .

The Sun is shining, and there's a near constant rumble of thunder from the Southwest.

It's a good day to be alive.

Help for a friend in need

I was checking up on my pal Adam who lives in Winfield via his blog, and he has the following posted:

http://www.adammessinger.com/2005/08/02/call-for-donations

His mom has been having the mentioned health problems for quite some time, and though Adam doesn't mention it in the blog, her situation was quite grim a couple of months back. If any of you know of any organizations or church groups which may be able to give them assistance (either monetary or advice on how to cut costs), could you please let me know or let Adam know directly via the comment posting feature on the blog. Adam is a very proud individual, and the fact that he is asking for his online community for assistance is testimony for how serious the situation has become.

Thank you in advance for any help you may be able to provide!

Illusions

Cool stuff.

http://www.ritsumei.ac.jp/~akitaoka/index-e.html

Third time's a charm

This is the third time today I've set down and tried to do this. It's not like I've had SO many things to do; I just keep getting interrupted.

Last night Erika and I took out my next door neighbor Erick for a little going-away fun. He's been accepted to the clinical psych PhD program at Adler in Chicago, and he leaves tomorrow to stay with family in Birmingham for a while as he looks for an apartment in Chi-town. We ate at the Gumbo Shop which is behind Jackson Square. Erick had eaten there before, but neither Erika nor I had been. That will be one of the places I take people when (if) they come visit me. It's not too expensive (if you don't count the small $7 daquiris, that is) and the food is incredible. By unanimous vote, we decided my crawfish and pasta in tasso cream sauce was the best dish of all three (Erika had shrimp creole which, while good, wasn't nearly as good as the creole I make, and Erick had okra gumbo -- yuck). I really wanted someone to order the alligator piquante, but Erick chickened out after I'd already ordered the crawfish. So, to make y'all hungry: imagine tender crawfish tails swimming happily in a slightly spicy cream sauce with a touch of tasso (a type of bacon) all over perfectly al dente penne pasta. Yeah, I'm ready for another dish.

After that, we headed out for Frenchmen Street, but we (read "I") got way-laid by a street performer who grabbed the hand with which I drive and proceeded to serenade me with an overenthusiastic version of Kenny Rogers' "Three Times a Lady," all the while gesticulating with his free hand in which he was still holding the gum he had been chewing before starting to sing. I am trapped there because the guy is still holding my right hand. So I let him sing and didn't roll my eyes or smack him when he kissed me on the forehead after finishing the song. He wasn't giving me creepy vibes, but I wasn't tipping either.

We finally made it to Frenchmen Street and cruised a couple of blocks to preview the music and decide where to stop. Lack of cover charge and big crowd drew us in to Bossa Nova to listen to the Bad Apples Blues Band. They ain't Jim Byrnes, but they were enjoyable nonetheless. Erick and I were really digging the music, but I could tell that Erika was a little bored. She liked the music, but she was really in a salsa mood, and salsa was pumping out of the Blue Nile bar. So I said let's go to the BN. Normally there's a $7 per person cover to see Freddy Omar con su banda, but Erika frequents the salsa night and knew the doorman, so all three of us got in for $5 flat. I really need to stop having preconceived notions of themed nights because there were proportionally more whites and blacks dancing at the BN than there were Hispanics. Even a particular gimp we all know and love was enticed out on the floor to dance half a song. OK, so I looked more like I was having mechanical problems with my chair, but hey, Freddy and his banda got a kick out of it. At one point, Erika and Erick were dancing (and you'd think a South American guy would know a little about how to salsa, but the Japanese-American girl was more familiar with it ::grin:: -- out goes another preconceived notion), and I was watching everyone and enjoying the music with a smile. Sorry, but you really can't listen to salsa and NOT smile. Anyway, this woman who had danced a couple of songs came up to me and said, "Are you having a great time living vicariously through us?"

Now, it's been a while since anyone has said anything truly stupid and insensitive to me openly in public, but she moved away from me quickly enough that I could give her my witty retort of, "Well, actually, while you were over on your barstool getting drunk off your ass, I was dancing, so p--- off." I could have probably blown off the comment, but she then proceeded to make sure she and her man danced in front of me, and she kept smiling indulgently at me like she was doing me a favor. When Erika came up and asked if I wanted to listen to one more song, I said, "No, I'd rather leave before I'm forced to deck some stupid, drunk b----." Outside, I told her what happened, and she started to go back to the bar, saying, "Oh no, she f---ing didn't!" I headed her off, saying the woman's ignorance wasn't worth it, but Erika mumbled about it all the way to the bus stop.

Speaking of bus stop, here follows the latest in Dawn's bus adventures. First, there was the creepy drunk guy who walked up behind me and just STOOD there. He made my neck muscles clench, OK? After almost a full minute (yes, Erick loses guy points for allowing the guy to stand behind me, leaning on my chair, that long), the guy finally starts asking what corner we're on and which direction is St. Claude and how far is it to Chef (Menteur) Highway. I can barely understand the guy. THEN he starts pushing on my chair and saying, "Help. Help." Erika calmly tells him I'm motorized and don't need any help, thanks anyway. That's when I start saying over and over in my head, "Go away. Head for St. Claude." He finally did.

After that, we almost got left by the bus driver because he thought "we were just hanging out on the corner." Yeah, OK. Whatever. A run stop light and stop sign later, and we were finally back on campus.

Now I'm going to bed.

From Elizabeth

See what your hobbit name is at: http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/.
Mine is Iris Frumblefoot of Bywater.

See what your elf name is at: http://www.chriswetherell.com/elf/.
Mine is Alatariel Minyatur.

Never leave Barney and Chad to entertain themselves on a Sunday

Something told me yesterday as I was walking home from the bus stop after a pleasant afternoon at the aquarium with my next door neighbor that I should stick my head in the office. I arrived today to find the grad student office and adjoining computer room COMPLETELY rearranged. ::shakes head:: Why can't boys leave well enough alone? The plus is that my back is no longer to the door, but the minus is that my back is to all my officemates. Do I REALLY trust those yahoos to sit behind me? I wonder about a couple of them . . . especially the one whose name starts with a "C."

Speaking of boys whose names start with "C," he was all worried that I would be upset about the replaced Reba pad, especially after he'd found out someone had made it for me. In case I didn't mention it before, he tried to wash Reba's bed for me while I was gone and apparently had some difficulty with the cover -- like it fell apart and/or he couldn't get it back on the pad. Then he was worried that the new bed was too small for Reba to lay on. ::shakes head again:: Dork. And no, I didn't say that to HIM. Extra point for me.

Quiz

My pal Lynlee had this on her blog, and I told her I'd put it on mine. I think you're supposed to answer the questions in the comments section.

1. Who are you?

2. Are we friends?

3. When and how did we meet?

4. Do you have a crush on me?

5. Would you kiss me?

6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.

7. Describe me in one word.

8. What was your first impression?

9. Do you still think that way about me now?

10. What reminds you of me?

11. If you could give me anything what would it be?

12. How well do you know me?

13. When's the last time you saw me?

14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?

15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

Here follows the adventures of Dawn and her return to NOLA

After waking on Friday morning from a dream in which I arrived late to the airport and had to run to catch my plane, I headed into town to buy a new battery ($69.99) and earpiece ($19.99) for my cell phone and a new portable CD player ($49.99). Mein Vater had given me $100 the night before just because, and it went a long way to the purchase of these necessities. Yes, a portable CD player is a necessity as it gives me focus during those late night anxiety attacks. Returned home to discover the earpiece wouldn't work with my phone -- contrary to the word of the Radio Shack salesman. Mom went back to town and found an earpiece exactly like mine at the Alltel store, and we threw away the old one. Remember that.

About 2:15 we started loading the van and headed for the airport. My plane didn't start loading until 3:57, so we had plenty of time to get there, check my suitcase, go to the bathroom, and get something to eat. Arrived at the airport, and while Mom parked the van one of my attendants called. I put on my new earpiece and attempted to call her back. It didn't work. WTF??? Then to make things better, we must have entered a time blackhole somewhere. As I was standing in line to check my bag and get my boarding passes (which took fracking forever because of my wheelchair -- yes I know I get on the plane first, yes I know I sit in the bulkhead seat, my batteries are sealed, I need a transfer, blah blah blah), I looked up at the clock and was astonished (actually, mortified) to see it read 3:44. I still had to pee and get through security, but forget eating. Ran to the bathroom, peed, called attendant while peeing, and ran to security. The woman who felt me up (frisked) took her dear sweet time, then we ran for the gate all the way at the end of the terminal -- all to find out the plane was delayed. At first I breathed a sigh of relief and ate some nachos, but as more and more time passed I became worried. I had a little over an hour between flights in Dallas -- was I going to miss the NOLA plane?

Turns out our plane was delayed because of nasty weather in Dallas, so needless to say ALL PLANES were running behind. The new time for my NOLA plane (originally set to leave at 6:47) was 7:17. By the time I got off the Wichita plane and got to the NOLA gate (thank the gods I didn't have to change terminals -- a first for me), the departure time was 8:08.

Then it was 8:28.

Then it was 8:45.

Then it was 9:15.

Then they didn't bother changing it anymore.

We finally started loading at around 10:00 or 10:30. As we taxied toward the runway, the pilot came on to say we had a 45 minute wait for takeoff because of the long queue. Fortunately we only had to wait about 20 or so minutes, and we were FINALLY in the air. After landing, getting transferred, Barney putting my chair back together, transferring again, and riding home, I got home at around 1:15 a.m.

But there were some bright spots to the whole thing:

1. On the Wichita plane, I sat next to a woman whose daughter was in my sister's class in high school. I told her my name, and she said, "Oh, I thought you looked familiar." Her daughter moved to Nashville a year ago to break in to the country music scene and is apparently doing rather well. She has a gig in Boston today, is opening for an act at the Fair in September (mom couldn't remember who), and has several appearances over the next few months to promote her CD. I went to her website last night and listened to a couple of song clips. She has a great voice.

2. There are still really nice people in the world. One in particular is a woman named Jane who sat across from me on the Wichita plane and was also on the NOLA plane. As we all waited to leave Dallas, she shared her pizza with me, got Reba and me water, and helped me get situated in the plane seat after the airline idiots transferred me. There were also two other ladies waiting for the NOLA plane who helped me as well.

3. NOLA now has a wc-accessible taxi!! The shuttle had shut down by the time I got in to town, but the shuttle service manager had arranged for the taxi to take me home. It is a London cab (you can see what it looks like at http://www.taxiadvertising.com/liveried.htm) with a lowered floor and fold out ramp for wc access. The service's number is now in my cell phonebook.

Now it's back to the grind of finding new attendants and thinking about writing a fluctuating asymmetry review. Oh yeah, and figuring out how I'm going to get fish for my research.

Is Katie Holmes past saving?

The more I hear about this, the sicker I feel. I used to have a small amount of respect for Tom Cruise, but I think he and Mel Gibson have joined hands and jumped off into the wide chasm of looney tunes, never to utter a sane word again. Check out the links found at http://www.adammessinger.com/2005/07/15/katie-holmes-w-interview by my pal Adam.

If I ever get this stupid over a man (assuming, of course, I ever GET a man), don't waste time trying to save me. Just shoot me in the head. Even if I survive, I'll be less brain-dead than living with a minder and giggling like an idiot and not being able to think for myself.

Maybe Katie's folks need to hire a PI and have her grabbed so they can de-brainwash her.

Venturing off-campus, pretending to have a life

I talked Erika into going to the Quarter with me today so I could buy Naomi's jasmine oil. I also thought since I would be at Erzulies getting the jasmine, I might as well treat myself to the sandalwood oil as a congrats for surviving my second semester of the Ph.D. program. OK, OK -- the bracelets I bought a few weeks ago were supposed to be a gift to myself, too. Fine, I wanted the sandalwood oil. I've never EVER smelled sandalwood essential oil (all I've ever had access to was fragrance oil), and I wanted the EO. So sue me.

So we hopped the bus to the Quarter and walked around trying to find a place to eat. We finally settled for Chartres House, and I had the seafood sampler appetizer as my lunch. Catfish, shrimp, crawfish, crab claws, and oysters with french fries and hush puppies. Oysters are extremely overrated. They're kinda gross, actually. One of the waiters was flirting with me, and Erika chalked it up to my "hot" black lace-up shirt and my new 'do (which, by the way, looks much better with my natural fluffiness) -- I think he was just flirty in general.

While having lunch, Erika was talking about pralines, so after we ate she took me to the Green Pirogue (=a dugout or canoe). I bought two dozen pralines to bring home for my friends and fam. E and I each also bought a turtle praline (a regular praline with caramel and chocolate -- VERY dangerous stuff!) and E bought this coconut and chocolate piece of heaven we shared as we walked to get her some phone cards to call Mexico. We wandering into an import-export shop after a bustier-type blouse caught my eye. We rifled through some blouses in the back of the shop, and the owner came back and started chatting with us. One blouse caught my eye. We put it on over my shirt -- I was thinking, "No way, this is too much. Too risque. No way." Then the lady held the mirror over, and I actually looked OK in it. E's opinion -- "Oh hell yeah, Dawn! That is sexy."

I still can't believe I bought it. It's one thing for me to be wearing this black lace-up job ("Holy cow, I have boobs!"), but it's another to be wearing this Indian embroidered royal blue number with lacing all the way down. The modesty panel will be in place, you can count on that. The shop owner was even complimenting me, and she was being honest because she actually recommended me the blue one instead of the silvery-blue one I tried on. She said the silvery one was a good color for me, but the darker blue wouldn't accent the curve of my back as much if that was what I preferred. Like I said, I got the blue one, and I appreciated her candor.

But I talked E into the silvery-blue one. ::evil laugh::

After that, we wandered back up Royal Street, stopping to listen to street performers and looking in shop windows as we went. We went in to one shop that offered all kinds of autographed memorabilia from posters to guitars to books. This place had stuff from various presidents (including Abe Lincoln), popular and classic TV shows (including an army helmet signed by the entire "M.A.S.H." cast) and movies, rockers from Elvis and the Beatles to Nirvana and KISS, and authors galore. We saw a signed To Kill a Mockingbird, a season one or two "CSI" poster signed by the entire cast ($695), one of Elvis's guitars ($45K), and a bit of a speech penned by Abe Lincoln ($23K). Naturally, they had several Anne Rice books, including those written under one of her pseudonyms (Exit to Eden was one). A signed Witching Hour was $595, and a signed The Vampire Lestat was $1695. I about passed out.

After that, we finally made it back to Rue Dumaine. I bought a couple of candles at Esoterica, and our last stop was Erzulies. Anna was actually there (the last couple of times I've stopped in have been on her days away from the shop), and she came bounding around the counter with a "Hello, Sunshine!" as E helped me up the step. She gave me a big hug, and she and Nancy asked about school. I really love it when you can become familiar with certain shop keepers (or vendors at RenFaires).

So, that was my big day. I'm a few dollars poorer, but I have some quality stuff and good food in my belly.

Now if I can just get up the guts to wear that new blouse.

Confidence transformation, step two

Got my hair cut today. Was funny at one point because another stylist came over about halfway through and said, "Oh wow, that looks great." It looks pretty groovy right now, but I'm reserving judgment until it gets poofy again. Yvette used a flat iron on it so she could get it all to lay straight to cut (I couldn't get it washed, see, cuz I had no way to get into the chair). Erika loves it. My next door neighbor said it looked good, but it was kind of with that tone that boys use when they know to say anything else will get them slugged. He was more enthusiastic about my out-of-character green shirt.

Yvette assured me repeatedly that when my hair goes back to its usual I-have-really-thick-and-coarse-hair poof that it will still look good. If not, there are always headbands and ponytails until it grows out. I refuse to buy a flat iron and straighten it every freaking day!

It's a lot shorter than I've had it in a very long time. When I pull it over my shoulder, it only goes halfway down my upper arm. My head is so freaking light! Yvette worked with the natural part and cut long bangs to frame my face, and the rest just angles down from that to the length. There are a few layers, too. Like I said, I'm reserving judgment until I wash it again and it gets its full poof on.

And so it begins

We have our first tropical depression due to hit on Friday. Lots of rain and the potential for 70 MPH winds.

I can hardly wait.

I REALLY need to find a van, what with the hurricane season they're predicting. More category 3 and 4 hurricanes than last year, and we had A LOT last year.

::sigh:: Remind me again why it was a good idea to come here.

Don't be jealous of my life

Barney made the comment in a meeting day before yesterday that he wants me to gather up everything known about fluctuating asymmetry. So today I did a computer search in Biological Abstracts and came up with 855 articles, and these only go back as far as 1975 and very likely aren't all of them. I am, at this very moment, coalating all these 855 references and their corresponding abstracts into one Word file.

I'm on record 15.

::sigh:: And then I need to do the same thing for hypoxia and fish -- 965 there.

It's gonna be a loooooong Summer.

Confidence transformation, step one

Took the day off from school to go to Thrift City with Erika. She, Natalie, and I have been trying to get there to buy me some new shirts for a couple of months. Natalie has harped me no end about me buying shirts that are too big, shirts I have bought bigger on purpose to cover my big belly. I purchased nothing bigger than a large. Go me.

Natalie didn't make it with us to TC since she left for home yesterday, but it was still a productive trip. I got ten new shirts and a book for $16.26 (it was half price Thursday, except for the book which was a whopping $2.52 – my most expensive item). My two favorites are a mocha colored light sweater which even *I* will admit looks pretty damned good on me and a little short-sleeved black number with a lace-up front. The most interesting find was the very first one: a short-sleeved, scoop-necked job in a shade of green I NEVER would have bet money I could pull off with my hair. Erika has a great eye.

We’re planning a digital fashion show for Natalie after step two.

Step two comes week after next when E gets back from her Mexico trip: a new hairdo. ::bites nails::

On Time and Darkness

When did it get to be May? Times goes by so quickly sometimes that it makes me dizzy to think about it. Sarah will be eighteen in two months, and it seems like only a year or two ago that I was mad that no one called me at camp to tell me she’d been born. I was sixteen then. Was I ever really sixteen?

I’ve lived in New Orleans for nine months. Nine months. It’s so much time yet not much time at all. Sometimes I think I have nothing to show for my almost 34 years on this planet, and other times I think I’ve done so much.

I watched "What’s Eating Gilbert Grape" tonight, and the scene where Johnny Depp and Juliette Lewis watch the sunset and then walk along a deserted dirt road in the utter dark with fields spreading to either side made me a little nostalgic for home. I miss watching the Sun set over the fields, watching Darkness envelope me slowly and lovingly, watching the Stars peek out of the Darkness one by one until there are hundreds then thousands then millions of them winking at me. Darkness is not known in the city, not even here on the edge where the lake stretches to the horizon. The city’s inhabitants are afraid of Her, and even as a child I never understood why. Without Darkness there are no Stars to play hide-and-seek. I feel Them beyond the edge of the city lights. My eyes search in vain for Them, and I feel Them call to me, but They are hidden from me by the city’s fear. Even the Moon is sometimes difficult to see.

It makes me more than a little sad.

Lazy, hot Saturday

I headed off to the Quarter and the Marigny today. A woman who had inquired about an attendant position with me a few months ago but subsequently couldn't do it invited me to "coffee or lunch or whatever." At the time she answered my ad, her part-time job had gone full-time, but she said she thought I sounded like "a very interesting woman" and wanted to meet me anyway. She emailed me again at the beginning of the week, and I met her at her other part-time job in the French Market at around 11:00.

I had never been in the French Market, and it really isn't that big of a deal. It's overcrowded with tourists, it's hot in the Summer (and it IS Summer now here), and the merchandise isn't anything I haven't seen before -- though admittedly I've never been to any place which boasts three stalls in quick succession devoted strictly to Tabasco products. It was a little difficult to maneuver Reba and myself through most of it, and I was just starting to get cranky when I looked up and saw a sight which never fails to cheer me and make my heart go pitty-pat.

Amber. Loads and loads of amber. ::sigh:: Oh, happy, happy Dawn!

I drooled only a few seconds over earrings and bracelets when one of the ladies came around to help me -- since I could and did easily rest my chin on the tabletop. She produced a tri-colored bracelet set in sterling and draped it across my wrist. Green and cognac/cherry ovals winked against my browning wrist accented by muted butterscotch lovelies. ::sigh:: //Oh, take me home// it whispered seductively. However, just before the lady had come around, a multi-stone bracelet (moonstone, onyx, amethyst, garnet, mother-of-pearl, and a stone that I can't decide whether it's rose quartz or pink moonstone) had caught my eye, so I placed the two bracelets across the same wrist to let them duke it out for who got to go home with me. Problem was -- they played nice with each other. I balked a little at the price on the amber one (being an afficionado, I know it was over-priced, but not much). I warred for a couple of minutes until I decided I deserved them both. I've worked hard the last five months, I have an idea of what I'm going to do for my diss, and I just plain wanted them both. So I bought them. Take THAT, frugal conscience!

I then met Debbie and we took off for lunch in the Marigny. I really like the Marigny. It's quiet, it lacks tourists, it overflows with excellent food and drink and music and pleasant people, and there's lots to see even if some of it IS from the doorway because there's a step at the entrance. Debbie, though QUITE talkative, is a great woman who is originally from San Francisco (actually born there to beatnik parents) but has lived in NO for the last twenty years. She's 55 and done a lot from tutoring/mentoring kids to being a legal secretary to managing a fledgling band. She's discovered Hinduism and so in the last half hour of hanging out we had some interesting religious discussion. She was helpful enough to volunteer to help me over the stoop of the corner bookstore (next time, I said, as I'd been bouncing over bumpy sidewalks for a while and just didn't feel like volunteering for more bouncing) and clean up after Reba who decided to pop a squat in the middle of the sidewalk (::blush:: -- my dog has absolutely NO shame). After the bus arrived to take Reebs and me home (we were BOTH pretty hot after four-and-a-half hours in the Sun), she said we need to get together again soon because we still have LOADS to talk about. I agreed.

Also on our excursions, I found a place where I might consider getting my next haircut and a groovy clothing store called Gargoyles full of leather and lace and twenty-something Goth salesclerks with groovy tattoos (Anita, Jonikka, Jessie, and Sarah are SO getting taken there when they come visit me -- hint, hint). I stopped by Erzulie's only to find that it was owner Anna's day off. Her regular sales clerk (Nancy?) assured me she'd tell her I stopped by to say hello, and she told me Anna would genuinely be sorry she'd missed me. Seems, according to Nancy, Anna was muchly impressed with my knowledge of oils. ::blush:: I get the sense it takes a lot to impress Anna, so I'm honored.

Came home to discover the jerk-wads who live upstairs and like to throw their cig butts over their balcony onto my and my neighbor's stoops had decided to leave three bags and one box of trash on the sidewalk. I called the staff to report it because my next-door neighbor Erick and I refuse to get charged for it. I was told that someone had already called about it (discovered later it was Erick), they knew exactly who it was, the perps had already been written up for a previous offense, and if the trash was still there in the morning they would be written up and charged $30 for removal. Good, as long as you don't think it was Erick and/or me.

Now I'm just reading Harry Potter 5 and trying to stay awake. All in all, a good day.

Grade check

All my grades are finally posted for the semester. Two of them I wasn't worried about. Scientific Communications (the one I was doing the proposal for) I wasn't so sure about. I pulled an A there, as well.

The first person to say "I don't know why you were worried you always get A's" will be phrenologized with my elevator stick and then shown last semester's B in my seminar class. It ain't as easy to get an A in the Ph.D. program as one might think. Especially from Dr. Grady. I've gotten two A's from that man (Sci Comm this semester and the infamous fish class last semester), and I've worked my ass off and deprived myself of much free time and sleep for them.

This semester's GPA = 4.0.
Overall GPA = 3.875.
Getting an A on my proposal from one of the toughest profs ever = priceless.