Sick

Got a nasty cold...bleh. Will post a real post when I'm feeling better.

Chocolate!

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I come from a long line of chocoholics. This means there is usually chocolate in some shape or form lying around in at least a couple of spots in my house. Great for cravings, not so great for dieting!

The addiction comes out in my cooking, too. I'm not a pro in the kitchen by any means. Most of what I cook is fairly basic (tasty, but basic). I have two recipes, though, that always get rave reviews from whoever happens to sample them...chocolate mousse and fudge. Rarely do I go to any sort of potluck-style event without one of the two -- mousse when it's warm out (the fudge doesn't set properly when it's too warm), fudge for cooler weather. Even more rarely is there much left at the end of the event.

The fudge is something of a tradition. When I was all of 4 or 5 years old, Dad started making fudge at Christmastime, and I'd "help" him. Pouring the chocolate chips in was hard work! As I got older, and as Dad's health got worse, I took over more of the process. I still make way too much of it every winter. It's just not Christmas around here without fudge to eat and share and give away.

Mom had her own chocolate-based Christmas projects. She hasn't done any for several years, but she used to be very into chocolate molding. She had molds for these cute little gingerbread-style houses that she'd make a bunch of to give as gifts -- milk chocolate for the house itself, with white chocolate snow and icicles. Not quite as tasty as the fudge, but they were very pretty, and very popular in their own right. I'd "help" with those as a kid, too. My favorite part was helping make the icicles, because I'd end up with white chocolate all over my hands that just had to be cleaned up somehow!

My brother is something of an anomaly in our family...he doesn't like chocolate. He doesn't hate it or anything, he just isn't overly fond of it. He does enjoy it in very small amounts (butterfinger bars and the like), but if something is mostly chocolate, he won't usually bother with it. I actually started making peanut butter fudge a few years back so he'd have a special holiday treat as well. His missing chocaholic gene is a serious defect, but we attribute at least part of it to the fact that he's a guy. Most guys just don't understand chocolate like women do. ;)

InvisibleShield, Etc.

No picture tonight...I've got a bit of a headache, so I'm giving myself a pass on that.

Went shopping earlier...whee! Spent more than I should have, but I got what I was looking for and a few other things besides, so I'm happy. There is definitely a reason I go to the mall as rarely as I do. I always seem to find the best stuff when I'm trying not to spend a ton...but oh well.

Have I mentioned I love my iPhone? So nice to be able to just slip my phone into my pocket rather than having to rummage through my purse every time I need to get at it and missing texts because it's buried and I don't feel it buzz at me. Plus it's just a really awesome phone. I got an InvisibleShield screen protector for it, because I'd heard the 3G scratches a bit easier than the original iPhone did, and I really didn't want my pretty shiny screen scratched up. I've used various brands of screen protectors for various gadgets over the years, and I'm really pretty impressed with the InvisibleShield. the solution and squeegee they give you to put the protector on make it way easy to smooth all the bubbles out (there's an eeeensy weensy couple of bubbles near one edge, but those are my fault from touching the screen before the solution had dried because I'm impatient), and I haven't had any problems with the holes for the speaker and button peeling up around the edges like a lot of cheap screen protectors tend to do. it's also beautifully clear...in fact, nobody that I've shown the iPhone too since I put the InvisibleShield on has even noticed it's there. Definitely a worthwhile investment.

Barbies!

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Ok, maybe it's just me and my vivid imagination, but I swear this flower looks like some sort of freaky alien...eyes, nose, jowly mouth...

Aaaaaanyway. I'm sane. I promise.

I went to lunch with a couple of friends today, and the conversation turned to Barbies at one point. Reminiscing and all that. I was a very serious Barbie fan when I was a kid. I got my first Barbie for my 5th birthday, and they piled up after that...birthdays, Christmas, any money I managed to save up from whenever I could earn a few quarters here and there...I wanted Barbies! (Littlest Pet Shop was a big addiction too, but that didn't hit til I was a little older.)

There were very complicated rules for playing Barbie with my friends and/or sister. We had a whole system set up. The prettiest Barbie was always the princess/heroine, the handsomest Ken was always the prince/hero. Ugly Barbies/Kens were villains. I had a Ken whose head popped off easily. He was always the primary villain, since he was easy to execute.

Our Barbies were less than innocent, too. Any parent who thinks their little girl is not picking up some general idea of the facts of life while playing Barbie with her friends is sorely mistaken.

I had a big, ugly Barbie motor home. Classic '70s-era piece of plastic...mustard yellow with orange and dark red accessories. It wasn't one of the shrimpy little ones they've been making since the late 80s, either, this sucker was a good 2 1/2, 3 feet long. It was perfect for hauling all my Barbie stuff up and down the couple of blocks between my house and my best friend's. I had a piece of yarn tied to the front, and I'd chuck all the Barbies/accessories/pets (My Little Pony was a big deal too) in the motorhome and haul it down the sidewalk.

One of my most vivid Barbie-related memories actually ended up with a friend and I getting into some trouble...I was at said friend's house playing, and we decided that the bannister overlooking the foyer would make an excellent cliff for one or two Barbies to fall over. They had to be rescued, of course. We couldn't find anything long enough to use as a suitable rope, so we decided to pull the laces out of nearly every pair of shoes in the house and tie them all together to make our rescue rope. My friend's mother spent a good couple of hours untying laces and relacing shoes. She was not pleased.

Barbies today just aren't the same, though...frankly, right around the time Ken got real hair was when they started being a little too complicated. It kills some of the imagination connected to them when they get too complex. Bah. I'm getting old.

Rainclouds

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I love storms. Call me crazy, but standing out on the front porch when there's a big storm blowing in just makes me feel so...alive. The one in this shot didn't really hit us, though...we only got a little bit of rain. It mostly just blew stuff around, though. I have no idea how those clouds didn't drench us.

Someone once told me that I love storms so much because my life has gone through so many periods of insanity that I'm not really satisfied when things are calm anymore. I'm not sure I totally buy that, but it makes sense in a way.

Geekiness Abounds

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Female geek indicator #176: Jewelry hanging off of one's PC instead of someplace normal like a jewelry box....

I promptly dusted my PC's vents out after I looked at this pic, too, heh...yay for dust bunnies?

Anyway, for those of you keeping track...Aunt #1 got back from Cali last night, and Aunt #2 is being delivered to the airport this afternoon. Aunt #2 leaving is a definite relief. I love her, don't get me wrong, but Mom has been on edge for the last several days because they'd been driving each other nuts. Mom being on edge? Not fun for anyone in the general vicinity.

On a geekier note, my iPhone is too cool! I'm getting pretty good with the keyboard, too...I'm already typing faster than I did on my Sidekick. I did have some experience with the keyboard from my iPod Touch (which my brother is now enjoying), but I hadn't used it a ton on that, so I still have some practicing to do. The autocomplete feature is pretty neat, though I do have to keep an eye on it, as I found out last night while texting...

There are some way cool apps out for the iPhone -- I'm still exploring my options there, but wow! I've got everything from streaming internet radio to games to doodles to Twitter, and most of the apps I've got were freebies too. If anyone has an app or two to reccommend, leave me a comment, pretty please! I still have loads of exploring to do here.

Don't tell anybody, but I'm totally hooked on an Apple product...

iPhone!

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So, I finally got my hands on an iPhone 3G! 16 GB of awesomeness...really, as a gadget junkie, this is pretty much nerdvana right here. This particular shot was taken while standing in line. Which I did for just over 2 hours. With no book. Luckily, my sweetie and a couple of friends were on AIM, where I proceeded to pester them via my now-retired Sidekick.

Prior to today, I had never even set foot in an Apple store. Their computers are most definitely superior to Windows machines in a lot of ways, but paying more for a computer with less software options (and less gaming options!) isn't really my thing...and yes, I know you can run Windows on a Mac now, but if I'm going to run Windows anyway why would I buy a Mac in the first place?

Anyhow...the experience: after a canceled doctor's appointment this morning (yay for my HMO screwing stuff up! Again!), I called the nearest Apple store to check on their iPhone stock...and lo and behold, they had some in! After promises of lunch and gas money, my sister agreed to drive me, so off we went! Upon arrival, we noticed about 30 people lined up outside the Apple store...that couldn't be for the iPhone, could it? It's been a week and a half....

It was for the iPhone.

My poor sister looked not too terribly thrilled at the prospect of standing in that line, so I told her to go wander the mall a bit. She returned half an hour later, to find me about 5 feet from where I had entered the line (with another 20 people or so behind me, good thing I got there when I did). Since I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, she left to go pick up a friend and bring him back to the mall.

The line moved in spurts...nobody would move an inch for 10-15 minutes, then 4 or 5 people would be taken in within minutes of each other. I did some calculations and figured I'd be there for about two hours (I ended up being off by 5 minutes, go me!), so I settled in with my sidekick.

Aside from a book, I should've planned on better shoes, too...my sandals are very comfy for walking around, not so much for long-term standing. By the time I got to the front of the line, my feet were protesting somewhat. I made it, though, and was escorted to the holding area just inside the store where they were parking people for easy access by the Apple folks.

My sister and her friend P had made it back by this point, so they were hanging out waiting with me. P is way cool, but going somewhere with him is somewhat like going somewhere with a 5 year old at times...between a bit of klutziness and a lot of brattiness, he can be amusing and embarrassing at the same time on occasion. Today he was in pretty rare form...during the 20 minutes or so we were actually inside the Apple store, he managed to (a) throw his phone into a wall (didn't break it, but got some stares) by losing his grip on it while waving it around, (b) nearly jab a woman in the chest by turning suddenly as she was walking by us (the woman looked a little freaked out. P was embarrassed and apologetic. her husband cracked up), and (c) knock a sign completely off an easel-type stand. My sister was about ready to claim she didn't know him. I, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing...though laughing too hard can be painful!

Anyhow, I'm still actually discovering all the gadgety goodness that is the iPhone 3G...I'm sure I'll have more to say about it in future posts.

Waspage

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So, we have a wasp's nest in the corner of our porch, literally right next to the front door. We get 'em on the porch every year, but they're usually at the far end. These guys have been parked here for a couple months now. As wasps go, they're fairly laid-back...over a decade of them building nests on our porch, and nobody has gotten stung, so we tend to just leave them be. Having them right by the door this year makes me a little nervous, because occasionally one of them will decide to hang out on the door itself. Our front door sticks a little bit, too, so it's hard to open the door super-carefully. They don't seem to mind, though...they just sit there.

The nest itself is cool in a slightly creepy sort of way, though. See the bubbles in some of the cells? They're most visible near the top of the nest. I don't know what the heck is in those cells, but the bubbles actually surface and pop and reform again...we have freaky mad scientist wasps or something.

Stairbucks

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I shot this at Starbucks this morning. No reason, really, other than that it's a cool looking staircase. I didn't bother trying to get the lighting right for the stuff outside the window, because it was just a red car and the stairs looked cooler with the window blown. I haven't been shooting enough lately...I think maybe I'll start trying for one reasonably decent shot a day to showcase here as an addition to my regular blogging. That might be a little ambitious, but what the heck, I'm doing pretty well with this blog thing (albeit with the occasional reminder from my most loyal reader), so why not?

Metrotyping

I've lived in the DC area nearly my whole life. Since driving into DC is often an evil, horrible, nightmare-inducing experience (even when you're not the one driving), I've logged a decent share of miles on the Metro system. The Metro experience has changed somewhat over the years, of course -- as a kid it was a huge adventure, now it's mostly a way of getting from point A to point B. It's a good opportunity for people-watching though, and after awhile you start noticing how a lot of the riders fit into certain categories....

This is by no means a comprehensive list, of course...just a few of the more common Metro rider types.


The Obvious Tourist (Souvenierus Overloadii) -- The Obvious Tourist is here for the museum and monument experience, and is not particularly subtle about it. Fanny packs, socks with sandals, shirts branded with some sort of DC-related clipart, camera hanging from neck or wrist or shoulder...he's got it all. Usually travels in packs. Most common over the summer, particularly on weekends.

The Subtle Tourist (Imfromhereum Noreallyus) -- Unlike the Obvious Tourist, Subtle Tourist attempts to blend in with the locals. Perhaps she's been here before, perhaps she's afraid of making herself a target, maybe she just doesn't have the full-blown tourist's mindset. For whatever reason, she's less obvious about her tourist status. A backpack instead of a fanny pack, comfortable walking shoes, no publically displayed camera. She still has her indentifying signs, though; spending 15 minutes trying to figure out the farecard machine, peering nervously at the map at every stop, studying the signs intently before choosing an escalator. Same basic migratory patterns as Obvious Tourist, but generally travels in smaller packs.

Basic Commuter (Toandfromii Jobus) -- The Basic Commuter rides the metro twice a day, five days a week. He might have had some slight interest in the ride when he started, but he's been doing it so long that he just doesn't care anymore. He just wants to get where he's going with the least amount of hassle. Generally seen wearing standard office attire. Common accessories include briefcase, newspaper, and/or Blackberry. Usually ignores everyone else on the train. Rarely seen outside of weekday morning and late afternoon/early evening commuting hours.

Student (Teachersentmeum) -- Students often appear somewhat similar to the Subtle Tourist as far as attire/accessories go. The Student, however, falls within a specific age range; generally mid-teens through mid-20s, though the occasional large herd of younger Students may be encountered (always accompanied by slightly frazzled-looking adults). Older students also tend to be more familiar with the workings of the Metro system, since chances are this isn't the first time a teacher has sent them to DC. May be seen at any time during museum operating hours, though slightly more common on weekends. Often travels in small groups.

Young Couple (Loveydovus Twosomeii) -- The Young Couple generally falls into the late teens-early 30s age bracket. Often mostly oblivious to the riders around them, the Young Couple will engage in various levels of PDA, ranging from basic hand-holding to full-blown makeout sessions (the latter often accompanied by the occasional look of disgust from fellow riders). More commonly seen on weekday evenings and weekends.

Odds and Ends

Miscellaneous thoughts and whatnot that aren't enough for a post of their own....

I am not looking forward to this November. Can we just toss Obama and McCain and have a do-over? Seriously, I know way more people that are ambivalent at best about both of them than I do people who are actually excited about either.

Not driving makes planning things extremely complicated sometimes. Luckily I have very awesome friends and family who do what they can to at least make it easier for me. Still annoying sometimes, though.

Some people are really, really, really dense. I went to lunch this afternoon with a couple friends and a few new additions to the usual Thursday lunch group. I got a really cute text message from a certain someone, and was on the recieving end of some friendly teasing about the goofy grin on my face after I read it. 'Twas all fun and amusing til A made a crack about one of my exes, a guy he knows good and well I consider myself lucky to have gotten away from. He totally did not get it when S hauled off and smacked him and I just sat there gaping at him. Totally. Clueless.

It's interesting comparing comments on how people view me. Nobody ever sees the whole picture of who someone is, of course. Getting totally opposite comments from people is interesting, though. Funny how we can put up a front that fools people close to us sometimes without even realizing it. Some people see right through it, though...

For all that I've had to grow up over the years, I still feel like a 5 year old sometimes. Well, no, maybe not 5. I was more sure of myself when I was 5. 12, maybe, still figuring everything out. Some days I'm confident in who I am, my thoughts, my abilities, my looks...other days, not so much. I'm more confident than I was. I'm still not fully there yet. Sometimes someone reminds me how far I have to go.

People surprise you sometimes.

My dog is ridiculously expressive. Every dog is expressive to some extent, but I swear mine is almost human sometimes.

I have too much junk, still. I've been weeding it out slowly over the last few months, pulling things out here and there and admitting that no, I really don't need to keep that. I will beat the pack-rat mentality, one thing at a time.

Things I Love

I'm just in a generally good mood lately, despite some not so great stuff happening. The good is outweighing the bad by a long shot right now. I've decided to take advantage of all this excess happiness and write about some of the things I love...this is by no means a comprehensive list, of course.

Things I love...

Surprises, both given and received. Especially given. I love giving random little presents or doing little extra things for someone just because I know it will make them smile.

People who can look past what doesn't work and see that I'm still me. Who cut me slack on the things I really can't do while letting me (and expecting me to) do the things I can.

Sitting down and enjoying a really awesome meal with friends, family, whoever, and totally ignoring the effect that the food will have on my waistline (I can worry about that when I eat alone!) because for that little bit of time calories aren't important, enjoying ourselves is.

Having the best dog in the whole world, who puts up with me leaving him home even though he hates it and then acts as if it's the best thing that ever happened to him when I walk through the door.

Being part of a family that totally drives each other insane, totally loves each other, fights and teases and supports each other. Sometimes I want nothing more than to get away from them, but really, I have such an awesome family. I drive them nuts just as often as they drive me nuts, and they put up with me even when I really need a good smack upside the head.

Snuggling up with someone, just because it's such a safe, comfy, happy feeling.

Being able to listen to music, even if it will never sound the same to anybody else as it sounds to me. And being able to actually converse with some people fairly normally. Not everyone, heh...but some people.

Spending time with somebody who can laugh with me when I'm being silly, make me laugh when I need it, who knows when to goof around and when to be serious, who can look past my imperfections to the point that I can start to look past them too.

Having friends who will be silly and childish with me just because we can, because a part of us still hasn't grown up, because random stuff like getting giddy over a movie or spazzing out over something as simple as a cute keychain is fun sometimes, dangit.

And of course, chocolate. Couldn't leave that off the list, nope. Pretty self-explanatory.

Like I said, it's not a complete list. Maybe I'll add to it in the future. Maybe not.

Meme, Yay!

I'm doing a meme tonight, because I'm kind of drawing a blank on a good topic. Anywho...I give you the iPod meme!

Instructions:

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question.

Q: What does next year have in store for you?

Unknown -- Lifehouse (heh...appropriate)

Q: What does your love life look like next year?

Everybody Here Wants You -- Jeff Buckley (hahahahahaha...right)

Q: What do you say when life gets hard?

Battle Cry -- Evelyn Glennie (appropriate, kind of)

Q: Song that reminds you of good times?

Three -- Massive Attack (ah, yes, life was good when I was three)

Q: What do you think when you get up in the morning?

Quasimodo -- Lifehouse (well, I feel kind of not so pretty when I first crawl out of bed, so I guess that works)

Q: What song will you dance to at your wedding?

Hunted by a Freak -- Mogwai (boy, that bodes well right there :p)

Q: Song that reminds you of your first kiss?

Nimrod -- MarcAshken (heh...)

Q: Your favourite saying?

Everything -- Kaskade (I do talk a lot...)

Q: Favourite place?

Last Flight Out -- Plus One (meh, flying isn't as exciting as it used to be)

Q: Most Missed Memory?

Echo -- Incubus (*shrug*)

Q: What song describes your best friend?

She's My Pusher -- Crystal Method (haha, that is great)

Q: What song describes your ex?

Run Honey run -- Morcheeba (oh how very appropriate)

Q: Where would you go on a first date?

Corridor -- Vex'd (hmm...does a stairwell count? >.>)

Q: Drug of choice?

Digital Love -- Daft Punk (well I am addicted to geeky stuff like computers and whatnot...)

Q: What song describes yourself?

Camouflage -- Plus One (very true sometimes)

Q: What is the thing you like doing most?

The Silver Lining -- Primer (well I try to be an optimist, so I guess this works)

Q: The song that best describes the president?

Burning -- Olive (his administration is going down in flames, for sure)

Q: Where will you be in 10 years?

Moog Island -- Morcheeba (wherever that is)

Q: Your love life right now?

A Cheery Wave From Stranded Youngsters -- Mogwai (um. yeah.)

Q: What is your state of mind like at the moment?

Sorrow -- Hans Zimmer (just the opposite, actually)

Q: How will you die?

Hair Up High -- MarcAshken (knowing my hair, it's entirely possible)

Whee, that was fun. Real post tomorrow, I promise.

I Posted!

Yay, I didn't forget to post in my blog today. Well, I sort of forgot, but someone wouldn't let me not post...ahem....

I went to the dentist today. It sucked, very much so in fact. No cavities or anything (which is especially good considering it's been...um...way, way too long since my last dentist's appointment), but they stabbed me in the gums with the pointy pick thingy a million times and beat up the roof of my mouth with those dumb x-ray things.

I have no dental insurance either, so with the x-rays and everything it cost me just under $400. Ouchie. The dentist was trying to talk me into Invisalign too (my two front teeth on both the top and the bottom are kinda not straight), but with no insurance that's gonna run me $2900. Not sure I'm that worried about having a perfect smile.

Anywho. I have now posted. Goodnight, interwebz.

Catchin' Up

So, been a busy few days, I've been slacking on my posting, yadda yadda...basic recap of the last few days:

Thursday, went into DC with some friends for a late movie, which was not my brightest scheduling move ever, since I had to be up at the crap of dawn the next day, but it was fun nonetheless. Wall-E is such an adorable movie. You see some weeeeeeird people riding the metro late at night, though. We caught one of the last trains back, and in our car alone there was...not a full-blown transvestite, the guy had no makeup and no real attempt to do anything with his short hair, but he was wearing a lacy floral shirt and black skirt...and a slightly crazy dude who was watching us sign with this big grin on his face the whole time, who proceeded to start talking (not signing, voicing) to one of my friends and cracking up once we got off the train...(solution: pause and pretend we were having an involved conversation while crazy dude walked away, still laughing). Not really the kind of folks you encounter there during the day.

Friday, after a whopping 4 hours of sleep, headed up to Baltimore to see my neurologist. two hour car ride each way, whee. My brother had an MRI and an appointment with the neurologist as well, we schedule stuff the same day when we can to avoid extra driving. One of the MRIs went down, so his MRI got delayed, but that wasn't a huge issue...the neurologist was running half an hour late before my appointment. By the time she finished with me, another 40 minutes was tacked onto that. Yes, I am one of the people that makes doctors get behind schedule. If you see me in a waiting room, I hope you brought a good book. It's not my fault, either. I'm a little more complicated than most patients.

Anyhow, still no definite answer on the whole "am I having surgery soon or not?" question...I was supposed to meet with the surgeon as well, but he was called into emergency surgery. Something about reattatching an arm. I couldn't really complain too much there. Turns out my HMO neglected to put about half the stuff from my last set of MRIs on the CDs anyway (including some of the stuff the surgeon would've needed to look at), so I have to yell at someone over there and make them send the full set of scans in.

The new iPhone 3G came out Friday. I want one. I didn't get to go stand in line for one. Darned doctor's appointments. Hoping I can get my hands on one sometime this week, though.

Saturday, as I mentioned before, I had a really great date with a really great guy...I won't gush too much, because he reads this blog, but suffice it to say that he is a real sweetheart, and I had more fun than I've had in a very long time. :)

And finally on the catchup list, today was a friend's birthday, so we had a semi-surprise dinner for him. He knew something was being planned, just not what. We invited several of his friends to join us for dinner at Outback. Not everybody could make it, but we ended up with 9 people, which was a pretty decent group. Three of the nine (myself included) were completely deaf, and two were hard-of-hearing, so it meant extra work for our waitress, but she was great about it. Earned her a good tip. I also finally got to try sushi (I didn't even know outback had sushi), since one of the guys ordered some as an appetizer and asked if anyone wanted to try some. It wasn't bad...not really what I was expecting, but not bad.

We had a good time...way too much food, way too many conversations going on at once (you try following multiple people signing about multiple topics all at the same time), and way too much silliness. Quite an enjoyable birthday celebration.

Phew...ok, all caught up. Regular blogging resumes tomorrow.

Cop-Out!

Yawn...been a busy few days, but I said I would post tonight, so posting I am. Went on a really great date today with a really great guy, who managed to snap me out of my dorky awkwardness. Much fun was had once I stopped being dorky and awkward. I'll play catchup tomorrow and fill in what's been going on over the last couple days.

Goodnight, Interwebz

The Accident - Part 3

If you haven't yet, backtrack and read Part 1 and Part 2, or this won't make much sense.

Anyway.

After my brother got back with my clothes, I started sending him to Mom's room to try and find out what was happening, and she kept sending him back. All we knew was that she was on the phone with a doctor from the other hospital.

Finally, a nurse brought Mom to my room in a wheelchair (her knee was banged up enough that she'd be restricted from walking on it for a few days). We could tell from the look on her face that the news wasn't good.

A little background: Dad's health had been declining steadily for the last year and a half or so, after complications, including a stroke, from his last two surgeries. He had told us some time before that he was done with surgeries, period. He had had so many that he literally had lost count, and he was finished with them.

Mom told us that she had spoken to the ER doctor who had worked on Dad, as well as a surgeon. They had both told her that Dad needed extensive surgery to have any hope of surviving, but that even then his chances were poor at best. Mom asked us what we thought Dad would want. There was no arguing. We knew.

We must've gone through nearly a full box of tissues between us before we calmed down enough to get our things together and leave. We were driven to the other hospital, Mom spending most of the drive calling friends and relatives to let them know what was going on while my siblings and I sat in the backseat in relative silence.

We were met at the second hospital by our pastor and a few others from church, who had been taking turns sitting with dad just in case he somehow regained consciousness. They led us to the neurological ICU, and my family went into Dad's room while everyone else stayed behind in the waiting room.

A family friend who is a professional sign language interpreter showed up shortly after, to interpret for me and make sure I didn't miss any of what was going on. The four of us sat there and waited and watched, interrupted occasionally by a nurse coming in to check on Dad's vital signs. We were all talking, even managing a smile now and then...telling stories about Dad...things that he had said and done that became part of family lore and legend, almost all of them funny in one way or another.

I was sent outside with a borrowed cell phone after an hour or two to try and reach my grandmother, who we had been unable to get ahold of. I got through this time. I don't remember the words I used, but it doesn't really matter. I told her her son was dying. There aren't any words that can make that message easier.

I returned to Dad's room and sat next to his bed, holding one of his hands in both of mine. He had big hands, and mine are small...I could barely cover it. He was cold. I kept rubbing that hand, trying to warm him up, almost convincing myself that if I could just warm his hand up that it would help, that he'd be ok, even though I knew he wouldn't.

Around 8 pm Mom decided we were going to go to the hospital cafeteria. None of us had much of an appetite, but we hadn't eaten in well over 10 hours. My brother has been significantly underweight for years (not for lack of eating, he just has an overly fast metabolism), and Mom was concerned about him going for so long without food. She knew he wouldn't go without us, so we let the nurses know where we were headed, asked to be notified if anything changed, and went to find some food.

While we were eating, Mom told us that if nothing changed soon, she was going to have someone take the three of us home while she stayed with Dad. None of us really wanted to, but the stress of the situation was causing my brother's breathing problems to flare up, and he had been wheezing for several hours despite his inhaler. She didn't want him going home alone, so she was planning to send us all.

We didn't end up getting sent home, though. When we were nearly done eating, one of the nurses came into the cafeteria and told us we needed to come back to Dad's room. His heart rate was dropping. We trashed the rest of the food and hurried back.

A couple of the women from our church who were still in the waiting room came in to sit with us. I was a little bit annoyed. I didn't want them there...I have never been comfortable expressing grief of any sort in front of people not in my immediate family, and those barriers automatically went up with them present. I knew they meant well, though, so I kept my mouth shut.

We watched the monitors as Dad's heart rate slowly dipped lower and lower. Finally, it stopped altogether. He was gone.

Mom asked one of the nurses to remove his breathing tube, and we all stepped out while she did so. The change in just those two or three minutes was shocking. He was already pale and cold to the touch when we walked back in to say goodbye.

My Dad had fought a disease that had progressively destroyed his body since he was in his teens. We had always thought his health problems would be what finally beat him. They didn't, though. He won. He never knew what hit him, either. He had been granted a merciful death, not a slow, lingering one.

As we left the hospital together, I remembered a conversation I'd had with him a scant couple of weeks previously. He had told me he really didn't think he'd be around much longer.

He had known. Not the details, perhaps, but he had known. Somehow, that was a small comfort amid the hurt.

The Accident - Part 2

After the helicopter left with Dad, the ambulance crew strapped Mom and I to backboards and loaded us into the ambulance. Neither of us had any obvious major injuries, but we were both pretty banged up, Mom's left shoulder and left knee were throbbing, and I already had a very vividly purple bruise spread across my abdomen that the EMTs were a little nervous about. Our assistant pastor took my dog, who protested vehemently at being separated from me.

Because of my abdominal bruising, the EMTs cut me out of my jeans after I was in the ambulance. Yep, cut 'em off. I tried to convince them to just slide them down, but nope, policy is policy. *sigh*

Good thing neither of us was critical, because the ambulance wouldn't start. Another one was sent out, and we were driven to the nearest hospital. Thanks to the delay, my brother and sister had made it there ahead of us, along with the youth pastor and his wife. Mom and I were placed in separate rooms, so my sister came with me and my brother went with Mom. A nurse came in to check my vitals, and then I was left, still strapped to the backboard, to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

If you've never had the pleasure of being strapped to a backboard, let me fill you in...the whole thing is hard plastic. No padding whatsoever. To add to the awesomeness, there are holes in the backboard in different locations, to facilitate strapping different sized people to the board and whatnot. The edges of these holes are rounded somewhat, but they're still edges. Hard, plastic edges. One said holes happened to be right smack against the back of my head.

After roughly 20 minutes of lying strapped to that torture device, I started squirming a bit, trying to get more comfortable. No dice. I wasn't allowed off the backboard til a doctor checked me out, so I was pretty well stuck.

The youth pastor and his wife were acting as messengers between Mom's room and mine, so I knew that Dad had made it to the other hospital, but he was still being worked on and we didn't have much in the way of details yet.

An ER doc finally showed up to look me over, and decided he wanted to check and make sure I wasn't bleeding internally, since the massive bruise across my abdomen had popped up so quickly. Off to the x-ray I went, still strapped to the backboard...and then the fun part. My urine had to be checked for blood, but I still wasn't allowed to get off the backboard.

Being female, I am not really equipped to use a bedpan lying down. Luckily, the EMTs from the original ambulance had finally made it back to the hospital, and one of them was nice enough to give me a hand. Even with help, it was not a pleasant experience.

After the doc had looked my test results over (another 20 minutes or so on the backboard), I was finally allowed to get up. I wasn't really feeling the effects of the scrapes and bruises yet, but being without clothing from the waist down, I wasn't going anywhere. My brother and the youth pastor were sent to grab some clothes for me, while we waited for Mom to be given a clean bill of health and for more information about Dad.


The conclusion will be posted tomorrow.

The Accident - Part 1

June 13, 2004. It was a sunny, blue-skied Sunday morning. My parents, my hearing dog and I left for church together. My siblings had left some time earlier, as the youth group was handling the service this particular Sunday and they were needed for setup and whatnot.

Dad was in a wheelchair, so we had a specially-equipped minivan. Mom was driving, I was riding shotgun, and Dad was parked in his wheelchair in the back. The drive to church would normally take around 15 minutes, but Mom always drove slightly under the speed limit when Dad was in the van, so we allowed ourselves some extra time. It was a fairly uneventful drive most of the way, the roads were rarely busy on Sunday mornings.

Close to church, there was a rather poorly-designed intersection. There was nearly always s bit of debris from one accident or another littering the road there, because the traffic lights were set up in such a way that, approaching from the direction of the nearby highway offramp, the light for the leftmost of the three straight lanes looked like it was over the left turn lane.

As we were coming up on this intersection, I saw a white and brown minivan preparing to turn left coming from the opposite direction. They weren't moving incredibly fast, and at first it looked like they were going to stop...but they didn't. They pulled out directly in front of us. There was no way to stop.

I remember my dog putting his paws up on my leg just as I first saw the minivan. Mom says I screamed, but I don't remember screaming. All I remember is thinking "we are going to hit them".

From the information gleaned from witnesses, our minivan t-boned the other, then both bounced off each other a couple more times as we slid across 3 lanes of traffic. It's a minor miracle that nobody else hit either minivan in the process, and that neither minivan rolled.

I don't remember any of the actual crash, even four years later. I remember right after, when our minivan was sitting next to the guard rail on the right shoulder of the road. I saw Mom moving, and turned to look back at Dad. He was still in his wheelchair, but slumped forward against the two front seats. His eyes were closed. There was blood on his lower lip. He was having a seizure. I freaked out. Mom was freaking out too, but not quite as much as I was. She was still levelheaded enough to notice that there was smoke coming from under the hood of our car.

Mom told me to get out of the car, so I did so. I had forgotten to put my dog's leash on, though, and when I opened my door he took off running. Luckily, his service dog training overrode his panic, and he didn't run far. I got his leash on him pretty quickly. Meanwhile the smoke from under the hood was thickening somewhat, and Mom had decided that risking hurting Dad more by moving him was a better choise than leaving him in a vehicle that was threatening to catch fire, so a couple of bystanders were helping her get him out.

Mom had given me her phone, to try to call someone at church and let them know what was going on, but it had gotten banged around and wasn't working. Mine wasn't working either. A woman who had stopped offered to let me use hers, but of course everyone whose numbers I could remember had their phones turned off for church. As it turned out, though, one of my sister's friends had driven by within minutes of the accident and recognized our minivan, so word was already spreading.

Our assistant pastor and a couple of the other men from our church showed up right around the same time as the ambulance. After checking Dad out, they called a helicopter in for him, as the nearest hospitals didn't have the facilities for injuries as extensive as his. I didn't know how bad he was hurt at the time, though...I was in a mild state of shock, and a few people were keeping me on the far side of the minivan from my parents, just trying to keep me talking to them.

One of the EMTs came over to me and started asking me questions, trying to assess just what kind of shape I was in...basic stuff, what day it was, my name, all that good stuff. I was calm enough to handle that, so she went back to my parents until the helicopter arrived and took off with Dad.


I will continue this tomorrow.

One...Two...Three!

When I was a kid, I hated green beans. Hated them with a passion. I was not fond of veggies in general, typical kid behavior and all that, but green beans were my personal source of revulsion.

Being parents, Mom and Dad didn't let my hatred of green beans stop them from serving those little green strings of nastiness. After much fighting about the issue, we came to a somewhat unwilling (on my part) agreement. The number of green beans I had to eat matched my age. Birthdays were somewhat tainted by this...one more green bean? The horror!

On green bean nights, Mom would count out the appropriate number and place them on my plate, where I would stare at them in horror. How on earth was I going to gag down that many?

Dad would come to my aid, offering to "help" me by taking bites of his green beans at the same time as me. He'd load up his fork, I'd spear one tiny bean, and "one...two...three!" we'd take our bites together. His, of course, were not followed by rapid chewing and a frantic gulp of his drink the way mine were.

I eventually outgrew my hatred for green beans, though they're still not my first choice of veggie...but when I do eat them I can't help but smile a little bit, the countdown still playing in the back of my head. "One...two..three!"

July 4th

It's the 4th of July. Picnics, fireworks, friends, fun...but we're here to celebrate our freedom because of the sacrifices of others. Don't forget that.

To every member of the military in Iraq, Afghanistan, or wherever else their deployments may take them: thank you for what you do for this country. Thank you for being willing to sacrifice of yourself to ensure the safety and freedoms of the rest of us.

To all military members still at home: thank you too. Thank you for the work that you do, whether it's directly supporting the troops out in the field, waiting your turn for deployment, or just handling the day-to-day military routine.

To the military families, supporting a parent or sibling or spouse or child who has devoted themselves to America: thank you. Thank you for being strong for them, for letting them serve their country even if you don't agree, even if it means not seeing them for months or years at a time, even though it's scary. Thank you for being their support.

To those wounded or killed in action: Thank you. Thank you for your courage, your strength, your dedication. Not everyone will remember your sacrifice, and not everyone will respect it. Some of us will, though. It's not enough, it's not what you deserve, but thank you.

To the veterans, who have served and moved on: thank you as well. Thank you for committing part of your life to your country, whether years or decades. Thank you for doing your part to protect us. Not everyone will appreciate what you have done. Not everyone will respect you. You were defending their right to disagree with you, to hate what you did, and that means a lot to some of us.

A Love Story

F lost his hearing at age 19. He was attending Penn State at the time, but back in the late 70s there wasn't much in the way of disability support at most colleges. Rather than attempt to continue at Penn State, he transferred to Rochester Institute of Technology, and their National Technological Institute for the Deaf.

Early on in his time at NTID, he met P, who was working her way through the interpreter training program. They struck up a friendship, continuing to keep in contact after P completed the program and returned home to Florida, where she shared an apartment with her sister, D.

As P had deaf friends dropping by fairly regularly following her interpreter training, D picked up a small amount of sign language "in self defense", enough to allow her to communicate on a very basic level with all the deaf folks dropping by the apartment. F happened to be one of these, during a trip to Florida over spring break.

Being from a more northern climate, F hadn't even considered the possibility of getting sunburned so early in the year, and had managed to turn himself a nice bright red. D thought F was nice enough, but somewhat boring. She gave him no more attention than she paid to any of P's other friends, aside from teasing him a bit about the sunburn he had picked up.

Some time later, D finally decided to go to NTID for her own shot at the interpreter training course, thanks to the things P had taught her. P wrote to F, who was in his junior year at NTID, and asked him to introduce D to a few people, knowing that F would be nice to her little sister.

Shortly after D's arrival at NTID, F's girlfriend had to back out of a double date, and told F to take someone else. F, remembering P's request, got in touch with D and asked her to come along. D willingly went along, and after a thoroughly enjoyable evening decided that maybe F wasn't so boring after all.

F found himself more than a little interested as well, subsequently breaking up with his girlfriend to begin dating D. Thanksgiving was a short two weeks later, and he invited D to accompany him home to Pennsylvania. En route, D mentioned she was nervous about meeting F's family, and hoped they would like her. F's response? "They better like the woman I plan to marry!"

D looked at F for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Aren't you supposed to get down on one knee or something?"

F did in fact go down on one knee not long after. The two were married a year later, a few months before F's graduation.

Twenty-two years, three children, and a roller coaster of life events later, F died from injuries received in a car accident. He and D had remained deeply in love through those decades, and had never bothered to hide it. They had been made for each other, and everyone who saw them together recognized that fact.

And that, folks, is the story of how my parents met.

Hearing Loss Can Be Good

So, another babysitting story, because I can.

After I had been babysitting for the B family for a couple months, I started picking up one-night babysitting jobs here and there as well. One day a couple from church asked me to babysit for them the following Friday. They had two daughters, W (age 6) and L (age 2). I figured if I could handle 3 kids, 2 should be a piece of cake, right?

The realization that most of the high school girls at our church had done some babysitting for this family, and yet they were asking ME, did not really strike me at the moment.

So Friday comes, I am picked up by Mrs. C, and we go over the plans and rules for the evening on the way to their townhouse. Basic enough, I'll be feeding the kids dinner and taking care of baths and bedtime, no biggie. I get dropped off, Mr. and Mrs. C split, and I'm left to entertain the kids for a bit before dinner. W decides we're going to play Barbie for awhile, so I oblige. Half an hour or so of Barbie and it's time for dinner, so I get the kids fed, and then W decides she wants to go a couple townhouses down to play with one of her friends.

I inform W that her parents didn't give permission for her to go to her friend's house, but that if she wanted to invite her friend over instead she could. W doesn't want her friend to come over, she wants to go over herself. After fighting with me about it for a few minutes ("my mommy would let me go!" etc), she runs up to her room, slams and locks the door, and starts screaming at the top of her lungs. Seriously, screaming. I can only assume that such tantrums must have been a regular thing, because I was expecting someone to call the cops, but nobody did.

L, being only 2 years old, is understandably upset by her sister's shrieking, so after a few unsuccessful minutes of trying to get W to chill I decide to let her scream it out. I grab L and head down to the basement, pop a Winnie-the-Pooh tape in the VCR and let L get distracted by her favorite cartoon while I sit there listening to the screams still audible from two floors above us.

A good hour into the shriekfest, I notice that W's screams are beginning to lose some volume, so as soon as L's Pooh cartoon wraps up (the last thing I needed was another wailing kid, I was NOT pulling her away from Pooh), we head upstairs and I park outside of W's door and start talking to her. She finally quiets down, and the rest of the night goes by fairly uneventfully.

Mr. and Mrs. C arrive home a couple hours after the girls are in bed, and I mention W's tantrum to them. They didn't seem all that surprised.

The other girls being unavailable finally made sense. I always had an excuse ready when they asked me to babysit after that.

Prepare to be Boarded!

So, two of my aunts are coming to visit in July. Their visits will be overlapping. One of them is staying a full month.

Help!

Ok, so maybe it won't be that bad. as my relatives go, the two who are coming to visit aren't the most insane by a long shot. The one who is staying all month (P) used to live in the area, too, so she'll be spending a lot of that time visiting friends and whatnot. The other (T) will be a little more...interesting to have around.

A little background: my mom has 8 siblings. Yep, 8. I'm not even sure how many cousins I have on that side. Anyhow, when most of said cousins were little, a few of my aunts jokingly started competing for the title of "favorite aunt" -- slipping a kid a piece of candy and asking "who's your favorite aunt?", stuff like that. Cute when we were little. The joke has gotten somewhat stale over the last 20 years, but a few of them keep it up.

T is one of the ones who keeps the joke going. In fact, she's more gung-ho about it than all the rest of 'em. Playing along for a day or two isn't so bad. It's mildly amusing at first, even. Playing along for ten days? Yeeeeah.

Not that they can't be cool. Heck, P is indirectly responsible for me being here, since she introduced my parents (remind me to tell that story sometime). They can both be pretty fun. I just prefer my relatives in smaller doses, that's all. Long weekends and stuff like that. If T wants to go into DC or something a couple of times it'll be easier to handle, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.