Saturday Saga

Is it actually Saturday? Today feels like some weird new day of the week that they haven't named yet that someone shoved in somewhere it didn't belong. Not a Saturday, not a Sunday, not a weekday. Weirday.

I did go to the cleaners this morning, which is a Saturday task, and then K and I went to the supermarket, which is a Sunday. Tomorrow afternoon, the eldest nephew is coming to visit for a while, so we shopped today. Except for a few things we couldn't get, so I'll have to look elsewhere for them in the morning.

One of the things I got today was one of those things you put on your back and it heats up but it's not electric so you can walk around with it. Uh, yeah. I've used them before and they always just stick on, but apparently when you get the one labeled "back", it wraps around your body and holds together in the front with velcro. Very nice, except the crick or whatever in my back is at the bottom of my left shoulder blade. Which, wrapped around the front, would ... not work. So the only recourse left to me ... TMI warning here ... was to let the girls go free and strap the thing over them, i.e., where the girls are supposed to be riding if you're a) 18 or b) never gave birth or c) both of the above. So that's how I spent my day. At home (obviously) and not making any sudden movements.

I still felt lousy all morning but perked up, no pun intended, around two, at which point I was able to put the rest of the holiday things (roasting pan, huge mixing bowl, etc.) back in the basement. So the kitchen looks relatively tidy. I've also managed to get 99% of what I need to buy into my Amazon cart, and I ordered gift cards from there for the niece and nephew I only see on holidays. Monday after school, I'll make a quick trip to the Gap and to the outdoors-y store, and then, I hope, the rest is a click away. Oh, except for one gift card I need at the damn mall. But I'm going to see if I can get that online, too.

So there I am. I need to post and call OldFriend, who called earlier in the week but I was too out of it to talk much, so I owe her. See you tomorrow.

WATCHING WILL & GRACE :: ENTRY #1632

Wednesday

First, let me just say that I've been having lots of trouble with leaving Haloscan comments for people recently, so it's not that I'm not reading or thinking or wanting to leave comments for you guys, I just haven't been able to.

Took BooBoo to the vet today. He now weights 4.8 pounds, so he is one little cat. And half of that is fur. Anyway, the vet gave him some new food to eat and an antibiotic, in case his problem is some sort of stomach bug, and took blood to see if he's anemic or if his kidney disease is progressing. Either way, he seems perfectly happy when he's awake -- he sleeps a lot, but that is, after all, a cat's job, and he's 16 years old -- and eats and drinks well, and all that. So there's the medical update on my little old man.

I went to the chiropractor again -- that is a strange experience, isn't it? I'm not one of those people who feels the need to "crack my back" all the time, and it seems very strange and a little frightening each time I hear that crack. But it seems to leave me feeling pretty good, so I'll go with that.

My surprise yesterday, in my very busy day, is the the Other Chai called in the morning, and we're going to get together to plan the Disney trip after I get home next week. In honor of now believing that we're really going, I went to Barnes aned Noble and bought the current Birnbaum DisneyWorld book. It makes me feel like I'm really going, and I haven't been there for six years -- !! -- and I know a lot has changed since then. I don't find the website that easy to navigate, unless you're looking for something specific; the book is better for a general overview. I've put Ingrid Bergmann aside for a few days, but I'll take her with me on the trip.

My sister can't believe that I haven't started packing yet, and neither can I. I always pack well in advance of wherever I'm going; it's just part of my charm. I could pack for DisneyWorld in November now, but for next week? I don't know, maybe I don't get the reality of it yet, or I don't know what to bring. It's a very surreal thing, this trip.

WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1521

Got to Admit

it's gotten better. For one, my back was somewhat -- but not completely -- better when I woke up, a little worse after the shower (it's the bending to dry my feet that always gets me, even though I'm careful), and then I did indeed go to the chiropractor. Very nice guy, although just unbelievably chatty, but I do feel pretty good now. I'm going back Wednesday and probably Friday, but that's because I want to be in good shape for the trip next week. After that I hope to get it down to once a week.

I don't know if I'd mentioned this, but I got very turned off to chiropractors about 25 years ago, when I was seeing a group after I was in a car accident and had whiplash. They were very highly recommended, a father, his son and daughter. While I was in the waiting room one day -- my last day there -- a young mother came in with a baby and said to the receptionist that she was back again for another adjustment for the baby because her fever hadn't gone down since the day before, and the receptionist sent her right in. I was very upset, because any rational person would have said "Give that baby tylenol!" or at least wouldn't have "adjusted" her to cure a fever. Anyway, when I filled out all the papers this morning as a new patient, one of the things they had me sign was something that said I understood that a chiropractor can't deal with any medical issues except adjusting your spine. So he was already ahead on points with me when I saw that.

Well, today finally feels like the first day of summer vacation. I did what I wanted to when I wanted to. I was able to start a bit on the cleaning. I really got my desk and all its papers in order. I did not overeat. I started and finished a nice little project. I think that after I post, I may read.

That was another thing last week, my first summer book turned out to be a dud. Last summer, I read London by Edward Rutherfurd and really liked it, as I had really liked his Sarum, which I read several years ago. But I finally had to give up on Forest. I tried it three different times, and got to maybe 200 pages this time before I decided I just couldn't read it. It's so over-written, and boring. I'm going to start the biography of Ingrid Bergman that the Hubs gave me for something or other. I do like biographies, but pretty much only of the old-timey stars, like Bergmann, or Katherine Hepburn, or Cary Grant. Even if they're badly written, the content usually keeps me going.

We'll be off later to pick up R at the airport. I hope her flight isn't delayed; it's scheduled to arrive around 9.00 as it is. Any later than that and I'll be too tired to drive home.

Oh, the bad video I'm watching is the high school musical from my nephew's junior year, which was Bells Are Ringing. It was an odd choice then, already badly dated, and not that well done. (The teacher in charge was replaced at the end of that year.) It was a female-centric show -- the original stage version was a vehicle for Judy Holliday -- but the nephew had what served as the male lead. It's another one of those old tapes that I'm converting to DVD for him. Thank god it's almost over.

WATCHING A BAD VIDEOTAPE :: ENTRY #1519

Yeah, well

It seems to take me forever to post an entry every day, and even when I do, I don't much feel like it. So that and a few other things are leading me to believe that I'm sliding into a bit of a depression. Not an earth-shaking matter, it's just good to recognize it as early as possible, if I can. I don't know why, really; it won't become serious enough to take medication, not now, anyway.

When I talked to my cousin the other day, she reminded me of the pact that she and my sister and I entered into some years ago to monitor each other for signs of bipolar behavior, again, to catch it early, if we've got it. I told her that I've got no signs whatsoever of manic behavior -- experience with my mother tells me that it's pretty hard to hide that -- and all I had was the usual sort of depression. We've all got that, to one degree or another.

I think it's connected to my feeling that the summer hasn't really started yet, which of course, it has. I haven't made any concrete plans, other than Gettysburg next week, and I think that's connected to my back hurting. So I made one decision today:

Tomorrow I am calling the chiropractor and making an appointment for this week. (His office is closed on Saturday and open on Sunday, so I should be able to call and get someone there just to make an appointment.) I even wrote it down on a post-it, so I'll do it for sure.

As for whatever else is going on, I don't know, and I'm sure it'll pass. After all, I've got the new Harry movie coming up this week, and the new book the week after that.

I will admit that I've got some apprehension about our upcoming trip. For one, I have apprehensions about traveling in general, which I mentioned recently, and for another, it will be very weird to spend three/four days with the Hubs 24/7. We just don't do that, as a rule. I think if he's going to change his personality 180 degrees -- again -- that I should get a warning well in advance. It's very disruptive to me.

It's probably that, you know.

WATCHING HP/CHAMBER OF SECRETS :: ENTRY #1517

I'm Still Here

Didn't write yesterday. No reason, just didn't.

So it's Friday. My back is still bothering me, which seems like too long. I'm actually motivated to start my summer cleaning, but I can't do it yet. Bummer.

K and I went out to lunch today with the Sibs and Wonderful Niece, which was delightful. Other than that, there is just not a whole lot going on. It's a beautiful day today, not too hot and not really humid at all, although there's a thunderstorm watch on for later.

I've been contemplating something along the lines of a political entry, but you know, all the news is just so horrific that I probably wouldn't know where to begin. And any little rant I post here is just a grain of sand on the beach. I'm finding something ironic about going to, of all places, Gettysburg next week. There are those who will say that the Battle of Gettysburg is the single most significant event in the history of the United States. The Civil War was our most important social/political development, and Gettysburg was the turning point in that war. Think about it. It was the occasion of the Battle of Gettysburg that led to these words:

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

The great task still remains before us, more now than even it did then. Yet it is still true that we must resolve that those dead shall not have died in vain, and that our essential purpose -- our mission statement as Americans, as it were -- is to ensure that government of, by and for the people shall not perish from the earth. I would like to believe that those dying on behalf of our government every day are not dying in vain, but I cannot believe that. Australian officials -- and Australia is one of our strongest and most important allies, in general and certainly in Iraq -- have said that it's true that we are there to protect our oil interests. Didn't we know that all along? Did we -- did anyone -- ever believe that we were there because terrorists "hate our freedom", as that monkey in the White House has said repeatedly? They hate Americans, certainly, and they have good reason to, considering what we're doing to them. Hate our "freedom"? Who thinks that abstractly?

So I'm going to Gettysburg, commemorative of a lie of a different kind: it was a war fought "to free the slaves", but in fact, it was a war fought to maintain the union, to keep the United States intact as a country, and to prove that the federal government was stronger than the individual states', and was dominant. Hell, even the truth in that one sound noble.

Okay, so I ranted a bit. More to come, I'm sure, as I haven't even gotten started on Cheney and impeachment and all of that. If I could vote today, I probably would vote for Dennis Kucinich. I think he's a man with the courage of his convictions. The others are too busy trying to be elected for us to find out if they have it or not.


WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1516

Changed My Mind

Feeling a little better, released a little tension, which is always good for the back.

I'll start with yesterday. Or maybe a bit of Saturday night. Or ...

I've had trouble with my back since ... okay, 1974, but it's really been much better for the last few years. I get occasional backaches, like normal backaches, which is what I seemed to have Saturday night, a little cramp here, a little muscle strain there. No big deal, and it was the same Sunday morning, when I went for my pedicure with the Sibs. I came home and sat at my desk chair for a while, as I do, waiting for the toes to be nice and dry, and then when I got up ... I couldn't.

So my back just got worse as the day wore on, going into spasm. I used heat, I took advil, I stretched myself out flat on the floor for awhile. I'm a little better today, not spasming, as such, but uncomfortable.

Needless to say, I did not take a walk today, although I went briefly to the mall with K in the afternoon, and it was hard walking around there. But I felt that walking around anywhere would be better for my back than sitting in a chair all day, and it was. But I'm tired now.

I finally talked to the Colleague, who was away herself last week, and she gave me some very good input on our upcoming trip. I discussed it with the Hubs when he got home, who is being so pleasant and flexible and easy-going about this whole trip that honestly, I have no idea who he is. So now I have recommendations for two hotels, and although I'm going to call tomorrow, I doubt that we can get either one of them. Although this week is the actual anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, so all the big hoopla there is going on now, it's a place that people go when they're on vacation, and most people plan more than two weeks ahead of time. I have a third place as a back-up and I know they have rooms (I checked online), so I guess we'll have a place to go. (My first choice had nothing online and said to call the hotel; the second choice doesn't offer online reservations, so I have to call.)

Am I looking forward to the trip? Hmm. Yes and no. If I'm going anyplace (other than DisneyWorld), I'm glad we're going here; I did want to make this trip and see this stuff, and for a while. Am I looking forward to the disruption of being away from home, and packing, and finding suitable food for the Hubs away from home? Not so much. That part just sounds stressful to me. I really am a homebody. I like the places I go to, the rare times I go, but I'm not so good with change, or disruption.

When K and I were in England, for example, four years ago, I lived a dream: I saw the Globe Theatre. It was amazing to be there in every possible way; it could only have been better if we saw an actual play, but it was winter and not their season. It made me very happy. Yet back in the hotel one night, when K had gone out and met some friends who were studying in London, I got very freaked out about being in a hotel and not being home and how out-of-sync with everything I was, and felt. A little bit of an almost-panic attack. It's as if the only place I can go and feel at ease is DisneyWorld. Really, I belong there. I should live there, right on Main Street.

So tomorrow I try for reservations. R is getting out of work early -- her office is closing early for the holiday on Wednesday, nice of them -- so she'll be here sometime in the afternoon, and then for dinner, and then will sleep over on the couch so that her father can get her to the airport nice and early Wednesday morning.

I made an appointment for a consultation with the cardiologist for next week. It seems that I cannot take a standard stress-test, since I can't walk on an incline for more than a minute or two and that's what the test is, so it was decided that I should meet with him first and he'll decide what alternate test I need, and if in fact I need it. I don't have symptoms, really, just indicators, but if I'm getting blocked arteries now, I'd like to know it now and not find out in ten years in an emergency room.

Okay. Now I'm going to lie down.

WATCHING RAYMOND :: ENTRY #1513

A Quick Note

I'm still here, I'm still alive, but my back is bothering me quite a bit since Sunday morning, and it's uncomfortable to sit here and type my entry. I'll try to catch up tomorrow.

Oh, I got a couple of weird comments, so I've set that so I have to moderate them before they're posted. But I think I'll still get them when you post them, they just won't show up on my page until I go back in and approve them.

See you tomorrow.


WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1512