bunchofgrapes

Went to the hockey game tonight. The Dallas Stars showed up. Unfortunately, the Caps' defense did not. What is it about teams with Stars in their name or on their helmet? I don't mind if the Cowboys own the Redskins but I really wish the Caps had owned the Stars. We just do not play well against Western Conference teams.

So the couple sitting next to me arrived before the start of the second period. The guy was already pretty drunk but as he continually told me, he was "a smart drunk". This from the man who could never remember where he was sitting. We were two rows from the top but every time he came back, he either went about 6 rows down or he ended up in the row behind us. How hard can it be? His girlfriend was very nice and I kind of felt bad for her because she seemed to be a little embarrassed that he was so drunk. He was also wearing a pretty nice suit however the pants were so long, it looked like he bought it and hoped to grow into it. He kept talking to me but honestly, I had the hardest time understanding him because either he had a lisp made worse by alcohol or alcohol gave him a really bad lisp. Not the most manly of men. This was emphasized by his girl hands and his the lispy voice when he tried to cheer loudly. If nothing else, he was amusing. However, at one point I glanced over at him and noticed he was holding his full beer cup up instead of say, putting it in the cup holder or resting his arm on the chair. I had visions of him spilling it on me in his drunken stupor. Happily, he did not spill it on me. He spilled it all over himself so that when he stood up, it looked like he peed himself. His girlfriend decided that this was enough and since he was a "smart drunk", he didn't argue and off they went.

At least this time it ended better than the guy who threw up in the hair of the woman sitting in front of him. Yeah, that was entertaining.

Friday I was down in our building's cafe, in line to pay for my sandwich order when the woman behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I'm going to fix your tag" because the tag from my sweater was sticking up. I thanked her and then as we both went to wait for our orders, we started talking about embarrassing clothing incidents. I told her about the time many years ago when I walked from my car, down a very long sidewalk, through the lobby to the elevators and up to my desk before I realized the back of my dress was caught in my pantyhose and how it would have been nice if the receptionist has pointed that out to me. I also told her that I never wore that stupid dress ever again. She told me about an unfortunate shoulder pad incident where she walked by several people, rode up in the elevator with several people, and no one said anything. This led to a pretty good conversation about how in this area no one probably notices these clothing incidents because everyone is so busy looking at their Blackberry, iPhone or Droid. Either that or they do notice but they don't care. This then led to something she observed that I've definitely noticed around here and that's the lack of eye contact when talking to someone.

I was taught at a very early age that I should always look a person in the eye when I'm talking to them. Whenever I'm talking to someone and they don't look me in the eye, I find that I don't always trust what they're telling me. I also find it very distracting. Now I realize that certain cultures interpret eye contact differently so I do make allowances but the people I'm talking about are Westerners. Specifically, I work with a guy who does this and when he looks off to the right, I find myself following his gaze, trying to figure out what exactly he's looking at. If he's looking up at the ceiling, I'm wondering if he's making up a story and should I believe him.

Anyway, our sandwich orders came up and we each went our separate ways but it was a great conversation to have with someone all because she fixed my tag.

I'm posting this one for rook4 who loves Brass but can't watch the show and can't access to the The Jim Brass Forum.

So, not much Brass in this episode. Actually, I think he was an afterthought. PG is looking great this season (makes it kind of obvious that he was unwell over the last year and a half) so to have him show up in the last 10 minutes was a complete waste of a very cute man and a huge presence on the show.Plus, after two years of bitching about his hair, I'm finally happy with it again.

Someone on another board said that PG wants a lighter workload but the fans still want to see him in an episode so this was a nice compromise. I disagree. "CSI Down" was a nice compromise. This was nothing more than a Brass drive-by appearance. I get that he might want a lighter workload after commuting coast to coast for 11 seasons but I hope it isn't lighter than the last two seasons because then he would be invisible. I really hope they don't piss him away this season and then he leaves without any kind of send off.

Personally, I think what this episode missed was Brass with the CSIs at the side show. Seeing his reaction to some of the freaks would have been priceless.

Best line of the show? Nick calling Jim, Jimbo.

Only two more blogs and I have to admit, I'm really struggling. I've already deleted two attempts. I was hoping to be clever or contemplative and really, I got nothing. Maybe it's because I really wanted to write tonight so I'm feeling a little miffed at having to do this stupid blog. Yes, when things irritate me I call them stupid, whether they really are or not. I've actually enjoyed doing this for the most part and will not give unwrittenkitten the stink eye for originally talking me in to doing this.

So for this next to the last entry (for November), I'll do a little meme that I'm sure exists somewhere but as far as I know, I'm making up.

( Ten things to know about me )

Ever had your cat find a spot in the carpet and then freak out over that spot? Roll around over it, paw at it, jump in a circle around it? Apparently, there is a place on the carpet near me that's got something special going on because two of the three have been rolling around on the spot all day. It's freaky but oh, so cat like.

I was all set to watch the OU-OSU game tonight. The channel guide says it's supposed to be on but the stupid ABC affiliate is showing Notre Dame-USC. I have compensated by watching "Midsomer Murders". As soon as I finish typing this, I'm going to watch "The Vice" and be in love with Ken Stott's Scottish accent.

Spent most of today trying to write. I'm having a tough time with this fic, mostly because I have no idea how it's going to end. If I don't know how it's going to end and have the ending written, I can't finish it. Not only that but I've kind of lost interest in it. So yeah, I need to figure out how it's going to end.

I still need goat cheese. Today my adventures outside the house took me as far as the recycling center. Probably won't make it to Wegman's or Whole Foods until Monday so my goat cheese need will have to wait. Recycling center was a bustling place today. Apparently the Thanksgiving holiday makes people want to recycle. I was there to get rid of one of my potential hoarding issues: boxes. For some reason I have a hard time getting rid of them but today I got a wild hair and tossed a ton of them. Well, recycle tossed. I feel like I actually accomplished something.

I really don't have much to say tonight. This is mostly just a "tick the box" entry because I really want to go watch "The Vice". Did I mention I'm in love with Ken Stott's voice.

Tucker came home yesterday. He's got a chicken butt from where they shaved him and a two inch scar on his belly where they had to insert a catheter into his bladder but he's beyond happy to be home. He's following me around the house and giving me his happy, chirpy meow. And this is before he's had his pain medicine. One thing I had to give enormous thanks for is that the only medicine he has to take is the pain stick. The doctor sent him home with two bottles of liquid Clavamox but Tucker and oral antibiotics (pill or liquid) don't go together. When Tucker had his first surgery, his regular vet suggested a two week antibiotic shot. It's a little more expensive than the liquid or pill but to not have to put your already traumatized pet through the misery of taking oral medication is worth any cost. So on the way home from the vet hospital, I called the regular vet and asked about the shot (vet hospital didn't have it). Vet had it and they were on my way home. Quick stop in, Tucker got the shot, boom that was done and I have to say, I was feeling very pleased that it all worked out so well. Yesterday, it was easy to tell he was in some pain, especially around the time he was due for the next pain stick. But after the shot he slept most of the day and night. Unfortunately, it meant he was restless most of the night. The other good thing for him is that he's got a soft e-collar instead of that awful hard collar. With the soft one, I can fold it down instead of up so it's not in his way so much but he still can't get to his sutures. So, little lion man is doing well and I'm happy he's home and hopefully, on his way to no more problems.

John gets to go home today. I called my mom's cell and John actually answered. He sounds a lot better than he did when I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago. We spoke for just a few seconds before he handed off the phone to my mom and when she got on, she sounded surprisingly upbeat. Apparently, he was scheduled for a biopsy tomorrow but they can't do it because he's on aspirin and plavix. So he gets to go home for about a week. Then they will do a biopsy and once they know what kind of cancer it is, they'll know how to go from there. If it's one kind, they feel confident they can treat it with cancer so as weird as it sounds, we're all hoping it's that kind of cancer. He's on steroids right now and that's reducing the swelling on his brain, which was causing his inability to talk and eat. Also, the doctor took John's youngest son, also an alcoholic, and told him that under no circumstances should he give his father alcohol. Apparently, that has been an issue with John trying to stop. I hope whatever the doctor said to Matt put the fear of God into him too because he's heading down the same path as his dad.

So, today I have a lot to be thankful for. I have some pretty great, supportive friends. Tucker is on the mend, the other two are safe and healthy, and I am loved by all of them. John gets to spend Thanksgiving at home with my mom and seems to be doing better, despite what lies ahead for him. My aunt is healthy and as always, there for my mom and the family. I have a wonderful next door neighbor who brought me a container of her excellent potato salad. We (my dad, stepmother and I) are going to the Inn at Kelly's Ford for Thanksgiving so it's over the river and through the woods and somebody else cooks (this one makes my stepmother happy).

To all of you out there, Happy Thanksgiving! Or Happy Thursday if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving!

Well today went a way I never planned. Tucker had an appointment this morning with the surgeon who did his Perineal Urethrostomy. His regular vet wanted me to take him to the surgeon because of all the issues he continues to have. He has such a narrow urethra that she was concerned he had some scar tissue that was causing more blockage. So we went. And he stayed. I had already kept food and water from him because they were going to have to put him under to insert a catheter but about 15 minutes later the surgeon came to tell me that he had a lot of difficulty getting the catheter in. He confirmed what Dr. W feared. He said the concern is that his urethra is so narrow that any amount of debris in his urine could cause a blockage, something he thinks is already happening and that's why Tuck is straining so much. He said that it's going to progressively get worse however, there is a new procedure they can do. He explained and all I heard was trimming the tip of a bone to give the urethra more room. He says cats who've had this surgery have very good results and given Tuck's age, it's something we should consider sooner rather than later.

I didn't hesitate. Tucker was already there. He was ready for surgery now and I'm home the next four days so I can keep an eye on him. It was a no-brainer. I asked if he could do the surgery today. He could so that's how Tucker spent his day. The surgeon called me around 3:30 to say that Tucker was out of surgery and in recovery. He said the surgery was a little more difficult than he expected but everything went very well and he didn't foresee any complications. I pick him up tomorrow around 1pm.

On the way home from the vet I started to think. When I first saw Tucker he was in a cage with his brother. His brother was very laid back. Tucker was squalling his head off. His brother was called Pauly Walnuts, after the Sopranos character. Tucker's name was Benjamin. I don't know why I picked "Benjamin" but I did. Another couple came in to adopt Pauly Walnuts but they really wanted to keep the brothers together. Thankfully, the women running the rescue really liked me (as a pet owner) so they didn't go back on their agreement with me. What made me wonder today is if Pauly has this same condition? And then I was thinking what if I hadn't adopted Tucker? How would someone else have handled this? The surgeries he's had have not been cheap and I know not everyone has the resources or the inclination to spend this kind of money on surgery for a pet. Would they have put Tucker down? If Pauly had this same condition, is he still alive or did they have to put him down?

So with Thanksgiving rapidly approaching, I'd like to say that I'm thankful for the day I walked into the Pet Store and for whatever reason, picked "Benjamin". And I'm thankful I have the means to give him what is hopefully a better quality of life.

Many, many years ago, a co-worker used to comment on how she needed to go home to clean because the cleaning lady was coming the next day. This was something I could never comprehend. If a woman was coming to clean your house, why do you need to clean it first? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?

Yesterday I got an estimate from Silvia to clean my house once a month. I spend most of my weekend doing yard work or cleaning the house but I feel like the house is winning. Silvia cleans my friend's house and her parents house and they love her so I got her number and actually called. She came out yesterday so I could meet her and she could see the place and give me an estimate. Her estimate was extremely reasonable so she's coming tomorrow morning.

After she left, I immediately knew what my co-worker meant. Looking around the place, I realized that I needed to clean up the clutter so she could actually clean. So I have spent the entire weekend attacking the clutter. Having a cleaning person come is like watching that show, Hoarders. I was tossing stuff right and left, filling up the recycling bin with magazines and junk mail, and getting together a box of stuff to donate.

So yeah, to get your house cleaned, you first have to clean your house.

This is going to be fairly random because I have nothing much to say.

Just finished a pretty grueling week at work. I was talking with a co-worker about it. It's not that we're putting in the hours that we did last year. It's that we're all so worn down from the constant grind over the last couple of months and we're kind of sick of each other. Thanksgiving can't come soon enough.

I have over 60 hours of use it or lose it leave and close to 400 hours of regular leave. If I take leave, I end up making up the hours within the two week pay period. Sucks. I have until December 17th to use the use it or lose it leave so I'm going to try to take 4 days off next week. Try being the operative word here.

I'm thinking the pretend husband will get me an iPad for Christmas. He really needs to buy me a new laptop. Hey, maybe he'll buy me one of those too. I have a fairly big list that also includes a new treadmill.

Speaking of the pretend husband, I've just sold a couple of friends on the idea. One has a pretty steady guy who will lavish her with gifts so for her it's pretend children. But my other friend is definitely getting a pretend husband.

Tucker has been doing pretty good. He's had a couple of hiccups but for the most part, his urinary problems have been under control. Still, he goes to see the doctor who did his surgery on Tuesday. Regular vet wants him to take a look at Tucker's...um...area (not sure what to call it)...to make sure there's no scar tissue blocking the opening. Given his past troubles, I wouldn't be surprised if there is.

Tomorrow is the first weekend since sometime in September that I have absolutely nothing to do--except meet this woman who is coming by to give me a cleaning estimate. But I have nothing scheduled or planned and I'm looking forward to it. Maybe I can finally get some writing done.

And lastly, I hate when Frasier isn't on. It's my late night comfort food.

Seriously, why do the traffic gods hate me? Went to the Caps game tonight. We left a half hour late, which normally would be no big deal. But tonight traffic was backed up on the Beltway and that caused back ups every where else. We got to the Phone Booth ten minutes into the 1st period. Thankfully, there was still no score so we didn't miss anything. About a minute later, we scored. Long story short, Caps won 4-2. After the game we got out of the city fairly easily, drove on to 66 and...dead stop. This was a repeat my Saturday nightmare except that my friend was driving and while we were at a dead stop, the guy behind her rear-ended her. Twice. First he wasn't going to pull over and was surprised to find out that he'd hit her. Then he must have realized she had a passenger/witness because he finally did cop to it. She got his information and we were on our way. In bumper to bumper traffic. I finally got home at midnight. It only took 2 hours. Sheesh. Did I mention traffic out here sucks?