Sunday, October 31, 2004

Things I Have Been in Halloweens Past

A native American girl
Princess Leia
A fairy princess
A cat
A witch
A can-can girl
A marshmallow
A birthday present
A bunny
Morticia Adamms
Ophelia--after she drowned
A French maid
A 1920's gangster
A blue sequined nun
A bumble bee
Mary Catherine Gallagher (Super Star!)
Little Red Riding Hood

And this year...... A-29-year-old-who-has-no-plans-because-everyone-is-working-so-I-will-sit-at-home-alone-and-feel-sorry-for-myself-because-I-sure-as-Hell-am-not-opening-the-door-in-my-neighborhood-where-if-the-kids-don't-rob-me-they-will-be-all-grabby-and-that-would-piss-me-off-and-it's-my-birthday-so-I-don't-have-to-give-out-candy-if-I-don't-feel-like-it-so-there.

Pretty original one this year, huh? Sigh.

Saturday, October 30, 2004

The Lost Art of "Holding It"

Sometimes at my job, I have to "hold it" for hours, until someone relieves me (so I can relieve myself--HA!) It has gotten to the point, that I find myself accidentally "holding it" at home, at leisure, when visiting friends. It's really kind of sad. I remember a time when peeing was a right, not a privilege. Do you think it would be inappropriate if I began wearing Depends to work? Just to make my officers feel guilty and uncomfortable--when they come into the dispatch room to get their paperwork, I could stop mid-sentence, get a kind of glazed look in my eyes, while staring off into the distance, then say, "Ahhhhhh, I feel much better now. I'm sorry. What was I saying?" Hmm..Maybe not.

And now, some "cop jokes"

Q: How many police officers does it take to push a suspect down a flight of stairs?
A: None. He fell.

LAPD OFFICER: "We arrested this man beating the living daylights out of some poor slob for no reason at all! What should we charge him with?"
DESK SERGEANT: "Impersonating an Officer."

What did the peanut say when it entered the police station? I've been a-salted!

Q: How many cops does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Just one, but he is never around when you need him.

What do you call a clairvoyant midget who escaped from prison?A small medium at large.

A policeman stops a lady and asks for her license. He says "Lady, it says here that you should be wearing glasses."The woman answered "Well, I have contacts."The policeman replied "I don't care who you know! You're getting a ticket!"

A state trooper pulls over a car for speeding and the female driver says "I guess you want to sell me some tickets to the Trooper's Ball?" The trooper responded, "Troopers don't have balls, ma'am." After he realized what he said, he simply walked back to his car and drove away.

A cop got out of his car and the kid, that was stopped for speeding, rolled down his window."I've been waiting for you all day," the cop said.The guy replied, "Yeah, well I got here as fast as I could." When the cop finally stopped laughing, he sent the kid on his way without a ticket.

A policeman spots a woman driving and knitting at the same time. Driving up beside her, he shouts out the window... "Pull over!""No," she shouts back, "It's a pair of socks!"

All right, I'll stop the torture. BTW. While I was writing this, I choked on a Milky Way. Who am I supposed to call when I need help? If I called 911--I would have just got myself! Makes you think doesn't it? A final joke and 'Night!

Friday, October 29, 2004

Would Someone Please Remove Marilyn Monroe From Atop the Bar!!!

I went to a fun Halloween party last night. I had 2 kamikazes. I however did not feel the need to heft my drunk ass onto the bar and do a "pole dance" sans pole... So after pounding back a few, "Marilyn" stumbles up onto the bar when "Pour Some Sugar on Me" begins playing. As if that wasn't bad enough, she stayed up there the entire song--and it's a really long song. Nothing against this version of Marilyn Monroe but she was at least a 36 GG (if anything that is an under-exaggeration) and she was severely exceeding the weight limit on the top part of her white halter dress. It was a low ceiling and Chris and I were praying she would knock herself out, on it and put everyone out of their misery. You know it's bad when you do a sexy dance and people are trying to talk you down like you're a suicidal person on a bridge. "It's OK. Come on down. We are here to help. Don't look down! You're going to be fine, but for the love of God, come down before you hurt yourself!" Last I saw her, she was puking and crying behind the barn that the party was held in. Oooh a fun drunk! So let me share with you some other highlights from last nights festivities. Chris and I took half a role of film on the party host's dog. Her little black Pitt bull was dressed as a honey bee! There was this big rectangular block of ice (about 2 feet by 4 feet) that someone took a blow torch to, and cut a zig zag line into it. It was tilted at a 45 degree, then someone would go to the top and poor jagermeister down it, to the person waiting with their mouth open at the bottom of it. Kind of like a really elaborate, hard liquor "beer bong." Chris' (police) partner "V", repeatedly picked up various people and swung them around on his shoulders (he's a big guy 6'4"-220). The more intoxicated he got, the more precarious the swinging became. I kept saying, this will only end in tears. Then he got slap-happy, swatting fellow revilers on the bum and man-handling my husbands pectoral region. V then got sloppy drunk and smacked an innocent male bystander in the "that which shall not be named" region, an event which did in fact end in tears. Not long after this, the host started shuting off lights and closing doors, the universal symbol for "the party is over now get the @#$% out of here" at about 4 am. Guess where the party relocated to? Yup, Chris and my hotel room. Finally at about 5:30 AM we convinced all, to move down the hall to someone else's room, (in a hotel room, shutting out the lights as a hint--is just blatantly rude). But not before one of the female party goers proceeded to lock herself in our bathroom, crying and refusing to come out. Joy! My highlight of the evening was that the hotel room had a whirlpool tub and I had a wonderfully relaxing bubble bath. Aaaaahhhhh!!! Calgon took me away.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

I Just Called to Ask--What's the Number for 911?

My friend "B" a fellow dispatcher, wrote a post on her Blog about some of the funnier 911 calls she had received. And it inspired me to "jot" down a few of my own. The following calls are real calls I have taken.

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: I'm at McDonalds and they charged me for water!!!!
Me: Sir, this is not an emergency.
Caller: Yes it it! It's water! Send a police officer to tell them they
can't do that!

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: Send someone quick, there is a raccoon in my backyard!
Me: Are you aware you've dialed the police emergency line?
Caller: This is an emergency!!!!!
Me: OK, tell me why.
Caller: Because it's day time!
Me: And?
Caller: raccoon's only come at night, please hurry!

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: I just bought cocaine from this one guy and when I tried it,
it turns out it's baby powder. I want this guy arrested.
Me: So you are admitting to me, on a recorded line that you attempted to buy drugs?
Caller: Yeah.
Me: Sir, think about this, do you really want the police officer to know what you were trying to do?
Caller: Oh, yeah....hee hee hee...nevermind (click)

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: My toilet is making weird gurgling noises.
Me: Ma'am, what is the emergency?
Caller: You should hear this--(holds phone up to toilet which is indeed making sounds.) What should I do?
Me: Please call a plumber.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: You know that little girl who is missing?
Me: Yes, do you have information on her whereabouts?
Caller: I think I saw her playing little orphan Annie in a play I saw tonight.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: I didn't dial 911.
Me: Yes you did, do you have an emergency?
Caller: No I didn't call.
Me: Sir, we don't make random house checks, are you ok?
Caller: (Sulking) Yeah. (Under his breath)...but I didn't call 911.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Yeah, um I ate a lollipop, it wasn't wrapped and it was covered in fuzz and now I don't feel too good.
Me: Let me transfer you to medics.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Hi, I'd like to ask about my phone bill.
Me: You need to hang up and dial 411, this is 911 for emergencies.
Caller: Oooohh. Ok....Well can you help me when my bill anyway?

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: I left the iron on at my house, can you please send a police officer out to shut it off?
Me: No.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: My chihuahua is missing out of the garage, all that is left is his sweater!
Me: Please call back on the business line.
(But what I wanted to say) Me: Sir, your chihuahua ran away from home, because you make him wear stupid outfits and he is sick of the other dogs making fun of him.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Yeah, I paid this escort to come over and, you know, but she took all of my money. Also, she was supposed to look like a little school girl but she didn't.
Me: I'll send an officer over and you can explain it. Don't forget to tell him about why she
was there, in the first place, Ok?
Caller: Oh, Ok.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller:I don't feel safe, can I come where you are?
Me: Do you need me to send you an Officer?
Caller: No but if I could just lay down on the floor, near where you are, like with a sleeping bag or something,I'd feel a lot better, Ok?
Me: I'm sorry, it doesn't work like that.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: There is a deer in my yard.
Me: What is the emergency? Is the deer injured?
Caller: No, he looks very peaceful, I just don't want him here.

Me: 911 emergency..
Caller: Some one's been in my house while I was gone!
Me: So there was a burglar in your house?
Caller: No, someone just shaved and left whiskers all in the sink.
Me: Oh...

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Send someone quick, there is a police officer driving in front of me and I think he's drunk
Me: Why do you think that?
Caller: He is swerving from one lane to the next and then back again, he's definitely drunk.
Me: Ma'am that's called a traffic break, he is trying to stop traffic.
Caller: Oh.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Come quick, its road rage!
Me: (after getting all important info) what did the person confronting you look like?
Caller: Female, white, like 4 feet tall.
Me: So my officer knows which person is you, give me a brief description of yourself.
Caller: I am male, 6'5 250.
Me:........Ok, then, we're on the way.
Caller: Ok, but hurry she's really mad.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Your police radios are beaming lasers right into my brain and I'd like you to cut it out!
Me: Hmmm...Ok let me send you an officer.
Caller: No thanks just tell them to stop it so I can get some sleep. Good night.
Me: Good night...

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Someone stole my baptismal!
Me: Is that something that can be stolen?
Caller: Yes! My inner child wants it back!

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: (Elderly female) Hello dear, I fell down, I'm not hurt but I need you to send me an officer to help me up.
Me: Ok, I'm sending you help.
Caller: Go ahead and send me two big handsome fellas!
Me: I'll see what I can do...

Did I mention, I love my job?

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Things My Dogs Learn Part Deux

But first, THE COUNTDOWN. Only 7 more days until I begin my last year as a twenty-something. 10 days 'til election day, (I already wrote that post, I am just saving it in "storage":I have a special treat for y'all), 17 days until my laproscopy, 5 days til a fun Halloween costume party, 8 days until AF... wait a second... 7 days till, B-day.....8 days till AF. Wow this could be the best birthday ever--miracle pregnancy--or I could be curled up in a ball, praying for unconsciousness, I know which one has my vote! I finally got my Little Red Riding Hood costume in the mail and it is completely different than the picture. Only, this time that is a good thing because it is a lot cuter. I was writing down stuff in my day planner and I found a note I had forgotten I wrote. On Oct. 31st I wrote, "You're 29, are you pregnant yet?" I wrote that back when I first got the planner, back when I was still blissfully ignorant. Well, the October Me, scribbled it out and gave the December Me the finger. Speaking of me deserving the finger, I said something really hurtful to Chris today. I didn't mean it to come out so harsh, but it did and I really hurt his feelings. I said sorry, but I wish I could take it back. I can be a total dumbass, sometimes. Maybe it would smooth things over if I got him a concubine. Especially if we got a concubine who cooked and cleaned.

And now for my second installment of what my dogs need to learn:

1. I will not roll my humans wine coolers out the back door when they aren't looking. Besides I still lack the thumbs required to open the darn thing.
2. After 8 weeks of agility training, I will not decide that the last day, when my human's friends come to watch me, is the time to go running off all around the field. This was extremely embarrassing for my human.
3. I will not slam my beer bowl around the kitchen when it is empty causing my humans to make jokes about me being a mean drunk (One beer for 4 dogs makes for shiny coats because of the hops/barley).
4. All 4 of us do not have to go outside at exactly the same time as my human. Besides we all tend to all get stuck in the doorway.
5. I will not eat the entire couch, including the cushions and boards ever again. Even though we only did it to show Mom how much we missed her, when she came back from visiting her parents, she was not flattered.
6. At the dog beach, I will not walk up to some random girl who's sunbathing, and shake water and sand off, then sit on her bikini clad back.
7. I will not eat the puffy white faux fur off my moms new vintage leather coat, making the living room look like I have slain a sheep.
7 1/2. After destroying said jacket's faux fur, I will not look up at my mom with a giant white Santa beard so that she laughs too hard to scold me properly.
8. I will not perform autopsies my soft toys, just to remove the evil squeaky parts.
9. I will not do the "dog sled" (drag my behind) across the carpet.
10. I will not try to lick as many dirty dishes in the dishwasher as I can, before my head gets closed in it.
11. I will not follow my human from room to room just to keep her in eyesight, especially when she is trying to get ready for work; back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom. (Xs 4 )
12. I will not attempt to give my human a big sloppy kiss after licking my no-no for 10 minutes
13. I will stop eating my dad's food before he even gets a chance to taste it. (Gabby)
14. I will not, when I hear the sound of fireworks outside, panic and try to claw my way through my human. My mom screaming from pain never calms me down.
15. I will not lie down on the floor with my back legs spread open, especially not in front of company. This is not ladylike.
16. It is not necessary to always do a "random walk by licking" to anyone laying on the couch/floor/ground.
17. Although canines need a lot of exercise, it does not count as exercise when you eat your dad's weight bench!
18. I will not dig through the dirty clothes hamper and strew the laundry about the backyard.
19. I do not have to see what's inside the refrigerator every time it's opened. My head does not belong in there. Ever.
20. I will not begin slurping loudly in the middle of the night, on God knows what, causing my humans to whisper to eachother, "did you give the dog an ice cream cone?"
21. No matter how *ripe* my human's armpits are I will not dive into them and them come out snorting in disgust.
22. I will not wait until it is dead quiet and my humans are dozing to let out an enormous fart.
23.I don't have to be present every time the toilet is flushed, just so I can watch the water go round and round. (My Pitt puppy DEMANDS to watch every time.)
24. I will not attempt to dry my human's legs with my tongue every time she emerges from the shower.
25. I will not go and lick, sniff, or disturb my human while she is sitting on the toilet.
26. I will not steal things from the bathroom trash and try to sneak off with them. If caught, I will 'fess up instead of trying to suck the object into the back of my mouth.
27 I will not use my nose to peek around the shower curtain while my human is washing her hair, causing a slight cardiac arrest.
28I will not walk across the linoleum floor, walk over to the only rug and barf.
29I will not "paint" my impression of a Jackson Pollock painting in diarrhea across the entire kitchen floor.
30.I will not paint said "portrait" under the heater vent, thus causing the smell to get sucked into and dispersed throughout the entire house.
31. I will not bury my kibble all over the house. Especially since I never go back to collect it anyway. Also, I will not eat my kibbles a few at a time by dumping them from my dish and eating them delicately from the floor, since I usually get distracted, run off and leave a small pile.
32. I will not snore so loudly my humans can't sleep//I shake the bed//or three of us snore in tandem like the 3 stooges.
33. I will scootch my bottom along the grass to rid myself of hangers-on, not the carpet or down the front of my humans leg.

and finally the most important rule ever:

35. I will remember that the sound of crinkling cellophane or of a can opener, does not occur any where in the wild; we do not have to run expectantly into the kitchen, en masse, everytime we hear these sounds!

Friday, October 22, 2004

Losing Myself

Here is an extended answer to the question, how did I lose and get back my entire memory.

My senior year in high school I caught Mono, not even the fun way, and within a week and a half I had lost my entire memory. At the worst point, I lost the ability to read, then speak, I didn't recognize my mom, or even myself in the mirror and ended up functioning at the mental capacity of an infant. Before it was finally diagnosed properly, I was mis-diagnosed and almost committed to a mental institution. Some things I will never remember, some of the things I do remember are horrifying, and some are funny. The experience made me strong and the effects touch my life even now, 10 years later.

Let me back up a little. First I got Mononucleosis, then Strep, which turned into vomiting and high fevers. Soon after I got extremely dehydrated and went to the doctor. I remember the doctor shining a light in my eyes, I was already becoming confused and disoriented, I kept trying to "go towards the light" like I thought I was "supposed to" and kept bumping my forehead on the doctor's penlight. The doctor hydrated me with IVs and sent me home. A few days went by and I was acting stranger and stranger. My mom found me looking at a newspaper, and on a hunch she said, "Becky, can you read that?" I looked at her, then at the paper and I couldn't read it. I could make out letters and a few of the smaller words, but they wouldn't form into sentences. My mom then, asked me to count to 10 and I couldn't remember past 3. I began regressing fast after that. Later, my mom found me sitting on the floor with a picture frame, just staring. I asked whose picture was it. This really scared my mom because, it was a picture of me--taken only months before. Still later, my mom came into my room to check on me, and I was sitting there just staring off into space. She called my name...nothing. She shouted my name, no response, then she got within an inch of my face and screamed, "Becky, you better f---ing answer me." My mom, NEVER cusses. My brother came running in the room, and told my mom to stop, because someday I'd remember this. Not to worry, Mom, I don't. My mom put me in the car and drove me to the hospital. Next thing I remember, I was in the ER and my mom and dad were standing at the foot of my bed. A doctor asked me what year I was born, I couldn't remember so I just borrowed what the guy in the next bed over said, "1932." (Actually, 1975). He then asked me what was wrong, I stared pleadingly at my dad, who I am very close to, thinking, Dad, help! All I would say was, "I can't tell you." That is how I answered every question. The doctor came to believe, I was hiding some deep psychological problem but what I meant was "I have lost the ability to form sentences and can't tell you." The doctor then ran all kinds of tests, including my first spinal tap. Here is a little something I learned from spinal taps: if you have to have one DON'T SIT UP! You are supposed to stay lying down for hours, I was allowed to get up shortly after with hardly any spinal fluid in my brain. That really, really hurts. After the tap, the doctor determined, that there was nothing medically wrong with me and gave my parents directions to a nearby mental institution. My parents, feeling confused and upset drove me to the institution, (which looked more like a country club), but I had lost the ability to speak and just sat there, literally clinging to my parents. The first psychiatrist I saw, took one look at me and said, this is medical not psychological, get her back to the hospital and demand for her to be admitted. Right about here is when I stopped drinking water, because in my mixed up state, I truly believed that the water people were trying to give me was from the toilet, though I could not articulate this. Back into the emergency room, I remember I was so dehydrated they couldn't find any veins, they kept poking at me, I was struggling, I remember screaming and seeing my blood all over the floor. Needless to say they admitted me. My parents were so relieved, they thought, now she will finally get the help she needs and get better. They went home to sleep, thinking I would have improved by morning. I got much worse. The next day, my mom came in, and the nurse said, "Look who's here!"I had no idea who she was. I had regressed so far--to about the capacity of a nine month old, I was in diapers with no vestiges of my personality left. So much for improving. All I remember from that night is hallucinating all kinds of scary things. I saw the girl who used to bully me in junior high sitting next to my bed playing paddle ball. The days passed by, test after test was done, they stuck needles in my scalp, needles in my arm, my spine. Then my priest came and gave me the annointing of the sick. Slowly after, I started to improve. For a while my mom and I communicated in Sign Language, then I could talk, then I could read again. I remember as I was starting to get better my mom said to me, "Becky, the doctors want to know if maybe you've become sexually active and you are afraid to tell us. That maybe something else is going on." With complete sincerity, I whispered to my mom, "Mom, if my boyfriend and I had sex, I wasn't there." Even under the circumstances my mom thought that was funny. When my dad would visit at night I would tell him, "Dad, lets get out of here, no one is looking!" and try to escape. I kept trying to pull the tubes out of my arm, and make a break for it. He had to stop me from running down the hall, trailing the IV with my bottom hanging out! Another time Miss California came and visited the patients and I was laying on the bed coloring with my clothes on backwards. She must have thought I was mentally deranged!
Days later still the doctors released me. I was doing OK, fever gone, not hallucinating, most of my memory back. Problem was, I would still get confused and, my personality was still out of whack, with no medical explanation why. I went home and began the long road to recovery. I thought I was going home because I was all better, but they just didn't know what else to do with me. My parents made the decision they would care for me at home, even if I stayed, altered. Slowly but surely I just got better. Weeks later the doctor, finally found Epstein-Barre in my spinal fluid which caused the Meningitis--which causes the lining of the brain to swell. That is what caused the hallucinating, memory lost, etc.

It was hard going back to school. I still wasn't "all the way back" but I demanded to be allowed to go. I would ge so overwhelmed and confused, even though outwardly I looked pretty normal. On the drives home, my mom says I would just sit and stare out the window with tears rolling down my face, but I was determined to go. I will always be grateful to my dear friend Cristina. She would act as a human barricade, "Everyone back off, she needs her space." and shoo everyone away when they would swamp me with questions. I was all better by graduation, but by then I felt really far removed, like I'd already moved on.

The scariest thing that happened, through the entire ordeal, is I found a piece of paper in my room. It was in my handwriting but I don't remember writing it. It said, "I know I am not myself and I am afraid I'm not coming back." Still gives me chills. The after effects? I will never remember some things, to this day I have a chemical imbalance, this probably caused or triggered and my faith in God and in myself is stronger than it ever would have been. Honestly, wouldn't trade the experience for the world.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Multi-Pet Families are Better

This post is dedicated both to Jen P. and my former cat Hobbes.

A letter from your cat:

Dear Owner,
I love you, but sometimes you just don't "get me." I get lonely all by myself, and unless you fianlly decide to learn my language, I would like someone else to talk to. I am tired of playing games by myself, would you get me a friend to play with? Human contact is great, but sometimes I feel the need to hang out with my animal peers. Sometimes I am destructive, but that is only because I get bored. You try to commiserate, but only another cat can truly understand and the joy of a catnip high. When I try to discuss politics with you at dinner time, you think I am crying for food! If I had a friend, I wouldn't always get in trouble for things; I could blame my crimes on my new buddy. Remember last Christmas when I ate the tree tinsel and it was hanging half out of my bum or the time I got a plastic bag stuck on my tail and thought someone was chasing me? Well, it sure would have been nice to have someone to confide in, about those things, they were pretty embarrassing. A feline companion would appreciate my offerings of love, ie., dead bugs, lizards and mice and not squeal in fear or disgust. When I want to play "Jungle Kitty" my new friend will play along, not giggle when I am trying to hide and I leave my head and tail still sticking out. You know how I crouch down real low, creep forward slowly, then wiggle my butt before pouncing and attacking the Feather Monster? That's not funny, that is an ancient kitty technique. It takes skill! Remember when I ate that rubber band and it only came part out? Remember how you gently tried to pull it out but instead it stretched then snapped back and scared the crap out of me? I sure wished I had had someone to talk to about that. Your version of helping: "Wait come back, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that!" Was hard to believe, since you were snorting and crying from laughing so hard. In closing, I promise to be on my best behavior if you bring me home a friend--otherwise I cannot guarantee the safety of your prized plants...

The Cat

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Whose Idea was That?

I often think the fact that early pregnancy symptoms and PMS symptoms are almost identical; is a really stupid idea. No offense intended to God, but couldn't He have planned this a little better. Instead of twinges, sore boobies, nausea and irritability, why not something really different? How about, hey my butt is tingling, maybe I'm pregnant? What if your tongue turned blue or if you got a case of hiccups for an hour. I dunno, just some random thoughts I've had. Technically I am in the 2ww phase, but since my Saliva OPK kit is nothing more than a glorified green glowing flashlight, I could be wrong. Besides, we aren't trying this month anyway.

Back in the day, my friend D and I toured the world of pre-pregnancy together. (I didn't yet know I was just a tourist.) Our husbands went to the police academy together, then got stationed at neighboring offices, then they moved in next door and even named their dog Kiley after our dog Riley. We started trying at the exact same time. We would go on long walks and talk about having our babies at the same time. We spent HOURS in Barnes and Nobles, pulling every single book about pregnancy onto the floor and sat amongst the piles reading the "symptoms" sections.

D: Hey it says your sense of smell is stronger, do you have that?
B: I don't know maybe. It says frequent urination, do you have that?
D: I don't know, maybe. Do you have sore boobies?
B: (Poke, poke, poke, pinch, prod,grab, bounce) OMG I do!
D: Maybe...
B: Yeah, maybe....

On and on we'd go, talking and hoping and dreaming. I truly hoped she would get pg first then me right after, because even though we started at the same time, she and her husband got to live under the same roof during the police academy and Chris and I were at opposite ends of CA, so that just seemed "fair" to me. One day in early December, D and her husband T came over. D actually stood behind her husband and said, "I'm pregnant" with out even pausing I screamed and jumped up and practically knocked T down so I could get to her and hug her. I asked her why she had been standing behind T, "I thought you'd be mad." she said. (???) I just assumed I'd follow shortly after. So now as we approach another December and her little boy is now 2 months old, I pause and reflect on that moment. I think that is the moment things between us changed, I just didn't know it yet. How could she think I wouldn't be thrilled for her? I never said anything like, I better get pregnant before you. All through her pregnancy I showered the kid with gifts and when she shared her symptoms I continued to share mine. She had mile stones, but so did I. When she was getting her first U/S I found out my progesterone was almost non existent. When she found out it was a boy, Chris has just found out that his "boys" were perfect. While I asked her a million excited questions, she just seemed uncomfortable asking me any. Sometimes I think my IF makes my pg/mom friends feel awkward. Oh well, I can only be who I am and part of who I am is a person struggling to make a kid. My journey may not amount to a hill of beans; but this is my hill and these are my beans.

And now I will close with 10 things you may not know about me:

1. I collect Pez dispensers from all over the world. I have over 250 different ones
2. Chris and I got matching tattoos instead of an engagement ring
(A Celtic knot symbolizing "an eternal bond between two people" )
3. I once lost my entire memory including the ability to read, write and speak
4. I love to watch movies. To me dinner and a movie is the perfect date
5. My favorite movies are Super Troopers, the Fifth Element and any John Wayne movie
6. I have never seen the Atlantic ocean
7. I love to read even more than watch movies. I can read an entire novel in a day. My favorite authors are Dean Koontz, Stephen King, James Patterson and Ann Rule
8. I once competed against UCLA for acting, and I won best Actress in a comedy for my college
9. I have three boxes of baby clothes and a closet full of toys and books. I collect any baby clothes that have police cars on them because they are very hard to find. (Everyone loves firemen but cops? Not so much.)
10. Sometimes I think about getting a friend for Riley--a fifth dog! Mom? Did you totally just pass out? Somebody get the smelling salts!

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Things My Dogs Need to Learn

The following lessons are specific to my 4 strange dogs: Xena, Gabby, Bailey and Riley.

1. I will not lay down on the trail half way through the hike and refuse to move, I weigh 75 pounds and my humans can not carry me.
2. After surgery, I will not get my Shakespearean collar stuck in every doorway and just stand there until my human gets me out. I am capable of backing up alone.
. I am part Lab, I will not be an embarrassment to my breed by swimming around in circles, panicked, until someone rescues me.
4. I do not need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm lying under the coffee table, and walk off with it.
. I will not chase deer. They are too fast; I am too fat. And if by some miracle I ever caught one, it would kick the snot out of me.
6. I will not "play the cello" for extended periods of time . (Cleaning their no-no with back leg straight up in the air....)
7. When my humans throw a party, I will not knock over a table, drink all the spilled beer, and then run into the walls, I am just embarrassing myself.
8. When my human covers my doggie aspirin in peanut butter I will not lick it all off and throw the pill onto the floor.
9. After my chiropractor is done treating me and dad and him stay to chat, I will not huff and puff and pace to the front door, bonking at it with my nose until my human gets the point. He knows I want to leave.
10. I will not silently walk up to the side of the bed when my humans are being romantic and lick their faces. This only gets me thrown out of the room.
11. I will not walk casually into the room, wrapped in a sheet like a toga. (we couldn't figure out how she did it, so it just freaked us out.)
12. I will not drink sea water and then angrily glare at my human as if she made it taste bad.
13. I will not rub my wet nose all over the front windows (Times 4, = very dirty windows)
14. I will not jump from couch to couch and zip around the room at 90 mph when I get the "zooms." (If we clap and chant, "Go Xena. Go Xena. It's your birthday. Go Xena" she goes really fast.)
15. If I don't want the treat my human is handing out I can not take it, gently place it on the floor and expectantly wait for something better.
16. When my humans take me fishing, I will refrain from swimming out to where they are fly fishing to offer them my tennis ball. They are busy and I scare away the fish.
17. I will not attack the empty wrapping paper tube while my dad is shouting my name through it, like it's a bull horn.
18. I will not become an active part of everyone else's bathtime and then freak out when it is my turn.
. I am a dog, not a bull. I do not need to charge the bedroom door when it is partly closed, and it hurts when it's latched.
20. When my humans are chatting in bed at night I do not need to repeatedly moan, sigh and groan loudly to let them know they are keeping me awake, their laughter when I do this, keeps me awake too.
21. I will not stand in front of the swamp cooler and then stare pointedly at my humans. They know I'm hot but it's expensive.
22. I will not excitedly pick up my ball and run around when my mom gets up in the middle of the night to pee. She has never suddenly gone outside at 2 am for a game of fetch in the past.
23. I will only do my "someone's out there" bark when there really is someone out there.
24. We do not have a doorbell. I will not bark and run to the door each time the Domino's Pizza commercial is on TV.
25. W
hen I am in the lake with my humans, I am completely safe being held and can stop panicking and clawing at them.
26. I am a dog. This means that I can go outside to do my business when it's raining, without melting, and I don't have to daintily step around every single puddle. It's water not acid.
27. I will not cower and shiver in fear when the vacuum appears. It will NOT suck me in, nor has Mom EVER tried to run me over with it.
28. I will not get so excited when I see a treat that I do every trick I know whether my human asked for it or not.
29. I will not lay my 75 pound body across my mom's lap and then become annoyed with her, when I spill over the sides. It is not her fault I don't fit.
30. Even though I have the markings of a Holstein, doesn't mean I have to graze like one.

Man I love those poochies.

Monday, October 18, 2004

For the Love of God--Don't Try This At Home

If you accidentally wax off most of your left eyebrow, would you think it was a good idea to do the same with your right eyebrow? Of course not because you wouldn't be dumb enough to attempt this yourself. You would have the foresight to only have this done by a professional. Would you think to yourself, hey I am bleaching sections of my hair. I should bleach my massive eyebrows too. No you wouldn't. Let's just ripping off most of my eyebrows may be an improvement. Would you think, hey, if I bleach my dark brown hair with blonde streaks, this time it won't come out Ronald McDonald orange, even though every single other time I tried it, it did? No you would learn from your past mistakes. It looks like someone cracked an orange egg on my head. Excuse me while I go attempt to repair this disaster. Not the eyebrows, it's too late for them. (Taps music plays)

************Update 10/19/04 ******************

Whew, I fixed my hair. Now at least it looks like I did it on purpose. Sadly it is too late for the brows. I will miss them.. A moment of silence please.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Things That Make You Go Hmmm....

I cannot for the life of me figure out how to put my favorite Blogs into the column on the left. What infuriates me is that fact that I know it can be done.(Jen P-email me?) Sigh. I will figure it out. But right now it's time for some shout outs. These are the Blogs I can't live without, (only the top 3 are in order): *Fertility Now!* (My favorite--of course she's smart enough to figure out how to make the list of Blogs), Vintage Uterus,(she's feisty) and The Rabbit Lived, (she's pregnant!) My three favorites "new to me" are Losing the Baby Wait, herveryown and Pregnancy by committee. I also always read: Julia (Here be Hippogriffs), the Uterine Wars, the Underproductive Reproductive, the RE's Muse, BrokenOrNot, My Reich Ovary, Horkin Ramblings, JellyBelly, and A Little Pregnant. These are my peeps, my girls, my homies. There are a lot of others I check in on but I will wait and just put them in the column when I figure it out.

I registered to vote. I have never voted before but this election is soooo important. Unfortunately both candidates suck, but one definitely sucks waaaaay more. My political views, at least for now, I will not disclose, but my decisions are very much based on, what is best for our troops, keeping our country terrorist free and preserving our culture. That's enough of that.

Let's see what's up on the IF front. Not much. I tried to check my ovulation yesterday, with my spanking new, handy dandy Saliva Ovulation Predictor Kit. It looks like a tube of lipstick and it has this built in mini-microscope. The only thing I learned was that I had wasted my 27 dollars.

I think this was the most boring post yet. I don't even care what I'm saying anymore... ZZZZZZ

Friday, October 15, 2004

And That's All I Have to Say About that

I am a daddy's girl, there is no doubt about it. My mom and I are best friends, but my dad and I have a very unique bond. I have known about the topic I write about today for a little while, but I haven't been able to write about it before. My dad just got diagnosed with this, and he has to have this surgery on a pituitary tumor they found. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, but after the surgery my dad has to be in ICU and I don't like that at all. Every time I think about my dad and hospitals, all I can picture is the one time he came to visit Chris in the hospital when he broke his ankle. We were in the emergency room and I spotted my dad walking across the crowded room. He has such presence, as if he just belonged there. No one questioned him, no one stopped him or asked him where he was going. Oh, they noticed him. Nurses and doctors acknowledged him, with a differential nod. I hate the thought of my dad in a hospital as a patient. My dad runs marathons and ultra-marathons. He works out and lifts weights. I go to my mom for the emotional stuff and my dad when I want to hear it straight. My dad helps me be tough when I want to be weak. I always brag about how my dad is the second in command of an entire state hospital, he has two masters degrees and was once in charge of a budget of over a million dollars. But I also brag how my dad sticks things in his nose, and waits for me or my mom to notice, and he is very patient. My dad is famous for his BBQs, his homemade pancakes and his "barking spiders". My dad stashes away canned "smoothies" as if they may stop making them at any moment. He is as mechanically disinclined as I am domestically disabled. I don't want him in a hospital, not for one second. Period. And that's all I have to say about that

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Would You Like Fries With That Bra?

I went shopping yesterday. Sometimes I was driven out of stores by over-zealous sales people. I had to take out restraining orders on three of them. The ones at Victoria's Secret were the most invasive. I have come to learn that with bras, you get out of them, what you put into them. No I'm not talking about boobies, I am talking about money. If you buy cheap bras, they fall apart. I get that now. The one I was wearing on my quest to find 2 perfect bras, was being held together with safety pins. I was ready to spend some serious $ in pursuit of the perfect brassiere. So, I innocently walked into VS.

Sales lady #1: Hi! Welcome to our store, what are you looking for today?
(I refrained from saying, "Duh, underwear.")

Me: Well, I'll know it when I see it.
(Ha Ha foiled! )

I walked in to the second section.

Sales lady #2: Hi! Let me tell you about that bra you are looking at. It comes in 13 colors, it both lifts and separates and is made of polysynthetic nylon. What size are you?

Me: Whoa, you are moving way to fast. You have to at least buy me dinner first.
(Ha Ha foiled again. )

So I am looking at the bras and I realize every single decent bra in there is $38.99. I'm supposed to pay $80 for 2 good bras?!?!!?

Sales lady #3: Oh, our Angels collection, how many would you like? Ma'am? Where'd she go? Ladies, cover the exits, one is trying to escape without trying on our fall line. Places everyone!!!!

At this point, I ducked behind a mannequin, dropped to the ground, rolled, did a low crawl under a display table, threw a lotion bottle as a diversion and then stood up and made a break for the exit.
Whew! That was insane. I ended up just buying two wonderbras at Macy's. Mostly I'll be wondering what I'll fill them with. Let's see, what else did I buy... Some accessories for my Halloween costume, a cute dog collar with little skulls and cross bones on it for Gabby, undies, and the most amazing corset. Let me just say, Va va va voom!

Speaking of Va Voom, Chris and I finally had one day off together. Very nice. We are not TTC this month, but I think I ovulated today. I wonder if I am going to give in and try out my new Saliva Ovulation Predictor Test. Must. Be. Strong.

Only 16 days until my 29th birthday. Halloween. Yes, I know that explains a lot. You know, sometimes the things we do in our pasts, come back to bite us. Let me give you a personal example. When Chris and I got married, he was 19 and I was 21. He turned 20 just days later. Well, the entire first year of our marriage, I used to tell him, "Aw, would you like me to pick up some beer for you? Since you aren't old enough to buy it for yourself?" And every time he would say, "When you turn 30 and I'm still in my 20s it's going to be payback time." I really thought nothing of it at the time. But now? Chris will not stop saying, "Now that you're almost 30...." I see my future now. Every 10 years he will do this, and I only got in one good dig. Somehow, I don't think, "Aw, I get the Senior discount and you don't" that I could use in 20 or so years, has the same zing to it. Crap.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Oh, Oh, Pick me! Pick me!

I know that for us adoption is a very real option, in the future. Even after I do get pregnant and have my own kids, (how's that for positive thinking), I still want to adopt. I really want to adopt a deaf child, because I am fluent in American Sign Language and Chris is learning. So, I often lurk around the various adoption web pages. A recurring theme on all of these sites, are Home Studies. Uh oh. Do you have to do one of those? I can only imagine what ours would be like. Let's all imagine, shall we, that you can follow along via virtual tour as I meet with our social worker:

"Hi, sorry I am late, I just got off my usual 12 hour shift. Welcome to our home. It's a home that we don't own by the way, and sorry about the crappy neighborhood. I am pretty sure they are selling drugs across the street, too. Come on in. Oh, whoops, don't trip over Riley. Why yes she is a Pitt bull. And here's Gabby. Gabby, down. Down Gabby. Gabby, get down. Stop jumping on the nice lady! Oh, sorry about your dress...So here is our living room. No, no, that's not carpet, that's about 3 inches of dog hair on the floor--I haven't vacuumed in months. Hmm? Oh, no that isn't a dog in the corner it's just a really big hair ball! We only have four large dogs. Are you choking? Can I get you a glass of water? No? That's probably for the best, I don't have any clean glasses anyway. Also we were sent a letter recently from the city, asking us not to drink the water. Something about high levels of chlorine. Yes, it is pretty normal for me to have about 2 weeks worth of dirty dishes in the sink. No, no don't open the oven! Oops, you caught me, I hid some more of the dirty dishes in there. How embarrassing. Now, over here somewhere under all these magazines and bags is a really nice kitchen table. Oh no, that's not an unusual pattern on the linoleum floor, those are muddy dog prints! Here is the den/storage/future child's room. No, we didn't just move in, we've been here two years, I just haven't got around to unpacking, yet. Sorry about the bills scattered all over the desk here. I am trying to pay off some really big loans. Our credit is pretty crappy but we're working on it, (nervous laughter). We may be poor, but what we lack in money, we make up for with our rich personalities! Ha, ha, ha, ahem. You'd like to know where my husband is? Oh he couldn't make it, he is at the hospital. He got in a fight with an armed suspect who pulled a gun on him and a fight ensued. He's getting stitches. The suspect, not my husband, silly! That husband of mine, always getting into these madcap adventures, gun fights and high speed pursuits! (Awkward silence). Ok, um, moving right along, this is the bathroom. Oh, that? Yes the paint is peeling off the wall. I realize it's only one foot off the floor, and yes it is lead based, but don't worry I wouldn't let the kid lick the walls! Ha Ha Ha. Is it it warm in here, or is it just me. What am I thinking our Air Conditioner's broken, of course it's me! Who could forget the 100 degree summer we had! Um, yeah, so down here at the end of the hall is our room. Oh, that? That is the gun cabinet, we keep meaning to fix the lock on that. Oh my gosh, Xena! I'm sure this nice lady doesn't want that icky dead mouse! She's always bringing us 'presents'. Where are you going? What do you mean you have to leave? Ma'am come back! You forgot your purse...Sigh"

Yeah, I'm sure our prospects will be lining up around the block.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Things I Have Injured Myself on Recently:

I have recently hurt myself on, around or near: a potato chip, a blanket, my bed, an ice cream cone, a soup can (while still closed with no can opener in sight), a fern, a couch cushion, a pair of socks and a tube of hair gel.

You have not met anyone as clumsy as me. And really bizarre things happen to me too. Usually in front of Chris or really large crowds. Let me give you a few examples.

When I first met my husband, when I was still in the wanting-to-impress-and-be-irresistible-to phase of our courtship, he said something sarcastic and I shoved him, in a coy, "you're so funny" way. He shoved me back and I went flying into the bushes. I sat there looking up at him through the foliage, laugh/crying because I was so mortified.

Last week we went for Baskin and Robbins and I slipped on some ice cream in the parking lot. I ended up doing the front-to-back splits, like a foot off the ground. I said, "Super Star" with my hands in the air like Mary Katherine Gallagher on SNL while onlookers stared.

Not long ago Chris and I went out to dinner at Red Robin and I ordered my favorite garden salad that comes with really thin little strips of tortilla strips on top. I bit down on my salad and one of the strips flew up my nose, but it had also gotten stuck on my bottom lip at the same time so I looked like a bulldog and had a tortilla strip up my nose! To make matters worse, I couldn't stop laughing which made it nearly impossible to dislodge it from my mouth, which had to be done before I could pull it out of my nose. 100% true with zero exaggeration. What did my husband do? He didn't even laugh, he is so used to this sort of thing with me. He just shook his head, and said, "Only you could get injured by a house salad."

One time I accidentally sent a computer message that was meant for a co-worker, asking her in "dispatcher language" if she wanted a break, but sent it out to all the police officers instead. So what, you may be thinking... I sent, "I heard you wanted a quickie" to about 20 officers, who needless to say, all felt the need to promptly reply.

I leave my fly down, get spinach stuck in my teeth and spill something on myself, pretty much on a daily basis. I am a one woman disaster. If I can mess up something while talking, I will. In college, I told my professor I would do my breast, I mean best! While classmates laughed. One time I raised my hand in math class, and said, "Mom, what did you say the answer was ..... " Then realized, OMG I just called the teacher mom! I've called a Police Sergeant, "Chicken Butt" (the nickname I have for Chris), and I have walked around an entire day with a dryer sheet attached to my pants. When I used to bag groceries in high school, I told a coworker, how much I loved the chocolate coins that our customer was buying, before the checker leaned over and hissed, "Those aren't candy, they are Gold Circle Coin condoms." My face is so often red.

And in closing, let me tell you how I embarrassed myself today. Our good friend Aaron brought his son Sean over, after they finished moving in next door. Aaron knows every detail about our infertile journey, we've known him since high school and he always asks for details. So Aaron says, "Sean, don't you want to go see Rebecca? Go see her. Go sit on Rebecca's lap. Why don't you go give Rebecca a hug. Go on Sean. Sean, aren't you so happy to see Rebecca? Rebecca loves you Sean." I couldn't take it anymore, I pretty much shouted, "Aaron, I know you are trying to make me feel better, but the poor barren woman does not need your pity! You don't have to practically throw your kid on me to make me feel better. I'm alright, OK?" Silence. "Um, Rebecca, I was only saying all that because, Sean has been talking about you non stop all day and then we come over here, and he is acting all shy...."
Well don't I feel like a horses ass. Again.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Open Letter to the Drivers of This Area

Dear Horrid, horrid, horrid, drivers,

Maybe it's not your fault. Maybe you can't help it or maybe you are unaware. Maybe your heads are so far up your collective asses, you can't see out the front windshield.... No matter what the cause, I am here to help. Here are some thoughts I had on the way to work today.

When you tailgate me, it does not inspire me to go faster, it only annoys me. Especially if I am not even in the fast lane.

That rubber blow up doll in the front seat, does not mean you can take advantage of the carpool lane.

When you swerve into my lane to avoid something else, you are not making a safe decision you are just changing the object you are about to hit.

Can you not understand the concept of merging? It is the same concept as zipping a zipper, try it sometime.

Do you understand, when I am trying to get on the freeway, and my lane is ending, when my only choice is hit you or hit the freeway wall, that I will choose you every time?

When I see you are talking on your cell phone, smoking a cigarette, putting on your mascara and looking at your map, forgive me when I doubt your ability to multi-task.

Just because you have your hazards on and are going really slow, doesn't mean you can drive on the shoulder in heavy traffic--that is not your own personal lane.

When an ambulance is coming up behind you-- get over to the right!!!! Don't, for the love of all that is good and true, just stop right where you are!

Everyone knows I love dogs, but get your stupid chihuahua off your lap and away from the window. It won't be so cute when he falls out and you have to scrape him off the roadway with a spatula.

If you are leaned so far back, you appear to be driving from the back seat, sit up straight, you look like an idiot.

If you are so short, you can only see by looking through the steering wheel, get yourself a phone book or a booster chair to sit on.

If the speed limit is 55 mph and you are going 2 mph, don't you glare at me when I honk.

If I can tell that the color of your sweater, really brings out the color of your eyes, you are following too closely.

If I can see that your child in the third row of your van has braces, you are following too closely.

Do you understand, that I am in a giant truck and you are in a tiny compact car, and that you cannot intimidate me by riding my bumper? All I can see is the roof of your car and it's not especially scary.

Can you not comprehend that just because I am not riding the bumper of the guy in front of me, it doesn't mean I am not going the same speed as them? Don't you remember drivers ed? Total Stopping Distance?

Don't you see when you angrily zip past me, and cut me off, only to have to ride the bumper of the car directly in front of me that I am laughing at you? Congratulations, you will arrive exactly 1 second sooner than when you were behind me.

When you and I come to a four way stop, and I am on the right, I have the RIGHT of way! Why is this concept so difficult for you to understand? Conversely, when I am the one on the left, you cannot deem fit for me to go first. With a wave of your hand, the vehicle code does not just go away.

If I am at a red light and there is a sign right above my car that says, "No turn on red" don't honk at me when I don't go.

When I am behind you and you are tapping on your brakes so often that I think you may be signaling for help with Morse code, cut it out! (Unless you really are doing Morse code, then I will call for help.)

Nothing infuriates me more that seeing a child jumping around loose in the car. If you don't care enough about your child, how about the fact that you may be severely injured by said child when they become a flying projectile?

If I have my turn signal on, it means I want to get over. It does not mean speed up just enough so I cannot get over until I miss my exit, and then decide get out of the way.

When your lane ends, you cannot drive next to me and share mine. Merge!

When I am behind you on the freeway onramp and we are both attempting to merge, you going 10 miles per hour is really dangerous for me. Say it with me, "Long skinny pedal on the right" Push it!

And the biggest most aggravating of all: TURN SIGNALS ARE NOT OPTIONAL, PEOPLE!!!!

Sincerely, Your Fellow Irate Driver

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Yipee! I am Going Under the Knife!

OK so I said I would give an update on yesterday's doctors appointment. I am very excited to say, I am going to have my surgery November 10th. I am excited because I will get some real answers. Most people at this stage in the game have had an HSG, but not me, because my insurance won't pay for it, so everything so far has only been guesswork. My doc thinks I have endo, so he is billing it that way, and since it is medical, the insurance will pay for it. While he is in there, he is going to shoot some dye through the tubes, just like a mini HSG and I will have ANSWERS. Answers = excitement. Good or bad, I should finally have some sort of resolution. If he finds endo, he will burn it away, and he says then my chances at pregnancy for the next month will go way up. If he finds a blockage in my tubes, well, either he will clear it away or he won't be able to and it's game over. But that is still something. Even "No" is an answer. The doc was amazed when I told him how severe my reaction was the other day. He was surprised at the timing. He thinks maybe it is progesterone overload, not the Clomid. But he said, "No Clomid for you!" like the soup nazi on Seinfeld. In December, I will go back to just the progesterone bullets and if I have a bad reaction again, we can try something else.

Moving right along, I am going to be Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. Here is a picture of my Halloween costume. Chris will be the wolf. He doesn't like dressing up so he can just wear all brown and I'll get him the wolf mask. He said today, "But I don't want to wear a mask it will make me hot." I told him it was only a face mask with elastic, and that he could wear it backwards for all I cared. "But then people will be talking to the back of me." I said, "That's perfect, you don't like talking to anyone anyway!" "Oh, yeah. I like the idea then." Let me explain something about my husband and why our marriage works so well. I am like a human buffer for Chris. He does not like to talk to people, especially strangers. I will talk to anyone. Chris told me, I could make friends at my own hanging. He does not like crowded noisy places. I am often the reason places become noisy. It works out really well though, when people start to talk to Chris I subtly move in between Chris and said person, thus making him safely insulated. And you want Chris to be happy. Because he carries a gun. Which brings me to a interesting point. You may ask yourself, how can such a person be a good cop? But he really is. He is a totally different person when he puts on that uniform. He becomes talkative, animated and even bilingual. He is really tough and intimidating too. However, God love him, I tell him, when he comes home he hangs up his brain with his badge sometimes. I say, how can someone so smart and so put together at work, forget to put the trash out every single Monday? Or forget to pick up the dog food? Or forget my days off even though they are the same, every single week?Or have to be reminded days in advance, not to forget to take Xena for her monthly chiropractor visit? If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "Oh was that today?" I'd be rich. I'm not being mean, he'll tell you the same thing. But like I said, we really do compliment each others personality perfectly. Everyone thinks Chris is so quiet and serious, but the other night when I was at work, I told Chris to hang on the phone, while I talked to my officers on the radio. Now, he knows the drill, he has to be perfectly quiet and stop talking to me or I get distracted, and usually he is really good at it. The other night though... I said hang on to Chris, and I began talking on the air, and then all the sudden I hear Chris singing, "Gabby Gabby Gabby, wag your tail, Gabby Gabby Gabby, waggin your tail." And I just lost it. I was laughing so hard, I couldn't breathe--or dispatch. When I told him, how could you do that, you know I get distracted? He said, "You said not to talk to you, I wasn't, I was talking to Gabby." Well, I can't argue with that. He has songs for all the dogs. The one he sings the most is sung to the tune of the dradle song. He sings, "Xena Xena Xena God made you out of clay, Xena Xena Xena, and with you I will play. They love it. But you should see Gabby. Never was their a tiny black lab that loved to be sung to as much as her. Gabby is the one, I told you about who is crazy because the high fever from the parvo kind of fried her little brain. How is she crazy? Let me give you some examples. You know cartoons when they get dizzy, they draw the eyes spinning? Her eyes get like that sometimes, and we're like, "Uh oh, it's happening, Gabby focus, focus." It's not such a big deal at home, but when she has breaks with reality at the dog park--not so good. Like the time she mistook a pug for a cat. Oh she hates cats. That little pug has no idea how close it came going to "a happy place" that day. Also, she'll eat anything, including one time my birth control pills. Try that one for your pharmacist. "No really, my dog ate my BCPs. See?" I held up the pills with jagged dog teeth marks, only then did I get an early refill. Or she collects things, that are obviously meaningful to her and puts them into a "nest". Most recently I found a stash of: a tube of toothpaste, a pez dispenser, a pair of Chris' boxer shorts, and entire, unharmed but completely open package of pantyliners and a baseball cap. And finally, if I have not convinced you yet, maybe the following will. It is totally normal for dogs to sniff other dogs pee. It's kind of like an up to the minute ticker tape of information that tells the dog sniffing where the peeing dog was and what it's been up to. Gabby is the only dog I have ever seen that pees while rotating in a circle so she can smell her own pee-apparently so she can find out where she's been. Sweetest, most pure of heart dog that ever was. I have noticed this about myself: When I begin droning on and on about my dogs, it's time to sign off. While fascinating to me--I will spare you--for now.

Shout out to my friend and co-worker Denise who had her baby, Jackson Royce, 8 pounds, 20 inches! Way to go! I'll be smelling you soon little man!

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

The Amazing Healing Power of a Good Husband, a Good Doctor and a Good Shopping Spree

This will have to be short, my home computer could self destruct at any moment. AAHHH, the pressure. I can hear the Jeopardy! Music in the background. "The answer is a prehistoric method of communication." "Oh, Alex I know this one, what is dial-up internet access???" "That's right Becky, you've won--Becky? Oh, she's lost her connection, too bad." Crap.

Ok, so I got in to see Doc H today, someone canceled, and I'll be honest, I tested him. It was a big test and if he failed, I was truly going to thank him for his time and walk into the arms of another man. Or woman. Doctor that is, of course! Well, guess what, he passed with flying colors!!! I was a little worried, he is a little of a spastic, but he did great. More on that tomorrow. You know my little buddy Sean? Well he just turned 3 Oct. First. Shout out to Sean, way to go little man! He is having a party on the 16th, but I probably won't make it due to the fact that it's an hour away and in the middle of the day. I don't climb into bed until 8am so the chances of me crawling out of bed before noon are slim to none. Before you think I am a total jerk, let me tell you, that shopping spree that so lifted my spirits today? It was mostly for him. There is a brand new Lego store near my house and I went insane in the membrane. Hmm, the race car theme or the Zoo theme..... Well his mom worked in a zoo, and his dad is a mechanic..... What the hell I'll buy them both! Ohhhh, look at this little cup with his name on it!!!! I know he can't read, but he'll love it. Oh my gosh, the "Corduroy" book series! Mom used to read me about that bear! OK, throw that in too. Still think I am a monster?

My next stop was Old Navy. Love it! I bought 4 pairs of pants for me (all on sale) and 2 shirts for Chris. Next stop, Tower records. CD for Chris, magazine for me. Had to have comfort food, MMMMMM Round Table Pizza. Yummy! Hey, what's that? It's a new book from one of my favorite authors, I'll take that! Oh, a Far Side mini calendar! Perfect for my locker at work! The little boxes will perfectly fit for writing in my OT shifts that I will have to work, to make up for the cost of this spree. (Lucky there is no shortage of overtime.) On to the video store. Three funny, (I hope) films for tonight. Then---OMG my dog Riley just farted. She actually had the audacity just now to turn and look at her own bum, like, was that me? Ew! Maybe it was the Scooby Snacks I bought them. Wow, my eyes are watering so bad I almost can't see the screen. I could bottle that stank and send it overseas for the troops.

I digress. So my husband, worked that golf tournament just so he could spend the afternoon and evening with me, right? He didn't get home until 6pm!!!! He had a horrible headache, was totally sunburned and hadn't slept in 24 hours. But God bless him he took me to dinner, slept a little while, (both at the restaurant and then at home) and then we took the dogs to the park in the middle of the night. Then we watched a movie. And snuggled. It was great. My birthday is coming up. Halloween. Greatest birthday in the world. Tomorrow I'll link to show you what costume I picked out. Thank you for the support guys, boy did it help. Till tomorrow, G'night!!!!

Sunday, October 03, 2004

The One Where I Cry Uncle

I can't do this anymore. Not right now. Emotionally, I am drowning. I have already told y'all that I take Zoloft for chemical depression. For whatever reason, I have come to believe the Clomid, and possibly the Progesterone must cancel out the benefits of Zoloft. I feel so horrible inside and I don't want to feel this way anymore. I am still going to have the laproscopy next month and I am planning on doing the IUIs, maybe in January or so, but the drugs have got to go. I am in agony and this is so not me. I did some research and this was listed on Clomid-side effects:

Mental depression; Existing depression may become worse because of hormone
changes caused by clomiphene

Why didn't my doctor tell me this? He said "You might get a little irritable". Honey, this ain't irritable this is down right irrational! On the other hand, research shows progesterone seems to soothe depression. It is estrogen that can tweak it... I am going to call my doc first thing in the morning and get an appointment. I can't do this alone, and if nothing else he needs to know first hand, what Clomid and a person with depression can cause; that this is a lot more serious than a little irritability. It is kind of scary because, I refuse to be controlled by this, but I have to be very careful how I go about getting "help." If I go to a mental health professional that could come back to bite me in the ass. I got stuck in backgrounds for over a month because I had originally been seen by a psychiatrist 8 years ago. I can only imagine, if I went for a job interview in the future, and they found out I went to one recently, (if I decide to). If my current job found out I could also get yanked from this position because they may worry that I am a liability. Yuck. I am having a yucky time. On my past day off, I stayed curled in a ball for hours crying. That's not healthy. I am going to make a commitment. Tomorrow, I am going to get outside, I am going to take the dogs somewhere and not dwell. I think I will go shopping, that always makes me feel happy. I am going to rent silly movies and do a puzzle. Damn it, I will fight!

*************Update 10/4 **********

I feel a lot better, already. Just making decisions and knowing I am not crazy helps alot. DH got the day off today, just to spend it with me, because he knows I am not feeling good. It is not easy for him to do this. In order to get the time off, he has to work at a CHP golf tournament until noon today after working all night. Such love!