So, some of my friends are having this little shindig tonight, and we were told to bring some food along. The food was suppose to be "outside of the bag." (I believe the person who sent me that text message meant "outside the box," but I think I got the gist.)
I'm going with chicken dip, probably because no one is expecting me to bring something like that. (We're a veggie platter family.) It's just about to come out of the oven.
Meanwhile, I find myself writing a little ditty about chicken dip. I'm not really sure why, but it sounds like something you'd hear in a cute little commercial.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Editing
Have been editing a short story today. I wrote it at the end of last week, and asked my friend Caryn to look at it. She said she liked it, which I guess is better than her not liking it. Most of her corrections were little things, like where words were placed within a sentence.
Power Down pt. 3
The power went out again yesterday, which is why I didn't update yesterday. (I was planning to, I swear.)
So much of what I do with my time requires the Internet or at least a computer. Much of my keeping up with friends happens online, I search for job opportunities online, I do much of my writing on my Word processor, etc. So I suddenly didn't have a lot to do.
I went out for a walk. I went through the park, and at one point, got accosted by a dog. The owner was nice enough, but the law is they're suppose to be on a leash, but I swear at least half of the dogs I see around there aren't. I didn't time it as well as I should have, and I came back really sweaty and gross.
I decided to take a quick shower to wash off with some soap. Just as I was about to get in, my family came home. I didn't really want them to know I had been out, so I jumped in a little faster than normal.
And when I came out, ten minutes later, they were gone again.
So I sat in one of the rooms with decent sunlight and read another three chapters of a book I am (slowly, agonizingly) working through. So far, it was eight chapters total for the day, which is way more than I usually read, but, like I said, most of the stuff I needed or wanted to do was unavailable to me.
Then I tried to lay down and sleep. I feel in and out of sleep, at one point hearing my sister and Dad talk about my sister going to my Grandma's place. My Mom was apparently there. My sister had her final exam the next day and wanted somewhere to study. She was complaining that she could never get things done with Mom around. I think the real problem is the tv blasting, but I didn't get up to say anything. And I feel back asleep.
I woke up around 11:30, and now the house was completely dark. No sunlight to use. So I went downstairs and had a real shower. I don't know where the hot water went (I didn't use it) but the shower was deathly cold. I tried to do that thing where you shampoo your hair and then use the water, and it kind of worked, but I had goosebumps all over.
I got a snack, which was tough to eat in the dark because I was having trouble seeing it, but I managed. My Dad came down and mentioned to me that my sister was gone. I actually wasn't sure, given the tenor of the conversation I overheard, what my sister had decided. As I was eating, my Dad went up to bed.
After I finished, I tried reading some more. First I tried to make it work by moonlight, but that wasn't enough. So then I tried flashlight. I read another chapter. Nine chapters is one day is a lot for me, at least right now. I've got about two hundred more pages before I finish. I was thinking I would read more, but I felt bad about using up valuable flashlight energy, so I decided to quit.
As I was walking upstairs, my Dad thought I was a burglar or that one was downstairs, because he went to investigate. Scared me a little.
I couldn't sleep. After my little trip back to school, I was pleasantly surprised by how I adjusted into a more normal sleep cycle. I was so pleased at myself, because usually I can only keep it going for a day or two before it messes up. But I managed this one for over a week. And then all this strange no-power, screwed-up schedule ended it. I guess I should have known it wasn't going to last.
I did finally fall into an uneasy sleep before dawn. I woke up to the sound of my Dad on the phone with someone, then him rustling around in the kitchen. It meant the power wasn't on, and that he was probably trying to clean out the refrigerator before things went bad.
So much of what I do with my time requires the Internet or at least a computer. Much of my keeping up with friends happens online, I search for job opportunities online, I do much of my writing on my Word processor, etc. So I suddenly didn't have a lot to do.
I went out for a walk. I went through the park, and at one point, got accosted by a dog. The owner was nice enough, but the law is they're suppose to be on a leash, but I swear at least half of the dogs I see around there aren't. I didn't time it as well as I should have, and I came back really sweaty and gross.
I decided to take a quick shower to wash off with some soap. Just as I was about to get in, my family came home. I didn't really want them to know I had been out, so I jumped in a little faster than normal.
And when I came out, ten minutes later, they were gone again.
So I sat in one of the rooms with decent sunlight and read another three chapters of a book I am (slowly, agonizingly) working through. So far, it was eight chapters total for the day, which is way more than I usually read, but, like I said, most of the stuff I needed or wanted to do was unavailable to me.
Then I tried to lay down and sleep. I feel in and out of sleep, at one point hearing my sister and Dad talk about my sister going to my Grandma's place. My Mom was apparently there. My sister had her final exam the next day and wanted somewhere to study. She was complaining that she could never get things done with Mom around. I think the real problem is the tv blasting, but I didn't get up to say anything. And I feel back asleep.
I woke up around 11:30, and now the house was completely dark. No sunlight to use. So I went downstairs and had a real shower. I don't know where the hot water went (I didn't use it) but the shower was deathly cold. I tried to do that thing where you shampoo your hair and then use the water, and it kind of worked, but I had goosebumps all over.
I got a snack, which was tough to eat in the dark because I was having trouble seeing it, but I managed. My Dad came down and mentioned to me that my sister was gone. I actually wasn't sure, given the tenor of the conversation I overheard, what my sister had decided. As I was eating, my Dad went up to bed.
After I finished, I tried reading some more. First I tried to make it work by moonlight, but that wasn't enough. So then I tried flashlight. I read another chapter. Nine chapters is one day is a lot for me, at least right now. I've got about two hundred more pages before I finish. I was thinking I would read more, but I felt bad about using up valuable flashlight energy, so I decided to quit.
As I was walking upstairs, my Dad thought I was a burglar or that one was downstairs, because he went to investigate. Scared me a little.
I couldn't sleep. After my little trip back to school, I was pleasantly surprised by how I adjusted into a more normal sleep cycle. I was so pleased at myself, because usually I can only keep it going for a day or two before it messes up. But I managed this one for over a week. And then all this strange no-power, screwed-up schedule ended it. I guess I should have known it wasn't going to last.
I did finally fall into an uneasy sleep before dawn. I woke up to the sound of my Dad on the phone with someone, then him rustling around in the kitchen. It meant the power wasn't on, and that he was probably trying to clean out the refrigerator before things went bad.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Getting What You Paid For
My Mom and I were out to eat. We had frequented this restaurant four times in the last week, I realized.
As we were about to leave, the waitress came up to me and told me that she had terrible acne like mine when she was little. That's right, a waitress approached me and said something about it without anyone saying anything to her. It was a little strange, but not the end of the world.
She suggested something that she would buy at the dollar store and was so powerful that I would have to use it sparingly. I was intrigued, and maybe I'll try it.
It was totally strange to get accosted by a waitress my Mom's age.
As we were about to leave, the waitress came up to me and told me that she had terrible acne like mine when she was little. That's right, a waitress approached me and said something about it without anyone saying anything to her. It was a little strange, but not the end of the world.
She suggested something that she would buy at the dollar store and was so powerful that I would have to use it sparingly. I was intrigued, and maybe I'll try it.
It was totally strange to get accosted by a waitress my Mom's age.
The Next Place
We tried another place for my Grandma, just because it seemed silly not to consider several options. We walked into a place where there was a little alcove and a bunch of small cafe tables. We signed in. As we walked past, I noticed they had a drink dispenser just like the one the had at the caf at school. I suddenly felt oddly homesick. I missed school. It was an odd thing to remind me of school, I guess, but it did.
We walked down long hallways decorated with green and yellow carpets. Again, there was a lot of fancy decorating that reminded me of old homes. We went through a large room that had a cross on the wall.
We came to a receptionist and asked for a tour. She asked us to fill out a form. My Mom started, then she was getting a call of her cell phone.
One of the things I find that I hate about hanging with my Mom is that she is always getting calls from people. Sometimes they are work related, but their mostly just women who call every day just to talk. Sometimes I'd like to remind people that my Mom is very busy, and doesn't really have time to just talk. My Mom passed me the clipboard, and I began to write other things out.
When it came to my Grandma's conditions, my mind went blank. I knew what was wrong with her, I could explain it, and yet the names of the conditions were just at the tip of my brain. I knew that was a sign that I was tired. I tried to fill it out as best as I could.
When my Mom got off the phone, she looked at my work. "I wouldn't draw attention to this," she said. Then she softened. "But otherwise good job." I wasn't really interested in what she had to say about it, one way or another.
The Program Director came to see us. She was young, looking not that much older than me (which made me wonder). She had long dark brown hair and freckles. She was wearing a purple blouse with a big chunky necklace. She took us around.
She reminded us, almost immediately, that they were a Catholic community. They had mass once a week, as well as rosary once a month and other activities.
She took us into a room to see. She showed us the bed, that a tv already came with the room. She asked if my Grandma was on oxygen. Usually she wasn't, but then my Mom mentioned she might be.
My heart fell a little. No one had mentioned she was going to go on oxygen, though it made sense. She had trouble moving, was tired all the time, and was having respiratory problems. Oxygen made a lot of sense, though I find myself more worried the less she can do for herself. The director showed us how the room was set up to conceal her oxygen tank in a wall fixture.
Every room was private, and every room came with a full bathroom. That scared me a little. My Grandma shouldn't be showering on her own, and she's lazy enough that she doesn't try, but I could see a resident who lacked that to try and shower on their own and then slip and fall.
The director explained that my Grandma's drugs would generally be in her room, because they didn't like pushing a cart around like in a hospital.
"Is there anyone on call at night?" my Mom asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
That didn't sound so good to me either.
We walked down long hallways decorated with green and yellow carpets. Again, there was a lot of fancy decorating that reminded me of old homes. We went through a large room that had a cross on the wall.
We came to a receptionist and asked for a tour. She asked us to fill out a form. My Mom started, then she was getting a call of her cell phone.
One of the things I find that I hate about hanging with my Mom is that she is always getting calls from people. Sometimes they are work related, but their mostly just women who call every day just to talk. Sometimes I'd like to remind people that my Mom is very busy, and doesn't really have time to just talk. My Mom passed me the clipboard, and I began to write other things out.
When it came to my Grandma's conditions, my mind went blank. I knew what was wrong with her, I could explain it, and yet the names of the conditions were just at the tip of my brain. I knew that was a sign that I was tired. I tried to fill it out as best as I could.
When my Mom got off the phone, she looked at my work. "I wouldn't draw attention to this," she said. Then she softened. "But otherwise good job." I wasn't really interested in what she had to say about it, one way or another.
The Program Director came to see us. She was young, looking not that much older than me (which made me wonder). She had long dark brown hair and freckles. She was wearing a purple blouse with a big chunky necklace. She took us around.
She reminded us, almost immediately, that they were a Catholic community. They had mass once a week, as well as rosary once a month and other activities.
She took us into a room to see. She showed us the bed, that a tv already came with the room. She asked if my Grandma was on oxygen. Usually she wasn't, but then my Mom mentioned she might be.
My heart fell a little. No one had mentioned she was going to go on oxygen, though it made sense. She had trouble moving, was tired all the time, and was having respiratory problems. Oxygen made a lot of sense, though I find myself more worried the less she can do for herself. The director showed us how the room was set up to conceal her oxygen tank in a wall fixture.
Every room was private, and every room came with a full bathroom. That scared me a little. My Grandma shouldn't be showering on her own, and she's lazy enough that she doesn't try, but I could see a resident who lacked that to try and shower on their own and then slip and fall.
The director explained that my Grandma's drugs would generally be in her room, because they didn't like pushing a cart around like in a hospital.
"Is there anyone on call at night?" my Mom asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
That didn't sound so good to me either.
Sold
My Mom and I were running errands.
First, I got to see a new dermatologist about my acne. My Mother is very particular about what I look like. I was having a really bad day, acne-wise. The dermatologist looked me over, suggested I try one thing and told me to keep using something I already was and then left.
After we got done there, we began our search for places for my Grandma's rehab. She has to go, again, it turns out, after getting out of rehab less than three months ago. Since the last place didn't really do her much good (as she's going back again), we decided to look around at other places.
The first place looked a little like a dentist office from the outside. Windows with curtains drawn, simple brick side. We went inside and requested a tour.
A woman in her early thirties showed us around. She walked us first through the long-term care, which was were my Grandma wasn't going to go since she would hopefully only be there for a few weeks. The walls were decorated with fancy wallpaper that made me think of fancy old homes. The long term ward was decorated in an off-white wallpaper, but the floor my Grandma would be on, one for short-term stays, would be green.
The woman showed us in a sample room. One old woman was laying down in a bed. She looked like she was just about to fall asleep. The set up of the room was two people per room, with a curtain to draw if you wanted a little privacy.
"What about a tv?" my Mom asked.
"We provide that if you pay 3.50."
"And internet?"
"Sorry, we don't have any access to that here."
I could tell that my Mom was trying to piece together a way for her to be with my Grandma a lot without completely forgetting her work. A lot of the paperwork my Mom does is online, which is what she does when she spend days and days over at my Grandma's place. She's there to watch her in case something happens, but she has a job to do too. Without internet access, it was going to be hard for her to stay as long. It also meant I and my sister might have to pick up the slack, which is fine.
The woman also showed us the rehab rooms. There were all the usual things that I had come to expect there, like stairs to practice walking on, and a fake kitchen for occupational therapy, and those big bouncy balls, and bikes and fake beds to practice getting in and out of. There were therapists and patients milling about. The walls were all painted pale yellow and green, and there were words of encouragement on the walls. There was a table on the side with lemonade on it, and I wanted to try some myself, just because I hadn't had anything to eat in so long.
The woman showed us a conference room, and said that every patient had a weekly conference with the doctors, nurses, therapists and family members.
"Sold," I thought. This was one of the many things that had made my Mom so mad about the last time my Grandma was in therapy. Inside, one of these conferences looked like it was going on right now. The woman led us away, back to the front offices.
First, I got to see a new dermatologist about my acne. My Mother is very particular about what I look like. I was having a really bad day, acne-wise. The dermatologist looked me over, suggested I try one thing and told me to keep using something I already was and then left.
After we got done there, we began our search for places for my Grandma's rehab. She has to go, again, it turns out, after getting out of rehab less than three months ago. Since the last place didn't really do her much good (as she's going back again), we decided to look around at other places.
The first place looked a little like a dentist office from the outside. Windows with curtains drawn, simple brick side. We went inside and requested a tour.
A woman in her early thirties showed us around. She walked us first through the long-term care, which was were my Grandma wasn't going to go since she would hopefully only be there for a few weeks. The walls were decorated with fancy wallpaper that made me think of fancy old homes. The long term ward was decorated in an off-white wallpaper, but the floor my Grandma would be on, one for short-term stays, would be green.
The woman showed us in a sample room. One old woman was laying down in a bed. She looked like she was just about to fall asleep. The set up of the room was two people per room, with a curtain to draw if you wanted a little privacy.
"What about a tv?" my Mom asked.
"We provide that if you pay 3.50."
"And internet?"
"Sorry, we don't have any access to that here."
I could tell that my Mom was trying to piece together a way for her to be with my Grandma a lot without completely forgetting her work. A lot of the paperwork my Mom does is online, which is what she does when she spend days and days over at my Grandma's place. She's there to watch her in case something happens, but she has a job to do too. Without internet access, it was going to be hard for her to stay as long. It also meant I and my sister might have to pick up the slack, which is fine.
The woman also showed us the rehab rooms. There were all the usual things that I had come to expect there, like stairs to practice walking on, and a fake kitchen for occupational therapy, and those big bouncy balls, and bikes and fake beds to practice getting in and out of. There were therapists and patients milling about. The walls were all painted pale yellow and green, and there were words of encouragement on the walls. There was a table on the side with lemonade on it, and I wanted to try some myself, just because I hadn't had anything to eat in so long.
The woman showed us a conference room, and said that every patient had a weekly conference with the doctors, nurses, therapists and family members.
"Sold," I thought. This was one of the many things that had made my Mom so mad about the last time my Grandma was in therapy. Inside, one of these conferences looked like it was going on right now. The woman led us away, back to the front offices.
Urban Legend
I was late.
So, of course, this meant my ex-boyfriend Ben was there.
My friends had texted earlier, asking if I was interested in going bowling. I'm an okay bowler, but the only time I ever go is when this group of friends calls me. So I said yes.
I wasn't expecting to be late, but, among other things, it took me longer to get ready. At the last minute, I decided to put some makeup on. And now, standing in front of my ex-boyfriend, I was grateful I had.
Ben and I dated what seems like a Millennium ago, but was really more like seven or eight years ago. We had both gone on to separate schools and he had recently gotten married. Shannon, his new wife, was there too.
Ben and I talked. He was amicable, which was not always true in my memory. He asked where I had gone to school. He asked if I had dated a particular school mate. I had, but it had ended three and a half years ago, and I told him so. I was surprised that anyone had heard about it.
"Well, everyone talked about it."
My stomach fell a little. I didn't really want everyone to be talking about it. Part of me wanted to forget about, and I certainly didn't like the idea of everyone else talking about it.
Since I had seen Adam about a month ago, I knew that Ben was living in North Carolina, working as a teacher. He said he was just up for a visit.
"You're teaching history then?" I said. He had always loved history.
"Well, more like social studies. I'm teaching fourth grade."
Oh. I was surprised to hear that, as Ben had never really liked children. He had once told me that he knew the two of us were going to be teachers, but that he would teach high school and I would be a professor. Sometimes I think the predication is going to turn out right, other times I think it's going to be wrong. I didn't voice my surprise.
I congratulated him on getting married to Shannon, and was about to turn to greet her, but she went off to bowl. She looked the same as she always had. I was grateful that I looked passable.
And then I ended the conversation. I figured that Ben and Shannon wanted to get back to what they were doing, and they didn't want to interrupted by me.
I sat down with my friends. We got talking about a conversation we had the night before, about a man that was an urban legend, but that I was certain was very real. One of Madison's college friends has an encounter with him, and I told her all about the stories I had heard over the years.
"I want to find this guy," Madison said.
"I don't. This guy apparently used a shotgun on himself and missed. I don't want to know what kind of damage he could do if he was aiming it at someone else," I said.
Tori asked after my Grandma, which was very sweet. I asked her about her cousin, who is coming all the way from Italy to visit her and her family. (We are thinking of hanging out with him a little, just so he can hang with some people closer to his age.)
We got talking about other things. Eventually, Ben and Shannon and the rest of their party left.
So, of course, this meant my ex-boyfriend Ben was there.
My friends had texted earlier, asking if I was interested in going bowling. I'm an okay bowler, but the only time I ever go is when this group of friends calls me. So I said yes.
I wasn't expecting to be late, but, among other things, it took me longer to get ready. At the last minute, I decided to put some makeup on. And now, standing in front of my ex-boyfriend, I was grateful I had.
Ben and I dated what seems like a Millennium ago, but was really more like seven or eight years ago. We had both gone on to separate schools and he had recently gotten married. Shannon, his new wife, was there too.
Ben and I talked. He was amicable, which was not always true in my memory. He asked where I had gone to school. He asked if I had dated a particular school mate. I had, but it had ended three and a half years ago, and I told him so. I was surprised that anyone had heard about it.
"Well, everyone talked about it."
My stomach fell a little. I didn't really want everyone to be talking about it. Part of me wanted to forget about, and I certainly didn't like the idea of everyone else talking about it.
Since I had seen Adam about a month ago, I knew that Ben was living in North Carolina, working as a teacher. He said he was just up for a visit.
"You're teaching history then?" I said. He had always loved history.
"Well, more like social studies. I'm teaching fourth grade."
Oh. I was surprised to hear that, as Ben had never really liked children. He had once told me that he knew the two of us were going to be teachers, but that he would teach high school and I would be a professor. Sometimes I think the predication is going to turn out right, other times I think it's going to be wrong. I didn't voice my surprise.
I congratulated him on getting married to Shannon, and was about to turn to greet her, but she went off to bowl. She looked the same as she always had. I was grateful that I looked passable.
And then I ended the conversation. I figured that Ben and Shannon wanted to get back to what they were doing, and they didn't want to interrupted by me.
I sat down with my friends. We got talking about a conversation we had the night before, about a man that was an urban legend, but that I was certain was very real. One of Madison's college friends has an encounter with him, and I told her all about the stories I had heard over the years.
"I want to find this guy," Madison said.
"I don't. This guy apparently used a shotgun on himself and missed. I don't want to know what kind of damage he could do if he was aiming it at someone else," I said.
Tori asked after my Grandma, which was very sweet. I asked her about her cousin, who is coming all the way from Italy to visit her and her family. (We are thinking of hanging out with him a little, just so he can hang with some people closer to his age.)
We got talking about other things. Eventually, Ben and Shannon and the rest of their party left.
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