I found this Smush Bush doll at my local bookstore today and promptly bought it. The quality is poor; after a couple of squeezes the head is splitting off and the skin on his nose is peeling a la Michael Jackson. There's a little bubble in the back of its head that reads "No brainer" which could easily be removed by small fingers, so beware interested parties. However it has already given me hours of enjoyment. I placed it inches from my husband's face while his eyes were closed and when he opened them and jumped, I assumed Bush's voice and said "Evil Doer!" Then I tuned in to the end of the DNC and launched my little doll into a diatribe against the Axis of Evil: the Democratic Party. My husband just shook his head, used to my, er, unique ways. I had to keep my dogs from eating my new little toy, and was it my imagination or did the doll look worried by my behavior after a while???
Yes, I'm taking my meds. I'm just easily amused.
This doll is put out by The Unemployed Philosopher's Guild, a great company from the looks of it. It isn't all political, like the anti-Bush stuff. Karmon might like these poetry scarves and ties, for example, or these interactive art pillows...
I have decided that my approbation is the kiss of death for reality show players. If I tell my husband that I like so-and-so, they get voted out or eliminated in that episode. Meanwhile the ones that I most detest thrive.
I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
I have just turned the final page of The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon and closed the book with a sigh. This was a truly beautiful novel.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I finished reading this Asimov classic- isn't everything written by the man considered a scifi classic?- a few days ago, and I really liked it. This surprised me because I don't usually enjoy this genre. I chose to read this book because several friends were reading it together at The Reader's Place. It sucked me in pretty quickly and never lost interest. I really felt sorry for the robots, particularly RB-34, known as Herbie. He couldn't help his anamoly of being able able to read minds, anymore than he could help lying to people to keep from hurting them. He had to follow the First Law of Robotics. It was very sad. The conclusion of the book was interesting and perhaps mildly disturbing; it was definitely thought-provoking. There are three other books in the Robot series, and I'll probably seek them out.
I saw the movie with my husband a couple of nights ago. It was based on the same premise as the book and contained a couple of the characters, but was otherwise completely unlike the novel. I knew that going in though, and was therefore able to enjoy it. It wasn't bad, and managed to retain that flavor of sadness about the robots. Worth seeing if you like this sort of thing.
Every time they switch my caseworker or my nurse, the new person has to call and interview me. They ask me the most stupid of questions. Do they not have my charts in front of them, or are they randomly picking out phone numbers from their rolodex to call and harass? I now have a new nurse who had trouble remembering which part of me was injured, how it was injured, what I had done and what I'm in the process of doing. I had to fill her in again from the beginning. Then came the mother of all stupid questions- which they always seem to ask: "Why can't you work?" Um, because I can't straighten out my arm, move my wrist or hold anything heavier than an empty paper cup? Is that reason enough? The last nurse asked me to tell her what course of action the doctor planned, and when I told her, including the 12 weeks of physical therapy, she said ok. This new one started lecturing me for not getting her personal ok before I started physical therapy last week! I didn't know that my old nurse left until this new one called me today, so how should I know I needed to contact her??? As far as I'm concerned I had permission to receive the treatment and this lady can kiss my ass. I have to have it, or lose the ability to use my left wrist altogether. At which point the insurance company she represents will have spent thousands of dollars on treatments and surgeries for nothing. We'll see how long she has a job if that happens!
Just needed to vent.
I don't actually have a lot to say. It's just that in high school I had a couple of close friends, and was friendly with several other people. However, I didn't hang out with many of them. I knew going in last night that those closest to me wouldn't be there, and so I felt ambivalent about attending. Sure, there were people I was curious about. But I thought I would be in the position of being the outsider for most of the evening, having never really belonged to any of their cliques. To a certain extent that was true initially. But as the evening wore on and we all relaxed, I found myself talking with people I had barely known, or speaking more in-depth for the first time with those with whom I had been acquainted. I learned something interesting: most of us felt like outsiders without a "clique" to call our own. We all just assumed that the other was an insider in a certain group, without ever actually establishing that fact. It turned out that I wasn't the only one with trepidations about attending for that reason. Who will I talk to? Nobody will really care about me! But we were wrong. Everyone was curious and interested in each other, whether we had hung out back then or not. It's fun to get together with people who knew us before our characters were set in stone, who remember a time when we could let go and have fun and not worry about paying the bills. It's also fascinating to get other people's perspective on that time period. Assumptions were blown out the window and I think many of us were pleasantly surprised by what was left in their wake. I feel far more comfortable now with my classmates than I ever did before. Part of that is due to my own increased self-confidence, and part of it is from what I learned last night.
I'm so glad I decided to take the chance and go to my reunion!
I've had a busy couple of days. Yesterday I had the pin taken out of my wrist and began physical therapy. It didn't really hurt much when he pulled the pin; it just felt like my wrist was cramping for a few minutes afterwards. The pt was the hard part, and will continue to be I think. Without the cast on to limit motion, my wrist keeps trying to move in directions that it can't physically go yet. The therapist evaluated my condition and gave me (painful) exercises that I have to do 5-10 times every waking hour in an attempt to regain range of motion. I also have to go in to see her 3 times a week to start. I know it will be worth it in the end though, and am willing to do almost anything it takes. There's one exception: I am going to wear my splint when I go to bed. I'm supposed to wear it this week while weaning myself from it. One time the doctor told me he wanted me to take it off however was at night in bed. I tried that last night, and I won't repeat it. With nothing to protect my wrist or keep it from twisting and turning, I was awakened by sharp pain frequently. Sometimes all it took was for my husband to roll over on his side of the bed. The bouncing of the mattress would shift my wrist slightly and instantly awaken me. Forget it! Me without sleep is an ugly thing, and I don't just mean appearances!
On another note, I'll just briefly mention that I went to my 15 year high school reunion tonight, which I helped organize. From that perspective I'm glad it's behind me. But it turned out to be a wonderful night, which I'll write more about later. I came away with some new insights, and a good time was had by all. :0)
This morning I dreamt that my father hadn't really died. He had faked his death so that he could take care of some final things secretly before his real death. I discovered him as he was finishing up. I almost collapsed from the shock when I saw him, and started sobbing. He gathered me in his arms and tried to comfort me. I told him how much I loved him, how much I had missed him and how much I still wanted to say and share. He told me that he loved me and that he was sorry that he had to go. He put off his departure until I had said all that I needed to, and he had told me all the things I needed to hear. I finally found the strength to pull myself together, to claim an inner calm, and say good-bye. His leave-taking was as gentle and regretful as it was inevitable. He finally turned and walked through the door, and this time I knew it was forever.
I'm crying even as I write this, so many hours later. I feel as though I was visited. I believe I was.
I finally managed to finish reading this novel by Meghan Daum. I had to slog through 2/3 of dross to find the gold. It wasn't until then that I finally started to warm to the main character. In the end I'm not sorry that I read the book; I liked it well enough. However this is not slated to become a perennial favorite, as other books have.
I helped my mother surprise the kids this morning. She secretly bought a '98 Saab 900SE Turbo convertible that they were really hoping she'd get. I picked her up and brought her to the dealership so she could bring it home. It was worth getting up early on a Saturday to see the looks on the kids' faces when they saw what was sitting in their driveway! Of course, the rest of the day was taken up with driving around and showing it off. What I especially love about the whole thing is the way it brings out Mom's sporty impractical side. I knew she had it (I remember from when I was a kid) but the kids are so much younger that they have only ever seen her in adult, "Mom" mode. Too cool to see her rediscovering these dormant aspects of her personality!
I have just finished this novel by Carolyn Parkhurst and am still assimilating. Having just completed a murder mystery prior to purchasing this book, I misinterpreted the synopsis on the back of this one. I thought I would be reading another murder mystery. While a woman was dead and there was a mystery surrounding the circumstances, at no time was it murder.
This was the story of a man who suddenly loses his wife. The only witness to her last moments is their dog, Lorelei, who of course cannot speak. In his grief and sorrow, Paul becomes obsessed with the idea of teaching Lorelei to speak or to type. This desperate need to unravel the mystery of his wife's death leads to Paul to endanger all that he has left to him.
Sad, poignant and sometimes extremely frustrating, still this was an excellent story. It was occasionally difficult for me to read, especially as it progressed, dealing as it did with mental illness and death. It struck too close to home with one of my own losses this year, and I think for me that is where the frustration came in. Other readers might well have a different reaction to events as they unfold. This was a beautiful love story, not the least of which was Lorelei's love for her humans. I would recommend this one.