Thank goodness for Tostitos, I may just write them a letter about how they saved my relationship since I can't jump on FB and "fan" their page (if I haven't already, I do have love for chips so this could already be taken care of). Tonight, I sweetened the deal one more notch by following the chip with a baby carrot after "scarydrops time." If this keeps up, by the time the 10 days of dosing are over, I'll be serving TW a 9 course meal culminating in an ice cream parfait for dessert. I think we're both looking forward to that. Who doesn't love a parfait?
Rudy's didn't happen tonight, plans fell through so I still haven't been able to drink ginger ale in a bar while trying to act drunk. I've been practicing at home though, I think it's going to go pretty well when I get to take it out in public. I'm naturally good at going on meandering tangents and falling into things, so putting a glass in my hand is really the only adjustment I'll be making. Still, I'm good at it.
I like that doing this motivates me to sit down and write(type). I always wanted to end up being a writer (in life) in some sense. Penning the great American novel or traveling and reporting on my experiences with the cheeses of the world...I enjoy organizing what's in my head into thoughtful patterns, but find that I lack the drive to do it consistently. It's like writer's mule, rather than block. The words are stubborn and need proper inspiration to pour out. So this bloggity is like my writer's mule's hint of jalapeño Tostito chip, if my mule was a rabbit, specifically my rabbit, and words were like climbing a canyon, or some such thing a mule would do.
Right?
Wow, I sound drunk...I told you I was good at it.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Day 6 - 2012
I had 2 photo shoots to tend today, so I was on my feet and my mind was occupied for most of the 14 hours between leaving and coming back home. The distraction was pretty much a blessing. Though my feet hurt and my eyes are burning, I'm getting better all the time...wanted a beer pretty bad after we wrapped, but I came home and had a diet Dr. Pepper instead (further perpetuating my "old lady" status). Caffeine and carbs have come back into my life with a vengeance, so at least that un-zombie'd me some. I never thought I'd be so excited to see a bagel on the catering table (<-- that's a lie). Didn't really feel like telling anyone I saw today about the TW situation, but I talked to my mom tonight and told her. I don't know if I was being strong for me or her, but I made it through the story without falling apart, so that's progress.
I pulled a muscle crying last night. Never felt anything like that before, didn't even know it happened until the deep breaths I was trying to take started making the top of my ribs ache. The hurt has dulled now, in almost every sense.
Trying to look on the positive side, I know there's nothing to be gained from looking any other way. Being realistic and optimistic seem like they can be negotiated, guess I have to find the balance.
Just had to give TW her drops, and either I've figured out her kryptonite or she's figured out mine. The antibiotics in her eyes she's fine with, but last night after I sat her up so I could put them on her tummy, she cowered in her cage for the rest of the night when I let her go. That made me upset(er) so tonight I tried to soften the blow with one of her personal favorites- a hint of jalepeño flavored Tostito chip. After I put the drops on her tummy she ran into her cage again, but this time I popped my hand in right after her, holding out a chip. Instead of cowering, she pulled it right out of my fingers and devoured it without any sense of shame or fear. Not sure who's happier about this discovery, but it's nice to wonder about a different emotion.
I pulled a muscle crying last night. Never felt anything like that before, didn't even know it happened until the deep breaths I was trying to take started making the top of my ribs ache. The hurt has dulled now, in almost every sense.
Trying to look on the positive side, I know there's nothing to be gained from looking any other way. Being realistic and optimistic seem like they can be negotiated, guess I have to find the balance.
Just had to give TW her drops, and either I've figured out her kryptonite or she's figured out mine. The antibiotics in her eyes she's fine with, but last night after I sat her up so I could put them on her tummy, she cowered in her cage for the rest of the night when I let her go. That made me upset(er) so tonight I tried to soften the blow with one of her personal favorites- a hint of jalepeño flavored Tostito chip. After I put the drops on her tummy she ran into her cage again, but this time I popped my hand in right after her, holding out a chip. Instead of cowering, she pulled it right out of my fingers and devoured it without any sense of shame or fear. Not sure who's happier about this discovery, but it's nice to wonder about a different emotion.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Day 5 - 2012 again
Update: It's a tumor, not a cyst.
She's eating, drinking and acting normally though. I wrapped a towel around the cage door she hops in/out of so that she doesn't bump into any rough edges. If the size or bleeding (there was some spotting near it) get worse, I'll have to consider having it removed. Since she's so old, putting her under sedation poses a risk. There's also a chance the vet will find more tumors when he removes this one because it's near her mammary glands, and sometimes when one manifests in that area there are more inside. For now though, I just need to keep an eye on the size of it, mix omega fatty acid + vitamins into her food, and treat the area with antibiotics.
I'm calm and collected(ish) now. A few hours ago when the vet said the word "tumor" though, I think I invented/discovered projectile crying. I had my glasses on, and when I took them off later to clean the lenses, tears were sprayed all over the inside. He was so startled when it happened that before realizing what he was saying next, he offered to take me to a movie to get my mind off the situation. In any other moment it would seem like harassment, but I'm pretty sure that's probably just what he tells his kids when he wants them to stop crying like little b**ches
$135 for exam, antibiotics, and food supplements...the surgery would be $400-500 if the tumor changes and I want to have it removed. On the one hand- I appreciate that I'm at a place in my life where I can make this financial decision because that kind of money is in the bank, on the other- I don't want to make that f**king decision.
I'm okay mulling it over now, but any time I think about telling someone I get all torn up again. I talked to a couple friends, and I know I should call my parents to tell them, but I can't bear to keep repeating the story. I guess this has made me consider my stance on sharing really personal things via media...at least then you only have to say it once.
She's eating, drinking and acting normally though. I wrapped a towel around the cage door she hops in/out of so that she doesn't bump into any rough edges. If the size or bleeding (there was some spotting near it) get worse, I'll have to consider having it removed. Since she's so old, putting her under sedation poses a risk. There's also a chance the vet will find more tumors when he removes this one because it's near her mammary glands, and sometimes when one manifests in that area there are more inside. For now though, I just need to keep an eye on the size of it, mix omega fatty acid + vitamins into her food, and treat the area with antibiotics.
I'm calm and collected(ish) now. A few hours ago when the vet said the word "tumor" though, I think I invented/discovered projectile crying. I had my glasses on, and when I took them off later to clean the lenses, tears were sprayed all over the inside. He was so startled when it happened that before realizing what he was saying next, he offered to take me to a movie to get my mind off the situation. In any other moment it would seem like harassment, but I'm pretty sure that's probably just what he tells his kids when he wants them to stop crying like little b**ches
$135 for exam, antibiotics, and food supplements...the surgery would be $400-500 if the tumor changes and I want to have it removed. On the one hand- I appreciate that I'm at a place in my life where I can make this financial decision because that kind of money is in the bank, on the other- I don't want to make that f**king decision.
I'm okay mulling it over now, but any time I think about telling someone I get all torn up again. I talked to a couple friends, and I know I should call my parents to tell them, but I can't bear to keep repeating the story. I guess this has made me consider my stance on sharing really personal things via media...at least then you only have to say it once.
Day 5 - 2012
Feeling a little run-down...Life without cheeseburgers is sort of devoid of excitement, or maybe just energy. This "cleanse" has at least made me look at all the food labels that have come into my life in the past few days though. There were a few nice surprises-- like my orange juice only has oranges in it, and the organic peanut butter in my cupboard only has peanuts in it (even though the oil separating kinda grosses me out). So many things had salt added though, that was kinda eye-opening.
Day 2 I was legit space-cadet. I think the cheese and sugar withdrawals were manifesting themselves in my complete lack of focus. That was weird but eventually passed.
Day 3 I started off okay, but by the afternoon I got mega-hangry and would have sacrificed my own mother for a basked of french fries covered in cheese and ranch dressing. But I persevered, perhaps at the expense of my coworkers who experienced the extent of my wrath, but only until it was time to eat my pineapple snack. After that I un-Hulked back into my ripped up t-shirt and acted mostly civil again.
I saw Philip Glass and Patti Smith at the Park Avenue Armory that night, and the experience washed whatever animosity that was left in me far far away. It's an awesome space, like none I've been in before. Check out the site but this blurb helps paint the picture: "The Armory’s 55,000 square foot drill hall, reminiscent of the original Grand Central Depot and the great train sheds of Europe, remains one of the largest unobstructed spaces of its kind in New York." I purchased general admission tickets, so my friend, Matt, and I sat on cushions on the floor right next to the stage (which was level with the floor). So neat.
The theme was a tribute to Alan Ginsberg, so the bulk of the night Patti read selections of his work while Philip accompanied her on the piano. There was also a solo by Philip, and Patti had a couple band members join her to jam for few songs as well. All along, huge projections of photos behind them cycled through moments in Alan Ginsberg's life. Having recently read "Just Kids," it was really special to me to experience Patti live. This year marks Philip's 75th birthday, so to see and hear him play was a surreal treat as well. Matt and I wandered around after that, hitting up the views from the East River then a diner on 1st Avenue to have coffay and gossip, like the old friends we are.
Day 4 was relatively lazy/productive in that I cleaned my house and chased the rabbit around the house between naps. No more lack of focus or focus of anger, just generally chill and relaxed. I am also getting really good a seasoning baked potatoes, lemon juice and pepper are my favorites so far. Bacon, sour cream and cheese are sorely missed though... (the fat kid in me is struggling pretty hard to get out, I think it just punched me in the kidneys when I typed "bacon")
So here I am at Day 5. I think this will be the last day of the "cleanse." I'm glad I did it, I do feel like it's been good for my body/health and hopefully the attention to food labels as well as abbreviated seasoning are things I'll take with me to make better choices. I've also grown appreciative of decaffeinated tea in all its varied flavors and scents. I sometimes quote a friend and call decaf anything "a cup of nonsense," but even without the jolt of caffeine a hot cuppa can be very comforting. Wow, I sound like an old lady. Ah well, I sorta am.
I haven't had to address the no booze yet, it hasn't really been missed. I have a date with some friends to go to Rudy's (home of the free hotdogs and cheap pitchers o' beer) on Tuesday though, so I'll report back on that.
On another note, as I write this, I'm waiting for the vet to open at noon so that I can see if TW and I can get in today. Last night I was aggressively grooming her and I found a pretty angry looking sore (cyst maybe?) on her tummy. From my exhaustive googling and reading of bunny blawgs, it sounds like they can just drain it and she'll be okay. Her eating and being an a**hole habits haven't changed, so hopefully this is on the surface and there's nothing bad going on inside.
Ya know, every time I tell people I have a rabbit, or people want to know how she is, they inevitably ask "how long do rabbits live?" I know it's not a mean question, just curiosity because she's technically an exotic (non dog or cat) pet and I've had her for as long as some people have known me (she'll be 9 this year). I used to go through a song and dance about what I've researched and tell an anecdote about a lady I met on a plane that had a rabbit that lived 'til it was 12. Now I just say "I guess I'll find out." I don't like to think about it, and with her being 9 soon the reality is I'll probably find out the answer sometime in the next few years.
So, a disturbing place my mind went when I found the cyst last night and was forced to think about it (after I cried for awhile and then pulled it together enough to google the shizz out of bunny message boards), was contemplating how to tell people if something were to happen to TW. I guess it's natural and I'm a planner by default, but that I had to think about how I'm supposed to communicate with the people who care about me was a strange realization.
Made me remember a convo Matt and while we were gossiping at the diner the other night. We talked about how when people post really personal things on FB (sickness, death in the family, etc), that it is sometimes hard to gauge how to reach out to them. He maintains that it's simple-- call them, don't comment or message or text. If that person is really your friend, then there's never a bad time to pick up your phone and use it as an actual phone. I agree, but right off the bat it didn't occur to me how easy that is.
Funny how social networking can sometimes muddle how you relay a message instead of making it easier...
Day 2 I was legit space-cadet. I think the cheese and sugar withdrawals were manifesting themselves in my complete lack of focus. That was weird but eventually passed.
Day 3 I started off okay, but by the afternoon I got mega-hangry and would have sacrificed my own mother for a basked of french fries covered in cheese and ranch dressing. But I persevered, perhaps at the expense of my coworkers who experienced the extent of my wrath, but only until it was time to eat my pineapple snack. After that I un-Hulked back into my ripped up t-shirt and acted mostly civil again.
I saw Philip Glass and Patti Smith at the Park Avenue Armory that night, and the experience washed whatever animosity that was left in me far far away. It's an awesome space, like none I've been in before. Check out the site but this blurb helps paint the picture: "The Armory’s 55,000 square foot drill hall, reminiscent of the original Grand Central Depot and the great train sheds of Europe, remains one of the largest unobstructed spaces of its kind in New York." I purchased general admission tickets, so my friend, Matt, and I sat on cushions on the floor right next to the stage (which was level with the floor). So neat.
The theme was a tribute to Alan Ginsberg, so the bulk of the night Patti read selections of his work while Philip accompanied her on the piano. There was also a solo by Philip, and Patti had a couple band members join her to jam for few songs as well. All along, huge projections of photos behind them cycled through moments in Alan Ginsberg's life. Having recently read "Just Kids," it was really special to me to experience Patti live. This year marks Philip's 75th birthday, so to see and hear him play was a surreal treat as well. Matt and I wandered around after that, hitting up the views from the East River then a diner on 1st Avenue to have coffay and gossip, like the old friends we are.
Day 4 was relatively lazy/productive in that I cleaned my house and chased the rabbit around the house between naps. No more lack of focus or focus of anger, just generally chill and relaxed. I am also getting really good a seasoning baked potatoes, lemon juice and pepper are my favorites so far. Bacon, sour cream and cheese are sorely missed though... (the fat kid in me is struggling pretty hard to get out, I think it just punched me in the kidneys when I typed "bacon")
So here I am at Day 5. I think this will be the last day of the "cleanse." I'm glad I did it, I do feel like it's been good for my body/health and hopefully the attention to food labels as well as abbreviated seasoning are things I'll take with me to make better choices. I've also grown appreciative of decaffeinated tea in all its varied flavors and scents. I sometimes quote a friend and call decaf anything "a cup of nonsense," but even without the jolt of caffeine a hot cuppa can be very comforting. Wow, I sound like an old lady. Ah well, I sorta am.
I haven't had to address the no booze yet, it hasn't really been missed. I have a date with some friends to go to Rudy's (home of the free hotdogs and cheap pitchers o' beer) on Tuesday though, so I'll report back on that.
On another note, as I write this, I'm waiting for the vet to open at noon so that I can see if TW and I can get in today. Last night I was aggressively grooming her and I found a pretty angry looking sore (cyst maybe?) on her tummy. From my exhaustive googling and reading of bunny blawgs, it sounds like they can just drain it and she'll be okay. Her eating and being an a**hole habits haven't changed, so hopefully this is on the surface and there's nothing bad going on inside.
Ya know, every time I tell people I have a rabbit, or people want to know how she is, they inevitably ask "how long do rabbits live?" I know it's not a mean question, just curiosity because she's technically an exotic (non dog or cat) pet and I've had her for as long as some people have known me (she'll be 9 this year). I used to go through a song and dance about what I've researched and tell an anecdote about a lady I met on a plane that had a rabbit that lived 'til it was 12. Now I just say "I guess I'll find out." I don't like to think about it, and with her being 9 soon the reality is I'll probably find out the answer sometime in the next few years.
So, a disturbing place my mind went when I found the cyst last night and was forced to think about it (after I cried for awhile and then pulled it together enough to google the shizz out of bunny message boards), was contemplating how to tell people if something were to happen to TW. I guess it's natural and I'm a planner by default, but that I had to think about how I'm supposed to communicate with the people who care about me was a strange realization.
Made me remember a convo Matt and while we were gossiping at the diner the other night. We talked about how when people post really personal things on FB (sickness, death in the family, etc), that it is sometimes hard to gauge how to reach out to them. He maintains that it's simple-- call them, don't comment or message or text. If that person is really your friend, then there's never a bad time to pick up your phone and use it as an actual phone. I agree, but right off the bat it didn't occur to me how easy that is.
Funny how social networking can sometimes muddle how you relay a message instead of making it easier...
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Day 1 - 2012 again
So far so good, I made it through the day without checking FB or drinking booze.
AND to make this first leg of the journey extra super duper interesting, I decided to go on a self assigned and created cleanse for the next few days. I'm not doing the crazy cayenne pepper & lemonade sh*t your pants and be in the worst mood ever regimen, it's more of a fruit, vegetables, nuts and legumes situation. I just went to the food store (you know, the store with the food), got $40 worth of the above that I find tolerable (orange bell pepper, celery, carrots, pineapple, oranges, grapes, almonds & black beans), and chopped the heck out of it all so I can take snax to work tomorrow. I was going to have the black beans for dinner, but when I read the back of the bag I realized it would take FOREVER (like hours) and I'm supposed to do something like "soak" them first? Whatever. I was just going to go hungry until I found some potatoes in the fridge so those are baking, which also takes forever but does not require learning new skillz like "soaking."
Wow, if this was a FB status you wouldn't have had to read all of that mundane sh*t. It would have been crystallized into something like, "FML!!!"
But, just like when reading a personals ad, if you've gotten this far-- you must be interested. I'll try not to let you down. My life, uncut, comin' atcha for the next forty-something days...and I'll try to make it more interesting than my shopping list in the future.
You stay classy, Internetlandia, and thanks for stopping by.
AND to make this first leg of the journey extra super duper interesting, I decided to go on a self assigned and created cleanse for the next few days. I'm not doing the crazy cayenne pepper & lemonade sh*t your pants and be in the worst mood ever regimen, it's more of a fruit, vegetables, nuts and legumes situation. I just went to the food store (you know, the store with the food), got $40 worth of the above that I find tolerable (orange bell pepper, celery, carrots, pineapple, oranges, grapes, almonds & black beans), and chopped the heck out of it all so I can take snax to work tomorrow. I was going to have the black beans for dinner, but when I read the back of the bag I realized it would take FOREVER (like hours) and I'm supposed to do something like "soak" them first? Whatever. I was just going to go hungry until I found some potatoes in the fridge so those are baking, which also takes forever but does not require learning new skillz like "soaking."
Wow, if this was a FB status you wouldn't have had to read all of that mundane sh*t. It would have been crystallized into something like, "FML!!!"
But, just like when reading a personals ad, if you've gotten this far-- you must be interested. I'll try not to let you down. My life, uncut, comin' atcha for the next forty-something days...and I'll try to make it more interesting than my shopping list in the future.
You stay classy, Internetlandia, and thanks for stopping by.
Day 1 - 2012
I've been trying to decide if giving up the Faceplace even qualifies as a hardship anymore. Between Instagram, Twitter (which I have just plain given up on in general, but it's available to me), this blog, and sites like Pinterest, I hardly need it as a tool for communication. Now for stalking, there's nothing better, so I suppose I'll miss that...although does it even qualify as "stalking" if you're peering into the lives of your technical friends? I prefer to call it "aggressive interest." But I digress...so, kiddos-- I've decided that in order to make this season of Lent more interesting, I'm giving up booze too. Let the games begin.
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