Child Birth

So...I went to my appointment with Dr. Park, who wins the "Office Most like a Beverly Hills Plastic Surgery Center in the High Desert" award. Dr. Park was very nice, but since I've had to explain to about ten different doctors my problems, I've fallen down on the job and forgot crucial elements of the "I am stinking miserable please help me" story. (MRI, the fact that I took Gabarpentin, etc.) Anyhoos, after pushing on my spine, butt (yeah, that's right, if it hadn't have hurt, I might have like it), and hip he said, "Let me tell you what's wrong with you." I said, "Please, finally can someone tell me..." And Dr. Park had his script, which, as a 35 year old female involved me having some babies. He said, "And so when you had kids..." I said, "I don't have kids." You could literally see his brain come to a full stop and try to process this information and work it into his script. "Have you ever been pregnant?" I said, "No." Again, you could see his brain working this information, then he recovered to tell me that I need five shots. Three in my spine, one in my hip and one in my buttocks to relieve the muscle that is not happy. I left with some samples of Lyrica, which my mother tells me I can not drink and take. "Not at all, at all," is what she said. So I've not taken any Lyrica, because I'm not ready to give up wine for medicine that I'm feeling less than optimistic about.

All of which brings us to today and me. I hurt. I hurt a lot. And yesterday I hurt. If I could have stayed in bed with Earl acting as my heat pad all day I would have. I could hardly stand up to take a shower. And so I walked around all today obviously miserable based on the number of comments from people who saw me walking around. I sat and had kids pass me papers that were two steps away. I stayed in offices long past my welcome just because I didn't want to get up. Which brought me to Alice, Debbie and Peggy (PDub's namesake who will be jumping off the unemployed list back to the employed list as of next week.) I told Peg about my aliments and my non-child birthing problem. I said, "Could I have had kids and not known about it?! How many kids do I have?" Alice pointed out that they could be in my classes. I am overwhelmed by this possibilty.

This could be the biggest tragedy in my life so far. I have a condition caused in part by child birth YET, I have no children. I have no one to do the dishes, or pick up in the yard or take care of me when I'm drooling. My mom missed out on making baby clothes. And as Peg pointed out, I don't even remember the sex that got me the kids. (For the record, it was surely the best sex ever.)

This child birthing business has been all pain and no gain for me. Starting tomorrow I am going to start looking for my children. (That is, after the Grand Opening and Ribbon Cutting Ceremony of the F-3 Computer Lab at 2:10 pm with Prizes. No Food or Drink-It's a Lab.)

Success

The Big Guy reported that his "How to Pick a Winning Jury" presentation went fabulous and that everyone was impressed with the Powerpoint. And that he gave me credit. I will add it poste haste to my résumé.

Someone chewed up my yellow highlighter. A cursory inspection of the buccal cavity of all canines at the Shelter revealed no yellow marks. Note: Sarah would not open her mouth without her lawyer present. After a weekend of TV, first I tried good cop, "Sarah, I understand your reluctance. This is routine, we just need to look in your mouth to exclude you as a possible suspect." She held her stance. Then I tried bad cop "Open your damned mouth!! You think you're the only one we've hauled in here!? You think the chewing up of a highlighter is something to joke about? This is someone's livelihood! A highlighter has been ruined! I'll keep you here indefinitely. You think anyone's going to believe you're innocent after the mattress incident? What? Like that wasn't you either? Yeah, prove it by opening your mouth! WHAT DO YOU KNOW!? " Then I made like I was gonna slam her head on the table. (Nah, I didn't really, that's just what they do as bad cop.) I may need to invest in one of those fancy light machines Nick Stokes has so I can see things that the normal eye can not. Now I have to get a new highlighter because I take my school supplies very seriously.

Weekend Update

• Black Cat has returned! And apparently rearranged the duck food for better access to the mice that live around it. S/he left once Randi and Earl started their early morning NASCAR qualifying races around half dead trees in the Backyard. Because I am a thorough investigator and the mattress defacing is still officially unsolved, I checked that all the screens and windows on that side of the house were intact in case Black Cat was the one who broke in with intent to mischief. Though I don't have paw print photos, it seems unlikely that Black Cat opened a window and committed the crime, which is good news because Black Cat in the house would mean a trip to the emergency room for a breathing treatment and a week of Prednisone for me.
  

• EDub pulled out her feathers to make way for the most amazing plumage. She is a cumulus cloud with pattes.
  

• Randi broke her own record of 'asleep to most annoying dog' ever this morning. Previous record (set yesterday): .053 seconds; this morning: .023 seconds. My patience has reacted equally.

• The frequency in which I find myself yelling, "Stop licking his wienie!" has become alarming.

Helpful Advice

This article may come in handy if I think the Pack is planning a keg party.

Forensics

This morning I discovered that someone ripped a hole in the mattress on the spare bed. My immediate reaction was anger so intense that I had to just cover it up and walk out of the room less I become a front page headline in the Daily Press "AV Woman Arrested for Animal Abuse." The size of the hole clearly excludes Randi and Earl as possible culprits because I'm pretty sure their gigantic paws could not have made anything so small and precise. I took forensic paw pictures and checked for mattress fibers on everyone. The fiber search was inconclusive. The paw length more revealing. I think it was Sarah because she is the one who spends the most time in that room and has the paw that most closely matches the size of the hole. Motive? I haven't figured that out yet. She's never done anything like this before.

Hole aprox. 2" in diameter

Clark 2.5" paw length

Sarah 2" paw length

Randi 3.25" paw length

Earl 3.5" paw length

PDub goes punk.

Raphael, comment tu dis....?

Subtitled: I am the worst translator in the world and I don't care

Today a student said, "Mlle, how do you say, you know that thing you throw in the water if someone is drowning?" To which my mind said "File not found." I didn't even know the word in English to look up. Sometimes I feel like, ooh, I should know that word or ooh, I used to know that word or ooh I'm just gonna make it up and you'll never even know. It's rare that I'm like, huh, no freaking idea, kid. So then I said, "Pas de problème, Ms. Peratt has a boat, I'll go ask her." I marched myself into Gretchen's room and said, "Uh, you know that thing you throw in the water to save someone..." Gretchen, only mildly annoyed that I interrupted her frantic trying to decorate the classroom to win the Bell Week classroom decoration contest, said "A life preserver?" Which then I dutiful went back to look up in mon cher ami le gros dictionnaire. (une bouée de sauvetage, in case you didn't know either.) Qui est la fucking prof? Moi. Because only I can use the gros dictionnaire with any accuracy.

Said exchange prompted Gretchen and Jenny to walk into my room at various random intervals holding various obvious objects like scissors and cups, which then prompted me to use the gros dictionnaire for cover to show them the international sign for 'fuck off.' Only a monolingual would not understand circumlocution, the act of describing something because you don't know the stinking word, which is how I spent most of my French life asking my exchange partner's boyfriend, "Raphael, comment tu dis..."

But seriously, I am the worst translator in the world. I hate translating. I hate when I have to find the English word because half of the time in class I have to say, "uh, you know, like when, uh..." and the picture is so clear in my head, but the word doesn't come and then a kid says, "Blah, blah, " and I say, yeah, that's it. It's like the English words and French words are not connected. The files are corrupted and then I just look like I don't know any English at all. I am literally bilingual, because I speak one half of English and one of French. And I so don't care.

Butter- The Gateway Dairy Product

Earl has moved onto sour cream. I hope he does not begin knocking over small children in the hopes that they have some sour cream in their possession.

Randi watched Earl and Clark (WTF?) play for at least two minutes. She did not budge from her "I am the most neglected and underappreciated dog in all the world" position on the couch. Something is obviously terribly wrong.

Voici ma vie à moi.

Feathers

EDub has been pulling out her feathers. I think it's her because she and PDub have not been having an UFC matches lately; that I've seen anyways. Neither of them are nesting, so they are BFFs. (Apparently nesting makes one quite irritable. I guess I'd be irritable if all I could do was sit in the dirt as well.) In any case, her wing looks raw, like she has had a cheap Supercuts haircut. I don't know what this means and since I don't have lunch with Stephen any more, I don't have daily access to the Stephen Internal Duck Encyclopedia and he hasn't made an iPhone app yet. (I do have lunch daily with Jenny, but she and Gretchen are markedly less interested in my animals.) Saturday I raked up enough feathers to make a pillow. I refrained, though, because they were mostly caked with duck shit.

I haven't seen Black Cat around lately. S/he was making a nightly appearance. (I never saw it, but based on the Pack's insistence to jump at the windows and the cat sounds, I figured it was Black Cat.) I also haven't seen many mice, but I hope Black Cat come back and eats the two I did see.


I am so excited about this coming week I can hardly stand myself. Nearly every one of my favorite shows has its season premier!!! CSI, CSI: New York, NCIS, NCIS: LA (aka, NCIS: Eye Candy.) Next week, I won't have to watch Bridezillas on Sunday; I can catch up on all my favorite shows while I plan. Because honestly, if I don't have something to watch while I plan I get grumpy. I get resentful and start hating French words. Particularly the verbs. And particularly the passé composé. And then I start the downward spiral into "Ugh! How many more times am I going to have to teach the passé composé?" It's not a healthy place for me to go, because realistically, I haven't even taught the passé composé half as many times as I will in my career and then I want to start drinking at noon which means that I have to fight the desire to make most of examples for the passé composé devolve into elle a bu ...

Dante's Tenth Circle of Hell

Two weeks ago I got a referral to Dr. Loomba to go have "nerve root injections" to try to numb my spine. Today I got confirmation that my "referral" was approved- only it was to a Dr Park and for a "consult" visit only and the soonest I can go is in two weeks. Frustrated, I called Choice Medical to find out why my referral for nerve root injections turned into a consult with a different doctor. I was told to call my doctor to get "medical direction." I said, only mildly annoyed, that I didn't need medical "direction," I needed to know why Loomba is suddenly being spelled Park and an injection turned into a consult. The answer was pretty much that going directly to nerve root injections would be too efficient and so I now must go through at least two more referral processes before I could possibly get to nerve root injection. I responded by not crying and saying that I understood that I was in referral hell, to which the lady offered, "Yes, you are."

Truthiness

For those of you who have been watching the Colbert Report daily as you should, will have seen the stuffed "goose" that he had on September 13, 2010. This "goose" is the same "duck" that my cousin Sophia Rose gave me to take to France. The very same duck that spent a year in France sitting on a shelf and not drinking beer. It is the same "duck" that I put in the plastic bin when I first got PDub and EDub, so they would have a parental figure. Which if it is a more of a "goose" and less of a "duck" could explain some of their odd behavior.

EDub and PDub in their plastic bin when they were just baby ducks, aka ducklings.

Conversations I imagined I had today

Sarah: I'm sorry I peed on the floor.
Me: I know.
Sarah: And that I missed the new Deluxe Piddle Pad you put out for me to pee on.
Me: I know, you're Old Girl.
Sarah: Maybe you could start leaving the light on for me so I can see the Deluxe Piddle Pad.
Me: Ok.
Sarah: Also, I think I had an accident in the bedroom.
Me: Sigh, I know.

PDub and EDub: If you get the ladder, we'll just climb up and figure out what's wrong with the swamp cooler. Not like we're doing anything else.
Me: Great idea guys!

Earl: More Bridezillas? Really? Can't we watch something else?
Me: There's nothing else on.
Earl: But we've been watching it for five hours. It's making me feel jaded and depressed.
Me: I'll turn it off when I'm done planning.
Earl: Maybe you should learn to plan without watching this nonsense.
Me: Maybe you should learn French and how to type.
Earl: Um, I've got, uh, something to do outside. Door open, please.
(later)
Earl: Teeheehee, dude, Bridezillas is the best show, like, ever. I'm sooo thirsty.

Me: How should I introduce the -ir verbes because I'm having a complete lack of imagination.
Randi: Which ones?
Me: finir, grossir, maigrir, etc.
Randi: Oh, no idea. I was thinking about partir, dormir, servir and sortir. I had a bitchin' idea for those ones.

Me: Clark, what are you doing?
Clark: I put myself to bed because I couldn't watch any more Bridezillas and you told me to go away.
Me: Because licking me while I'm trying to do sit-ups is annoying as hell. You know I hate that.
Clark: Well, also, I'm tired.

Randi: Yes, uh, excuse me-I think I may have sliced my tongue licking the cheese off of the cheese grater in the dishwasher.

dictionary.com

Unadoption (n.) an irreversible and untreatable condition characterized by persistent dopiness and licking, bad behavior and the non discriminatory watching of unwatchable television.

Faithful Place- Ebook Review

Good news: EDub is back to running around with only a mild limp and I can swallow after only one day of antibiotics and I don't have a fever anymore. Thank goodness.


Faithful Place is by far my favorite Tana French novel. First, Frank Mackey, the detective who is drug back to his family after they find a body, uses the expression sweet fuck-all at least every other page. This must be some Irish thing, but I may start using it because I like it so much. The book was definitely more of a page turner than the other two. At least once, I said, I can't go to sleep now and read several more pages. I think reviewing a book is a delicate balance of several high quality questions. Did it put me to sleep? No. Would I put this in the best book I ever read category? No. Did it change my life? No. Was I so excited I didn't sleep because I had to keep reading? No. Did I feel like it challenged my thinking or made me thing about deep issues? No. Was I upset, angry or wanting to throw the book at any point? No.

But I liked it. I kept reading it. I would read the author again. Like when I rate wines in my wine app that I would buy again, but aren't memorable for any particular reason, it gets a 7/10.

Oh woe is me because I'm in a bit of book doldrums right now...I don't know what to read and nothing looks interesting. I've read my book club books for the next three months. I read all the books I was excited to read over the summer. I'm more interested in the franzenfreude than Freedom itself. I'm reluctant to read Mockingjay because I can't find anything that says it isn't science fiction and the cover definitely looks like science fiction. I'd like to read a French book, but the only things I have around here are the cast offs from literary classes of days gone by and lord knows those things can't be interesting because I didn't read them the first time. The only French books you can download from Amazon.com are the same literary masterpieces by the same dead Frenchmen. Amazon.fr and amazon.ca just send me back to amazon.com. And I can't figure out if the fnac.com will let me download. (Stupid fnac.com!) In short, I am whiny about having no books to read. Next I'm going to throw myself on the floor and scream until Randi and Earl steal me the next best book I ever read or they lick me so much I have to get back up. Whichever comes first.

Premonition

Me: Have you seen the cat?
Ducks:
Me: I just don't want to find half-eaten mice in the backyard is all.
Ducks:
Me: Yep, just like that one on the grass. Thanks, guys.

Hearing Aids

I have discovered a definite disadvantage to riding with my retired bike boyfriends: hearing. I knew Gene had some hearing issues because a typical conversation with him goes

Me: Did you get your truck fixed?
Gene: HUH?

Today we were bike riding and I heard a rattlesnake. I immediately jumped off the bike and started screaming, "Where is it?! Where is it?!" because it was loud and so I assumed that it was very close by. Gene said, "HUH?" I yelled, "THE SNAKE?? WHERE IS IT??" It was in a bush about four feet off the trail, curled up and pissed the fuck off. I kept screaming, but Gene wanted to look at it. Then I yelled, "MOVE!" because I was unwilling to stand four feet away from the pissed off snake. Everyone else came back to look at the Mojave Green. These guys, while very helpful when I need a tube changed, not so very useful if a snake starts rattling. Bill said he thought it was someone's breaks. They never see or hear the snakes. I think it's because they are not vigilant. I am vigilant. I am constantly scanning the trail and off of the trail to see if there is anything moving. I do not want to be caught unaware.

This was made even more upsetting because only five minutes before a guy who was hiking walked up to me and showed me the rattlesnake that he had trapped on his fucking walking stick. I screamed, "I don't want to see it!" and he came closer to tell me more about it. Sooooooo not cool.

Then I came home to find a new member of the Saratoga Animal Shelter.
A close look at the body language of Black Cat will clearly indicate that s/he is completely comfortable underneath the getto half dead tree next to the abandoned duck nests. S/he is not just visiting for a few minutes. S/he has set up camp. My exact thoughts were "What the fuck?? Oh God, where are the ducks?"

Having discovered them not dead via feline mischief, I took pictures and told the cat, "Are you here to eat mice? Because if you are you can stay."

Do not be afraid that I will suddenly be adopting cats, because that would be the death of me. If you wanted to kill me it would be simply a matter of placing a cat on my pillow and hiding my inhaler. I would rather smoke 10 packets of cigarettes and live in house that pumped in smog, than with a cat. As long as Black Cat stays outside, eats mice, leaves the ducks alone then Black Cat can stay. As a side note, I did not see any mice yesterday.

Somehow, I think this development will not be quite so idyllic.

Des Photos

My Boys

(Sarah refused to sit for the photo shoot.)

Bullshit

I'm calling bullshit with two hands, two feet, four duck pattes, and sixteen dog legs, because Bill called me today to tell me that Don with the Brick Driveway broke his finger on the bike ride and Pat, the firefighter and the only other non-retired member of the bike boyfriends, called 911 because he was afraid Don with the Brick Driveway would faint and the firemen showed up on the dirt road in the middle of the fucking desert. I said, "Bullshit! Why couldn't one of you get hurt when I was there to see the hot firefighters! Nobody thinks about me!!" Bill said it was because he was afraid I would tell him to break my fingers just so I could get some firefighter attention. Maybe. Maybe it might have been worth it.

EBook, e-book, eBook or e-Book

I don't want to talk about this week. It's been ridiculous. I think I saw a mouse in the house. Unbeknownst to me the Big Guy turned off the water at the facet, so while the Pack's water normally refills itself, it had not been. Lucky for me I was like, huh, I'll fill this up and noticed otherwise I would have been complete oblivious for days and come home to four severely dehydrated dogs, which made me cry this morning. PDub has abandoned her nest and EDub is only midly limping around. I wish they'd lay some more eggs, but then I heard on NPR that some of this salmonella egg problem might be caused from mouse droppings and I gots me some mice outside by the ducks. The orthopedic doctor says I am going to have some shots in my spine to numb it or do something. I was too mad that my appointment was at 8:00am and I didn't see him until 9:20 to really ask any intelligent questions. I'm having some anger issues.