a partial update

i say partial, cuz i cannot give a full update.  there are a few things in the works yet and i want to wait til i have definitive answers before i give details.  also, there's just so much stuff going on that i don't think i can purge in one post!

my guy has one week left of class and then finals.  yea!  this is the first weekend we've spent together that he didn't have a ton of stuff to do for school &/or work for months.

his vehicle is on its last legs and there may be a newer vehicle in his future.  my vehicle has problems with either the power steering or a tie-rod end.  either of which can cause the steering to become harder and jerkier when making turns at more than 75 degrees.  my guy was/is thinking of taking my car with him on monday, but i'm not sure if he will, cuz the steering is so difficult.

my friend whose father died earlier this year is experiencing a new batch of problems.  her father's pension is too much income for her mother to continue being covered by medicaid but not enough to cover her nursing home stay, where she's been since 99.  there are several possible solutions to check into, but the timing is very odd.  the nursing home wants my friend to set up a trust fund which would give the nursing home access to the funds, and allow her mother to be eligible for medicaid once again.  otherwise they release her TOMORROW.  no pressure, huh?  her mother is bed-ridden, non-communicative, with advanced stages of dementia and severe schizophrenia, with a feeding tube, and in need of 24 hr supervision.  home care is not a realistic option.  so, we'll see what happens.  i think at this point, she is likely to set up the trust fund, but i am not so sure that signing it over to the nursing home is the best idea.  neither of us know much about trust funds, and aren't too sure who to turn to for advice.  i would think a lawyer or bank official, but given the time frame for the whole mess, that might not be an option.

also, this same friend will have a check-up and her brain scanned again, to be sure that the brain tumor has not grown and her cancer has not come out of remission.  that is among the last things she would need to deal with at a time like this.  she just needs to catch a break somewhere along the way!!

i'm in the process of pleading forgiveness for my student loans.  it may occur.  but i'll feel tons better if i were to have the final document in my grubby lil hands.  i think it may involve my first-born (thus far, non-existant) child...

Whatta gift!

A few years back, my mother had come to my rescue, yet again.  On the TV, in the motel room, there was a daughter saying to her frustrated, wheel-chair bound mother, "don't you know what a gift you are?"  I had turned to my mom and said, "I'm such a gift."

We laughed, but there was a good point that had come to the surface.  It's the great people who reach out and assist those of us who get to be grateful.  Conversely, without those of us who are in need, others wouldn't have a chance to demonstrate their abilities to meet those needs.

Like the mother in the movie, there are times when we all could use a little help.  Like the daughter in the movie, there are times when we are happy to assist.  I've been in both positions.  Most everyone has.  I get more enjoyment when I assist someone else, than when I accept it myself.  Giving is truly a gift.

Talkin' 'bout my guy

I haven't been writing regularly, here in my online journal.  So, all the nitty gritty details of my life are not showcased.  Neither are some fairly large important ongoing themes discussed.

Well, let me take a step toward recitifying that!

My guy has been finishing year 2 in his PhD program.  I'm so very proud of him.  He is almost through with classes.  His first placement begins this summer.  His comprehensive exams are scheduled for August.  He is at a crucial stage in his schooling.

I know he is tired, frustrated, and overwhelmed.  He has every right to be.  He has been working and going to school non-stop for years now.  Situations that should not be occuring, are.  Situations that should be, aren't.  The red-tape is double-sided and stronger than duct-tape.

I haven't been as supportive this term as I usually am.  He needs me to be more supportive and I need to be more demonstrative in my support.  I love him so very much, it's time that I show that love is indeed a verb.

If you read this, sweetie, please know that I do love you, am very proud of you, and that I have tremendous confidence in you and your abilities.  You go, guy!!

Brain Game

Elementary, my dear, I deduced that this game is addictive.

Punny eMail

Let The Puns Begin:

 

Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love and got married. The ceremony wasn't much, but the reception  was excellent.

 

A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

 

Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a salted.

 

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

 

A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says: "A beer, please, and one for the road."

 

Two cows are standing next to each other in a field.  Daisy says to Dolly, "I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you," says Dolly. "It's true, no bull!"  exclaims Daisy.

 

An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either.

 

Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bull before.

 

I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day, but I couldn't find any.

 

I went to a seafood disco last week and pulled a mussel.

 

What do you call a fish with no eyes?  A fsh.

 

Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in the craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

 

A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse.  "But why," they asked, as they moved off. "Because", he said, "I can't stand chess-nuts boasting in an open foyer."

 

A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption.  One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Ahmal."  The other goes to a family in Spain; they name him "Juan." Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Ahmal.  Her husband responds, "They're twins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Ahmal."

 

Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath.  This made him, a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Cock-a-doodle-do, he crows

AN OLD FARMER WENT TO TOWN TO SEE A MOVIE.  HE TICKET AGENT ASKED, "SIR, WHAT'S THAT ON YOUR SHOULDER?"  THE OLD FARMER SAID, "Oh, THAT'S MY PET ROOSTER, CHUCKY. WHEREVER I GO,  CHUCKY GOES."  "I AM SORRY SIR," SAID THE TICKET AGENT. "WE CAN'T ALLOW ANIMALS IN THE THEATER."


THE OLD FARMER WENT AROUND THE CORNER AND STUFFED THE BIRD DOWN HIS OVERALLS. HE RETURNED TO THE BOOTH, BOUGHT A TICKET AND ENTERED THE THEATER. HE SAT DOWN NEXT TO TWO OLD WIDOWS NAMED MILDRED AND MARGE.  THE MOVIE STARTED AND THE ROOSTER BEGAN TO SQUIRM.  THE OLD FARMER UNBUTTONED HIS FLY SO CHUCKY COULD STICK HIS HEAD OUT AND WATCH THE MOVIE.
"MARGE," WHISPERED MILDRED.
"WHAT?" SAID MARGE.
"I THINK THE GUY NEXT TO ME IS A PERVERT."
"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK SO?" ASKED MARGE.
"HE UNDID HIS PANTS AND HE HAS HIS THING OUT," WHISPERED MILDRED.
"WELL, DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT," SAID MARGE.  "HELL, AT OUR AGE WE'VE SEEN 'EM ALL"
"I THOUGHT SO TOO," SAID MILDRED, "BUT THIS ONE'S EATIN' MY POPCORN!"

A Stash of tea

My tea has a prominent position of importance in my kitchen.  It occupies the entire counter that runs under my cupboards and is the first thing you see when you enter my home.  I have some of the odd and end bags sorted and arranged in one of the first baskets that my mother made for me.  The melon basket's peach and white reeds have faded slightly to a softer cream and lightly blushed comfortable possession.

I've boxes of bagged teas.  There are tins of loose teas.  I have herbal "teas" of all sorts of flavors.  I'm not particular about brands, sampling from here and there.

Years ago, my very first favorite tea as a child was nutmeg tea.  It came in a little white tin with black and brown print.  I loved watching my mother fill the stainless steel egg with the spiney black fragrant pieces and then she would pop it into the pot.  I always wanted to dunk it about and then after it had drained, I would screw it apart, and tamp the wet leaves which reminded me of my father filling his pipe with cherry tobacco.  I was rather surprised to find that the damp tea didn't taste remotely the way the cherry smoke smelled!!

Then for many years as a teen, Celestial Seasoning's "Sleepy Time" was a favorite.  I loved everything about it, right down to the comfy bear with the snoozing kitty.   Sometimes, I would place unused bags between my pillow and its case, just so I could inhale the scent deeply, holding it in my lungs, as I fell asleep.

Stash tea tickled my fancy as I left undergrad school in PA and moved to Portland, OR.  I read what I could and was enthralled with visiting the company.  Well, the idea appealled, but I never quite made it there for a tour.

Now, I always loiter in the tea section of the grocery.  Even though I have more tea than China (which is no mean feat, as I own very little China!), I still purchase the occassional box to add to my stock.  There are the old reliables to keep on hand.  Yet, some of the newer blends pique my senses.

Have a cuppa, sit back, and relax.

A motherlode

All hail the queen and her 99 "exact twins".

Buckingham Palace hosted a lovely luncheon for the Queen and her 99 guests who all share her birthday.  All 100 of them will be 80 on 21 April.  They came from Australia, New Zealand, and Canada to visit the mother-country for the event.

Most were surprised to find the Queen so different than they had thought.  She is a warm, genuine person who takes interest in folks, not just as her subjects, but as peers.  One woman affectionately says that the Queen is very small, just a slip of a thing.

The Queen gave heartfelt thanks for their company and wished them all a very happy birthday.

Miffed, Moussaoui 'mentally ill'

Ok, dudes.  sigh.  Let me vent here.

The BBC is covering the Moussaoui trial.  The aspect I want to focus on for a minute here, is the use of the idea of Mental Illness, the associations and connotations to the further perpetuation of stigma, and the defense's strategy.  "Defence lawyers are trying to persuade jurors to spare his life because there is evidence he is mentally ill."

First of all, I have mental illnesses and brain disorders.  However, I am responsible for all my actions, thoughts, and attitudes.  Society and certain individuals may influence my perceptions, but when it comes down to brass tacks, I blame no one else for any of my faults.

I am responsible for the consequences of my behavior.  This includes not only overt acts of commission, but also the consequences of non-behavior (omission).  For instance, if I realized that I couldn't keep a previous engagement, and didn't notify the person, then I acted irresponsibly by not picking up the friggen phone.

I understand that sometimes we are under the influence of chemical reactions, medications, etc.  However, we are not absolved of our responsibilities at such times.  I don't say, "well ya know, I couldn't help myself because I was impulsive due to mania, so I shouldn't be held accountable for..." the bills I ran up, or the case of STDs that I got, or whatever...

Those are minor things compared to what Moussaoui's defense team admits he's done.  They are not pleading that he didn't do those acts of atrocity.  What they are doing, is they are saying that he should not be held accountable for his behavior.

It angers me that the concept of being mentally ill should be invoked to excuse some one of something they are responsible for.  I am not to blame for having Bipolar, but I do take responsibility for my actions.  This holds true even when I am in the throes of acute mania.

Mental Illness, folks who deal with mental illness, and those who are mentally ill deal with negative assumptions from others on a regular basis.  Every time we as a group take steps forward on busting stigma, there is something which serves to be a reinforcer of incorrect assumptions.  He didn't do this because he was paranoid schizophrenic.  He didn't do itbecause he is mentally ill.  He did it because he didn't choose not to do it.

If I did something that I planned, after having reviewed the possible consequences, knowing what was probable to occur...I don't get to say, well, mentally ill.  That's my ticket.  Nope.  That is not my get out of jail free card.

It starts with one...

Today, one little red paper clip...

Tomorrow, a house!!

This dude builds his dream of moving a paper-clip into owning his own home. His name is Kyle MacDonald, a crazy Kanook who is out to do a remarkable thing.  He has already moved up to a year's free rent...

But, wait!  It's not over yet!

Kyle uses CraigList.  One day he thought, "hm, it'd be interesting to see what I can do with this..." while staring at a red paper-clip.  So, he set the goal of owning his own home, through a series of barters, starting with a small ordinary do-dad.



He posted the picture of the red paper-clip on the CraigList and traded up for a fish-pen.  That was the embarkment on an amazing bartering adventure that has carried him from one place to another, all over the continent.  See what a goal, motivation, and a zestful spirit can accomplish?

For the full details, go here.

Sharing

...yet another to pass along.

This is what marriage is really all about...

He ordered one hamburger, one order of French fries and one drink. The old man unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half.  He placed one half in front of his wife.  He then carefully counted out the French fries, dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife.  He took a sip of the drink, his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them.  As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger, the people around them kept looking over and whispering.  You could tell they were thinking, "That poor old couple - all they can afford is one meal for the two of them."
As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table. He politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple.  The old man said that they were just fine - They were used to sharing everything.
The surrounding people noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite.  She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink.  Again the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said "No, thank you, we are used to sharing everything."
As the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin, the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked "What is it you are waiting for?"  She answered, "The teeth."

whatcha sayin'?

...and another gem to share.

A couple in their nineties are both having problems remembering things.  They decide to go to the doctor for a checkup. The doctor tells them  that they're physically okay, but they might want to start writing  things down to help them remember.  Later that night, while watching  TV, the old man gets up from his chair.
His wife asks, "Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen" he replies.
 "Will you get me a bowl of ice cream?"
  "Sure."
 "Don't you think you should write it down so you can remember it?" she asks.
 "No, I can remember it."
 "Well, I'd like some strawberries on top, too. You'd better write it down because you know you'll forget it."
 He says, "I can remember that! You want a bowl of ice cream with
 strawberries."
"I'd also like whipped cream. I'm certain you'll forget that, so you'd  better write it down!" she retorts.
 Irritated, he says, "I don't need to write it down, I can remember it!
 Leave me alone! Ice cream with strawberries and whipped cream - I got it, for goodness sake!" Then he grumbles into the kitchen.
After about 20 minutes the old man returns from the kitchen and hands his wife a plate of bacon and eggs.  She stares at the plate for a moment and says - "Where's my toast?"

Raising the bar of expectations...in the Court Room

In my eMail box are several jewels that I would like to share with you, my friends.

These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts, 

and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.
____________________

ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth?
WITNESS: July 18th.
ATTORNEY: What year?
WITNESS: Every year.
__________________________________

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?

WITNESS: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"

ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan.
_______________________

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Would you repeat the question?
______________________________________

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
___________________________________

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you  performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.
_____________________________________

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK?  What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
 _______________________________

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!
 ________________________________

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Huh?
 _________________________________

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: But could the patient have still been alive,  nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law...

belly-dancing

Belly-dancing is rich in cultural meanings.  But it can be a great way to work those abs, to become more familar with your own body, and tone up.  I recommend visiting www.shira.com for more information.

Yoga Booty Ballet

gasp!

Ya know there's all kinds of exercise programs out there.  Some are gimmicky.  Some are legit.  And some are legitimately gimmicky.

I was surprised to see this one.  I don't know why.  I guess cuz I think of yoga as a solemn thing.  Yes, it can be fun.  But somehow, booty and yoga are just not terms I mix.  Neither are booty and ballet.  Altho, both yoga and ballet are good for the booty...

It's just that the name tickles me!

Finding myself

Over here!!

No, here!!

Under that document.  No that other document.

Ta-Da!!  Here I am!!

Sometimes, I can be rather self-absorbed.  I think it is because for so long, I didn't think of myself.  I didn't think I deserved to think of myself.  I didn't think I even had a self to think about.  And if I did, well, I certainly shouldn't be thinking about it, now should I?

So, swinging way to the other end of the spectrum, I became giddy with the notion that I have a self.  And it is ok to look at me.  And it is ok to think about me.

But, in the course of discovering more about myself, I sometimes focus on me so much so that I am blinded and deafened to the others around me.  I forget to take into consideration other people.  This can hurt other people, me, and my relationships with other people.  I need to learn that balance between self-denial and self-absorbtion.

FlyLady

Last night, I was down at my landlord's.  I jabber with her for awhile, then give her the rent (that way she must chit-chat, in order to get her rent...sort of a counselor session, or a rent-a-friend).  Anyway, she told me about FlyLady.

Flylady.com will take you to flylady.net so either way, ya get where ya need to be.  Just remember FlyLady.

I'm not gonna say anything else, except it's clean.  go, shoo, go, shoo-fly!!

Time, a fairly fluid concept...sixth

alright, due to all the eMails that are flocking to my box about this whole thing that is suppose to be happening tomorrow, i gotta have me say.  you knew that was coming, didn't ya?  for those of you who didn't know, this is what is going on:

01:02:03 04/05/06
the third second after the second minute of the first hour of the fifth day of the fourth month of the sixth...wait not the sixth year...

since we are using shorthand for 2006, most numerologist say, it's no big deal.

still others dispute that the year is 2006, saying that we are off on our calculations  altogether. 

and other cultures base the year on their own political or religious figures or events.  i mean, isn't that what we did?  so to some, it is not even 2006.

some say that if we are going to use shorthand for the year 2006 (06), then what's to  stop us from using shorthand for 13:02 (1:02 pm).

many countries put the number of the day first, then the number of the month. So for many places, 01-02-03-04-05-06 happens at 1:02 a.m. May 4.

and then there is the whole daylight savings time thing to consider....

maybe i woke on the wrong side of the bed!!  or in the wrong year...  or the wrong
place....

Tea for one, or two, or three...or more!

What's the difference between white, black, red, and green teas?

Gosh, I am sooooooooooo glad you asked!  Cuz now I can provide an answer.  How the pickings are processed is the biggest difference between "color" teas.

Most tea comes from the plant "Camellia sinensis".  Black, red, and green teas use the upper leaves; while white tea comes from the early tender buds at the end of the lower branches.  Black and red teas are really the same; what americans call "black", the chinese call "red".

Oolong is a mid-step between the green tea (processed some) and black tea (processed more).  So green tea is usually unoxidized, oolong is partially (or somewhat) oxidized, and black is fully oxidized.  White tea is the closet to leaves off the plant.  Green tea is unfermented, while black is aged moreso.

What about orange pekoe, Debra?

Again, so glad you asked!!  Cuz, again, I get to explain (and hey! it's my journal, so I get to do what I wanna...most of the time).  The actual origins are lost, but now the name no longer refers to what it did at one point in time in our past.

Orange may refer to the color of the brewed liquid (a copperish tinge) or it may refer to the blossoms that used to be packed with the tea when it was exported (to disguise any um unpleasant scents and tastes cuz it is fermented) or it may even refer to the political powers that were.  And/or all three explanations came into play through history.

Pekoe, earlier, meant the fuzzy white new buds and new leaves.  But now, it refers to black teas only.  So tradition has changed through the years.  Now when we read orange pekoe on regular bags/boxes of quantity tea, we can rest assured that it really is just regular, processed, fermented, black (or red, depending if you are here or there) tea.

Rooibus is a different matter all together.  It is not really tea, in the same sense the above are teas.  It comes from a different type of plant.  And it's for another post, some other time.  As are the benefits and other traditions, flavorings, etc.

ahem, tain't the size that counts...

us lil peoples need our say-so, too!  (she pipes up)

Medicare, nor Medicaid, will not reimburse licensed professional counselors (LPCs) who have private practices.  Those agencies will only reimburse clinics (those who worked inside the clinic are not paid as per insurance reimbursements, rather they are paid a flat salary/wage regardless).  The idea is that doctors (gasp) are involved and so the treatment must be superior to that which a person might receive if a doctor were not in the building and/or associated with said clinic (the doc is frequently elsewhere when clients are being counseled, sometimes in a different county even).  Actually, most LPCs especially in private practice, are supervised by a doctor.  So, THAT whole concept doesn't hold water as a justification.

This policy is extremely unfair to clients and counselors alike.  Clients do not have a choice of counselors as they must frequent the clinic and not any of the private practicioners.  In our area, there is one clinic, per county.  These clinics are all apart of the same organization (Community Counseling).  In some cases, recipients of Medicare/Medicaid have no place to go to receive services at all (as sometimes Community Counseling is not available for them, such as if a relative works within the system, then services for the entire system is closed to them, not just that particular office).  The counselors who work for the organization are way over-loaded and cannot devote the time, energy, and other resources for all of their cases because the demand surpasses the supply.  So burn-out and high turn-over results, and that is not good for the client who must start all over with a new counselor and it is not good for the incoming counselor who has to wade through the mess, often drowning and suffering severely before sinking and moving on.  Nor is it good for the outgoing counselor who is often more than a little soured on public-service positions, which leads to further shortages of qualified counselors who are willing to serve in those agencies.

Nor is it fair to the licensed professional counselor who practices in private practicioner settings.  They either cannot take clients who have Medicare/Medicaid or they have to accept a pittance for their services if they do take on a patient who has this type of insurance (as usually the client cannot afford even the self-pay rates, cuz ya know, their income level is sorta low, to make an understatement).  There are some LPCs who will make an exception to the rule, but that's just that, an exception.

Representative May Whittington (MS) has been the latest in a long-string of legislative folks to take this issue up as one of her causes.  She feels that we ought to pass an amendment which would allow a bill to be law, stating that Medicare/Medicaid must reimburse LPCs even if they don't practice in a clinic setting.  Hurray for May!!

Unfortunately, this bill has been floating around in the cesspool of congressional sessions for sometime.  It keeps getting sunk into the murky depths of rejection.  However, it bobs to the surface and someone swoops and scoops it up and carries it back in to the current session only to be bombed again.  sigh.

Please, write or call your representative about this matter.  I have the pertainnent info here in MS, but your state has a similar bill bouncing around too.  If anyone wants help in finding out specific information about the legislature in your state, let me know and I will help you find it!!!

For Mississippi:

"House Bill 447

AN ACT TO AMEND SECTION 43-13-117, MISSISSIPPI CODE OF 1972,
TO PROVIDE THAT MENTAL HEALTH COUNSELING SERVICES PROVIDED BY
A LICENSED PROFESSIONAL COUNSELOR (LPC) WILL BE REIMBURSABLE
UNDER THE MEDICAID PROGRAM; AND FOR RELATED PURPOSES."
Copy and paste:
http://billstatus.ls.state.ms.us/documents/2006/html/
HB/0400-0499/HB0447IN.htm

Odd couplings

My friend, Beverly, loves boston terriers.  She's had them all her life.  Her Mandy, 3, was run over and killed a few weeks back.  Beverly was just devastated.

Enter Sweet Pea.

Beverly picked up the 6 week pup a couple weeks ago.  She was describing her to me, since we live a few hours away and chances are I won't see the pup while she is still a pup.  I got to giggling, then chuckling, which degenerated into snorts and chortles, which I was glad Beverly couldn't hear.

Cuz Sweet Pea really does sound precious.

It's just, well, her mixed heritage.  I usually am not a snob when it comes to parentage, mixed or otherwise, but this just tickled my fanciful side a bit too much.  I still giggle, gurgle, and gasp at the picture I imagine.

Sweet Pea's mother is a boston terrier.  Now I realize that boston's come in all shapes and sizes, but this was a not a small boston (small for the breed, I mean).  So how in the hell Sweet Pea's dad got him a piece of that boston pie, well, I am picturing perhaps a step being involved, or even a ladder.  Cuz Sweet Pea's dad is a teacup chihuahua.

Dude, tell me you're not snorkling over this and I say you've got no sense of humor a'tall.  nope, none.

mint-tea, mint-tea, mint-tea

I was reading (cuz i like to do that) about drinking tea (cuz i like to do that, too) whilst drinking mint-tea (cuz i...oh, you get the point).  The article was about how folks who are allergic to pollens might not oughta be drinking certain types of tea because the main ingredients are harvested in areas where hay, ragweed, and other pollens might be comingled.  So, the main culprit appears to be chamomile, but be advised that other primary stuffs like rose-hips (those voluptuously heartee parts) and mints (there are lots more kinds of mints than i had thought, catnip is a mint, didj'all know THAT?) may also be, gulp, contaminated with pesky pollens.

and here i thought mint would be good for opening my sinuses, that chamomile would be wonderful for those edgy nerves (can't be throwing fits ALLlll the time, nor everywhere), and that rose-hips would be good for soothin my throat (or just plain good for all my parts, after all, who can't use a few good rose hips throwing curves at ya every now and then?).  show's ya what i know!

well, didja evah?

Ya know how you can do something that is so embarrassing that later you make it worse by being ashamed and apologizing when the other party didn't even think it was a big deal to begin with...?  or maybe it is just me.   muttering, shrugging shoulder, raising one palm and eyebrow.  sigh.

Alright, well then, ya might know how silly, embarrassed, shamed-faced, and regretful I felt on Friday afternoon.  Cuz boy did I pitch a fit at the gym, standing at the front desk in a bathing suit, two towels, and my sandles.  I didn't mean to.  It just kinda get away from me.

I did apologize profusely once I calmed down.  And then I burst into tears, which made as all uncomfortable.  I hate bursting into tears like that.  sigh.  seems sorta childish.

Of course, I would have a full-blown panic attack, complete with hyperventilation and woozy wibble-wobbles (like the weeble-people, remember them?).  I tried to stifle it instead of letting it run its course.  That made me panicky cuz I was panicking, see the vicious cycle here?

Fortunately, I think we got everything squared away.  I apologized, they apologized, they calmed my panic attack and I took my jittery butt to the pool.  I sat on the edge and dangled my legs til I got it all together and then did some relaxing strokes til all the tension was gone.

Upon reflection, I realized that I most likely was beginning to feel the effects of missing several doses of my anti-depressant.  I forgot to get it filled.  So, Saturday I got all my drugs for the month.  And I think I feel much better for the most part.

Now if I could just do something about my allergies.  The pollen is wrecking my sinuses.  Even though I take allergy meds, this time of the year is hard on me.  The post-nasal drippage is tearing up my throat, which in turn is messing with my ears and that is  throwing off my balance.  It's a dizzying experience.

Spring has Sprung

Now that the clocks have been adjusted and we are starting Daylight Savings Time, we are THAT much closer to saying "b'bye" to the bad weather, namely cool temps.  And ready to say "heya" to other forms of bad weather, namely tornadoes and rain rain rain (with wind, oh, could be those are hurricanes).  This is tornado season (the fall is hurricane season).

The pollen is coating all with thick heavy greenish yellow (or yellowish green, either way, it's disturbingly similar to hhhhhhhhhhhhhhawktue mucus).  People are sadly mistaken if they think that rain helps to dampen and therefore calms pollen so that allergy sufferers get a break after a storm.  Not so.  That same storm that leaves your yard looking tossed to the winds, that same storm that leaves the road scattered with debris like branches and the occassional tree-limb, that same storm that makes your hair feel electrified, that same storm that made your livestocks' eyes roll widely is the same storm that wrecks havoc on pollen, stirring it up and pushing it into crevices and other supposedly airtight vaccuums.  Rains actually cause pollen to be more apt to be breathed into the body, irritating the sinuses and lung-lining.  This in turn can make mildly mannered folks turn into savage snotty beasts.

But gosh the budding trees, bloomin' flowers, and lush green grass are sure purty!