Falling to pieces

My immune system has shut down, for no good reason other than the fact that I haven't slept more than 3 hours (and that's rare, let's be honest) at a stretch for over two years now. (Yes, being pregnant totally counts)

I'm currently suffering the following ailments:
* Kidney Infection
* Cold Sore
* Swollen lymph nodules in *both* armpits that are so huge I thought they were skin problems
* Some raw burned patch of skin on the roof of my mouth

The roof of my mouth probably isn't related to anything else, but I decided to be all inclusive, like a fancy resort.

I'm borked, and need a good fixing.

Also, the antibiotics they gave me are not compatible with breast feeding and tore up my stomach so much that it still hurts, 24 hours after the first and only dose. I called the doctor all day today to find out what to do and it was only within the past hour that they returned my call. Suffice to say my kidneys are throbbing dully once again.

Note to self ...

Arrogance works best when you don't make stupid grammatical errors in your enclosures.

Sheesh.

TGIF

You just know it's gonna shape up to be a fantastic day when you get puked on before you're even out of bed.

Things can only improve from there, right?

Blaring Ben Folds on the way to work didn't hurt things either.

Also, the puke helped me get up earlier than normal so I didn't have to rush at all which was nice.

See? There is ALWAYS a silver lining, even if it's coated in bile.

The sweet smell of office supplies

I distinctly remember the faintly sweet odor of Eraser Mate pens.

In fact, all Bic pens have that wet inky scent that drove me to doodle during high school Algebra. Too smudgy for a lefty to use frequently, I loved Eraser Mates smelly ink and creamy erasers. I used to write just to feel the eraser glide over the paper and remove my confessions. Or at least to lighten them, because those pens didn't really erase that well, did they?

Go ahead. Try it. Sniff your pen; I dare you. Pull a Bic from your supply closet, scribble for a minute and then put your nose down to your paper - if only to see how your coworkers react.

...

One of my best friends from college met a lovely, beautiful girl. Then, he fell in love with that girl and eventually got married. Since they've been married I've gotten to know that girl pretty well and now I love her too.

After a couple of years of waiting, they decided to have a baby and last February when Amber announced her pregnancy, N and I were ecstatic despite being in the midst of dealing with a two month old CrazyBaby.

A week ago, I found out my friend's baby has cancer. They got the results of her MRI the same day she turned four months old. It was a devastating day for all of us who know and love them.

I can't say enough good things about these folks -- they are truly amazing.

Their daughter, Baby M, has had surgery to remove part of a tumor that infiltrated her spine and was causing nerve damage to her left leg. Yesterday, she started a vigorous round of Chemotherapy.

I've read that the more stubborn and cantankerous a person is, the quicker their recovery and discharge.

Baby M never got to meet her paternal Great Grandma, but they share a physical resemblance, and I'm hoping that's not all. Great Grandma B wasn't someone I knew well, but through my limited encounters and through the stories I've heard from Ryan, I know she was very determined, stubborn, and tenacious. The woman was built on resolve and she was wicked smart.

If the two are anything alike, this baby will beat cancer with energy to spare.

Please keep her in your positive thoughts.

It's Valentine's Day!

So I thought it appropriate that I declare my love.

Let's give it up for Ben Folds everyone!

I can't help it; I have tried to get his music out of my head and every time I hear something by him I fall a little bit deeper. Magical, that one.

Also, my husband is great. No, really. I mean it. He's so great that he played me a Ben Folds song on the piano just because I asked him to.

I will be spending my Valentine's evening in a classroom full of 28 other students and a teacher who only wears tourist Tees from places he's traveled so that he always has a story about a ski resort in France, or a train in Colorado, or the weather in Cancun.

Happy Day to you all. Remember to spread the love and give some back to yourself.

"How long am I supposed to nuke that tamale for?"

Please ignore the poor grammar as I did not write the above sentence. It was sent via Instant Messenger, which means I should not be a judgmental hypocrite.

****

Many of you know I am obsessed with food, eating, and meal planning. So it should come as no surprise that today I was fretting about not having enough food. My options were frozen tamales or beans; we had the beans for dinner last night and I'm sick of them already, so I chose a frozen tamale from Costco!

While reading the microwave instructions for the tamales, I noted it suggested to wrap the tamale in a damp paper towel and then place it inside a plastic bag.

I swallowed hard, pushing that bit of irrational(?) cancer fear deep into my belly so it can coexist with my tamale. I'm not sure if the release of Dioxin is harmful, but today it gave me pause.

I paused so long I forgot to read how long I should microwave my lunch.

Shameless Plug

Pandora is the best innovation in music technology in a very long time.

Become a member. It's cheap.

I'm in love.

If you want to see what I'm listening to, add me as your friend: nylecoj@knownick.net

Is a parking lot age appropriate?

It's not like it happens daily. I certainly don't just open the front door and let my thirteen month daughter run amok. I mean, sure, once in a while when she's been bad I let her run unsupervised near the busy street, but more often than not I am there vigilantly watching as I trudge along, hands in my pockets.

The lady driving the tan Chevy Tahoe certainly didn't approve of my parenting style, what with trying to read the mail and watch Sofie at the same time. And maybe, in reading this post you might think I'm a little lax, especially since my daughter is currently filling our garbage can with water, but hey, those are YOUR standards you're projecting.

Besides, if your kid only napped for twenty minutes today, you might feel differently.

Dear Co-worker who thinks Global Warming is a charade,

For starters, it's not. And no, not all garbage goes to the same place. It's not like your Dr. Pepper can flies away when it dies and floats up to garbage heaven to be reincarnated as a plastic take-out container. Garbage sits in, around, and on our planet slowly decomposing and off-gasing.

Your effort to kill my recycling plan at work is futile; all it does is infuriate me which is not wise on your behalf since our bosses like me better anyway. If you continue to thwart my plan to obey Jack Johnson and reduce, re-use, and recycle, I will have to get you fired. Seriously. If I ever have to pick out your disgusting orange peel from our recycling bin because YOU ARE TOO LAZY to put it in the garbage that is located THIRTEEN VERY FAR INCHES AWAY, I will make it my personal goal to see that you suffer the same miserable fate of the polar bears and any other species that becomes extinct because of STUPID, LAZY, FAT people like yourself.

Yes, I know you aren't fat, YET. Keep it up.

Warmest Regards,

Your co-worker, aka

- A UCSC Alumni who has since become a titty feeding co-sleeping tree-hugging hippy-nazi

P.S. Anyone Jewish who is reading this, don't be offended by the Nazi thing. Some girl labeled me a titty-feeding nazi and since it's basically the truth, it stuck.