Category Archives: Retro post (which is another way of saying I forgot to post it when I wrote it)

Well, that was awkward…

Vintage 1940's Fire Extinguisher   Brass/Copper

I’m hoping that using a photo of a cool, vintage fire extinguisher I look arty, and less like an insurance risk…

Small kitchen fire today.

The second one in a week.

Both of them occurred when I was… boiling water.  That’s right, the wet stuff that most people use to put fires out.

Now that is a talent.  Of some sort.  But mostly embarrassing.

I believe this should be filed under “I probably shouldn’t cook while I have a migraine.”   Or, “Can I blame this on the drugs?  And if I can, shouldn’t I be having more fun than this?”

Migraine, day 94.  The adventure continues….

My brain is still leaking, though I’m feeling less stabby about it…

Why yes, I do still have the migraine. Why do you ask?

So it has been 13 weeks of migraine.  Thirteen.  Thought I’d spell that out, since two digits doesn’t seem to quite cover the unrelenting feeling of a knife in the brain.  I’m not sure eight letters comes close, but at least it is four times the volumn of verbiage.

That totally made sense in my head.  Of course it is a head with 92 days of brain leak scrambling what little intellect I have left, so welcome to my world.

The positive news (aside from the husband who loves me despite my cranky nature, the nice little house I get to call home, the fact that I get to be an artist rather than an office worker, the fact that I couldn’t have chosen better parents… and countless other blessing s in life that keep interfering with any pity party I want to throw myself) is that I’m getting off the steroids.

After a month of Prednisone I finally started tapering off them.  Two and a half weeks ago.  Only two and a half weeks to go.

Tapering is not a fast process people.

My neck and face have stopped looking like a weirdly drawn anime creation, which is lovely.  Not back to normal yet, but at least the generally accepted facial geometry has begun to be reflected in the mirror.

And more importantly I’ve lost the majority of the major mood swings and massive irritation (oh, hell, I’ll be honest… it wasn’t so much mood swings as near murderous rage) I was carrying around.

Yesterday a car did a major illegal/annoying/dangerous move that totally impacted me.  And I did not have the urge to ram them with my vehicle.

This is progress people!

(oh spell check – you amuse me…. auto corrected “stabby” to “shabby”  Totally not what I meant spell check.  You are just lucky I’ve put the large stabby knife down…)

When someone says this to you before 8am, it’s hard for the rest of the day to be more interesting…

I never carry live poultry in my bag.
Now I feel kind of boring.

“I once took three ducks to the mall in my backpack.  I rode the bus to get there.  Everyone at the mall thought it was fun to watch me with them.  Of course by the end of the day my backpack was ruined.”

Unexpected side effect of two broken feet…

And, no, I’m not pregnant. That ship has sailed.  And hit an ice-burg. And sunk.

I have somehow developed pregnancy nose.  An unfortunate ability to smell things other people can’t.  And not just imaginary things, but real events that other people have forgotten about.
Like, sitting in my sister-in-law’s place, being overwhelmed with the smell of sewage.  Which no one else notice.  And I’m all, really?  No one else wants to run screaming from the room, but can’t because they can’t run because broken feet suck for soooo many reasons?  Because ick.  Just ick.
And after quizzing people when the SIL and her husband aren’t in the room your MIL suddenly remembers that there was an unfortunate sewage back up flooding problem a few months before.  Which, I never heard about. And which, according to my new super and unwanted super power, has lingered in the dry wall.
Really?  Out of all the potential superpowers out there, I get the nose?  Why not invisibility?  Or flying?  Or, in the realm of the possible — how about going for a nice jog through the neighborhood?

All it took was twenty bottles of wine

Wine Bottles

The crazy thing is the husband and I only had a couple of glasses, five of our guests don't drink, and no one seemed drunk. Were are guests pouring it down the sink when we weren't looking?

So I’m in a much better mood.  Funny thing about pain and depression.  Totally overwhelming one day, and then slowly it is just whelming.

Wait, it isn’t whelming.  That would imply I’d been buried by water.  And while I did take a few hot showers trying to was the sadness off of me – which sadly didn’t work – I was never submerged.

But I’m feeling much better.  Though it took more than twenty bottles of wine.  It took fifty people helping me drink them.  While I wore silver sequins.

Something about being perched on a bar stool, with wonderful people bringing me appetizers, filling my wine glass, and chatting with the wonderful amazing people in my life… well, it is a huge reminder that this whole being in the wheelchair for months will someday end, and that I’m such a lucky woman.  It’s something easy to forget when I’m frustrated and depressed about not being able to walk since July.

But Saturday night, I was in my modest little house, with my husband who is also my best friend, with some friends I’ve known for over thirty years, and some I met in the last year – all of whom are intelligent, funny, caring people that I get to share my life with.

How amazing is that?

Five bottles of sparkling wine, five of white, ten of red, two non-alcoholic wines, about thirty bottles of bubbly water, two gallons of punch, and about one hundred and fifty candles. How could it not be fabulous?