Thursday, December 11, 2008
I was stressing hard because my dad's care cost has skyrocketed, and I was thinking, shit, he only has about 20 months worth of funds left at this new high rate, and dammit that would suck if he ended up in the VA. Then I went to see him Sunday.
He slept for a whole day the other day. He's managed to get skinnier, he's barely eating. He is barely walking, he can't get up on his own. He's winding down. The care providers basically warned me that they will be hugely surprised if he lasts 2 months.
This has brought me peace. Not because I want my dad gone, but I want my dad to be free of his failing body. I want him to be at peace. I am actually okay with it right now, and I think I'm able to say goodbye to him when the time comes.
I am thankful because he is not in pain. I'm thankful because I know he has the best care possible. I am thankful because he seems relatively happy these days, in his own little bizarre nonsense world. And he's going to go out the best way possible.
I was so afraid that he would be afraid to die. When he nearly died from cancer my father the Athiest asked for a Catholic Priest. When he was well the athiesm came back. lol.
So the fact that my dad is dying peacefully is about the best thing happening right now. :/
I decided I needed something positive. I am going to Paris. Dave initially tried to talk me out of it, "Do you think we should start small soon, in San Francisco or something for our next trip?"
No. I want fucking Paris.
I realize that a great part of my frustration with the homestead is I am trapped in the sense that my bohemian tendencies are reeled in. I can't just take off whenever I want. And I am sick of waiting to do what I feel like I need to do, and I feel life is passing me by.
So I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm not going to let anyone elses baggage or issues prevent me from doing what I need to do. I'm going to Paris by 09-2010.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Today at 10am was the Hospice intake. My mom watched the kids for a few hours so Dave could go with me. Just when I think I'm ready to make peace with everything something changes.
He knew me today.
He didn't say my name, but he looked at me. And he talked to me. Or at least tried to. It was like it was in the past - I got the word "socks" and he pulled up his pants leg to show me his sore. It was just like before, when I went there and he would go down his list of shit that was bugging him. He knew I was there, and he knew who I was. He couldn't answer my questions, and didn't respond appropriately, but he looked in my eyes, and was trying so hard to tell me something.
Then, clear as a bell he said "I really wish I had my wrench."
W. T. F.?
This is the most with it that he's been in MONTHS, and it's just messing with me. The nurse did the hospice intake thing, explained the whole process if he makes it past the first 90 days, how aspiration pneumonia works, how people can get used to it for a while until it just overcomes them, that he's strong and stubborn and obviously hanging on etc. The pneumonia is still there, still low grade fever, but his breathing doesn't seem labored.
So again W. T. F.?
Then the biggest bombshell of the day... my father doesn't have Alzheimer's. He has Lewy Body Dementia.
I was like "Where does it say that?" She showed me, and I said "Did this come from the VA or what, because this is the first time I have ever heard this." She wasn't sure.
So I get home and I research Lewy Body, and it's basically Parkinson's symptoms and Alzheimer's symptoms, but not either disease - a different brain atrophy process. And guess what I find out. Parkinson's drugs (which he had been on like SEVEN YEARS) make it worse. And anesthesia makes it worse, and people with Lewy Body often don't come back from general anesthesia to how they were, and they recommend other means of pain control for surgery.
And guess what the fucking VA did when he broke his hip three years ago? And guess when he really went whacked???
Dude, I found this out and freaked ALLLLL over again. The doctors made him WORSE. And I didn't even stop to think about it.
So I flipped out right, and was just so pissed, and wanted to break all their faces, and was bawling and yelling at nothing in the garage and just melting down and Dave took me inside and sat me down and basically yelled at me (in a nice way) that I had nothing to do with it and it wasn't my fault, and WTF was I supposed to think, they went to med school I didn't and I always researched his meds and diagnosis and fought for him and always tried to take care of him with all the energy I had.
I know on a mental level that he's right but DAMMIT...... I feel SO GUILTY, like I should have researched more, or gotten him a different doctor even though he insisted the VA was fine, and not believed those assholes in Florida that said he has Parkinson's and these assholes in Portland that said he has Alzheimer's. And if the VA did figure out that what he really had is Lewy Body (and after reading about it I am 100% certain he has Lewy Body, I mean he has every single thing, and it's like reading an essay about the last 5 years of his life, including the out of it for months and then moments of lucidity) they covered their own asses by not saying anything, and this is probably WHY they took him off the Parkinson's meds about 6 months ago.
God, I'm so pissed off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was talking to my mom and telling her I don't want to be there when he is actually dying and it scares the hell out of me and she told me he wouldn't want anyone there anyway, and she said "It looks like the two of you want the same thing." She knows him better than anyone else on Earth, as she lived with him for a decade and a half, and I know she wouldn't bullshit me.
And then I got on ebay and bought a Gucci purse.
I am Lamer than Lame is Lame, dude.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
A stray kitten found me today in the parking lot.
I was going into the office to pick up a package and she ran up to me, all soaked, and rubbed on my leg and meowed at me. I told her "No baby", and gently pushed her out of the way.
The lady in the apartment office, who I hadn't seen before, was there, and she said "Oh God, is that kitten out there again?" We talked about it for a while and it seems some asshole dropped her off there and she's been around for a couple of months. The lady said "When I did inspections last week someone in the A building had felt sorry for her and let her in. You should take her!" I said "I am already at my fill of pets" (actually, Cole is already one over - ha) and she said "Who cares! I won't tell the owners! We never had this conversation. Just take her, please! I'm so afraid she will get hit by a car! I can't take her because my husband's allergic."
So yeah. I picked her up and she headbutted me and I said, "Hi, Bella." Her name just came out. I took her inside, dried her off, and she bonded with the dog instantly. Dharma is hella pissed off, hissed at her once and is pouting next to the Christmas tree. She and Cole checked each other out, got nose to nose, and then had a mini brawl, but not too bad considering.
She is absolutely gorgeous. Her fur is all matted underneath, I can't imagine how pretty she will be when I clean her up. She's grey tabby, long haired, with pretty greeny yellow eyes. She reminds me of my Cleo, who I had to put down a couple of years ago. I saw her face and I couldn't resist. She picked me, just like Cleo did. I went looking for Dharma and Cole and Dalai... the ones that pick you are somehow different. I can tell by looking at her teeth she's probably about 5-6 months old. She's very petite, and underweight under all her fur. She is absolutely the sweetest, most affectionate thing. It's like she's thanking me...
I'm going to drop her off at the vet tomorrow to make sure she's okay, and not pregnant. She's old enough to be pregnant. I'll have her shots done, and make an appointment to have her spayed.
Now she needs a middle name, or maybe eight like Cole. Wanna Help? Queen Isabella ?? ??? ????
I'm a little apprehensive because we are pretty much maxed out on animals, but what else could I do? She picked me. And I don't know anyone that wants a gorgeous little kitty.
Friday, October 31, 2008
My dad is now coughing up blood with the phlegm, I'm sure this feels awful, I want someone to give him some drugs already. Plus, I think if I talk to Hospice at length I will feel better, knowing what will happen and what I need to do, and what I should do. He was sleeping at 8 ish when I called. This never happens.
I'm walking that line of wanting to know what's going on and wanting to stick my fingers in my ears and say "LA LA LAAAA" until it's over.
Deanna called me at work, and that was pretty much a brief dose of therapy (thank you for that) as she's been through all of this with her Grandma, so she gets how weird it is to watch a demented person die and all the jacked up decisions that need to be made. She says I need to tell him that it's ok to pass on. I don't know why I don't want to do this. Probably because every time I think about it I cry. And I don't know if he believes in God. And I don't want to make him freak out about dying. And I don't know if he even knows who I am.
I did get caught up in work, which is a miracle, I never thought it would happen this week. Throwing myself into that has been a good distraction. I sense a whole lot of reading in my future.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
He has lost every ability EXCEPT the wandering. Oh how lucky for the caregivers. LOL. Totally incontinent, can't communicate, tries to eat weird things, doesn't want to eat food etc.
Last night he had a 102 fever after 2 extra strength Tylenol. I slept about three hours last night (i think Dave slept about 4 1/2 - he's my champion partner in crime) and am destroyed. We went over this morning. He had no idea who I was and spent the majority of his time picking his nose and picking at the hem on his jeans.
As of 10:30 am he didn't have a fever. He wouldn't cooperate and let them listen to his lungs, so they don't know if his breathing is better or worse. Then they asked him some questions and he actually responded - he actually ANSWERED one. I guess they call this "rallying". Sometimes that happens, I guess, it's the last bit of fight in them.
The nurse is supposed to check in on him once again tonight. Even if he does fight off this bout of pneumonia it will come back, as he is aspirating food and water. He's forgotten how to swallow, and when things go down the wrong pipe they stay there, because the cough reflex is gone. This is a main reason why I don't want to treat it. What's the point? Ok, I get him better for a little while, then what? So he can repeat it? So he can pick his nose and shit himself?
So they are still calling in hospice. They asked the VA for authorization today. The caregiver (whom I consider an expert) says it's not immediate pending death, it's weeks or months left. The monthly rate for him now is $4800. Ouch. Who knows if there will be money left, I guess it depends how long he hangs on for.
I have an appointment at a local funeral home on Monday after work. I'm still fighting with Florida funeral home to get the funds back, but I figure I better pay now in case he does pass and then his funds are frozen.
I'm to the point now where I hope this is it for him, so to speak, because he's been suffering enough, and I feel in my gut that he's ready to go. The selfish part of me wants it over quickly too, so I can deal with it and move on.
It's weird, I went from sobbing about it to thinking all these weird selfish things, like I hope it's over soon, I wonder if there will be money left to pay off student loans, etc. Dave says I'm just obsessing over details as a way of coping. I don't know. I have never felt more exhausted in my entire life. Everyone is out in the kitchen carving pumpkins and I just don't think I can do that right now. I'm just waiting for the next phone call from the nurse.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I'm not treating it. It's up to God now.
I'm going over there tomorrow to see him. It's been over a month.
I am feeling a tremendous amount of guilt. But sending him to the hospital to be poked and prodded isn't going to help him.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
So... my new job is officially going to rule.
The HR girl is my new best friend, as I commented on her Michael Kors bag, we talked purses for like 1/2 hour. She then let me know that I was one of over 300 applicants, and asked me if I'd cruise the mall with her on lunch sometime. Hahaha!!! She's rad, she had on lots of bling and she told me how she likes to change her hair all the time - she has a bunch of wigs she rotates to match her outfits. She told me I am the same age as her daughter. hahaha
There are lots of 30ish people there, which is awesome - and I asked about tattoos and no problem - a few people have piercings and funky hair, just all professional clothing, which I dig on dressing up anyway.
The girl that gave me the tour started whispering outside the CEO's office, pointing him out to me. His assistant whispered we could go in. His door was open and everything. She was all timid, "Excuse me, don't mean to bother you, uh, this is Sara, our new Print Coordinator." I marched over to him, stuck out my hand and introduced myself and he welcomed me etc etc. We had a brief convo. The two ladies looked like they were going to shit bricks. I don't understand why people get all weird about bosses. I don't get intimidated by people, everyone is the same to me. I would treat the janitor with the same respect.
I overheard her telling another VP after I cracked a joke "Sara is going to fit in great. And she's definitely not shy." No kidding. LMAO
Yeah... so it kicks the ass of my old job. Talk about movin' on up in the world. The girl who is vacating my job only had it for a year. So things are looking very very good for yours truly.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Let me explain.
When I was 23 and obviously temporarily retarded, I got engaged to the moron known as my ex-husband. I had a really good job as a Marketing Assistant for a foodservice brokerage and marketing group. Moron complained and bitched and moaned that I would have to TRAVEL (like twice a year) and basically manipulated me into quitting my job and I was stupid enough to fall for it.
I loved that job, and it was the most money I ever made, and as soon as I realized what I had done I felt like the hugest dumbass ever. And I was damn good at it too.
When I went back to work in an office I ended up temping for an insurance place and that's how I got stuck in insurance hell for these last 8 or so years.
Well, that job was the most money I ever made. Until NOW. And this is starting wage!
I feel like I am back on track. I feel like I've got myself back, on every level.
The philosophy there is you have to work hard, have a good sense of humor, and while education is helpful it isn't everything. I only have my AA, and they mentioned "Oh you have an AA" and asked if I wanted to go further, and I mentioned I wasn't sure. They discussed that they had tuition reimbursement, yet the VP of Marketing said "At Papa Murphy's we look at who you are, what you do, and not your fancy degrees. Our CFO doesn't even have a Bachelor's."
The one thing I've beaten myself up for screwing up is fucking around and not getting more school. And it doesn't matter here. I can do as well as I want to, and I'm so completely relieved. I feel set free right now. It was so time for me to move on.
Now giving notice is another issue. Not looking forward to it... ugh.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Dad had his annual VA physical, I took him. We got the wheelchair van to pick us up, which was a relief, as I had to make about a dozen phone calls to have him hooked up with that Service. It was next to impossible to get him into my little Hyundai. The primary care doctor is an asshole, no other word for it. We've tangled a few times.
So he's shocked at the condition dad is in since last year, asks me what's new, I tell him that he's up most of the night, incontinent etc all the typical dementia stuff. First he infers that maybe the home I have him in isn't adequate. Uh, no, I explain that they are great. He latches on to this incontinence thing (which has been a natural progression from occasionally to constantly, it's not like it just showed up overnight) and he says it could be prostate issues, which is easily treatable with meds. I'm cool with that treatment. Asks if he can do a quick bladder scan. I agree, am in the room with dad, talking to him while it's happening, it's quick and non-invasive. He's confused but he gets through it ok.
That comes back and he says he wants to do a quick rectal exam to make sure it's not the prostate. I hesitate, say I don't know if he can handle it, he says some BS like "oh, it will be fine."
I leave the room at this point for some privacy, then come back in, doc says prostate is fine. Says it could be a bladder infection causing the incontinence and he wants him to see a urologist.
I point out he has no other signs of bladder infection (like fever, abdominal pain), and if it is a bladder infection we are not going to treat it anyway. At this point he's absolutely horrified and says "You mean you are willing to let him die over a bladder infection?" I say "Yes, because that's what he wanted. Look at his DNR order. It says quality of life meds only." "Well a bladder infection causing incontinence is a quality of life issue." "The caregiver reports that he isn't even aware when he's being changed for the most part." My dad is nodding off in his wheelchair at this point. So we go back and forth and he puts through a referral to urology anyway. I tell him I'm not taking him. He essentially ignores me and is really rude at this point, infers I'm basically going to kill my dad, or I want to kill my dad. I get my dad out of there as fast as I can. He is very agitated at this point.
The thing also is about 2 years ago the neurologist (who I like) showed me his brain scans, and there was so little healthy brain material left, he was amazed how well he was doing, so it seems that that string essentially broke and his condition is matching the scans now. This isn't surprising. It's sad, but not surprising at all.
The second we get back to the home he loses it and starts crying, he's saying a bunch of stuff I can't understand, then he starts asking for pills, for ALL the pills and says "I'm dead… I am just dead…can't do anything anymore…I'm dead… I'll sign…" so basically he was begging me to give him all the pills so he could off himself. I told him I was sorry but I couldn't do that. I basically bailed at that point, because then I was crying, and the caregivers took over, and I told him I'd see him this weekend.
The main caregiver, who has become a friend of mine, asks me what the hell happened, I told her, and obviously even being poked/prodded that much set him off, as he's been very docile and happy for the last month or so. We both agreed Dr. Asshole should witness what we just did and then he could tell me that treating a bladder infection was quality of life.
When I get the letter about the urology appointment in the mail I'm canceling it, asking to talk to a social worker, and complaining about that idiot doctor. I had already put in for a change of provider but it's about 6 more months on the waiting list. I hate the VA.
I just completely lost it last night. I haven't cried like that in years. I don't think Dave knew what to do with me. I don't want to kill my dad. I hate that doctor for how he made me feel. I don't want my dad to die. But he is going to die. He is already dying, slowly. And who the hell am I to refuse let a natural process happen, when it's what he's wanted, and has vocalized many times before he couldn't communicate? Today I'm totally just wiped out, like I'm in a haze, and I'm on autopilot. I was happy to go to work. I just wanted something "normal" to happen today.
I am going to do my damndest to keep him out of as many doctor appointments as possible.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Well, it seems he's broken some fingers, and everyone is amazed that he hasn't been complaining, she even moved them when she was checking him out and he didn't even flinch. I guess he's got a high tolerance for pain. The hours waiting for news were torturous, and I felt guilty that I wasn't there, even though the next best thing to me was there.
So the next decision was did I want him to be pinned (and therefore put out) or splinted. I chose splinted. I know he'll be wiped out tonight, so I'll go see him before work in the morning.
And so it goes…
Thursday, June 19, 2008
And that was that. The doctor said at this point they are pharmaceutically backing off, as there's basically no point. He advised me that since my father is close to being mute, and when he isn't mute he is essentially talking nonsense, that the next step will be that he forgets to walk. When this happens he becomes bedridden. The doctor advised me when this happens that it's time to call hospice.
Apparently when that stage starts one of a few things happens: 1. pneumonia, as when someone with Alzheimer's can't walk, they can't choke if water goes down the wrong pipe like you can when you are healthy, therefore they essentially drink everything into their lungs. 2. a secondary infection of some sort, bladder being the most common, 3. a fracture, and the complications thereof. He asked me if we had a plan in place. I explained yes, and my father elected a DNR many years ago, and that we would not administer any antibiotics. The plan is relieving the pain so that he can go peacefully.
The irony is his heart is great, liver function is great, if it wasn't for this disease he'd probably live to 100.
Then after being essentially mute for the exam, we get in the car and he said "That guy never tells us anything." LOL
And that's it.
I did good though, I didn't cry. I mean, it's not like a surprise, but no matter how much you try to prepare I don't think it's possible not to feel the devastation of losing someone close to you. In a way, it's worse. I hope I just keel over when I'm old, instead of rot away slowly as your brain is eaten away by plaque. I don't want my family to have to go through a long process of grief as bit by bit your old self fades away.
He was having a good day on Sunday. He told me that he felt trapped in his body. I told him I was sorry. I told him Happy Father's Day and gave him his new shoes, and he was happy.
When I dropped him off last night and kissed him goodbye, he said "Thank you, sweetie." And that is when I got in my car and cried.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
I've been pretty upset about this, and worried something bad is going to happen to the male half of my DNA, and it's kind of overwhelming. There are SO many homes, and they promise all this stuff, and there's waiting lists etc and I just decided to do the only thing I really could do... and well, that's pray, and ask God/Buddha/Allah whatever for a sign I couldn't really miss. Boy did I get it. More than once.
I went to one last night, it was in Salmon Creek, super big huge nice house, and the people that owned it seemed nice enough, but the referral guy was a little pushy, wanted a deposit etc all this stuff. I felt like it was a good place, but I felt the need to keep looking. Everyone there was in a wheelchair, and while Dad will be there soon, he still has this gimp about those that are really "sick" in his mind.
I talked to my mama, who knows everyone and her dog due to her chosen profession of Hair Stylist/Almost Free Therapist and she has a client that has a care home. She called her, and she didn't have any vacancies, but she left her a voicemail that she had several friends that also have group homes that go to the same church etc and left phone numbers.
Well between the combination of being deaf, and this lady's Romanian accent, my mom couldn't understand the names left on her voicemail but she could understand numbers.
So I have this list of like 9 phone numbers, and I reverse directory them, and only one comes up. I decide ah, well I'll call this one first, because at least I have a name to ask for.
I get busy at work, and mom calls back - she talked to her client again, and the client said her number one choice would be the lady whose name I just happened to find out. Ok, that's an interesting little coincidence. Ok.
So I call her, and she speaks perfect english, no accent, which is good - because my dad has a hard enough time anyway, and a heavy accent on a caregiver would be difficult for him. I like her instantly on the phone. She emails photos of the home and the room that just opened up, and there are more pictures of the residents than the home. This is unual, because 90% of these old folks places are trying to impress you with their nice furniture and fancy chandeliers, and that doesn't mean JACK SHIT. What matters is my dad is well taken care of and respected. So huge points there. Also, zero pressure from this girl.
I set up an appointment for tonight to go see her after seeing the pictures, and she emails me the address. It's 7*** Alabama Street.
My dad was born and raised in Alabama. Hmm, another interesting coincidence.
I get another lull at work, and I decide to call and check on the complaint records of these facilities. Most people don't realize this is public record and you can call and find out what happened.
Home 1, fancy one, has a complaint that was recently investigated on July 10th. The case is closed, with no evidence of wrongdoing noted, but there's no report available for me to look at. I discover they've only been open and licensed since March, which isn't the impression I got from the home. Hmm.That gives me pause.
Home 2, referred one, has zero complaints, and got a perfect score on every single surprise inspection. Hmm.
I go there, and the house isn't fancy, but it's immaculate and the people there are half in wheelchairs, and half not. Instantly I go up to the youngest looking guy there, and introduce myself. We shake hands and I flat out ask him how it is to live there. He tells me how wonderful it is and about how we are like a family here etc etc. He tells me I look young to have a dad in need of care, and that my dad must be young. I tell him "Not as young as you, I would imagine." He tells me he's 60. I tell him my dad's 74. He tells me he lives there because his kidneys are failing and he has seizures. He tells me he goes to the VA and was in the Navy, I tell him my dad was too, I crack a joke about waiting hours at the VA. I like this guy.
So I talk to the owner, Daniela, and she asks all the right questions, and has all the right answers to mine, she's sincere, and she has a good sense of humor. I explain to her that I'm looking for a place that my dad can stay at through the duration of his life, and ask specific questions about that. She has the perfect answer - she says caring for the vulnerable and elderly is her life's work and she considers it an honor to be able to assist people as they are in their final moments.
I decide she's hired.
I tell her I called the state, and she's the only one I asked about that got a perfect score. She's excited I did the footwork, and is excited to tell her husband - he walked by and she said "I told you people check!"
We discuss paperwork, timelines etc and talk for the better part of an hour. I like her more and more. We are similar in age. She tells me she worked at her mother's adult care home at the age of 16 and has been a caregiver ever since. She's in process of obtaining her nursing degree from Clark part time.
As I shake her hand and tell her I look forward to having her help care for my father, she gives me a brochure. I haven't seen it yet.
On the cover there is one picture - purple lotus flowers. Exactly like my tattoo. Yup, there's my final sign, in case I didn't pay attention the first two times.
Thanks, whoever you are up there. I will sleep well tonight.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Anyway. I had to be there at 7:30 to check in. One cool thing was the Obama people decided to send out an email to the people linked in to barackobama.com and have a food drive - by the time I got there to donate my few cans there were already 15 boxes! So that was excellent.
I stood in a very long line to get my badge, then another line for my ballot and booklet, and then went into the auditorium to sit. While I was there I saw Jori's 2nd grade teacher, a friend of Winter's mom, and our attorney! HAHA. You know you are old when the people you know have to do with your kids and not shows you went to etc.
Since voter turn out was huge everywhere, there were 5 Legislative Districts that met (it was LD and County combined, which was the first mistake they made) there were over 3000 delegates and alternates. We began to get behind schedule instantly, due to them severely underestimating the amount of time it would take to do anything with that volume of people. The agenda stated we were to get out at 1, no later, due to Passover.
To make a long bitching rant short, there was zero organization, you couldn't hear jackshit when they split us into groups, our LD had to move TWICE, and myself and a few other ladies took it upon ourselves to get the elderly members of our group situated, and it was BS that people with canes, crutches, wheelchairs etc had to be trekked up and down stairs and wooden bleachers. The process to elect state delegates was a total cluster, it was hot, we were starving and thirsty (with no food/drink allowed or even planned for in there) and by the time we got done electing delegates for the next level it was 1:30 - we hadn't even gotten to the resolutions (which there were like 15 of that we had to vote on - and it was good shit, like calling for impeachment of Bush/Cheney). I had a massive headache.
As soon as I turned in my ballot at 1:30 I had had it, I was about to go homicidal, so I bailed on the resolutions and took off. I wasn't the only one. I read this morning that so many people left that someone blew the whistle on quorum (i/e not enough voters there to make it a "real" vote) and so the resolutions didn't get passed! Which blows, but seriously, what did they think? We would sit there until 4 with no food or drink?
This was my first LD caucus, and I talked to people who were old school, and they said that this one was a bunch of crap, and they were shocked at how it all went down. I certainly won't volunteer for this again, which is sad, because I am a political diehard, and I know that if I won't volunteer, there are tons of other people that won't. Granted I've never loved a Prez candidate like I love Barack, but yeah. It was a nightmare.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
The day of the wedding was major chaos. Despite our waking up at the ass crack of dawn (4am) it was a close call getting there - security at PDX blew, and we had to practically run to make flight 1. For some retarded-ass reason we had to fly to Seattle and then to Vegas. At this point neither Dave nor I had eaten. If you've never been around Dave when he's not eaten consider yourself lucky. Mr. Mellow turns into Mr. Crabby Bitchass. Seriously, it's Jekyll/Hyde. So I got to listen to that for an hour and a half. Landed in Seattle and had to book ass again, but at least managed to grab some overpriced breakfast foods before boarding.
Got into Vegas on time, and had to wait FOREVER to stand in the rental car line. At this point Mr. Hyde was hungry again, and I wanted to choke him by the time we got to the restaurant. Instead I made him take me to the Outlet mall down the road, told him to get a massage from the place there, and get a coffee for god's sake. Then he was back to his old self.
We went to the hotel - I read on message boards that if you slip the desk clerk a $20 and ask for an upgrade you get it. Well, that tish works, so we got a kick ass renovated room on the 25th floor. At this point we were snacky, and needed to kill some time so we got some seriously awesome pastries from JJ's Boulangerie and ate them.
About an hour before the limo came to pick us up I had a major meltdown (payback for Mr. Hyde? HAHA) and freaked the hell out - I decided it was some bizarre version of cold feet that made no sense, and me freaking out over not wanting people to look at me, cause being all dressed up and walking through the hotel everyone talks to you and looks at you. Dave talked me off the ledge and we were off.
The chapel was pretty ghetto, which cracked us up, because we thought we were getting LESS ghetto than the drive thru. They made me hold these god awful fake flowers in some of the pictures, I flat out refused to carry them down the aisle. I also refused to walk down while Dave stared at me, and made him walk with me. I also told them ahead of time to leave the "obey" shit out, cause there was no way in hell I was obeying anyone. LMAO
The pastor said some sappy shit that made me all emotional, and then when he asked him "Dave, do you take this woman to be your wife, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health" blah blah he answered "I do, forever and ever." At this point I start crying like a wussy, and choke out my vows which make Dave cry like a wussy. He started it. Bastard.
Then we posed for a bunch of stupid ass photos that we knew we were gonna laugh at, and I bartered with the white trash chapel owner that tried to sell me them for $700. Ha. Joke. I went through and picked out about 20 of the 115 I actually wanted and told her I was on a budget, I only budgeted $300. Then magically the price fell to $550, then $500, and then $400, as "low as the company would allow her." I knew this was bullshit, but making sure I got the release to them I agreed to $400 and got them all on CD, in all their cheesy glory.
Then we took the limo back to the hotel, I got out of that damn merengue dress ASAP and into jeans and we went and ate at Les Artistes Steakhouse. I ordered the small cut of prime rib which was 16 oz - and I ate the whole damn thing. Hell yeah. We had super good masked potatoes with garlic and brie and mushroom. *drool*.
We wandered some casinos, gambled a little, and ended up in bed around 2.
The next two days we wandered the strip from end to end, only missing a few casinos we didn't care about. And then on day two was TOM JONES.
This is definitely one of the best shows EVER. If you haven't seen a geriatric old man air humping nothing and grabbing his crotch while he sings dirty songs to old ladies in the front row (and a few young ones - he winked at me at one point - hahaha YES!!!) you haven't lived. He played all the hits, and I laughed so hard I was bawling at one point, and trying to hide my face, because Tom Jones didn't need to see me laughing at him. Seriously though - the old man looks a mess, and moves a mess, but he can still sing like you wouldn't believe.
The flight back sucked - was major late, we got in at like 2 am, we were mega sore and bitchy, and it took us all weekend to try to reacclimate. Last night I went to bed at 8pm and slept all night and today felt relatively normal. Las Vegas will KICK YOUR ASS, people.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Apparently during this Easter Dinner of a few people discussion of the wedding reception came up, and one of the guests there was not one of the few that was invited. And is not a blood relative. Including everyone's kids the guest list including ourselves is like 35. It just so happened that the core of Dave's family were there. The crappy thing is apparently Dave's brother was voted to call Dave tonight and "just to let him know, X person is upset they didn't get an invitation" and then make small talk for 5 mins, trying to cover up the fact that they were the one voted to make the uncomfortable phone call. DO NOT DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS, PEOPLE.
This person wasn't invited for a couple of reasons. And so, I bring you a public service announcement on social etiquette!
1. If you are diagnosed with a major mental illness, it's probably not a good idea to announce this in the middle of a huge family gathering and expect for people meeting you for the first time not to think you are um, well, crazy. If you also don't talk to these people when they attempt to engage you in conversation this just reinforces the crazy thing.
2. The second time you meet your "relative's" new significant other (that is already serious, as they are cohabitating) don't ask your "relative" for their ex spouse's phone number or email because "you miss them." And don't ask this in front of the new romantic partner. This is particularly important if you don't bother to find out why the divorce happened, and that this person made their life and their children's lives a living hell, and continues to do so on a weekly basis. This point in itself is probably enough to ensure you won't get invited to THIS COUPLE'S CELEBRATION OF THEIR NEW MARRIAGE. Call the ex and badmouth them together instead, ok? You have an open invitation there, I would imagine.
3. If you didn't get invited, there is a reason. (see 1 and 2). Additional reasons for not being invited could be:
a. the bride and groom aren't wealthy, and very few people are invited (as in the Bride's family that is invited consists of thus: Mom and Stepdad. End of list. Groom's family consists of Mom and Stepdad, Dad and Stepmom, Siblings and their children, Grandma and Grandpa who can't come anyway but want to see the invitation. End of list. No stepsiblings on either side. No cousins on either side. No aunts/uncles on either side. Next on the invite list: those friends that are the "core" as in have always been supportive of said union and talk to/hang out with the bride and groom on a regular basis.)
b. you haven't talked to the bride OR groom, since you asked for the groom's ex-wifes contact info over 2 years ago
c. the bride and groom cringe, wondering what the hell you will blurt out during the reception because you obviously have no restraint whatsoever
While we're at it, and I'm talking about the SOCIALLY RETARDED, the following (unrelated) social etiquette rules should also be abided by:
1. Never ask someone if their girlfriend is pregnant when you hear that they are moving in. The above mentioned ex-wife snidely assumed I was knocked up when Dave, as a courtesy, let her know I moved in. She's lucky she wasn't in the room when I heard this, or she would have eaten my fist.
2. Never ask someone when the baby is due unless you actually see the baby exiting the woman's body. Even if the woman is shopping in a baby store. Even if her stomach is the size of the Titanic. This has never happened to me, but I've witnessed it, and friends, it is UGLY. I'm just sayin'.
3. Never ask someone when they are going to get around to having kids. They may hate kids (like Jay) or be unable to have kids, or just don't want them. Either way, it's none of your damn business who is a breeder and who isn't. Mind your own uterus.
And with that, I think my rant is over, having taken out my frustration on my keyboard.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
This is the result:
Average: 2.6 lives lost per day
Iraqi Security Forces and Iraqi Civilian Deaths:
8027 Security Forces
TOTAL LIVES LOST: 53,184
This does not take into account the suffering of those wounded mentally and physically, the marriages that have failed as a result of these stresses, and the children that have had their lives turned upside down as a result.
(numbers from http://icasualties.org/oif/)
This is part of what my candidate for President had to say about today’s tragic anniversary:
"Five years ago today, President George W. Bush launched a war that should never have been authorized based on faulty premises and bad intelligence.This war has now lasted longer than World War I, World War II, or the Civil War. Nearly four thousand Americans have given their lives. Thousands more have been wounded. Even under the best-case scenarios, this war will cost American taxpayers well over a trillion dollars.And where are we for all of this sacrifice?
We are less safe and less able to shape events abroad. We are divided at home, and our alliances around the world have been strained. The threats of a new century have roiled the waters of peace and stability, and yet America remains anchored in Iraq.
I am running for President because it’s time to turn the page on a failed ideology and a fundamentally flawed political strategy, so that we can make pragmatic judgments to keep our country safe.
That’s what I did when I stood up and opposed this war from the start and said that we needed to finish the fight against al Qaeda. And that’s what I’ll do as President of the United States.
Please take a few minutes to read my strategy for ending the war in Iraq and making America safer. I hope you will sign on and show your support:
Here are the core elements of my strategy to address our critical national security challenges in the 21st century:
End the war in Iraq, removing our troops at a pace of 1 to 2 combat brigades per month;
Finally finish the fight against the Taliban, root out al Qaeda and invest in the people of Afghanistan and Pakistan, while making aid to the Pakistani government conditional;
Act aggressively to stop nuclear proliferation and to secure all loose nuclear materials around the world;
Double our foreign assistance to cut extreme poverty in half;
Invest in a clean energy future to wean the U.S. off of foreign oil and to lead the world against the threat of global climate change;
Rebuild our military capability by increasing the number of soldiers, marines, and special forces troops, and insist on adequate training and time off between deployments;
Renew American diplomacy by talking to our adversaries as well as our friends; increasing the size of the Foreign Service and the Peace Corps; and creating an America’s Voice Corps. "
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BRING THEM HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Having a mini meltdown, thinking we could not marry in April, was only a taste of what it must be like to be gay/lesbian and not have your chosen life partner legally recognized. And it dawned on me that even though Dave and I would be able to have whatever kind of non-legal ceremony we wanted, the fact that we felt so horrible (and I know I have friends who feel this frustration too) when it seemed out of our reach put it in perspective - I don't believe having the freedom to marry and having the freedom to be domestic partners if you are GLBT are the same thing.
So because of this, we switched wedding chapels. There will still be a limo, still be photos, but there is no drive through. Feeling how we felt last week also reminded me that marrying Dave wasn't a joke to me, and I felt the need to at least do it with a little bit of class - even though it's just him and I.
We are still marrying at 7pm April 1st - we are just doing it in a place where all people are welcomed. Because equality is what we believe in.
Also, we signed the papers on our house today - inspection is Tuesday and closing is April 30. Sounds like my goal of owning a home by age 30 is happening.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Today was the WA Caucus... Barack is going to take WA... my precinct had 8 delegates that will go on to County and Legislature - 6 of them are Obama 2 Clinton - I am one of the six... the Obama rep that was up from Portland asked me to talk to my peeps about Barack and I did. People asked me if I worked for the Obama campaign and asked me where to get Obama supplies... only little old ladies voted for Clinton in my precint...hahahahah. Talked to other precints and he was ahead there too, he's sweeping Seattle, he will take WA, babies!!!
This delegate thing means I get to keep voting for him in bigger elections, and if I keep getting elected again as a delegate I can go to Olympia, if I make it past Olympia I can go to the DNC BABY!!! It all depends on how hard I push for it, where the work status is, and travel expenses etc etc...
It's safe to say I'm completely fucking stoked. And DAVE is an alternate delegate! Woot woot! Woot woot!
*EDIT CNN JUST CALLED WA AND LA FOR BARACK!!
Friday, February 8, 2008
You may think that taking an hour out of your busy life just isn't possible. But I really truly believe that you can't afford NOT to attend a caucus. If work is an issue, employers are legally required to grant time off for voting and caucusing. You have no excuse not to be there tomorrow!
Those of you that know me well know that I'm politically active, and have been in the past, but this time - it is different! The importance is paramount!
It's no secret that I'm a Barack Obama supporter. I still remember exactly when I decided that he was the one that should be leading us. I was sitting in It's A Beautiful Pizza down on Belmont in Portland, watching the DNC. He came on and delivered that powerful, moving speech, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that several people in that room had tears in their eyes, myself included. I said out loud "Oh my god, that man needs to be President. What was his name again?"
I watched him grow and be elected to the Illinois Senate. I watched his voting record, and his speeches. From day one he was MY candidate. And throughout the years this feeling has only increased. I wasn't the only one. He was essentially drafted, by all of us. We asked him to serve, and he's heeding the call.
The media is doing a really good job now of mocking the Obama campaign. They love to paint us as a bunch of touchy feely liberals with our heads in the clouds. What they didn't count on was raising 32 million dollars in one month, with zero contributions from lobbyists or special interests. It came from people like you, and me, and my fiance, who contributed to a political campaign for the first time in his life. It came from single moms, who are so concerned about the future that they send off the only spare money they have because they believe in change, and they believe in hope.
The media tells me that because I am white and I am a woman that I am or should be a Hillary Clinton voter. As a feminist and a person I find it extremely offensive that there is an assumption that I should vote for her simply because she's a woman. This is as offensive as a man stating he won't vote for her because she's a woman. If you believe in what Hillary Clinton has to say, male, female, black, white whoever you are then vote for her.
I refuse to believe that simply because of her gender she has earned the White House, and I refuse to believe that just because of her gender she will truly provide us the change we desperately need.
Before you cast your caucus vote, I'd like to ask you to do a little research. Yes, you can start at Barackobama.com and Hillaryclinton.com, but obviously those sites are political propaganda. Don't stop there. Research voting records. Research where their campaign money comes from. Check out moveon.org and Fact Check. What you find might surprise you.
It might surprise you to see that a lot of Hillary's money comes from lobbyists, and even donations from those in the middle east, from political leaders who try to keep women as second class citizens. Check out where Bill Clinton has been getting donations from over there.
It also might surprise you to learn that Hillary voted to give President Bush carte blanche over the situation in Iraq. In contrast, Barack voted completely against the war from day one. The Clinton campaign tries to twist this, stating that he voted to fund the war later. What Barack voted for, after the war had begun, was to better equip the troops that were already over there. Do some research about how they would handle difficult foreign politics. It will shock you how different their strategies are.
Hillary's number one issue is Universal Healthcare. Are you aware that those that would be unable to afford the co-payments for health care and therefore refuse to sign up will be fined? Check out what's happening in Massachusetts for an idea of how this will play out, and how it's harming not only low income people but middle class Americans as well. Barack believes in offering healthcare to everyone, on a sliding scale, believing that if health insurance is in a person's reach, they will choose to purchase it. He believes we are smart enough to make our own choices without being bullied.
Check out the amount of money the Clinton campaign has received from healthcare companies, and then think about how that plays into her Universal Health Care plan.
I could go on all day about the inconsistencies in what Hillary does and says, but ultimately voting is a very personal decision. I sincerely hope that you are concerned enough about our country to make an informed choice. Do it for your kids, or other people's kids, or your grandpa that lives off of social security and can't afford his medicine, or your cousin that is still over in Iraq on his 4th tour and his marriage is falling apart. Do it for the schools, and hospitals, and the economy. Do it because you give a damn.
VOTE FOR CHANGE! This is OUR campaign! OWN IT!