My uterus is raging. It's set for every 28 days then it goes off, screeching BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP and nothing can turn it off. I've tried every darned trick in the book. Medications, herbal remedies, hot tea, caffeine, hot baths, heating pads, self-mutiliation, suicide. Nothing works.
I've set myself a limit. If in one hour from the moment I took 500mg of mefenamic acid (so strong it's illegal in the United States), my uteral alarm clock is still screeching BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP then I am going home. I am marching - ok, dragging - myself down the corridor, straight into my bosses' office and telling them - something. That's the awkward part. That's why I never go home when my uterus is throwing a birthday party. What am I to tell my friendly-but-weird man boss at this point?
I have 40 minutes to wait. Typically, this medicine kicks in about 15 minutes after ingestion, though of late it's been taking more like 30. (Could it be that my body is adapting to the powerful painkillers the way it adapts to cocaine or heroin?) Last time it never kicked in, but it was late in the afternoon and I saw no reason to embarrass myself as in the above scenario when I could just wait it out for another hour.
But it is 9:20 in the morning, and I'm sweating profusely and I'm bunched over in my chair, typing at a 90? angle, with my skin raised in millions of tiny chill bumps and my uterus still screeching BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP YOU AREN'T PREGNANT BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Monday, August 22, 2005
Saturday, August 20, 2005
I Am Going Crazy
My new computer should have been here at LEAST 5 hours ago, and I'm going stir crazy. Can't go out 'til it arrives, don't know if it WILL arrive, want to kill the world, especially MESH computers who cut me off twice while trying to transfer me, told me:
"It'll be there AM, definitely." - Friday.
"In the next hour or so." - 11AM.
"Should be before 2." - 12PM.
"Usually 3 to 4 on a Saturday." - 2PM.
"Hold on, it was sent out on Wednesday." - 2.01PM.
"Oh, no it wasn't, I'm just tired and didn't read that properly." - 2.02PM.
"There's no supervisor here." - 3PM.
"We can't track the delivery, they don't work on Saturdays at their office." - 4PM.
"At the very latest, it'll be before 6." - 4.30PM.
Well, I'm demanding my delivery fee back. I'm demanding compensation for wasting my whole day. I'm being very angry and shouty at whatever supervisor I get to talk to.
But, apparently, I'm not getting my computer. They now have 55 minutes before they finish delivering for the day. I have no confidence that is going to get here at all.
The ironic thing is, I've been praising MESH for their customer service. It's been great! They just choose a firm of chumps for the delivery.
GAH.
"It'll be there AM, definitely." - Friday.
"In the next hour or so." - 11AM.
"Should be before 2." - 12PM.
"Usually 3 to 4 on a Saturday." - 2PM.
"Hold on, it was sent out on Wednesday." - 2.01PM.
"Oh, no it wasn't, I'm just tired and didn't read that properly." - 2.02PM.
"There's no supervisor here." - 3PM.
"We can't track the delivery, they don't work on Saturdays at their office." - 4PM.
"At the very latest, it'll be before 6." - 4.30PM.
Well, I'm demanding my delivery fee back. I'm demanding compensation for wasting my whole day. I'm being very angry and shouty at whatever supervisor I get to talk to.
But, apparently, I'm not getting my computer. They now have 55 minutes before they finish delivering for the day. I have no confidence that is going to get here at all.
The ironic thing is, I've been praising MESH for their customer service. It's been great! They just choose a firm of chumps for the delivery.
GAH.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Sorry To Steal The Blog-Light
Sorry to take over from your post, Lori.
I thought that I should share with everyone that from the 20th of September, I shall once more be a student. I'm cutting my hours at work down to 25 and taking a computing degree at Paisley University.
The cool thing is, it's not your bog standard computing degree. It is:
COMPUTER GAMES TECHNOLOGY.
I've wanted to do this since I was nine or something, and my mum taught me how to programme noughts and crosses on the Spectrum. I almost went to do it when I was 16, but couldn't afford to move to Dundee (the only course in Scotland was there at that point).
Now there is a convenient Uni a few miles away. I'm talking with my manager about my hours tomorrow (let's hope it goes well), calling the Uni at lunch time and asking them to send me out an offer (they've already agreed in principle over my school grades) and generally feeling weird. I'll be working full time for another month, then my hours will drop.
Here goes nothing.
I have a theory: the guys will be jealous, the girls will think it's silly ;).
I thought that I should share with everyone that from the 20th of September, I shall once more be a student. I'm cutting my hours at work down to 25 and taking a computing degree at Paisley University.
The cool thing is, it's not your bog standard computing degree. It is:
COMPUTER GAMES TECHNOLOGY.
I've wanted to do this since I was nine or something, and my mum taught me how to programme noughts and crosses on the Spectrum. I almost went to do it when I was 16, but couldn't afford to move to Dundee (the only course in Scotland was there at that point).
Now there is a convenient Uni a few miles away. I'm talking with my manager about my hours tomorrow (let's hope it goes well), calling the Uni at lunch time and asking them to send me out an offer (they've already agreed in principle over my school grades) and generally feeling weird. I'll be working full time for another month, then my hours will drop.
Here goes nothing.
I have a theory: the guys will be jealous, the girls will think it's silly ;).
Toilet Talk
One of the most frustrating things about this place in the summer is having to walk down the long corridor of the building every time I need to go to the bathroom, when I know there is a bathroom directly outside the reception desk which is closed off by a big metal gate.
It's not just the walk, either, that exasperates me. The bathroom on the other end of the building is a public bathroom with five stalls. The one by my desk is a large, single disabled bathroom. It's been an issue of mine my whole life to need to do my business in privacy. I just don't like other people being around. Bathroom business is highly personal and undignified. I don't want perfect strangers, or worse, people I see every day, to experience the experience with me. Not unless we have a whole lot of friendship, and even then it's doubtful that I'd trust you in the bathroom with me. Needless to say, I've never been one of these bathroom-buddy girls who invite all their friends and make-up to the toilet with them.
So call me lazy, call me immature, call me what you will, but I just really can't stand the inconvenience of it all. And it's not just a once or twice a day thing. I drink tea like it's oxygen, and we all know tea doesn't rhyme with pee by mere coicidence.
It's a ridiculous paranoia, I know, but I still can't get out of my head the words of the former Miss Arkansas, Whitney Kirk, from eleventh grade saying that so-and-so was so unclass for going #2 in a public bathroom. I've never been able to shake the belief that all the refined people in the world agree that this is shameful. Combine that with my already ridiculous timidity to dispel any kind of bodily waste in a public place, and you'll understand why I need that metal gate open.
There's just something so not right about people hearing you on the toilet. You'll find if I visit your home, and your bathroom is relatively close to the room in which your guests are convening, you will hear the faucet come on and, after a minute, the toilet flush. This is my mask, this is what I hide my business behind. I believe the faucet must drown out the sound of pee, and if it doesn't, please don't tell me, I don't want to know. But if you were wondering why I was washing my hands for so long, well, just don't.
I think that's enough talk about waste products for today. Funny. I won't go in front of you, but I'll sure tell you all about it on my blog.
Hehe, blog. Kinda sounds like a potty word, itself. Blog.
It's not just the walk, either, that exasperates me. The bathroom on the other end of the building is a public bathroom with five stalls. The one by my desk is a large, single disabled bathroom. It's been an issue of mine my whole life to need to do my business in privacy. I just don't like other people being around. Bathroom business is highly personal and undignified. I don't want perfect strangers, or worse, people I see every day, to experience the experience with me. Not unless we have a whole lot of friendship, and even then it's doubtful that I'd trust you in the bathroom with me. Needless to say, I've never been one of these bathroom-buddy girls who invite all their friends and make-up to the toilet with them.
So call me lazy, call me immature, call me what you will, but I just really can't stand the inconvenience of it all. And it's not just a once or twice a day thing. I drink tea like it's oxygen, and we all know tea doesn't rhyme with pee by mere coicidence.
It's a ridiculous paranoia, I know, but I still can't get out of my head the words of the former Miss Arkansas, Whitney Kirk, from eleventh grade saying that so-and-so was so unclass for going #2 in a public bathroom. I've never been able to shake the belief that all the refined people in the world agree that this is shameful. Combine that with my already ridiculous timidity to dispel any kind of bodily waste in a public place, and you'll understand why I need that metal gate open.
There's just something so not right about people hearing you on the toilet. You'll find if I visit your home, and your bathroom is relatively close to the room in which your guests are convening, you will hear the faucet come on and, after a minute, the toilet flush. This is my mask, this is what I hide my business behind. I believe the faucet must drown out the sound of pee, and if it doesn't, please don't tell me, I don't want to know. But if you were wondering why I was washing my hands for so long, well, just don't.
I think that's enough talk about waste products for today. Funny. I won't go in front of you, but I'll sure tell you all about it on my blog.
Hehe, blog. Kinda sounds like a potty word, itself. Blog.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Novels in the Hands of Hollywood
It just drives me mad when people think a movie based on a book is amazing and perfect and genius, without having ever read the book, or worse, when the movie deters starkly away from the book. I hate it when directors get all the acclaim for a movie-based-on-a-book, and no one gives any credit to the guy who wrote the book in the first place.
Ok, so I'm being completely over the top here because there are many movies out there that I didn't/don't know were books first. No one can help that, no one can know everything.
But it still drives me nuts to know how good a book is, and then have everyone give radical acclaim to the movie - does no one read anymore?
What has started this rampage for me is A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, later cinematised by Stanley Kubrick. I'm currently reading A Clockwork Orange and it's an incredible experience. It's full of uncommon and often nonsensical language that must be decoded. It's got very serious direction and motivation and message, as well as a Lolita-like reader manipulation. Though it apparently was never Burgess's favourite novel (one he, in fact, wishes were not his most popular), it is an incredibly well thought-out, clear and absolutely appalling novel. It kinda gets you in the guttiwuts, real horrorshow.
Now, I have no problem with novels being turned into films, per se. Though I think it most often ruins the book (which is annoying, but more depressingly, it usually sends the book into Book Oblivion for the mass public), it can often be done well, and it makes an interesting supplement after the book is read. And I'm not gonna lie, the movies were often enormous lifesavers in high school when I'd never gotten around to reading the book before test day.
And as far as A Clockwork Orange is concerned, the movie was interesting and disgusting and equally manipulative (which is evident from all the moronic IMDB comments saying, "totally awesome gang rapes and neat fights!" "This film is my all-time favorite because it's so awesome and Alex is so sweet and crazy!".) Now, it's been years since I've seen the movie, thankfully, for I am able to read the book without seeing Malcolm McDowell's face on fifteen year old Alex (what was up with that anyway, sending in a man to do a boy's job?). But the truth is, Kubrick took his movie far from the direction of the book, even changing the ending, which by far is the worst cinematic crime one can commit against a book, though to be fair, he was using the US release of the book for his screenplay which also changed the ending, much to Burgess's chagrin, because Burgess's ending was ironically too "optimistic", and Kubrick didn't even realise there was another version out there with the original ending, which in my opinion is far more pessimistic than the new ending - but I won't give anything else away - and I believe this is unfair to the man who wrote the book in the first place.
But this happens all the time. What drives me the most nuts isn't so much this in and of itself, because it is almost always the way it goes when novels-go-movie. What annoys me is when people go absolutely bananas over the movie, calling it "genius", "perfect", "the most brilliant film of all time", when it's not an accurate adaptation of the original novel or even the filmmaker's to begin with! Kubrick wasn't genius because he directed A Clockwork Orange - the best parts of the movie are the parts directly quoted from the book. Kubrick was a genius because of many other things, almost completely cinemagraphic, but not because of the story of A Clockwork Orange. He didn't do that, people. Another less poplular guy did that. Can we give the poor penniless writer some credit, please?
Ok, so I think I'm over my little tyrade now. I just had to get that off my chest. I love books; defending them is like defending my mother or little brother.
Ok, so I'm being completely over the top here because there are many movies out there that I didn't/don't know were books first. No one can help that, no one can know everything.
But it still drives me nuts to know how good a book is, and then have everyone give radical acclaim to the movie - does no one read anymore?
What has started this rampage for me is A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, later cinematised by Stanley Kubrick. I'm currently reading A Clockwork Orange and it's an incredible experience. It's full of uncommon and often nonsensical language that must be decoded. It's got very serious direction and motivation and message, as well as a Lolita-like reader manipulation. Though it apparently was never Burgess's favourite novel (one he, in fact, wishes were not his most popular), it is an incredibly well thought-out, clear and absolutely appalling novel. It kinda gets you in the guttiwuts, real horrorshow.
Now, I have no problem with novels being turned into films, per se. Though I think it most often ruins the book (which is annoying, but more depressingly, it usually sends the book into Book Oblivion for the mass public), it can often be done well, and it makes an interesting supplement after the book is read. And I'm not gonna lie, the movies were often enormous lifesavers in high school when I'd never gotten around to reading the book before test day.
And as far as A Clockwork Orange is concerned, the movie was interesting and disgusting and equally manipulative (which is evident from all the moronic IMDB comments saying, "totally awesome gang rapes and neat fights!" "This film is my all-time favorite because it's so awesome and Alex is so sweet and crazy!".) Now, it's been years since I've seen the movie, thankfully, for I am able to read the book without seeing Malcolm McDowell's face on fifteen year old Alex (what was up with that anyway, sending in a man to do a boy's job?). But the truth is, Kubrick took his movie far from the direction of the book, even changing the ending, which by far is the worst cinematic crime one can commit against a book, though to be fair, he was using the US release of the book for his screenplay which also changed the ending, much to Burgess's chagrin, because Burgess's ending was ironically too "optimistic", and Kubrick didn't even realise there was another version out there with the original ending, which in my opinion is far more pessimistic than the new ending - but I won't give anything else away - and I believe this is unfair to the man who wrote the book in the first place.
But this happens all the time. What drives me the most nuts isn't so much this in and of itself, because it is almost always the way it goes when novels-go-movie. What annoys me is when people go absolutely bananas over the movie, calling it "genius", "perfect", "the most brilliant film of all time", when it's not an accurate adaptation of the original novel or even the filmmaker's to begin with! Kubrick wasn't genius because he directed A Clockwork Orange - the best parts of the movie are the parts directly quoted from the book. Kubrick was a genius because of many other things, almost completely cinemagraphic, but not because of the story of A Clockwork Orange. He didn't do that, people. Another less poplular guy did that. Can we give the poor penniless writer some credit, please?
Ok, so I think I'm over my little tyrade now. I just had to get that off my chest. I love books; defending them is like defending my mother or little brother.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Autumn Leaves and Dandelions
I'm afraid I might bore you or let you down if I explain my oh-so-poetic title. :) Quickly, it's my choices for the magazine cover- either an autumn leaf motif or a dandelion motif. And I'm irritated that this printer isn't working because I want to show the two possible covers around for everyone to give an opinion on.
Other than that, all that boring work stuff....
I'm having a wee barby in a couple of weeks at our place. Technically, we are having a wee barby, but it's mostly me who's planning it. Scott doesn't really like to plan, and I do, so I've happily put the whole thing together. Unfortunately, two friends of ours who have a tiny little baby (he's actually not tiny any more) can't make it, but hopefully the rest of the invitees will. It's fun having friends. I suppose the longer it takes to find them just means that the ones you've found are ones that were worth finding. It takes a bit of searching, but it's worth it in the end.
I have to say I feel really blessed these days. Lots of things fall short but God has been good and faithful to me and us even so. Living in Scotland is very hard sometimes, and sometimes I think I'd be happier going back to Arkansas, but it's also been very rewarding and character-building. It's also been great for mine and Scott's relationship. I feel that we have a bond that strenghtens every day that nothing will ever be able to break. He's really the other half of me. I hardly feel like a separate being from him at all.
But as I was saying, I do feel blessed. I feel tried and broken, too. But many things have been given me that I don't deserve, and I am so grateful for it all. I have a good job which is stable, entertaining, challenging and well-paid. I am making friendships that I'm beginning to think could last a lifetime. I have a house that is becoming a home. And of course, the greatest earthly gift of all is the wonderful husband that God clearly made just for me. But the thing that exceeds all good things in my life is the Lord Jesus who died to save me from myself. Sometimes I let this become an idea that is more intellectual than personal, but the truth is, this is the most amazing thing of all - that the one and only God, perfect, full of justice and holy, wanted me.
Which, by the way, is one of the most touching things about marriage - how marriage is a dim, dusty picture of what God's love is like. In the way that I am absolutely bedazzled that Scott would ever want me, I am all the more, countlessly more, astounded that God would ever want me. He knows me even more than Scott, and He's even greater than Scott, and he wants me.
So anyway, I'm happy.
Other than that, all that boring work stuff....
I'm having a wee barby in a couple of weeks at our place. Technically, we are having a wee barby, but it's mostly me who's planning it. Scott doesn't really like to plan, and I do, so I've happily put the whole thing together. Unfortunately, two friends of ours who have a tiny little baby (he's actually not tiny any more) can't make it, but hopefully the rest of the invitees will. It's fun having friends. I suppose the longer it takes to find them just means that the ones you've found are ones that were worth finding. It takes a bit of searching, but it's worth it in the end.
I have to say I feel really blessed these days. Lots of things fall short but God has been good and faithful to me and us even so. Living in Scotland is very hard sometimes, and sometimes I think I'd be happier going back to Arkansas, but it's also been very rewarding and character-building. It's also been great for mine and Scott's relationship. I feel that we have a bond that strenghtens every day that nothing will ever be able to break. He's really the other half of me. I hardly feel like a separate being from him at all.
But as I was saying, I do feel blessed. I feel tried and broken, too. But many things have been given me that I don't deserve, and I am so grateful for it all. I have a good job which is stable, entertaining, challenging and well-paid. I am making friendships that I'm beginning to think could last a lifetime. I have a house that is becoming a home. And of course, the greatest earthly gift of all is the wonderful husband that God clearly made just for me. But the thing that exceeds all good things in my life is the Lord Jesus who died to save me from myself. Sometimes I let this become an idea that is more intellectual than personal, but the truth is, this is the most amazing thing of all - that the one and only God, perfect, full of justice and holy, wanted me.
Which, by the way, is one of the most touching things about marriage - how marriage is a dim, dusty picture of what God's love is like. In the way that I am absolutely bedazzled that Scott would ever want me, I am all the more, countlessly more, astounded that God would ever want me. He knows me even more than Scott, and He's even greater than Scott, and he wants me.
So anyway, I'm happy.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Better Homes and Gardens
If you're wondering why we aren't paying enough attention to our blog, it's because we've been paying a lot of attention to our house.
We've decided to stay in this place another year which meant for us that some things just had to be done in order to stand it. We realised it won't be costing us a lot to do some small fixer-uppers so we've begun a tiny redecorating project.
We painted the bathroom yesterday. It was painted a horrible 70s shade of peach, which after 30-odd years has developed some disgusting stains and water damage. We painted it "soothing white" which is actually almost blue, but it instantly looked like a new room. It looked clean for the first time since we moved in. After that, we decided the old mirror, trash bin, towel rack and toilet roll dispenser (also in that shade of peach, plastic) had to go, so we replaced them with shiny chrome features, except for the mirror which we just bought an inexpensive wooden medicine cabinet instead, since the chrome ones were more expensive than we intended to spend on a rented house. I cleaned off the counter space by putting loads of crap in the medicine cabinet, and the place looks like new. Except for the 70s style pink and burgundy rose tiles in the shower, which Scott actually likes because of all the weird shapes. So to work with the pink, I added a pink vase for decoration, and voila! I'm not ashamed of the bathroom anymore.
The other big redecoration project we are attempting is to replace the disgusting carpet in the house with hard wood flooring. I know, I know, it sounds like a big, expensive thing to do to a home you are only renting. We think so a bit, too. But considering the vast difference it will make to our respiratory systems and the germ count (not to mention, our happiness) we are going to go for it. Scott's dad will lay it all for us so it's just a matter of picking a flooring out (one that isn't too dear) and moving the furniture out of his way. He'll do it while we're at work to save the well-being of Scott's lungs.
Other than that, we've just been rearranging furniture, adding "bold accents" (thank you, Ideal Home for all your ideas) and so on. I feel probably 200x happier here now. I feel like I have a home, a place where people can come visit without dying of strange 70s era diseases, a haven.
I'm a happy lady.
We've decided to stay in this place another year which meant for us that some things just had to be done in order to stand it. We realised it won't be costing us a lot to do some small fixer-uppers so we've begun a tiny redecorating project.
We painted the bathroom yesterday. It was painted a horrible 70s shade of peach, which after 30-odd years has developed some disgusting stains and water damage. We painted it "soothing white" which is actually almost blue, but it instantly looked like a new room. It looked clean for the first time since we moved in. After that, we decided the old mirror, trash bin, towel rack and toilet roll dispenser (also in that shade of peach, plastic) had to go, so we replaced them with shiny chrome features, except for the mirror which we just bought an inexpensive wooden medicine cabinet instead, since the chrome ones were more expensive than we intended to spend on a rented house. I cleaned off the counter space by putting loads of crap in the medicine cabinet, and the place looks like new. Except for the 70s style pink and burgundy rose tiles in the shower, which Scott actually likes because of all the weird shapes. So to work with the pink, I added a pink vase for decoration, and voila! I'm not ashamed of the bathroom anymore.
The other big redecoration project we are attempting is to replace the disgusting carpet in the house with hard wood flooring. I know, I know, it sounds like a big, expensive thing to do to a home you are only renting. We think so a bit, too. But considering the vast difference it will make to our respiratory systems and the germ count (not to mention, our happiness) we are going to go for it. Scott's dad will lay it all for us so it's just a matter of picking a flooring out (one that isn't too dear) and moving the furniture out of his way. He'll do it while we're at work to save the well-being of Scott's lungs.
Other than that, we've just been rearranging furniture, adding "bold accents" (thank you, Ideal Home for all your ideas) and so on. I feel probably 200x happier here now. I feel like I have a home, a place where people can come visit without dying of strange 70s era diseases, a haven.
I'm a happy lady.
Monday, August 08, 2005
The Orange Duo
We've been really bad bloggers lately, we know. We apologise. We've been quite busyfied.
Today's post won't be much.
Tonight we are going to Edinburgh, as mentioned already to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players. It ought to be good.
Scott had to grab a change of clothes before he left the house today. He almost forgot. I yelled to him not to bring his orange shirt because I'm wearing an orange shirt and I didn't want to be The Orange McFarlane Duo. He didn't grab the orange shirt luckily because he'd worn in the day before.
My body is so confused over all this traveling. My skin in particular. Hard water, soft water, hard water, soft water... It's throwing a fit. My hair ain't happy, either. Of course, it goes without saying that I don't know when is nighttime and when is day. My body can't go to sleep, and it can't wake up.
I'm dead busy at work - so is Scott. And I have a million things I want to do and a million people I want to see. I need to take a pen home with me so I can write out lists on the train. Writing lists makes me feel more organised and more in order, but I always lose the lists soon thereafter. They really do me no good. I need to make a People-To-Have-Over-For-Dinner-And-A-Board-Game List, People-To-Phone List, Bills-To-Pay List and of course, the never-ending Things-To-Do List. At work I'm currently finishing up the magazine - a feat I didn't think I could possibly accomplish, but I am nearing the end now with great pride - and I'm updating the Intranet to be back in full swing by the time teachers come back for their in-service days. I'd post the site for you to peruse, but obviously, it's an intranet not an internet so I can't. When the actual school website goes up (which will also feature my textual prowess) I will post it for your viewing pleasure.
Our living room is looking darned good. One more CD tower to build and we're laughin'. We'll invite you all over soon. You're all on my PTHOFDAABG List. (Ok, not all of you, but I wish I could invite you all. Except the crazies who have landed here because they've searched for something like "Big Granny Diapers" and have somehow landed here.)
Anyway, I'm leaving work in half an hour so I need to get some more stuff done. As busy as I am, I just felt the need to give you your daily dose of Scott and Lori. Which reminds me of a church sign I saw yesterday which will make a delightful ending to this spoon-of-medicine post:
"The best vitamin for a Christian is B1"
Today's post won't be much.
Tonight we are going to Edinburgh, as mentioned already to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players. It ought to be good.
Scott had to grab a change of clothes before he left the house today. He almost forgot. I yelled to him not to bring his orange shirt because I'm wearing an orange shirt and I didn't want to be The Orange McFarlane Duo. He didn't grab the orange shirt luckily because he'd worn in the day before.
My body is so confused over all this traveling. My skin in particular. Hard water, soft water, hard water, soft water... It's throwing a fit. My hair ain't happy, either. Of course, it goes without saying that I don't know when is nighttime and when is day. My body can't go to sleep, and it can't wake up.
I'm dead busy at work - so is Scott. And I have a million things I want to do and a million people I want to see. I need to take a pen home with me so I can write out lists on the train. Writing lists makes me feel more organised and more in order, but I always lose the lists soon thereafter. They really do me no good. I need to make a People-To-Have-Over-For-Dinner-And-A-Board-Game List, People-To-Phone List, Bills-To-Pay List and of course, the never-ending Things-To-Do List. At work I'm currently finishing up the magazine - a feat I didn't think I could possibly accomplish, but I am nearing the end now with great pride - and I'm updating the Intranet to be back in full swing by the time teachers come back for their in-service days. I'd post the site for you to peruse, but obviously, it's an intranet not an internet so I can't. When the actual school website goes up (which will also feature my textual prowess) I will post it for your viewing pleasure.
Our living room is looking darned good. One more CD tower to build and we're laughin'. We'll invite you all over soon. You're all on my PTHOFDAABG List. (Ok, not all of you, but I wish I could invite you all. Except the crazies who have landed here because they've searched for something like "Big Granny Diapers" and have somehow landed here.)
Anyway, I'm leaving work in half an hour so I need to get some more stuff done. As busy as I am, I just felt the need to give you your daily dose of Scott and Lori. Which reminds me of a church sign I saw yesterday which will make a delightful ending to this spoon-of-medicine post:
"The best vitamin for a Christian is B1"
Saturday, August 06, 2005
IKEAfied
We've made a couple of trips to the glorious IKEA in the past week, and our house is looking darned good. Scott is building our new TV bench which matches our new bookcases and CD towers and our old coffee table and nesting tables. It's gonna look good in here.
Tonight we are going over to Graeme and Emily's for dinner. I like having a friend.
Monday we are going to Edinburgh to see Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players with Jonathan and Sarah. We haven't seen them in ages. I look forward to it. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival starts next week, too, so I'm gonna get Scott to take me down there for a weekend o' fun.
Sorry for the lack of posting. We're still jet-lagged.
Sorry for the lack of continuity in this post. We're still jet-lagged.
Scott and I both got new computers. (You'd think we were rich, talking the way I am. We are what Scott's mum called "DINKY"s - double income no kids yet.) I got a laptop, and he got a desktop. Of course, we share, but they are ours individually. :) My laptop has already come in handy; I've written a couple of poems in my bed like I used to. It's good news. And Scott's desktop is full of the latest gagdets and gizmos.
I'm gonna go clean the kitchen before I leave. Emily, being all new to the housewife thing, is upstaging me in cleanliness, and I feel competitive.
Tonight we are going over to Graeme and Emily's for dinner. I like having a friend.
Monday we are going to Edinburgh to see Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players with Jonathan and Sarah. We haven't seen them in ages. I look forward to it. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival starts next week, too, so I'm gonna get Scott to take me down there for a weekend o' fun.
Sorry for the lack of posting. We're still jet-lagged.
Sorry for the lack of continuity in this post. We're still jet-lagged.
Scott and I both got new computers. (You'd think we were rich, talking the way I am. We are what Scott's mum called "DINKY"s - double income no kids yet.) I got a laptop, and he got a desktop. Of course, we share, but they are ours individually. :) My laptop has already come in handy; I've written a couple of poems in my bed like I used to. It's good news. And Scott's desktop is full of the latest gagdets and gizmos.
I'm gonna go clean the kitchen before I leave. Emily, being all new to the housewife thing, is upstaging me in cleanliness, and I feel competitive.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
We're Ba-ack
Well, we arrived safely back to Greenock on Sunday afternoon. Scott was back to work on Monday, and I went back to work today. I'm beat. I still feel a bit disoriented being back in the UK. I'm driving like an American maniac, I'm smiling at the wrong people, and I'm taking the wrong things to work. And I'm punctuating in American grammar (see comma before the "and" in the previous sentence.)
It's good to be back, but I really loved being home. Driving back from the airport, I gazed at the scenery around me - the river, the mountains across the river, the skyline - and I knew I was home. But I miss the heat and the vastness and the starry night skies of Arkansas. And I miss the family and friends. I didn't get to spend nearly as much time with people as I hoped. However, it felt good to be back here with my other family, and I look forward to seeing my friends here, like Debbie and Niall and Graeme and Emily (who is finally here!)
Things I will always miss about Arkansas while in Scotland:
* the sound of crickets and cicadas all night and day
* good ol' Southern family barbeques - okra, houseflies and all
* hot summers, cold winters, perfect springs and falls
* JR's Lightbulb Club
* the landscape along I-540
Things I will always miss about Scotland while in Arkansas:
* crisp, jumper-perfect air
* the mountains across the river
* the comforting, cozy atmosphere
* the sound of the Scottish brogue all around me
* mince pie and beans
Friends, keep in touch. (This means you, Chris and Lincoln.)
It's good to be back, but I really loved being home. Driving back from the airport, I gazed at the scenery around me - the river, the mountains across the river, the skyline - and I knew I was home. But I miss the heat and the vastness and the starry night skies of Arkansas. And I miss the family and friends. I didn't get to spend nearly as much time with people as I hoped. However, it felt good to be back here with my other family, and I look forward to seeing my friends here, like Debbie and Niall and Graeme and Emily (who is finally here!)
Things I will always miss about Arkansas while in Scotland:
* the sound of crickets and cicadas all night and day
* good ol' Southern family barbeques - okra, houseflies and all
* hot summers, cold winters, perfect springs and falls
* JR's Lightbulb Club
* the landscape along I-540
Things I will always miss about Scotland while in Arkansas:
* crisp, jumper-perfect air
* the mountains across the river
* the comforting, cozy atmosphere
* the sound of the Scottish brogue all around me
* mince pie and beans
Friends, keep in touch. (This means you, Chris and Lincoln.)
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