Archive for the ‘The Nonsense’ Category

It has been blissfully quiet around here in terms of things breaking. In fact, even the bug situation has leveled out due to our diligence with taking out the trash regularly and our apartment complex spraying our building. It’s been lovely.

Until today.

This morning I showered and got ready as normal. Just as I was ready to leave, I stepped back in my bathroom to grab my watch, which I had forgotten. My husband had just started running his shower in the other upstairs bathroom and I heard a strange sound. I hadn’t turned the lights on, but the more steps I took into my bathroom, the more I heard the sound.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

I flipped on the light and found my bathroom floor covered in water. The bathroom I had been standing in not 2 minutes prior, which was bone dry.

I yelled for my husband to turn his shower off and began investigating the source of the flood. I had used the toilet several times that morning (pregnancy peeing) without any difficulty, so I knew it wasn’t clogged, yet, when I lifted the lid, it was completely full of water and was the absolute source of the flood. I was standing in toilet water. My cat was splashing all around in TOILET WATER.

Gross gross gross.

The water appeared clean, but it was pouring out. I tried plunging it, but that only seemed to encourage it to pour more out. So I turned the water off (to which my husband said, “whoa, I didn’t know you could do that!”). It stopped the water and using all the towels in our house except the one my husband was going to use if he ever got to shower, we attempted to slow the water from reaching the carpet.

I called the maintenance people and explained the situation. They were perplexed at the shower part, just as we were, but they sent someone out.

I had to go to work but my husband stayed home while they dealt with it. He texted me about an hour later that they had discovered that my toilet was clogged with what appeared to be paper towels or Clorox wipes. Which made me laugh out loud. If they had taken one quick look around the house they’d have noticed that absolutely no one has been cleaning anything lately. The idea that Clorox wipes have been used on any surface any time recently is HILARIOUS to me.

Despite still not knowing what caused the whole situation, my bathroom is now mostly dry and though it totally smells like toilet water (what? It’s a smell) at least it’s no longer soaking wet. It’s a start. And hopefully the last time I ever hear a splashing sound when I walk through my own bathroom.

We been in our new apartment since late June, and yes, I still owe you pictures. Frankly, it hasn’t really been clean enough to send you any so far. It’s a lot bigger than our old one, the cats have room to not always be around each other (which Karma is really, really happy about), and best of all, 3 bathrooms. Hallelujah, 3 bathrooms, I’m in heaven.

The only real downside (until this week) was the energy cost. It turns out that it costs a lot more to keep a two story apartment really excessively cold at night than it does a small one story one. Oops. We’re still working out the kinks. Which is to say, that despite my best efforts, our energy bill was 10 bucks more this month than last. Damn.

But a new problem has emerged. Actually, about 10,000 new problems.

Bugs. We have bugs.

And not just one type of bugs, because I mean really, don’t be silly. We have all different kinds. We equal opportunity bug people, apparently.

We have spiders, big and small, indoors and out. I hate them ALL. Some of them are black widows that run out at you when you’re doing laundry. Some of them are tiny and brown and are ALL over the cabinet in the laundry closet. In related news, I don’t do laundry anymore.

We have cockroaches, not a lot so far, but there’s one living in our coffeemaker apparently and I am NOT pleased with this development. In fact, thinking about it makes me want to gag. Today I got my caffeine through Starbucks, but they forgot to put the sweetener in my iced tea, so it was kind of awful. But anyway, a cockroach IN our coffeemaker. I want to run screaming away thinking about it. I love coffee. I will miss it.

And of course, no bug festival would be complete without ants. At first there were just a few and they were just hanging around the cat food that was left out. So we stopped leaving the cat food out and there were fewer. And then they found the trash can and there were not fewer anymore. There were many. And then the pantry (don’t worry, I saved the peanut butter cups!). And today we found their travel routes. Our storage closet under the stairs has 8 bajillion ants, all going different ways so they can all be up in EVERYTHING in the apartment.

Sigh.

You guys. I don’t like bugs, and my husband doesn’t like bugs, so I can’t just put my fingers in my ears and ignore it. And we can’t use a lot of bug sprays because of the cats and also because we don’t have any and are too tired to go out and buy them. So now there are 8 million ants living in my apartment and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Aside from moving out and burning the place down (and running over my coffeemaker with my car 800 times) what else can I do? Help me internet. I need cat friendly bug solutions.

It has come to my attention that I have a problem. It’s Facebook.

I mean, Facebook itself isn’t a problem. It’s that I love it. I love it way too much.

When I’m home and on the internet, Facebook is almost always open somewhere on my computer. Sometimes, okay, a lot of the time, it’s open on multiple windows because I forget it’s already open and open a new window and immediately go to Facebook.

At least once a day when I’m bored with what I’m reading, I’ll click on my Facebook bookmark tab only to realize that I WAS ALREADY ON FACEBOOK.

In July my class did some fun “awards” during the last week of classes for the summer. I was given the “Most Like to Update Their Facebook Status in Class” Award. My mother, the teacher, is SO proud, trust me.

And all the students whose phones I took away when I was a teacher are making me feel like the giant hypocrite that I am. Except that, in my defense, I almost never update Facebook during class, but rather during breaks from class. Or when I go to the bathroom because otherwise I’m going to lose my mind in class. Which totally makes it all okay. Obviously.

And here’s the thing- when Facebook gets boring, I have ANOTHER Facebook account to look at. Because one is clearly not enough (see also: must keep real life and internet life in two separate spheres or the universe will implode). I am extremely good at procrastinating.

I’m not really sure why I’m writing this as I have no intention of changing my Facebook habits, but I realized today how bad my addiction is when I clicked on the Facebook tab, while already on Facebook like 3 times in a row. Like I was trying to make it dance like a circus monkey for me or something.

I changed my mind, it’s not a problem. It’s a totally reasonable way to waste time and stalk all my friends from high school and college. Don’t judge me.

Here’s a picture of the Shmo, for no reason than to encourage you to judge me for being a crazy cat lady instead of for being a crazy Facebook addict lover.

I’m just way too tired to be clever today, so instead, I offer you a snippet of how bad I am at using my phone. This was an actual conversation with my sister last night and today. I am good at things. Clearly.

That last thing is a picture of the bag of Lucky Charms her dog stole from me a year and a half ago. I hope they’re still magically delicious.

I bought my first apple product when I was 21 years old. It was an iBook and I loved it to death. Literally. Two years later, I loved and dropped and crappily handled it right to death. And then I went and bought a new one. Only this time I wised up and bought a warranty too. See? I learn. I had that MacBook until it was stolen on my honeymoon, which is how I came to own my current MacBook (if it was up to me, I’d still have my last one…).

I received an iPod as a gift a few years after my iBook and from there, the love affair really blossomed. I received another iPod as a gift and still use it today (the first one, also stolen on my honeymoon) for exercise. I’m on my second iPhone and I believe I am now completely non-functional without it. It’s like an extra lung or something. I cannot live without it at my side or my pocket or in my hand. I actually even had a dream about the catastrophic possibility of breaking it last night.

We’re also the owners of two Apple TVs. In a word, we have an addiction. We don’t really spend money on clothes or on fancy dinners, we spend money on Apple products. We save our money and then we buy what we think are the best.

Because our funds have been short lately, especially after the unexpected need to replace a car, we’ve not been in the market for Apple products. We both look longingly at the Apple website at the new computers and the iPads, but we just don’t have the money. And we’re grown ups, so we only quietly cry ourselves to sleep. First world problems are hard too, guys.

But today? Today I got an iPad.

Only, I didn’t have to pay for it! And I don’t get to keep it. And I can’t install Angry Birds on it. I know, that last part is pretty much the low point of my day.

Let me explain. I’m participating in a pilot of a pilot study (that I helped design), to determine the usefulness of technology in clinical settings. Our goal is to see if tablet technology improves on our standard of care and influences our use of evidence to drive patient treatment.

(Didn’t that sound all official and stuff? I know, right?)

And in order to research that, my school decided to provide me with an iPad. An iPad pre-loaded with the apps I asked for (minus Angry Birds…), all of which are relatively pricey but totally awesome for my clinical affiliation right now. They’re paying for my service as well and in exchange, I just have to, well, use it. And document that I’m using it. I’ll be meeting with a mentor every few weeks to discuss what is and isn’t working. Not too bad for free usage of an iPad for at least 4 months.

The end goal is either to publish our results in a journal or to do a presentation in February at our national conference, but both are dreams that are a bit down the line and there’s a lot of work between here and there. But we’re excited, and not just about the fact that I think I’m now currently in possession of every Apple product ever made, but also about making an impact on the future of my profession and about studying something that could positively impact future clinicians.

But you know, also the iPad.

I promise to write about the first day of clinic tomorrow (it went fine), but tonight I need your help. It’s a very serious matter.

I have nothing to eat for breakfast.

Okay, no, I mean, I have stuff that I can eat, but so far I have found nothing that works. And by works I mean will last me from 7 to noon without a snack (I don’t have a break in clinic to eat one) and isn’t a million calories. The other thing is that it kind of needs to travel. My commute is about 20 minutes and that’s when I’ll eat it, so stuff that sticks to your bones well like oatmeal? Kinda doesn’t work even though it’s delicious.

So I need your help. I’m looking for breakfasts that are filling but not terrible for you. Unfortunately they can’t be eggy since I’m allergic (wah wah) and preferably not super dairy because my stomach is not a huge fan. Soy is great, but not a requirement.

And let’s not be crazy, it doesn’t need to fulfill every part of the food pyramid, in fact, if you know of a super delicious donut that is really filling, just point me in the right direction. There are no calories in donuts. I’m not especially picky when it comes to breakfast food and I can prepare stuff ahead of time if necessary.

So internet, can you help me? Help prevent my stomach from roaring wildly all morning? Pretty please?

Earlier this year I bought a groupon and started practicing yoga, semi-seriously, for the first time in ages. I had done it 2 times a week for almost a year in college and really enjoyed it, but I was never so good at the breathing in sync part. You’d think that would be the easiest part, but you’d be wrong. I don’t have the attention span to think about breathing for an hour.

The place I attended earlier this year was near my school and it was a kind of new age yoga. Instead of soothing music and focus on breathing, it was hip hop music and focus on balance with some breathing here and there. It was a killer work out. My arms and legs would shake, I would be wickedly sore the next day and with time, I got stronger. It never got easy, but it got easier and my balance got better.

As school wound up and things got crazy, which ironically is probably when I needed it the most, I stopped going to yoga. My groupon ran out, my time even more so and the mat has been in the back of my car for the better part of 3 months now.

Until today.

A few months ago a new groupon showed up, this time it was for a studio near our new place. I bought it because it was a steal and because I knew it would motivate me to get back to it since it expires. So I looked up the website and decided to go today. I decided that beginners yoga would be too easy because I’ve done yoga off and on for several years and I’m pretty flexible. I neglected to consider the weak and out of shape part. Details.

I had originally planned to go earlier this morning, but the Vitamin A and it’s not so awesome side effects kept me home this morning. So instead I showed up for the 5pm class. I got signed in, signed my waver, went upstairs and laid my mat out.

Within a few minutes I noticed an interesting phenomenon. In all my other classes the ratio of women to men has been somewhere in the range of 15:0. Okay, occasionally 20:1. But if there is a man it’s almost always clear that his wife or girlfriend dragged him there (eerily similar to how mine is going to end up at yoga soon). Not so here. There were probably 6 or 7 men and 10 women and many of the men weren’t there with other people. I was shocked. Everyone was really nice, but they all seemed to know each other. I had no idea what to expect of the class, of the teacher, of the other people in the class, but I threw caution to the wind and went for it.

Um, yea. It seems that the vast majority of my body and even my balance is reasonably a level 1-2 at yoga. That is, with the exception of my triceps. My sad little tiny weak triceps. The triceps that nobly tried to hold my entire body weight up. The triceps that shook and cramped but held the course.

The triceps that out of nowhere dropped me right on my ass.

It happened so quickly I didn’t even see it coming and before I knew it I was on the floor, unhurt and trying to keep my laughing quiet. I went down like a ton of bricks, I wish I had been able to see it. One moment I was in a single arm stand (very similar to a side plank), and the next moment, I was laying on the ground. One small blessing was that everyone was facing away, so I’m the only one who witnessed the epic fail of triceps, but hell if I trusted them to hold me up again.

In the end, I survived, though I sweat more in those 75 minutes that I ever have in my whole life. Like, my shirt was soaked through and you guys, I’m not a big sweater. Call it a hunch, but I have a sneaking suspicion that tomorrow is going to suck.

If you meet me later this week in San Diego and I can’t lift my arms up to hug you or shake your hand, understand that it’s nothing personal. It’s just that my arms may never work again.

On Wednesday I’m picking up one of my very favorite people from a nearby airport and then we’re driving to San Diego for a girl’s weekend. Okay, fine, for a really big girls weekend. With several thousand other women. It’s BlogHer. If you’ve never heard of it, it’s a conference where women who are also bloggers, join together to learn more about blogging and to have a really good time. If you have heard of it, then I hope you’re going.

This will be my 3rd BlogHer, so I feel that this makes me qualified to give you advice. I don’t care if you disagree, I’m gonna do it anyway.

1. Do not talk shit about other people. I’m serious. I don’t care how stupid or mean or unlikeable someone is, do not talk shit. Don’t tell your best friend you don’t like someone, don’t tell your roommates. No one keeps secrets no matter how good of friends they are, this is a fact. Your best friend tells her best friend who tells her best friend who just happens to be exactly who you were talking shit about. And then she tells everyone you said it. And then it’s awkward for everyone.

2. Understand that there will be cliques. Anyone who says there aren’t cliques at BlogHer is a big, fat liar. This is real life, and like real life, people who share common interests and experiences clump themselves together. These groupings are not impenetrable, they are not binding and people who hang out together aren’t trying to be exclusive. Cliques don’t need to be a bad thing.

3. Do introduce yourself to new people, to people you secretly stalk admire. They’re people just like you, and most of them will be flattered that you like their blog. Don’t be offended if they don’t know who you are, there are thousands of blogs out there, no one can know them all.

4. Do not interrupt someone’s conversation to introduce yourself. That’s the quickest way to get people to not like you. Be patient, have manners. They will be free from conversations eventually and then you can talk and become best friends.

5. Have realistic expectations with roommates, especially if you don’t know them well before you get there. And understand that if your roommate gets invited out somewhere and doesn’t invite you it’s probably not because she’s an asshole. It’s because she was invited by someone else and therefore it would be rude to bring extra guests. And if this scenario happens and you think you might want to talk or write shit about it, see #1.

6. BlogHer is overwhelming. There are a lot of people, a lot to see, a lot to do. You won’t do it all, but try to sleep at least. For 2 years running, I have come home to a massive cold that I blame on getting no sleep for 2 days. Take care of yourself, drink some water to flush out all the alcohol.

7. Don’t do anything that you don’t want photographed or video taped. Most of these bloggers will be wielding cameras of some sort.

8. If you’re a camera wielder, be gentle with the pictures that you post. If someone looks horrible, maybe don’t post that one all over the internet. Especially if it’s of me.

9. Come visit me at my Birds of a Feather panel on Friday morning. If for no other reason than so that I don’t have to stand there looking ridiculous. Whoever decided it was smart for me to lead this was clearly crazy. Whoever agreed to do it is equally crazy. Wait. No. Um, nevermind, that’s true.

10. Most of all, have a good time. This is supposed to be fun, if you’re not enjoying it, do something different. Find new people, go to a new party. You’re the only one in charge of your fun, so make the best of it.

Also, just to put it out there now…there’s a good chance that there will be hours or days where I am not feeling well. This month has been a headache hell for me, and crowds and loud noises are generally not all that helpful. If I seem off or anti-social, it’s almost definitely me, not you. Unless you’re a jerk. If I’m missing or I leave something early, it’s because I need to. If I cancel plans, it’s because I need to. I promise it’s not personal and I promise I feel badly about it and I will do my best to make up for it.

I hope to see some of your lovely faces there, and if not, I hope to not annoy you too much with BlogHer tweets while I’m there.

So this weekend we moved.

Or I guess we’re still moving since we still have at least one car load of crap left at our old place. A car load of crap I simply cannot motivate myself to get, especially since in our own personal method, none of it is boxed up and it will all have to be collected, boxed and then put in the car. Sometimes our procrastination tendencies seriously bite us in the ass. I’ll worry about that later though.

Friday we packed in earnest for the first time, despite my fool proof “pack one room a day” plan. It was more like, pack one item a day and then get distracted by anything other than packing. So Friday was packing hell.

Saturday morning we got up at the crack of dawn, loaded each of our cars and drove out to the new place (30 miles from the old one) and got the keys and information. Can I just say that them not doing the walk through with us, but instead having us do it and turn it in in 3 days is like the dumbest thing any apartment complex has ever done? Yea, all 30 of those scuff marks in the stair well were definitely there before we moved in. And no, they don’t perfectly match the color of the paint/wood/metal of the furniture upstairs. Of course not.

My dad and step-grandpa came and helped us move, and truly we couldn’t have done it without them. They loaded two trailers full of our stuff and they worked harder than two men should ever work on a Saturday in 90+ degree heat. After all was said and done the only collateral damage was 1 wine glass, which I think is pretty impressive. Especially since we have at least 7 other wine glasses that we never use anyways.

Oh and maybe my dad’s back. Since my husband thought it would be funny to label his extremely heavy book boxes like this, not understanding that sarcasm doesn’t always translate when written in Sharpie on a box on moving day.

The only really dumb decision we made (besides choosing to move into a two story townhome) was inviting my mother-in-law. My father-in-law was immensely helpful, as were my brother-in-law and nephew. But my MIL spent about 100% of her time making comments about the things we were doing wrong, prompting even my father to ask if we had killed her by the end of the night (the answer was no). The woman has impeccable taste and can be super helpful when decorating a new place, but she struggles a bit with the biting her tongue about imperfect things thing.

We brought the cats late Saturday night after all the major things were moved in and all the family left. I’m not sure how to sum up the experience. It was by far the longest 30 mile car ride of all time. Shmo started the meowing, then he and Karma had a repeated chorus back and forth for what felt like several years in the back seat. Each meow getting progressively louder than the first, to the point that it resembled the talking Carl fight.

And then we brought them inside and Karma took the very cautious explorer route, which was to be expected, she has moved before, she can handle it. She eventually found her way to a sink and was fine.

Shmo on the other hand has never really lived anywhere besides our old apartment and he freaked the hell out. He burrowed under the couch, which is barely tall enough for him to smoosh his head under. Then we finally convinced him to go up the stairs (okay, fine, I picked him up, him silently hissing the whole time, and brought him upstairs) and he immediately burrowed under the bed. The burrowing was his coping mechanism, it was almost cute until he decided to burrow under the covers of the bed at 3 in the morning and in between my husband’s pillows at 5.

Okay fine, the burrowing in the pillows was still cute.

Shmo also spent the whole first night hissing at Karma, I’m pretty sure he blamed her, which I was kind of okay with. Better her than me. He seems better now, he’s nearly returned to his role as king of the house. Or at least king of the mess of boxes for now.

We are all adjusting and exhausted and still not even close to unpacked, which is unfortunate. But we are getting there. It only took us two days to realize that the kitchen didn’t have a microwave, so you know, we’re totally on top of things. I’m hoping to have pictures of the place by this weekend to share with you next week, but don’t hold me to that. There’s no telling what method I’ll find for procrastination between now and then.

I hate moving. Let me just get that out of the way right now. I hate it. I hate packing, I hate cleaning, I hate schlepping, I hate it all. I hate it even more when I don’t have time off to do it.

Prior to last night, we had not packed a single thing and we’re moving bright and early Saturday morning, which I still fail to see as a problem, unlike my very stressed out husband. I mean unlike the last several moves, we’re only going about 30 miles down the road not across several states, but even still, we didn’t even have boxes until Sunday night. And I think we only have 10 boxes total. I mean, I know my apartment is small, but it’s not that small.

At my suggestion, we decided to tackle a room a day to try and make the packing more manageable. So last night we did the bathroom, which doesn’t seem like it can hold much crap, I mean, we’re talking two double cabinets under the sink, 3 drawers and the medicine cabinet. We packed 6 big paper bags of stuff and threw away 4 full paper bags of other stuff. It took an hour, I think I may have sweated during the process. Woe. Woe is me.

Tonight we’re tackling the living room, because pretty much there’s nothing to pack in it. We need to clean off the coffee tables which will take time, but otherwise everything is being moved as is. You see, basically I’m using strategy to procrastinate because the remaining two rooms (kitchen and bedroom) are going to be a nightmare. And why deal with the nightmares when you can put them off until tomorrow?

I mean really.

As I type, my husband is on the phone with a new cable provider trying to negotiate all kinds of things that make no sense to me. There are so many letters. HD. DVR. HDDVR. HDMI. HBO. All we want is CABLE. I just want to be able to watch Food Network and Bravo, this should not be this complicated. We would happily stick with our current cable provider, but the new (older) apartment doesn’t have the proper cable wiring. Again, with the woe.

I think the biggest non-packing hurdle is going to be finding the remaining piece of furniture. We were able to get a futon from my dad and step-mom to be used more as a seat than a bed in our office/spare bedroom. We bought an entertainment stand from Target at a mild discount thanks to some gift cards. All that remains to be found is a chair for the living room. You guys, furniture is effing expensive. I just want a chair. I don’t want it to be modern and weirdly shaped, I don’t want it to recline and hold cold beers (I mean, sure, not that I’d really object to either of those), but I’d just like it to hold my butt in place while I watch tv.

That is if we ever get the tv figured out.

And all our stuff packed.

And then moved into the new apartment.

These are big ifs. I think I better spend some more time procrastinating considering them.