The Peanut Chronicles

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

You know you are really upset when not only does crying make you leak breast milk but it also sends you into early labor.

At work today I got an email from one of my thesis volunteers. It wasn't about my thesis. My dear friend, Krystal Madison, also known as Ms. Diva, died on Sunday. She was 26. Rumor has it, it was from heart failure.

I can't express how much I am hurting other to say that if you thought I was a hermit before by not blogging, emailing and returning calls recently... you ain't seen nothing yet.

They say bad things come in threes. Grandpa, Krystal and..... I am waiting for the shoe to drop.

Kristie in Canada was pissed at the news. everyone grieves different.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Huh….

Got a lab result from a doctor I have never seen at Kaiser tonight. You’ll be happy to know that I tested negative for barbiturates, alcohol, Benzodiazepines, cocaine, THC, opiates, and amphetamines.

Someone at Kaiser fucked up and sent the lab results for someone else to me.

I hear HIPPA having a cow.

Fucking Kaiser.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Not that anyone I know really gives a shit but my hearing is almost back. That was my nice wake up from my nap this afternoon. It's weird how loud everything is after such a long silence.

Seriously considering disappearing again for awhile. All this shit just ain't worth it. Not like people would notice anyway.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Dear Peanut,

I understand that you are totally happy rocking out in my body like a good Nut but mom needs to set some rules for the last six weeks. Sorry, dear, but it must be done…

Please don’t kick my bladder so hard. I know you want me to go pee.

Please don’t make me puke again at midnight right after I got settled in bed. If you don’t like Caesar salads, let me know before I am almost asleep and comfortable. That way I don’t scare the living crap out of daddy as I get up and bolt (Or Mickey for that matter.)

Please, enjoy the time you have left in that warm sack of fluids. You got four to six weeks before you need to make an appearance and be adorable for everyone.

I hope you have been liking the music that has been pumped via my iPod thought my belly button to your little spot. Someone should enjoy the music, even if I can’t.

That’s all for now. I love you.

Mommy

Sunday, January 22, 2006

WOW!! My secret made it on the PostSecret website!!

Not telling which one.

if you know me, you'll know which one....

:P

The most romatic thing I have ever heard:

"Every time I see you your freckles smile at me. You have become so much a part of me that I don’t know how I existed on this planet without you." -Bear, when he thought I was asleep last night.

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Note to GWB: The mid east is fucked up. Always has been, always will be. You and your cowboy gung-ho attitude ain't gonna change a damn thing.

Saw Munich tonight. Violent. Gory. Long... Amazed I didn't have to get up an pee. I did, but the place was too crowded so I didn't do it.

Bear thought about the new kitty dilemma. At the end of the movie I turned to him and said, "Kitty Mew?"

"Honey, we have a Peanut coming..."

Didn't wait until he finished the sentence. I said, "ok, forget it. I get it." and went to the bathroom. It was a no. You could tell by his voice. He loved the photos, loved the cat but in the end it wasn't enough.

I come out of the bathroom and see him and MY talking. I start walking down the stairs to the lobby and he says, behind me as I am walking, "Why don't you ever let me finish?"

"What's the point? I knew the answer."

"can I finish my sentences now?"

Sigh.... Fine. Let me hear all the reasons he has against the new kitty mew.

"As I was saying, we have a Nut on the way so you better figure out how to balance the Nut, poopy Paws and the new kitty mew."

His answer was yes all along.

Meow.

Ok, I have to give MY a hand for at least trying so damn hard… Today, after spending 250 bucks at Starbucks on Volunteer gift cards for my thesis participants, we waddled down to petco to look at the cat adoptions. The bear said there were only a few rules if we were to get a cat. The first is that the cat would have to look like Paws or our old man. The second was that the cat would have to be a girl. No budging on that one.

We go, and immediately I am captured by this cute little 3-month-old red tabby with green eyes. I look; it’s a boy and doesn’t go good with kids. Double damn. We walk around looking at all the generic grey tabby fur balls in cages…

Then it happens.

I see her.

No, she is not a red tabby. No she is not a part Siamese like Paws. But I see her and I am smitten. I am in love. I can’t describe the beauty. Orange and black freckled is as close as I can get. I stop and stare, totally mesmerized. This cat has stopped me in my tracks with her beauty. I ask the volunteer the question of sex.

“She is a girl and seven months old, perfect timing and age for introduction to a home with another cat.”

Oh my…

I look at MY. He goes, “forget it. Why did you bring me here again?”

“To make sure I don’t get a cat”

“What am I going to do then?”

“Make sure I get a cat.” I grin. He sighs.

“I will admit, if you are getting in line for another cat, this one would be the winner.” He stared at the cage, completely under the cat’s spell as well.

Needless to say, after many pets later, a call or two to the Bear at work, and a return trip with the camera so I can show Bear photos, we might have a new addition to our little home.

MAYBE

About half way through the night my ear popped leaving it ok to be in small conversations with people but in a crowd it sucked. The wake was fun. My bro in law brought his new gfriend. He also died his hair jet-black. As he left he yelled, “Long live Grandpa!” It was funny.

Didn’t feel so hot late at night (maybe that’s because I was up 4.5 hours past my 9pm bedtime.) The Bear wasn’t feeling good either.

Moe pointed out that Princess poopy paw’s eye was acting dribbly. Today it is swollen and even grosser. And here the vet thought with the demise of our old guy he wouldn’t see us too much anymore. HA!

Today is the thesis day. Just returned about 4o emails saying “let’s get the ball rolling” turns out I had thought ahead and already covered my out of town/state basis so no need for the proposal revamp. Let’s get this thing going, I got to keep up because nut might arrive early. why? because...

Went to doc yesterday. Only gained one pound (wow) but am measuring big. Might need a c section. Bear thinks I am insane because if that is what it comes down to I want him to take pictures of my insides. Gross, yes. But I want to see the extent of the fucking damage that is inflicted. Bear says, “no fucking way!!”

Hearing a little better today.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Tonight is old man’s wake and I can’t hear ANYTHING. NOTHING AT ALL. This is just so much fun. Totally isolated in my deafness. It’s been like this for about a week now. Bear has given up talking to me; no one can call me, can’t listen to music or watch TV.

I am totally alone.

Figures

Monday, January 16, 2006

Murky water

clouds my thinking

sinking deep

I keep on drinking

below the surface

I still see

that death was ever

beside me

through life,

this infernal lie,

never did I

cease to try,

the water keeps on

seeping down

but, alas, my will

is not to drown

If I die before

I wake,

remember those that

I forsake

amid the doldrums

I will be

if ever was

forget not me

passing through these

lines of print

ink placed on

for my short stint

time alone is

wasted forever

long indeed

the length of never

together sorrow,

loss and I,

We'll get there yet

or dying try.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Goals for today:

Mail off helper elf’s money
Find the damn photos I lost of the old man!! One was for his doc!
Read and summarize 2 articles for thesis
Swim? (Can do that tomorrow is need be…)
Clean my desk aka the black hole!!!
Post office for new stamps (can’t believe the price went up again. I remember when they were just 23 cents! Now they are almost 40!
Bring bear a yumz at work

We got a letter yesterday in the mail from the old man’s vet. It was a hand written sympathy card. At first I thought it was a bill for something. But no, it was a letter of “deepest sympathy” etc. Took us about five minutes to decipher the handwriting. Truly he is a doctor.

We also got a card from D. It was an actual “pet sympathy” card. It was really sweet. I didn’t know that hallmark made cards like that but then again it there is something to be made money with, hey why not!

Saturday, January 14, 2006

My day was boring. I love the rain, I do, but it also makes it very hard to get out of bed. And there was a cute little blue eyes guy following me around all day needing attention.

So what did I get done? More thesis volunteer’s emails, got my toes all pedicured out with “giggling grape” nail polish. Hey I can’t see my nails or my toes but at least I know they look cute now!

Got the hair cut. I was wondering about these super dark roots and my question was answered when I say down in the chair.

Hairstyle lady: would you like me too touch up your roots?

Me: Funny, I had a question about that. I don’t dye my hair but I have these two-inch dark roots. Why? Is it because I am pregnant?

Hairstyle lady: yup happens to a lot of people. Would you like me to do a few foils to make it look more natural?

What the hell are foils??? I imagine myself sitting with some weird alien probe tin foil looking hair thing attached to my head for a few hours.

A memory stirs…

Ahh yes, I remember being 13 years old and having my dance coach telling me I had horrid hair and needed to do something about it before a major competition we had coming up (Statewide championships, which we won that year I might add). Horrid is the truth. I was in that lovely stage of puberty where my hair was long, frizzy and limp all at the same time. While the other girls had bouncing and glowing hair that swayed the right way and curled just perfectly, it didn’t matter what I did, mine was crap. I got picked on by the other girls too: “do you even try, ghost, to brush your hair?” for example.

Right before that competition, and on the day of my brother’s graduation from the 8th grade my mother did what she thought would make it all better: she paid for me to get a perm. FOR THREE HOURS, I sat in a chair while a nice lady doused my hair with chemicals and rollers and proceeded to turn my frazzled head into one of curling, bouncing beauty.

For once, I felt like my hair was beautiful and hence, I was beautiful as well. I went to that competition, won with my group… and a week later my hair was back to its usual frizzy limp self. Sigh…

The irony of it now is that I get most complemented on how thick and beautiful my reddish hair is. I have had women stop my in streets and ask me where I get my hair done because some people “would kill for that color.”

So yeah, the roots bug me a bit. I made an appointment to get my hair foiled next weekend. Not a lot, but just so when I pull it back it doesn’t look horrendous anymore. Whether or not I keep the appointment is still up in the air. I want to look nice for my baby shower.

OH MY GOD!!! I AM BEING GIRLIE!! or maybe I am just beginning to realize I am an adult now (at age 28...)

Paws is sitting in front of the computer and wheezing. Uh-oh. And Bear and I decided he is going on a diet in order to reduce his jabba the hut sized waistline.

Ok, I am done with the whole “bun in the oven” thing. Last night we ran into problems with the little guy. Mostly that for THREE HOURS he decided not to move…AT ALL. This sends bear into a tizzy and leaves me to wonder what the hell happened. Then, at 1241am, the nut decided to show mom and dad his new kickboxing moves.

Oh the humanity…

Woke up this morning in massive amounts of uncomfortable states. My knee is stiff and gave out (the LEFT knee not the RIGHT, which makes it a major shocker…) and my left hip was incredibly sore as well. I think if anyone could take a picture of my inside belly they would see it all black and blue. And the upper back is on fire.

Yeah, I am done being an incubator and yet I still have 6-8 weeks to go. Crap!!

Paws has made the leap from spending a few hours on our bed every night to almost the whole night. This is even with my tossing and turning although I do believe he got angry because at one point he waddled over to sleep on Bear’s chest. How the bear didn’t suffocate under his massive weight is beyond me. But paws purred most of the night so that is a good sign.

I gotta say something. While I am really appreciative over Jo wanting to have the baby shower at this ritzy hotel, it is really starting to make me uncomfortable especially since he won’t let ANYONE help him pay for it. This is crazy because he is a social worker and in school! This has got to set him back a lot and I don’t know if I am really THAT comfortable with spending someone else’s money like that. Hmmm…

Last night was a devastating self-esteem night. I went to the pool. I weighed myself. I’ve gained only 25 pounds. Not too bad for being almost 33 weeks preggers. I swam, did the usual shit and then went back to the locker room to change. That’s when it happened: RIPPPPP!!! My underwear ripped. It no longer fits over my large belly. Oh my god, walking out to the lobby where the bear was and saying, “We have to go to target for some stuff.” Was embarrassing!!

“For what?”

“New undies,” I whispered, “I just ripped my second pair.” (The first pair I was in denial about. You know what you can justify in your head, they were old… they were getting to the point of needing new ones…)

To Target we go and into the lingerie we stumble. I am looking for basic briefs. I have e no intentions of wearing them again. Once I get some normal semblance of a body back an d no longer feel like the Good year blimp, I will return to my usual undies. Boy helps me look. He sees the ones that I know I need but just don’t want.

“How about these?”

He holds up a package of brightly colored high waist briefs, size 9. I want to cry. Alas, the bear has found the perfect granny pants. Is this what I have been reduced to? I say, OK, and we leave the lingerie, me trying hard not to cry in shame, over the huge body, which is ridiculous because anyone who sees me knows that, I am extremely pregnant. When we get into the car, and I have been very quiet, the bear turns and looks at me and says, “you know what? I think these are kind of hot. It’s kind of like Bridget Jones baby!” I have to laugh at that because it’s an unspoken rule that I don’t mention that Bridget Jones is one of his favorite movies. Ahh, my bear…

Toady’s goals: clean the black hole, send out release forms, get some baby items, GET A HAIR CUT, maybe get my toes nails done (I can’t reach my feet), and other boring crap for a rainy day. I suppose I should work on my thesis….

Friday, January 13, 2006

There has been a breakthrough with poopy paws and his depression. He actually played with his mouse today!!! And even better, I woke up this morning at around 7am to find him curled up behind my knees on the bed. For a minute I thought it was the old man but I am happy that paws is getting a little happier. Wish I could say the same.

Turns out that I got so many responses to my letter looking for volunteers that I had to create a generic response for everyone out of state. I need to revamp my proposal and send it through the dreaded IRB again. This time, however, it’s not a full proposal review but a modification. Hence, this should be easier then it was before.

Moe is planning a baby shower with Jo’ Mama. It’s a ritzy hotel in the city and Jo is paying for the whole thing. Wow and yikes all together. Even the Bear is shocked.

I am going to go workout today and get my haircut. Maybe the hairstylist can tell me why I have really dark brown roots when I haven’t dyed my hair. My guess is it’s a hormone thing.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Ummm… ball rolling is an understatement. I am completely overwhelmed with emails from as far away a California to Maine and everywhere in between. Holy shit. There are so many emails coming in I am not sure if I can respond to them all. That’s a whole hell of a lot of mail. I am glad I set up a different email account for this project, you know what I mean? I can’t imagine having my actual inbox flooded with this influx every day. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I hope it slows down soon. Hurricane suggested that I call up the guy who originally made the posting national and ask him to pull it but I don’t want to do that because it seems wrong. He is helping me after all.

Totally overwhelmed.

the ball really began to pick up speed. my advertisement was just placed on two national list serves. wow... cross your fingers people!

I checked my email and in the last 10 minutes I have gotten 4 emails from around the country with responses!! Holy shit!

Interesting things going on here. First of all, I really am happy that the lady at that shelter responded to my letter. Since she posted the letter on the list serve I have gotten emails and phone calls from several people. One is even a gentleman out of state!! That is a new take on things, don’t you think? Excellent. The ball is really rolling.

Second, and this is ironic because Alito hearing are going on as we speak, on the subway yesterday there was an ad. It said, “Nine months: because that’s how long the US Supreme Court has said it’s legal to have an abortion”. So I think to myself, a Ro V Wade thing… keep abortion legal. I was wrong. Down at the bottom it said, “Abortion: have we gone to far?” After some research at work I found that this is a campaign by a church group in Oakland CA that supports pro-life. It’s interesting because the ads were everywhere in my little liberal area. I am truly and honestly surprised they haven’t’ been vandalized. I also found it funny that the ad was in a subway station in the city next to an ad for a sex toyshop. Ahhh…. Irony.

Going to work on the book now.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Today I actually laughed… a lot…for a long time… all thanks to Sarge over in Iraq. Still reeling from Gpa’s death, one by one the staff at work came with condolences. It was really sweet. Love child was really shocked and the Vol coordinator there was really upset as well. I went to our evite to between meetings, just to see if anyone new had responded. Turns out Sarge over in the Mideast responded. I didn’t really expect him to waste his time with an evite when he sent it because according to Moe it’s rather expensive to use the Internet and make calls. But he did, and here’s what he said:

“Hmmm, if not for the whole "Iraq" thing I'd be there. Instead I'll try to blow something up in his honor. Although you may have to settle for some .50 cal machinegun fire. Either way, it'll be loud :)”

It cracked me up. It got even worse when Love Child cracked a joke about military stuff being loud enough for the deaf cat to hear. Then we just got on a roll of laughter so much that my boss, who is extremely hard of hearing, heard us down the hall. By the time the clinical meeting started, everyone was laughing. Then right in the middle of the meeting I looked at Love and she signed to me “boom!” this started the whole disruptive laughter all over again. I guess you had to be there.

Turns out when the bear read the same evite at his work he started laughing so hard people stared at him.

It was nice to laugh. It was nice to do something besides cry.

On the thesis home front, the lady that got a hold of me posted my letter and flyer in her office and put it on the list serve at work for all the DV and Sexual assault clinics in the 7 counties around here. I got three hits a few short hours after she did so. Yea!!!!

Coming home to a quiet house still takes some getting used to. Sigh.

Well, I made it almost through the night without wondering where the furball that resides at my feet was. As ususal, when I went for my 345am bathroom trip, I wound up sleeping back on the floor next to princess poopy paws, who had decided once again to settle down on the body pillow on the floor. The bear found him in the cradle when he came to bed last night and took him out. The poor cat still won’t sleep on the bed and wants to remain on the floor near where the old man died. It’s weird. He’s taking this a lot harder then the Bear and I ever thought he would.
And how am I? Well, still here I guess. Last night we went to this “baby prep” class. I had the old man’s collar in my pocket the whole time. Kind of dumb but what can I say? It’s my comfort toy right now. Princess doesn’t want to play with any of his toys now. The birth class was all right I guess. The bear was traumatized by the video we watched of a natural birth. He hid behind me!! It was the “nicest” video I think he is going to see. Once again we were the youngest in the class. I think we had the most fun as well. The teacher was leading us through this meditation “breath deep and relax, feeling your energy go to the spots where you are most tense and working to release that tension” sort of shit. I thought I left all this shit in Arcata. It’s true. I couldn’t relax or concentrate on my breathing (because it’s very difficult to do so for me at this moment. Too much of a baby pressing on my lungs and shallow breaths, not to mention major heartbreak.) So I sat and watched the other couples in the group. Even the Bear was trying hard to concentrate on the activity. I thought that was interesting, him giving into his inner hippie. Mostly I just sat and thought about my old man and how much I miss him already.
Today at the internship. Nobody has said anything to me about the cat. I am glad and pissed at the same time. Glad because I don’t want to deal with it anymore, pissed because shouldn’t they recognize suffering and give sympathy? Love Child asked how my weekend was and I said shitty and that my cat died. She gasped and said “Not grandpa!!” and then went into the “I’m so sorry” spiel. It was kind of n ice. I invited her to the wake. Whether or not she’ll come is a mystery. Zanna and Nerd said they might venture into the burbs from the city (SHOCK OF ALL SHOCKS!!) but I am not holding my breath. I would rather stay in the city then go out to yuppieville.

Better get to the intern work. Hahahaha….

Monday, January 09, 2006

Seems dumb that I am starting over with the blog thing but it is a new year. New stories, new adventures, different names. same saracsim. some names that have changed? Pepe, MY, Boy... ahh hell, you'll figure it out.

check check... one two....

I am good at what I do. I am good at listening to people and their stories and offering advice. Take it or leave it. That’s why I am interested in therapy and social work. However I have ran into one little man that I can’t seem to figure out how to help in anyway. Mostly, this is because of a large language barrier between the two of us. I speak English, and he…. Meows.Princess Poopy Paws is having some trouble adjusting to the life without our old man around. I know it has been only over 24 hours but you can tell that he is having problems. What are the signs? Well, there are a few glaring ones right away:

He won’t eat. Poopy paws is a small cat that weighs 13 pounds. He is a rolly polly, jabba the hut looking creature. The fact that he is refusing to eat is a major warning sign that there is kitty depression going on.

He won’t purr. Being the center of attecntion is one of the little guy’s favorite things. Usually he rolls on his back and purrs to get your attention. Then, with those bright blue eyes looking at you, taunting you to “love him”, he grins and comes over for a pet and a purr. He is the definition of “slut for attention”.He won’t come near our bed, or where our old man once slept. He will sit under it, under the cradle, or on my vanity stool and watch me on the bed, bet never on the bed.

Those perky blue eyes are now rather empty looking. He sits on his tower and stares at us on the couch. No sleeping up there, just watching. And it’s not the friendly, “when they aren’t looking I think I will attack their blankie” look. It’s one of quiet remorse. I have that look after death too.

No one can hold him. He is skitterish and runs away if you attempt to try to hold him.Last night he slept on the floor of our bedroom on a fallen body pillow. I joined him, to keep him company at about 5am. We just laid there, us two rolly pollies, and looked at each other until we were asleep again.

I figure all this is because he came out from under the crib in our Old man’s final moments and watched him die and me get hysterical. The bear wasn’t so great either, he cried as well but then took matters into the right hands and called the vet etc and got us ready to take gpa’s body to the all night vet for cremation. Poopy paws was scared, I am sure, to see us all in that state.How do you counsel a cat though? No way am I going to let the vet put him on Prozac, the cat is nutty enough as it is. I guess I will only have to wait and see what time says.How am I doing? With no old man to snuggle, the nights are hard and we cry a lot still. Days are easier, because there is more to do and less to think about. I called in sick to work today (I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY THINK!!!) and then called the vet to tell him of the gap man’s demise. The receptionist area was heartbroken. You could hear it in their voices. They knew Gpa by sight and name and history and all that jazz. We are going to send the vet a thank you card and a photo of grandpa. The caption of the photo reads, “Growing old ain’t for sissies”.

People keep asking me if I am going to get another cat. No. Not now. Too disrespectful to my man.Hurricane (formally known as BH) got my text when she pulled into civilization after doing her elk study for the weekend up in the hills in New Mexico. She pulled over in a McDonald’s parking lot and called me immediately to chat. Couldn’t hear her too well (the ears are improving by the way. Now I am hard of hearing again but my “bad ear” is now the good one and vise versa.) She spent half an hour there talking to me. That’s what best friends are for.We are having the wake on the 20th. The boy (aka bear) decided to go all out and have it catered and what not. He really loved that cat.