My Poor Outdated Webpage

*sigh*

I can't seem to motivate myself to update and fix-up my little personal webpage. Not that it's all that and a box of poprocks or anything, but I've done a LOT better 3-d work than I've got sitting up there and the links suck.

Besides of which, I really DO need to post a sizeable rant about the THIEVES at UPS.

And the links are all either broken or outdated because I have changed direction in my own interests and life.

And I really want to put in a link to Mike's airplanes, because Mike builds awesome, incredible HUGE, gorgeous radio-control model aircraft. In fact - check it out for yourself. And that is only the prototype - Black Magic v2 is so beautiful it's heartbreaking.

Now if we could just get Vio to post his artwork.....

Or get Randy to give me a linky to his latest website.

Or get Pirate to answer my e-mails!! *glare*

I don't want much. Just... everything. *grin*

Is there a Dr. in the house?

So my little friend Kal (short for Kalshassan), the inventor and teacher of the KOOCHD, and a gorgeous young man, is working on becoming an ambulance service person in Scotland, and I couldn't be more proud of him.

Once over 30 years ago I had to perform artificial respiration on a friend who had collapsed with an epileptic fit - but I never learned how to do CPR, although I'd always intended to take the class.

The company I work for bought a defibrilator unit (spelling?) this month, and are offering a class on how to operate it, and on basic CPR at work in 2 weeks - and I signed up for it.

Here's to you, Kal, you've been an inspiration and motivating force for this old lady. *hugs*

Things that go "Bump" in the afternoon

Story Here

This happened less than 2 miles from my house. No wonder all the local fire and ambulance folk were out in force! Sirens like mad!

Telephone Etiquette

The phone company has come up with some really nifty devices to make people's telephoning experiences special and memorable.

Take, for instance, Caller ID.

Caller ID is great. I can decide whether to take a call or not, just by looking at the little display screen. This is a good thing.

Unfortunately, some people without brains have Caller ID as well. For instance, there is the young man who called here at work just a few minutes ago. "Did someone call me from there?"

Now. 1) he didn't identify himself, so how the hell do I know?
2) He is calling a business with 11 outgoing lines and at least 30 telephones. Does he think people have to check in with me every time they make a call?
3) If he is calling back everyone who shows up on Caller ID - he obviously needs a more challenging job.

*growl*

So here I am

Back at work.

Taking meds I probably shouldn't, but which make it possible for me to be back at work. I just can't stand sitting at home - sleeping - reading - eating bad sandwiches....

At least here I am doing SOMETHING - and the bad meds along with some hot tea and a stick of gum - are making me get thru the day so far without anything worse than a bunch of coughing.

Being sick is really the ultimate pits. I don't recommend it.

But I'm getting better, and that is what counts. Last nite I couldn't sleep (got my day/nite cycle screwed up) so I worked more on the Ocean/Fishy quilt. Not a lot, but every bit done is a bit I don't have to do again!

The Prince suggested that I make quilts to sell on E-Bay.

My first reaction was "HELL NO" - but now I'm rethinking.
sorta.

maybe.

I'll let ya know.

I have a cold

Not just "a cold"
A wing-ding-dong-dilly of a cold.

I not only know the exact size and shape of every sinus cavity in my head, I also know the precise volume of snot that each will release given a really GOOD blow.

Coughing is a whole new exercise in anti-vomiting techniques. I am the repository of all that is mucus, and precious little else. I am cold - yet when I bundle up, my own body warmth causes outbreaks of the sweats. I cough up a lung.

That little space between the nose and upper lip - right between the two nostrils - has become the epicenter of raw and inflamed tissue.

Dextromethorphan is our friend.
Pseudoephedrine is not - but we sure as hell wish it was.
Guaifenesin really tries, but is not an acceptable substitute.
I have a headache THIS >--------------------------------------< big and it has Excedrine written all over it.

I want to die.
*coughs*

The Evil Within

Sometimes I wonder about me. Sometimes I am very gleeful at things that are not good happening to others.

I found out today that someone I utterly despise - is getting a divorce. My first reaction, and honestly, the one I still am holding as I type this - is that it couldn't be happening to a more deserving guy.

The man is a misogynist nightmare - an Xtian with his head so far up his ass it's probably necessary for him to have a plate-glass bellybutton just to walk forward.

I have always felt the utmost sympathy and pity for his wife. Now I'm just happy for her - I feel nothing but contempt still for him.

The Evil Within

This afternoon my boss called me into his office, and told me something that has me utterly stunned. Some years back I worked for a guy who was one of the most genuinely evil individuals I've ever met. Lying, scheming, cheating - he was utterly worthless as a human being, IMNSHO.

This man tried his best to destroy me - to ruin my life, to make me completely and utterly destitute and miserable.

Monday night he was killed in an aircraft crash.

And I'm not sad.

And I wonder... should I be?

It's only Rock 'n Roll...

This weekend I experienced a phenomenon that took my breath away. Beside being transported back to my somewhat unruly late teen years, I got to see something most people never see. Jumpin' Jack Flash.

3 dead guys playing music. Please allow me to introduce myself...

Ok, ok - yeah, I'm being facetious - but it's really amazing that these guys who did everything "wrong" - are still going that hard at mid-60's. Hey!! You!! Get off my cloud...

Monday night I was at the United Center in Chicago, up in section 306, row 10. A bit nose-bleed, but thanks to the jumbotron screen set up behind the main stage, the view was awesome..... Much BETTER than our seats in the nose-bleed section of the old Chicago Stadium back in 1974. Not as good as the "right behind the stage" skybox tickets in 1999, but... You can't always get what you want....

For the 3rd time in my life I got to see the Rolling Stones in concert. The guy on WLUP had it right - once you've seen the Rolling Stones, everything else is JUST a concert. Yeah, when you call my name, salivate like a Pavlov dog...

But coming out of that arena - bag of overpriced souvenier merchandise in my hand, a sort of sweet, nostalgic mesmerized feeling was swimming in my head. Things I hadn't thought about in years - Susan sitting in the passenger seat next to me as we drove back down I-290, flipping off the East Avenue bridge, remembering Dippy and Chico and the night we banged up the Pinto. I sit and watch, as tears go by....

Still missing JS after all these years, sometimes. Laughter, joy and loneliness...

Was it worth the exhorbitant price of the admission ticket? The rediculous price of parking? The 2 vacation days taken to get ready for Susan coming up to visit, and to recouperate from the long night? Let's spend the night together....

OH HELL YES!!!!!!!!!!

It's only Rock 'n Roll, but I like it... like it... yes I do.

Just a week and a half to go....

January 23 - United Center!!!

I get to see the Rolling Stones again. Woohoo!!! So I got the "A Bigger Bang" CD so I'd know the songs before the concert - wow, is this a good album. I love some of the songs - certainly the 2 that are getting airplay, but "Sweet Neocon" is a hoot!

But my favorite is one of the "airtime" ones - "Oh No, Not You Again!"

*grin*


I noticed they changed the lyrics for the radio version.... damn neocons.....

I have a dream

Nononono - this isn't going to be some thought-provoking neopolitical tripe like MLK's speech.

Last nite I had a vivid dream. Stupid, but vivid. I dreamed I was asking my new doctor - who was female - if she would be writing script for me to get my meds refilled. DUH.

I've had a lot of weird dreams. Every year or so I have the one where all my teeth fall out - my annual "Make that dentist's appointment and get the choppers cleaned!" self-reminder. As a kid, I used to be able to fly in my dreams. It was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

When I was pregnant - I used to have the WILDEST dreams. I remember one clearly, I was kneeling in the dirt behind the parents' garage, burying a shoebox full of vegetables like carrots and turnips. I have no idea why.

I also remember the dream rooms. These rooms either started from the top of the stairs in my grandmother's house in Chicago - or behind the bookshelf (why do I always hear Terri Garr saying "behint zee booksheff" from Young Frankenstein?) in my childhood bedroom.

There wasnt' anything "ominous" or "frightening" - nothing magical - just a set of stairs and my curiosity to see what was there. Rooms decorated in golds and greens, heavy flocked wallpaper and lots of fringe. Carved woodwork stained dark. Frosted-globe light fixtures, curving thick bannisters and carpeted staircases...

I can still see them. I wish I could live there. It was pretty.

Maybe I should go phone up my doctor...