Whoa. Didn’t see that one coming. Apparently today is our one year anniversary.
So in honor of Sam and I’s one year anniversary here is a cute picture of Ginger.
Tag: meisaj
Its about me.
Thank you
Thank you Mississippi. My slight faith in this country not to fall to idiocy and crazy ideas has been reinforced.
Really, it would have been sad, no… scary if the ‘personhood’ bill had passed. I think I would have had to avoid that state at all costs. Not that I visit Mississippi often, but I probably would have tried not to cross state lines.
Also, Herman Cain comes across like a giant idiot. “Democrat Machines” are responsible for his roaming hands years ago. It is just sad. Or when he defended himself by saying “Even my wife knows that’s not me.” I’m not even saying he harassed any of those women, but when he retorts with “Democratic Machines” and a defense based around his wife knowing him it’s clear he’s hiding something.
Working it out
The piece of wood fell out of my hand today. That’s a big victory. And on my calf I can feel the sliver of wood working its way out of my skin. Its really weird to reach back on my calf and feel a spike sticking out of there.
Sam is currently eating a boiled egg sandwich of some sort next to me. Boiled eggs freak me out. They are just bizarre and smell awful. Extremely awful. Deviled eggs are even worse. Blerg.
Time for a quick story thanks to Rory’s Story Cubes:
In land just across the see was a sad man. He was sad for many reasons. Sad that he lived by a giant pyramid – it blocked out the sun. Sad that apple tree only produced Granny Smith Apples in his front yard – he like Golden Delicious. Sad that his house only had one fireplace – it was on the other end from his bedroom. The sad man had many things that contributed to his sadness.
One day he saw something didn’t make him said. A child. The child herself wasn’t all that unsaddening, it was her shadow that surprised the man. Her shadow was in the shape of a cat. How this happened the man didn’t know. Its not like the child was mishapen or anything. No, she was normal shape that’s for sure. But her shadow, it was definitely a cat shadow.
The sad man invited the child to have a picnic with him. He brought a basket full of peanut butter sandwiches to the park and they sat on a blanket near the old stone bridge. He told her of his old career as an actor and how it made him feel – sad. He also told her about how he used to be a judge in a small claims court – this also made him sad.
He told her how everything made him sad, except her shadow. He confided this in the girl.
She in turn told him a secret. The secret about her shadow, the L-shaped house she lived in and why she had no name.
_______________________________
Not a bad start to a story, I feel like Rory’s Story Cubes is good for writing the beginnings of stories, which is probably where my strengths lie anyways.
No time for love
“No time for love Dr Jones!!”
I think that is my favorite line from any Indiana Jones movie.
I don’t have time to write a long entry this morning. After exercising, showering, scooping kitty litter, and making coffee its time to go already. I’ll pick up the slack tonight.
However, I woke up, unsurprisingly, with a song stuck in my head. Its ‘The Hardest Button to Button’ by the White Stripes. Good song to have stuck in your head in the am. Gets me going with an energetic start to the day (that I’m sure will be ground down to nothing after arriving at work).
So…
So I’m not going to have time to write 750 words this morning in the next, 8 or so minutes. It’s just not enough time.
I am quite proud that Sam and I got up this morning to exercise before work. Her to do some morning yoga stretches or something or another (I don’t do yoga…. hate it). Me to ride my exercise bike for twenty minutes. And I did take it rather easy, my calf, for obvious reasons, doesn’t feel the best. But I thought getting some blood pumping through the bruise would be good for it also.
I had a very strange dream last night. Two actually. Unfortunately the first came right before the first alarm went off and instantly disappeared into the mist when I went to sleep for another 15 minutes.
In the second though I was living in this same apartment sometime in the near future. Oscar was dead (my cat). While walking through the dinning area of my apartment the floor boards started to rumble. They started cracking and a box pushed up through the floor boards. It was Oscar. I had apparently buried him underneath the floor of our apartment when he died.
I picked up the box and tried to keep him in it while he kept trying to get out. At first he clearly dead and rotting like a zombie cat would be, but as the dream went on he kept getting healthier and healthier until at the end of the dream I let him out of the box because he was perfectly fine.
While this was going on Sam was on the phone (in my dream) with someone who was telling her to pick up her two pets. These two pets they were referring to had died when she was a child and they wanted her to pick up their now animated bodies. I kept telling her to hang up, and she finally told the person she wasn’t driving to Madison to pick up some quasi-alive animals.
__________
What I really got out of the dream, or what caused me to think when I woke up was that when Oscar pushed out of the floorboards in his box there was dirt everywhere. When I woke up I immediately knew this wasn’t right. I live on the third floor, there wouldn’t be dirt.
Then I got thinking. I don’t like that there isn’t dirt underneath my floor. That kind of bugs me.
Time for work. 418 words. Not bad for a quick morning entry.
My Nose
I’ve been thinking about my nose today. Weird I know, who thinks about their nose, but mine has been sore lately. Blowing it too much. My biggest issue with my nose is that I broke it when I was younger.
Now I’m not sure if I really broke it or not, I just know it bled for an inordinate amount of time. Hours. Or what seemed like hours. It was the summer after 8th grade and I was at a wrestling camp. I was wrestling someone much heavier than me and he kneed me in the nose, cause it to bleed profusely right away.
I don’t remember everything that was being said at me afterward, but the lady looking at me definitely said “I’m not positive its broken. I’m not a real doctor or nurse. I’m going to school here to be a nurse.” The camp was held on a college campus. I held a towel to it for a few hours an seemed ok later.
However, ever since then my nose has been crooked. It isn’t visible crocked, but looked at from underneath you can see that it is off center. The nasal septum definitely tilts to the right. The problem lies that when I blow my nose a lot it causes the tissue around the septum crack against the septum. It also cracks in the inner corners of my nose making it painful to blow my nose.
I once got told by a doctor that he could fix my nose, but he would have to break it in order to do that. Which in my mind seems a little extreme. They told me the same think about “special pinkie.”
____________________
In other news I’ve spent today shocked at how bruised up my calf is from yesterday’s fall out of the tree. It really wasn’t that big of a fall…. but man did it do some damage. I’ve a solid purple bruise on my calf that has only gotten bigger as the day went on.
It really is impressive. Doesn’t worry me at all (although Sam is a little worried). I find it more amusing than anything else.
I’ve always figured I should “trust my body” to take care of itself. It must come from my parents. My mom always told me that she (and I assume my father) figured that ‘I’d be fine.’ Whatever the situation going on, they always figured I’d be fine. I’ve got a nice story about my mother letting me walk home late at night in the rain rather than pick me up because “I’d be fine.” I’m saving it for her funeral.
Anyways, I think that my body will be strong and take of itself, like I said. I trust it to heal itself, and for even relatively major injuries to get better fast. The doctors thought my appendix would kill me, I survived (take that gangrene). The doctors didn’t think I’d get full rotation of movement in my collarbone, I did (and now I’m titanium enhanced!!). So when I am sore, bruised, or swollen I trust my body to get me through it.
Doesn’t make the smartest person out there when it comes to my body, but I like to think I will always come away with a great story to tell.
Of course I am typing this as I ice my leg with two cans of frozen orange juice.
___________________
Hmmm. 605 words so far. Although I’m not sure if the word count includes the code to insert the picture or not. I’m pretty sure it does, but I’ll count that. At least today I’ll count it. Tomorrow, maybe not.
But regardless it was good to sit down and type something out about the day. The more I do this I suppose the easier it will be. The tough part seems to be that I have lots of idea of what to write, but I don’t always have time to write stuff down when I think of it.
I need to maybe keep a not pad near me to jot my ideas down. Maybe I’ll use my phone to record the ideas and revisit them later when I sit down to type. And I haven’t figured out whether multiple entries in a day count towards the 750 words or if I need one 750 word entry a day and make the rest just extra.
We’ll see tomorrow morning when I sit down to type something.
(780 words. Bam)