Now Playing -
a Seinfeld rerun.
Now Eating -
drinking, agua.
Now Feeling -
like someone shoved an icepick in my sinus.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
Yeah, I'm still alive. Funny how one can be both busy and lazy at the same time. Busy in that I'm still running around all day administering classroom evaluations, and lazy in that I'm not cooking nearly enough and certainly not taking advantage of my recently renewed gym membership. C'est la doggone vie, as the Oklahoman ex-boyfriend's mother used to say.
So the hair takes quite a bit of work in the mornings. And yes, I had to break down and buy some "product." I think it's the same stuff the stylist put on me. But I still like the cut. Even though I've pretty much given up on the "flippy" part of it. Sorry to disappoint, but it would take way more time than I have in the mornings. Way.
Oh, did my back go out on me last weekend. I fell asleep on either the couch or chair Friday night, and woke up at 3 a.m. Saturday morning in full spasm. I had to kneel in front of the sink to brush my teeth and (attempt to) wash my face. It was worse when I got up in the morning, so much so that I was hobbling around the apartment. I put in an emergency call to the doctor, which is something I never do. And he called right back, prescribed some medicine that did nothing except make my stomach weird, and told me to take a hot bath. Cue Elaine Stritch: "Does anyone still take...a bath?" But luckily, we had the Homedics heat massage thingy I got Huz last Christmas, and after a liberal application to my lower back, I was able to walk upright. I've been making good use of that thing.
So I've found another pain medication that does nothing for me. The stuff he prescribed was Bextra. Nada. Except maybe a little stomach uneasiness. Reminded me of the Naprosyn (remember Aleve before Aleve was OTC?) I got when I sprained my ankle while doing A Chorus Line. Now I'm thinking, if I ever get my damned wisdom teeth out, I'm going to need the hard stuff. Because these fair-to-middling drugs don't do a damn thing. And that dental surgery thing may be happening sooner rather than later, because (like someone else we know) I have a wicked headache that may be tooth-related! Whee!
Ah, the joy in the physical. Such fun. Perhaps I should drop that and try to talk about something interesting.
Last Sunday night, I went and saw Wonderful Town with The Fabulous. 'Twas indeed quite wonderful, and further convinced me that Ruth Sherwood is a role The Fab was born to play. And this past Friday, Huz and I enjoyed an evening of "Living Room Theatre" (which I'm thinking David should trademark) and saw my friend Rick in his Poe show. Which was interesting, and quite a different role for Rick, who usually plays the funny "second banana" roles.
It was decided that when my next Belle of Amherst rolls around, we'll do an evening of Living Room Theatre as a brush-up. Hopefully Huz will be able to fit it into his schedule, as he hasn't seen me perform it yet.
We came home with some lovely fuschia spray roses courtesy of Rick's day job. Rick did the flowers for my wedding, and I pretty much call him whenever I have "floral needs." When my father-in-law died (gosh, it'll be two years in January), the role of floral organizer fell to me, because I knew I could call on Rick. We decided on a heart arrangement from MIL, and from his children and grandchildren, we chose...a horseshoe. Which might seem wildly inappropriate ("Good Luck in the Afterlife?") until you learn that my FIL loved playing the horses. Some of my husband's happiest childhood memories involved spending time at Belmont Raceway with his dad. So we figured, screw it -- anyone who was offended by a good luck horseshoe at a funeral wasn't close enough to my father-in-law for us to care about their opinion.
The day of the funeral, it was cold, and sleeting, and miserable. Huz and I were still apartmentless and living in our respective childhood abodes. I met him at my in-laws house early, so we could all drive to the funeral home together. I was getting out of my car, and Huz was at the foot of their unpaved driveway shoveling away some snow. His shovel hit something, and I saw him bend down to pick it up. He called me over, and in his hand was an iron horseshoe. We don't know if his father buried it there when they moved in, or if it predated that, but the fact that it was unearthed on the morning of his funeral was enough for me.
It sits on the mantel now, next to the trifolded American flag presented to his widow.
Signs and symbols. Sometimes that's what you need to get you through.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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