What a faker!

So it's been a really long day today. I was up late last night working on a few things for school and I fell asleep on the spare bed in the office. I laid down for "just a minute" and the next thing I knew Mike was waking me up about 8 this morning. He said that he'd decided not to go to work and that he wasn't feeling too great. I started to go back to sleep and Mike started telling me about this pressure he was feeling on the left side of his back. I felt his pulse and asked him the standard "Are your fingers numb? Do you have radiating pain?" questions. He wasn't in pain - he just "didn't feel right." I gave him my bed and went out to the living room. I grabbed the doctor book and told him that I was going to try and make him an appointment with a doctor. He didn't want me to. I told him to take a nap and we'd see how he felt in a little while.

He must have been a little more worried than he let on because he called me into the bedroom shortly after and said if I found an urgent care place, he'd go. So we loaded up and headed to the closest one I could find. We got there and they took him right back in. They talked to him and poked around on his chest a little bit - took his blood pressure and whatnot. The P.A. student declared him her first "medical mystery" of the day. The doctor came in and said that he thought we should to the emergency room. He didn't necessarily think it was anything serious but they didn't have the proper equipment to do a cardiac work-up to make sure.

So, we loaded back up and drove the short distance to Our Lady of the Resurrection hospital. We went in and told the registration lady what was going on. The triage nurse came and whisked Mike off to the back right away and I was left out front to fill out paperwork. I wasn't prepared for the violent reaction I had to the E.R. I hadn't been too concerned but as soon as I walked into the E.R. and they took him away from me, I was sick at my stomach and shaking. It didn't take me long to fill out the paperwork but by the time I got back to his E.R. room, he'd been stripped down, hooked up to a cardiac monitor, inserted with an I.V., they'd taken blood for his first set of cardiac enzymes, he'd seen the doctor and they were doing an EKG.

I spent the next few hours on the verge of tears. Mike kept looking over at me and saying, "Stop worrying." But it was definitely not something I had any control over. The whole E.R. atmosphere is not something I can deal with anymore. It literally gave me hives. Left-over reaction from visiting my mom in the hospital, I suppose.

My only complaint with our visit was that nobody came in to talk to us at all. (Well that and the fact that we didn't have a tv in our room to watch while we waited...and waited...and waited). Nobody checked on Mike, nobody gave us any blood results, nobody came and said "This is what's going on." After we'd been there a couple of hours, a Polish lady came to pick Mike up to take him for a stress test. This really freaked me out. A stress test wasn't something I'd expected and I followed along. They hooked him up to the cardiac monitoring stuff there and prepared him to get on the treadmill. Nancy happened by and I struck up a little conversation with her. I asked her what the stress test was going to be monitoring exactly because I hadn't expected them to do it and I was kinda freaked out about it. She said that the test was a good sign. If his cardiac enzymes had been off, they wouldn't have done this test. They were going to put him on a treadmill, get his heart rate pumping and see how his heart performed under the "Stress." Hence "stress test." I felt much better, although not at ease. I chatted with the nurses and the cardiologist while Mike did his work out. My anxiety must have shown a bit because when it was done, the cardiologist said that everything looked great.

We went back to the room, where we sat for another loooooooooooooooong time. They hadn't hooked Mike back up to the monitoring system, which I took to be a good sign. Finally the doctor came back in and said that his stress test was good and that he was going to do a chest x-ray. Provided that came out clear, Mike would be good to go. I took a moment to go out and make a phone call. When I came back in, they'd taken the x-ray and we were just waiting for results.

Fast forward.

Finally the doctor came back in and said that Mike had big lungs - and that they were clear. No problems there. He said he didn't know precisely what had caused the pressure but it wasn't his heart or his lungs. Most likely some sort of muscle strain or spasms. He'd send the nurse into take out the IV and send us home.

Fast forward some more and we're on our way out the door. Mike's feeling better and he's fine. We went into the E.R. about 10 am and left after 3 pm. I am still a bit of a wreck. I'm exhausted. Too much drama!

Oh, and file this under "funny but true." In the E.R. they have a board on the wall that lists the last name of the patients they have and the room number they were in. Kurczewski was right there in Room 5. And in room 10? Somebody named Piekarski. I kid you not. Only in Chicago. Well, or possibly the suburbs of Detroit, I guess. :D

Fair Warning

While I was waiting for Mike to arrive to pick me up from school today, I used their computer lab to upload some pictures from my email and a couple of blogs. For some reason, I can't save pictures to my computer and bring them back up again. So, over the next few days/week or so you will probably be seeing a few different images that I have been sent to me by others or borrowed from other people's blogs. Such as my Aunt Linda's (seen below).

Uncle Mike has made the blog a time or two, I figured it was definitely Aunt Linda's turn. This picture shamelessly "borrowed" from her blog.

My Favorite Dr. Seuss

Oh, the Places You'll Go!
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You’ll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don' t
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And If you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

---Dr. Seuss

Electric Bill, Schectric Bill

The other day, Mike came home and the first words out of his mouth were, "Do you really need the air conditioner on? It's not that hot out." Ordinarily my response might have been, "Do you really need to sleep in the bed? Our couch is so comfortable." But this time, I just thought, "Ah, yes - The electricity nazi...I expected you earlier." Not surprising, actually. We just paid our first "summer" electric bill.

Last night, as he was heading down the stairs to bed, he said, "You can turn the a/c on tomorrow. It's supposed to be hot."

I thought, "Oh, that's so cute. He's giving me permission." I wonder if he really thinks I'd have suffered through the heat? :D Although maybe he knows that I wouldn't...which is why he said it. That way I don't have to worry that I'm going against his wishes. Which is very considerate of him. Not that it would have stopped me anyway...:D...but still considerate. It avoids the two otherwise likely scenarios.

Scenario 1: Conversation Option 1

Mike: Why is the air conditioning on?

Cindi: Because I forgot to turn it off before you got home.

Scenario 2: Conversation Option 2

Mike: Why is the electric bill so high?!

Cindi: I don't know. We're getting screwed! We should call and complain.

An Itch in Time

I found the cartoon on Internet Movie Database. It's called An Itch in Time. This is the only picture of the flea I could find.

I couldn't figure out how to post it on the blog but just click to hear the flea singing.

My mom really enjoyed this cartoon - she used to sing the song to the puppies when she was giving them treats.

The Golden Child

I have a lot of pictures of Furio that I've put up lately but not any of Meme..."the baby"...or as Mike calls her our "Golden Child." He calls her this because she is the most expensive cat on the planet as a result of the emergency surgery she had to have about four months ago. So I looked over and saw her sleeping on out guest bed and snapped this picture.

After I took the picture, she opened her eyes and realized that she was being photographed, so she started doing this -

What a ham!

A Patriotic Couch

I should have posted this picture of Mike on the 4th of July.

Thank you...thank you ver' much

Oh my gosh! I sent Mike to Walgreen's on an errand and he came back home with a present for me. Isn't it adorable?! I love Elvis.

"The King Size"....I love it!!

A Conversation

Mike: I appreciate that thing you said on the blog.
Cindi: Which thing?
Mike: About how you'd take me over J.D. Fortune. I don't know if it's true but I appreciate that you said it.
Cindi: Yeah, well, let's hope we never have to test the theory.
Mike: (laugh)

My Homework

1) What was something Mom always said to you?
“Drive easy.”
“It’s a great life…if you don’t weaken.”
“These things have a way of working themselves out.”

2) What made Mom happy?
Her weiner dogs, my Uncle Mike, trading movie quotes with Matt and I

3) What made Mom sad?
When I left after a visit, talking about Matt after he died, getting sick and missing my wedding

4) How did Mom make you laugh?
Making fun of my dad, never being able to tell a joke because she would laugh when she though about how funny it was

5) What was Mom like as a child?
According to my Uncle Mike, vicious. He claims he only has limited movement of his right arm due to the beatings he took.

6) how old was your mom?
She would be 58 and a half

7) How tall was your mom?
5’4

8) What was her favorite thing to do?
Go to auctions – especially when she’d get a big box full of useless crap for a dollar

9) What did your mom do when you are away?
The same thing she did when I was around.

10) What would your mom be famous for?
Her “rapists’ wit” ...(that’s from Dumb and Dumber)

11) What was your mom really good at?
She was a great nurse and she made the best banana bread in the world.

12) What was your mom not very good at?
Being patient - especially with my Dad, putting up with whiny people

13) What did your mom do for a job?
She was a nurse.

14) What was your mom’s favorite food?
I don’t know that she had an absolute favorite. She loved sweets, sterzings and maid-rites.

15) What made you proud of your mom?
My mom made it through nursing school as a single mom while my big brother was little, she was a great nurse who (I know for a fact) saved lives.

16) If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Underdog. Or that hillbilly flea in the old cartoon that sang, “food around the corner, food around the corner…” – she liked that one.

17) What did you and your mom do together?
Talk, make fun of other people, shopping

18) How are you and your mom the same?
Neither one of us are patient, we’re both pushy, loud-mouth broads, we look alike

19) How are you and your mom different?
She was very stoic when she was hurting while I’m a big whiner. I do not suffer alone. :D If I’m not happy, ain’t nobody happy.

20) How do you know your mom loved you?
She told me all the time, she tried to give me everything I wanted, she was always really excited when I came home to visit and hugged me for an extra few moments when I was leaving, she tried to keep me from worrying about her

Speaking of Baby JO-ey

Speaking of Big Boy JO-ey, I mean...the last time I went to Big Boy JO-ey's house, for his brother Alex's birthday party, I got in trouble. Upon returning home, I told Mike the story. He thought it was quite amusing and now...every time I say "shut up" within Mike's earshot, I am forced to apologize.

**For those who weren't in attendance at the party, I was telling Andrea (Big Boy JO-ey's mom) about Mike getting mad at Furio for waking him up in the middle of the night by playing with some of his noise-making toys and telling him to "shut up." I was informed by Big Boy JO-ey that "shut up" was taboo at his house. (He didn't actually use the word taboo...he's five)...but I had to apologize before I was allowed to accompany every one else into the other room to watch his kindergarten graduation.

Baby Picture Friday

So it's baby picture Friday here at Mike and Cindi. Although we're not actually baby-babies. In much the same way that Baby JO-ey isn't really a baby anymore. I suppose I will have to get used to calling him Big Boy JO-ey now. But I digress.

Here we see what happens when you're the only boy born into a family of girls - they turn you into one of Charlie's angels.
Why is it that our parents seem to just wait for us to fall asleep so they can get pictures like this? In Caleb's case I always assumed it was because they only time you could get him to stand still long enough to get a picture was when he was asleep. But I was a lovely child, so that can't be the reason in my case. Do they make you sign a contract when you get pregnant that says you have to take sleeping pictures of your kids and pictures of them in the bathtub?

Missing

Well, as you may be able to tell from my pathetic lack of posts for the past couple of days, school has started back up for me after my fourth of July week break. Yuck. Actually after a week long break before that due to the flood in my house.


We had that nasty heat wave over the weekend but the last couple of days, it rained and cool everything off nicely.

Not that I've used the cooler weather to DO anything. I've been working on stuff for class most of the week. I can't wait until these stupid summer classes are over. I have three of the most boring classes on the planet. Two more weeks, though, and they'll be over.

The saddest part of this post? I have nothing to say. I'm literally sitting here thinking, "My life is so boring."

How about a story? When Caleb was little, he used to love water. To an obnoxious degree. The minute he got to your house he wanted to take a bath. He was even, on occasion, known to play in the toilet. Usually "playing" in the toilet meant putting his toys in the toilet and flushing them down. Once he got a little fisher price fishing pole for Christmas and continually flushed the plastic hook down the toilet under it finally got stuck once and my mom had to cut the string. My mother never condoned playing in the toilet but by the time he was six or so, she was getting really aggravated with him about it.

"He's too big to be playing in the toilet!" She'd say.

"And exactly when is it ok to play in the toilet?" I'd reply.

Then one visit when he was about six, he came over and we didn't see him for a short time. When Caleb was young (and probably now, too), this usually meant something was up. We went looking for him and found him and everything was fine. Until someone went into the bathroom after that. Something was up with the toilet - that much was clear. My dad worked on it for a bit and told my mom that he was going to have to go to the store and buy a whole new toilet and replace it. My mom called Caleb back to the bathroom and irritably asked Cal if he'd been playing in the toilet again. Caleb assured us both that he hadn't been anywhere near the toilet because she didn't like it when he did that. Now my mom had raised three kids before Cal came along and she was no dummy. She said, "Caleb Lynn...your grandfather is going to be tearing this toilet apart and putting in a new one. Are you sure that he's not going to find one of your toys?"

Caleb paused for a moment, apparently weighing his options before saying, "You know, Grandma. I might be missing one of my boats."

Fun With Misters

Mike, our friend Leigh and I went to Milwaukee yesterday. We went to see INXS play at Summerfest. It was hot. Not just hot. H.O.T. The temp topped out at 99 according to the Weather Channel. Add the broiling sun to that and you have the recipe for baked Kurczewski. We got there at 3:00 so that we could get good seats. We were in the fifth row. I know what you're thinking...who waits five hours to see INXS? Um, hello? Have you ever seen J.D. Fortune?

And in our defense, if you got there between noon and 4:00, admission to Summerfest was free. So we were there early and it was too dog-gone hot to walk around much. So we got to the stage and camped out. There were people who'd been there even longer than us.

Leigh was hardcore. She stuck it out at the stage the entire time. I went over to sit in a shady spot on the sidewalk for awhile once and headed to the "cool down tent" for a little bit before the show started. The cool down tent was friggin' awesome. One of the hospitals had set up a tent and had a huge industrial size air conditioner pumping cold air into it. When you got too hot, you could dip in for a cool off. They limited the number of people they let in at a time but they didn't give you a time limit. Most people were pretty considerate and if you had to wait in a line outside, it wasn't for very long. Mike took off to do a little walking around and came back with a lemonade shaved ice (and a near heat stroke). We'd brought a washcloth and frozen some large bottles of water so we swabbed him down with ice water and pretty soon he felt better. The lemonade ice didn't last long, so Mike walked down a little ways to the vendor and got another lemonade for Leigh and a strawberry for he and I. Along with the ices, he came back with a little squirt bottle mister with an attached fan. He's a genius. We kept ourselves as cool as possible with the aid of the fan and the shaved ice.

Shortly before the show was to begin, someone had brought beach balls and the crowd was entertaining themselves with them. Mike was turned and watching the bouncing beach balls when I decided to squirt him. I did this (see below) on his back and he didn't even feel it. He couldn't figure out what Leigh and I were laughing about.


But he laughed too when he saw the picture. He's such a good sport.

The concert started and (naturally) everybody had to stand on their bench. Everyone except me, that is. Nooooo way was I getting my clumsy butt up there. People were jumping and dancing on them and the benches shook and wobbled like crazy. There were four rows of people in front of us and I'm so short that even if I'd gotten up on the bench I'd have had a hard time seeing. Oh I got to see a little bit but I was definitely in an obstructed view seat. Determined that I would get to see what I had waited five hours in the sun for, my dear sweet Mike jumped up on the bench, took my digital camera and took about 80 pictures of J.D. Fortune and the band (mostly J.D. Hey...he knows why we were there. :D) for me. The picture above is one that he took.

Sometimes people take their husband/wife for granted and forget what makes them so special. Not me. I'm constantly reminded about what makes Mike special. I know some women's husbands who wouldn't drive them and their crazy friend to Milwaukee. (I love Leigh but she's a little nutty.) I know a lot of women's husbands who wouldn't suffer through five hours in the blazing sun in 100 degree weather to see a band they don't even like. I know even more women's husbands who wouldn't take pictures of another man that their wife drools over on a semi-regular basis. Mike did all of these things and he doesn't even realize that he's doing something special. He's just Mike. Take him or leave him. You could serve me up J.D. Fortune on a silver platter

and I'd still take Mike every time.

Summerfest!

Who says you have to pay $30 to have one of the band's t-shirts?

Furio

"No my first name ain't kitty,

It's Furio.

Mr. Giunta if you're nasty."

An Email Exchange Between My Mom and My Cat

Date: Tue, 22 Feb. 2005
From: “F. Giunta Kurczewski
To: Linda H.
Subject: Pictures

Sorry, Grandma. Mom and I have been so busy with the move that Iforget to tell her to take pictures of me. I'll ask her to take somelater...if I'm feeling photogenic. You can't force these things, you know. True feline beauty can only be accomplished when I'm in the mood. Talk to you later.

Love you, (you wish)
Furio

Date: Wed, 23 Feb. 2005
From: “F. Giunta Kurczewski
To: Linda H.
Subject: None

Hmpft. I see how you are. I email you and pour my little kitty heart out and do not get a response. Hmpft - I say again! Well...we'll see if I pay you ANY attention this weekend. HaHa! *purr purr and other miscellaneous cat noises*

Furio

Mon, 28 Feb. 2005
From: Linda H.
To: Furio
Subject: apology

Dear F. G.
I am very sorry. I didn't realize you were expecting a response. Consider this your response and again my apologies. Try not to get your collar in a bundle. It can't be good for a fat cat to get excited and upset.

How are you doing in your new home? I really had to talk at length to get your owners to come back after you. Maybe you should be nicer in general before you are history.

I expect a "warm" greeting or no more nice presents! Be prepared as Tommy Tornado will also be coming.

Sincerely,
Gma

The Aftermath

I call this picture "The Aftermath." Mike worked all day on Sat., his normal day Monday, a double shift (16 hours) on Tuesday, his normal Thursday and then a double shift last night. Now the double shift isn't a normal double shift. After his normal eight hours, he headed downtown to inspect the vendor booths at the Taste of Chicago. So he's out in the heat walking around for eight hours straight and dealing with the mass of humanity that makes its way to the Taste every year. At the end of the night he was so cranky that I immediately bundled him off to bed. (He was getting pissy about two bacos on the counter again.)

Eleven hours later, he's still out - although he roused long enough to ask me what time it was and to baby talk one of the cats.

Poor Mike. I have to make him get up pretty soon because we're heading back down to the Taste today for another concert.

Yesterday while Mike worked, my friend Leigh and I headed down for the Black Crowes. Mike was crushed to have been working and not be able to come to the concert with us. He did get to hear some of it from where he was working but it just isn't the same.

Well, best to get moving if we're going to get out of here on time.

A Notice

It is approximately 1:30 A.M. and I have just finished answering all of the mail in my Inbox. Huzzah! I love it when I've whipped through them all and can feel that I've accomplished something.

Which brings me to my point. If you have emailed me and haven't heard back...let me know. I've officially answered everything that I have marked as "response required." If I haven't answered you and I owe you an email, it probably means that I mistakenly marked your email for archival.

Now I know what you're thinking..."But, Cindi...you're as close to perfection as is possible from a mere human being." Yes, I know...but heed these words of wisdom, dear reader. Even I...albeit rarely...do make an occasional mistake. Did I mention that it's 1:30 in the morning and I've been running around in the hot sun all day? I think I'm a little slap-happy.

What was my point? Oh, yeah. If I owe you an email and I didn't respond...just send me a note. I'll be sure and get back to you ASAP.

Strategery

So yesterday (Thursday) I decided that the front of the fridge needed cleaning off. There were all kinds of old magnets that were out of date. (Hockey season's over - and we have a White Sox schedule from 2005!...Whaaaaat?) Plus it was just cluttered. So I took down all of the ricketa-racketa. The things I wanted to save I put into a baggie and put into the storage bin with that sort of thing. Then I got out the bleach cleaner, squirted it down and wiped it off.

Then, knowing I had an appointment to go to in an hour, I hopped into the bath tub for a soak. I heard Mike get home, greet the kitties and head into the kitchen to get a drink. Then there was a pause. Then he stuck his head in (smirking, of course) and said something like, "What's wrong with you? I smell bleach and the kitchen looks really good."

First of all, I thought, the smart ass doesn't have to act like it's a major event every time I clean something. Then it hit me. He smells the bleach and thinks I cleaned the whole kitchen. I mean it's basically clean most of the time anyway. He's just inherited the Sandy "out-out damn spot" syndrome which sadly renders its victim incapable of realizing something is actually clean. It's tragic really - I'm thinking of starting a telethon to raise money for a cure. Basically, I've decided, all I have to do is wait until about a half hour before he gets home from work and mix a bleach/water mixture in the sink. He'll smell it and assume I've cleaned. Awesome.

I wonder if that'd work for the bathroom?

A Plea for Relief

The people in charge need to finish fixing our bedroom floor. It's been ten days since we've been able to sleep down there. The landlord, instead of hiring a couple of burly gentlemen to come over and knock the floor out in one day, has given the task to the "manager" to do. Dave works full time - so the first few days he couldn't make it over. Then on Tuesday, he got off of work early for the holiday and he came over and worked several hours. Then he spent his whole fourth of July working on it also. But he's not done. The room's pretty big. The middle's pretty well done. He needs to do around the stairs and the closet and along the walls. But then he didn't show up yesterday. He had to go back to work and I don't know if he didn't feel like finishing it up last night or what...but I'm getting pissed now. I feel like we've been really patient - which is not my strong point anyways.

I haven't had a real night's sleep in forever. Mike's got the couch and I have the guest bed. Now I don't mind the guest bed but the air conditioning has a hard time getting to the spare room and I can't sleep when I'm hot. Last night was awful. I finally felt like I could sleep about 4 am and woke up at 7 am so hot that I stumbled out into the living room to cool off. (I only remember this vaguely, btw - I was so tired.) I remember seeing Mike's alarm clock and thinking it was almost time for him to get up. I nudged him awake and asked him what time he had to get up. "7:20," he said. I think I said something like, "Ok, I'll wait." And then I lay down on the floor next to the couch and went back to sleep. Mike woke me back up and said he'd get up now and that I should lay down on the couch. I did a face plant into the couch. Mike must have taken his shower and gotten dressed because the next time I saw him, he was ready for work. At my request, he wakes me up every day before he goes to work. But even though I have asked him to wake me up and let me know he's leaving, this morning I distinctly remember thinking, "Leave me alone." He asked me if I was feeling better now that I'd cooled off. Then he kept talking to me - I have no idea what he said. I honestly don't remember a word of it. I must have said something funny because I remember him laughing - but have no clue what it was...or even what he asked me or said to me.

I'm tempted to call the landlord and tell him that until he gets the floor fixed, Mike and I are checking into a hotel and sending him the bill. I think ten days is long enough to have a sore back and a stiff neck.

Open Letter

An Open Letter to the Blonde Chick sitting behind us at the ballgame:

You were without a doubt one of the most obnoxious people that I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I know that I am not the most patient person on the planet - I get that from my mother. And I am getting a little older - it's true that I am a little more crotchety than I used to be. But there are a few things that I feel need to be addressed.

First of all, you may notice that we can't see your face in this picture. That's because A) Mike and I moved after sitting in front of you for only half an inning and B) you never SHUT YOUR MOUTH...you were in that position for the entire game! I know it's a ball game - we're all there to have fun. It's nice that you could get your friend to go with you but is it necessary for you to go to a baseball game in order to talk about the bridal shower you are throwing for a different friend? Don't you have a phone? Call her when you get home, ok - some of us are trying to watch the frigging game.

Also, why are you making your friend have a bridal shower? If I had to hear one more thing that you were trying to force her to do, I was going to sweep kick your legs out from under you. It's HER bridal shower. So she doesn't want to wear a veil out in public. So she doesn't want to wear a tiara or a sash at the bar. So she doesn't want to wear penis-shaped earrings. And, by the way - it's a family event...maybe you didn't have to shout "penis." Just a suggestion. Not wanting to wear these things does not make her a "bitch"...maybe she's shy. Maybe it's just not her thing. And if you think she's a "bitch" - then why are you planning a shower for her? JUST SAY NO. And by the way - your friend's offer to take the penis-shaped earrings "if she isn't going to take them" really creeped me out. What is WRONG with you people?

Also - please do not use the words "I am in charge of flair for the party" ever again. The first time you said it, I rolled my eyes...but, had I liked you even an infinitesimal amount, I might have laughed. I, too, have seen the movie Office Space - I enjoy a good movie quote joke. But the fact that you kept feeling the need to repeat the line over and over in an attempt to recreate the moment when your friend laughed...it's just sad.

In closing, I spent the entire time I sat in front of you wishing I could elbow drop you. Luckily for you, Mike kept me from getting rude. Take my advice, though - be considerate. Next time you act ignorant you might not be so lucky.

Happy Fourth of July, everybody!

"At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe us when we say there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events, may, in-fact be the first steps of a journey. We hope to have you back in our arms soon darlings, but in case this letter arrives before our return, know that we love you. It fills us with pride to know that no matter what happens in this life, that you three will take care of each other with kindness, and bravery, and selflessness as you always have. And remember one thing my darlings and never forget it - that no matter where we are, know that as long as you have each other, you have your family, and you are home. " - quote from A Series of Unfortunate Events

Clutter, clutter, go away...

Mike will be mad at me when he finds out that I took a picture of this and put it up on the blog. Buuuut, as you can see, I'm cleaning out my books. This is the stack of books that I still have sitting on my living room floor. After Mike took out four trash bags full of books and threw them away. Four. I guess there is something to be said for getting rid of some of the clutter. Despite the fact that I told him to do whatever he wanted to with the books, I felt a little sick to my stomach when I realize he'd just thrown them away. So my friend Allyson is coming by to go through what's left to see if she can give some of them a good home.

Here is the end result. These are all the books I own now. Normally I would have three empty bookcases but thanks to the flood, I only have the one that my dad made. It was made of sturdy enough wood to survive sitting in the water.

Then landlord has decided not to put down carpet downstairs. Instead, the "manager" is putting down vinyl tile. This is what our bedroom currently looks like. Dave is supposed to be finishing it up tomorrow so we can put our furniture back in the room. I can't wait until I can sleep in my bed again. Mike and I both are a little tired of sleeping upstairs.

You tell me

Shamelessly stolen from Kelly...

You can:

Describe my best qualities in six words here - johari.

Stolen from the pug luver

SCATTERGORIES...it's harder than it looks! Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following...They have to be real places, names, things...nothing made up! Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

Your Name: Lucinda
Famous Artist/Band/Music: Lemonheads, The
4 letter word: lake
Vehicle: Lexus
State: Louisiana
Boy Name: Luca (I live on the second floor)
Girl Name: Layla (you got me on my knees)
Alcoholic drink: Long Island Iced Tea
Occupation: Lawyer
Something you wear: Leggings
Celebrity: Leonardo DiCaprio
Food Place: L Woods Tap and Pine Lodge
Something found in a kitchen: Ladle
Reason for Being Late: Locked my keys in the car
Cartoon Character: Little Lulu
Something You Shout: “Look out!”
Body Part: Lobes (ear)
Things found in the Ocean: Lifeboats

Reflection

This is a cute picture of Mike from our anniversary picnic. He's taking a picture of himself in the big bean there at Millenium Park. Adorable.

New Puppy Pictures!

New pictures of my dad's puppies are up at Aunt Linda's blog. Sooooo cute. Be sure to check them out.

Anniversary Pictures - 04/22/07

My eyes are closed here because the wind just blew some of the COLD fountain water onto my back. Mike caught me in the split second before I said, "Oh, crap!" and ran. It was April and the water was fuh-ree-zee-ing.

This is me splashing around with the other kids. Mike found it incredibly amusing that I wanted to take my shoes off and get my tootsies wet. What can I say - it was a really nice, warm day outside...even if it was frigid water we were splashing in.

Mike, seen here about to open his roast beef picnic sandwich. Those girls you can almost see next to us were SO annoying. I must be getting old because they were college age girls and every time they said things like, "Oh, like, me too." or "Oh my Gawd, tohtuhlee" (which they did constantly) - I wanted to throw something at them.

I love this picture because every time I look at it, I think, "I live in Chicago." Which I am constantly amazed and thrilled about. I adore Chicago. I know that Chicago is not the center of the universe even though most of us who live here do seem to feel like it is. I have become such a Chicago snob. Suggest to me a trip to the suburbs and I will generally make a face while I think to myself, "The suburbs? What for?" I have no idea why this is. I don't feel that way about Detroit. I PREFER the suburbs of Detroit.

But, one of the things I love the most about living in Chicago is that I can hop on a bus and in 15-30 minutes, I'm there. In this beautiful park across from the tallest sky-scrapers, a short walk from the beach and, as far as I'm concerned, at the center of the universe.

Random Baby Sightings

So Mikey and I finished up the monumental task of laundering nearly our entire wardrobes after the flood in our laundry room and bedroom. I would like to clarify that we did not have all of our clothes on the floor. The water seeping into our hope chest, knocked over our hampers and soaked into the clothes we had sitting in laundry baskets. Not all of our clothes had gotten wet but even the dry ones smelled funky from being in such close proximity to the muddy, gross ones. I thought about it after I re-read what I had written and was afraid it sounded like all of our clothes were on the floor. Not the case.

Anyway, we loaded up our last few loads of laundry to head to Bubbleland and decided to grab a bite to eat before we went over. We decided to go to a little bar and grill near our old place called Streetside. We called Matthew to see if he wanted to go with but there was no answer. I called Sarah then because she lives nearby and because we had one of Lyric's little red crocs in the back seat of our car. Again no answer. "Oh, well," I thought, "I'll call them later and see if they want to come over for dinner another night." It was amazingly easy to find a parking spot outside of the bar. We were literally a few feet from the entrance. Very nice. Then we stepped inside and who should we see?! Lyric and Sarah! They were sitting with our friend Paul, having a cocktail (A mimosa for Sarah...7-up and water for Lyric) while they waited for their laundry to be done next door. Lyric lit up when she saw us and snuggled up against me with her head on my chest while she flirted with Mike over my shoulder. I love that kid.

Paul headed home shortly after we arrived and Sarah and Lyric came to sit with us for a bit while they finished their drinks. Mike and I ordered food and we all chatted until the food arrived. Lyric tested out my french fries to make sure they were edible. We oooh and aaahed over the fact that she peed in her big girl potty twice today. Starting next week she'll be in training pants. I was a little sad that she is getting so big, even though I'm not a huge fan of changing diapers. It was decided that they'd be coming over for dinner tomorrow night, regardless of the fact that our clothes are all in the living room, stacked in laundry baskets and storage containers. Then as they were leaving, Lyric signed "I love you" to me in her baby sign language...which made me want to scoop her up and take her home even more than I always do.

Tomorrow I have promised to move the storage containers and laundry baskets into the spare bedroom so Mike isn't as "embarrassed" about the state of our house right now. We can't put them away yet because we still have the moving of all of our bedroom furniture to look forward to in the next couple of days. New carpet has to be put down and we'll have to dismantle all of our things and put them back together. No sense putting the clothes away until that's done. I don't suppose anyone feels like a trip to Chicago this weekend? We could use the help. No? Ah, well. It was worth a shot. :D

Well, I'm calling it a night for now. Lots to do tomorrow.

Puppy love

As you've hopefully noticed by now, the pictures of my new puppy nieces and nephews are up on my aunt's blog. I was very excited to see them and when Mike got him I (practically jumping up and down) asked him if he wanted to see the pictures. He said, "Ok." I pulled up the pictures. Did he remark on how adorable they were? Did he express amazement over the little piebald girl's unusual coloring? Did he ask me which one was coming to our house? (I'll convince him yet!) Alas, no...he did none of these things. Mike's initial reaction?

"Hey! Who's that wearing a Red Wings shirt?"

Real nice, Mike.

Sifting Through the Wreckage

Well, on a brighter note, I managed to salvage the pictures from the memory card of the digital camera that was ruined during our flood. I found that there were pictures from a visit Mike, Kristie and I made to the Art Museum on my birthday and some pictures Mike and I took at our first anniversary picnic in April. There were several pictures of different paintings that I thought were interesting. Suddenly, in the middle of them - I saw a person. I decided to take a closer look and found this picture which rapidly became my favorite from that day.

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Today it rained in Chicago. Think Noah and the Ark...that's the sort of weather we had in Chicago today. I was talking to my dad on the phone when I suddenly thought I heard the sound of dripping water. I look around and realize that the ceiling is leaking...onto my computer. I said, "Oh, (expletive deleted)...I have to call you back." I ran over, disconnected all the cables to the computer and moved it out of the room. Then I pulled out some trash bags and covered everything that was in the drip range.

Once, done, I went out to the couch and tried to call my dad back. I didn't get an answer and so I relaxed and watched Judge Judy for a minute. A few minutes later, I noticed that Furio was acting funny on the stairs. I wondered what he was staring at and wandered over there. Meme shot up from the stairs and bolted across the room. I started down the stairs and thought to myself, "What's wrong with the carpet?" It looked really dark. I flipped on the light to discover that our clothes and possessions were floating. The bedroom was flooded with about 4-6 inches of dirty water. I flipped out. I called Mike, Dave the manager, Bob the landlord and then our insurance company. Dave and Bob both said that there wasn't anything we could do until the water went down and to stay out of the water and off of the metal stairs in case the water reached an electrical outlet. The insurance company told us that we were on our own as renter's insurance doesn't cover any sort of flood damage. My question was this..."What exactly am I paying you all this money every month for?"

Bob stopped by and tried to help us clean up the mess. He's paying for us to take as many clothes as we can to the laundromat to try and save them. The problem is, a lot of them have been ruined/stained by the dirty water and anything that doesn't get taken in today will be gross and moldy by tomorrow. So we've had to try and sort through our possessions to try and figure out which of our things are more necessary than the others. Matt's old shirts had to be tossed as did some of my mom's old clothes that I use as house clothes. I cried after I threw them away because I wasn't ready to let them go but I knew I didn't have much choice. It's more important to save the clothes we'll need for day-to-day wear and work clothes. I've lost some of my dress shoes which were stored under the bed and one of our bookshelves will have to be scrapped. We're still assessing the damage, if any to our bed, dresser, hope chest and the bookcase that my Dad built me in college. Some of my books are goners too. And we've lost a digital camera which was in a duffle bag from a previous trip. Thankfully it's not our brand new one, though. Mike's loaded up as much as possible and headed off to do laundry. I was going to try and wash a few more clothes here at home but the laundry room was flooded also and right now the washer won't start.

Bob's going to replace our carpet downstairs...which means that we'll have to move out all of our furniture in order for them to pull out the gross, soggy stuff and put the good new stuff down. Times like these are when I wish that we lived close to family. It's going to be such a pain for Mike and I to be schlepping that furniture around.

*Sigh* I need a hug.

For Bob and Andrea...

A picture of Mike enjoying that piece of Alex's birthday cake you sent home with us...

News!

I have new nieces and nephews! Four of them! My furry "little sister," Scarlett had four puppies just after midnight. I don't know whether they're girls or boys yet but I'm very excited to find out. Pictures should be up soon on Aunt Linda's blog as she went over to see the new mom and her babies today.

Mike as Rod Stewart

Interlude

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
--W.H. Auden

***************************************************
We Are Seven

A simple child, dear brother Jim,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage girl,
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That cluster'd round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair,
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little maid,
"How many may you be?"
"How many? seven in all," she said,
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they, I pray you tell?
"She answered, "Seven are we,
"And two of us at Conway dwell,
"And two are gone to sea.
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
"My sister and my brother,
"And in the church-yard cottage, I
"Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
"And two are gone to sea,
"Yet you are seven; I pray you tell
"Sweet Maid, how this may be?"
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
"Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little maid,
"Your limbs they are alive;"
If two are in the church-yard laid,
"Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
"And they are side by side.
"My stockings there I often knit,
"My 'kerchief there I hem;
"And there upon the ground I sit--
"I sit and sing to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
"When it is light and fair,
"I take my little porringer,
"And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was little Jane;
"In bed she moaning lay,
"Till God released her of her pain,
"And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid,
"And all the summer dry,
"Together round her grave we played,
"My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
"And I could run and slide,
"My brother John was forced to go,
"And he lies by her side."
"How many are you then," said I,
"If they two are in Heaven?"
The little Maiden did reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
"Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
--William Wordsworth

Today (+1 year)

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death. His name was Matthew. He was my baby brother. He died when he was 22, although he'd be 26 today. He was my best friend. I thought he was invincible. I was wrong. Here are just a few things that I learned in the first three years and a few more that I've learned since then.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I can tell you that people who say, "time heals all wounds" are full of bull. Time may cover the wound with a scab but wounds like these never heal. The best you can hope for is that it's clean and doesn't hurt every day.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I have noticed that the stories you tell about a person after they're gone never cease to be funny. For instance, once when we were little, my family was driving into town when we noticed that one of our distant neighbors were moving in a manufactured home. They had set the house up on cement blocks and my mom said to my dad, "I wonder what they've got that house up on blocks for." My (quite young) little brother piped up from the back seat, "Well, they gotta raise the house to meet the steps."

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and saying good-bye is hard. When I came home from graduate school to visit my brother in the hospital, I sat with him for awhile on the last day of the weekend. Mike went out to get the car and my parents were coming in later - so we were alone, Matt and I. I waited until the nurses had given him a sedative to help him rest because I didn't want him to see me leave. He always cried when my mom would leave for the night and I didn't think I could stand it if he cried. Once he was asleep, I went over and touched him. I said, "Good-bye, Matty. I love you." and walked out of the room. Then I'd get halfway down the hall and turn around and come back. I'd touch him again and say, "Goodbye, Matty. I love you." I did this about (no lie) eight times. I'd get halfway down the hall and think, "What if this is the last time I see him?" It was.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I am here to tell you that flatulence CAN be funny....especially when you start tooting to annoy your sister and you inadvertently "exceed the maximum capacity" of your underpants.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I know that between us we had several genius ideas before they were famous. For instance, my brother was "Goldweiner" long before Austin Powers faced down Goldmember. Granted, Matt's nickname was due to his penchant for dachshunds rather than an unfortunate smelting accident. The best was when he'd lay Chloe across his arm, stroke her back in villainesque manner, and say, "No, Mr. Bond...I expect you...to....die." Matt was also the original "Captain Underpants." A few days of lazing around in his tighty whities inspired the family to give him the moniker, "Underpants Man." Rather than being offended and always one to go in with a good joke, he soon gave Underpants Man more nemesis....es (what is the plural of that? Nemesi?)...than he knew what to do with. Including the ever popular, "Tuxedo Man" and "Fully Dressed Boy."

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I've learned that moms really mean it when they tell you they'd take your place rather than see you suffer.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and it's glaringly obvious that people who've never lost someone close to them can never understand...no matter how hard they may want to.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and to this day whenever I see feuding siblings on Judge Judy, I cry - because they've got what I want and they don't even appreciate it!

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I've found that memories are a poor substitute for a deceased loved one. When Matt died, so many people told me, "Well, at least you have some great memories." Yeah, I do. I have tons of happy memories...but what I really want is my brother back. I hated when people said that and so I make a point never to say it to others.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and my upstairs neighbor is convinced that he still visits me. She thinks so because I semi-regularly have an odd dream. Or hallucination. Or, if you believe in that sort of thing, ghostly visits. I wake up, only I'm not really awake-awake. I'm floating in the ether between sleep and awake...and I see him sitting on the edge of my bed. I mumble something along the lines of, "What are you doing in my room, spaz?" Then something clicks in my brain and I realize that Matt can not possibly be in my room and I bolt wide awake to see an empty spot on the bed. While I am pretty sure that his appearance has more to do with a wistful mind than other-worldly influence, it's nice to think that maybe he stops by sometimes.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and even though I'm not convinced that he visits me, I did get an email from "beyond his grave." (Cue the spooky music.) Once, about six months after his death, a yahoo glitch somehow either resent a message or marked it as "unread" so it popped up in my inbox. I'll give you a sample of the very beginning and the very end...which will show you both why I loved and miss him so much and why the email itself was sort of spooky. By the way, the language is slightly salty...so prepare yourself. :) Originally, I censored it to be PG-13 but then I thought about it and Matt would have been offended...so here he is in all his slightly vulgar glory.

(BEGINNING)Hey Skip Spence... whats up my moby grapian friend? If you knew ANYTHING about acid bands of the 60s you would be laughin' your ass off at that, trust me. I am one witty mutha, or brutha if you will. Sorry about missin' ya while you're on, I was asleep in the chair about 10:30. Remember when mom told ya I was having those bad tummy pains, well, I slept A LOT, while that shit was goin' on, and it whacked out my schedule a bit, and I'm still sleeping more than normal, but my hours are more normal....like 8am to 10pm normal, which is fuckin' trippy. But alas, that t'is thee thy reason for not being around. You'se digs my complications, eh?......

(END)Ok, this is the last paragraph homes, be good, and I'll try to be around tomorrow evening.....maybe about 9:30. If you ain't here, no problems, I'll catch ya another time, and I'll work on my hours so we catch each other more ok? Be good......Your Brutha, Lil Chu

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and you will never convince me that dogs don't have feelings. Matt's little dachshund, Chloe, still looks for him to show up every day. When he got sick and went to the hospital and for some time after he died, I would sometimes see her lying in his spot on the couch, waiting for him to come and sit with her or whining outside of his bedroom door - unable to understand why he didn't open up and let her in.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I have realized that losing a loved one is hard...but losing two is unbearable.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and his "legacy" lives on. I have only to utter the words "biggest ass hole in Henry County" to make Mike laugh. My mom used to go through phases where she was constantly mad at my dad. No matter what he did, it wasn't what she wanted him to do. My dad always knew they'd pass and so he didn't sweat about them...which only served to piss her off further, naturally. One of these instances occurred just before Veteran's Day. The local paper was publishing pictures of "your" veterans in the Veteran's Day issue at no charge. You could put whatever caption you wanted with the picture. We had decided we'd put in a picture of my dad and of his brother, my Uncle Tony. My dad was watching tv in the living room, while my brother was playing around on his computer (also in the living room). My mom and I were sitting at the table in the adjoining kitchen. I said, "Mom, what are we going to have them put under Dad's picture?" She snapped back, "How about "Biggest ass hole in Henry County?" In an attempt to defuse the situation, I laughed and yelled out into the living room, "Hey, Dad...did you hear what Mom just said? She's going to write 'biggest ass hole in Henry County under your picture." Then I turned back to my mom and said, "Gee...then what will we write under Uncle Tony's picture?" Without missing a beat, Matt piped up from the living room, "Brother of the biggest ass hole in Henry County."

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and although laughing with him is the thing I miss the most, I see his sense of humor all around. In myself, in my Uncle Mike - who shares it, in my Mike - who took to it right away and adopted some of it as his own, in Jeff - who I know misses it as much as I do, in my Dad - who shares with us the uncanny ability to look at a situation and think, "Matt would have loved that.", in the stories that we all tell about him, in the memories he cultivated in all of us who loved him and in the memories we have of my mom - who ached for him every second she outlived him and who passed on her sense of humor to all of her kids.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I have found out that sometimes the pain is worth it. "Mother of the best kids on Earth or in Heaven said: Who can forget the movie quotes..."stuck in the big pool for life" or "rectum?, almost killed um" or watching Cheech and Chong's "Up in Smoke" and he laughed every time because Chong had to follow his dog around for 3 days after the dog ate his stash of weed. I never watch "Cops" any more because it just isn't the same without his caustic remarks about the arrestees. After 3 years I still wait to hear "how was your day, Mom",when I walk in the door.----said more out of self preservation depending on how my day was, he knew how the wind was blowing. We both know we could rattle on for days and never run out of endless stories about him. I still keep his guitars and amps carefully preserved and cared for because I can't part with them. I always cry if "Amazing Grace" is played. But I also can imagine Heaven's response when he arrived with his humor, music, and love, although I'm sure things have never been the same. You have to feel sorry for people who never had a chance to meet him. The pain is worth having had Matt with us, because no way would I have missed the dance." --my mom's comment on last year's "Today" post.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and I wouldn't trade the twenty-two years I had with him for any price. Some people are not meant to grow old but rather appear in our lives briefly and linger in our hearts forever.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and the best piece of advice I (still) have to offer you is to hug those you love every day and tell them that you love them. Never let a day go by without sharing your feelings.

Today is the anniversary of my brother's death.

For Matt (12/16/80 - 06/24/03)

A Mom Story

What my mom said about this picture: "Take my picture and

we'll ask the kids which one is the bear."

Definitely a new trend

The new trend.

Happy Birthday

Today is Okima's birthday and although I know she's not feeling the birthday spirit today, I'm sending many happy birthday wishes her way.

Update

Okima's dad died this morning. That makes both parents within two weeks.

Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

Still trying...

A snippet from a recent dinner conversation between Mike and myself...

Me: What's that guy's name again?
Mike: Which guy?
Me: That pitcher whose name is on my shirt...Justin something...sounds like Charmander.


(It's Verlander, by the way.)

Big Haircut

I got a haircut today. I've been wanting to do something with my hair for ages and I decided that today was the day. I broke out the digital camera to record the before and after shots.

BEFORE - My hair is still wet and messy here but Mike was hassling me to get around and get ready so I didn't dare take the time to blow dry my hair. I pulled the towel off my head and had him snap a before shot for me. Apparently the before-and-after picture idea really scared Mike, as he forlornly asked me in the car how much hair I was getting cut off. I promised it would be a minimum. AFTER - And here I am two hours later. I've been highlighted, layered, blowdried and snipped. I'm quite happy with it but my mom would have hated it. Apparently asymmetrical bangs are all the rage this season and I told Marisol, the cute little Puerto Rican lady who cut my hair, that I didn't care too much about what the bangs looked like...so long as I had bangs. I like them, I guess...they do take a little getting used to but my mom would never have been able to get over the bangs. "Your bangs aren't straight. Why would you leave the shop without making sure your bangs were straight?" In fact, she's probably looking down at me right now, telling all and sundry that my bangs aren't straight.

AND THIS - this is just me messing around with the digital camera taking pictures of myself while Mike was changing for dinner. I thought my eyes looked really nice in this one.

But my bangs aren't straight.

The first non-Polack champion!

Charles Harris, current dicey champion, pictured here wearing the coveted "Dicey Crown."

An early father's day

Furio and Meadow gave Mike his father's day gift a couple of days early. Many thanks to the Potters for "helping" Furio and Meme paint this totem pole at the pottery place.

The joy of having family

It's nice to know that you have someone you can always count on. I have a lot of people that I know I can count on but I thought I'd give a little credit where credit is due and where it doesn't always get recognized.

On January 18th, I started a special "group" on gratefulness.org in order that anyone who wants to can light a candle in memory of my mom. The candles burn for 48 hours and I decided that I'd try and light one every day so that I could keep my mom's "group" active. The problem? I'm terrible at remembering to visit every day. I do a fair job of visiting to relight a candle before my old one goes out but I don't always make it every 48 hours. I don't worry about it, though. Jeff always makes it every day and has never let me down yet. Even this week, which was crazy. It's been probably a week since I lit a candle but when I clicked onto the site, Jeff had been there. It's nice to know that I can count on him to keep up with it when I forget. Thanks, Jeff. :D

In other news, my dad's going to be a Grandpa again. No, it's not me. Put down your credit card, Sandy - and you can close that Baby's R Us window. One of my mom's weiner dogs, Scarlett (the red one on the far right), is pregnant! Dad had this to say when he e-mailed me, "Wouldn't your Mom have been THRILLED? I'd have had a hard time getting her to part with any of them when they were old enough." That's too true. So in two or three months, he'll have puppies to give away. I don't think he'll be able to sell them because my mom died before she got Otis (the father weiner) registered - or at least, he won't be able to sell them for full price. They are 100% weiner dog, though. I'm hoping Uncle Mike and Aunt Linda will help him out with locating new puppy owners. You don't want to give them to just anybody. I'd love to have one but I still can't have a dog yet. Maybe Dad will keep one for me until I get a place that lets us have a dog...of course that was the deal we struck when I brought home Delilah. He's still got Delilah. Too bad Mom's not around...I could have talked her into that no problem. :D Let's see...if they're born the end of June/early July, they won't be ready to go until September-ish anyway. Our lease is up in October...we could probably swing that. Hrm...something to think about. Mike will be the hard sell. Well, and the cats. Furio will probably demand a "sit down."

I hope he doesn't make me an offer I can't refuse.

Revenge

Revenge is a dish best served cold. -Pierre Ambroise Francois Choderios de LaClos

Revenge is a dish best served with cold cuts. - Tony Soprano

Anyone?

Anybody have a reaction to the "last episode of the Sopranos. Ever."? I'll avoid spoilers for anyone who hasn't had a chance to see it yet - but I will say that Mike's reaction was "Pft. So glad I watched this."

I was pretty miffed about it at first too but as I have pondered it for an hour or so here, it's growing on me. I have my own theory about the ending...and if I'm right then the ending was quite clever.

But I'm curious what other people thought.

Crazy Cat Lady?

So today I put an old memory card into our new camera and found we had several pictures that we'd forgotten about. Excited, I plugged in the camera to the computer and transferred the pictures to see what we've got. It turns out that out of about 55 pictures, 85% or so were of our cats. Yeah. I'm a little concerned about what this says about us.

But then I looked at the pictures and they're just such dang cute cats. How can you not take pictures of them? You can find a sampling below of the pictures that I feel are the cutest.

Go ahead...make my day.

I found this email in my inbox this morning and, while I empathize with his plight, I have to admit that I got quite a kick out of it. It actually sort of made my day.

Fri, Jun 8, 2007 at 6:03 PM
From: Charles Harris
To: Lucinda Kurczewski
Subject: This $1000 Nintendo

This worthless son of a bitch WILL NOT send a picture attached to an Email.