Tea site in need of PR seeks sites willing to link:
If you love tea (which I do) and are willing to dedicate a little linkage to Adagio Teas, then please feel free! Adagio Teas needs your help to get themselves listed in a Google “tea” search.
Because I’m lazy and I saw it over here…
bold the states you’ve been to, underline the states you’ve lived in and italicize the state you’re in now…
Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C /
Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.
I’ve not had a self-pity post in a long time. I can’t help myself. I need to write one.
I’ve had my share of health crap in my life. I’ve had five surgeries (some not serious, some very serious), was born with a massive Urinary Tract congenital defect, lost a kidney, been diagnosed with various mini-maladies (hypoglycemia, anemia, and hypothyroidism most recently), and had cancer (the kind that results in surgery, chemo, and radiation). I spent my entire life knowing I wasn’t like other kids. I can’t remember childhood or my teenage years because of the brain-fry that went with the chemo. I can trace my surgeries like a map across my body. Every time I shower I’m reminded of everything.
I also spent my life knowing that children may not be easy for me. I told my husband this early on in our relationship. I dealt with it. But one day a doctor said, “yes you can have children.” Cross-eyed, I looked at them. I was surprised and confused. It seemed everything I knew was turned on end. And then come to find out my husband has a problem that makes him basically sterile. He had surgery to repair it. We thought we were in the clear. Turns out the surgery didn’t work.
So now we’re on this whole strange, winding “infertility road.” A lot of people go through it but I dare say few go through more shit in 28 years than me. VERY few. I know I’m lacking an ovary on the left side which makes things even more difficult and ages my reproductive system significantly. In any case, I had to wait for my thyroid to level off. It did in January. Then I had to have blood work this month to figure out timing and stuff. Next month was to be the first IUI (or, as my dear hubby relates, “turkey baster method). Unfortunately, the blood work couldn’t be completed because I don’t ovulate properly. No shit, Sherlock.
Right now I’m in limbo. The thing that sucks about our situation is that we’ve had things taken away, given back, taken away, and half-way given back. I feel like I’m in a tug-o-war. I just want certainty. At this point in time, if they just said “no you can’t have kids” at least we would have a starting point. As it stands, we do not. I’m confused, unhappy, jealous, hurt, and doubtful all at the same time. My body has failed me time and time again–what next? I’ve already had cancer, what can be worse than that?
I’m so not ready to go back to work. After four and a half days off, the very thought of waking up at 5:15am, showering, trekking out in the cold, and piling into my car is horrifying. This weekend was a good time though…some fourteen of us headed up to the northern wilds of Michigan to go skiing, drink and have a general good time. We stay at this fabulous 4800 square foot home with 7 bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms on the shore of Lake Michigan. This was our third place at this house–previously we rented what has been recently dubbed “the ghetto cabin” for two years. Needless to say, this place is much, much nicer. It’s name (because all fancy places have names) is “Cedar Bend Cottage.”
Strangely enough, we’ve never been to the cottage in the summer. It is cheap in the winter. $400 a night split between seven bedrooms is incredibly affordable. In the summer, it jumps to $5250 a week. That, my friends, is a bit out of the realm of possibility for these young yuppies. Nobody could convince me differently. I mean, it’s the north of Michigan and NOT some remote tropical island where it’s warm and sunshiny all moments of every day. It could rain or sleet or let out horrendous torrential winds at any moment.
Some folks went skiing (and/or snowboarding) on this trip. There are mountains–err, hills–pretty close. I didn’t go, but hubby did. Everybody seemed to have a great time. There were no crazy happenings, no big fights, and no fabulous revelations. It was just generally a great time. It’s amazing how relaxing it is to be away from home despite the fact there are 13 other people around you. The trip home from the village was none too relaxing, though. There was an apparent ice storm. The whole of I-75 was closed at one place and we saw some 15-20 vehicles in the ditches. Nobody appeared to be seriously injured but it was still disarming.
We did stop in Birch Run though…the mother of all outlets. We only went to North Face, Nike and Columbia. On the way there, I picked up a lovely lined Columbia jacket for just $45. It’s red, too, which makes me happy. JT managed to pick up a fleece (grey), some North Face gloves, and running pants. I tried to get him to stop at the Borders and Waterford outlets but he was none too excited about that prospect. Go figure. A man who doesn’t enjoy books or crystal. Hmph.
In any case, yeah…work tomorrow. Color me a pukey shade of green.
My husband is a restless sleeper. Even on a good night, he snores like a beast. I once tried to cover his mouth to get him to stop, but he had a dream he was drowning and woke up flailing and whacked me in the head. That was the first and last time I tried that method. Now, to get him to stop I’ve found that if I kick him he doesn’t wake up but he turns over. As long as he doesn’t lay on his back he doesn’t snore so that solves the problem pretty easily. I think I kick him even in my sleep now. By the way, we are both decent sized human beings (me, 5′10″ and he, 6′0″) and share a double bed. Needless to say there is little room.
JT is also known to talk in his sleep when he’s really excited about something–good or bad. He often chatters but infrequently can I understand what he’s saying. Usually it’s chaotic and rambling. I’ve gotten good at sleeping through his incoherent mutterings. Last night he was in one of those moods. He kept on waking me up (not with snoring surprisingly). We’re headed up north of Traverse City on Lake Michigan for three nights so he’s really hyped. In any case, I was laying on my side at the edge of the bed. He kept on insisting (in his sleep mind you–I asked if he remembered anything this morning) that I give him room. He also kept on moaning which creeped me out a little.
The best “restless JT” story has to be when last year I heard him wake up in the middle of the night. He said up for a moment and then ran to the front door, swung it open, slammed it and came to bed. In the morning I asked what in the world he was doing. He said he had a dream that he had a rag in his hand that was covered with bugs. He had to get rid of it. He got all the way to the front door before he woke up–but he still threw the invisible rag with invisible rugs onto the front porch.
Seriously…the boy could sleepwalk given the proper motivation.
As far as my sleeping goes, well, I sleep pretty well. I don’t move much in the night (outside of when I kick JT) and I don’t snore, talk, or walk. I don’t even often remember my dreams. I’m a boring sleeper. Good thing, because I don’t think our house could handle two restless ones.
Jess and I have come up with a date for my sister’s “Big Fuckoff Party” from here on out known simply as the BFP. If you know Cheryl in real life you may be curious to know the date, time, etc…so here you go!
BW3 (known by squares as Buffalo Wild Wings)
March 26th, 2005 - 7pm
It’ll be nice to see her–and yes, Cheryl, if you’re wondering I’ve begun to invite the appropriate family. Ashley’s been told/invited and I’ll get around to Melissa, Darrin, Jeff, and Sara shortly. They all also know you want to see the kids. You’ll get to meet Matthew & Preston!
Enough of that cutsie kid talk. I’m even annoying myself. Yes…it is possible.
Other stuff? Well…I’ve got the brand new Director’s Cut DVD of Donnie Darko on order. It should arrive today or tomorrow from my dear friends at Amazon.com who randomly gifted me a $20 certificate. I’m not one to complain. I also bought two more Philip K. Dick books from there to bring my total to 22. I think I have about twelve more to get before I’ll call my collection complete. I’m OCD like that, so deal. My most recent additions? We Can Build You and Galactic Pot-Healer. By the way, PKD is one of the coolest writers ever so if you don’t read him, you should.
So it’s Valentine’s Day. JT and I haven’t traditionally done much for it–we’ll buy small gifts but that’s just about it. I got JT a few nerdy Linux things–a Linux shirt, Linux shark for the Honda, and a poster. I figure anything I can do to damage the Honda is good. Plus, he likes it…so…
I still have no idea if I’m getting anything. On Saturday I suggested to JT that we go to Sears to look at dishwashers. Our is pretty much broken (it doesn’t stop running when it’s cold nor does it clean) and we’d already checked out Lowe’s and Home Depot and Best Buy. I had one requirement–it had to have the silverware rack in the door. His only requirement was that it be less than $400. We managed to find something we both agreed on from Whirlpool (the only brand that actually makes the in-door silverware holder) at Best Buy.
It will arrive on our front step on March 5th. JT already said he’s taking the sawsall to the old one. Seriously–nobody wants it. It looks pretty good but it runs for crap. I guess it’s probably 15 years old so it’s to be expected.
Other than that this weekend? Not much. We went to dinner with Jim & Christina on Friday night. A trip to Chili’s was enough for us–we had a grand time. Fajitas make me happy. We went for drinks at a place called Tee Bonz after. That experience was interesting to say the least…and it had nothing to do with the atmosphere. We still love all you guys 
Finally, I want to mention that my sister will be in town late March. I can’t wait. Lemme tell you, when a person you are THAT closely related lives in England it’s a treat to get to see them. We grew up hating one another (we are less than two years apart) but it seems distance makes the heart grow fonder.
My poor little Impala has just about reached 75,000 miles. It is my first (and likely last) new car and replaced ye olde 91 Escort Pony. Talk about luxury driving! The arm-strong steering, the lack of a driver’s side mirror, the windows that wouldn’t roll down all the way, the crazy-difficult and sticky manual transmission–I was honestly in heaven when I got it. Anyway, I do like my Impala but it’s been problematic.
We’ve had issues with everything from the paint to the catalytic converter to the pistons. Still it runs great (when its not in the shop) and still I love it. From what I understand we’re definitely in the minority in our experience. I’m going to have to drive it for another 75,000 miles so we better be in the minority! In any case, I think the rotors on the brakes are going (again–I think I tend to ride them a tad bit) and we just replaced the tires with the best passenger model on the market (some fancy Michelin’s that include roadside assistance and free rotations for 90,000 miles).
I keep on trying to talk the man into replacing the pink 92 Accord we still have. I call it pink, but it’s official color is “champagne.” JT calls it tan. Whatever. It’s still pink. In any case, it’s a piece. It has 160,000 miles (or so) on it and is beginning to rust pretty badly (yeah for Michigan salt-encrusted winters). However we just put a new muffler and tires on it. I told JT not to. I really, really did. The car has survived the creaming of a deer (it landed on our windshield at 75 MPH and took out the entire front end, roof, driver-side and trunk–it wasn’t pretty) and a number of fender benders both our fault and not. Still the damn thing runs. The power locks don’t work, the speakers are blown, the heat knob doesn’t work, and worst of all the sprayers don’t work.
Gawd I hate that car and wish it would die. JT would like I truck, but the likelihood of affording that is slim to none. I’d just prefer to replace it with a mid-size zippy four-door of some variety. A Jetta, newer Accord, Altima, and Malibu Maxx (I love the hatch back, baby) have all crossed my mind. We’ll see though–I somehow doubt we wouldn’t end up with a Japanese car. My family will once again be appalled. You’d be shocked to know how many families in Michigan are ruled by one auto-maker or another. Mine is General Motors. Both grandfathers worked there, great grandfathers worked there, uncles, cousins, etc…
Anyway, I hate cars. Why can’t Michigan just have some kind of public transportation? Yeah right.
Senior year meme (courtesy of emersongeek.net), because I am bored…and what better do I have to do?
What year was it? 1994/1995
What were your three favorite bands or musical artists? Stone Temple Pilots, White Zombie, Soundgarden
What was your favorite outfit? Jeans (Levis 550’s), tennis shoes (Nike Air Max), t-shirts, maybe Bass leather docksiders occasionally with a somewhat more fitted shirt. I was not cool–but nobody in my rural town was.
What was up with your hair? Very much the same as now which is very much the same as when I was 12. My hair is always one of two ways–short or bobbed. It’s bobbed now just like it was in senior year. The difference? It’s slightly layered now and razor cut and I’ve got blonde streaks now instead of badly box-dyed red hair.
Who were your best friends? Amy, Karyn, and Lisa. I’m still close with Amy & Karyn. Lisa on the other hand was in a car accident senior year that resulted in brain damage. We stuck with her, but she really honestly went off the deep end.
Where did you work? Ace Hardware, baby! I was a cashier making a big $4.15 an hour (later got a raise to $4.40 an hour).
What did you do after school? Various clubs and extra curricular activities–and homework…lots of calculus homework.
Did you take the bus? Never. I lived in town. By senior year I had a car and drove the 10 blocks to school. Viva la Escort Pony!
Whom did you have a crush on? Everybody. Actually, not everybody but I thought one slightly nerdy but oddly popular guy named Jeff was hot. He was nice to me, too which really sealed the deal. Too bad I never followed through with anything.
Did you fight with your parents? Sometimes, but not really. I was really pretty goody-two-shoes.
Whom did you have a CELEBRITY crush on? Brad Pitt of course–and Scott Weiland (despite his drug problems). Still in love with Brad…
Did you smoke cigarettes? Nope.
Did you lug all of your books around in your backpack because you were too nervous to find your locker? Nobody carried backpacks–they weren’t cool (boy did I get culture shock in college). My school was small-ish so it wasn’t much of a challenge to get to my locker between classes.
Did you have a “clique”? Not really–unless you call socially inept folks a “clique.” We were smart and liked to gossip but really cared little about being popular. We all had friends outside of our clique and participated in different things so we were like an un-clique.
Did you have “The Max” like Zach Kelly and Slater? In G-Town? Aw, hell no. G-Town was too small to have a central meeting place. For fun people cruised. There was no place to actually stop.
Admit it, were you popular? Not at all. Seriously. Unless having two teachers for parents, really liking computers (remember, this was the early 1990’s), and having red hair, freckles, braces, and glasses makes you popular of course…
Who did you want to be just like? Nobody. I had no real role models.
What did you want to be when you grew up? Something like a lawyer or psychologist or writer or something. I wasn’t picky.
Where did you think you’d be at the age you are now? Actually I had no idea at all. I wanted to have gone to college and hoped that some unlucky sap would be dating me. I didn’t know exactly what I would be or where I would live. I had no real aspirations. Funny that. One place I didn’t expect to be was married and working with computers. Despite my affinity for computers as a teenager I didn’t see them as a life-long career. I still don’t.
So I’m sitting in my car this morning at the ass crack of dawn–6:30am. I’d just pulled into the parking space and shut the car and headlights off. My radio still runs for a time and I was interested in the story that was being told about corruption in Detroit government (not that any of it comes as a surprise).
I see a little Nissan or old Toyota or something pull up out of the corner of my eye. I also can see two girls in the front seat. And then I feel a thwack. I look up and the passenger just noticed I was sitting there. She’d not yet gotten out of the car and gave me this doe-eyed “I’m an idiot AND I’m innocent” look. I proceeded to yell at her.
I told her that it is NOT alright to do that to people’s cars. She sat there relatively silent, but I heard her mutter something. I continued to ream her and told her that this behavior was not okay and that she may destroy her friend’s car but not that of strangers. I also told her that she must swing her door open without regard to her surroundings routinely. I yelped a few other things to make my point clear. Her friend then said “she said she was sorry.” I continued ranting and told her that she was indeed NOT sorry because if this is common behavior she wouldn’t have been sorry had I not been in the car.
Seriously–I was sickened. I have this car, my 2002 Impala LS. I’m going to have it for like the next five years. If people keep on whacking my car because they obviously don’t care then my car is NOT going to last. Hopefully I bitched at her enough to get my point across. My only hope is that next time she thinks before she swings that door open. Or maybe that’s hoping for too much…
In any case, little girlie didn’t manage to do any damage to my car. The Impala has a nice black bumper strip thingie all the way around it that deflects most of those kinds of hits (unless they are from a F 350 or something). I’m just angry. Why can’t people care as much for others property as I do?
Grrr…
Just thought I’d share…actually, I saw the idea over yonder and thought I’d join in the fun. Be a pal…show your own wee one portrait.
This one is from when I was about 3. It was a funny color, but thanks to Dave for making it normal again. He even went through the trouble of matching my eye color and seperating out parts of the pic (like the red of the dress). You rock, Mr. Dave. Actually, scratch that…you REALLY rock. He edited the picture again with a concentration on “vibrancy.” I look human now!
It’s been a reasonably busy week thus far. It’s not been snowing too much nor has it been incredibly cold so at least my trips to and from work have been fine. Work is what’s busy–edit, edit, edit and create, create, create and respond, respond, respond. I wouldn’t expect any less out of this week which I completely expected to be busy as all hell.
In other not-really-news, I stumbled on a site called yourmusic.com while surfing allmusic.com the other day. For those of ya’ll who don’t know, I’m a big fan of music (among other things). I spend all too much time writing at what I will call “the mother site.” I like it there and I get the occasionally check and if feeds into my slightly OCD personality so it’s all good. In any case, I often use AMG (allmusic.com) to research and discover new music. It’s a great place. I will wholly admit to not often supporting them with click-throughs on banners. But I clicked the one for yourmusic.com.
And I’m glad I did…
Along with my OCD Epinions tendancies I am also a fan of collecting things. I’ve always collected books and crap in general and for the past 10 or so years I’ve also been collecting music. My collection has grown to somewhere around 1000 CD titles (not burned–I really, honestly believe in supporting artists though I will admit to occasionally MP3-ing it back in the late 1990’s when I was incredibly broke) of which all of them are in alpha order in wallets. It’s a momentous task to re-alphabetize things when I get a few dozen new discs.
In any case, yourmusic.com is part of BMG apparently. There’s no committment and no shipping. You pay $5.99 a month and receive one CD. That CD is your choice–it is pulled from the top of your queue (or Wish List as the case may be). The catch? None…outside of the fact that if you don’t have a CD on that list you will still be charged $5.99. I’ve already got like 13 things on that list. Even better? You can buy as MANY as you like a month and you can cancel at any time.
I feel like a kid in the candy store–very much like I did the first time I discovered BMG when I was 14 or 15.
