little_tristan: (Drunk Octopus)
Okay, it was brutally unfair to make you all wait a day and a half, but Heather was over with the baby and he totally brought to life the terrible twos concept. It was the worst behaved I've ever seen him, just running and screaming and pushing every limit until it collapsed in despair and died of its own weight. The only nap he took was when she finally had to strap him into his stroller in the living room and let him cry himself out while we smoked on the porch and congratulated each other for getting out of there without actually hurting him. Because sometimes you just have to walk away.

But that's not what y'all were waiting for, is it? No, you want to hear about what happened when Steve came over last night. Well, the short answer is, nothing. He was a little late, of course, but not terribly, and knocked at the front door like a proper guest. Russ stood in the middle of the room, while I stayed in the corner at my tv watching station, and Mark let him in. He was exactly the same as always with them, and they were the same as always with him. It was all "Hey, how you doing? What's going on?" standard guy stuff. Steve never actually looked at me, or even at my end of the room, nor did he speak to me.

He made a bunch of trips upstairs and hauled his stuff out the side door while the gf and her kids waited in the car. Even with car top carrier I bought him for his vacation, he didn't get a whole lot in. Then he came back, said goodbye to the boys and told them he'd be back with his brother and his brother's truck to get the rest when he could. Again, he didn't look at or speak to me while they exchanged "Good to see yous" and "Take it easys". Then he went out to the car, got the gf and kids, and spent the rest of the evening with the drunken losers across the street. I know this because her car was still in front of our house when we went to bed at eight.

Apparently he did generously decided to split the plants with Russ, because Russ was always his favorite. He's the one Steve went whining to when I fired him, like Russ hadn't been telling me to for months. And how much do I wish I'd told Steve that when I had the chance? I had at least two months to tell him I was the only friend he had here, and the only reason he still had a job.

But whatever. He went away content that they're on his side and he'd still be happily leaching off us and constantly whining at me about my unreasonable demands if only I wasn't such a mean controlling bitch. And yes, I'm still pissed about that. But when I mentioned it this morning, that my feelings are still a bit hurt that he screwed us all over and, you know, treated me like a disposable cash card and I'm the only one who has a problem with it, Russ said that was true. I am the only one with a problem and it's time to shut up about it. So I will. After mentioning one last time that while the three people I trust most in the world are technically on my side, they're going to continue to let him think they're on his and it's just a matter of bitches be crazy, what're you gonna do? Also, I hope his basement hole floods this winter. And then grows mold. That is all.

That said, I'll leave you with this happy thought. During Cory's relatively obedient half hour when we walked up to the Dollar Tree, I rather impulsively bought a half-size purple tote bag that's going to be my new purse for a while. And this morning I paid off our credit card debt, after finally getting through to Mark that we were paying over three grand a year in interest, and that the amount of money he's seeing in the final column of the software isn't what we have, it's what we would have after the debt was subtracted. Now the numbers are still the same, we just won't have to keep handing over half his monthly pay to keep the credit jackals at bay. I've explained it three times a week for the last month, it just took this long for him to stop interrupting with yes, yes, I understand and actually LISTEN. God love him, he just doesn't have the storage capacity to truly process everything I say. Much like the large number of people who probably stopped reading a paragraph ago. ;) To those who got this far, God loves you, too, and so do I.

*HUGS EVERYONE*
little_tristan: (Kitten Monster)
Remember all that cell phone crap I was whining about a couple hours ago? Yeah, I'm over that. Mark just called to tell me that Steve called him (at work! because that's how stupid he is!) to say he'd be over this afternoon. Mark's afraid he'll be late and keep us up past our bedtime, which could happen. But really? It's way more likely he'll be early.

If I could trust the aged nemesis to not open the door I'd just go to the park for the rest of the day. But someone must guard the gates of Gilead, and Ranger, our head of security, will need the troops behind her.
little_tristan: (Kitten Glowing Kitten is Glowing)
Looking at my last update, I notice that things didn't go exactly as planned. It was chilly Tuesday so I paid the shop rent and blew off going to Lowe's. I did that Wednesday instead. It was a good trip out on the bus and a sucky one back, as the driver did a touch and go rolling stop and didn't pick me up. I was all pissed and walked home, with a stop at Harvest Fresh (which we call the hippy grocery store) where they actually have a build your own salad bar, to go, priced by the pound. I bought about 12 oz of my favorite veggies and took it home to eat.

Sadly, I also lost my sunglasses either in the store or on the street right outside it. For those who haven't met me yet, I can't actually see outside without some kind of shades. We're not sure exactly what the deal is, probably an MD related muscle weakness, but since sunglasses make it manageable, I don't worry about it. It was a hard walk home, though.

The good news is that Mark put the new lockset in the side door that night. He also installed the heavy-duty hasp inside the basement door and put my favorite big lock on it. And, just for my peace of mind, a smaller, lighter hasp on the kitchen side of the upstairs basement door. I close it and hang the open lock on it when we go to bed, just because I feel better. It's really there in case I actually hear someone in the basement, so I can lock them in and have a few minutes to get out of the house. Or if Steve actually comes back for his stuff, I'll lock it while he's in the house, if for no other reason than to openly display my distrust. I actually want him to come back and see that all the doors are locked against him now. That's how hurt I am. (We're also using a hasp to secure the back-shop door from the inside, but I fasten it with a carabiner. We don't have a key to the lock that's lying around out there and the a-n might decide to use it.)

But enough of that. Heather came over yesterday and we went out on foot to do a bunch of errands. The first being a stop at Ross for new sunglasses. I wore a visor and only looked at the ground two feet ahead, but it was still grueling. Still, I can only buy them at Ross. I don't think it's snobbery, I've owned dozens of pairs of shades of every type and price range, and the mid-level designer ones are just the best. I can always find a style that suits my face and the lenses are top quality. The dollar store ones Heather likes just reduce everything to shadow, and the blue-blockers reflect too much. But Ross always has something that looks good and lets me see clearly in any light, for around $10. I think I'm wearing Steve Madden now. In a few years, when they've been lost, or dropped and run over (the usual CoD), I get to go back and pick out another pair. I love an excuse to shop.

Another good excuse is winter! Heather's been collecting school clothes for her kids on all our trips, so after we looked at all the cool stuff we couldn't justify actually buying, I was able to justify a really amazing knit scarf in a kind of round scallop pattern that I've never seen before. It feels like angora, although it was probably way too inexpensive to actually be, so I had to have it. Even though it's green. But it's a really dark, neutral, moss in the forest shadows green, so I think it'll fit in nicely with the black/white/grey thing I have going on. And when CL needed socks, I discovered knee high Hello Kittys in grey/black and red/black. On clearance! So much warm, soft kittyness for my legs this year! Heather got shoes for the kids and it was over to Safeway for some lunch from the deli.

Then we crossed over to Walmart so she could get pull-ups for the baby (has anyone else noticed how they've racially diversified the diaper section? Let's hope it hits the big kid clothes soon) and some keys for the new doorknob. Russ and I each had one, but we needed more for Mark, Heather, and the a-n. Who, thank dog, forgot his momentary obsession with having keys for all the padlocks we're installing. His excuse? There might be a fire. I asked him why he'd want to get into the basement in case of fire--if the fire was down there, keeping the door closed would be a good idea, containment-wise, and he'd just fall down the unbelievable lethal stairs anyway--and he lost his shit, as always. Luckily the forgetting stuff worked for me this time. Almost makes up for the incredibly demented story he made up the other night about Steve stealing cash from him.*

Okay, then we went to Goodwill and I found FOUR heavy skirts for winter. One all black, one black and grey checked, one grey with black roses, and one that's just grey. I think all of them except the one with roses will look good with the Kitty socks, too. Heather found some more clothes for the kids, including an unlicensed knockoff HK dress for CL, which is just as adorable as it can be. It's kind of an old-fashioned party dress style with a long puffed skirt and a sash that ties in back. Thinking about it now, I suspect it was handmade by one of the local Hispanic woman for a little girl's party. You can tell it's not real Sanrio because HK has a cute little smiley mouth. I'd post pix but Heather has strict rules about her kids' pictures online. It's not allowed. Ever. Okay, I guess she has one strict rule. (Except for that one on my FB where her son is a week old and I'm wearing him a body sling and you can't even see his face. My friend took that pic and it's a work of art.)

We stopped at the park on the way back so the kids could run around some and then came home to confirm the news Mark gave me over the phone at Goodwill: that some punk-ass, uninsured, fucktard had hit Heather's van, my mommy's van, while it was safely and legally parked in front of our house. He'd assured me that it wasn't bad, that the other car had taken a lot more damage, and she definitely shouldn't worry. But of course we did.

Mark was right, though. There's a little scuff on the door below the trim where it says Venture, and sadly she's determined that it goes down to the primer, but she knows a guy who can fix it. We have good insurance on it since she hasn't changed the title, but she's scared they'll total it out because it's 8 years old and she'll have to buy the kind of crap car they'll assume hers is because they didn't know my mom.

Apparently what happened is someone backed into the driver's door in some kind of hatchback or mini-van/SUV thing and the side mirror punched out their big, overly-tinted rear window. It was easily the blackest glass I've ever seen outside an art studio and Heather swept up at least ten pounds of it. She said it's either medical grade or was bought out of state because Oregon doesn't allow that much tint.

Personally I think we're lucky the person who lost all that glass didn't get out and smash one of Heather's windows just out of spite. It must've been tempting.

The neighbors across the street said they didn't see it happen and they had no idea who it was. They heard the crash but the other car was gone when they got outside. This is, of course, a complete lie. They're always outside or in the front room looking out the windows. They see everything. And the only way the angles could have worked is if the other car was, you know, backing out of their driveway. (Interestingly, the woman I talked to kept calling the driver "she", which is grammatically unusual when referring to an unsub. Most people say either "he" or "they".) They're pot dealers and alcoholics, good friends of Steve's although yesterday was the first time I'd ever spoken to them, and they have random drunks and stoners staggering in and out of there in their black-windowed bass thumpers all hours of the day and night. There were three visitors' cars in the drive when I was talking to them. Now we're waiting to see, purely out of curiosity, which of the regulars stays away for a couple days, or comes back in a different car.

The last thing we did was sort my clothes again. Heather takes away everything I don't want and gives it to her friends, or a thrift store, or makes it into something else. This time I added two purple t-shirts that I don't wear because of the company logos so she can make them into necklaces for me. I love her t-shirt necklaces, I just don't have one yet. No one knows how she does it, but she can make anything out of anything else. I'm using a shopping bag that she sewed from a plastic bag of Purina Chicken Chow. She gets all my dog and cat chow bags, of course, and I get a shopping bag for every 5 bags I give her. Anyway, sorting out the bin of old stuff gave us a place to put the new winter stuff. When it's time to wear it, the strapless shirts and short skirts of summer will go into the bin and the heavy skirts and fuzzy sweaters of winter will come out. Maybe this winter won't be so bad if I feel pretty.


*Okay, yes, Steve's a thief. Yes, he stole some money from my purse a few weeks after he moved in and I chose to let it go that once. But I know the old man's story is bullshit because we all remember the bait money he left on his desk until it actually got dusty, like dried up cheese in an old mouse trap. The boys eventually took it to relieve everyone of the humiliation of continually trying to entrap a member of the household in such an obvious way. The best part? The old fart coincidentally put the $10 piece of cheese out a week or so after Steve actually did steal from me, which I never told anyone about, but he surely believed I would. I smile a little when I imagine how that must have felt.
little_tristan: (Bloom County cutter john)
The airshow was fiercely hot. Like, the most intense heat I've ever endured without it degenerating into a medical emergency. The high temperature was 101, which for you metric users is really freaking high, even for Fahrenheit. But we were able to get through it with the aid of sunscreen, lots of water, soft frozen lemonade, and an Erickson skycrane, under whose nose we huddled for six hours like New Mexico rattlesnakes in the shade of a rock. We were there for so long people thought we were volunteers and started asking questions like how fast it could go and how much it could lift. Fortunately Russell knew all the answers. And I suspect we're going to show up on a lot of FaceBook pages, since no one asked us to move before they took pictures. (Here's an F-15, here's the kids in an Army Blackhawk, and this is the cripple who guarded the skycrane.)

We saw Mark's favorite plane, the P-51 Mustang, and a Harrier jet that was easily the most impressive thing ever. My favorite has always been the SR-71 Blackbird, but since they don't fly those anymore (NASA maybe has one, and the one out here is flyable but no one's lining up to try), I might have to change my vote. You gotta respect a freaking jet that can hover like a hummingbird.

I also got to see, but sadly not meet, Ben "Flaps" Berry, Oregon's very own Tuskegee Airman. So it was a pretty special day, made all the better by coming home to two happy dogs (they had a/c, lucky bitches) and no sign that Steve had been in the house. That was our fondest hope for the day, other than surviving the heat.

I'm pleasantly surprised by how unemotional the whole dissolution has been. (At least for me; no idea what's going on with Steve.) I think it's partly because the end of this project, Grow Your Own Caregiver, coincided so neatly with the beginning of my current project, Operation Financial Solvency. There's actually a fair amount of overlap, meaning the faster GYOC ends, the more progress I can make on OFS. And it turns out that being alone in the house isn't so bad, compared to the stress of anticipating the daily snarl.

Instead I'm looking forward to Heather, who's going to help me put away yesterday's laundry and wash the dogs. Also, maybe, give me a cigarette. I'm being really good, only two store bought ones and a homeroll on Saturday, and one homeroll yesterday, but this cold turkey thing is hard. I'll be happy if I can keep it to one a day.
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
Heather and I have been doing so much lately, I'm not sure I can remember it all. She was great about being over here as much as possible, even on Monday and Tuesday when it was unexpected. CL had some whining issues, but we kept them out in the front yard with the sidewalk chalk and bubbles as much as we could. It sucked being sick, but I did get to nap a couple times.

Mark and I are working out a check-in system so I'll be marginally safer at home alone. I set a reminder on my phone to tell me to text him every hour (unpaid advertisement: the Alarmed app for iPhone is a freaking steal at .99). If I don't text by ten after, he calls me. If I don't answer, he lets it ring through to voicemail three times and then either comes home or sends Heather, whichever works best for them. We've been doing it all week as a trial run and it's working out pretty well. Heather wants them to take me to work once a twice a week, too, so she can pick me up and take me to her house, or shopping (there's a second hand clothes store that sells everything by the pound; I really want to check that out), or over to her friend's where they make jewelry.

We went to the county fair on Wednesday and I got to make earrings with Maggie, whom I met at Turkey Rama. She sells a lot of silver and turquoise and I was looking for earrings to match Mark's necklace. I found some that were the right shade of green, but they had red accents And cost $56. She said she'd bring green beads to the fair and make simple earrings for a lower price ($16). But when I found her, she wanted to show me how to make them myself so I got a quick lesson. And a huge discount (paid $5), since she was having so much fun. I actually made one of them myself and even Mark was impressed by the quality and color of the stones. She also whipped up a pair of pearl ones to match a bracelet I was wearing and gave them to me for free. She's kind of a recruiter, I guess, and wants me to start making my own. I think it sounds like a big investment and a lot of work, but I'll try it out with Heather's friends, at least. It would be kind of neat to make exactly what I want. Assuming I can figure out what that is.:)

We also did the regular fair stuff: ate corndogs and elephant ears, petted all the horses in the stables, watched the English style riders warm up in the outdoor ring before their show (one boy of about 11 or 12 was riding the most beautiful mule I've ever seen and doing a fine job of it), and let the kids go on a couple rides. Cousin Iola (Heather's aunt) came along, and our friend Caitlin, who also makes jewelry, so chasing the kids wasn't as bad as it could have been.

I didn't especially like leaving Steve at the house alone after he was fired, but he spent most of the day out walking around. When we left the fair, Heather took me to the doctor and everyone else went to the park. Dr. B was open to the idea of increasing my Depakote so I'm taking it 3 times a day instead of 2. He also thinks my sinus thing is allergies rather than a virus or bacteria, although there does seem to be some bacterial action going on. It's getting better, though, so we decided against antibiotics for now. Instead he prescribed a nasal allergy mist that I'm really excited about.

Today is kind of a low-key, work around the house day. The boys are doing their inventing thing while I rest and watch Criminal Minds DVDs. Tomorrow we're going to the big airshow in Hillsboro to see some WWII fighters and the USAF Thunderbirds. It'll be our first actual complete day off as a family in years. Unfortunately it's also supposed to be the hottest day of the year so far with a high of 101, but if it sucks we can always leave. And maybe get a milkshake from the Burgerville across from the airport.

It's nice having our house back.
little_tristan: (Hamster Spaghetti)
Mostly an excuse to break out my new userpic. But I did say I would say something about the book club meeting last weekend. I still don't quite know what to say, except that it was weird. Like, hamster at a horse show weird. The women were lovely but intimidating. We met at Judy's house out in the country, but not like the country where I grew up, with farms and grain fields. This was Tasteful Country, with winding paved driveways, fishponds and fountains in the front yard, casual weekend outfits that cost more than everything I own (combined), and extremely polite horses looking picturesque along the roads. When we weren't talking about my book, they were talking about the various countries they'd visited so far this year and the places they'll be going before they return to teaching and antique store managing and whatever else tasteful, educated people do. It was hardcore.

These people read my book. They talked about it among themselves. Then they served deli food from an adorable cafe in town while I talked about it. Not being educated, I've never had to present a paper or defend a thesis, but I did get to analyze the exterior symbols of my heart and soul with people who had opinions about it. I sort of wish I'd become an engineer or a physicist. You know, something easy.

Hopefully one day I'll have recovered enough to remember what was actually said. Or maybe it's better if I don't.

The rest of the week was up and down. The weather's been great so I've gone out as much as possible. Steve's been a good sport about it and I've been letting him get away as much as possible. Thursday the boys hired him away to work on their machine and Friday he left early in the morning to go camping. The boys have been home since Wednesday so they can get lots of work done. I haven't really seen them much, but Mark let me pick the colors for his touch screen controller last night. It's terribly difficult programming and I'm very proud of him.

This coming week Steve's supposed to be finishing up at the shop. I'm supposed to go with him where I can be properly supervised, but I feel bad about it. It'd be a good chance for him to not be near me, but I think he's scared of Mark or something. It drives me crazy when people don't talk. All I can do is guess and I never guess positively.

Friday morning I got a call from the bank letting me know that they'd been alerted, either by a merchant or law enforcement (she didn't know or wouldn't say which) that my debit card number had been compromised. I assume an ATM camera caught Steve using it and reading the PIN off his hand or something but without more information I couldn't risk it. So they're sending me a new card and I just won't have one until it gets here. Whine. Except I still have Russell's from the grocery store.

The wheelchair repairman came over and explained why I have to use a crap-ass controller forever, but maybe not with an external view screen. Those are for people who can't move or raise their heads to look at the box and the salesman was just being a dick when he made me take it. And why not? He was a dick about everything else. I'm using my old chair now and it's kind of nice. Like a proper exoskeleton should be.

Last night I decided to look for my step-grandma whom I haven't seen or heard from in about ten years. She moved to CA to be near her kids and grandkids, and probably great great grandkids by now. I found her, but it turns out she died nine months ago. That was kind of a bummer. I mean, she was only technically my grandma from 1980 to 1994 (my dad stopped counting when his dad died in '87; I give her until she remarried and moved away), but still.

I don't know if I'm getting depressed again or if it's just PMS. Either way, there's a pint of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer that should help.
little_tristan: (Firefly See Kaylee Smile)
As you may have guessed, there were tacos! And not just any tacos. Today has been declared National Taco Day in Gilead and we expect to celebrate it annually. Yes, Steve cooked. His gf was over to get him and Monkey, but since he's laid down the law about not leaving before the boys get home, she doesn't get here until he's free to leave. I thought she was getting here early to spend the maximum amount of time with him, but it turns out that was all about getting him out early. Anyway, she was going to drive him to the store to get meat and joking about buying steak instead of hamburger since we're paying. I said if he wanted to use good meat, we had a whole tenderloin in the fridge that was on sale last weekend. So we're talking fillet mignon tacos here. With pan fried tortillas, which I'd also never had. I don't know if I can ever go back to hamburger. And Taco Bell? Can suck it.

Fortunately it didn't rain until late so Monkey got to play outside a lot. Mostly with the weird kid from across the street, who turned out to be pretty normal up close. Most people do. It's been murder on Steve trying to get his work done and look after both of us at the same time, but he did an amazing job. I know he feels bad about dropping an unexpected kid on me for two straight days, and for a half hour or so this morning I was kind of trembling on the edge, but it's not his fault. He pretty much turned his life over to the gf when he gave his heart to her kids.

Anyway, I got some reading in and almost wrote something at one point. It's a bummer that I didn't actually, but a major sign of improvement that I wanted to rather than just feeling like I should. Hopefully I can wrap up this scene tomorrow. If there's time with the showering and grocery shopping and all the other stuff I need to do so I can be gone Sunday. Okay, maybe writing on Monday. But I swear I'll be thinking about it the whole time.
little_tristan: (Bloom County cutter john)
It's actually been pretty fun. Steve's gf was here this morning and she left her five year old Monkey for him to watch. I don't know exactly how that conversation went, but it resulted in an extra hand dusting this morning and a trip to the park this afternoon. It never did rain, or get hot.

The park is a long walk for a five year old, so Monkey got to ride in my lap (safely buckled in, of course). Steve rode his bike and left us there for a minute while he went to the store for refreshments. I watched Monkey play on the structure until he got back and then it was time for more disc golf. Monkey is surprisingly good at it, although having an audience seems to be throwing Steve. I almost told him to relax, he already knows I'm going home with him, but that would just throw him off worse. ;)

He played one round and then we stopped so Monkey could climb and slide some more. They played a few more holes before he got bored again and there was more swinging and climbing. I have video. We walked all the way back through the park and Steve rode him around on his bike for a while, until they had one of those minor accidents that are the reason you only let kids ride on your bike on soft grass (if at all). Monkey cried and Steve was competent and comforting and five minutes later we were on our way home to make supper. Right now he's playing at the neighbors' while Steve cooks. Apparently Monkey's also staying the night.

While all this was going on, something else happened. It started yesterday when I picked up my prescriptions at Walgreens. There were supposed to be three and I didn't notice until I got home and opened the bags that the Vicodin was missing. This morning I checked on my iPhone app to see if it was ready yet, but it said that it had been picked up.

I called the pharmacy and explained it to the manager, thinking it was a mistake and this highly controlled narcotic was just sitting on the shelf, the victim of a clerical error. But no. He checked the computer and verified my part of the story. That I paid for the ones I actually got at about a quarter to noon. It also said that the Vicodin wasn't filled until about a quarter past two, more than two hours after we left, and was sold about two hours after that. That put it between four and four-thirty, when we were all home watching tv and eating supper like we do every afternoon. The manager said he'd check the videotape and get back to me.

I kept thinking about the rude clerk, whom I've never seen there before, and the dudebro in the sunglasses. It's hard to pick up a script like that. You need to know things about yourself that match the info in their computer. The only thing that made sense was that the clerk, or another staff member, pocketed it or sold it to an accomplice (this sounds paranoid but we were victims of a credit card scam a few years ago that was way more complex). That would make the perpetrator stupid, because if it had been filled on time s/he could have easily said it was in the bag and I couldn't have proven it wasn't.

What I was later told was that it got mixed in with someone else's prescriptions and given to them, although it still scanned out to me. I got my refill for free, ultimately, and I hope whoever actually got my original one is okay. Assuming that's really what happened. It also sounds like something you'd tell a customer when you're potentially seriously fucked and don't want it to go public. Like if I get my pills and someone gets fired, there's no need to make a big fuss.

I still haven't decided if I'm okay with that.
little_tristan: (Steve Dallas)
But right now it's really sunny. Yesterday was hot. We went to Walgreens and I rediscovered my capacity for rage when a big old dudebro in cheap sunglasses cut in front of me in line and the clerk let him. So I have emotions again. That's good. Then there was sitting in the backyard reading while Steve did something really cool with a nice cut of beef. I think it was a loin but he made it into little marinated steaks. It was awesome.

It was still really warm and sunny after so Steve and I went over to the park and he showed me how to play disc golf. Which I can never, ever actually do, but he's really good and it's fun to watch. If it doesn't rain today we might go again. I like being outside.

Apparently the book club appearance I'm supposed to do is this weekend. Heather kept reminding me about it but I just wasn't getting how close it was. Good time to clear my head, right? But I'm not thinking about it too much. Not a good time for more stress.
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
Yesterday was weird. That was a given, right? I enjoyed being weirdly aware of how weird everything was. I spent most of the morning being nervous and wondering what it would be like when we started playing with my brain again. It's like a religious conversion or kicking an addiction. There's this point where you realized they're about to take something away from you and add in something different, and they say it will be better, and you believe it will be better, eventually, but you're still scared as hell because you don't know yet what you'll be after.

I think I tried to explain that to Steve outside the doctor's office, when it was too late to turn back. But I was crying and I don't know how much he understood. It doesn't matter. I finally understand that he understands enough. He may not know the names of all the things that walk and crawl upon the earth, but he knows of what the earth itself is made.

The doctor decided that we had to be very careful because when one messes with psych meds, things tend to get worse before they get better. Even when you know it's going to get better, it's hard to endure. So we're going to reduce the antidepressant that we just increased a few months ago and see if I can go back to that point of stability. If I do or don't, the options get complex. I'm not thinking about that now.

Mark picked us up and we went to the pool. We dropped Steve downtown to ride his bike home. He's not ready for the pool yet. But it may not actually matter. Since physical therapy is goal-oriented and there are guidelines as to how long recovering is supposed to take, I'm probably only going to get 3 or 4 more appointments. Unless my secondary insurance picks up, and then it depends on what they pay. After that we'll look into going to the public pool. Maybe there's a time it's not too crowded.

In good news, I've lost another ten pounds. Only seven more before I'm back down to the weight I was in 1997 when a guy who was supposed to be in love with me said I was gross and suggested I not eat at all for 6 months or so. Funny how I feel much thinner now than I did that day. Maybe it's the jewelry. But I don't think so.

Today I feel awake. I don't know if it's real, chemically induced, or wishful thinking. It doesn't matter. This will be the last sunny day for at least a week and we're going to Walgreens later so I can enjoy it. Right now Criminal Minds is on and the sun is shining on the porch. I can see the tv from there.
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
Not the stuff I should be writing, like my book. Although I thought of a good scene last night that I'm sort of looking forward to.

It turns out that the flip side of dreams seeming real is that everything kind of feels like a dream. So I'm trying to post more and writing things down in the daily log. Tomorrow this will be how I know what happened today.

Later this afternoon Steve and I are taking the bus to the doctor. Mark will meet us there after work and take me to water therapy. I'm going to suggest that Steve put his bike in the van so we can drop him off along the way. He wants to have supper ready when we get home. I'll be too tired after therapy to record these things, but I know they're going to happen.

Yesterday Heather told me what she observed of Steve over the weekend, which is what I observed last week. Something was bothering him and she confirmed my guess as to what it was. He was willing to talk about it a little and I think his mind is somewhat at ease on the matter now. At least he trusts that we're going to help as much as we can, and things have lightened up a little between us. It's a huge relief. Usually when I get depressed I focus it on people's perceived attitudes and drown in the belief that they don't care if I live or die. But I can't look him in the eye anymore and accuse him of that. His caring isn't the type I'm used to, but it's still pretty obvious. Which means I have to protect him from all this as much as possible, but I can also rest in the knowledge that he understands and will protect me.

It's good not to be alone.
little_tristan: (Kitten Oxygen)
It's not exactly like the sun coming out. It's more like looking at the clock and realizing that it will come up in a few hours.

I'm still sad. But it's not anyone's fault. It's just me. The dreams are getting weird. That's when I know for sure something is wrong. I asked Steve when it started. When I started to go crazy this time. He refused to answer on the grounds that it could be used against him later, but the rest of the family agrees it was about three weeks ago. I didn't tell them right away about the fake memories. Even when I know I've lost touch with reality, it's scary to admit. Bad for my credibility. But there are too many memories in my head that logic tells me didn't happen.

It's good to still have logic.

Steve's going with me to the doctor as soon as I can get an appointment. He doesn't want too much responsibility for keeping me together, but he's promised to help me sort out what's real and what isn't until we get this thing under control. It's good to be able to trust the family. They won't mess with my mind when it's hanging by a thread.

Yesterday Heather and I emptied Mom's storage unit. It was too expensive and too far away to keep dealing with. We were going to put most of it in another unit here in town, but it got late and started raining so we left it in the van. Except for the cheap cat litter that Mom used when the roads were bad. Steve helped me put that into effect in my new front porch ashtray project. And we found a really old plastic milk crate that Heather washed off and helped me fill with all the new books I bought this summer. We got Willow a new dog crate at a yard sale last week. It's as tall as my desk, so I'm stacking milk crates on top to make more bookshelves. More dusting for Steve.

This morning the boys took the van load of stuff over to our rented shop and stacked it in a corner there under a tarp. That's better than renting another unit. We have a one year lease so it's safe through next March. It's also three blocks away and I have a key. That makes me feel better.

We found the quilts that Dad's mother gave my parents as a wedding present. Grandma made quilts for everyone, the way Mom's mother crocheted afghans. I think I got the last quilt ever given a grandchild, because she died when I was not quite 3. Heather got the pieces for hers and finished it herself a few years ago. Mom thought the quilts were gone, probably stolen when her last unit was broken into. There was a lot of stuff from Dad's store that I expected to find and didn't. I guess that actually was stolen. It's weird getting to the end of the stuff and knowing there should be more. I wish I could ask her about it. And more than that, that I could tell her we still have the quilts.
little_tristan: (Cream of Darkness)
The weather's been semi-agreeable. Monday and Tuesday were just bearable, but rainy. I've been sad, and even though I know why, I'm still being a bitch and taking it out on Steve, who's just trying to live his life. Well, not taking it out on him exactly. I'm not mad at him, just suspecting him of plotting. Which he doesn't do. I can't really see him ever being legitimately accused of plotting evil against anyone. But I've been sad and he's had to bear the brunt of it, being the one who's here and all. Yesterday he made me cry and things are awkward, but it was by saying something kind so I can't explain it without revealing the inner darkness of my cobwebby brain.

But. I went to the pool Tuesday and it was good. Better than last time. Probably just needed a little time off. I was walking and standing and keeping my heels down and everything. Still, good thing there was ice cream in the house when I got home.

I just found this on my desktop. I think I started it Thursday. Wednesday was hot and also free bus day, so Steve and I went to the doctor's office so I could have blood drawn. I was hopeful going in, but when the puncture wouldn't stop bleeding that kind of told me what the result will be. Also, the bruise is huge. I enjoyed having the chance to go anywhere, but Steve is understandably bored. Yesterday we went to the post office to mail books. I don't know how he can stand it.

Cousin Heather is coming over today to play with me. I want to empty Mom's storage unit in Dallas, but Steve wants to leave as early as possible so I don't know if we can do that. Everyone leaves as early as possible. They show up as late as possible and then watch the clock, waiting for it to be time to go. I can't seem to stop crying about that this week. And me crying makes Steve squirm and watch the clock.

Note: This is in no way a complaint about Steve, who is great. It's just my feelings about always having to choose between staying home and being left out, or insisting on going somewhere and being a huge burden that ruins everyone else's fun.

So I'm at a bit of an impasse, which is a tidy little way of saying I'm in hell.

But other than that, everything's okay. I got rejected for a clinical drug trial for depression. It's probably for the best, all things considered, but I am interested in therapies that haven't been tried by other human beings. I'll probably keep looking into it, to see if I qualify for another one later. In the meantime, I'm cheering myself up with inexpensive blown glass jewelry from eBay. And Criminal Minds. Reid brings da happy, and it's something Steve and I can do together.
little_tristan: (Saints1)
I've stopped having the recurring nightmare about the strange houses. Other nightmares are taking its place, but they aren't nearly as bad. This is a good thing.

Last night Steve experimented with a new pork chop recipe and now I don't feel very good. Not sick, just odd. It might be some kind of heartburn (or pork overdose). It feels like pressure from the middle of my sternum to the base of my throat but it never started burning. Hopefully it'll go away soon. It's pool day.

Nature Noir is a really good book. I bought it under the impression that Jordan Smith was a woman, but eventually the author says that it was right and just but bad for his career when the park services started making up quotas of women and minorities. Several chapters after reading that, I still picture a woman. There's no mention of girlfriends or wives, no subtle sexism, no comments at all about women rangers being less able or less useful in the parks. In a lot of ways he writes like a woman, too. Way more nature porn than you usually get outside of actual poetry. Now I wonder if he's gay. I think I'd like gay ranger stories.

Steve's got me watching Criminal Minds. That might become my new fandom. I'm developing a bit of a Reid/Morgan thing already. Turns out I didn't used to watch it because it used to have Mandy Patinkin and I avoid him on principle. His face annoys me. Also his name. But we haven't seen any of his episodes on A&E yet so I don't care. I'll be getting them on DVD soon to catch up, but it'll be okay. I know he won't be there long.

I need more purple beaded jewelry. That's just an observation. But it's true.
little_tristan: (Bunny)
The amazing [livejournal.com profile] catyah was over on Wednesday for tv watching and a tour of downtown. We went to the retro jewelry store and the bookstore that I only found out about by accident after she left last year. Steve went out by himself and played the best game of disc golf in his life, then came home and made breaded pork chops for everyone. Of course we were late and he enjoyed telling me two or three times that he was home on time to cook for Mark. Well, he deserves to be on top once in a while. They were really good pork chops.

Thursday morning, after my run in with stupidity, the Catyahs came over to say goodbye on their way to Portland. It was a nice sunny day so Steve and I went to the farmer's market downtown for strawberries and baby red potatoes that he knows how to do something with. I'm not sure what, but it sounded good.

The boys were off work Friday so they could work on their machine at the shop here (we rented a building a few blocks away to invent in), so I let Steve go early. We spent most of the morning over there setting up the new bandsaw. For some reason there are still bandsaw blades all over the living room, though. Willow keeps trying to chew on them.

The writing has abruptly resumed. I never mention when I stop, but I keep stopping. One of the characters is hard to keep a handle on. Whenever he slips out of my reach, the whole thing grinds to a halt. This weekend I had a solid grip on him and a lot got done. Which is good, since Mark forgot we were supposed to go to a movie, and that I needed to pop by the doctor's office for a blood draw. At least I had something else to do. Bad luck for Steve, though. He'll have to go with me to the doctor's as soon as the weather clears enough to catch a bus. He will, though. He came home last night and everything.
little_tristan: (Steve Dallas)
I knew it was going to be a bad luck day when I started dropping everything. But even I didn't know how stupid it was going to get. I dropped something when I was on the porch and thought the biggest danger was running over it. But it turned out not to be on the porch, it was on the powerbase of my chair, just under the bar and behind the fender. I couldn't reach it so I decided the answer was to get on the sofa where I could approach from a better angle. It was going okay for the first few seconds, and then my skirt came in contact with the leather and I flew off there like the Rocketeer in mid-seizure. It was a bad fall, a bad landing, and a bad time to have my phone charging across the room.

An hour later, having lost movement in my right arm, which was splayed out behind my back, and all feeling in my right leg, which was just pinned under the rest of me, I heard the old man on the ramps and started yelling again. He came in and we had a hilarious few minutes where he first had to identify my phone as a phone and then unplug it from the computer, since he just got a new one and I haven't programmed Steve's number in it yet, and then I started calling Steve. Who had his phone on vibrate again and didn't answer until the a-n yelled up the stairs a few times. But. )
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
Yesterday we loaded up the van and went to Lincoln City so the Catyahs could see the ocean again. And I could get some of that awesome glass jewelry that I somehow managed to resist buying when I was there with Heather last month. (I said if I still wanted it later I could have some. Turns out I did.) So we went to the D River Wayside, Lincoln City's biggest tourist attraction, where the world's shortest river runs from Devil's "D" Lake to the ocean. I stayed in the van while the Catyahs and Steve walked on the beach for a while. They found a lot of really cool rocks and shells and sea glass, and I think Catyah has a piece of polished coral.

It was kind of foggy and misty but not too cold, so after a while Steve came back and got me out of the van. I'd been sitting there thinking about all the times I went to that very spot with my family, feeding the seagulls and eating ice cream and walking on the beach looking for shells. I never found any sea glass, though. It wasn't a particularly sad moment, and I'd just smoked most of a really good joint, but by the time Steve came to check on me, I was crying. Probably inevitable. He never asks why, though. Not exactly. If it's a concrete reason, he wants to know. If it's some fucked up emotional cripple shit, he prefers to distract me rather than talk about it. But he does let me talk about it some. We looked at the waves for a while and then he took another walk along the waterline. I was cold when he got back so we got in the van and the Catyahs joined us shortly.
Then it was off downtown... )
little_tristan: (Riptide OT3)
Catyah will probably write about it, too, but while on the same trip, we had slightly different adventures. For instance, when she and Steve's gf were window shopping in stores none of us can afford, Steve and I were burning a bowl in the stairwell on the fifth level of a parking garage. But mostly we were on the same page. At least at Powell's. (Bad pun. Es tut mir leid.) We spent most of the day there on our adventure while Steve had a different one of his own. I'm not sure what it was, we don't ask a lot of questions, but he had a good time.

We ditched the gf downtown when we got on a train, which led to getting off and on a couple more trains, due to overcrowding. But we got to change under Washington Park, the deepest train station in the world (as I understand it), where the platform is divided by a stone wall with plastic tubing along both sides containing core samples from when they dug the tunnel. I love to look at the earth and compare the age of the soil/lava/etc to the depth at which it was found.

Of course it was freezing down there, too, so we caught the next thing headed up and west, and eventually made our way back to Hillsboro where Steve and I got baked in the back of the van. And forgot to tell Kitty to maybe wait outside since it was a parking garage and everything, so she got her very first contact high and we snorted like tiny dogs all the way home.

After Catyah went back to the hotel, I ran into Steve in the kitchen. I caught his eye and held it for a second, like I do when I really mean what I'm about to say and he has to listen, and told him thank you. He grinned and saluted, I said you did good, and he went to bed happy. I hope I remember this the next time he pisses me off. I'm crazy and he doesn't quite know what he's doing, but overall he makes my life better.

Today we're going to the beach. It might rain, but we don't care. We took a vote.:D
little_tristan: (Kitten Interwebs)
Just finished the last of the flist entries from the last time I caught up, so today I'm opening new tabs! See you soon!

While I do that, I'm watching Rescue Me and waiting for [livejournal.com profile] catyah to come over so we can hit the big city. There's no telling yet what kind of day it will be. Steve's not too keen on coming with us, and as near as I can tell, he got in around 2 this morning so he won't be terribly perky. On the one hand, it has the makings of a truly terrible day. But on the other hand, it's bright and sunny and Catyah will be there, so we just about can't not have fun. It's hard to imagine anyone being able to ruin it with any amount of grouchiness.
little_tristan: (Duck Ping)
Oh, what a week it's been. The estate abruptly closed yesterday afternoon. Luckily the boys had taken the day off to work on their machine, so I had Mark to drive me to the lawyer and the bank. I just made a soul-lightening payment on our credit card, with a little prayer of thanks to Mom.

Right now Russ is out getting new tires for Mom's van. Heather's coming to pick it up this afternoon, and drive me out to Sister's to get the last signature I need from her. Then there's just one final tax return to prepare and our family's forced march through the Bad Lands of probate is over.

No one felt like having a celebratory dinner last night, so we had breakfast at Shari's instead. Now there's a strawberry pie in the house.:)

Tomorrow [livejournal.com profile] catyah will be here and we'll be even busier! Steve absolutely promised he'll be home tomorrow, too, so we won't be held up on our Monday morning adventures. Poor Steve gets a crash course on being an actual personal attendant away from home, with no other men to fall back on. But I'll buy him lunch. That evens out, right?

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