Filling a hole

If you read my post on the other blog today, you'll know that Chebbar single-handedly destroyed half my decor accidentally knocked over, and subsequently broke, a couple of things.  In an attempt to fill the whole he left in my heart living room, I decided some online "window" shopping was in order.  Of course, I got distracted by the shiny! and didn't really find what I was looking for.  But I did find some other stuff...

"Leaves" Metal Wall Decor $39.99

No real description on this one (hell, someone had to submit a question to find out what colour it was), but I think it's kind of cool looking.  Unfortunately, we're not looking for wall decor.

3-Piece Wall Art Set $139.99

These are poppies embroidered on faux-suede.  I love poppies.  Alas, still not looking for wall decor...

"Tao" Leaning CD Holder $99.99

I know most people don't have/buy CDs anymore, but we're old school.  *slides NKOTB CD behind laptop*  Really digging these.  However, I'd want one on either side of the fireplace for balance, and the entertainment unit is in the way on the non-hole side.

Brown 36" Plantation Floor Vase & Ivory Lillies $109.49

Now THIS is a little more something-that-goes-on-the-floor-and-fills-the-space!  Except I'm not sure how I feel about the whole fake flower/dust collector thing.  *snort*  Who the hell am I kidding?  I don't DUST!

Oh. My. God. (now with pictures!)

:-O

That?  Me, after getting a phone call from Chebbar (the poor bugger).  The exterminator came today to take care of the ants (who haven't made an appearance since Sunday - go figure), so Chebbar had gone around removing stuff from near the exterior walls - I guess what she does is drill tiny holes in the baseboards and fill 'em with a water-based vapour to kill the ants.  She had originally told him that she'd only be doing the exterior wall, so he didn't move anything on any of the other walls.  When he got home (he had to vacate the premises - oh, did you know that if you spray so much as Raid in your house, you're supposed to get out for a couple of hours until the chemicals settle/clear?  Yeah, I didn't when I ATE MY BREAKFAST after drowning the little suckers last week!), he found stuff moved on all the perimeter walls (even though they're inside the building, not outside).

I have a metal stand with a big, glass bowl that I got a hundred years ago at a Candle Lite-type party that housed a sizeable aloe plant, that sits in the corner between the fireplace and the chair.  The fireplace "hearth" is made up of those pebbled paving stones (don't ask: they were there when I bought the place).  There was also a... decorative dust catcher doohickey (it was one of those plastic-y garden decorations that "look" like granite - it was an angel slumped over a pedestal and MUCH cooler looking than it sounds, I promise) angled on the corner of the fireplace hearth all fancy-like; this was purchased two hundred years ago.


According to Chebbar, he moved the chair back into place without first moving the plant stand because, "like an idiot," he didn't think it would be in the way.


Well, he was wrong.


He ended up knocking the plant stand with the chair.  The plant stand fell over on top of the angel.  One of the angel's arms busted off and the pedestal was obliterated.  The edge of the glass bowl then made contact with the hearth and exploded.  The plant fell on the floor, loosening a bunch of the... fronds (?).


In one fell swoop, he UNdecorated half my living room by "removing" stuff I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of replacing.


The poor guy was quietly apologizing on repeat while I sat there going "Oh my god!  Oh my god!"  I think I shocked him when I started laughing - he thought for sure I'd be upset.  Don't get me wrong: I liked both those pieces or else they wouldn't be on display in my home, but I don't have a connection to them: it's not like he took a sledge hammer to my collection of tea cups and saucers from my Great Grannie.  All I could do was laugh because this is SO something that would happen to me - a domino effect of death and destruction to someone else's stuff.


I think this is gonna get me some guilt points in the bank.  Hehe*

     

 (She's crying cuz her pedestal's all busted to shit.)

*I'm totally joking, for the record.  We don't operate that way.

Tea party!

My great grandparents were from Scotland and drank tea with every meal, and then some: breakfast, lunch, "tea time," and dinner.  I grew up loving tea: I've been drinking it since I was three years old.  (Well, to be fair, it was 1/4 tea and 3/4 milk in a juice glass.)  Great Grannie had the loveliest tea cups and saucers, no two the same.  She had three miniature cups and saucers that us great grandkids were allowed once we were deemed old - and careful - enough.  She treasured those tea cups so much that it was an honour to receive one as a gift upon graduating high school (so imagine how amazed I was to get her entire collection when she passed away).

Oriental Tea Set $45.95

This lovely 9-piece set comes with a decorative box for storage.

Tea Cozy and Mug Hugger Combo $18

Great Grannie liked to crochet her tea cozies, but I love the pattern and colours on this one.  Plus, I couldn't crochet to save my life.  But I can shop like a mofo!  ;)  *cough* Sorry, Great Grannie.

Vintage Coral Tea Cup and Saucer $16

Gorgeous!  Reminds me of one I have at home!

Antiqued Silver Teapot Necklace $20

Okay, I know this isn't *directly* related to tea drinking, but it's still cute!

There's nothing a good cup of tea can't solve, really.  <3

HYC: Week 13

I had a melt down of epic proportions last night (and totally ridiculous, to boot: "Sometimes I wonder if I love YOU more than you love ME... "  Yeah.  I'm an asshole.  *shakes head*  I h.a.t.e. how fucking insecure I can get when my whore moans take over.); I chalked it up to pre-PMS insanity, even though it seems awfully early, but my period seems to be arriving earlier in the (placebo pill) week, so I guess it makes sense-ish.  

Other than that, I've been doing well.  No weird pains (we'll see how that goes at the end of next week, though); we walked five times again last week, including a surprise! walk at the river on Saturday (I thought we were heading grocery shopping: Chebbar had other ideas - I like his ideas!).  I woke up this morning looking forward to walking after work.  Such a great feeling!  It helps that we both got new running shoes this weekend - I totally have that "new shoes make me run FASTER!" thing going on like when I was 5.  (Did anyone else think that, or was it just me?  Chebbar looked at me like I was from Mars when I mentioned it.  Heh.)

My eating's been good.  I realized that I hadn't snacked after dinner for eight nights in a row - that was a pretty good feeling.  Also, we had frozen pizza for dinner last Friday and I ate less than I generally do (unfortunately that meant Chebbar ate more than he usually does, which caused a scary realization: the main reason I eat as much of the pizza I do is because I don't think HE needs so much of it - how jacked up is THAT?  I still don't think he needs 5-6 pieces, but that's on him.  He has to make his own choices, good or bad.).

Bitch & Moan Monday

I decided to play along with Kisha's Monday Meme here rather than clog up her comments with my WAAAH WAAAH WAAAAAAAH.

• I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.  CRAN.KAY.
• Actually, I wasn't cranky until I got to work and, y'know, had to work.  *curls lip*
• We had a job closing today.  The estimator was bitching about not have prices for an entire SECTION.  Why?  Because he failed to include them on his list for tender invitations.
• Enter eleventeen phone calls.
• Then Boss #1 wanted me to "find" him this job he heard about - no job name, no location, no closing date, nothing.  He advised me to use a specific website (for which he had no address).
• Said website is NOT user-friendly.
• I still haven't been able to get the requested drawings.
• Oh, and the estimator?  Doesn't have prices for this section either.  (Yeah, I know: I told you no one was bidding this job when you got here this morning.)
• Enter another eleventeen phone calls.
• Then I got a call from my doctor.  My ultrasound results "look good" - you know, the one where they checked my liver and kidneys?  (Double You Tee Eff, doctor: they were looking at my GALLBLADDER.)  And they noted a cyst on my left ovary (ultrasound tech told me it was gone... ) and a new one on the right, but that "looks good, too" (a 4cm cyst that flared up in less than a month is a *good* thing?  Oooookaaaaay!).  And we were going to wait to do another ultrasound *if* there was more pain?  (First I'm hearing of this: I was told to Get! More! Fiber!)?  Well, she's scheduled one for the beginning of June - how does that sound, good?  UM, NO.  When I told her that I already had an appointment booked because I was tired of this - we're on month six and I'm tired of this wait-and-see business - because I'm worried about shit like ovarian cancer and yes I *do* have family his... she cut me off to tell me we'd discuss it at my appointment.  O_O
• And more work stuff.  
• Blah, blah, blah.
• Also?  My jaw, that was fine all day yesterday, hurts today from the cavity I had filled.  
• I almost forgot!  Firefox is being bitchy and I'm ready to junk punch it before trading it in for Chrome.  I can't express how sad this makes me (lame, I know: shut it).

Hey, Monday?  Don't let the door hitcha.

Clothes shopping

I haven't really done a lot of garment-related posts because I wasn't sure how I wanted to approach this end of the Gimme-Gimmes.  This blog is meant to be all about the things I'd love if money - and size - were no object: I didn't necessarily want to limit myself to stuff that fits me now.  (A small part of me also didn't want to admit that I need *gasp!* The Dreaded Plus Size (sarcasm implied, people, please); however, if you've been over to my other blog during a Healthy You Challenge week (or on weigh-in day!), well, cat's out of the bag.)  At the same time, it seems silly to post a bunch of size 2 stuff that I can't wear (and likely never will be able to).  Blah.  Anyhoodle, I'm just gonna post anything I think is pretty/cool/awesome.  So there.  *sticks tongue out*

I was perusing the Kiyonna website today and drooling over many of their pieces - they have some gorgeous stuff!  (May I also say that my whole "if money were no object" thing is REALLY difficult when you've lived your life to this point being a tight-ass cheapskate?  Meep!)

"Saturday" Front-Tie Bellini in Frost Grey $62

I really like the gathering at the front of this jersey cover-up.  It's also light enough weight that it wouldn't be *too* warm.

"Stefani" Ruffled Top in Black $56 $38

I loved this on their homepage, but after seeing it in other colours I realized just HOW ruffled it is (it's hard to see on the black).  I'm not sure I could pull this off: I think I'd feel very self-conscious because I'm not a ruffle girl.  However, I do still like the look of it from this view...

"Ellis" Ruffle Sleeve Top in Purple Mosaic Print $58

I *love* this - I love the shape; I love the colours; I love the pattern; and, uh, judging by the pictures thus far I may just love this model.  *shifty eyes*  

Four Seasons Godet Skirt in Grey $86 $48

Love the kicky little godets!  (Yeah, didn't know what that word meant/that's what these were called until I read the description.)

The ants go marching seven by seven

Hey!  I'm guest-posting for THE VERY FIRST TIME over at Mommygeekology's today: swing by and check it out!  :)

*     *     *

When you stumble into the kitchen at 6:15am still blearily rubbing sleep from your eyes, that's NOT what you want to see skittering across the floor.

*shivers*

And these were BIG ants.  After conducting extensive Google research, I'm 95% certain they're carpenter ants.  Carpenter ants are BAD.  BIG BAD.  Have I mentioned that we live on the top floor of our building?  Yeah.  The little big suckers were all congregated along the baseboard where the sink is, which is on the wall shared with the building's hallway (as in, these suckers didn't crawl up four stories, prance across our balcony, traverse the carpet in the living room, before trekking across the lino in the kitchen: they're likely in said shared wall.  Which means bugs.  In the walls.  Ew.  We had also seen two similar ants in the elevator last weekend, so they're not *just* in our unit (nor are they in any other room of our unit - y'know, where there are windows for ingress)).

I squished the first two with my slipper, but when more and more kept appearing (I think they were preparing to avenge their brothers' deaths), I grabbed the Raid and drowned the little fuckers.

*shivers again*

I called Chebbar later this morning to see if he had seen any ants.  Ants, you say?  Well, I'll take that as a no.  But, hark!  What's this he finds?  THREE MORE.  How the HELL am I supposed to sleep tonight?!?

*shivers harder*

I told him that I guessed I'd better call the strata management company; he suggested I ask if anyone else has been complaining about ants.

(Oh, and for the record?  We're not Grossy McHoardersons who have garbage and food all over, SWEAR TO BABY JEEBUS.)

So, I called.  I explained.  I completely forgot to ask if anyone else has been having a problem (THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! I SHOULDN'T MAKE IMPORTANT PHONE CALLS!).  Strata Dude *immediately* said he'd call pest control, and fairly tripped over himself in stating that as far as he was concerned, this was a strata issue (that right there seems to say to me that other people probably have complained).  He said that the pest control company generally makes a visit on the same day.

We still haven't heard from them.  Chebbar has killed three MORE big, fat, black, icky, creepy ants.

*shivers even harder. again.*

"Results" (HA!)

I called the imaging department yesterday to see about booking an appointment since I hadn't heard from them.  (SO glad I listened to the nurse in ER instead of arguing semantics: the doctor - as well as the requisition - said to call if I hadn't heard from them in two business days, two business days being Monday and Tuesday (meaning I should call Wednesday).  When the nurse brought me the req, she said something about calling Tuesday after 11am if I hadn't heard from them by then.  I started to argue clarify, but Chebbar cut me off and thanked her.  So, yesterday at 11:00:01am, I called.  "Yes, we have you booked for 8 o'clock tomorrow morning."  o_O  If I *had* been a stubborn asshole and waited two full days instead of heeding the nurse's advice, I would have missed said ultrasound.  Oy.)

I got there bright and early, mostly because I was worried about finding parking (they're doing construction and I'm too cheap to pay for parking, so I had to give myself enough time to walk a few blocks if need be).  I was registered and in the back by 7:45.  Once again, the medical community saw fit to over-book (there were FIVE of us with appointments at 8am, and they were only using two of the four ultrasound suites).

Anyhow, long story short (GOD, I'm verbose!  Sorry 'bout that... ), "unofficially" the ultrasound tech didn't see any gallstones.  As well, the cyst on my left ovary is gone, BUT! I now have a 4cm cyst on my right ovary.  That's 2 inches.  THAT'S HUGE.  Granted, I know it's not as big as some, but shit!  I've got something the size of a golf ball attacking attached to my poor widdle ovary!  The U/S tech double-checked the last ultrasound just to make sure that they hadn't somehow mixed up the left and right, but it was definitely on my left ovary.

So, yeah.  No *real* answers because, while this cyst is on the same side as the pains I've been having, it has developed sometime after my ultrasound on February 26, so not the cause of the pain from November to that point.  It will be about a week before my hack doctor gets the results.  I guess I'll be making yet another appointment, except this time I'm not leaving without a referral to a specialist (what kind, I'm not sure: gynecologist? endocrinologist? gastroenterologist?  I mean, *in theory* I shouldn't even be getting cysts because I'm on the pill and therefore not (supposed to be) ovulating!) - enough is enough and I'm not going to continue being put off by her with her "suggestions" of MOAR FIBER!!!1!one!

HYC: Week 12

I did something completely mortifying last night.*

I asked Chebbar to take my measurements for me.  And my face burned the. entire. time.  (No, seriously: we were in the living room and there's a mirror on the wall that gave me a perfect view of my tomato-red face.)

*I know it's a little ridiculous to be mortified to ask this of the guy who sees me naked on a regular basis, but it wasn't just NAKED, y'know?  It involved a tape measure.  And numbers.  BIIIIIG numbers.  Eep!

I've heard/read numerous times that to get true, unbiased measurements, you really should have someone else taking them.  However, I'm all embarrassed and stuff (because, y'know, seeing me NAKED and all, Chebbar doesn't really know how large I am...  *eye roll*).  

So why did I finally suck up my pride and approach him, measuring tape in hand?  Well, I'm down another 1(.1) pound (yay!), but by *my* measurements, I was UP 2.5 inches.  Two point five!!!  O_O

Yeah.

Needless to say, my numbers were off.  Frighteningly enough, where I would have assumed I was underestimating my measurements, I was apparently overestimating: Chebbar's numbers had me down 5.25 inches (I did have to adjust the tape measure a few times and explain that it's not supposed to be pulled so tight that my skin is bulging out top and bottom... hehe).  Now, I don't for a second think I lost that many inches in the past three weeks (oh, yeah: I moved my weigh-in day, why I don't know - it seemed like a good idea at the time... ).  I'm sure I lost *something*, but I'd bet my car that this considerably large number is a result of sloppy measuring in the past.  While it will probably remain mortifying (especially if, god forbid, the numbers DO go up), I will probably make this Chebbar's new job going forward.  I don't trust myself with the tape measure at this point.

This past week was MUCH better exercise-wise: we walked five of seven days, and day five involved a 4km walk by the river in the sun.  It was lovely!  

I did end up in the ER on Saturday night because I was in pain again - sharp, shooting pains on my right side. I was worried because I had no idea if it was my appendix or something.  We were extremely lucky and it wasn't busy at all: we were signed in and in a "room" within 20 minutes.  The doctor did another pelvic exam (the first one by a male doctor - THAT was fun) and declared that he didn't think it was the cyst causing the trouble.  He ordered blood work (which took the, uh, what do you call 'em... crap!  Vampire?  HA!  two tries in each arm to actually get a vein - they're stubborn like me) and we had to wait for that.  When it came back, he said he was wondering if I have a gallstone.  He gave me a requisition for another ultrasound for this week and sent us home.  I still haven't heard from the imaging department about an appointment, so I'm supposed to call after 11am (20 more minutes).

I'm now in the really strange place of HOPING it's a gallstone just so that I'll have a damned answer.  I'm so tired of this.  I'm still not feeling 100%, making this month the longest run of symptoms at 13 days.  I do know that if this ultrasound doesn't show anything, I'll be marching back into my doctor's office and demanding a referral to a specialist: no more of this "add more fiber to your diet!" bullshit - it hasn't worked for the past two months, so let's try something ELSE, mm'kay?

Super Kawaii!

Over at the other blog today, I was explaining where our online names came from.  "Chibi" is a Japanese word meaning "short person" or "small child" that has also gained popularity with manga and anime fans (which is where I'm sure 97% of my Google search hits for A Case of the Gimme-Gimmes (aka Chibi Wants) come from).  When I think "chibi," I don't think manga or anime: I think kawaii.  So, in honour of all things cute, lovable, and adorable, I give you Super Kawaii!

Bear Cup and Spoon $21.38

This ceramic set from Cute Like Cherries reminds me more of a fox than a bear, but it's still cute.

Domokun Journal $13.76

I've been obsessed with Domo since I first saw one on Twitter.  No, seriously: I'm tempted to get a damned passport already just so I can travel across the border to Target to buy one.  Probably easier to just order this from Chicki.

Twinkle POP 8x10 Print $12

I imagine the pink popsicle to look like I do when I have a headache - the cracking skull, the tightly squinched eyes...  (From Dokkirii)

Pirate Bunny Hat $25

Pirate bunny hat?  Yes, please!  (From Cute Plush)

Also, I'd like to give a special shout out to my dear, darling friend RhodaB.  She surprised me with anonymous beaver mail last Thursday.  Thank you, dollface.  <3

What's in a name?

The lovely ynotkissme asked yesterday where the names "Chibi" and "Chebbar" came from, saying she secretly hoped they were our real names.  Sadly, they aren't (nor is "Jeebs" our last name... heh).  Also sadly, there isn't a really great story behind them, either.

Two jobs ago, I worked with a guy who thought he was funny liked to bastardize turn people's names into nicknames.  Somehow - to this day, I don't know *how* - Chebbar's name morphed into Tree Boy, which turned into Trebor (like the candy).  Chebbar and I are also fans of LOLcat-speak.  Yes, we "speak" it to each other (and sometimes to poor, unsuspecting people who have NO CLUE what we're talking about when we slip up and forget); yes, we always understand each other;  and yes, it always makes us laugh.  Shut up.

We were lolling (not to be confused with LOLing) around one Caturday Saturday trying to decide what to have for lunch when inspiration struck: grilled cheese!  No, grilled CHEEBS!  With cheddar cheebs!  No, no: CHEBBAR CHEEBS!!1!one!

Yeah, rocket surgeons we are not.

So, Trebor turned into Chebbar and somehow cheebs turned into Jeebs.  And Chibi?  Well, "chibi" is just a Japanese word meaning "short person" or "small child" (and let me TELL you that the short jokes ABOUNNNNND where I am concerned, especially when Chebbar and Greg get together).  It has also gained popularity with manga and anime fans (which is where I'm sure 97% of my Google search hits for A Case of the Gimme-Gimmes (aka Chibi Wants) come from).

Told you it wasn't a really great story.

Oh!  In other news, I'm sad (*snerk*) to report that it was confirmed this weekend that there will be no Baby Megatron Harry Wilford Brimley Richard Willie [Jeebs] in the next nine months.  So there, Miss Troublemaker Grace.  ;)

Ten Thousand Villages

Are you familiar with Ten Thousand Villages?  From their website,

"Ten Thousand Villages provides vital, fair income to Third World people by marketing their handicrafts and telling their stories in North America. Ten Thousand Villages works with artisans who would otherwise be unemployed or underemployed. This income helps pay for food, education, health care and housing."

They showcase gorgeous, handmade items from artisans from developing countries at amazing prices.  They pay the artists upfront for the product before it is shipped to Canada and the States, so there's no worry of items not being sold and artists not being paid.  There is an awesome range of food, jewellery, household, and personal care items - you could find something for everyone here.

"Embracing Couple" Soapstone Sculpture $18

I love the simplicity of this statue (although it kind of reminds me of more of a mother/daughter sculpture).

Shesham Wood Game Box $46

So cool!  This gorgeous box comes with a deck of cards, dominos, 5 dice, a pad of paper, and a pencil. 

Dragonfly Paperweight $7

Yes, this is "just" a rock, but the process used to create the dragonflies is fabulous - the wings look like they're moving!

Carved Stone Candleholder $25

I love the colours, I love the intricacy of the carving, I love the swirls.  I just love it.

Oh, and here's the link to the US site, just in case you're interested...  *evil grin*

I need a reality check

No, really, please: if I'm being a Chicken Little-hypochondriac, please tell me.

I've been having more twinge-y pains for the better (worse?) part of a week, but now on my right side; this coupled with the confirmation that I do have a small cyst on my left ovary made me wonder how long I was expected to let this go on (never mind what the solution is), so I called the doctor's office yesterday to make an appointment.  Because it was already late in the week, I was worried I wouldn't even be able to get in next week (she only works 2.5 days/week, and only until the end of the day on Thursdays: because I commute, I need the latest appointment of the day so I'm not missing too much work).  Imagine my surprise when the receptionist (NOT the bitchtastic one I've mentioned on Twitter) told me they had an opening for 4:40!

After waiting 40 minutes (50 if you count the 10 minutes that were a result of my early arrival), I was rushed (as usual) through.  (The last appointment of the day?  Sucks.  Alllll of the back-ups from the day come to a spectacular head (resulting in lengthy waits), and I'm always worried they're going to forget about me and lock me in in their haste to get out the door.)  She poked and prodded my belly, assuring me that the lower pains were NOT my ovary (too high up, apparently).  She told me that she could feel bloating in my intestine(s) where I mentioned pain and declared that I needed more fiber and to drink more water because it seemed like I was a little "backed up."

I told her that I've been taking Benefiber since she suggested it in January, on top of what I get in my diet (any bread we eat is whole grain (never mind bran muffins, Raisin Bran, and oatmeal), and I get 4-6 servings of fruit/vegetables every day).  I told her that I drink 8 glasses of water a day on top of the three cups of tea I drink.

Really?  Huh.  You should add FLAX SEED to your diet!!1!one!  Besides, it's not like you're at risk for colon cancer...

Let that sink in for a minute...


So, the fact that my grandfather died from misdiagnosed colon cancer last October doesn't increase my risk any?  Which, by the way, was the impetus for you doing a coloscreen stool sample?  Reeeeeally.

She told me to add flax to my diet.  If I'm not in pain, I'm in a constant state of bloated, gassy, twinge-y discomfort.  I'm NOT constipated.  I drink plenty of fluids.  I get a minimum of 25g of fiber per day.  I don't eat (a lot of) garbage.  I *try* to exercise regularly, but feeling every step I take kinda puts a damper on the whole motivation thing.  But just add flax to my diet.  I asked her how long I was supposed to try that for, how much longer this would go on for before trying - god, I don't even KNOW what.

Give it a month.

Oh, so SIX MONTHS of this.  Okay!  No problem!  (And it really wasn't a big deal while I was there and I wasn't in pain.)

However, after dinner, it started again: a sharp, stabby pain on my right side below my rib cage that happened every 15-20 minutes and carried on for FOUR HOURS until I finally fell asleep.  Advil does not help.  Gas-X does not help.  I didn't try Pepto last night, but somehow I doubt taking that long-term will be great for me, either.

Chebbar questioned the legitimacy of a - what? intestinal blockage? - being "no big deal."  In BC, I can't just go to another doctor for a second opinion.  Well, I can go to a walk-in clinic, but they don't have access to my medical records, nor do they have the time to listen to my history (not that MY doctor does either *eye roll*).  I can't go to a specialist without a referral.  I feel like a tool that I didn't demand... something (what, I don't know) yesterday.  I'm frustrated.  I'm tired of this.  I'm exhausted because I'm not sleeping well because I worry about this.  I don't want to be uncomfortable and in pain any more.  I hate NOT KNOWING.  I'm going to my unhappy place and imagining the worst.

My paternal grandfather died from colon cancer.
My maternal great aunt died from pancreatic cancer.
My maternal great grandfather had bowel cancer.
My maternal grandmother has colitis.
7 of the 8 women in my mom's family have had to have hysterectomies for one reason or another.

Am I blowing things out of proportion in thinking it's a little careless to tell me to take more fiber when this has already been going on for 5 months?  Is it ridiculous for me to worry that it's something bigger and scarier than my intestines being "sluggish"?  I just don't know anymore.

It DOES feel good to pay less

Ah, Payless.  You suck me in with your commercials featuring super! cute! shoes and purses at super! cheap! prices and promises of BOGOs.  Alas, when I make the trek to the mall and battle for parking supremacy, I enter your store (DAMN that chime is annoying!) to find that oh, you don't HAVE those particular shoes in stock.  Or, at the very least, they're sold out in my size.  In a fit of sheer brilliance, I turn once again to my beloved intarwebz for online shopping.  Woo!

Minicci "Jupiter" Satchel in Blue $24.99 $19.99

I was really digging the mustard colour of this purse, but let's face it: I play it safe.  I would definitely be comfortable toting around this lovely blue purse.  I've had a few Minicci purses from Payless and have never been disappointed in the quality.  Plus?  $20?  SCORE.

Minicci "Gilmore" Cross-Body Bag in Green $19.99 $14.99

My current purse (which I love so much I haven't even thought about switching it out since I got it more than a year ago) is close to this shade of green.  Sadly, I unwittingly tattooed it with my damned pen and I'm not sure how to get ink out of pleather.  As well, I have this pesky shoulder injury that won't go away, and it's exacerbated by slinging my purse over said shoulder (and before you even say it, I *can't* wear it on the other shoulder: it just feels WRONG, okay?).  I've been thinking a messenger bag-style might be a decent compromise: I can wear the purse's weight on my left shoulder and still have access on my right.  Hmm...

Dexter "Camilla" Flower Ballet in Cream $22.99 $19.99

I love flats.  As a 5'2 shrimp boat, I know I'm not "supposed" to, but I do: suck it.  (Besides, I've yet to meet anyone with the propensity of falling OFF her shoes as I have.)  I'm sure these would get me laughed right out of the *cough*construction*cough* office, but I don't care.

American Eagle "Sarafina" Plaid Wedge $24.99 $19.99

I love these.  LOVE.  I've been coveting a pair of cork-soled wedges forevah.  I love the colours in these ones and the metal detailing.  Sadly, as mentioned above, I'd likely fall off of them and bust an ankle.  Or two.  *sad pants*

Do you want to know what's even MORE sad pants?  Payless doesn't deliver to Canada.  *weeps*  *kicks dirt*

GTT: Punishment

This week's topic is punishment: what you endured, what you hated, and what you would/do use now.  I wasn't going to play since we don't have children, but, well, I'm running dry on blog topics lately...  ;)

Growing up, Mom relied on stern "talking tos" - hour-long sessions of her yelling while she berated me for my latest infraction as I stood silently shifting my weight from one foot to the other, alternately trying to hold back the tears and the righteous indignation that bubbled so close to the surface.  I don't know what would have happened if I spoke up to her/talked back/defended myself because, to this day, I'm still too afraid to open my mouth.  (Rather pathetic to be 32 and still "afraid" of your Mommy, no?)

The flip side to the lectures was the silent treatment.  Mom's MO of choice when she's pissed off about lord knows what is to just not speak to you until she's good and over it.  Oh, and to really drive home the point?  She makes sure she's sweet as spun sugar to evvvvveryone around you.  I regularly went a week without getting more than the bare minimum of words out of her.  In the beginning, I'd try to be the best me I could, almost performing in my quest to be the most pleasant and helpful person on the face of the planet.  I would try to chatter pleasantly about my day, ask her questions, tell her jokes, ANYTHING to get her to speak to me.  Rarely worked.  I'd get grunted, one-word replies while she studiously avoided my gaze before going on to cheerfully speak to one of my siblings.

As time went on, I grew... resentful of the bullshit.  I started ignoring her right back, all the while going out of my way to Super! Sickeningly! Sweet! to everyone else.  When I wasn't ignoring her, I was making snarky comments in an attempt to bait her into talking to me (never worked).  The few times I managed to muster up the courage to ask why she was mad at me never panned out (hence my abject fear of doing it to this day with anyone else).  There was never a discussion: she never told me what grievous sin I had committed, which left me completely powerless to apologize/explain/ensure I didn't do it again (hence my overwhelming frustration with people who don't care enough to tell me what I've done to upset them).  I have HUGE issues with communication, anger, and the silent treatment (ask poor Chebbar).

But see, my HUGE issues are a direct result of her HUGE issues: if you read the first few entries of The Story, you'll get an idea of what she went through.  I can count on one hand the number of times I remember being spanked and still have fingers left over.  To this day, she can't own a wooden spoon (and because there was never one in the house when I grew up, I don't own one either - not a conscious decision, just one of those things).

Chebbar grew up in a house where both parents worked full-time and Mom tried to keep it together because Dad drank too much.  Punishment was meted out in an all-or-nothing fashion (read: if one of the kids was in trouble, they ALL got punished).  That being said, I've never heard Chebbar talk about being struck: his parents punished by sending them to their rooms and taking away privileges.

We haven't really talked about *how* we'd punish because, hell, we don't really talk about children much at all at this point (other than the best form of birth control and holy shit would that be BAD timing right now).  We've discussed at length how fucked up some aspects of my childhood have left me, sometimes calmly, rationally, and with full agreement; other times with me feeling attacked, defensive, and leaving me baring my teeth (it's a very strange place to be when you agree with what the person is saying, yet feel compelled to defend your mother, to explain away her actions).

I do know that the silent treatment doesn't fly in our house.  Hell, I can't go more than 10 minutes without getting all up in Chebbar's grill demanding we "talk about this."  I do know that we do our best to communicate with each other.  I do know that we make an effort to clear the air and get some understanding. I do know that we go out of our way to ensure we don't use words as weapons.  

Trying to figure it out is a long process when you're undoing 28 years of, well, yeah.  Let's just say I have a clearer understanding of what I wouldn't do as opposed to what i would do.  But then, don't we all?

HYC: Week 11

Another week, another disappointment.  *sigh*  Too bad I have no one to blame but myself.  We walked a whopping three times last week  THREE.  That's all.  Not cool.  

We didn't walk last Sunday because we were "relaxing" that day.  We didn't walk Tuesday because Chebbar hadn't slept well the night before and just wasn't feeling it (which apparently means I get a free pass to sit on my ass beside him?  Geez.).  Wednesday he gave ME the pass because I came home weepy and irrational and messy and I-don't-know-I-just-don't-feeeeel-RIGHT!  Saturday we didn't walk because we were swamped (he had a job fair to go to; we had grocery shopping to do and errands to run; and we were supposed to be at friends of ours by 7pm).  We didn't walk this Sunday because we were out of town visiting his family for the majority of the day.

HOWEVER.

There were pockets of time that we could have chosen to go for a half hour walk instead of trying to sneak in some "precious" computer time.  There were opportunities where I could have turned on Wii Fit or Just Dance, even if just for 15 minutes.

I chose not to.  And that bothers me.  (Yes, again/still.)

This is no longer okay.  I can make excuses and justify my lack of activity (i.e. my sore shoulder! or the cramp in my foot!), but that's bullshit.  On the off chance it will hurt, I give up before I even try.  I'm feeling apathetic as all get out lately, but not so much that this doesn't matter.  I don't like being perpetually sore and achy, and I know that being active will likely help that.  Plus, the built-in energy boost won't hurt either (never mind the mental boost to the old self-esteem).

Now, to find the gumption to just start already.  Again.

(I got a call from my doctor yesterday (which scared the ever-loving hell out of me when I saw the number on caller ID: they only phone if it's BAD news).  The ultrasound results finally came back and I do have a "small" cyst on my left ovary, but "everything looks normal."  Basically she's sticking with a wait-and-see approach. 

After I got off the phone, I thought so long and hard about whether it would by *my* left or hers (no, seriously: I had such a massive brain fart that making L's out of my thumbs and fingers didn't work - I actually had to PICK UP MY PEN to figure out which was my right side.  *head desk*), I had to call the office back to ask (it's MY left).  The receptionist then mentioned that she'd had one that was awful because it caused random pain alllll over the place, not just the ovary/side it was on.  Huh.  Y'don't say.  That would explain a lot!  Needless to say, I was relieved to hear that.)

Crisis: averted

And thank the Baby Jeebus for that.

Saturday night we went to Greg & Dawn's for a visit.  Chebbar thoroughly wore Wyatt out (who, at one, point "slipped" and started to call him "Uncl... I mean, Chebbar."  Twas cute.).  We played cards for awhile and ended up getting home around 12:30am.  We set the clocks ahead before going to bed, so it was magically 1:30.  Because I haven't been sleeping well and we had a lot to do Sunday, I decided to start in the office so I would hopefully get to sleep quickly.  

After tucking Chebbar in and making my way to the office, it was around 2am.  I was reading for a bit to wind down, when I heard a fire alarm.  I assumed it was the building next to us (in the 3.5 years I've lived in the building, the fire alarm has never gone off (well, at least not when I've been at home), but has gone off at least half a dozen times next door).  I honestly don't know what/why/how, but all of a sudden I realized it was the fire alarm in OUR building.

I flew out of bed, into the hallway, and flicked on the bedroom light (scaring the crap out of poor Chebbar in the process), yelling that the fire alarm was going off.  He didn't believe me at first.  While he looked out the window to see if he could spot smoke, I ran to the door and flung it open to see if there was smoke in the hallway (yes, I checked the door knob for heat first): not only was there no smoke in the hallway, there were no PEOPLE, either.

We quickly threw on sweats; grabbed wallets, phones, and keys; and left.  It was weird.  I was shaky-jittery, my heart was racing a mile a minute, and I couldn't focus on anything - my thoughts were all over the place.  I was looking around frantically, trying to figure out what - if anything - I should grab (what I wanted, what I needed).  I don't think I need to tell you how strong the urge to grab the damned laptop was...  hehe  As we ran down the stairs, I was torn between being freaked the fuck out, and trying not to cry over everything left inside (like mementos from my Great Grannie).  

When we got to the second floor landing, Chebbar checked the handle, opened the door, and started to walk through the second floor.  Again, no smoke and no people.  When we got down to the first floor, he turned to me and asked me to go outside and he'd meet me there.  I just looked at him like he was crazy and disregarded his request.  He opened the door to find the building handy man peering at the alarm pull with a flashlight: it appeared to be a false alarm.

We carried on down to the lobby where we met the snot nosed little punk who lives on the second floor.  The one who has had the police called on him numerous times.  The one who is continually in contravention of the bylaws with his partying and pot smoke wafting into the hallways and guests who damage common property.  He looked at us and went "It's okay!  Everything's okay!"  I turned to Chebbar and went "How the hell does he know 'it's okay!' unless he knows it was one of HIS asshole friends who pulled the fucking alarm?!?"  (Needless to say, having my heart trip-hammer at 2am because I think MY HOUSE IS GONNA BURN DOWN doesn't do much for my demeanor.)

Chebbar decided he wanted to walk around the perimeter of the building (I think he went into first aid attendant/safety officer mode) to see if he could... I dunno... play fireman?  By the time we got around the building, the fire department had arrived: they were there in less than five minutes (no sirens, though, so maybe someone called to let them know it was a false alarm?).

Out of 60+ units, there were maybe 24 people outside, and 6-8 of those were couples from the same unit.  There are a large number of seniors in the building: I'm not sure if they didn't hear the alarm or if there were mobility issues at play.  That freaked me out.

That alarm wasn't very loud: Chebbar didn't hear a thing, and I'm not sure *I* would have heard it if I had already been asleep (and I am a notoriously light sleeper).  That freaked me out.

While Chebbar was cool as a cucumber, I was shaking like a bloody chihuahua: I did not handle this emergency well.  Granted, it's not like I lost my ever-loving mind and had a sobbing melt down, but I feel like I should - could - have handled it more calmly.  That freaked me out, too.  I'm just glad it was a false alarm and everyone was okay.

Have you been through an emergency like this before?  How did you handle it?  Any tips or suggestions for not being such a baby (if there is a) next time?  (*knocks on wood*)

(When we finally got back upstairs around 3am, Chebbar put on his This Is Serious face and asked that next time he asks me to go outside and wait for him, that I do it because worrying about me isn't going to help him.  I pointed out that HE'S not a fireman/paramedic/rescue worker, and that *I* sure as hell wasn't going to walk away from him, that I'd be a freaking mess waiting "patiently" outside for him.  Never really DID resolve that particular conversation... )

I definitely need more T-shirts

Do you have a funny T-shirt or twelve?  Do you like funny, obscure, offensive, or a combination?  I think I need to start a collection, personally.

From Threadless $15

Hehehehehe.

From T-Shirt Hell $19

Ah, how liberating to be able to use that assumption against them...  *evil grin*  (If you're not familiar with T-Shirt Hell, please be forewarned: their shirts definitely fall under the "offensive" category.  I have a twisted sense of humour, so I find a lot of them rather funny in a completely irreverent way.)

"I'm Legal" from Nerdy Shirts $19.97

This one makes the office/stationary supply nerd in me very happy.

"I Think I Did" from Snorg Tees $18.95

I think the age-old question has finally been answered.  *snerk*

Zippity Do Da

For YEARS I battled with pants that suffered from Ziprectile Dysfunction (aka Crotch Flashitis, or Free Show Disorder).  Old pants, new pants, red pants, blue pants: it didn't matter.  I'd leave the washroom feeling a cold breeze far too close to my nether region.   Being a raging prude (no, seriously: quit laughing, dammit) modest young lady, I went to such lengths as buying that really skinny elastic, cramming it through the hole in the zipper pull, and knotting it so I could loop it around the button on the pants, thus rendering the zipper incapable of falling.

It was a gigantic pain in the ass.

(And for the record, NO I don't wear my pants four sizes too small: it's not *my* fault that the zippers fell, I swear.)

I was at work a few years ago bemoaning the damned zipper on the new damned pair of pants and proclaiming that I would take! them! back! when my supervisor looked at me and went, "You ARE locking it, right?"  Me:  o_O


Sensing my complete and utter confusion, she went on to patiently explain with DEMONSTRATION (with her hand too close to my lady bits for comfort) through guffaws of wild, pitying laughter that if you make sure the zipper pull is flipped down and pull it into place, it locks: the zipper won't slide down.  (This doesn't work on *all* zippers, but it's worked on 99% of the ones I've tried.)  


I was positively perturbed when I went home and DEMANDED to know why my mother hadn't thought to teach me this valuable lesson (see also: never told me that it's not a great idea to flush tampons, and a complete no-no with a septic tank).  She looked at me, puzzled, and told me that she thought EVERYONE knew how to lock a zipper. 


Obviously not, Mom.  Obviously not.


(Yes, I really WAS that upset that I had gone 27 years without this vital piece of information that it required a DRAMATIC CONFRONTATION.  Shut up.)

*cue cheesy music*

Randoms

Not quite sure how I'll link these items, but I'll try.  *pushes up sleeves*

Ninja Bot $14

I love everything in boltsandbots's Etsy shop.  Seriously: I want one of everything.  Ninja Bot is particularly heart-stealing, especially because I think it would fit nicely in the pocket of...

Women's Deeper Zip Hoodie $179

...this gorgeous hoody from Morphic's Etsy shop, which I will put on after hopping out of bed onto this...

Pebble Mat $44.95

...chilly, but awesome-feeling pebble mat.  I will then go down to the kitchen where I will...

Indoor Swing from The Style Files

...go for a ride on my lovely indoor swing.  (Okay, this is less of a "buy" and more of an inspirational idea: sue me.)  I cannot begin to tell you how happy this makes the little girl in me!

GTT: It's What's For Dinner

Not really, obviously.  This week's Girl Talk Thursday topic is the $10 dinner challenge: what would you cook for under $10?  

Up until recently, I've been extremely lucky in that I haven't really had to give the cost of a meal much thought - I made a list of what I needed from my meal plan, we went grocery shopping, paid the cashier, and that was that.  Now we're both a little more aware of the actual cost of the food we're putting in the grocery cart.  Most items aren't that bad: we shop at a discount grocery store, so costs aren't as prohibitive as, say, Safeway.  (As an aside, it's the impulse buys that kill us.  STICK TO YOUR LISTS, PEOPLE!)

Since he's been off work, Chebbar has been doing the majority of the cooking during the week, so it took a little effort (read: going through my Google Calendar to see what's been on the roster for the last few weeks and picking through the attached recipe links.  Yes, I'm a little OCD.  So?) to find something that didn't *cough*come from a box in the freezer*cough* (read: how *I* cook on the weekends... hehe).  I give you Slow Cooker Beef Stroganoff.

1 lb. (500 g) cubed stewing beef - we buy this on sale for $4.00 max

1 cup  chopped onions (about 1 small) - $0.50

1 cup chopped mushrooms (about 5 medium) - we skip these because *someone* has a mushroom aversion (not me)

1/2 cup  beef broth - $1.00

1/2 cup (1/2 of 250-g tub) Herb & Garlic Cream Cheese Spread - we buy this on sale for $2.50

1 Tbsp.  flour - already in the pantry

225 g (1/4 of 900-g pkg.) fettuccine, cooked, drained - we usually use egg noodles at $2.00 a bag

*     *     *

• Mix meat, onions, and mushrooms in slow cooker.
• Add broth; stir. Cover. Cook on LOW for 6 to 8 hours (or on HIGH for 3 to 4 hours).
• Combine cream cheese spread and flour. Add to meat mixture just before serving; stir until cream cheese is completely melted and mixture is well-blended. Add to hot pasta; toss to coat.      

*Note: we find it difficult to combine the cream cheese and flour, so we stir in the flour, then add the cream cheese about half an hour before serving so it has time to melt.

This makes four generous servings, so you're looking at $2.50 per serving.  Not bad for a hot meal!  

I'm feeling spendy...

...actually, I'm feeling rather blah and I'm trying desperately to not fall asleep at my desk, so I thought I'd wander through some of the shops I have favourited Etsy.

Preview

Branch Pendant $80

I love the simplicity of Ingrid Montoya's brushed sterling silver pendent.

Tall Lovebirdies Vase $68

My grandmother had one of those... wannabe-ish vintage royal blue Chinese vases onto which she glued a ceramic bird duo tchotchke that had busted off of something else.  It was a strange combination to say the least, but I was oddly enamored with the happy little birds.  Christine Tenenholtz captures those little birds in this much more visually appealing vase.

"Always Kiss Me Goodnight" Custom Sign $115

I love the sentiment behind this saying.  I also love Back 40 Life's interpretation - the colour and font combinations are great.  

Orange Blooms Scoop Neck Top $30

Love, love, love the poppies on this T-shirt!  This is a pen and ink drawing by Circular Accessories that she screen printed on the shirt by hand.  Lots of lovely stuff in her shop!

When you've got no one to tell them to

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five


After threatening to run away if one more brother was brought into my life, I was over the moon when Taylor was born exactly ten days before my tenth birthday.  "She's my early birthday present," I proudly told everyone who would listen. Things were... rough at home in a way I didn't comprehend at the time.  Mom struggled a lot, especially when Taylor couldn't be soothed - lord knows she didn't get much help from Dad.

Due to a promotion that brought with it a transfer, a year later we moved back to the miserable hole of a town where I was born.  This was the same town The Donor lived.  New town, new house, new school, new parent to spend weekends with.  Oh, yes: I had to go over there every other weekend, and even at 11 I knew that the only reason he *demanded* visitation was because he had papers stating he had the RIGHT to access.  That was one messed up household, with an adopted brother who no longer beat on me, but was still strange; a half-brother who was failing kindergarten; and a "father" who diligently worked his way to the bottom of a bottle far too regularly (I don't remember if it was every day, but I do know I was aware of the regularity with which he drank).

It wasn't all bad.  He taught me how to bake a pie (with pastry from scratch).  He introduced me to a mess of family I didn't really remember from when I was younger.  He gave me the gift of time with my grandparents.  He took us hiking around the marshes and backwoods where he played as a child, something I never would have seen at home.  He gave me a lot of freedom, too: playing outside after dark; weekend-long sleepovers with friends; being left at the mall sans adult supervision.

At home, I had an unhappy mother who was isolated (no, seriously: Dad would give her $150 to buy two weeks worth of groceries for five people, one of which was a baby in diapers and on formula, and didn't increase the amount for dog food when he brought home two dogs - oh, and don't forget his precious cigars, hey?; she had no ATM card, no credit card, and no cheque book - hell, her NAME wasn't even on the bank account), and a father who liked to stay out late "drinking" (he'd come home at 4am: all the bars closed up shop at 11pm - but, noooo! he wasn't cheating on her! (That particular claim was blown out of the water when the office receptionist got a transfer to the town we moved back to after Mom and Dad split up - she FOLLOWED him here, but they weren't having an affair!)).  It was ugly.  I'd lay awake waiting for him to come home and then listen to them fight.

Mom started planning and preparing to leave.  I guess because she felt so isolated, I became her confidante at the age of 12: I likely knew far more than I should have.  She started tightening the grocery budget and setting aside any amount she could scrimp away; she would forgo buying us new clothes with the monthly child allowance cheques to build up a bit of a nest egg; she would buy cheap beach towels when they'd go on sale and hide them in with the winter clothes.  I don't really remember the day she told Dad that she was taking us and moving back here.

I do remember an end of the year/going away party in our huge backyard with all of my friends.  I do remember feeling conflicted saying goodbye to the other side of my family that I had just started to get to know.  I do remember looking at our house through the back window of the car as the four of us drove away.  Those two years saw far more memories solidify in my mind: I can remember so much more from that time for some reason - nothing significant, just more and more clearly.