January 2011




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Dec. 15th, 2008

Still Injured...

My whole foot is swollen. From my heel to my toes, the damn thing is swollen. Which is really annoying. I've been keeping it bound (with an ace bandage instead of that circulation-eliminating elastic strap the doctor gave me...I'd like to keep my toes, thanks) and elevated, icing it and taking the anti-inflammatories (and the pain pills). But it's still swollen--more so than it was when I actually sprained it. Also, parts of it are turning that deep, black-ish purple serious bruise color while others are just blue and a few others are just red. Have I mentioned I find this very annoying?

On the upside, I've been able to eliminate one of the crutches (which probably has something to do with the extra swelling, I know...). Also, pain pills. I'm very happy to have those. They make the hobbling around (and after-effects of hobbling around) manageable.

In other news, we have a Christmas tree! It's all pretty and decorated. But I didn't get to decorate it (*pouts*) because of the sprained ankle. So far, the pets have been good and haven't knocked over the tree. I mean, they've been chewing on the lower (empty) branches, which we discourage, but nothing else. Here's hoping that pattern holds.

Dec. 14th, 2008

I'm injured (again)

I sprained my ankle Friday afternoon. Well, technically speaking, it was a joint effort between me and Faylinn (my cute, new, puppy-dog). She's a bit rambunctious (as I've mentioned) and loves playing the backyard. Well, I'd taken her out back to play and do her business.

A little scene description is in order here. Our backyard is sort of sloping (the neighborhood we live in is a little cul-de-sac that slopes downward from the street it comes off of, and our house is near the bottom, but not in the circle part of the cul-de-sac). It also has a retaining wall in it, so part of the backyard is set a bit higher than the rest (though it does eventually even out on one side of our yard). On that retaining wall are some very attractive stone steps with some nice wrought iron(ish) railing. The steps are big enough for two people to walk down side-by-side (though not necessarily comfortably, depending on their sizes).

With all that said, Faylinn and I were on our way inside. I was using the steps, so she was using the steps. On the last step, I was stepping down and she bumped into me. Now, I have pretty bad ankles (lots of twisting and spraining and tearing tendons from bones have occurred in the past--I'm a klutzy person now and I was a tom-boy when I was a kid). So any little push in the wrong direction while I'm stepping and my ankles give the wrong way. Which is what happened. Faylinn pushed into me and my ankle gave inward and there was this painful, rather loud pop.

I'm glad I'd taken my cell phone outside with me because I called my mom to come and get me (and take me to the doctor). Because it's my right ankle that I've sprained this time and I can't drive without using that foot. So, she comes home, I've had ice on my ankle while I waited for her to get there (about 20 minutes). It's all swollen, but not just entirely black-and-blue (more like a sickly pastel blue and some magenta--I don't bruise very easily; I've broken bones and not really bruised any).

A few x-rays and a doctor visit later (where he tells me it's not broken, just sprained), I'm home with my ankle wrapped up and elevated. Also, I can't use it to walk on (it hurts waaay too much). So, I'm now hobbling around on crutches whenever I get up. The only upside to this whole ordeal are the nice pain killers I'm on--which are probably making me a little less-than-entirely-coherent, but are also taking the pain in my ankle away.

Nov. 26th, 2008


We have a new dog. She's the sweetest thing, really. She's just incredibly hyper. And she wants attention all the time. Even though I knew dogs are naturally like that, I'd gotten used to first, Max being old and too enfeebled to run around and then, after Max had passed, not having anything more hyper than cats (which, while they are sometimes hyper, they aren't 60 lbs and hyper all the time...). We (my parents and I) guess that she's about a year old (give or take) because she's had at least one litter of puppies. And that litter was a small litter (only 3 puppies), so we think that was her first litter. Anyway, her name is Faylinn and, while she's so sweet and loving and cuddly, she's also jumping about like a puppy. And messing with the cats' toys instead of her own.

You know, aside from mentioning Faylinn and her serious hyperness, I don't really remember why I decided to post today. I'm blaming that on the fever that I probably have (but am to lazy to check for). Fevers (and colds, actually) fry my brain to mush.

Here's a pic of her: right here )

Dec. 22nd, 2007


We had to put Max to sleep today. He was close to 18 years old and didn't have any cartilage in his hips or back leg joints. And it was getting to where he couldn't hardly walk at all. So it's really better off for him. It's just hard, you know?

And Theseus, our youngest (I'd say little, but he's a fairly large cat) kitty, was really close with Max (Max used to lick him when Theseus would rub up against him). He's been wandering around looking for Max. Zephyr (our oldest cat, also fairly large, but not quite so large as Theseus) is moping around a little. He and Max weren't really close; they had a love-hate relationship. Zephyr used to pop Max whenever he'd walk by the coffee table and Zephyr was sitting on it. Max would growl at him, and occasionally snap at him. But I know that they didn't hate each other really, because, if they did, they wouldn't have been able to coexist as generally well as they did. Ginerva, my sweet, smart, calico girl-kitty, knew something was wrong when Mom and Dad came back from the vet's without Max. She had this betrayed, sad look in her eyes. She and Max weren't really close either, but I know she'll miss him--probably about the same as Zephyr will miss Max.

Dec. 11th, 2007


[info]friend_me has 50 members! Whee! I am probably waaay too excited about this, but I really don't care.

On another, less nice note; my pets are evil. Because they cannot knock down the tree, they decided to pull down a string of lights and tear up the (thankfully cheap) round, plastic table cloth-cum-tree skirt (we didn't put our pretty, old, velvet one out because Max went on a peeing spree last year...I shouldn't be too upset with him; he's a miniature lab--who weighs about 65 lbs.--who is about 15 or 16 years old and rather senile...he can't really help all the crazy stuff he does...). But I won't let that rain on my parade (anymore, that is; I was in a towering rage over it because I already was supposed to clean the living room because we have company coming over after my parents get off work...I refuse to use the ancient, uber-exhausty vacuum, though).

Still, I'm really excited about [info]friend_me. *happydance*

Dec. 6th, 2007


Tethered Tree pwns feline/canine intervention!

That is all.

Dec. 5th, 2007

*dramatic sigh*

Woke up this morning, walked out into the living room and, lo and behold, the cats (or max, our old and senile "miniature" lab) had knocked the Christmas tree down for a third time. I talked to my parents last night about securing it to the wall. Mom vetoed. Dad came up with the idea to suspend it from the ceiling. I think the suspended tree might look nice, but Mom, again, says no. I'm bringing it up with them again tonight, because I'm getting sick of having to pick the damn thing up before I've had my instant breakfast. I'll be all different kinds of ecstatic tomorrow if I wake to a vertical tree.

In other news, I finally withdrew from my classes (today was the last day to do it). Part of me hates the idea of being a college drop-out, but the other part of me is like "DUDE! It was driving you totally, climbing up the walls batshit." Mostly, I agree with voice no. 2. (Not actual voices, mind you, I'm not that crazy...also schizophrenia is a lot more rare than Law and Order would have us believe...) I'm still in the process of finding a job that won't drive me crazy/make me feel like shit.

I'm doing laundry right now (well not, right now right now, but, you know, the washer is going and the dryer just stopped) in order to butter up the parents into agreeing with me on the tree. If I wanted to be more blatant about it, I could make them coffee before they get home.

As an aside, in my house--household, that is--coffee is not just an every-now-and-then or every morning thing; it's an all day, every day thing. Mom and Dad wake up with coffee, they come home and relax with coffee until about, oh, say, 7:00 or 8:00 pm. There's always a pot of coffee going on the weekends. I think I had coffee before all my friends did--I was, I believe, 8. I've been drinking it (and cokes) for a long time. I have a huge tolerance for caffeine. Upside? I can have two or three mochas and not be obnoxiously hyper. Downside? I have to have two of those Starbucks Doubleshot thingies in order to wake me up when I haven't had enough sleep and still need to function.

Dec. 3rd, 2007

*is tired*

I woke up to find that the pets had knocked over the Christmas tree. Can I just say now how glad I am that it wasn't decorated when it fell? Because a lot of the decorations that we have were gifts from my grandparents (my mom's parents, who are both dead). In fact, my grandma used to do something really neat for the grandkids (me and my three cousins). When we were babies, she started buying us an ornament every year so that, by the time we left home, we'd have enough ornaments for a small tree of our own. She gave me angels (I'll take pictures when we get the decorations down from the attic), my oldest cousin Jackie got rocking horses, my older cousin Jared got cars, and I really don't remember what my younger cousin Jillie got. (If you're wondering about the ages of us grandkids, Jackie is the oldest at 26, Jared is the second oldest at 22, I'm 21, and Jillie is 17--but will be 18 on the 5th.)