Doxie Proxy

Ecclesiastes III

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

This verse has been running through my head a lot today. We were approved for the new house (to rent), and thanks wholly to having a very good friend grease the wheels within the company we’re renting from, we’ve been saved a good bit on fees. N, you’re a doll. The house is just beautiful. It was the home Mister and I have been looking for all along, and he said tonight that it was 95% of what we’ve been looking for. We pick up the keys and start to move in tomorrow afternoon. Thank you, God. And N. And K. And to the (insert ugly words) who neglected to tell us they didn’t have a clear title to the house we were buying, and then refused to let us out of our contract, (insert more ugly words). This place is much sweeter!

Tags: friends, moving, thankful

This is me, not squealing. (Much)

Today turned out to be pretty happenin’, after all. We have a beloved friend who helped us find a great rental property, and I’ve filled out the application tonight. We went to look at it this afternoon, and I am so in love with the place. It has a huge, magnificent fenced-in yard, and a 2 car garage, and everything else in the house is damned near perfect,with the except of the master BR closet. I’m not particular about that, and it gives me much more incentive to purge unwanted clothes. Please, God.. let me be moving my happy behind out of this house, and in to that one this weekend.

Granny’s doing much better. They moved her out of ICU today, and into a regular room. She’s off the oxygen, walking on her own, and eating well. Thank you, Lord. Whew.

My pooch continues to improve, and she’s almost all the way back to her full dorky capacity. You gotta love a dog with 3-inch legs, y’know?

Reading: Psychomech trilogy, by Brian Lumley (and an All You magazine)
Listening to: My husband play the Tabula Rasa beta we picked up at GenCon
Hoping: The moving estimate isn’t outrageous.
Dreaming: of a living room suit, since we have a big-arse TV, and that’s it!

Tags: pets

A New Day

I just finished watching The Fountain. An interesting, visually gorgeous movie. I was somewhat confused about the ending, and I seriously thought thought Captain Arial was Taj from Van Wilder, but turned out it was Cliff Curtis. Who knew?

My pooch is doing much, much better, thank God. Unfortunately, along with the Prednisone-induced side effects of increased hunger and thirst (leading to increased episodes of Mister and I walking her at all hours of the night), she also has bouts of restlessness (also due to the Prednisone). Needless to say, we’ve had precious little sleep o’er the last week. All in all, we’re completely fine with that, because the sweet pup is doing loads better. For several days, she couldn’t even lift her head, and was all “stove up” (borrowing the term from my beloved MawMaw), as well as limping. NSAIDs didn’t touch the problem (back problems), so off to steroid-land it is, replete with the multitude of side effects, including the aforementioned huge increase in eating, drinking, #1′ing, #2′ing, and “Hey! It’s 4am! Are you up, Mom? Huh? Huh? Are ya? Maybe if I stare at you long enough, you’ll wake up! Hey, what if I put my cold-as-ice nose on your cheek - will you wake up then?” I am forever grateful to my wonderful veterinarian. I’m grateful to all vets, actually, or anyone that cares for animals. When I head to the doc, I don’t necessarily know that she became a physician because she loves people. However, when I take my pets to my vet, I feel like she did, indeed, become a vet because she loves animals. Not a slam on docs, cause God bless ‘em for all they put up with in this litigious society chock-full of whiners demanding instant gratification, but - I love my vet(s). My sweet baby can walk now, and as I type, she’s hanging her head out of her dog bed, with her forehead flat on the ground. Why she loves that position, I can’t begin to say, but she does. That’s flexibility for ya, folks. That’s also, probably, a chiropractor’s wet dream, but that’s another story.

We took two loads of boxes to the storage unit, today. As before, we are in a deep vat of poo, known as “Dunno where we’re going to live, very soon.” I’m not too worried, as, if all else fails, we absolutely can stay where we are, until we find a place - but I.Really.Want.To.Leave.Here. The Mister does, too. We have a friend who works in realty, and he’s helping us out. There’s so much out there, rental-wise, and it’s like a freakin‘ jungle you have to cut through to find what you want. When I moved here to be with the Mister ten years ago, I remember we looked at apartments for two days straight, from 8AM until way after dark. We must have looked at 20 complexes, at least. At the end of it all, they were all running together. Oy vey, I just remembered our first apartment’s rent. $540/month. Le sigh. Those were the days. Now that I’m totally off track, I just remembered my first place’s rent. It was a fab two-bedroom townhouse, with a humongous kitchen. $375/month. Lordy, how times have changed. These days, it’s four times that, but it’s only money, right? (*choke*) Anyway, I hope to hear something either Monday or Tuesday of this week. Stay tuned, Sparky. In the meantime, we’re continuing to finish up the packing, and are determined to end each day with as much back, hip and knee pain as humanly possible, along with a side dish of dehydration due to the obscene humidity. (Really, God - 107° with a million percent humidity? How is that freakin‘ fair?)

Trying very hard to be more positive today, although this generally equates to humor or sarcasm. Between the house situation, the house-mate situation, a sucktastic type (not the people, just the type) of mgmt at work, my beloved dog being very ill for a week, my maternal grandfather being on Hospice, my paternal grandmother in ICU, with the family having already been called in - well, between all of these things, a few days ago, I thought I would lose my mind. Now, I’m thinking it’s going to be manageable. Maybe manageable’s not the word. Maybe more like acceptance than resignation. We are obviously going to find another place, and it will be fine, because we have each other (sappy, but it’s true). The pooch is better. My grandparents are not going to live forever. I will likely lose them both within the year. It hurts to know this, but I know that there are worse things than death, and one of them is lingering when you’re hurting, sick, tired and weak, with no end in sight. Let’s just say I’m OK with it right now. Hell, yes, I’m in denial. Anyway, the job bit sucks. It’s a situational matter, rather than being necessarily the fault of management. I’m not happy, but I’m good at what I do, and it pays the bills, with some left over for fun or nifty stuff like this.

I’m hoping to convince the Mister to go see The Invasion tonight. I generally like Nicole Kidman flicks. Plus, hey - Sci-Fi! What’s not to like?

I’ll be so glad when we get moved. I’ve put Netflix on hold, and I don’t want to re-up until I have our new address. Argh!

Reading: Nesting: It’s a Chick Thing
Watching: Night at the Museum (shortly)
Remembering: The miners, rescuers and their families.
Listening: Inspiration: Your Ultimate Calling

Tags: GenCon

*sigh*

Welllll, heck. I apparently suck at the daily journaling bit. Even if it is for me to remember the mundane moments of my life, I suppose I should make more of an effort.What’s happened recently:

• We just got back from GenCon, in Indianapolis. We’ve been attending since 2000, and I daresay this year just plain stunk. Definitely the worst con in all the ones we’ve gone to. Thanks, GC, for no LAN to speak of (eGaming? pfffft), other than the piece-of-crap one that closed when the dealer hall did. RAS wasn’t there this year, either. I don’t blame him, of course, but it was disappointing. The media guests weren’t all that, either. Who cares about the dorks on Who Wants to Be a Superhero? Stan Lee should be slapped repeatedly for putting yet another idiotic, brain-cell-sucking, screwed-up up reality show on TV. Feedback, and Fat Momma, and a couple of others - and get this! 10 dollars! Those folks wanted TEN dollars for an autograph! (OK, from what I saw, they were great with the kids, and FM was supposedly great in person, but still.. in the last few years, GC’s had stars on par with what you see in Dragon*Con. This was just a HUGE letdown.) On a nicer note, it was truly delightful to meet Hayden Panettiere, and to get her (free) autograph, and grab a couple of pics with her. That kid is gorgeous, y’all. She was every bit as beautiful as she looks on TV, and just as sweet as can be.
  
• Before we made it home from Indy, we found out (from my folks, who were watching the dogs for us), that my precious pup has hurt her back and neck again (long-spined dogs are prone to this), and we have gone through 2 vet visits, and have all kinds of medications for her. She’s currently doped up on a mild muscle relaxant and a pain med, and is laying, rather stoned, on her little dog bed. I wish beyond words that it were me hurting instead of her. Thankfully, the vet said she won’t have to have surgery just yet, but that it is a possibility in the future.
• We were supposed to be moving in to our new house this week, but the (insert very, very nasty words) who are selling it neglected to mention that it was being foreclosed on, and that they can’t afford what they are contractually obligated to bring to closing. So! My entire  house is nearly packed up, and we said we’d be out of this place by the end of August, and guess what? Nowhere to live! I’m so excited, I just can’t stand it. Stay tuned, Sparky.
  
• Someone who irritates the living heck out of me, and who happens to own the abode I currently reside in, is no longer employed, and has decided to sell this house. It’s their house, and their decision completely, but now they are packing up all their crap, that’s still in the house, at the same time that we’re trying to pack up all of our crap, and I’m spending the majority of every week with this wretch. Did I mention that they are moving back in? Yes, I’m feeling pissy right now. Negativity is oozing off me in visible black waves, my friend. Oozing, indeed. The sooner I see the last of this !@#$#$$ irritant, the better. I’m positive they feel the same about me, but I could give a flying fsck.
  
• I started typing fsck instead of the actual word about 10 years ago. Yes, it’s my favorite curse word. It’s just more natural for me to type fsck instead of the other, so that’s how I roll. I hate that it’s my favorite curse word, and I try not to use it, but sometimes, it just fits.
  
• I’m currently hating my job, due to a change in management. I adore - yes, adore - the people I work with, but our management is now in a different state, many hours away, and they are the most micromanaging sons-of-guns you can possibly imagine. Grrrrr! I had a fantastic, wonderfully perfect set of management folks! This sucks! (Step out of the way of the rolling black cloud, I tell ya. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.)
• I’m an only child, and my greatest fears are losing my parents, my pets, and my husband. I’m petrified of getting ‘the call’, and sometimes I am overwhelmed, near to the point of hysteria, at the thought of losing them. I find myself just sobbing, as if I’d already lost them. I’m already mourning them. This can’t be normal, can it? I’m terrified of not having them in my life anymore, and the thought of losing them just devastates me.
  
• It’s so freaking hot and humid here. 107 °F is NOT normal, y’all! This has got to end!

OK.. that didn’t help at all. Let me list a few positive things:

• My dog most likely doesn’t need surgery, and I feel much better that she’s on good medication, and under the care of a veterinarian I trust. It’s not at all that I didn’t trust my parent’s vet, it’s just that I know my vet, and they’ve taken excellent care of my pets.
• My parents are happy, and for the most part, healthy.
• I have a job, even if I don’t like it. I have excellent benefits, and bring in a good salary, doing something I am good at. I am routinely recognized by management as producing “stellar” work. (I have them fooled. Really.)
  
• My husband is my best friend in the world, and I love him more than breath itself.
  
• I have excellent friends at work. They are my treasures.
  
• I know we’ll get through the ‘crap’ of this month. In the end, we’ll be in a new place, away from the person I really, truly need to get away from, if I have any chance of wanting to salvage a relationship with them in the future.
  
• At GenCon, I won a beta slot for WarHammer Online! Go me! Go me!
• It’s hot as all hell, but I have a lots of fans, and some serious AC in the car. w00t.
• Did I mention that my husband is the shiznit? He really is. Plus, he’s got an awesome behind.

Whew. I do feel better. Sort of. Maybe better is not the word, but I do feel emptied of all the frustration.

Tags: Abigail, conventions, GenCon, moving, rants