LJ Idol Season 6 - Week 8 - Reprobate

She didn't come from money or class. She was abandoned when she was only 6 weeks old. It was a rainy night, and they left her in the downpour. No wonder she still hates getting wet. She was probably starving; it's no wonder she still fights for food.

We took her in. Oh, we already had two of our own, what's one more? She stole my heart. Flar was determined that we find her a home, but I was already lost to her. The doctors pronounced her healthy and gave her first round of vaccinations. They said she'd grow up to be a big girl. Oh, I put up flyers, even a free ad in the paper, but in a week, it was pretty clear that I had a new puppy of my own: Flood.

When Flood was a puppy, she was smaller than a cat, but the vet told us she'd grow into those paws. No one ever claimed her, but just around the same time, there was an ad for Pit Bull/Beagle mixes in the paper. Critter immediately dubbed her a Bugle, although since then I've gotten more understanding when I use the term Pit Beagle. Maybe she got out in the rain? The boys named her for the high waters the morning after she came to our back door. The creek was out of its banks, so they named her Flood. Sort of an anti-ironic name, since she was completely house-trained in almost no time. She will actually stand and bark at you until you get it into her head that she wants OUT!

Flar has never taken to her. His family has always owned Scotties, and we already had a high spirited pair of them. They were a double handful. They'd never really gotten the idea that their toilet is meant to be outside -- they figured that anywhere private from watching eyes was good enough. They were siblings who had never grown out of the play-fighting of their puppy days. They never settled who was alpha, and when Flood came along, they mostly just made sure she knew she wasn't.

The Scotties taught Flood to fight, and Flood taught the Scotties to bark. Flood is still the more vocal of our two dogs (one of the Scotties passed in 2007). Once she was full grown, the fighting got to be a huge problem. We had to start crating her during meals, to keep her from fighting the Scotties for their food. For a while, we all carried bitters to spray in her face if she started something. Overtime, we learned to anticipate the circumstances that would set her off, and prevent most of the fights.

She's not a huge dog, but by Scotty standards, she's a giant. All skinny legs, she towers over Dizzy, but worse - she's tall enough to put her paws up on the kitchen counter and steal food. I've learned not to leave food out on the kitchen table or counter where she could get to it, but there are occasional slips. Her favorite treat is butter, thus the heavy cover over the dish.

I took her to obedience training when she was still growing, and she learned some commands, but she flunked the class on account of not being able to keep in a down-stay. I didn't keep up with the practice, so she's pretty wild. She loves people though and she'll settle down pretty quickly, as long as she can be in the same room with everyone.

Flar will offer to give her to you. He often jokes about shooting the dog. But, the summer that I took the kids on a train trip to Texas and back, when Flar stayed home to work and take care of the animals, when Flood got out of the fenced backyard and was hit by a car, he was the one who carried her, bleeding and shock-y, to the car. He was the one who drove her to the emergency overnight vet. He was the one who paid for the procedures to save her from the pneumothorax. He fretted about her.

She's my dog, and most of the time I'm the only one she'll obey, but Flar puts up with my little Reprobate because he loves me.

--

This entry was written for inclusion in The Real LJ Idol writing competition on Live Journal, Topic 8: Reprobate.

mood: indulgent tags: flood, idol 6

...to speak my mind :-)

Like the rest of the mindless masses, I spend more time on Facebook than I do on here or on any other "social networking" site. I've gone over the reasons before but here is a recap. It's quite simple. Facebook is easy. It's fun. It doesn't force a person (well, normally) to examine their own thoughts and feelings. It's like cotton candy - sweet, quick, fun instant gratification. If no one is commenting or chatting then I play on those addicting game applications that are the equivalent of video games, which I don't ever play. I have the coolest virtual farm and my YoVille pad is the nicest place I've ever "lived". So, I can indulge in my hermit-ness in a relatively benign manner and still get some gratification out of it. Don't get me wrong. I do communicate with others on FB every day. I have a friend whose cell phone seems to be an ephemeral feature in her life but she is always on FB so I can always contact her there. It isn't *entirely* about hiding out from the world on emotionally and virtually rainy days.

Granted, my hermit time could be put to better use. I could read a book, maybe? Yes. I wish I could read a book that wasn't required reading for school. My husband and I talked about this the other night. He is an avid, recreational reader and so am I ... when I am not in school. Honestly, the farther away I can get from a book in my free time during any given semester the better I feel. My husband confirmed that while he was in college (and he has a clinical doctoral degree so that's a lot of college) he felt the same way about recreational reading. But I digress.

There has been TONS on my mind lately and Facebook just isn't cutting it for feeding my emotional need to vent through a medium like this. Besides, I "friended" someone I never really intended to "friend" (and I am too much of an emotional, chicken-shit wreck right now to delete him. Boo me.) And now I feel uncomfortable just being myself on my own damn FB page. It's complicated in my own head. Yes, I know. I'm pathetic. Let's move on. So, I was thinking earlier about some uglier parts of the human condition - jealousy and envy. At least I think those are the ones. For example: If you really love someone then why would you be pissed off when they seem happy in their own life? To clarify, I have been there having a crappy day, month, year and someone else is just going on and on about how great their life is and I am not above the urge to take them down a notch or three to make myself feel less crappy. But I rarely, if ever, feel that way toward someone that I truly care about and whom I know isn't rubbing their happiness in my face just to spite me. If I feel the least bit as if they are gloating just for the sake of gloating and completely disregarding my feelings then I am likely to experience the urge to tell them to shut the hell up. But if a friend has been working toward something and then achieves it, I am HAPPY for them, even if I am not feeling like a blinding beacon of personal accomplishment at that moment in time. Why should my own shit have anything to do with their happiness? It doesn't.
( Read more... )

mood: contemplative

I was just accosted by a psychotic bitch. She was outside the local McDonalds screaming about how you should NOt be giving oral sex to people when you have H.I.V. and i thought that was probably not what she should be discussing at anything above a whisper so I mentioned something to the Manager about the woman. Well the asshole throws me under the buss and tells the woman that I am the one who said something. She followed him inside and confronted me about it so I explained to her that I just thought that she shouldn't be yelling about her friend's condition and "job" at the top of her lungs as it was 1) none of any one's business but her friends and 2) very off-putting to those coming to eat.
She goes into a flurry of verbal abuse at me while about 20 people just stand there in shock. Finally she storms off and a woman comes up to me and apologizes for her actions. seems this woman is her friend (not the hooker) and I explained to her why I said something and the woman thanked me and said the bitch would get a talking to when they get back to the "home".

mood: aggravated tags: god i hate people., wtf

Alfred makes his way home wearily, rubbing his chest where the bullet wounds had been bandaged. He unlocks the triple lock, waves his hand and mutters the runes to turn of the magical lock, and stumbles inside. Dropping his bag full of supplies and various costumes, Alfred looks around his quiet home. The furniture has never been used, nor the kitchen stove turned on. I was ok living like this...once. No, I still am.

Sighing, Alfred slides off his steel toed boots and rubs his feet. He removes the blood slick overshirt, examining how the newest bullet scars would look on his heavily tattooed torso. Turning left and right, he ensures that the scriptures and other important runes are still visible and clear to read, before reaching for his blackberry and call dialing. He tries calling, over and over again, leaving several messages from concerned to carefree. Come on Mortimer....just pick up, please...

"They can never handle the truth..." Alfred mutters under his breath. He shuffles upstairs, peeling off clothing as he makes his way to his inner Sanctum. He grabs a beer from the mini fridge and sits down in a beanbag chair, his eyes unfocused as if his mind wanders. Alfred waves a hand and a small photo album slowly floats down from a bookshelf and lands delicately in his lap. This is who I can never be...Why do I keep reminding myself?

Alfred flips through the photo album, examining the pictures within. Each has been taken by over a hundred private detectives, each paid extra to keep it hush hush. Each photo has a member of the Consillium on it, smiling and laughing and being carefree. Alfred smiles, his eyes rimming red as he see's them all joking and laughing, imagining it is him just outside of the lens making them laugh, or enjoying a milkshake on a rainy day or simply gathering for a peaceful meal together and friends. Alfred flips to the last page and gives a soft sob, gently tracing the outline of him and Gypsy dancing at Fee's wedding. I will never have this...I never can...I cannot be Jinx, I must be Sparkles.

The photo album is flung as hard as it can be, possibly for the 100th time. It hits the large standing mirror and, as if an actor in a well rehearsed play, it shatters on command. The falling shards of glass catch the reflection of the man in the beanbag, his head in his hands as he weeps in rage and sorrow for the life he can never lead.

LJ Idol Season 6 - Week 7 - One Touch Click

It's been a roller coaster ride. Yesterday, I was physically exhausted by the chemicals that accompanied all the emotions.

After the first call in September, we actually started talking about what it would be like, after he gets a kidney. How we could pick up and go for a trip on last minute super saver prices - Baxter requires at least two weeks to set up a travel delivery. Or, we could take a road trip without planning cargo space. We did most of this talking on the cruise that happened in spite of how close he was to the top of the list. We halfway expected not to go on the cruise, to be kept in town by a new kidney. When we got back from the trip, we talked about it happening any day.

It started to hit home to me when I was praying for safe travels for my friends over Thanksgiving weekend. I started thinking about all the other people who would be on the road, and how it's so often people in wrecks that donate. Donate. Not exactly a painless, out of sight, automatic payroll deduction to United Way. How do you pray, "protect the travels on the road" and "bring my dearest a kidney" in the same breath?

And then Christmas planning on the yet-again-shoestring budget, and the expectations diminished in our everyday conversations. Oh, at a recent visit to the clinic, they verified that he was the number one patient on the Type O list. But somehow, it started feeling distant. When Mom asked if she and Daddy should dump plans for us to go there for Christmas and start looking for flights to Lexington, I told her how much Flar was looking forward to Christmas in San Antonio. She worried about taking him off the list for 10 days. In the back of my head, the little ghoul said "New Year's is the drinking holiday, we'll be home by then."

I was aware I was squandering the extra time I was given by the gift of no work for weeks on end. I ramped up my job search, and even got some interviews, but I did little concrete to prepare the house for disruption of routines - whether for working full-time, traveling for Christmas, or the hospital stay a transplant would entail. It all still seemed like talk.

When suddenly, I went from "no work this week" to "can you come in on Tuesday and Wednesday?" to working full-time, except Friday mornings.

When suddenly, I had a third of the Christmas shopping and crafting done, and mostly accumulated in the dining room for wrapping (praise be to Mary Kay ladies who not only deliver, but gift-wrap as well!)

When suddenly, the call came. "Be ready to get more calls. Be ready for disappointment." Oh, I couldn't go back to sleep after that call, even though we had over two hours more before we'd be leaving the house. But it didn't seem real. We chatted in the hospital while we waited through the admitting process. I called work when I knew someone would be there to take the call. "Do you have an advanced directive? Did you bring it?" I'm the proxy, so we reviewed what I already knew, but I asked more detailed questions, with every one followed up by "but I don't want that to happen."

There aren't nearly as many procedures that count as major surgery as there used to be. With so many surgeries done by camera through tiny incisions, the prospect of a cesarean-sized incision and working with vessels large enough to handle the kind of blood flow a kidney uses... But we didn't know for sure the surgery would happen, and it was easy to talk in vagueness and concentrate on scheduling practicalities. I'd go to work, but only after we talked to the doctor and had some kind of understanding about how much warning I'd get to come back. It would be hours until they knew if he passed the cross-matching testing, if the other patient (highly sensitized) passed, if the kidney was good enough, if the surgery would really happen.

Going to work was a welcome distraction. Flar had Critter to keep him company at the hospital while he waited. I had permission to keep my phone on in Ops. I started indexing dailies, and when I switched to scanning, I kept one earbud in to listen for calls. I popped up twice to answer calls, but none from Flar. My manager, R, took me aside to check into plans - for the day, the week, etc. Would I want to work or not; how much? I even got the chance to ask about moving to full-time, since I'm still technically a part-time employee. I'd just coded back in for scanning, when I saw a voicemail -- I hadn't caught a call during the meeting. It was Flar, the operation was scheduled for 4pm. This was at about 2pm (funny, I remembered the :45 from when I clocked out when I wrote up a timeline, but not the hour).

That's when it hit. Everything was really going to happen. It was the most intense feeling I can remember. Pure adrenaline. Fear, excitement -- not really translating as happiness: I seriously couldn't understand why I wanted to sob uncontrollably. When I told R that it was really happening, that I had time to finish out the end of a bundle, she could tell I was almost losing it. She offered a hug and held me tight and then I got back to work. Routine, detailed tasks. They are the bomb for settling me out. I really don't think I could have gotten into a car and driven if not for stopping and finishing out and tidying up properly.

I'd tried to chronicle the day; I updated facebook diligently. But it seems a blur even now. Everything has changed. The surgery was successful. He came back to me, as I'd demanded when they wheeled him off. The outlook is bright. He's no longer a short-timer.

All because of the final gift of a stranger. Maybe his family decided. Maybe they knew her wishes. Or maybe this stranger had thought ahead and made sure.

You can.

It starts with One Click.


For Kentucky Residents

To find the link for your state's registry
I do not have information about how to register in other countries; I welcome more information about that in comments.
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This entry was written for inclusion in The Real LJ Idol writing competition on Live Journal, Topic 7: One Touch.

location: bed mood: sleepy tags: flar, idol 6, kidney

4:49 am First Call

There might be a kidney. After your dialysis is done, come in to draw blood. Expect to go home to wait 4 hours.

7:00 am Second Call

There might be two kidneys. Your chances of a transplant are better; Come to admitting instead of the transplant unit.

8:30 am Call to work

I'm going to be late this morning. ... I'm not sure when I'll be there; Matt may get a kidney today. I'm coming in after we talk to the doctor.

9:40 am Blood draws

She found a "good bleeder" for the draws/IV. Good thing, too. 11 vials of blood for testing.

History taken by student doctor. She crossed out Tigger's age when I said we were hoping to slide him by the "over 18" swine flu visitation restrictions.

The night doctor for the transplant team came in to answer questions about what to expect.

One of the nephrologists came by to tell Flar about a new anti-rejection drug therapy. An anti-psoriasis drug is being used for anti-rejection with good results.

Critter got to the room before I left to go to work. He stayed with Flar until his next class.

10:45 am Clocked in at work

Indexed the dailies. Switched to scanning. Had Chinese for lunch. Met with manager about forecast for my hours. Will be able to keep up with dailies, interested in full-time.

Pause to consider how great my job is, and how thankful I am for the people I work with and for.

Started scanning; phone call from Flar - surgery scheduled for 4pm.

How managers just KNOW when you're holding back tears, and ask anyway and hug with that tight kind of as long as you need it hug?

1:45 pm Clocked out; drove to hospital.

2:23 pm called C to ask her to pray, tell others, pickup Tigger at school & bring to hospital.

4 pm Flar moved to Pre-op. Nurses called Dr. Lock, the expert at removing rings.

5 pm Flar's wedding ring removed for the first time in 28 years, 6 months & 23 days.

Truly arrived and cane back to Pre-op.

C arrived with Tigger, who came back to Pre-op.

6 pm Flar wheeled into surgery.

7:20 pm Hospital tested fire alarm system. Flubbed starting the vidcam to catch CuppyKate faking a freakout.

Have I mentioned that even a studying CuppyKate is a welcome, cheerful addition to any waiting room?

8:20 pm OR nurse called to say they are closing.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

location: Surgery waiting at UK Hospital mood: Waiting tags: flar, kidney, via ljapp

4:49 am First Call

There might be a kidney. After your dialysis is done, come in to draw blood. Expect to go home to wait 4 hours.

7:00 am Second Call

There might be two kidneys. Your chances of a transplant are better; Come to admitting instead of the transplant unit.

8:30 am Call to work

I'm going to be late this morning. ... I'm not sure when I'll be there; Matt may get a kidney today. I'm coming in after we talk to the doctor.

9:40 am Blood draws

She found a "good bleeder" for the draws/IV. Good thing, too. 11 vials of blood for testing.

History taken by student doctor. She crossed out Tigger's age when I said we were hoping to slide him by the "over 18" swine flu visitation restrictions.

The night doctor for the transplant team came in to answer questions about what to expect.

One of the nephrologists came by to tell Flar about a new anti-rejection drug therapy. An anti-psoriasis drug is being used for anti-rejection with good results.

Critter got to the room before I left to go to work. He stayed with Flar until his next class.

10:45 am Clocked in at work

Indexed the dailies. Switched to scanning. Had Chinese for lunch. Met with manager about forecast for my hours. Will be able to keep up with dailies, interested in full-time.

Pause to consider how great my job is, and how thankful I am for the people I work with and for.

Started scanning; phone call from Flar - surgery scheduled for 4pm.

How managers just KNOW when you're holding back tears, and ask anyway and hug with that tight kind of as long as you need it hug?

1:45 pm Clocked out; drove to hospital.

2:23 pm called C to ask her to pray, tell others, pickup Tigger at school & bring to hospital.

4 pm Flar moved to Pre-op. Nurses called Dr. Lock, the expert at removing rings.

5 pm Flar's wedding ring removed for the first time in 28 years, 6 months & 23 days.

Truly arrived and cane back to Pre-op.

C arrived with Tigger, who came back to Pre-op.

6 pm Flar wheeled into surgery.

7:20 pm Hospital tested fire alarm system. Flubbed starting the vidcam to catch CuppyKate faking a freakout.

Have I mentioned that even a studying CuppyKate is a welcome, cheerful addition to any waiting room?

8:20 pm OR nurse called to say they are closing.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

location: Surgery waiting at UK Hospital mood: Waiting tags: flar, kidney, via ljapp

I'm still on a completely unintentional semi-LJ hiatus. By that I mean that I check the RSS feed and click entries at random. Maybe I should give up on catching up and just start reading again.

Speaking of reading, Adventures in Wrimonia should definitely be on your Things To Read list. For those who don't know, Wrimonia is my second NaNoWriMo novel and is being posted to SWAT on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, starting yesterday. That link is to the main Wrimonia page if you miss a section.

Now, to sleep.

mood: sleepy music: Hatcham Social: So So Happy Making tags: 101in1001 entries, wrimonia

This is the first in what may or may not become a series of posts on topics related to what I will call "self-hacking." You can call it "self-help," but I think that's a more limiting paradigm. The techniques that work for self-help (i.e. fixing perceived problems in oneself) also work for almost any kind of directed self-change.

Today, I'm going to make a point that I recently realized a need to emphasize in my own practice of self-hacking. The essence is simply that a person is a system, and that like all systems, a person transforms inputs to outputs, with a corresponding change in internal state. Because of the huge complexity of our internal states, we're not slaves to our inputs. Nonetheless, those inputs have a lot of impact on us. If you're an introspective type like myself, your intuitive feel for how much you're affected by external input is almost certainly way off kilter. Everything in our environment -- from the people we spend our time with to the temperature in the room -- affects us constantly, and in turn affects the decisions we make and the people we become from one moment to the next. Moreover, because of the sheer volume of such input, we are of unavoidable necessity unaware of most of these effects at any particular time.

Most self-help and self-hacking resources that I've seen focus on changing one's approach to interpreting events or making decisions. Essentially, such a self-help resource is trying -- in and of itself -- to be the input that changes the system. However, a resource is a transient input, read once or occasionally and then (at best) stored away in memory. A resource seeking to make a persistent change in how you process everything else around you is facing a near-insurmountable challenge. I think that this is part of the reason that the "self-help" field is regarded with such skepticism. There's a lot of terrible stuff about, but even the best methods for self-hacking face the chasm between "words on a page" and "way of life." Making persistent changes directly to one's internal state is really, really hard. Because that state has so much power over one's actions, that makes persistent changes to behavior and habits -- that is, outputs -- even harder.

There is, however, something that is by comparison relatively easy to change, and that can help. Any good engineer will tell you that the simplest way to change the output of a system is to change the inputs. Even though people are notoriously complex and unpredictable systems, I think that principle applies. What's more, because many of us like to imagine ourselves as intellectual wonders, we're unlikely to accept this, and thus unlikely to spend an appropriate amount of effort on building environments suitable to the people we're trying to become.

Once more, for emphasis: changing internal state is hard; by comparison, changing environmental factors is easy. In the physical world, when you move something, it tends to stay where you put it until you move it again. Most of us have a lot of control over the spaces we spend most of our time in. If you want to apply a lasting force for change on yourself, use that. Figure out which kinds of things you can bring into your immediate world, such that seeing and hearing and feeling and smelling and tasting them every day will make you more like the person you want to be. In a lot of cases, it's a one-time or small investment of effort, and one that is guaranteed to continue affecting you continuously until you change things again.

Naturally, this isn't a panacea; nothing is. Being the complex creatures we are, our reactions to environmental stimuli are rarely easy to predict. Nonetheless, it pays to be aware that a much larger part of what we do every day is, in fact, some kind of reaction to our environment. Play with that environment, experiment, and figure out as best you can what kinds of changes work for you. This is neither feng shui nor rocket science, it's just the straightforward consequence of human nature and the nature of the world we live in.

Change the inputs, and (sooner or later) you change the outputs. You can like it or not, but it applies to you just as much as it applies to your computer; in the end, if you're wise, you'll use it to your advantage.

tags: self-hacking

Here it is, my annual Christmas wishlist of DOOOOM! (now with more OOO!) Here is where I provide for friends/Family/Random people who come across this postingz the opportunity to peruse my listing of wants for the upcoming big purchasing day. As you will notice, I attempt to provide a wide spectrum of gifts for people to provide me with, so no one feels bad that they can't get me super awesome expensive thing and can just get me something small and nice :). This year, I am going to actively attempt to organize this list, by arranging things in groupings of what they are!! Enjoy :D


Electronic:
. Xbox 360
. Rockband 2 (Wii) (full set with guitars, drums,etc etc)
. RAM for Computer
. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess (Wii)
. Punch Out!! (Wii)
. Super Mario Galaxy (Wii)
. Wii Fit (Wii)
. Blackberry 8520 Curve for T-Mobile car charger
. Blackberry 8520 Curve for T-Mobile house charger
. Blackberry 8520 Curve for T-Mobile bluetooth headset
. Stereo for 95 Mazda truck
. iPod
. New Laptop
. World of Warcraft Game Cards
. Dragon Age (PC)
. PS2 Remote
. Singstar: With Mic's (PS2)
. Singstar: Queen
. Black Ink for Printer
. Color Ink for Printer
. Printer Paper
. Flash Drive
. Computer speakers
. Mic for computer
. Digital Camera

Books:
. Autumn Nightmares (Changeling)
. Winter Masques (Changeling)
. Lords of Summer (Changeling)
. Rites of Spring (Changeling)
. Grim Fears (Changeling)
. Swords at Dawn (Changeling)
. Adamantine Arrow (Mage)
. Summoners (Mage)
. Magical Traditions (Mage)
. Mage:The Awakening Tarot Deck (Mage)
. Mehket Clanbook (Vampire)
. Circle of the Crone (Vampire)
. Shining Host (Changeling MET)

Furniture:
. Computer desk
. Computer chair
. Bookshelf
. Ceiling fan
. Entertainment System
. Super fluffy pillows
. Couch cover (red or tan)
. Shelves

Clothing:
. Khaki shorts (36 waist)
. Khaki pants (36 waist, 30/32 length)
. White socks
. Black dress socks
. Black dress shoes (8 1/2 to 9, wide if possible)
. Carpenter jeans (36 waist, 30/32 length)
. Blue Lantern shirt (large)
. Blue Lantern hoodie (large)

Random:
. several decks of playing cards
. pens (black)
. Spiral notebooks
. New backpack
. Glitter hairspray
. Christmas tree smell
. Air freshener for car
. Gillete razor blade cartridges
. Plane Ticket to Minnesota
. New Tires for Truck
. New glasses
. New Contacts
. Cash
. Old Spice Deodorant and cologne
. Fishing pole
. Plastic tubs for prop storage
. Wal-Mart gift card
. Lowes Gift Card
. Dennys Gift Card
. Applebee's gift card
. Wallet
. New belt
. Blackberry curve holster
. Rose seeds
. Fertilizer
. Garden gloves
. Windshield wipers
. Glee Season 1 on DvD
. Scrubs seasons 1-7 on DVD
. Orbitz watermelon spring gum
. Stamps
. Envelopes
. AA batteries
. AAA batteries
. C batteries
. RainX for truck windshield