A Halloween story straight from the depths of hell

I spent 20 minutes last night looking for a stuffed animal to adorn my cat poop cookies. The last place I ventured was my old closet, the one my parents left intact with my pre-college games, clothes and toys.

Right off the bat, I spied a tiger Beanie Baby circa 2000, when Mom was still in her "collect everything with beans in its butt" phase. I reached up to grab it ...

... and awoke this beast. My god. Does anybody remember the 1998 Furby Fever? It is rumored that on Christmas Eve '98, black market Furbies retailed for $500. Anybody willing to pay $500 for one of these little monsters has never turned the damn thing on.

So I was standing in my closet and heard this mechanical buzz, and right away, I knew it was the creepy-ass eyes of my Furby coming to life. I groaned.

"Dada!" I gritted my teeth. Not only had I roused the spawn of Satan, but he couldn't even get my gender right. "Me play! Me play!" I grabbed the tiger plushie and the Furby and headed downstairs, where I was greeted with chuckles from my husband. Clearly, he did not recognize the seriousness of this situation.

Once these things turn on, you can never ever turn them off. Fire and brimstone could rain down from heaven, the avian flu could wipe out the human population, nuclear war could destroy the Earth in one fell swoop. And when the smoke cleared and the rubble settled, there would stand a thousand Furbies, giggling and saying, "Hey kah mee-mee ay-tay wah," which, according to the Furbish-English dictionary, means, "Hey, I very happy yeah!"

By 11:30 p.m., I'd had enough. Seriously. This thing was going to sleep, period. "Remove the batteries," Paul told me. Those batteries had been in there seven years and the thing wasn't dead. I swear the Furby is controlled by a darker power. I assured Paul there were ways to turn it off (other than bashing it repeatedly against a brick wall).

I covered Furby's freaky third eye thing-a-ma-jig. Paul started laughing, prompting Furby to exclaim, "Big noise! Me scared!" Thanks for insulting my husband with one of the four English phrases you've "learned" in the past seven years. I changed tactics and covered Furby's entire face with my hand.

Then I sat. And waited.

Finally, after a full two minutes, Furby demanded in his sickeningly sweet voice, "Wee-tee kah way-loh," ("Sing me sleep.") I refused to oblige.

And two more minutes later, he finally stated, "Baby tired. Me sleep!" I breathed a sigh of relief as he started to snore, a sound that can only be described as a fart followed by a shudder. And then, as quickly as his mechanical eyes had whirred open, they whirred shut again, leaving me alone in the darkened kitchen with a pile of cat poop cookies.

I cried myself to sleep. I didn't sign up for this.

My cat's been ... busy

Monday is the moral-building Halloween potluck at work. My contribution: cat poop cookies.

I had kind of mentioned it jokingly to a coworker last week, and the idea took off like wildfire. Everywhere I walked in the office, somebody would ask, "Kate, you're not really going to make cat poop cookies, are you?" By the time Friday rolled around, I felt there was no way I could back out of it.

So behold! Cat poop cookies!

Actually, these were a staple around my house when I was a kid because you can make them in 15 minutes and they don't require an oven. Unfortunately, Mom didn't call them "cat poop cookies" and didn't serve them in a litter box with a scoop. But in case you want to surprise Granny at your next holiday dinner, here's the recipe:

Cat Poop Cookies

1 stick butter or margarine
4 Tbsp. cocoa powder
2 cups sugar
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup peanut butter
3 cups quick oats
1 tsp. vanilla
Optional mix-ins: chopped peanuts, coconut, butterscotch chips ... whatever

In a medium saucepan, heat butter, cocoa, sugar and milk. Stir until boiling and let boil one minute. Remove from heat and stir in peanut butter until it dissolves. Add oats, vanilla, and mix-ins if wanted. (Wait until it cools a bit if you want to add the butterscotch chips, or they'll just melt.)

Drop by spoonful onto wax paper and let cool until solid. Stick 'em in a roasting pan on a bed of Grapenuts with a cat litter scoop, and you're good to go. ^_^

So what do you think? Convincing??

Goddess painting numero dos

Have I mentioned that I'm keeping my hands busy until I know whether I'm going to need surgery? That's the deal with the sudden flux of weekend paintings, in case you were wondering.

This is what I did in between playing CoV last night/this morning. Took way longer than I intended because the canvas was so damn big. And since it was too big to fit on the scanner, Paul took a photo of it for me. That's why there's a hair plastered across the middle of it. It's not actually part of the painting. ::grins::

Last night, I was working on the water, and I just couldn't get it to my liking, so I started blending with my finger. Paul looked over and said, "What the heck are you doing?" I said, "I dunno ... it works for me." I guess I'm kind of glad I've never had an art class or anything, because nobody's ever told me what I can and can't do. I mean, hell, I blend my makeup with my fingers, so why not paint??

Happy Saturday, boys and girls. ^_^

Buy, or I'll be a sad panda

$10 on Amazon.

See, I have this book out, right? And, like, it's full of all these mysteries and there's one about poop and three about squirrels and a whole bunch about people killing other people and stuff.

Now I don't know all the hows and whys and whatzits and stuff, but Amazon has SASM on sale for $10, which is about 33% off its regular price.

The downside is that Amazon doesn't yet have a picture of the cover of SASM! And that's just sad, because presales are doing well and they'd be even better if people knew what the book looked like.

So here's me with my copy of SASM. You have to imagine what the other half of the cover looks like because I was taking a picture of myself with my SideKick, and that's hard enough without having to balance my head on a book and try to get the title in the shot and everything.

So, yeah, buy a copy while it's still on sale. I'll even sign it for you! Or, if you're crafty, you can forge my signature then wait 20 years and sell it on eBay for a few thousand bucks. Your call.

If it was beauty sleep, it didn't work...

I went to bed at 8:30 last night. It was inevitable. Tuesday, I was up until 1:30 a.m. (technically Wednesday morning, no?) power-leveling my CoH character M-K. That pic is of me with my goons, in case you guys aren't yet acquainted.

And Wednesday night (Thursday morning), I was up until 1 a.m. with Jeremy who was licking his emotional wounds after a fight with Sara. They made up and he went home (and I bit my tongue and let it slide). I don't regret staying up when a friend is involved — ever — but I think my eyelids have a mind of their own.

By the time last night rolled around, I was dragging. I thought about doing the caffeine thing (see caffeinated soap here), but I've still got some residual fear from my Memorial Day caffeine-poisoning. So I relinquished the 2-liter of Pepsi, meditated for an hour, then grabbed some shuteye.

It ended up working in my favor, though I didn't plan it that way. Tonight is The Night. City of Villains goes live at midnight Eastern, effectively putting a cork in the whiny naysayers who've prattled on about its tardy release. Priority Numero Uno is reserving my characters' names. Priority Numero Dos is fighting the lag while not complaining about my much-needed video card upgrade.

Sigh. I never thought it'd happen, but now I understand why Pablo skipped class to play CounterStrike: An in-game faceplant — for whatever reason — is much better than an in-class faceplant due to the boredom of not gaming.

Nuts

Last night, I had a friend whom I really like and respect tell me I was "nuts, but in a good way." He was busy and I was confuzzled, so I didn't ask what that meant.

He's a nice guy and I know it wasn't intended to be mean ... still thought I'd see what you guys had to say. Any ideas?

She just wanted to make sure he stayed regular...

SASM is now available through Amazon and BN. Yay! Still no pictures, though. Boo hiss!

Things went well yesterday at the doctor's office. He put me at ease right away, so I was able to tell him everything that was going on. We discussed adding another drug to the mix, and I was opposed. So I'm going up slightly on the Lamictal and taking more Klonopin until the whole book/hand stuff subsides. Then I can start trying to work myself back off the Klons. They're a "quick fix" drug, and I'm not in this for a quick fix.

I always get a trip out of sitting in the waiting room. It's an understatment to say there are some interesting people waiting to see the psychiatrist. Most people are okay — just sitting there reading a magazine or balancing their checkbook or whatever it is people do in a waiting room. But there are always some people who are talking loudly to each other (or, in this case, loudly to themselves).

Yesterday, I was perched on a fairly uncomfortable chair waiting to relinquish half my paycheck in copay fees when this middle-aged very sane-looking woman walks up to the nurses' window and asks to borrow the phone.

I figured it was one of the typical doc office calls: "Mom's running late. Stick the spaghetti on the stove."

But, as this wasn't a typical doc office, I should've known better. ::grins::

Now, I only heard half the conversation here, but it went something like this:

"Hey there! I was just calling to check on you and the baby. How's the baby? Oh good. What do you mean who is this? It's your honeydear. Mmhmm. Are you sitting in your chair? You're not? Why not? Well, you need to go sit in your chair! Because I said so! No, I'm going to be a little late because I have to go by and get my prescriptions. Are you sitting in your chair now? It sounds like you're sitting in your chair. Good. Do you still need me to pick up your prune juice on the way home? No, you need prune juice. Really."

She's been talking really loudly, and it's a fairly small office. And I swear to you, every person in the waiting room snickered when she asked about the prune juice. I think it was one of those TMI moments, picturing this woman racing home to make sure her honeydear is sitting in his chair drinking his prune juice.

What I'd say to my psychiatrist if I could find the words

Dear Dr. Boyd,

If I were a more eloquent speaker, I'd tell you how crazy the last month has been. If I weren't so shy, I wouldn't be phased when you asked me how I was doing. I wouldn't blink a few times and stammer out that I am fine, especially since we both know I'm not or I wouldn't be in your office in the first place.

But I'm not an eloquent speaker, and I am shy, with little areas locked away so tightly that even I don't know why I'm hurting sometimes. See, doc, I had this friend who used to tell me the best way to deal with problems was to bury them under the other stuff until they went away. I was young and naive, and it sounded plausible at the time: If I just focused on my music or my work, all the bad stuff wouldn't have time to muddle up my brain.

Now I'm a little bit older and a little bit wiser. He's gone, and I know that his advice was crap. But now the pendulum has swung the other way. Instead of burying my problems, I try to bring them to light in hopes that others will understand they're not alone. I trust early and easily, almost to the point of excess, and I expect others to trust me in return. I discover that everyone is dealing with something. Then we walk the road together for a while until our paths lead in different directions.

I'm trying to work through everything — my past, my stress, my life — on my own. Lord knows therapy didn't do any good. For all the cash I dropped on weekly sessions, I don't feel any more healed that the day I walked in. Every "breakthrough" I've experienced has come through a tightly knit group of friends who act as my sounding board. I figure I'm nothing if I don't believe in humanity. We're all in the same boat together, right?

It's just that right now, I feel so mixed up and strange. The book release has stretched me to my limits. And I'm so fearful of losing the use of one of my hands that I can hardly function day to day without breaking down. I'm scared of being alone, not because I'd hurt myself, but because I am hurting. I guess there's no magic pill for that, is there?

I'm not an eloquent speaker. I'm not even an eloquent writer, which is why I gave that up long ago. It appears, then, that my thoughts will never make it onto paper in a way that sounds right to me, and the words on paper will never translate into speech that conveys what I wrote.

I'm going to struggle to drag myself out the door today, go to work and impatiently wait to drive across the city to your office. I'm going to sit in the waiting room and read this over and over, trying to figure out what to say without sounding weak and helpless. And maybe when today is over, things will make a little more sense.

Or maybe this is one long nightmare, and I'll awake in my bed as this dream slips just out of reach and I'm left with that odd feeling that something important happened while I was asleep, though I'll never know what.

Welcome to "Fallinter"

It's commonly known that Memphis doesn't really have an "autumn" (at least, not in the conventional sense of the word). Instead, we have this freak season that's mostly winter, but with a sprinkling of warm days in between just to keep things interesting.

I call this "fallinter."

When I turned on the news this morning, the local temperature was 36, with a wind chill of 34. I love it. If I'm cold, I'm happy. I've got friends in NYC and Vancouver, and I seriously think it's about time we move somewhere with more snow and less everything else. There are other reasons to move. New York has, well, everything Memphis doesn't. Vancouver has Daiso AND it's out of the States. It's a toss-up.

Anyway, the pic is of our house during the last "big snow" in Memphis. This was a major deal getting that much snow! For real! We even built a snowman — here's a closeup and here's a pic for scale. ::grins::

Sigh. Maybe that dude that said the Japanese mafia was battering the U.S. via weather manipulation was right. Or maybe he's just crazy. :-Þ

P.S. Book availability:
Barnes and Noble: Available (no pic yet)
Amazon and alibris: Behind the times ;)
First preorder I know of: Beaner!

100 questions nobody cares about but I'll answer anyway

You can thank FF for this meme. And don't worry — I don't intend for you to read all the answers. Just skim like the first seven or so and skip to the end. Then we'll pretend you cared enough to read the whole thing and never speak of this again. ::grins::

1. First grade teacher's name: Mrs. Cawthorn.
2. Last person you kissed: Paul. Last night.
3. Last word you said: Mmhmm. (Does that count?)
4. Last song you sang: "Desperately Wanting," Better than Ezra. (iPod in the car.)
5. Last person you hugged: Paul. This morning.
6. Last thing you laughed at: link-> Monstee's blog.
7. What's in your CD player: (iPod...) Warrior's Code, Dropkick Murphys
8. Who is your favorite star/s: Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale.
9. What socks are you wearing: Nintendo flip-flops, kthx.
10. What's under your bed: Knowing us, dust bunnies.
11. Current status: Status? Married. Working. Living.
12. Current taste: Taste in what? I like thermal knit shirts in neutral colors.
13.Current Hairstyle: Long, straight and boring.
14. Current clothes: Ratty jeans, Nintendo flip-flops, black ringer tee, System of a Down concert jacket.
15. Current Hate: Non-disclosure agreements. (Kidding, Paul.)
16. Current longing: A free hour to meditate.
17. Current desktop picture: Beach sunset link-> (here).
18. Current worry: SQL. Oh, and the final book proof.
19. Current Love: Paul. My parents. Matthew.
20. Story behind your username: I'm an editor ... Kate's Ink is red.
21. Current favorite article of clothing: Black hoodie — got me through high school and college.
22. a. Favorite physical feature(s) on yourself: Eyebrows. And my left elbow.
22. b. on opposite sex: Hair?
23. Last CD that you bought: The Beekeeper, Tori Amos.
24. Favorite place to be: Canuckistan.
25. Least favorite place: The expressway. Residual anxiety attacks.
26. Time you wake up in the morning: 6 a.m. 6:30 a.m. 6:45 a.m. (Snooze alarm junkie.)
27. If you could play a new instrument, what would it be? I'm happy with my piano, thanks.
29. Current favorite word/saying: Shitfuck. (Or, if I'm in mixed company: Perchance.)
30. Favorite book: Where the Sidewalk Ends, Shel Silverstein.
31. Favorite Movies: Reservoir Dogs, X-Men, Fight Club.
34. One person from your past you wish you could go back and talk to: Romp. To apologize.
35. Favorite day: Thursday!!! (Nobody asks me that!)
36. Where do you want to go: Hell in a handbasket. Or maybe just L.A.
37. What is your career going to be: Data miner in the technorati.
38. Who is your best friend/s: You, Mr./Ms. Person-Reading-This-Right-Now.
39. What kind of car do you have: Saturn VUE. You'll know it's mine because I have a licence plate holder that says "The Internet Makes You Stupid."
40. A random lyric: "It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy." (Kansas)
41. Eye Color: Black. Hellishly red in photos.
42. Hair Color: Dark brown (almost black naturally).
43. Righty or Lefty: Righty. Left is apparently deteriorating. :-\
45. Zodiac Sign: Born on the Taurus/Gemini cusp (Cusp of Energy).
46.Innie or Outtie: Innie. Boooring.
47. Your heritage: Adopted.
48. The shoes you wore today: See questions #9 and #14.
49. Your hair: See questions #13 and #42.
50. Your weakness: Caring too much. Worrying too much.
51. Your fears: Being alone with the anxiety and depression.
52. Your most recent secret?: link -> Peach Shimmer.
54. Your thoughts first waking up: Is that Paul's alarm clock or mine going off?
55. The first feature you notice in the opposite sex: See #22b.
56. Your bedtime: 11 p.m. Midnight. Depends on whether my buddies (Sam, Bean, Bear, Basalt) are around.
57. Your most missed companion: Matt.
58. Your perfect pizza: Grilled chicken. No sauce. Light cheese. (Very picky.)
60. Single or group dates: Out of the dating pool, thank god.
61. Dogs or Cats: Love cats; allergic to everything.
62. Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Right now, it's a single estate hand-rolled green from the East China Sea and only available one place in the U.S. So there.
63. Chocolate or vanilla: Lemon.
64. Cappuccino or coffee?: Soy latte.
65. Smoke: Like four times.
66. Curse: Repeatedly.
67. Sing: In the car. And dance, too. I'm a one-woman variety show for other drivers.
68. Take a shower everyday: Yes.
69. Have a crush: Eh, crushes, schmushes.
71. Think you've been in love: Eight years, five months, 23 days.
72. Want to go to college: Waiting on Paul. Want to get out of editing and study physics. Or comp sci.
73. Want more than what you got: I'm happy. But I could use another cup of tea...
74. Want to get married: Been there, done that. Got the video to prove it.
75.Type with your fingers in the right place: Durrr.
76. Think you're attractive: I have nice toes.
77. Think you're a health freak: No. But I'm on tons of meds.
78. Get along with your parents: Yes, since I moved out to go to college.
79. Play an instrument: Piano. And I hum really well. ;)
80. Drink: Tea. Pepsi. Last night, a little too much Bacardi and Coke. (Ask my gaming buddies.) >_<
82. Done a drug: Yes. The pharmacy loves me.
83. Made Out: Yeah.
84. Go on a date: First date with Paul: Video games at two different arcades. (Very prophetic, no?)
85. Eaten an entire box of Oreos: ... Not at one time. (Eww.)
86. Eaten sushi: Yes, but rarely. Paul and our families hate sushi, so if I order it, I eat alone.
87. Been dumped: Yes. But I met Paul a couple of weeks later, so it was relatively painless.
88. Made homemade cookies: Christmas and company potlucks.
89. Caused a fire: In high school chem with link -> Abby. And I fell asleep making brownies when I was nine and, like, blew up the oven.
90. Gone skinny dipping: No.
91. Dyed your hair: Light brown. Black. White. Blonde. Blue. Red. Orange. Purple.
92. Stolen anything: Yes.
93. Had too much to drink: No. Sometimes the meds make me a lightweight, but I'm careful.
94. Been caught cheating: No.
95. Been called a tease: No.
96. Gotten beaten up: Slapped by a drunk guy. And one time, a mean man tore all the limbs off my teddy bear, and that was a very personal attack on me.
97. Changed who you were to fit in: Yes, until I stopped giving a shit.
98. Cried at something beautiful: I cried playing video games the other night. ^_^
99. Spent too much money on something you didnt need?: The iPod was a gift, and I needed the SideKick.
100. Cried when someone died?: Yes. Way to end 100 questions on a positive note ...

See, wasn't that fun? And it saved me from having to come up with a real post! Yay!
[Edit: Had complaints that the links blended in to my blue text ... so I marked them for ya. You're welcome.]

SASM goes global :)

Just a very short book-related post. I got the proof tonight. It's gorgeous! :-) Fixing a couple of minor things on the proof (funky margins, anybody?), but the presses should be rolling on the official too-late-to-make-any-changes run next week. (Nov. 1 is probably a safe date to quote.) Also, the book has been picked up by Baker & Taylor for UK/European distribution.

If I weren't so gosh-darn tired, I'd take a picture of me holding the book. Eh, maybe tomorrow.

But, really. I didn't expect this little imprint to take me international. I'm ecstatic. ^_^

The beatings will continue until morale improves

I wouldn't post this if I thought that my coworker would mind, but she has a good sense of humor, so I don't think it could hurt.

This was sent out via company e-mail today:

It's about time we have a company eating, moral building, trying different dishes "get together". This wonderfully fun eating smorgasbord will be held on Monday, October 31st.

Within moments, the senior editor and I had swapped e-mails (apparently we sent them within seconds of each other):

"I wonder how the company plans to build its employees' morals at this get-together?"

The original sender soon sent out a correction, but I still think we could center the buffet around company morals:

Virtuous veggie platter


Faithful finger sandwiches


Pizza with principles


Righteous Rotel dip

Ethical egg salad

Cookies with credibility

Sounds much more enlightening than any ole Halloween party!

It's not as bad as cancer

Ugh. What a night.

I went to a "party" to visit with my grandmother and my favorite out-of-town uncle. What happens?

• My grandmother, in worsening health and living in an assisted care facility, hardly speaks anymore. When I get her alone and ask her how she's feeling, she says, "Blue." Just "Blue." One word. And not even a happy word at that.
• Uncle Hugh, in town from California, is a former plastic surgeon specializing in hands. I knew he'd level with me about my possible diagnosis of Kienbock's. He said, "Well, it's not as bad as cancer." Yes, well, thanks. That inspires me to ever-higher levels of optimism.
• Also, I told my mother I was suicidal. Um, oops?

Paul wasn't there — school supercedes life — and when I came home, he was so engrossed with the game of whatever-the-hell-he's-playing that I was unable to elicit any emotion or conversation from him until he killed a spider about to invade my Raisinettes.

Eh, there's some residual anger at Paul because he told me yesterday that he was under an NDA regarding his research and that I wasn't on a "need-to-know" basis. I understand the whole secrecy Men In Black government research crap, but if he ever tells me I don't "need to know" again, he needs to know he'll be sleeping on the couch. ::grins::

Mostly, I'm just out of sorts. I have PMS and I'm on pain pills.

Still, I told my mother I was suicidal. My mother. The one that worries about little stuff, like whether I'll be abducted while walking to my car after work. Bad move, Kate. >_<

And, as for my hand, it's not as bad as cancer.

What the hell does that mean, anyway?

"This one's for you. With you know what, and you probably know why."

Yesterday, I was in such a state of hand-related self pity that I forgot to post this beauty of a dedication page.

As I've mentioned before, Neil Gaiman is my current favorite author (replacing my high school favorite, Thoreau, and my college favorite, Eliot).

Gaiman's the man behind my favorite comic book series, Sandman. But he also wrote Coraline. And American Gods. And Good Omens. If you haven't read Good Omens, move it to the top of your list. It's in my Top 5 favorite novels of all time.

So when I heard in July that Gaiman's next novel, Anansi Boys, was scheduled for a September release, I was all over it like flies on poo. (Whee! Flies on poo!!) I pre-ordered it, but then a better deal came along: Why buy my regular old pre-ordered copy of Anansi Boys when Smacky could snag me an autographed copy?!

The package came yesterday.

I now hold in my hands the latest hardcover from my favorite author, with his John Hancock scrawled on the dedication page. I'm ecstatic to the nth degree. ::grins:: If I were any closer to Smacky, I'd run up to him on the street and give him a big kiss on the cheek. But since I've never met him in person, he (and his wife) might find it kind of strange ... so I'll refrain.

So thanks, Neil, for sparking my creativity and drawing me into your own Anansi web. And thank you, Smacky, for taking the time and effort to send me the book. You rock. :)

Saw the hand doc today...

It might be Kienbock's Disease. Or it might be nothing.
It might mean part of my hand is dying. Or it might be nothing.
It might mean sawing off part of my radius. Or it might be nothing.

The MRI is in six weeks. It seems like forever when I think my "I'm so brave" facade might crumble at any minute.

Weekend round-up

Paul's at work, so I was able to finish up the painting I started yesterday. I was actually kind of grumpy last night because I had to stop mid-sky to take bro-in-law out for dinner. But I think it turned out okay. ::shrugs::

I'm not pagan, but I liked the symbolism of the spiral goddess. I think it represents rebirth. I'll have to ask Rachel to explain it to me.

And why did Paul and I have to take Matt out? Because he leveled my video game character when I had to work late. That was the deal: He'd level me; we'd take him to J. Alexander's over the weekend.

The non-disclosure agreement has been lifted on City of Villains, so I can now tell you guys how much it's rocked to be a beta tester. It started out pretty buggy, but the devs have done a great job of fixing it up before the scheduled Halloween launch. The beta servers have been running on a short nightly window (first two hours, then three, now four), so all of us seem to have sort of reworked our schedules for gameplay.

It's taken me a while to get used to playing the bad guy. Paul seemed to take to the idea rather quickly, but it's hard for me to be mean. We'll see if that hinders me when the game goes live.

Oh! I'd just like to publicly announce how much Smacky rocks!! I think it'll take me a couple of days to show you why he rocks ... but for now, you can just take my word for it.

Now ... off to wash my hands. I stuck my pinky in a big blob of yellow paint, and just realized there's still some squishing around under my fingernail. Ew.

Lil bro...

Say hi, Maffoo!
--katesink

Destin: By the Numbers

Kate's Vacation, a Top 10 list:

• Ten hours of driving each way (counting gas fill-ups, snack breaks, and bathroom stops).
  
• Nine Dramamine consumed to keep me from puking in the car. It worked. I didn't have to get out my Handy-Saks (read: puke bags) even once!
  
• Eight episodes of Coast to Coast during the drive, including information about green children, children's memories of past lives, weather manipulation conspiracies, and the lady who telepathically talks to alien ambassadors from Zeta Reticuli.
  
• Seven souvenirs for friends (two t-shirts, two magnets, one lighter, one set of Destin-emblazoned golf balls and a pair of shoes).
  

• Six sandpipers who were brave enough to let us watch them splash around in the waves. (Man, were they cute!)
  
• Five bucks for the Monkey Mochas Paul brought me each day from Bad Ass.
  
• Four days on the beach, floating in really cold water with Pablo.
  
• Three pots of tea with my mother and grandmother at Magnolia & Ivy, where we were encouraged to dress up in vintage hats, fur stoles, and gloves that came up nearly to our shoulders. (Stay tuned for pics.)
  
• Two trips to Fudpuckers, one of which included a particularly nice encounter with Nasty Nachos.
  
• One toll-booth operator who dispensed three minutes of marital advice to Pablo and me before he'd let us through the toll gate.
• One ginormous jellyfish that scared the bejeezus out of me. I made a hasty escape before the damn thing killed me. (P.S. That link goes to a kid's school report on jellyfish. It's pretty cute.)
• One necklace made in the car on the way home with beach-colored beads from Garden of Beadin'.
• And one palmetto bug — that's an all-time low for a Florida vacation!

Get an M.D.! (Cash required; brains optional.)

Kate's enlightening spam of the day:

Date: Tue, 11 Oct 2005 11:56:52 -0500
From: International College of Medicine
To: Kate's Ink
Reply-To: intlcollegeofmed@othle.com
Subject: Earn a M.D. Degree from a prestigious Eastern European University

International College of Medicine (ICMNIS) at the Medical Faculty of the University of Nis in Serbia is accepting applications from qualified high school students and students with 1 or 2 years of college for entry into the Winter 2006 and Fall 2006 semesters.

If you are a high school graduate or about to graduate from a high school with science and pre-med subjects Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Math, then you may qualify to enter into a 6 years (12 semester) on campus M.D. degree program of ICMNIS. Some clinical years may be completed at teaching hospitals in US, Canada and other European countries.

Seats are limited (accepting only 50 students per semester) from countries worldwide . Apply early for early acceptance . We are accepting applications on a rolling basis . Applications are being accepted online only . For more information, please visit our website at www.icmnis.com or email us to info.md.program@icmnis.com To apply online, please visit: www.regonline.co.uk/icmnis

University of Nis in Serbia is a public university, was established in 1960 and currently has approximately 25,000 students and is one of the leading institutes of higher learning in the Eastern Europe . University of Nis has medical faculty, law faculty, engineering faculty, business faculty and other science and arts faculties. The University Medical center is a well maintained 2,000 bed teaching hospital plus more than 100 satellite clinics.

The program is in English. Tuition is US $10,000 (US Ten Thousand Dollars) per academic year. Medical Faculty of the University of Nis has all the required approvals. Graduates are eligible to work in US, Canada , Europe and Asia . We also provide post-graduate training including M.S degree and PhD in various fields.

Serbia is a very safe place for Americans, Canadians, Europeans, Asians and people from any countries in the world. The city of Nis is approximately 150 km from Belgrade . There is a direct flight to Belgrade from many major cities in Europe including from London , Paris , Frankfurt , Zurich etc.

COME JOIN THE ICMNIS MEDICAL PROGRAM, LEARN DURING THE SEMESTERS AND ENJOY EUROPE DURING THE SEMESTER BREAKS . THIS WILL BE A REWARDING AND UNFORGETABLE EXPERIENCE FOR YOU . Plus you will earn a prestigious M.D degree that will significantly enhance your earning powers for the rest of your life.

International College of Medicine
Brace Taskovic 81
18,000 Nis, Serbia

This e-mail message is an advertisement and/or solicitation.

Wait! You mean to tell me that I have the fabulous option of moving to Serbia right out of high school for the low low price of $60,000 USD (plus airfare, accommodations, food and books)? And that I can study with faculty that have all their approvals?! WOW!

More about my vacation when my brain wakes up. ^_^

Second enlightening spam of the day...

... had this subject line:

"Doctor thinks you're millionaire necromancer"

I assure you I am neither.
My doctor can vouch for me.

Gorgeous, isn't it?

I wish you all could be here with us. I can't even begin to tell you how cleansing, how peaceful it's been. Paul and I have spent a lot of time just floating in the ocean on our floaty things and just relaxing. It's nice.

Eh, I've had to take a few Klonopin -- several -- because I'm still not used to dealing with my parents. When the pills wear off, I get grumpy. Then I take another one. My mother-in-law does the same thing when she goes to see family, so I don't feel so bad about it. :-)

Anyway, other than that, Paul and I have had a great time sleeping in, seeing the sites, splashing around, and in general, goofing off.

Love and hugs, guys. See you soon.

Hate pictures? Force a smile...

Sun goes down, Venus comes up

Oh yeah, did i mention the sunsets?

Weather is nice in florida.

Miles to go before I sleep...

This is the life. I'm sitting here, noshing on a ginormous cherry sno-cone — for which I made a special trip after work — and spinning around in little circles in my green plaid-upholstered office chair. I'm listening to this. I've been playing with this.

Tomorrow, after the eight-hour grind filling in for my out-of-town boss, Paul and I will drive to Destin. Little bro-in-law is moving in to watch the house. Should be a cakewalk because we have no pets and all my plants died.

Biggest obstacle between Memphis and Florida: The playlist. Yes, that's right. We've got 10 hours of dead space to fill with iPoddy goodness. I've loaded up 25 gigs of music (5,000 songs ... 179 hours of Coast to Coast ... the entire retroCRUSH archives [thanks, Smacky!] ... minibosses stuff ... etc.). I think we'll find plenty of stuff to amuse ourselves, but it's difficult sorting through 25 gigs to find what we want. ::grins::

I haven't packed. I haven't cleaned out my car. I haven't bought Dramamine. I haven't even decided what I'm going to wear. I suppose I should quit posting and start getting ready.

In a minute. This sno-cone is damn good.

P.S. Book is being published by a local imprint, Kerlak Publishing. There's a very small amount of info here. Unfortunately, the publishers have been AFK all summer (what? They have real lives? No way...) so I haven't seen press releases or promo copies. I assume that, since I edit for them now and again, they'll probably want me to write the press release. Sure. Whatever.

The books will be available at Barnes and Noble, Waldenbooks, Amazon ... pretty much any place that stocks Ingram imprints. It'll set ya back $14.95. There are an even 50 stories, I believe, including one that's about poop. No, really. The first line is "Josh liked to poop," and it must have the word poop in it a hundred times. (Out of a thousand words, a hundred "poops" is a lot of poop.)

Book alert!

My book has gone to press.

By the time I leave for Florida, I will be a published anthologist.

ISBN-10: 0-066074475; ISBN-13: 978-0-966074-47-5. Retail price is $14.95. More details to come when I calm down a bit. :-)

Eyes on the prize, Kate...

It took the doctor's office nearly eight hours to call me back on Monday ... but I felt vindicated. They agreed it was the flu (even though flu season hasn't officially begun). Turns out it's going around Paul's department, so we're not alone.

My fever peaked at 102.6 F Monday night. I'm still running a (slight) fever. Don't tell my boss.

I went into work for about three hours tonight after the place cleared out. I'm racing the clock now because I leave for Florida in a few days, and I've got to finish a few things before I go. I'll be back there bright and early in the morning. We'll see if I can make it until 5 p.m. before passing out on my keyboard.

That's the worst part about the flu. Having succumbed to the annual epidemic for the last three years, I can say from experience that the exhaustion lasts far longer than the symptoms. Of course, I go back to work as soon as I can (Walking germ factory? Who me?), but I don't feel up to par for a while after that.

The CDC says the exhaustion can last three or four weeks. Maybe some time on the beach will be just the remedy I need. ^_^

P.S. Monstee's poem made me cry. Stupid sweet poem. Stupid fever. ::grins::

Flu + Fever = Fluver?

According to the FDA, the symptoms of a cold are sneezing, a mild to moderate hacking cough, a stuffy nose, slight aches and pains, and mild fatigue.

The symptoms of the flu are high fever (mine's over 101F; Paul's is over 102F), prominent headache, severe aches, extreme exhaustion, coughing and chest discomfort.

We have the flu.

Today, I was feeling a little better, so I went out for a bit. I wanted to take advantage of a sale that ended today and we needed to pick up some more Robitussin gel thingies. I was gone no more than two hours, and it became apparent I needed to get home fast. I was exhausted (as Paul had been all weekend). It was the worst I'd felt in ... um, umm ... a while.

The pharmacist recommended Tylenol Cold & Flu and Claritin-D. Mom recommended we call the doctor, although typically colds and flu must run their course and the best one can do is to alleviate the symptoms. Mom actually made me cry, but I think it's because I have a fever and I really can't think straight. I told her I didn't feel like getting ready and I didn't feel like driving to the doctor and then she was like, "Well, you don't have to get all upset," and I just about lost it.

Paul called his research professor today; I called my boss' house and left a message on her machine. I'm sure it's not what she wanted to hear, but having experienced this before, if I go in sick, they make me turn around and go home. I'd prefer to close my door and get some work done ... but whatever. The office is paying for us to get flu shots. The nurse comes next Wednesday. I shouldn't have waited -- my asthma puts me in that high-risk category that's allowed to get shots early.

I've had the flu -- diagnosed by a doctor -- every year for the last three years. And three years ago, it turned into walking pneumonia. WTF is up with that? I take vitamins! Anywhere, I'm going back to bed to wonder why my immunity is permanently shot to hell and whether I should buy some of these.

P.S. Also, the cable box is broken. Stupid sickness. Stupid cable box. Stupid everything.

::sniffle::

Paul's sick. He's got a major cold with a fever and all that jazz. And I'm having an allergy attack. I swear that's all it is, even if he says it's not true. I am not rambling.

Shut up.