Why, I never!

Now that we've finished last-minute shopping and running to and fro to visit family, I can get back to blogging (I hope).

Paul and I went to my maternal grandmother's house on Christmas morning. Mom's stocking from Dad included a CD she wanted by trumpeter Chris Botti. We loaded the CD up, then went on to open gifts and eat breakfast. We're all sitting around the breakfast table, when Dad pipes up, "Do you like your Botti?" Everyone burst out laughing, leaving Dad looking bewildered. Mom finally stopped laughing long enough to say, "I guess, dear. It's the only one I've got." He assured us he meant B-O-T-T-I, not B-O-D-Y. Still, it's one of those conversations you don't want your parents to have in front of you. :-)

Goodbye trippy little window man

Everyone who regularly rides in my car or gazes upon it will be happy to note my baby's been washed and waxed. Cleaned inside and outside. Al, a nice Vietnam vet who washes cars in the office parking lot and makes friendly conversation with all the employees, did an absolutely fantastic job for $25. When I see him, he's getting a Christmas bonus.

I'm just kind of sad he washed the windows. He had no way of knowing the trippy window art was so special to me that I'd left it up there for two years. (Speaking of which, he must've had to really scrub to get that stuff off. Two years of paint baking in the sun?) It feels like the end of a vehicular era or something. I bet the meanie parking lot attendant is happy. Sometimes I'll catch him in the parking lot writing tickets for one of my coworkers, and he'll say in that I-sound-like-I'm joking-but-I'm-really-not voice, "When you gonna wash yer windows? I'll do it fer free." (Hurmph.)

I don't know why, but seeing my car look so normal makes me kind of lonely. Maybe one of my Very Kind and Thoughtful friends will get a package of Crayola Window Markers and redecorate the windows for me as a Christmas surprise (hint hint hint).

But, yeah, the car is clean. It looks fantastic. I'd be happy to ride in the no-longer-trashy back seat, but I'm usually driving. Funny how that works out.

La-La-La, Can't hear your stupid news

Just got back from my 3-month hematology checkup. and, hey, it's not lupus. ^_^ I won't have my anemia tests back for a few days, but I'm crossing my fingers that the iron/B12 are doing their job.

And that's the end of the good news. My CBC is ... less than desirable. White blood count is higher than it was in September. Granulocytes are higher than they were in September. And lymphocytes are officially out of the normal range now (though not much, thank goodness!).

Chronic leukocytosis generally, and chronic granulocytosis specifically.

At this point, you should watch this happy fun-time cartoon in which White Blood Cell, defender of the bloodstream, saves Christmas. Just think! If one white blood cell can save Christmas, then I alone can save several tens of thousands of holidays! The world will love me!



So, I guess I'm dancing around the real news, which is that the super-nice doc (who, incidentally, complimented me on my pendulum necklace and asked me all about editing) told me that, should my WBC go much higher -- I have actual numbers, but I won't bore you with them -- I will have to have a bone marrow biopsy. A biopsy. On my bone marrow. Ouch.

His exact words: "We know something's going on, but we don't know what." And from now on, I keep going back every three months so they can keep a close eye on things.

The doctor made it very clear that this is a watch-and-wait situation. If anything were really wrong, they wouldn't wait three months. Still, it's annoying knowing they've got to keep running tests until they figure out what's wrong (or until I lose my mind, whichever comes first). I can scratch leukemia and lupus off the list. As long as we get rule out the really crappy diseases, it's all good.

Tonight, Johanna and I are going to the Tigers basketball game. Happy, fun, non-work, non-doctor, just plain ol' good times. Just what I need.

Together again

Remember my childhood cat, Boots, that died in October? His big sister, Prissy, passed away Tuesday. She had been in poor health for a while, but Mom said she was really lonely after Boots died. I think Mom's pretty broken up over it. Prissy was about 18 years old. I just haven't wanted to post about it. It's like, when you write it down or see it on the screen, it's a little more real, and I don't want it to be real.

She only lasted two months without him. That's love.

She's working undercover for The Man

I own one copy of Fortean Times. Just one.

For those of you who have never heard of Fortean Times, let me fill you in a bit. It's a British monthly magazine subtitled "The World of Strange Phenomenon." It's published by the same folks behind Maxim, Computer Shopper and Men's Fitness. One recent article argues the existence of Nazi UFOs; another discusses giant, poisonous, Tremors-worthy worms underneath the Gobi.

Fortean Times' mission, according to its Web site, is to continue the work of one Charles Fort, who "... was skeptical about scientific explanations, observing how scientists argued according to their own beliefs rather than the rules of evidence and that inconvenient data was ignored, suppressed, discredited or explained away (which is quite different from explaining a thing)."

Mmhmm.

And before you think I'm crazy, I'll have you know I bought my copy of Fortean Times for next to nothing at Tower Records' bankruptcy sale. I also picked up a copy of Paranoia, which, among other articles, had the results of four MIT students' research (ahem) into the effectiveness of aluminum foil helmets.

My crazy conspiracy theory magazines were sitting on the back of the couch Sunday night when the kitten, Joe, jumped on top of them and started trying to cover them up, a la litterbox. I mean, she was going crazy digging at these magazines!

"Check it!" I told Paul, laughing. "Joe's trying to cover up the conspiracy theories. She must be working for The Man."

It was at that moment that Joe slipped off the couch, tumbled to the ground with the magazines, and accidentally sliced my finger wide open.

Or was it an accident at all? I'm starting to believe the fuzzy, cute exterior is just cover for Joe's real purpose: quelling the evil human dissidents.

So...About that

This is Paul, I am far too lazy to log out and log back in. So I will just post as Kate.

You may be wondering why Kate did not post. Well I do too, I think it was because we were busy and tired. Friday night we went to a party at Dish, it was pretty cool. Saturday night did something else (I forgot exactly what), and last night we went to the mall to do some Christmas shopping.

J.C. Penny's was having a pretty awesome sale, so naturally, we bought some stuff. But mainly for myself and Kate. I think we managed to get a christmas gift for somebody, but I can't remember.

Ok, post is over. Bye

Outlook: Changing

Man, an 11-hour day today. Seemed like every time I turned around, there was something else to do. And more things went wrong today than normally do, all of which left me with that productive-yet-slightly-unsatisfied feeling.

And then, I was in the car, reminding myself to chin up. Affirmation via Ani DiFranco circa 1996: "... The bathroom mirror has not budged, and the woman who lives there can tell the truth from the stuff that they say. And she looks me in the eye and says, 'Would you prefer the easy way? No? Well, okay, then don't cry.'" (If you haven't heard the song, read the whole thing.)

Now I'm on the couch, balancing a cat on one knee, a laptop on the other, watching Sex and the City, waiting for Paul to come home. As I told someone at work earlier, mindset changes everything. Take my field, for instance. Journalism can be a fast-paced, always evolving, mentally stimulating job or a very stressful, low-paying, overwhelming hellhole. All depends how you look at it.

And right now, I'm choosing to look at this moment as just what I need -- a chance to center myself. ... Sorry for a post that's more self-serving than usual, but I needed to get that out of my system.

Anyone else have a song or two that can completely change the direction of your day? And I don't just mean the self-affirming ones, because, frankly, tossing on some Metallica's Wherever I May Roam works for me too.

(Insert number here) days left until Christmas

Well, I sent a photo from my phonecam last night to the blog, but it didn't post. I resent it this morning and got an error message. The photo was not meant to be. I took it last night while Mom and I were at the University of Memphis Tigers' game against Marshall. Our first conference game, and we won 78-59!!

I can't believe it's Dec. 5. I have completed absolutely none of my holiday shopping. None. While this is par for the course for Paul, I usually have at least some of my gift-buying finished by now. I'm waffling between panic and nonchalance. I'm panicky because there's a lot to do and not much time to do it; I'm nonchalant because I'd much rather come home after work than fight the crowds at all the stores. What to do, what to do?

Go Tigers!

Dad's out of town, so Mom and I went to the Tigers b'ball game. They
just beat Marshall 78-59. My alma mater is smokin' this year. :-)

-- kate@katesink.com via the SideKick --
"The best way to have a good idea is to have lots of ideas." -- Linus
Pauling