June 2006

Blogging will return tomorrow (Tuesday).

Today I am being all angsty about Coffee’s Permanent Residence interview, which takes place tomorrow at 9 a.m. EST, so I’m sparing everyone the trouble of talking me down off the ledge. Because I don’t need to be on this ledge, of course, but my brain LIKES angst.

Please send good vibes for Canadian-ness to my favouritest person in the world, ok? Many thanks.

See y’tomorrow!

Having enjoyed a sweet delicious taste,
And having sometimes tasted what is bitter,
Do not greedily enjoy the sweet taste,
Do not feel aversion toward the bitter.
When touched by pleasant contact, do not be enthralled,
Do not tremble when touched by pain.
Look evenly on both the pleasant and painful,
Not drawn or repelled by anything.

-Buddha, “The Connected Discourses of the Buddha”

It would appear that I am confusing people with my constant references to the hallowed day of my birth.

There are still 23 days to get through before the blessed event (July 16th) which means you still have plenty of time to think of something witty yet heartfelt to write here in my comments. Or on a card. Or whatever YOU do to mark my birthday. (I vote for eating a lot of chocolate, perhaps getting ridiculously drunk, and definitely making an ass out of yourself in honour of my increasing age. You have my permission.)

For my part, I will eat cake until it comes out my ears. I will indulge in carnal pleasures. I will sleep late.

Really, the cake is the only thing different from every other day in my life. But the cake? It makes all the difference.

Whenever I’ve taken medication with a possible side effect of “may make you drowsy” I’ve always kind of giggled. It’s never happened. I laugh in the face of “do not operate heavy machinery” and “use caution when operating motor vehicles”.

The spironolactone, however, should have come with a warning that read, “will make you wonder if you’ve developed narcolepsy because every time you sit down and relax for thirty seconds you will fall into a glorious deep sleep – make sure your head is properly supported, ok?” instead of “may make you drowsy”.

Drowsy implies a little bit of sleepiness in my world. What I had this afternoon was better classified as a coma.

And oh, look, it’s time for my second dose of the day!

High Potassium Foods That I Am Not Allowed to Eat.

Fruits:

* Apricots, canned and fresh
* Banana
* Cantaloupe
* Dried fruits – apricots, dates, figs, prunes
* Honeydew melon
* Kiwi
* Nectarine
* Orange
* Orange Juice
* Pear, fresh
* Prune Juice

Vegetables

* Asparagus
* Avocado
* Bamboo Shoots
* Beets
* Beet Greens
* Brussels Sprouts
* Cabbage, Chinese
* Celery
* Chard
* Kohlrabi
* Okra
* Pepper, Chili
* Potatoes, white and sweet
* Pumpkin
* Rutabaga
* Spinach, cooked
* Squash, winter
* Tomato
* Tomato sauce
* Tomato juice
* Vegetable juice cocktail

Legumes

* Black-eyed Peas
* Chick Peas
* Lentils
* Lima Beans
* Navy Beans
* Red Kidney Beans
* Soybeans
* Split Peas

Nuts and Seeds

* Almonds
* Brazil Nuts
* Cashews
* Peanuts
* Peanut Butter
* Pecans
* Pumpkin Seeds
* Sunflower Seeds
* Walnuts

Breads and Cereals

* Bran
* Whole Grain

Miscellaneous

* Chocolate
* Cocoa
* Coconut
* Milk and Milk Products
* Molasses
* Substitute Salt

A few weeks ago, I got a flyer in the mail for online continuing education courses through a local university. I was drawn to the vast selection (okay, maybe ten) of writing classes. The list included creative writing, technical writing, effective business writing and something about editing.

I got a little worked up (read: hysterical with joy) when I spied one called “Writing for Magazine Publication“. I believe it took me a mere 37 seconds to whip out my credit card and sign myself up. The course started yesterday.

Perhaps I haven’t mentioned it (enough) here, but it has long been my dream to have my drivel published in one of my favourite magazines. While a normal person would settle for a barely-known ‘zine for her first attempt at a writing gig, I have my sights set on Bust. Because Bust rocks and if I was published in Bust, in any capacity, I’d scream with glee and then have to lie down with a cold cloth on my forehead lest my brain explode. How many more times can I say “Bust”?

Bust! Bust! BUST!

Please note, also, that I have already assumed I’ll be FABULOUS at this course and that Bust will be slavering over my (as yet unwritten) work. I call this “self-confidence”, though I think the technical term is “delusions of grandeur” and there’s probably a medication I’m supposed to take for that.

The first bit of advice we received – in our introductory class – is that inspiration for articles can come from anywhere. We could be walking down the street, minding our own business, when suddenly we know without question that we are meant to write an article about .. lawn care. Or bocci. Or perhaps the lifecyle of trees. We could be strolling through the mall when we’re struck with the realization that the world needs more articles on why teenage girls show off their belly buttons. Or how to demand a refund on an outfit that made our thighs look lumpy. The gist of the first lesson was that it pays to carry a pen and paper everywhere you go so you can quickly dash off little notes to yourself about..stuff. I can handle this.

The articles I want to write are a little.. different. There is no lawn-care in my future, nor is there any dissection of current fashion trends. Instead, I have some ideas in my head pertaining to the cultivation of marijuana in suburban homes (I think I have a neighbour I can interview for this), whether it’s wounding to an animal’s spirit to be referred to as “the little asshole” (I intend to interview the Beag for that one) and whether having a penis will someday be considered a birth defect (apparently the birth rate for males is declining in North America) (I don’t know who I’ll interview for that one. I’ll get back to you.)

Don’t you wish I was already published? I mean, wouldn’t YOU read this stuff?

All of the students were required to post a brief ‘intro’ on the private message board. I am using my keen powers of observation to analyze my fellow students and I can already foresee one who will be writing endless articles about her tiny dogs (who she referred to as her five “children”), one who will most certainly attempt to entertain us with anecdotes about her health problems (I should get along JUST FINE with her) and one who already has self-esteem problems and has bemoaned that the rest of us are SO FAR AHEAD of her in writing ability. I want to know her better because clearly she’s psychic. I read all the intros and none of them are more than 2 paragraphs – and most of them had some impressive spelling errors. Let’s not discuss grammar.

I’ll let all of you know when my first article will be published. I figure it should be, oh, sometime next week because I am THAT GOOD.

I hope there’s a portion of the class pertaining to “realistic expectations”. I’m totally going to ace that part, too.

The endocrinologist was.. fabulous. That makes two people, in two days, that I would happily tongue-kiss just because they made me happy. (Apparently I get a little crazy when I’m happy.) Honestly, I’d also like to tongue-kiss everyone who left a comment on my Sasquatch Girl entry because ALL of you made me feel so much better about my (not-so)freaky self.

I expected the usual in-and-out appointment this morning, along the lines of: tell me the problem, okay, okay, yep, here’s a drug, see you in a few months.. I’ve got other patients to see now! Have a nice day!

Instead, much to my glee, I got a little over an hour of serious discussion about ovaries and hair and hormones and PCOS and nutrition and weight and heart health and.. he charmed me with his pronouncement that I was very clearly well-educated in medical issues and a generally intelligent woman. Did I have any medical training?

No, I said, I’ve got the INTERNET. And the internet is WAY better than MED SCHOOL.

With the exception of when I’m about to get lucky, which is when my clothes somehow magically detach themselves from my body and fly around the room, I have never whipped clothing off my body so willingly and quickly as when he said he wanted to take a look at what was going on. He checked out the hair patterns, made sure I wasn’t growing a penis (or, uh, an enlarged clit) and wrote up some blood requisitions, too.

He noted that I’m in very good shape – physically – and when I said I wanted to lose weight he said it was clearly only for cosmetic reasons because, obviously-to-him, I’m in great shape. All the blood work that was forwarded to him was excellent, and my blood pressure was ideal this morning.

After talking about whether or not I wanted to get pregnant (which I don’t), he wrote up an Rx for low dose birth control pills and Aldactone. He swore, on his life, that if I gained any weight or turned into a crazy woman on the birth control pills, he’d let me stop taking them immediately and we’d try something else.

(Sidenote: It’s always nice when you don’t have to literally toss your doctor to the ground, pin his arm behind his back while kneeling on his kidneys and threaten his life in order to make your point clear. )

I can start the drugs today, and will, and in two weeks I go to have more blood work done to see how the Aldactone is impacting my potassium levels. After that, I commence the 24-hour urine collection. I get to pee in a jug for 24 hours! Could this BE any more fun? (Don’t answer that; I know it CAN be and I know how minimally traumatic peeing in a jug will be when compared.)

I was cautioned that it will take a few months for the drugs to work properly, and that I should stop shaving any hair I’ve got and start waxing/lasering. It will allow us to see how well the drugs are working by demonstrating exactly how well the follicles grow back (or don’t, if all goes well) and we can adjust things as needed in February when I return.

All told: I felt listened to, I felt like someone was taking me seriously, I felt good about everything that was said, I got to ask a lot of questions, and I am very very happy. There is hope and, well, that’s a beautiful thing.

On that note, however, I must go out and get the Rx’s filled before I forget. Mustn’t waste a single second here – there’s hair growing EVEN AS I TYPE THIS! ;)

Apparently they’re.. frisky.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Since it’s my birthday this week, I decided to take a break from business as usual. That’s why I outsourced the writing of our Cancerian horoscope to an astrologer in Bangladesh, Farhana Rasel. Here’s what she came up with: It is an auspicious time to use the good will you have accumulated through your generous deeds. You should ask for favors from people who have enjoyed your favors, and coast along on the currents of the good karma you have set in motion. Luck will be on your side if you permit yourself an excursion into the naughty mysteries of enlightened narcissism. You will be given more slack than usual, especially if you have the nerve to demand it.

(Freewill Astrology)

Here are some of the blogs I’ve recently started reading. (I like to share.) Some I found because their authors left comments in my blog (that makes me giddy – new links AND comments!) and some I found because I followed links on other people’s pages. They’re still new to me, so I feel like I’m offering to loan you a book that I’ve only partially read…

Regardless, here they are:

• Lone Sophist
• Lala Land
• A Peek Inside the Fishbowl
• Creampuff Revolution
• Being Amber Rhea
• Russellville Rambler
• Silver Creek Musings
• Hello Josephine
• Life in the ‘Shwa
• Trattoria Breve
• Joy Unexpected
• Fetch Me My Axe