PaPaYa Art

http://http://www.papayaart.com/category.jhtm?cid=2

my find of the day...papayaart.com. Love them :)

Long time no see!

I'm really sorry bout that, I've had a lot of catching up to do at home, and it's still not caught up. But I am still around somewhere, though not here too much. How's it going?

Me, I'm good. I've come out of the rough patch that was the summer of 09, and two months later, am in the 'looking forward to the winter of 09' stage.

We got our passports renewed! We're going on vacation. A real vacation, which includes a plane. The kids are beyond excited- they've never been on a plane, which is cool that we can do this. We talked about it for the past six or seven years, but never could go. This year, my husband booked our trip. We'll be spending Christmas on an island, and I may even hold back on the SPF a day or so, just to come back to the tundra with a wee bit of sun. :)

We needed to counter the stress with something happy, and I'm thrilled.

My transmission is going out on the jeep. It stalls out at red lights and stop signs so I have to crank it back up when the light turns green. I went on Autotrader looking up minivans, with the common white honda odyssey being the ideal, then going downhill from there. I found a Nissan Quest with not too many miles, and called about it. The trade in value on my jeep is $500!

My husband said he'd sooner but a brick on the gas and roll it off an cliff somewhere. (We won't). But then, while looking up used vans, I just glanced a wee bit at the Volvo XC90- what I would drive if I could just click my heels. "Why don't we just get that?" he says. He's sweet, and perhaps overly optimistic.

Dr. Oz was on this week, with his audience member assistant. Where is the triangle of death? he says. Turns out, it's your nose. Picking it is bad- he went on pretty convincingly, but I am too tired to elaborate. Already, I am aware I spend too much time in there, so I am going to do my best to cut back.

Dr. Oz. ha.

I've noticed little things since I've had surgery, and for those of you who read this that are about to have a craniotomy, I'll throw it in.

A few times a week I'd bump my teeth really hard with my coffee cup. Sometimes I just turn the cup before I get to my teeth and pour my drink on my shirt. I think this is common and no big deal, so if this happens to you just bring the cup to your face more slowly, or buy a mouthguard. I'm kidding about the mouthguard.

I'm a little dopier, but I'm trying. I haven't taken any kind of medication (including over the counter stuff like advil) since about two weeks after surgery, and I'm doing great!

I painted my toenails for the first time since I had surgery this week. Essie Rock the Croc Red.

Great color. (Essie makes awesome nail polish. It does not chip. Ever.)

Well, i just wanted to drop in. ;)

my love

my love

Random thoughts...

I'm having difficulty getting my 10 year old to go along with our Halloween plans. She thinks she's absolutely too grown.
"Can't I be a witch or a fairy?" she tells me. No. No, No, No. This year, we're going as a group project, we're building a special memory. Her trick or treating years are limited, isn't it a great idea to start building a special memory? And perhaps it's the toil of '09 that's made a family changed, we've been given a new sense of urgency & appreciation; Appreciation for things we would never do, and also things we said we may one day do but never took seriously.
We're in a way now forced to take life less seriously, because the fact is one of the greatest parts of taking life more seriously is taking it less so. (Yes, there you have my thought for the day. In order to take life more seriously, you must take it less seriously. It makes sense after awhile.)
Because sometimes folks stifle their joy in order to be serious.
So I believe we're going to have to pay her. She says she'll do it for $100, but we think it's steep. I have a month to talk her down to $25. Honestly though, if Steven can agree be Tinky Winky, then what's she got to worry about? (That's right, baby, there's four of us & four of them.)
With insurance and hospital bills, brain surgery and its after effects, is it so wrong to want to have one trivial afternoon? One day to be silly? Hmmm.
I had this strange dream last night. I was out with friends, shopping or hanging out (which is strange, because I do not have friends with which I shop or hang out. Not one, let alone 3-4. I'm honestly not that friendly. And perhaps living in the South, when someone fails to convert me to their religion, I get frequently sacked. It's no big deal.)
Oh! So anyhow, these friends and I go to an Indian Restaurant. I'm a huge fan of Indian food, so this is pretty normal. But then I'm glancing over the menu, and notice a strange item.

Raccoon Curry

"Is that actual raccoon?" I ask the waitress. "Yes," she informs me, "it is real raccoon in a curry sauce." Oooh, I am thinking and discussing with my friends, about to order the exotic feast! "I've never had raccoon before!"

Then I woke up.

Completely the end of my raccoon tasting experience. They say dreams are suppose to teach you something, or maybe they're symbols. I wonder what Raccoon Curry means, and for some strange reason the idea of it doesn't completely offend me.

My mother mentioned today she wants to read my blog. "How do I get to it?" she asks. Hmmm.

My sister brought us supper today (thanks, you rock!) and sat next to me at the table while mom repeated her eloquent reading of David Sedaris, this time a chapter from Holidays On Ice. That's where her money be, I tell her. Sedaris books on tape in her priceless accent. It's a money idea. Though this chapter ended with a baby named Satan Speaks washed and dried in a machine. Not very holiday friendly, Mr. Sedaris. Just plain wrong! Hope the next chapter, entitled Dinah, the Christmas Whore, is easier for my mother to read. :)

Thanks for stopping in ~ Have a really great day...

Rest in Peace Halle

Hello!

Just wanted to stop in for a moment. I'm still recovering, but better each day. My left eye, still gimpy. I've informed my husband he's now in charge of shaving my left armpit, I just can't see it. I go back to my NS next week, and he may possibly clear me for driving. It scares me a little since my vision is so bad, and they tell me it may take three months for this eye to heal. But I may be back in traffic next week (?) . Part of me needs to, I'm out of canvas, and no one will buy it.

When I look in the mirror, the hair sorta reminds me of when Naomi cut the ponytail off the front of her head. Like a childs first do it yourself haircut, lol! It's okay.

We're having a funeral for our cat today. She was sitting in the lawn watching the birds at the birdfeeder, and a pit bull and another dog came and killed her. She'd been our cat for almost seven years. I've had a sick feeling in my stomach all day. I'll miss her big orange moony eyes, and I suppose now it could be you'll think I'm one of those weird cat people, but here's a video of my sweet cat from last year on YouTube-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ro2L_7lj1j0

I just don't feel well. Rest in Peace, Miss Halle Berry.

You were a good cat, and black cats are highly underrated.

Home Again

I'm home!

Can't say I'll be extremely productive, as I have a gimpy eye for a while, and typing with one eye is currently challenging. Seems they cut certain muscles in your face when you have brain surgery, and these include muscles that connect to your jaw and make chewing and yawning painful, and muscles to the eye on that side that make your eyelid funny and the eye is in a painful mode right now, but in another month I've been told it'll all be normal again.

The hair surprisingly doesn't bother me in the least. My mother tells me the scar is a 9" question mark across the top of my head. Funny. If anyone were to have a question mark carved into their scull, it figures it would be me. It's okay.

Today I get to shower.
For the first time.
Since I left. I have been able to sit in a shower chair a couple times and clean myself, but the idea of running water on my head wasn't possible until today. Friday they pulled the staples out of my head. I brought a sandwich bag as I felt it was necessary to keep them.

I'm eager to be myself again. I'm eager to shop, and drive, and paint. I'm eager to put my makeup on though my husband tells me I don't need it. Considering I cannot leave the house for another month, I guess I won't stress about the makeup too much. I'm not able to read at the moment, but my mother has been humouring me, reading David Sedaris books to me outloud in her perfect for books on tape French accent. Everyone should be so lucky. It's especially funny when she reads words like 'fucking', it makes me happy to hear my mother read this out loud, and my husband even snuck in and sat listening, commenting how funny it was that she read those words out loud. She tells him she can't leave any words out.

This is how precious mon mere is.

I hope that I'll be talking about something else soon, trust that I'm as eager to get over this consuming mess as anyone. I can walk myself to the bathroom. I had to get to this point, as there was a time people were holding bendy straws to my face and feeding my with spoons. I've made lots of progress. I can open both my eyes, but one gives me vertigo.

Sleeping is strange as I cannot turn over on that side. The nurse told me it was fine to wear a scarf in the event that I would be out in public and may shock people. I never considered the other people as far as this matter; I don't care much if I shock someone. My husband tells me that's a benefit of having a giant scar on your head. He's funny. I think soon I may have to paint a self portrait with my question mark head. I was painting a geisha before I went to the hospital.

I don't talk about the painting too much, as I am not the most confident in that area...but I enjoy it and will come back with crazy vigor when I can see.

I'm okay. & I'm getting better everyday. Thanks for stopping in :)

so I'm off

One thing I noticed about hospital parking decks,
the rear view mirrors full of raggedy stuffed animals.
Car after car of them.
& sick people.
& today before I leave I resent both the sick people
and the rearview mirrors with their tigers
and kittens and doggy plushies.

I feel a wave of hostility and I cannot explain why.
& I cannot imagine 5 days in a hospital.
How am I gonna crap when I'm not in the comfort of my own
sweet john?
I'll be so stopped up. Stopped up, stapled. bald.

Steven says going in the hospital is just like having the girls.
"sure, I say, but without the baby."
I have to leave now.

The baby brings me her pink elephant plushie
& I'm taking it with me, loved & holey, ketchup stained.
But that doesn't make me the rear window lady.

I have to go now.

Stay Salty, Stay Funky. (that's the Kettle Chip logo, but I likes!)