Ugh

To my overwhelming joy and happiness, I've started having anxiety attacks. I know, yay me. They are not the really horrible ones, just worrisome enough to get my attention and let me know that hey, you're not handling the stress in your life very well right now. Yes, I've been to the doctor and yes, we're working to find something that works.

The only reason I'm sharing this is that I may be posting a bit less as I work through this current wrinkle in my life. The meds the doctor has put me on is making me sleepy all the time, and that is so not going to work with work. There will probably be some adjusting and tweaking going on. The last time this happened to me, my writing fell way by the wayside, so that is a concern too. Writing is often very cathartic and I don't want to loose that outlet.

So with any luck, this will be a short-term thing. If I'm loopier than normal, we'll just blame the meds.

And I'd love to hear about any reader recommendations for something light and funny to read.

Ohio, Take Care of My Sister

Well, we moved my sister #1 to Ohio over the weekend. The weather was decent (especially for January!) and we had help.

Hopefully all the worrying was for nothing. Her apartment is CUTE and she has a view of the pond behind the complex. It's bigger than she thought so DH and I will bring some more of her stuff that she didn't think she had room for in a few weeks. As an extra bonus, both Mom and Dad came up to help and stayed an extra day or two to help her unpack.

She's found the grocery store and the Barnes and Noble, so far, so good!

Next on the agenda ... I wonder if she needs a pet? Maybe a fish or a hamster or something ...

Dammit Doll

This is a Dammit Doll. It was given to me on my first day at the bank. I should have taken that as a sign, right?

Anyway, you use it by whacking it against your desk to relieve stress.

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT GRAB THE LEGS AND PULL APART. For some reason this upset the men I worked with.

And no, I don't know why it's the shape it is. It probably makes a good voodoo doll oo.

Another Adventure Begins

Well, we're shipping my sister off to Ohio tomorrow. Last Thursday she got the call she'd been waiting for about where she would be placed after her manager training with Bob Evans was completed. Unfortunately, it wasn't in Indiana like she'd hoped, but the good news she is still closer to us than some parts of the state. She'll be three hours from me and still about six hours from Mom and Dad. All in all, no too bad. Especially since she passed that critical 48 hour freak-out period. That was fun.

Dad came up yesterday to help. Hopefully we can keep him in a supervisory capacity since he is still nursing a sore knee. DH enlisted the help of the BIL - yes, that BIL - so hopefully the guys can handle most the heavy stuff. All I'm going to say on that is that it sure makes it hard to hold a grudge when someone volunteers to do something nice like this, so maybe he's trying. That, and I really love his wife, DH's sister.

Sister #2 sent a couple of emails out to close family to let them know what's going on and one of our Dad's cousins said he wasn't doing anything and volunteered to help. That's pretty cool too. Add to the mix my mother, who is driving up Saturday, and maybe my DSS, if his mom isn't being a horse's patout.

So with this cast of thousands, hopefully there is room for everyone to actually carry stuff down a flight of stairs and into the moving van. Sister #1 (the one who's moving) said her new place is smaller than her current apartment, so getting stuff moved in is going to be an adventure in itself. At least the new place is downstairs.

Wish us luck!

Lost Treasure, First Snow, Inigo Montoya and Shipping My Sister to Ohio

On to better things, right?

We moved into our rental house almost a year ago and we are still going through boxes. Most of it's paper because I am the world's worst filer ever. At home that is. Because at work I'm pretty up on it all.

Anyway, DH found some papers of mine that had fallen out of a file. They were short scenes and story ideas. Since I'm currently out of my TBR (to be read) pile, I've been going through them.

Some are really, really bad. Some are "Hmm. Watch CSI much?" Others are "What were you reading when you came up with that?" And there was one "OHMYGOD, don't let DSS see this." Heck, I'd be embarrassed to have DH read that scene, and trust me, he'd probably be interested.

But my favorite finds were those little golden nuggets, those scenes of "so THAT'S where that went," those little sparks that helped me flesh out the characters of my manuscript. While most will never see the light of day, some scenes are like my own personal chapters of a day in the life of my book.

Other stuff: Stressors are high lately, so I was over the moon to see that the Princess Bride was on TV. I watched it again - twice.

We finally got snow - and naturally everyone freaked. You know, "the sky is falling" mentality. Gee, I'm glad we didn't get more than an inch of the white stuff. Of course, I grew up in a lake effect area off Lake Michigan and I think most of the drivers around here are a bunch of weenies. I got my driver's license in the dead of winter. And don't get me started on whoever is in charge of plowing the roads. When I first moved here, I swore everyone was a transplant from the south. If you begin to slide, your car becomes a big comfy toboggan. So remember your sledding skills. Of course, you can't really bail if things start to go south ...

Sister #1 just found out she has one week to relocate to Dayton, Ohio. Since I think she's past the major freak-out over the weekend, I think she'll be OK now. But if anyone is from the area and has any suggestions for someone new to Ohio, things to do, places to see, things to avoid, please drop me a line and I'll pass it along.

And sometimes sucky things happen too

Wasn't it Shakespear who said, "Let's kill all the lawyers?" At least, that's what I've heard. Maybe it's just one of those famous misquotes.

I hate this stuff. This was on our child support hearing. We hired a lawyer to cover our behinds and still got @#$%. Basically, we were given papers to turn over DH's income from the past three years to determine if an increase in child support payments was warranted. Since this same prosecuting attorney (don't worry, that's a normal part of the process) messed things up last time, we consulted our own attorney. We got a letter back from our attorney, saying this was the other attorney's reply and if there are any questions, please call. The letter was rather vague, so we called to ask if it was his opinion that this was a fair amount. The response we received was a request for more information. We supplied that and then didn't hear anything else.

We never heard that the matter was settled. We had to call our attorney several times before we received a response, and then we were told that the hearing was still on and our attorney was unavailable. And the hearing is this morning.

Gee, thanks for nothing. The entire point was to negotiate and avoid going to court to begin with. We were never opposed to paying more if it was fair (and of course nobody wants to). Now we will be responsible for her court costs as well.

Arghgrrrrrrrrr!

Sorry to be venting again, but I am so frustrated with the whole legal thing. I am so tired right now.

And the kicker? The ex, after crying and complaining about how much difficulty she is having financially, hence the whole child support thing, just drove back from a week's vacation in Florida. You know, a few days at Disney and a few days at Sea World for her and the kids, staying at one of the resorts. Kinda makes you want to be a welfare mom too, doesn't it?

A Good Read & a PS

I know, I know. Why aren't you writing??!

Because I'm a book addict, that's why. If I hadn't picked up a book from the library, I would have reread something from my stacks at home. And I just reread virtually everything. I finished my Calvin and Hobbs anthology last week. It was a nice jaunt down memory lane too.

I think it was on the CB Bar and Grill blog that someone mentioned an anthology called "Valentine's Day is Killing Me" with MaryJanice Davidson. Yes, "Cuffs and Coffee Breaks" was a hoot and she got our emailing culture down to a T. Cruising the stacks, I found another gem of hers called, "The Royal Treatment." I'm almost half way through and I've lost track of the number of times I've laughed out loud.

Yes, I'm plugging a book I haven't finished yet. I like it that much.

And I love Edmund. He is officially my current favorite supporting character. He's snarky and sarcastic as hell.

Go check it out.

PS: I finished the book. Still like it.

I have a question though. Well, first a comment. I am such a sheep. First reaction, I really liked "The Royal Treatment." Then I read other people's thoughts of some other books. And naturally I started to think. Always a bad sign. I don't like whiners either. I didn't think the heroine was that bad, but she wasn't my favorite character either. Edmund is still one of my all-time favorite secondary characters. Come on, his response the the "off with his head" order still makes me LOLROTFLMAO.

But still it reminded me of how on Will & Grace, my favorite characters were Jack and Karen.

It seems I've always done this. Start with my own opinion, then when I hear other people's thoughts on the same thing, I start to doubt myself. Maybe I latch on to the positive and immediately forget the so-so stuff. I mean, really. Is it worth getting worked up about? And I do have my wall-thumper reads. Trust me.

Maybe I just don't think everything though as thoroughly as I should before I open my mouth. And I'm not bringing this up because others have voiced their opinions. Good grief, I'd be the most unilluminated person on the planet if they didn't. Maybe it's bothering me because it takes me so long to formulate a thought I'm happy with to throw out into the fray. Then someone says something and I see a hole in what I've said, and have to think about it some more. And as a matter of fact, I was horrible at debate. It would take me a week to get through an argument.

You know, I actually had a question when I started this PS. Now I think I'll just end it with this. Teach me. Illuminate me. Turn on that light bulb hovering over my head. Tell me your point of view and why. Go ahead and prove me wrong, but back it up.

And don't forget the chocolate. There are wonderful thought-provoking properties of chocolate that add to the thinking process.

Nice things do still happen

On my way home last night, I saw that my sister had called. I called her back to see what was up. She told me that she went to see her friend in LaPorte. Now since the friend is a force unto herself and my sister’s stories about her are always entertaining, I asked what happened this time.

Turns out the friend had a chance to be a part of something pretty amazing.

There is a family that my family grew up with from church. I was in Pre-Calc with their oldest son and in band with the middle son. My middle sister was in band with the middle son and my youngest sister had classes with their youngest son.

Awhile back, we heard the news that the youngest son was diagnosed with cancer. I won’t pretend I know even the basic information about what type of cancer it is or what stages mean what. All I know is that it was bad and we were basically told he only had a few months left.

You hear news like that and sometimes it truly rocks your world. We are talking about a young man, recently married and a new father with literally his entire life ahead of him. He is my youngest sister’s age (29). His family grew up with mine. And I kept thinking, “How do you deal with something like this?”

The months have gone by (maybe even a year now) and he’s still with us, some might say miraculously. My sister told me that he set three goals for himself. He wanted to marry, become a father, and get his college degree.

In the past few weeks, his condition took a turn for the worse. I cannot imagine what it must be like to call your family and say that it might be your last Christmas.

This December, he reached his third goal. He achieved his Engineering Degree from Purdue University at the North Central Campus. He pressed on through the chemo, and the radiation treatments and bad days. And he made it happen. There was one problem though. There were too few graduates with that particular degree and the graduation ceremony for them would not be held until Spring Commencement. And with typical grace, he said, if that was what he had to do, that’s what he would do.

Knowing there was a chance he might not be there to walk across that stage come May.

While he and his family took a mini-vacation and had some well-deserved family time, a plan was set into motion. Nothing could be done about the December graduation ceremony at that point, but friends and co-workers contacted the Chancellor at PNC and explained the situation. And the man simply said, “Tell me the date and I will clear my calendar. I’ll be there.”

And so they arranged for a personal graduation ceremony for him at the courthouse where he worked. His wife brought his cap and gown. They had programs printed up, just like at the official ceremony. The mayor gave a speech. The Chancellor gave a speech. The graduation cake had the Purdue insignia on it.

My sister’s friend is a photographer. She found out about the impromptu ceremony from the young man’s mom, dropped everything and photographed the event. Because it was the holidays, his parents and his brothers were all in town and able to attend.

A lot of people did any number of kindnesses to make that graduation happen. It wasn’t national news, but it was his day, and that was all that mattered.

I didn’t name names because I haven’t spoken with the family or the friend about sharing this story. And knowing them, especially in this difficult time, they may want a little privacy. I cannot imagine what day to day life is like for them, knowing everything could change in a moment’s notice. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have everyone know you are going to die. Perhaps it is the simple idea of celebrating life as we live it and not dwelling on missing someone before they are gone.

What I do know is that this remarkable young man has managed to pack his life full of blessings and good people. He probably doesn’t even know me, and yet his story has touched me in ways I cannot describe.

God Bless, to you and yours, and everyone who has passed a kindness on.

The Theme (And the One Sentence Idea)

I have committed myself (ha ha, no, not that way) to the He Wrote/She Wrote On-line Writing Course. I have a manuscript that I’ve been tossing about for the past few years that I’ve never really finished. I don’t mean it needs a little work. I mean the scaffolding is still up for all to see. And somewhere in the mess I call my Work in Progress, I’ve lost my original ending. Oh, I know what the ending is. In fact, I’m pretty sure my best friend has the original oh-my-bob-what-was-I-thinking version somewhere. I think it was actually typed, as in on a typewriter. For some reason, I don’t seem to have it down in a file or hardcopy anywhere.

Time to make a change. Besides, there are these other ideas clamoring away in my head, wanting to see the light of day too.

The first lesson is about your theme. You gotta have one. Love Conquers All. Men Can Be Idiots. Women Can Be Idiots Too. Work (And/Or Love) Sucks. Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Grocery Store Today. Something that gives a springboard for what the work is about.

Turns out, mine sucked. The big rotten egg too.

My WIP, in its current state, is a hopeless tangle of scenes. Picture a big, unravelled ball of yarn. There is potential there, but in the meanwhile, yikes. I write in scenes because that’s how I see the story. I hear conversation, and see a place. Something happens that keys my interest. That, and there is a demanding little person in my head screaming, “WRITE IT DOWN, DUMMY.” Unfortunately, this method of writing isn’t very conductive to a strong plot.

Witty conversation is great (not that mine is), but without a plot to hold it together, you might as well just have a series of index cards. Each has something to add, but it’s not exactly a good read.

So, here are my attempts at my homework:

The One Sentence Idea

A woman tries to balance her life as a physician with her father’s attempts to marry her off to the neighbor.
Ok, except dear old Dad isn’t really that much of a focal character. Yes, he would like to see his daughter married, but really the main characters are our lady doctor, her best friend, our hero and his twin brother.

A woman tries to reconcile the memories of the boy she once knew with the man now wrecking havoc in her life.
Better. There really isn’t anything quite like someone who’s known you your entire life. Still, not quite what I want.

Resigned to spinsterhood, a young lady physician is drawn into a web of mystery and murder as she is tempted by her childhood companion’s tantalizing offer: marriage, family, and resources to continue her work.
At first, I liked this. Then I realized it sounded like our hero might be trying to off our heroine.

A lady physician must decide if she dares to reach for the brass ring: her own practice and a family of her own.
A bit of feminist Catch-22. Fight for having choices, then be maligned for making one that falls into the traditional category. That, and I really don’t want to add the Suffragettes at this point. I have a tendency to create a cast of thousands as it is.

Bachelor taps Lady Physician to Play Matchmaker – Film at 11.
Ok, I’m getting punchy at this point.

Double Trouble: Twins vie for Lady Doctor’s hand
Methinks I’ve read too many tabloid headlines at the check out line.

Terrible Twins: Lady Doc finds herself engaged to one and in danger of strangling the other.
Close to what is actually going on, but not exactly an OSI. And too headline-y too.

These next two are my top picks. I’m leaning towards the last one:

Having spectacularly ended his engagement to another several years before, a woman finds herself playing matchmaker for society’s most sought-after bachelor – and yearning to fill the position herself.

An exiled lady physician returns to her home town only to find herself knee-deep in mystery and wedding proposals, neither of which are appreciated by her impromptu fiancé.

The main plot is about the developing romance between our lady physician and her hero. The subplot is the mystery that seemingly follows and intensifies as the romance progresses.

Now as for the theme, I am thinking along the lines of No Guts, No Glory or True Love Is Not For The Faint-Of-Heart. Hmm. Still needs work.

And with that, I will call it a wrap.

For now. You know how Works In Progress are …

Gee, this is starting well ...

Lord, grant me the strength to change what I can, cope with what I cannot, and the wisdom not to strangle DH in the meanwhile ...

First, let me say I was clearly medicated, and therefore not in my right mind.

Yeah, right. And the Twinkie defense is believable too. Of course, perhaps if I had eaten a Twinkie, maybe I could have avoiding the entire episode. You know, the miraculous healing powers of Twinkies. Yes, Virginia. In the absence of chocolate, a Twinkie will do.

First, let us get this out of the way: I am a horrible, self-centered person. How I ended up with DH, a true near-GAM, I do not know.

And just how does DH not reach the pinnacle of all that is good, full GAM status? He doesn't read minds. Which, of course, is central to our story, which I really am getting to.

*sigh*

For New Year's Eve, DH and I were invited to his aunt's house in Illinois. This aunt is his father's sister, and DH has been estranged from his father's side of the family for about fifteen years, since his parents' divorce. Let's just say there is some serious Jerry Springer stuff that I won't go into here. The aunt who invited us, also estranged from DH's father, is making some serious efforts to extend the olive branch and try to mend rifts between the innocents in the whole picture. DH turned down her invites in the past. He accepted this one.

All noble efforts aside, spending New Year's Eve in a house full of people I don't know, two hours away from home, wasn't something I was really looking forward to. But since this was a major deal for him, I said OK.

OK, this is where I was a bad person. I secretly hoped for bad weather. Naturally, we had some of the warmest weather on record. Heck, there was even a distant thunderstorm that temporarily knocked out the lights (small towns - you sneeze and the lights will go out). All in all, not bad weather-wise.

And because I am a bad person, God decided I was going to have a migraine. I hadn't had a migraine in almost two months. I even took my medicine before it went full-tilt. No dice. So we are heading out to Illinois, my migraine is swelling up, and suddenly, I felt horribly car-sick. I can't even remember the last time that happened. There I am, spacey from the meds which haven't killed the pain yet, migraine trying to decide if it is going to split my head in two, and car-sick from the war between the two, mentally chanting to myself, "c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, kick in already, I will not be sick, I will not be sick ..."

DH said to me, "Um, are you ok?"

Me: "Fine. Why?"

Apparently my eyes were the size of dinner plates and my input into our conversation was a little out there.

DH pulls over. "You don't feel good, do you?"

"It's a migraine. I'll be fine once the medicine kicks in."

DH turns around and heads back home. "Well, I don't want to force you to go if you don't want to."

Well, great. Now he's all fissy and blaming me for not feeling well (warning: major hot button between us). "I said I'll be fine."

DH turns around again. "Fine."

Me: "Fine."

DH turns around once more, heading back home. "I hate it when you do this."

Me: "Did I ask you to turn around? No. I didn't want to ruin this because this was your deal. I took my medicine. I should be fine. (A pause.) Maybe it would help if we got something to drink."

DH turns around again, once more towards Illinois. "OK."

DSS suddenly chimes in from the backseat, turning off his MP3 player. "Whoa, dude. We like passed that house three times. Are we lost?"

"Nope. Just taking the scenic route." And tin-sounding music began to blare from tiny ear pieces again.

The rest of the trip was better. We had to stop again because I needed to go to the bathroom. I swear, if I ever find myself pregnant and have to pee any more than I already do, I'm just going to have to go straight to Depends. On the way out, I grabbed Zingers, donuts and Fritos (the chili Fritos were for DSS, the rest was for me. OK, yes I shared with DH). Ah, junk food bliss.

Finally, we arrived. His aunt and cousin were very nice, very laid back and lived in a gorgeous old Victorian home with these beautiful ornate radiators and a fabulous wrap-around front porch. Oh, yeah. And they smoked. Cigarettes. My A-1, Numero Uno, Grade A trigger for migraines.

For the most part, I managed to avoid the smoky areas, but you know how smoke is. It's in the wallpaper, in the furniture, it's everywhere. Still, I managed. My SIL and her brood was there, plus a few other family kids. Nothing quite like a mob of deranged wild children stomping through the house, hooting and hollering. Still, I was OK.

Then they started setting off the fireworks outside. And my eye began to twitch. My head began to throb. And then the kids, the smoke, the bright lights, the blaring TV and all the noise made me suddenly really wish I was home. I don't do misery well. No matter how much I try to push through, I usually end up crying like an over-tired five-year old. And I was getting perilously close to that point.

Let me just say I really love his aunt's house. It's soundproof. They sent the kids somewhere else to play (the dungeon? the cellar? Timbuktu?) and my MIL turned off the overhead light (bless that woman). DH curled up on the couch with me while the latest batch of Advil/Tylenol worked its magic. I wasn't going to jump up and dance the Watusi anytime soon, but it was better. The aunt has a most excellent couch too.

I dozed off and on a bit and then woke up at midnight just in time for all the kids to pop their little confetti cork popper thingies. Oh yeah, midnight their time. Illinois is on Central time. Our little home in Indiana is on Eastern. Argh. I really must be an ungrateful wretch because even after all the niceness, I still thought to myself, "WTH??! We are still here?"

I know. Nice. We got home at 3:30 AM. Thankfully, I was in a near-coma by then, thinking I'm getting too old for this crap. And we didn't even drink. At the very least I was saved from another occurrence of my Foot-In-Mouth disease.

How DH manages to put up with me, I don't know. Of course, I'm still not entirely certain why we stayed for eight hours when I was obviously was un-well ...