August 2005 Archives
Lori got out of surgery late last night and I stayed the night with her. When I left this morning she was sleeping. The doctor was pleased with the results. Hopely Lori will be back to posting in a week or so. Continue the emails, she reads them all.
For those who have been wondering where Lori is, she was hospitalized again. She went in on August 19th, although she was pretty sick for about a week leading up to it. She is having surgery today. Hopefully this will finally correct the problem. Lori asked that I post to let everyone know what was going on. She is in good spirits and actually relieved that this should fix things for good. The hospital she is staying at has an email service. I haven't used it so I'm not sure exactly how it works. The hospital is St. John's Medical Center in Longview Washington. It's Lori Carlson in room 606. She goes in to surgery at 4pm, but I'll be there all afternoon to get messages.
Pookie
I got my period over the weekend and along with it my gut went nuts, my body went wonky, and I've done not much of anything but watch movies on TV and have flashbacks from the past months of where I was sick in the hospital or sick at home. Why does our brain suddenly release these memories when triggered by a sound, a scent, or a visual stimuli?
It feel like I'm in a mental prison and no matter how many "happy thoughts" I try to remember to chase away the icky-awful ones, the icky-awful ones are too vivid for my comfort level.
This weekend I've not been pleased with being an ostomate because I've had to wear underwear and I hate wearing underwear. My period isn't very heavy, though it has a right be since it's been on hold for three months. The cramps were typical for me, but the emotional/hormonal aspect has been three months' worth of PMS.
This evening we're going over to my dad's house for pizza. I just hope I can make it through without feeling worse. I do feel better than the past two days. That's because I've medicated myself into a stupor. When it doubt: medicate. It always seems to do the trick.
Pooky was real good about making food. I sent him to buy steaks and he even grilled them perfectly. He also got the rice made ok; too wet the first night, but good the second. I know I bitch at him when he cooks; it's that damn Virgo trait of mine to hover and worry about food being prepared exactly right, so more often than not I snap and then have to apologize later for my outbursts. He just chalks it up to PMS. That sums up what being a Virgo can be like at times: never-ending PMS.
I've got weddings the next two weekends, two a piece for each Saturday. The phonebook ad lady called me today to remind me it's time to renew the phonebook ad. I want to expand into the Olympia market; hope it won't cost me an arm and two legs. The ad I currently have was over $800. Advertizing isn't cheap! I just hope the ad will pay for itself. I have gotten maybe 5 calls from the ad but no real income from it. I think it will take awhile before people catch on.
So much for early menopause! (The percocet has kicked in so I'll sign off before I give away trade secrets!)
as translated by Lori M. Carlson
The early days of my youth were spent within the paradise of a tropical rainforest. While most of my days as a child were like the all the rest, there was one particular day in which a man with a big yellow hat came into the forest. He wore yellow clothes and kept calling me Curious George. I shrieked a lot at the man with the big yellow hat, and wildly flung my feces at him to make him go away.
In my early adulthood my family I and were forced to move because our rainforest was cut-down by big metal beasts that belched smoke and awful smells. Times were tough, and I sought employment outside of the forest. I responded to an ad in the local paper and soon found myself stationed at a typewriter along with a thousand other monkeys. Our task was simple: write the Great American novel. Sadly, just as I was writing some of the best fictional work of my life, funding for the project was cut, and I was once again forced to relocate and seek new employment.
My parents passed away, and I found myself living with my nephew Skanky and my Uncle Stenchy, who lost his ears and tail in a mishap involving a meat cleaver wielded by a Chinese cook who wanted to prepare monkey brains. (Uncle Stenchy never told us how he managed to escape.) Times were extremely desperate, and I knew that the only way I could make it was if I could go to America. I had no worldly possessions to sell for fare to the U.S., so I resorted to peddling myself in an up-scale trendy catalog, as I heard that in the States people wanted sock monkeys as their children's companions. The idea of being a "mail-order monkey" was cheap and tawdry, but I thought if Oriental women could sell themselves as mail-order brides just to get into the United States, I could do the same.
When the word came to me that a young woman wanted to adopt me, I was excited, afraid, and nervous—mostly because I knew I'd have to spend time in quarantine. The stories that drifted into the forest about the harsh treatment at quarantine were enough to make any sock monkey tremble. Tales of unnecessary surgery, and anal probing abounded. When they came to take me to the quarantine area, I said good-bye to uncle Stenchy and Skanky, vowing to send for them when I could.
My arrival at quarantine was at night, so I quickly sought refuge in my cage and slept fitfully throughout the night. The next morning, I found my surroundings to be not as evil as rumors told, and I made friends with other sock monkeys seeking a new life in a new land.
Shortly after my arrival in my new American home, my girl arranged for Skanky and Uncle Stenchy to immigrate, too. I received a letter from my cousin Yulie asking if I could manage to help her come to this great country. Being she is only a midget, she was easily smuggled into the country in someone's pocket.
Things are going well for me. I've written a screenplay about my life, and my agent has met with Disney a few times regarding the production of my script. They say that they want to revive their animal adventure movies like they made in the early 1960s. With computer animation, they claim that they can make Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon appear on the screen as if it really were 1963!
I've already got the opening theme song written:
The Stanky Song
They sewed him up from an old lady's hanky
But he wasn't very swanky!
They sewed him from an old man's pants
and he turned out quite danky.
It wasn't until they sewed him from a sock
that he came out to be stanky!
He's Stanky, the sock monkey!
He's Stanky, the sock monkey!
The Monkey made of socks!
What caught my eye about the search terms was that a lot of folks are looking for shrones! This is great because it is spreading Shrone consciousness and the awareness of shrones is increasing. I'm scratching my head about the "Crafty Dirty Virgin". Shouldn't the phrase "dirty virgin" be classified as an oxymoron?
There really is a Pooky's Zoo blog, and it mentions Rachel.
The reason for all of the Bartholin's Gland info is I made a page about my experiences with having one twice (or three times). It's good to see people still find it. I've even had e-mails from people asking about my experiences.
What's interesting is how our blogs are becoming have become resources of information (either correct or erroneous). I know I've found links to sites from blogs that I otherwise wouldn't have discovered. Each of us is a wealth of knowledge—and we share it for free. (OK, technically it isn't "free" but you get the point.)
I tag April, Misfit, and Micky!
If you want to participate the chain-letter part works like this: remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; just check to make sure the links are still attached if you copy n' paste.
1) Yea, I knit...
2) Yarn Obsession
3) Yarns and Musings
4) Addicted To Crochet
5) Home Burrough
5 Things I Miss From Childhood:
1. Nalley's Cheeze Pleezers (they were like Cheetos, only better!)
2. Going and doing things with my sister.
3. Saturday morning cartoons
4. Going to the theater and paying the 12 and under admission (it was only a couple of bucks!)
5. The lack of technology, i.e., cell phones, computers, ATM's, cable TV, etc. When there was only 5 channels to watch, there was always something on to watch, and if not, then you read a book or wrote a letter, or you went to visit someone.
On Saturday I received my Not-So-Secret reveal package from Kari. I promise to post pictures as soon as I get my lazy ass in gear. One of the best things she included was a beanie Wienermobile! I used to have one in my previous incarnation and left it behind when I moved out. I was really missing it and was thinking of trying to acquire another, but she beat me to it!
Having Kari as my secret pal was something that I was hoping for. She's helped me grow as a person in that when I first landed on her blog, I was really ruffled by her opinions, but then I remembered to breathe and it wasn't so bad. She got me to thinking, and for me, anyone who gets me to thinking is someone that I admire and respect. Her sense of humor and intellect indicated that she was a sistah Shrone.
Thank you, Kari, for being my secret pal for the past 3 months! *hugs*
Captured On Film: Teddy Is Evil
Today I was able to prove that Teddy is evil. I've nicknamed him "Corkscrew" because his tail is bent at a 90° angle. His surname has been decided: he'll be Mr. Theodore Montague. Thus, the kitten trio is Snodgrass, Smee, and Montague. Sounds like a group of lawyers, doesn't it? I still need to get a picture of Teddy's tail. When we took him in his tail was a nub and as he has grown, so has his tail. It appears like it was slammed in a door, but I don't think it was. It wasn't long enough to get caught!
Teddy's abnormality has also manifested in that he won't eat tuna with the other cats. He isn't interested in people food, either. I thought his need to suckle was abnormal but found out that it isn't all that abnormal.
A Billion Cats Can't Be Wrong!
Smee finds that the taste of butt isn't as delicious as it is cracked up to be (bad pun, please excuse me)! Naturally I wasn't trying to take this picture. I was hoping to get him with his leg up as he look disjointed. I also want to get a movie of him wiggly his "bell clapper" tail. His tail is straight but half-length so it doesn't flow like a snake like other cats' tails do. Of course the moment I bring the camera out he has to come over and check it out making my job that much more challenging. So far he is winning (obviously!)
Smee is also plagued with indignities (my language for fleas). I don't understand how he can be having them as I dosed all of the cats with Advantage or Frontline less than a month ago! I know the hotter weather is flea hatching season, and I've sprayed their sleeping areas with something that surely will cause cancer in laboratory white mice (but allow the fleas to live)!
Mr. B Allows His Image to Be Stolen
Mr. B is the only camera-shy cat I've known. Most know what you are doing and go out of their way to be photographed. Instead, he acts like someone from a cultural belief that photography will steal his soul. I didn't enhance his image in Photoshop to reveal the details of his face. This is how he mostly appears, just yellow eyes floating in a void of blackness.
Mr. B isn't too crazy about the kittens. He hisses at them regularly. I don't think it has occurred to him that he can make all three of them his bitches. Since the arrival of the kittens Mr. B has become more loving and socialable. He'll come sit on my lap and he allows his highly glossy fur to be stroked. I call him my Silkworm as his fur is very silky. He enjoys the praise.
Help! My Cat Has Been Replaced with a Boneless Hoot Owl!
Last but not least, Mr. Doo was striking one of his Lord Doo poses for me during my feline photography session. When he tucks his front paws in and up-turns his ears he is in his Lord-mode. I think he looks like a hoot owl and simultaneously like a meatloaf (boneless meatloaf, that is).
His training of Stash continues. All of his antics are being passed like a baton. I'm not entirely sure how he is transmitting the information to Stash. It could be mental telepathy, it could be on parchment paper written in blood.
In the shadow of the bridge on the Oregon side is a quaint restaurant called Char-Burger. No, the burger does not come to you looking like a round piece of charcoal. However, it does taste like it's been grilled over charcoals, like a backyard barbecue. Inside you can sit and gaze at the river and watch people doing water-type activities.
If you travel further up the Gorge into the desert region you can visit a replica of Stonehenge. We went there for my 29th birthday. The Henge isn't built to scale. It is perched atop a cliff and you can look out and see for miles.
On our way home today we're going to dine at my favorite place on earth to eat a cheeseburger: Fuddruckers. Our nearest one is in Portland. I don't put any condiments on the bun because the meat is so flavorful that it needs to shine on its own. I add just a little onion and lettuce to give it a little crunch.
I anticipate we'll be back late tonight, so until tomorrow!
| Star Wars Horoscope for Virgo |
 You show efficiency when working for a good cause. Star wars character you are most like: C3P0 |
| Your Virgo Drinking Style |
 Virgo's controlled by the intellect, but there's an unbridled beast lurking within, and they let it loose when walloped. It's dead sexy (and surprisingly unsloppy). As one Virgo friend used to declare, "I'm going to drink myself into a low level of intelligence tonight." A toast to the subgenius IQ! |
| Your Signature Cocktails |
| Many Virgos prefer clear, simple, untreacly drinks like vodka tonic or a real margarita, though you can be found drinking anything from unflinchingly downing Cuervo straight to smirkingly ordering a dirty virgin. You also tend to like bitter, low-alk guzzles like Campari and soda. However, you rarely change your signature drink once you've found it. |
| Your Celebrity Drinking Buddies |
| Cameron Diaz, Hugh Grant, Keanu Reeves, Nicole Richie, Bill Murray, Jada Pinkett Smith, Adam Sandler, and Ricki Lake. |
My siganture drink: The reason I like a Blue Hawaiian is it reminds me in color of Berry Blue Kool-Aid. I just love blue drinks!
I've never been to New England or to prison!
Your Slanguage Profile |
| New England Slang: 50% |
| Prison Slang: 50% |
| Aussie Slang: 25% |
| Canadian Slang: 25% |
| Southern Slang: 25% |
| British Slang: 0% |
| Victorian Slang: 0% |
I opened up the package last night that I thought contained the pattern and direction to make Monty. It did not. It merely contained the thread, needle, and felt to make his clothing, plus his adoption papers (in English and Spanish). Being that I need directions, I don't think I'll be able to sew Monty into existence. I am the type that needs a pattern, or at least an outline so I can improvise.
Being that it's been 4 years and probably no less than 6 moves since I bought the kit, I am not very hopeful for finding the directions. Plus, I never thought I would sew up Monty since I hate sewing tiny things. But, you never know. I could find the directions. I do tend to save the user's manuals to everything, so I may just uncover how to piece him together in a stack of mundane papers.
I adore Rachel Ray and Paula Deen from The Food Network. I try not to miss their shows. I would really love Rachel's job of $40 A Day. She gets to travel and eat while there. As for Paula, I want her to be my mommy!
But I ask myself: How do these women stay thin? Well, Paula is not that thin, but as I figure it, with her use of butter she should weigh no less than 500 pounds. Might there be some selling of souls that's taken place? They don't look papery thin enough to have bullemia, nor does either one look the type for regular exercise.
Well, for Rachel I'm guessing how she keeps trim is that in order to keep below her $40 limit she eats an appetizer for dinner, and for lunch she doesn't get the AYCE special. In fact, she eats a lot less than I would eat. Still, she does drink more alcohol than I do and alcohol is chock-full of Calories.
As for Paula, wouldn't surprise me if she's sacrificing small animals off camera. Anyone who uses that quantity of butter and isn't 500 pounds, and doesn't cook healthy foods has to be cooking up some mojo somewhere!
BTW, just what is the recipe for cooking up mojo?
The question that begs to be answered is: What would Shrones wear to a convention? The answer is, of course, crocheted clothing! Naturally Shrones are drawn toward the flamboyant and gaudy styles that contain the essence of sophisticaion and style.
"People aren't wearing enough hats." This is true. Back in the day people always wore a hat. The eccentric wore turbans. As stated before, any woman wearing a turban who isn't undergoing chemotherapy treatment is automatically a Shrone. Here are two crochted turbans for Shrones to pick from:
Crocheting Shrones will be pleased to make their own turban using this vintage pattern. The turban allows for a Shrone to hide unruly hair or to compliment long tresses. Plus you can hide an assortment of contraband inside of this bulky head piece. People will stop and stare and find themselves at a loss for words to express their awe and wonder at the handmade garment atop your head.
People may mistake you for a movie star and want your autograph as these stylish turbans radiate a sense of charm and enchantment!
Imagine these turbans crocheted in vivid colors or sparkling jewel tones!
The smiling gal made her turban using this vintage pattern. She is so happy to stand out in the crowd looking a bit like a bunny rabbit who stumbled upon a patch of cannabis sativa.
I can't guarantee you'll be as giddy as the gal modeling the turban, but perhaps if you don your turban while cruising for penis and you get lucky, you may find yourself with a similar goofy grin.
The other alternative to cruising for penis is to make a cherry jubilee cheesecake with the cherries soaked for four hours in cherry brandy and to take a few nips of the sauce to make sure the cherries are becoming tipsy.
Also, a couple of Valium will render the same effect. Note: You won't be able to smile like this if you opt for Bo-Tox injections.
If you can't bring yourself to wear a turban there is a conversation piece vintage hat pattern that will surely make people stop and ask, "What's that on your head?" If such inquiries occur I recommend informing them of the Hall of Shrones and throwing a few insults there way as to why they wear bland, unremarkable clothing.
I'm not quite sure what is embellishing this hat. It looks like a curtain tie-back, but perhaps this Shrone is a closet dominatrix and it is her small whip?
Naturally you don't have to adorn your version of this hat with an unidentifiable tassle. I'd suggest making bright, semi-obnoxious flowers, or go all out and use silver or gold lamé to create something spectacular!
But if turbans and unidentified hats aren't your fancy and you require embellishments that are of a flamboyant nature, this patriotic vintage hat is just the ticket! There are oodles of potential for this hat to be transformed into something resembling a wizards hat. I'm thinking silver lamé stars and the addition of half-moons!
If you go the patriotic route, vivid colors would be best to show off your Shronedom.
Now that we have it figured out how we'll cover our heads, patterns for the rest of our bodies need to be found. I'm sure I'll find something outrageous—it's just a matter of time!
