The Guy With The Sonic Cup

I was driving to work yesterday, and I got behind a guy in a small 4-door car. As we stopped at a red light, I noticed that he had one of those giant Sonic drink cups perched on the left side of his trunk. "Whoa!" I thought, "when he starts moving, that cup's going to go flying. I better hang back so I don't get Cherry Limeade all over my Jetta!"

Well, he started moving again, and the cup didn't move. My eyes were glued to this damn cup as we traveled down a major road, periodically stopping at stoplights. How was this cup staying in place?

If there was nothing in the cup, it would have just blown away. It was a windy day. If the cup was full, it would have tipped at the first stoplight. Hell, it wouldn't have made it out of the Sonic parking lot. I pondered where a Sonic was, in relation to where I first saw the guy. And that darn cup.

Yes, I really kind of obsessed about this.

Then I noticed that the cup wasn't exactly sitting directly on the trunk...you could see a sliver of light under it. Did this guy glue the cup to his trunk? Why?!?! Why would you do this? Did he want to see how many people would honk at point at the darn cup, thinking he had forgotten it sitting on his trunk? And, while we are obsessing, who puts a drink on their trunk? I always put mine on my roof. So why the trunk? WHY?!?!?

I started analyzing the guy in the car. He looked like an older guy, maybe 50-ish, stocky. Not really a jokester, by the looks of him. Well, the looks of the back of his head, at least.

So, I finally have to make a turn to go to my office, and I got the chance to pull up alongside the guy. He was a delivery driver, according to the sign stuck on the driver's side door of his car. He didn't make eye contact, didn't point at the cup, as in "you like my cup, do you?". Nothing.

Has anyone seen this? Is this like those novelty half-golf balls that you can stick on your car windshield, like someone teed off into your car? Or was this guy just a bored delivery driver, looking for attention? Or do I just obsess about the goofiest things? Er, don't answer that last one.

Back to My Back

The fourteen days of anti-inflammatories are over and guess what? Say it with me! Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Bupkiss. Dorothy and lorib called it right...I should have gone directly to epidural steroid shot. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. And Monkey McWearingChaps sent me some good information about Pain Management and Rehabilitation. But did I listen? Well, no. Goofy me.

So now I'm back where I started (Er, no pun intended). Half of me wants to just Live With It. Just freaking ignore it. Suck it up, sister. Life is hard and the pain will make you stronger. Right?

The ortho doc said that it COULD just go away on its own. The very key word there being COULD. It could also get bad enough that I couldn't do all my Goofy things. Yikes! What would I do then? I'd go mad sitting around with nothing to do. Eek!

The super-medical terminology for what's ailing me is: a small left lateral lumbar disc protrusion, with mild stenosis of the central spinal canal. I'm still researching this on the trusty Internet. There's some confusion (mine, mostly) about whether protrusion = herniation. There's also mention in my MRI report of disc dessiccation, which sounds a little to close to disc desecration. Or disc disintegration. Or how about disc discrimation? Try saying that one a few times fast.

What's funny is that I'm really too busy to deal with this now. I could (and should) call my original chiropractor - the one that healed/cured/performed a miracle on my herniated cervical disc several years ago. My hesitation in doing this is that he is a full HOUR'S drive away from anywhere that I might be on a given day.

So, in conclusion...there is no conclusion. The back issue is still in the back of my mind.

p.s. And, faithful readers, it really bothers me to have such a 'downer' post. I'll see what I can do about that!

Random Friday Junk

House for Sale
During our 20-mile Wyoming backpack adventure, Mr. Goofy & I had lots of time to talk (something we don't normally have with our 3-1/2 year old son around). We decided that we would sell our house in spring and move to a somewhat larger house.

So when we got back, we headed out the next day to look at houses. That is the Goofy Way. And...we found one! As karma/luck/universal kindness would have it, we got back from Yellowstone, Wyoming and promptly found a house we loved, named "The Yellowstone". Freaky, huh?

So we sat down and composed a list of things we need to do to our 15 year old house in order to sell it. The list is long...I had to shorten the top and bottom margins in Word to get it on 1 page!

So we have started painting, landscaping, trimming trees, cleaning and fixing. Goofy Junior thinks it's exciting that we have so many "projects" for him to be involved in. Gah!

Roof
We are getting a new roof. This spring, lots of hail descended upon Kansas City, and our roof finally raised the white flag of surrender. It has had hail hitting it virtually every spring for 15 years. We finally decided to call the insurance company and have them check it. And the result is... new roof!

This is very cool, except for the timing. Mr. Goofy is out of town this weekend, so I took Friday afternoon off to (say it with me..) do more house projects. As well as have some alone time before the Weekend-as-Goofy-Junior's-Sole-Parent. As luck would have it, the roofers decided that today (the Friday I mentioned above) would be a dandy day to start their work.

I came home around 1:30pm to three Mexican dudes on my roof, banging away. And a dumpster in my driveway. In the MIDDLE of my driveway, so there will be no garage parking for me this weekend. And roof droppings all over the front yard, back yard, and in the trees. Basically everywhere. Oh yeah, and all the pounding on the roof shook 15 years' worth of crap from our ceiling onto our floors, furniture, etc. INSIDE.

And can we talk for a minute about traumatized dogs that I came home to. They were like, "Dude, there are these noisy monsters on our roof! We tried to bite them, but they are way up there! And they keep dropping this white ceiling dust on our heads. Help us."

Fortunately, they tend to finish this roof stuff quick (we are not the only ones in our neighborhood having this done), so I think they will be out of my hair by Saturday afternoon.

Boondoggle
It's been over 5 years since a company has sent me to any sort of formal training. Well, any training outside of Kansas City, that is. You know? A boondoggle. Someplace fun that you travel to, learn some stuff, go drink with people of like mind. Fun stuff, man.

Anyway...I'm going on a conference! To Orlando! In November! Yee-ha! Plus the subject matter is something that is pretty good stuff for the work I do (but probably boring to 90% of the population).

I am trying to convince Mr. Goofy to come down mid-week and bring Goofy Junior. GJ is always talking about "the beach" and "the ocean" although he's never seen one (outside of a book that is). Being the Purveyor of Cool Experiences that I am, I think he needs to go see a real ocean.

And yes, I realize that Orlando is inland. But it's a hell of a lot closer to salt water than Kansas!

So that's what's on my mind this Friday. Stay tuned for more Goofy thoughts!

No Giant Death Tumors! Yippee!

Actually, my prognosis is pretty boring: I have an abnormality of the disc between the L5 and S1 vertabraes. That would be "L" for Lumbar and "S" for Sacrum (Take that, Sue Grafton!). The disc is the spongy stuff between your vertabraes that keeps them from grinding together. I heard the analogy once that your vertabraes are like the cookies in the Oreo cookie, and the disc is the "stuff". This analogy just makes me hungry.

So what does all this mean? Good question! Unfortunately, it means alot of the same ole, same ole...

Here's how the doctor conversation went...

Anti-inflammatories:
Me: I already tried those. They didn't help. They actually made it worse.
Doc: Well, I find that hard to believe. I can see them not helping, but I doubt they made it worse.
Me: (did that bitch just call me a liar!?) Well, they didn't help.*
Doc: Which ones did you take?
Me: Er.....it started with "N". Naaaaaaaaa-something. (Duh)
Doc: Naproxen? NaproseelyMcweely?
Me: Um, yeah. That first one. (whatever, bitch. Gimme the good ones)
Doc: Hmmmm....Let's try Celebrex. That one has a really good track record with cases like this.
Me: (Dammit, now I've got that stupid Celebrex song in my head...Cel-e-brate...Cel-e-brate...ARG!) Okay, sure.
Doc: Now try these for fourteen days. You will know whether they work or not after that. It will be obvious.
Me: Okay.

Physical Therapy:
Doc: If those don't do the trick, we will do some physical therapy.
Me: I already did that.
Doc: Well. (kinda ignoring me) Let's try it again.
Me: (Hey, did that bitch just ignore me? Whatever. I guess he's the "expert" here. I'll just nod and act interested). Um, okay. (also thinking...my benefit limit for physical therapy bit the dust about two months ago...this could get expensive)
Doc: (babbles on about physical therapy)

Epidural Steroids:
Doc: If all that doesn't help, we can move on to epidural steroids.
Me: Are those like cortisone shots? (me showing my clever Google research skills. Ha!)
Doc: Sort of. Have you had kids?
Me: No. (I HAVE a kid, but I've never HAD a kid, but didn't feel compelled to elaborate on this)
Doc: Er, well, it's an epidural, like when you go into labor, but instead of painkillers, it's steroids, which can help the disc heal.
Me: (Hell-oooooo? Did you hear me? NO LABOR. Wouldn't know an epidural if it poked me in the ass. That is where they put it, right???) Er. Okay.

At this point, I'm thinking, "Just shoot me in the ass, back, neck, wherever you need to with the epidural goo, 'cause I've already tried the drugs, I've already tried the therapy, and it's not working. I don't see how trying this all again (with the associated expense) will help."

But, hey, I'm a trooper. I'll go along with the plan and see what happens. Meanwhile, know that I know in certain terms what is wrong, I'm off to Google to do some research. Much to Cagey's dismay, I fear. Whee!


*Mr. Goofy later reminded me about how the anti-inflammatories gave me anxiety attacks. I had forgotten that fun side effect!

D-Day

Well, tomorrow is D-day. Doctor Day. Otherwise known as The Day When I Find Out What is Wrong with My Back. Hopefully...

All the MRIs are taken. I had my last one Friday. As you might recall, I freaked out during the previous one (from claustrophobia) and had to reschedule at an "open" MRI. I put the open in quotes (big, giant quotes) because it was NOT open. Liars! It was just shorter.

But...the technician was nice. And cute (hey, cute goes a long way when you are freaking out). And (this is the biggie)...he gave me a button to hold that I could press if I just couldn't take it anymore and he would (supposedly) eject me immediately from the machine. Just this simple rubber ball with a cord coming out of it - this CONTROL - kept me sane. Silly me forgot to see if it was actually connected to anything or not. They probably call it the "Idiot Ball" and laugh as patients frantically press it and nothing happens. Ah, but as usual, I digress....

So, the tests are all taken, and I have my orthopedist's appointment tomorrow. What will it be? Herniated disc? Giant tumor on my spine? Osteo-necrosis*? Or....my worst nightmare....

Nothing. I am super-duper afraid that he will tell me my back is normal. Why? Because what the hell do I do then? I'm in pain. Pretty bad pain sometimes. I'm worried that it will either be nothing(mental? stress?), or un-fixable. Like I said...what the hell do I do then?

So there. I said, er, typed it. I'm trying not to worry about it, cause we all know how much that helps (NOT!). Try to think some good, back-healing thoughts for me around 4:00pm CST tomorrow.

Unless my giant back tumor bursts, I'll be writing in tomorrow to let you all know the verdict.

So stay tuned - same Goofy time...same Goofy channel.


*Bo Jackson's disease. Yes, I've done some research on all the things it could be, regardless of how remote the chances.

Rebels without a Card

Ever feel like you are the last person on the earth to try (or give up) something? Well, I'm here to tell you that, yours truly, Goofy Girl is the single last holdout.

Q: For what?
A: Membership to one of those super-duper wholesale club stores.

We do not belong to Costco. We are not welcome at Sam's Club. Price Club...no thanks. And we do not miss it.

Q: Who really needs a 5 pound bag of cheese curls? Who needs a 24-pack of sweatsocks?
A: Obviously, everyone else in America except for us.

You should see the faces when I tell people this. And (trust me) it comes up in casual conversation nowadays.

Co-worker: Oh I had the best cheese last night!
Me: Really? What kind was it?
Co-worker: Oh gouda or something....I got the 10 pound sampler from Costco. You should go pick it up!
Me: Er. I can't. I don't belong to Costco.
Co-worker: (shocked silence)

It's not like I'm bragging or anything. I just really don't feel like I would get a big value out of it.

I really don't buy books much at all anymore (library serves to whet my bookworm appetite). Music CDs have been replaced by iTunes downloads and movies come via Blockbuster Online.

And we buy groceries using the JIT (just-in-time) method. As in "Honey, what's for dinner tonight?" "I don't know, let's run up to Price Chopper and get something". There's no stocked-freezer in the Goofy house, that's for sure.

And we are surviving. Really!

So readers...tell me: Are we missing the boat? Should we rush over to Sam's and plunk down our 35 bucks a year? Or are we okay sticking with our "alternative" lifestyle?

Wyoming and Stuff

In the far and mighty West,
Where the crimson sun seeks rest,
There's a growing splendid State that lies above,
On the breast of this great land;
Where the massive Rockies stand,
There's Wyoming young and strong, the State I love!

Okay, okay...I'll spare you rest on the Wyoming State Song. Wyoming was, well, pretty darn splendid. Temps were highs in the 70s, lows in the 40s. Humidity around 20% (versus 90% here in good ole KC). In other words...perfect.

It was hard to come back. We were there a week. I didn’t think about work. I didn’t think about Goofy Junior (too much). My mind started centering. And (bonus!) I actually got to re-connect with my husband. Without the work, family, house, dogs, money, etc. issues swirling around, we actually enjoyed each other’s company and got to talk about some pretty important things. And we didn’t fight/bicker at all. Well, a few times regarding navigational issues, but that’s to be expected.

I also got an MRI on the Friday before we left. It’s a long, painful story, but I only got an MRI of my hip, not my back. I was supposed to get both, but I kinda freaked out when the gal rolled me all the way into the middle of the MRI machine (which is this gigantic, sterile white monolith, that makes loud banging noises and they roll you into the middle of it, head-first, which gives you a fun "coffin" feeling). Shudder. Then she mentioned that I would have to be in there for 40 minutes. Without moving. If I moved, we’d have to start over.

So basically I freaked ("Jane! Stop this crazy thing!") and could only do the hip MRI. Which they can put you feet-first in for…and I still freaked me out, but I was able to hold it together for the 40 minutes. I freaked out quietly. Then I couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. Hopefully that will be enough for the ortho doc to tell me something.

Back to Wyoming. Once again, I surprised myself at how much I can achieve, once I set my mind to it. Or maybe I’m just too stupid to know what is above my level. Who knows? Anyway…
I went up, up, and over a mountain divide that was 10,700 feet tall. On the way down, I started having some altitude sickness symptoms, the most annoying one being a pretty strong nauseous feeling. The headaches I’m used to, and can breath through, but the nausea made me nervous.

Also, by the time we got to camp, I had a whopping blister in the back of my left ankle. Like a quarter-sized gaping hole! This made the last day hiking out very, very painful and my progress very slow. But I finished. My energy held out very well and I recovered from the nausea fairly fast (well, after vomiting at our campsite – under a rock, so it wouldn’t attract Yogi Bear. I’ll never eat a beef stick again. Bleck.).

I took a nap in the tent for about 30 minutes (shivering the entire time), then was able to eat some dinner and felt a great deal better. Then the next morning I felt like a new woman. A new woman with a very sore, bloody ankle. Ew.

But…I did it! As Dora would say, "Lo hicimos!". I surprised myself at how well I did. The next day, Randy was just as sore as I was (although he didn’t get any blisters). Mainly our calves killed us, from the 5-hour downhill hike out. We looked like two senior citizens gimping around after we sat still for more than 10 minutes.

And that's the Goofy definition of Big Fun.

Ponderation about Motivation

On my drive to work, I started pondering motivation. What drives people? Since I was driving to work, I started thinking about all the other folks around me driving their cars to work. What motivated them to get up, primp, jump into their cars and get going? Never mind WHERE they were going…that's irrelevant. Assuming they are going somewhere that pays them to be there each day. Why do they do it?

That skinny guy eating a granola bar in the Grand Cherokee…what's his motivation? A family at home to support? Aging parents that might depend on him soon to pay their bills? Or maybe that trip to France that he's always dreamed about?

The chubby black lady driving the bright yellow (ouch, my eyes!) Mustang…what's her motivation? Paying for gas on her sporty car? Just getting the bills paid? Or is she working towards a greater purpose? Does she dream about changing the world someday?

What compels us to wrap our lives around a job? Money, of course, is key. But the money is simply the middleman. Money is simply a means to an end.

Money (and by "money" I mean the pieces of green paper that we exchange to buy goods and services) is worthless taken at face value. It's paper, people. Ah, but it's important paper. It REPRESENTS. It represents our end goals….food…clothes…iPods….pedicures.

If we gather enough of these green pieces of paper (either physically or virtually) then our dreams can get bigger. A new car. New house. New boobs. A new product or service that will change the way the world operates.

But do we all think about this during the average week? Do we stop and think about WHY we are going to work? Or do we just do it because everyone else is doing it? Because we have nothing else to do? Because we think it's "expected" of us? Because we are too lazy to come up with another method?

I don't have any answers to these questions. And just when I started really getting my thinking going…I arrived at work. And I had to go in because, hey, what else am I gonna do?

A Goofy Walk in the Woods

Only a Goofy Girl can take a nice, relaxing backpacking trip and find a way to apply an Excel spreadsheet and anal-retentiveness to it. Let me explain…

Mr. Goofy and I are going to Grand Teton National Park to do (among other things) a 3-day backpack. Backpacking is where you head into the woods with just the stuff you need on your back, and don't emerge for several days later, hopefully still civil with each other. (stay tuned)

I'm recently been reading about ultra-light and lightweight backpacking. Ultra-light backpacking is basically yourself, the clothes on your back, and a tarp. And I'm not really exaggerating much, folks.

On the other hand, lightweight backpacking is more about being aware of what you are carrying and what each item weighs. You examine (and weigh!) all the items you would normally take and make some tough decisions about what to leave at home. Also, it emphasizes taking items with dual purposes. For example, socks could also be used as "gloves" if it got unexpectedly cold. Hopefully CLEAN socks...

It also emphasizes taking only what you need. I would normally haul around a full bottle of sunscreen and a full spray bottle of bug spray for this 3-day backpack. Am I really going to use that much sunscreen? No way. So instead, you find a small container and put about 3 days' worth of sunscreen in it, and find a much smaller bug spray (or maybe go with towelettes - anyone ever use those?)

Some benefits of lightweight backpacking are:
(1) you can go farther, since you are not weighed down with all the pleasures of home like fluffy pillows, lanterns, 3-course meals, teddy bear; and
(2) as we get older (who me!?) it's much easier on your back and knees to carry less weight. I like both of these benefits. I also like a good challenge. Game on!

After buying a kitchen scale to weigh my gear, I created an Excel spreadsheet on which to track the items I intended to carry on my back across Wyoming. My goal was to carry 30 pounds or less.

I weighed socks. I weighed food. I cut tags off of clothing to eliminate weight (and weighed them...total saved = 1 ounce). I decided to recycle socks while on the trip (I know....EW!). I decided to forgo toothpaste for 3 days (double-EW). I bought a Titanium spork.

My total looked really good at first. Then I realized I had forgotten to account for water (8 pounds) and my backpack (5.3 pounds). Whoops.

I removed more clothes from my list. Our planned lunch menu got smaller. I decided I needed to bring a shorter paperback book than I had planned. Basically, it's gotten obsessive. Sigh.

As of yesterday, my estimated total weight was 31.04 pounds. 1.04 over! So close. But, I scored big this evening at Price Chopper - I found a 1-ounce bottle of bug spray. This replaces my current "heavyweight" 4 ounce one.

Yippee! Now I've got an extra almost-pound free. Looks like a chocolate bar (or two) may make the trip afterall.

Life is good.

UPDATE: I should know not to attempt math after 10:00pm. I am not UNDER by an almost-pound..I'm still OVER by an almost-pound. ARG!

Don't Hate Me Because I'm a Capitalist

It's that time of year again…school is starting and the fund raising order forms are appearing everywhere.

They hit you with the guilt trip. The band/football team/soccer team/choir/chess club doesn't have enough money for uniforms/goals/music stands/rooks so PLEASE can you dig deep and help them?

And in return, you get some crap: A 40-cent candy bar for $2.50; a popcorn tin with a half-life; an overpriced stinky candle, Xmas wrapping paper in August. Hell, you name it and they will mark it up 15% and sell it to you. In the interests of fund raising, of course.

And rest assured…the fund raising group that need the help will get a whopping 20 cents from each dollar you give. This is after the organization that provides the aforementioned candy/popcorn/candle/crap takes their share.

I blame the Girl Scouts. They started it all.

I saw one of these forms today (candles for a football team) and I had a thought….why not just ask people to help by donating MONEY? Yes, that green stuff that hardly any of us carry around anymore. Have we gotten so selfish nowadays that we need to GET something in order to GIVE something? If my friend's sister's son's football team needs money for tackling dummies, why not just tell me this and ask for $5? Don't bother with the crappy products. Don't bother with the management organization taking their unbelievable cut of the profits. Simplify, people. Simplify.

And another thought…why not do what "real" sports teams do? Get sponsors. Hit up the neighborhood McDonald's, the local Trophy Shop, the corner Blockbuster. Frame it as a Market Opportunity. Dozens of teenagers will see these shirts/tackling dummies/softball gloves. If that's the business' target audience, let them have the opportunity to reach that target audience. For a price, of course.* Long live capitalism!

Our daycare sent home a fund raising sheet last fall. Seems our weekly fees were not enough and they needed money for some new playground equipment. I can't remember what the product was that we were supposed to pimp, but I was having none of it. On the day that we were to turn in our "orders", I walked in and asked what the average sales was looking like, per kid. Then I wrote a check for that amount ($50) as a donation.

I saved time, I probably saved money, I saved embarrassing myself by hitting up friends and neighbors to buy crappy popcorn balls and I saved having to eat/smell/wrap the crap that my own "order" would have netting me in return, when my friends/neighbors didn't buy enough.

Why do we make this so hard?!

* Hopefully we wouldn't end up with too many teams renamed to "The Trojans". Snicker.

Sex, Drugs and Acupuncture

My continuing saga of back pain continues... (sung to the tune of "Twelve Days of Christmas"):

9 months of chiro,
8 weeks of physical therapy,
7 days a week of pain,
6 back-strengthening exercises daily,
5 days of anti-inflammatories,
4 doctor visits,
3 places that hurt,
2 orthopedic referrals,
and1 session of laser acupunture

So I went back to my MD after 8 weeks of physical therapy (after 9 months of chiropractic treatments). I am now super-strong, but still in pain. He asked if I was taking the anti-inflammatories. I murmured something about not wanting the mask the symptoms (how would I know if I was getting better?). I could see he was not approving of this, so I promised him I would take them. Who knows? I'd kick myself if they worked after all I've gone through.

He also basically scratched his head and said "I dunno". He has no idea why my back hurts. He referred me to an orthopedist.

I started taking the anti-inflammatories about one week ago. The label is daunting: drinking alcohol with these can make your liver bleed; sun exposure can result in sunburn and blisters; dizziness, nausea, headaches. Great. Let's trade the bad for the worst. But I wanted to give it a shot.

RESULT: Nothing. NOTHING. No difference in the pain at ALL. NONE. I feel dizzy all day long (big fun) and I've noticed that my moods are swinging up and down, left and right. It freaked me out so much today, that I just quit taking them. No results in one week = I've tried it.

My chiropractor called to check on me and I gave her the scoop. I'd cheated on her - been to the physical therapist, but to no avail. What she did didn't work, what the PT was doing didn't work. Woe is me. She said she had a laser acupuncture machine that she thought I should try. I told her I was out of insurance money to pay for anything like that (another fun side effect of all this crap). She said, "the first one's on me" and told me I would be able to tell whether it would work or not from that. Hmmm...a freebie. Sounds like a drug dealer, huh? But I'm willing to give anything a shot at this point. Voodoo dolls. Shark cartilage. Pacts with the devil. Whatever.

The laser acupuncture was easy. Unlike regular acupunture, there are no giant scary needles, so that was a big plus. I didn't feel anything right off the bat, but the next day (today) I can tell a teensy, tiny difference. I don't know if it's just wishful thinking, or something good. So...

I called the orthopedist referral today. The nasty phone answering lady heard the word "back" and said, "We don't treat backs. If your back is the problem, you'll have to go somewhere else." I think she could have been a bit nicer, but I was still dizzy from the anti-inflammatories, so I just hung up. I got another ortho referral that I haven't called yet.

What's next? I had a colleague mention something called IMT (Integrated Manual Therapy). Hell, why not try it? At a minimum, it's a new experience. Groan.

Black Monster

Goofy Junior & I went to the movie store to get a movie (for him, not me). After making a toddler-approved selection, we checked out and headed home. We were showing the new movie to Daddy Goofy, when the following exchange happened.

Me: GJ got a cool new movie!
GJ: Yeah, Daddy, I got a new movie at the movie store.
Daddy: Really?! (playing along with the faux excitment)
Me: Yep, we went to Blockbuster and GJ picked out the movie himself.
GJ: Nuh-uh!* We didn't go to Black Monster...we went to the movie store!

(cue the laugh track...)

* His favorite new term. ARG!

The Shoe is on the Other...Paw?

Recently, we've been gathering up the family and taking road trips. It gets us out of the house, Goofy Junior gets New Experiences*, and we all have a fun time. After some reflection, I've realized that the weekends we just hang around the house and do nothing are also the Weekends of No Naps, Weekends of Recurring Meltdowns and Not Relaxing Weekends At All. So...road trips!

Road trips are even more fun when we stay overnight. Our Omaha trip was so much fun, and we didn't have to rush home since we had a hotel room. Okay, actually we did have to rush home, but that's another story.

One snag in this plan...our two beloved Siberian Huskies. We can't leave them alone this long. Well, we could, except if we left them 2 days' worth of dog food, they would eat it within seconds of us leaving, vomit, then....well, I'll spare you the details about their digusting dog nature. And there's also the pooping aspect of the whole situation. Basically, they need to be fed twice a day and need to be let out a few times too. Or go to the kennel.

They love the kennel. We love the kennel. Many (many!) folks in our area love the kennel. Thus...the kennel is very often full. Especially for folks like The Goofys that plan Saturday trips on Wednesday night (we are a tad spur-of-the-moment sometimes).

I had trips planned for this coming weekend (Lindsborg, KS) and the following weekend (possibly Omaha again), but alas...no kennel.

Even for Omaha, we didn't have a kennel. We begged and pleaded asked our Dog-Loving Friend** if she could check on them a few times and feed them.

So, instead of being a family with a 3-year-old that makes it difficult to travel, we are a family with a 3-year-old that loves to travel, but our dogs are keeping us home.

Instead of having Mommy Guilt, I have Puppy Parent Guilt, when I think that Casey (who turns 14 this year, which is like being the Buck O'Neil of dogs) will not be with us much longer. We've had her since she was about 6 months old, so there will be a big hole in our family when she goes. Even GJ is very attached to Casey. She is his favorite. Shhhh, don't tell Murphy!

So for the moment, we are grounded. I should be planning our trip to Lindsborg for three weeks' out (kennel is available), but it's hard for me to plan that far ahead.***

We are making do. I think this weekend will involve a trip to Deanna Rose Farmstead (horses! goats! chickens! oh my!) and/or Powell Gardens.

...and a call to the kennel to make some reservations!

*One of my Mommy Goals is to give GJ lots of new experiences. That way, when he gets old enough, we can go exploring together, instead of sitting in front of the TV together (aka the way I grew up).

**Everyone should have a Dog-Loving Friend...they are such good people. And they never mind when you talk about poop.

***This is why I never get good rates on airplane travel...sigh.

You asked for it...

You got it! Pics of the GATOR POOL! Are you jealous, or what?

Goofy Junior's first look:






The Gator Pool, in all its glory:








I didn't get an action shot of the sprinkler going...I was too worried about ruining the camera. :-)

$14.99 Worth of Fun

Starting this past weekend, it's been blazing hot in good ole KC. Like 100 degrees, no wind and about 90% humidity. I really don't think I'm exaggerating either. So Friday night, Goofy Junior and I decided that we wanted a pool.

Not the in-ground, pain-in-the-neck-because-of-all-the-upkeep pools...just a simple, shallow pool that we could splash around in. And I do mean SPLASH. That's all toddlers seem to want to do in a pool.

Anyway, in my efforts to qwell* my inner Control Freak nature, I sent Mr. Goofy off in search of a pool. I believe my directive was, "just buy a pool". So proud of my delegation, I am. :-)

And he ROCKED THE HOUSE. GJ and I came home from grocery shopping (our task of the day) to find an ALLIGATOR POOL! With LEGS! And a TAIL! And (drumroll, please) A WATER SPRINKLER ON THE TOP OF THE GATOR'S HEAD!! Okay, so maybe not genetically correct for a gator to have a whale spout, but it's SO f-ing** cool.

NOTE: I SO wanted to post a picture of the Alligator Pool, but I can't seem to find one on the 'net. Maybe it's more fun to imagine, anyway...

We rushed around, getting swimsuits on, sunscreen, finding our shades, then went and jumped into the 4-inch deep pool. What fun! Then Mr. G turned the sprinkler on. Giggles ensued. Damn, the water was cold! We kept having to get out to warm up.

Mr. G went inside for a while and I decided to turn the sprinkler off. I accidentally turned the knob the wrong way and doused our entire deck. That gator spouts water like 50 feet in the air! I ain't kiddin', folks. Oh course, Junior demanded, "do it again, Mommy!". He likes big action.

I found out later that Mr. G had gotten been to TWO stores looking for a pool. He scored the Rockin' Gator Pool at Wal-mart. It was the last one they had. The last pool in the entire store. And it was only $14.99.

Who says you gotta spend big to have big fun?

Cagey - this note's for you!***

* I get 10 Scrabble points for using that word in a post. Ha!
** That one's for you, Michael.
***I'm posting this without proofreading at ALL. It's killing me! DAMN!

The Perfect Holiday Weekend

Ah! My perfect holiday weekend. I nearly killed Mr. Goofy from all the scheduled activities, but I had a blast.

Saturday
9:00am: Leave for Omaha.
12:00noon: Arrive at Omaha Zoo. Entire town of Omaha already there. Must park about 1 mile away. Have picnic lunch under a tree in the parking lot. Already 95 degrees in shade.
12:30pm: Go into Zoo. Goofy Junior (GJ) becomes obsessed with a freaking peacock, instead of the much cooler monkeys, lemurs and otters.
1:00pm: Stand in line for zoo train with 300 people. In the sun. After 5 minutes, decide walking is better. See bears. See cats. GJ wants to to "touch the tiger". Becomes very frustrated with the glass between him and the giant tiger with very large teeth.
2:45pm: Enter Kingdom of the Night exhibit. Ah....it's cool in here. But very dark. It's a 'things that live in caves' theme. GJ decides to meltdown in the Kindom of the Night. Mr. Goofy & I rush from room to room, in the dark, with crowds of people we can't really see, with a toddler screaming "I WANNA WALK!", looking for an exit. I think it was a cool exhibit, but I saw it at light speed.
3:00pm: Head off to hotel. Mr. Goofy pulls out sofabed for GJ, who decides that it makes an excellent trampoline. Mr. Goofy lays down for nap.
3:01pm: Mr. Goofy asleep. GJ playing jungle gym on the sofabed.
4:30pm: Mr. Goofy awakes. GJ and I are still entertaining ourselves. We take showers (GJ takes a bath) and we head out in search of dinner.
5:30pm: We find ourselves in the Old Market area of Omaha. Very cool. We quickly realize that we are much too casual for some of the places and with our toddler "accessory", probably not welcome in some. We end up an a nice microbrewery that appears kid-friendly.
7:30pm: Head back to hotel. Jammies for all, book for GJ, and everyone to bed. GJ will not sleep while he can see us (no separate rooms, dammit, just one large one..note to self to not do this again). I want to read, so I make a comforter "tent" so GJ cannot see me.
10:30pm: GJ finally falls asleep. We all do.

Sunday
7:00am: Wake up. Take shower. Not a peep from GJ, who is in the same position as when he fell asleep. Okay, so it takes a 3-hour drive and a zoo trip to wear him out. Good to know.
8:30am: Head over for hotel-provided breakfast. Not too shabby. GJ drops peach bit on floor, then steps on it, then complains that his Beloved Flip-Flops* are dirty. We ignore this.
10:00am: Packed. Back in the car. GJ doesn't want to leave the hotel. It seems he kinda liked it. Good to know!
11:00am: Decide to stop by Arbor Day Farms. It's an outdoor farm-exploratory-tour-celebration-o'-trees. Looks fun. Find out it's a two-hour walk. Too late to turn back now...
1:00pm: After much tree fun, we are starved. Stop at the overpriced and under-yummy cafe on premises. I buy a much-needed bird identification book (what! It was a trip highlight for me)
1:30pm: Back on the road... For about 20 minutes, GJ falls asleep. Then he's back up, entertaining us.
4:00pm: Back in KC, just in time to...prepare for a picnic! We unpack, I make some BBQ beans, we gather kid sports equipment, illegal wine for the park, etc. Change clothes and do cat baths so we don't smell like trees.
5:00pm: We need brots! Only ones available at the store are frozen solid. We figure we can leave in the freaking hot sun and they will thaw in time. We will see.
5:20pm: Arrive to picnic in park with friends. Much fun, food and frolicking done by all. With no park rangers in sight, we happily drink our illegal wine. Shhhhh...don't tell!
7:30pm: Picnic adjourns. Head home.
8:30pm: I went through the last month's worth of mail, sorting and shredding. Ugh.

Monday
8:30am: We are off work! Drop GJ off at daycare and head out for mountain bike ride. ** We decided to try a new trail. One closer to home.
9:30am: I am hating the new trail. It start out hard and gets harder. I always have this 'warm-up' period with single-track before I feel comfortable. Much complaining and huffing from me.
10:00am: It is hot. SO freaking hot. We are not in the sun, but in the woods, there is no breeze. It is like biking in a sauna. Gasp.
10:30am: Getting used to the trail finally. Kinda liking it.
11:00am: Done! We take the paved trail back to the car. Ah! The breeze is wonderful. We pack up bikes and head to Panera Bread for lunch.
12:00noon: Decide some errands are in order.
1:00pm: Back at home. We are tired, sweaty and have to pee. And...our maid is still there! We consider going away and coming back, but decide we are just too tired. We unpack the car while she is finishing up.
2:00pm: Cleanup and basically waste the rest of the day.
5:30pm: Pick up GJ from school and meet friends for a yummy Mexican dinner. Ole!
8:00pm: Watched "Chronicles of Narnia", while concurrently doing laundry. Very good (the movie, not the laundry). I remember reading "The Lion, the Witch and Wardrobe" and loving it...although I had forgotten the plot.

Tuesday
8:00am: Took dogs for a walk. It's still sauna-city outside. Yuk.
8:30am: Watched GJ's newest arrival from Blockbuster.com, "Monsters, Inc." What a great movie.
10:00am: Made a gooey butter cake *** for the July 4th party tonight.
12:00noon: Leftover Mexican food for lunch. Yum.
1:30pm: GJ actually takes a real nap! Without bribery, screaming or mayhem! We don't know what to do with ourselves! I watch a bit of my real estate investing DVD, which promptly puts Mr. Goofy to sleep.
3:00pm: Shower, pack up and head to July 4th celebration at friends' house.
5:00pm: Party! Pizza, beer, fireworks, friends. What fun! One of GJ's little friends is at the party, so he has a grand ole time.
6:00pm: Mr. Goofy complains to all that will listen that I have been running him ragged all weekend. Everyone reacts with a "well, you married her" type of answer. Ha-ha.
9:00pm: With much crying and sadness (mainly from GJ), we depart. We see many fireworks displays on the way home, all of which GJ points out to us, with the same expression of wonderment and glee.
10:00pm: We all pass out. I recount the wonderfulness of a long weekend, jam-packed with fun and new experiences, along with some good old traditions too. Man, it was hard to go to work today!

* Is anyone else's toddler simply OBSESSED with flip-flops? GJ wears these things to bed! And the smallest size of boy's flip-flips (read as: no pink, no glitter, no Dora) is 3 sizes too big...so these things are like snowshoes on him. Flip, flop, flip, flop, flip, flop...at least we can hear him coming.
** We probably would have slept late this day, but our maid was coming at 9:00am and she hates it when we are still in bed when she shows up.
*** This link goes to the recipe I actually use. I get rave reviews everywhere I bring this cake. And it takes one bowl, no measurements. Easy, easy...

The Accidental Detox Weekend

As noted in my previous post, this past weekend was a vacation. We left Thursday night after work and traveled to St. Louis. We spent the night with Mr. Goofy's parents and they kept Goofy Junior for the weekend. We headed off Friday morning to Missouri Wine Country.

My intent was to relax, de-stress, enjoy the company of some friends, eat well, drink some wine. As usual in the Goofy world, my plans got derailed.

Oh it started out well. Mr. Goofy and I landed at the Augusta Brewing Company for a microbrew and lunch. Mmmmm....I had a German-style Maibock beer. It was delicious. The lunch was not so great, but it was Friday afternoon at a place that really doesn't get busy until the 'true' weekend - Friday night - Saturday night. Our friends met us there and we proceeded to our first winery of the day.

So we are standing there at the first winery, sipping away, and I start to get the cold sweats. My stomach does a great big double roll and I get the shakes. This was WAY too early in the wine tasting to be anywhere near drunk (especially since I was pacing myself), so I was confused. I excused myself and went outside to sit down. It helped enough to get me to the next winery.

The next winery was awesome! Very cold inside, great wine, great hosts. As we were standing there sipping some yummy wine, I looked over and saw a Coke machine. Gads! Could it be Diet Coke withdrawl that I was going through? Still!!?!? It had been almost two weeks since I quit. But I couldn't think of another reason. But I was feeling better, so I plodded on.

Our last winery of the day was a small, out of the way place. The owner was this 70-year-old character, that took us downstairs to his cellar to taste some wine not even out of the stainless steel barrel yet! He talked our ears off, but we loved every minute of it. This guy had first tried making wine many years ago, and said it was "horrible. You could have cut it with a knife." But instead of giving up, he enrolled in UC-Davis to learn how to make wine. Years later, he is pulling in medals left and right for his wines, and selling out each bottling.

I should have been loving this experience, but I had this nagging ache in between my eyeballs, that was becoming hard to ignore. Since it was around 6:00pm (closing time for the wineries), we headed off in search of our B&B. We took a few 'detours' (we got lost) and finally made it there around 7:00pm.

At this point, I felt on the verge of death. I had two searing hot knives stuck in the corners of each eyeball (at least it felt like it) and my stomach was doing the wave. I couldn't decide whether my head or my stomach was going to implode first. I barely made it upstairs before passing out on the bed. A very worried Mr. Goofy did what he could until Grouchy Me told him to "get out!", so he went to dinner with our friends.

I re-surfaced around 9:30pm, feeling like I had slept about 20 minutes (in actuality about 2 hours!) and the headache was gone. I still felt very shaky but managed to eat some dinner that Mr. Goofy (Oh-Boy-Do-I-Love-Him!) brought me back from the home-made fried chicken place.

After all that, the next day I bounced out of bed and rode my bike 23 miles on the KATY trail.

So, did I detox the Diet Coke? Did I get a bad sandwich at lunch? Did I get really, really carsick? Spectulation ensued, but I don't think I'll ever know. I'm just happy to be back in the land of the living. And still aspartame-free!

NOTE: While surfing around for a link for the word "aspartame" (and trying to figure out how to actually spell this word), I found a plethora of links to sites about "aspartame detoxification" and "aspartame kills". Damn! Who knew!?!?

Learn Something, Dammit

While I traipse off to Hermann, Missouri for the weekend - home of many fine wineries and....er, well, many fine wineries, here's my favorite Site du Jour:

The Word Detective

I found this site while trying to explain to someone the meaning of being a "pollyanna". We have a joint friend that's always getting herself into a pickle because she assumes that everyone, including strangers, are always looking after her best interest, instead of their own. I was beginning to think I had imagined this term, until I found it on this site.

It's good stuff for you if you're a logophile (lover of words) or a bibliophile (book lover) or glossophile (you really dig languages).

And if you love knowing the words for folks that love specific things, go here.

Feel smarter yet?

Brain Dead Goofy

I've lost half my brain! No, not my real brain...my electronic brain (aka my PDA). For about the last six years, I've used some sort of Personal Digital Assistant. I recently upgraded to the Treo 650.

My Treo 600 finally bit the digital bullet, so I got the 650. Upgrades on these things are always painful, so I was already gritting my teeth and crossing my fingers as I diligently uninstalled my old software, installed the new, and fired up the synch. Would my data come over to the new device? Would it stubbornly refuse to move? Would it vaporize into never-never land? Oh, the suspense...

As it turned out, everything synched perfectly... except for my calendar. One problem: the calendar is the main thing I use on my PDA. Anytime of the day or night, I can whip out my PDA and check my lunch plans, er, I mean my important business meetings.

So I called Sprint. They worked with me a while, then told me to call my company help desk. They worked with me a while, they decided a live person (let's call him Neo) actually needed to come take a look. Neo came and was very optimistic. "We'll get you going in no time!" he said. I had to love his attitude. I should have known better.

So after two days of Neo popping in and out of my life, disrupting my work flow, he finally discovered the problem. "Hey! You've got like six years of calendar on this thing!" (this said like I had been testing him this entire time or something). "You've blown up your account on the Outlook Exchange server. That's why things don't work."

"Er. I'm an information junkie," I admitted. "I need all that info. You never know when someone might ask me for the date of that Hatha Yoga class I took back in 2001. C'MON MAN...I GOTTA HAVE IT!" (this was followed up by much whining and groveling on my part to PLEASE NOT LOSE MY DATA). And so....

I lost my data.

Well, to be truthful, I only kinda lost my data. All six years of goodness are on my desktop computer, at work, not very portable at all. And I now have only a paltry three months of calendar on my PDA. I can almost remember that much stuff...what good is that?

The Sweet Life

I'm on my FOURTH DAY of no Diet Coke. I read a convincing article that talked about how the artificial sweetener in diet drinks (aspartame? saccharin? whatever it is nowadays) makes you used to the extra-sweet taste, so that you actually crave sweets more than normal. After reading this, and knowing how much I crave sweets on a daily (okay, okay...HOURLY) basis, I thought I'd try a week without Diet Coke.

This is no small endeavor. I drink DC all day long. I manage to not start until after lunch, but lunch is usually a QuickTrip 305-ouncer, which I suck down by 2:00pm and refill from the cans of DC I keep in the work fridge.

I started on Sunday. Even after much coffee, I quickly ran out of energy. Fortunately, Mr. Goofy needed a trip to the hardware store and took Junior with him, so a nap ensued. After that, I felt pretty good.

Monday was tricky. The bad news was: I keep a 12-pack of DC in the work fridge. The good new was: There was only one left! So even if I fell off the wagon, I would only fall 12 ounces. Monday was also very stressful, but I managed to persevere.

Tuesday morning a headache struck. Keep in mind...I'm still drinking just as much coffee, or more, so I doubt that this was a caffeine withdrawl headache. It was a Diet Coke withdrawl headache! How scary is that!? But I kept on keeping on...

Today went well. I realized today that I haven't had any cookies, cakes, donuts, pastries, cinnamon crunch bagels, or anything sweet other than fruit since I started my little "experiment". It just hasn't sounded good. I repeat: HOW SCARY IS THAT?!?!?

This realization is especially scary. I am the sweet tooth extraordinaire. My nickname after two months in my new department was "Donut Queen". Every roommate I've ever had has gained weight after living with me more than three months. It's something I've just grown used to.

I'm optimistic about the rest of the week. We have a picnic Thursday night, so I'll probably stick with water (or beer). Friday we are going to The Yard House with some friends, so it would be rude to not drink beer, right? Then Saturday we have our company picnic, so I'll try to stick with water, as much highly-competitive volleyball, badminton and horseshoes will certainly ensue. After that, we go to a three-year-old's birthday party, where there will hopefully be some adult bevs for the parent-types.

So, ding, dong...the Donut Queen is dead. Love live the Beer Queen. Oh wait...maybe this isn't such a clever idea...