We are Members of the Rabble

I think it is safe to say that my status as a geek has been confirmed. Heck, you could probably say that our entire family are card-carrying members of geekdom. Why do I say this?
Read on, MacDuff.

One day last week, Boo came home from school announcing that his choir teacher had assigned the students (grades 4-6) some 'homework'; she wanted them to find a 'sad' song that the choir could learn and sing.

The next day, she clarified that the songs could not be about "relationships" (I'm assuming she meant romantic relationships), and had to be school-appropriate.

(I shudder to think what sort of responses she had initially received to call for *those* clarifications, heh)

Boo's initial song idea fell flat (I had tried to explain to him that it wouldn't fly), "I'm Sorry", by Alan Doyle.

It did, however, lead to a fun discussion between us about other, more appropriate songs.

As Himself was in the room at the time, he joined in the conversation.

We compiled a list. (and that's not the geeky part)

We hunted down lyrics. Well, not really, I think I already had most of the lyrics in my music binder. (this is starting to get a little geeky)

We ripped most of the songs on our list into MP3 files that Boo could give to his teacher that she might listen to them. (more than just a little obsessive/geeky)

                ~because~

Most of the songs, while we happen to think they're awesome, are not exactly ones that everyone knows. (Yep, definitely geeky)

Some are even what one would call 'filk'. (Oooh yeah, that's geekdom at its finest, right there).

And, because I have been blessed enough to have friends with musical talents, two of the songs were written by friends and/or acquaintances of ours. (über geek!)


Hello, my name is Bodi, and I am a geek.


Dork, even.


And I am OK with that.

I try to avoid posting about this sort of thing, but today, I rant

Timeshare Kitty was injured. I discovered her injuries on Sunday. I'm not a vet, but all of her symptoms indicated the most likely problem was a dislocated jaw. (Poor kitty!)

It was obvious she was uncomfortable (not cleaning herself, able to drink, but not really able to eat, her teeth were misaligned and she unable to close her mouth, which led to constant drooling and her tongue sticking out. Not precisely the most intelligent of looks for her ...

But she wasn't miserable with pain, and so we opted to wait to take her to our clinic rather than stress her out at the emergency clinic.

I called our clinic first thing yesterday morning- they couldn't have been open for more than two minutes- and told them about her injury and what I suspected was going on.
Took her in around noon, where they recommended an X-ray, which meant sedation. I get that- need to be sure what's of going on before messing about with things; they were unwilling to rule out a fracture without the x-ray.

I also understood the need for sedation. While she was fine with letting *us* touch her and try and peek in her mouth, she wasn't so keen on the vet's gloved hands doing the same...

They wrote up an estimate of the costs involved (including ‘worst case scenario’), we discussed the likelihood of some of the procedures needing to be done (such as surgery!), and went ahead with the x-ray and sedation.

We waited, since we wanted to know what was going on with her as soon as possible.
After nearly an hour, they finally called us back into the exam room, where they put the films up on the light board and told me they could neither confirm nor deny either a fracture *OR* a dislocation.
They told me they wanted to send me to *another* clinic for dental-quality x-rays. They said if it proved to be just a dislocation, the vets there would set it back into place immediately. I am, as previously stated, not a vet. But I looked at the films, and could see immediately that her jaw was out of place. I pointed out where things lined up on the right side versus the left.

But they still weren’t willing to go ahead and set it- they wanted to send us to the other clinic. Only it’s on the other side of town!

It was at this point that the Vet who’d been working with her admitted that no one at the clinic (that day, at least) had ever re-set a dislocated jaw in a cat before ...

Now, this is the heart of my frustration: I called in, explained the situation, came to my appointment (meaning I am “on the hook” for the exam, of course), agreed to the X-ray and sedation, and it’s NOW that you’re telling me your machine can’t take adequate images for what you need, and that you aren’t really certain about how to help my cat?

Couldn’t you, honestly, have led with that? Honestly, it’s not about the money. Not for me, at least; Himself, however, was quite put out about the extra money). They didn’t charge me for the X-rays, since they felt they weren’t very helpful- and the cat seemed much happier after waking up from the sedation, so perhaps it eased some clenched muscles or some such ... But I paid out $133 to be told I’d have to take her to someone else to pay more money to have similar, if not the same, procedures performed on her there?

Because, you know, I have *so* much spare time kicking around that I can afford to rearrange my schedule to make a second appointment during the height of rush hour at a location that’s 30 minutes away withOUT traffic ...

Don’t get me wrong; we (Himself came with) DID take her to the other clinic.

They examined her and agreed that a fracture was highly unlikely and it really did look like a dislocation. “Since the other clinic sent you here for dental x-rays, we’ll do them.” (Her tone suggested that she didn’t see the necessity, but I guess professional courtesy dictates that they respect the other clinic’s recommendation)

They advised against waiting, asking instead for a phone number we could be reached at. By this time, it was just after 5PM, and they estimated she’d be ready to be picked up by 8PM.

We opted not to go home, given the gas and time involved. We went instead for dinner. By 6PM, they called us to say that yes, her jaw was dislocated. No fractures evident. In fact, they’d already re-set it by the time they’d called. She was doing well, and we could pick her up in 45 minutes.

No surgery, either. They gave her some antibiotics because she had a puncture wound in her mouth which was looking infected, and they gave us some anti-inflammatory meds to help her with any discomfort.

All’s well that ends well, and in the grand scheme of things, that’s what matters most, but I am still frustrated by how our vet’s clinic handled the matter.

Ah well, it’s only money, right? And I must confess, it was rather nice to have an impromptu date with Himself. Plus, we had an extra treat; we got to watch Boo's Karate class :-)

It's my brother's fault

That I'm a Doctor Who fan. Back in the '80's, Prairie Public Television (PPTV, or PBS, as it was known in those days) picked up the original series and would show it on Friday nights.

My eldest brother had watched it as a child (first run!) when we lived in Ireland, so naturally he was interested when it became available here ... It was one of the few things all three of us would watch together without complaint.

Then my brother A's friend told us about a Doctor Who group he'd heard about- right here in the city. They met once a month to watch episodes (sometimes un-aired or 'lost' episodes), and discuss the show.

A and I went with him to one of these meetings. I don't think they ever went back, but I sure did ...

And I made some fantastic friends, most of whom are still in my life today.

Incidentally, it is also through these friends that I eventually met Himself.

Ironic, isn't it, that Himself claims not to be a Doctor Who fan?

Having said that, I should point out that he watched an episode with me last week and may have remarked: "Hmm, that's a really interesting concept."

gotcha.

22 years ...

September the 22nd, 1990 was, like today, a Saturday.

I spent the afternoon with a friend, drinking tea, chatting, and doing some art together. We'd made a habit of it, getting together at least once a month back in those days, and as always, we'd had a fabulous time.

I'd been a bit unsettled that day, however, and found it difficult to focus on the piece I was working on at the time. I couldn't shake the feeling that something big was going to happen that evening.

Eventually, we packed up our art materials for the day, and went downtown to meet some other friends for dinner and dancing- it was to be a birthday/going away party- at a restaurant which, sadly, no longer exists.

I still found myself full of nervous energy as we seated ourselves at the long table which had been reserved for us, and I started fidgeting with my sunglasses.

People started to arrive, and I continued to fidget, eventually breaking the arm off of my sunglasses. The birthday was mine, as was the going-away, and my dear friend and her boyfriend were organising everything, including the guest list. My friend had told me who she had invited, but I was still surprised to see a tall guy walk in with another friend of ours.

I'd met him before, but not under the best of circumstances- I was left with the impression that he was a jerk, and he, I later learned, that I was "stuck up".  I didn't really know him other than his name, and that he was a high school friend of my friend's boyfriend and a few others who were there.

I was still fidgety and nervous, and as dinner proceeded, I found myself throwing bits of paper napkin at "this guy". I even threw the arm of my broken sunglasses at him. Partway through the evening, it occured to me that I was flirting with him.

After dinner was done, the DJ started up the music, and we started dancing. For some reason, I ended up back at the table with just "this guy" and our mutual friend, Dave.

(I'm guessing the song that was playing was one for which I didn't care)

We were chatting about various things (I honestly don't recall anymore what we were discussing) when the DJ changed the tempo of the music- a slow set.

The first song was "Lady in Red", by Chris de Burgh, which was very popular at the time, and I found myself singing along, as was my habit (still is). "this guy" noticed, and asked me to dance.

"This guy", dear readers, is now my husband, and has been for the past eighteen years.

We've been dancing ever since ...

Quiet Weekend ...

Himself went out of town this past weekend, and The Boy (aka the eldest) went with him. For a change, it was *not* work-related, they went to Brandon for PrairieCon. Call it a guys' weekend away, if you will. (All indications are that they had a great time, btw. So great, in fact, that they didn't have a moment to call home at all- a transgression for which I would have heard much grief had it been me- but I digress)

The Princess was pretty much gone all weekend herself, between work and plans with friends. This means it was quiet. The younger boys and I passed the time by hanging out with my sister on Friday (which included a dinner out at an amazing vietnamese place, Thanh Huong), Saturday, the boys chilled at home while I went to a coffee meeting around lunchtime, then had a second meeting with good friends while we plotted for world domin- er, planned a suite for an event next spring.

Came home, took Boo to his guitar lesson (wherein he showed off his new guitar pick) and visited with another friend who wasn't up for going to the other two meetings. The boys destroyed the kitchen in the process of making their dinner, but it meant I didn't have to rush home to cook, so I was OK with dealing with the aftermath ...

Sunday we went for a bikeride. Well, Boo and Squeak went with me, the Viking opted to stay home and watch TV "study for his English exam".

We stopped for popsicles on the way back, and since I only remembered about baseball practice after we got home, so we kinda missed that ... Oops!


But I have to admit, it was really nice not to be in a huge time crunch all weekend.



Hmm ... maybe I should send Himself away more often? ;-)

Absence makes the heart grow ...

Insomniac?

Himself is away this week, which tends to make life around here a "wee bit" challenging.
Not just the lack of an extra person to help ferry the Minions of Chaos to their various activities (although that does present its challenges!), but also because, after nearly 22 years together, not having him here is rather like misplacing half of one's body- disorienting, to say the least.

Don't get me wrong, everyone has so far made it out to all of their games/practices/trainings and/or classes- I've arranged a ride or two, staggered pick-ups and drop offs, and our daughter has graciously driven her little brother (and his best friend) to and from karate both nights this week (doesn't hurt that her boyfriend also attends the same dojo and usually goes and helps teach Littlest Man's class ;-)).

We even managed to have a (sort of) laid-back evening at home last night- one which involved my setting up our new television set (the sort of task that would normally fall to Himself, but, alas, the TV didn't arrive before he left). There's something tremendously satisfying about managing to tackle that sort of a task whilst he's away, because normally, I'm pretty pleased that the house is still standing upon his return ...

Not that it ever is in mortal peril, but often, by the time we get to "the day before" or the day of his return, everyone seems to be a little strung-out. I often wonder if they're feeding off of my anxiety in that regard, as I do tend to get the worst case of insomnia whenever Himself is away ... (witness the timestamp on this blog post)

What can I say? I like having him here; he grounds me. We get by in his absence, but it's not the same without him. Himself and I typically manage to speak to one another several times throughout the day (our long distance phone plan rocks), and whenever something happens, he's usually the first person I want to tell.

Currently, we have just over 36 hours until Himself returns home. Thus far, the house still stands, the animals are still speaking to me, no one has missed an activity, and I have a cake to bake for the soon-to-be twelve year old's birthday party on Saturday ...

Film at 11.