Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Obstacle Christmas Complaints

We have a small house, and just like all aging people, we have accumulated stuff. Up until recently we had just the right amount of furniture, but in the past two months we added cat detritus (litter boxes, food dishes) and  we  Gary added mitigation devices (Hepa shop vacs, Hepa vacuums, humidifiers, and full-size floor air purifiers in five rooms, no I am not kidding). 

So, the house is a bit of an obstacle course to get through. There are several things that could be shifted to the basement (the standing globe, the step-stool chair) but Gary insists he loves those things and they must be within sight. I can't walk through the great room at night: there's no path. The computer room looks like a model of the solar system I made in grade school: no space between the planets, Gary's chair is the center sun, all the moons sprinkled through the voids. 

And then to add Christmas to this? Not a chance. The hanging tree is staying in the basement and we can visit it if we feel festive. Besides, the tree blocks the ledge the cat likes to jump on. The only festive spot might be the porch, where the reindeer go, but honestly I cannot cram another object into my visual field. There is no negative space.

It's not at hoarder level, but add one more thing and it will be. My dad was a borderline hoarder, but at least he constrained it to one room. 

Weekly Paint Progress: 12/7

This week the mandolin went from this:

... to this.

Because if the drawing's off you cant go anywhere. And the top of the vase is still wrong, ugh.

Gary Is Profane

Gary was complaining about the drywall dust again, saying the overhead air vents suck up the dust and then “Just fart it back out over our heads.”

I was gobsmacked. "Did you just say ... the 'F' word?"

"Yes," he said, viciously. "Fart. Fartfartfart. That's how mad I am."

"You have demanded I say ‘poot’ for decades, like a CHILD, and now you embrace 'fart'?"

Sometimes with aphasia elderly people can only curse and sing. Perhaps he has had a mini-stroke? 

Treasure at Work

I am bereft. My work team is losing our most recent addition, a woman who is just a treasure. Let's call her Treasure. 

Below is an example of why I am going to miss Treasure. 

============

I was displaying my water bottle to my team.

I wanted them to notice it is stamped with my least favorite phrase. 

I held it up to the camera. "Look at this thing!"

Treasure said, "Clearly, that is a uterus."

=======

Treasure is being wrested from our team, but I hold out hope she will be shuffled back in someday.

 

The Purpose of the Initial Penicillin Test

I thought the initial blood test was to determine if I was allergic to your basic penicillin, but on further reading, no. It seems the initial blood test determines if you are at risk of anaphylaxis when you get the skin test.

I passed the first test, so my next visit is the skin test. I am to purchase three tablets of penicillin and its derivatives, and then I suppose they grind that up and poke it under my skin.

But what I don't understand is: that when I've had drug allergies in the past I never react on the first dose.  (Dose 1 of sulfa, fine. Took dose 2 right before giving a speech. Asked if there were any questions at the end and every hand shot up. “Do you know your face just doubled in size?” )

So, it takes two doses: one to make the antibodies and one to use the antibodies. Everyone’s like this, right? So do I get two skin tests?

Well, at the moment it is moot because the pharmacists aren’t on duty at the local Walgreens, so, I can’t get the requisite tablets. 

TWIL: Cats and Yarn

This week I learned that while you may purchase automated snakes:

... your cat will still prefer the classic ball of yarn, especially if you make it wiggle like an automated snake. 

However, the most important thing I learned was from a friend, who said cats should not play with yarn unattended. The yarn can get stuck on their tongue barbs, then they swallow the yarn. which proves fatal. (Though somehow the same thing wasn’t fatal to R. Crumb’s brother Maxim.)

New Dimension to the Family Dynamic

So, Gary and I had a disagreement, like all married couples. I don't imagine all couples disagree as loudly as Gary and as tearfully as I do, but there it is.

The interesting thing was that Goldie the cat came into the room at the height of the fight, walked over to me, and began licking my toe. Then he turned to Gary and stared impassively at him as if to say, “I have made my decision.”

I look forward to Goldie's upcoming judgments. 

 

 

Overexfoliance

I have gone all in on the Exfolikate exfoliant, even unto buying the three-part system with the cleanser, exfoliant, and ... moisturizer, I think?

What I have found is that while I could easily use the exfoliant, when I apply it after using the cleanser, Lord, it burns, it burns. Then  I apply the moisturizer, thinking that's the point of the moisturizer, to correct the burning, but it does not soothe me. Then I have red skin for days, with contrasting white eye sockets. (" Do not use near eyes" Kate says.) Yet I am so, so soft. 

Weekly Paint Progress: 11/30

This week the mandolin went from this:

... to this.

That vase is too asymmetric.

 

Give Me All the Penicillin

Well, Mom-in-my-head, it could be that all your concern about penicillin was for naught. The first test, the blood test, came back negative.

This document from the Centers for Disease Control sort of agrees with the first allergist’s claim that you can be “allergic one day and not the next,” if you rephrase it as “allergic one decade and not the next.” And I’m not done; I still need to do a skin test to see if I might be allergic to the derivatives like Keeflex. 

But mark me safe from old-school penicillin. Of course there’s not much I can do with this information other than go out and get syphilis.

Deception Level

Even though I have the medical exemption and I won't have to come to the office, there will be some occasions when my attendance is required. One of those is in a little over a month.

Have I begun planning my outfit? Of course I have. Makeup? It's complicated.

The last time my coworkers saw me, I wore makeup. Foundation, eyeshadow, lipstick, but no mascara or blush, because mascara and blush combined with the rest exceeds my deception tolerance. On the rare occasions I wore mascara or blush I dialed back either eyeshadow or lipstick. 

Only now I have the ultimate lie perched on top of my head: a wig. This blows the deception algorithm out of the water.

For Zoom calls with the wig I’ve been wearing nothing but a touch of eyebrow pencil on my left eyebrow. Not the right, the right’s fine, and it’s partially covered by the wig anyway, but the left side of my left eyebrow needs some augmentation. 

But in a little over a month, I will be face-to-face with my team without the Zoom filter. They will all see my lashless lizard eyelids in person. 

Right now I think I am comfortable with this level of deception: wig, mascara, tinted moisturizer, lipstick until I eat something then that’s it for the lipstick, and the left eyebrow pencil. And that just goes on the outer half of the left eyebrow. For the full eyebrow I would have to deduct the tinted moisturizer.

How does this work for other people? Do women with breast augmentation stop conditioning their hair? Or is this just me?

Yet Another Special Post from Goldie the Cat

I want to report some cat abuse. I have been very content to eat the brand of moist cat food with which I am most familiar. Now they have switched my food to some high-protein New Zealand brand.

For some reason the Teatless One -- autocorrect just suggested Twatless One, heh-- Teatless gave me some lamb-bone flavored protein. It was vile. You could taste the New Zealand clam shells mixed in. Very strong. Distasteful. 

I could have  told him that I cannot abide lamb.  There are also tins of mackerel and venison.  I suppose I will have to sniff those as well, then paw pointedly on the bin where they store my preferred brand.

Humans are so dim-witted sometimes.

TWIL: Cats Need Mouse Bones

Gary came in all excited. “CATS NEED PROTEIN AND THEY RECOMMEND YOU FEED THEM GROUND-UP MOUSE BONES.”

I wasn't sure who “they” were in this sentence. EXPERTS, he said.

“Why wouldn't we just feed him mice,” I asked. “Get a mouse from PetSmart, like the ones they feed to snakes, then put it in the bathroom with Goldie. He would love that.”

“NO THAT IS DISGUSTING.’”

“Two animals enter the bathroom: only one returns.”

“THEY ALSO SELL CANS OF FOOD WITH THE MOUSE BONES ALREADY GROUND UP.”

This explains why I saw three flavors of this in the Amazon cart yesterday: lamb, venison, and mackerel.

The venison one at least does contain bone.

“No gums,” the can says. 

I assume there’s no mouse flavor because opening a can and seeing a preserved mouse would be  off-putting. 

Review: Mike Birbiglia, The Old Man and the Pool

I was delighted to see a new Mike Birbiglia special on Netflix last night. I love what he does: making fun of his sleep issues in Sleepwalk with Me, his love life in My Girlfriend's Boyfriend, and babies in The New One. Also, I believe he’s married to someone from Saint Louis, and he gets some entirely irrational points for that.

The latest special centers on death and doctors and families who don’t say “I love you.” Right up my alley. 

A Very Special Guest Post from Goldie the Cat

First of all, don’t expect much because writing this post is cutting into my sleep time. I got no sleep yesterday because the One With Teats was making turkey WHICH I DID NOT GET and then No Teats was watching a loud football game.

I got my revenge at two in the morning when I said the only human word I know, “Meow,” in a variety of inflections.  “MEOW, meow meow .. MEOWMEOW.” That woke them both up. Now if I could fill the house with strange cats who want to touch them we would be even.

I need to go. Teats keeps trying to scratch my chin.