youlookthesame

2008-07-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

Urgh. Bills.

2008-07-17T21:52:00.000-07:00

Today was my last day at work. Everyone kept asking if I was going to cry. Eh - no. With everything that has been going on, leaving a job I loved in an industry that is dying, and has been dying, would have made me cry if my brother hadn't been blown up. But I've got a little perspective on happiness these days.

Luckily I didn't have to hug too many people, but I realized they needed to hug me. I was actually surprised with how many people were tearing up at my departure. I loved my job, loved the people I supervised, respected a good number of the people I worked with. (There are always those glaring exceptions that makes me wonder how wrapped up and selfish people are that they lack the self awareness that people slump, roll their eyes or try to spend as little time with them as possible whenever they approach. And they're always the people who think they do a good job and really don't and are a pain in the ass.)

Nope, what almost got me was when I was walking out the door and said "Good-bye!" to the room at large and pained, sentimental "Byyyeeeee" rang out in unison from the newsroom.

2008-07-02T20:29:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, I'm moving to Iowa City, Iowa.

That's right. Yes, I know it was recently underwater.

The Boyfriend was accepted to the Iowa's Writer's Workshop. Pulitzer Prize writers went through there. Flannery O'Connor. Kurt Vonnegut. Yeah, he's a bad ass, and I'm so proud.

So, I'm doing the thing none of you thought this Feminist from Hell would do. I've quit my job and I'm moving. I don't have a job yet, and that scares me just a bit. A lot, really. But I'm so excited at the same time.

My brother received a Purple Heart. Oh, and he's back at Bethesda for more surgery. Maybe look for him tomorrow. Supposedly Dubya is headed to Bethesda for a ceremony and my brother has to be there in his wheelchair. Watch CNN, ya'll.

2008-06-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

I so can't believe Tim Russert died! I've spent most of the day watching all the cable news shows about him.

However, my brother stood up on his own. I'm so pleased.

And this year, I'll do exceptionally well in swimming - there is only one other woman on my team in my age group. And the other teams only have a couple women. None of them swim butterfly. I'm gonna sweep the season in fly! Woo hoo!

2008-06-09T07:51:00.000-07:00

I think some students, no matter where you go, think they're smarter than everyone. In this NPR report, I shake my head at those graduates. Boy, with 5.5 percent unemployment and rampant job freezes and down sizing, I hope they are as confident they'll keep their jobs and not move back in with their parents a they are about how bad a speaker J.K. Rowling was at Harvard.

Urgh, I know people that went to Harvard and they are not this superior. Jeez, how many Harvard grads from this class will go on to achieve what J.K. Rowling will achieve? This woman, who was on welfare, wrote a book that motivated millions of kids to read, set up numerous charities and foundations helping children and single parents.

Yeah, unworthy to speak at Harvard. Jackass.

2008-05-31T12:51:00.000-07:00

I saw my brother last weekend. He looked so good. I asked if I could see his medical ID bracelet. He held up his arm and screamed "OOOOW!" as loud as he could. He had his trach tube removed the day before and was speaking in a hoarse whisper all day. I jumped back, horrified that I had just hurt him in some manner.

The little shit started laughing. "Gotcha!"

I'm told it's fantastic he has his sense of humor. At that moment, I didn't agree.

2008-05-22T09:38:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow, I'm headed to Boston to see my brother. I haven't seen him awake yet. I can barely get through the day. I'll be willing the plane to go faster, the T (Boston subway) to not make any stops before it gets me to the hospital. Nothing is going to move fast enough for me tomorrow.

(Oh, I'm riding on a turbo prop plane from here to Indianapolis. I may start drinking early in the morning, so someone might get a drunken dial at 8 a.m. CST.)

2008-05-20T22:12:00.001-07:00

The phone rang, it was my sister-in-law.

"Hey, someone wants to talk to you."
"Heeey, Seeeaaal."

I almost dropped the phone. My brother was on the other end of it. Speaking very, very slowly, grasping for a words, but it was his voice. We only spoke for a couple of seconds, him just saying yes or no, or just a word to convey what he wanted to say, but it was him.

One more baby step in a long journey, but hey, it's a huge step.

I'm on my way to Boston this weekend to see him. He's at a brain rehabilitation center, and talking is huge. Some with his injury never read or write again, and he's doing both. Some can't even walk again, but the doctors are confident he will.

Ever forward.

2008-05-13T22:48:00.000-07:00

My boss is on vacation for three weeks, so, yeah, I'm stressed and overworked. Just like everyone.

However, I'm in the process of downloading the new Old 97s CD! Yay!

My brother is doing much better. In fact, they're transferring him up to the rehabilitation center in Boston. This is fantastic news. Bad, because I can't see him for a little while longer (I was going home this weekend) but good because he's improving. I haven't seen him awake yet, and it makes me cry. I know that my family is telling him I was there, but I have been the odd man out on getting back there. My timing sucks.

I just want tell my brother I love him face to face.

2008-05-03T07:19:00.000-07:00

Chester Copperpot
Last night, The Boyfriend and I celebrated a year together. He took me to a wonderful restaurant and we hard one of the best meals and wine I have ever had.

Okay, now to the interesting stuff.

The restaurant is in an old store front in the historic part of town. If people come and go, you have to move out of the way or hold the door. Someone from the window seat got up to take a phone call. We couldn't see who it was, the window seats jut out past the door. I held the front door open so this person, being polite, could speak freely outside.

It was Rudy. Sam, Frodo's friend. Mikey Walsh, the leader of the Goonies.

That's right, Sean Astin. And man is he a wee guy.

(By the way, looking at his IMDB profile there, his first acting gig is "Please Don't Hit Me, Mom." I know the subject matter isn't funny, but I can't help but giggle. How about "Please don't exploit my talents for money, mom." Ah, child actors.

Rudy was in town stumping for Hillary. He had been making appearances and working the phone banks with Mary Steenburgen and Ted Danson.

The Boyfriend, who loves to stir the pot and watch me squirm, wanted to lead the restaurant in chanting "RUDY! RUDY! RUDY!" We did keep a constant hiss of "Chester Copperpot" back and forth between us. Although The Boyfriend did constantly talk like Sloth from that movie, which did not go unnoticed by other patrons.

Wanting to actually see him, The Boyfriend went out to smoke and peer in the windows. So I take the moment to call my mom and get an update on my brother.

My baby brother is waving at people as they come to see him.

I started crying I was so happy. This is huge, this is monumental, and I've now turned into a blubbering mess in a very nice restaurant. The Boyfriend rushes back in, and I tell him. And, if you know me, if I fall apart, whether good or bad, I lose all control over any coordination. I was spilling water, food, oh and my wine. Which I did in front of Sean Astin as he came over to ask if I was ok.

Well, he came over because The Boyfriend engaged him about appearances around town. I wasn't really overjoyed about that because I slowly turning into the late Tammy Faye. They chatted, Rudy asked if I was ok. All I said is that I just got some really good news. The Boyfriend explained. And Rudy moved in for the hug.

First off, I don't hug. I don't like my personal space to be violated, but he was trying to be so nice. But then he kissed my shoulder. So. Weird. And I was trying not to crack up and I could tell The Boyfriend was too.

And to make it weirder, he started his talking points about benefits for wounded Veterans and why Hillary was the one for the job. Urgh. He's a nice guy, but he can't stray from his script, he's not good at improv.

Rudy then gave us VIP passes to the Hillary / Mellencamp appearance in Indianapolis tonight, which we can't go, so we gave them away.

But as he left the restaurant, both of his hissed, "CHESTER COPPERPOT" one more time.

2008-04-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

I'm off tomorrow to go back home to see my brother. My sister-in-law called tonight with good news. He responded to commands, was trying so hard with the physical therapist to move his arm and legs. He's been yawning and even managed a smile at one point. His last four bacteria cultures have been negative.

Long road ahead. Very, very long road ahead. My sister-in-law sounded relieved, and that is good.

Turns out, it wasn't an IED that hit him it was EFP, which stands for Explosively Formed Projectile, compliments of Iran and favored weapon according to Shiite militias, according to the boyfriend. Whose job it is to report this shiznit.

I'd describe how an EFP works, but google it. I'm sure those descriptions would do a much better job. It's scary.

2008-04-22T01:48:00.001-07:00

So, David gave me a little grief about not posting about the earthquake. But in a circular reasoning way, it's his fault.

Wednesday afternoon, just after I sent him a "Happy Birthday" e-mail, knowing that it was already "tomorrow" in Ukraine, my heart, to put it as Doogie Howser would, freaked out.

For more than five minutes, my heart was beating so fast, no one trained in first aid could count the pulse. After two minutes, an ambulance was called. My heart then tried to regulate itself, speeding up and slowing down drastically, causing severe chest pains.

Now it wasn't a panic attack because I didn't have any other symptoms, no sweating, no thinking I was going to die. I was more calm than the people around me. What was annoying was feeling like an animal in a zoo. I hissed at the crowd, "Please back off, this is embarrassing as it is."

In the ambulance, the EMT's gave me two nitroglycerin pills because they could not get my heart rate under control.

"Are you under any stress?"

Ha.

The other favorite question of the day, asked by throngs of nurses and doctors at the hospital was, "Are you taking any illicit street drugs?" Even on morphine, I'm told I giggled endlessly.

In the emergency room, The Boyfriend cheered me up, cracking jokes. Poor guy returns from Iraq himself and a couple of days later he's sitting in an emergency room with his girlfriend. A young woman who was the victim of a hit-and-run that I sent someone to shoot was next to me in the hall. The woman who came from the paper made the joke that The Boyfriend could be the ultimate community journalist and go take a picture of her with his cell phone.

I was admitted overnight where I was poked and prodded. I had to do a cardio stress test at the crack of dawn. So, on Thursday, when I was released from the hospital with my heart monitor that looks like an iPod, I slept most of the day away.

So, at 4 a.m. on Friday morning, I got up to use the loo. I got back in bed, not sleepy, so I picked up the seventh Harry Potter book. Right at a part where Lord Voldemort is doing some evil, the room starts shaking. For a long time. My heart went a little a wacky, had to call it in.

"What were you doing when you pressed your heart monitor?"
"We had an earthquake."
Pause. "Seriously?"

And about 40 minutes after midnight last night, we had another quake. And tonight, Obama is in town. Sigh. I was supposed to be avoiding too much stress.

2008-04-14T22:00:00.000-07:00

Best. Phone call. EVER.

I have received a lot of sympathy in the past couple of weeks via e-mail, snail mail and phone. But the one that cheered me up the most, was the one that I received earlier this evening. It has cheered me up so much, I can't sleep because of the happiness.

At 11:30 Central Time, a friend of mine from college called to see how I was doing in light of my brother's tragedy. I was surprised by the call because it was so late at night, and she lives on the East Coast. It became apparent that my dear friend, who I e-mail with but haven't seen or spoken to in four years, was drunk dialing me. On a Monday night.

May I just say what I said to her when she admitted her condition: FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC.

Like most drunken dials, she said, "I want you to know, I love you" about fifty times. She giggled, made me laugh. She was on a work trip and they had gone out. I want to work where she does.

I said, "I wish I could have recorded this."
She responded, "Yeah, but then I would know how stupid I sound. I've repeated myself over and over."

No, not stupid. Best phone call I've gotten in years. It's the most I've laughed or smiled in weeks.

I look forward to returning the call in kind.

(My brother is doing much better. The doctor's seem to have his infection under control. We're peeking around the corner, not quite turning it yet.)

2008-04-12T17:03:00.001-07:00

My brother is stable. Doctors are still injecting antibiotics directly into his brain.

That's how sick he is.

I was running errands today (I'm back at my home) and would randomly start crying. This time of year is always bad for me anyway. Brent, both my grandparents, a friend from high school, died all around this time.

My brother came close. My cousin, who is an ER doctor, was allowed to look at his charts as a professional courtesy. He confirmed that he was as sick as he could get without dying.

I feel so utterly helpless and useless and so angry at the same time.

He's trapped in his head right now because of the sedation, probably reliving the blast. We can't talk to him because his heart rate and his blood pressure shoots up when we do so, and that's dangerous.

I just want him to know we love him. It's gut wrenching to know that trying to tell someone you love them could give them more damage from a useless war.

2008-04-10T18:42:00.001-07:00

Well, good vibes seem to be working. My brother still very very very critical. However, he's breathing above the ventilator. That means he's breathing on his own, but he uses the ventilator to get oxygen in his lungs - for pressure. It's kind of a back up.

It's not much, but with all the bad news we've had, it's something. He could backslide, but at least we're in a holding pattern.

2008-04-09T20:50:00.000-07:00

My brother is very day to day. Very, very precarious. Please, if ever there was a time to send good vibes, it's now.

2008-04-07T20:21:00.001-07:00

I'm so emotionally exhausted. Everyone is taking pot shots at everyone else. If one person forgets to divulge a piece information, it's viewed as a sin. People are arguing over the dumbest stuff, and I'm caught in the middle. I understand everyone is devastated. It tells me we all love my brother so much that we can't even think straight through our, well, I don't want to say grief. He's not dead.

That IED not only took his arm, but any hope of a "regular" life. At least a year of rehab - a year when he could be spending that time with his wife, his family, his friends, he'll be spending it learning to walk again and learning how to use a bionic arm. That's a conservative estimate. We'll have a new president and my brother will still be just trying to function with what the current one has wrought.

I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling angry. I'm tired of being the peacemaker. I'm just the impossible. I want my brother to not have gotten in that lead vehicle. I want to go back in time and have Florida election results actually investigated. I want to start this decade over.

2008-04-06T20:20:00.001-07:00

It's been a rough week. A week of this. This horror has made time bend, have no meaning, no end, no beginning.

My brother is still heavily sedated. He took a backslide, lots of little things went wrong from infections to viruses. The wonderful doctors have finally stopped the backslide. So now we're in a holding pattern. I couldn't get in to see him for two days because there was too much bad news. The doctors restricted his visitors.

We've started talking to the other families in the ICU waiting room. I'm sure it's some existential version of hell or one of Dante's circle. Everyone in that room is trying to salvage some form of their life. My mind swirls with the damage that has been done by this stupid war. A mother is happy that her son can finally get a skull after TWO YEARS of complications. Two.

I can't even think about it without getting angry and seeing my brother in that hospital bed without an arm. He was supposed to come home this coming Saturday.

I asked my mom if they found his wedding ring since he lost his left arm. The thought didn't cross her mind and there ain't no way in hell I'm bringing it up with my sister-in-law.

"I guess it's in the dirt in Baghdad." I made mom tear up. My dad, so upset by all of this, kind of freaked out because he was so struck with indecision on what to have for dinner. He kept saying, "I can't even come to a decision. I honestly don't know."

This just sucks.

2008-04-02T21:26:00.001-07:00

I know I deleted some posts. Let's just say the information is getting a little out of control and various family members want to pull back on the public knowledge.

Thanks for giving us some space.

2008-03-29T13:01:00.002-07:00

Oh my, I saw Francie's post about a smart president, but then I stumbled on this.

2008-03-29T12:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, below are pictures of me wearing frames that I'm interested in buying. Let me know what you think. (They're weird looking because I took them with my phone. It's hard not to cover up your face when taking a picture in a mini mirror.)

2008-03-28T16:39:00.000-07:00

I've had a plea, a plea to post. By both Ph!l and my sister-in-law. I just haven't thought about it.

I was at POY, then the boyfriend was getting ready to leave for Iraq - which is where he is now. (Sarcastic "yay" here.) Then there was me fighting the good fight at work. Ha, the old guard doesn't want to play ball - because they actually have to work. I can't think of another paper where there wouldn't be repercussions for me or the metro editor to storm away from the Managing Editor and not get called on the carpet for it. No one I know has respect for the ME, and the editor knows it.

Oh, I'm trying to buy new glasses. Later, I'll post pictures and you guys can help me decide. Sound good?

2008-02-22T18:55:00.000-08:00

I'm visiting David and watching some POYi judging. He's an excellent host. He's making me pizza!

2008-01-30T21:02:00.001-08:00

Urgh, I've been sick. And I'm addicted to Facebook. Get on there and find me.

Do ya'll have that person at work who is a superior and screws up EVERYONE'S day? We have someone like that, and it's rare that the annoyance crosses many departments. Urgh.

I've been cleaning out closets and packing boxes for a yard sale I will have in April. I'm getting rid of this crap, I may as well make some money off it all. Anyhow, I found a box of papers that I saved from Abilene. Apparently every page I designed or deemed important to keep in case I teach or it was going to be historically relevant. Oh, like the start of the Iraq war. Here are two telling headlines:

March 29, 2003 - Coalition forces meet resistance / War may last longer than expected (YA THINK?!)
March 30, 2003 - New peril: suicide attack

Wow. Coming up on five years now.

2008-01-18T16:58:00.000-08:00

Oh, the writers strike has caused me and some coworkers to actually become reality television watchers. We are ashamed, we are horrified, we are watching America's Next Top Model. And we are having fun practicing our cat walks around the office. (With newspapers in the crapper, why not?) The walk, however, has degenerated into Monty Python and the Ministry of Silly Walks. Which is takes some creativity since a good chunk of us wear skirts and we cannot raise our legs too far. That becomes a different kind of reality television we'd mimic. And might get fired for.