Snaps

I haven't updated the photos in a long time. There are now new pics on the flickr. If you haven't viewed before or can't seem to see anything when you click, just ask me [click on "view my complete profile" for email addy]. There's no test required to gain entry. .. unless you want one.

Here's a taste:

Other things:

I'm healing well, I think. I kind of don't want to go back to work tomorrow and am hoping there's a snow day or there's something to let me stay in my little bubble. I went for a nice, slow, long walk today in the foot+ snow. It was really wet out and the snow was still falling. I like walking with a destination so I decided to go scam quarters from the laundromat nearby. I took the messy way home through the park and went back out again with my camera. It was so quiet. Not because there was no traffic or cars, but because the cars were silenced in the slush and people stayed inside. I realized that this was the last February 25th I'd have in Madison and that made me kind of sad. A little lonely on the inside with visibility like the Arctic Pole and only slowly-filling prints in the snow to remind me that I'm not alone.

I wish I had a boyfriend:
**to tell my silly jokes to [a blizzard outside last night, I would have liked to call him up and say, "Can you drive over and take me to the grocery store? I'm out of juice." Then, I would have said I was totally kidding. Because it really was a blizzard outside.]
**to crack my upper back - I just can't seem to do it on my own.

School is plugging along. I'm happy that crazy cat lady Econ prof is so flaky. It helps relieve me from studying so hard for her class while I'm constantly trying to keep up with Stats. My next Stats exam is a week from tomorrow. Probabilities are not as easy to understand - especially when I don't have good, everyday or professional examples. I don't play poker. I am not a geneticist wondering what the probability of 4 girl babies from 10 couples.

The acceptance letters from schools have slowed as I won't hear anything until March - which, I know, is around the corner. I am requesting an expedited renewal of my passport though. Why not wait? Well, there's this possibility [which is not a probability] that I'll go to Mexico in May with the new guy [who needs a name]. He's got a gifted-over time share and a ton of frequent flier miles, and for the most part so far we get along really well. Minus a very important factor which I've only shared with James - and so shall it remain until I'm ready to talk.

I'm totally riddled with senioritis at work. I really could care less about things and feel like my performance and dedication is slowing to about 80% right now. Then again, I guess it's only due. After all, I have like 115.32 vacation hours and 161.86 sick hours left to use - which only means I've fucking worked my ass off for years.... Jeezus. I just tallied that and divided by 8. I better get to work on taking time off!!!

So, I totally omitted any info on my last weekend before the surgery. It was like "The Last Supper for Lola's Snatch." I was truly horrible. I don't even know if I want to confess out loud. If James and I were still going out, he'd totally guess what I mean when I say "I was bad." And, he'd secretly get a stiffy thinking about how naughty and slutty I can be. And, he'd love me for who I am. There are those of you out there reading who I'm not so sure you'd be so happy for me and my conquests and accomplishments. I do remind myself often to not remind myself of the readers. This is my space and my place to write. [I think you're right, Clichemonster. I do tend toward some kind of confessional self-observance of my writing right before I launch forward with whatever truth I'm going to tell. God, even this sidenote is a reflection on that confessional self-observance. Make myself sick.]

Anyway. I filled Lola's lil' holes with my darling dates. If you're smart, you'll note that Flickr adds dates to the photos. Andy in the Friday afternoon, [new guy] in the evening, and SirMax on the Saturday. Okay, so that's not so bad, is it? Shuddup. Yes, yes, yes, it's true, I could actually understand how Anna Nicole's custody conundrum would come about. [I couldn't pee to save my life at the hospital for the pre-surgery pregnancy test. I was asked if there was any way I might be pregnant. I said no. I mean, there's always a way a chick could be pregnant. Shit, the Immaculate Conception says so. Then again, I wasn't about to say, "Well, maybe, but trust me. If I am, there is no way I'll be having it so a little anesthesia won't kill anyone."]

Yes, I had a wonderful last hurrah before I had to calm down, starve myself silly, poop everything out of my body, and go through the craziness that was the hospital. I have to say that I was remarkably calm throughout the whole process. I think the most I freaked out was when I wasn't allowed to eat after 12noon on the day before the surgery. By about 10pm I was soooo hungry and so sick of berry-flavored clear water. And, I only shed one tear in the out-patient cubicle I was assigned to - when my nurse [her name was Festival] asked if I was experiencing any anxiety about the surgery. "No, no anxiety but I'm a bit nervous." One little tear of pride mixed with bravery and a bit of fear.

I stopped taking the meds yesterday. They gave me a dehydrated hang-over drowsiness and I wasn't digging sleeping for 14 hours straight. My body was starting to ache and the bed was starting to sag and I was wondering if I was going to start growing bed sores. So, if anyone wants some A-grade codeine something something rather - I've got like 12 of 'em left.

Well, I've got to go finish up the laundry before the Oscars. Not that I'll be watching, I've got homework to finish, but it'll be a nice break to see all the pretty people in gowns try to hold their tongue about the war or poverty or Darfur or God Bless or Anna N.S.