Not the slightly musty, it's been raining long enough that we'll need an ark soon smell, but the WTF! It's been raining long enough to back up the sewer in the basement, let's add chemicals and use a long noisy snake to no avail smell. I have a "the sewer stinks, when is the plumber getting here" headache and am doing the "watusi dance". You know the dance? You hold your knees together, do the Michael Jackson crotch grab, and hop slightly all while thinking don't play gamelon music today because it'll make the need to pee worse. When is the PLUMBER coming????
It stinks so bad that my parents graciously said they wouldn't come tonight after all and to let them know how we're doing.
Oh... and a word of wisdom... don't take random quizzes on facebook if you don't know what the phrase means. Google it first or you might be saying in some unknown language- take this quiz and the sewer will back up in your house, spewing waste water on the floor, and making you regret cussing in Hokkien (which apparently not only has some mighty colorful and memorable phrases but which has a virus on its page when you research it).
Update: plumbing company 2 of the day is here... company #1 arrived 2.5 hours late and didn't have a long enough snake to go all the way to the street... home warranty company couldn't send another company out until tomorrow sometime so we called in the real guys... Roto Rooter who hopefully can fix this problem. Otherwise... I'm going to a hotel tonight! Still smells..... still have the headache... still doing the watusi dance... still haven't showered bc in spite of the offer for fluffy towels, I had to WAIT all day for the plumber who couldn't fix it!
I tend not to believe claims made by people who financially benefit from selling me a product. I'm sure that they are more interested in making the sale, keeping their job, and going to Paris on my money than they are in telling me the whole truth. Sometimes, they believe the hype personally and are so invested in their product that they say- "I wouldn't sell something I didn't use." And I believe them. I believe they earnestly believe their product is the best product this side of Jupiter and can heal the scratched mosquito bites on my arms without even touching them.
I've spent the last couple of days researching dietary supplements- pure, natural, and organic- that claim all kinds of things- except the ability to make the dead walk again. Somewhere under the mumbo-jumbo is the truth, but finding it is difficult since everyone for it is making money off it and everyone against it is selling books about how awful the industry is. Everyone is making money- except the single mom on a limited income with two challenging autistic sons. I asked her today why she wasn't getting rich off this too.
But the reality is that it's a huge $19+ billion dollar a year industry; mostly unregulated, badly tested, and no one is doing the hard science to prove the claims. Does it really rid your body of toxins? Exactly what level of what toxins is bad for you? What kind of toxins are in the average healthy body? What are the side affects? Do they cause serious liver and kidney damage? Do they hid other symptoms until it is too late? Which claims are 100% fact and which ones did they add to sell the product? And this great-- some of them cause problems if you have to have surgery- yet it's not listed as an issue on the labels. (But what goes on the label isn't regulated- they have to send a mockup of the label to the FDA but they don't have to include all the ingredients or all the side effects on the label.) So if you're going in for plastic surgery, make sure you tell your doctor what you've been taking and you may have to wait up to six months for the chemicals to leave your body! SIX months!!! They can show up in your body stream for six months AFTER you quit taking them. And why do some of them work for some people and not for others? Plus... in spite of using terms like pure, organic, and natural, they are still mostly chemicals manufactured in a plant that isn't inspected by the FDA. (AND some of them include cow parts!!! Gross cow parts from old cows that might be sick).
I think I'd feel better about the whole thing if someone (lab, scientist, researcher) who wasn't selling supplements or getting paid by the supplement industry was running long term double blind tests on these things and if the FDA regulated them the way they regulate our drugs. It seems odd to me that the drug companies have to prove to the FDA that their drugs are safe while the FDA has to prove that the dietary supplements AREN'T safe.
I know many of you use a variety of these things for a variety of reasons, and you believe they work or you wouldn't spend money on them. You'd use that money and go to Paris without me. My question is... who sold you on the idea of using them and who is going to Paris instead of you?
I'd like real research: not testimonials, not promises made by people who make/sell them, not claims that the Federal Government is lying about this (because that is totally besides the point and a nonstarter), and not a discussion on the value of alternative medicine- or worse- a debate about western/eastern medicine (which is another total side issue I'm not interested in right now). But I can't find any real research either way and that is what bugs me the most about this. How can you make an informed decision if everyone is making money off it?
Between the mechanical noises of her machines and her own raspy moaning, ICU was not a quiet studying place. Nurses in and out, doctors and specialists dropping by, and the waiting for something to happen made every hour last twice as long. I left when they came in to take care of her- to give her a bit of privacy and dignity- and spent that brief break on the phone with her children and family members.
As I gave updates without answers, it felt helpless. I knew my father would never want to die like this. He's told me plenty of times- no extraordinary measures- and I've always said blithely that my brother would make those decisions. But my mother-in-law was too ill to sign the advance directives when she entered. She was enough crazy at the time that even if she had signed them, they would have been suspect. When she asked to see them Wednesday morning, I knew she was ready to disconnect everything, but there wasn't a set on file in the hospital. She swore she left a set there last time, but we had to wait for them for send someone to make a new set.
By the time she arrived, the Infectious Disease Specialist arrived with good news- it wasn't cancer but a serious infection of the liver that will take a long time to cure-- but it's fixable- she wasn't going to die.
We went ahead and filled out the Advance Directives- making the Infectious Disease Doctor worried that we misunderstood him. After we were finished, I walked the Chaplain out to ask if they went into effect immediately because according to her wishes, all the tubes that were keeping her alive would have go. "They only take effect if she's unconscious," I was told. "Because if she's not unconscious she can ask them to remove everything herself."
"Oh great," I thought. She'd already talked about giving up and letting go that morning and she was tired of the tubes. I stepped outside and called the brothers. I asked for her minister to come see her and I told everyone to bring a message of hope- to tell her the worst was over and that what she had was painful, but fixable. And then, I took a deep breath and reentered the room.
"I don't want to live like this," she moaned as soon as I returned. I understood that. I knew that she had no real reason to suffer on earth as well. It was a purely selfish reason that I wanted to keep her here. But if she told the doctors to take out the things keeping her alive, they'd have to listen to her.
"It's not cancer," I said. "You have a lot of things to do here. You have a great-grandbaby on the way that you need to hold. You have a job waiting for you. You aren't finished here and you can't go anywhere until you do something important. You are a strong woman. You can do this. You have to want to do the hard things right now. You can't give up."
Her son came and told her the same thing. For the next six hours, whenever she was awake, we told her to fight, to hang on, to have hope and deep inside me, I wondered if it was a betrayal of what she really wanted... but I didn't want to let go when there was a glimmer of hope.
Slowly, there were signs of improvement. 24-48 hours her ICU Dr. said and I counted down with her, reminding her that it'd only been 8 hours, 12 hours, 24 hours, 16 hours... and then... before the 48 hours ended- there was a lot of improvement. I could understand her when she talked. I no longer worried about her giving up and letting go. She was beginning to take charge of her own needs- at least verbally- and they promised to let her drink water. Since then, she's had bouts of depression and frustration, but she's getting stronger.
"Next time you let me go," she said fiercely after she started to improve and could speak again. "I don't want to do this again!"
"Next time," I said, "Your advance directives will be on file." But I'm not the one who will make the decision the next time. I wasn't the one who made it this time. I was just the one who kept her distracted long enough that she forgot to tell them to remove the tubes this time.
Out from the neverending gray skies pregnant with dark moody clouds danced a golden shimmer in the spring breeze. Molten chocolate, the warrior princess from another time and place, slowly, with measured steps, walked as if she was holding the world on her head like the turtle who carries it on its back, as if the most precious thing on earth was in her heart.
Catwalk poise, head held high, no fear of wind or the threatening rain, she owned the entire universe if only for a moment. Long silken gold fabric clung to her buttocks and softly caressed them briefly as if they were a lover's hand before fluttering away. Golden, sun golden, melted gold golden, the fabric carried a bit of hope on a black day. A step, a shimmer, a pose. Sunshine and warmth for an instant from a stranger content to dress in her party clothes.
The light changed and I pulled away, wondering briefly if she was a vision or reality. Checking my rear view mirror, she was still there, still glowing, still poised, still beautiful.
There is this guy who wrote a computer script that scoured Ebay for items selling less than a dollar without shipping and then he put $365 in his paypal account. For the next year, he received a package a day of random items. That seems like a lot of effort just to get a package in the mail, but it beats waiting for the mail man daily to "maybe" bring you something.
My new sneaks arrived- shiny white and full of bounce. My music--- hasn't. Of course, it's too early for the Vanness single (three more days until it's released and then at least a week before yesasia ships it out and then... it's anyone's guess how long before it finally arrives here- could be a week- could be a month... just never know. I'll find it online long before I have my own copy.)
In second grade, when we moved away from Mac and Grams, I think it broke Grams' heart even though she rarely showed her true emotions to anyone. She didn't have a lot of money and our birthday cards from her never had more than a dollar or two in them, but she was a creative person, determined to stay in touch with her grandchildren a thousand miles away. In the mail, when you least expected it, came a package with your name on it. She sent away for every cereal offer, every box top offer, every free with purchase offer that she thought we might enjoy and had them mailed to our house. It was very random- a toy car, a Campbell's kids spoon and fork set, a new coloring book. You never knew what the box held until you opened it. You'd get off the bus, race down the hill and run into the house, slamming the door behind you, and sitting on the kitchen counter in plain sight was THE BOX. We'd gather around as the lucky one opened it and we'd pass around the gift as if it was gold, all wishing deep in side that she'd sent it to you- even if it was something you didn't like.
My new sneaks sit on my desk half unwrapped, one tried on, waiting for the perfect opportunity to break them in. I wonder what my mail man thinks as he trudges up our street- the last street of his delivery- late in the day with another package for me. Most of them come with custom forms and funny fonts and don't fit in my mailbox. Some days, there's a whole stack if I've ordered books online as well as music.
I'll probably be sitting on the front porch this next month around 5:30 to watch for the mail man walking up the street. One of these days, he'll pull the package I'm waiting for out of his blue bag and hand it to me. "Seventeen cents due," he'll say and I'll run into the house to scour for the change. I don't know why the packages we receive here always owe a few cents more, but I never complain... even if the package isn't for me and only contains a computer cord or a technical book, because tomorrow- the next one might be just the one I'm waiting for!
Should I fill up today or wait until tomorrow? Is the price cheaper on the edge of town? Do I have enough gas to go until the price drops again? What trips do I have planned in the near future that will take a full tank? It's five cents more on Friday than Thursday. It's three cents less on Monday. We talk about it constantly. It's on the news.
The old folk say, "It used to be five cents a gallon when I was a boy." Yeah, and it was a quarter when my Uncle Vern pumped gas in a white uniform with a little hat perched on his head that threatened to fall off when he washed the windows.
But in reality... all this talk is about a dollar or two- maybe three. Seriously, it costs what it cost. I go where I need to go and life goes on. I'm happier when it's not over two dollars a gallon, but I don't drive less or buy less when it's higher. I'm not going to spend a small fortune for a more fuel efficient car when it would take me nearly ten years to have any savings from the cost. We don't drive big fuel hungry cars anyway, and we keep them well maintained. And they're paid for- no hefty car payments every month.
So we'll keep searching for the cheapest fuel to save a dollar or two and we'll keep talking about it, but we won't do much else...
pss... 5 more days until the release of Vanness' ELP in Japan... just thought you'd like to know!
today's clip... Vanness and the wonderful Kang-Ta from Korea doing the Korean version of 127 days...
took me forever to find one that let me embed it so even though I listen to the Chinese Version of this, this will have to do...
(Guess I could upload my copy but I hate to do that!)
With Kang-Ta doing his military service (isn't he almost done???), their collaborations are on hold...
which is a real shame... they are so good together...
Kang-Ta wrote this song based on his own feelings...
He says...
Kang-Ta: "I wrote the lyrics to 127 Days, and they depict my own life story. So it's not a simple mere song. Every words of the lyrics represent a part of my own life. This song is a mix of pop and R&B. The story is describing a pair of lovers who met 127 days after they've broken up. The mixed feelings that the man has at that time. Meeting 127 days after breaking up, both parties have different feelings, so this song expresses the man's feelings after the break up. I feel that in 127 Days, Vanness's performance is great. My role in it is a friend who's in love with his friend's girlfriend.The part we're filming right now is the scene where I'm thinking of Vanness's girlfriend. Missing a friend's girlfriend. Regretting not confessing true feelings. This is a very lonely scene. Very lonely. Absolutely lonely. Extremely super lonely. " Kang-Ta is perfect at expressing that emotion...
Still one of my favorites by the pair, and the MV is your heartbreaking Korean type MV....
127 Days... with English Subs
"Damn baby, how'd we end up here...."
sigh!
... gotta remember that feeling... that's the right emotion........
Since my paycheck was here and finally in the bank, I bought a new DVD shelf and assembled it this am. With all my recent new movies and dramas, things were stacked kind of in order on top of the other two, but it was driving me insane, and I couldn't think. It felt good to finally have everything where it belonged and all the F4 stuff has its own top shelf.
Everything is organized by nationality and in alphabetic order. One case for anime, one for the Japanese, American, and children's stuff, and one more for F4, Chinese, Thai, and Korean stuff. I would rather do it by main actors but I had too many overlapping places to put a thing. All my music is where it belongs as well and I have room for more...
The Love of my life told me last night that I DO NOT have to own everything that I might want to watch someday. "But," I protested, "I want to watch St. Elmo's Fire now and we don't have that!"
"Netflicks, Online..." he said, "If you buy everything you MIGHT want to watch, I'll need to build you an extension to the house!"
"That'd be cool- my own theater space!"
"When you sell that best-seller," he promised.
"What if we buy one of those old, little run-down theaters and renovate it? How perfect would that be?" He laughed so I guess I can keep buying DVDs.
Funny, but I can finally settle down and get to work writing. Here are a few pictures of my work space because someone asked to see them...
Look!!! My Kenshin guys are back in my world and out of the box- a bit worse from the experience, but still intact!
Life is good~! And it's better when it's organized and not cluttered... because my brain is cluttered enough with the writing stuff to have to focus on the external world....
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