Answers On Monday?

Answers On Monday?

My doctor seems a tad, let’s say, concerned about the fact that I haven’t progressed with treatment. When I went to see him today, I asked him for a referral to an MD to get pain meds because this kind of constant pain is kind of wearing on me. I’ve had some pretty horrible back pain off and on over the past ten years or so, but it’s always gotten better after a couple of days. This time, every time I think it’s better, all I have to do is walk down the stairs to realize, it’s not going away. Tonight, I did feel a little better than last night, so I’m happy about that and a bit hopeful. Anyway, the chiro had a referral, but the MD won’t be…
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Ow, Ouch, Yeow, Ugh

Ow, Ouch, Yeow, Ugh

So, I went to the doctor today. My left leg is still weak, painful and occasionally numbish. It’s so weird, and so utterly ever present. The treatment hurts, although I’m going back again tomorrow. Such great fun. If I don’t get better after two weeks, he wants to order an MRI. But the weird thing was, he said he wanted to see me again tomorrow or Friday, but if he didn’t see me tomorrow, he’d call. Plus, he gave me his business card and said that number would reach him at any time. He didn’t do that last year when I went to see him with my sciatica. What, a weakening leg isn’t normal? ;) Anyway, all was not lost - afterwards, Leigh-Ann & I went to Cost Plus and…
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I’m Pretty Sure Jesus Doesn’t Want To Run You Over

I’m Pretty Sure Jesus Doesn’t Want To Run You Over

Oh sure, I could be wrong about that Jesus fellow, but I’m pretty sure he’s just like that guy at our local Barnes & Noble. Wears tie-dye, drives a VW van and sells books for a living. Not so much into the running people over or even being like Superman and stopping people from being run over...clearly I need to break some news to the Weaver family on The Amazing Race. When your father/husband is killed by being hit by a race car, then your mother is run over by a buggy on a reality show...it’s time to stop talking to Jesus. The poor Black family. They seemed so nice. I wanted to steal the little boys. The sisters SCREAM TOO MUCH, but I like ‘em. I also like the…
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Heh. Told you I didn’t care.

Heh. Told you I didn’t care.

And I found out today, for certain, that I really don’t. Today, I was googling Agramon because it’s my father’s last name, and when Jason and I are divorced, that is what I’ll change my last name to. No more SpanishhyphenRussian last name like when I was growing up. Of course, I will remain a Young if J. is opposed to changing the last names of our daughters along with mine, because the three of us will have the same last name. But if he’s ok with it, we will be Agramon family instead of the Young family. Anyway, I was googling it to see if there was any sort of accent over any of the letters, just to be sure that my birth certificate was correct. I kept getting…
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Is it Over Yet?

Is it Over Yet?

Today was the first day of the semester. I usually enjoy the holiday break thoroughly, but this one was an exception. While I won't say I'm glad to be back to school, I am glad that the break is over. Why's that, you ask? Two mornings before Christmas one of my best friend's lost her mother in a devastating house fire. When they called me at 5 AM all I could say was, "Oh, no." I couldn't sleep for the next several hours, and I couldn't have felt any worse for my friend and her family. I was unable to attend the funeral because the lovely airline couldn't change my fare for any less than 150% of the original cost of my ticket. As you already know from a previous…
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My Decision, Dammit.

My Decision, Dammit.

How romantic would it be to call myself a writer? It seems so much more supple an answer than ‘a mom’ or ‘a student’ or ‘a freeloading wise ass’. ‘Oh, I’m a writer’, said nonchalantly even though my insides would be fluttering about wildly as the words left my lips. I’m a very pessimistic person, and I don’t think that my writing is that good. Sometimes, I write something that I’m proud of here on this blog, and someone says I’m a great writer in the comments and my heart swells, but then I read another blog, an entry that to me is not very good, and the people in the comments are fawning over how wonderful of a writer that person is and it knocks me back down into…
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Tempestuous Love.

Tempestuous Love.

I rip out my heart and hand it to him. It’s pulsating and blanketed in pus, infected from all of the unhealed wounds inflicted upon it over the years. He stands with it cradled in his palms, cupping it tightly like de León would have water from The Fountain of Youth: determined not to let a drop spill. He watches it beat, brings it up to eye level and studies its languid rhythm, watching it steadily slow and become irregular. He smirks, turns his hands over and lets it fall to his feet where it lands with a resounding thud: the calcified torment in each vessel weighing it down. He lifts his foot and stares into my face, his naked heel hovering just over that crucial part of me. I…
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I’m Boycotting Blogging.

I’m Boycotting Blogging.

Not really. I’m just sick. Again. Some of you know that I’ve been pretty sick off and on for a few weeks now. No, it’s not serious. I’m slightly diabetic (hypoperglycemic) and I haven’t been taking care of myself or keeping tabs on my blood sugar levels. They are higher than they should be and have weakened my immune system quite a bit so I keep getting infections. I don’t feel like blogging. I don’t feel like reading. I don’t feel like doing anything but curling up into a little ball in bed and sleeping. I can’t do that though, because that type of luxury isn’t afforded to single mothers. Anyway, consider this an explanation for why I’m not posting or commenting for the next few days. I don’t feel…
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Hi. My name is Mark and I have a blog.

Hi. My name is Mark and I have a blog.

I've been blog post free for one year. I started blogging five years ago because it was what all the cool kids were doing. I'd dabbled in online journaling prior to blogging, but it wasn't anywhere as addictive. It's the comments, man. There's nothing like getting dozens of comments from people you don't even know that live all over the world. Kindred spirits, because most of them want you to come visit their corner of the internet and leave your mark on their blog too with another comment. Memes were never my thing, though I did a few. Recipes and the Recipe of the week, that was my signature thanks to my grandma's endless collection of old weird cookbooks. And then, I married another blogger and quit blogging. What can…
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Yes, I’ll be right with you

Yes, I’ll be right with you

Okay, I'm back. Thanks for waiting. I said we had a nice new view. Because everything on the internet is imaginary and fake I feel the need to prove our view. That's Mount Baker in the morning. It lives in Washington state and luckily we're far enough away to not be able to tell how American it is. It looks lovely, doesn't it? I took that picture one early morning so I wouldn't have to get up that early ever again. Sometimes things come across my lap, literally, that need to get onto the internet. Netbooks are the new Zubaz, so when I got to play with a brand new one I was intrigued. 1. Make a gun with your thumb and index finger. Prepare to be Tasered (Canada only).…
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