God Damnit

So I had my yearly boob squish and MRI this week. The gal at the mammogram place was quite thorough if a bit on the creepy side of cheerful (the kind where you know they're hiding a syringe of some knock-out drug in their pocket just waiting for you to poop on their cheery). And the radiology tech was suitably sadistic and smashed my boobies til she saw tears. And....they found nothing.

Next day I got to head downtown to the MRI tube where they fumble around with IVs and make me wait an hour for the pleasure of lying face down in a tube with my boobs hanging free, and being shot up with dye. The MRI technician who was there to help me be appropritely splayed out for maximum picture value had certainly soaked her hands in ice water for at least 10 minutes prior to stretching out my skin...nice. I hear they have warm water in the hand washing sinks.

Turns out the MRI found something in the left breast (last time it was the right) and now I get to have an ultraSound and biopsy. For all of this I get a $2500 bill and a free St. Luke's cloth shopping bag....really? 

Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I already have FIVE HUNDRED of your free bags and guess what? They don't really make me feel better when I'm facing CANCER. Jesus people....who came up with that idea....hmmm, well we're gonna make our paitients be poked, prodded, shoved, shot up, and mostly radioactive...but I bet a AWESOME NEW BAG will help ease their pain.

In their defense there's really nothing that will help, but if they're giving out free shit how about a set of scrubs...at least then I have something to wear to all those freakin' appointments!

The Lacuna | The Unknown Gap

I'm a reader. If I don't have at least one book in process and another in the wings I feel a bit of anxiety and have to break out the Ativan. I will read anything from children's books to spy novels. 

I've even gone so far as to attempt to read a Rosamund Pilcher novel (yawn) and the Twilight series...yes, I thought I'd better see what all the fuss was about and I'm still not sure. But having given Utah 7 good years of my life I could at least chuckle at all the subtext. Sort of like being Catholic and actually "getting" Chaucer (who is far more interesting than Stephanie Meyers). But I digress.

I'm currently reading The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver (top five favorite author) and I'm now obsessed with Frida Khalo. I find myself getting lost in the webernets as I read everything I can find. I've even added the movie Frida to my Netflix que.

The Lacuna is an intriguing novel of a boy's relationship with Frida written from the perspective of his diaries and is quite a thought provoking book. If you haven't read it then put it on your list. It's well worth your time. I'm putting it up there with Lets not go to the Dogs Tonight.

Perhaps I'm captured because I spent a summer in front of Diego's murals down in Mexico, and having grown up in a family of artists, Frida wasn't far from my childhood.

Either way I felt compelled to tell the world to read this book. So do it.

Book Review

Neighbors With Teenagers

Rule #42 is to always be nice to teenagers in the hopes that they won't select your house for mischief. If you live in my neighborhood you know just how crazy that mischief can be....stealing cars for joy rides, jumping off of roofs onto trampolines, torturing small animals, and basically just emo'ing all over.

For the most part I follow this rule religiously...teenagers scare me a bit...but recently this rule has become less abstract as my neighbor's kid has actually become a teenager. Applied rules are always challenging.

I seem to have drawn the short straw as I am now living next to the guy who I wish was my Dad when I was a teenager. Yes, the Dad who had absolutely no rules and was too busy dating his own teenagers to pay any attention to what his kid and kid's friends were up to. The Dad who said "yeah, yeah I'll be home "supervising" send your kid over."

Turns out the Teenagers (some barely 13) are alone in the house, and sneak out (sneaking being relative) in the middle of the night to congregate down in the marsh to shoot at each other with their annoying pellet guns. 

I've made an effort to politely ask that they refrain from shooting my dog and/or cats, but I cannot be sure they are not using other poor animals as target practice....they do seem particularly fond of shooting birds, squirrels, chickens, and the random poor whistle pig. I'm just happy they have terrible aim and seem to hit each other more than anything else...I've seen the wounds.

Get Over It

Seriously....get.the.fuck.over.it. I live in Hidden Springs, I do not have children and that is not cause for eyebrow raising, I do not live 3 feet from my neighbor, I am not an "idiot" for choosing the HS over a cramped North End bungalow, and we are not swingers....and if we were I don't think you'd be getting an invite. 

I love our house, I love our lot, I love our view, I love coming home, making a cocktail, and watching the hawks and eagles and blue herons hunt 10 feet off my back fence. I love that I can hear and often see the coyotes on the hill behind my house...and I love that I know on a full moon I will hear much more than just coyotes if I sit quietly on my back patio and listen.

I love that I can ride my bike to the end of the street and be on the Ridges to Rivers Trail System. I can also ride my bike to the Merc for a beer, or I can walk to the farm to pick up the eggs the crazy chickens lay every week. I can actually choose when I want to talk to my neighbors over the fence, as opposed to having their lives played out 4 feet from my dining room window like some disturbing picture show.

What is it about Hidden Springs that it can incite a seemingly normal (if a bit bitchy) woman to just go off about my choice of neighborhoods? Yes, it looks a bit like Mayberry but it's also only 11 years old and will probably look like the North End in ONE HUNDRED YEARS!  

But I will be gone by then and my immediate future doesn't include re-wiring my house, knocking out walls, stripping 40 layers of paint, replacing my plumbing, or digging out a basement so I can have more space. 

If this is what you love then YAY! Do it, live in the North End and love it, but don't think it gives you some sense of entitlement to judge people that don't want to pay 150$ a square foot for the privilege of being a slave to their house, and having their car broken into once a year on average.

And boo-hoo that I can't walk to Hyde Park, or ride my bike to Saturday Market, or stumble home after a night of revelry but I will thank you to keep your rude opinions to yourself (at least until I know you better), and stop assuming that any of those things are remotely important to me. It's not as if I need a special pass to enter the North End...they obviously let anyone live there.

St. Lucia

We spent a blissful (and very hot) week on the West Indies island of St. Lucia at the beginning of May. Below are a few pictures. It was an island unexpectedly rich in culture and sights to see. Unfortunately we did not have enough time to experience everything that is St. Lucia, but I have a feeling we will return to the island of light...perhaps a stopover on the way to Belize.....

We began with a short helicopter ride to the resort since we landed south and stayed north.

The view from our villa's patio...I was still trying to figure out the panoramic feature but you get the idea.

The beach, which was fabulously uncrowded and had cabana boys.

Sunsets were always a bit cloudy, but really....what sucks about that when there's a beach and a cocktail involved?

Rodney Bay, famous for helping a certain British Popwreck get sober. They named a bar after her - REHAB. This is the fruit boat that spends its days going up and down the east coast of the island selling fruit to swimmers.

 

We charted a catamaran one day and lived like rock stars snorkeling up and down the coast.

Bouncy Castles

Clearly I have limited experience with child ownership (oh, you don't own them?), but I have a lot of opinions...A.LOT.

Not very recently I attended a birthday party for a child a friend of mine owns (get over it). The party itself was quite nice...lots of booze, good food, adult conversation...I almost forgot I was at a kid's party. It was a couple of hours into the party before I realized I had seen no more than 3ish children...it took me awhile because it's my natural state to be surrounded solely by booze and adults.

I commented on this to the friend with which I was in conversation (and who had 2 kids at the party). Turns out there was a Bouncy Castle!!

Admittedly I am the first person in line to judge parents for spending more than 20 bucks on a 1 year old's birthday party (seriously people, they are not going to remember it...shove their face in a cake, take a few pictures to show them when they're 10, and you're covered).

But truly I must rescind all previous judgments on the toddler party circuit...I.LOVE.BOUNCY.CASTLES. They are crack for kids...$200 well spent. Kids are strangely compelled to spend all their time within the Bouncy Castle, only to come out for cake or frenzied gift opening, and then immediately return so the adults can continue boozing and telling themselves all's well with the world.

Perhaps that is not the same reason parents love them, but I will now go to any kid's birthday party where there is booze, food, and a bouncy castle.