12/07/2006

A Quick Pup-Date

Last week, the very nice compounding pharmacy with whom I envision us developing a long-term relationship delivered to our door a little bottle of magic. I call it magic because after just two little drops Meg has been back to herself. Less drinking, less peeing, and much less human frustration. I'm thinking the diabetes insipidus diagnosis was right on (and it kind of makes me laugh, because that was the first thing our vet said in August when the problem first started. It was only when it reemerged that she thought Cushing's might be a factor. All we can guess with the intermittancy of the problem at the start is that it was the very beginning of the failure and her body tried to stave it off, but ultimately could not.)

The eye drops themselves don't seem to be an issue, which is amazing with little Meggie. Normally if you call her and ask her to sit, unless you've also rustled the treat bag, she will run and cower in a corner, coming out only with much coaxing and "good girl"ing. But with the eye drops, we just tell her that it's time for her eye drop and she pretty much comes into the kitchen, sits patiently. She doesn't crane her head away or shake or quiver, it's like she knows that this is good for her - and who knows, maybe she does.

What thrills me to the tips of my toes is that she seems to be drinking less (much less - much more along the lines of what a puppy her weight should be drinking) and the peeing in the house? That's stopped too! (Goes along with the whole drinking less thing, I imagine, but it's just wonderful.) And Meg is thrilled too, you can tell. We've always had a little game when we get home of "seeing if you were good" where we go look around at the house to make sure there were no accidents. Usually you can tell if there's a problem because they just won't go into the basement but will instead stand at the top of the stairs and flatten their little ears and hang their little heads. But now, you say "Should we see if you were good" and they both tear downstairs and stand at the bottom of the steps doing their patented swirls of joy. Which is, of course, followed by much adoration and loving on of the puppies.

We're just grateful that we got a diagnosis so quickly and that it appears to be right and that the pup herself is doing well.

12/06/2006

Please Blogger, Don't Taunt 'Em

Dear Blogger,

For several months now you have been touting the new and improved excellentness of Blogger Beta. You've indicated that select special people were even now switching and testing it out and that soon - soon! - the average Jane blogger would be able to experience the greatness for herself.

I have waited patiently. Carefully reading over all the new features and drooling, just a little, every time I get to labels. Labels! I can't tell you how many times the lack of labels has almost pushed me over the edge to finding a new home for this little blog. Each time I reel myself back because, well, I love my blog address. And people know where to find me. And change...change is hard. (And possibly damaging to your health, the scientists are still researching that one, but seriously, I am totally in favor of the "better safe than sorry" idea when it comes to my health.) But still...Labels! I have already mentally created a list of categories I would use - and they're clever. I'm telling you, they make me chuckle.

The other day I logged in and Lo! And! Behold! I could switch! There was my invitation. Finally, I could be part of the in crowd and label posts to my little heart's content. I studiously backed up my blog (because, well, let's be honest here, Blogger. You're not known for how well you treat people's stuff sometimes and I just didn't want huge boxes getting damaged or lost in the move) and then went through your little dance to switch to the New! and Improved! Blogger Beta. When it was all said and done, you stuck out your tongue (and really, dude, you need to work on the saliva issue you've got going on), put your fingers in your ears and splattered the largest raspberry yet known to man while imparting the detail that I couldn't switch. It took me a few minutes, but I believe you invited me...and then basically shut the door in my face when I showed up. (And really, how do you know I didn't bring brownies with me? Cause I make a mean brownie. But you may never know that.)

When I pounded on the door and demanded an explanation, brandishing my invitation at the peephole, you simply shouted through the door that I was too big. Too big!? Despondent at the image of my oh-so-clever filing system slipping through my fingers yet again after I had been thisclose, your mom ran after me and let me know that you were working on ways to handle larger blogs but that with almost 700 posts, well, what was I expecting? But really, that doesn't help all that much, cause those labels? I really want them.

So after that experience I thought we had agreed that you would wait to invite me again until you could, you know, handle the density of my content. And yet, what should appear when next I logged in? That's right, another invite. Ever hopeful, I showed up again only to be turned away at the door.

Well that's not happening a third time, buddy. I saw your invitation again today and I'm not buying. I know you're just fooling around, sitting behind your front door and laughing as the big blogs waddle up with their invitations, all excited about the prospect of labels and such, while you let all the little skinny blogs in with no question. Well, all I have to say to you is that you're missing out. Cause this big blog? Yeah it has a lot to offer. There's more of it to love, dang it.

Sincerely,
A big blog that wants labels, dang it!

12/05/2006

Chocolate

So I was sitting here (at work) (where I have nothing to do) (you know, business as usual) working on this huge and amazingly (seriously, I was pretty amazed) angsty post about how I don't know what I want for Christmas and how that has become this incredible metaphor for my career when the phone rang.

It was Tim. Who stayed home today to do homework because he's been putting in what the New Englanders among us would term "wicked long hours" of late. (Somewhere someone decided that what Tim really needed right now was an obsessively stressed/frustrated/on-the-edge-of-losing-it wife combined with finals at school and final testing for his project at work. He's a saint, I tell you. A saint.) Back to the phone, the call made me chuckle and is yet another of the multitudinous reasons I adore him. And rather than my angst, I will share this little snapshot of silliness:

Me: SleepyBeth at work, can I help you?
Tim: How's it going?
Me: I hate it here, I'm bored and I want to go home. So, you know, the usual. How's the homework?
Tim: Eh. I'm listening to Christmas music while I study.
Me: I want chocolate.
Tim: I have chocolate.
Me: That doesn't help me, does it?
Tim: Here, I'll eat a piece for you. (insert rustling of cellophane and then, slightly garbled) Mm, it's that dark chocolate from the Melting Pot.
Me: Still not seeing how this helps me.
Tim: Oh, ok, well let me eat another piece and see if that makes it better.
Me: ...
Tim: Would you rather I ate a Christmas Tree Peeps for you?

He's a giver, that one.

12/04/2006

Maybe Not Such A Great Idea, After All

Ever since the debacle with Spirit, I have switched to JetBlue for my little jaunts to school and, well, any other little jaunts I might take where JetBlue flies. Cause, wow, JetBlue is a great airline. One of the things that I enjoy the most is the TV.

Now, I know some of you are rolling your eyes at this, and that's fine. I was a scoffer like you until I experienced it for myself. But here's the thing, the older I get, the more prone to motion sickness I seem to be getting as well. It's been a gradual thing, but it started that I couldn't read when we were taxiing. Then I couldn't read while we took off. Then I couldn't read if it was minorly bumpy. Then if it got stuffy. Then if people were walking in the aisle. And so on, and so forth, until the reality became that I just couldn't read on a plane without an unstoppable urge to be sick. Which, in the overall scheme of things is not so conducive to reading. Or flying. Or really doing anything other than moaning quietly and wishing you were dead.

So for me, JetBlue has been wonderful. Because I seem to be ok with watching TV while in motion. And I have enjoyed my little jaunts with the ability to watch things that I might not otherwise waste my time watching (e.g. Miami Ink - a show about a tattoo parlor. Bizzarely fascinating in it's own weird way. But I'll never watch it at home.)

But last night on my flight home I realized why TV may not be the best thing on an airplane. I was sitting there, watching my Law and Order reruns when the guy in the aisle started gesticulating madly. Then he started shaking the chair and pounding the arm rest. His flailing arms caught one flight attendant as she passed (no spills, though, so that's good.) And then, when it seemed like it couldn't get much worse, he let out a string of harsh language (not foul, just harsh) and whacked the chair in front of him (in which his TV resided) causing the guy in front of him to be understandably upset. When explanations were given, it turns out that his football team was not doing so well and he forgot that he was, you know, in a public location that was in fact not a sports bar.

It was a fun flight home.

12/01/2006

New Blogroll - Blogging Chicks!

Now for your surfing pleasure, I bring you the Blogging Chicks, of which I am a new member cause, well, I'm a chick and I blog. Seemed like a pretty good fit, all things considered.

There are some gems in there, so poke around, find new things to read - leave comments! And check back here for the occasional participation in their various carnivals.

Desert Island Memequel

Eric posted this sequel to the Desert Island Meme (sequel to meme - memequel, he's clever that Eric), using TV Series Box Sets instead of movies. And, as I'm currently procrastinating for a few moments on getting to work writing a paper, here are my picks.

Oh -- Rules are that we have to stick with the genres...*sigh*

  • Western - Firefly (hey, it's a Space Western)
  • Horror - Dr. Who (Yes, yes, not technically horror, but they almost always get too creepy at certain points for me to actually stay in the room, so for me? They're horror. I still, however, love the show.)
  • Sci-Fi - Farscape (What a great show.)
  • Musical - Top of the Pops (It's on BBC America and it's as close as I can get to something that I would be remotely interested in having with me.)
  • Comedy - Fawlty Towers (I agree with Eric's assessment of this as consistently hysterical.)
  • Police/Crime/Courtroom Drama - Law & Order: Criminal Intent (Of the ones I watch and love, this is, I think, the most consistently re-watchable.)
  • Medical Drama - M.A.S.H. (I don't care for ER, never have. Haven't ever seen Gray's Anatomy, and am so fed up with House this season I'm leaving it off out of spite. Plus M.A.S.H. is imminently re-watchable. Close second would be China Beach.)
  • Foreign - Are You Being Served? (Yet another BritCom that is consistently hysterical...Mr. Humphries, are you free?)
  • Variety - Hee-Haw (Sad, but this is the only variety show I can think of. And I think that may be grounds for retrospective charges of child abuse to be leveled at my parents.)
  • Mini-Series - Pride & Prejudice (the A&E one with Colin Firth)
  • Bonus Pick (any genre) - StarGate SG-1 (again, imminently rewatchable.)

Now you!

Murphy's Law of Traveling

If you leave early for the airport anticipating long security lines and huge problems associated with quart sized ziplocks and all that, you will arrive at the airport with just over two hours until your flight and wait behind exactly two people, leaving you with lots of time to sit and contemplate your navel.

Have a good weekend!

11/29/2006

"For now they kill me with a living death."

A few weekends ago I set up a lunch date with a friend of mine with whom I am in very rare contact. (If you're questioning the "friend" descriptor coupled with "very rare contact", you're in good company. I questioned it as soon as I wrote it. But there's this whole long, garbledy explanation that I was going to spare you, but, well, if you're going to bring it up...First, there's the whole "she's not so much my friend as she is my mom's friend, but she's really not my mom's friend, per se, so much as she is someone who would like my mom to be her mom/mentor/term for an older woman who is friendly with a younger one but not in a "hey let's go to the mall and hang out" way but more in a "can I come to you and discuss the deeper intracacies of my life and you can help advise me" way. Though I guess that last one is more like a mentor. Anyway, my mom introduced us and, after the initial irritation that here was yet another person trying to horn in on the whole mother-daughter bond thing with my mom (what can I say? My mom's great - everyone wants my mom to be their mom.) I realized that we had some things in common. Though really not enough that we would ever have become friends on our own I don't think because, well, she intimidates the poo out of me. But she's really nice and we go beyond "acquaintances" so that leaves me with...friend? But the intimidation thing? That really means that I find reasons why we can't get together much more often than we do.)

So...she had emailed me a few months back because one of her munchkins was selling popcorn for the Boy Scouts and was I at all interested? I had e-mailed back that yes, I was interested, but that I wanted to wait and see if any of our local munchkins came a-calling because usually there are two or three who swing by all dressed up in their little Boy Scout uniforms and they're too irresistable and I have to get some from them. I never could resist a man in uniform.

But the allotted time passed and she wrote back to see if I was yet in need (though does one really ever need popcorn? It's not like it's the same thing as oxygen. Or chocolate.) And as no little local munchkins had made it our way, I placed an order. And when it came in, she emailed me to see when she could drop it by and, long story short (well, shorter at least) we agreed to meet in the middle to transfer goods from her car as well and hey, why didn't we have lunch and catch up at the same time?

So that Saturday, I got up early (with an alarm and everything) and grumbled my way in and out of the shower and down to our agreed upon halfway point, marginally pleased that I was only running about five minutes late. Just as I was pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant we'd chosen, my cell rang and, lo and behold, it was her. And she had gotten locked in a daydream while driving and just realized that she had not only passed our meeting point, but was an exit past my house but she was turning around and would be there in twentyish minutes. With nothing to do but laugh it off, I did so and looked around, my eyes happily lighting on a Borders.

Bookstores make everything better.

Without further ado, I ambled into the Borders and breathed in the smell of coffee and pastry and books and I could just feel the Christmas spirit oozing into me. My eyes roamed the big tables of new releases and old releases now on sale and what should I see but a book that I'd been looking for for what seems like ages, now out in paperback (at last!) I scooped it up and glanced at the other offerings and there my eyes caught on the title "Shakespeare: The Biography" and then in littler print "By the bestselling author of London: The Biography."

At this point it is probably necessary to interject that since high school I have been what can really only be termed a Shakespeare geek. I have been known to actually sit down with a complete works to read a few plays just for the fun of it. Not because it's required for a class. Not because I'm going to see a production. But because Shakespeare is beautiful. The language! The wit! It is without question one of the most pleasing things to read ever written.

My brain did some rapid gymnastics that looked something like this: "Oooh! Shakespeare. Oh. Biography. But...hmmm...London: The Biography? You can't write a biography of a city, so it's probably fictionalized, maybe like Ireland. And gosh that was fantastic. Imagine that same kind of technique applied to Shakespeare! Must. Have. It."

And thus it came to be that Shakespeare: The Biography ended up in my hands. At which point I promptly forgot it as the rest of the bag was full of Christmas presents, so it got tucked away with all the other presents. Until I pulled them all out and wrapped them Sunday afternoon. Then, with renewed glee, I perused my amazing Shakespearean find. Only to discover, it's not fiction. It's really a biography.

I loathe biography.

My last foray into biography took me three years to finally give up. And that was on the well-known, much heralded biography of John Adams by David McCollough. I cried so much trying to slog through that tome - not because Adams' life was sad, but because I wanted to read about him. I felt like I should read about him. I earnestly desired to be able to enjoy that book. But I just could not get through more than 100 pages. 2 pages at a painstaking time. With weeks in between where the book would sit, untouched, on my nightstand. Mocking me.

Yet I have finished the two other new books that I alotted myself until the new year. I've re-read everything I'm in the mood to re-read. And so I find myself stuck. It's biography or nothing until January, and I'm off on a plane tomorrow. So I will tote my albatross along and hope for the best, but if you don't see me again, look for my dessicated carcass laid out on the dunes of the Sahara known as "Biography".

Pup-Date

Monday morning we took Meg back to the specialist to have a water deprivation test done. In this test, they withhold water until the puppy has lost 10% of their weight (due to dehydration.) Then, once they reach their target weight, they take a urine sample and run a specific gravity to see if the kidneys have concentrated or not. (Because when you're dehydrated, your kidneys should be working overtime to concentrate your urine and save every last precious drop of water they can. If they don't when you're dehydrated it's because they can't.)

The good news is that Meg's kidneys didn't concentrate even at that level, so we're all pretty convinced it's diabetes insipidus and once he (he being the amazing internal medicine doctor for dogs) figures out the right dosage we will begin medicating little Meg and and see if that solves the issue. I'm just glad it's not psychological and that it's relatively easy to treat. (If you consider administering eye drops to a skittery dog "relatively easy". I'm not sure that I do, but in the overall scheme of things it's better than it could be. So we'll give it a go.)

I'm guessing Meg will come to hate me soon. Maybe I can make Tim do the medicating.

11/28/2006

Dog's Rules for Christmas

Got these from Lynellen - not sure where she found them.

  1. Be especially patient with your humans during this time. They may appear to be more stressed-out than usual and they will appreciate long comforting dog cuddles.
  2. They may come home with large bags of things they call gifts. Do not assume that all the gifts are yours.
  3. Be tolerant if your humans put decorations on you. They seem to get some special kind of pleasure out of seeing how you look with fake antlers.
  4. They may bring a large tree into the house and set it up in a prominent place and cover it with lights and decorations. Bizarre as this may seem to you, it is an important ritual for your humans, so there are some things you need to know:
    a) Don’t use the tree as you would a fire hydrant
    b) Don’t drink water in the container that holds the tree
    c) Mind your tail when you are near the tree
    d) If there are packages under the tree, even ones that smell interesting or that have your name on them, don't rip them open
    e) Don’t chew on the cord that runs from the funny-looking hole in the wall to the tree
  5. Your humans may occasionally invite lots of strangers to come visit during this season. These parties can be lots of fun, but they also call for some discretion on your part. Not all strangers appreciate kisses. Don't eat off the buffet table. Beg for goodies subtly. Be pleasant, even if unknowing strangers sit on your spot on the sofa; they don't know any better. Don't drink out of glasses that are left within your reach unless you can get away with it.
  6. Likewise, your humans may take you visiting. Here your manners will also be important. Observe all the rules in item 4 for trees that may be in other people's houses (4a is particularly important). Respect the territory of other animals that may live in the house. Be nice to the kiddies. Turn on your charm big time.
  7. A big man with a white beard and a very loud laugh may emerge from your fireplace in the middle of the night. Do not bite him!

Memes, Glorious Memes

Susie tagged me with this meme and, well, it seemed like a good start to the morning. So, here we go...

A - Available/Single? Neither, very happily married
B - Best Friend? Tim!
C- Cake or Pie? Cake. Definitely cake.
D - Drink Of Choice? Sadly it's probably water. But I do also enjoy my coffee and one Diet Pepsi a day.
E - Essential Item You Use Everyday? Lotion. I have very dry skin.
F - Favorite Color? You know, my answer to this really always depends on "for what?" My favorite color to wear is black - it's very flattering on me. In certain situations I love purple and green (not mixed together, mind you, as separate entities). Blue is always a winnner as well. But I'm coming to enjoy some of the deeper browns lately, too. So, um. Can I just say I don't have one and be done?
G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? Worms.
H - Hometown? Woodbridge, VA
I - Indulgence? Boooooooooks! (Yeah, I stole that one from Susie, but she put it just exactly right!)
J - January Or February? February. First, I love saying Feb-ROOO-ary. It's just fun. Second, it does have my birthday in it. Thirdly, it's unique amongst months and that is always a good thing (to be unique among your kind.)
K - Kids & Their Names? Human kids or dog kids? Dog kids are Cassi & Meg. Human kids are not currently available for comment, however, I have named all my imaginary children. But as I may some day be blessed enough to use those names, you'll just have to wait. It's good for you. Or at least that's what people are always telling me.
L - Life Is Incomplete Without? Pets.
M - Marriage Date? August 12, 1995.
N- Number Of Siblings? 1 sister.
O - Oranges Or Apples? Ummmm....depends. If they're the really huge naval oranges with the thick skin that after you peel are still the size of a softball, than oranges. If they're the oranges you can find up here (which are basically just juice oranges as far as I can tell) then I guess apples.
P - Phobias/Fears? Snakes
Q - Favorite Quote? Sadly, I'm really not a quote person. I will see them and think "Aha! What a wonderful quote." and then it'll be gone before I can find a useful place to use it. Happily, my mom sends me tons of quotes in her family letter, so I always have a new batch to appreciate.
R - Reason to Smile. I know that my Redeemer lives.
S - Season? Fall. Or Winter. I'm happy with either.
T - Tag Three People? Lynellen, Gwynne and Beth
U - Unknown Fact About Me? Gosh, I just used my good ones. Um...I type about 70 wpm.
V - Vegetable you don't like? Lettuce
W - Worst Habit? Sadly I think I'm coming to realize I'm a bit of a whiner.
X - X-rays You've Had? Collar bone (twice), ankle, fingers, jaw and teeth
Y - Your Favorite Food? Cheese. I could live solely on cheese, I think.
Z - Zodiac Sign? Pisces

11/27/2006

Four days of thankfulness

I love four day weekends. Love them. I wish there was a way to just have a life that consisted of one four day weekend after another. Though I think that might be called unemployment. I hear the pay for that isn't great.

The feeling of freedom when I got home on Wednesday was indescribable. It just bubbled up with giddiness akin to the last day of school, sometime in my elementary years. I didn't even mind the drive home, which, thanks to some foresight on Tim's part allowing us to leave at 2, really wasn't awful. I think it only took about ten minutes longer than average. For this area on a holiday in the rain that's just simply unheard of. It started off the weekend on just the right note.

Wednesday evening I decided to try and get some things made for the meal that either would really benefit from chilling overnight or that would at least not be damaged by chilling overnight. So I made the cranberry salad (yum!) and the gingerbread-pumpkin trifle (eh - too much gingerbread. If you like gingerbread, you would probably enjoy this, but I'm not a huge gingerbread person to start out with) and the cornbread for the dressing and then I prepped the greenbeans so I just had to toss them in a pot when it was time. That took probably three hours, all told, but it helped so much on Thursday.

Thanksgiving morning, mom, dad, sis and her hubs showed up at 8:30 for waffles. Somewhere along the line we developed a tradition of early morning waffles and vanilla sauce on every holiday. (They've always been a family tradition, but not one necessarily tied to a holiday.) I only made one batch of waffles so as not to start the day completely stuffed to the gunnels. That seemed to be just right and we had neither waffle nor sauce left over. Once breakfast cleanup was finished, it was time to pop the rib roast in the oven and put the chicken on to boil.

The chicken recipe had me curious. It was meant to be a roasted chicken, but you boiled it for 2 hours first. So I did as instructed and then set the pieces on top of the dressing mixture (it was pieces because it fell apart when I tried to pull it out of the pot - definitely tender) and then baked the conglomeration for 45 minutes. Wow that chicken was tasty. The baking helped crisp up the skin and take the stewed texture out of the meat, but it was still amazingly tender and juicy. And the dressing was the best I'd ever made, I think. (Even my brother-in-law, who is normally a StoveTop or nothing kind of guy really liked it.)

All in all, thanks to the prep on Wednesday night and my sister's help on Thursday, it was one of the least hectic Thanksgiving meal preparations ever. And that is a good thing.

Tim's family showed up just as we were dishing things into serving dishes. My sister's friend never did show up or call - so we're hoping she found a better offer for her Thanksgiving meal. Tim's mom wasn't well, so they left shortly after the meal - before dessert. No one actually felt like dessert until supper time, so we had dessert with a little graze of left overs as desired for supper. Very laid back. The boys spent the afternoon killing things in the basement (computer games) and the girls read and half-watched the marathon of The Closer. (Amusingly I actually enjoyed the show - I had watched an episode or two when it first started and wrinkled my nose. Now I may have to give it another chance as it's actually kind of interesting. As I'm about ready to give up on House and The Amazing Race, I may have some room in my TV schedule, so I'll have to see what happens. I know it's an off-season show.)

Friday morning we put up our new Christmas tree. It's fake - but it looks better than the real one we bought last year. I'm very pleased. Plus, it's pre-lit and while in future years we may string some more lights on it, for this year I think it's really quite well decorated and I will toss my White House ornaments up and maybe some colored balls and call it done. I want a more tidy look this year - the last few years have been so jumbled and hodgepodge that I'm hankering for order. We had planned to try to get the outside lights up, but, well, homework was calling and we figured it was better to work first and play later.

As it turned out, this was definitely the right order for Tim as he spent the next two days at work putting out fires, coming home at 1am on Saturday and 3am on Sunday. Nice restful vacation for him, I know.

Friday was also the day for measuring how much water our little camel-dog has been sucking down. Turns out this number is somewhere right around 11 cups a day. Saturday, as I labored along with my paper (finally knocking out a draft, though there appear to be some significant holes in it that I need to fix) I also had to monitor the water situation. Sunday after church I intended to get working on my next paper, but ultimately decided that I didn't have the energy, so I read two books and watched TV instead.

In all a good weekend, though I'm already ready for another just like it.

11/22/2006

Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

More than likely I won't be back til Monday - not going anywhere, but lots of things to do on this long weekend (decorating for Christmas, a cooking festival that will begin this evening, papers to write, more papers to write, and, did I mention I had papers to write?)

Our menu, for those who might be curious will be as follows:

Your choice of:
Prime Rib
Roasted Chicken
Honey-Glazed Ham

Accompanied by:
Mashed Potatoes with Giblet Gravy
Cornbread Dressing
Wilted Southern-Style Green Beans
Cranberry Jelly Ring
Cider Pumpkin Bread with Cranberries and Walnuts*

For Dessert:
Gingerbread Pumpkin Trifle
Pumpkin Flan with Pumpkin Seed Praline*

*Courtesy of my sister

11/21/2006

It's Raining Shoes

On Friday we took Meg to the Veterinary Internist for an abdominal ultrasound and a second evaluation for Cushing's. The internist was a very nice man with an excellent bedside manner. I've not seen Meg as un-terrified in the presence of a stranger as she was with both the doctor and the vet tech. This qualifies as perhaps the only part of the morning that went well. The doctor took a look at Meg's chart, asked us some questions, furrowed his brow and then promptly decided that our vet is not qualified to diagnose Cushing's. While yes, one of the classic tests did indicate the potential for Cushing's, it really only seems to actually indicate that Meg's cortisol is slightly high and there are a number of reasons that might be happening. Like stress. Or a psychological condition.

So they ran the ultrasound and looked at her kidneys and adrenal glands and determined that, in fact, there were no tumors on the adrenal glands. This test does not, of course, show that she doesn't have Cushing's. It just shows that she doesn't have adrenal Cushing's. She still might have pituitary Cushing's. Well, and it did show that she doesn't have tumors. So that's good at least.

At the end of the day, they decided to run another test that would either positively diagnose that it wasn't Cushing's or indicate that it might be Cushing's but also that it might be one of any of the other varied things that can cause high cortisol. (You know, like a psychological condition.) Then they sent us on our way with instructions to call back for results on Monday.

In many ways, I had been hoping to pin this down as Cushing's and while, sure, it meant we would be forking out roughly the cost of five new pure-bred Shetland Sheepdog puppies a year for medication, it would at least help Meg feel better and, perhaps more important than any of that, stop my house smelling of dog pee. I find myself ill-equipped to consider that this may be caused by a psychological condition. Especially since, if that's the case, my dog's pyschological condition is going to send me to the nuthouse. I don't know if that's irony, but I'm sure Alanis Morissette would think it is.

Yesterday was Monday and I dutifully called the Internist's office to get the results. The receiptionist looked them up and saw that the results were in and then indicated that after the doctor looked them over they'd call us back, sometime after six that evening. I recited the long list of numbers where I could be reached at any given time between about 11 am and 8 pm, you know, to make sure I didn't miss the call.

As I waited, rather anxiously, for the vet to call me with the results of this latest blood test, I attempted to go about my day. It was a fairly typical day for me, filled with people trying to use software that I wrote that works perfectly fine on our test system, that other people here in the office have verified as working perfectly fine of the test system, but that due to some imp of the perverse will not work at all on the production system. The production system that's out on the west coast. That is not connected by any kind of network where I could get on and see it not working. The calls between me and my counterpart tend to work like this:

Him: Your code doesn't work.
Me: It works fine here. Walk me through the steps you're taking.
Him: I do A, then B, then C, just like in your instructions. I get Q.
Me: But you should be getting D.
Him: I get Q. Maybe your instructions are wrong, too.
Me: No, the instructions are fine. It works here.
Him: It doesn't work here.
Me: ...

Usually we try to hang up before it disintegrates into more of an "Is not." "Is too" conversation. Usually. Of course, it doesn't help that, thanks to procrastination and inefficiency on his end it's taken him three months to get around to installing this software to test for production. Consequently we're behind schedule and people are getting irritated. So we're trying to get a test system that's an exact mirror of the production system (there are a few differences that should be minor, but apparently they're not) so that maybe I can see why they're having the issues they're having. Except of course that I'm a programmer and the errors he keeps getting? They're all network related.

Then I had the oh-so-fun "let's just see how everyone is doing" conference call with the manager at my company. The same manager who, last week, had the HR chick call me up to let me know they were doing away with my current title of X+2 and so now my title would be X. Just X. Upon asking how this wasn't a demotion with no cause I got essentially silence and then, "Well, we're just doing away with that title. It's just a restructuring." Ok. Fine. Whatever. It feels like a demotion, but if they're really just getting rid of the title, so be it. So during the conference call, they announced that they hired someone. His position? You guessed it, X+2.

And oh yeah, the vet never called back.

This morning as I'm dialing into another call, the second line rings. It's the vet's receptionist. The other test they ran is perfectly normal. This almost 100% rules out Cushing's and leaves us with Diabetes Insipidus or a Psychological Condition. One is easily treatable. The other, not so much (unless you have the number of a good pet therapist.) And so we've scheduled a water deprivation test for Monday. In the meantime we need one day where we can get a fairly exact measurement of how much she's drinking during the day so that for the first of the two days prior the test we restrict her to that amount less 10% and the second day is that amount less 20%. Which should be fun with two dogs in the house. I think we may send Cassi off to grandma or auntie's house to make our lives a little easier.

Except, did I mention that Cassi has started having intestinal issues in the last two days? So when you bring her back in from a "private moment in the back yard", you then have to gingerly pick her up and plop her in the tub for an undercarriage wash. And the smell. Oh, the smell. It's the only one yet that cuts through the otherwise prevailing scent of pee. (Tim says I've developed a psychological condition about the smell and that it's not noticeable, but I'm not convinced.)

On top of all of this, we have Thanksgiving. The couch has arrived and is lovely and squishy and everything a couch should be. The meal is planned - and I don't even have to go to the grocery store on Wednesday night like I have the last two years. My house smells of dog pee. And we're having a random stranger attend as well, in addition to the Hatfield and McCoy families*. Everyone all together now, "It was a horse!" "It was a mule!"

Just to top it all off, my right earring piercing is infected and it itches and hurts and I can't put in earrings cause it's oozing. I'm sure it's also very attractive.

So yeah, it's raining shoes...hallelejuah?

*The meal is actually what I'm worried least about and is put here only for comedic impact. My sister asked her chiropractor what she was doing for Thanksgiving. Said chiropractor then burst into tears and a long, truly heartrending story issued forth. Sister invited her to our house and I heartily endorse this action. This woman needs to not be alone this holiday and I'm happy to invite her to our circus. Which is not as likely to end in bloodshed as the whole Hatfield/McCoy thing. As my mother put it, "It's not like you don't have enough rooms in your house for us to all go somewhere else." Though I guess that means I need to clean up more than I was planning. However - none of my family reading this is allowed to get miffed or annoyed or in any other way huffy or offended or say they're not coming or I will personally hunt you down and rub dog pee all over you so that you have to live with the constant smell that I'm living with.

11/20/2006

Presidential Currency

In what I can only assume is an effort to keep up with the Joneses on an international level, the US Mint has decided to put out new $1 coins. These coins, like the state quarters, will be the US Presidents in the order they served. There seems to be a disagreement amongst the various articles I've seen as to whether living Presidents will be featured (currently currency can only honor the dead.)

It's a fascinating idea and maybe this'll go over better than the Sacagawea coin did. (I enjoyed the Sacagawea dollar, myself. Right up until I tried to use one and was informed that it wasn't legal tender. I do wonder if the average American is smart enough to handle a coin based currency system.) Certainly collectors (myself included) will want to gather up one of each and push them into some cheap cardboard collectible holder for posterity. (Apparently this is one of the hopes of the US Mint as they make money everytime we pull something out of circulation. The state quarters have been particularly successful at generating cash for the Mint.)

In addition to helping generate revenue, the Mint suggests that they'll also be useful for teaching kids history. I suspect they're right. Who wouldn't learn the names of the Presidents if you got a dollar for each one you remembered? Other fanciful suggestions include turning the Presidential Dollars into a historian's version of baseball cards. I'll trade you a Taft for a Hoover. And then there are projections of how much money vending machine owners could save if they didn't have to provide (maintain and service) dollar bill slots. Nor should we forget how much easier this'll make paying a parking meter. These last two, however, presuppose that vending machines and meters will be upgraded to handle a dollar coin, a not insignificant undertaking, I would imagine.

That all aside, I do wonder if Americans are going to be able to see these coins as anything but collectibles. Americans who have travelled in a country that switched to the Eruo have probably experienced the bizarre realization that the handful of coins in your pocket is worth more than you'd usually tote around in your billfold. The idea that coins are "worth something" and not simply the change you get back when you break a worthwhile amount of money is a rather large cultural shift. While the $1 coin isn't a revolution in currency, I think that the government would love for it to start one. If they could just get dollar coins to catch on, then maybe they could try $5 and $10 coins and possibly even start phasing out bills, which would save them money in the long run. (Coins last longer and thus over the long run cost less to produce than paper money.)

While my first response was that another bout with the dollar coin was an ignorant idea, I'm starting to warm up to it. It'll be interesting to see if they take off at all. If nothing else, we'll be running out of quarters soon, so it'll be good to have something else to collect.

11/17/2006

5 Things You Don't Know About Me

Michelle has tagged me for this, and it seems like a good way to wind up the Friday Frivolity. So, without further ado, 5 things:

  1. In Jr High/High School, I qualified as a Junior Olympics sharpshooter in both riflery and archery.
  2. I wanted to be a vetrinarian for the longest time, until I realized that I wouldn't be able to handle being around sick animals, it makes me too sad. Well that and I really didn't like biology.
  3. I've been to Space Academy.
  4. I saw Lance Guest in a play as a kid and got his autograph on my copy of The Last Starfighter. He seemed embarassed to be remembered for that role, but he was very nice and chatted with us for a while after the show. (All the actors came out into the audience and shook hands, etc. It was cool.)
  5. I've had the rules explained a zillion times, but I still don't understand how football is played (other than the 6 points for a touchdown plus 1 for a field goal - I get that much.)

Why does this make me feel like I need to get a life? (Quiz Time part 3)

Props, again, to Jen.

Your Movie Buff Quotient: 72%

You are a total movie buff. Classics, blockbusters, indie favorites... you've seen most of them.
Your friends know to come to you whenever they need a few good DVD rental suggestions.

Another unsurprising result (Quiz Time Part 2)

More props to Jen (linked this time).

You Are 69% Perfectionist

You are a true perfectionist. You are both demanding of yourself and others.
While it's great to have goals and standards, they don't need to be sky high!

Friday Quiz Time (Part 1)

Props to Jen for the fun Friday quiz.

Your Vocabulary Score: A

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary!
You must be quite an erudite person.


Totally unsurprising...I love language.

11/16/2006

Animals are better than you

Tim showed me this today - quite funny, though it does have some language, so use discretion where you're listening.

Desert Island Movie List

Ok, so all the cool kids are listing their Desert Island Movie picks. As I have long wanted to be one of the cool kids, I submit the following (rules are simple, one for each genre).

  • Western - Tombstone
  • Horror - Bubba Hotep (I know this technically probably doesn't count as horror but it's classic and has to be on the list somewhere.)
  • Sci-Fi - Aliens
  • Musical - White Christmas
  • Comedy - Big Trouble
  • War - The Lord of the Rings Trillogy (well, they are fighting a war...)
  • Action - Serenity
  • Foreign - Babbette's Feast
  • Classic (pre 1960) - Pillow to Post (again hard to choose)
  • Documentary - Rattle & Hum (drawing a blank here on any others that I've actually seen. Kinda sad.)
  • Bonus Pick (any genre) - Sabrina (Harrison Ford remake)
I don't know that I'd be happy with all my choices for a huge long time - cause I had a lot of ties that I had to flip coins on. Still, all things considered, it's a reasonable list.

Thursday Theological Thinking

Thanksgiving has been on my mind a lot this year. I imagine it's because of my musings on where we were going to seat our enormous crowd this year and whether everyone in the Sleepy clan would get along with the Pre-Sleepy clan. And the other myriad details that go into planning a meal that will, hopefully, appeal to everyone - even the picky ones among us.

Now that the majority of the details have been settled, I still find my mind circling around to Thanksgiving. Except now it's Thanksgiving in general, the action of giving thanks, that has become a preoccupation.

This new preoccupation started the day after the elections, when my heart was heavy and anything but thankful. Into my mind swarmed 1 Timothy 2:1 - 6 "I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone - for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. For there is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all men - the testimony given in its proper time."

I had to go and look it up to be sure I was remembering it correctly; I was sure that God wasn't telling me to be thankful for Jim Webb or Nancy Pelosi or, good grief, Hillary Clinton? And yet it's there, in black and white, we're to pray for everyone in authority and not just requests and intercession, but also prayer of thanksgiving with the ultimate goal being that each of our leaders come to know the Truth. Now, when it seems that so few of our leaders on either side of the aisle put Truth, the Truth of God's Word and the unchangeable tenants held therein, at the front of their jobs, praying for those leaders to know God and know the truth is more important than ever.

Contemplating this, I tried to think of how I could phrase a thankful prayer regarding our current government, knowing that so many of them advocate legalizing (or maintaining the legal status of) sin. Knowing that they feel man's law trumps God's law in every situation, and would classify God's law as a work of fiction, given the opportunity. Most of my efforts ended up backhanded non-thanksgiving prayers that on the surface sounded good, but with minimal scruitny crumbled.

This took me back in mind to family Thanksgiving meals. Almost every year at some point in the meal, mom would make us go around the table and say five things for which we were thankful. My sister and I would roll our eyes and try to be the first one so that we could list each family member and "dibs" those - because generally you weren't allowed to repeat what someone else had already mentioned. I expect the utterances that we managed did not seem like thankfulness to my parents.

I arrived at the conclusion that forced thankfulness is always going to be insincere. While you may be able to cajole someone into the utterance of thankful words, you can't force a thankful spirit. Yet it is an attitude of Thankfulness that permeates Paul's writings and the Psalms. Thankfulness that very often came in the midst or on the heels of adversity.

This is a fairly incomplete thought, because I'm not sure how you cultivate a spirit that is thankful, no matter what. But I suspect it comes from practice.

11/15/2006

Would you ever

clip your fingernails in a random stranger's car?

Neither would I.

The backseat slug did not seem to suffer from this inhibition.

Because Procrastination is an Art Form

I believe I've mentioned before the unfortunate personality trait I possess that has plagued me for the bulk of my life that makes it impossible for me to, hm, how to put this, slack off. Examples of this sad, sad state are legion, however the one that stands out most firmly as an example of the extremity of the problem comes from my sophomore year of college, fall semester. (One could argue that the fact that I remember the details to this level is an example in and of itself, but I'll leave that for you to consider.)

As part of my lit minor, I took a course on the works of Samuel Johnson (and other authors of the era, though it was primarily Johnson.) Aside from being simply fascinating and immensely enjoyable (I'd've been a lit major if I thought there was anything practical I could do with it), we had to do an indepth research paper with all the requisite compares and contrasts. It was due at the end of the semester, but the professor was happy to review our papers and make suggestions or comments for revision up until the due date to help us produce the best possible product. I turned mine in just before our mid-term break. In what I considered a final draft. The professor agreed.

Anecdotal evidence would suggest that this personality trait is, in fact, inherited. Daddy will often regale us with tales of his own college experiences that entailed going to the library the night before something was due and enquiring if any of the many there, all crammed around the single copy of the required resource, wanted to go grab some pizza and a movie. Apparently there were never any takers. He never mentions how many wedgies he received, however I suspect the number was well over ten.

One might think that learning to overcome the perpetual need to be ahead would be fairly easy. Unfortunately for my little OCD soul, stress is the enemy. When I get stressed - seriously stressed - I shut down. Thus the inner nerdiness that got me through college, and so much of the rest of life, is really a defense mechanism designed to keep me operating with some level of functionality instead of sitting on the couch with my nose buried in my preferred escape vehicle - some variety of fiction. The more mindless the better when I'm well and truly stressed.

This semester is proving to be a constant struggle for me. I feel perpetually behind because there really aren't clear or well defined expectations (and nothing is worse to a goody-two-shoes than not knowing if you're performing at the expected level). This in turn causes stress, which begins the whole inner struggle between "Shoot, I'm behind already, I can't do this so why bother trying" with "Well, if you're behind then you just need to work harder and get back on track and ahead." And while those two duke it out in my brain, the rest of me is left looking for a good book to read and some form of chocolate.

Earlier this week I came very close to my breaking point. So, in the fashion of any good nerd, I made lists. Lists of what was stressing me out. Lists of what needed to be done. Lists of what on the needed to be done list that really didn't need to be done. Lists of what didn't need to be done but that if they got done I knew I'd feel better. Lists and lists and lists.

I love lists*.

So, in the spirit of compromise, the two voices in my head decided that since their battle over school work was, in effect, a draw, the decision was made to put productive energy into something other than school. And so, I'm happy to report that I still have a paper due December 4th that I really haven't started, a design document due the 14th of December that, yes, is essentially in the "Yes, I know I have to do that at some point" stage, a review of literature due December 15th that is simply in the "Is it really due in December?" stage, and I haven't really posted anything, I was going to say significant but I think we can just stop at anything, to the discussion forums in several weeks.

But I'm finished with my Christmas shopping.

*(Appropos of nothing, this planner feeds my need for lists so amazingly well. It just makes me happy. If you're a list person and you're not in love with your planner, I highly recommend this one.)

11/14/2006

I wonder what I missed

Props again to Jen, who must be having a slow day at work today. (Yes, one could rightfully suppose that I too am having a slow day at work today. But that's a given, isn't it?)

You paid attention during 91% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
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Well, This'll Make Tim Laugh

Props to Jen for the, um, too close to the truth quiz.

What Kind of Reader Are You?
Your Result: Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm

You're probably in the final stages of a Ph.D. or otherwise finding a way to make your living out of reading. You are one of the literati. Other people's grammatical mistakes make you insane.

Dedicated Reader
Literate Good Citizen
Book Snob
Non-Reader
Fad Reader
What Kind of Reader Are You?
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Accent? What accent?

Seen all around, finally gave in after seeing it at Gwynne's.

What American accent do you have?
Your Result: The West

Your accent is the lowest common denominator of American speech. Unless you're a SoCal surfer, no one thinks you have an accent. And really, you may not even be from the West at all, you could easily be from Florida or one of those big Southern cities like Dallas or Atlanta.

The Midland
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have?
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11/13/2006

Like it or not, I'm a morning person

When the alarm went off at 5:3o this morning and I continued to just lay there, Tim asked if I wanted to sleep in. Since I'm still fighting this cold, I mumbled something that was in the affirmative sounding segment of the "I'm still asleep, please don't make me wake up" vocabulary and the alarm was therefore reset. (I've determined it's officially just a cold based on the fact that the other alternatives I was considering, specifically Spotted Owl Disease and Ebola, would both have killed me by now and, as I'm not yet dead, I figure the cold is more likely.) This was repeated again at 6:30 and thus, when I finally awoke enough to drag myself out of bed, it was just coming up on 8:00.

This put us at work right around 9:30, which means we can't go home until 6.

As we drove in, Tim and I discussed the relative merits of switching to this schedule for the next little while because it would alleviate the need for me to slug home in the afternoons, since Tim is feeling the need to be in his lab later into the day until they finish up with their next deadline. I dont' mind slugging home most days. (Other than the fact that there are some really bad drivers who think it's ok to pick up random strangers and then subject them to their bad driving in person.) The thing that I come close to "minding" is that it takes longer to get home, what with the metro ride to the slug line and then the inevitable wait for a car going to where I left my car, it adds about 45 minutes to the process. And it's wasted time because I get carsick, seriously carsick, if I try to read in a moving anything (metro, car, whatever. Just not a good combo.) But it's still a free ride home, and you've got to give that consideration.

So I was all set to switch to this schedule for a bit. Right up until about 4:10. When I realized that I really wanted to go home at the same time I realized I still had about 2 hours of work that needed to be done. And then I started doing mental calculations of what time that was going to put us home, then add in dinner, and what time that meant I would be able to start on some homework...Yeah, it's just not going to work.

I guess what it boils down to is that I'm much more productive between 7 and 4ish than I am between 9:30 and 6. So as much as I may hate that 5:30 alarm, all things considered, it's the better option.

11/10/2006

The Effective Improvement of Morale: A Case Study

The ethnographic study detailed below on improving workplace morale was funded by the American Society of Social Health And Toiler Synergy. Initial indications show statistically significant results.

Introduction

Research shows that camaraderie, specifically working relationships and a sense of belonging to a team is very important to employees and their overall job satisfaction. Therefore, the primary motivation of ASSHATS is to discover and report on ways to help employers foster and improve camraderie and, therefore, morale. Scrooge (1843) was one of the seminal researchers in morale improvement, though later in his studies he was found to have lost a significant portion of his mental clarity and thus his later findings are questionable. All reports previous to any mention of supernatural visitation, however, are well founded studies that can and should serve as a starting point for beginning morale-improvement researchers. Edward Teach (1713) is thought to be an even earlier researcher than Scrooge, though most of his work is undocumented and available only through hearsay. It is presumed, however, that Teach is responsible for one of the initial underlying principles of Scrooge regarding continuous flogging until desired results are achieved.

Relying on the fundamentals of Scrooge (1843), ASSHATS is conducting an on-going study of morale at a company located in the suburbs of a large city. The employees of this company have been kept unaware of the study, lest the results be compromised. The Instructional Review Board for Human Subject Study has approved the methodology of this study and waived the need for informed consent.

Methodology

The primary motivational methodology currently under review involves a cyclical process defined by the following steps:
1. After business hours, hold a mandatory all-hands meeting.
2. Immediately follwing this mandatory meeting, hold an "optional" event where the corporation will sponsor alcoholic beverages and minimal food.
3. Within the next week, two to four attendees at the previous two events should be informed that their behavior at the event was unacceptable and that there is significant question as to their willingness to be a "team player".
4. Within the next four to six weeks at least one employee's position should be redacted and the employee informed that they are no longer needed.
5. Staff reorganization should only be communicated to the rest of the company if unavoidable.
6. Allow another four to six weeks to pass with complete silence from the management, then begin the process again, starting at step 1.

The steps in the process are explained further in the following section. Each step has been researched for optimal morale improvement effectiveness with constant reference to the prior works of Scrooge (1843) and Teach (1713) as well as the lesser works of Hitler (1942) and Mussolini (1925).

Step 1: The mandatory after hours meeting.

This must be done after-hours to preserve the billing rates of all employees. It also serves an additional purpose of lessening the possibility that morale improvement will come from outside sources like family and friends, which would confuse and perhaps invalidate any study results. While this meeting can be used to hand out performance awards, serious consideration should be given prior to approval of any award system as it has been shown that significant decreases in morale of non-awarded employees can result from any form of recognition given to others. In the interest of fairness, this author recommends against taking any award actions if at all possible (Scrooge, 1843).

Step 2: The "Optional" Event

When publicizing this event, it should be made exceedingly clear that attendance is optional. However, care should be taken to ensure that the employees understand that those who are considered "team players" and anyone with any sort of future in the company will be there. This will in turn motivate all employees to attend, resulting in the maximum morale improvement. As with step 1, this event also serves the purpose of removing any contaminating morale factors, such as family or friends, which provides for a more pure study.

Additionally, the sponsorship of alcohol and minimal food enables employees to become intoxicated at a much faster rate. Fastidious employees who refuse libation on the pretense that they came alone and must drive home should be noted and marked as non-team-players, since they are, in essence, refusing the company's largesse and potentially lessening the morale improvement of those employees who have chosen to drink without considering the consequences. It should be noted that intoxicated employees are more easily influenced, thus after the second or third round, several members of the upper management should present rallying speeches. This will maximize the moral boost for the event (Hitler, 1942; Mussolini, 1925).

Step 3: Initial Chastisement

The employees needed for this step will be readily apparent during steps 1 and 2. It is simply incumbent on management to be aware and take note. If possible, the verbal notification of their lack of "team-playerness" should be passed along second or third hand. Management should do everything possible to avoid one-on-one contact with these troublemakers, lest their ability to improve morale suffer by association. However, as it is critical that the information be passed along to these employees, one manager or HR representative may need to take on the burden personally if it is determined that the gossip mill is not churning efficiently.

Step 4: Corporate Reorganization

In an effort to maintain morale, these positional removals should be done with as much haste as possible. The morale of the ex-employee is no longer a concern, so managers should not hesitate to frisk, strip-search or otherwise demean the departing person. If at all possible, while the employee is being notified of their fate, a manager or HR representative should be boxing all personal effects and setting said boxes in the hallway. Thus, at the end of the termination conversation, the employee need only be escorted out the door without any time consuming stops in their former office. Swift kicks to the rear are advised only when circumstances warrant.

The lack of dignity afforded to exiting employees should be maximized at all costs. Word of this treatment will quickly spread to the remaining workers and their efficiency and morale will skyrocket as they realize the depths of management effectiveness.

Step 5: Communication

The key to morale is in communication. It is crucial that "offical" communication be limited as much as possible. Instead, management should foster the growth of an efficient gossip mill. In addition to saving time that would otherwise be wasted crafting official memos and other notices, the gossip mill encourages employees to interact with one another. This, in turn, helps them to become friends who might then enjoy spending time together, making coming to and staying at work a desired activity and reducing the need for any extracurricular activity or socialization. Additionally, the new interactions foster interdependence and employees will seek one another out during the day to see if there is any more information to be had. Management should, however, keep an eye out for any employees who threaten the efficient working of the gossip mill by refusing to participate. Scruples of this manner should be swiftly dealt with.

Step 6: Repetition

Repetition of these steps will result in a hyper-alert workforce. Employees will rely on one another not just for work-related tasks, but also for information and socialization, which represents the pinnacle of successful morale.

Conclusion:

The on-going study is implementing the steps described above and seeing incredible results. Morale is employee self-reported at an all-time high and teamwork and employe-to-employee communication is thriving. Further results will be published after the culmination of the study.

References:

Hitler, A. (1942).

Mussolini, B. (1925).

Scrooge, E. & Dickens, C. (1843). A Christmas Carol. Chapman and Hall: London, U.K.

Teach, E. (1713). A biography. Retrieved November 10, 2006, from http://www.ah.dcr.state.nc.us/sections/maritime/Blackbeard/default.htm

11/09/2006

More Tales from the Idiot Aisle

A while ago, I mentioned the fact (or at least, I meant to mention the fact) that my company issued a new leave policy mandating that vacation could only be taken in 4 hour increments, that you could roll over up to 1 week of accrued vacation at the start of each year but you had to use it before the end of the 1st quarter or you'd lose it, and that sick leave was now ineligible to be rolled over.

So, reading that, I determined that I would, by golly, use up my sick leave. I earn it, piddly though it is, so if they're not going to let me save it up, then I will be "sick" as often as I feel like it.

In keeping with my newly formed policy, I took Columbus Day off to do homework and hang out with Tim (whose company gave him the day off). This whittled me down to around 6 hours of sick leave on my last paystub. I was pretty pleased and figured that'd be easy to polish off somewhere right around Christmas.

And all was well until yesterday. Yesterday, the tickle started. You know the one in the back of your throat (the throat which, incidentally, feels like it's packed with cotton balls)? Shortly after the tickle came the throbbing ear. And the pounding head. And the funky, wiggling walls. And the flashes of chills followed by unbearable heat.

That's right, I'm sick. And at work.

Cause, you see? I only have 6 hours of sick leave, so I need to wait til it's so bad that I really need to stay home.

What's that thing about "The best laid plans?"

11/08/2006

Who knew they had veterinary internists?

I've alluded to the fact that Megabyte (Meg) has been having some issues lately. Unfortunately, this is not the first time we've gone round and round with Meg and issues. This specific issue, excessive thirst (and I mean excessive - as in drinking a gallon of water in a 10 hour time period. To put it in perspective, an average dog drinks 1 Cup of water for every 10 pounds. Meg weighs 16 pounds, so 1.5 Cups a day is all she should need) and the excessive peeing that comes as part of drinking that much water, is one that we've dealt with, off and on, for three ish years. (By off and on I simply mean that she'll go for a week or so having accidents every day and we'll notice the drinking problem, and then we'll get her in at the vet and she'll stop and life will be normal again for a while.)

In early September when we had her in for this (just before it stopped) the tests they ran didn't show any immediate problems except that her kidneys weren't concentrating the urine like they should. Based on that and the only symptom she has (drinking and peeing) they had all but diagnosed diabetes insipidus and when it stopped, they supposed that it was brought on by the trauma of having company for so long, a reasonable thought since Meg has always been a nervous little puppy.

So, when it started back up last week, we gave it two days (just to make sure it wasn't a fluke since we also got home a little later than usual the first day) and then called the vet. Monday we took her in for a day of testing - chest x-rays and a Low Dose Dexamethasone Suppression test, since the test to positively confirm the diabetes insipidus is very dangerous and they wanted to rule out other things, like Cushings, first.

She came back positive for Cushings. And here is where I am thankful for blogging and the blog-friends I've made. Cause the first thing I thought when I hung up with the vet was, "I'll email Eric and see if he has any pointers from the beginning of their journey with Abbye." And I got a wonderful note back that was quite encouraging and I appreciate it immensely.

So the next step is to take her to the Internist for an abdominal ultrasound so they can, hopefully, determine if the Cushings is pituitary (meaning that the pituitary gland is sending too much of the hormone that triggers cortisone production) or adrenal (meaning that the adrenal glands are not paying attention to the pituitary and just generating cortisone all the live long day, whether she needs it or not.) Both are caused by tumors on the gland, but the vet says to cross our fingers for pituitary as the adrenal tumors can often be malignant (though she did also say they're very often operable if that's the case.)

Putting aside any malignancies, however, Cushings appears to be very (and fairly easily) treatable, and that is a relief, because for now the dogs really are our children and to think of them being sick breaks my heart. (And yes, I know that the Dog Whisper is rolling his eyes and saying I'm part of the world's problems right now - though Tim is very much the pack leader in our family and I'm ok with that - it means I get all the cuddles). But the fact of the matter is that I pushed (and oh yes, I pushed and nagged and pleaded and down-right begged) Tim into getting the girls when the reality of our infertility first hit me. They have filled a very huge hole in my heart, and even in Tim's (though he never knew it was there until it was filled), and I'm not ready to think about losing either one of them.

11/07/2006

Because I'm Always Good for a Laugh

Yesterday we took Pokey out to lunch since today is his last day. Neither Dwight nor Pokey have a good feel for the neighborhood eateries around our new office yet, so the decision was given to me for where we should go. I listed two options in the same building about 3 blocks away and the decision was made to wander that direction and figure it out once we were closer.

So, off we trucked, over the ridiculous brick sidewalks that this area of town seems to think are such a great idea. (I hates them.) About half way there I could already tell that my pathetically worn out shoes plus a walk of this duration plus ankle-turning sidewalks were not going to end up being a good combination. When we got there, I felt as if the balls of my feet were ready to burst into flame (gotta love heels) and I looked forward to lingering over lunch a little to give my tootsies a break.

After lunch (which was quite tasty) we wandered back to the office, each step (and half-ankle-twist) another little agony added on to the previous ones.

On the way home, I regaled Tim with the above fascinating tale (you're riveted, admit it!) and bemoaned the fact that my new shoes didn't fit and I hadn't made the time to go exchange them on Saturday like originally planned. Tim made the patented husband "Mmm" noise that indicates an awareness that you've finally stopped talking about whatever it was you were talking about and that he has nothing to offer and really, was that the only interesting thing that happened to you today cause, wow, your life is pathetically boring.

Grumbling slightly, I declared, "I'm throwing these out even if it means I don't have any black shoes!" as I slipped off the foot torture chambers I'd been wearing. I glared at the shoebox containing my new, ill-fitting shoes that sat on the kitchen counter taunting me. And I don't know if it was desperation or temporary insanity, but I opened the box and slid them on again, just to be sure they really didn't fit. All the while Tim is eyeing me as if I've finally and utterly come off my rocker.

They fit like champs. Apparently my foot was swollen when I first tried them. Or something. All I know? I have new shoes and I don't have to go shopping.

Don't Forget to Vote!

I'll be back later with more, but for now - please remember to get out and vote today. It takes so little time to exercise your citizenship and, well, I missed National Cliche Day, but it's not just a right, it's a responsibility.

And if you do forget to vote? Please remember that you just forfeited your right to whine.

11/06/2006

Nothing in Particular

I have nothing in particular to share (I guess maybe I need to start a Random Monday thing around here, since this seems to be a recurring theme) - so a few scattered thoughts:

  • Brian Regan was hillarious on Friday. I was very happy we went and not disappointed at all. His opening act, who I really was going to try and remember the name of but, sadly, did not, was also quite funny. There were many sore sides from laughing - and that is definitely a good thing.
  • Traffic Friday afternoon was not hillarious. We seriously have too many people on our roads. Someone needs to invent the transporter. Immediately.
  • The sofa has been purchased. They wanted to deliver it Tuesday, I finegled Saturday. Now I kinda wish I had gone with Tuesday so I had an excuse to take a day off work. Sad. Very, very sad.
  • I purchased some fabric and Thanksgiving magazines, so more to come on baby item creation and meal planning when I have a chance to catch my breath.
  • Didn't get nearly enough homework done this weekend. Anyone else seeing this trend? Not good. Very, very not good.
  • Megabyte is at the vet all day today so they can try to determine if she has cushings, diabetes insipidus, or something else entirely. I'm just praying that it's something they can put a finger on and that it's treatable/manageable. I'm not ready to even consider her being terminally ill...she's only 8.
  • I got feedback on a paper this weekend. The grade was 19/20 and the feedback was all positive (as in - "This is really good." "Excellent point." ) So, um, where'd my point go? Seriously, if you're going to dock a point, tell me why. I'm ok with the grade, but I'd really like to know why it wasn't a full credit paper.
  • We also got our official application (as opposed to the preliminary application we already submitted) for Bethany - filled with fun and exciting questions. I'll share more of those as we go - for now I leave you with question #1: "Why do you want to adopt?" I'm guessing "Because we want kids." isn't the answer they're going for, but seriously...how else do you answer it?

11/03/2006

Friday Fiction Finale

Don't forget that Nuggets will be posting the finale to the Friday fiction soon (there's a note saying probably late tonight/early tomorrow - but I didn't want to forget to direct you that way to check up and get the sure-to-be-stunning conclusion!)

If you've not read the whole thing, you can find all the details on Chapters 1-4 here.

I know that I, for one, can't wait to see how it ends!

Looking forward to the weekend

I'm so glad it's Friday.

We have what looks like a full weekend ahead of us, and most of it looks like it'll be on the "fun" side of things...well, except for the requisite homework.

Tonight, 11 of us are off to see Brian Regan. I've never been to a live comedy show before, but having listened to his recordings, I am prepared for much frivolity and anticipate muscle aches tomorrow from laughing too hard. (Hopefully with such high expectations I won't be disappointed...always a concern, though I tend to agree with Anne that the soaring almost makes up for the thud.)

Tomorrow I told my mom that I'd come and help her tidy up a bit for some sort of church gathering she's hosting in the evening. Then on my way home I thought I'd try to hit a few of the shopping errands that have been stacking up. (For example, the other day it occurred to me that I could cease my complaining about how I needed new dress shoes by ordering online. I have ordered other clothing online with no issues, so why should shoes be any different? And it saves the sometimes torture (only sometimes, because on rare occasion I do enjoy a little shoe hunting expedition) or trying to make time to go look at and try on roughly 300 pairs of shoes before finding one that "will do." So, I looked, I ordered, they came. And they're very, very comfortable except for one minor little detail. They don't fit. Now why mail order shoe sizes don't align with regular store shoe sizes, I couldn't tell you - though it could just be my foot, seeing as how I wear from a 7.5 to 8.5 depending on what brand, but most of the time it's an 8. In fact I'd say 90% of my shoes are 8s. So I ordered 8s. I think I need an 8.5. So, reading over their return policy, they say you can exchange them in store. Saves me shipping, saves me having to go to the post office. I don't see a downside. Except, of course, that I now have to go to the mall and try on the roughly 300 pairs of shoes anyway. I don't think I'll be shoe shopping online again in the near future.) And I have yet to look at fabric for the other little project I've already discussed here.

Then, depending on how much of Saturday is gone, we'll need to head over to the furniture store to look at one more time and probably order the sofa we need for Thanksgiving dinner. And while I'm out that way I need to swing by the bookstore to look at Gourmet and others to see what they're recommending for dinner and decide if I can go with one of those menus or if I need to mix and match my own. (My sister has already voted for mix and match, taking the time to give me a list of all of her favorites. In fact, I asked her if we were convinced that we needed to have turkey. Her response, "Oh no, a standing rib roast would be fine too." Though in many ways that actually sounds preferable...I really don't like turkey.)

Sunday is church. I have a little internal bet going on as to whether the email bru-ha-ha currently taking place in our Sunday school email list will spill over into classtime even though the whole point of trying to deal with it in email was so that we could spend classtime doing nutty things like, oh, studying the Bible. The nice thing about internal bets is that no matter who wins, it's still you.

Somewhere in there I need to do homework. I'm feeling behind again (perhaps due to the two projects looming that I really haven't started) and that's just an unpleasant thing. I also need to spend some time in the online discussion, though I have nothing to say that will actually add to the discussion. Still, participation is graded, so I've got to make something up and get it out there - perhaps I can find a way to include the fact that it would be nice to know how she feels we're doing in our discussion participation since she's given us no feedback whatsoever up to this point and to say that's demotivating is a bit of an understatement.

Anyway, while most of that may not sound fun I'm looking forward to it. Primary reason? I won't be at work. And that, my friends, is an officially Martha Stewart approved "Good Thing".

11/02/2006

Queen for a Day: Revamping the Political Campaign Process

I mentioned yesterday that Election Day is coming (don't forget to vote on Tuesday!) and if your location is anything like mine, things are getting mucky. I come home every day to three or four pre-recorded messages on my machine touting this or that. On a good day, there are only one or two who take the opportunity to sling mud at their rival - it's not been a good day very many times. Then you've got the TV and radio ads, where candidates seem more interested in trashing their rival than in actually informing you what they stand for. Which leaves you with, essentially, the option of either voting for the one who does the least mud slinging or voting down a party line. It's more and more difficult to find out enough information about where a candidate stands if you look to the information coming from that candidate.

It's frankly quite annoying. And I wish I could say that one party was better about it than another, but really? They're the same. No one seems to be willing or able to just rise above it (though of course there is the thought process that if someone goes on a smear campaign you kind of have to respond or end up doing damage because people think you can't defend yourself. Catch-22, I do realize that.)

Anyway, were I Queen for a Day, here are the rules I would lay down for any political campaigning.

  1. Each candidate must put together a list of things they are for and things they are against. They can have as few or as many as they want - and even if they just go party line, they have to clearly state, in writing and on their website, "I approve of X" or "I disapprove of Y." If they want to use the political language, that's fine (in other words I fully understand that the left side will say "I support a woman's right to choose." and the right side will say "I believe that all life is precious." so that they can make it positive language. No worries. Most people are smart enough to read the correct meaning through those statements.)
  2. If a candidate has served previously, their past voting record must be included in layman's terms. This would take the form of "Bill such-and-such: My vote: " If they would like to include a justification, that's fine.
  3. For any known upcoming legislation that, if elected, this person will have a chance to influence, they need to do the same with an explanation of where they stand on it and why.
  4. No candidate is, under any circumstances, to say anything about any other candidate. Even if there's something juicy out there. Just be the bigger person and don't campaign on the fact that you think you're a better choice than so and so. Tell me why you're a good choice in general.
  5. TV and radio ads will be of the form, "Hi, my name is X and I'm running for Y. I believe in . You can find more information about me and what I stand for at . Please get out to vote on <>." That's it. None of these dark, secretive, expose-journalistic commercials that tell you nothing about the candidate sponsoring the ad and serve only to sling muck at someone else.
  6. The media can only report either the items in 1 and 2 or other unbiased information. (Information, not commentary.) And equal time would be enforced along with equal positive time vs. equal negative time.

I know it leaves a little out (and it's all massively unrealistic, but then, so is me being Queen for a Day) - but really, I just want information. I don't want to know why you think the other guys suck.

The thing is - and I think it's the thing that people really need to understand - is you have to have a defined world view in order to figure out how to vote in an informed way. If you don't know what you believe and why - if you have no world view - then all you have to fall back on is what the media feeds you. Whatever your political stance, I'd encourage you to figure out what you stand for and why you stand for it. Then vote for people who agree.

In the meantime, if you're looking for information to be an informed voter, these are three sources I recommend (coming from, as you might suspect, a Christian world view):

The Family Foundation (really most useful if you're in Virginia)

Family Research Council (they have scorecards for Congress that you can download for free to see how the people you elect really vote once they get to the job you gave them.)

Focus on the Family (especially their Citizen Link.)

11/01/2006

Election Day is Coming

Normally I don't foward emails like the following, nor would I consider posting them, but I found this one interesting. Can't say I found it funny as it's a little too close to true, though I will caveat and say that yes, I know there are some people who fall on hard times who have legitimately tried to make their lives better. Then again, I know other people who panhandle because they make more money at it than selling their paintings and they didn't want to get another job because, well, they're artists. (You know, with the French pronounciation.)

Anyway, more to come later in the form of "If Beth was in charge of the political campaigning process...", but for now, we have the fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper - in original and modern versions.

OLD VERSION: The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Be responsible

MODERN VERSION: The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving. CBS, NBC, ABC & CNN show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. America is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be, that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so? Kermit the Frog appears on Oprah with the grasshopper, and everybody cries when they sing, "It's Not That Easy Being Green." Jesse Jackson stages a demonstration in front of the ant's house where the news stations film the group singing, "We shall overcome." Jesse then has the group kneel down to pray to God for the grasshopper's sake.

Ted Kennedy and John Kerry exclaim in an interview with Dan Rather that the ant has gotten rich off the back of the grasshopper, and both call for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his "fair share." Finally, the EEOC drafts the "Economic Equity and Anti-Grasshopper Act," retroactive to the beginning of the summer. The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number of green bugs and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the government.

Hillary gets her old law firm to represent the grasshopper in a defamation suit against the ant, and the case is tried before a panel of federal judges that Bill appointed from a list of single-parent welfare recipients. The ant loses the case. The story ends as we see the grasshopper finishing up the last bits of the ant's food while the government house he is in, which just happens to be the ant's old house, crumbles around him because he doesn't maintain it. The ant has disappeared in the snow. The grasshopper is later found dead in a drug related incident and the house, now abandoned, is taken over by a gang of spiders who terrorize the once peaceful neighborhood.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Vote