Where I sit with Dad

Brought Dad his sandwich and hung out until Steven could get there. He's tired and out of it. Cancer is widespread - lung, brain, spine, liver, adrenal, kidneys-  but they say it's 'contained' for now. Meaning - when the drugs stop working, it will be fast. He will go in a matter of days or weeks. So we continue walking the tight rope between life and death, hope and reality.

Where I am a badass and sweat a lot

KBs outside, at the park down the street. First time for that - I get very self conscious working out in front of people, but I figure if I want to be an RKC and teach, I had better get over it. 

I brought the two 8kg and the 12kg. Since I'm doing yoga later, I left the 16kg at home. I started with a warm up of 40 single transfers with the 8kg. Then moved on to the 12kg, with one minute sets of single transfers, alternating with sets of 5 swings each before transferring. Let's see.... I think I did 2 30 second sets of double C&P, and then I started what I would like to call 'The Circle of Hell": There's a walking path that runs around the baseball field and the park itself. It's not huge, but I'd put it at maybe a half mile all the way around? Maybe a little more or less? I'm not good at estimating distance. Anyhoo, I did 5 swings R, snatched on the 5th, locked it out overhead, then walked 5 steps. Then stop, negative press, swing 5 again, snatch on the 5th, walk 10 steps, stop, negative press, swing to transfer, repeat on the other side. I would cycle through twice, then rest for 30 seconds, then go again. I did it until I reached my starting point. My total reps were 430. It was sunny. Not a lot of shade. It was fairly brutal, but in a good way. Raaaar! She Hulk maaaad!

I don't think I'm doing yoga until this evening - Dad has chemo today, and I'm supposed to bring him and Steven lunch. So, I'll shoot for the 5:30 class, which has my favorite instructor anyway. We'll see how I do. I'm curious.

Where I talk about my hair

I have always had curly hair. Actually, as a kid is was more thick and wavy, but once puberty and hormones hit, it turned into a crazy mess of frizzy, out-of-control Jew hair. I was mocked throughout all of junior high and some of high school because of my hair. I won't go into the names I was called, but coupled with my big-ass eyes (a genetic defect caused by sutures on my skull closing to soon when I was an infant) you can just imagine the fun I had growing up.

My eyes - well, I can't do anything to change them, I have learned to live with them. My hair, on the other hand, with the advent of super-duper straightening irons and miracle salves and balms and such, I've been able to tame my hair into waspy suburban submission. It generally takes me an hour or more to get it stick straight. I've been doing it less and less. Here's what I'm starting to think:

I started straightening my hair in an attempt to fit in and look like everyone else. Straight hair is seen as 'sexy', 'sleek', 'neat', 'polished'. Frizzy, curly, unruly hair is seen as 'too ethnic', 'messy', 'unattractive'. In my attempts to feel good within my skin, this has become an issue with me. So I'm trying to learn to love my hair, as is. I don't look like everyone else ,and I never will. That's not a bad thing. Would I change my looks if I could? No. 

The real reason I'm procrastinating my walk

Mendel thinks glasses are to be chewed on:

Must snuggle the cuteness:

Oh my god, I look completely insane. "KITTY!!!"

Where I post a gratuitous kitten photo

Mendel is getting big and is still fucking cute as hell. Even if he did give the other two old cats conjunctivitis. Did you know cats can get that? And new kittens can be carriers? And that they have to get drops in the infected eye 10 times a day and eat lysine off their food? Yeah, it's a pain in the ass, and Fred and Syds are miserable. Good thing Mendel is so cute!

How I really get through the day

Ha ha - not really. I bought a bottle of wine, and Dad thought it was funny to stick it in the cup holder on the way home. But it is bringing together my two great loves, coffee and booze!

What other people are seeing as anti-social behavior, or me being pissy and uncooperative, I know it's me being healthy and looking out for me. I can't keep putting myself last on the list of priorities. I have to start saying 'no' to some people, so I can say 'yes' to me.

I felt such overwhelming relief last night. I turned down doing the big Progressive Dinner this fall, I severed a few ties that were unhealthy, and I just felt like a weight was gone. I took a long walk, listened to the new NIN album, and looked at the moon. It was low and hazy, and Vega was visible just above it, a brilliant glistening blue-white. There's something so peaceful walking in the dark, observing the creatures that come out: slugs, opossums, grey foxes, bats, frogs, spiders spinning webs down from street lamps. Down by the creek, I can hear crickets and bullfrogs. There's no one out, just me. I felt so at peace. I thought 'I can't change who I am, any more than I can change who anyone else is.' I feel like the last year has been like playing dress up as a little girl: trying something new on for size, seeing if it worked, if it fit. If these types of people were true and loyal and friends. But it was just a masque, just play acting, just make believe. And the oddest part is: I don't feel sad. I don't feel like I've lost anything. You can't lose something you never had to begin with. So I just sighed and breathed, listen to more music, and looked at the moon.

.Did you think that your feet had been bound 
By what gravity brings to the ground? 
Did you feel you were tricked 
By the future you picked? 
Well, come on down 

All those rules don’t apply 
When you’re high in the sky 
So, come on down 
Come on down 

Pity, party of moi

As much as I think I could do Anne Sexton better than Anne Sexton (or Sylvia Plath), no I have not taken a handful of pills and sat in my garage with the engine running. My van wouldn't even fit, the garage is too small. I kid, I kid. Dark, ominous, inappropriate kidding. 

Not that I am not in a horrible place, and think bad things. But they're just thoughts, and trust me, I have had my hand on the phone off and on today, thinking "is it time for that 3 day stay at the psych ward?" But I'm not there yet. I am however, taking a wee break from my Dad, who is being incredibly douchy and pissy. My kids have had a craptastic summer, and I have to get them out of the house and to the pool. To expect them to sit in a dark house while my father sleeps off and on and listen to his nonstop criticism of them.... it's just unacceptable. Henry said to me today "Apaa rolls his eyes at you a lot." Yeah, kid, I know. I know. 

It's incredibly hard to go through this. Even more so, alone. I cannot paint a smile on anymore. I cannot be perky for acquaintances who can't handle the truth. And if one more asshole says "he seems FINE!", I am going to cut a bitch. Fer reals, y'all. 

In other news, I let Henry get a mohawk. Well, more of a fauxhawk, but he wears it better than that Maddox Jolie-Pitt kid could any day of the week.

Double angry Henry, looking like the badass he is:

*and thank you all for the comments, I read them and appreciate anyone that take the time to read my crap and write to me. I heart you all.

Where I don't work out and get a new kitten

No KBs in a week. Not going to give excuses- I just didn't. When I had the option of swinging or watching TV or sleeping, what do you think I chose? Not swinging. A lot going on with Dad. He's either failing fast, or getting delayed reactions to the treatment. Hard to say, but it's been a rough week. Needless to say, this:

is giving me a lot of joy right now. He's about 3 months old, and we don't have a name yet, but we're leaning towards Murray. He's a little cuddle bug!

Where I pee blood and learn the extent of my night blindness

Sorry for the lapse in posting... did I mention we were going to Mississippi? Anyway, we're back, and it was really a nice break from reality. My mother in law took me out and we did weapons-grade shopping. We're talking needing a hazmat suit for this shit. It was fun yet totally insane. For example, she got me these: 

Oh hell, yeah, motherfuckers. Silver leather Coach patchwork shoes. I actually gasped when I saw them. Then she also insisted I get a new dress for the reunion. I never got to go to my prom, and getting ready for this felt very much like what it must be like. PLus, my MIL totally blinged me out. I had on her diamond ring that Angie refers to as 'the skating rink' and a lovely teardrop diamond necklace.

You can't see the whole dress, but it was floor length, with vertical ruffles cascading down the front. As Angie said, it made me look 10 feet tall and like I was a size 2.

So yeah, that was all fun - except the night of the meet and greet, when I came down with a raging UTI. I've never had one of those little fuckers before. Oh dear, sweet baby Jesus. That was awful. It hit me out of nowhere, towards the end of the evening, and by the time we got home, I was miserable. Yes, I peed blood. I drank a ton of water and slept half the night on the bathroom floor. The next day, we found an urgent care nearby - I was halfway hoping it would be like the SNL skit Appalachia ER (it would have made a great story) - but it was fine, I got some Cipro, and was feeling better by the time I needed to get all fancied up.

So, at the end of the big bash, Bryan is shit faced. I had not planned on driving, so I didn't bring my glasses, my license, nothing. Plus, we were driving this, my father in laws insanely fast and expensive car. And I had to drive home. On unfamiliar roads. Without my glasses. Or a license. And there are no streetlights in rural Mississippi. Oh, and did I mention I am terribly night blind? I think it was a toss up as to who was better equipped to drive home. I white knuckled it the whole way home, I tell you!

The day after we came back, Leo's ashes were ready. We haven't had the funeral yet. They did his pawprints in some clay, it was a sweet memento. I'm dealing with all kinds of family crap and drama and a sick dad and a mom who makes me feel guilty for sport, and all I want to do is go back to my in-laws house, where I feel loved and appreciated and they hand out compliments like it's normal. I miss my demonic nieces. Best quote of the trip? My sister in law Angie yelling at Isabella "Keep the underwear and death talk to yourself!" Hee! You kind of had to be there.

I went on a 2 hour walk last night. No kbs since I've been back, yet. It's hard to get back into a routine after vacation. That's all I got. Time to get off my ass....

Crossing the Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. 

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. 
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. 
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. 

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. 
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind. 

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. 

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart. 

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.... 

Rest in Peace, my sweet Leo. Until we meet again....

Where I say goodbye

Dear Leo,

You have been a good cat. I still remember the first time I saw you, in a sea of adoptable kitties, there you were, the ugliest and orneriest one there. I pointed to you and said 'that one'. My then-husband said 'really? He's kind of ugly' - but there was something about you I just fell in love with. You have been a pistol from Day one. You are the alpha male of the house, you have ruled the roost, and been my little buddy. You have been a wonderful companion to me, and always seemed to know when I needed you to crawl up in my lap. I will miss having you to snuggle with at night, the way you would burrow your face into the crook of my neck and purr. I am going to miss you so much, it hurts. But it seems selfish to keep you alive, knowing how crappy you feel. I know you will go to a better place, where you will be a young cat again, and eat tuna all day, and there will be all manner of critters for you to chase. Hopefully, there will be a nice angel's lap to curl up in, too. I am going to make the most of these last few days with you, and give you a proper send off. You've been the best cat anyone could ask for, and I know that I will see you again, someday.

Love, Mommy

These tears I've cried

I've cried 1000 oceans

And if Im floating

In the darkness

Well I cant believe that I would keep

Keep you from flying

And I will cry 1000 more if thats

What it takes to sail you home

Sail you home sail you home

Where I survive Mother's Day, barely

Mother's Day is kind of a crock, I've always thought. The things I treasure the most are the little homemade things the kids bring home from school. I don't like the grand gestures, they smack of a certain falseness. A forced appreciation. It means more when my husband does random stuff for me throughout the year, not just on one stupid prescribed day!

Anyhoo, I did make a rockin' brunch for my Mom, which she was totally an hour late for, but I can't really blame her, it was circumstances beyond her control. We had scrambled eggs with peppers and onions, a metric ton of thick sliced bacon, and french toast soaked in amaretto and orange juice. Oh, and a fruit salad, too. I had bought a cherimoya based on Tracy's recommendation, and was really excited to cut into it. Let me tell you, it tasted like feet. Blergh, it was bad. And I love most fruit, but lord, this was about the worst! She must have a much more refined palate than me! Needless to say, it dod NOT go in the salad. It went in the trash.

I also made a pistachio cake filled with ricotta, candied orange rind and chocolate, frosted with ricotta and whipped cream. 

See?

My gift was no surprise - I picked it out! Another 8kg kettlebell to swing doubles with! I haven't tried it yet, after cooking all morning, i spent the rest of the day in total lazy lounge mode. There was much watching of bad TV and laying in bed with all 3 cats. I think I'll give it a whirl today. I haven't swung since last Wednesday, and I need to get on it. I still have those damn cookies to frost, too. Ack.

Where the blisters are healed, sort of.

Swing day, finally. Outside, too (!!!!!!) - almost too warm. Well, it's only in the mid 70's, but when you're used to temps in the 40s and 50s, that's a frigging heat wave. My right blister is still a little tender, so I was very careful in regards to hand placement. I also noticed that my fingers on the same hand were a little achy trying to do the hook grip. No matter, I got it done. 600 swings, only with the 8 kg. I didn't want to push it in terms of my hands, so I went light. I'll ease back into the heavier over the next week. I did a minute on, a minute off, except the last set, where I did 2 minutes of swinging (I was so close to the end, I just didn't want to stop!) It felt good. I have noticed that for me, no matter my energy level, the first 200 swings are the hardest to get through. I always feel weak and unmotivated. But if I can push past that, I find that I get quite an endorphin rush that will carry me through whatever workout I want to do. 

We're going to Stroud's for dinner tonight. Oy. It's one of Dad's favorites, and soon he won't be able to eat anything, so we want to go now, while he still feels ok. It doesn't sound good to me at all. This zoloft has left me with little to no appetite. Even when I'm hungry, nothing ever sounds good, so I find myself eating a little of whatever just so the hunger pangs go away. I don't enjoy food like I used to... which is good and bad, for obvious reasons.  

Here's my Dad, after we shaved what was left of his gorgeous head of hair.... I love you, Dad.

Where I have super-human strength

One thousand swings, motherfuckers. Check out the blisters:

Ignore that I look like shit... BECAUSE I DID A THOUSAND GODDAMN SWINGS IN ONE WORKOUT. 

I am cooler than cool. I feel especially accomplished, since I haven't touched a KB since we found out about Dad. I wasn't sure about my strength level. But after a workout of 550 swings, I wasn't tired, and felt like i could do more, and thought: I'm more than halfway to 1000, how hard can it be? At 720 I wasn't sure I could do it. At 800 I had renewed strength. By 920 I had to do it two handed, my right hand was cramping up. I'm sure I'm going to be a little sore tomorrow, but it's worth it. What a great way to channel stress.

This is totally how I act when I work out: