Hi guys! This has been a busy month. Three weekends ago, we painted about a third of the inside of the house, which was an ordeal. I pretty much hate every single aspect of painting, from cleaning up to taping to cutting in to rolling. And the only part I do like - moving everything back in to a freshly painted, clean, pretty room - I was too tired to enjoy.

Two weekends ago we had my uncle's family over for Grandpa's 85th birthday party. Yes, it was last month, but scheduling is tough. Laura still ended up working and being unable to come, but after cleaning the house and cooking and all the prep work, I don't think she minded too much.

Then, last week, the night of the party, my dad started experiencing severe abdominal pain. He said it was identical to what he felt just before his emergency surgery to remove an intestinal blockage from almost two years ago. He was ready to go to the emergency room when it finally went away, but he did schedule an appointment with that surgeon on Wednesday. When he got there, and they talked, the surgeon decided to admit him to the hospital to run some tests. When they first got him in and did the usual preliminary stuff, they found out his blood pressure was 85 over 50, and his heart rate 50, so it was like, what's going on?!

After four days of tests in the hospital, they determined...nothing. Not why he was feeling the pain in his middle, not why his blood pressure was so low. They did find out that his spleen and lymph nodes were slightly enlarged, but the oncologist who met with him said that the enlargment was so slight that he didn't want to do anything invasive just yet, and to have a CAT scan in six months and see if there's any change. So this past weekend was getting Dad home, getting him rested - because if there's one thing you don't do in a hospital, it's sleep - and get him fed, because after three days of no appetite before his appointment, he had four days of no or very little liquid food.

And in the meantime, I wrote, and Laura and I are working on some soon-to-be-not-secret craft stuff, and I started a new screenplay. That's kind of a different story, so I'll go into that more in depth later. Heh.

Things that are hard to do with a wrist brace on:

•Drive a car.
•Put in my contacts, especially my right one.
•Push a loaded grocery cart.
•Type.
•Eat while reading a paperback book.
•Clean house, especially putting away dishes.

I have done all of these things already today! It's really hard! I'm just glad it's my left wrist instead of my right one, since I'm right handed; that would have really made things difficult. I keep taking the brace off to see if the wrist has improved, since it doesn't hurt much when it's on unless I really try to do something stupid, but although it's definitely better than it was, it's still not in tip-top shape yet.

I am really excited about the script I'm working on right now. It's the third draft of my Lizzie Borden screenplay, and it just feels really good right now. Like, I've figured everything out, the characters are there, I'm hitting the right beats. I was trying to get it done before February was over, but I don't think that's going to happen now; my new goal is to have it finished by the second week of March, so I can use spring break to really polish it up and go over everything that's new.

For Holly: BSG S2 soundtrack. Speaking of which, where are you in the show? Let me know when you're up to Pegasus, okay?

On that note, Catherine, have you watched Yesterday's Enterprise yet?

You know what makes typing really hard? Wearing a wrist brace. I think I might have some carpel tunnel going on; my left wrist starting hurting on Thursday, pretty much in the middle of the day, without cause so far as I could tell. And I was whining and carrying on, like, why does my wrist randomly hurt? Then last night, I picked up a cross-stitch, and the very second that I grasped the fabric just so with my left hand to start work, pain shot up through my wrist like a bolt. So I think I'm going to lay off the stitching for a little bit, see if that helps. I had been trying to finish this project for my cousin-in-law, whose due date was Friday (I finished Saturday!), but she still hasn't had the baby.

Laura and I went to see Sherlock Holmes again. I know Giacchino's going to win the Best Score Oscar for Up - which irritates me on several levels, not least of which is the fact that I thought his own score for Star Trek was better - but I wish that Hans Zimmer would win for SH. It's a beautiful score, it really is. Right now, I'm guessing the movie will win for Production Design. I was idly thinking as I watched this time around, since I didn't have to pay as close attention to the plot, that steampunk would be a good choice for future home decoration. You've got the Victoriana, the fun gadgetry, but also the room in which to incorporate a lot of Neoclassicism. I've already thought about how to recreate some of the stuff from the film on a budget. Yes, this is how I spend my daydreaming driving time.

I went to an optometrist today, for the first time in around six or seven years. I had noticed for just about the last year, if not longer, that even with my contacts in, I was having trouble seeing in the distance, and things were blurry. (Of course, without my contacts in, I can't see a thing unless it's within six inches of my face.)

I've always had a slight astigmatism, but this doctor, who I haven't seen before, decided to give me a contact for that eye which is shaped differently, ostensibly to help with the astigmatism. Except that it isn't work at all, so I'm sitting here with my trial contacts in and one side is blurry, which means I'm having a hard time focusing at all, and I'm pretty sure I'll have a debilitating headache soon. I don't want to just take the contacts out, in case it is just going to take a couple days to get used to it, but I'm really having trouble even reading the computer right now.

Anyway, my prescription changed from -225/-300 to -325/-350, which I thought was pretty impressive.

Yay! I'm sick again! Some weak people whine that the symptoms of the flu are just too much to go through, but I know they're just proof that one's immune system is functioning properly. It's like running a diagnostic. Do I ache all over like I've been hit with a baseball bat? Check. Am I generating a fever high enough to make me shake and shiver? Check. Am I producing absurd amounts of snot? Check. Do I have a deep, wracking cough tearing up my throat and sapping my will to live? Check. Am I able to remain upright for only half-hours at a time? Check.

I wonder what Gaius Baltar thinks of this.

Sarah won the county spelling bee! Now she goes on to the state spelling bee in Great Bend, which is about a four hour drive from KC. She's been studying for weeks, very diligent, and we're all very proud of her. This is unconnected with the Scripps spelling bee that you see on TV (at least, that's my understanding); she's doing the local qualifier for that next week.

I was really, REALLY hoping I could get through the winter unscathed, but no, I have the flu. Or maybe a really bad cold; I can never tell the difference. One day, and already the outside of my nose is completely red and raw. It's totally worth the extra money for the super-plush, lotion-infused, medicated Kleenexes, but I'm too incapacitated right now to go out and buy any.

CORRECTION: She just won the Scripps National Spelling Bee local qualifier. So if she wins the state bee, she goes on to Washington DC. We're definitely going to be studying and we think she's great, but we're not exactly thinking about travel plans, heh.

It was really exciting today. The sun came out for ten whole minutes.

I did something to my rotator cuff in my left shoulder about two weeks ago. Today was actually a good day, in that I remembered not to lift and do things with my left arm, but that has been the exception. Every day I toy with putting on a sling just so I am not constantly being like, "Oh, I need to grab the heavy gallon of milk from the shelf that's directly level with my shoulder, why don't I use my LEFT ARM for that?" Advil works well, and it's not, like, horrible or anything, but I'd like to get it healed up soon, because I definitely can't go to the doctor over it.

I haven't written in about a month, which isn't too bad, because I'm going back through the draft and doing rewrites, and it's good to have some distance first. It helps me approach what I've written more objectively; I tend, if I look at something right after I write it, to be very happy with it. It's kind of sad, actually. I'm like, "Yeah! That's awesome! It's the best thing ever written in the history of the world!" Which isn't conducive to a polish, obviously. I was going to start back up today, but got cold feet. I'm going to end up having to bribe myself with lunch, sigh.

This weekend was very disappointing. Saturday was the Applefest, which I always look forward to. It was way crowded, hot, and we didn't even get to go to the orchard. I had an attack of the frugals and didn't buy anything other than a caramel apple, and am now regretting it. Plus, it was the second day of my headache, which I could not get rid of.

Yesterday was day three of headache, which pretty much ruins everything. I couldn't read, watch TV, be on the computer, or go out, without feeling like I was going to die. Today it's gone, which is great, and I've gotten some stuff done, but I really don't want to sit and stare at a computer all day and type up my pages, which is what I had planned, for fear that it will bring the headache back.

I'm excited about Heroes tonight. What the hell? Where did that come from?

I have a most horrible, pounding headache, because of my allergies. It has made entertaining myself this evening very difficult, as computer screens, TVs, and reading are all kind of painful. The headache's beginning to let up, because my dad gave me one of his surgery pain pills, but not to the extent that I want to sit and watch another episode of Pushing Daisies. Which means I have three to watch before the premiere tomorrow night, and I'm not sure I'll have the time, especially if I work.

I kind of feel like all of the topics which I normally blog about, we now have discussion threads for at the boards, so I'm not sure what to say here. Not that it matters, in the grand scheme of things, and this wouldn't be a problem if my life weren't so boring, but I have no funny anecdotes or anything to relate.

Ah well. I'm going to eat a piece of Laura's birthday cheesecake, and finish In Cold Blood.

ETA: Whenever I dream of a TV show (which isn't that often, but does happen), it's always a fake episode. Whether I'm watching it, participating in it, have run home to miss all but the last few minutes, or am flipping and catch a promo, it's always a fake, dream episode. Sometimes they're very real, sometimes not, but usually it's recognizable as that show's world, if that makes sense. Last night, I dreamed that I was watching an Entertainment Tonight promo for the upcoming Heroes, and the promo centered on watching Jack Coleman practice his singing and dancing. For the upcoming Heroes. The upcoming musical Heroes.

I woke up and was like, thank you, brain.

So, it's been a long two weeks. Just as I was finishing up my script, I started to come down with a sinus infection. Which turned out to be the worst of my life, I think. I had to call in for a sub for two days (a sub for a sub; I'm sure they were pleased), and it made the revision and printing off of my scripts really, really fun. I found out after school that Thursday that the next day would be my last as the language arts maternity sub (since I'm uncertified, I can only sub 30 cumulative days for the same teacher, according to the state; whatever); last week I was back to general subbing, which is easier and yet not. Easier because I don't have to make lesson plans or really teach, for the most part; harder because I've lost what thin veneer of authority I was able to work up.

Since then, my sinus infection has turned into this awful rattling chest cough, and my dad wants me to go to the doctor, but I will not. I will ride this out! I am young and hale! I don't have health insurance!

Oh, Friday's BSG was so good, it kind of hurt, knowing it's the last season. I really hate SciFi for not just committing to a fifth season, which made the EPs decide to finish up in four and know that they were going to end on their terms; I feel like we're rushing, a bit, and skipping broad story and character progressions to get to the endgame, but this last episode clicked in a very strong way. I can't believe we're already more than halfway through the front ten; I'm almost glad SciFi is splitting the season up, just to make it last longer.

Yesterday I had to scrape ice off my windshield. Today I went outside in short sleeves without a jacket. Oh, March, you crazy bitch.

I'm quite proud of myself for finishing act one of my Lizzie Borden screenplay, without deadlines or external pressure. I wrote this morning, and it's still just trucking along. I have felt very productive recently, which is a nice change of pace. After coming home in May, I've had extended periods of blah, and it's good to have some purpose. Part of it the last week, I know, has been because I just joined the Y, and am exercising again, which always makes one feel better.

When my mom and I went to see The Other Boleyn Girl, we did so with free passes to an advance screening she got from a friend. There, we met an older retired couple who have the inside track to all the free KC screenings, and have hooked us up. Tomorrow, I will hopefully (if I didn't RSVP too late) get to see Run, Fat Boy, Run. Laura can't come, since she has two midterms that afternoon :(, but I'm still excited anyway.

It's been a boring couple of weeks. I've been subbing a lot, and it's been really cold. We had two snows in the last week, and it's snowing again today; I can't ever remember having such a rough, cold, snowy winter. As much as I've bemoaned the lack of seasons while at school the last seven years, this is kind of taking things too far.

For some reason, I have completely stalled on watching new movies. We didn't end up seeing There Will Be Blood, and it's been two months since I've been to the theater. Which is a really long time. Sigh.

And, to sum things up, I have the flu. Again. It's much nastier this time around, though, and I've pretty much been exhausted the last three days. It looks as though I won't be working this week; I don't think I'm up to it, and it's not that responsible to work around kids when one is potentially still contagious. (I'm not sure how it works. The old wives' tale is that if you don't have a fever, you're not contagious, but I'm not sure if that's true or not.)

For fun, I've been keeping a list of kids' names at school. I wonder about parents who misspell their child's name, or spell it in a weird, kre8tiv way, or use an ethnic name and then not know how to pronounce it. Some highlights: "Cierra", the new bastardized version of "Ciara", which should be pronounced like "Keira," but instead is pronounced like "Sierra." Even though I knew while taking role that the girl pronounced her name the latter way, I asked anyway. Because I think she has the right to know her parents are stupid. "Arek," instead of "Erik." "Alijah," which I said out loud as "Elijah," but was in fact pronounced like the singer "Aaliyah's" name. (Which isn't even a name to begin with, I don't think.) McKinley. For a girl. As a first name. Dominique. For a boy. Pronounced "Dominic."

My favorite? Kipchogue. ???

Obviously being really sick around Christmas wasn't dancing close enough to the scary edge of having no health insurance. I'm a thrill seeker, I wanted to go one step further. See, Tuesday night, getting out of the shower, I had thought that I'd stubbed my little toe in the metal thingy that the doors run in. I was getting into my PJs, thinking, ouch ouch I get it, stop hurting. And as I gathered up my clothes, there was blood on my pants. Awesome, I tore my nail. So I walk down the hall to go downstairs, to put my clothes in the laundry, and both Laura and Sarah in the front room point at me and exclaim.

I had not just stubbed my toe. I had sliced the everloving shit out of it. Two almost perpendicular cuts, down to the bone. Pools of blood everywhere. Literal, actual pools. I was sat down, and then I was laid down, as apparently I turned ghost white at the same time I suddenly felt light headed and nauseated.

There was a discussion over whether or not I should go to the emergency room, and yes, I should have. But I can't afford an ER visit, and neither can my parents, not really, so I didn't go. We just bandaged it up tightly and thankfully, it seems to be knitting together just fine. But I've had some fine times, lurching about the house like some lady Igor. And there's really nothing like getting your sister to change your foot bandage once a day. :(