So where to begin? The State Fair seems as good a place as any. We had a super fun time at the California State Fair. The first year it was just Aaron and I, which was magical. This year we went with Jon, Josh, Sean, and Sean's lady-friend Amanda and had a great time. I sprained my ankle mysteriously the week prior, so I was a little concerned I may not be able to go at all. Vicodin saw me through it.
The day after we all got together for drinks and a game of Arkham Horror. It being Amanda's first time, she got to choose the Old One that would seal our fate. She blindly chose Cthulu. Oh noes! Much to our surprise, we did actually did really well. The terror track barely rose at all and thanks to Josh's suicide bombings, we wound up winning the game. Against Cthulu. /flex
That paragraph likely only meant anything to about five of you, so for everyone else I apologize.
So about my ankle then...
Several weeks ago my ankle began to hurt. At the time I thought, "My, this is uncomfortable," but didn't think anything of it. Mostly because I could not recall having done anything to injure it. The next day the entire exterior part of my foot was bruised. The day after that, my ankle was so swollen that the bone looked like my kneecap. I called my doctor to set up an appointment, but they were not able to get me in until the following week, so instead Aaron took me to the emergency room.
At the emergency room they took an X-ray and determined that the bone was not broken. They diagnosed me with a major sprain, gave me an ACE bandage and some crutches, then sent me on my way. I went to my doctor later on for a follow-up, as directed, and she confirmed the diagnosis. Since the swelling and bruising were still present (albeit way better than it had been) she gave me prescription strength Naproxen and told me to take it easy fro an additional two weeks.
Four weeks to heal a sprain, wtf did I do?
My doctor suspects that recovery is slowed by my neuropathy. Since I cannot feel my feet, I forget the extent of my injury and do things a person in my situation would normally find too painful to do -- ultimately refreshing the damage. If it isn't better by the next appointment, I'll have to go to physical therapy. Meh.
Speaking of my neuropathy, I called Blue Cross to schedule a hearing and they said they would be sending me something in the mail within 2 weeks. Well, 2 weeks passed and I had not received anything, so Monday I called to inquire as to why. The person over the phone could not figure out why my appointment had been declined and needed to make some calls in regards to find out more information. Once she had done this, she said, she'd call me back in a day or so. Tuesday night no one had made any attempt to contact me at all, so this morning (Wednesday) I called again.
This man was far more helpful. While he also could not find ANYTHING on file as to why my appointment with a Neurologist had been declined, he kept me on the line while he made a bunch of phone calls trying to figure it out for me. What it came down to was one of two reasons, neither of which are related to my health whatsoever.
The first: the loopy receptionist who left us waiting in the neurologist's office last month? Well she also works at my Primary Care Physician's office and when she filled out the paperwork for the insurance company to approve -- she spelled the neurologist's name wrong. Completely wrong. So when the insurance company ran a check to make certain this guy was part of their plan, they could not find him on record. So they thought my doctor had tried to schedule me an appointment with a doctor outside of my group and declined the appointment.
The second: my doctor's name is Irina. The office she works for is Greenberg. Greenberg is not her name. The insurance company did not recognize my primary care physician as being the referral doctor because they mistakenly thought my P.C.P. was Greenberg. Therefor when the request came through it was denied because they assumed the referral was made by an outside doctor.
In other words: herp derp.
In either case no reason was ever filed by the insurance company, so there was no way to know which of these was the case and in turn, who was really at fault. Furthermore because there was essentially no record of the appointment, let alone it having been declined, the man suggested I simply go back to my doctor and have her submit the paperwork over again. Though he also filed a grievance on my behalf, just in case. So at least there is a record about my complaint in case I encounter an issue like this again.
Unrelated, many of you have probably noticed many of my updates on bookface recently have to do with Neelix. Essentially he injured himself and compulsively licks and scratches at the wound making it worse. A cone around his neck would fix the problem, if the place where he had injured himself were not his gd neck! So instead he requires constant supervision. This means Aaron and I have to take turns staying up all night caring for him.
He gets Vetricyn 3-4 times per day as well as the area thoroughly (but gently) washed and at night he gets a gauze pad put in place, secured by a bandage made from the cuff of a sock I hemmed to suit the purpose. We tried using bandages but he would just get his tongue or nails stuck in the knit and ruin it. The cotton is much better to that end.
He will undoubtedly get better, the wound was never so bad to actually endanger his health, it just needs to be taken care of so he doesn't make it worse. The fur is growing back and it's no longer raw from being licked, so that's good. I'll definitely be buying more Vetricyn in the future though. It fights bacteria, viruses, fungi and increases oxygenation of wounds to speed healing. To anyone with a pet, you should definitely keep some of this handy. No matter what the problem (allergies, laceration, puncture wound, insect sting, etc.) it really does help.
In the meanwhile we're stressed and seriously sleep deprived. We consider it practice for the future, when we have babies. Only we don't have the comfort of knowing he'll grow out of this. Who'd have thought a pet could be more work than an actual child?
On the subject of cats...
Last week Aaron brought me some beautiful orange lilies, just because. In a fit of jealous rage (because the cat likes to fancy herself cat-wife) Intruder knocked the vase over onto my desk splashing water onto my laptop. It wasn't very much water, and it didn't appear to have gotten beyond the keyboard, so there was no reason to assume the worst. Not until the keyboard randomly began inputting whatever the hell it wanted with no actual contact. I powered it down and waited 36 hours before turning it back on to let it dry out. Normally that's all it really takes when electronics get a bit wet.
Sadly, even after it was all dried out the problem persisted. I was hoping to get at least another year out of this laptop before needing a new computer, but looks like I no longer have that luxury. I had my mother ship my old laptop out to me from Ohio, so that I at least had something reliable to use. Though that one has maybe half the gaming capacity the other one had, so it doesn't bode well there.
In other news, school starts soon. I don't know if I'll actually be attending though. Much to my dismay all of the classes I actually want/need to take were completely filled up -- to the point of there not even being an available wait list. I can try crashing classes and just begging to be let in, but given how full they apparently are, I get the feeling I just may wind up having to wait until next semester.
Not a HUGE deal, but I was really looking forward to taking Sign Language with Aaron, and also not being home alone while he is at class. No sense letting it get to me though, I've had quite enough stress lately to deal with.
On that note, I anticipate wedding planning kicking into official capacity this fall, once I get a better feel about which month precisely will work best for an outdoor Autumn wedding. Any advice to that end is sincerely encouraged. Having never been married before, I obviously do not possess much know-how here. Tips, tricks and even things you may think of as mundane, I'd be happy to hear-out.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
MMORPG's
From time to time I look back fondly on all the MMO's I've played. Even the ones that took an unforeseen turn for the worse -- I focus on the enjoyable experiences prior to whatever patch or bug destroyed the game and/or community. It's not quite nostalgia, because I do not long to return to any of the games I've stopped playing. I stopped playing them for a reason afterall. I just like to think back to the days of old, when each MMO actually had something that set it apart from whatever other game was on the market at the time. Not things that made it necessarily better, just things that set them apart. That's difficult to find now.
Most MMO's bank all of their effort toward repeating whatever worked for whichever game came before it based on popularity of said game. This ultimately fails because it provides gamers with absolutely no reason to switch from the game they're already playing to the new game. Why start over with no gear, friends, or money in a game that's basically exactly what you're playing anyway?
A lot of people incorrectly label this the WoW Effect. Since World of Warcraft was for many people their first MMO experience, every game which followed afterward that had similar features was dubbed a WOW clone. With even just the slightest amount of actual research however, you will realize that most of the features in WOW were actually completely ripped off from other MMOs before it. That's right, Warcraft was not innovative at all. For instance the beloved PVP battlegrounds everyone thinks are token WoW material were actually alive and well in DAoC long beforehand. Talent trees, classes specialties, and even PVE instancing were all present in games predating WoW by years.
I find it incredibly interesting that while I liked WoW the least, it was one of the longest games I ever played. The learning curve was nonexistent. You could effectively do most tasks by rolling your face back and forth across your keyboard and get by just fine. The expansions were always just more of the same, to the point where even the models and other art were simply copy pastas of previous content. World PVP did not exist once BGs were introduced which reduced all player v. player conflicts to mundane, preplanned events. The only thing WoW had was the people.
Don't misunderstand. The majority of the Warcraft community is akin to some sort of special gaming Olympics. Millions of invalids who can do nothing but regurgitate old memes at one another with the overall combined charisma of a rancid turnip. Every once in a great while though, you'd stumble upon a genuinely intelligent, reliable human being. And if you were really lucky, they will have already sought out other such individuals and combined themselves into a small tightly knit guild, making the game worth playing where otherwise it would not be.
It's amazing how one or two great people can keep you around when all else can't. Especially when you manage to find them in what is essentially the Mos Eisley of gaming communities. Looking at the other games I've played, the reasons I had for sticking around post-apocalypse were much simpler. They were fun. Dark Age of Camelot had amazing PVP in its youth. Anarchy Online had a truly imaginative PvE instancing system, catering your 'dungeon' to your specific desires. To this day I am unaware of any true MMO that allows that. Starwars Galaxies had astounding role-play. Matrix Online had a truly immersing environment, add in enjoyable combat and interactive locking emotes and you had the recipe for role-player bliss. Everquest 2 was just amusing to play, the mechanics were simple but efficient. Age of Conan had a seriously innovative combat system and an impressively loyal community. Warhammer Online was an entertaining foray into the living, breathing Warhammer universe.
Ironically their short-comings were somehow related to why they had been worth playing in the first place.
DAoC tried to out-do their own PVP experience and basically ruined what had kept people playing in the first place. Seeing the error of their ways they reintroduced 'classic' servers. Sadly it was too little too late for the game to make a complete recovery, resulting in the combining of servers to combat the ghost towns they had become.
AO didn't change. Which is both good and bad. The good is that the gameplay remained entertaining and unique. They never tried to over-do it. This is also bad though because it made the game stagnate. The graphics are more or less the same as they had been when the game came out ages ago, despite all of the vast advancements in computer capabilities. Funcom has had a graphical overhaul planned since 2007, but there has been no change and no set date as to when this change could be expected.
This means your playerbase is composed entirely of the especially die-hard fans of the game and no one else. New players won't join because they dislike the subpar graphics and many old players leave because they've grown bored. If a new player does get over how out-dated the entire game is, they feel lost and hopelessly too far behind as soon as they login and realize almost everyone they meet is 200 levels higher than they are.
You can play it for free, however, so there is no reason not to play it every once in a while.
SWG's role-play came to a grinding halt once they took a game with over 20 classes, that you could hybridize to endless possibility -- to a game with fewer than 10 starting professions that could not stray from the set path in any capacity whatsoever. One completely game-altering 'upgrade' was enough. The second effectively killed the game and it's now shutting down forever come December. Despite the communities outrage and disappointment, SOE decided not to heed them and refused to roll-back to how the game had been, or even provide a 'classic' server where people could get away from the NGE. This was such an enormous marketing disaster that a member of the staff who pushed the NGE forward actually killed himself.
It is to my knowledge one of the most devastating changes made to an MMO in history.
MxO had everything going for it, except that it was run by SOE. They couldn't leave well-enough alone and made change after change until the original player base had basically evaporated. It remained alive for a little while, attracting the occasional Matrix fan, but ultimately met a swift, timely end. The rate at which SOE is handed liscences to games that should have 0 chance of failure, that fail, is boggling.
EQ had a very easy-to-play gaming experience. Quests were easy to follow, combat was simply executed, and they offered an optional graphical upgrade to those who wished it. Meaning if you had a crappy computer, you could still play, but if you had a good computer you could play and not look like you were molded out of Playdoh. While a simple game is a nice get away from games that require some form of degree to play right, it also gives you little reason to stick around. By level 20, you really had nothing to do but continue leveling up. Money was easy to come by. Leveling was a breeze. PVP only existed on certain servers. The most fun I had after level 20 in EQ2 was decorating my character's apartment.
AoC had one of the most innovative combat experiences I've ever had the joy of playing with. Incidentally it also had the smoothest launch of any MMO I've played -- and I've suffered through a lot of game launches. Patch after patch however created bug after bug and Funcom was rather disinterested in fixing them in any timely manner. This created issues that completely broke the game. The fantastic combat system was now a method by which you could charge up and behead someone at 10 yards; before you'd normally even be in range to swing at them.
This bug also only effected melee characters, so before long all of the healers and mages disappeared and the world was filled with warriors running around trying to chop off eachother's heads. Combine that with Funcom going back on their no graveyard camping policy, this meant that if you beheaded someone and ran to the resurrection pad fast enough -- you could murder them repeatedly all day.
This obviously had several damaging effects on the game. Since all of the healers and mages rerolled as melee... you could no longer efficiently get any PVE done. Which meant your entire gameplay experience rested on the enjoyment of PVP. Which you also couldn't do because any time you logged on, someone would chop off your head from 10 yards away before you even loaded.
Now, before you think, "You're just upset because people were chopping off your head!" you should know that I was usually the one doing the head-chopping. I'm just not so much of an ass I can't admit that it was broken.
Warhammer Online was the purist disappointment when it came to games I had been looking forward to. It was developed by Mythic, who did magical things with DAoC back in the day, so I was expecting more of that. It was also set in the richly story driven Warhammer world. How could they go wrong? Well, basically they pushed the game out much too fast, meaning that while all of the races were present, only two of their cities had been included in the game. They also apparently forgot that at the essence of Warhammer is role-play... because there were absolutely no tools implemented within the game to make this possible. You could not walk, or sit, or write custom emotes; you could barely even customize your character (which is forgivable provided you can do all of those other things).
They decided to make the focus PVE and PVP, which is fine as a Mythic game. That's basically what DAoC had been, but as a Warhammer game this was unacceptable. You had this vast, rich world full of life... and no way to interact with it. It was surprisingly disappointing. World PVP was also kind of broken, which left you to do nothing but run BGs. In which case, you may as well have been playing any other MMO already out, like I mentioned above, and avoided starting over. Which is exactly what happened after the first month live.
I realize this turned into more of a rant than I had originally intended starting out. I could gripe about the cons until the cows come home, or alternatively fawn over the pros until I convinced you to play them, but I think I'll spare you this time.
In short, what I was getting at was this: why can't developers create something fun anymore? Something that takes what's right about the other games and combines it all together, leaving out the bad. I mean, that is what made WOW successful. To copy Warcraft's success you do not need to make a clone of WOW. You need to do as they did and steal every good idea from every other MMO currently on the market.
Then, while it would not be a completely unique idea, it would at least be worth switching to from whatever you're playing now. I don't want mind blowing innovation. In my experience that's always bad (Tabula Rasa, Mortal Online, DDO, GW, etc.). Also, why is it the new trend in MMO's that to be innovative you have to switch to first-person perspective? That's not innovative, especially when nothing else is any different mechanically. I swear if one more up-and-coming MMO decides to broaden it's audience by being first-person, I'll punch them with a dolphin.
I like toast and butter. I do not like toast crumbs in my butter. In that light: I like first-person shooter games and I like role-playing games. I do not however enjoy FPS games in my RPG games. If I wanted to play an FPS, that's what I would've bought. ffs.
Most MMO's bank all of their effort toward repeating whatever worked for whichever game came before it based on popularity of said game. This ultimately fails because it provides gamers with absolutely no reason to switch from the game they're already playing to the new game. Why start over with no gear, friends, or money in a game that's basically exactly what you're playing anyway?
A lot of people incorrectly label this the WoW Effect. Since World of Warcraft was for many people their first MMO experience, every game which followed afterward that had similar features was dubbed a WOW clone. With even just the slightest amount of actual research however, you will realize that most of the features in WOW were actually completely ripped off from other MMOs before it. That's right, Warcraft was not innovative at all. For instance the beloved PVP battlegrounds everyone thinks are token WoW material were actually alive and well in DAoC long beforehand. Talent trees, classes specialties, and even PVE instancing were all present in games predating WoW by years.
I find it incredibly interesting that while I liked WoW the least, it was one of the longest games I ever played. The learning curve was nonexistent. You could effectively do most tasks by rolling your face back and forth across your keyboard and get by just fine. The expansions were always just more of the same, to the point where even the models and other art were simply copy pastas of previous content. World PVP did not exist once BGs were introduced which reduced all player v. player conflicts to mundane, preplanned events. The only thing WoW had was the people.
Don't misunderstand. The majority of the Warcraft community is akin to some sort of special gaming Olympics. Millions of invalids who can do nothing but regurgitate old memes at one another with the overall combined charisma of a rancid turnip. Every once in a great while though, you'd stumble upon a genuinely intelligent, reliable human being. And if you were really lucky, they will have already sought out other such individuals and combined themselves into a small tightly knit guild, making the game worth playing where otherwise it would not be.
It's amazing how one or two great people can keep you around when all else can't. Especially when you manage to find them in what is essentially the Mos Eisley of gaming communities. Looking at the other games I've played, the reasons I had for sticking around post-apocalypse were much simpler. They were fun. Dark Age of Camelot had amazing PVP in its youth. Anarchy Online had a truly imaginative PvE instancing system, catering your 'dungeon' to your specific desires. To this day I am unaware of any true MMO that allows that. Starwars Galaxies had astounding role-play. Matrix Online had a truly immersing environment, add in enjoyable combat and interactive locking emotes and you had the recipe for role-player bliss. Everquest 2 was just amusing to play, the mechanics were simple but efficient. Age of Conan had a seriously innovative combat system and an impressively loyal community. Warhammer Online was an entertaining foray into the living, breathing Warhammer universe.
Ironically their short-comings were somehow related to why they had been worth playing in the first place.
DAoC tried to out-do their own PVP experience and basically ruined what had kept people playing in the first place. Seeing the error of their ways they reintroduced 'classic' servers. Sadly it was too little too late for the game to make a complete recovery, resulting in the combining of servers to combat the ghost towns they had become.
AO didn't change. Which is both good and bad. The good is that the gameplay remained entertaining and unique. They never tried to over-do it. This is also bad though because it made the game stagnate. The graphics are more or less the same as they had been when the game came out ages ago, despite all of the vast advancements in computer capabilities. Funcom has had a graphical overhaul planned since 2007, but there has been no change and no set date as to when this change could be expected.
This means your playerbase is composed entirely of the especially die-hard fans of the game and no one else. New players won't join because they dislike the subpar graphics and many old players leave because they've grown bored. If a new player does get over how out-dated the entire game is, they feel lost and hopelessly too far behind as soon as they login and realize almost everyone they meet is 200 levels higher than they are.
You can play it for free, however, so there is no reason not to play it every once in a while.
SWG's role-play came to a grinding halt once they took a game with over 20 classes, that you could hybridize to endless possibility -- to a game with fewer than 10 starting professions that could not stray from the set path in any capacity whatsoever. One completely game-altering 'upgrade' was enough. The second effectively killed the game and it's now shutting down forever come December. Despite the communities outrage and disappointment, SOE decided not to heed them and refused to roll-back to how the game had been, or even provide a 'classic' server where people could get away from the NGE. This was such an enormous marketing disaster that a member of the staff who pushed the NGE forward actually killed himself.
It is to my knowledge one of the most devastating changes made to an MMO in history.
MxO had everything going for it, except that it was run by SOE. They couldn't leave well-enough alone and made change after change until the original player base had basically evaporated. It remained alive for a little while, attracting the occasional Matrix fan, but ultimately met a swift, timely end. The rate at which SOE is handed liscences to games that should have 0 chance of failure, that fail, is boggling.
EQ had a very easy-to-play gaming experience. Quests were easy to follow, combat was simply executed, and they offered an optional graphical upgrade to those who wished it. Meaning if you had a crappy computer, you could still play, but if you had a good computer you could play and not look like you were molded out of Playdoh. While a simple game is a nice get away from games that require some form of degree to play right, it also gives you little reason to stick around. By level 20, you really had nothing to do but continue leveling up. Money was easy to come by. Leveling was a breeze. PVP only existed on certain servers. The most fun I had after level 20 in EQ2 was decorating my character's apartment.
AoC had one of the most innovative combat experiences I've ever had the joy of playing with. Incidentally it also had the smoothest launch of any MMO I've played -- and I've suffered through a lot of game launches. Patch after patch however created bug after bug and Funcom was rather disinterested in fixing them in any timely manner. This created issues that completely broke the game. The fantastic combat system was now a method by which you could charge up and behead someone at 10 yards; before you'd normally even be in range to swing at them.
This bug also only effected melee characters, so before long all of the healers and mages disappeared and the world was filled with warriors running around trying to chop off eachother's heads. Combine that with Funcom going back on their no graveyard camping policy, this meant that if you beheaded someone and ran to the resurrection pad fast enough -- you could murder them repeatedly all day.
This obviously had several damaging effects on the game. Since all of the healers and mages rerolled as melee... you could no longer efficiently get any PVE done. Which meant your entire gameplay experience rested on the enjoyment of PVP. Which you also couldn't do because any time you logged on, someone would chop off your head from 10 yards away before you even loaded.
Now, before you think, "You're just upset because people were chopping off your head!" you should know that I was usually the one doing the head-chopping. I'm just not so much of an ass I can't admit that it was broken.
Warhammer Online was the purist disappointment when it came to games I had been looking forward to. It was developed by Mythic, who did magical things with DAoC back in the day, so I was expecting more of that. It was also set in the richly story driven Warhammer world. How could they go wrong? Well, basically they pushed the game out much too fast, meaning that while all of the races were present, only two of their cities had been included in the game. They also apparently forgot that at the essence of Warhammer is role-play... because there were absolutely no tools implemented within the game to make this possible. You could not walk, or sit, or write custom emotes; you could barely even customize your character (which is forgivable provided you can do all of those other things).
They decided to make the focus PVE and PVP, which is fine as a Mythic game. That's basically what DAoC had been, but as a Warhammer game this was unacceptable. You had this vast, rich world full of life... and no way to interact with it. It was surprisingly disappointing. World PVP was also kind of broken, which left you to do nothing but run BGs. In which case, you may as well have been playing any other MMO already out, like I mentioned above, and avoided starting over. Which is exactly what happened after the first month live.
I realize this turned into more of a rant than I had originally intended starting out. I could gripe about the cons until the cows come home, or alternatively fawn over the pros until I convinced you to play them, but I think I'll spare you this time.
In short, what I was getting at was this: why can't developers create something fun anymore? Something that takes what's right about the other games and combines it all together, leaving out the bad. I mean, that is what made WOW successful. To copy Warcraft's success you do not need to make a clone of WOW. You need to do as they did and steal every good idea from every other MMO currently on the market.
Then, while it would not be a completely unique idea, it would at least be worth switching to from whatever you're playing now. I don't want mind blowing innovation. In my experience that's always bad (Tabula Rasa, Mortal Online, DDO, GW, etc.). Also, why is it the new trend in MMO's that to be innovative you have to switch to first-person perspective? That's not innovative, especially when nothing else is any different mechanically. I swear if one more up-and-coming MMO decides to broaden it's audience by being first-person, I'll punch them with a dolphin.
I like toast and butter. I do not like toast crumbs in my butter. In that light: I like first-person shooter games and I like role-playing games. I do not however enjoy FPS games in my RPG games. If I wanted to play an FPS, that's what I would've bought. ffs.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
It's Not Easy Being Cheesy
Dear Cheese Grater,
You are obtuse and awkward to use. There simply has got to be a better way. When I want freshly grated Parm for my pasta, I should not have to exert so much effort and time. I burn all of the calories I am about to consume by spending ten minutes mindlessly dragging cheese, back and forth, over you. This practically voids the entire eating process that is to follow. Can we somehow work this out?
Sincerely,
Inari
You are obtuse and awkward to use. There simply has got to be a better way. When I want freshly grated Parm for my pasta, I should not have to exert so much effort and time. I burn all of the calories I am about to consume by spending ten minutes mindlessly dragging cheese, back and forth, over you. This practically voids the entire eating process that is to follow. Can we somehow work this out?
Sincerely,
Inari
Friday, July 8, 2011
I Told You So
See? My effort to make entries more frequently hasn't gone well, though I did warn ahead of time that that would probably be the case. So you can't say I didn't tell you so.
My appointment with the neurologist was canceled. My insurance didn't approve it in time for the appointment. No big deal, right? Well no one informed me. So we drove out to the doctor, signed in, and waited about an hour in the waiting room. A long wait is understandable, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary until the woman who came in after me with an appointment time set after mine (discovered through her obsessive complaining about having to wait), got called back first.
So we're both confused and a little miffed. Was the loud whiny lady being called before me just so she'd stfu? The original receptionist who signed me in earlier and even highlighted my name to make sure the doctor knew I was around, had left, so there was a new woman behind the desk. When asked why the bitchy lady with an appointment scheduled after mine was called back by the same doctor I'm scheduled to see first, the woman checks her records and says I'm not scheduled to see the doctor at all.
Whut.
Supposedly someone had called and left me a message to inform me of this the day prior. Not so. The only message on my voice mail was from my grandfather a week earlier, and I had no recent missed calls. So she has me double check the number they've got on file. It's 100% correct. So more than likely whoever meant to call me misdialed -- or worse never called at all. Rather than tell me when I got there, the first receptionist just let us sit around and waste our afternoon. The current receptionist can do nothing but half assedly apologize on behalf of the first not doing her job, but that didn't make the situation any better.
When asked why my appointment had been canceled, the woman tells us that my primary care physician never authorized it. Uhm, my primary care physician was the doctor who sent me there. To not have authorized it would be retarded. So we trek across the street to my primary physician's office to see what's up.
The receptionist there says my insurance never approved the appointment and that it may just take a while for them to do so. Once they do, she claims, they will call me to set up a new appointment. This however never happens. Instead out of the blue I get a piece of mail from my insurance. Inside is nothing but a pamphlet about how I can file for a trial to argue my case for having a procedure or appointment denied; there is no actual notice that anything has been officially denied.
Whut.
My only guess for the appointment to have been denied in the first place is because I had a handful of neurology exams back East and the new insurance thinks those results are, "good enough." Even though I barely even saw a neurologist back there, and I was scheduled for more exams to figure out the underlying cause of my neuropathies. So... that's what I would've assumed would be happening here. They don't need to rerun the same tests (even though the quality of care here is better and they may find something overlooked by the past doctor) they need to run new tests.
If the damage isn't technically in my hands or feet, even though those are the areas affected, that means it's probably either in my spine or brains. Something that should probably be looked into, you'd imagine. I'll probably wind up having to call my insurance, sit on hold for a week, and then talk to someone who has no idea how to do their job, because in my experience people who answer phones for a living seldom do.
In other, related, news the new medication has been far more kind to me than the last. No radical mood swings or amnesia, though I'm thirsty constantly. Feels like my mouth is full of dust sometimes, it is so dry. No amazing improvements, though at times I can actually feel the pinky on my left hand. I'm not sure if that is related to the drug or not, but it's pretty cool (despite the fact that it feels like pins and needles, like it had fallen asleep and is trying to wake up for hours).
In unrelated news we spent a week in L.A. and had the Montero serviced. Wound up partying more in three days than we normally do in three months. Just because. Came home and the cats had exploded into poo. You can imagine my delight. Exactly what I wanted to do after an eight hour drive, scrub poo off of various surfaces.
Neelix manifested ear mites, so I'm treating him for that. He's pretty tolerant of having ear drops put in, though you can tell he's not a fan of the process.
More recently we had a miniBBQ for the fourth of July, and then went on a successful fireworks hunt. The only thing better than fireworks is fireworks with the one you love. This weekend we may or may not have company over, next weekend we may or may not go to the State Fair with Sean and his possibly-girlfriend, Jon and maybe Emily + Liz, that should be fantastical. I do believe we'll definitely be heading to San Jose though. We shall see.
My appointment with the neurologist was canceled. My insurance didn't approve it in time for the appointment. No big deal, right? Well no one informed me. So we drove out to the doctor, signed in, and waited about an hour in the waiting room. A long wait is understandable, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary until the woman who came in after me with an appointment time set after mine (discovered through her obsessive complaining about having to wait), got called back first.
So we're both confused and a little miffed. Was the loud whiny lady being called before me just so she'd stfu? The original receptionist who signed me in earlier and even highlighted my name to make sure the doctor knew I was around, had left, so there was a new woman behind the desk. When asked why the bitchy lady with an appointment scheduled after mine was called back by the same doctor I'm scheduled to see first, the woman checks her records and says I'm not scheduled to see the doctor at all.
Whut.
Supposedly someone had called and left me a message to inform me of this the day prior. Not so. The only message on my voice mail was from my grandfather a week earlier, and I had no recent missed calls. So she has me double check the number they've got on file. It's 100% correct. So more than likely whoever meant to call me misdialed -- or worse never called at all. Rather than tell me when I got there, the first receptionist just let us sit around and waste our afternoon. The current receptionist can do nothing but half assedly apologize on behalf of the first not doing her job, but that didn't make the situation any better.
When asked why my appointment had been canceled, the woman tells us that my primary care physician never authorized it. Uhm, my primary care physician was the doctor who sent me there. To not have authorized it would be retarded. So we trek across the street to my primary physician's office to see what's up.
The receptionist there says my insurance never approved the appointment and that it may just take a while for them to do so. Once they do, she claims, they will call me to set up a new appointment. This however never happens. Instead out of the blue I get a piece of mail from my insurance. Inside is nothing but a pamphlet about how I can file for a trial to argue my case for having a procedure or appointment denied; there is no actual notice that anything has been officially denied.
Whut.
My only guess for the appointment to have been denied in the first place is because I had a handful of neurology exams back East and the new insurance thinks those results are, "good enough." Even though I barely even saw a neurologist back there, and I was scheduled for more exams to figure out the underlying cause of my neuropathies. So... that's what I would've assumed would be happening here. They don't need to rerun the same tests (even though the quality of care here is better and they may find something overlooked by the past doctor) they need to run new tests.
If the damage isn't technically in my hands or feet, even though those are the areas affected, that means it's probably either in my spine or brains. Something that should probably be looked into, you'd imagine. I'll probably wind up having to call my insurance, sit on hold for a week, and then talk to someone who has no idea how to do their job, because in my experience people who answer phones for a living seldom do.
In other, related, news the new medication has been far more kind to me than the last. No radical mood swings or amnesia, though I'm thirsty constantly. Feels like my mouth is full of dust sometimes, it is so dry. No amazing improvements, though at times I can actually feel the pinky on my left hand. I'm not sure if that is related to the drug or not, but it's pretty cool (despite the fact that it feels like pins and needles, like it had fallen asleep and is trying to wake up for hours).
In unrelated news we spent a week in L.A. and had the Montero serviced. Wound up partying more in three days than we normally do in three months. Just because. Came home and the cats had exploded into poo. You can imagine my delight. Exactly what I wanted to do after an eight hour drive, scrub poo off of various surfaces.
Neelix manifested ear mites, so I'm treating him for that. He's pretty tolerant of having ear drops put in, though you can tell he's not a fan of the process.
More recently we had a miniBBQ for the fourth of July, and then went on a successful fireworks hunt. The only thing better than fireworks is fireworks with the one you love. This weekend we may or may not have company over, next weekend we may or may not go to the State Fair with Sean and his possibly-girlfriend, Jon and maybe Emily + Liz, that should be fantastical. I do believe we'll definitely be heading to San Jose though. We shall see.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
What's The Frequency, PT 2.
It's later enough. Today I'll talk about the progress and set-backs with my health.
If I've seemed at all unlike myself lately, there's a reason for it. The last medication I was put on to combat my neuropathies caused me to be miserable. Aside from randomly forgetting key moments in my day-to-day life, I was more or less angry all of the time. So if I have been short with you, or distant, it's nothing you did at all. Anti-convulsants effect the body in such a way that there's really no combating how they effect your mood other than not taking them at all. And even that is a tricky fix, because you need to be weened off of them. You cannot just quit.
There is a reason they warn of the severity of the side effects for Anti-convulsants. I didn't take them seriously at first, I definitely take them seriously now. I mean, honestly, who wants to think that the medicine you're taking may cause you to become a homicidal maniac? It seems so far fetched.
For about the last month or so I have been irritated all the time. Seriously. All of the time. For no tangible reason -- though outside irritants such as someone showing up late, or finding a dirty dish after having washed the rest would further irritate me to the point of rage. One afternoon it was so bad I actually had to remove myself from society and just lay down because my urge to punch someone or something was so intense that I wasn't sure if I could stop myself.
I would say that in such a case, the benefits are not worth the side effects. Sure, to not be in constant discomfort from my hands and feet would be grand. But not at the cost of my happiness. You can't be happy when you're inexplicably enraged 80% of the time. You just can't, and as a normally upbeat, contented individual, losing that is unacceptable.
I kept taking the medication in hopes that the side effects would be a temporary thing, as is the case with most medications when you first begin them. After a month however, I was still experiencing the full range of side effects.
So my doctor has prescribed a new drug, which I'm introducing into my regimen as I phase the old one out. This one works in a different way, so ideally I will better tolerate it. It does have side effects (all medications do) but they aren't as life-altering as what I was experiencing before. With this I may experience dizziness, dry mouth, increase in appetite, nervousness, drowsiness, sensitivity to sunlight, and possibly hypnagogia. That's the state of mind between waking and sleeping, where you're aware yet not completely.
Which compared to, radical mood swings, suicidal tendencies, irritation, amnesia, and a plethora of others, is a significantly better outlook. Even if I got all of them at once. :P
I've also got an appointment with a neurologist on the 30th of this month to see if he can discover anything that may have been over-looked back in Ohio. Where there was only 1 neurologist in the state and I had to wait 8 or more months to even get an appointment. Here I got in within a couple of weeks and get this, the neurologist's practice is next door to the primary care physician I already see. If getting in to see doctors were this swift back East, maybe I would've seen some progress already.
If I've seemed at all unlike myself lately, there's a reason for it. The last medication I was put on to combat my neuropathies caused me to be miserable. Aside from randomly forgetting key moments in my day-to-day life, I was more or less angry all of the time. So if I have been short with you, or distant, it's nothing you did at all. Anti-convulsants effect the body in such a way that there's really no combating how they effect your mood other than not taking them at all. And even that is a tricky fix, because you need to be weened off of them. You cannot just quit.
There is a reason they warn of the severity of the side effects for Anti-convulsants. I didn't take them seriously at first, I definitely take them seriously now. I mean, honestly, who wants to think that the medicine you're taking may cause you to become a homicidal maniac? It seems so far fetched.
For about the last month or so I have been irritated all the time. Seriously. All of the time. For no tangible reason -- though outside irritants such as someone showing up late, or finding a dirty dish after having washed the rest would further irritate me to the point of rage. One afternoon it was so bad I actually had to remove myself from society and just lay down because my urge to punch someone or something was so intense that I wasn't sure if I could stop myself.
I would say that in such a case, the benefits are not worth the side effects. Sure, to not be in constant discomfort from my hands and feet would be grand. But not at the cost of my happiness. You can't be happy when you're inexplicably enraged 80% of the time. You just can't, and as a normally upbeat, contented individual, losing that is unacceptable.
I kept taking the medication in hopes that the side effects would be a temporary thing, as is the case with most medications when you first begin them. After a month however, I was still experiencing the full range of side effects.
So my doctor has prescribed a new drug, which I'm introducing into my regimen as I phase the old one out. This one works in a different way, so ideally I will better tolerate it. It does have side effects (all medications do) but they aren't as life-altering as what I was experiencing before. With this I may experience dizziness, dry mouth, increase in appetite, nervousness, drowsiness, sensitivity to sunlight, and possibly hypnagogia. That's the state of mind between waking and sleeping, where you're aware yet not completely.
Which compared to, radical mood swings, suicidal tendencies, irritation, amnesia, and a plethora of others, is a significantly better outlook. Even if I got all of them at once. :P
I've also got an appointment with a neurologist on the 30th of this month to see if he can discover anything that may have been over-looked back in Ohio. Where there was only 1 neurologist in the state and I had to wait 8 or more months to even get an appointment. Here I got in within a couple of weeks and get this, the neurologist's practice is next door to the primary care physician I already see. If getting in to see doctors were this swift back East, maybe I would've seen some progress already.
What's The Frequency, Kenneth?
It occurs to me that to spare you from humongous entries, I should post more frequently. That realized and said, I probably won't.
I was going to start right now, for instance, but I'm in such a shitty mood I guess I'll come back to it later.
I was going to start right now, for instance, but I'm in such a shitty mood I guess I'll come back to it later.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Half & Half
Half a week in Ohio. Half a week in Michigan. 100% awesome.
Warning: Long entry is long.
Even though we left California at 9:00 AM we didn't arrive in Ohio until about 11:30 PM, thanks to the time change. This meant that the extent of our meet and greet was congregate at baggage claim, drive to hotel, and then everyone was tired except for the two of us. While my family left and went to bed, Aaron and I stayed up until about 3:00 AM EST (12:00 AM PST) watching Cartoons.
To swiftly acclimate to the time change we got up at 8:00 AM EST (5:00 AM PST). We were dog-tired, but we made the complimentary continental breakfast on time! Every day in fact. We'd wake up at around 8:00 AM, hop in the shower and then meet my grandfather in the lobby for breakfast. Usually waffles and bacon. Sometimes bagels, donuts, or eggs and sausages. Always cappuccino.
On Sunday (after only some four hours of sleep) my mother, Lena, and I met with a wedding planner about dresses -- dropping Aaron off at the nearby mall so he wouldn't peek. Unfortunately we didn't realize the nearby mall was essentially a Macy's and a food court, so he got bored and wandered over as I emerged from the dressing room. Don't worry, I wasn't in the gown I'll be walking down the aisle in.
I did not realize before this experience that you actually require another human being to get in and out of wedding dresses. It's a task that's pretty much impossible by yourself. Thankfully I'm not bashful, so getting nude eight times in front of some stranger wasn't a big deal.
The method used to get in to one of these huge dresses (that weigh on average ten or so pounds a piece) is referred to as "The Dive." Basically the bride-to-be puts her arms up over her head while her bridal assistant holds the dress up. Then the bride-to-be bends forward as if she were about to dive into a pool, and the bridal assistant tosses the dress over the bride-to-be's head. Then the bride-to-be stands back upright and the bridal assistant fastens the gown up behind her.
The way you get out of one of these dresses is called "The Shimmy." Here the bridal assistant unfastens the gown and gently tugs the fabric down while the bride-to-be wiggles and shimmies out of it. Much easier, but challenging in heels as you don't want to tear the dress in your attempt to escape it and while in the dress you cannot get to your feet to take the heels off.
I tried on about seven or eight dresses total. Mostly dresses chosen by my mother and Lena, a couple chosen by my assistant because she just wanted to see me in them. I prefer traditional to contemporary, so I didn't see the dress there, but I discovered my dress size and got ideas that I can take to a tailor for custom work. Which made it a valuable experience.
We also had Lena try on several bride's maids dresses. Since all of my bride's maids are about her size/hair color/complexion, she made a fantastic model. We decided my bride's maids will be in red dresses and the maid of honor will wear black. After a lot of searching we found a breezy dress that falls just below the knee with a little belt. No sashes around the middle, as sashes are for fat chicks to hide that they're fat and all of my bride's maids are slim, and no fabric bunching around the middle for the same reason. The dress is form-complimenting and classy. You could really wear it again, which is nice.
That color scheme will carry over to the groomsmen and such -- because matching is important. Too many Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat weddings these days. Not to sound rude or anything, but it doesn't matter what so-and-so's favorite or least favorite color is. It's your wedding. They're obligated to wear whatever the #*$^ you tell them to. You don't need to compromise with anyone except your fiance. Too many people forget that trying to people please. But I digress...
After the bridal shop we went back over to the tiny mall we had originally left Aaron at and hit the food court for lunch. Then it was off to my mother's house, where Aaron would meet my mother's husband Brook for the first time. Seeing how people react to Brook is always an interesting thing, because it's like walking into a house owned by a cartoon character. Fred Flintstone or something, though instead of dinosaurs the house is full of dogs. Four unruly dogs who are encouraged to be as loud as they please.
Monday we had a BBQ at my mother's house with the family. I spent the afternoon hanging out with my nephews. We introduced them to a toad in the pool, played T-ball like bosses, and ate a lot of cake. Aaron helped get the meal ready, which was a nice change of pace for my mother. Who is usually left to tend the kitchen by herself because I cannot cook, and Brook is about as helpful as a rock.
The highlight of the day was how we procured the toad for the pool. You'd think it only takes one person to procure a toad, but this was not the case.
There is a pile of logs for the chiminea out in the far end of the yard where wildlife always hangs out. Deer, birds, groundhogs, skunks, toads, frogs, snakes, you name it. So I wander back there looking for a toad, because if there would be a toad anywhere, that would be the spot.
My search was, however, not fruitful. It was a muggy 104 degrees in Ohio that day and most wildlife was taking refuge from the heat. In the case of toads that means they're underground. Just as I'm about to give up the quest, there's movement in the grass. Right where my foot is headed! I step down toe-first and try to balance on just the ball of my foot -- but having not planned to do such a thing I'm steadily pressing back towards my heel. Losing my balance. I'm not going to fall, mind you, but whatever has moved in the grass has put itself into the back of my sandal. If I step down fully, I'll squish whatever it is! Both gross and tragic.
Lucky for everyone Aaron was right there to grab my arm and keep me steady. Tragedy averted. I take my foot carefully out of my sandal and realize the toad had found us. I scoop him up and introduce him to little Bill and Jaidar. When he hops out of my hand into their pool (not chlorinated) and starts swimming around, they squeal in glee. I explain to them how toads are our friends and eat mosquitoes and other bugs we don't like having around. Basically that they should be nice to them. After a while I tell them he's got to go back to his toad house and re-release him into the wood pile from whence he came. They ask me if he has a toad family. I say yes. Jaidar decides it's good I took the toad home, because his kids was probably hungry for dinner.
Tuesday we went to the Cleveland Zoo with Lena. It was a sunny 97 degrees, which meant sun screen for all. Except Lena, whose *gypsy skin would protect her from the harmful rays. Though mercilessly humid and hot, we had a magnificent time. We saw the sea lions perform and a couple of black bears fight. We saw a leopard try to cough up a hairball (terrifying a nearby woman), and baby rhinoceros. Amongst many, many other things.
*Gypsy skin should never be relied upon.
The funniest part of our visit actually stemmed from the tram ride down the great hill that houses the primates and aquarium. While waiting for the tram to arrive, Aaron bought me a slushie. Blue raspberry, naturally. It was delicious. It was so hot that by the time the tram came for us, it was almost gone. So while seated on the tram, waiting for it to move, I decide to polish off the rest of it. Mostly so that I don't have to keep carrying it around. The people ahead of us have a little girl who keeps asking me where her penny is. Like I pick pocketed it or something. By this point there's not even any slushie left. I've just got the straw in my mouth, clamped in place between my teeth so I'm not expect to talk to the people ahead of us.
Now, granted, there is a "No drinking or eating on the tram," sign posted in the cars -- we hadn't even moved yet while I was actually drinking, and by the point where we're doing less than 1 mph on a completely smooth road, I'm just biting the straw. Nonetheless the tram driver is looking at me in his review mirror rather than the road ahead of him (because that's putting safety first) and announces over the intercom not to drink on the tram. So I lower the cup and just hold it in my lap for the remainder of the tram ride down. Going a dangerous 3mph.
At the bottom of the incline, once the tram comes to a full stop and we exit the vehicle, the tram driver approaches us and begins chastising me about drinking on the tram! Claiming he had to tell me more than twice to cut it out and about how painful it is to be poked by a straw. At first none of us know what the hell he is ranting about, so we kind of just wander off. Even so, he continues talking after us like I'm some kind of juvenile delinquent. I'm assuming my looking underage has sparked this, because no grown adult would dare talk to another grown adult in that way.
I only wish we had realized what was going on sooner so that I could've made him feel like the ass he is. By declaring I am both a competent adult AND deaf. Therefor asking me to do anything over an intercom is pretty useless. Even though he did only tell me once, not multiple times like he apparently imagined. His crappy dead-end job must have just really gotten to him by the bottom of that incline.
I can't complain about it too much though as it did not ruin our adventure at the zoo like he was probably hoping it would, but instead provided us hours of amusement. Even now, whenever I do something risque or borderline against some rule or another, we all joke about how 'that guy' is just going to appear to chastise me about it. roffle-mao.
Doo doo dododo.
I had both freeze dried icecream for the first time as well as Panera Bread that day. Mmm... Panera Bread...
That night was my party at The Liz. Most of my friends no longer live in Ohio or have too many kids to go to the bar, so the turnout was modest. Between some silly drama and people without transportation it was even more modest than it otherwise would have been, half the turnout sitting in another room. But we had fun. 40 cent wings and booze for all!
Wednesday I had an appointment at Rejuvenate Spa. Not much exciting to talk about a spa visit, but that night Aaron prepared artichoke heart lasagna for us all, dazzling everyone with his culinary expertise. Afterward we went to see a movie. Thor. Pretty good, though the romance seemed premature and thus awkward.
Thursday we were supposed to meet with not only my grandfather but also my mother for breakfast at the hotel. Even though it was her idea, my mother was late, and then later canceled. Being a slow poke. Instead the three of us ate, returned to our suites to pack, and then hit the road for Michigan.
Upon our arrival we met up with my cousin Dean and waited an hour or more for my mother to arrive. Then we also met up with my sister Holly and my niece Riley for Coney dogs. So, so delicious. Afterward we returned to Dean's house (where we'd be staying) for drinks with my uncle Paul. But mostly Aaron and I just played with Riley on the tire swing and taught her how to draw. Dean made excellent Mexican food.
Friday we went to downtown Wyandotte. One of my favorite places in all the world. Originally my mother had convinced us that it was only ten dollars per person to get into Greenfield Village, so we were going to go there, and even did. Only to realize it was actually almost thirty-five dollars per person to get into Greenfield Village. So we called to be picked back up, four minutes after having arrived, and instead went downtown. Which, in my opinion, was better anyhow.
There we walked along the pier of the river, toured Bishop Park (where my sister Holly and I as kids had buried a piece of coal hoping it would one day become a diamond), and strolled the shop-lined streets. We met up with Holly and Riley again after stopping for icecream at Stroh's and headed to the Wyandotte totem pole. There, there is also a fountain.
Back in the day, this fountain collected about a foot of water and the founts stuck up like steel poles about a foot above the water's surface. This made it terribly dangerous to play in, looking back. But that never stopped us. There were even signs telling you not to get in the fountain. Those never stopped us either. As soon as we'd see the police car pull into the lot of the nearby Big Boy's, we'd just run off.
These days the fountain is a much friendlier place. They removed the bowl, so the water no longer pools, and they covered the founts with brick so that you were less likely to trip over them or impale yourself on one if you slipped and fell. There are even signs encouraging you to play in the fountain now, albeit at your own risk. So of course, that's exactly what we did.
It's chilly on the water front, and easy to forgot how hot it is elsewhere, and how sunny it is. In other words, while having a grand ol' time in the fountain: Aaron and I both wound up sunburned. In funny places. Aaron on just his forearms with a bright white watch band where his watch shielded him. Me on my chest and arms, but the cut of my sundress left a funny white V on my collarbone.
We had a great time though, so it was totally worth it.
That evening Aaron and I bought pizza for everyone from some little Italian place my grandpa loves. While waiting, we played pinball with my grandpa. Once we had our fill of pizza, we had German chocolate cake with Caulder's vanilla icecream to celebrate my mother's birthday. We tried to watch The Fly, which everyone was claiming would be on that night, but it never did air. So we went to bed Vincent Priceless.
Saturday we were to go to my uncle Paul's house with my mother and my grandfather. But my mother wasn't ready yet... so we went with my grandfather to my uncle's house and my mother went to see her friend Barb and would meet up with us afterward. Much to my amusement, The Fly came on right as we were leaving. Wouldn't you know it?
My uncle Paul is like some animal whisperer. He's got birds, squirrels and even a duck that all eat from his hand. Wild animals. Some of which shouldn't even be there. Why is there a mallard family living in his yard? There's no reasonable body of water nearby. They have to fly about a mile to the river. Yet there they are, momma duck sitting on eleven eggs right under his gas meter.
We were hoping they'd hatch, since they were well overdue to do so, but they didn't while we were there. I actually got news yesterday that they finally did so, and now my uncle has ducklings running all over his lawn. That's got to be adorable.
My mom arrives an hour past go time (which I called) and then we begin our journey back to Ohio. No king suite this time. We'd be staying in my old bedroom at my mom's house. In my tiny twin bed. With Neelix. On our way back though, we stopped at the Beef Jerky Emporium. The kind of place you could probably only find in Michigan. There we bought all manner of succulent beef jerky. Garlic, peppered, honeyed... It made a great travel snack both in the car and on the plane the following day.
We arrived in Ohio around dinner time, so we grabbed a bite to eat at the Fun Buffet. It used to be a Perkins, now it's a Chinese buffet. A surprisingly good one with a large selection. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that most ethnic food is better in California than it is in Ohio. If you can even find it in Ohio. Probably because California isn't 95% white people. :P
We didn't have much time for anything once we made it to my mother's house since we had to be up at 3:00 AM to catch our flight back home. Lena stopped by for a bit, but then it was all business. Packing and collecting odds and ends from my old room that I'd like to have in California. We didn't wind up in bed until after midnight. While Aaron and Neelix had no difficulty sleeping, I didn't catch a wink. There just wasn't enough room in the bed for all of us. I basically laid there until the alarm clock went off. Then I got up like some kind of zombie and got ready.
Since I'm deaf, I can get people gate passes to accompany me to my gate so long as I'm otherwise unaccompanied. So Aaron and I checked in separately, so my mom could hang out with us for a little while longer at the airport. Check in didn't go smoothly for me though. I had Neelix with me, all 22 lb. of him in a plastic carrier. He was over the weight limit to be brought on as a carry-on, so he needed to be checked. The guy behind the counter looked at the carrier several times, and it was on the weight scale the entire check in procedure. We even told him he needed to be checked when we got there.
Right from the beginning I knew it was going to be ridiculous when he claimed there was no pet record attached to my flight information. We had talked extensively with the airline about Neelix's travel plans several times. So for there to be no record of this on file was a little irritating. Thankfully the guy would still let him board.
He wouldn't however fill out the correct paperwork about it. Rather than the checked luggage/live animal forms, he filled out the carry on/live animal forms. Then said, "Just try to carry him on, if he won't fit they'll check him at the gate." Which sounded to me like bullshit, since it's a live animal and required all manner of paperwork to even get on the plane. I seriously doubted they'd just simply check him at the gate under any circumstance.
When I vocalized my doubt, the guy looks again at the carrier and says, "That can't go on the plane. Its gotta be a soft shell!" Like suddenly Neelix would not be able to travel at all. We knew better however, having talked to the airline directly about the cat and his weight and being told explicitly how to proceed. The vet records, check-up ten days before the scheduled departure, exact measurements of the HARD shelled carrier. All of it. So once again we tell him that he's got to be checked because of his weight and size.
The guy is clearly frustrated at us, even though it's his own fault, and goes about filling out the right paperwork this time. This means he has to completely void the last transaction, including the fee to check my other unrelated baggage. Finally, we're ready to proceed.
Neelix and his carrier have to be thoroughly inspected before he can get on the plane, so they make us remove him from his carrier right there in the middle of the busy airport. Neelix is a laid back cat, luckily, so he kind of just stands there looking around wide-eyed. I imagine if he were any other cat he probably would have tried to bolt, and then there'd be a wild cat chase through the airport.
At last we're underway. We eat breakfast with my mom at our gate and then board the plane. Though we left at 6:00 AM EST, we arrive in Sacramento at 11:00 AM PST, thanks again to the time change. So by the time we touch down in California, it's still morning, but we're exhausted.
Neelix is waiting for us at the luggage claim, but one of our bags is missing. Aaron loads the remainder of our luggage and Neelix on to a cart so that I'm able to move it all myself, and then goes in search of our car while I deal with the airline about the missing bag. The car has been camped in airport parking the entire week, though we can't remember if it was in D lot or C lot. Or maybe E lot...
Everyone keeps commenting on my dog. I have to tell everyone that Neelix is a cat.
I file a claim about the bags, answer all manner of question to prove the bag is mine (even though I've got ID and my name is on the tag the airline put on there) and then they take down our address so that they can deliver the bag once it gets to the state. They didn't tell me which state it got left behind in, but something tells me it never left Cleveland.
We finally get home only to run out of energy by 1:00 PM our time. We sleep until around 11:45 PM, when the airline delivery guy wakes me up trying to find our place. I give him directions and go outside to meet him. Bag is accounted for, with all belongings safely in tact. Hurray! I then immediately go right back to bed.
We wake up for about an hour or so at 2:00 AM, but go back to bed in hopes of rising at a more decent hour. 6:30 AM will have to do. It was definitely easier to adjust to EST than it was to readjust to PST.
Neelix loves our place. He's claimed the lazy boy as his own, and enjoys the balcony. He even uses the enclosed litter box without a fuss which is something he would not do at my mother's house. While Intruder wasn't thrilled with his arrival, she's slowly but surely getting over it. They haven't had any spats or anything, Intruder just hisses and he leaves her be. Neelix is too chill to cause any true conflict.
The plants were fine for the week unattended, as was the snail, which is good to know. In a few weeks we'll probably head South to visit Eileen. I imagine that Neelix and Intruder will do a good deal of bonding in our absence.
Warning: Long entry is long.
Even though we left California at 9:00 AM we didn't arrive in Ohio until about 11:30 PM, thanks to the time change. This meant that the extent of our meet and greet was congregate at baggage claim, drive to hotel, and then everyone was tired except for the two of us. While my family left and went to bed, Aaron and I stayed up until about 3:00 AM EST (12:00 AM PST) watching Cartoons.
To swiftly acclimate to the time change we got up at 8:00 AM EST (5:00 AM PST). We were dog-tired, but we made the complimentary continental breakfast on time! Every day in fact. We'd wake up at around 8:00 AM, hop in the shower and then meet my grandfather in the lobby for breakfast. Usually waffles and bacon. Sometimes bagels, donuts, or eggs and sausages. Always cappuccino.
On Sunday (after only some four hours of sleep) my mother, Lena, and I met with a wedding planner about dresses -- dropping Aaron off at the nearby mall so he wouldn't peek. Unfortunately we didn't realize the nearby mall was essentially a Macy's and a food court, so he got bored and wandered over as I emerged from the dressing room. Don't worry, I wasn't in the gown I'll be walking down the aisle in.
I did not realize before this experience that you actually require another human being to get in and out of wedding dresses. It's a task that's pretty much impossible by yourself. Thankfully I'm not bashful, so getting nude eight times in front of some stranger wasn't a big deal.
The method used to get in to one of these huge dresses (that weigh on average ten or so pounds a piece) is referred to as "The Dive." Basically the bride-to-be puts her arms up over her head while her bridal assistant holds the dress up. Then the bride-to-be bends forward as if she were about to dive into a pool, and the bridal assistant tosses the dress over the bride-to-be's head. Then the bride-to-be stands back upright and the bridal assistant fastens the gown up behind her.
The way you get out of one of these dresses is called "The Shimmy." Here the bridal assistant unfastens the gown and gently tugs the fabric down while the bride-to-be wiggles and shimmies out of it. Much easier, but challenging in heels as you don't want to tear the dress in your attempt to escape it and while in the dress you cannot get to your feet to take the heels off.
I tried on about seven or eight dresses total. Mostly dresses chosen by my mother and Lena, a couple chosen by my assistant because she just wanted to see me in them. I prefer traditional to contemporary, so I didn't see the dress there, but I discovered my dress size and got ideas that I can take to a tailor for custom work. Which made it a valuable experience.
We also had Lena try on several bride's maids dresses. Since all of my bride's maids are about her size/hair color/complexion, she made a fantastic model. We decided my bride's maids will be in red dresses and the maid of honor will wear black. After a lot of searching we found a breezy dress that falls just below the knee with a little belt. No sashes around the middle, as sashes are for fat chicks to hide that they're fat and all of my bride's maids are slim, and no fabric bunching around the middle for the same reason. The dress is form-complimenting and classy. You could really wear it again, which is nice.
That color scheme will carry over to the groomsmen and such -- because matching is important. Too many Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat weddings these days. Not to sound rude or anything, but it doesn't matter what so-and-so's favorite or least favorite color is. It's your wedding. They're obligated to wear whatever the #*$^ you tell them to. You don't need to compromise with anyone except your fiance. Too many people forget that trying to people please. But I digress...
After the bridal shop we went back over to the tiny mall we had originally left Aaron at and hit the food court for lunch. Then it was off to my mother's house, where Aaron would meet my mother's husband Brook for the first time. Seeing how people react to Brook is always an interesting thing, because it's like walking into a house owned by a cartoon character. Fred Flintstone or something, though instead of dinosaurs the house is full of dogs. Four unruly dogs who are encouraged to be as loud as they please.
Monday we had a BBQ at my mother's house with the family. I spent the afternoon hanging out with my nephews. We introduced them to a toad in the pool, played T-ball like bosses, and ate a lot of cake. Aaron helped get the meal ready, which was a nice change of pace for my mother. Who is usually left to tend the kitchen by herself because I cannot cook, and Brook is about as helpful as a rock.
The highlight of the day was how we procured the toad for the pool. You'd think it only takes one person to procure a toad, but this was not the case.
There is a pile of logs for the chiminea out in the far end of the yard where wildlife always hangs out. Deer, birds, groundhogs, skunks, toads, frogs, snakes, you name it. So I wander back there looking for a toad, because if there would be a toad anywhere, that would be the spot.
My search was, however, not fruitful. It was a muggy 104 degrees in Ohio that day and most wildlife was taking refuge from the heat. In the case of toads that means they're underground. Just as I'm about to give up the quest, there's movement in the grass. Right where my foot is headed! I step down toe-first and try to balance on just the ball of my foot -- but having not planned to do such a thing I'm steadily pressing back towards my heel. Losing my balance. I'm not going to fall, mind you, but whatever has moved in the grass has put itself into the back of my sandal. If I step down fully, I'll squish whatever it is! Both gross and tragic.
Lucky for everyone Aaron was right there to grab my arm and keep me steady. Tragedy averted. I take my foot carefully out of my sandal and realize the toad had found us. I scoop him up and introduce him to little Bill and Jaidar. When he hops out of my hand into their pool (not chlorinated) and starts swimming around, they squeal in glee. I explain to them how toads are our friends and eat mosquitoes and other bugs we don't like having around. Basically that they should be nice to them. After a while I tell them he's got to go back to his toad house and re-release him into the wood pile from whence he came. They ask me if he has a toad family. I say yes. Jaidar decides it's good I took the toad home, because his kids was probably hungry for dinner.
Tuesday we went to the Cleveland Zoo with Lena. It was a sunny 97 degrees, which meant sun screen for all. Except Lena, whose *gypsy skin would protect her from the harmful rays. Though mercilessly humid and hot, we had a magnificent time. We saw the sea lions perform and a couple of black bears fight. We saw a leopard try to cough up a hairball (terrifying a nearby woman), and baby rhinoceros. Amongst many, many other things.
*Gypsy skin should never be relied upon.
The funniest part of our visit actually stemmed from the tram ride down the great hill that houses the primates and aquarium. While waiting for the tram to arrive, Aaron bought me a slushie. Blue raspberry, naturally. It was delicious. It was so hot that by the time the tram came for us, it was almost gone. So while seated on the tram, waiting for it to move, I decide to polish off the rest of it. Mostly so that I don't have to keep carrying it around. The people ahead of us have a little girl who keeps asking me where her penny is. Like I pick pocketed it or something. By this point there's not even any slushie left. I've just got the straw in my mouth, clamped in place between my teeth so I'm not expect to talk to the people ahead of us.
Now, granted, there is a "No drinking or eating on the tram," sign posted in the cars -- we hadn't even moved yet while I was actually drinking, and by the point where we're doing less than 1 mph on a completely smooth road, I'm just biting the straw. Nonetheless the tram driver is looking at me in his review mirror rather than the road ahead of him (because that's putting safety first) and announces over the intercom not to drink on the tram. So I lower the cup and just hold it in my lap for the remainder of the tram ride down. Going a dangerous 3mph.
At the bottom of the incline, once the tram comes to a full stop and we exit the vehicle, the tram driver approaches us and begins chastising me about drinking on the tram! Claiming he had to tell me more than twice to cut it out and about how painful it is to be poked by a straw. At first none of us know what the hell he is ranting about, so we kind of just wander off. Even so, he continues talking after us like I'm some kind of juvenile delinquent. I'm assuming my looking underage has sparked this, because no grown adult would dare talk to another grown adult in that way.
I only wish we had realized what was going on sooner so that I could've made him feel like the ass he is. By declaring I am both a competent adult AND deaf. Therefor asking me to do anything over an intercom is pretty useless. Even though he did only tell me once, not multiple times like he apparently imagined. His crappy dead-end job must have just really gotten to him by the bottom of that incline.
I can't complain about it too much though as it did not ruin our adventure at the zoo like he was probably hoping it would, but instead provided us hours of amusement. Even now, whenever I do something risque or borderline against some rule or another, we all joke about how 'that guy' is just going to appear to chastise me about it. roffle-mao.
Doo doo dododo.
I had both freeze dried icecream for the first time as well as Panera Bread that day. Mmm... Panera Bread...
That night was my party at The Liz. Most of my friends no longer live in Ohio or have too many kids to go to the bar, so the turnout was modest. Between some silly drama and people without transportation it was even more modest than it otherwise would have been, half the turnout sitting in another room. But we had fun. 40 cent wings and booze for all!
Wednesday I had an appointment at Rejuvenate Spa. Not much exciting to talk about a spa visit, but that night Aaron prepared artichoke heart lasagna for us all, dazzling everyone with his culinary expertise. Afterward we went to see a movie. Thor. Pretty good, though the romance seemed premature and thus awkward.
Thursday we were supposed to meet with not only my grandfather but also my mother for breakfast at the hotel. Even though it was her idea, my mother was late, and then later canceled. Being a slow poke. Instead the three of us ate, returned to our suites to pack, and then hit the road for Michigan.
Upon our arrival we met up with my cousin Dean and waited an hour or more for my mother to arrive. Then we also met up with my sister Holly and my niece Riley for Coney dogs. So, so delicious. Afterward we returned to Dean's house (where we'd be staying) for drinks with my uncle Paul. But mostly Aaron and I just played with Riley on the tire swing and taught her how to draw. Dean made excellent Mexican food.
Friday we went to downtown Wyandotte. One of my favorite places in all the world. Originally my mother had convinced us that it was only ten dollars per person to get into Greenfield Village, so we were going to go there, and even did. Only to realize it was actually almost thirty-five dollars per person to get into Greenfield Village. So we called to be picked back up, four minutes after having arrived, and instead went downtown. Which, in my opinion, was better anyhow.
There we walked along the pier of the river, toured Bishop Park (where my sister Holly and I as kids had buried a piece of coal hoping it would one day become a diamond), and strolled the shop-lined streets. We met up with Holly and Riley again after stopping for icecream at Stroh's and headed to the Wyandotte totem pole. There, there is also a fountain.
Back in the day, this fountain collected about a foot of water and the founts stuck up like steel poles about a foot above the water's surface. This made it terribly dangerous to play in, looking back. But that never stopped us. There were even signs telling you not to get in the fountain. Those never stopped us either. As soon as we'd see the police car pull into the lot of the nearby Big Boy's, we'd just run off.
These days the fountain is a much friendlier place. They removed the bowl, so the water no longer pools, and they covered the founts with brick so that you were less likely to trip over them or impale yourself on one if you slipped and fell. There are even signs encouraging you to play in the fountain now, albeit at your own risk. So of course, that's exactly what we did.
It's chilly on the water front, and easy to forgot how hot it is elsewhere, and how sunny it is. In other words, while having a grand ol' time in the fountain: Aaron and I both wound up sunburned. In funny places. Aaron on just his forearms with a bright white watch band where his watch shielded him. Me on my chest and arms, but the cut of my sundress left a funny white V on my collarbone.
We had a great time though, so it was totally worth it.
That evening Aaron and I bought pizza for everyone from some little Italian place my grandpa loves. While waiting, we played pinball with my grandpa. Once we had our fill of pizza, we had German chocolate cake with Caulder's vanilla icecream to celebrate my mother's birthday. We tried to watch The Fly, which everyone was claiming would be on that night, but it never did air. So we went to bed Vincent Priceless.
Saturday we were to go to my uncle Paul's house with my mother and my grandfather. But my mother wasn't ready yet... so we went with my grandfather to my uncle's house and my mother went to see her friend Barb and would meet up with us afterward. Much to my amusement, The Fly came on right as we were leaving. Wouldn't you know it?
My uncle Paul is like some animal whisperer. He's got birds, squirrels and even a duck that all eat from his hand. Wild animals. Some of which shouldn't even be there. Why is there a mallard family living in his yard? There's no reasonable body of water nearby. They have to fly about a mile to the river. Yet there they are, momma duck sitting on eleven eggs right under his gas meter.
We were hoping they'd hatch, since they were well overdue to do so, but they didn't while we were there. I actually got news yesterday that they finally did so, and now my uncle has ducklings running all over his lawn. That's got to be adorable.
My mom arrives an hour past go time (which I called) and then we begin our journey back to Ohio. No king suite this time. We'd be staying in my old bedroom at my mom's house. In my tiny twin bed. With Neelix. On our way back though, we stopped at the Beef Jerky Emporium. The kind of place you could probably only find in Michigan. There we bought all manner of succulent beef jerky. Garlic, peppered, honeyed... It made a great travel snack both in the car and on the plane the following day.
We arrived in Ohio around dinner time, so we grabbed a bite to eat at the Fun Buffet. It used to be a Perkins, now it's a Chinese buffet. A surprisingly good one with a large selection. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that most ethnic food is better in California than it is in Ohio. If you can even find it in Ohio. Probably because California isn't 95% white people. :P
We didn't have much time for anything once we made it to my mother's house since we had to be up at 3:00 AM to catch our flight back home. Lena stopped by for a bit, but then it was all business. Packing and collecting odds and ends from my old room that I'd like to have in California. We didn't wind up in bed until after midnight. While Aaron and Neelix had no difficulty sleeping, I didn't catch a wink. There just wasn't enough room in the bed for all of us. I basically laid there until the alarm clock went off. Then I got up like some kind of zombie and got ready.
Since I'm deaf, I can get people gate passes to accompany me to my gate so long as I'm otherwise unaccompanied. So Aaron and I checked in separately, so my mom could hang out with us for a little while longer at the airport. Check in didn't go smoothly for me though. I had Neelix with me, all 22 lb. of him in a plastic carrier. He was over the weight limit to be brought on as a carry-on, so he needed to be checked. The guy behind the counter looked at the carrier several times, and it was on the weight scale the entire check in procedure. We even told him he needed to be checked when we got there.
Right from the beginning I knew it was going to be ridiculous when he claimed there was no pet record attached to my flight information. We had talked extensively with the airline about Neelix's travel plans several times. So for there to be no record of this on file was a little irritating. Thankfully the guy would still let him board.
He wouldn't however fill out the correct paperwork about it. Rather than the checked luggage/live animal forms, he filled out the carry on/live animal forms. Then said, "Just try to carry him on, if he won't fit they'll check him at the gate." Which sounded to me like bullshit, since it's a live animal and required all manner of paperwork to even get on the plane. I seriously doubted they'd just simply check him at the gate under any circumstance.
When I vocalized my doubt, the guy looks again at the carrier and says, "That can't go on the plane. Its gotta be a soft shell!" Like suddenly Neelix would not be able to travel at all. We knew better however, having talked to the airline directly about the cat and his weight and being told explicitly how to proceed. The vet records, check-up ten days before the scheduled departure, exact measurements of the HARD shelled carrier. All of it. So once again we tell him that he's got to be checked because of his weight and size.
The guy is clearly frustrated at us, even though it's his own fault, and goes about filling out the right paperwork this time. This means he has to completely void the last transaction, including the fee to check my other unrelated baggage. Finally, we're ready to proceed.
Neelix and his carrier have to be thoroughly inspected before he can get on the plane, so they make us remove him from his carrier right there in the middle of the busy airport. Neelix is a laid back cat, luckily, so he kind of just stands there looking around wide-eyed. I imagine if he were any other cat he probably would have tried to bolt, and then there'd be a wild cat chase through the airport.
At last we're underway. We eat breakfast with my mom at our gate and then board the plane. Though we left at 6:00 AM EST, we arrive in Sacramento at 11:00 AM PST, thanks again to the time change. So by the time we touch down in California, it's still morning, but we're exhausted.
Neelix is waiting for us at the luggage claim, but one of our bags is missing. Aaron loads the remainder of our luggage and Neelix on to a cart so that I'm able to move it all myself, and then goes in search of our car while I deal with the airline about the missing bag. The car has been camped in airport parking the entire week, though we can't remember if it was in D lot or C lot. Or maybe E lot...
Everyone keeps commenting on my dog. I have to tell everyone that Neelix is a cat.
I file a claim about the bags, answer all manner of question to prove the bag is mine (even though I've got ID and my name is on the tag the airline put on there) and then they take down our address so that they can deliver the bag once it gets to the state. They didn't tell me which state it got left behind in, but something tells me it never left Cleveland.
We finally get home only to run out of energy by 1:00 PM our time. We sleep until around 11:45 PM, when the airline delivery guy wakes me up trying to find our place. I give him directions and go outside to meet him. Bag is accounted for, with all belongings safely in tact. Hurray! I then immediately go right back to bed.
We wake up for about an hour or so at 2:00 AM, but go back to bed in hopes of rising at a more decent hour. 6:30 AM will have to do. It was definitely easier to adjust to EST than it was to readjust to PST.
Neelix loves our place. He's claimed the lazy boy as his own, and enjoys the balcony. He even uses the enclosed litter box without a fuss which is something he would not do at my mother's house. While Intruder wasn't thrilled with his arrival, she's slowly but surely getting over it. They haven't had any spats or anything, Intruder just hisses and he leaves her be. Neelix is too chill to cause any true conflict.
The plants were fine for the week unattended, as was the snail, which is good to know. In a few weeks we'll probably head South to visit Eileen. I imagine that Neelix and Intruder will do a good deal of bonding in our absence.
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