Squeeky Squeekerson

Well, it's a virus. And get this, I have NO voice. None at all. Jeff says that I sound like a sweet, little girl, but says that I'm not one at all. I said I don't want to talk at all because I don't want to do permant damage to my vocal cords. Jeff says he hopes I do so I can have a sexy, raspy voice. It's love grand...

btw, I feel like Wheezy from Toystory....

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired...

So this year has been nothing but physical misery for me so far. I was sick with a cold going into the new year. During the month of January, I had multiple "female issues", which caused me pain, worry, and uncomfortableness. Finally all of that is through, done and over with, and January 28th comes, and I slide right down the steps of the apartment building. Aparently me telling them year after year that there is a huge ice build up on those steps, fell on deaf ears. I wish I would have just fallen and bounced around on my fat butt or whatever, but oh no... I held on... so my body went one way, while my right arm was still up the top. I swung around and pulled my left sciatica. Special.
I thought well.... can't get any worse.. or can it?
A few weeks go by, still battling this stupid cold that comes and goes a bit, but nothing to serious.
Que Sunday, February 22nd. I'm now doing laundry, and reach over to pick up a pair of pants from the laundry basket to put into the washer. And low and behold, what happens? Yes, you guessed it! I hear the faintest SNAP and my back goes completely out, worse than when I first hurt it. Awesome... So I missed three days off of work that week and found out I have to go to physical therapy. Great. Now I have to spend more money and try to figure out new ways of getting around and getting there. Terrific.
Que the following weekend. I feel like I'm starting to come down with yet ANOTHER cold. I pop all kinds of vitamin C and use the entire $12 box of Zicam like its nobodies business. For what? For nothing. Sunday night I sleep between 2-5am. Get up, fall back asleep between 7:30-8am. Way to go... Go to work Monday, feel like crap, but I'm ok. Wake up Tuesday. I can't talk, I'm coughing up large... things... things that remind me of that song, great green globs... yeah. It's awesome. So I'm off work yet AGAIN today. I'm going to the doctors to find out what kind of crap I now have, which I probably picked up there last week when I went.
Oh, this isnt to mention the appointment I have to go BACK to next week for my back.
I just need something possitive and good to happen. I know I can take alot... I know things good be worse... I'm just discouraged...

All Mixed Up, Don't Know What To Do...

rememeber that song? yeah... thats kinda how I feel right now. nothing in general, nothing that is just on my mind. just seems like everything... i kinda wanna scream.. i kinda want to cry.... :sighs: i just done know...

82 H Street

Know how there are just some places that will forever stay in your mind and in your memory? 82 H Street is one of those places for me. This was Jeff's apartment back when I first met him. It was in South Boston, and it was wicked tiny. I don't even think wehave any picutres of it, but I can describe it to you...
I think the house was yellow. And you went inside and they had a large, carpetted staircase, I think it was pink, I remember flowers too.. don't know if it was wall paper or what. Anyway, you go up to the second set of steps, these were wooden. You get to the third floor, and there is this THIN little walkway to the door. The walkway had boxes all lined up against the wall so you had to hug the railing, which always made me nervous. You walk into the apartment, and there is a small hallway, wall on the left, fridge, stove, all that stuff on the right. Wicked tiny. I'll never forget the little cup of grease I found! Don't know who was saving that, Jeff or his roommate. It was awful. then you go in a little more, there was a window a head of you, fridge to the right, microwave and stand, then the opening to the small living room/roommate's room. there was a couch when you first walked in, to the left, also, on the ground, next to the wall where HUNDREDS of bottle caps , the ones from beer bottles and other glass bottles. There was a beer bottle opener ON THE WALL. to the right was a picture window and a little table, maybe one chair with it. I'm telling you, this place was tiny. There was a door at the end of the couch that lead to Jeff's room. In there was hmmmm... I think his movies to the left...And then his bed was in there to the right, the bathroom to the left of his movies, and his computer and desk to the left of that. there was a little window in there too. I remember taking the BEST naps of my LIFE there! I also remember a few times when me and rope and poodle would go hang out and just fall asleep. That apartment was like a sleeping pill. I would go there and just fall asleep. I had always had issues sleeping, and still do today, but 82 H Street, well... I never slept better before or after that place.
It's amazing, to this day, I hear church bells, get a certain breeze, wake up in a specific mood, and boom, I'm transported straight back to that room. I miss 82 H Street... It was such a tiny, messy, little place, but It will forever be in my heart and mind...

It Takes All Kinds...

By that I am talking about those in my family. It takes all kinds to make a family. And I thank God for mine. I recently hurt my back this past weekend, and have not been able to move well. Feeling helpless, and useless, my husband has been just an amazing guy. He has totally taken care of everything for me without complaining. My sister also stepped up to the plate by taxing me around all day to the doctors, hospital, dropping off my medcine, picking UP my medicine and just hanging out with me and taking care of me. My parents have both called multiple times ana made sure that I was ok and assured me if I need anything, they are there for me.

I just love my family. It takes all kinds to make a family.. and I'm glad how mine is made!

Reading Rainbow

This past week I have finished two great books. One is called The Year Of Fog, by Michelle Richmond and The Reader by Bernhard Schlink.

The Year of Fog took me on the journey of a woman who was on the search of her soon to be step daughter, whom disappears off a beach, during her watch. It was a highly emotional book, and left me wanting more. You saw everything through the eyes of Abby, the main character. In a way, I didnt sympathize with her because I didnt understand how she could love a child almost more than the parent. I dont know if it was more guilt or true pure love...

The Reader was an incredible, quick read. It took you through the life of a 15 year old named Micheal who by chance meets this woman, Hannah, more than twice his age. Theirs is a strange, disconnected love story. One day, she disappears and Micheal sees her years later while she is on trial, for what? I'm not going to tell you. But, like someone made me promise, do NOT skip ahead to the last chapter... that would ruin everything.

On a complete side note, Mickey Rourke used to be a very good looking guy, (see the movie Spun)... what in the world happened to his face in the Wrestler???

Saturday Night Craptacular Time

I don't know what has been going on this past winter, but people have been getting SO sick. I myself am going onto bout number 5 of being sick this winter. Jeff had a head cold all last week, and today I woke up with sore throat, and as the day has progressed, I've gotten more of a headache, stuffy nose, achey, all that crap. It just seems like everyone I know is just falling apart with colds, flue, all that jazz.
Zicam, thanks for nothing...