i'm like the angel of death

The guy I run with hurt his calf during the Mud Run. It wasn't anything two beers didn't fix, until those beers wore off and he bent over only to have the minor ache turned up to eleven. He went to the doctor, who said it was a little tear in the muscle and that ibuprofen, ice and a wrap would be his best friends. The end. Three hundred dollars (billed to your insurance provider). Go home.

Three weeks later? He felt an unusual amount of pain, so he went back to have it checked out again. He's now in the hospital with a blood clot that started in his leg, but has now traveled to his lungs.

Sound familiar?

Christ.

1:20 PM

overheard last night

Female 1: They all think you're gay, you know.

Female 2: What's their problem? If I were gay, I'd totally fuck you 'cause you're so hot.

Female 1: Me, too! We're so hot! Fuck them.

[There were two girls and two guys, so drunk that they were yelling over each other to be heard (by all of us).]

Male 1: Dude, every time I go down on her she pees on my face.

Female 1: OMG! (She actually said, "OMG.") You said you wouldn't tell anyone!

Male 2: Dude, she pees on you? HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Female 1: Shut up! I warned him and he didn't stop!

Male 2: She peed on you? HAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!

Female 1: I'm going to buy a dildo and fuck you in the ass so you know what it feels like.

Male 1: You are not getting anywhere near my ass!

Male 2: She peed on you? HAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!

Female 1: I want you to know what it feels like.

Male 1: Well, you won't be getting any dildos anywhere near my ass.

Female 2: You should totally fuck him.

Male 2: She peed on you? HAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!

3:38 PM

week full of firsts

1. First time I was actually scared I might get the swine flu (H1N1 flu, whatever) from someone who may or may not have been diagnosed with the swine flu (H1N1 flu- I get it!). I've heard conflicting stories, but have been told that no one should be hanging out with this person- or his immediate family- ever again and not because he doesn't floss, but because he might kill you even three years from now. All I know for sure is that there is a flu involved and I don't have it.


2. First time I didn't call The Kitten "The Cat" when he woke me from a dead sleep by jumping on my chest, because 5:30 in the morning is Jumpy Play Time Yay.


3. First week of not smoking since The Cat died. Yes, I did quit, but that day was enough to send me back to the 7-11. I am weak! Stop judging! It could've been worse; I could've turned to heroin, craigslist "massages" or Jesus.


4. First time in the new place that a red rag got into the wash with the white rags and now I only own pink rags. (Dude, I live on the edge.) I don't think I've owned pink rags in at least a decade. Also, I like to say "rags."


5. First time since the Mud Run that I went back to running the hill.


6. First time I've almost died running a hill.


7. First time I've ever had an employee (now former employee- hey, she didn't show and didn't call so it's totally legit) not show up because they were in jail. This girl, this innocent little Japanese girl, who is as quiet as a mouse and very respectful, was trying to steal $250 worth of a something that belonged to a store that was not giving away free merchandise valued at $250. Instead of calling her parents, which, if I were greedy and self-centered enough to try to steal other peoples things I would not do either, spent five days in jail awaiting her hearing. Five days! I was looking forward to hearing stories of shanking and forced tattoos claiming she belonged to ______, but it turns out she was alone the entire time. Alone with no cell phone or internet access, which was her only complaint. And? That thing she couldn't live without is now going to cost her approximately $600 in fines and restitution, so not all Asians are good at math. I mean, that's like four times what the stupid camera would've cost her to begin with.


8. First bath/I Want You Dead moment for The Kitten:

 

Rags.

9:36 AM

SHUT UP!

Michael Jackson was only 50?

3:43 PM

late to the party

I haven't flown since November '08, so I've been living in the dark ages. This is quite lovely.

11:36 AM

don't you have anything else to talk about?

Kittens cats kittens. Seriously, get out of the house more.

I can say that I have a more tenable appreciation for six in the morning. A year ago, if you had said this would be happening, I would have told you to shut your whore mouth because nothing but lies are filling the crisp night air. If I wasn't up and hauling ass to get out of the house for a race or just going to bed, six in the morning and I didn't have much to say to each other. Now I'm up, and alert, and on the deck enjoying some coffee. If it weren't for my Life Partner/iPhone you would never believe me, but it's true. I am here, right now, not smoking and writing this as a testament to the world at large/3 people who read this site.

Smoking would be nice, though. I miss you, smoking.

6:06 AM

damn dirty apes

My entire house is covered in packing tape. It's the only thing I've found that keeps The Kitten off, well, everything. He tried eating a speaker last night. (!) A speaker that is now covered in tape (sticky side out). He's tried climbing my palm tree, as well as digging a tunnel to China through the bottom part of the sofa. He's already stripped every piece of material from the underside of my box spring; you'd expect to find a baby Jesus wrapped in all that swaddling cloth strewn around my bedroom. And? If I take off a sock and leave it unattended for even a split second, as in long enough to take off the other sock, he drags it under the bed like he's just saved the world.


I have to keep him locked in the bedroom while I'm at work, because Lord knows he'd set fire to the kitchen or at least throw my furniture off the deck. To divert his attention from my things, I've purchased every toy that every local pet store has to offer. My floors are covered in feathers, strings, fish, mice and monkeys. I now understand why my friend wanted me to have this meth baby; it leaves absolutely no time to think about The Cat in any way other than "God damn he was the best f'ing cat in the world and this might just be the worst."

 

 

7:37 AM

whore pits

Have you ever been in the shower and gone to wash your underarm (bareback/no washcloth) only to hear a sound that would seem to be coming from a seasoned porn star, on the verge of retirement after 29 banner years in the industry, who is doing her last gang bang flick, which is on such a tight budget there's no soundtrack and you hear all of the noises, kind of noise?

12:34 PM

what have i done?

The same friend who asked me to take in The Cat was the only person who knew about his death. I was calling her twenty times a day, asking for second and third- from her and the Vet at her hospital- opinions, so I had to tell her when she called on that Friday.

My friend called a few days later and said that there was a big whore of a cat who just had her third litter (apparently, the good people of the IE have never heard about spaying and neutering), but her Vet was no longer taking them in and they were off to the shelter. The IE shelters are over capacity, what with all of the foreclosures, and almost everything that walks in the door is put down due to financial limitations. Her Vet had taken in the last two litters, so I completely understand that she might want to stop enabling this crazy lady. My friend already has four dogs and three cats, only two of which she meant to keep, so there's no more room at the inn. Still, she pulled one of the kittens and decided it was perfect for me. Before we talked. Without asking me if I'd want a kitten. Not knowing if I liked kittens. Unsure if I ate kittens.

She completely blindsided me with the whole sob story, but knew I'd feel too bad to take him to the shelter and would eventually, probably, like him or at least not drown the poor thing.

So here we are; me and a kitten who is certainly mainlining crystal meth. He has an extra toe on each of his front paws, but they each have two nail beds with two little, separate, nails popping out. We will be touring with the freak show this fall- please support us. With all of the damage he's trying to inflict around the house, I'm going to need the money.

 

 

 

2:43 PM

that didn't go so well

It didn't look like The Cat had a very good Thursday afternoon, so I decided to stay home on Friday. But, by evening, he was drinking water on his own (although we were still doing SQ fluids BID) and looked like he felt a lot better. He hadn't eaten since Sunday, but he was acting like himself again; jumping on my lap, moving around the house, not just lurking in the washroom, and hitting up all of his favorite spots in which to nap. He got into bed that night, looking for belly scratches, so I thought we had turned a corner. No, he still wasn't eating, but 10 days was the mile marker and we were only at day 3. I thought the antibiotics were kicking in, as he was no longer restless and looked a lot happier.

On Friday, I tried to give him a little a/d, but he wasn't having any of that. Aside from not eating, he seemed to be getting much better. He followed me around the house while I cleaned up, wanted to lay on any part of me that stayed still for 30 seconds, and seemed like his old self. Only the day before I was really worried that we weren't going to get out of this one, but was now thinking we had it beat.

He was napping next to the sofa, one of his favorite spots, when I lay down to pet him. After about 2 minutes, he flinched and got up, but his hind legs were dragging. About 3 or 4 weeks earlier, I thought I saw him dragging his legs as he walked into the washroom, and he only goes in there alone when he's not feeling well. I freaked and followed him in, lifting him to see if he could stand on his own. He looked up at me like I was crazy, stood up and then lay back down. This time, he couldn't hold himself up. He didn't seem to be in any pain, but kept on trying to lift himself and had no control over his hind legs. I picked him up and he licked my face- seemed fine, but I knew we were probably dealing with a blood clot; diabetic cats seem to have this problem a lot. I called the Vet and said we were on our way. I brought him into the washroom with me as I brushed my teeth so that I could see everything he was doing. All of the sudden, he whipped around like his legs were now in pain, even though he still had no feeling, and started meowing. His breathing became labored and I started to panic.

We got to the Vet's in 5 minutes, but that was enough time for him to have serious problems breathing. I was sure he had fluid in his lungs and we might now be looking at congestive heart failure. The waiting room was packed, but they put me in an exam room right away. I picked him up out of the carrier and he still had no feeling in his hind legs. In holding him up, he was having an easier time breathing, but it was still labored. He looked right at me, like, "what's the plan?!" And this is where I start to lose my shit.

I used to work for a Vet (a looooong time ago) and my Vet knows this, so he's a little more blunt with me. We went into the back and he took a look at The Cat. He did have fluid in his lungs and the blood clot had paralyzed him from mid back down. I started asking for pain meds, because The Cat was in obvious pain, but he said that would only hurt him at this point. It was time to decide which path to follow: The Cat could stay in the hospital and be given lots of meds and oxygen, but that might only buy him 2 or 3 days. His heart was damaged and the chances of any kind of recovery was less than 3%. The Cat was abandoned at another hospital and lived there for about 6 months- he HATES the hospital and can't stand being confined for even short periods of time. Letting him spend his last days there was unthinkable. I asked, but there was nothing we could do to get him back home, so I didn't really have any choice. I felt like keeping him alive would be for my benefit, not his.

And the worst part? He's now panting, laying on his side, looking me right in the eyes. He's looking at me for answers and help and I know that I have to put him down. This is when I really lose my shit. I just kept petting his head and telling him it'd be OK, and then he was gone. It was better knowing he wasn't in pain, but I just couldn't believe this happened when it felt like he was on the road to recovery.

The Cat thought he was a dog, which is what made him so cool; I had never even liked cats until him. I went home with an empty carrier, but still saw him everywhere. I didn't leave the house until the Mud Run, but still hadn't told anyone what happened. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk about it without losing it and I can't stand to lose control (I'm a freak that way). It's now 10 days later and I've only told 1 person, because I'm not confident I will be able to answer questions. So, if you see me, please don't ask me about it or bring it up. I only wrote this because I've been getting e-mails wishing him well and that feels just as bad as writing this.

I kept second guessing the situation. Could I have done something differently? I googled the circumstances and found lots of stories, none of which ended very nicely. This one seemed to be most similar to my case, which made me feel like I did the right thing for our situation. (Not to say they didn't do the right thing. Not by any means.) Sometimes there's no good decision.


Best Cat Ever.
'94 ? - 6/5/09

 

 

 

 

6:37 PM

the others

You might not have taken my Five Point Method to heart, but let this be a lesson to you:





Then, just like any other event in which people are sweating and covered in mud, there are the people you just want to look at (for various reasons, not excluding laughter):




The end.

11:43 AM

technical

If the photographer had stuck with me, he'd have seen that climbing over a wall- that lands you in a heap of mud- is a five point procedure. Here are steps two and three:



I learned fairly quickly that you should land facing the wall and with one hand still holding on for dear life. There have been 500 people landing in that pile of mud before you showed up and it's hardly even or compact. To avoid a face plant, this method is choice.

P.S. I know some of you already question my fashion sense, but let me specify: that is not a brown sock, but a (formerly beige) wrap for my foot.

P.P.S. Clearly, big boobs are not required for this maneuver.

5:04 PM

mud run

I was dreading this year's mud run for a few reasons:

1) About two weeks ago, I hurt my foot when I was running on the street (it's the only big hill that's close). My knees prefer the asphalt over cement, so I run at the edge of the street. When a car comes, I hug the curb, but I know you're thinking, "Run on the f'ing sidewalk! Get out of my mother f'ing way!" Really? Were you going to ride up on the curb? Because that's how far over on this small, residential street you'd have to be in order for me to possibly be anywhere near in your way. A car came as I was passing the drainage grate and I stepped on the bump where the asphalt meets the cement (which is a great song from the 70's). I remember thinking how lucky I was that I didn't roll my ankle this close to a race and kept on running. About ten minutes later, the bottom of my foot started to hurt.



It was a dull pain; it felt more like I had stretched it out too much. I didn't think anything of it, but the next day it was a lot worse. Ice, ibuprofen, elevation and rest for eight days. The Tuesday before the run, I decided I needed to see how bad it really was by taking a quick run. That only made it worse and I was convinced my time for the Mud Run would be something hideous, like maybe 2.5 days. There was no way I was going to bail on the best event of the year, so I was prepared to take LOTS of ibuprofen, wrap it like none other and go from there.

2) The cat. I won't get into all of that right now, but I don't know when I've been so stressed. Freaked + stressed= unattractive combo.

3) I didn't feel as prepared as I've been in years past. I was playing tennis and running once or twice a week, but that only started in March. Before March? The Boot Camp Challenge in October. The first weekend of October. It was 2008 when the last step I took that was faster than a skip.

Sunday I woke up early, drove to San Clemente, filled up on a Red Bull, and then left for Camp Pendleton. We got off to a nice start- found our pace car early- and everything just kind of stopped. I didn't feel like I was running, as much as I was gliding through the course, completely void of any thoughts and feeling absolutely no pain in my foot. It was the first time in a week that I stopped thinking about The Cat, but was not conscience of that fact, which made it all the better. My running partner needed to stop a few times, but, surprisingly, I could've kept going. In the end, I did manage to beat my best time by four minutes, which was nice.

And this is where I threaten you with the promise of pictures.

And this is where I tell you that I don't know when that will be...

3:39 PM

read "the secret,"chant, pray; do whatever it is you do

The cat was home Monday night, but back in the hospital Wednesday morning. His glucose levels went from 125 on Friday to 60 on Monday, so the Vet thought that explained everything. By Tuesday evening, I realized he wasn't drinking, even though he was spending a lot of time with his face in the dish and completely faking me out. He also hadn't eaten since Sunday morning, so I took him back to the hospital. (They had said to give it two days, but he seemed to be getting worse and not better.)

He was now dehydrated and his glucose levels tested at 550. I hadn't given him any insulin since Sunday, but that made no sense. Blood tests, barium, x-rays, and much poking later, they told me that his BUN level was elevated, but not the creatinine. If both had been elevated it would typically indicate you're catching the kidneys after they've failed, so there aren't any options. Since he was so dehydrated, there was hope that his BUN was only temporarily out of range. He also, however, showed signs of a troubled pancreas, which is not good. Hallmark Movie Channel not good. Kidneys and pancreas? Bad Bad Bad. He was given subcutaneous fluids, antibiotics, GI pain meds and sent home.

I got about an hour of sleep- on the floor by the washroom- last night, what with the discomfort, moving around, semi-howls and general misery of the cat who won't leave the washroom. He's also decided that it's too much trouble to get into the litter box, so he sticks his head in and then pees outside. All over. And then kicks the litter with his front paws, which are only inside after he pees. (It would be uncivilized not to kick.) There were 300ml of fluids dying to get out, which led to cleaning the litter box room (I gave up a closet just to avoid seeing it, but now I'm bent over it mopping up urine) six times before 5 in the morning. Don't be jealous.

We went back to the hospital this morning for GI pain meds and to pick up fluids. It's cheaper for me to give the SQ fluids twice a day, along with the pain meds and antibiotics, rather than pay for office visits, boarding fees and for someone else to do something that's simple and takes 5 minutes. And the cheap way? It's still $50 per day. At home. Doing it my damn self. The only other option is to let his pancreas excrete nastiness that will eat away at his organs, so it wasn't really a tough call.

And what happens now? I'm thinking about sacrificing some virgins to someone who doesn't think blow jobs count, because I can locate like 15 of those girls in less than 15 minutes. Also, I have to know he's going to turn that pancreas around with the antibiotics and rest and ten days from now it'll just be funny that I slept on the floor.

3:45 PM

did i seem too comfortable?

(Thought this was published on Tuesday, but see that it wasn't. Had second thoughts about putting it up now, but here goes.)

My diabetic cat almost went into hypoglycemic shock Monday morning. He hadn't eaten the night before- so hugely rare for a cat that won't let me eat without sharing- and wasn't interested in breakfast. His color was normal and he didn't seem overtly lethargic, so I decided to skip his morning insulin injection and wait for 30 minutes to see if he'd eat some turkey. He really loves turkey.

Ten minutes later, he hacked up some bile that had a pinkish hue and, after being attacked by Karo syrup, was packed into the carrier and on his way to the Vet. $248 later, he's back home.

An abandoned cat when I took him in 12 or 13 (I'm old- can't remember) years ago, I really don't know how old he is, but the Vet guesses 15 to 18. I think of him as perpetually 13. I am not ready to make any life and death decisions, so he must be OK. What? My Aunt's cat lived to be 21. Rexie lived to be 22 and he had to live with my former landlord, so there was much stress involved. All my cat does is sleep, eat and TiVo talk shows, so 30 shouldn't be such a stretch.

12:04 PM

aww. hard day?

Being an Earthling can really suck sometimes.

2:20 PM

por ejemplo

There was a discussion regarding the classification of "oral sex," in relation to "penetrative sex," and even more discussion on teens and early twenty-somethings not only categorizing them as unrelated, but only filing one under "S." I don't believe that a boyfriend of tomorrow will think any woman more pure for being vaginally virtuous, while they have sucked more jock than the combined total of 42 Division 1 -drunk and on spring break- cheerleaders. (Not to insult Div 2 or mathletes, but I'm trying to generate a more realistic visual.)

While no gay men who indulged in oral sex, alone, were insulted that they might be considered virgins by the youth of today, they were in agreement that said youth will be lucky to make it into their 30s without herpes, as well as the STDs du jour.

What we could all agree on were the differences between straight sex and sex (they won't let me add "gay"- they're still pissed):

Straight men (sleeping with women- they said I should mention that, because of all the straight men they've had non-sex with) don't generally ask (in an "I'm so about to make your week!" way) "where do you want it?" right before they, well, you know.

7:14 PM

you should know

I like broccoli, rainbows and kittens, but not all in the same day.

2:30 PM

reenactment, 2 hours later

On my way back from playing tennis, I decided to stop at Costco for odds and ends. Walking around that enormous warehouse, I had no idea why I would go there or what I could've thought I needed and decided it wasn't worth walking the isles until I remembered. However, on my way out, I spotted something I couldn't live without. I also forgot to bring my bag, so I was walking out, my purchase gently cradled and covered with love, when I ran into a client. Here's a reenactment of what he saw:



When I sweat, my hair curls up into all kinds of crazy (it takes hours of practice for the white side to come out), so I can't imagine he was having good thoughts about our future relationship, what with the crazy and the bottle the size of a NYC studio apartment.

And later?



I didn't really care.

12:41 PM

overheard

Girl: Wear a speedo! You should wear a speedo!
Guy: I'm never wearing a speedo. No speedos.
Girl: Wear a speedo! Speedo!
Guy: I'd have to be waxed to wear one of those things.
Girl: You are waxed.
Guy: I mean from here to here.

(I'm dying to know where "here" and "here" are.)

10:06 PM

lots of rumbling and movement, but no breakage

We just had an earthquake* and all I could think was that they're going to find me buried in the rubble, wearing a white face mask and sweatpants, and just know they should start looking for a cat.

*The kind of quake that's akin to HS sex: lots fumbling and noises that remind you of a coal driven train, but in the end you're just embarrassed that you thought about getting up midway through to look for someplace safer.

8:50 PM

grateful i have none of my own, because this is close enough

One of the young kids who works for me accused me of having a "favorite." I really don't prefer one over the other, except that I do appreciate it when you're on time or at least SHOW UP. She tries to act like she's tough and doesn't care, but she's Lifetime Network Sensitive and I thought I'd better say something to make her feel better and hopefully stop the weeks worth of pouting I saw on the horizon.

"Are you serious? I don't have any favorites. I can barely tell you kids apart!"

9:20 PM

Q: How did the race go?

A: I was running a 4:01 minute mile, which is pretty much the fastest I’ve ever been timed, when, out of nowhere, a Bengal Tiger jumped over the 133 overpass and tried to take a chunk out of my left leg. I was able to poke him (female tigers aren't as mean, are they?) in the eyes with my keys and that bought me enough time to outrun him to the finish.

In the end, I beat out five Kenyans, because it turns out they're REALLY scared of tigers.

So, to answer your question, the race was a success. And today? I'm going to speak to you like everything is fine. We're going to go about our day like nothing has changed and that everything is completely normal, even though I'm wearing a band-aid on my face.

Yes, I'm aware that there's a band-aid on my face. Excuse my beauty.

11:03 AM

this time, i got a metal

I got back from a 5k around 9 this morning, only to find street closures due to a marathon. There's really nothing like still seeing people at the halfway mark -at 10:43- to make you feel like you should've at least signed up for the 10k and skipped the Cinco de Mayo beer garden. But, really, who else but runners make it feel normal to have a beer before most people are awake, while trying to act like we're doing this all to support pediatric cancer research? It's why we get along.

10:41 AM

the pigtails are just a bonus

What makes this the best video you will watch this week? :20, that's what.

4:26 PM

let's be honest

Since she decided to straighten her hair, I can't take Oprah seriously.

7:34 PM

in love, once again

Watching Grey Gardens made me forget that I hate Drew Barrymore movies. The best part? When the credits are rolling and you hear Little Edie say, "No animals were harmed in the making of this movie." I've got the accent DOWN. Well, just when saying that line, but, still, it's pretty good. Give me another week and I'll be able to quit my job.

4:08 PM

it's not like i asked you to get bangs

Why is it so hard to find people who will run with you?

Dear friends,

Fine. I'll see you out afterwards, but I won't shower, because I want you to suffer.

Truly suffer.

And I'm pretty sure I'll be ordering something that comes with an onion or something stuffed with stinky blue cheese, which I'll be waving around on my miniature magic wand, letting its aroma waft and dance in the already smelly air.

I don't let stuff go like balanced people.

7:09 PM

i have no metal, but one beautiful blister

Three of us ran the Carlsbad 5000 yesterday. Two of us had talked about walking part of it, mostly because we knew we couldn't run the whole 5k without plotting our own deaths. The other girl said she thought we'd both beat her, even if we crawled. And? Within one city block the "slow" one was already ahead of us and couldn't see us behind her. We saw her scanning the crowd, but she kept going and we laughed about seeing her an hour later.

One mile in, I looked next to me and there was a woman huffing away (she had a sausage breakfast burrito for breakfast), but it was no one I knew. I scanned the people behind me as I kept running, but saw no familiar faces. About two blocks after the turn-around I saw my "walking" partner, so I skipped back over to keep her company. I didn't think I'd be able to run the whole race, so why worry about time? Besides, I didn't want some crazy ass 45 minute 5k with my name on it floating around the Internet, so I wasn't wearing the tracker thingy.

After the water stop, we lost each other again. I knew that if I stopped running I'd be walking for a while, so I kept going. At the last turn-around I saw Speedy Gonzalez who was now walking. I decided that I was so close to the finish I should keep trying to run without losing a lung, which, at mile three, was dangling off my sweatpants and bobbing against my thigh with every stride.

I managed to finish the race AND three drinks at the beer garden afterwards. Winner!

5:08 PM

thank god i'm (aaaalmost) a non-smoker

Tomorrow, a pack of cigarettes in CA will cost you three dollars more than the four or five you paid today. A bump in the federal tax, combined with a higher state tax, will push pack prices above seven dollars. If they had the lung capacity, smokers would revolt.

I'm close to making it as a non-smoker, but damn those cocktails. And stressful situations. And Tuesdays.

I refuse to pay that much money for something that tasty bad for my health, besides wine and cocktails, of course. So... I'm done. After I smoke the packs I bought today during a frenzied tax sheltering episode at the Circle-K.

2:10 PM