I'm all out

...of Jason stories!

Tonight I started writing about myself.

...and we're back!

So, Memories is back. No e-mail letting me know, but I logged in today and no annoying message.

I posted a new story...

Jason

If you have been keeping up with my writing exercise, you know I've been writing about a boy named Jason.

I realized tonight as I was writing, that his stories are almost always somewhat depressing. Why I started with him, I'm not sure. His stories just called out to be told first. Hang in there, I have other stories in me too.

New Project

I have something new to show you. Something without pictures. Something ambitious and extremely personal. If it's so personal why am I sharing? As much as it contains personal experiences and emotions, I really would like some critique and opinions on my writing.

What is it? A new blog! I have started this blog as a writing exercise for myself. It contains memories. Memories turned into short snippets of stories. Most of these stories occur in less than a half hour time period of my past.

I am going to try to organize it in the following way: Postings will be labeled with the specific person that the memory is about. Right now I am focusing on a boy named Jason. So most postings, at least for a bit, will be about him. When I run out of things to say about Jason, or if the memories lead me to a new person, I will begin writing about them instead, and label appropriately.

Already I have had to cheat. It is very hard for me to remember. The times I'm concentrating on really play in my mind like a dream. Sequences skipping around, no direction, and often no connections. I just see flashes of certain scenes.

How did I cheat? The story I wrote today, Benadryl, is not really my memory. It's really my mom's. She's told the story, and I can imagine it happening. But I don't remember it. So, in that way I am cheating. I have written it as I imagine it happened.

I plan to keep my two blogs closely linked. Often I will post explanations here about stories that I write there. As I have just done with today's story.

I will also try not to expose anyone as I expose myself. I will change names when necessary and try to keep the stories to interesting events, not the mundane.

My honest hope for this project is to practice writing, gather critiques, retrieve some memories, and hopefully touch a few hearts.

Clothing Malfunction

Well, the other day at work I had quite an interesting experience. Ok, it's not that interesting...
I was talking to people that meet in the middle of our little room. They were having some type of meeting. Mostly I was working on my computer, but occasionally they would ask me something, and cause me to turn around in my chair.

One of these times I turn around to answer a question. My back itches weird. Not unusual, I scratched. Only to realize that my bra had unclasped. So I am sitting there trying to refasten it. Very unsuccessful. What the hell? I dressed myself in the morning, I know it hooks. I try another set of hooks, no go.

By now everyone is staring at me...

So anyway, I had to rush to the bathroom, take my shirt off and turn my bra around. Apparently one of the hooks had become bent and wouldn't hook anymore. So I bent it back and refastened. Came back to my desk to much applause for my clothing malfunction.

See, not very interesting. But I thought I would share this embarrassing story.

Majacraft

So I got my new wheel all set up! She is a beauty. I will have pictures to post later.

When it first arrived, I was so excited. You would think it was Christmas and I was 8:

I open the box and start pulling out pieces. Wheel, check, pedals, check...miscellaneous handle part, check.
I start putting the pieces together, because damn, I want to use it right away! I had just sold my Joy, so I was absent a wheel to spin on. The directions are pretty good, and I am doing OK with the assembly. That handle part, must be connected sometime...but there aren't any holes in it for screws...oh well.

So I continue, everything fits together like a dream. I get her almost completed, look ahead in the directions...and notice, no handle attaching. I look at the handle again, wtf!! I think it is broken. In fact, looking closely, I can tell it is broken. It should be part of the main shaft, as one piece.

Sadness.

My first thought was, damn, I already put it all together and I want to use it! So I finish. Then I go and email Klaus from Crown Mountain Farms (where I purchased it from). Please please advise I write to him.

He checks into it and Majacraft sends out a new handle. It was a very bad thing for me to have put it together though...as soon as I saw the damage (ie. when I was removing it from the box) I should have stopped then and taken it to the post office for inspection. Majacraft could have claimed insurance on the wheel because it broke in transit. But stupid me, I went and put the thing together, so no insurance. They still send the piece though.

Last night I finally get the replacement part...and a dowel rod...
On the rod it says: "conduit removal tool" -- what?!?

So I start taking the wheel apart, and I see it. In the middle section where the base shaft connects with the handle a pvc pipe is inserted to keep the two pieces together and to allow for a bolt to go through there. I push the dowel rod into this hole...no luck. This thing is in there good -- hopefully not permanently.

I find my hammer and check out the hole. This is not going to be fun...I really don't want my replacing this part to result in me breaking the thing with overzealous hammering. So I start...
The dowel is not very sturdy...it starts chipping from my off center hammer strikes. It also starts to splinter around the end next to the pvc pipe. In fact, it starts to shape its self to go INTO the pvc pipe! And the pipe has moved, maybe 1 mm.

At this point Hubby is concerned...he thinks for sure I am going to do more damage than not. He is not very happy with Majacraft.

Eventually, the pvc pipe is out enough that I can grab it and yank it out. Success!!! Slowly I begin reassembling the wheel. Everything is going very well. I get the wheel attached, the pedals, the flyer head...

There is another bolt hole at the top of the handle shaft (the new piece). This is the last part I have to do. This sets the tension for the flyer head part, keeps it in place and allows it to be loosened and re-situated. I go to put the bolt through...and realize that it doesn't push all the way in. Looking, I note that the bolt has a square part next to the head...this keeps it from turning and allows tightening of the bolt. I look at the hole, I look at the bolt again...the hole is round, the bolt is square...

I am trying my hardest to get a square peg into a round hole...sigh...

The wood is hard, I cannot simply push this bolt into the hole. I get out my trusty hammer again. By this time Hubby is freaking out, he is positive that I will break it if I try hammering this thing in. He is also very disappointed as I point out that the original part had the square already cut out of the hole, and inserting the bolt was easy peasy. -- Why didn't they do this to the new piece they sent me?!?

Anyway, I managed to get the bolt in enough for me to tighten it on the other end. There is a small gap, but its not bad. I might at some point try again to get it in all the way. So at this point she's up, functioning and looking beautiful, handle and all.

Magic

Friday, I went to see Bruce Springsteen. And it was AWESOME!!

Hubby, my sister and her hubby all went together. We had gotten General Admission tickets. So apparently at all Springsteen concerts there is a system for the GA.

The System:
Between 2pm and 5pm GA ticket holders show up, and receive a bracelet with a number on it.
At 5pm, everyone with these tickets is supposed to line up in number order.
At 5:15pm, a number is drawn from a large bucket.
Starting with that number and going up, the first 400 people get to be in the pit.
After that, everyone goes to the regular floor area.

OK, back to the story.

We depart around 2ish for Philly. Should we get food before hand? Well, we decide that we will wait until we are closer. The drive is wonderful. Spend the time listening to Deirdre Flint and old Springsteen songs. I knit, the guys bond, and sis and I catch up with life stuff. Apparently not paying attention, we miss the exit! So, we get off at the next one, and continue on our way - way out of the way...

Finally we arrive at the venue, 4pm...having not stopped for food. We decide to get our bracelets and then look for food. So we stand in line for about 30 minutes...not bad, we get numbers 417, 418, 421, 422...no clue how we got separated but who cares, its not bad.

We go back to the car and try to look for food. Actually, sis and I send the boys off to go hunt for food...after all, women are gatherers! Sis and I try to find out more about the system, as it is very not clear to us at this point.

No food! By this time we are starved. Now that we have the low down on the bracelets though, we feel pretty confident that we probably won't get picked for the pit. Should we go eat and then come back forgoing the chance to be close? No-way!! So we wait...

5pm. 800 or so people attempt to line up in order...

Remember in grade school those exercises where the class is to line up alphabetically by last name? And remember how it always takes 30 minutes or more for 30 children to do this? Yeah, lining up 800 adults by number...about the same result...There is no line, there is only confusion and mayhem. The event staff try their very hardest to organize the mob, but without any voice amplifying devices, you simply cannot expect to get the attention of 800 excited fans.

Of course then there is a jerk that decided to make up a lotto number and call it out...saying that that was the number picked! Right-- the number had not been picked at all! So this just made the mass of people even more frantic and even more unmanageable.

Before even half of the people were semi-arranged, the number is drawn. Everyone that had been in line rushed to the front in order to hear...now there is no line at all...

The number was: 405!!!

Halle - freakin - lujah! We are only 10 or so people from the front!!!! Hot damn!

So we wait in yet another line...a line that is very very close to the door. We wait, and wait, and wait. During our wait we notice these two chicabiddies talking to every guard and staff member in the area. Apparently their number is not in the 400 chosen to enter the pit. The one, tall, skinny, and blond, is half naked...she is definitely trying to use her feminine wiles to weasel her way into the line.

She talked to EVERYONE, people in the line, people outside the line, guards, staff, lonely looking men...This sort of woman just drives me nuts. Why would you do that?!? Doesn't that undo years of feminine efforts to be looked upon seriously - treated as equals? Apparently she is not a feminist. Everyone around us is determined not to let her get to us, not to let her anywhere near that stage. She is so freakin' obvious, I am sure that every guard has seen her and hopefully will not let her get there either.

We wait some more. This waiting sucks because now that we are guaranteed a spot in the pit, we know we will be standing all night...my feet start to hurt...

6:30 pm - the doors open. We receive our other two bracelets and enter. It is a mad rush to the bottom of the stadium and to the front of the stage. Frankly, I think this is absurd. Shouldn't the people with the closest numbers be guaranteed a close spot? Regardless of physical prowess? No this is not the case.

Anyway, we score a spot about 1 person from the front of the stage.

The concert starts and OMG how awesome is it to be 10 feet away from Bruce for the entire concert?!?! The whole show is fabulous! The set is wonderfully varied, some new songs, some oldies but goodies, it is AMAZING. Sis wasn't a big fan before, she just wanted to tag along and hang out with us...but by the end of the night, she was a huge fan! Now she is determined to listen to all his old songs and learn them.

What happened to the biddies? They ended up in the pit...right behind us. Some retarded man decided that she was pretty enough that she should be given a spot that she didn't deserve. Everyone around us noticed, how could the guards not notice?!? We made a wall...determined not to let them get any closer. And we succeeded! Even at the end, those two chickies never made it any closer. If it hadn't been for them, it would have been a perfect night.

Magical indeed.

Secret Happy Dance

It was a rainy day. Work was drab, morale was down, I was tired from being there since 6:30 am. Trying to make up some time, I was attempting to stay as long as I could.

Frequently through out the day, I check my web mail. Any morsel of non-work news is savored. Much of what comes in is just spam, but occasionally I catch a glimmer of the outside world.

3:30-ish: 'You have 1 new message.'
I check. This is the best sort of mail - someone has left a comment on my blog. Ahhh, yes the boob story. The commentee? Stephanie.

Ok, I know a Steph, she frequents the knit night at B&N. I go and check it out - like I said, ANY distraction is welcome at this time.

Waiting for the page to load...You know, I don't think the Steph I know has a blog, and she has never commented on mine...Maybe someone found me through one of the knitalongs I have joined.

I hover...the poster, the wonderful savior of a boring work day...http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/

My heart beat quickens, my eyes grow wide. Inside my brain it is all I can do to control my joy. No one at my work is as "into" knitting as me. Who could I share my excitement with? Sadly no one. So for the rest of the day, I was forced to celebrate in secret.

All afternoon I did a silent, secret happy dance. (Which is good, because once Hubby came home, I did the real full-out happy dance, and now he just thinks I'm a little more weird than I already was.)

Embarassment

It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, its lovely weather, a nice breeze is blowing. This morning Heather is driving into town. She doesn't mind because it is so nice out. The little bit of traffic doesn't even bother her. It is so nice today that she has decided to wear a spring-like white shirt and white sandals.

Heather pulls into the medical center parking lot. She is there to drop off her Holter monitor from the previous day. Just a quick run in, deposit the hardware, and then on her way to work. It is a beautiful day!

Because this medical center is for a heart doctors, many of the patients are of the older generation. Heather sees several of said patients on her way into the center. She smiles and waves, and even says hi to a few. They all look at her...oddly. That is OK, Heather expects that perhaps these people are not in the good mood that she is in, and maybe they don't understand that she is a patient here too. In any case, she remains happy. Quick into the building and drop the monitor into the bin for monitors. Lots of people in the lobby, she smiles at them all. After all it is such a nice day outside!

Walking outside, Heather pauses to look both ways in the parking lot. She looks down to make sure her nice white sandals don't get caught on the curb. And sees...



A GIANT FUZZY ON HER BOOB -- RIGHT OVER HER NIPPLE.



Nice.

Cardiology

Not a real post, just a quick update today. My family doctor doesn't know what to do, so he is sending me to a cardiologist -- for my neurological problem -- we will see how that goes. I can just imagine:

Dr. Heart Man: Why are you here?
Me: Mr. Dr. Man sent me for NMH.
Dr. Heart Man: Well, I have heard of what you have, but it really is a neurological problem, not a problem with your heart.
Me: I know.
Dr. Heart Man: OK, well, I'm going to send you to a neurologist, but to make it worth your time, let's do a bunch of unnecessary tests first.
Me: Yeah, whatever.

Despite the negative sounding post, I do not blame Mr. Dr. Man. He is a good guy, and a nice Dr. Man. I just hope whatever he is thinking about is correct, and hopefully my time is not wasted. There is nothing like prolonging a condition unnecessarily. Let's also hope that Dr. Heart Man is just as nice.

Happy Birthday

...to me.

I am not a big fan of birthday celebrations. And this year is no exception. I don't want a party, I don't want a special outting. I just want it to be any day like any other day. If people want to give me money or presents, that is their choice but definitely not a requirement. --Except for Hubby, and he already gave me my present...Wii!!!

Why haven't I been attending knitting night?

In high school I was diagnosed with Neurally Mediated Hypotension. It is something that I have learned to live with over the years. Through college I was able to precisely predict episodes and prevent them. Recently however, I have been having trouble again. I am doing all the same things that have helped me during the last 10 years, but for some reason, it isn't helping as much as it should. This week I went to the doctor, had blood drawn, wore a heart monitor for 24 hours, and struggled at work. Next Monday, I go back to the doctor and find out (hopefully) what has been making me worse lately. Until then, I just have to deal with feeling bad.

Sitting for a long period at knit night just isn't a possibility right now. I would either have to keep getting up, or lay down. And there is a chance that I still won't feel well enough to be a happy, cheerful knitter. So, until this gets cleared up, or until I have a better Thursday, I will have to keep my knitting to myself -- at home, where I can lay down when I need to, and complain to my very understanding Hubby.