Beyond the Blog
Hunk
I'm salivating...!
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Friday, October 08, 2004
Not about writing (Words) or fitness (Weights)
Huh. Actually had a prob starting this post as I couldn't think of what in my life didn't involve my writing or fitness efforts. I then remember other people....
Spouse
Overworked, underpaid, and stressed from lack of time just to relax. I don't think the Puritans and certain other christian branches, who consider "idle hands to be the work of the devil" or such, really thought of 4 hour round-trip driving commutes or government paperwork (i.e., saw 20 patients today and averaging 6 minutes per patient equals two hours worth of paperwork. And can't use lunch hours since the clinic overbooked again/patient thinks they have a cold and it's an emergency/another staff meeting about how the clinic's growing but we have no money so would the doctors be willing to have their paychecks cut back again/another lawsuit: the patient alleges the doctors' diet didn't work since they won't pay for the celebrity chef to make their special foods--hamburgers, cheese, mayonaise but definitely no bread since that'll continue to make them fat which they're not at 450 pounds according to their therapist/guru/witchdoctor/best friend--
Uh, moving on.
Family
Sibling will be picking up her baby from the parental figures residence this week. It'll be interesting to say the least. Apparently my parents picked up the rapidly growing boy every time he even hinted of crying. My sister and brother-in-law will have their hands full--again--of breaking that habit in him.
Friends
According to them, I don't have any. Hmmm. Maybe I should call them more than once a year.
Acquaintences
See friends above.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
"Come together, right now, over me"
The remodeling of our house continued last night. Our floor contractor came over to take measurements of the master and guest bathrooms in anticipation of the work we want done in both. He brought a new staircase contractor to take measurements and specifics of our staircase.
The effect this project on us has struck me almost curious. Overall, this endevour been harmonious. We've heard plenty of couples whose relationships strain at such projects and I'll admit we've had a few moments. It doesn't help R. works nearly an hour and a half away from home. This draws out the process as we can't simply get together during the weekdays and drive over to the nearest store to look at fixtures. And not all such stores are open the entire weekend, either.
I believe the reasons are quite simple. R.'s family has done such remodeling of their homes in the past. We also have very similar tastes, agreeing almost immediately on what I call a "Structure" color scheme.
I acquiece a lot to R.'s suggestions. This is not due to some battle of wills between the two of us, but I simply acknowledge R.'s better eye in the overall scheme, the patterns, and the details. I still cringe at the sight of some of downstairs bookcases, cases I had built with haste in mind, not detail. The misplaced backing, the bowing shelves, all which would not have happened if I had paid more attention.
Bookcases, though, are not human lives. Every day R. continues to amaze me about patients' illnesses and how one test or symptom--coupled with experience and knowledge--changes a diagnosis. (And it continually pains both of us how many patients continually self-diagnosis themselves based on hearsay, urban myth, books, and the Internet. There is a reason for those blood tests, folks.)
But I digress.
The remodeling is definitely a joint effort. I keep watch over our budget. R. sometimes has too many ideas and needs my input. (And, by the by, I will priorities aestethics over funds depending on the options.) And there is definitely one room that will be all mine to remodel: my office.
Finally (and in some ways, the most important), remodeling is a major undertaking even for R.'s shoulders. Thus I give reassurances that everything will be fine, that all this effort is worth it and the designs will be gorgeous. And I do this daily. As the cliche' goes: it's the little things that can make or break a relationship.
Image found on the Internet and all rights belong to its owner.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
A visit from an imaginary friend
"So this is your digs?"
I turned at the voice. At the sight of the familiar figure, I jumped from my seat.
"Ward!"*
We hugged at the doorway, laughing and pounding each other's arms the way men do that women just shake their heads.
It took us several minutes to become coherent. Both of us loved to talk and kept interrupting each other as I invited Ward into the apartment. Finally, though, we figured what each man had been doing for the past months.
"A book tour?" I said, handing him his plate of banana cream pie. Ward took it eagerly; though my height, his much broader build still made it appear he was several inches shorter than me.
"Yes." He looked about the kitchen, lost. I laughed and handed him a fork. He raised an eyebrow as he took the utensil as he continued. "For my second book. I really didn't want to do it since I'm still working on the new series, but the publisher insisted." He took a bite of the pie and responded to its taste by closing his dark eyes, his face beaming. I was about to take a bite of my own piece when his eyes flung open.
"Frick frack! I almost forgot!" He opened his carry-on and began to rummage through it.
I finished my bite and said, "Don't tell me you're still making up imaginary curse words." Ward didn't reply. He found what he had been looking for and pulled out a squarish object. I smiled as he handed it to me.
"A copy of the book," I said. "Thanks."
"Signed."
"But of course." I glanced through the dustjacket even though, as a reader of Ward's manuscripts, I was already familiar with the story. He took the opportunity to finish the rest of his pie. I sighed and placed the copy on the table. "Doesn't look like they didn't hype it up too far from the plot."
Ward nodded, then said, "so did you figure out why you stopped blogging?"
To be continued....
*Ward is fictional, based on a character (whose name is Ward, hint, hint) from one of my favorite books. If you can guess which book, I'll send you a Gmail account. If you already have one, I'll send you a congrats dance.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Back
Weekends have been primarily spent in preparation for the house remodeling. Two weekends ago we visited our contractors' shops to go over flooring, wall materials, and to see samples. Last weekend we saw more samples of their works; we visited one contractors home and saw another one's friend's residence. R. and I were pleased both times. We also saw various fixture shops. I didn't know there were so many different sinks! I'm hoping to start finalizing some of our choices soon. We have a contractor coming out this week to take more measurements.
I've been at my current assignment for over two weeks. So far it's looking good. In many ways it's a dream job: busy but I set my own pace for the most part; chance to learn new technology; business casual dress; pleasant co-workers; boss whom I rarely interface; and lots of free coffee and water. Oh! And there are two food shops right across the street (which, when I think about it, is a mixed blessing.) And I recently discovered the gym is within ten minutes. Guess where I'm going to start spending my lunch hour?
Finally, there's a possibility the job may go perm. I'm not concerned: I was told the job was a long-term temp assignment and currently consider it that way. I'm still debating if I want to do any significant changes to fit my cubicle for my own comfort.
Mom continues to recover from her accident. Her arm is healing nicely. Even better, my sister and brother-in-law did acquiesce and allow her to take care of their child. What Mom did was interesting and quite typical: she'd direct her 'helpers' like my aunt and Dad to do the physical work like feeding the baby, changing his diaper, etc. Thus, all the comfort of her grandchild's presence without the labor. Smart.
Due to some recent and persistent traffic...snarls...R.'s been getting up earlier and earlier. Or trying. Unfortunately, we're still going to bed way too late. I definite feel the effect after lunch and in the evening after work. I'm changing my work so I do more filing at that time, hoping the physical labor will jumpstart my sagging attention. And I'm toying with the idea of hitting the gym immediately after work: there are many classes around 1800. For those evenings when I'm writing, I debating about having coffee (which I normally don't drink after work.)
Blogging.
My friend GAC and I discussed the issue last night before reviewing I, Claudius. Both of us had found it difficult not to blog and finally started to channel our blogging energies to reading and commenting on other blogs. I sometimes do feel like an addict but reminded myself there's very little difference when I'm in the middle of a writing a novel. Anyway, he started blogging again tonight which post I still have to read. (I noted many regular bloggers tend to gush when they've stopped even for a short time. I'm not one of them, of course.)
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Beyond the Blog
The Dusty Attic
Uh, there' s not even any dust
Laser Vaginal Rejuvination Institute
I think I caught the tale end of the documentary on Discovery Health.
