2004
Separation Anxiety
Isn’t it funny how when you take one thing out of your life, suddenly everything seems without point or worth?
No, it’s not funny. Not at all.
2004
Coughy McSick
I’m still sick, but definitely much better than I was a week ago, when I stayed home from work for two days. Last Thursday, I forced myself to stay at work for two hours. On Friday, I was feeling good enough and guilty enough that I went in for four hours, two of which were spent sitting in a meeting coughing into my mitten, one of which was spent at lunch enjoying having an appetite for the first time in what seems like a millennia, and the last hour of which was spent sitting at my desk catching up on blogs because there wasn’t any real work I could trust my brain to do acceptably.
This illness is the worst and stupidest way I’ve ever spent a week off work. Usually when I stay home sick, I’m secretly excited because it means I get to sleep late, watch some guilty-pleasure daytime tv, indulge in some recreation reading, drink orange tea, wear sweats, and take care of odds and ends around the house that I’m usually not in the mood to tackle when I come home from the office during the week. Well, I would have no such luck with this evil bug from Hades. And like GeminiGirl said, it is indeed the flu–the bad one that was killing toddlers in Colorado and putting adults on ventilators in the Midwest (I have my mom, the nurse, to thank for that last nice piece of inspiration). I have been all-over achy, feverish, congested, dizzy, and just generally mungy. My eyeballs hurt. The thought of clothes touching my skin made me sick to my stomach. I’ve had the dry cough that rips at my throat like a brush made of rusty nails, I’ve had the wet cough that echoes with a worrisome rattle in my ribs, I’ve had the cough that sounds like a put-on but isn’t because who in their right mind would wake up at 3 am and hack like a hairy cat for fifteen minutes just for a little attention?
Of course, Ethan’s been sick this whole time too, although his illness hasn’t been as severe, due, we think, to the inhaler steroids he takes every day for his chronic asthma. The kid’s lungs are probably 80 percent plastic now–strong yet supple and able to withstand even the worst abuse, just like Rubbermaid. Even when his flu was at its worst, he still managed to drive us all the way home from LA (a six-hour drive), and for that he has once again earned my undying love and affection. *sigh* He’s also been force-feeding me grapefruit every morning to make me better, so he has now officially been promoted from the Order of Seraphim to the Order of Cherubim. I, on the other hand, haven’t taken very good care of him at all, but, hey, I could barely get off the futon, so there wasn’t really much I could do. I’m already thinking of ways to make it up to him.
Disneyland was fun, but there isn’t really anything hysterical or tragical or magical to report. It was what it was. Space Mountain and Thunder Mountain Railroad were both closed, so that sucked, but Small World was also closed, so that made up for it. 
Ethan treated me like a princess; I got cotton candy and a set of white sparkly mouse ears with a wedding veil attached. It was just too funny to pass up, so we didn’t. Here’s a page o’ pix from Disneyland.
And speaking of being the bride-to-be, my scheme to get a room upgrade didn’t work, but the front desk lady did say she thought my shirt was cute. Well, thanks, that’s very kind, but it’s not quite the same as an in-room hot tub, now is it? The hotel itself was magnificent on arrival. The lobby looked like the Crystal Cathedral. The inlay work on the palm-lined drive up to the front doors belonged to an Italian villa, and the doorboys were to die for in their little hats and knee-length tunics. When we pulled up, we were surprised to have the doorboys come to our car and offer to unload our luggage and valet park the Rebuilt ’89 Corolla with the Peeling Silver Paint. Ethan’s already modest ego definitely shrunk two sizes that day when he had to tell them ‘no’ because the car was full of fast-food bags stuffed with used tissues from the drive down and the trunk was packed to overflowing with not only our luggage but two beach chairs, towels, a baseball bat, three sets of rollerblades (all his), a fleece blanket covered with stickyburrs, and a plastic breastplate from Halloween when Ethan donned armor and an Uncle Sam hat, beard, and bowtie to dress as American Foreign Policy (still haven’t posted those pictures…). But despite being out of our league in the hotel lobby, we were able to get our snob on with proper aplomb when we were shocked to realize our room didn’t have a mini fridge. The horror!
The best part and biggest surprise of the trip was the ride down. Instead of taking the six-hour route down I-5, we went along the coast on Highway 1. We passed through Big Sur, some wine country, some farm country, some baby cow country (god, I love their snotty snouts!), and saw things we’d never seen, like Santa Barbara. Ooh ahh. It took us an extra 2 1/2 hours, but it was worth it. Here’s a page o’ pix from the drive.
Just outside of Hearst Castle, we came upon this sight. Look closely…Elephant seals! (Only the males have the big floppy noses.) It was birthing season, too. Talk about snotty snouts… The noise and the smells lent themselves to some pretty unoriginal potty jokes by the hordes of kids onsite, but it really was wonderful to see. Ah, new life.
Speaking of which, is everyone else going crazy waiting for Dooce‘s baby? I am. My cousin just had her third two weeks ago (pictures to come!). Since her baby’s name isn’t even a real name (although they say it’s from the Bible), I can’t type it normally for fear that one good Google will bring up this site, so here it is in hyphenated form: M-A-I-R-A-H. A gold star and a hundred points to the person who can tell me how the parents pronounce it. I’m going to submit the name to this site later (I’ve submitted my cousin’s other two kids’ names already). Ah well, I hear she’s cute, so maybe her life won’t be so hard after all. I hear she looks like a cross between these two, her siblings, aka, the cutest kids in the world:
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But I digress. Is it getting delirious in here or is it just me? I should go.
2004
Smitten?
Finally! A mitten for lovers! (The website is really really bad, but the product itself looks 100 percent good.) Gee, maybe I’ll get one in time for Valentine’s Day from someone who knows how very much I adore mittens and holding hands (I really can’t live without either, you know).
