Stymied.

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I wanted to write about last weekend, well, last weekend, but I wanted to post with the pictures from last week. In order to post the pictures, however, I needed to set up my new system because I'm running out of disk space on the old system. But setting up the new system required copying my site to the new server, which required hooking the old system to the new system via ethernet, instead of copying through the switch (really, really slowly, since I have the system bandwidth rate limited). And setting up the system for copying over ethernet requires a trip to the colo.

Which I haven't done.

Sigh.

My mouth meets Pavlov's dogs

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The journey continued north today, as I ventured to the dentist's for a filling replacement. The filling being replaced was over 20 years old, so Mom got her money's worth on that one.

My last filling was ages ago. Heck, my last oral surgery dealing with my wisdom teeth and jaw bone reconstruction was ages ago, too. Jaw bone reconstruction? Don't ask.

All of it has been so long ago that, in fact, I needed a refresher on what to expect.

A "dot here, shot there, redot here, shot there, numbness, tooth lock, dental dam, drill, putty, laser, putty, laser, and a sand" explanation later, and we ready to go.

My dentist tucked a numbing agent in the side of my mouth, and a few moments later, with a truly huge evil looking syringe, says, "Okay, I'll just inject this now. You'll feel a little prick."

I'm thinking, "A little prick? With that thing?!" and immediately close my eyes and conjure up every relaxation technique I have ever learned. Settling on the start with the toes and relax up, I relaxed into the shot. Okay, this isn't too bad.

When the dentist pulled away, he turned and said, "Okay, that wasn't too bad. You'll start feeling numb right ... about ... now."

And that's when the trouble began.

There are nominally three general classifications of migraines: common, complex and complicated. Most people who get migraines get the "common migraine," the intense, throbbing, one-sided pain that defines the migraine.

Some of the lucky migraine sufferers experience the complex migraine, which means they also have other symptoms accompanying the migraine. You know, joyful symptoms like dizziness, numbness, nausea and the headache.

The complicated migraine, on the other hand, is the headache with visual disturbances, or auras. Something weird happens with the eyes, and interesting effects happen in the sufferer's vision. (That "something weird" happens to be a blood vessel spasm that reduces blood flow to the brain, affecting brain functioning. For complicated migraine sufferers, blood flow to the vision portion of the brain or even the eyes themselves is affected.)

Yours truly is one of the truly blessed. I get complicated, complex migraines. Auras, numbness, nausea, light and sound sensitivity, all unwelcome friends.

And that's where today's appointment comes in.

When my mouth started to go numb, I looked around nearly frantically. Could I see? Was my vision fading, too? Oh, my stomach hurts.

Since the only time my mouth (and an entire side of my body) goes numb is during a migraine, my body (and admittedly my mind) responded to the chemical-induced numbness with my remaining migraine symptoms.

Eventually I was able to continue the relaxation techniques and quell the nausea. My dentist complimented me on handling the whole filling replacement well.

I guess nearly falling asleep in the chair helped.

Not yet, Poppa, not yet

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When Kris and I watch CSI: Miami, we always talk in repeating sentences, typically mocking the Horatio Caine character who repeats himself every other sentence. Every. Other. Sentence.

It's quite funny to add emphasis by repeating sentences. By. Repeating. Sentences. Especially when the other person giggles.

Today, when driving home from picking up Liza with Mike, Liza was telling us what town she lives in. She was quite talky, which contributed greatly to her cuteness of the evening.

At one point, Liza announced we were heading into town. Mike told her we were already in town.

At which point Liza channelled Horatio in a very adult voice, "Not yet, Poppa. Not yet."

Looking over the fence

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I'm a big fan of Freecycle. Freecycle is a movement to keep items out of landfills by offering unwanted items to the local community (typically by email postings via Yahoo! groups), and giving the items away. It's great for those people, like me, who have crap they don't want, don't use any more, but either don't want to go through the hassle of selling it on eBay, or realize the item has little value.

I like getting rid of my junk. I like that I didn't throw it in the garbage. I like that it can be used more.

Sometimes, the timing works out well where I'd like to pick something up from the list. Like today, for example. I'm trying to recover from an injury, so when a piece of exercise equipment was offered, I contacted the offerer via email. At the offerer's request, I called to arrange a pickup time for the item.

The call was a bit uncomfortable for me.

I tried to be cheerful. This person was giving me a relatively expensive piece of equipment. I'm going to be as excited as I can be on the phone.

The voice on the other end of the line, however, sounded depressed. It was also hesitant, and, crap, I'm not going to explain this well, and I'm probably projecting here, but also lacking self esteem.

The voice reminded me of a coworker back in L.A. This guy had everything in his life go wrong. Everything. His wife was a chronic shopaholic, spending so much money on credit cards that even the second mortgage wouldn't cover the bills. He never stood up for himself. He didn't trust his decisions. He couldn't talk to anyone above him at work. I'm pretty sure I intimidated the hell out of him.

Crap, I can't even remember this guy's name.

Before I met him, I believed that, with desire and a bit of effort, that people could fundamentally change; that people could break out of their shells and realize their potential; that people could learn, achieve.

I figured, if I could come out of my shell, do the things I do, learn what I've learned, and accomplished what I've accomplished, then anyone could. Right?

Well, after I worked with this guy for a bit, I realized that, no, there are some cases that even with a lot of work, won't ever break from that shell. I can't say "hopeless," but I wouldn't say "hopeful" either.

The voice at the other end reminded me of this ex-coworker. Reminded me of the people who don't have the resources and opportunities that I have and have had. Reminded me how much a desire to be more than this can drive a person.

Reminded how far I had come on my journey.

I'm glad to have made it this far.

Need to learn to read the menu

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I called up P.F.Changs to place a lunch order to-go. Mike was going to pick it up on his way back from his off-site client, so I ordered for Raphael, Chris, Mike and me.

Mike wanted "beef with scallions."

No problem. Standard dish.

After waiting on-hold for too long, I finally managed to talk to someone to take my order. The first item I ordered was the "Beef with scallions."

"We don't have any dish like that."

Um...

Okay.

Without pausing, I continued with the next item on our order, while simultaneously looking up the closest item from the menu. From the menu:

MONGOLIAN BEEF
Quickly cooked steak with scallions and garlic.

Hm. No dish like that, eh?

Lady, you need to learn your restaurant's menu better.

Sam-a-rooni is coming to visit!

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When I was 4 years old, my parents sent me on my merry way to visit my cousin Janelle and her husband Paul down in Kentucky. I remember much more about that trip than I suspect I probably should.

I vaguely remember the inside of Janelle's house. I remember playing in the back yard with the milkweed along the back fence. I remember looking up and seeing a jet and its contrails across the clear blue sky. I remember Paul coming home late in the afternoon.

And I remember taking my first shower. I remember it being strange to stand in the tub and have water fall down upon me. Janelle bathed me, so I wasn't taking one by myself, but it was still slightly frightening. The water - its moving! Really fast!

Mid-July, one of my two nephews is coming to visit me for a week. The journey will certainly be entertaining, and I suspect the week will be crazy, too. But I'm looking forward to spending the week with a 4 year old boy.

Admittedly, I'm a little nervous about being able to keep up with Sam for a week. How do I keep a 4 year old entertained? I can't bring all his toys over here, and I'm certainly not plunking him down in front of the television for a week. I wonder if he'd be willing to garden with me.

I talked to JenO about sitting for a week. She says we should schedule a play date between Cole and Sam. And that I can borrow various toys for the week.

I'll also have to put away all my clutter, child-proof the house. That's going to be a chore.

Oh, yeah, and buy a plastic mattress cover for the twin bed. The only thing worse than a dog pissing in a (read: my) bed is a little boy pissing in a (read: my other) bed.

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