kris

8:37 to job

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 20:40 on 15 September 2006

On Wednesday, Kris had a job interview. Two days in a row he had to get up in the morning too early for the two of us with natural sleep-until-noon tendencies. Good thing I convinced him to get up early the day before, to practice.

Always pragmatic, Kris timed the drive into to interview. He was leaving early enough to catch the carpool lane, and the office would be closer than previous work places, so he was hopeful for an easier commute. He also planned to time the drive back, to compare the two.

After the interview, which he felt went pretty well, Kris started the timer on his watch, and started his drive home. He received a phone call as soon as he started drivingand immediately thought, "What the? Does Kitt have a webcam in my car?"

Oh, the suggestions that man makes to me... Time to find a mobile webcam system...

The call was, indeed, not from me. Instead, the company he just interviewed at was calling to let him know they wanted give him a job offer.

Surprised, he looked at his watch.

8 minutes, 37 seconds to job.

Top that.

I convinced him

Blog Instead of being asleep at 19:59 on 13 September 2006, kitt created this:

I finally convinced Kris to go to a dermatologist to have various spots on his body checked out. by convincing, I mean, I made a doctor appointment for him, reminded him about it, woke him up in the morning, and went to the appointment with him. He had a couple spot on his chest and one on his back that I was a bit concerned about, so I went to point them out to the doctor. Doyle and Mike suggested I circle the suspious spots in permanent marker, add a note, and send Kris to the doctor by himself, so that I could save time. I ignored them.

We arrived at 9:05 am, five minutes late for his appointment, only to discover that his appointment was at 9:30 am. D'oh. "I could have slept another thirty minutes, Kris complained. Yeah, yeah.

The doctor looked all over Kris, at his various moles and freckles, from his hair to his feet, before she asked which spots I was concerned about. I pointed them out, one at a time: one she said was scar tissue, one was a cyst, and one was just a large freckle-mole with hairs growing out of it. She expressed concern about a particular mole on his thigh, but it was one that was there for as long as I've been seeing Kris naked, so she wasn't concerned much.

When she left, I commented to Kris that I really didn't believe her, that I wanted to take pictures of the spots for later comparison, and maybe have them removed, just in case. He was a little surprised and asked why I didn't believe her. "Because the dermatologist who originally looked at mine told me it was just a skin tag."

Just a skin tag.

I went in to have the spot next to my eye, which was growing slowly, and annoyed me. She told me it was just a skin tag, and that I would probably have to pay for its removal out of pocket. She said the removal would include a biopsy, and my insurance company probably wouldn't pay for that either, was I really sure I wanted to have it removed?

I'm a huge fan of fixing things that bother me. I paid for orthodontia when I was 29, to have braces for the second time in my life, because one tooth was out of place.

One tooth.

No one could see the out-of-place tooth, but I could feel it and it bothered me. So, I had it fixed. Same thing with this skin tag. It bothered me. It hurt when I pressed on it. I thought it was a wart next to my eye, caused by rubbing my eyes after dealing with a wart on my foot years ago. Reasonable thinking? Probably not. But the supposed skin tag annoyed me, and I wanted it gone.

Two weeks later, I was receiving voice mail messages from my doctor, would I please call her back. I called her back, sat down, and found out I had skin cancer. A small localized tumour, but because of the location, I needed surgery to have it removed.

Insurance ended up covering the removal of that "skin tag," and I became suspicious of every bump on my body. And Kris'.

Given the initial mis-diagnosis of my growth (I need to give it a name so that I can refer to it more easily, suggestions?), I was suspicious of Kris' glowing diagnosis. Part of me wants to accept the scar tissue as just scar tissue from some internal injury that has surfaced. It's the same part of me that thought my eye bump was a wart.

The other part of me screams HE HAS NEVER HAD AN INJURY IN THAT SPOT, much less an open, scar causing injury THAT KEEPS GROWING. That's the part that says, I don't care about the $700 cost, cut it off now.

I know that I'm more paranoid than I should be. I know that Kris isn't paranoid at all. Somehow, between the two of us, we'll find a middle we can both live with.

In the car with Bella

Blog kitt decided around 15:46 on 6 September 2006 to publish this:

Okay, I'm really starting to like this sidekick. The data plan with this device is much nicer than the one I had with sucky-suck Cingular for the Treo. Not hat the Treo is so bad, but rather, Cingular is.

Kris and his new humidifer

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 15:41 on 6 September 2006

Bought the last two in the store, but only because they were two for

one. House mold, here we come.

I've been trying

Blog Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 23:32 on 27 August 2006

Ever since Kris was laid off, I've been trying very hard not to spend money. Mostly not to spend money on superfluous things. Things like a chest freezer to store extra boxes of Girl Scout cookies and the chocolate chip cookies I made last week and the extra slice of the Great Wall of Chocolate from P.F. Changs that I couldn't finish. Or maybe the electrolysis to remove those annoying little hairs that are growing from places they're really not supposed to be growing. You know, the important things. Screw food, water and shelter, who needs that?

Unfortunately, consumer habits die hard, and I've really enjoyed using my new Sidekick. This thing cracks me up! When I showed Heather, hey look, I can log into IM from this thing, isn't that neat, she replied, "Great! Now you can always be connected." When I answered, "I know! Isn't that awesome?" her response was, "You know, that's not a good thing for most people."

Yeah, well, me and my toys. Certainly wasn't always that way.

When Kris and I first started dating, he ordered DSL for his Intarweb connection. I couldn't understand why he needed this faster, always on connection.

Until I used it.

For our first Christmas, Kris bought each of us cell phones. When I opened my box, my response was something like, "Wow! Thanks! Cell phones? Who needs a cell phone?"

Ah, but he was just setting the stage.

I recall thinking Bharat was way an early adopter with his Tivo (oooo!) and his tiny cellphones. Oddly, people think of me that way now.

People are crazy.

Besides, I'm trying not to spend money at this point.

Try as I might, I'm not having much luck at it.

Our refridgerator died last week. Mike saved us the $500 repair by offering us the use of his old one (yay, Mike!). Then, the DSL died, resulting in potentially another couple hundred dollars worth of repairs. Worlds tickets (admittedly a vacation we're choosing to go on, and not one that's absolutely required) are coming up, as well as housing and such. A favorite picture fell shattering the glass, requiring another $40 framing job.

Mike said, when it rains, it pours. He's right. I just wish our clients would pay us, and make this downpour of expenses a little easier to take.

Heather's got my back

Blog kitt decided around 00:50 on 12 August 2006 to publish this:

This morning, Kris and Heather were up early to move a truckload of Heather's stuff up north to Oakland (so sad! Our roomie is leaving us!).

On the way out, Heather said to Kris, "I need a Starbucks!" so off they went to the nearest Starbucks. As they arrived, Heather turned to Kris. "I'm buying, order anything you like!"

So he ordered a coffee.

Once he had it in hand, Heather\ looked at him (presumably squinty eyed and all) and responded, "Hmmm... Kitt's not here.... Coffee! You're having coffee!!?"

Oh shit.

Blog Posted by kitt at 21:09 on 9 August 2006

Call from Kris today. Shake up happened at work today, and half the staff was laid off. Kris included.

Contrast our two reactions:

Mine: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Kris': "Eh."

Kris had been working a LOT of hours semi-recently, fewer recently because the big push was over and they were all recovering from the long hours. His boss was forced out two weeks ago, just as the department was ramping up to work horrendous hours again, hours Kris wasn't sure he wanted to work.

He wasn't sure about the long term viability of the company, given the hours they were about to be asked to work. His boss leaving gave them a small reprieve, but ultimately not a full one. Kris had been asking if I had enough hours to keep him busy full time. Mike really doesn't want spouses working together, and I can see how scary the dynamics would be: feast and famine of a small business is scary when all your eggs are in one basket.

One basket.

One very small, burnt out basket.

To say I'm not a bit scared would be lying. I'm nervous. We have health insurance paid until the end of next month, so we're good there.

Kris, I'm with you, just as I before. It's just a fire under the butt to get us going, time to start on our projects, see where we end up. We have our safety net. We have each other. You are my rock. :*

Row your loveshack six words long in the rain

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 00:51 on 3 August 2006

After leaving the watchtower, Kris' niece and nephew joined our car on our continuing journey to our Grand Canyon lodging. As with any two children under 17 and over 4, put two in the backseat of any car, and they'll start fighting. One two three, right on time, the fighting started.

Kris decided to end the fighting with the distraction technique, by asking them if they knew any songs. Simutaneously, they starting singing, "Singin' in the rain! We're singin' in the rain. Just singin' in the rain. Singin' in the rain!"

After about three minutes of the endless repeat of the four words with minor variations, Kris turned to me. "I think they'd do well at 'This Song is Just Six Words Long'."

The chorus is the back seat immediately shifted. "This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long. This song is just six words long."

A few minutes later, I realized the song had changed again. William was still singing, "This song is just six words long," but Michelle had changed back to, "Singin' in the rain!" Kris looked over at me, smiled, and started in.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..."

Before we the kids had joined us in the car, Kris and I had been discussing songs that would never, ever be allowed in our collective iTunes library. "My Hump" was one that wouldn't make it, unless I had to choose between "My Hump" and "Loveshack" by the B52s. I'll let the shack burn to the ground first. That song is the worst song known to mankind, and NOT going on my iPod.

Tragically, with the row, row, rowing and the sing, sing, singing and the word, word, wording, the only song in my head, yes, was "Loveshack."

I gave in, and started belting out the song, bringing our cacophony to a fevered pitch.

I lasted all of ten seconds before laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

Good times.

Make it through the next ten years

Blog Instead of being asleep at 20:57 on 2 August 2006, kitt created this:

On our first day of vacation at the Grand Canyon, we drove into the East gate and stopped at the Watchtower. The watchtower sits close to the edge of the Canyon, with four stories to climb up for spectacular views. The nearness to the entrance gate and the spectacular views means many people stop there for their first view of the canyon.

Which means crowds.

Even on a Wednesday.

We arrived close enough to sunset that most of the other people there were also arriving at the end of a long day of travelling.

At least, that's what i'm convinced was the reason for the large, red-headed woman used to explain why it was okay to scream at her children in front of everyone. The child was about to take a picture that his mother didn't want taken (with a digital camera, no less); the picture was not of his mother, so I'm not really sure the reason for the woman's violent reaction,

Through the course of our visit, we crossed paths again with the woman, her husband, and their three children several times. The three siblings were all red-heads, and all very striking, good looking kids. Each will definitely grow up breaking hearts.

Assuming they can overcome the verbal beatdowns they receive from their parents.

In the twenty or so minutes our lives crossed with their, neither parent said one nice thing to any of the children. Worse, the father's voice was accusatory, the mother's dripping with contempt.

I wanted to take the kids aside, especially the boy, and talk to them. I wanted to tell him it gets better, that, no, this is not what life is, and that yes, thinking for himself is a good thing. I wanted to give him a hug, and tell if he keeps trying, he'll do wonderful amazing things. I wanted to encourage him to try, even when people say no. I wanted to tell him that not all women are like his mother, and, yes, he can do right.

And I wanted to tell him that his sister was skilled in parental manipulation, and that he'd need to learn how to play the game. Oh, kid, learn to play the game, and grow bigger than this shitty childhood life dealt you.

Frivolity of my pain

Blog Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 02:06 on 31 July 2006

End of a long day spent on the ultimate field, and one where we ended victorious beating Brass Monkey 9-7 at hard cap (had they scored that last point, it would have been 8-8, and double game point).

I started off the day thinking I could play, but managed only the warm-up square drill before my back seized again. I played the first game against Frizbee Nation, as they were the bottom ranked team in our pool, and I figured it would be a good warm up game.

Oddly enough, R played with them. They clearly wanted to use R as we use Adam Brown, but not as well, as he had to attempt to run down a series of tragically misdirected hucks. It was strange to see him, much less see him play. I doubt he knows that he and his friends are dead to me. Can't wait to tell them.

I tried to keep playing, but even two Advil™ and one Vicodin™ didn't help. My back was still in too much pain to do much other than walk, and slowly at that.

The end of the day, I was hobbling around like a little old lady. I turned to Kris and commented,

"Either the vic wore off, or it didn't help in the first place."

"I thought you were going to take the second one."

"I was, but it's our last one, and I didn't want to waste it on something as frivolous as my pain."

blink.

blink. blink.

"I hope in five years you'll understand just how funny that statement really was."

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