Blogged Out

It's time to go ahead and say:

Farewell!
Adios!
Au Revoir!
Aloha!
Shalom!
Ciao!

I could go on.  Google "how to say goodbye in languages" and see how many choices there are.

Between Facebook and Twitter and texting and emailing and all the other techno options out there, I've lost the blogging desire as a source for sharing.  Still love reading all of your blogs however!

(I reserve the right to change my mind.  I may need more room to brag about Emma than the other sources provide.)

Over and out!

Daddy

Daddy is beginning chemo again today.  I think he started about 18 months ago, but I can't be certain.  I feel somewhat guilty that I don't remember these things more clearly, but I just don't.  I can't even say with certainty how long ago he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, but I want to say it was 12 years ago.  Addison asked me this morning how many rounds of chemo he's had, and again I don't know.  I think yesterday he told me each full treatment of chemo for him is about 12 rounds, each three weeks apart.  But have I already forgotten exactly what he said less than 24 hours ago?

Here is something I do know.  My dad is a very positive man.  I know he has his moments when he gets down and feels depleted, but what people around him and who talk to him see and hear are upbeat, positive thoughts.  Over a decade of being poked and prodded, enduring intensely painful procedures, feeling blah and drained for months at a time, and dealing with the monthly question of "what will this test result reveal," he remains positive. 

I also know there are people who deal with illnesses and who vent and complain and who are COMPLETELY entitled to do so.  Reaching out for support and bending the ear of a friend or family member is okay, so I don't want to offend anyone by saying otherwise.  Let's be honest, we all know the difference between wanting attention and wanting support and who fits into which category.  But my dad doesn't beg for either.  Sure, he'll ask for prayers and will post a Facebook status update about his treatment occasionally, but he almost always has a hint of humor or playful sarcasm attached, even when he's anxious and worried.

So Daddy is on my mind today as he once again begins chemo and is faced with another several months of not feeling himself.  From my earliest memories, I've considered my dad to be a big, strong man.  It is still a simple yet perfect description, because it describes his mental outlook as well.  Sure, I can outrun my dad now, but I'm miles behind him in practicing a positive attitude each day. 

Good luck, Daddy.  Love you.

Fail

So yesterday I got a speeding ticket doing 41 in a 40.  Except technically it wasn't a 40 mph zone at the moment.  It was a construction zone, and I failed to see the 30 mph signs that were apparently posted everywhere, says the officer.  He's right; they were there.

Still, I was annoyed.  I didn't like the way he approached my window and announced "41 in a 30" with such a "gotcha" tone.  I didn't like how he claimed to do me a favor by reducing my speed while still charging me $150.  I don't get intimidated too easily by encounters with the police, yet I'm not saying this is a good character trait of mine.  A little humility is probably best in these situations.  I was maybe a tiny bit snippy, might have voiced annoyance at the amount of the fine, and might have been smacking my gum.  He picked up on it, I could tell.  He walked away telling me to "try to have a better day."  Really?

So I continue to be pissy and annoyed and complain about the whole thing to everyone (even the people at Fleet Feet for goodness sake), like most of us do I'm guessing.  And I'm voicing my opinion about his so-called "favor." 

And then today I call the court to find out about getting a ticket dismissed by taking Defensive Driving, and if I would still have to appear in court, etc.  I was told that my ticket would NOT be reported on my record, because it was less than 10 miles over the limit.  Because the officer reduced my speed, I no longer have to go to court and my insurance company will never be the wiser.

I took a perfect opportunity to be a kind, decent human being and instead treated an officer like poop.  Am I still irritated that the City of Tulsa gets $150 instead of giving me a warning?  Absolutely.  But I still wish I could have that moment back.

Officer: 1, Me: 0

Another trip home

I've made so many trips to Midland over the past 11 months that I sometimes feel like I'm still hanging on to that dusty town.  But I am thankful that it's close enough to drive down for a weekend and still feel connected to Bailey and the rest of my family and friends.  With Bailey nearing her seventh month, I want to see her as much as I can.  I've never regretted our move away from Midland, but it's sometimes hard to not be there for your daughter during her first pregnancy.

Her shower was beautiful, and Michael's family couldn't have been more welcoming.  It was odd yet comforting to be around so many people that know and love Bailey that I've never met.  As much as I would love for her to be up here or closer, she and Emma are in very good hands and probably where they need to be.  Of course, that doesn't stop me from campaigning for Tulsa every chance I get.  :-)

You talkin' to me?

It has been suggested to me from my sometimes wise oldest daughter, that based on an accumulation of events, I might be being challenged in a supernatural way.  I had actually thought this as well, but shrugged it off.  The challenge I might have been given is how am I going to start handling people who are extremely rude, way off base, you name it.  What I usually do is stand up for myself and give it right back.  It feels pretty good, even RIGHT, at least temporarily.  What I don't want to become is a pushover.  So how do you balance the two?  How do you confront someone who's being a jerk without compromising your integrity?  How do you let someone have it in a dignified manner?

I had another encounter with an asshole recently, this time at a grocery store.  I'll skip the details but will just say that I was shocked and confused.

I'm a little on edge around strangers right now, at least until I get this figured out.

The obvious does not escape me.  I realize that by sharing my stories of encounters with rude people, it starts to look like I'm the one causing these things to happen.  But I have Alan as my witness who says I'm not doing anything to instigate matters.  And Alan is as good a personal reference as any.

The latest in the "I hate my neighbors" saga

So...things have been quiet in the neighborhood for a while.  The lady diagonally to us who called the cops on our dog and then proceeded to brag about it to others doesn't come out much anymore.  I'd like to take credit for this, since I made quite an effort to make her feel uncomfortable when she did venture out, but the truth is the weather is probably what keeps her fat ass inside.

Oh wow, was that out loud?  I'm in an ugly mood.

We did not have a good Saturday morning.

In order to accommodate "those people," Duke doesn't go outside as much anymore.  He doesn't chase freely after squirrels and airplanes like the good ole' days.  But being a dog, he really needs to be out there to take care of business and bark at the occasional dog and owner walking by, carrying out his God-given dog duty of protecting his owners and their property.  It usually lasts for less than a minute.  I know this, because we kept a log for about a month and timed his barking.  That's right.  We timed our dog's barking.  We want to be courteous and accommodating to others, and we've made changes even though we hated how the neighbor handled things. 

Duke wakes up around 6:00 a.m. most mornings and is ready to go outside to water the trees.  This past Saturday morning, I let him out around 6:52 a.m.  At around 6:55, we heard him barking and IMMEDIATELY went to the back door to make him come in.  It doesn't take long to hear his bark - it's loud and you can't miss it.  Of course we wouldn't want him barking early in the morning.  So I opened the door, walked out to get him, and the neighbor directly behind us screams at me.  "SHUT YOUR G-- D--- DOG UP!"

I've never met this neighbor in the ten months we've lived here.  There's no alley separating our fences which makes things sort of intimate, yet they've never said hello.  This was my introduction.  And what a lovely man he turned out to be.

Don't expect to hear that I handled this with maturity and decorum like my husband would have.  A man whom I've never met yelled and cursed at me, and that ugly don't-you-dare-talk-crap-about-my-kids-or-my-dog side came out.  I will just say that all the yelling ended with me requesting he go directly to Hell.

Alan chose a different route and called the cops.  A very nice, very professional police officer spoke with us for a while about ways we might handle this, what our rights are, what their rights are (which it turns out are WAY better than our rights), and suggested Alan not go try to speak to this neighbor for a couple days.  Let things cool down.

It's been a couple days, and I don't feel things have cooled down.  I'm still furious.  I'm still ready for a fight.  I'm all kinds of pissed off about not being welcome in my neighborhood where we pay our mortgage, taxes, and annual HOA fees like everyone else.  And I'm really confused about feeling like a target.  Addison lives with us with her two dogs, and now she's nervous about going outside.  Is this going to blow over, or is this just the beginning of the next several years?

I know what it takes to be the bigger person and handle this with integrity, but I won't be doing that.  I know deep down it would probably make me feel all warm and fuzzy knowing I turned the other cheek.  It's not going to happen.  All I can say is...stay tuned.  I'm pretty sure this isn't over.

Help an amateur out

I'm gearing up to get in a photography mood.  Bailey has asked that I take her maternity pictures, including ones with her and Michael.  That's a lot of pressure.  I've seen some really cute maternity pics out there, so I know I'll be stealing shamelessly.  However, I don't want to get too cliche - you know how one shot gets a LOT of use, like the way you make a heart shape with your thumbs and forefingers on the pregnant belly?  Super cute but hasn't it been done a lot?  I'm probably offending someone, I'm sure.

So I'm up for any and all suggestions.  I know you have Facebook friends that have posted maternity shots, so think back and revisit their pages for me.

In the meantime, I really must get a new lens.  I'm either going ebay or brand new, but I have to get one soon.  I recently took some rather spur-of-the-moment pictures of Addison with my 55m lens, and although they turned out great, I know a new lens is a must for future portraits.  You wouldn't believe how hot and humid it was on this day...amazing that it's not noticeable.

My camera has a stabilizer and I used a tripod, but still got some pictures that weren't as clear as I wanted, like this one.  Not sure what else I should be doing:

I love this one.  I think this is the one her dad requested to have an 8 x 10 of for his home:

I like hands in pictures, in case you hadn't noticed.  It's how most of us often sit or relax, with our heads or chins resting in our hands.  I like when hair blows in the face or eyes squint when you laugh - natural stuff.  But maternity pics?  That's a new one for me.  Help!