Musty Sweater Woes...

I'm almost ready to write today off as a total loss...

Shall we begin?

The sirens started as soon as night fell...along with the first REAL rain we've had this season. I don't think I had more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

By 3:30 AM I had a pounding sinus headache since, as quickly and harshly the rain poured down, so it vanished....sucking up all the moisture it brought and making my internal barometer pop.

If you take the sudafed/advil cocktail my doc recommended all the way back in Hawai'i-time? You do not sleep. Must make note of that...but it was be awake and nauseous and wanting to die at 3:40 ish AM...or be awake an nauseous and full of sudafed and advil at 3:40 ish AM. Good times, 'round these parts.

When on these painkillers and anti-sinus stuff, I usually eat. Empty stomach = bad times...but at before 4 AM? I didn't...so surprise surprise, I was so not hungry that I forced myself to eat a banana as I was packing my lunch of cheese and crackers and a yummy vanilla yogurt I just recently discovered, oh and the last bit of a WAY TOO EXPENSIVE mango (I couldn't resist...a guilty pleasure I will not give up, sorry)...and I describe this all in detail because I'm thinking about it right now...because as I pulled into work I realized that yes, of course...my lunch is still on the counter because HELLO, no sleep and sudafed and headache that really didn't go all away with the piddly amount of ibuprophen that exists in OTC bottles...and I just about cried.

Except I'm a big girl and whatevers, it'll still be there when I get home...all warm and nasty...sigh.

But that wasn't even the topper of the day...oh noes...not that...the camel's back was still in one piece. What has me ready to pack up and go home? My sweater...

How do I even start? I'm cold. I'm still wearing my scarf, and I am having chills that really mean that I'm starting to come down with something real and big and awful...which I am ignoring just now as I have a pile of work that needs processing before tomorrow....

So to stave off the cold I pulled out my wee little cotton cardi/sweater that I live in during the summer as the office temps do what office temps do...which I packed in my bag yesterday AM knowing I'd probably need it at the 7:30 AM tax briefing I attended in downtown Seattle. But didn't...which stayed in my bag through the horrific downpour as I waited at the bus stop for my trek home...and did not come out once I got home as I needed to hang up what I was wearing and put on lots of things with "wool" or "fleece" in their labels as I was really rather chilled...

So it should not surprise all that much when I pulled it out and if felt kinda damp...and smells kinda musty...and I feel like that character in Sandra Cisnero's short story "Eleven" who has to put on that musty dirty evil-smelling red sweater that is not hers...

Defeated.

At least it's not my birthday, I suppose.

However, I am pulling the wuss card today and going home as soon as I can see desktop. I will be so less than useless once the caffeine and anti-inflammatories and the...um whatever Sudafed does for you, wear out.

Some More Images...

But this time ones you can see:
I went outside to water my dying tomato plants...yes, I have tomato plants! No, not at all worth taking a picture of them as they are all very droopy and the thought of maybe it's too damned cold to grow tomato plants in Seattle might have crossed my mind at one point but yeah, whatevers a girl's gotta try....and the scene before me was occurring at the courthouse across the street.
They're filming a speech...I think. Or maybe protesting a speaker? (One of the signs say's "you lie.") Anyone in the know, know? Cuz I am not so cool.
And this dude, and the ones all around the "scene" are why I'm not going down to ask, or even ponder the fact that I might own a bright red shirt that I can paste white letters that spell "crew" so I could get real close and nosey.

Anywho, that's my big excitement for this Saturday morning.

Not to steal Andy's thunder with the possible loaded guns right outside my building or anything...but shortly before taking the above shots, I helped him get going on his motorcycle-to-northern-cali adventure (tm).

He's twittering his trip and opened up his twitter-thingie so I wouldn't have to create an account in order to see if he's still alive later today. I super appreciate these little things, doncha know.

I totally feel like the mom seeing their kid off on um, well, some super dangerous adventure. But having had a few? (When you are on a 32 foot sailboat down in ol'mejico with an X like mine? There was no avoiding super-dangerous-you-mean-we-didn't-die style adventures.) I think everyone should try something similar at least once. And by super dangerous I mean whatever makes you get out of your comfort zone. Whether it be car camping or finding yourself in a Suzuki Samurai with an ex-con drug dealer in Baja Cali, it makes for some great after-dinner stories... Or as an old friend calls them, "No shit, there I was" tales.

The Image That Has Stayed With Me All Day...

The very very very pregnant bus rider (over nine months...I know because she's a regular bus rider, and a regular bus-phone talker, and yeah, I overheard her say so) listening to the very very very LOUD and always angry, Rage Against the Machine.

Happy Monday.

It's because I'm not 100%...

Or maybe because the latest evolution/incarnation/version of me wears her heart on her sleeve?

It's the bus again...As a creature of habit, I sit on the left side of the bus in the section of seats that face one another, as close to the driver as I can get. I've always done this, everywhere, every time. In Mexico this was the bestest place to sit (facing forward) right behind the driver because you got to share in his fan on the super hot muggy humid days.

Anyhow, the other day when all the seats on the left were taken, I grudgingly sat on the right side and though it affords you a wonderful view of Seattle Pacific University, you also get a view of all the sailboats off the Ballard Bridge. The first time I saw them I was amazed at how huge the area off the Ballard bridge really is, all those boats....all those people who might be getting ready to set sail, or are visiting, or just came back from an adventure...and it depressed me to no end.

Seeing as I was in the midst of all the broken hip/pain nonsense, my mood was thrashed.

This morning the bus was once again left-side full, so I sat on the right side and focused intently on my sock's toe so I would miss the whole boat show...except instead of driving into the brilliant sunlight and amazing vistas...we drove into the fog.

When on the bridge? You could barely see anything beyond the windows. It was as if we had driven into the set for the latest Stephen King movie.

You've no idea how happy that made me...

Except...now that I'm not drowning in the worry, whines, and utter depression of limping around for the rest of my life and simply fighting off silly little things like sinus infections and the coming swine plague...I'm curious to know if I can stand the view...

So Out Of it Today That...

...I went to put my key fob in my "cargo" pocket and couldn't find it...the pocket, not the fob.

It actually took me several minutes of searching and looking at one pant leg and then another and thinking these pants looked a little darker and maybe fell a little lower on my ankle than I thought they did before I realized that I am not wearing the pants I thought I'd put on this morning.

I think we can safely say that it is a very good thing I did not drive in today as I am obviously coming down with something that would have made driving home quite a dangerous thing. Instead we'll see if I can focus enough to disembark at the correct stop, because really, you do not want me processing payments in this state of mind.

This would be one of those times that I really really really wish I could could call a parent to have them take me home. Being an adult sucks so hard sometimes.

Building Thigh Muscles through Bus Riding

So, since we moved to a more bus-friendly zone I've been taking Seattle Metro (RTD for you LA-ers) to work.

Riding the bus is the bomb for such things as catching up on reading, knitting, and leg workouts. Especially if you are reading or knitting during your commute. See, and of course I don't have a picture because I get stared at enough when I pull out my latest project at too-early-to-be-knitting-anything-but-stockingette AM. But there are BIG new signs all over the Metro buses since my last foray into public transport for work:

HOLD ON WHEN THE BUS IS MOVING!

Seriously? I mean, see, I'm not a public transportation novice. I've done my time on RTD, Santa Cruz Metro, the UCSC shuttles, and let us not forget the multiple vehicles (at times the term used super loosely) associated with transporting the public all over Mexico and um, holding on when the bus is moving? Do we really need this sign?

After my first trip home on the #17? Why yes, yes we do. I don't know what transpired since my last regular bus-to-work schedule, but I swear, some drivers are taking cues from the sidewalk jumping UCSC shuttle drivers and the amphetamine driven bus drivers in Mexico. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to ride a horse while trying to do something like shoot a bow and arrow? (This is why stirrups won wars.) Well, if I continue to commute the way I have been, I'll soon have developed my thigh muscles enough to attempt such a feat.

No really.

My current method is to kinda wedge myself in my seat and use my legs to balance myself as I knit (reading in these conditions would make me nauseous) as we get tossed and bumped and jostled. Before anyone says anything, yes, I agree, this is probably none-too-good for my hip. But I find that driving using my damaged leg? Also not good. The extra stress I get that requires me to listen to Nine Inch Nails at full volume so I don't do something rash? Yep, makes taking the bus a miiiiillion times better for me.

My only problem of late is having something small and simple enough to work on while on the real life "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride."
I was working on this red scarf...but it's officially too hard to keep it from touching places on the bus that probably haven't been cleaned since...well...ever.

So I've been working on socks for my mom...which I haven't taken a picture of. Of course. I did want to share the fact that I started them the Friday before Labor Day and by that Tuesday (or was it Wednesday) afternoon bus ride? I was kitchnering the first one. Yes, on the bus...traffic you see. I've slowed down a bit...this last weekend was not really a good knitting weekend, but I'm on the foot of the second sock already. Yes, we're taking almost a full pair of socks in less than two weeks and NO contest or sock madness or devil breathing down my neck or ANYTHING. I KNOW! Odd! But apparently not odd enough for me to take a picture.

Soon, though, maybe of the finished pair.

No, I haven't given up on the sweater or anything, but if I thought keeping the scarf clean and well organized was hard enough? Multiple sleeves? Not gonna happen while building up those thigh muscles. I'm just not that coordinated.

And How are Your Joints Doing?

So a coworker with whom I practice my espagniol and I have made a promise that the next time we meet, we will not sound like little old ladies complaining about their lumbago. Seriously, we're too young to spend our Monday mornings griping about my hip, her knees...when did this happen?!?

Therefor, no more. Although it did give me lots of practice in using "cadera" and "tendon de la um patela." I'll just have to practice those descriptions with my supervisor. Who is even younger. And does not understand this whole thing about adults riding bicycles or anyone doing "sport" not-professionally (i.e. my 6 years of NCAA amateur (non-paying) college fencing level stint in my 20s). But Spanish is Spanish, and lords know, the longer I am away from my family and friends in Mexico, the more my second-language speaking ability suffers. I still understand everything everyone tells me, but switching into thinking in Spanish actually becomes something conscious, and hard to do!

And people wonder why I spend the big bucks on poorly printed low quality mass media books written (or translated, I'm not that picky) into Spanish.

In other news? Well, I have some good news.

My knee is officially off the torn-patella-watch-2009 list. The swelling is almost gone and I have full mobility with no cramping, spasms, tickles or pain--except when going down the stairs, but that's another issue. Although my scar is hurting...the little moon-shaped sliver that is all I have to prove that I even had a bike accident? (Aside from the hip "bump.")

It's not the stabbing pain as described by JKR in the HP books, but the sensation is a little electrical in nature. And I can definitely feel it as it scrapes against denim, if I wear jeans. Which I don't do all that often thanks to work clothes and, well, my hip bump. That lovely lady lump? Yeah, it complains if constricted. So unless I wear my over-sized (yey for the weight loss that has stayed lost) too baggy to look anything less than grandma-ish jeans, I don't even feel the scar.

But the hip...or rather, my leg...I feel like it's floating in and out of where it's supposed to be. If I walk too far, it still swells up. Ice and OTC ibuprofen are my friends. But I've gotten to the point where I don't want anymore profens of any kind in my system. How will I cope with a migraine or even menstrual cramps if my body is so used to having the stuff in its system that I either have to take more (good-bye stomach lining, hello ulcer) or have to get something stronger (so long, liver, nice to know you)...neither of which sound all that appealing.

So...I'm dropping it and experimenting with fish oil instead.

I've been taking my fish oil capsule every morning with my coffee...I know, I am horrible, dare I add that I also only take chewable multi-vitamins (this explains the Flintstones vitamins in the fridge). Recently in one of those BoingBoing links I read that if you take fish oil before bed, it would help you sleep better. So I take another capsule before bed now, when I remember. Now I've been reading about the anti-inflammatory properties of Omega3 fish oils...and reading the dosage suggestions on the bottle...it seems I've been remiss, it actually suggests three a day (one with every meal, which reduces that whole fishy-burp thing, but only a little).

Well...I'm all for better living through chemistry, I will never again turn down a muscle relaxer ("Try four!"*) if the need should be as great as it was a couple weeks ago, but if I can achieve, um, "swell-control" with fish oil? Dude, I am so there.

So if you've read this far, I reward you with a picture of the space needle taking flight, or maybe it was landing...either way, it amused me (you might have to click for big to get a good look):

* Sixteen Candles reference...after having experienced what taking one is like? The entire wedding sequence is ridiculously accurate.