After 1-1/2 weeks, I *finally* got a reply from a company here in town which has a Marketing position that seems pretty much tailor-made to my background. I just shot the HR Director a reply re: salary requirements, and now am crossing my fingers to get an interview.

A real job at a real company. OMG, I might actually have to (a-hem) shower before noon every day! (snicker)

…do people survive engagements when they have six months to a year to plan a wedding?

Seriously, I’m loving having a short timeframe in which to do this — otherwise it could consume one’s life!

I should mention: I think I’m going to really enjoy living here.

The cultural environment…well, let’s just say that there IS one. The weather will be pretty much no change at all. The people seem to be warm and friendly (I’ve already made one “mommy” acquaintance at a local park earlier while letting Maya blow off some steam). Hiking…well, it’s a longer drive than if I lived *in* Colorado Springs, but roughly the same (or maybe even less) as from Monument.

My townhome (feels funny to say that, too — it’s Mike’s place, but his housemate moves out the end of this month, so I’ll be here within the next month) is right next to a paved walking/biking trail, and I have visions of rollerblades and a jogging stroller. Oh, and a tether for the stroller (grin). The gal I met earlier said she thinks the trail runs by a town park, so I’ll have to investigate further. Rollerblading/letting Maya play/rollerblading again sounds like an idyllic way to pass mornings, when I often get little accomplished anyway until naptime.

Then there’s Trader Joe’s. Oh, how I love Trader Joes.

This week’s theme: There is a word for it.

dandle (DAN-dl) verb tr.

1. To bounce a child on the knees or in the arms.

2. To pamper or pet.

[Of uncertain origin.]

Today’s word in Visual Thesaurus

-Anu Garg (garg AT wordsmith.org)

“Out in the chilly Pacific air, people gossiped, drank Red Bull and vodka,
dandled babies and sat around on canvas-covered poufs in a closed parking
lot.”
Guy Trebay; Off the Wall and Off the Hook; The New York Times; Aug 11, 2006.

Hello, my name is Allison.

(Hello, Allison.)

I am an addict.

Read the rest of this entry »

…will be leaving before long.

Yesterday morning, one of my dogs bit Maya hard enough that he drew blood. I understand the circumstances (he was cleaning food off her breakfast tray, which was on the floor), and know that particular circumstance is preventable. You know, I could actually wash the tray instead of letting the dogs pre-clean it for me.

Anyway, this is the third or fourth time that he’s nipped at her, but the first time it’s been serious. (And no, it did not always involve food when he’s nipped at her.) After lots of soul-searching, I’ve decided he needs a new home. He’s been growling at Maya off and on for a while, usually just as a “get out of my space” warning. That, I think he’s entitled to, and I’ve told Maya again and again that when the doggy says “no,” she must respect that. Um, you know, a not-quite-2-year-old just doesn’t get that. ***sigh*** Now that he’s learned that biting will get him what he wants (her, out of his face), I don’t doubt that it will happen again.

There’s training we could consider. I can look at ways for her to seem “alpha” to him, so that he’ll let her in his space. I could keep them separated all the time. But the fact is, I’m a single mom who’s working at home AND taking care of a toddler — and I can’t promise to always be right there to prevent a reoccurrance. When it comes down to it, I love my dogs, but my daughter is my priority. I’d never forgive myself if the “next time” put us in the emergency room (and the dog to sleep).

He’s a young(ish) dog (almost six), and charming toward adults. (All of this made me realize that he’s *never* been good with kids — even growls at my neighbor girls.) While Maya was a baby, he adored her as the fount of all spitup. Now that she’s mobile…not so much. Within the coming weeks, my baby boy dog will be finding a new home, either with the ex-bf with whom I adopted him in the first place (he still gets visitation, LOL) or with his breeder (who would likely then place him with a child-free family). He will have a good home. But I will miss him horribly.

I’m soooo sad.

Sorry for the lack o’ posts the past couple days…my cousin (who’s really more like a sister) just had her first baby after long, long labor. Baby boy is simply beautiful, and mom and dad are well. I’m exhausted (not much sleep last night), so may not post today, but I have a few thoughts on hold for later.

See ya!

Update: I really think this is all in my head.

~~~~~

A couple months ago, I visited with my P.A. about an odd soreness in my left breast. Although he felt nothing out of the ordinary — perhaps fibrocystic tissue — he still forwarded me on for a mammogram. After all, I was hitting 35 in a few short months, so we might as well do it. Tell me how pleasant *that* experience was. After two basic shots on the right and more detailed shots on the left, the tech called me back for additional shots on the right. Then, they ultrasounded the left, in the area where I’d been feeling pain.

In the end, I was told that everything was fine.

I still hurt. If both sides hurt in the same way, or if this were a cyclic/monthly thing, I wouldn’t think much about it. Instead, it’s a stabbing pain that almost feels like it radiates from the lower side, underneath at the chest wall, and only on the left.

Within the past couple weeks, an acquaintance forwarded me some information on Inflammatory Breast Cancer, a very different (and aggressive) form that doesn’t show with lumps…and 85% of the time doesn’t show in mammograms. I’m unsure about its visibility in ultrasound (guess I should look that up). I’m fixating now. I finally viewed the video link she sent yesterday, and now each time I feel the pain on my left side, I wonder.

I’m an adult here. I can be realistic. When I look at the signs and symptoms, the only thing I’m experiencing is the tenderness/pain plus a nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right. But, then again, what I read says that pain is usually a first symptom, and other symptoms are often absent until the condition is rather advanced.

This is just neurosis, and I know it…at least I hope it is. I’m probably just searching for some way, any way, to put off getting stuff done.

That’s all…just needed to get this out of my head so I can focus on work instead.

~~~~~

As a PSA (or maybe just so that you can join me in my hypochondria), here’s the video. I had no idea this form of cancer even existed.

Windows Media Player required to view this.
To install, click here.

Here’s a link to the original KOMO/Seattle news story. If you need/want the code to embed the video in your blog, drop me a comment.

Why is it that 30 felt like nothing — no different, no older, nada — but 35 feels so momentous? Beats the hell outta me.

My birthday wish is that, if you’re lurking, you delurk for a minute and tell me who you are, how you got here, and why you stop by. Yes, you heard me. For my birthday, I’m playing comment whore.

So, what do you think — is it okay to self-medicate if you’re doing it intentionally?

A little background: Before my initial “real” diagnosis with depression, and even a bit afterward (even until I began counseling), I had a propensity to drink a smidge more than is generally considered a good idea. This decreased significantly after I started taking anti-depressant medication (late 2001), and pretty well vanished after I dove into counseling (mid 2003). Drinking makes perfect sense in retrospect; depression would often present for me in the form of anxiety, and a drink (or five) took the edge off. Heck, I was even an affable drunk on most ocassions when I imbibed liberally. For various reasons, I needed a little “help” relaxing in social situations, and booze was just the ticket. As a nice irony, I was sober the night I conceived Maya. Buzzed, at the very most — but closer to sober.

Anyway, not wanting to go deep here. I’m just saying, I’m sipping on a Diet Dr. Pepper with a shot or so of Captain Morgan’s in it, and it’s…nice. (I’m normally a wine-and-dark-beer kind of girl, but the rum/DP combo has some familiar happy memories.) There’s also a pint of B&J “Dublin Mudslide” sitting in my freezer. Oh, and I’m cooking. While some people go right off food when they’re depressed, I use it as comfort.

Cooking was the whole point for this post. With my current shut-in sort of life, I am inclined to eat out often. It’s not that I’m a clutz in the kitchen; au contraire. After I moved to Colorado, I so missed the restaurant culture of Houston that I found myself frantically trying to recreate various dishes from my former favorite spots. These days, I eat out because I simply *need* to be around people. It doesn’t even matter that I’m not with them and talking to them — we ate at (Big Italian Chain) the other night, and I thoroughly enjoyed the raucous laughter from the foursome at the table one over. Maya enjoys it too, and flirts with anyone who’ll give her attention. She is her mama’s child.

But I miss cooking. Living alone, I just don’t feel inspired to cook and try out new ideas. I hope that when I return to a life beyond working at home that I’ll cherish my at-home time and actually enjoy indulging this domestic goddess side of myself. Perhaps I’ll even gain an audience someday.

Tonight’s Fare: Chicken and Vegetables with Coconut-Curry Peanut Sauce

The base for this sauce is a peanut sauce (for sate’) shamelessly lifted from Gourmet, circa 1992 (but I found it via Epicurious.com). To make it “mine,” I added the coconut milk and a generous helping of red curry. YUM. It’s close to, but not quite, a copy of the Mussamun sauce I so adored back at Patu in Houston’s Rice Village. If my grocery stores had the courtesy to carry actual red curry PASTE, it would be even better — but one had only green paste, and the other had no paste at all, only red curry powder. Ingrates. I opted for the powder.

As a matter of practice, add “ish” to any of my measurements that aren’t pre-set (ie, cans). I’m that kind of a chef.

- 1 cup creamy peanut butter
- 1 can (14oz) chicken stock
- 2 Tbsp minced ginger
- 2-1/2 Tbsp soy (I prefer tamari)
- 1/3 cup (plus a little; the limes were juicy) freshly squeezed lime juice
- 3 Tbsp brown sugar
- 1 can coconut milk
- 2 Tbsp red curry powder (if using paste, I think 1T would be perfect.)

Slowly warm first six ingredients until well blended, and warm to a bubble. Add coconut milk and curry, stir well, and simmer for long enough for all the flavors to meet, greet, and exchange business cards.

Stir fry whatever you happen to fancy. Blend a bit of sauce into the pan. Serve over rice, or not, whatever your preference.

Makes: Looking at my 2-1/2 quart sauce pan, it’s about 1/3 to 1/2 full. Yes, I’m an “ish” girl.