Fading

It’s been a busy week since my last blog, maybe that’s why I’ve neglected writing (doubtful). So what’s been going on . . .
1. new bamboo floors - yeah!
2. phlebotomy adventure x2
3. Michigan can lose – but still win
4. color affects mood – what exactly affects color?
5. Olive vs The Mailbox

ONE . . . Floor installers were at our house Monday through Thursday installing bamboo upstairs (and stairs). Monday they got our master bedroom done. That was great because it made storing the other rooms’ stuff much easier. Plus they were gorgeous! But, Tuesday brought a meltdown. They face-nailed the transition boards that ran from the hallway into the middle bedroom. I realize this is standard. However, once they put that first nail in they should have realized they needed a different plan. Maybe it’s because the floors are bamboo, or maybe because we went with an even stronger/harder type of bamboo (strand woven), but the boards splintered around each nail. It looked awful. Our evening of stress and bickering was unnecessary because the next day they fixed the boards (most of them) without affecting any of the surrounding floor. The last board was patched – it looks okay. Overall the floors look great! We love them! The only one in the house who doesn’t is Zulu. He hates the stairs - though only 7yrs old even our 13yr old flies past him up them. He’s taken to standing on the landing circling and crying. I’ve seen him book up the stairs successfully only twice. Most often he hesitantly tries to go up them, only to fail and slide back down, every so often he’s more creative and amusing. If food is involved, sometimes he’ll sit and skooch up the stairs backwards on his butt – like a toddler. This method is rarely successful either. In the end, he gets carried up, and I’m getting tired of it. I think we’re going to be investing in a stair runner. I like the idea because once any amount of fur or dust settles on those steps they’re going to turn into a luge course – and not just for basenjis, but for Shannons too.

TWO . . . Recall a previous post where I complained I was tired? Well, it took me awhile, but I remembered that IS a symptom of my thyroid being off. Once I figured this out I made a doc appt which required blood work two days before. I love the lab there - compared to other labs, not a beach. I was a littler nervous when I saw a new phlebotomist though – a guy no less. I’m not being sexist. It’s just my very worst blood-draw experience ever was also with a male phlebotomist. Well, this blood-draw itself wasn’t bad. However, he tied off my arm as if the bottom half had been removed and he needed to stop the bleeding. My arm passed the throbbing mark and quickly entered intense pain. I couldn’t bend my fingers to squeeze the little stuffed heart anymore, but as I was about to begin squawking, he started the draw. I figured the worst was over. Well, had I known I was in for 3 vials I would have said something. He didn’t undo the tourniquet until he started vial three and by then my hand was blue. A week later, I still have a bruise to remind me. What don’t I have a week later though??? My results for the thyroid test! I went into the doc and they had all the results (she ran the gamut on me – which is fine) but the thyroid. The lab forgot to run it – so back to the phlebotomist. This time it was the regular woman, and she noted I apparently have small veins. I told her it was just that I offered her my “difficult” arm because my other was still bruised from two days before. She demanded to see it. Then she told me her tale of moving from lab to lab, only to be called back to that one because so many people were complaining about being bruised, etc. Ah-ha! BUT there is yet to be a happy ending to this story. I STILL have no blood results back and that implies that I will get labs in the mail with a note “looks fine.” So then – why am I still so tired?

THREE . . . I’m not a fan of football. Growing up I probably watched all the “important” games (Steelers, Penn State, and Hubbard Eagles) and then some. I also went to games – every Friday at Hubbard High, or in whichever town their away game was played. I went to practices during the summer months too; my dad was a coach. In high school I attended each week’s game, mainly just to hang out with friends. By college, I was getting annoyed, and mostly by my roommate’s terrible towel. There was yelling and stomping and priorities rearranged to see men run up and down a field, crossing numbered lines. I’ll never be a football fan, and I will never understand the obsession over a game – it’s just a game. I’ve recently heard it likened to movies or television – a form of entertainment that I shouldn’t hate. That’s fine, and if that’s how it was treated I probably wouldn’t hate it. However, there are only a small group of movie fans that re-arrange their lives around their entertainment the way football fans do. So instead of “it’s just a game” perhaps I should say “it’s just entertainment!”
Regardless, it wasn’t even until I moved to Ohio that I came to actually despise the sport, and all in all, I hate OSU far more than the sport itself. I change radio and TV stations when they talk about the Buckeyes, and I tune people out who drone on and on about them. It’s largely because OSU fans are more ridiculous than any others I’ve ever encountered. Normally that statement would be an unfair exaggeration based on a few bad apples. But the situation here in Central Ohio is a horse of a different color (ahem, that’s for you, AJ). Ohio State fans not only re-prioritize life around buckeye games, but they are also bad-mannered and destructive. This past weekend’s game is the prime example of the year – Michigan. Michigan brought its own security (or police, not sure) to protect its fans. Locally, a campus parking ban was in effect to reduce property loss because win or lose couches will be torched, cars rolled, and other general rioting activities will take place. This year was mild – only 40 people were arrested and it barely made the news.
OSU craziness is such that even our election results are affected. Results, and a possible recount, for a House seat had to wait for The Game this weekend to pass. Oh, and just in case OSU won said game (and hence made it to the National Championship) our governor’s inauguration had to be postponed too. Too bad people don’t put this much time and effort into what’s going on in their country – and the world.

FOUR . . . The color is called Cool Dip. It graced the walls of our master bedroom for at least the past five years; that is until we painted over them because our bedroom was lacking both the earth and fire elements. We like the new color too – it’s a very light pink. I so loved the color Cool Dip though, that I’ve decided to transplant it into the middle bedroom (an office/study now that the TV is dead). We painted this past weekend, and the results are disappointing. The colors do not look the same at all. The color I loved in one room sickens me in the new room. I’m not sure if the difference is because the color was over white in the master and over a darker shade of primer now? Could it be the lighting? D suggests that it’s because this room is just all painted walls – where as the other room was half painted and half wainscoting. It looks darker and greener in this room. In some places I catch a glimpse of the color I remember – in the middle of large walls where tons of natural light hits, but corners and edges are dark and minty. I’m not sure what to do. I want the color of the Caribbean! I want the color I had! I’m considering my options: 1) paint it the lighter shade in the same family 2) choose a different Caribbean-like shade of blue/green 3) do some type of glaze/faux linen finish over the top. Surely I’ll report back.

FIVE . . . After taking the week off for floor installation, and then traveling to PA for the weekend, D wanted to get to work early on Monday to start his admin day. He left the house around 6:30am after scraping the ice off both of our cars (thanks, dear!). About 15 minutes later the phone rang, and it was him. He hit an icy patch and took out a mailbox. He was fine. However, Olive’s drivers’ side door was smashed and her window shattered into his lap. He returned the bits-o-mailbox to the owner and returned home. By the time he got upstairs, he was contemplating whether that brake light that came on during is drive to/from PA had anything to do with the mishap. So we carpooled, and I got to work early yesterday, and D a little later than he’d hoped. I got a call from him around midday. He made an appt for Olive with the Jeep docs for this morning; they doubted they could fix the door & window but would take care of the brake problem – if any. Oh, and AAA was on their way, since he noticed my car’s tire was completely flat. He hoped they could patch it, but it turned out they couldn’t because of the gash in the tire (on the inside – so at least it wasn’t knifed by an anti-Starbucks cult). ;) Our cars aren’t the only things that need work – D needs to do some serious repair to his driving karma!

That’s it. Hopefully this week brings resolution for our walls & Olive.