Whiny McPoutypants

It was raining this morning, a rarity in Southern California even in December. I wanted nothing more than to stay curled up in bed, but Kevin had already gotten up so it was pointless. Besides, we really did fulfill our laziness factor this weekend. Levels of sloth never before imagined were achieved. We literally did nothing but eat and sleep on Saturday. (And I wonder why none of my jeans fit right anymore.)

Physical therapy continues apace, and it pretty much sucks despite the fact that I have fantastic therapists and the office is actually modern and clean and kept up. But the niceness of the therapists does nothing to make my wrist hurt any less while I'm doing my stupid exercises. I've been pushing myself to show some good improvement every time I show up, since I will forever be a teacher's pet and love to hear them go on about how well I'm doing and how they can't believe I've already gotten my suppination up from 18 degrees to 60 degrees. We had a scar contest the last time we were there, to see who has the biggest surgery scar. I won, but only because the guy with the massive elbow reconstruction had already gone home.

I keep being reminded of how bad this break really was. On a different therapy day, a little old woman who had also broken her wrist was sitting next to me chit chatting as we did our respective exercises, and when she caught a glimpse of my scar, she kind of gasped and said "My dear, that's a huge scar! What did they have to do to you?" So I explained once again about how I broke off a big chunk of the end of my radius and they had to shove it back into place and hold it there with a plate full of pins and screws. Then my therapist mentioned that hey, I'd also had a hairline fracture in my ulna too (which was news to me...apparently they figured it would heal along with everything else so they never really mentioned it to me).

Really, I lucked out...this whole thing could have been a lot worse. My job was totally supportive of me while I was out, and my worker's comp and disability payments were enough to keep all of our bills paid so we never had to stress about money. My husband stepped up to take care of me incredibly well, and he did it by himself without help from anyone else. But damn, I'm sick of this whole mess. I'm tired of wearing this big clunky stupid brace, I'm tired of not being able to lift things or wash dishes or just live my life normally. The fact that I'll probably be dealing with this for another 2-3 months is not helping matters.

I guess my message here is to not be clumsy and to watch where you're stepping. I've proven (not once but twice now!) that your whole life can change for months at a time when you're just walking along thinking about your latest to do list. And it sucks, mightily.

Holidailies Recipe Swap: My Mom's Awesome Pumpkin Cookies

The injured wrist has greatly impeded my Christmas efforts this year. The only decorations that made it up are the tree, the fake mistletoe and the ceramic Christmas boot painted by my mother-in-law which is filled to overflowing with fake poinsettias. On top of that, there has been no baking done this year, much to the dismay (and relief, at least for the dieters) of my coworkers who usually reap the benefits of my holiday baking frenzies.

Every year I try to add some new cookies to my repertoire, but there's one cookie I always bake: my mom's pumpkin cookies. They're simple, the recipe makes a bunch of cookies, and man are they tasty. They're so very awesome that I'm sharing the recipe so that I can spread the joy. I'm hoping to make a batch tomorrow night, because it's just not Christmas without at least one batch in my oven.

Important Notes:

• Choice of nuts is up to the baker; I prefer pecans, but they're good with walnuts as well. They should be somewhat finely chopped but not diced.
• If you want to cut calories, you can substitute 3/4 cup of Splenda Blend for Baking in place of the sugar. They turn out exactly the same.
• I've made these with just chocolate chips and with just nuts; either way is still awesome.
• These are a somewhat moist, sort of cake-like cookie. They don't spread much and don't brown much, so be careful of overbaking.

Ingredients:
1/2 c. unsalted butter
1 1/2 c. granulated sugar
1 egg
1 c. pumpkin (I use canned; be sure to get the plain pumpkin, NOT pie-flavored pumpkin)
1 t. vanilla (spring for the real stuff; it makes a difference)
2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1 t. nutmeg
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 c. chopped nuts
1 c. semi-sweet chocolate pieces

Recipe:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
   
2. Using hand or stand mixer, cream butter & sugar together until light and fluffy.
3. Add egg, pumpkin and vanilla to butter mixture; beat well.
4. In separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, nutmeg and cinnamon.
5. Add dry ingredients to the creamed mixture and mix well.
6. Add nuts and chocolate pieces, stir in with wooden spoon and mix well.
7. Drop by teaspoon onto well-greased cookie sheets (I use Pam).
8. Bake for 15 minutes; cool on racks.

Cookies can be stored for at least a week in an airtight container. The recipe makes 6 dozen if you stick to the teaspoon measurement but I usually end up with 4 dozen slightly larger ones. They're great for sharing but be sure to keep some for yourself!

Shortcut!

Since I've been swamped this week and am running late for work, where I have to help organize the annual holiday potluck/gift exchange, you get a meme.

Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? I only like my eggnog cold, so hot chocolate.

Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? All presents go under the tree. Abbie likes to use them to rest her head on when she sleeps under the tree.

Colored lights on tree/house or white? White. It's easier to decoratearound just white.

Do you hang mistletoe? Not real mistletoe; I have cats who like to chew on things so instead I have a cheesy plastic ball o' mistletoe.

When do you put your decorations up? First weekend in december.

What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Pink salad, of course.

Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Trips to Disneyland on the holidays were awesome.

When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? My aunt blew it for me when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade by asking Jackie where she got one of Santa's presents to my mom.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Sometimes. Usually just cards.

How do you decorate your Christmas tree? With a lot of random ornaments that I've collected over the years.

Snow? Nope.

Can you ice skate? Yes, but not this year.

Do you remember your favorite gift? The saddle my mom gave me back when I was riding horses competitively.

What’s the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Family, friends, and lots of fun.

What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? Pecan pie.

What is your favorite holiday tradition? Date night on Christmas Eve with Kevin.

What tops your tree? A tiny plastic angel

Which do you prefer: Giving or Receiving? Giving.

What is your favorite Christmas Song? Santa Baby, sung by Earth Kitt

Candy Canes ...are best when used to stir hot chocolate.

Yes, you should

I have accomplished the nearly impossible.

I have finished and mailed all 130 of the Christmas cards I sent this year. (And envelope glue still tastes really nasty.)

Among those cards were a few that held the distinction of being Should I cards. You know the ones I'm talking about. They're the ones that you send to people who you haven't talked to in ages, the ones you send to people who you've maybe had an argument with or who have done something that hurt your feelings. You'll be flipping through your address book and you'll see the name of one of those people and you'll wonder "Should I send them a card? Will they read it or just throw it away? Do I want to get back in touch with them or should I just let things be?"

Those Should I cards are a tricky thing. Sometimes it's a family member who's been out of touch, but you feel like you should send one even though you don't particularly like the person because if you don't one of your parents will have something to say about it. Or maybe it's someone who you're not sure you're still friends with, since they haven't been returning your calls and maybe things were a little strained the last time you talked because you don't have as much in common anymore. So you hand pauses over the envelopes you're addressing as you wonder.

"Should I?"

I had a few of those this year. Family members who hurt us with their passive aggressive misbehaviors. A friend who RSVP'd for the wedding but then never showed up, a friend I haven't heard from in any way shape or form since then but who's got a habit of dropping contact when she is embarrassed about her own behavior. Another friend who I had an angry, bitter, hurtful falling out with a few months ago but who still floats through my mind from time to time because there were more good memories than bad before that falling out.

And when I asked myself "Should I?", I answered yes, to all of them. They may be thrown away without being opened, but I feel better for having made the effort. It's a simple thing, the sending of a card during the holidays. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that life is too short. If people matter to you even a little bit, the answer should always be yes, you should. And that's why I hope my Should I cards don't get tossed into the trash with the junkmail.

Who knows, you may start rebuilding a burned bridge for nothing more than the cost of a stamp.

So many shoulds

I should be doing a lot of things right now.

I should be balancing the checkbook and paying bills so that I can finish the Christmas shopping this week. And I should also be going through this gigantic pile of bills and other mail that needs to be sorted and filed so that I can get control of the desk sooner rather than later.

I should also be working on my stacks of Christmas cards that still need to go out(I signed up for my usual two exhange lists again, putting the total to get out somewhere around 120). I'll probably have a few left after it's all said and done since I always over order, so let me knowif you want one; all I need is an address!

I should maybe be checking out my closet to figure out what I'm going to wear to work tomorrow. I'll only be working 4 hours a day for the next month, but hey, I've still got an iamge to maintain.

I should be doing an awful lot of things, but really, I probably won't do much of any of it, because there's a chill in the air, an empty apartment, two cats waiting to cuddle up on the couch with me while I watch episode after episode of Nip/Tuck on DVD and a couple of overly frosted cupcakes waiting for me courtesy of my friend.

Hmm. Maybe I should get started on that last bit right now.

All Breakdowned Out

There are times when my only answer to a situation is to get hysterical. This afternoon was one of those. I think I scared the worker's comp guy this afternoon, what with my screeching and wailing and borderline hollering about how utterly absurd and frustrating their approval process for a freaking orthotic splint is.

Fucking beauracracy. They have to have a separate middle man company shop around for the best price, even though in the end they will most likely go ahead and have my occupational therapists do it since they are in the damn worker's comp medical network. And for some reason, this process takes 3-4 days. In the meantime, I'm in a temporary splint that is not A) the most comfortable thing or B) most easy thing to work around. And I'm going back to work on Monday.

And don't even get me started on the whole going back to work thing. I feel like the new kid in school since my visit there yesterday revealed that a coworker/subordinate has been talking shit about me to cover for her own shortcomings. There are many, many things I could say here but I'm trying hard to let it go. My boss still loves me, the other senior admin seemed happy to hear I was coming back, and all will be right with the world as soon as I get back to my office. Doesn't mean I'm not still totally pissed off about the whole thing.

So tonight, it's comfort food and booze and spending money online. It's better than crying anymore, because I'm all breakdowned out.

Because yes, I'm a wimp

It's no secret to the people who know us that Kevin and I are planning on moving out of California sometime within the next 5-7 years. Neither of us has lived outside of the state since we were born, and I've never lived farther north than Los Angeles. We want to live somewhere with actual seasons at some point in our lives.

Right now the two top contenders on our Places To Move list are Wisconsin (probably Madison) and Georgia (probably outside Atlanta somewhere). We've been to Wisconsin and we like Wisconsin. We have friends in Wisconsin and we'd still be close enough to Chicago for me to get my big city fix but with enough space to satisfy my husband's craving for less people. On the other hand, we have family in Georgia; my Most Awesome Aunt & Uncle are there, along with their kids and grandkids. Our company has tons of offices in the state, so it'd be easy to transfer. We've been there, and Kevin has declared Georgia acceptable.

Lately, it's been a pretty neck and neck race between the two states. Compared to California, it's worlds cheaper to live in either of them, we're familiar with both of them and we know people in both of them.

But then today I saw this:

Temps rise in storm-stricken Midwest
...and I have to say, I think Georgia just eeked a little bit forward in the polls.

(But don't tell my husband, because I think he's already dreaming of white Christmases.)

Doctor, doctor, gimme the news

Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment, but for once it wasn't for my wrist. This time I was there to meet my new Everything Doctor, and luckily for me, she's fantastic. It's really amazing to me to have good doctors who actually listen to me when I talk and don't just blame every little thing on my weight. I mean seriously, my coughs do not happen because I'm fat, despite what my old doctor seemed to believe.

Of course, we did talk about my weight (and my sexual history because it was also Time For A Girly Parts Exam). I can't deny that my weight's an issue for me, and since I've managed to gain back everything I lost (and then some) it's time to take some more drastic actions. She was totally behind it (weight management is one of her areas of expertise) and gave me a referral to my healthcare group's weight management people. So before I left, she says that hey, let's go ahead and do an EKG and a whole bunch of blood work because the weight management group is going to want that info.

You'll be happy to know that the EKG showed that my heart beats with a totally normal rhythm and rate. What I was not happy to find out was that she requested to much bloodwork that they had to take SIX vials of blood from me. SIX! Man, I might as well have given blood while I was at it.

The worst part was that she also requested a urinalysis. There is nothing I hate more than peeing in a cup. There is no way in hell for me to pee into a 2 inch wide cup without peeing all over myself in the process. I don't usually wish I was a man because I happen to really like being a woman, but when they want me to pee in a cup all I can do is think "Man, this would be easier if I had a penis."

This experience was even worse than usual, since not only was the cup a teeny tiny one, the bathroom was totally awkward. It had obviously been retrofitted to meet federal ADA guidelines, and it was obvious that they had done the very least necessary. The toliet was crammed into the corner, with the handicapped railing sticking out sort of over the toilet seat. So I crammed myself in and realized that I didn't have room to manuever the cup down into position for the attempt at pee catching. I had to sit sort of sideways on the seat, and sure enough, peed all over my hand.

Have you ever tried to thoroughly wash your hands with a cast on one of them? Nearly impossible, but I somehow managed it because ew, pee covered hand! Ew! So I got that all cleaned up and opened the little cabinet where they have you leave your cup only to discover that it was already pretty full. Apparently, whichever tech was supposed to be collecting the pee cups that day was totally slacking, because they were actually stacked on top of each other. And it's not like it was locked or anything. If someone needed some pee to use to pass a drug test, it would have been really easy for someone to just come on by and steal some.

As icked out as I was, I have to admit that I was kind of proud that my cup was pretty much full, unlike the vast majority of the cups in there. Slackers.

So here's hoping that all the blood work comes back normal, eh? I'd hate to find out I was dying right before Christmas.