I was the shadow of the waxwing slain

A rundown on Sarah Palin: http://www.politico.com/static/PPM106_palin_doc.html

It's late August; my cousin starts HS again this week. Schools are starting all over. Some of the trees (sycamores, primarily) are starting to color, and the mornings are pleasant and lovely.

The days are still hopelessly hot, of course.

Yesterday we went to the Hunterdon County Agri Fair, which was nifty. WAY bigger than the Somerset one. Rides, loads of vendors, loads of fair food. Goats and sheep and some of the biggest cows I've ever seen (easily 17hh, if we measure cows in hands) - and all tied in on the rail, so I was actually a bit nervous walking the aisle well within kicking distance. A cow had calved a few days earlier, and her baby was passed out in a stall made of haybales, signs all over saying, "DO NOT DISTURB". A few goat kids, and of course a whole slew of chicks.

My mom and I came home from the store Saturday to find a large tree limb on our roof, my dad walking around with a saw. "You could've waited!" we shouted when we got out of the car, miffed that the gutter was dented and the siding was pocked. "Yeah," he said. "I was sitting in the driveway, weeding, when I hear this crack, look up, and there's a tree."

We had this maple, see. It was sick - a tree doc came out and said it was irreparable, which was sad, so we left it to chug along, losing more and more branches every year. Well, a rather large part of the trunk just gave out yesterday, and since then my dad and his brother have been taking it down. Ultimately, when all the limbs were down and the trunk was bare, you could see some really fascinating botany-things going on. There's a dark wiggly line going through much of the trunk - the line of the fungus that killed the tree. On the diseased side, the trunk next to the bark was spongy and brittle. Not even a third of the trunk was alive now - a weak line of sap oozed out of the remaining healthy third of the trunk, but it was obviously a losing battle. Soon there'll be pictures from the demo - my cousin got a great video of one of the larger limbs coming loose and careening towards my uncle.

So we are making chicken tonight (btw - as you can see, I am currently off vegetarian. It feels incredibly bizarre, and I'm still not 100% on board with this meat thing, but I did it because I've been getting more and more into cooking, and wanted to be able to have a wider range of experience), and um.

When I started cooking fish, I thought nothing could possibly be a more bizarre feeling than, you know, fish. But I've gotten relatively used to it, and really don't mind it much.

But um.

There is nothing more repugnant than the feel of raw chicken breasts. I MEAN. D:

I started the One Hundred Push Ups thing.

The problem is, I can't remember from day to day what my numbers are supposed to be! D:

Did anyone (other than me) read this?

What.

Medicine changes are the worst.

This is my first real medicine change where I'm fully off one and on another - normally I always had a backup going on in the background, keeping things humming smoothly.

Now, my anxiety is getting better, but every day I get less Effexor I get more depressed.

Luckily, it's not a serious thing yet. At worst, it's been overemotional reactions to fairly straightforward issues. But being adrift in mental health is always a little scary, because it's becoming apparent how necessary my old medicine was.

Well. I'm sure it'll get sorted soon!

I am watching "Juno."

...

THIS MOVIE IS TERRIBLE.

The dialogue is horribly stilted and the plot is ridiculous and the entire movie is TRYING TOO HARD to be LOLEDGY.

I leave you with this BRILLIANT exchange. This was my clue to turn it off and run far away.

Leah: Yo Yo Yiggady Yo.
Juno MacGuff: I'm at suicide risk.
Leah: Juno?
Juno MacGuff: No, it's Morgan Freeman. Do you have any bones that need collecting?
Leah: Only the one in my pants...
Juno MacGuff: I'm pregnant.
Leah: What? Honest to blog?
Juno MacGuff: Yeah. Yeah, it's Bleekers.
Leah: It's probably just a food baby. Did you have a big lunch?
Juno MacGuff: No, this is not a food baby all right? I've taken like three pregnancy tests, and I'm forshizz up the spout.
Leah: How did you even generate enough pee for three pregnancy tests? That's amazing...
Juno MacGuff: I don't know, I drank like, ten tons of Sunny D... Anyway dude, I'm telling you I'm pregnant and you're acting shockingly cavalier.
Leah: Is this for real? Like, for real for real?
Juno MacGuff: Unfortunately, yes.
Leah: Oh my GOD. Oh shit! Phuket, Thailand!
Juno MacGuff: There we go. That was kind of the emotion that I was searching for on the first take.

>:(

I have, of course, been largely reading comics, of varying nationality.

( FreakAngels )

( Bleach )

( Doubt )

( LOL LIFETIME MOVIE )

For the past week, my stomach has been trying to escape out my mouth.

This makes it very hard to play the withdrawal game.

But, full week with no panic attacks, \o/

This week's attempt at exercise is pretty much made of fail. But that's because either my stomach acid is off kilter again or peanut butter is making me ill.

Tomorrow is back to the psych! I am frustrated, as I was supposed to get a blood test but he put a date on it and didn't discuss the date with me, so I made an appt that was totes not allowed. Also, since I last saw him I have had quite a few major panic attacks, a few minor ones, and been brought near tears by minor discomforts, so methinks some stronger meds are in order.

Also I need his approval to start dismantling my old Effexor.

Why Kids Get Pregnant.

I heard this once, on NPR, and it was one of those driveway moments they talk about. I was screaming at the girl as I drove to work, yelling at her and telling her how wrong she was.

But what it really did was open my eyes. I'd never had any clue why teenage girls might not just become pregnant, but want to be. I had no idea that the problem wasn't stupid choices, or lack of sex ed, but sometimes a deep, profound yearning for something concrete, something tangible. It broke my heart and gave me a lot of hope.

I think, knowing this story, changed a lot of my perspectives. And today, when the news reports that 17 girls promised each other to get pregnant, when assholes use it to say that women, or girls, or Americans, are fundamentally wrong, I turn back to this piece.

I find it really funny that, at the same time as Britain extends their right to hold terror suspects without charge, our Supreme Court strikes down that same argument we've been touting for six years.

*dances on the Bush administration's grave*

"It's not a good day when there's something in your penis." - my dad, his stoicism.

He's doing quite well, catheter notwithstanding. The incisions look downright vile, but clean enough. He's not as stiff or sore anymore. The biggest problem, truly, is the catheter. He's adopted the pregnant lady walk.

New Doubt!

( Spoilers for Doubt 11 )

So!

The surgery went long. Originally, I was going to go to Morristown after work and my mom and I would have dinner then see my dad when he was up. I got to Morristown at 5:30, and he was still in surgery, last update 4pm. He'd gone in an hour early, and he was supposed (lol in our minds) to be out around 5. So I sat with mom and kept her company/upbeatish until 7 when the doctors came out.

Initial diagnosis: The surgery went well. Approximately five hours. The prostate cancer itself appears to have been entirely encapsulated within the organ; a definite diagnosis will come next week, but there were no obvious signs out outside malignancy. Part of the length of the surgery was the 45 minute anesthesia reversal; my dad earlier had a left bundle block with cardiomyopathy in his heart, so they wanted a slow, steady wakening to combat any potential problems.

We ended up leaving; visiting hours were technically done at 8, and both doctors were not optimistic in our chances at seeing him before tomorrow (he'd probably be close to cognizance, at best, around 9pm), so we left, feeling guilty. But we'll be in first thing tomorrow, I'm sure.

The doctors were pleased, in general, with his overall weight loss and his body size (he is large, so everything involved is large, which makes for easier surgery).

My BFF Carolyn/galorette is down for the Belmont, and she and her mom made the awesome trip out to sit with mine for a while around midday. I know she appreciated it; when I spoke to her around lunch she was a bit shaky, and when I showed up at the hospital she was teary, partially due to the delay. But unless dad gets a phone and calls to yell at us, I think everything is good.

Tomorrow, my dad goes in for a prostatectomy.

No, I do not think the fact that this week appears to have been bad luck for people in general means much, thank you very much.

The day will be mostly over by the time he gets out; I'm going in to Morristown after work and my mom and I will eat out, then we'll go back to the hospital and, I suppose, wait for him to be ready for visitors - I'm not 100% sure he'll be ready, even after dinner, for that.

Friday I took off work to help out getting him settled.

And Saturday we go to the Belmont.

The New Yorker Fiction podcast has a reading of "Symbols and Signs", one of my favorite Nabokov stories. It's heartbreaking, and brilliant, and here.

I'm making a second attempt, today, to get fully off Effexor. I tried last Saturday, then came down all slidey-minded and nauseated, so I gave up. We shall see how we wake tomorrow.

...So I came home from work and my mom, gleefully, goes, "You have mail!"

So I trot to the counter. I look. She goes, "It's your AARP CARD!!!"

D: I tear it open and yes, I now have an AARP card. Of course, I have to send them money to use it, but.

Um.

I'm 25!

So one awesome thing about Netflix is the ability to do a marathon of favorite actors/directors/etc. I figured I should log on and get the majority of the French films Jean Reno's in, as he is made of awesome. I just watched "Empire of the Wolves".

Oh my god.

The first half is really interesting. There's a woman with no memory who discovers her entire face has been reconstructed, leading her to believe she's been vanished for some reason. And there's a crazy serial killer running amok in Paris's Turkish underground, torturing and disfiguring his victims, who all look(ed) the same.

Yes, these two plots DO come together.

Jean Reno is this crazy rogue ex-cop who's brought in by the guy investigating the serial killer because he knows the area. He proceeds to be generally batshit, and violently so, much to the dismay of his new partner. Soon they discover the girls that have been murdered were all accidents - the serial killer isn't a serial killer, he's an assassin who's looking for one specific girl. A girl who was swept up in a raid by the Paris police, and promptly disappeared by the anti-terrorism squad, who lobbed her towards the military, who ran some experiments regarding memory...

Ayup. Amnesia girl is the girl.

This is where the plot moves from gripping thriller to OMGWTAF bad spy/adventure movie. The girl gets the doctor to restore her old memories, and promptly becomes a cold-blooded killer, as she used to work for this Turkish gang and was one of their best militants. She was a drug runner, but she wanted out, so she stole all the cocaine they gave her and bolted. The serial killer is an assassin sent to track her down. Jean Reno, n00b cop, and the girl convene in...some sort of gigantic, awesome crypt where the cocaine, lots of guns, and grenades are also conveniently stashed. The girl gets the grenades, bolts up the stairs, and sets off an explosion. n00b cop manages to scramble to safety, and Jean Reno falls 15m into the depths.

n00b cop goes to the office, covered in blood, cocaine, and dust. He makes a professional snafu by threatening the head of narcotics, so narcotics pulls all his files. Somehow (still pretty damn bloody), he convinces his boss to send him to Turkey - now he wants answers, and is going to track down the assassin to get them.

So, Turkey. The girl, who prior til now has been running for her life from a Turkish gang, decides to go BACK to Turkey, which is where Jean Reno surprises her. n00b cop tracks the assassin all the way into a desert, where he promptly calls the guy out and is surrounded by about 50 angry gang members. They proceed to the inner sanctum of the leader of the gang, where they meet the girl and Jean Reno.

The leader is about to kill the girl when she pulls off some super-awesome move and kills him. Jean Reno and n00b cop engage in a firefight with the assassin's men, but don't worry! Narcotics division hooked up with the fucking MILITARY, who are providing backup. Jean Reno and n00b cop go to rescue the girl, they kill the assassin, and all is right with the world.

I swear to god, it was like I was watching three different movies. The cop story was one movie, the amnesiac girl was another, and then it all culminated in some horrid spy-movie send-up (no, really, narcotics got the fucking army to play along?). The entire amnesia plot was a red herring, which is a shame, because it was one of the better plots.

All in all, the first half of the movie is a great thriller, and the second half is great for lols.