Partners in Crime

Most of the time, I totally want to be Donna Noble.

Donna Noble!

She's absolutely fantastic, she had a mind of her own, and wasn't afraid to speak it. She was fun, she was sassy, I mean, my Lord, the sass on that one.

Perfect example of Sass.

She has THE COOLEST Granddad ever, she saved the Doctor's life, enabled him to be with Rose, turned Left and Saved the World, met Agatha Christie, traveled with 10, she was the most important woman in all of creation, AND the TARDIS loved her.

Even River Song was amazed to meet her. Just to be in her presence. He needed a friend, and she was there to pick up the pieces. They were friends, real, true friends. They had fun together! Even the actors were friends.

Catherine Tate and David Tennant being adorable. And Awesome.

She didn't always understand what he said, or what was going on, but she knew that she trusted him. She would follow his lead, she would be his companion. She guided him, she lead him towards the right and from the wrong. She kept him honest.

But Donna was left behind. She moved on. She forgot.

Then sometimes I want to be Amy Pond. The Girl Who Waited.

He was her best friend, but more than a friend, she was one of the few that the Doctor actually depended on. She wasn't his companion, she was his partner.

I don't know how he survived without her. She solved unsolvable problems, she brought the universe back from extinction, she's absolutely adorable, she saw dinosaurs on a spaceship, alternate worlds and dreamscapes, and survived the unimaginable, she loved having fun.

How adorable is Karen Gillan?! Seriously.

She gave him River. She gave him love, she fought back. She wouldn't take no as an answer. She comforted him. She gave the Doctor consolation, even in her own death. Also, she got to be a pirate.

Karen Gillan as a Pirate.

And she has Rory, she has the greatest love anyone could ever want, she pulled time apart for him, gave her life for her him. More than once. (like seriously, a lot.) She had a love that protected her, guarded her, for a thousand years.

She leaves the doctor. She goes to her Rory. She abandons her Doctor to die in another time for her Love. Oh, but what a love.

With all of Amy's awesomeness... this scene makes me cry more than any other.

Donna's wedding. Watching this episode ... Crying right now.

[Blog title comes from a Doctor Who episode of the same name. First episode of the 4th series, it's a David Tennant and Donna noble episode. Glory.]

Somebody's Going to Emergency....

Hey faithful reader, I know it's been forever since I last posted, but I've been planning this one for a little while now. (Unfortunately.) Our story begins on June 11th, a mere 19 days ago, I was 6 geocaches away from my 100th find and I had a route planned to go for a short walk down the 202 bypass and grab them. (Grab= sign the physical logbook and log the find online.)

I didn't want to go by myself so needed a partner in crime. Obviously my first thought was Caroline, my awesome 16 year old neighbor. (Pro tip: you look a lot shadier by yourself, just loitering about, hence the dog and other people)

Caroline, seen here. With two random kids and a little black dog.

The above picture was taken for the sole purpose of making my mom jealous. She's living it up in Alaska for 10 days, so I had the twins and the doggie all to myself.
Anyways, Caroline quickly agreed. We decided to make a date of it, a doggie play date.

Which is Trixie?!

Caroline signed up for Geocaching.com and off we went! We grabbed the first 3, no problem, super easy magnetic C&Ds. (Cache & Dash) Cache 4 was a little more challenging, it was not along the 202 bypass, it was down by a creek behind a housing development. There was a small wooded area and my coords were bouncy so we went straight for the creek, there were some woods right by it. Trixie, being Trixie, wanted nothing but to leap into the creek from the bridge. I let her go in.

It's not that deep, she lays down as soon as she hits water.

We finally got on track and got the cache, it ended up being about 30 feet ahead of the creek, but it was hot and Trixie earned a dip. 5 was another easy grab, and my 100th find was hanging on a fence, about 600 feet down the road. We were going for it. It was on a fence along a treeline and we had to go through some high grasses. But we got it. Caroline's 6th find and My One Hundredth Find.

See it? I sure did!

It was totally worth what's about to come. In fact,  I even got a picture of the exact moment that I would come to despise. Maybe. (Maybe it's the exact moment, not maybe I would despise it.) See, here's us, squatting nicely and smiling for a picture after our big find.

[not pictured] Me getting Lyme Disease.

I have Lyme Disease.

Ok, it may not be Lymes. This is still unresolved.
Seriously, 19 days and we have no idea what is going on. All I know is that I woke up the next day to this: WARNING: This is totally gross. 

This is the LEAST gross picture of the bite/lesion.

Ok, it's a bug bite, no big deal. it itches like a bitch but it'll go away, that's what bug bites do: they itch and then go away. Right?

Right?

Apparently not. The next day I was hosting a Quizo and I showed a picture of my leg (and ever growing rash) to Ronan, who was convinced I was going to lose my leg or die. Anyways, it was clearly worse than before. So I promised that the next day I would call my Doctor. It was worse the next day, the day I promised to call the doctor. Spoiler: I didn't.

Here's a fun fact about me: I hate going to the doctor, I mean I really hate going to the doctor. I like doctors, I believe they are good people, but I don't ever want to go to see them professionally. You want to hang out? Play some card/board games, watch a movie, study some bible? Awesome. If I'm sick, I would almost rather die than see you. Almost.
Here's a fun (true) example. Last year I had a little cold, maybe some strep. Then it was a little sinus infection, then a horrific sinus infection. Then it moved to my lungs. It was an awful, but survivable, bronchitis. Then it was pneumonia. (This took place over a three month period, during which I was working 50+ hours a week with a 2 hour daily commute) I waited 2 weeks with the pneumonia and then my best friend made me go to the CVS Minute Clinic. I really didn't want to go.
Also, I've done that, with the pneumonia, twice.

My mom convinced me to at least call Doctor Silver and see if he wanted me to come in. So I called and he was out at a conference, not to return to the office until Monday. So I told the nurse what was up and she said that she'll let him know when he checks in and then call me back, should be within the hour. 5 minutes later she calls me back and says I need to be seen. Not Monday. Now. Go to the ER, the CVS Minute Clinic, Urgent Care, get seen now.
After waiting an HOUR to be seen at the "minute" clinic*, she takes one look at my leg and says, nope. We can't help you, you need to go to Urgent Care or the ER. Perfect, just what I was trying to avoid.

*Seriously, I still love the Minute Clinic. I'd go there any day.

I went to the jerky Urgent Care. No wait, thankfully. But the Doctor was an ass. Like, seriously, thanks for validating all of my reasons for hating you. He basically told me that it was a bug bite and I was over-reacting. He gave me a bug bite discharge printout. (the bugs listed I have unfortunately committed to memory) Mosquito, fleas, bedbugs, chiggers, bees, and wasps.

So when my leg looked like this the next day (that's day 4 for those of you keeping track) of spider bite/bug bite/death/rash of doom/nobody knows what they're talking about:

EGAD! Call a priest! 

I thought he might be wrong. And an ass.

You're wrong AND an ass! Yay!

However, I told the good doctor that I would wait until Monday unless "my leg swelled to double in size or you get a fever" so I waited. In retrospect, I didn't ask what he meant by fever. My temp that day was 97.3º so 98.6º might have been feverish. I should have clarified. My bad.
Day 5 was Father's Day! Yay Daddy!! My dad, who I surprisingly don't talk a lot about here, is awesome. He's a nurse, he got his RN 2 years ago and works at a psychiatric hospital. Anyways, he's a mandated worker, so if the nurse after him doesn't show up, guess what? you're not leaving.

Me and Pops. Like, our regular faces. That's just us.

So the nurse replacing him overslept and was an hour late. I had an AWESOME Dad's Day planned. We were supposed to go to the zoo for a member's only early open day, then church, then out to lunch. That.... didn't happen. at all.
Instead, he got to my house super late, and had me text this picture to my mom and step-mom.

That is ONE DAY after the other picture. I thought I was going to die.

The three of them (mom, dad, step-mom) made me go back to urgent care. Bridget wanted dad to take me to the ER, but I convinced him Urgent Care was ok. It was a three hour wait. Literally. Over three hours from sign-in to seeing a doctor. On a sunday morning. FML, right? No. This Doctor was AMAZING. For the first time in my life I felt like a doctor actually listened to me and didn't dismiss me as a child or whining or over-reacting. But that's another story.
Doctor Packer was great. She actually examined my leg and asked questions and seemed to give a shit. Which I've never really experienced before, so it was very nice. She gave me an antibiotic cream, a P/O corticosteriod, and an antihistamine, because apparently my body was flipping shit and I didn't notice.
Honestly though, if I have to wait three hours to see a doctor that actually gives a shit, DONE. I am so there.

It's going away!! Finally!

After one day of the steroid and antibiotic, it was starting to go away. It looks a little more purple in the picture, but the raised part was almost completely gone and the coloring was just a bit off. Okay, it was still terrifying but better! I promise! I was on the steroid for 8 days and it was SO MUCH BETTER. It was really almost gone. Then I was done the pills and two days later, this shit.

dafuq?

I just want it to go away. It's a spider bite, it's a mosquito bite (I never believed that), its impetigo, whatever. Make it go away.

It's ending soon, I promise.

So today, now yesterday, I went for a hike through Valley Forge National Historical Park with my friend Kubs. He's like an expert in everything. So I was regaling to him the odyssey of my wound, and he asked, "does it itch?" Ohmahgad, does it ever. It never stopped itching. He said it sounds almost like a tick bite. OH. MY. GOD. It hits me. I remember finding a tick, a dead tick, on my comforter the day the bite appeared. It stands to reason, even if he himself wasn't the jerk that got me, that there were other jerk ticks nearby. And it's not like, totally out of the realm of possibility that in the state with the highest incidence of Lyme Disease in the country by far, I mean by like 1,400 cases above the #2 state, I could get attacked by a tick or two. Especially out in the woods and high grasses like we were.

Usually after geocaching in high grasses/wooded areas/fields/whatnot (this is known as "bushwhacking" in the caching world) you brush off, or have a friend get, the ticks, the many many ticks, from your clothes before you get back in the car. And then you find some more, and throw them out the window of said car. Don't get me wrong, this is not always the case, and is hardly ever the case in urban caching, but I'm used to it. And I didn't see any ticks that day. But... Deer ticks are super effing tiny. I found one one me once in Shippensburg. Actually, Kubs found one on him today after our hike.
I'm going to my actual doctor, Dr. Silver, on Monday, I'll tell him I think it might be Lyme's and hopefully he'll run an ELISA and we'll find out for sure.

I'm so screwed.

Sorry for the long post, here's a potato.

[Today's blog title comes from Season 2, episode 16 of the same title. They got it from a song called "New York Minute" by Don Henley." The quote in the song is Somebody's Going to Emergency, Somebody's Going to Jail. I highly recommend you give it a listen. Faithful reader, aka Amanda, you already know this information. Next time I see you, I will give you a real potato.]

Viva Las Vegas!!

I went to Las Vegas last weekend with the boy because he was the best man in a friend's wedding. That's right folks, a Vegas wedding. It was awesome.
First thing's first. In our hotel, there was a wine shot bar. And where we went for dinner had a pool of fire. Just fire, in a pool of water.

Pay as you go wine shot bar

Holy Shit! Water on Fire!

They got married at a very sweet little chapel, it was a short ceremony and they wrote their own vows. They both wrote their own, very nerdy, vows.
Some requisite wedding shots:

Champagne!

Then we went to the Valley of Fire for photos after. Oh. My. God. The Valley of Fire is amazing!!! It's so beautiful, I couldn't get over it.
First, they have killer bees. True story. So that's the first thing we see when we get there. Beware of Killer bees.

Africanized Honey Bee warning. Gee, thanks.

Totally worth it for this view:

That's Phil.

 Several of us decided that we needed to climb the rocks. Dunno if it's allowed, but we went for it.

Falling to my doooooooom!

And for the record, these were my perfectly-appropriate rock climbing shoes. 

Seems legit.

So that was it, my glorious trip to Las Vegas. At least we didn't end up on a Soviet Submarine. (FYI, that's a Doctor Who reference. Watch it. You're welcome.)

It starts.

Today is my first official day as Mommy-sub. My step-sister left for Germany and France last night so I technically started yesterday at 4, but I felt like I was just babysitting like I normally do. Waking up in the morning and getting them to school? Mommy's job.
Last night was okay. We went to swimming then came home, had dinner and pretty much went straight to bed. I woke up about 10 minutes later than I wanted to, but had enough time to get the kids totally ready (including teeth brushed, toys away and beds made) I even had time to put a french braid in Sarah's hair and we were early for school. Yeah, I rock.
The downside? I don't have a job so now I'm sitting in the house by myself. I'm not usually up this early to begin with, and I'm bored out of my mind.
I leave you with this: I may need to make an entire post dedicated to the random places I find a Sleeping Sarah. Because really kid?

See, it’s all about budgeting your time

I got this blog title from C.J. Cregg's first lines in the show West Wing, upon which my blog (and life) are loosely based. See, our heroine, C.J., is running on a treadmill at the gym. She is talking to a cute guy on the adjacent treadmill and she says, "You can have a normal life. You’d be amazed at how normal I can be. See, it’s all about budgeting your time. This time, this hour, this is my time. Five a.m. to six a.m. I can workout, as you see. I can think about personal matters. I can meet an interesting man. [Her beeper goes off.] The trick is..." C.J. checks her beeper while still running on the treadmill. What she finds on her beeper is distracting, however, and she falls off the machine. In a ridiculously C.J. fashion.

I decided to start working out.

I'll let that sink in.

Better? Okay. I'm a lot like CJ in that I would totally be that girl falling on a treadmill at the gym. Also why I don't go to the gym.
But I do need to start doing something to get healthier. I'm lazy. Really I am. I like, nay, love television. I am watching In Plain Sight on Netflix as I type. And I have been watching 6+ hour Bones marathons on a decently regular basis. Not to mention the literally days of my life dedicated to Doctor Who. I love Doctor Who.
I saw a thing on Pinterest *pinterest!* about doing "workouts" to television shows based upon character actions and/or quotes. I usually stick to drinking games based upon this premise.
So I made my own. They all seemed pretty easy ... at the time. 

My, how wrong one can be about one's own abilities.

Here is my Doctor Who "workout" list. If you are a fan of (Whovian)/have ever seen/heard of the show, you should be duly impressed. I had NO IDEA what I was getting into.

When anyone says Doctor: 10 jumping jacks
When anyone says Run: run in place 30 seconds
When the Doctor uses the Sonic Screwdriver: 5 Pushups
Anyone goes in/out of the TARDIS: 10 squats
If, Gallifrey forbid, the Doctor loses the TARDIS: 30 mountain climbers
The TARDIS sound: 20 sit-ups
See a Dalek: RUN in place 30 seconds
See any other monster: 10 twisting sit-ups (the ones that work obliques)
Anyone says their catchphrase: 10 second plank/ 3 push-ups
Anyone breaks time: Yoga that shit. Down dog/ plank/ cobra/ up dog/ down dog. Hold 5 seconds each. Double if it's Rose Tyler, because screw her. If you needed a reason to hate her, this is it.
Any time you giggle/ chortle/ laugh out loud: Yoga that shit. Mountain/ touch your toes/ half up (flat back)/ touch again/ mountain/ prayer position. No hold, this should flow.
If the Doctor rambles on or makes up words to explain everything that only serves to confound those around him: Take a good Horse stance, because you're going to do an 8 step block. [Right low block, left low, right inside to outside, left inside to outside, right high block, left high block, right outside to in, left outside to in.]
If it's listed as "anyone" and that someone is The Doctor: Double it. Because screw me.
And if, by chance, it's an episode that The Doctor meets a meanie that he wants to save, give up, because when he offers Meanie an out to save themselves, you're doing all of the above, cut numbers in half except when this causes you to have an uneven side (ie. twist sit-ups/ yoga/ 8 count block) then add 5 push-ups to make up for it.

This was MY FIRST WORKOUT.

My legs still hurt. : (
I'll do this again tomorrow, but for now, I'm working on drinking to In Plain Sight, thankyouverymuch.

So now I can embarrass myself in the privacy of my own living room. Sometimes in front of Jen. : )

Take Out the Trash Day

Dear Only Faithful Reader, this is not so much a "blog post" as it is a brain dump. So Amanda, try to not judge me too hard. J'adore.

I have been thinking a lot on how I never finish anything, about how I aim for the lowest possible option when I do anything. I shoot for the C+ to pass, I do an easy job that pays shit because I don't think I can do anything else, I take pictures and then do nothing with them because I'm afraid of others' judgement, I make obligations and then dread them, I start projects and leave them half finished. 

I would insert a picture here, but that would be way too mortifying for me.

I have a box, actually I could fill a room with half finished crochet/ knitting/ sewing projects, long abandoned, accumulating dust with no hope of ever becoming what it started out as. I literally have a box filled with half or 3/4 completed bracelets. You know the ones, the stupid friendship bracelets made with embroidery floss that everyone has in the summer and "Oh my God! I'm never going to take it off because we're best of friends forever and ever and ever!!!" and then they're cut off well before the first day of school. Yeah. Those. I have probably 12 from years ranging 2000-last summer. All well thought out, none finished. 

I don't really know why. It's not like a 3 year old is going to judge me on my crocheting skills. Maybe I just get tired of it, I don't know. This one I totally don't get.

College. Dear college, hello Mr. C and D grades. I was glad for a C. I am smart, and I'm not just saying that to whatever, I mean, I am very smart. And I am very capable of doing well and getting good grades and being smart or something. (See what I did there was a little facetious.) But no, I was excited for that C and Bs would be shocking. I've been trying to figure that out for, oh I don't know, 21 years? I have always wanted my teachers/professors to like me. Maybe I don't believe I'm actually as smart as I think I am. I don't think that I'm as articulate on paper as I am in person and I've always been terrified that authority figures will think I'm an utter idiot. I once handed in a paper that I worked my ass off on. I handed it to my prof, she looked at it, made a face, crossed out a couple of paragraphs and then an entire page, and handed it back to me. She gave me a day extension. I went home and wept. I've never told anyone that. Well, there you go internet. 

The next semester I handed in an 8 page paper that was supposed to be no less than 15 pages for a professor that I knew was a stickler for page count. I got an A on the paper and had so many points taken off for length that I got a C and I didn't care. I acted like I didn't care. Did I actually care? Maybe. That professor was a douche. If it was for anyone else I would have cared more. 

Except I did mostly that exact thing for everyone. A/Bs on tests and always participated in class, then didn't hand in anything else. Because I knew it would suck. Because everything I do sucks. 

My job. I am a Nanny, and don't get me wrong, I love my job. I adore the kids I watch and I love doing it. Let me say that first. Now, seriously people, I am a nanny. My friends all have real jobs. Even Logie has a government job where she is responsible for kids' lives and safety. Politics, government, business,  public safety, law. I feel like all of my friends have real adult people jobs and I'm stuck here watching children for barely over minimum wage for an absurd amount of hours, and that's when I can find a job. I've been unemployed for so long that I would kill for crappy underemployment like last year. Who needs benefits? 401k's are for chumps. IRS tax withholdings? Psssht, lame. 

Why can't I get a real job? Why can't I get a job? I've had interviews and sent so many messages to families and resumes to businesses and heard nothing. Honestly it gets so very discouraging. 

At growth group this week we talked about doing things out of duty versus doing things out of love. I don't think I realized how discouraged I was with everything in my life until I was asked what call to service I have denied because I felt unqualified? It's not a call to service that I've denied. I feel it may be everything in my life I've denied because I feel unqualified. 

At what point in your life did you first feel the joy of serving God? And I have been struggling ever since to remember the last time I felt joy at all. I have feelings. I have all of the other feelings, I just can't remember the last time, or if ever, I have been joyous. Maybe I don't know what the word itself means.  

There's a lot of things that I don't know. For being a very smart person, there are simply a lot of things that I do not know and a lot of things that I do not want to acknowledge about myself. Psychoanalysts for another day, I suppose. 

Thanks for sticking with me (mostly Amanda).