Don't Call it a Migraine

So last night, around 2000, my head began to ache.  Then came the light-sensitivity, and finally the nausea.  I was in bed by 2100, desperately trying to fall asleep before it got worse.  "Migraine Lite", I called it in my status update, and I wasn't kidding.

See, I used to get migraines fairly regularly when I was a child- not sure why, but I did.  Even at six I knew that moving only made the pain worse, but it hurt so much I couldn't help but writhe.  It hurt so much I would hallucinate from the pain.  It was an awful, awful thing, although as an adult my sympathy is torn between child-me, and my mother, who (a migraine sufferer, herself) wasn't able to do anything to make it better beyond gently stroking my temples (an action which, to this day, means "love" to me).  Fortunately, I outgrew those horrible migraines- but the memory remains.

I woke up around 0100 from the pain, and the nausea, flailed out of bed and took more pain killers.  Woke up again when my alarm went off at 0630: my life remained one giant NOPE.  Half an hour later I crawled out of bed, put on the bare minimum of acceptable clothing, and drove into work to take care of a few Must Be Done things so that I could come back home to bed.

"This is how I know it's not a real migraine," I told Nathan as I slipped on my flip flops, "Because if it was a real migraine I wouldn't be able to do anything by lay in bed and cry."

I was back in bed by 0745, wrapped in my improvised eye-mask.

Pajama shirt secured with a scarf.  Knot to the front to reduce skull discomfort.

I lay there thinking to myself that migraines, even quasi-migraines, are one of the worst ways to be ill because you literally can't do anything but lay there.  No reading, no internet, no television, no music.  Just darkness and silence and as little movement as you can manage.  It's hard to sleep because it hurts so badly, but sometimes you get lucky and sleep comes, anyway.

Around 1130 I tentatively removed my eye-mask- the light was still too bright, but it didn't hurt.

"Progress," I muttered.  Then the dog barked, and that didn't hurt, either, so I slowly sat upright, and didn't have even the slightest urge to vomit.

So I went in to work and honestly spent a good deal of it hiding in the darkened break room, but hey- at least it wasn't a migraine.

You Guys Really Like Babies

That last entry got me more than three times the pages views as I have subscribers (putting it that way makes it sound more impressive than the actual numbers involved).  Which means, obviously, that the old marketing saw re: babies and puppies is totally true.  As such, in order to keep bringing in the high numbers, I obviously need to keep posting photos of babies.

(probably)

Okay, enough pandering.  Because really there's no point in exploiting my niblings if I'm not actually going to make any money off of it, now is there?  Didn't think so.

Nathan is off capturing a sunset at Trillium Lake, an adventure which we've attempted in the past only to be thwarted by snow (and, to be more specific, by our distinct lack of snowshoes).  The pig and I stayed home, to host dinner for my uncle and aunt, who got in from Dubai this afternoon.  I served them a pork-based meal, and they were appropriately excited about it.  There were plums for dessert, because my husband has his own ways of being romantic.

Is it possible he brought me... ALL the plums?

I'm Going on a Picnic, and I'm Bringing a Bouncing Baby Boy...

Okay so that title is a total lie.  We brought grilled chicken and roasted veggies.  And a pig bull.  It was my sister-in-law who brought the baby.  But when you're playing the "Going on a Picnic" road trip game you don't say, "My sister-in-law is going on a picnic," because that's just awkward.

We went on a picnic today!  It was great.  We drove up to Olympia to meet up with Chelsea and Eaglet, and had a lovely walk around the lake, and then an equally lovely picnic.  Family time is good time.

This is how Nathan wants the world to think he reacts to babies:

"What is it?!"

But the reality is really a little closer to this:

Just some dudes hangin' out with a pig bull.

And if he thinks no one is watching?

Look closely at the fingers- he is totally tickling that baby.

Yeah.  Pretty awesome.  Anyway.

On our way home from Oly, we saw a sign for Rainbow Falls State Park, and made a "why the hell not" decision to go investigate it.

Investigations Galore

The falls weren't actually all that impressive, but it was a nice little side trip, and a nice little reminder that we are adults, and we do whatever the hell we want**.  Also it's just possible that Nathan managed to get a good shot or two out of it.  Proof of that particular pudding will have to wait, however, until he's caught up on today's sportball happenings.






**(just so long as we're not out too late because bedtimes)

This is Just to Say

Plums were on sale the last time I went to Chuck's, both red and black, and so I loaded up on the red ones, and that was on Wednesday and now it's Friday night and I've just eaten the last one (my fourth of the day) and all I can think is that I need to go get more plums like literally right now.



(Seriously you guys, it's been like eating succulent rubies imported directly from Bism.)



(Also, if my husband had eaten the last one before me I'd probably have murdered him, no matter how excellent a poem he left on the counter to replace it.)

Gaining Momentum

It's not just writing that I've been slacking on, lately.  I've also been slacking on eating right, riding my bike, and climbing, which has had certain, shall we say squishifying results on my body (not to mention unhappy results in my brain chemistry).  But I'm getting back in line with all those things- Nathan and I are teaming up with a friend of mine to do a (relative) Whole30 this month.  I say "relative" because we're electing to keep dairy in, and Nathan said the only way he'd do it was if he was allowed beers on Saturday, because it's football season.  To which I replied Deal, because moderation in all things, right?  Right.

So that's eating right.  Riding my bike took a hit when I jacked up my ankle back in June, but it's been feeling much better, lately, so back on the bike with me.  It's pretty much the same story with climbing, only with the added disincentive that was my climbing bros having had weird schedules all summer, so pretty much any time I was at the gym I was alone, and that just sucks and leads to limiting myself to like three routes before I give up in a bored and sulky pout.

Today, however, KB and I managed to hook up and I had the best day of climbing that I've had in a long-ass time- basically since my last outdoor trip, to French's Dome at the end of July.  (yeah, I know- I should have blogged about that at the time.  Sorry...)  And that little trip resulted in an elephant-looking ankle, which today did not, so all in all, today wins.  Yay winning!

Of course, now my hands are too shredded to practice the guitar, which I have also been slacking on, but still... one step at a time...

Tooth for a Tooth

So I've basically spent the past two months wandering around in an uninspired wasteland, and while I feel like that was maybe somewhat justified, that time has passed and it's time to get my shit together and be a writer again.  Which includes blogging, because seriously- how lame is it that I only had one entry for the month of August?  Pretty lame, I'm just saying.

Today is Wednesday, which means Errands Day, and I conducted myself accordingly.  First things first, I took Kink back to the vet, because two weeks ago he had a tooth extracted and apparently a fortnight is the amount of time one waits before following up on these sorts of things (Houston we are cleared for crunchy food- praise Sekhmet!)  The girl behind the desk mentioned that it had been a weird morning- "We had so many appointments scheduled, but two were no-shows, and one called to cancel- and then you were pretty early, which actually worked out really well!"

"Yeah, I tend to be early," I said.  "I have to factor in Jenny O Gets Lost Time."

Puzzled head cock from the tech.

"See, I'm really, really bad about getting lost, even going to places I've been a billion times," I explained**, "So I always have to plan in extra time- which generally ensures that I will not get lost, but if I don't factor it in, then I will."

Of course, "generally ensures" does not equate to "always ensures", and thus a few hours later I found myself sitting in a parking lot, calling my new dentist's office.

"Yeah, hi- where are you guys, exactly?"

As it turned out I'd actually already been in the correct parking lot a few minutes prior, but somehow missed the entire building (don't ask) and so moved on to the next (incorrect) parking lot in an attempt to track it down.  It also turned out to be less of a hassle to walk back to the correct location than to attempt to drive back to it, so that's what I did.  And thanks to Jenny O Gets Lost Time, I still managed to arrive on schedule.

Word of advice?  Don't let four years go by between seeing a dentist.  That being said, expect more Thrilling Dental Adventures next Wednesday, when I return to get my two cavities filled (and cracked filling replaced).  ::sigh::





**Our first Christmas as a couple, Nathan bought me a Garmin.  Because he'd been on the phone with me one too many times when I said, "Huh.  I wonder where I am..."

Words and Gods

I am a man, and men are animals who tell stories.  This is a gift from God, who spoke our species into being, but left the end of our story untold.

                                -Sacrament, Clive Barker

I disagree; I feel certain all animals must tell stories- because we know animals dream, and we know animals communicate, and what are stories but communicated dreams?  It's just that ours is the species who writes them down.  Perhaps, then, the Gods' magic resides not so much in the Words themselves, but in the letters used to Shape them...