So, I'm actually posting. My life is about to settle out (no weekly commitments) and I hope to blog more and especially write more. I want ALTL finished by the end of June. Wow, 40K in a month. Hmmm, maybe I should just say end of July, yeah, that's doable. Then I'll finish Judgement and finally query my beautiful dystopian. Okay, maybe I'll query my dystopian while I finish Judgement. That sounds better. Anyway, here is a scene from ALTL. I must say, I love this group of friends so much. They constantly amaze me.
By lunch time my pregnancy and break-up with Adam was all over the school. People stared at me in the halls, several guys made lewd comments and offered their bedroom skills and Elijah was being wonderful. I still couldn’t believe he protected me against Adam.
An audible hush fell over the lunchroom. I know that sounds like an oxymoron but the silence was audible, I could hear and feel it. I grabbed a tray and joined my friends at their table.
“How are you?” Sanjay asked, his face scrunched up.
Keisha plopped down across from him. “How do you think, Sanj? Haven’t you heard all the gossip in the halls? This is the biggest news at the school since Clayton got caught in the janitor’s closet with the vacuum,” she said turning to me. “Did you really stick the pregnancy test down his pants?”
My cheeks heated. “No, actually I threw it at his face.”
“What is this about a vacuum cleaner,” Elijah asked as he sat beside me.
Keisha looked at me and then him. “You can find out about the vacuum anytime, stop trying to change the subject, Elijah, and why are you still hanging around with us?” she asked with a snarky tone.
Leave it to Keisha to speak her mind. She’d been like that as long as I’d known her and I admired the ease in which she shared her mind, even if it was uncomfortable some of the time.
Elijah put his fork down and leaned back in his seat. “Cause you remind me of my African Safari,” he said with a straight face. Sanjay fist bumped him.
“You so did not just go there, white boy,” Keisha leaned forward and scowled, her beads clicking together.
Cassie rolled her eyes, “Down, Keisha, down. You went to Africa, Elijah? That’s so awesome!” she exclaimed.
Elijah looked around the table. I decided to help him out.
“She’s really gullible. Believes everything you tell her,” I said. Keisha looked like she was trying to figure out if she should be offended.
We always joked around with each other but Elijah hadn’t been around long enough for us to be comfortable with him making jokes, at least not when it came to something as serious as race.
Keisha picked up a fry and tossed in at Elijah. It hit him and bounced into my plate. “So Jew-boy, should I be offended by your comment? You’ve only been around us for four days.”
Elijah raised his eyebrows and said, “I guess a more apt question would be should I be offended with your Jew boy comment. So do you have a problem with Jews?”
“Apt? What kind of person actually uses apt in a sentence?” Keisha asked, avoiding the question.
“Someone with brains,” Elijah smiled. “I’ve no problem with you, in fact I think your braids are sexy.” He winked as he slung his arm around the back of my chair.
Keisha looked from Elijah to me and then back again to Elijah. “You can just go on thinking parts of me are sexy but I’m spoken for. And my boyfriend will kick your ass,” she said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t risk it, Keisha,” I said. “After what Elijah did to Adam this morning, I think I’d stay on his good side.”
Elijah reached up and put his hand in my hair. “Your boyfriend has nothing to worry about, Keisha,” he said and I felt his gaze on my face. Part of me was thrilled while another part of me was scared out of my mind.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Flashback Friday - Styles of the 80's - 90's
Silly bandz. Very much in style. My children wear them, trade them, and give 'em away. My piano student got really excited when she saw me wearing four (given to me by my kids) I'm in style :)
When I was their age there were several things in style that I just had to have. A swatch watch, converses hightops - in yellow, jelly bracelets, bangle bracelets - I jingled like mad when I moved my arm and a bracelet like this charm bracelet:
I was allowed to start wearing make-up during the late 80's. I think I probably looked like a clown: Blue shadow on my lid with pink shadow above it, and colored mascara. I had pink, blue, green and my favorite: yellow. Oh my, and the metallic pink lipstick. And my hair. I had lots of bangs and I would curl them with the small curling iron and tease -yes, tease- then and spray the hell out of them with hairspray till the stood up about three inches and wouldn't move in a hurricane.
And the clothes. I had leggings, leg-warmers and lacy skirts from the 80's but the 90's were when wearing clothes for style became important. And what would I like? Grunge. T-shirts, no matter how ratty covered by men's flannel shirts paired with jeans - ripped, stained, didn't matter. I even had the black combat boots. My senior year in high school was my laziest year. I'd roll out of bed, throw on clothes, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on decent make-up and pull the hair back into a ponytail. Took me less than ten minutes to get up and out the door. OMG, and ball caps. I wore them ALL the time along with a black felt hat I talked a guy out of. And another guy stole my hemp ball cap, but that was college that I'd confiscated from another guy. This style followed me to college.
Wow, that all brings back many memories, good memories. What was your style like in the 80's and 90's? Old enough to have one? Let us know. Here is the mother post.
When I was their age there were several things in style that I just had to have. A swatch watch, converses hightops - in yellow, jelly bracelets, bangle bracelets - I jingled like mad when I moved my arm and a bracelet like this charm bracelet:
I was allowed to start wearing make-up during the late 80's. I think I probably looked like a clown: Blue shadow on my lid with pink shadow above it, and colored mascara. I had pink, blue, green and my favorite: yellow. Oh my, and the metallic pink lipstick. And my hair. I had lots of bangs and I would curl them with the small curling iron and tease -yes, tease- then and spray the hell out of them with hairspray till the stood up about three inches and wouldn't move in a hurricane.
And the clothes. I had leggings, leg-warmers and lacy skirts from the 80's but the 90's were when wearing clothes for style became important. And what would I like? Grunge. T-shirts, no matter how ratty covered by men's flannel shirts paired with jeans - ripped, stained, didn't matter. I even had the black combat boots. My senior year in high school was my laziest year. I'd roll out of bed, throw on clothes, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on decent make-up and pull the hair back into a ponytail. Took me less than ten minutes to get up and out the door. OMG, and ball caps. I wore them ALL the time along with a black felt hat I talked a guy out of. And another guy stole my hemp ball cap, but that was college that I'd confiscated from another guy. This style followed me to college.
Wow, that all brings back many memories, good memories. What was your style like in the 80's and 90's? Old enough to have one? Let us know. Here is the mother post.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
My eye surgery (lasik) experience
Okay, I've had so many people asking me about my surgery last Thursday that I thought it'd be a good blog topic, be warned - there will be bad language cause I'm going to be totally honest (plus I'm drinking wine).
Five years ago I began considering having my vision fixed. It all came about after reading the story of a man who was kidnapped with no glasses for an entire year. Dude. That.Is.Scary...poop in the pants scary for me. If I took my glasses off, I couldn't find them. I had to call the kids in so they could look for them.
Anyway, about a year ago I asked two Ophthalmologist friends about the surgery. After a lot of discussion, and being told who the best in the Southeast was, I thought about it. Three weeks ago I called my friend and she insisted she make an introduction to the surgeon. He called the next day and I really liked him. The next week I had an eval at the office and was considered an excellent candidate, plus they had an opening the following week for surgery.
Whoa, that was majorly fast (since I don't wear contacts, they could do the procedure fairly quickly) After thinking about it, finding the money (my grandmother's inheritance money) and making arrangements, I scheduled the surgery and didn't really think about it again.
Hubby picked up my meds: Vicodin (pain), Restoril (sleep) and antibiotic eye drops on Wednesday. Thursday I got up, showered as I was told (with baby shampoo for my eyes - totally reminded me of my babies), and went for the surgery. I was nervous. Hubby was talking at the office. I was nervous. He continued talking. All I could think was, "Shut the fuck up." They gave me a Valium.
Honestly, the one part of the surgery that worried me was the meds. I'm into natural stuff and with the exception of Motrin haven't taken a prescription in eight years. Believe me, from the time I was seventeen to the time my second child was born, I took more than my share.
I was feeling kinda light as I went into the surgery room. I laid on the table (the doc had already explained everything I would experience, from the lights to the possible smell) and was put under the laser. Now, I hadn't considered what was about to be done to me. Why? Because I trusted my friends who recommended this doctor. Both of them work with him and respect him. In fact, one of my friends is his boss, and in his own right is one of the best retina specialists in the country.
So, the numbing drops were put in and other things done, no I felt nothing but a slight pressure, then he said, "Now I will make the flap." All I could think was, "holy fucking shit this man is going to cut my eye." Reality set in. Hard. I freaked. Not outwardly, but inwardly. I called upon those meditation and yoga practices prettily heavily over the next few seconds, especially when he lifted the flap.
I'm a writer which means I have an active imagination. I could picture what was going on and I wanted about three more Valium. No longer was I worried about the effect the Valium would have, nope, I wanted the drugs! Needless to say it was over in a very few minutes and the flap was being smoothed back into place. It took less than ten minutes from start to finish.
Then it was time for the other eye. I seriously considered asking if we could skip that eye. I knew what was coming and the panic began rising again. When he said he was cutting the flap I dug my nail into my hand and focused on the pain in my hand. I would've bitten the side of my mouth but I was scared of moving my head. I was still freaking out. After the flap was cut and lifted the laser went to work for twelve seconds. Then the flap was smoothed back into place.
It was over.
We went out of the door to my husband, and I sat on the couch while they instructed him on the proper procedure of putting the eye drops in. The doc asked me how I was doing. I told him I was freaked out. We left, went to Chick-Fil-A where I got a soup, and after eating it, took a pain pill. Then we went home and I got a sleeping pill.
I slept for nineteen hours, waking twice for more meds, eye drops and food. Also a call from the doc - he wanted to make sure I was okay.
The next day I went for the follow-up. I now know what people mean by halos - wow, I even have to dim my lighted keyboard and can't wait for the eyes to completely heal. The good news - I have 20/15 vision.
Am I satisfied? Absolutely and I would do it again - with more Valium, and I mean a lot more ;)
Five years ago I began considering having my vision fixed. It all came about after reading the story of a man who was kidnapped with no glasses for an entire year. Dude. That.Is.Scary...poop in the pants scary for me. If I took my glasses off, I couldn't find them. I had to call the kids in so they could look for them.
Anyway, about a year ago I asked two Ophthalmologist friends about the surgery. After a lot of discussion, and being told who the best in the Southeast was, I thought about it. Three weeks ago I called my friend and she insisted she make an introduction to the surgeon. He called the next day and I really liked him. The next week I had an eval at the office and was considered an excellent candidate, plus they had an opening the following week for surgery.
Whoa, that was majorly fast (since I don't wear contacts, they could do the procedure fairly quickly) After thinking about it, finding the money (my grandmother's inheritance money) and making arrangements, I scheduled the surgery and didn't really think about it again.
Hubby picked up my meds: Vicodin (pain), Restoril (sleep) and antibiotic eye drops on Wednesday. Thursday I got up, showered as I was told (with baby shampoo for my eyes - totally reminded me of my babies), and went for the surgery. I was nervous. Hubby was talking at the office. I was nervous. He continued talking. All I could think was, "Shut the fuck up." They gave me a Valium.
Honestly, the one part of the surgery that worried me was the meds. I'm into natural stuff and with the exception of Motrin haven't taken a prescription in eight years. Believe me, from the time I was seventeen to the time my second child was born, I took more than my share.
I was feeling kinda light as I went into the surgery room. I laid on the table (the doc had already explained everything I would experience, from the lights to the possible smell) and was put under the laser. Now, I hadn't considered what was about to be done to me. Why? Because I trusted my friends who recommended this doctor. Both of them work with him and respect him. In fact, one of my friends is his boss, and in his own right is one of the best retina specialists in the country.
So, the numbing drops were put in and other things done, no I felt nothing but a slight pressure, then he said, "Now I will make the flap." All I could think was, "holy fucking shit this man is going to cut my eye." Reality set in. Hard. I freaked. Not outwardly, but inwardly. I called upon those meditation and yoga practices prettily heavily over the next few seconds, especially when he lifted the flap.
I'm a writer which means I have an active imagination. I could picture what was going on and I wanted about three more Valium. No longer was I worried about the effect the Valium would have, nope, I wanted the drugs! Needless to say it was over in a very few minutes and the flap was being smoothed back into place. It took less than ten minutes from start to finish.
Then it was time for the other eye. I seriously considered asking if we could skip that eye. I knew what was coming and the panic began rising again. When he said he was cutting the flap I dug my nail into my hand and focused on the pain in my hand. I would've bitten the side of my mouth but I was scared of moving my head. I was still freaking out. After the flap was cut and lifted the laser went to work for twelve seconds. Then the flap was smoothed back into place.
It was over.
We went out of the door to my husband, and I sat on the couch while they instructed him on the proper procedure of putting the eye drops in. The doc asked me how I was doing. I told him I was freaked out. We left, went to Chick-Fil-A where I got a soup, and after eating it, took a pain pill. Then we went home and I got a sleeping pill.
I slept for nineteen hours, waking twice for more meds, eye drops and food. Also a call from the doc - he wanted to make sure I was okay.
The next day I went for the follow-up. I now know what people mean by halos - wow, I even have to dim my lighted keyboard and can't wait for the eyes to completely heal. The good news - I have 20/15 vision.
Am I satisfied? Absolutely and I would do it again - with more Valium, and I mean a lot more ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
