Mal ,'Shindig'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I think everyone should reward themselves with iPods.
I'm realizing that I'll probably have to reward myself with a new computer at home before the iPod reward can happen. hmmm...what other task can I set myself to? (er...aside from the saving money to actually buy these rewards task)
Lisah, then you'll appreciate what I mean when I say I almost did something that was totally Munch-taking-up-a-whole-page-in-Helen's-yearbook(Not that I found that relatable at all, nuh uh. But I'm thirty-one, not sixteen, so I stopped myself.) Ah, well, one less thing to feel pangs about as he lies beaten bloody in a parking garage. Gee, attitude really does help...I was wrong to doubt!
Amy Parker wanted me to tell you that she's sorry that your Mother had surgery today too. She wonders which is more ironic, heart or uterine surgery on Valentine's Day.Oh, yeah. An irony-off.
Trudy, please give amyp my best. Her sister is in my thoughts and prayers. Is this the sister she told us about, that has cancer? I remember her putting something in beep me, a long time ago. It seems to me that her family didn't tell her (Amy) at first.
It seems to me that her family didn't tell her (Amy) at first.
It was one of those "Well, what could you do about it, way out there in Utah?" things. I believe they have learned their lesson.
It was one of those "Well, what could you do about it, way out there in Utah?" things. I believe they have learned their lesson.
My folks did this to me once. Once. Then my sister did it to me. I'm so going to get them back next time I'm hospitalized.
It was one of those "Well, what could you do about it, way out there in Utah?" things.
I can't say anything, because I did it to my family. It was too daunting to think about my family's freaking out while I was still freaking out.
I can't say anything, because I did it to my family. It was too daunting to think about my family's freaking out while I was still freaking out.That's a little different somehow, because it's your body, and you probably felt the need to control what little you could. At the very least, it is your prerogative. But when the non-patients withhold that information from one sibling, or one parent, but not telling the other, is hurtful, I think.
In 1989 (I should create a macro warning, because whenever I start a story with that year, it's going to have to do with death or its after effects), my mother lost three of her four brothers in 3 and half months--March 13th to July 1. While brother#1 was dying of cancer (he lingered), brother#2 was diagnosed with inoperable cancer. brother#4 died, at work, in the arms of brother#3--of an aortic aneurysm--a month and a day after #1 died. Brother#3 had an aortic aneurysm, 6 weeks later, but did not die, because he new the symptoms and basically ordered the doctors how to treat him. He felt in burst while having an ultrasound and demanded they rush him to O.R. He didn't die, but did contract Hep C from the life saving transfusion, because this was a week before they starting screening blood for Hep C. Brother#2 died a month after that. Brother#3's wife did die a few months later, also of cancer.
Anyhow, during one of these lovely moments, my mother and aunt (who had a breakdown right before brother#3's death) decided not to inform my grandmother. I think it was about brother#2's cancer. I was 22. I had to sit them down, and explain that they needed to tell Nana, because it just wasn't right, and how would she deal with it, if his cancer was fatal. They finally did--maybe after the biopsy confirmation. She chastised them a little for not telling her right away. They said, "But mum, you've had so much, and what could you do." When she answered, "I could pray," I think they got the point.
No, I didn't.
Must've been the part where I was reading your mind. Or actually, I was referring to your notice that you would be working on the board getting it ready for the search feature. Which in my mind (and perhaps in no others), constituted the kind of notice that would let Nora know she wasn't getting her leg pulled about the recent (welcome!) addition to the features.
So what I wanted to say last night right when the board started hanging on me, was:
Hec, I may have misspoken (what the hell constitutes a compilation anyway?) -- I meant one of the Hec Special Tapes. Not Blackwater Slide... maybe In the Pines?
Aye, caramba Cindy. That's a special record for 1989 awfulness. Your poor family.