More travel insurance

To be clear - they did insure me in the end - as a 'goodwill gesture'; but probably won't do so again.
I cried - no, I'll be honest, I bawled down the phone at them to the extent that I was barely intelligible while giving my credit card details. So much so that the woman who was dealing with me became so upset that someone else had to take over.
I hate that crying that ends up with those juddering breath/sobs that you can't stop.
They then told me to have a good trip and the woman who'd taken over said 'go and have a nice cup of tea.' - To which I replied 'I don't think tea cures cancer' - or I would've done if I'd been able to enunciate the words - it came out more like gobbledygook and I caught myself when she said she hadn't heard what I'd said and just said 'thank you'. Because, as I'd said to the other woman - it wasn't her fault and actually it was horribly unfair that she had to be the one to tell me this and to deal with a distraught person on the phone - it was the decision of the underwriters who, of course, don't deal with the customers. Which is pretty luxurious for them. I get really angry about things like that. I'm not surprised when my cancer means that I can't have what I want - but I get angry when people won't face me with it. If you're going to deny me something then you better tell me yourself and take it when I get upset and angry. You have to listen to me because I don't see why you should get to run away. Take responsibility for what you've caused. Be the big person and deal with my upset. Trust me, no matter how much you don't want to and no matter how uncomfortable it makes you - it's worse for me. It will always be worse for me. So don't be so cowardly. Worms.

So, I can no longer recommend InsurePink travel insurers if you have mets. I expect they're still not bad if you've had cancer but are now in the clear and to be fair, they have always been very easy to deal with and talk to when going through the medical questions. But if your cancer is metastatic: keep looking......

Oh, and sorry I upset you Mirriam.

Just ring! - Or actually, don't. Piss off.

Update:
They'll insure me as a one-off as a gesture of goodwill this time but underwriting changes all the time and I can try them in the future but they may not insure me (i.e won't insure me). Because they're not set up for helping people with metastases just people who've had cancer but are better now.

So there.

And it's not because I have cancer it's because I'm going to the U.S.A. - except of course, it *is* because of the cancer - because if I didn't have cancer they'd insure me.

I've had this underlying feeling this would be the last Christmas I'd have in the States. Perhaps I was right.

Oh hey! Merry Christmas! Have a great one!

***********************************************
Urgle,
waitwaitwaitwaitwait.
Ickety waiting for the Travel Insurance people to call me back and say if they're going to insure me or not.
The relevant person is only on the end of an email or something and I've been waiting for nearly 3 hours. Which is silly - they insured me a month ago for Thanksgiving - nothing has changed since then. There is no reason why they shouldn't be able to do it. I just have to wait until the supervisor ok's it.
So why am I researching other Insurance companies?.....

Brrrring, brrring

Oh, I'm so glad I rang up the breast care nursing team - I got some very useful advice.
.....
.....
.....
.....
Sorry, I was waiting for whomever that statement applies to to chime in and tell us all what the advice was - coz I could use some more!

Sadly, when I rang yesterday I got the useless-[hmmm, let's not use her real name....let's call her.....Meringue! Yes! That will do!].. I rang and got The Useless-Meringue! In the past she has on two occasions said she was going to call me back about something and then hasn't; plus she has told me diametrically the wrong information about one other query I had. Excellent! Sadly, again, the nurse I *do* like - because she is actually *helpful* - was not there..... :(
So, I said - pain! I have pain! You told me the Arimidex might do this! It hurts! Paracetamol and ibuprofen help a bit! Cocodamol or Neurofen Plus help more! But Codeine! They have codeine in which blocks up the old digestive tract as soon as I open the packet! Try not to take those too much! Heat helps!
The Useless-Meringue says: Yes! Arimidex can cause pain! Do you want to move your appointment forward!? (Me: NOOOOOO!) When was your last bone scan?! (Me: Areeeeghhhhh! September! Plus, NOOOOOO!) Are you sure it's the Arimidex?! (Me - in head: WTF?!! *I* don't know! How am I supposed to know? Me - out loud: No, I'm not sure - but the pain does improve with heat and movement (i.e. Probably muscular rather than bony pain) I'll speak to the Registrar and call you before I go home tonight! (Me: Thank you!)

9 hours later:
Me: Hah! She's not going to ring again!
Phone rings - points awarded
The Useless Meringue: Take the painkillers and call me again if they stop working! Call us and we'll move your appointment forward if you're worried!
Me:........OK.......do you have any other tips for anything that might help or, anything?
The Useless Meringue:...Not really!
Me:..........OK........well, can I have some more Lorazepam then please?
The Useless Meringue:......Yes! We can do that! We will send prescription to pharmacy and you can collect it!
Me:...............OK..........thank you. Um, will this go away eventually - how long does it last?
The Useless Meringue:..Well, some people find it goes away but for some people it doesn't. But! Arimidex is one of three drugs in the Aromatase family; so we can try you on one of the others if it doesn't go away!
Me:.....So, how long until you know if it will go away or not?
The U.M.: A few months!
Me:..........................OK.................right...............thanks. Ok. Right. Right.
The U.M.: Does exercise help?!
Me: Um, well, it's better when I've been moving around....
The U.M.: Light exercise! Try that!
Me:.....Right. Thanks........Bye!

So I am exactly where I was this time yesterday. Bar some Lorazepam. Which was off my own bat. You can't hear my head falling off my shoulders here - but it has.
I shouldn't be surprised.
Side-effects in the cancer world are just par for the course. The attitude isn't quite: "Tough. Suck it up." But it nearly is.
It makes the Dear Other absolutely livid. If he had made his millions he'd throw it all into research into alieviating side effects to cancer drugs. But he hasn't.

So, to recap:

Ouch.

Where I beg

Cancer related things are kicking my butt at the moment.
After months of jollying along, the big ol' sad has caught up with me again. Mostly because Arimidex is *hurting* at the moment. My lower back and hip joints *hurt*. Of the 'I'm uncomfortable standing, sitting and lying down' variety. Of the ibuprofen and paracetamol are not really cutting it pain-killing-wise at the moment. Of the 'only boiling heat seems to dull the pain enough to sleep' variety. There are only so many nights and days you can go through without starting to turn into some insane, about to eff and blind at anyone and everyone type of person.
And at moments like that my brain gets locked down into panic-mode. And all I can think is that the medication isn't working; the cancer is eating away my pelvis and spine and the end is nigh - woe is me - etc, etc.
And I scare myself when I get like that. I start to worry that I'm going to accidentally kill myself by taking too many painkillers - just because I got to that point where I was so desperate to make the pain stop for just a moment that I took another dose. I'm not saying I'm about to do that - in fact I'm bloody careful not to; but I can see so clearly how you could end up there.
I know I'm going to have to call my breast care nurse and at least get some sleeping/relaxant stuff from her. But I'm just so scared that they're going to whisk me in to have tests done and I'm going to end up not being able to go out to the States to be with my mum and my brother for Christmas. And we've booked the flights. And the insurance companies either won't insure me for anything cancer-related or they won't cover cancellation and curtailment. Either way it will be money wasted. And I won't get to have old-school Christmas.
Hate This.
The other morning the sun was shining so brightly but it was really cold - quite a rarity here; and I was so torn. It was beautiful but it made me sad. And I thought - I don't want to love like this; here, in this life of mine. But I can't go back to my old life. And I can't change the fact I have cancer. Wherever I go; whatever I change; I can't change that. If I do something new or different then I'm just dragging cancer off to the new and different spot with me. It doesn't go. It's the cartoon/old movie irons around the ankles.
Second verse, same as the first.
The other night I got home and just ended up crying and saying 'please'. Over and over and over again. Begging. With God, with the Universe; with the wind and the cloud and the rain and the snow and the ocean - with every wave in the sea. Just 'please' - please let the last four years have been a dream. That 'worst nightmare I've ever had' that was my first thought when they said it was cancer. Please. Please let this not be. Please. Please. I don't know how to ask any more nicely. I don't know how to be any better; any more deserving.
My miracle. Please.
Or maybe - if this has to be real - could I live in the dreamworld instead. Shut down this external existence and just live in dreams.
Please.

Please.

Long live internet shopping!

I have nearly recovered.
From Oxford Street and its environs on a Saturday in late November.
I managed not to kill anyone although the urge was strong.
Too many people in not enough space equals me wanting to batter said people.
And I had to deal with beads. About which I knew virtually nothing. I now know they're expensive. And that the shop I went to advertises things at different prices for different quantities on their website than they sell in store. I also couldn't find half of what I saw on their website. ::loathing::
Necessitating a further foray through the crowds to John Lewis, who also didn't have everything I wanted but did have preposterous queues which I stood in and debated whether I was going to faint and what I'd end up saying to nice ambulance personnel if I did so. Fainting was avoided. I was very hot. I get hotter when I get stressed and I Was Stressed. I was consequently distinctly soggy.
John Lewis also helpfully has those wheely baskets - I am in favour of. Sadly they don't have aisles large enough to accommodate the baskets and other people. ::groan::

This expedition meant I was not in favour of going to Sainsburys for something for dinner so we went to the Cambodian place round the corner. I had too much salt (I think) and having fallen asleep for 2 hours at 9.30pm woke up and then couldn't get back to sleep until gone 2am; because I was Hot and also felt like I'd had all the liquid sucked out of me and my tongue was sticking to the inside of my mouth. I did keep drinking water - but I think I was just sweating it off again.....
::blech::

Tongue has mostly unstuck itself now.

::snooze::

I'm really tired this evening.
I was late to bed last night and getting up for work this morning was hard. I really didn't want to go. It was OK once I was there and I seem to be getting back into the swing of the work fairly easily. I took my headphones in so I could listen to the radio whilst working which helped to stop be feeling a bit bored.
Guides were giddy and unwilling to listen this evening. ::sigh:: I am too tired to do a good job and keep feeling like I'm just not achieving enough for them. I feel like there are so many things we have to get done that they're not getting to do what they want to do. And I am doing precisely 0 delegating - I really bad at that. ::sigh::
I think I should go to bed.
I'm probably too tired to be even thinking about it all.
Night night.

I'm too hot and I'm too weighed down to say anything today.
Blah and other assorted words.
A head full of shoulds and oughts.
Going nowhere.
Weight.
Weighing.
Weighted.

The future.......

My brain just exploded. I just read the date 2016. The year, the date, 2016. Is it just me or does this look like a totally made up date? My brain can cope with 2012 - 2013 and beyond? Nope, doesn't exist.

I try, I really do!

Dumbo here went and bought a bunch of yarn for Christmas knitting yesterday and misremembered the U.K. equivalent of worsted yarn. I know have an excess of DK rather than Aran.
Moral of the story?
Don't yarn shop on impulse when you accidentally pass a yarn selling shop. When will I learn to bloody well write down things and not rely on memory - which I know to be rubbish. I should have restricted myself to the bamboo dpns which I knew I needed in 3mm for plane knitting and left it at that.....
::sigh::
I guess I'll be ransacking Ravelry for DK neck warmer patterns now.....if you've any ideas then flag 'em up for me please!

Moving on.
I am not one of Pavlov's dogs. (obviously)
Arimidex=worsening hot flushes - especially *sugar* connected ones.
But, I don't learn. You'd think that if you ate something with sugar in and then had an evil hot flush a few minutes later you'd start to associate them with the sugary things and not want to eat them any more. Nope, not here, doesn't work. I crave sugar, eventually cave and eat something sweet, have hot flush, throw open windows or pull off jumpers or remove socks or all of the aforementioned, curse myself for eating sugar. Rinse and repeat.
Utterly dumb.
Of course, it's pretty hard not to have any sugar but I hardly eat fruit; *definitely* no fruit juices - they're pure sugar; I fall down over cake/biscuits and I go through phases of craving coke (during which I loathe myself). But most of the time - water only. Really. Just water. By the pint.
If I'm on my own I probably won't eat hot food either. Eating anything will bring on hot flushes - so I put off eating until I'm really hungry, at which point I'm really hungry so I eat anything quick and easy. Hello biscuits. ::sigh::
I'm guessing the homoeopath may increase my Belladonna dosage in a couple of weeks time. Which helps. But it doesn't cure it all. Which is what I want. I'd like to sleep on my nice 100% cotton sheets as opposed to the poly-cotton mix ones which dry out more quickly when you're sweaty at night. I'd quite like not to be the person in my office still sitting there in t-shirts whilst everyone else is in sweaters.
::sigh::
End of whine.
Drip.

Cooking dangerously

Red Velvet cake is *very* red......making it turned my fingers red.
Plus it had the oddest icing I've ever had - which was a butter cream icing with the addition of some flour cooked in milk and then left to cool before being stirred into the butter cream. Tasted fine but had a slightly gelatinous texture and was shiny and not entirely smooth. Odd, not unpleasant, just odd.
I do like to live dangerously when having people round for dinner - I'm not one for cooking old favourites - it's new recipes down the line. Hence the Red Velvet plus improvised duck. Which fortunately turned out well.....I think I like to stress myself out!! ;)
Still, now we head into the season of Christmas food - not so much trial and error there. (Although I am contemplating whether I can make some version of mincemeat with dried blueberries and cranberries - my dad can't have raisins/currants/sultanas because of his kidneys. Technically he probably shouldn't have any dried fruit at all - high potassium levels - but I was hoping that since fresh blueberries and cranberries are ok we might get away with it......shall continue to ponder.)

Think warm thoughts

Because it's now wintery and dark at early o'clock in the evening I'm starting to feel all gloomy. So a quick sally into the summers' photo collection is in order. Join me!









A hot afternoon in York












Dressed up in my finery for a wedding








A sunny evening by Campbeltown Loch












An attack of the owls








This is what happens when I get hold of the camera - we get artsy photographs looking at perspective and focus....

Over my shoulder

I have six pairs of waterproof trousers hanging up in my bathroom - still covered in mud. I cunningly attempted to have a bath this morning whilst still leaving them hanging up. It wasn't entirely a success since I ended up with several leaves in the bath with me...... Tomorrow I will tackle them with a scrubbing brush and the shower attachment.
Of course, from my vantage point in the bath this morning I observed that one pair actually has a torn leg; given that most of them hadn't even been worn before last Saturday means I am not pleased. So, I shall have to trawl ebay for another pair to replace them.
On the up side - at least I shan't have to clean that pair!

I was trying to explain to someone the other day that I cannot plan anymore. 2010 is the centenary of U.K. Guiding and there will be grand events afoot - and I dearly hope to see it and take part but I just find it very difficult to engage in planning for that far ahead. Actually, I find it very difficult to make plans for next week never mind next year. And it's not that I'm consciously thinking that I'm afraid to make plans or somesuch - my brain literally melts at the thought of planning things. I have no concept any longer - the future is just white mush in my mind.......
And perhaps I being just a little pissy with it - maybe something along the lines of "if you're not going to give me certainty in my life then I'm not making plans and being let down". It's kind of a feeling of avoiding being tricked or caught out. All cancer seems to achieve is making me even more obstinate.....

That whole work thing

I survived.
The first day. Over. Done.
Wasn't as bad as it could have been.
And I got my desk back too - without having to ask. All that trauma for no reason! ::sigh:: Typical!
I skulked in at 10am without being spotted and quite shamefully lurked in the journal stacks until I could get to the stairs without being spotted. As I stood there peering through the journals I thought how much more embarrassing being caught lurking in the stacks would be compared to just having walked in and said 'hello' to people......but I got away with it anyway.
I stood outside the office door for a few minutes and it took a couple of goes before I could bring myself to actually go in. Once there it was bearable - I saw straight away that my desk was clear which took me out of my defensive mode a bit. My two immediate colleagues were pleased to see me and were welcoming without being too fussy or prying or "how are you?".
I spent the day in pottering - unpacking my stuff, trying to sort out my computer which in my absence has gone a bit potty. Initially it was having fits and telling my profile was too large - which turned out to be because it was saving multiple copies of my Outlook archives - who knows why! But the remote IT helpline people fixed that. However they couldn't work out why Workflows - the cataloguing program we use - was refusing to open. So they'll come and look at it in person tomorrow.....
Other than a little chat with my line manager about who the new folk in the office were it really wasn't much of a day. I was on the tired side by the time I went home at 3pm but wasn't completely exhausted - which was good. The real question remains of exactly how much cataloguing I actually remember; plus having to learn the new procedures and MARC 21 rules.....
And tomorrow I imagine I'll get to start investigating all this!
I had today off and I'll have Friday off too - a very gentle start with 2 days this week and probably 3 next week, plus I'm sticking at 10am-3pm for as long as I can wangle it!! :)
The only iffy bit of the day was the giant 'diss' from the girl who had been in my desk and had been moved. We did the whole nod and 'hi' thing and I said something like "[are] you alright?" and she responded with "not really" and I went all "oh, mumble" and then she proceeded to say to me "How are you? You're looking...." [pause, she looks me up and down] and I can't remember her exact word but basically something along the lines of 'not too bad'. At which I imensely insulted - plus quite amused. Mostly because I hate it when people tell me how well I'm looking - and here I was being insulted at being told I wasn't looking well!! Actually, I think most of the insult was from the fact that I'd dressed smartly for work and was actually wearing make-up for the first time in an eon. So - there we are.
Let's hope tomorrow is as mostly pain-free.

Peace

When I was around 16 or 17 I read Remarque's "All Quiet on the Western Front" and I think I can quite definitively say that that book shaped my feelings and opinions on war. I could say it moved me; I could say it horrified me but actually what it did was leave me huddled on the floor, crying and rocking saying "I didn't know; I didn't understand" - for several hours. I don't think I've ever felt so guilty; so sick; so disgusted to be part of the human race - that we could kill each other; that we could kill our young. That we could have so little regard for each other that we would give in to such primitive emotions.
For many years after that I always wore a white poppy for Remembrance Day. And I can say that doing so brought me some unwelcome attention that you perhaps wouldn't expect. I wore that white poppy because I never wanted another young man or woman to die at the hands or intentions of another engaged in war. I did so because I felt so strongly that the loss of all those lives as the result of war was devastating; because I felt so distressed by the thought of all those children and wives and parents who lost sons in distant wars; because I felt so angry that these men had sacrificed themselves for those loved ones. Because in my mind they should have lived. I never wore it because I wanted to show disrespect for those who had died; or because I didn't value their sacrifice. I wore it because I wanted a better, a peaceful future - because I didn't want their sacrifice to be in vain.
But that disrespect; that lack of compassion; that was what other people seemed to see in my white poppy. In actual fact - even when I wore my white poppy I would still give money to the British Legion; and go to Remembrance Day parade services.
I haven't worn a white poppy for quite a few years now. And I've felt guilty every year that I haven't. Today I felt that wearing that red poppy had made me an accomplice to the deaths of all those Servicemen and Servicewomen in Afghanistan and Iraq in recent years. I haven't been setting the right example; I actually haven't been honouring those who have lost their lives for a better future, I've been letting their deaths become the status quo. I don't want men and women to go to war - I want us, the human race, to start learning and communicating and to start being one human race with regard and respect for life not just for lives lost.
And yes, that's a high ideal. But I think that I would rather we strove for high ideals than fulfilled lesser expectations. And whilst we don't strive for peace - we are resigning ourselves to wars.
If you have sons and daughters, wives and husbands, mothers and fathers involved in armed conflict - understand this: I want them to come home to you. I want them to live in a world where they are not asked to sacrifice themselves. I do not lack respect for what they do; I do not lack appreciation for what they do and have done and I certainly do think that we should remember all those who have died in past wars and current wars. And I have done so. But I want a different world for them, for you, for us, for me. One where we are all safe. One where it *is* quiet along the front; because there is no front. And certainly not a world where a young man sees his friends shot and blown up and hit by shrapnel and losing limbs and life.
Peace be with you, wherever you are.
So, today this blog wears what I did not today - the white poppy:

Hi ho, hi ho....

It rained and rained and rained and rained today.
So I didn't go out and celebrated my last day before going back to work by staying in my dressing gown until 2pm.
And finished knitting a sock. Which fits perfectly. Excellent. Very pleasing to have got all the measurements correct. Plus my cast off cuff is an excellent tension and goes over the heel very easily but still stays up around the ankle.
I'm still deciding exactly how I'm going to react to the fact my desk in inhabited by someone else. And what the hell I'm going to say to people. I think "Hello, please don't talk to me" probably isn't really going to set the right tone. But I do mostly want to not talk to people.
::sigh::
The problem of having turned a bit reclusive.
It's the fake jollity I can't stand the thought of. And I know I'll end up doing the "I'm fine!" Lalalala.
I've been trying to train myself to say "Oh just trying to catch up with all the gossip round here!" and if pressed about how I am "Oh, it's all very dull; let's not talk about it - I hear there are changes afoot with the the ED and TLs"
But that still feels very fake jollity.
And I must not say "Back off bitch!"
You know when you see in films and Sci-fi things when someone's been taken over by some Alien consciousness and they're struggling to remain themselves but the Alien keeps cutting in and making them say inappropriate things - I feel a bit like that sometimes. Like there's some really pissed off alien in me that sometimes just wants to cut in with things like "Oh just fuck off!" and "Screw you!". Obviously so far I have kept the alien under control but I worry that one day I won't.
I also know I'm going to feel horribly guilty about not having responded to the emails and calls from a couple of members of staff whom I was friendly with. I have emailed and said I'm coming back and apologised for that and explained that I wasn't really talking with anyone but I'm not sure that it's really mended fences.
::sigh::
I guess I'm really not looking forward to going back. I didn't really think I was. And I knew that I wouldn't really know for certain until I got to crunch time. Well, crunch. Here we are.

Clonk! My head hitting the floor.

Posts for the last 2 days read something like the following:
7/11/08
Argh! Hit Morrisons 15 minutes before they close for ingredients for my guides cooking competition entry. It's midnight! I'm still printing out cooking competition judging forms. I still haven't decanted 2 litres of meths into smaller bottles for use tomorrow. Personal kit? What personal kit? What? *I* need wellies too?! Some more argh!
8/11/08
Plan says leave house at 8.30am - actually leave house at 9.10am - can I hear an 'argh!'?
Rain! Nonono, rain go away! Rain goes away mostly.
Campsite is absolute sea of mud.
Cooking is largely a success.
I eat lots of strange food in the pursuit of the best meal. Including chocolate porridge with marshmallows.....strangely good, strangely sick-inducing.
Noone burns themselves/otherwise sets fire to themselves or things; noone chops their fingers off; noone drinks meths and blinds themselves. I call this a major achievement.
Run out of time for proper pioneering - I throw together a few a-frames for guides and brownies to play with. Fairly successful.
Trees are planted; but not by me. I spent the remaining time trying to match up pieces of trangia and re-pack the 4 crates it took me 3 days to pack in the first place.
Attend official tree-planting ceremony. Admire virulent green cakes.
Pack up more stuff. Return stuff borrowed. Undo knots and lashings on a-frames. It's dusk by this point so I'm untying by touch rather than sight. Good job I know my lashings and knots and haven't tied any grannys by mistake.
Make Dear Other load the car. Incidently The Dear Other was also 'made' to be one of the judges for the cooking competition. He handled it admirably - even the threats made by one guide of holding a grudge forever if her team didn't win. Apparently she was joking.....
Eat virulent green cake in hopes that the pure (green) sugar would keep me going til we got home. It was exceedingly sweet, and did I mention the green?
Get in car through tricky procedure of removing waterproof coat, pulling down waterproof trousers so I could sit in car, remove wellies so I can pull waterproofs off the rest of the way, put on trainers, sit in car, groan, take pill I should have taken mid-afternoon, groan.
By the time we got home I had stiffened up so much I could barely unfold myself out of the car.
Asleep in bed by 8.30pm. Deeply sad.

Today?
Today was Remembrance Sunday, so church parade with guides. Nearly disgraced myself by giggling at the Sweet Camden Lass' enthusiastic reading. It was the intonation on "Adulterers!" that did me in. Aparently it had a lot of exclamation marks. Was excused chaperoning the trip to High School Musical 3 in favour of going home and rewashing the 6 trangias, unpacking my crates, washing blahs and blahs and blahs. Blah blah - it was dull, I cannot face thinking about it again - yawn. I have *not* attacked the 6 pairs of waterproof trousers that need seriously demudifying: treat for tomorrow. Then in a relaxing, total change of pace I get to go back to work on Tuesday. Which is seriously going to eat into my knitting time. Shame.

Brain overload

It's raining again and I'm all of a confuddle as I try to count trangias and knives and wooden spoons and teatowels and a multitude of other things
And write last minute letters to parents saying "wellies! Dear God, send your daughter in wellies!"
I brought home 2 litres of meths today - it's amazing how noone bats an eye as you buy two litres of flammable liquid.....
The Dear Other is coming to this event and one of the organisers asked if he'd be able to help with the digging......I didn't laugh. He's perfectly capable of doing lots of digging; but it's the sort of thing that he'll get bored and frustrated with very quickly.....probably in a manner similar to a brownie. Hee. That'll be fun!
In the meantime, I still need to test 4 trangia burners - I don't want to be caught out. Plus, work out what to do with the group of Guides coming who have only told me this week that they're coming but have decided not to take part in the cooking competition.....erm - here's a field. Sit in it. I think they've defaulted themselves into helping brownies plant trees.....
Plus printing. I have to print and photocopy things and remember things and make sure my second group of Guides know what to cook.....eek.
Argh.
Urgle.
Then I'm watching High School Musical 3 on Sunday. It's called "how to bribe brownies and guides to come to church parade". And I don't feel good about it. (that may be the "start of something new" - ack!)

Brand new day

On waking up and checking the good ol' internets I have actually cried.
With relief.
I may have been born in the U.K., I may never have lived in the U.S.A. for any great length of time but I am American (and I'm British - I'm both). My mum worked hard as my brother and I were growing up to instil in us a sense of identity as Americans. And having that identity has not always been easy. I encountered a lot of scorn growing up; I don't sound American and I don't go around with "I'm a U.S. citizen" tattooed on my forehead so I could not tell you the number of times I've been present when someone has been making generalised slurs about American people. Now, I know there are some pretty odious American people out there in the world - but there are equally some pretty odious British people out there in the world too; because people's actions and attitudes are defined and moulded by more than their nationality. Then, I'm afraid, the whole Afghanistan/Iraq-thing brought more anti-U.S. (or anti-George Bush) feelings to elements of the general British public.
I would like a United States that I does not require me to go around defending part of my nationality. And I hope Barack Obama and the increased Democratic representation in both the House and the Senate will put the U.S. in more of a position that Europeans can understand and will feel they have something in common with.
I know it's pretty unusual for me to get political on this site - and I hope that doesn't send any of you up there in arms (which I defend your right to bear - I wouldn't myself and quite frankly I'm alarmed by the number of children and young people that get hurt or killed by firearms. If you have 'em - *please*, *please* don't give them to your eight year old to play with or leave them where your teenager can get at them if they decide they're having a bad year at school.....but, the Constitution says you can - and I respect that.) I voted this year (and I have voted in every election since I was old enough to vote in 1996 - even from overseas) If you're disappointed that your candidate didn't win - I'm sorry; I can relate - I've felt like that the last two times. It's wretched - and we feel wretched because we care about our country. We think that care should come in different ways - but remember, I have a British ethos at the base of my beliefs. I *really* believe in healthcare that's free at point of use (it's not free, the money for it doesn't come out of thin air) - I've paid for my health care; I've just paid for it a little bit at a time in every paycheque - in my taxes. And yes, "Who's this FICA guy and why's he getting all my money?" (Except we don't have FICA here, obviously) But over the last four years I'm really grateful that I paid my money that little bit at a time and wasn't forking over handfuls of cash at every chemotherapy appointment.

End ramble.
Hey, the guy I voted for won. And, yes, I'm from Massachusetts - so it's not like my vote upset the applecart and turned that whole election around. So I'm happy. But I'm sorry if you're not.

Too late

Ah crap.

Crap crap crap.

How did I miss this?

Well, I know how I did - I'm just really angry that I had left such a big space since I last emailed her. Too slow. Too sporadic. I hate that I'm like that. I wish I'd leapt up and visited her as soon as we'd emailed. In my head I always hoped we'd meet in real life. I think I would have liked Dee a great deal in person; I liked her a great deal in the written word.

I'm sorry Dee; and I'm so sorry for your family and friends. I hope it all played out like you'd planned.

Beastly, beastly disease....

If you can't turn it into literature then there's no point

Ow.
Back.
Hurts.
I'd blame the hopeless chairs I had to sit on for 2 hours except it had started to ache a bit before then.....
::sigh::

Here we have my evening in poetic form:

Creak, creak go the chairs
They are too small anyway
Ridiculous seats.

Some meetings are dull
Plus some people shouldn't speak
Yawning not allowed

The Body Haiku:
I am sick of aches
One part after another
Please just go away

Alternatively:
Ibuprofen, yay!
Plus a hot water bottle
Improves things slightly

My day tomorrow:
Tidy up again
Ring about insurance quote
Finish weekend plan