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Trini Quiroz
Quote of the Moment
“We know where she is at this very moment. We’ve got a lock on her. Soon as I finish these Chicken Tickles, we’re gone. It’s destiny.” The Man in the Hat, Tokyo Suckerpunch by Isaac Adamson
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[ | | 11.06.09 at 10:24am] |
Still so far behind... *weeps*
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[ | | 11.05.09 at 8:59pm] |
I'm 7,089 words into my novel, and I need to be at at least 8,300 tonight to be caught up. Problem is since I've never been cheated on or dumped, I'm having a lot of trouble with the basic premise of the story. Blegh.
Mostly just wanted to post because I found out while having lunch with dad yesterday that Mr. Reynolds died. We called him "grandpa" at the Autumn because he was by far the oldest resident at a whopping 98 years old. The next oldest resident was about 80 if I recall. Grandpa was also the sharpest of all the residents and was fluent in French and Latin and quite proficient at Spanish. He worked for the Boys Club of America and also taught high school French for a while. He also ran the Boston Marathon once which is funny to imagine since when I knew him he only had one leg. I never did find out how he lost it...
Anyway his birthday was the day before mine and he would have been 99 this year. I kind of forgot what else I wanted to say besides that I'll always remember him joining me and Norma for decaf coffee or cereal while we took our break, and how patient he was with me while I was learning how to help him into and out of his wheelchair. He was tiny but he was strong as an ox.
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| 691 |
[ | | 10.30.09 at 2:28pm] |
There is nothing scarier than a person with Alzheimer's trying to go outside the front door because they think they're supposed to. Nothing.
The last couple hours have been the scariest and most stressful I've ever had in this line of work, and it's all because gramma insists that she was with somebody yesterday and that they're supposed to pick her up and take her home. Seeing her mother's furniture here, and having Randall explain things didn't do diddly squat. She seems to have lost her grip on the last few strands of reality she had. I hope this isn't permanent yet, or at the very least if it is, that Fred finally take her to a doctor. They make medication for elderly wandering issues, which happens with dementia. She could use some now, methinks.
Dropped off my application at the coffee shop today. Hope it goes well. Library app is still in the air until Monday.
Over the cold, got a lot of driving in the next couple days, and Lauren and Coree wanna come cheer me on at the half marathon. Sweet lady freedom, I shall bi-curiously make out with you in three hours and 36 minutes!
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[ | | 10.29.09 at 12:35pm] |
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mood |
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 Dammit gramma... |
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I like having this blogging time, but gramma's doing horribly. Also I have a cold. Also it is very cold out. And the vet's office called at 6:30 to cancel Nigel's appointment today. And I need to sneeze so badly my eyes are watering. And the race is in three days and I've barely run since Sunday.
Wah.
Waiting to hear back from the library about that job, and today I'll turn in my application at that coffee shop. At seven there's a meet and greet at Café Milano for folks doing NaNoWriMo. Also gotta stop and get Kahlua on the way home for the goodies I'm making for Randall's housemates (because it gives me an excuse to cook more than I can eat and store) and for the Fatties. There will be extra Kahlua goodness for the Fatties.
Think I'll crack open a Coke. Stuff doesn't really taste good anymore, but it's liquid and it has a flavor.
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| Invidious Tang |
[ | | 10.28.09 at 1:39pm] |
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 uncomfortable |
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Gramma has been asleep all day so far, except for a couple of nervous freakouts with Celia this morning. I'm trying to figure out how to explain to Fred that around the two of us she keeps asking for a doctor, but changes her mind whenever Fred comes in without insisting that her opinion doesn't matter and that if he needs to he should lie to get her to the doctor's. Heck, I know where his number is written; I could make an appointment and kidnap her myself.
The two new rats, Bret and Jemaine, are getting along well. They fell asleep on the couch yesterday afternoon, though Bret, the hyper one, kept waking up to investigate any time I made a sound. Like Nigel they love the ukulele and explore me like little monkeys if I'm typing or eating something. Of course that leads them back to the cage because they can jump and climb, unlike Nigel who's old and fat. I'll introduce them all when Nigel's over his UTI.
I'm trying to decide if I have a cold or allergy right now. Throat was tickly most of the weekend, but I also had some heartburn and lots of burping so I figured it might be hyper acidity again. Alas, yesterday I woke up with my nose a bit runny and today my head is congested. This is what, my third cold this year? What the hell? I usually just get one a year! Is 2009 the year of the tissue or something? I have a 13.1 mile race Sunday morning! I cannot be sick!
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| Good Luck Every Year |
[ | | 10.25.09 at 1:54pm] |
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 pensive |
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Fingers crossed that I get a new job! The Berkeley Public Library is hiring! It's part time and I'd be earning less than I do caregiving, but it's a short commute and would allow me the chance to find a second job to supplement what's missing. I saw a help wanted sign hanging outside The Beanery on College Ave; they likely want somebody with experience, but if I can find anything that pays ten bucks an hour for minimum ten hours a week, I'm taking it.
The other day I realized that I start feeling angry any time I think about San Ramon, especially driving there and leaving the house at the end of my shift. I can't tell for sure, but I feel may be acting a lot more snappy and temperamental in these six months or so that I've been working with the elderly. I'm suddenly fearful of getting old and having my mind be a blank slate and being a burden to my family, and not knowing that despite any love they feel, they also quietly wish that I'd die already. I also feel angry about differing ethics about when a person with dementia really can't decide whether or not they should see a doctor, and that I can't really say anything about it since she's not my relative.
Today I was supposed to hang out with Rich and Jen, who's in NorCal for the weekend, but they haven't gotten back to my messages which annoys me. I know Rich has a big test today for one of his sysadmin classes, so if we do get together, it'll probably have to be tonight. Since it's Sunday Randall is of course at gramma's and I for once am not. It feels good albeit a bit boring. Could read a book and get some inspiration in before NaNo starts on Sunday.
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| I Can Breathe For the first Time |
[ | | 10.22.09 at 7:53pm] |
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 I already said it. BLAH! |
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I love that the Elmwood laundromat has good wifi. And tables! And it's next to a 7-11! Unfortunately no shortage of people that decide to strike up conversation with me. Usually I love to talk to strangers, but not when I do laundry for some reason. In Monterey there was that lady with the dog, the crazy homeless guy and his friend who gave me a pretty rock and a necklace, random folks dropping in from the bar next door. At the place near Randall's it was schizophrenics, the manager asking if I had enough light, and kids asking why I'm drinking tomato juice and making funny faces instead of having a delicious soda. Tonight it's a nice old Jamaican guy showing me a section in a Jamaican newspaper about the educational system and commenting on how amazing it is that in his day people used tuning forks and now there's computers. He liked my uke playing at least, even if I cut my nails too short so it kind of hurts to strum.
Other downside to this place, besides that it's out of the way is that there's a few arcade games, and this girl's been playing Bubble Bobble off and on for a while. Song's getting on my nerves.
There was an exciting two-hour visit to the DMV today, that I feel I should mention. Over an hour and a half of waiting in an uncomfortable chair to get a new license picture and a replacement yellow sticker for my rear plate. I blame them for my very blah mood right now.
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| On another note... |
[ | | 10.21.09 at 4:12pm] |
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I haven't played my uke in two days, and I barely did on Sunday. I can feel my fingers going soft and I feel that kind of low that athletes get when they don't work out for a while. I wish I could play it here but I can't even play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for gramma without her interrupting to ask a dozen questions.
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| A Nonnutritious Treat |
[ | | 10.21.09 at 3:50pm] |
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mood |
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 bored |
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I've been staring at the screen for nearly five minutes now trying to think of something to write that doesn't have to do with work. Not really succeeding.
Part of me wants to quit this gig and work at a coffee shop, but that's not happening. As much as I hate getting paid to literally do nothing for 26 hours a week, it'll be good for not only this year's NaNoWriMo, but also when I start school and need to study. It is however extremely boring and doesn't pay enough. I got a notice from Wells Fargo yesterday saying that I have to start paying my loans back next month which means I have to tell dad that I can't afford to pay my share of insurance/phone anymore. It's a relief but also a huge owch.
The half-marathon is about ten days away. I just realized that I don't talk much about running here. For a long time during training I haven't been able to run more than 12 miles without either hitting the wall or feeling pain, but this last Sunday I finally ran 16 miles! Took a bit more than three hours, so I need to try to run more during the real marathon, but I'm very proud of myself.
Of course it was late in the day and I felt obligated to take Randall to Gramma's since I had such a hard time getting out of bed, and otherwise it would take him over an hour to get there by public transit, so the run was followed by a very boring afternoon of hiding in the living room. I wish I could get paid for that. I don't like going to work and seeing my client unless I'm getting paid for it, even if I try my damnedest not to deal with her while there. It's cold in the rest of the house, the lighting is bad, and I feel weird even though it feels like my own house. Darn, there I go talking about work again.
In other news, I made seitan for the first time last night. A simple recipe is to take four cups of flour, a teaspoon of salt, and about 1 1/4 cups of water to form a sticky dough. You let the dough sit a couple hours and then rinse the hell out of it until the starch has been washed out and you're left with a rubbery ball about the size of a small fist. I think next time I need to rinse it longer so I end up with less chew and more fiber. Damn if it didn't make for tasty nuggets though.
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