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So.

Since I no longer have a houseful of people, and my computer that was dying a slow death finally died which necessitated the recent purchase of a new one, and now that I have more time in the evenings than I've had over the past year....

I really have no excuse to NOT revive Beejland the Blog.  Right?
Because really, when it's come to the blog over the past year-plus,





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:::dust dust wipe wipe:::

Anybody here?  :::echo echo echo:::


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Two surprises

Mr. Spectacular and I went to the first ever night racing at Churchill Downs tonight and got to be in a fancy shmancy finish line suite.

And I wore a dress.


And he let me post his picture.

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Ain't he cute!



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Hanging my two-timing head in shame.

Dear Beejland Blog,

I have a confession to make.  I’ve been kinda sorta cheating on you. 

And the tart with whom I’ve been cheating is....Facebook.  I know, I know!  I’m so ashamed.  It’s with Facebook I’ve shared my little amusing stories, my recent pictures, and any scoop worth sharing.  It’s so wrong, but....it’s so easy!  I couldn’t stop myself!  Plus they have games!  And apps!  And and....I know, it’s no excuse.  At the very least, I didn’t post stupid MySpace surveys with spooty answers over there - those I save only for you.

Please forgive me?



Now that I’m back....I should share some scoop!  Lots of goings on at Beejland.

A little over two weeks ago, my father died.  There are a lot of mixed emotions about that.  My father was, well....he wasn’t good.  There’s a lot of history that will take too long to get into, and I don’t want to go all “mommie dearest” and publish all the family secret horrors now that he’s dead, but we (my mom and three siblings) haven’t had anything to do with him since 1994.  So on one hand, his dying was like, “Oh, okay.”  But...as irrational as it was, I guess I did hold out a tiny bit of hope that he would realize what he had done/what he was and try to make some sort of amends, or ask forgiveness, or something before he died.  I knew it would never happen, but still...y’know?  Plus, though I’d already grieved the loss of that relationship, the loss of the father I wish I had (a decent person) with his death I grieved it all over again, though not as much.  It was also a sense of closure, that all of the “stuff” is really, finally, over.  Make sense?

So my father’s wife called my oldest brother and said hospice had been called and my father wanted him to come.  He only asked for him.  OldestBrother arrived Friday afternoon and my father died just after midnight on Saturday.  He was 74.  What’s really good about it is that my mom can now breathe an enormous sigh of relief and not live in fear.  (She’s had good reason to be afraid.)  When OldestBrother called to say my father was dead, Mom called me.  And right after she said she was sorry to tell me and that she was sorry I was sad, I congratulated her.  And then we both laughed until our stomachs hurt.  We’re weird, but we’re fun.



The house is somewhat emptier.  More like a lot emptier.  Stephanie has found a place for her and the kiddos (five of ‘em, remember?), and they moved out about a week and a half ago.  So, my wife has left me.  But she’s only 3 miles away.  Hooray!  And the house is great!  Plenty of space for everyone, and it feels “right”.  Y’know when you go to look at a house and you get that “yeahhhh” feeling?  Like that.  So I’m now wifeless, but I got my bed back (been couchin’ it since August).  Kev is hangin’ at her house while I perform work-like tasks, so he doesn’t miss the kiddos.  And I can easily keep her kids when she needs it, and she can keep mine.  It’s good all ‘round.

In other goings on, Mr. Spectacular is taking me to Churchill Downs on Friday.  They’re having night racing there for the first time, and he has tickets for a fancy shmancy suite.  And I have nothing to wear.  Nothing.  Seriously.  My work pants are clown pants and look bad.  Jeans aren’t allowed.  All of this means I have to go shopping. 

I hate clothes shopping.  HATE it!  I’ve hated it for 39 years.  To this day, Mom can say, “Let’s go clothes shopping,” and I will start yawning involuntarily.  I have short legs.  And a big ass.  These make shopping long and arduous.  Thankfully, Stephanie (a.k.a. The Wife) is going shopping with me tonight - she’s good at this sort of thing.  Just like the days of being 7 and shopping with Mom, Steph will stick me in a dressing room and bring me stuff.  “Put this on.  Okay, lemme see.  Oh em gee that looks terrible, take it off quick quick quick!  Now try this one.  Ooh that gives you good butt!  Get those.”  Etc. Etc.  It’s good to have a wife who can fix appliances and pick good-butt pants.

Speaking of Mr. Spectacular, yes he still lives up to his name (people have written and asked).  I’m not supposed to gush over his spectacularness - he says it’ll ruin his reputation.  So don’t tell him, okay? 


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Hey you Canadian readers!

How's it goin', eh?
(Apologies...must channel Bob & Doug McKenzie once in a while.  Drives my Ontario cousins nuts.  Hee).

I've been seeing on the site meter quite a bit of blog traffic from Canada - some from/near Toronto and some in Alberta.  Curiosity is getting the best of me - I wanna know who you are!  LOL  One of the cousins?  Aunt or Uncle?  (If you're an aunt or uncle, disregard any questionable/eyebrow-raising/spooty entries in this blog ::: doing Jedi mind trick wave ::: ).

Speaking of Canadian cousins, I think I found one of mine on Facebook the other night.  Can't say for sure, but her name, age, and location are right.  She has a common name though, so I can't be sure.  Haven't seen her since we were.....20/21 maybe?  To add or not to add, that is the question?








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Trees are good

Mr. Spectacular had an interesting afternoon the other day.  He wrote about it on his blog.


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I gots me a bout of grumpassitis

And I'm going to share it.  With yooooooooooooou!  Aren't you so 'cited?

So I'm doing this iron infusion thing every week.  Three down, two to go.  First one went fine.  Second one not so good - they had to stick me five times to get a good vein.  I have uncooperative veins.  Good thing I don't really feel it when they stick me or when they start digging around to get a good spot (poor nurses are near tears thinking I'm in excruciating pain, and I'm just smilin' and tappin' my toe).  A few hours later, though, the stick sites get sore.  But not so bad, right?

The nurses told me that if I drink lots of water before coming to the office, that should help them find a good vein.  So I did my chugging before going in this morning.  Didn't help much.  

Good news is that it only took three sticks this time to get a vein that would hold.

Bad news:  on the second (right hand) try we thought it was okay, but a minute after she started the saline drip, it started burning.  That means the vein has blown and the saline was going into tissue.  I had a large marble-sized squishy saline lump at the wrist bone.  On the third try (left wrist) it worked, but the iron irritated that vein and caused a reaction - stinging pain from the needle to 5 inches down my forearm, and a 2-inch spot where hives popped up on my skin. 

This infusion thing is starting to suck.


Three down, two to go.  Just keeping saying it (until Monday afternoon, then four down, one to go)

This had better friggin' work, dadblameit. 



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They wrote me back...

Got a response to the gripe I sent to National Geographic.  The email stated:

"Please understand that testing different rates is a common marketing practice. The offer you mention is targeting new subscribers. The offer enables potential customers to review the magazines at that low rate to decide if they would like to continue with a subscription. Because we value your business, we will be happy to extend your current subscription with that offer, if you like. You may visit our website and renew your subscription from there. Or, if you prefer, you may return this e-mail with your full name, complete mailing address (including city, state, and zip code), and account number. Please include your order and billing instructions. We apologize for any confusion and look forward to hearing from you!."

Now see, I wouldn't mind paying 20 bucks for a subscription.  It's a great magazine and Kevin really enjoys it.  But to allow people to believe a renewal is 20 bucks when they can do it for 15....that's sneaky.  "Common" perhaps, but sneaky.  Grrr.  I'd already signed Kevin up at the $15 price before I got the response, so the offer is pretty much moot. 

One thing I do appreciate is that the response I received appears to be original/specific and not a generic "blah blah" response like we get so often these days.  Thank you, NG, for responding to my complaint in a more personal way.  I'll continue TheBoy's subscription for years to come, but I'm not takin' the price on the renewal slip as the final price anymore.  Dammit.



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I'm gonna be one o'them complainer people

Remember World Magazine?


I LOVED that magazine as a kid.  It's National Geographic Kids now, and Kevin loves it as much as I did.  What a great mag - the articles, the pictures, the creative ideas.  Kev saves all of his issues and rereads them (just like I did.  In fact, I have that issue in the picture up there - from 1978 - in a box in the garage.  I'm a packrat and I'm proud).

But I'm kinda miffed at them right now.  So I wrote 'em a letter that explains the source of my miffedness:

I recently received a notice
via U.S. mail to renew my son's National Geographic Kids subscription for the price of $19.95.  I decided to do the renewal online and visited the National Geographic website.  There, the price for a subscription is only $15.00. 

Why the difference in
price?  I would think that National Geographic would offer a slightly lower price to current customers as an incentive to renew their subscriptions, not punish them by charging them more. 

Is it me or is that just sneaky and wrong?  I understand offering a lower price if subscribing online, but current subscribers should be notified that there's a lower price by subscribing online.  Shouldn't they?  Dadblameit.

I'll let ya know if/when/how they respond.

* * * * *

So, there's stuff going on. 

My family doc has been battling my anemia since September and not getting anywhere, so she sent me to a hematologist a few weeks ago.  Did you know that, often, hematologists are also oncologists?  I didn't.  So  imagine how much I freaked out when I called to make the appointment and realized I was calling an oncology office.  ::: insert music of doom here :::

Dr. Bloodguy says I ain't got no eye-ron and that my red blood cells are small (well yeah...they're cells.  Ba-dum-bum).  He asked if I'm extremely tired and my response was, "I'm fat and I don't go to bed early enough.  Of course I'm tired."  Heh-heh  I can't say there's a real noticeable difference in how much energy I have, and he said that's because I've been anemic for so long that I perceive how I feel as normal.  Makes sense.

There are a number of possibilities for the cause, and Step 1 of solving the problem is for me to have 5 weekly iron infusions - which means I get hooked up to an IV every Monday for a big bag of brown stuff.  Hooray.  Just did the second infusion on Monday.  Do I feel any better.  Nope.  But Dr. Bloodguy said I likely won't notice a difference until the third or fourth.  If this doesn't work, we move on to other things, like scopes and biopsies.  I'd rather not have any cameras up my arse or prodding of the insides of my bones, so let's hope these iron infusions do the trick.

Oh and for those who are wondering, Mr. Spectacular is still quite spectacular.  Moreso as time goes on.  I'm pretty dadblame lucky.








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Today is a special holiday.

Indeed.

Today is Pete Townshend's birthday.  I think we should officially deem it a holiday:  Petemas.

Thank you, Pete.  For all of it.

Happy Petemas!






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