Music Today: Listen to Wing
Friday, Jan. 30, 2004 - 12:26 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Too Much to Say, No Time to Say It
(Jump down to comics cover image)
I keep reading entries by people who say they have nothing to write about. Their lives are uninteresting. Nothing to inspire them.
Are they all just victims of burnout or depression? Or are they really hidden away from all books, movies, media, sources of controversy and strife in their lives and the world?? I just don't get it.
I personally am having an energy problem. It is called burning the candle at both ends and the middle. Wednesday night's sleep consisted of 10am to about 3pm on Thursday morning, and another 6:30-9pm on Thursday evening. I don't know about you, but I don't call that a good sleep on Wednesday night. More like desperate catchup attempts on Thurs to make up for not sleeping at all on Wednesday night.
The quicker of mind among you might notice that Thurs from 6:30-9pm is NOT a good sleep time for me. Yes, my flamenco class is 7:30-9:30pm. I attempted a quick nap from 6:30-7pm so as to go, but when I KNOW I have to be up in a half an hour, I don't relax and sleep. So I finally decided sleep was more important that stomping about with good posture.
I DID get up at 9pm in order to combine doggywalkies with dropping by the end of my class in order to pay the teacher for the next session. You can see I have some sort of "pay on time" ethic that the people who owe me money severely lack. Today the publishers of Bear (remember I finished that super rush the first week in November?) sent me a letter asking us creators to support them in asking some Quebec arts council to redefine "Quebec author" to include "Quebec illlustrators", so that they will get more grant money. Now since they owe us all money, this is in our interest. On the other hand, it is hard to find the energy to rally for someone to get free money, who cannot pay you for work done. They added a postscript that they will pay us end Feb or end March. Let me note again, I was supposed to be paid upon delivery of the artwork in start of November. I daren't even imagine when they propose to pay me for the last payment, which is supposed to be when they publish in April. Maybe I can call it my 2004 Christmas bonus?? urk.
Anyway, as I started by saying, I have about three gazillion things a day I want to write entries about here. To wit: "what does it say to other people when you remain friends with miserable asses who have screwed you around?", which was a topic addressed by Sasha in the paper last week, "German cannibal gets life" which was in the news, "The plight of the Aral Sea", "The problematics of being anonymous or not online", "new entries on the predicament bondage classes etc in Toronto", "several funky artists I have discovered in the newspaper", "the issue of race and proportion of populations in prision in the US vs Canada" (there is an article about that in this week's newsweekly.. well, about women in Canadian prisons), "the issue of surgeons with AIDS operating on patients" which is another hot topic here this past week in Quebec. "reactions of BBC listeners to Bush's State of the Union Speech", "sex-negative weird things happening in the states, including the Texas obscenities laws", "the fact that I have a non-date date on Friday night with the Vermont guy of Halloween Past... believe it or not"...As well as news on my dog, my mom in hawaii, the horrid slush on the roads, an article in Harpers' magazine about the evils of agriculture these days (drat and drat... ethanol is bad) etc etc etc.
How the hell can people have nothing to write about??
I shall end this entry which actually says very little, by saying that I am still mulling over what to do about that vet. I cringe to think that I paid $55 and took a day off to drive my dog to get totally checked over, and got nothing but three minutes of briefing about "leg extension" out of it... so I need to call them back and talk to the lady (the vet)... I want to know about exercise, her ears (which I can see they cleaned... I left em dirty so they could look and diagnose it... is it wax or bugs or what?), her weight (I have upped her feed, is she getting fat or underweight?), should I massage her etc. But I also feel I should mention something about the fact I think she is an abyssmal example of bedside manner for the two vet interns she was showing the ropes to. And I want perhaps to see if I can get a different vet to deal with there. She has been nothing but impatient, condescending, defensive and nasty in every interaction I had with her. I'm glad I'm not an aging somewhat deaf little old lady overcome in tears when I hear my dog is not well.. I cannot imagine the lack of patience the vet would exhibit.
So that JL feels better, this IS the good vet... ie the big veterinary hospital to which all the vets send their patients who need specialty care. Any major surgery is done there... it is out of town and you have to wait a long time. My in-town vet would just take my dog overnight, and send her there on my bill.
And I am getting major drugs for her. They arrived today... some sort of liquid anti-inflammatory that is specifically only for dogs who have arthritis, that comes with a handy dandy syringe specially graded by weight of the dog, that you have to squirt on her food every morning. Double dose the first day. She seems to love it, as she gobbled it all up. It can take up to 4 days to show a difference in her pain.
It is called Metacam, Meloxicam 1.5mg/ml... and costs a bloody $87 (cdn) before delivery and taxes. Add on those, and it is over $100 for 20 days. We are talking $2100 a year. Just that. Add to that her ConGlu, which is a dietary supplement for her joints, at $65 a month for the rest of her life, AND her food... and this is getting to be a $4000+ a year doggie. She is 8 now and if she lasts to 12, that is $16,000. Not counting flea treatments, heartworm, or any other interventions she will need, or boarding when I go away etc. Eekola. If only she were tax-deductable.
And so, JL, she may not end up a junkie in a squat, but she may end up a junkie with me in a squat trying to pay for her meds! hehe. Sigh. But for now she is perfectly fine except for all her joints. Goddamn. She is peppy and happy and people never guess she is 8. Many people guess she is a young dog. But now that I know that she has so much pain in all her joints (which explains why she licks her knees and hips) I totally understand it is just simply aging changing her personality that makes her not want to play roughly with other dogs anymore, or have them mount her. It is actually painful. When I play with her, she mostly just pulls the end of a rope. Or rather I pull and shake it around and she just hangs on. I guess when you think about it, it is a rather joint-friendly form of play... the only thing that moves much is her neck! :)
Poor puppies. And my poor wallet. Flamenco. Dog. Self-publishing. Heh. Who has money for anything important in life like world literacy or meals for people with AIDS?? Drat and drat. Though I did renew my Planned Parenthood membership.
This is getting long so I shall sign off now. And any of you who have nothing to write about can take on one of the topics I name above.
I shall leave you with first this very enjoyable website where you can listen to Ming sing... she is a New Zealand immigrant from Hong Kong. I advise listening to Jingle Bells perhaps. She sings like my grandmother (and not surprisingly is a huge hit in nursing homes)... let that just show you that what matters is your dreams and your positive attitude. Listen to Wing Sing.
"Every man knows his follies and often they're the most interesting things he's got."
Hehe. Smaller portion of sleep? Actual needs are chocolate, sleep and money? Hmm. Well, that's it! Have a nice day!
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily