I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence lately. All I can write is like “Oatmeal amputee support group! Cup holder! Sting but eighties’ Sting! Wedding Colorado boyfriend Alaska! Knit knit knit knit knit! High of seventy-five, low of sixty-five!” Did you get all that? Let me break it down for you. We’ll pretend this is a blog.
When I sent out my last notify I was complaining that I didn’t feel much like writing lately, and that worse, I didn’t have that much about which to write, which is really a horrible feeling. I hate looking at this page when I haven’t updated in a couple of days; it’s totally annoying to me. Anyway, I told the notify that I wasn’t sure what to write about because nothing has really happened to me as of late, except for this very naughty sweaty dream that involved Sting. Except, not the current Sting, but eighties’ Synchronicity-era Sting, when his face was all angular and knowing. You know that Sting, right? Can you picture what the dream may have entailed? I think the phrase “Oooh, don’t stand so close to me, indeed!” may have been uttered. Imagine my disappointment when I woke up all discombobulated and looked around and realized…it was only a dream. Is this a good time to mention that I secretly loved that horrible movie The Bride? No? Moving on then.
Ummm…oh, oatmeal! Remember when I was all bent out of shape because of my stupid ten dollar crockpot? In December of 2002? All I wanted was some nice steel-cut oats in the morning? Well, I have solved that puppy, let me tell you. All I do is just make it the night before on the stove, and then put it in the fridge (with a little milk on top so it doesn’t get all dried out) and then, 95% of the time, remember to take it in to work with me, and heat it up and enjoy some fiberliciousness. It’s very comforting. I put dried cranberries in it every morning. I am not so much of a breakfast food innovator, I am sorry to report. Oatmeal, huzzah! It’s so nice to have that taken care of.
Yesterday I went to an amputee support group for work purposes. It was CRAZY. In a good way. I was sitting there at the beginning of the meeting and a dude with a below-knee amputation (or BKA as we like to call them) leaned over and said “I can’t help but notice that you seem to have both your arms and both your legs. What’s the deal with that?” I was all flustered: “Uh, yeah! I do!” It turns out that there are some problems in the amputee community concerning people who don’t have amputations: w@nna-bes* and dev0tees. W@nna-bes are folks who, um, wanna be amputated even though there’s no medical reason for it, and dev0tees are people with a sexual fetish for amputees. Yeesh. You can imagine the commotion when my office found out about this stuff ,and what happened when we googled “dev0tee”…it’s too awful to go into fully. Apparently these folks make a nuisance (and worse) of themselves at ACA meetings…like the dev0tees will have their conventions at the same hotel that weekend or something, and will hit on people as they are going to the various lectures and banquets. And of course the w@nna-bes just hang around, I guess, dreaming of the day when they too will be able to get their prostheses fitted. I only mention this because it turns out that there’s some suspicion of non-amputated folks at amputee gatherings, and I guess this dude was just making sure I wasn’t there to get a date or anything. I didn’t say much at the meeting, although I did pimp our studies. It was really interesting to listen, though. One woman talked about the various prostheses she’s had since she was five…her first leg, she told us, came mail order and was carved out of wood. Like a pirate! She talked about swimming at a friend’s pool one day, without her leg on, and there was a little girl who was all fascinated by her and asked a million questions. Her last one: “Does your husband know about this?” Another woman who’d very recently had a BKA told everyone about how she was doing and what she was doing to cope, and she mentioned that she was actually driving, a month after major surgery. She just puts her leg in the front seat and sticks her stump in the drink holder (she has a right BKA) and drives with her left. Isn’t that a good idea? This woman’s daughters were with her at the support group and they were very cool and matter of fact about everything…they kept saying how much better their mom was doing since she had the foot off, and how happy they were when they were out somewhere and their feet hurt and they wanted to go home, and she was all wanting to stay out longer. It wasn’t a Hallmark-y experience at all, this group…in fact one of the things they were all talking about was that non-amputated people get all impressed if an amputee does anything on her own. So while it wasn’t one of those things where I came away all infused with the Majesty of the Human Spirit in the Face of Unsurmountable Odds, or anything. I did, however, have a lot of fun meeting everyone (I even got to meet face to face someone I call all the time for one of the studies, so that was pretty exciting) and thought a lot about the adjustments we make in our lives when various Bad Things happen. One thing this job has taught me, I tell you, is that life really does continue even of you are in a wheelchair or you have a prosthetic leg or whatever. I mean that in the most non-schmaltzy way possible. Life just goes on.
*Yeah, all of a sudden I’m getting all these non-Google searches. See? See what I mean?
Did you know Carl has a for-real blog, like all the cool kids do? Yup. He’s had it for a while but I’ve only recently linked to it for some unknown reason that probably makes me a bad girlfriend. Huh. I never think of myself as a “girlfriend.” I introduce and refer to Carl all the time as my boyfriend (or occasionally, as my “kissy-boy”) but I always whip my head around when I hear him go “This is my girlfriend Chiara.” I don’t know if it’s that I (still) can’t believe I get to date him, or because I spent a lot of time as an angsty teen wailing “I’ll neveeeeeeeeeveer be anyone’s girlfriend, you guys! It’s just not meant to be.” Whatever. Girlfriend, that’s me. Anyway, if you like to read about stuff having to do with linux and liberal politics and things like that, take a gander at Carl’s blog. He doesn’t even have a name for it—I’ll start taking suggestions today, okay?
This weekend is Treasa and John’s wedding. In Colorado. I’m really looking forward to it, not only because two friends will be making a public lifelong commitment to each other, not only because I will get to see Carl for the first time in two weeks, as well as some other friends whom I haven’t seen, for, oh, a month now…but also because I like knowing what the bridal underthings look like when the groom doesn’t. Just gives it a little extra thrill, in my opinion. I am looking forward to a good time in the Rockies and Friday can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned. Plus I will be sporting, among other items of apparel, a beautiful black chiffon shawl hand embroidered by my nonna. There will be dancing and fantastic friends and probably cake. I can’t wait. Don’t worry, though, if you feel left out…I will probably “blog” that too. Lord have mercy, at least next week I’ll have something to write about.