Friday, January 23, 2015

Numbers. And pictures.

Good morning!
Used kleenex.  That I tend to throw
away once a day.  Not kidding when
I've told y'all that I'm filthy.
Good morning!
1000+:  The number of times Maybelle and I blow our noses every day.  This is going to have to end sometime soon, because both of us get up in the mornings and have snot crusted to our faces.

100+:  The number of people who've asked how I'm doing, or who've complimented me on my new hair, and who've then told me that they read the blog and/or the City Paper all the time.  Maybe the fact that they're reading my work means that it's easier for them to talk to me.  Otherwise, seeing a colleague who has a visible scar on the left side of their head might leave them not knowing what to say.

9:  The number of texts Catherine and I exchange in a given week.  It's very helpful to have a very best friend who will talk with you about anything anything anything.  For instance, here's a message I sent to Catherine recently:  "I'm an on again off again mess these days.  Xo!" and she texted back, "I love you and I'm sorry you're feeling all over the place.  It's been a long hard week here too.  Love you!"

El Milagro
Trey and Jason.  They're both really, really funny.  And smart.  I took this
picture because my phone picture stuff allows you to move slowly and get
the whole area.  Oh, and we're in Cookeville.
8:  Cookeville, TN.  I'm not sure how to fit 8 into this, but I wanted to be able to put a little Cookeville love into this list.  It's probably the best town ever.  Did I get to hang out with eight different folks when I was in Cookeville over the holidays?  Maybe.  Let's pretend that's the reason it's listed for 8 here.

7:  The number of doctors who are now my doctors.  Seven:  two neuro-oncologists, a neurologist, another neuro-oncology supporter in the team, my ob/gyn, my therapist, and my recently love affair with my new general practitioner.  Fortunately they all accept emails, so I can often find out the answer to things like "Why is my armpit wonky???" at 9pm.  If you need recommendations, I'll give them to you, because these folks really are great.

6:  A fairly common dinner for Maybelle:  a bowl of sweet potatoes, followed by two bowls of O's and milk, yogurt, and two blueberry bars.  She eats all that stuff, and she's six.  How in the world can she eat that much?

5:  Speaking of eating, I'm eating a bagel once mid-morning almost every work day.  I'm starving between 9 and 10:30 every morning.  Toasted sesame seed bagel with cream cheese.  Excellent second breakfast.  C&B staff say, "Good morning, Alison!" when I walk in the door.

George Estreich.  His book is showing
up in two classes of mine.  I'm
sending hearts his way.
4: How many classes I get to teach in a week.  Four classes!  I am thrilled.  Like, completely thrilled.  I'm fortunate that the students in these class are all interesting, with different perspectives and their willingness to share.  I'm going to get to read scholarship.  I'm going to take part in examining how biology students and WGS students approach the world.  This is fun. 

3: Super Ninja Writing Force.  There are three of us--Conseula, Claire, and I--and we're powerful.  And sometimes in our powerful-ness we cry because we're convinced our writing is terrible.  SNWF never accepts the possibility that our writing is terrible:  the two whose writing isn't be examined that day have meaningful guidance and support.  Yesterday it was my turn for them to give me feedback, and I took three solid pages of notes.  I needed help, and they were amazing.

2: I made a pie last night, and I've eaten pretty generous pieces in the last two nights.  Big pieces, and I've eaten two big servings each night.  We should all that this as a good sign, because in the month of October, I basically lost interest in eating for at least a month.  I might have returned to some affection for stuff I can bake.

Maybelle and I waiting for the MLK Day parade.
1:  Precious angel sent from heaven?  Um, no. For example, she's annoying as hell these days with her dance classes.  LH mercy, folks, I've been going to her classes for the last couple of weeks to help her teachers figure out what to do.  Because she's such a nightmare in those classes.  She loves the classes and apparently wants every person there to adore her and allow her to be the center of the universe.

But I do like her pretty well.  Being her mom, living with her, listening her right now while she comes down the stairs--it's all good stuff even when it sucks.

"Mama, sit on the potty," she just instructed me, so I'm going to go up for part of the morning routine.