Emergency Surgery: The 23rd Birthday Saga

Okay, let me first explain what the surgery is all about. About five months ago I discovered that have pilonidal disease, which essentially means that I was born with cysts under the skin in between my butt cheeks. Not an attractive description, but there is simply no way to sugar-coat that one. Over the years, one of the cysts created a sinus to the surface and when I was 16, that cyst became abscessed. It was extremely painful, but at that point I had no idea what was happening, I only knew that my ass hurt and that it was totally embarrassing. I went to a doctor and he just lanced it and sent me on my way. I was told that if it happened again within six months I'd need surgery to fix it, and if not, well then I'd never hear from it again. Six months transpired without a peep from my ass crack, and I eventually forgot about the situation completely. Fast-forward to last October. I plopped down on the couch one night and to my horror I felt the dull ache between my cheeks that I knew could only be the beginning of another abscess. Within 24 hours the ache turned into moderate-to-severe discomfort and sitting down had become but a wistful memory. I went to the doctor that night and went through the lancing song-and-dance and proceeded to be in immense pain for a few days. It was then that i decided that I would have the surgery as soon as my vacation time kicked in the following April. 

That brings us to this past Monday, my birthday. I was really excited for Monday to come, not because it was my birthday (I turned 23, it stopped being exciting once I became old enough to drink), but because I had an appointment to get my auto loan refinanced, because I'm apparently becoming my mother. I was all revved up to go do the thing when I couldn't find the title for my car. I seriously couldn't believe it and at the same time I was totally not surprised. Something awful always seems to happen exactly at the moment when I almost have my shit together in life.... anyway, needless to say, I would not be getting a better interest rate THAT day. I was totally pissed off at myself, but I decided to just lug my ass to the always-pleasant DMV the next morning to get my new title and get back on track. That night at work I was doing an incoming inspection in the cabin of an airplane and I was checking out the headphone jacks for the entertainment system when I sat down in one of the seats and POW! that lovely stab of pain  reported from my beleaguered butt crevice. Shit. I decided that I'd had it with all this butt-drama and I was going to end it once and for all. Hence, the surgery. 

It went down yesterday morning and I was understandably terrified as I have never had surgery before (wisdom teeth don't count, everyone goes in for that).  I'm happy to report that everything went okay, the nurses were really nice and I got put under for the procedure, so I didn't feel a thing. I remember babbling about airplanes to the surgical nurses and in retrospect I'm pretty embarrassed about it, but I'll never see those people again. So now I'm just siting at home languishing. The weird thing is that it still doesn't hurt much at all and that doesn't seem right. I keep expecting my butt crack to suddenly explode into unbearable pain, and for there to be much wailing and gnashing of teeth..... Let's hope I'm wrong and having three big open incisions in my but just isn't supposed to hurt somehow. 

Also, Alicia got me the coolest gift for my birthday. Its a mounting frame for the wine-cork corkboard that I've been saving corks to make. She also tied balloons to my toolbox and gave me a tiny cake. It was awesome. 

March 9

The big day has come and gone and I'm beyond relieved to report that I still have a job. It doesn't mark the end of rough times, of course, but it has boosted my morale. I still have to worry about future cuts and there's been talk about furloughs, but at the moment I feel pretty okay about my job.

I've realized that I hate money because I never seem to have enough of it. Time is another resource that appears to be slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate. I'm 22. I shouldn't be freaking out about getting older yet. But the sad fact is that I know I'm not doing what I know I'm capable of. Here's the basic floorplan of my dilemma: I know that I like working in aviation, I dare say that I'm even good at my job, but it's not my passion. For the past couple years I've been struggling with myself about college, namely WHY I was even going. I've tried on so many different visions of myself; first The Graphic Designer, which of course didn't fit because I discovered that not only are paying jobs hard to come by in that field, they typically don't pay that well to begin with and I was over being broke all the time by age 19. Next up was The Interior Designer. Not a badly paid position, and really if you watch HGTV, apparently not a hard job to score after graduation. The problem? Getting into the junior-senior year coursework. For some inexplicable reason, schools like to accept a large amount of freshmen into the interior design program, but only about 18 get to progress on to their junior year.... I'm not big on busting my ass for 2 years (and paying for it myself) only to have the door slammed in my face. I'll admit I gave up on that one before I even gave it a chance. Then there was The Architect. Not sure what planet I was residing on when I came up with that one. I hate math more than just about anything and it only took one semester of semi-advanced college algebra to bring me to the harsh realization that the required-for-graduation Calc IV would eat me alive. At that point I'd been working at Duncan for a little while and I decided that maybe airplanes were my calling and I just didn't know it for previous 21 years. So the next plan of attack was to enroll at Purdue full time to pursue a degree in aviation technology and the coveted A&P license. That one seemed to be the most realistic plan and I got so motivated to do it that I started planning out which online classes to take while I continued working and what loans I would be eligible for once it was time to take my learning experience to West Lafayette, and even what apartments near campus I could afford, and mapping out my plan to drive home every weekend to be with Shaun -- then came the Michigan-Purdue football game last October. I was so pumped to go see the campus that I would someday be living on, I could barely contain myself. It took approximately three and half hours for all my excitement to drain away, as that was exactly how long it took to get there from our apartment. Three and a half hours. I was down for the count. There was NO way I would be able to conceivably make that journey back and forth each weekend. And then there was the tiny problem of my not being fully convinced that I wanted to work on aircraft til I die. 

And then I gave up for a while.  I spent some quality time feeling sorry for myself, bemoaning the fact that I'd NEVER finish school and I'd always be a failure, blah blah blah. Then, one evening while I was loafing about in my funk, I found myself deeply engrossed in an episode of Iron Chef America and then a realization slapped me across the face. FOOD. I want to play with my food for a living. I was watching the show and I was so ENVIOUS of those chefs and what they were doing was so incredibly exciting to me. They were literally making art that not only looked incredible, it tasted fantastic. That's artistic ability on two levels, and artistic ability is literally the only thing that I possess that sets me apart form just about anyone I've met. So there it is. I figured out what I want to do, but the problem still lies in just how I plan to go about it. Culinary schools are basically non-existent in Michigan and I know its pathetic, but I really have no desire to live away from home for any extended period of time. There's a community college about an hour away that I could go to, and that looks like my best option right now. But then there's the problem of getting financial aid because its only a two-year degree. Also I'm concerned that a degree from a community college won't be taken seriously by potential employers. In short, its my fear that's holding me back. 

Besides school, I recently came to the conclusion that we'll need to buy a house before we get married. So that brings up the money situation again. If we buy a house, how I will I afford school? I just feel like I'm running out of time. Just getting by really sucks. Hey but at least I have a job right??? I think I'll punch the next person that utters that phrase....

What's that obnoxious cliche that everyone uses when reality is no longer what they remember, "the times, they are a-changin" ? Indeed. The economy is continuing to go from bad to worse to unbearable, even though our new president has already taken steps to fix us. What had me mildly concerned as of last post has me in a state of near-panic at this time. Things at work have not improved; just the opposite has happened. Mere days after my last post it was announced that the company would be implementing Stage Two of the contingency plan. Our 401Ks were no longer going to be matched by the company, salaried employees saw pay cuts of varying percentages and all hourly employees had their workweek slashed from five eight-hour days to four of them. Do that math, it comes to only 32 hours a week and an instant 20% pay-cut, if you want to look at it monetarily. I did the only thing I could do to soften the blow and I went back to working the night shift so I can receive the extra pay. So all those things that would only happen if things got "really bad" were implemented in a matter of days from the very first announcement of the pay freeze. That was about three weeks ago. On Monday the big-wigs announced that, basically, all of us taking it in the ass wasn't enough to keep the company afloat so, for the first time in the history of the company, it has come to pass that there will be LAYOFFS. Enter mass hysteria.

Everyone is worried that they're about to lose their jobs, and some of them should be worried. A lot of dead weight has accumulated in each shop over the past two years. In my shop five people have been fired in the past year and there are still plenty of people who shouldn't be there. The decision will be passed down on March 9. So in the remaining 2+ weeks, we will all be looking at each other, assessing, comparing ourselves to every person in the shop wondering, "would management keep me or him?"  What a wonderful place it will be.

In other news, the cake I mentioned before turned out fantastically. It was a huge hit. I am inspired anew to continue following my crazy idea that I could actually make money playing with my food. 

So back to Change. It s the big theme of the new administration, so it's only fitting that something major occur in my own life that will change everything forever. Shaun and I are engaged. Officially, there's a ring and everything. No date set as of now, I'm smart enough to realize that not only will I have to shoulder the majority of the burden of paying for it, but also that weddings, no matter how DIY they are, cost a shit-load of money. So everyone get excite, it's going to be quite the party.

Also, I hate my upstairs neighbors. They have NOT changed. I wish they'd change their address. Maybe to someplace in Russia. 

The Requisite New-Year-Centric Post

It has been brought to my attention that I need to blog more. Never thought anyone would actually request to hear more of my babble, but if thats what the people what, its what they shall receive.

Its a new year, 2009. So far I've managed to compare many events in my life on a timeline in my head and realize that I'm getting older. A decade ago I was in the seventh grade and had recently moved to a new town, I was the "new" girl for the first of what would turn out to be MANY times in my life. If you had asked me back in seventh grade where I thought I'd be in 10 years, its unlikely the answer would resemble much of what has become reality for me. 

For one, I'd have said I'd be a college graduate. That didn't happen.

However, I would probably also have said that I would be rid of my parents, which basically did happen. And I would have assumed that I would be in a stable, mostly-happy, serious relationship (even then, I knew I was destined to become a nester) and I would have turned out to be right about that as well. The rest.... well the rest I wouldn't have seen coming.

At 12-going-on-25 I would have laughed at the idea of joining the military. At that age I was already disgusted with bureaucracy and the thought of having to live with billions of rules would have been enough to make me ill. I also thought I'd live in Illinois forever, eventually migrating to Chicago where I'd undoubtedly be very chic and well-paid. And as for what to be once I'd "grown up"? Why, an artist of course. Or maybe a musician. And I'd make boatloads of money doing it.

Then reality punched me in the face.

First it was the unexpected move to Pennsylvania, a mere 10-hour drive from everything I knew, right smack in the middle of high school of ALL horrible times. Then came the harsh reality that artists don't make money until after they've died and that although I was a decent saxophone player, I most definitely did not have what it took to be anyone that anybody would care about. The worst part? My family couldn't afford to put me through the kinds of colleges that my better-than-most grades were getting me into, but they also made too much money for me to really get any financial aid. And since I wasn't planning on going to school for hydroponic agricultural business writing, I was a mediocre athlete, and I had wasted so much time on extracurriculars to get into those stupid schools in the FIRST place that I hadn't done a lick of community service, scholarships were out of my reach.

What was a free-thinking, liberal-minded, hippie-esque girl to do? Why, join the armed forces, of course! Sadly, I was just desperate enough to go to college and get away from my psychotic father that I was pretty much okay with ignoring everything I believed in to sell my soul to Uncle Sam in return for some money for school.

Fast-forward ten years. I'm 22-going-on-45. I have a job that has nothing in the slightest to do with art or music. And I don't live in Chicago, or any even remotely-large city. 

With 2009 comes our shitty economy. Its been going on for most of the past year and up until this week I was anxious about it, but I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I don't have a job in finance or auto-making, I don't have have a risky stock portfolio, and I didn't buy a house that I couldn't afford with a loan that I would never even be able to hope to pay off. So why be worried? Even gas prices plummeted in December, which was nice for my budget. But here it is: on Monday the bigwigs at work put out an email to the company. Starting Feb 1 we will being going into a pay-and-hiring freeze. If that doesn't put the company in a better place financially, the next step will be to reduce wages by up to 25%. Thats TWENTY-FIVE percent. That kind of cut would put me in the red. After that, they'll stop matching our 401k, which I could care less about, since I'll be canceling my contribution once my paycheck all but disappears. I realize that the company has been through this before, after 9/11, and that everything turned out just fine. But I have serious concerns that this recession is a much bigger monster than the one eight years ago. I keep thinking about other companies that just closed the doors, without warning to their employees. Anything could happen and the economic situation officially scares the shit out of me.

On a lighter note, I will be designing and baking my very first commissioned cake this week. It will be for our friend's 30th birthday party and it will be my official debut into the world of pastry art. I'm excited and nervous that it won't turn out, but the nice thing is that either way the recipient is extremely easy to please. 

Also, it sounds like I'll be going back to second shift

 

Best Xmas Ever?

Let me be the first to point out the boldness of that statement. However, in light of recent developments this holiday season, I am willing to put myself out there by saying that this year may wind up being the best Xmas of my existence.

First was the surplus of money in my bank account at the start of the holiday-spending season for the first time in my adult life. It caused me much glee because for once I knew that I would be able to successfully gift all neccessary persons without stressing balls about a lack of fundage. Next was the rediscovery of my ability to knit. My grandma (Glenda to those who knew her) taught me the highly useful trick when I was roughly eight years old, but after she passed away I stopped knitting and slowly forgot that I knew how. Well, upon the dawning of this new age of knitting I have learned that I'm not only fairly good at it, but that I also very much enjoy creating stuff out of yarn and have become thusly inspired to attempt to make a little money doing it. More to come on that topic in future blogs, I assure you.

Thirdly, I came across a wonderful magazine segment that contains a dozen recipes for cookies that I had never considered making before. Gift idea? I think so. So in the past week I've been in a baking/knitting frenzy, but its been so gratifying to see all the things I've been able to create. Next was the excitement surrounding the annual Toys for Tots drive at work. Last Friday I happened to peek into the solitary box that had been set up, only to see that only six toys had been deposited, and with the drop-off deadline swiftly approaching, I felt a personal responsibility to take action. As I passed people in the hangar, I harrassed them for not putting a toy in the box and began threatening busted kneecaps if the guys didnt get it together and donate a toy. At one point I offered to even go buy a toy FOR them if they coughed up some cash and, lo and behold, somebody called my bluff. People started handing me cash and I started getting excited about the possibility that I could actually make a difference. First $50 accumulated, then $100. I got Alicia involved and in one day we raised $305! The next day her and I went on amassive toy-buying adventure and we were able to snap up nearly sixty toys to put in the box. By the time everthing was said and done, we had two huge boxes filled to the top with toys for underprivleged kids. It warmed my heart and the response to our efforts was so positive that Alicia and I have decided to do it again next year and expand our efforts enormously.

Lastly is possibly the biggest reason for rejoice. Shaun asked me to start picking out a ring. :)

Holiday Madness

This is my first time attempting to blog from a mobile device. I'm so hip, it hurts. With any luck, I will manage to capitalize and punctuate within reason while not falling victim to the only-somewhat-useful Autofill. Autofill gets a big kick out of tricking me into saying things like, "I'd really like a cheeks sandwich" when I text from said mobile device, causing me to look like an idiot and confuse the textual recepient at the same time. Stupid Autofill. Someone needs to come up with a context assistant for it.

The holidays are in full swing and in the midst of my childlike christmas joy, I'm becoming increasingly burnt the hell out. I have nine varieties of cookie to bake, several people that I have yet to shop for, a sizeable pile of presents to wrap (which will consequently grow larger once my shopping mission next weekend is accomplished), and one knitted scarf to complete in the next two weeks. And lets talk about that scarf for a second. That bastard will be FOUR skeins worth of yarn when its complete. Ridiculous. The happy news is that so far, my christmas spirit is still holding up quite well. In fact, I continually have to repress the irrational urge to buy/make gifts for every single person I know. I feel that such an attitude is perhaps endearing, but I'm still sane enough to realize that beyond the time-management complications that would come with attempting to be a one-woman gift factory, it would surely plunge me into financial ruin. So if you only recieved a tepidly funny christmas card from me, try not to take it too personally; I wanted to get you something that you might actually keep, but that damn money tree out back is still not blooming.

My fear this christmas is that my knitted/crocheted creations won't excite the recipients nearly as much as they tickle me.

This concludes the first-ever mobile device blog. For the record, Autofill attempted to pull a fast one on me exactly five times.

Family Business

After nearly six long years, I have reconnected with my little sister today. My excitement and joy are beyond description. I thought for certain that I had seen the last of her, but indeed she exists in her native N.C. and is not only all grown up these days, but she is also a full six inches taller than me. I had a delightful time stalking her on Myspace while we caught up a little via my favorite form of communication: the text message. 

I'd like to take a moment to digress so that I may wax poetic about my love of txting. Its title is quite apt; dropping that one innocent e makes typing the word more expedient. Why bother taking the time to look up a contact, press Send, enjoy the music while your party is reached (which is usually a shitty recording of a shitty song), in order to communicate to said party that you wish to know "wuz up"? In the same time frame I can use txting to recite a minorly abbreviated version of War and Peace to my chum and still discover just WHAT is up. 

Anyway, my sis, who I will call S for the purpose of this blog as she is still a minor, has tuned into this incredibly cute teenager who is apparently a very skilled equestrian. The last time I saw her, she was roughly 10 or 11 so it came as quite a shock to see present-day pictures of her. She actually looks like SHE could feasibly be the older sibling. I am looking forward to getting to know my sister again.

In related news, my little brother officially has facebook. It's a big day.