Some censuring Readers will scornfully say, why hath this Lady writ her own life? Since none cares to know whose daughter she was or whose wife she is, or how she was bred, or what fortunes she had, or how she lived, or what humor or disposition she was of? I answer that is true, that 'tis to no purpose to the Readers, but it is to the Authoress, because I write it for my own sake, not theirs. ~Margaret Cavendish in 1655
Thursday, August 04, 2005
life and going to hell in the handbasket
*Found out that Friend Princess Megan has Hodgkins a week before her wedding. She's doing good and really positive, so a big yeah for her! She's made promises of pics of the new pre-chemo hair-do, so I'm looking forward to this. This, of course, will go next to her wedding pics that shows the world that she is super-shundor (beautiful).
*On the 22nd of July, my Honey Rana's middle sister Lata had an emergency C-section and gave birth to Nosim Sama who has spina bifida (of the two forms, the bad one). It's questionable if she will survive. This is what you get in the thirld world... prenatal care that sucks if you can even get any. And if she does survive to adulthood, she'll have survived not only her disability, but also a culture that is not open to such things (most people who have any physical/mental disabilities are either locked away or are beggars).
*Then on the 2nd of August, my dad's younger brother, Uncle Fred, had a heart attack and died about 12 hours later. He was 8 days short of his 54th birthday. I can't hardly imagine what the rest of my family is going through. Today is the viewing and tomorrow is the funeral. Please keep his wife, kids, grandkids, mom and other assorted family members in your thoughts and prayers.
*On top of all this, I really don't like my job currently. Small potatoes in the great scheme of things, I know, but I spend 40+ hours a week doing it, so that's a chunck of time I'm doing something I don't like. Not cool, so I'm going to do something about it. As soon as I have a plan. Glitch. (Shhh... don't tell Mom, she gets upset when she thinks that I might, potentially, be unemployed!)
So, campers, count your blessings one by one. Until I can see through the fog, it's cookie time for me. Ugh... my ass is going to be so huge, it's not going to be funny.