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Showing posts from February, 2014

Indiana Jones and the Malignant Polyp

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Spousal Unit's late-night revelation that my favorite work pants fit me like I "took a dump in them" seems like a pretty good precursor to my post about the colon in the library. Hosted by the UW Carbone Cancer Center , Spousal Unit looked forward to this inflatable walk-through colon (deemed the Stroll-in Colon) for weeks. I'm not joking. You know I'm not. Spousal Unit eagerly leaves me in the dust in favor of the colon. Stranger things have happened. It doesn't take much for him to channel Indy. Though this might be the weirdest place he's done so. Hooray! Normal tissue! Boo polyps. As with many strange educational installments, we learned something. UW developed the virtual colonoscopy, which is completely non-invasive. It's not covered by many insurances yet, and you still have to drink the Evil Orange Barium of Doom, but hey, it sounds a lot more comfortable. I'm betting (without knowing anything about the techni

Apartments Are Okay (If You Don't Mind Always Feeling Annoyed)

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Welcome to today, brought to you by those fine folks (or single entity, or electrons, or whatever) who brought you yesterday and, presumably, tomorrow. Last week, I decided that the apartment wasn't so bad, compared to the nightmarish mountain of responsibility soon to be thrust upon me by home ownership. I could tolerate things like a random leak appearing in the ceiling directly over the papers I needed for my mortgage. I could withstand the thunka thunka thunka  of hideous music at disgusting decibels for three hours of my Saturday morning. The repair crew not understanding that I want the bathroom fan to work, rather than having the mold cleaned off the walls? Acceptable - at least the walls were cleaned. Doing it all myself is a daunting prospect, especially when it involves having zero dollars for an undetermined period of time. I know this is part of the process and I'll get over it; I'm just glad to have a few weeks to think about it all and let it sink in, rath

Home is Where I Don't Live Yet

Yesterday was weird, so while we were at the dealership getting an oil change, I also had a manicure. The day was weird because we bought a house. It's south of Madison. We only saw it for the first time on Sunday, and within a couple hours, we put an offer on it. (It's that kind of market right now.) Three bedrooms, wood floors, and lots of potential. I'd love to share more about it right now, except that hey, we just bought a house. So there's work to be done, and I'll share updates as I can.

Being Good at Feeling Stressed Is Bad

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It's been a while. The short explanation is stress and lots to do, but here's a long answer for those who enjoy hearing such things. Source 1. House hunting. Spousal Unit and I have pulled out the big guns and are cautiously stalking our prey, waiting for the right one to line up in our sights. Actually, I take that back. I'm the one using a gun, so that when the right house jumps in front of me, I can scream in terror and shoot a wonderful idea full of Holes of Terror and Second-Guessing. Spousal Unit is using a net, because he's more sensible about this stuff. As much as I'm great at being frugal, I find it impossible to recognize frugality in large purchases. No matter what I'm getting for the money, I can't help but feel shocked at the numbers. This includes computers, cars, and anything else you can't find in working order at Savers or Goodwill. Spousal Unit can recognize good deals in big numbers; I'm good at curling into a ball and a