Dirty Sexy Awesome
Is anybody else watching Dirty Sexy Money? It’s like a modern, campy version of Dynasty, well written, and utterly entertaining. Last night, they had Peter Strauss as a special guest star playing the (supposedly) dead father to Peter Krause’s character in flashback mode. Since his dead body was never found in the plane crash wreckage in which he allegedly perished, hopefully Strauss’s character will turn up alive and he’ll be at least semi-regular on the show. He was terrific and would be a perfect addition to this stellar cast. My favorite character right now is the priest, Brian Darling. He’s so delightfully wicked. Watch it Wednesdays, 10:00 p.m. on ABC or available online at www.ABC.com.
I started physical therapy on my bum knee this week. I’m really committed to it because I really, really, really want to avoid surgery for as long as possible, so I’m being extremely faithful about doing the routine at home. I have to do it twice a day, and I’m finding it takes nearly two hours a day to get that done. Add to that the fact that it’s year-end so I’m getting in all my doctors appointments, my mother is arriving later in the month for two weeks, and I still have all my Christmas shopping to do, all of a sudden, I have no free time. Yeah, I know, whine, whine, who cares.
Angelenos – I know it supposedly doesn’t exist, but does anyone else think we’re having earthquake weather? (UPDATE: Never mind, it's much cooler today.)
Lastly, good luck to Ryan
on his marathon this weekend, and congratulations for raising so much money for lymphoma and leukemia research and care!
The Procrastinators' Meeting has been Postponed
First off, let me thank everyone for the very kind words from my last post. I very much appreciate your sweet comments.
To update, my knee is holding up well thanks to the cortisone shot I had about ten days ago. I'm able to bear weight on it and ambulate almost normally, though I do find it helps to ice it down every day.
I went for an MRI late last week, and I'm afraid my stage-diving days are over. I have a bone-on-bone situation on the inner part of the knee where the cartilage is worn away, and the remaining cartilage is soft and bruised. It could be better, it could be much worse. I start physical therapy after the Thanksgiving holiday, 3x a week for six weeks. Between strengthening my legs and periodic cortisone injections, I hope to stave off the surgeon for as long as possible.
Aging seriously sucks.
I recently read Pattie Boyd's autobiography. To briefly review it, her life has been nothing short of amazing. She grew up in Africa, returned to London where she started modeling, met and married a Beatle, divorced George Harrison for Eric Clapton, and was the muse for two of the most seminal tunes of a generation. In between, she traveled the world over. But she tells her tale in such a dispassionate and almost detached manner, that I really didn't connect with her or feel the excitement that such a journey should engender. I also came away really disliking Eric Clapton to the point that I will endeavor to read his
new autobiography just to learn more about his rehabilitation and how he turned his life around.
Otherwise, life has been pretty hectic. My calendar the rest of the year is filling up fast. I have no idea how I'm going to get ready for the holidays, so I guess I'll do what I do every year... wing it. If I do get around to sending Christmas cards, I'll definitely be using these stamps... an homage to intarsia knitting!
This one time, at knitting camp...
I think the "grand scheme of things" reasons I didn't get the loft are becoming clear. (Here's one of my photos of it.)
I almost backed out of knitting camp last minute this year. Alfie had a rough few days last week, and I had him at the emergency vet the day before I was supposed to leave. His allergies were acting up, but the reason we went to the vet was due to the fact he was vomiting several times a day. I was worried about a GI obstruction or maybe pancreatitis or worse, so off we went to the animal ER.
So after several hundred dollars' worth of negative tests, he came home with medication for the vomiting and an antibiotic, just in case something infectious was brewing. Actually, the tests weren't entirely negatively. His x-rays showed some age-related problems that I need to keep an eye on, but nothing acute and nothing relating to his current problems. (Alfie's almost 14.)
After he had a normal night (his first all week), he woke up Thursday morning "sassing" me (meaning he was back to his normal self), and I left for knitting camp as scheduled.
This camp I go to is about two hours away from home in the mountains where there is no cell service. On Friday morning, I was walking from my cabin to the meeting room with friends, when I noticed one, two, then three steps, my knee giving way. By the third step, I absolutely could not walk on it.
Fortunately for me, there were enough sweet little old ladies in attendance that two canes were immediately available to me with three more just a parking lot away. (Who knew so many women traveled with canes?) So as humiliating as this was, I borrowed a cane from the cutest little 86-year-old woman you've ever met. I gimped my way around the next 24 hours, painfully allowing people to wait on me. (I'm serious, it was so awkward to let people take care of me, I'm so independent in my life.) As luck would have it, someone was leaving early on Saturday (versus Sunday, and I had carpooled with others). Once we drove far enough down the mountain, I was able to contact my sister and arrange for her to meet me back home. We went straight to urgent care where now I was the one subjected to x-rays, etc.
Eight years ago, I tore my posterior cruciate ligament (yes, posterior
, I know that most people injure their anterior cruciate, but I have to be different, you see). At the time, my dad had had his first stroke the same week, and I opted out of surgery and instead rehabbed my knee with physical therapy. It wasn't really ever 100 percent perfect after that. I have posterior instability and laxity, and little did I know I've been slowly damaging my knee since then, compensating for the instablity with other ligaments, etc.
Anyway, the bottom line is I have arthritis in it (which I knew) and also acute bursitis. I ended up getting a cortisone injection (not nearly as horrible or painful as I feared) and a prescription for an MRI to see if anything's torn (areas of suspect for any medical persons out there are my medial meniscus or medial collateral ligament - my injury is definitely medial). Further treatment will be delineated by the MRI, but please, PLEASE keep good thoughts that nothing's really shredded.
So the cortisone shot has helped a lot. I'm still icing and elevating it, staying off of it as much as possible, but at least I was able to get up the stairs to my front door. My sister had to get some groceries for me this morning and help me out with a few things (and godddamn, I was so fucking bossy, I totally had to reel it in), but I'm pretty self-contained now until I get my MRI appointment. A friend is bringing my car back tomorrow or Tuesday (from the whole carpool set up, my car is in someone else's driveway about 15 miles from home).
What a pain. But if I were packing boxes right now, facing a move, and dealing with escrow, my life would be impossible. This last shot is from the bedroom of the loft facing down towards the living area (the kitchen is in the middle). The top picture is the reverse, living room towards bedroom. I'm off to read more of the Pattie Boyd autobiography now.
and I started a peacock lace shawl class tonight, and it looks like it's going to be a good one. This level (advanced) of lace knitting is a challenge in both skill and endurance, but I find the work to be very satisfying. (That's my progress from class on the right, and the sample from the designer below.)
I'm going to knitting camp this weekend - Thursday to Sunday. I'm taking a couple other projects, but after class tonight, I decided the lace shawl is going to get some play.
Over this past weekend, I got as close to buying a condo as I ever have. I haven't really been looking of late, and in fact had decided to target my search for next summer, but my realtor sent me a listing for a loft that was available on a short sale and had accordingly dropped in price $125,000 since Labor Day. (A real-life example of someone who got in way too deep.) I saw it on Friday, took my siblings back to see it Saturday morning, and by Saturday afternoon, my realtor was writing up my offer. Unfortunately, someone beat me to the punch, outbidding me both in price and escrow duration before my offer even hit the table. It's taken me a few days to get over it, but the sting is little less acute today. It was fucking amazing. Okay, I might not be 100 percent over it yet, because I was going to write a little bit more about it, but I'm feeling like I can't go there yet. I can't yet quite describe the 950 square feet of open floor plan with gorgeous hardwood floors, poured concrete counters in the renovated kitchen, exposed ceilings, two full bathrooms featuring a claw-foot tub in one, expansive 8th floor city views in the historic building in the perfect neighborhood. Shit, my heart is breaking again. Enough. I absolutely cannot post the pictures I took. Hell, I can't even look at them.
Instead, here are my spoiled little babies. The girls were sharing that ugly blue fleece blanket when Alfie decided to get in between them. It was a lazy day, so no one budged and no one cared. Phoebe is on the left, Cleo on the right.
A rat, on a cat, on a dog!
A rat, on a cat, on a dog!
Originally uploaded by Declan!
I found this while cruising Flickr - unfortunately, it's not my photo - but this is 20 shades of awesome.