Today is Corey's birthday. He's 31 now. Officially IN his thirties, instead of just BEING thirty. We really ARE growing old together, and it's a nice feeling. I'm very proud of my marriage. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked, "How do you do it?" It's sad that it's more common than asking a divorced person, "How could you do it?"

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It's been about a month since my last entry. It's been a busy one.

I've never been to so many Christmas parties in my LIFE. Corey's company had a party. Our friend Matt (the karaoke guy, he's the one responsible for the MONSTER I've become!) had a Christmas party the next day. This weekend, the hospital is having their annual Snowflake Ball. NEXT weekend, the lab is having a Christmas party. AND, in January, Dr. Nelson is having his annual AFTER Christmas party. Not to mention that we're doing some pretty serious travelling for Christmas. We're taking two weeks off work. We'll be leaving Christmas Eve, and stopping in Folsom to see Corey's parents (and get some rest). That's a 9 to 12 hour drive, depending on traffic, potty breaks, etc. We're going to spend Christmas Day with his folks, and spend the night there, getting some rest. We'll head out on the 26th, and go the rest of the way to my mom's place in Oregon, another 12 hour drive, again, depending on traffic, road conditions, and missed turns. That gives us a few days to spend with my mom and stepdad, and my new little sister, Sasha. THEN, we're going to take a little side-trip to Portland - I have no idea how long a drive that will be - to see Corey's sister and brother-in-law. We'll spend a day or two with them, then head back down to my mom's place. We'll probably spend the night, then head back to Folsom, spend another night with Corey's parents, then drive on back home.
The drive itself has my stomach in knots. I'm a terribly superstitious traveler. I'm always afraid to say anything negative about a trip until it's over. However, I never said anything about Corey having an accident, and it happened anyway. So, here goes.
I'm a little freaked out about this drive. In fact, every time I think about it, I get a knot in my stomach, I get gassy, and I'm more than half-convinced that something bad is going to happen.
Of course we'll be careful, and sensible. I'm not even leaving Folsom without a set of chains in the car, should we happen to chance upon some nasty icy weather. And with all the scary "stuck in the snow for days" stories that have been coming out of Oregon, you can bet your ass we'll be stocked up on non-perishibles and potables. And toilet paper.
My mom has her copy of a story that she wrote for me when I was a little girl, and it's such a great Christmas story. I asked her if she would be willing to read it for the kids. She agreed whole-heartedly, and even promised to finish it. Not that it needs much for closure, but I'm excited to see what she does with it.

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I also found out today that my dear friend Norma passed away in September. I can't believe it's been more than three months since I last saw her. It seems that I wrote something about her awhile back, but I can't seem to find it. Anyway, she was diagnosed with lung cancer, COPD, emphysema. Basically everything nasty that comes with years of smoking. She had told me that if they couldn't take care of it with surgery, she wasn't going to go through the torture of chemotherapy. Her plan was to dress up in her purple satin jammies, her purple feather boa, and her favorite red hat, then take an overdose of insulin. She would be at home, and not dying in a hospital.
It seems that's what she decided to do. While looking up a patient's name, hers came up on my computer screen. It was from August 30th. I felt dread seep in, and I called her home number. It was disconnected. I called the manager of the property where she lived, thinking that if she wasn't successful in ending things on her own terms that she might have been put in a nursing home. The manager confirmed that she had, indeed, passed away. I cried for a very short time. I will miss her. I think I may be more upset that someone found her before the medicine took her, and she did have to die in the hospital. She was supposed to call a trusted friend that would let her be until she was gone, and then later call 911 from her home, once she was gone.

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In other, unrelated news, I lost my ATM card. Well, technically, I didn't lose it. I know EXACTLY where it is.
I went to HR today to pay for Corey's ticket for the Snowflake Ball. Which meant I needed cash. No problem, though, because there's an ATM machine in the hospital lobby. I walked up to the innocent-looking money monster. I swiftly inserted my card into it's unassuming maw. I punched in my PIN. No, not punched, that would imply that I was asking for it. I TAPPED the buttons, informed it of the amount I wished to withdraw, even AGREED to the insane fee - which by the way, would be added on top of the fee my own bank charges me - for accessing my funds. Oh, sure, it made like it was going to play nice. It amicably spit out my twenty bucks and made cheerful dot-matrix thank-you note noises as it printed my receipt. Then it ate my card. Ate it! I mean, yeah, it was lunchtime, and every other person with a lick of sense had passed it by in favor of the gift shop and it's non-card-eating point-of-sale machines, but it didn't have to eat MY card. Bastard.

I took one of the brochures for the bank sponsoring the card-swiping beast. I was polite and cheerful as I asked the ATM monger if they could kindly return my card to me. She was just as polite and cheerful as she informed me that my own bank would have to authorize the retrieval and release of the card by contacting her directly.
I was still feeling good-natured, and called the dictatorship that issued the card. She took a moment to relish the fact that I would not be earning my 1 point per four dollars towards my free round trip plane ticket, or my free 3 nights/4 days in Puerto Vallarta or some place equally exotic, after apologetically informing me that she could NOT authorize the retrieval and release of my card. She would be happy to issue me a new one that "should" arrive in 10 business days. I'm seriously hoping that it gets here before we go on vacation. I'm really irritated that I'm going to have to memorize a new 16-digit number, a new expiration date, and a new 3-digit security code. I hate digging my card out when I'm using it over the phone or internet. Damn that cursed machine. Praise P@yP@l!

the last trail...the next path