Montana Family (Dogs Included)

Noticably absent from these pics, of course, is Pat. Unfortunately, he was only around for the first few days (most of which I wasn't feeling that great), and not much went on the way of excitement during that time. Also missing is my stepdad, who was in Washington for a baseball tournament for most of the time I was in Montana. Such is the life of a baseball dad, I suppose.

The Homeland

Sunsets, mountains, the Yellowstone River, fishing, cow crossings. Oh, and my Happy Place, on a chair with the sun shining on my legs with a good book in hand. :)

The Time I Needed an Emergency Appendectomy

By now, I think most of you who read this blog are well aware of the events preceding our 4th of July trip to Montana, but just in case, here's all the details.

I woke up on the morning of June 28th with a killer stomach ache. Aside from your average indigestion or heartburn, I never get stomach aches, so I immediately knew something wasn't right. Although I tried to convince myself that it was some sort of flu bug, so I immediately crawled back into bed to try and sleep it off. Later that afternoon, the pain had moved to the right side, and I called my mom, who advised me to at least get checked out at the Urgent Care. They took one look at me (or feel rather), and sent me straight to the ER. After roughly 3 hours of waiting (the ER was one busy place, as that day was the first triple-digit day here in Sac and there were many people suffering from ailments caused by the heat), I was finally admitted. After a couple nasty cups of that orange, sugary contrast fluid and a quick trip through the CT machine, the doctor diagnosed me with an infected, swollen appendix. Apparently there were three of us who were admitted that night for appendectomies via the ER, and I was second on the list. I went in for surgery around 2:00am, and was back in my hospital room around 4:00. I spent the next 12 hours in the hospital, and was released upon being able to prove that some of my body's systems were back in working order (I'll spare you the details), and was back in my bed less than 24 hours after entering the ER. The surgery was laproscopic, so it was minimally invasive (I only have 3 small incision marks which are now mostly healed). But this left me with the false impression that my recovery would be easy (boy was I wrong). And I was absolutely crushed about the prospect of canceling our trip to Montana to see friends and family. So after all of 24 hours at home, we packed up the car and made the 15-hour quest to Montana. Pat drove the entire way (have I mentioned how much I love this man??) while I rested comfortably in the back seat, knocked out by narcotics and sleeping like a baby. Those first four days or so were more painful than I anticipated, but I'm proud of the fact that despite my seemingly bad luck when it comes to medical issues, we were able to make our trip and spend some time with loved ones. Pat left Montana after five days, as he had to be back to work, and I spent the following week in Montana, and then jetted off to Las Vegas to visit my friend Christie for 5 days.

[Let me make the following disclosure about spending time in Vegas with someone who actually lives there. We did not booze it up. We did not go clubbing. We did not gamble. We didn't ever even set foot on the Strip. Totally different experience than what you'd expect, right? There's a whole Vegas scene that exists beyond what goes on downtown, you should really check it out if you have a chance].

Anyway, as usual, I have many, many pictures from my travels over the last few weeks, so I'm going to have to separate them into a few posts.

First of all, here are a few pics from my latest hospital stint:

An artist (or rather doctor) rendering of the size and location of the appendix.

Pat trying to catch a few winks. He slept for all of 2 hours before having to leave to view a townhouse that we were looking at renting (we're moving this weekend!!!!)

Ok, that's all for now. More pics to come...

My Summer Reading List

Soooo, I find myself having lots of free time these days (maybe too much, but that's another post for another time). I've been occupying my time by reading books and practicing guitar (I use the term "practicing" loosely, as I gave myself a headache from "practicing" a couple weeks ago, so I'm not sure that I've hit that level yet where I can call it that). Anyway, I've posted my reading list below, and I would welcome anyone's suggestions about good reads for this summer.
{Oh, and it's worth mentioning that I don't read books about science fiction-related topics, vampires, witches and/or goblins, or any sort of black magic. I'm 25, not 13.}

The titles in bold are books I've already read this summer:
The Night of the gun by David Carr**
Tommyland by Tommy Lee**
Don't Try This at Home: A Year in the Life of Dave Navarro by Dave Navarro**
Tweaked: A Crystal Meth Memoir by Patrick Moore**
(**See a pattern here?? I like junkie memoirs, so shoot me.)
Nineteen Minutes by Jody Picoult
The Pact by Jody Picoult
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson (I intend the read the other 2 books in this trilogy if I like this one)
The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks
Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane
The Fifth Agreement by Don Miguel Ruiz

And I will probably re-read a few of my favorites (I love re-reading books because I always seem to catch new something the second or third time that I didn't get the first time around).
The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz
The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller
Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis**
A Million Little Pieces by James Frey**
(**again with the junkie memoirs, I clearly have a problem)

Further reading suggestions would be much appreciated. :)

Woman On the Run

I'm doing this new thing, this thing called jogging (Allow me to pause for a moment for a quick Anchor Man reference: "Jogging?!? Yogging?!? I think the 'j' is silent. Apparently you just run.") That's right, I run. Not from anyone or anything. But for fun. I even bought myself a pedometer to track my time and distance (although I have yet to run outside because of fear from passing out due to heat stroke). And I'm actually enjoying myself. Who would have thought, me, a runner??? Weird. Seven months ago, when I was all but sedentary, spending the small amounts of spare time that I did have writing papers and reading, I never would have imagined myself as someone who gets on the treadmill and runs, without stopping, for 45 minutes at a time. But as it turns out, I actually enjoy running. I enjoy it so much that the 2 or 3 days a week that I don't run, I miss it. My body misses it (but my body also needs a few days to recover, so I don't make the mistake of overdoing it and risk an injury). Running ranks right up there with writing, for me, in terms of its therapeutic value. When I'm stressed, nervous, or just need an outlet, there is nothing that can substitute for cranking up the IPod and running, getting lost in my music and my thoughts.

I guess I don't have a clue what the point of this post is. I just felt the need to share with everyone my status as a reformed Hater of All Things Running.

I'm cutting out of here now, time for my run.
xo

Still Feels Like Home

6/7/10

2 Years of Wedded Bliss

Show love with no remorse, climb onto your seahorse, this ride is right on course. This is the way I wanted it to be with you, this is the way I knew that it would be with you.

~From "Dosed" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers

Guitars Galore

About nine months ago, I had an idea, a revelation of sorts. Don't ask me where this wild hair came from, but I decided I wanted to learn how to play the guitar. Millions of people play the guitar, heck, there's a store up the street the size of a small grocery store called Guitar World. How hard can it be? I bought my acoustic guitar right after Christmas and tore open the wrapping, only to realize this stringed instrument was as foreign to me as the Latin language. So I called upon my friend Google to research basic lessons for where to even begin. And I ran across a quote:

" Sometimes you want to give up guitar, you'll hate the guitar. But if you stick with it,you're gonna be rewarded"
-- Jimi Hendrix

I'll be the first to admit, I never jumped on the Hendrix bandwagon. Many of my friends, early on in high school, developed an admiration (or obsession, one might say) with the guitar playing and lyrical stylings of the late Jimi Hendrix. I never thought he was anything special. Until the day I picked up this instrument and tried to make it play a sound that would have any sort of semblence to actual music. Boy was I humbled. And frustrated. My fingers were (and still are) sore. I've been hesitant to share the news with too many people, because I'm afraid that someone will (gasp!) ask me to play for them, and I will die of shame and embarassment due to the fact that six months later, I still don't know how to play a full song. [I blame grad school for stealing away my precious practice time.] But yesterday afternoon, as I sat amongst the mess of books and printed tabs, I heard the sweet sound of a few notes when, played back-to-back, actually resembled a song! And somehow, my fingers were the ones creating those sounds! That was just the movitation I needed. So I thought this would be a good time to share with y'all a few pics of my guitars (Pat bought me the Fender Strat for my birthday a few weeks ago. Using the language analogy above, how in the heck am I supposed to begin learning how to speak Italian when I've barely learned the basics of Latin?!?!)



I will never be pretentious enough to label myself a musician, because owning a guitar does not make a person any more a musician than owning a gun makes one a hunter. But I look forward to one day being able to play my babies songs as their daddy rocks them to sleep at night, and to bringing my guitar camping to provide some old-fashioned homemade music.

For now, I think I'll just focus on getting through a whole song.