So Dad & I went to dinner at Miss Saigon on Grand in Oakland. Dad really likes pho.

I slept terrible. I never sleep well the first night in a strange place, and I brought the wrong pillow with me, so I wasn’t all pillow comfy. I got up at 5:45 so that I could get Dad to Kaiser at 7:30 am. We made it exactly on time.

Dad’s procedure didn’t require them to knock him out, but they gave him the sedation and he was out. I had to wake him up to bring him home. I think he was nervous about it, but it doesn’t seem to have been that big a deal. He felt pretty good when it was all over; he was alert and ready to leave and get lunch.

While he was in the OR, I visited my mom. Poor thing, they are keeping her in isolation in the ER because they are concerned that she might have TB. This is the second time that we have gone thru the TB business. She just had a clear screening. So she is mad because they are telling her that she has to stay in the hospital for a week because of the TB. I think; that was the story that I got.

So she had been in the ER for 14 hours, and they hadn’t fed her. I gave her my apple. We talked a bit. I called Dave and he talked to her, too. So, we shall see what happens there.

Dad and I went to lunch at a Dim Sum place on Webster in Alameda. It was good, and they took good care of us … well, him. He ate an enormous amount of food.

Now, we are home. He is napping. Layla is chasing me around with the meowing cat in her mouth, and I think I will lay down for a nap.

We lucked out on this parade. We didn’t have to save a spot or anything. We were coming out of a ride in Adventureland as they were approaching.

Back on topic … yeah, right.

Last night, I’m goofing off on facebook, and Pulguito is watching a Star Wars movie in my craft area. All of a sudden, I hear Chunguita screaming and crying. What could possibly be happening, I wonder; after all, Pulguito is no where near Chunguita. I run thru the house and find Lily pinned under DH. DH is scolding Lily (who seems totally unmoved), and Chunguita is crying.

“What happened?” I ask.

“LilyhadBruno’srawhideandItriedtotakeitawayfromherandshegrowledandbitme!” Chunguita cried.

Which explained why DH had Lily pinned and was growling at her. I wondered if he nipped her back. Anyway, DH couldn’t get Bruno’s rawhide out of Lily’s mouth, and after a bit more chastisement, he put Lily outside (aka isolation from the pack). I didn’t think Lily should get to keep the rawhide, so I went outside, pried her mouth open by pinching her lips so that they squeezed under her back teeth which forces her to open her mouth a bit or bite herself, and I took the rawhide away from her.

Poor Lily, she doesn’t understand the pack order in our house. Well, she thinks she should be above Chunguita and Pulguito and Bruno. And, I think, pack hierarchy is determined between the individuals, so she occasionally makes the mistake of asserting herself to Chunguita or Pulguito. Then she gets it from me or DH, and I’m not sure that this really makes sense to her. Ah, well, she did learn that Chunguita and Pulguito get to sit on the furniture and that she does not.

Fortunately, situations like this are very rare for us.

Here’s a pic of me from 1986. I took a trip to Yosemite with a bunch of college friends. We stayed at Michelle’s mom’s cabin. That’s Troy holding the wine bottle. I played a lot of volleyball with Troy, and he worked for a while at the lab across the street. I totally forget the other guy. I think he was dating Michelle at the time. Michelle says his name is John.

I am up and down. It’s odd the things that seem to trigger mood swings. This morning, I was looking at a Winnie the Pooh & Christopher Robin stamp that I’d used on a plaque. When I was making the tiles and the plaque, I didn’t make any connection to anything other than I like the stamp. This morning, I saw Diego in the stamp. And I thought about how he would have been running along holding on to his tiger instead of Pooh. When we buried him, I placed a lion stuffed animal that his father (my brother) had given me 20 years ago in the coffin with Diego. It wasn’t a tiger, but Jack had given it to me, and somehow that circle made me feel better. This morning, I filled with regret that it wasn’t a tiger, and of course, sadness that Diego is gone, anger at the unfairness of it all, and concern for my family.

A. Each tagged person must post 8 things about themselves on their journal.

B. At the end, you have to choose and tag 8 people.

1. My eldest brother is 15 years older than I am, and my youngest brother is 15 months younger than I am.
   
2. My eldest niece is 34, and my youngest niece is 1. And I have a grand nephew who is older than my kids.
   
3. I don’t perm my hair. I style it by washing it, going to sleep with it wet, and combing it out in the morning. I haven’t dyed my hair in years.
   
4. I like to make people laugh. I like to laugh. My husband does not appreciate my sense of humor.
   
5. I have spent much of my adult life clinically depressed yet happy.
   
6. I’m a sloppy slob, and it drives my husband nuts.
   
7. I love bright colors, pretty things, children, dogs, and birds singing.
   
8. I really, really dislike one of my therapists. She is part of a team of 3, but one of them had to go back home to take care of her parents. I have a good rapport with the other therapist. The one that I dislike is constantly sunshiney cheerful makes me want to slap her. She annoys me. She has helped me. But, damn, she annoys me.
   

Okay, tag 8 people. I’d tag Heather, but if she has a blog, she hasn’t told me about it.

Phyllis, Liza, Lori, Mom2fur, tini, Stephanie, Beth, and Dan

Alan Harvey, my high school music teacher, my very favorite teacher that I ever had, died today.

Chunguita is reading a Judy Blume book. I’m just not ready.