Bibliomama

I forgot to post a picture of Lucy yesterday. Oops. I had to go to the dentist today. I got my teeth cleaned a couple of weeks ago and I had two fillings that were hanging on by a thread and needed to be replaced. My teeth are a disaster on a number of levels. I had cavities galore, even though I had the same dental routine as my sister and saw a dentist just as often. The good news? These were just cavities that had to be replaced - no decay, very little drilling. The less good news is because that's just because I HAVE no unfilled teeth. My bite is also 'atrocious', according to one dentist. I'm supposed to wear a night guard. I do not wear a night guard. I go to bed wearing a CPAP mask and carpal tunnel splints, and a night guard is an appliance too far.  My jaw is also tiny - this is responsible in large part for the sleep apnea (tiny airways), and means dental work is always painful afterwards as well as during, because my mouth has to be jacked open so far, and to

I am enjoying hearing about everyone's jobs, and totally good with anyone who uses this idea for a post. It was kind of fun revisiting all of the occupations which were often very not fun at the time. Also, J, Lucy was NOT humping the blanket, I was totally confused until I realized I had said she was fucking with it. She was just digging in it as if she might actually get somewhere, and her outraged expression when I told her to quit it was funny. And Engie, I apologize, because truthfully when I said I would see if your comments got stuck in spam I didn't even think that was something that could happen in Blogger, but then I checked and somehow they DID get marked as spam - why? Why would that happen? Anyway, you are free to focus solely on Lucy and zero other components of this blog, and I will ensure that your comments pass unmolested. Unlike Lucy's blanket would have been, if J was correct. My remaining jobs: In university, I worked first at TCBY, a frozen yogurt place

Talking about my current job made me think that listing all of my jobs could be fun (and by fun I mean possibly entertaining, sad or pathetic).  Babysitting was my first job. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes less so. I liked little kids. There was a house up the street with three little boys, one a baby. Sometimes I would wake him up on purpose after the other ones were asleep just so I could rock him back to sleep. Once I got called to the apartment building kitty-corner from us. The two little boys were hyper and I was overwhelmed, and then finally they fell asleep in front of the tv (I had been there since early and this was afternoon) and then their grandma showed up unannounced and started talking loud baby talk and woke them up and I felt like strangling her.  Once I got a job on a recommendation from one of my friends. The friend then showed up at the babysitting job with her boyfriend and the boyfriend's brother who kind of liked me. My friend fooled around in the basement w

 Ha ha, I bet you're thinking I have no kids at home and I already showed you my Halloween party costume, what more could I possibly have to say on this subject?  Well first of all, THIS Sonia (from this post ) texted me that her friend was helping at a Halloween dog photo shoot and I should take Lucy. I said uh, cool, except that doesn't really sound like something I would do. Sonia asked if she could take Lucy and I was like, yes, obviously.  She was a bee! Just like me! Sonia also bought her the hot dog costume, which is the only costume she's ever worn happily for any length of time. Then there's Eve, who obviously still sends me pictures of her costumes. She lives in a house with six other girls - five other arts and science students (combined with various other programs) and one engineer. So they went to the arts and science club event as the Seven Deadly Sins. Eve was sloth so she could wear pajamas Lauren, whose bedroom is beside Eve's was Lust "because

 I have been thinking about (maybe not PRECISELY looking forward to, but not dreading) NaBloPoMo for weeks, and this morning I was washing my face thinking again about post ideas, how I'm going to use empty scrolling time to post and comment, and then I realized HOLY SHIT, IT'S NOVEMBER. *ahem* Last year was the first time I wasn't alone doing this, and it was much more fun. I am stealing this picture from Engie and trust that she will tell me if that's not okay. I'm also going to copy Engie's idea of a re-introduction, although I don't really anticipate anyone coming here who hasn't been here before. Maybe I can re-introduce myself to myself, though, sometimes it gets a little unclear. My name is Allison, no one calls me Bibliomama except a few times at BlogHer the one time I went there, and Nicole 's husband once said "oh, Allison the Bibliomama?" which I find hilarious (that's right, I'm friends with Nicole, I've sniffed her

 I've been tired and achy all week. On Monday I came home from work and everything hurt so much I sort of just sat on the couch or limped around until I could take a bunch of Advil and go to bed and put pillows under my knees and behind my back and read until I went to sleep. When this happens it's hard not to get into an icky self-pitying spiral. I made a list of anti-inflammatory foods. I contemplated ordering purported pain-relieving essential oils. I complained to my sympathetic friends. I slept well and did a good yoga session Tuesday morning and then took it kind of easy for the rest of the day, and I felt better. And I realized that I just had a bad day, and every day won't be like that. My massage therapist says I should go to a rheumatologist and get formally tested for fibromyalgia, but I'm not sure I see the point. My old doctor thought I had it, but when I google it now it still says there's no way to definitively diagnose it, so what would be the point?