Paragraphs?  Can't.  Sorry.

• We had to make a List of To Do Lists. 
• There are To Do Lists stuck to my closet doors and I take immense pleasure in crossing things off.  "I packed up the DVDs," he yelled from the living room.  My grin is maniacal.  "The list!  Cross it off the list!" 
• (Yes, we wrote things on the list that we had done previously, just so we could cross them off.)
• The living room looks like the Cardboard Coalition 2006 is holding their annual meeting.  I have made blueberry tea and cucumber sandwiches, in case they show up.
• I packed every medical supply carefully into a cardboard box as though I were playing "Perfection."  It was a flawless arrangement until I needed a new box of test strips.  Which were at the bottom of the box.  Under the infusion sets.  Under the reservoirs.  Under the lancets and Novopen needle tips. 
• It's raining.  Come on, Beach Weather!!
• Stacks of boxes are in the corner of the living room, providing Sausage with a daily mountainous adventure.
• I miss my friends already.
• We trekked to CT yesterday, paying a security deposit to turn on the electricity in our condo.  I have never heard of such a thing.  Paying a security deposit for the apartment, sure.  But for the utilities?  Blashphemy.  And of course it wasn't a $50 deposit.  Try eight times that. 
• Clif Energy Bars, though riddled with carbs, are delicious.  I can't lie.  So are the Detour ones. 
• You know what?  Websites don't design themselves. I am learning this the hard way. 
• My gym membership ran up this week.  So I am sneaking into the gym.  Dressed as a ninja.  Very stealth. 
• "The Steel Cage Match for Rights to Fantasize About John Cusack:  Kassie vs. Kerri" will be held in my new living room (if Foxwoods is booked) at a to-be-determined date.  Details on the Pay Per View to come.

Now I can cross "Blog Post" off my list. 

Posted by Kerri. at 10:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

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I quit my job a few weeks ago.

I've been waiting to say that for weeks because my former insurance job was so rotten, so boring and kept me trapped in a windowless building for almost two years.  I was miserable.  I was a Merchant of Fear, selling the worst case scenario to people.  They would tell me that they bought an airplane.  My response: "Hey, that's great!  But you could crash it, so you should make sure you have insurance on it."  Terrible course of business. 

It was making me depressed. 

So I quit.  Gleefully.

A much better offer came along a few weeks ago.

I've been busy packing up my house.  Looking for a new apartment with my boyfriend.  Enjoying my last few weeks as a RI resident.  Laying out at the beach with my friends.  Becoming excited, really excited.  Paying insane amounts for a condo in western Connecticut.  Traveling back and forth a few times a week to iron out all the details of the move.   Trying to keep my own mouth shut and so thankful for those who knew and kept silent with me.  Becoming more excited.

Next week I will be starting my new job with dLife.  As of June 30th, I will be living in a beachside community and working for a company whose mission I respect deeply.

I am no longer a Merchant of Fear.

I now have a job I want.  And that feels pretty damn good.

Posted by Kerri. at 09:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (47) | TrackBacks (0)

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Sunscreen?  Check.

Bathing suit?  Check. 

Blanket?  Check.

Day off from work and finally no freaking rain?  Check and check.

Earlier this week marked my first visit to the beach of the season.  Blue skies, bathing suit rescued from the depths of the suitcase we took to L.A., and my infusion set sitting snugly against my right thigh, we traversed to South County, RI and enjoyed a day at the beach.

While we laid out on the blanket and talked, I noticed how little and white the infusion set looked.  Stark contrast against my tanning skin.  And so dreadfully medicinal. 

Then I remember those little "patch" things I had read about on The Diabetes Blog and on LaLa's HiLo Blog... Groovy Patches.  I had mentioned them in my last dLife article about pumping at the beach. 

I was intrigued. 

So I emailed the President of Groovy Patches LLC and she was extremely kind and accommodating in providing me with a few Groovy Patches of my own to try out. 

They came in this lovely packaging (yes, that is my thumb with the nail bitten into oblivion).  I tore into the envelope like a kid at Christmas. 

The concept is this little circle that covers the white infusion set patch.  I received twelve different designs, including tropical fish, flowers, flames, a leopard pattern, and stripes.  You just peel this little sticker off, line it up on your pump site, and reconnect the pump. 

So here's the "Before" shot, Pre-Groovy Patch.  (Yes, those little dots are my infusion set marks.  I love a good thigh site.  And I also love a good tan, because in about a week, those little suckers will barely be noticeable.)

And here's the "After," once I had been properly Grooved.

I'll be the first one to admit that I don't care much for flashy pump cases and I chose the most basic colored pump.  Most of the time, my pump is completely hidden in a pocket, a bra, or a MacGyvered gizmo, but at the beach, I wear it in public.  It's out there. 

These patches make my normally mundane and medicinal pump site a little more fashionable and fun. 

I'll admit it:  I felt groovy.

Has anyone else checked out these patches? 

Posted by Kerri. at 11:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

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What we didn't sell at the yardsale, we tossed out on the curb with a big sign that said "FREE."  Anything that wasn't claimed by passerbys would be taken by the trash collectors.

There were a few items out there, one of which was an old dresser we were tossing.  There was also a cardboard box filled with bits that didn't make our "Need It" list.  Among the contents of that box was a "Starry Starry Cow" from the Cow Parade, a toaster, and Hermy from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the Island of Misfit Toys.

These items have been at the curb since Monday morning.

And in the middle of the night, our little home has been visited by Nighttime Garbage Goblins. 

They don't cause any trouble or wreak any havoc, but they are having their way with our little Hermy.

He's been taken from his cardboard hold and Tuesday morning we found him perched on the top of the dresser drawer.

We woke Wednesday to find him tucked neatly into the toaster.

The garbage collectors come tomorrow morning and I hope, for Hermy's sake, that they put him out of his misery.

Posted by Kerri. at 11:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

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We looked around the apartment and assessed the situation.

The cats were roaming around unsupervised.  Three bookshelves filled to absolute capacity stood at attention, flanked by another entire bookshelf of DVDs.  The CD shelving, housing more than 900 compact discs, whispered mockingly from the living room.

“You have to pack us all up... every last one of us.”  The CDs snickered in unison. 

“We need to pack all this crap up.”  I said to Chris, the panic rising in my throat.  Moving in three weeks.  Not much time to wrangle all our stuff into a UHaul and drive off to the Soon To Be Disclosed Town.  We have a lot of stuff.

The cats meowed in agreement.

“Yard sale.”  Chris said, crossing his arms.

“Yard sale,” I repeated.

We weeded out everything we didn’t need.  Old guitars, the kitchen table, clothes that haven’t been worn in years, Christmas presents that family members gave me and I didn’t have the heart to toss.  Board games, jewelry, picture frames, and an almost complete set of Simpsons characters.  (I had a Sideshow Bob, a Millhouse, Stonecutter Homer, Mr. Plow, The Plow King, and Vacation Smithers, among many others.  Sigh...)  I considered selling an old glucose meter but then decided that donating it would be the best course of action.  A simple phone call to the Providence Journal placed a classified ad that would alert the state as to the sale of our treasures. 

Our garbage?

The alarm went off on Saturday morning at 5:50 am.  Groggy and miserable, we padded out into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, listening to the rain pour down outside.

The blasted rain.

It poured, my Faithful Readers.  Pouring rain that melted every lime green sign we had placed in Providence. 

We sat in the rain for hours.  No one came to see us.  Chris and I rigged up tarps along the porch to protect us from the rain.  No one came.  He broke out the guitar and sat at the picnic table, singing songs about how no one was coming to buy our stuff.  (My favorite lyrics:  No one wants our stuff.  Not even God wants our stuff...)  I sat on the couch (outside in the rain, mind you) and ate a bowl of oatmeal. 

It looked like we were living on our front porch.

We counted the money squirreled away in the navy blue mug after hours of trying to sell our wares, after we had dragged the unsold items to the curb.

One hundred dollars.

Less the $25.00 to place the classified ad.

Seventy-five dollars?  That will barely put a dent in our moving costs! 

And as we closed up shop for the day, the clouds settled into a dusky pink and the rain stopped falling for the first time in a week. 

Giving us this gorgeous view.

 

 

Posted by Kerri. at 09:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

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It was short.  It was low cut.  It was ever-so slightly slinky.

It was the opening gala for the Newport Film Festival and the dress code was "a little bit dressy."

Seriously, when can you go wrong with a little black dress?  It always looks classy and simple and suitable for almost every occasion.  I had a beautiful one from Ann Taylor in the closet.  Just grab a pair of black heels, some sparkly (fake) jewelry, and slip into that dress.  No problem.

... No problem until I went to slip into my Something Most Comfortable: namely, my pump. 

Most often, I don't have problems wearing a dress and the pump at the same time.  Usually I tuck the pump safely between my ... in my bra and that's the end of it.  Or I utilize the thigh thingie that straps around my leg and has a little sleeve for the pump. 

This dress, however, was too low cut to hide my pump discreetly in my bra and the damn thigh holster wasn't cutting it.  (I think the velcro in that foolish thing is clogged up and is un-velcro-y now.  Damn it.) 

I debated forging forward with the bra attempt and started planning answers:  "Yes, it's very nice to meet you.  I loved your film.  Um, yes.  I was born half robot but I usually don't speak of that to strangers," or "I'm actually taping this conversation with my boobs," or "I, too, enjoy injecting hormones.  Seriously.  I'm hooked."

I couldn't do that.  Besides, the little peeking loop of tubing clashed with my necklace.

I tried to set the pump in the waistband of my underwear, but that proved to be both nearly impossible and completely visible under the form fitting bodice of the dress. 

Damn it, damn it.

I had no long acting insulin at the house.  I didn't want to disconnect and be forced to test and piggy-back boluses all night long.  I wanted to wear the pump and get on with it.

The Solution?:  I rigged up a little contraption using the clip on straps to a convertible bra (thank you, Oh Secrets of Victoria), the case from the thigh holster, and the tiniest piece of duct tape.

The pump stayed put.  The film party patrons were none the wiser.

And MacGyver's got nothing on me.

Posted by Kerri. at 12:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (25) | TrackBacks (0)

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The Panagram Challenge, found on Major Bedhead.

At first, I thought I had to write my own panagram.  So I stewed about for a while, trying to come up with a sentence that uses all 26 letters of the alphabet but wasn't too ridiculous. 

I succeeded at writing a sentence that uses all 26 letters, but I didn't escape being ridiculous.  My apoligies to ... everyone.

"Gazing at the ubiquitous testing kit, I grabbed my pump and was very grateful for my access to such jazzy technological fixtures."

or

"I would coax the cat to just come inside but she'd rather venture out and pounce the flock of squabbling, fuzzy bees."

I think I may have too much time on my hands.

Posted by Kerri. at 12:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

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Quick post (as the saloon doors swing open to welcome yet another blogger): 

Nic has delurked and joined the ranks of bloggers with her blog "Bundle of Contradictions"  Take a skip over and give her a welcome!

(Saloon doors swing shut.  Piano music is heard from within.  There are most likely pints of beer being passed out.  And I'm playing cards at the center table, trying to maintain my poker face against the meanest, toughest card shark out there:  Siah Sausage.)

Posted by Kerri. at 09:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

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