Amnesia

I would have wished you a happy fourth of July, but I was out with my son on a New England Aquarium whale watch! We took the sunset cruise and ran into a bunch of whales who happened to be practicing for the synchronized swimming event at the olympics.

As the sun set, we cruised back into Boston Harbor, saw fireworks, the USS Constitution and the Queen Mary 2. She’s a big lady and apparently one of the biggest cruise ships to sail! Here’s the link to the photo album and I’ll be posting a video below.

(and the rocket’s red glare, indeed)

Gnomes, bunnies and mice beware!

Anyone who has children can understand how helpless you feel when your little one is sick. Perhaps it is high fever that won’t come down with a lukewarm bath or an ear infection that is keeping you both up in the middle of the night.

I had the unfortunate experience of taking my son to a children’s hospital ER over the weekend, (yes, he’s fine now as his “problem” has been resolved) and waited 6 hours in the middle of the night for tests only to be sent home without a diagnosis.

As we sat in the waiting room for a good hour around midnight, parents with children came and went. To my left was a woman who brought her entire family (including another adult), and called a nurse over who had come out looking for the patient next in line. She mused that her daughter had been seen by triage and was told she most likely had a mosquito bite upon her stomach. She then asked when she would be seen; putting two and two together and figuring out that a bug bite would continue to get bounced down the list as more important cases came in throughout the night. The nurse calmly told her to wait and that it would be useless to leave since she was already there.

She left.

There are two issues I found rather odd and frustrating in this scenario. My kids have had the usual slate of maladies associated with childhood. While I may rush my child to an ER should she have the croup and couldn’t draw a breath, or a fever spiked over my comfort zone and would not come down with alternating Tylenol and Motrin and a lukewarm bath; I would never bring my child in for a common bug bite unless she suffered an allergic reaction. Even before then, I’d douse her with some Benadryl and unless she couldn’t breathe or was swollen like a marshmallow; I’d call my doctor.

I don’t understand why this mother found it necessary to drag her whole family down to an emergency room in the middle of the night so that her daughter could be looked upon by a tired doctor and given some anti-itch cream.

Furthermore, when she was brought into the triage area, I am curious as to why the hospital found it necessary to make her wait. I guess that had I been the nurse, I would have ripped a doctor away, told him to confirm the diagnosis of a bug bite, give her the cream and send her home. I don’t suppose I’d last too long at said facility.

So you wonder why your insurance premiums are going up? This is a fine example. Parents: Please know when to take your children to an emergency room. Stop using your neighborhood hospital as your own private doctor. Find a free clinic if you do not have proper insurance. There are plenty of other options, here. Doctors: Please dedicate someone to send frivolous cases that come in through triage, back home, as to keep the patients with more serious injuries or sicknesses revolving in timely manner.

I hesitate to even mention that the woman and her family left without paying. How do I know this? They didn’t even grab our insurance information until we were settled in the room with a bed. By the way they handle the influx of families, I’m wondering if they aren’t specifically set up the way they are because, Ms. Bug Bite has a tendency of bolting before actually being seen by a doctor.

I don’t know what makes me more sick to my stomach.

…type of gal I really am, watch this video below. I don’t know if because I actually had one of these things at some point in my life and had to watch Elmo shake his thang a million times a day, but I laughed so hard I was crying when I saw it.

I originally saw this on SplodeTV. Go there!

****This will contain spoilers for “Battlestar Galatica”, so don’t read if you aren’t up to date on the show. ****

In the comment thread of my “I Hate Ron Moore” post, Vince asks me why I currently hate the man responsible for one of the best shows on television. I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on why last night was so disappointing, so with a deep breath to control my rage, here we go.

I’ve been on board BSG since the very beginning. I’ve seen friends and enemies alike air-locked, or killed in senseless battles and accidents. I’ve been Admiral Adama’s personal assistant and have watched him grow in both stature and wisdom only to see every strand of strength whittled away in the brief moments of deeply personal betrayal. I’ve stood next to Caprica Six as she’s talked and fucked a deranged and selfish Gaius Baltar. I’ve shared in the disbelief and wholly disturbing personal secrets of Col. Tigh, Anders, Tori and Chief. I too was shut away with D’Anna and let fear rule my decisions when I was “unboxed”. I’ve felt the intense passion that guides Leoben and the frustration and curiosity that make Kara Thrace. I’ve also counselled and questioned every decision Laura Roslin has made since the initial destruction of the 12 colonies.

I am a part of each person, each crew, each cylon and have been from the very beginning.

With all that said, you can imagine my joy, relief and disbelief when Felix Gaeda exclaimed that the constellations were a match. You can imagine the tears of those overwhelming emotions flowing like a cleansing river when Admiral Adama confirmed we had found our new home. I danced in jubilation with Lee in the CIC. I hugged my comrades in the hangar bay, and I wept with those who have lost so much and for the first time in years have had something for which to hope.

Yet the moment I bent down and held the soil in my hands with Adama, and heard the familiar tick of an active Geiger counter, was the moment my hope turned into rage and despair. Couple this with the fact that I am now frozen in time for an unknown period until the forces that be decide I can continue the rest of our journey, and well, it makes for a pretty pissed-off Kate.

I understand the need for dystopia when creating a show or writing a novel. Yet, if you are like me, you have invested yourself in watching, debating and discussing this show. With those countless hours, entitlement arises that you are owed a payoff for your efforts. You should be allowed to experience the most precious of human emotions; hope. 

Apparently, Ronald Moore believes otherwise. I feel ultimately betrayed in that despite the relevant social and economic issues the writers have sprinkled throughout the seasons, they found it necessary to remind us that we are hell bent on destruction no matter how much we try and redeem ourselves.

We are destructive. We’ve known this from the very beginning. We know this as we read our daily news and surf our internet.  I don’t see why it was necessary to offer another glimpse into what looked like nuclear holocaust when it was exactly what we were running from years ago.

So yeah Ron, would you kindly go fuck yourself. I wanted to hold onto my happy ending as long as possible and just as you took families and homes away from my friends and foes alike, you took the only driving force capable of bringing us back from the brink.

Right now, my hope is gone as I sit upon my Earth and look out upon a wasteland I so desperately wanted to call home.

Part of me is relieved the series isn’t over just yet, but part of me dreads where this will lead all of us in the year to come.

…sponsored by Viagra.

I love Oswald. Voiced by Fred Savage, this blue ocotopus is charming! However, watching it today with my 3 year old daughter, there was an episode that made me double take. Granted, the innuendo should be flying over any toddler’s head, but it just got worse and worse as the half hour went on. I was laughing so hard I was practically crying.

See for yourself.

I had a lot of people come back and say they loved the slide show I did with the Memorial Day Parade pictures in Enfield, but a lot had difficulty loading the huge file. I’ve compacted the pictures and it should load a lot faster for you guys with hamsters.

Click here for the new version.

Let me know what you think if you couldn’t access the file before.

I’ve also added the link over to the right on Photo Albums.

I think this officially starts me on the dangerous and hedonistic path to “cougardom.” I find Ashton Kutcher very appealing. I do realize that Ashton is 30 years old, but this statement is coming from a woman who swore never to look at a man who was younger in age due to known programming faults in maturity circuits.

Now I find him yummy.

It can only get worse from here.

I got sunburned at the Beach. Yeah, I brought sunscreen. But I ended up putting it on all the kids and forgot me.

Yes, it stings.

Badly.

Hugs even hurt.

As much as I wanted to relax, I couldn’t with three kids. My aunts were a great help, but there is always that water, child, omg-where-is-my-kid, type of feeling while at the beach. Perhaps one of these days I can go by myself, although it was funny to see Allyson pick up a dried starfish and get excited.

It was a gorgeous day there though, around 80 degrees with a nice breeze! Surprisingly, there wasn’t a large crowd which was very nice as well.

I am amazingly busy this week, but I will try to update regularly, I promise!

On the first day where temps are actually supposed to hit 90 degrees, I’m packing up the three kids and heading down south to Rhode Island. Yes, I’ve brough sun screen! I even packed polish ham sandwiches with fresh cucumber and mayonnaise.

Here’s to traffic!

Here’s to sun and sand.

Here’s to finally being able to relax.