I hosted a “women’s nite” this past weekend. This is something I do periodically and we always have a wonderful time. I was in a rather quiet mood Saturday night, so after everyone filled their plates with munchies and got settled onto our back porch, I just sat back to enjoy listening to the conversations.
Women are capable of carrying on multiple discussions at one time. There were eight of us and at one point I noticed we’d paired up and there were four separate topics being discussed. Even while conversing with my partner, I was still able to keep an ear chimed into what the other ladies were talking about.
As my brain registered the varying topics, I started laughing and pointed out to my women friends, how our gatherings have changed over the years. In our 20’s we had “girls nites”, where we’d usually go to a bar or a night club for drinks, to dance and check out the latest hunks. We’d usually close the place down.
In our 30’s we still did “girl’s nite” only now we had to be sure our husbands could watch the children and we usually met at a restaurant somewhere, although occasionally we’d go crazy and hit a club or local bar. The conversations usually centered on diaper rash, breast feeding, sex, play groups and our children’s various activities. The night would end fairly early, so we could either tuck the little ones in or just because we were too exhausted to stay out very late.
In our 40’s we had “ladies nite” and we almost always met at an upscale restaurant. Sometimes we’d go really crazy and catch a movie after our meal. During our meals, which usually included a couple of strong drinks, we talked about divorce, cheating husbands, being bored with our lives, troubles with our jobs, the angst of raising teenagers or the sorrow of suddenly having “empty nest” syndrome. We never seemed to want to go home, but our stamina wasn’t what it used to be so we usually parted company around 11p.m. or so.
In our 50’s, (my current group) we have lots of women’s gatherings and get-togethers, but every once in awhile we’ll have an evening at a friend’s house labeled “women’s nite”. We all bring food to share and the meet up never starts later than 7p.m. On occasion we play a game together, but normally we just sit around, relaxing, stuffing our faces and sharing the latest news. Our conversations seem to center on menopause, coping with grown children who have no respect for their parents, grandchildren, aches, pains, the latest in plastic surgery, fillers and Botox injections. We also enjoy telling ribald jokes, stories about our husband’s antics or discussing the joys of being unencumbered by a mate. Our finishing times vary from 10p.m. to midnight or so, depending on our medication regime, whether we still have to work full-time or our depression levels.
I can’t wait to see what happens in my 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. As long as there aren’t any red hats with purple clothing involved…I’ll be good!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
COFFEE TIME PEOPLE WATCHING
There’s something very calming about going to a coffee house in the morning. I love the smell of the place as I walk in the door. I’m excited about my coffee choices and all the delightful ways in which I can enrich my coffee to fit my taste. It makes me feel a part of the human race to be standing there in line, waiting for my turn to present my order and start my day.
I visited Panera Bread a couple of mornings this week. Some of you may not think of Panera as a “coffeehouse”, but because I like a sweet pastry, of some sort, to go with my morning joe…I prefer their selection, to the rather limited selection at some of the more popular coffee places.
It was very interesting watching the “people of Panera” as they settled down for their morning treats. Some traveled in packs and you could tell by their attire they’d be headed to their jobs soon. A couple of caffeine infused business meetings, were taking place and a few solo corporate types floated in and out.
What I enjoyed most were the people who came to either work, read or merely wanted to get away from home, some with children in tow. The self-employed, unemployed, students or writers, tend to order coffee only and sit with their laptops open, staring at their screens, typing or scanning various websites. These are usually the 2-3 cups per stay people.
A few moms stopped in, deposited their children at tables with gooey breakfast sweets to keep them occupied, while the mothers sighed with relief as they took their first sip of “get me through the day stimulation.”
Men and women who came, as I did, merely to get out of the house for a bit and mingle with other morning people, brought either books, magazines or newspapers to read. I enjoyed watching the routines of some of these folks. Get coffee, get bagel, sit at table, spread cream cheese on bagel, adjust placement of food and drink articles on table, open reading material, take one look around dining area and finally begin perusing brain material.
Ahhhh, sweet nectar of a caffeine-aholic...I love spending time with my people. See you again soon!
I visited Panera Bread a couple of mornings this week. Some of you may not think of Panera as a “coffeehouse”, but because I like a sweet pastry, of some sort, to go with my morning joe…I prefer their selection, to the rather limited selection at some of the more popular coffee places.
It was very interesting watching the “people of Panera” as they settled down for their morning treats. Some traveled in packs and you could tell by their attire they’d be headed to their jobs soon. A couple of caffeine infused business meetings, were taking place and a few solo corporate types floated in and out.
What I enjoyed most were the people who came to either work, read or merely wanted to get away from home, some with children in tow. The self-employed, unemployed, students or writers, tend to order coffee only and sit with their laptops open, staring at their screens, typing or scanning various websites. These are usually the 2-3 cups per stay people.
A few moms stopped in, deposited their children at tables with gooey breakfast sweets to keep them occupied, while the mothers sighed with relief as they took their first sip of “get me through the day stimulation.”
Men and women who came, as I did, merely to get out of the house for a bit and mingle with other morning people, brought either books, magazines or newspapers to read. I enjoyed watching the routines of some of these folks. Get coffee, get bagel, sit at table, spread cream cheese on bagel, adjust placement of food and drink articles on table, open reading material, take one look around dining area and finally begin perusing brain material.
Ahhhh, sweet nectar of a caffeine-aholic...I love spending time with my people. See you again soon!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
ONCE A PARENT...ALWAYS A PARENT
Do we ever stop being parents? I have two children, a son and a daughter. My son lives in Mountain City, TN and is in his 30’s…and I still worry about him periodically. My Daughter though, is my main source of concern. She is turning 23 next week and she has been very sick for the last couple of days. I, of course, being Mom, have lost sleep over her illness. Every horrible scenario, I could possibly think of, rushed through my head last night, while I was trying desperately to shut off my brain and snooze.
She’s always had stomach issues. We’ve been to doctor after doctor and had test after test run, but no one ever finds a significant reason for her upset tummies. Yesterday she couldn’t keep anything in her system and today she is still suffering.
I automatically go into “nurse mom” mode when she is ill: making toast, tea, hot pads for her back, taking her temperature, and cool compresses for her forehead. I’ll do anything to try to make her more comfortable.
The hardest part is the worrying though. I wonder if anyone has ever done a survey to see if people who never have children live longer lives? I have several very good friends, who are suffering through all sorts of situations with their grown children. I’ve come to the conclusion, that no matter what their age…our kids are our kids and we will always be their parents.
I just wish I could get a decent night’s sleep and stop this infernal anxiety, which always seems to settle in the pit of stomach, whenever I feel either of my children’s worlds are threatened in anyway.
Regardless, I have to admit, I wouldn’t change the role of motherhood for anything in the world. Both of my children have been a blessing from the day they were born and they continue to bless me every day. I’ll deal with my daughter’s present problem and then move on to the next one. It seems never ending, but so is my love for her!
She’s always had stomach issues. We’ve been to doctor after doctor and had test after test run, but no one ever finds a significant reason for her upset tummies. Yesterday she couldn’t keep anything in her system and today she is still suffering.
I automatically go into “nurse mom” mode when she is ill: making toast, tea, hot pads for her back, taking her temperature, and cool compresses for her forehead. I’ll do anything to try to make her more comfortable.
The hardest part is the worrying though. I wonder if anyone has ever done a survey to see if people who never have children live longer lives? I have several very good friends, who are suffering through all sorts of situations with their grown children. I’ve come to the conclusion, that no matter what their age…our kids are our kids and we will always be their parents.
I just wish I could get a decent night’s sleep and stop this infernal anxiety, which always seems to settle in the pit of stomach, whenever I feel either of my children’s worlds are threatened in anyway.
Regardless, I have to admit, I wouldn’t change the role of motherhood for anything in the world. Both of my children have been a blessing from the day they were born and they continue to bless me every day. I’ll deal with my daughter’s present problem and then move on to the next one. It seems never ending, but so is my love for her!
Monday, August 23, 2010
BROTHERLY LOVE
I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.
-- Maya Angelou
I love this quote, especially because my brothers and I didn’t grow up together. Due to an alcoholic father, we were scattered about by Social Services, in different homes around our community. We are all four years apart, so our age discrepancies also played a big part in our not feeling close to one another. We were merely “siblings” growing up, but as we age…as we each have passed the 50 year old mark, I find that we are reaching out to each other, in a way we never did before.
I was lucky enough to get to spend time with all four of my brothers this past weekend. We gathered for a cookout, at one of the twins homes, in Myrtle Beach. They seem to know so much more about each other’s lives than I do. It was fun to sit and listen to them reminisce and learn more about the way in which they have grown and changed through the years.
After just losing my job…the closeness of this family reunion warmed my heart and brought me pure joy. The graying hair, the furrowed brows and deep wrinkles, the extra weight we’ve all gained through the years, made our meeting even more precious. As I sat looking at each of these marvelous men and realized how far each of us have come in our lives and the obstacles we have had to overcome to get to where we are today, my pride swelled.
Right now, I have two brothers living in Myrtle Beach. Another one will be moving down there within a year and then hopefully the fourth will follow soon afterward. I’m hoping for many more “sibling reunions” once we are all gathered in one area. Yes, we are growing closer, but we are also growing older and as we age I realize that our years to enjoy time together are numbered, so I want to savor each moment and honor the fact that we are “family”.
-- Maya Angelou
I love this quote, especially because my brothers and I didn’t grow up together. Due to an alcoholic father, we were scattered about by Social Services, in different homes around our community. We are all four years apart, so our age discrepancies also played a big part in our not feeling close to one another. We were merely “siblings” growing up, but as we age…as we each have passed the 50 year old mark, I find that we are reaching out to each other, in a way we never did before.
I was lucky enough to get to spend time with all four of my brothers this past weekend. We gathered for a cookout, at one of the twins homes, in Myrtle Beach. They seem to know so much more about each other’s lives than I do. It was fun to sit and listen to them reminisce and learn more about the way in which they have grown and changed through the years.
After just losing my job…the closeness of this family reunion warmed my heart and brought me pure joy. The graying hair, the furrowed brows and deep wrinkles, the extra weight we’ve all gained through the years, made our meeting even more precious. As I sat looking at each of these marvelous men and realized how far each of us have come in our lives and the obstacles we have had to overcome to get to where we are today, my pride swelled.
Right now, I have two brothers living in Myrtle Beach. Another one will be moving down there within a year and then hopefully the fourth will follow soon afterward. I’m hoping for many more “sibling reunions” once we are all gathered in one area. Yes, we are growing closer, but we are also growing older and as we age I realize that our years to enjoy time together are numbered, so I want to savor each moment and honor the fact that we are “family”.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
UNEMPLOYED...AGAIN
I’m unemployed again. I was let go from work at noon on Friday. I'm trying to stay upbeat about it...hated the job anyway, they were a bunch of jerks, depressing place to work, I would have looked for something else eventually...but even with all that...it is still such a horrible blow and makes me feel tainted somehow and unworthy. Other than the lay-off I suffered in January 2009, I have never been dismissed from a job.
I wasn’t given any concrete reason. I didn’t steal anything, get on the internet, talk on the phone incessantly, arrive late, go home early, take long three martini lunches…none of that. The only thing they would say was…”you’re just not the right fit.”
When I started, they hadn’t had a permanent Admin for over six months. They advertised this job three times before finally hiring someone…me. I worked so hard at getting everything in that office running like a fine oiled tool and now someone else will reap all those benefits. I was given no training, never told exactly what my duties were or how to implement them. The next person won’t have to suffer as I did because I put together an Office Procedures manual that outlines every little thing that needs to be done and how to do it. I had to research and find out all this information for myself, with no help from the Raleigh office. All my answers I got from the corporate office in Massachusetts.
Even realizing that this company has gone through Office Assistants, like wild fire the past two years, I still took this job and I thought I'd be the "one". Oh well, guess I was the "one", but just another "one". Another one kicked to the curb.
I am really trying not to let this get me down and to push past the feelings of rejection and anger, but it’s a hard pill to swallow. It sure was nice having that paycheck for a few brief weeks. Tightening the purse strings again! Onward and upward…………
I wasn’t given any concrete reason. I didn’t steal anything, get on the internet, talk on the phone incessantly, arrive late, go home early, take long three martini lunches…none of that. The only thing they would say was…”you’re just not the right fit.”
When I started, they hadn’t had a permanent Admin for over six months. They advertised this job three times before finally hiring someone…me. I worked so hard at getting everything in that office running like a fine oiled tool and now someone else will reap all those benefits. I was given no training, never told exactly what my duties were or how to implement them. The next person won’t have to suffer as I did because I put together an Office Procedures manual that outlines every little thing that needs to be done and how to do it. I had to research and find out all this information for myself, with no help from the Raleigh office. All my answers I got from the corporate office in Massachusetts.
Even realizing that this company has gone through Office Assistants, like wild fire the past two years, I still took this job and I thought I'd be the "one". Oh well, guess I was the "one", but just another "one". Another one kicked to the curb.
I am really trying not to let this get me down and to push past the feelings of rejection and anger, but it’s a hard pill to swallow. It sure was nice having that paycheck for a few brief weeks. Tightening the purse strings again! Onward and upward…………
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
TIME TO WRITE AGAIN..........
It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I’m working now and I’m so exhausted when I get home that I don’t have the energy to be witty, creative or entertaining. I do miss sharing though and the process of writing always warms my heart, so I’ve decided that I need to “suck it up” and start producing again.
Two of my brothers came for a visit this past weekend. I haven’t seen them for several years. One of them is battling lung cancer and although, to others, he may look strong, I could see the toll this horrible disease is taking on him. He never complained while he was here and kept apologizing for cutting outings short and needing to rest. I was hiding my tears. I admire him so much for the efforts he is making in fighting his way through this.
Both brothers have left and headed to Myrtle Beach to visit with our other two brothers. This weekend I will be heading out to join all of them. My brother with the cancer wanted this reunion. He feels like this might be the last time he’ll get to see all of us. This will be the first time in about 15 years that we have all been together and we weren’t attending a funeral.
Due to circumstances in our upbringing, we are not a close knit group, but we do love each other in our own way. As we all grow older, I find that we seem to be seeking out the solace and the comfort that comes from knowing that you have family out there sharing the world with you. I look forward to seeing everyone and I pray that my brother will win his battle and that we will soon have another gathering celebrating him being cancer free.
Two of my brothers came for a visit this past weekend. I haven’t seen them for several years. One of them is battling lung cancer and although, to others, he may look strong, I could see the toll this horrible disease is taking on him. He never complained while he was here and kept apologizing for cutting outings short and needing to rest. I was hiding my tears. I admire him so much for the efforts he is making in fighting his way through this.
Both brothers have left and headed to Myrtle Beach to visit with our other two brothers. This weekend I will be heading out to join all of them. My brother with the cancer wanted this reunion. He feels like this might be the last time he’ll get to see all of us. This will be the first time in about 15 years that we have all been together and we weren’t attending a funeral.
Due to circumstances in our upbringing, we are not a close knit group, but we do love each other in our own way. As we all grow older, I find that we seem to be seeking out the solace and the comfort that comes from knowing that you have family out there sharing the world with you. I look forward to seeing everyone and I pray that my brother will win his battle and that we will soon have another gathering celebrating him being cancer free.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
A sore throat...really? Four days before starting a new job I wake up with a swollen gland and sore throat. Is this God's idea of a joke? After 18 months of being unemployed...I will NOT start my new job sick.
I am armed with orange juice, Vitamin C pills and Vicks. I rub the Vicks on my throat, wrap it with a towel and it usually will take care of that sore gland in one day. If I'm not 100% tomorrow, it's off to the doctor's office!
Gonna brew a cup of tea, get the Vicks spread on me and take it easy today!
I am armed with orange juice, Vitamin C pills and Vicks. I rub the Vicks on my throat, wrap it with a towel and it usually will take care of that sore gland in one day. If I'm not 100% tomorrow, it's off to the doctor's office!
Gonna brew a cup of tea, get the Vicks spread on me and take it easy today!
Monday, July 5, 2010
NO LONGER UNEMPLOYED
I got a job! After eighteen months of looking, and patiently waiting till I found a position that paid close to what I was receiving when I was laid-off from my last job...I have finally been rewarded. Couldn't have come at a better time either. My husband needs to find another place to work and this will give him a chance to do just that. He can take a little less in salary now in order to get his foot in the door somewhere new.
I'm looking forward to getting started. It's nice to know that I will wake up each day with a specific purpose. I will be able to help a business be a success. Weekends will take on a whole new meaning...not just be another day. Holidays will be looked forward to. Vacation...will actually BE a vacation.
It's a tough market out there, but if you are persistent, don't settle (unless you absolutely have to), you will find something!
I've got one more week before I start. I'll enjoy every minute of it and hit the ground running on Monday, July 12th!
I'm looking forward to getting started. It's nice to know that I will wake up each day with a specific purpose. I will be able to help a business be a success. Weekends will take on a whole new meaning...not just be another day. Holidays will be looked forward to. Vacation...will actually BE a vacation.
It's a tough market out there, but if you are persistent, don't settle (unless you absolutely have to), you will find something!
I've got one more week before I start. I'll enjoy every minute of it and hit the ground running on Monday, July 12th!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
THE CAT'S AWAY.......
While the cat's away...this mouse is gonna play. I put my hubby on a plane, bound for Chicago, this morning. He spends four to five days, each year, with three of his guy buddies from his high school days. This is my time to spend four to five days, doing whatever I jolly well please.
During this time I don't make the bed, do laundry, cook meals, run the vacuum or pick up around the house. I make plans to spend time with my friends or go to the beach or catch up on my "chic flics".
Ladies, if your husband doesn't "disappear" for a few days each year...I thoroughly recommend that you try to get him to do so. This is such a time of re-energizing for me. It gives me a chance to miss him and appreciate him. When he comes home it's always great to see him again and we have stories to tell each other about our time apart. Conversation is possible again.
I hate that, this year, their gathering takes place over the Fourth of July weekend, but I've gotten an invitation to party with friends, so I'll be enjoying myself. It's only 8:00a.m., but I think I'll grab another cup of coffee and watch "Valentine's Day." Ahhhh, woman time!
During this time I don't make the bed, do laundry, cook meals, run the vacuum or pick up around the house. I make plans to spend time with my friends or go to the beach or catch up on my "chic flics".
Ladies, if your husband doesn't "disappear" for a few days each year...I thoroughly recommend that you try to get him to do so. This is such a time of re-energizing for me. It gives me a chance to miss him and appreciate him. When he comes home it's always great to see him again and we have stories to tell each other about our time apart. Conversation is possible again.
I hate that, this year, their gathering takes place over the Fourth of July weekend, but I've gotten an invitation to party with friends, so I'll be enjoying myself. It's only 8:00a.m., but I think I'll grab another cup of coffee and watch "Valentine's Day." Ahhhh, woman time!
Monday, June 28, 2010
MAH JONG SUNDAY
I played Mah Jong with a group of my girlfriends yesterday. It's only my second time playing, but I have to say...I really enjoy it. It's a little rough learning all the rules, but once you do it's a lot of fun. The ladies' I play with are very patient teaching all the newbies.
Mah Jong is played with tiles. You can buy them in different sizes. I prefer the bigger ones, cause at my age they're easier to see. There are different "suits", like in cards. Bamboo, Circles, Characters, Winds, Dragons and the all important "honor" tiles. The object is to make 3 or 4 of a kind. There's a lot of strategy involved, but once you start playing it's pretty easy to catch on.Four people is the ideal number to play, but we played one round with only three.
The hardest part of playing Mah Jong is the scoring. Even this becomes fairly routine, though, after you do it once or twice.
If you're looking for a game that is challenging, but fun, at the same time...give Mah Jong a try.
Mah Jong is played with tiles. You can buy them in different sizes. I prefer the bigger ones, cause at my age they're easier to see. There are different "suits", like in cards. Bamboo, Circles, Characters, Winds, Dragons and the all important "honor" tiles. The object is to make 3 or 4 of a kind. There's a lot of strategy involved, but once you start playing it's pretty easy to catch on.Four people is the ideal number to play, but we played one round with only three.
The hardest part of playing Mah Jong is the scoring. Even this becomes fairly routine, though, after you do it once or twice.
If you're looking for a game that is challenging, but fun, at the same time...give Mah Jong a try.
Friday, June 25, 2010
WORKAHOLIC SPOUSES
Do you ever wonder if you're really married or not? Do you ever look at the person who walks in the door in the evening and wonder, "who is this stranger?" My husband's presence in our home is becoming surreal to me. He is working such long ridiculous hours, that we barely get a chance to speak. When he is home...he's not HOME. He always has this glazed look in his eyes, and I know he's thinking about what needs to be done the next day at work or the World Cup.
Wednesday he finally had a day off, but because he really needed a chance to just unwind and relax, instead of giving him a "honey-do" list, I sent him off with our neighbor to play golf. They were gone...all day! I whisked him out to dinner as soon as he came home, thinking we'd then have some special "us" time. We ended up at a place where the TV's spew sports channels all day and night, so conversation was limited, to say the least.
Last night he closed the store. He got home around 11:00p.m. I'd already gone to bed and was watching HGTV. When he turned the handle and walked into the room, I was just drifting off to sleep and I jerked awake thinking, "who is this man?" It's a good thing I don't sleep with a gun under my pillow!
He came over, leaned down to give me a kiss and as I was drifting back to sleep, I thought, "oh yeah, I know him...and I miss him."
Wednesday he finally had a day off, but because he really needed a chance to just unwind and relax, instead of giving him a "honey-do" list, I sent him off with our neighbor to play golf. They were gone...all day! I whisked him out to dinner as soon as he came home, thinking we'd then have some special "us" time. We ended up at a place where the TV's spew sports channels all day and night, so conversation was limited, to say the least.
Last night he closed the store. He got home around 11:00p.m. I'd already gone to bed and was watching HGTV. When he turned the handle and walked into the room, I was just drifting off to sleep and I jerked awake thinking, "who is this man?" It's a good thing I don't sleep with a gun under my pillow!
He came over, leaned down to give me a kiss and as I was drifting back to sleep, I thought, "oh yeah, I know him...and I miss him."
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
DR. McYUMMY
My incision bandages have been officially removed and everything looks great! I'm so glad to have this behind me now. Well, sort of. I'm gonna miss my doctor. Even though I only saw him for about 30 minutes, when the surgery was scheduled, and then again today, for about 15 minutes, for my post-op visit, I've got a surgeon-crush.
He's not your typical tall, dark and handsome. In fact, he's average height, white haired with a big ole mustache, but he tickles my fancy. He's got a great sense of humor and I have that on my list of prerequisites, for doctor's who are gonna dig around and remove organs from inside my body.
I'm thrilled that I no longer have my belly button taped closed, but it was with a deep sigh and little wave that I said, "good-bye" to Dr. Powell and left his office today. If you ever need a surgical procedure of any kind and wanna little over 50 eye-candy...he's your man! Of course different strokes, for different folks, but I like that long haired, scruffy, deep manly laughing sort of guy.
Okay, enough.............I'm HEALED and that's what's really important...isn't it?
He's not your typical tall, dark and handsome. In fact, he's average height, white haired with a big ole mustache, but he tickles my fancy. He's got a great sense of humor and I have that on my list of prerequisites, for doctor's who are gonna dig around and remove organs from inside my body.
I'm thrilled that I no longer have my belly button taped closed, but it was with a deep sigh and little wave that I said, "good-bye" to Dr. Powell and left his office today. If you ever need a surgical procedure of any kind and wanna little over 50 eye-candy...he's your man! Of course different strokes, for different folks, but I like that long haired, scruffy, deep manly laughing sort of guy.
Okay, enough.............I'm HEALED and that's what's really important...isn't it?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
BABY GOT BACK...BONE
Reba McEntire once said, “To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone.”
I sure have that wishbone part down pat and I throw a little funny bone into every day. It’s the backbone that I find confusing. I’m not sure how much backbone I’m supposed to have. Is it okay to just let things slide, even if they make you uncomfortable? Is shouting your opinions from the rooftops louder than everyone else considered having a backbone? If I don’t call people on the carpet every time I disagree with them…do I lack a backbone? Does everything in life have to be on my terms only and should I fight to be sure they are…in order to have a backbone?
I like to think I have a backbone where it counts. I don’t let anyone walk all over the people I love. I believe that’s where a backbone is really necessary. As for me personally, well I choose my battles.
I’ve always been a rather peaceful, laid-back person and therefore have probably been run over many times by loud, obnoxious, opinionated individuals…but the funny part is…I can’t remember any of these incidents, so how important were they? When I do tap into my backbone it surprises people. Such as the other night when my drunken brother called me and decided to rake me over the coals for something I’d never even done. I hung up on him; but not before I used very flowery language to tell him what he could do with his rantings. Shocked the heck out of him and out of me. I think he actually respected me more for not taking his crap.
Baby got backbone, when she needs it. I just don’t feel that I have to yell to get my point across. I’m right…nuff said…you can rage all you want. I’m gonna take a nap.
I sure have that wishbone part down pat and I throw a little funny bone into every day. It’s the backbone that I find confusing. I’m not sure how much backbone I’m supposed to have. Is it okay to just let things slide, even if they make you uncomfortable? Is shouting your opinions from the rooftops louder than everyone else considered having a backbone? If I don’t call people on the carpet every time I disagree with them…do I lack a backbone? Does everything in life have to be on my terms only and should I fight to be sure they are…in order to have a backbone?
I like to think I have a backbone where it counts. I don’t let anyone walk all over the people I love. I believe that’s where a backbone is really necessary. As for me personally, well I choose my battles.
I’ve always been a rather peaceful, laid-back person and therefore have probably been run over many times by loud, obnoxious, opinionated individuals…but the funny part is…I can’t remember any of these incidents, so how important were they? When I do tap into my backbone it surprises people. Such as the other night when my drunken brother called me and decided to rake me over the coals for something I’d never even done. I hung up on him; but not before I used very flowery language to tell him what he could do with his rantings. Shocked the heck out of him and out of me. I think he actually respected me more for not taking his crap.
Baby got backbone, when she needs it. I just don’t feel that I have to yell to get my point across. I’m right…nuff said…you can rage all you want. I’m gonna take a nap.
Monday, June 21, 2010
FRIENDS HELPING FRIENDS........
I had my "heart-light" turned on today, thanks to the help of a new friend.Sandra Carrington-Smith, is an author, who lives here in Raleigh. I met her a couple of months ago at a freelancers meeting I was attending and instantly liked her. We had lunch together today and she is just an absolute fountain of information, and the nice thing is...she's an author willing to share her knowledge.
So many published authors don't want to talk to other writers. They will snub you. Unless, of course, you want to discuss them and their success. Then you can bet they will drown you with more information than you really wanted, and some how in that process manage to keep pertinent data, which might assist you in your career...to themselves.
Sandra isn't one of those authors. She is funny, warm, inviting and happy to help, especially, if she sees potential in you as a writer. She WANTS you to succeed, just as she has. Her novel, The Book of Obeah, is now out in bookstores and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who likes a page turner.
I know that Sandra and I have forged a lasting friendship. One that will see us both through lots of book publishing parties and signings. Thanks Sandra, for all you've done to make me realize my self-worth as a writer. You are a true friend!
So many published authors don't want to talk to other writers. They will snub you. Unless, of course, you want to discuss them and their success. Then you can bet they will drown you with more information than you really wanted, and some how in that process manage to keep pertinent data, which might assist you in your career...to themselves.
Sandra isn't one of those authors. She is funny, warm, inviting and happy to help, especially, if she sees potential in you as a writer. She WANTS you to succeed, just as she has. Her novel, The Book of Obeah, is now out in bookstores and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who likes a page turner.
I know that Sandra and I have forged a lasting friendship. One that will see us both through lots of book publishing parties and signings. Thanks Sandra, for all you've done to make me realize my self-worth as a writer. You are a true friend!
Friday, June 18, 2010
RE-ENTERING WORK FORCE HELL
I must soon join the work force again. In January 2009 I was laid-off, after seven years of working for the same company. Seven years was a record for me and I was really devastated when they let me go. Okay, honestly, I was depressed and crushed.
I spent the first three months of freedom wallowing in my own self-pity and feeling sorry for myself. Then I saw an opportunity. I was receiving unemployment benefits and decided to resurrect my writing talents. Happiness reined in our home again. I spent hours a day completing a novel I started over twenty years ago. I started blogging. I wrote poetry, short stories, children stories, magazine articles, whatever struck my fancy. After six months of just enjoying the creative process of penning prose, I decided I should actually try to make some money at this past time. After all, the government wasn't going to pay me forever to stay home, so I needed to earn some cash from my literary productions in order to seriously consider it as my new "career."
SCRRREEEECCCCHHHH, this is where my writing dream seemed to stall out. Although I truly relish typing away and telling tales, breaking into that "paid" author group is tough!
I still kept struggling though, till this week. This week my unemployment stopped coming in every Tuesday. I won't miss the sound of that lady's voice on the phone every Monday as I call in to register, but I will miss the money that allowed me to follow a dream...for at least a while.
I am now officially, honestly and sincerely looking to re-enter the 8-5 work force. I am determined not to let my dream die along with having to become a drone for 40 hours per week, but bills don't stop coming just because your income does. So, unfortunately, its' "hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work I go"...as soon as I can get hired that is.
I spent the first three months of freedom wallowing in my own self-pity and feeling sorry for myself. Then I saw an opportunity. I was receiving unemployment benefits and decided to resurrect my writing talents. Happiness reined in our home again. I spent hours a day completing a novel I started over twenty years ago. I started blogging. I wrote poetry, short stories, children stories, magazine articles, whatever struck my fancy. After six months of just enjoying the creative process of penning prose, I decided I should actually try to make some money at this past time. After all, the government wasn't going to pay me forever to stay home, so I needed to earn some cash from my literary productions in order to seriously consider it as my new "career."
SCRRREEEECCCCHHHH, this is where my writing dream seemed to stall out. Although I truly relish typing away and telling tales, breaking into that "paid" author group is tough!
I still kept struggling though, till this week. This week my unemployment stopped coming in every Tuesday. I won't miss the sound of that lady's voice on the phone every Monday as I call in to register, but I will miss the money that allowed me to follow a dream...for at least a while.
I am now officially, honestly and sincerely looking to re-enter the 8-5 work force. I am determined not to let my dream die along with having to become a drone for 40 hours per week, but bills don't stop coming just because your income does. So, unfortunately, its' "hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work I go"...as soon as I can get hired that is.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
I DON'T WANNA GROW UP
I was watching America's Got Talent last night. Definitely not one of my favorite shows, but I love Howie Mandel and he is a judge this season (say "good-bye" to the Hoff).
Howie has this amazing ability to really LOVE life. He always has this wondrous expression on his face, like he's seeing or hearing something for the first time and he finds it interesting and amusing. The other two judges are very quick to hit their "stop" buttons, but Howie sits and stares with amusement and sometimes laughs outloud at what we think are those mundane or ridiculous acts. He is truly entertained.
I used to view life this way. I found amusement and a chuckle in so many of the things in my life and the world around me. I observed more. I slowed down and took more time to look around me. I believe I enjoyed more.
Some people might say, "well you've grown up," and they are probably right, but it sucks. I don't want to be a grownup if it means I can't find wonder and joy in the little things or the absurd things happening around me. When did I become so cynical and judgmental.
When I was working every day I used to look for something humorous or interesting on my way to work. It could be a billboard, a business sign, a person at the bus stop, a crazy looking vehicle or someone walking down the road. Sometimes I would share what I'd seen with my fellow co-workers, but always I would have that image to look back at and smile throughout the day. It's a great way to start your day. Try it...you may like it.
As for me...I'm gonna get back on that "Peter Pan" train and appreciate the silly again!
Howie has this amazing ability to really LOVE life. He always has this wondrous expression on his face, like he's seeing or hearing something for the first time and he finds it interesting and amusing. The other two judges are very quick to hit their "stop" buttons, but Howie sits and stares with amusement and sometimes laughs outloud at what we think are those mundane or ridiculous acts. He is truly entertained.
I used to view life this way. I found amusement and a chuckle in so many of the things in my life and the world around me. I observed more. I slowed down and took more time to look around me. I believe I enjoyed more.
Some people might say, "well you've grown up," and they are probably right, but it sucks. I don't want to be a grownup if it means I can't find wonder and joy in the little things or the absurd things happening around me. When did I become so cynical and judgmental.
When I was working every day I used to look for something humorous or interesting on my way to work. It could be a billboard, a business sign, a person at the bus stop, a crazy looking vehicle or someone walking down the road. Sometimes I would share what I'd seen with my fellow co-workers, but always I would have that image to look back at and smile throughout the day. It's a great way to start your day. Try it...you may like it.
As for me...I'm gonna get back on that "Peter Pan" train and appreciate the silly again!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
"OW" AND I SAY THAT WITH FEELING
Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone. Of course, if you have just recently had surgery...I suggest you do neither. Don't laugh, cry, burp, bend over or try to move the 50 lb. coffeetable. Cause it won't feel good. Any of it. Trust me on this!
I've actually been avoiding comedies since my surgery. I miss laughing, but the absence of pain is worth the absence of giggles! I don't even want to talk to my funny friends and I really need my comedic husband to stop with the wisecracks that make me clutch my belly in agony as my body shakes with laughter. Is he funnier now that I don't want him to be or was he always like this?
Tragedies and drama is another form of entertainment I'm trying to avoid. I'm a crier. I cry over sappy commercials. I can just fast forward through those though, as 90% of all our TV viewing is done via DVR. I was grabbing my belly and the tissues simultaneously as I watched the finale of GLEE Friday night. These kind of shows must be shunned for at least another week.
This leaves action shows only as a possible outlet. Of course even those need to be monitored. Don't want to watch any "gut wrenching" scenes. Stress can cause my stomach muscles to contract.
Oh hell, maybe I'll just read. No funny books though or tear jerkers. Hmmm, just staring off into space is always an option!
I've actually been avoiding comedies since my surgery. I miss laughing, but the absence of pain is worth the absence of giggles! I don't even want to talk to my funny friends and I really need my comedic husband to stop with the wisecracks that make me clutch my belly in agony as my body shakes with laughter. Is he funnier now that I don't want him to be or was he always like this?
Tragedies and drama is another form of entertainment I'm trying to avoid. I'm a crier. I cry over sappy commercials. I can just fast forward through those though, as 90% of all our TV viewing is done via DVR. I was grabbing my belly and the tissues simultaneously as I watched the finale of GLEE Friday night. These kind of shows must be shunned for at least another week.
This leaves action shows only as a possible outlet. Of course even those need to be monitored. Don't want to watch any "gut wrenching" scenes. Stress can cause my stomach muscles to contract.
Oh hell, maybe I'll just read. No funny books though or tear jerkers. Hmmm, just staring off into space is always an option!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
NOT ON MY LIST OF FAVORITES
Surgery of any kind if NOT going on my list of favorite things. I can't believe that people have been back to work two days after having their gallbladders removed. I feel like such a wimp, but I can barely straighten up. Today I get to take a shower though, so maybe I'll feel better after that.
I've had so many wonderful friends wishing me well. One of them even brought food...which my family really appreciated. They better make it last a few more days cause I don't intend to be at the stove again till at least Monday.
Just posting a quick note to let everyone know...I made it through, I'm sore as hell and I'd like to say, "I'm not taking this laying down"...but the truth is...I AM!
I've had so many wonderful friends wishing me well. One of them even brought food...which my family really appreciated. They better make it last a few more days cause I don't intend to be at the stove again till at least Monday.
Just posting a quick note to let everyone know...I made it through, I'm sore as hell and I'd like to say, "I'm not taking this laying down"...but the truth is...I AM!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
POST SURGERY BUCKET LIST
Tomorrow is the BIG day. I go "under the knife" for the first time ever. In celebration of that occasion I decided it was high time I made a bucket list. I figure if I have a list of things to do then everything will have to go smoothly so I can accomplish my set purpose in the universe. Besides, I ain't getting any younger, although I have to say I don't feel as old as that face in the mirror looks.
I'm not sure what normal people (I know I don't belong to this crowd) put on their bucket lists. Probably things like traveling to exotic places, eating strange and weird foods, apologizing for wrongs they've committed or finding old family members or friends, giving back to the world somehow. Yeah, that's not for me.
Just a few items on my bucket list: (1)learn pole-dancing...this one's for my hubby really, although pole dancing is good exercise, (2)visit the sky diving simulator...this is as close as I will ever get to jumping out of a plane,(3) grow an herb garden and try to keep it alive for at least six months, (4)get at least one thing published...even if it's just a letter to the editor in the Nfreakin'O, (5)create a piece of art for our home...painting, sculpture, playdough animal...something artsy, fartsy I can point to and say, "I created that"(6)finally get all my pictures organized in albums...I may die before I finish this, (7)get one of those water massages they give at the mall and maybe even get my teeth whitened and eyebrows threaded at the same mall...the same day (8)climb a rock wall...this one is a lot like work, so I'm putting it on the bottom of my list.
I'm sure I'll be adding to my list as things occur to me...but for now...I need to take a nap, so I'll be ready to tackle these projects...post surgery.
I'm not sure what normal people (I know I don't belong to this crowd) put on their bucket lists. Probably things like traveling to exotic places, eating strange and weird foods, apologizing for wrongs they've committed or finding old family members or friends, giving back to the world somehow. Yeah, that's not for me.
Just a few items on my bucket list: (1)learn pole-dancing...this one's for my hubby really, although pole dancing is good exercise, (2)visit the sky diving simulator...this is as close as I will ever get to jumping out of a plane,(3) grow an herb garden and try to keep it alive for at least six months, (4)get at least one thing published...even if it's just a letter to the editor in the Nfreakin'O, (5)create a piece of art for our home...painting, sculpture, playdough animal...something artsy, fartsy I can point to and say, "I created that"(6)finally get all my pictures organized in albums...I may die before I finish this, (7)get one of those water massages they give at the mall and maybe even get my teeth whitened and eyebrows threaded at the same mall...the same day (8)climb a rock wall...this one is a lot like work, so I'm putting it on the bottom of my list.
I'm sure I'll be adding to my list as things occur to me...but for now...I need to take a nap, so I'll be ready to tackle these projects...post surgery.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
STEP ASIDE BIG...COLOSSAL HAS ARRIVED
This blog is the product of a direct challenge from my husband. He saw a show the other night about squid...the gigantic versus the colossal squid to be exact. He's now somewhat obsessed with the word "colossal" and dared me to blog about his new favorite word. So here goes sweetie......
Have you noticed that our food...especially snack foods are getting smaller, while our mascara keeps getting bigger? It's all psychological bull crap, but the manufacturers for our cookies, crackers, etc. think if they make them smaller we will think if we are consuming less calories. Nahhhhh, we're just gonna eat twice as many of those little suckers! The manufacturers of mascara on the other hand want us to think huge and instead of having "gigantic" lashes (which paints kind of a gross picture I think) we now can have "colossal" lashes (thank you Maybelline).
The definition of gigantic is: very large; huge. The definition of colossal is: Extraordinarily great in size, extent or degree. Colossal even has a cooler sounding definition doesn't it.
Years ago we were happy with the word big...then large...huge...on to gigantic and now colossal! Let's all jump on board the colossal train. Use it in a sentence at least once today. It'll make you smile I guarantee it!
Have you noticed that our food...especially snack foods are getting smaller, while our mascara keeps getting bigger? It's all psychological bull crap, but the manufacturers for our cookies, crackers, etc. think if they make them smaller we will think if we are consuming less calories. Nahhhhh, we're just gonna eat twice as many of those little suckers! The manufacturers of mascara on the other hand want us to think huge and instead of having "gigantic" lashes (which paints kind of a gross picture I think) we now can have "colossal" lashes (thank you Maybelline).
The definition of gigantic is: very large; huge. The definition of colossal is: Extraordinarily great in size, extent or degree. Colossal even has a cooler sounding definition doesn't it.
Years ago we were happy with the word big...then large...huge...on to gigantic and now colossal! Let's all jump on board the colossal train. Use it in a sentence at least once today. It'll make you smile I guarantee it!
Friday, June 4, 2010
WALK A DAY IN HER SHOES.........
On a serious note...yesterday evening I was sitting in my car, in the Triangle Town Center parking lot waiting for my daughter to meet me for some shopping. I'd brought a magazine to look at to pass the time. I was amazed to get the last regular parking spot right where the handicap spaces started.
I was pretty deeply engrossed in the article I was reading, tipped my head up for just second to take a sip from my travel mug and froze. There was a woman in the handicap spot one row over from me. She was just closing the gate on the scooter rack attached to the back of her SUV. I watched her...wondering how she would get in the vehicle now that her scooter was safely stored away and she didn't have anyone there to help her. The driver's door was open, so she must have opened that before loading the scooter. (I missed this) She stood there for a minute, then placed both hands on the scooter rack and slowly inched her feet around the side of her ride. She kept her hands firmly placed on the side of her SUV while she painfully and very, very slowly moved toward the open door, stopping every few seconds to catch her breath. It took her almost two minutes to go from the back of her car to the driver's door. When she got to the door, she stood there for awhile, head bowed and then reached inside the vehicle and pulled out a small stool. Placing the stool on the pavement she stepped onto it, paused for a few seconds, slowly turned herself around and using the steering wheel pulled herself into her car. She sat with her feet dangling for several seconds, then grabbing her legs, pulled them into the SUV and turned herself around in the seat. Finally after another break, she held the steering wheel and lowered herself out to grab her stool and pull it inside, before driving away.
I wanted to go help, but I was literally frozen in fascination at such a brave, courageous woman. I don't even want to take a walk around the block for exercise and this woman drove herself the mall and managed to get herself headed back home again. What a lazy, ungrateful person I've become.
Besides the fortitude this woman showed, she looked lovely. Her hair was styled in a blond bob and she wore a deep orange top over a flowy black and white skirt and black shoes. So not only did she take the time to go to the mall by herself, even though she was handicapped, she took the time to look nice while she was there. How many of us think about how we're dressed while we're out shopping?
Resolution to myself: Stop being too sluggish to fix myself up before leaving the house. Stop complaining about every little thing that's not absolutely perfect in my life. Stop bitching when I can't find a parking space close to the door. Think about this woman and be forever grateful for my strong legs and body and stop worrying about the fat around my middle or my ever increasing cellulite. How trivial! I've been moaning a lot lately, but I can't for the life of me figure out why I have anything at all to bitch about. How about you?
I was pretty deeply engrossed in the article I was reading, tipped my head up for just second to take a sip from my travel mug and froze. There was a woman in the handicap spot one row over from me. She was just closing the gate on the scooter rack attached to the back of her SUV. I watched her...wondering how she would get in the vehicle now that her scooter was safely stored away and she didn't have anyone there to help her. The driver's door was open, so she must have opened that before loading the scooter. (I missed this) She stood there for a minute, then placed both hands on the scooter rack and slowly inched her feet around the side of her ride. She kept her hands firmly placed on the side of her SUV while she painfully and very, very slowly moved toward the open door, stopping every few seconds to catch her breath. It took her almost two minutes to go from the back of her car to the driver's door. When she got to the door, she stood there for awhile, head bowed and then reached inside the vehicle and pulled out a small stool. Placing the stool on the pavement she stepped onto it, paused for a few seconds, slowly turned herself around and using the steering wheel pulled herself into her car. She sat with her feet dangling for several seconds, then grabbing her legs, pulled them into the SUV and turned herself around in the seat. Finally after another break, she held the steering wheel and lowered herself out to grab her stool and pull it inside, before driving away.
I wanted to go help, but I was literally frozen in fascination at such a brave, courageous woman. I don't even want to take a walk around the block for exercise and this woman drove herself the mall and managed to get herself headed back home again. What a lazy, ungrateful person I've become.
Besides the fortitude this woman showed, she looked lovely. Her hair was styled in a blond bob and she wore a deep orange top over a flowy black and white skirt and black shoes. So not only did she take the time to go to the mall by herself, even though she was handicapped, she took the time to look nice while she was there. How many of us think about how we're dressed while we're out shopping?
Resolution to myself: Stop being too sluggish to fix myself up before leaving the house. Stop complaining about every little thing that's not absolutely perfect in my life. Stop bitching when I can't find a parking space close to the door. Think about this woman and be forever grateful for my strong legs and body and stop worrying about the fat around my middle or my ever increasing cellulite. How trivial! I've been moaning a lot lately, but I can't for the life of me figure out why I have anything at all to bitch about. How about you?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
PEDRO SAYS...........
My hubby and I always try to make our road trips fun. Sometimes we rent a book on tape to listen to, we play the child's game of naming items we see starting with each letter of the alphabet, we name a certain model car to look for and score points for each one we point out.
On our recent trip to Florida we got caught up in the South of the Border signs. (SOB for true fans) For my Northern friends you may not know what I'm talking about, but SOB is a landmark on I-95 just over the North Carolina/South Carolina border in Dillon, SC. It is sometimes referred to as a "tourist trap", but I prefer to think of it as a "tourist complex". They have lots of shopping,(imagine 13 different styles of backscratchers), places to eat, a motel with over 300 rooms and a campground. The area is marked by a huge sombrero 200 hundred feet in the air which can be spotted way before you actually arrive at the exit.
What makes SOB really great is the billboards they have lining the highway for 200 miles before you even arrive there. There are 120 billboards, featuring their mascot Pedro and we decided we would read each and every one of them between Raleigh, NC and Dillon, SC...with a Mexican accent of course! I started and I got to read the signs as long as I didn't miss one. Once I became preoccupied and skipped one...my hubby got to read till he missed one. Silly...but fun when the signs read: "Pedro says: You never SAUSAGE a place" and "You're always a WEINER at Pedros". By the time you reach the exit...how can you NOT visit this place?
I just discovered that they offer a lovely wedding package there. Hmmmm, maybe for the renewing of our vows on our 10th anniversary?
On our recent trip to Florida we got caught up in the South of the Border signs. (SOB for true fans) For my Northern friends you may not know what I'm talking about, but SOB is a landmark on I-95 just over the North Carolina/South Carolina border in Dillon, SC. It is sometimes referred to as a "tourist trap", but I prefer to think of it as a "tourist complex". They have lots of shopping,(imagine 13 different styles of backscratchers), places to eat, a motel with over 300 rooms and a campground. The area is marked by a huge sombrero 200 hundred feet in the air which can be spotted way before you actually arrive at the exit.
What makes SOB really great is the billboards they have lining the highway for 200 miles before you even arrive there. There are 120 billboards, featuring their mascot Pedro and we decided we would read each and every one of them between Raleigh, NC and Dillon, SC...with a Mexican accent of course! I started and I got to read the signs as long as I didn't miss one. Once I became preoccupied and skipped one...my hubby got to read till he missed one. Silly...but fun when the signs read: "Pedro says: You never SAUSAGE a place" and "You're always a WEINER at Pedros". By the time you reach the exit...how can you NOT visit this place?
I just discovered that they offer a lovely wedding package there. Hmmmm, maybe for the renewing of our vows on our 10th anniversary?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
DO AS I SAY...NOT AS I DO OR IT'LL COST YOU
I received my pre-operative instructions from my surgeon yesterday. Attached to the instructions was another sheet entitled, Rescheduling, Insurance & Financial Policy.
One paragraph really jumped out at me on that sheet: In the event that you should need to reschedule your surgery date for other than emergent situations, please be advised that a surcharge of $50.00 (fifty) will be charged to your account.
The next paragraph stated: Please also be advised that due to the emergent nature of surgery, there are instances when your surgeon may be called to an emergency or due to conflicts in the operating room, we may have to reschedule your surgery. We are very grateful for your cooperation in this regard.
Now hang on a dang minute...if I reschedule it costs me $50...if my surgeon reschedules I should just be cooperative, but I don't get $50. Hmmmm, seems like a double standard clause to me. Kind of like waiting in the office for an hour after your appointment time...but if I arrived an hour late...they'd make you reschedule. What's wrong with this picture? Oh wait...I get it...I didn't do eight years of college, plus a residency! Never mind...I get it now!
One paragraph really jumped out at me on that sheet: In the event that you should need to reschedule your surgery date for other than emergent situations, please be advised that a surcharge of $50.00 (fifty) will be charged to your account.
The next paragraph stated: Please also be advised that due to the emergent nature of surgery, there are instances when your surgeon may be called to an emergency or due to conflicts in the operating room, we may have to reschedule your surgery. We are very grateful for your cooperation in this regard.
Now hang on a dang minute...if I reschedule it costs me $50...if my surgeon reschedules I should just be cooperative, but I don't get $50. Hmmmm, seems like a double standard clause to me. Kind of like waiting in the office for an hour after your appointment time...but if I arrived an hour late...they'd make you reschedule. What's wrong with this picture? Oh wait...I get it...I didn't do eight years of college, plus a residency! Never mind...I get it now!
Monday, May 31, 2010
WHAT'S UP DOC?
Doctors really can be frustrating individuals. During my preliminary visit to the surgeons office last Wednesday, I was handed five sheets of paperwork to fill out before I was taken back to see the doctor. Three of those sheets asked about my visit and why I was there, along with other various life-probing questions, so I couldn't help but laugh when I was finally shown to a room and the nurse asked, "so how can we help you today?" Hello? Didn't I just answer that question at least three times before coming into this room? Okay, so maybe the nurse was illiterate, so I helped her out..."I was told I need to have my gallbladder removed." The nurse smiled sweetly, told me the doctor would be in to see me soon and left the room.
I was fine, until the doctor entered the room and said, "So what brings you to my office today?", while opening my chart. OMG...are you kidding me? Are you going to remember when you get me on your operating table and I can't speak up for myself, what the purpose of my "visit" is? After I brought the doctor up to speed as to why he was meeting with me, the rest of the visit went very smoothly as he explained to me in detail how he would perform the procedure.
Just be sure we're all on the same page on surgery day, I'm thinking about taking a magic marker and writing across my lower abdomen..."GALLBLADDER REMOVAL", just in case the doc doesn't have time for his morning coffee and experiences fuzzy brain. I'd hate to wake up with a colostomy bag and a stone infested gallbladder still firmly embedded in my body. The only decision I need to make now is...should I use a black or a red marker?
I was fine, until the doctor entered the room and said, "So what brings you to my office today?", while opening my chart. OMG...are you kidding me? Are you going to remember when you get me on your operating table and I can't speak up for myself, what the purpose of my "visit" is? After I brought the doctor up to speed as to why he was meeting with me, the rest of the visit went very smoothly as he explained to me in detail how he would perform the procedure.
Just be sure we're all on the same page on surgery day, I'm thinking about taking a magic marker and writing across my lower abdomen..."GALLBLADDER REMOVAL", just in case the doc doesn't have time for his morning coffee and experiences fuzzy brain. I'd hate to wake up with a colostomy bag and a stone infested gallbladder still firmly embedded in my body. The only decision I need to make now is...should I use a black or a red marker?
Saturday, May 29, 2010
IF THE SHOE FITS........
I've become obsessed with shoes lately. I've always loved owning shoes, buying shoes, trying shoes on, but lately I find myself constantly checking out other people's shoes. I can't wear the 3"-4" heels I loved in my 20's and 30's, but I enjoy seeing them on other women. I sigh when I see an extraordinary pair of heels and wish that I could still bend my feet into those unnatural positions.
I was using a public restroom the other night and found myself checking out the shoes of the women in the stalls on either side of me. One woman wore a pair of nose bleed high heels in black and white with a touch of burgundy. Irresistible! These wonderful shoes belonged to a tall, long legged black woman with a silky black wig and wearing sunglasses...in the lady's room. Those shoes definitely fit her personality! The pair of feet on the other side of me were clothed in flats, done in a leopard print with a tiny bow on the toe strap and narrow straps wrapped around the ankles. Fantastic!
I've never had a foot fetish, but I sure have developed a shoe fetish. I decided after looking at all these beautiful shoes on other women that it's time to dump my comfy Croc sandals and start wearing some of the shiny, bejeweled numbers I've been stock piling in my own closet. Then instead of checking out the footwear, on my stall buddies, when I go to empty my bladder, I can look down at my own prettily clad tootsies and smile.
I was using a public restroom the other night and found myself checking out the shoes of the women in the stalls on either side of me. One woman wore a pair of nose bleed high heels in black and white with a touch of burgundy. Irresistible! These wonderful shoes belonged to a tall, long legged black woman with a silky black wig and wearing sunglasses...in the lady's room. Those shoes definitely fit her personality! The pair of feet on the other side of me were clothed in flats, done in a leopard print with a tiny bow on the toe strap and narrow straps wrapped around the ankles. Fantastic!
I've never had a foot fetish, but I sure have developed a shoe fetish. I decided after looking at all these beautiful shoes on other women that it's time to dump my comfy Croc sandals and start wearing some of the shiny, bejeweled numbers I've been stock piling in my own closet. Then instead of checking out the footwear, on my stall buddies, when I go to empty my bladder, I can look down at my own prettily clad tootsies and smile.
Friday, May 28, 2010
A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING & EVERYTHING IN IT'S PLACE
Organization is the key to conquering the world. It’s not “unorganized crime” and it’s not “unorganizing a coup”...ya gotta be organized to really accomplish anything.
I used to be uber-organized. I was the go-to girl if you wanted an event to run smoothly or simply see that things got done. Lately though...not so much. The world can rest easy again. Debe will not be “directing” a take-over.
I can barely make a list these days, although I used to live by them. Before I went to bed at night I’d make a list of what I wanted to accomplish the next day. Lists for chores, lists for shopping, lists for traveling, lists for parties...I was all about lists. Trees can breathe a sigh of relief cause Debe’s not using up pads of paper making lists anymore.
When did I start this downhill tumble into disorganization? About 18 months ago I believe...when I was laid-off. I HAD to be orderly when I was working. With an eight hour day in the office, plus my travel time...I needed to be sure I kept up with everything else that needed to be done.
I can get high off an organized day. It makes me feel alive to know that I left the house, lists in hand and made the perfect circle to each of the places I needed to visit in order to complete my chores.
Now, I stretch yawn and think...WTH I’ve got all day…I think I’ll take a nap before going grocery shopping or making the bed or doing laundry or grooming the dog or watering the plants. The days I accomplish the most are the days when I have a reason to get up and out of the house early in the morning. Then because I don’t want to come back and have to go out again...I co-ordinate my activities so I can get everything I need while I’m gone. Once back inside the house…the sofa or computer calls me and then I’m lost in the world of the disorganized again.
The key here may be in getting up and out of the house early, but I’ll have to take a little snooze and think about that for awhile. I’m just not up to “organizing” my thoughts at the moment.
I used to be uber-organized. I was the go-to girl if you wanted an event to run smoothly or simply see that things got done. Lately though...not so much. The world can rest easy again. Debe will not be “directing” a take-over.
I can barely make a list these days, although I used to live by them. Before I went to bed at night I’d make a list of what I wanted to accomplish the next day. Lists for chores, lists for shopping, lists for traveling, lists for parties...I was all about lists. Trees can breathe a sigh of relief cause Debe’s not using up pads of paper making lists anymore.
When did I start this downhill tumble into disorganization? About 18 months ago I believe...when I was laid-off. I HAD to be orderly when I was working. With an eight hour day in the office, plus my travel time...I needed to be sure I kept up with everything else that needed to be done.
I can get high off an organized day. It makes me feel alive to know that I left the house, lists in hand and made the perfect circle to each of the places I needed to visit in order to complete my chores.
Now, I stretch yawn and think...WTH I’ve got all day…I think I’ll take a nap before going grocery shopping or making the bed or doing laundry or grooming the dog or watering the plants. The days I accomplish the most are the days when I have a reason to get up and out of the house early in the morning. Then because I don’t want to come back and have to go out again...I co-ordinate my activities so I can get everything I need while I’m gone. Once back inside the house…the sofa or computer calls me and then I’m lost in the world of the disorganized again.
The key here may be in getting up and out of the house early, but I’ll have to take a little snooze and think about that for awhile. I’m just not up to “organizing” my thoughts at the moment.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
BAD DOG!
How long after your dog rains down destruction can you chastise him? Our somewhat crazy ass dog Zeus destroyed the carpeting in front of my daughter’s bedroom door. And when I say “destroyed”, I mean ripped it to shreds. He tore it into pieces, including the matting and I’m sure he would have torn up the sub-flooring too if his nails had been strong enough. (Note to self: cut dog’s toe nails to the quick before leaving on vacation)
While we were away my daughter was babysitting both dogs. Hers is the prissy little Chihuahua who hates my husband and ours is a lab/chow mix who’s afraid of his own shadow. The dogs aren’t used to being left alone for long periods of time anymore since I was laid off a year ago and stay home most of the time now. My daughter however works 8-5. She put her dog, Dolce, inside her crate (where she stays when we’re not home) and closed her bedroom door. She left our bedroom door open so Zeus could go lay either on his bed or ours.
Obviously, he didn’t want to lie down. Being separated from Dolce for nine hours must have been too much for him, so in order to get to her he figured he’d just dig his way under the door and into her room. Have to give him credit for effort. There’s no more carpet blocking the door. A few more hours and he probably would have eaten the door itself. Luckily my daughter came home before he could begin his teeth action.
We now have options. Get the carpet patched...we know a guy who does this. Cut away the torn up part...and cover it with a throw rug. Replace it with a wood threshold...four feet wide. I think we’re going to opt for the wood. He WILL be alone in the house again and Lord knows I don’t want to feel like killing him, should he annihilate repaired carpeting. Using throw rugs seems so “grandma-ish” (I remember round area rugs in front of doors in old people’s homes). He may scratch the hell out of the wood, but Pergo is pretty sturdy and he hates the wood floors downstairs, so hopefully he’ll be so terrorized by the slippery surface he’ll leave the area alone.
Well a person can dream can’t they?
While we were away my daughter was babysitting both dogs. Hers is the prissy little Chihuahua who hates my husband and ours is a lab/chow mix who’s afraid of his own shadow. The dogs aren’t used to being left alone for long periods of time anymore since I was laid off a year ago and stay home most of the time now. My daughter however works 8-5. She put her dog, Dolce, inside her crate (where she stays when we’re not home) and closed her bedroom door. She left our bedroom door open so Zeus could go lay either on his bed or ours.
Obviously, he didn’t want to lie down. Being separated from Dolce for nine hours must have been too much for him, so in order to get to her he figured he’d just dig his way under the door and into her room. Have to give him credit for effort. There’s no more carpet blocking the door. A few more hours and he probably would have eaten the door itself. Luckily my daughter came home before he could begin his teeth action.
We now have options. Get the carpet patched...we know a guy who does this. Cut away the torn up part...and cover it with a throw rug. Replace it with a wood threshold...four feet wide. I think we’re going to opt for the wood. He WILL be alone in the house again and Lord knows I don’t want to feel like killing him, should he annihilate repaired carpeting. Using throw rugs seems so “grandma-ish” (I remember round area rugs in front of doors in old people’s homes). He may scratch the hell out of the wood, but Pergo is pretty sturdy and he hates the wood floors downstairs, so hopefully he’ll be so terrorized by the slippery surface he’ll leave the area alone.
Well a person can dream can’t they?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
GOING UNDER THE KNIFE
Surgery...I hate even the sound of that word. However I'm about to experience this thrilling event for the first time and I am not afraid to say that I'm nervous.
On our way back from our great vacation this past week, I started having chest pains about 4 hours from home. They got so bad that we stopped at an emergency room in Florence, SC to have me checked out. It wasn't my heart...thank God. However, the attending physician seemed to think it was possibly my gall bladder and suggested I go see my doctor on Monday. I went...was scheduled for an ultra-sound Tuesday and today I go see a surgeon. I have gall stones. What the hell? I'm a healthy eater, I watch my weight...I try to live a good life...and I get this crap.
A lot of my friends have told me they've had their gall bladders removed and it's no big deal...but this being the first time I've ever had a surgical procedure...it's kind of a big deal to me. I could care less about scaring. I'm dreading the pain afterward and the healing time. I hate not being 100%. Besides I had a goal of dying with all my organs and teeth in place. Dang gall bladder just shattered that dream.
I'm hoping the surgeon will be able to put my mind at ease about everything that's about to happen. I'll need lots of drugs, so I'm going to be sure he has a good supply handy!
It's a week of first. First cruise...topped by first surgery. Could I have my first lottery winning next please?
On our way back from our great vacation this past week, I started having chest pains about 4 hours from home. They got so bad that we stopped at an emergency room in Florence, SC to have me checked out. It wasn't my heart...thank God. However, the attending physician seemed to think it was possibly my gall bladder and suggested I go see my doctor on Monday. I went...was scheduled for an ultra-sound Tuesday and today I go see a surgeon. I have gall stones. What the hell? I'm a healthy eater, I watch my weight...I try to live a good life...and I get this crap.
A lot of my friends have told me they've had their gall bladders removed and it's no big deal...but this being the first time I've ever had a surgical procedure...it's kind of a big deal to me. I could care less about scaring. I'm dreading the pain afterward and the healing time. I hate not being 100%. Besides I had a goal of dying with all my organs and teeth in place. Dang gall bladder just shattered that dream.
I'm hoping the surgeon will be able to put my mind at ease about everything that's about to happen. I'll need lots of drugs, so I'm going to be sure he has a good supply handy!
It's a week of first. First cruise...topped by first surgery. Could I have my first lottery winning next please?
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
CRUISE NEWS
Carnival Cruise line took my virginity this past week. My husband and I enjoyed our first cruise...and I mean really "enjoyed"! Carnival has been described as a "party barge" and I think that's pretty accurate. It was a fairly young crowd, but us oldies, but goodies managed to hold our own. There was non-stop entertainment and I don't believe I've ever witnessed so much alcohol consumption.
We booked an inside cabin and I wasn't the least bit disappointed. I expected there to be barely enough room to turn around, but I just thought it was cozy. Besides the king bed, which was extremely comfortable, there were two closets (one a very good size) and a desk with three drawers for storing your gear. The bathroom was another surprise. I expected it to be so small I'd have to prop my legs on the toilet seat in order to shave them, but it was a nice size also. Lots of water pressure in the shower too. I never felt claustrophobic for a minute inside our room. Of course, we didn't spend much time in there.
My other major concern was motion sickness. We got some patches from our pharmacist just to be sure, but we only used one of them. I put one on Saturday morning because it was the first time I could actually feel the boat moving. The seas were a little rough, but even that didn't make it unbearable. I applied the patch as a precaution only. Within a couple of hours we were in calm waters again and I actually forgot we were even moving.
Checking off the boat was a bit of a hassle...only because we thought we were leaving the ship at 7a.m. and they didn't take our area till about 8:30. We got up at 6 and got a nice breakfast one last time, then sat and waited till they called Zone 7 to disembark. It all runs like a well oiled machine and I appreciated that. Next time we'll sleep in a bit longer on the last day on board.
All in all we had a marvelous time and I look forward to sailing again. Next time we hope to have some friends sail with us. I think several couples would really have a good time together on a cruise. Let me know if you're interested! We may plan one for a our 10th anniversary next year!
We booked an inside cabin and I wasn't the least bit disappointed. I expected there to be barely enough room to turn around, but I just thought it was cozy. Besides the king bed, which was extremely comfortable, there were two closets (one a very good size) and a desk with three drawers for storing your gear. The bathroom was another surprise. I expected it to be so small I'd have to prop my legs on the toilet seat in order to shave them, but it was a nice size also. Lots of water pressure in the shower too. I never felt claustrophobic for a minute inside our room. Of course, we didn't spend much time in there.
My other major concern was motion sickness. We got some patches from our pharmacist just to be sure, but we only used one of them. I put one on Saturday morning because it was the first time I could actually feel the boat moving. The seas were a little rough, but even that didn't make it unbearable. I applied the patch as a precaution only. Within a couple of hours we were in calm waters again and I actually forgot we were even moving.
Checking off the boat was a bit of a hassle...only because we thought we were leaving the ship at 7a.m. and they didn't take our area till about 8:30. We got up at 6 and got a nice breakfast one last time, then sat and waited till they called Zone 7 to disembark. It all runs like a well oiled machine and I appreciated that. Next time we'll sleep in a bit longer on the last day on board.
All in all we had a marvelous time and I look forward to sailing again. Next time we hope to have some friends sail with us. I think several couples would really have a good time together on a cruise. Let me know if you're interested! We may plan one for a our 10th anniversary next year!
Friday, May 14, 2010
VACATION PACKING
Only four more days till our vacation! I can't wait to throw the suitcases in the car and hit the road. Well, maybe we won't be "throwing" the bags in the car. More like hiring a crane and "loading" them in. At least when it comes to mine, which I have already stuffed in anticipation of our first cruise.
I posted a statement on Facebook and asked if I should pack too much as opposed to having not enough. So funny how all the women said "pack away" and the guys said "take only half of what you think you need". HA, I'm a woman, fellas and we pack for every possible scenario. I have several dresses for evenings, shorts in all lengths and colors and then several tops to go with those shorts (cause you never know which one you'll be in the mood to wear), then there are shoes for each outfit and jewelry. Bathing suits (ugh) are a must. I only packed two cause I hate them...but I made up for it with four different coverups. Cardigan sweaters (brown and black), windbreaker, rain gear, tennis shoes and exercise clothes (thinking positive) and a pair of jeans...just in case. Underwear is also specialized. Bras in several colors, panties in different styles and colors...they're all going with me.
On Monday night I'll pack the cosmetic case. That is a separate bag altogether and the older I get the more lotions and potions I need to take with me.
My husband will pack his bag Monday night around 10p.m. He'll just open drawers throw T-shirts, shorts, a pair of swim trunks, one pair of dress slacks and a couple of polo shirts in his suitcase and he'll be done. He'll probably take two pair of shoes and a couple of hats also.
OMG...that reminds I forgot my hats...gotta go...more packing to do!!
I posted a statement on Facebook and asked if I should pack too much as opposed to having not enough. So funny how all the women said "pack away" and the guys said "take only half of what you think you need". HA, I'm a woman, fellas and we pack for every possible scenario. I have several dresses for evenings, shorts in all lengths and colors and then several tops to go with those shorts (cause you never know which one you'll be in the mood to wear), then there are shoes for each outfit and jewelry. Bathing suits (ugh) are a must. I only packed two cause I hate them...but I made up for it with four different coverups. Cardigan sweaters (brown and black), windbreaker, rain gear, tennis shoes and exercise clothes (thinking positive) and a pair of jeans...just in case. Underwear is also specialized. Bras in several colors, panties in different styles and colors...they're all going with me.
On Monday night I'll pack the cosmetic case. That is a separate bag altogether and the older I get the more lotions and potions I need to take with me.
My husband will pack his bag Monday night around 10p.m. He'll just open drawers throw T-shirts, shorts, a pair of swim trunks, one pair of dress slacks and a couple of polo shirts in his suitcase and he'll be done. He'll probably take two pair of shoes and a couple of hats also.
OMG...that reminds I forgot my hats...gotta go...more packing to do!!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I FALL DOWN...GO BOOM
I introduced my son, Adam and his girlfriend, Danielle, to the joys of Rum Runners on Saturday night. I can't say the place was hoppin', but we enjoyed ourselves. That is until I decided to take a nose dive.
At Rum Runners, periodically they will get people from the audience to come up on the small stage with them to dance or act silly. I got dragged up there to dance and Danielle joined me. I kicked off my sandals to give mY feet access to more movement and boogied away. When the song was over I jumped off the stage to grab my sandals and for some unknown reason decided to hop back up on stage instead of just walking back to our table. Didn't exactly execute a graceful move. I caught my sandal and toe on the edge of the stage and started to crash toward the floor. I was able to catch myself so I just landed on my knees and wrists (just missing the piano leg with my head). Luckily I had just enough alcohol in me not to feel embarrassed. I jumped up to my feet, did a brief bow and exited back to my seat.
I actually forgot about it till around 4a.m. when I awoke from a sound sleep and could barely move. I felt like I'd been in a car wreck. When did I get so old that just taking a little tumble could make me ache for days? I'm thinking maybe I didn't have enough booze in me. Maybe that would have made me more relaxed and I wouldn't feel like I've been hit by a train.
Note to self: drink more when out at clubs, in case you take a tumble.
At Rum Runners, periodically they will get people from the audience to come up on the small stage with them to dance or act silly. I got dragged up there to dance and Danielle joined me. I kicked off my sandals to give mY feet access to more movement and boogied away. When the song was over I jumped off the stage to grab my sandals and for some unknown reason decided to hop back up on stage instead of just walking back to our table. Didn't exactly execute a graceful move. I caught my sandal and toe on the edge of the stage and started to crash toward the floor. I was able to catch myself so I just landed on my knees and wrists (just missing the piano leg with my head). Luckily I had just enough alcohol in me not to feel embarrassed. I jumped up to my feet, did a brief bow and exited back to my seat.
I actually forgot about it till around 4a.m. when I awoke from a sound sleep and could barely move. I felt like I'd been in a car wreck. When did I get so old that just taking a little tumble could make me ache for days? I'm thinking maybe I didn't have enough booze in me. Maybe that would have made me more relaxed and I wouldn't feel like I've been hit by a train.
Note to self: drink more when out at clubs, in case you take a tumble.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
KINDNESS BEGETS KINDNESS
Little acts of kindness can put a smile in someone's heart. This past Thanksgiving, my son, his girlfriend and I were driving through Starbucks to grab a pumpkin latte for Danielle. When we got to the window to pay we were informed that the car in front of us had paid for her drink. To this day, I smile every time I think about that generous act. It made me want to bless others. Pay it forward so to speak.
I've yet to cover someone's bill at a drive thru, but I do little things that I hope will lighten someone's load just a bit. I often shop at Aldi's and you are required to pay a quarter for their carts. When you return your cart you get your quarter back. It's a great system for keeping the parking lot...cart free. I like to look for someone about to get a wagon and give them mine. When they go to hand me their quarter I always say, "that's okay, just give the cart to someone else to use." It's not much...but to some people that quarter is a great deal.
I look around me and try to be aware of people struggling to get doors open and hold them open, elderly people often need assistance getting groceries off top shelves or just separating the carts in the entry of the store and it only takes a moment to lend a hand.
The other day I was at Kroger's and while I was checking out an older, rough looking man came in looking for a certain kind of candy. He asked my checkout girl if there was anyone who could assist him and she looked down her nose and said, "no". He walked away and I questioned the girl. She said, "we don't have anyone available to help him. Everyone is busy." For some reason this really made me angry. I paid for my groceries, then told the girl to watch my cart and went in search of the man. There he was in the candy aisle struggling to read the packages. I helped him find the candy he was looking for, went back and grabbed my groceries and headed home. I don't even know if he knew I was a customer and not someone who worked there. He did say, "thanks" rather gruffly. It wasn't about being thanked though, it was about feeling that I did a little something to help another person living in this crazy world and that made me feel better about myself.
In this age of talking, texting, everyone always being in a rush and people rarely making eye contact, I think we've forgotten to take moments out of our day to connect with those around us. If this little blog inspires just one person to open their eyes and help a stranger now and then...then I'm glad I wrote it.
I've yet to cover someone's bill at a drive thru, but I do little things that I hope will lighten someone's load just a bit. I often shop at Aldi's and you are required to pay a quarter for their carts. When you return your cart you get your quarter back. It's a great system for keeping the parking lot...cart free. I like to look for someone about to get a wagon and give them mine. When they go to hand me their quarter I always say, "that's okay, just give the cart to someone else to use." It's not much...but to some people that quarter is a great deal.
I look around me and try to be aware of people struggling to get doors open and hold them open, elderly people often need assistance getting groceries off top shelves or just separating the carts in the entry of the store and it only takes a moment to lend a hand.
The other day I was at Kroger's and while I was checking out an older, rough looking man came in looking for a certain kind of candy. He asked my checkout girl if there was anyone who could assist him and she looked down her nose and said, "no". He walked away and I questioned the girl. She said, "we don't have anyone available to help him. Everyone is busy." For some reason this really made me angry. I paid for my groceries, then told the girl to watch my cart and went in search of the man. There he was in the candy aisle struggling to read the packages. I helped him find the candy he was looking for, went back and grabbed my groceries and headed home. I don't even know if he knew I was a customer and not someone who worked there. He did say, "thanks" rather gruffly. It wasn't about being thanked though, it was about feeling that I did a little something to help another person living in this crazy world and that made me feel better about myself.
In this age of talking, texting, everyone always being in a rush and people rarely making eye contact, I think we've forgotten to take moments out of our day to connect with those around us. If this little blog inspires just one person to open their eyes and help a stranger now and then...then I'm glad I wrote it.
Monday, May 10, 2010
SWING BATTA BATTA
I feel so much younger than the sum of my years. That is until I played softball on Saturday afternoon for the first time in about 30 years.
Saturday I attended a picnic with the Triangle Couples meetup group. After a nice relaxing lunch, our hosts decided to put together a softball game. Silly me...I signed up to play. I wasn't really expecting much out of myself other than some exercise swinging a bat at the air as the ball whizzed by me. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard "WHACK" and saw the ball flying off the end of my bat. I ran...as fast as my ancient legs would take me and low and behold I was "safe" at first. I was ecstatic! But as the next person up to bat hit the ball and I had to run to second...and then the next person got a hit and I had to run to third...I began to question the wisdom in my actually trying to hit the ball. If I hadn't hit it...I wouldn't have had to run. Hmmmm, I could be onto something here. SAFE at home! I had run all four bases. As I sat in my camp chair trying to catch my breath and willing the sun to stop beating down on my head...I realized...I was through. I wasn't getting paid for this punishment. I had no intention of hitting the ball again if I got up to bat...so I gave my team a break and headed to the picnic shelter to relax with the rest of the intelligent over 40/50 crowd who chose to just watch the game and not actually participate.
Thank God I took myself out of the game. I could barely move by the time evening approached and going to Rum Runners and tripping over my own two feet didn't help with the aches and pains any. But that's another story. Talk to you tomorrow.
Saturday I attended a picnic with the Triangle Couples meetup group. After a nice relaxing lunch, our hosts decided to put together a softball game. Silly me...I signed up to play. I wasn't really expecting much out of myself other than some exercise swinging a bat at the air as the ball whizzed by me. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard "WHACK" and saw the ball flying off the end of my bat. I ran...as fast as my ancient legs would take me and low and behold I was "safe" at first. I was ecstatic! But as the next person up to bat hit the ball and I had to run to second...and then the next person got a hit and I had to run to third...I began to question the wisdom in my actually trying to hit the ball. If I hadn't hit it...I wouldn't have had to run. Hmmmm, I could be onto something here. SAFE at home! I had run all four bases. As I sat in my camp chair trying to catch my breath and willing the sun to stop beating down on my head...I realized...I was through. I wasn't getting paid for this punishment. I had no intention of hitting the ball again if I got up to bat...so I gave my team a break and headed to the picnic shelter to relax with the rest of the intelligent over 40/50 crowd who chose to just watch the game and not actually participate.
Thank God I took myself out of the game. I could barely move by the time evening approached and going to Rum Runners and tripping over my own two feet didn't help with the aches and pains any. But that's another story. Talk to you tomorrow.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
BLENDING IN
I like to stay anonymous on the road. I like black or white cars with no flashy accessories. Well, I have to admit to having a "peace frog" sticker adorning the spare tire on my back bumper...but nothing more than a little splash of color. I also have a huge monkey, who sits in a booster seat in my backseat, but with my tinted windows no one sees him. He's merely there for company and passenger entertainment.
Yesterday I was sitting at a red light, when I spotted a huge rolling orange heading toward me, about three blocks away. I just gaped at this car when it finally reached my intersection. It was an older model Chevy, bright, bright orange. The chrome on the wheels was trimmed out in orange. The car had been lifted so you'd need a small step ladder to climb into it. (or at least I would cause white girls don't jump) Behind the wheel was a huge black man, so large his belly was up against the steering wheel. His windows were rolled down, the bass on his stereo turned up so loud...MY car started vibrating. After the initial shock of it all wore off I looked at the driver and couldn't help smiling at the big grin on his face. He obviously thought he was the "shit" and I was happy for him.
I wouldn't even want to be a passenger in a car like that. Forget the stress of having to figure out how to climb in and out...the stares of fellow road travelers and pedestrians would make me want to crawl under the dash.
Years ago I owned a copper Mazda. It was the first time that color had ever been on the road. I traded the car in six months later because of all the stares it got. I considered buying a Volkswagen bug when they first reissued them, but I knew I'd have to have a bright blue one and cover it in flowers. Not exactly non-descript. I don't want a sports vehicle either cause I'd order it in bright red and it's a known fact that red cars get stopped by police more than any other color car. I've got a heavy foot...so I want to stay as ghost like as possible on the road.
Nope, I'll keep my lovely low key black RAV4. The peace frog is really just so I can identify my car in parking lots. It's a very, very popular model. Ahhhh anonymity.
Yesterday I was sitting at a red light, when I spotted a huge rolling orange heading toward me, about three blocks away. I just gaped at this car when it finally reached my intersection. It was an older model Chevy, bright, bright orange. The chrome on the wheels was trimmed out in orange. The car had been lifted so you'd need a small step ladder to climb into it. (or at least I would cause white girls don't jump) Behind the wheel was a huge black man, so large his belly was up against the steering wheel. His windows were rolled down, the bass on his stereo turned up so loud...MY car started vibrating. After the initial shock of it all wore off I looked at the driver and couldn't help smiling at the big grin on his face. He obviously thought he was the "shit" and I was happy for him.
I wouldn't even want to be a passenger in a car like that. Forget the stress of having to figure out how to climb in and out...the stares of fellow road travelers and pedestrians would make me want to crawl under the dash.
Years ago I owned a copper Mazda. It was the first time that color had ever been on the road. I traded the car in six months later because of all the stares it got. I considered buying a Volkswagen bug when they first reissued them, but I knew I'd have to have a bright blue one and cover it in flowers. Not exactly non-descript. I don't want a sports vehicle either cause I'd order it in bright red and it's a known fact that red cars get stopped by police more than any other color car. I've got a heavy foot...so I want to stay as ghost like as possible on the road.
Nope, I'll keep my lovely low key black RAV4. The peace frog is really just so I can identify my car in parking lots. It's a very, very popular model. Ahhhh anonymity.
Friday, May 7, 2010
WOMAN OVERBOARD?
Suggestion: If you are preparing to go on your first ever cruise...do NOT watch Deadly Honeymoon. This is a movie about a couple on a honeymoon cruise and he suddenly disappears...apparently he went overboard...and she is the suspect.
We will be cruising at the end of this month and now...I've got to be sure I don't stand too close to the rails, while my husband has his hand on my back. Of course with my over active imagination I can picture all kinds of "lost at sea" scenarios. I plan on canceling the small life insurance policy we have on me and I'll be sure to let my husband know there is no monetary value to me taking a midnight swim over the side of our ship. I'm also sending out this blog so everyone will know I'm gonna be on board a floating death trap and if I disappear you can get in touch with the authorities.
Okay folks, just kidding. If my hubby wanted to get rid of me he'd put arsenic in my coffee, not try to shove me off a ship with thousands of potential witnesses. But just in case...I made sure we didn't get a room with a balcony. I mean why tempt fate, huh?
We will be cruising at the end of this month and now...I've got to be sure I don't stand too close to the rails, while my husband has his hand on my back. Of course with my over active imagination I can picture all kinds of "lost at sea" scenarios. I plan on canceling the small life insurance policy we have on me and I'll be sure to let my husband know there is no monetary value to me taking a midnight swim over the side of our ship. I'm also sending out this blog so everyone will know I'm gonna be on board a floating death trap and if I disappear you can get in touch with the authorities.
Okay folks, just kidding. If my hubby wanted to get rid of me he'd put arsenic in my coffee, not try to shove me off a ship with thousands of potential witnesses. But just in case...I made sure we didn't get a room with a balcony. I mean why tempt fate, huh?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
HAIR TODAY, PROBABLY NOT GONE TOMORROW
For the past two days I have spent about an hour each day standing in a pile of hair. No, this isn't some kinky new turn-on I've discovered. It's simply that time of year when my dog leaves hairballs all over the house. Hair falls off him by the handful.
I hate seeing this hair all over, so the elimination process must begin. The excess hair doesn't bother my dog, but the removal of it does. I have to sneak the FURminator DeShedding Tool out of the closet and then try to coax the dog over to me. He always gets this look in his eyes and stands staring at me. "Why is she using the high pitched baby choocie coo voice? She must be going to do something I hate." He'll then tuck his tail between his legs and try to slink away. At which point I will grab him by his collar and drag him to the grooming area, as he sits and tries to make this process as difficult as possible.
I am always in awe of how much hair I remove from him. I think I could probably comb him every day and still get grocery bags full of hair. I'm a recycle type gal and hate to throw stuff away, so I'm considering storing the bags of hair in our garage over the summer. Then this fall I'll begin working on creating Christmas gifts for friends and family. Oh, oh, I can see people crossing my name off their Christmas gift exchange list already. HA, SWEET!
I hate seeing this hair all over, so the elimination process must begin. The excess hair doesn't bother my dog, but the removal of it does. I have to sneak the FURminator DeShedding Tool out of the closet and then try to coax the dog over to me. He always gets this look in his eyes and stands staring at me. "Why is she using the high pitched baby choocie coo voice? She must be going to do something I hate." He'll then tuck his tail between his legs and try to slink away. At which point I will grab him by his collar and drag him to the grooming area, as he sits and tries to make this process as difficult as possible.
I am always in awe of how much hair I remove from him. I think I could probably comb him every day and still get grocery bags full of hair. I'm a recycle type gal and hate to throw stuff away, so I'm considering storing the bags of hair in our garage over the summer. Then this fall I'll begin working on creating Christmas gifts for friends and family. Oh, oh, I can see people crossing my name off their Christmas gift exchange list already. HA, SWEET!
Monday, May 3, 2010
SHOWERS OF TESTOSTERONE
I love baby showers. I love the glow on the mother's face, the fun games, the laughter and the smiles and the "aaaahhhs" when the gifts are opened.
Sunday I attended a shower for the daughter-in-law of a friend. Seems like just yesterday I was attending baby showers for my friends and now so many of them are going to be grandparents. The circle of life.
This shower was different because the husbands were invited to attend. Women based events really take a twist when testosterone is thrown into the mix. Suddenly things that seemed so sweet and natural become fodder for jokes and laughs. Mostly male laughter, although the women did get a few giggles out of the raunchiness of the men. Nose syringes, gas medicine, anything related to nipples or breasts, hell...even nail clippers were the objects of amusements.
My husband summed it up very well, after the third fart joke, "this is why you DON'T invite men to a baby shower." Amen, brotha, Amen!
Sunday I attended a shower for the daughter-in-law of a friend. Seems like just yesterday I was attending baby showers for my friends and now so many of them are going to be grandparents. The circle of life.
This shower was different because the husbands were invited to attend. Women based events really take a twist when testosterone is thrown into the mix. Suddenly things that seemed so sweet and natural become fodder for jokes and laughs. Mostly male laughter, although the women did get a few giggles out of the raunchiness of the men. Nose syringes, gas medicine, anything related to nipples or breasts, hell...even nail clippers were the objects of amusements.
My husband summed it up very well, after the third fart joke, "this is why you DON'T invite men to a baby shower." Amen, brotha, Amen!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
We have an elephant living in our downstairs bathroom. I never actually see him, but I do hear him...every time we flush the toilet. I forget that he's there till I flush. A few seconds later I can hear his mournful moan fill the house.
We could get rid of the elephant. But it might mean replacing the inner workings of the toilet and I don't believe the elephant annoys my husband nearly as much as it does me. Maybe it's because I am home more and I get to hear it trumpeting five or six times a day. Maybe it's because I'm a woman and shit like this really bothers us.
I haven't asked him to kill the elephant. His brother silenced it for a brief while when he was visiting a couple of months ago. I guess I should have paid attention to what he did. Something about a hose and moving it and blah, blah, blah. I still say "toilet" issues should not be my project.
It's gonna be embarrassing when we have company over and they ask, "what the hell is that noise?". I intend to answer, "oh that's just our elephant in the bathroom, but the great white hunter in our family won't kill it." Husbands sometimes need motivation.
We could get rid of the elephant. But it might mean replacing the inner workings of the toilet and I don't believe the elephant annoys my husband nearly as much as it does me. Maybe it's because I am home more and I get to hear it trumpeting five or six times a day. Maybe it's because I'm a woman and shit like this really bothers us.
I haven't asked him to kill the elephant. His brother silenced it for a brief while when he was visiting a couple of months ago. I guess I should have paid attention to what he did. Something about a hose and moving it and blah, blah, blah. I still say "toilet" issues should not be my project.
It's gonna be embarrassing when we have company over and they ask, "what the hell is that noise?". I intend to answer, "oh that's just our elephant in the bathroom, but the great white hunter in our family won't kill it." Husbands sometimes need motivation.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
A 3-WAY
I bet a man invented the 3-way mirror. Oh yes, and the fluorescent lighting to go with it. No woman in her right mind would have done this to herself or her fellow female population.
I went bathing suit shopping yesterday. I dread bathing suit shopping and haven't gone in about ten years. However, my hubby and I are taking a small cruise in three weeks, so I thought maybe I should try finding a more current style. I'm certainly not looking to WOW them on board the ship...I just don't want people jumping overboard or worse yet...pointing and laughing.
I had two very dear friends go with me to keep me from slashing my wrists. I'm so glad I invited them along. They were invaluable when it came to suggestions and helping me choose the right color, style and fit. I settled on a Tankini, which I'd never even considered, but thanks to one of my friends I tried several on and actually found one that didn't make me look too awful. I'll get a full length cover-up and stay in the water most of the time and I should do fine that way.
I have a suggestion for stores selling bathing suits to the over 40 crowd. Smash those damn 3-way mirrors...we can only stand looking at one side at a time! Get rid of the unflattering fluorescent lights. We don't care if we look old, wrinkled and green in the office, but when we're trying on clothes, bras or bathing suits...we'd like to have rosy lighting and not glaring 5000 watt bulbs. If you really want to obtain our business...do what a friend of mine suggested and serve us cosmos while we shop. Who knows how much we'll spend if you get us drunk enough?
My new suit is still sitting in the bag I brought it home in. I'll try it on a few more times before we sail away...just to get semi-comfortable with the way I look in it. But you can bet your ass I won't be looking in anymore 3-way mirrors!
I went bathing suit shopping yesterday. I dread bathing suit shopping and haven't gone in about ten years. However, my hubby and I are taking a small cruise in three weeks, so I thought maybe I should try finding a more current style. I'm certainly not looking to WOW them on board the ship...I just don't want people jumping overboard or worse yet...pointing and laughing.
I had two very dear friends go with me to keep me from slashing my wrists. I'm so glad I invited them along. They were invaluable when it came to suggestions and helping me choose the right color, style and fit. I settled on a Tankini, which I'd never even considered, but thanks to one of my friends I tried several on and actually found one that didn't make me look too awful. I'll get a full length cover-up and stay in the water most of the time and I should do fine that way.
I have a suggestion for stores selling bathing suits to the over 40 crowd. Smash those damn 3-way mirrors...we can only stand looking at one side at a time! Get rid of the unflattering fluorescent lights. We don't care if we look old, wrinkled and green in the office, but when we're trying on clothes, bras or bathing suits...we'd like to have rosy lighting and not glaring 5000 watt bulbs. If you really want to obtain our business...do what a friend of mine suggested and serve us cosmos while we shop. Who knows how much we'll spend if you get us drunk enough?
My new suit is still sitting in the bag I brought it home in. I'll try it on a few more times before we sail away...just to get semi-comfortable with the way I look in it. But you can bet your ass I won't be looking in anymore 3-way mirrors!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
SLOWING DOWN
A week or so ago I ranted about the font sizes used for directions on food products, some magazine articles and books these days. Not that the font size has changed in the past 50+ years, but my eye sight sure has. I had another reminder of that last night.
After attending a meeting for The Triangle Freelancers I was driving home around 9:45 and felt as if I was "flying" down the road. I rounded a curve on Trawick Road, surprised that my tires didn't squeal, and there was a police officer sitting on the side of the road. My heart did a flip-flop, I experienced cold chills and I quickly looked down at my speedometer. I was shocked to see it read 42 mph. The speed limit was 45. WTH? I could have sworn I was going at least 60.
Driving in the dark. Yet another sign that you are aging is when you think you're going 90 and your only clocking 40 or 50. When I was in my 20's and even 30's the only time I felt I was "flying" down the road and actually wasn't was because I'd been smoking something funny. Now it happens cause I can't see very well, so I slow down, but don't feel like I've slowed down. I could see at least 200 yards in front of my car on a straight away 20 years ago and I could see a bird lose a feather a 100 yards away. Now, I'm lucky if I see the bird before it hits my windshield.
Not that I should be complaining about not moving so fast I get a ticket, but it was truly disturbing to recognize yet another sign of getting old. I guess I'll have to save all my automobile daredevil moves for the daytime, when I can see at least 25 feet in front of my car...if I squint.
After attending a meeting for The Triangle Freelancers I was driving home around 9:45 and felt as if I was "flying" down the road. I rounded a curve on Trawick Road, surprised that my tires didn't squeal, and there was a police officer sitting on the side of the road. My heart did a flip-flop, I experienced cold chills and I quickly looked down at my speedometer. I was shocked to see it read 42 mph. The speed limit was 45. WTH? I could have sworn I was going at least 60.
Driving in the dark. Yet another sign that you are aging is when you think you're going 90 and your only clocking 40 or 50. When I was in my 20's and even 30's the only time I felt I was "flying" down the road and actually wasn't was because I'd been smoking something funny. Now it happens cause I can't see very well, so I slow down, but don't feel like I've slowed down. I could see at least 200 yards in front of my car on a straight away 20 years ago and I could see a bird lose a feather a 100 yards away. Now, I'm lucky if I see the bird before it hits my windshield.
Not that I should be complaining about not moving so fast I get a ticket, but it was truly disturbing to recognize yet another sign of getting old. I guess I'll have to save all my automobile daredevil moves for the daytime, when I can see at least 25 feet in front of my car...if I squint.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
THE DEADLY BIG "C"
For years I participated in the Relay for Life walk/run. In Shelby, NC we'd all gather at the fairgrounds and camp out overnight. In the evening there would be a band to entertain us and various people would step up to the mic and share their cancer stories. Every year one or more of those people would say, "there's not one person here who hasn't been touched by cancer in some way, whether it's yourself or a family member." At this point I always felt like an outsider,a sham...because cancer HADN'T touched me or anyone close to me in anyway. I was there to support friends and friend of friends...but I personally didn't have a clue how truly devastating cancer could be to the victim and to their loved ones.
Then 2001 arrived. My stepfather was suddenly diagnosed with lung cancer and six months later he died. I was horrified at how quickly the disease destroyed and murdered. My stepdad was already in Stage 4 when they discovered the cancer, so he really didn't have a chance of survival.
After he passed I again entered into a safe little cocoon where cancer wasn't touching my life. But a part of me had changed. A part of me was now much more aware of the horrors of this disease. When acquaintances would speak about family members suffering I was able to empathize on a whole new level.
Now 2010 has arrived and I find myself once again faced with a family member's cancer diagnosis. This time it is one of my brothers. He had surgery yesterday for what was thought to be simple nodules on his lungs, but hiding behind one of those growths was the insidious cancer. Thank God he agreed to have this initial surgery or the cancer might not have been discovered till it was way too late. He was waivering on going under the knife, because it meant they had to remove the top half of his lung. When they discovered the cancer they removed several lymph-nodes too, in order to see if the cancer has spread.
So, for now I sit and wait on those results and pray that they got to him in time. I'm hating the fact that I've become an official member of the "cancer has touched my life club". I just pray at the next Relay for Life event I'll be able to rejoice because I have a family member who's a cancer SURVIVOR!
Then 2001 arrived. My stepfather was suddenly diagnosed with lung cancer and six months later he died. I was horrified at how quickly the disease destroyed and murdered. My stepdad was already in Stage 4 when they discovered the cancer, so he really didn't have a chance of survival.
After he passed I again entered into a safe little cocoon where cancer wasn't touching my life. But a part of me had changed. A part of me was now much more aware of the horrors of this disease. When acquaintances would speak about family members suffering I was able to empathize on a whole new level.
Now 2010 has arrived and I find myself once again faced with a family member's cancer diagnosis. This time it is one of my brothers. He had surgery yesterday for what was thought to be simple nodules on his lungs, but hiding behind one of those growths was the insidious cancer. Thank God he agreed to have this initial surgery or the cancer might not have been discovered till it was way too late. He was waivering on going under the knife, because it meant they had to remove the top half of his lung. When they discovered the cancer they removed several lymph-nodes too, in order to see if the cancer has spread.
So, for now I sit and wait on those results and pray that they got to him in time. I'm hating the fact that I've become an official member of the "cancer has touched my life club". I just pray at the next Relay for Life event I'll be able to rejoice because I have a family member who's a cancer SURVIVOR!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
RAIN...HIDE
I just got caught in a downpour coming out of Kroger. I've had all day to go to the grocery store, but thought I'd wait till the sky was filled with dark clouds and I could hear the roll of thunder in the distance.
My poor dog is still shaking, although the rain and the thunder has stopped and the sun is trying to shine again. Zeus is just terrified of storms. There doesn't even have to be thunder and lightning. He quivers at the sound of water pounding on the roof. Normally he'd be hiding under our bed digging at the carpeting trying to cover himself up, I guess...or maybe just make a hole to crawl into. I have the bedroom door closed so he can't get in there.
Sometimes when there's a really bad storm I will sit in the downstairs bathroom with him or we huddle together at the top of the steps. He's definitely not a lapdog, but when he hears any loud noises he tries to be!
He's frozen right now...literally, just standing in one spot, drooling and panting. I'm going to take him out to the porch to let him see that everything is well with the world again and he can stop dripping saliva on the floor.
Gotta love him!
My poor dog is still shaking, although the rain and the thunder has stopped and the sun is trying to shine again. Zeus is just terrified of storms. There doesn't even have to be thunder and lightning. He quivers at the sound of water pounding on the roof. Normally he'd be hiding under our bed digging at the carpeting trying to cover himself up, I guess...or maybe just make a hole to crawl into. I have the bedroom door closed so he can't get in there.
Sometimes when there's a really bad storm I will sit in the downstairs bathroom with him or we huddle together at the top of the steps. He's definitely not a lapdog, but when he hears any loud noises he tries to be!
He's frozen right now...literally, just standing in one spot, drooling and panting. I'm going to take him out to the porch to let him see that everything is well with the world again and he can stop dripping saliva on the floor.
Gotta love him!
Monday, April 19, 2010
MUSIC TO MY EARS
We could use an upgraded dishwasher. I don't want to get rid of the one we have though. It's noisy and the new ones tend to be "silent". I like knowing for sure that my dishwasher is running. I like the swish, swish sound of the water moving around. I even enjoy the noise it makes when it drains. Call me crazy, but I find comfort in a lot of different sounds.
I run a "white noise" machine at night. I always push the ocean waves button. My husband hates it, but I find it just the perfect symphony to block out background noises and lull me to sleep. When we go on vacation and stay in a hotel I need to run the air all night long or turn on the bathroom exhaust fan. Again...drives the hubby nuts. But it's better to spend time with a well rested wife, than a shrew with sleep deprived bags under her eyes.
The sound of a train whistle can calm my soul almost instantly. When I was a child I remember that sound traveling up the hillside and coming into my bedroom window. I loved it. I found it comforting and reassuring. I liked to dream about the people traveling on those trains and all the wonderful places they were going to.
A baby giggling, my dog's moan as he stretches himself, a cat purring, the roar of a motorcycle engine, the crunching of autumn leaves under my feet, church bells chiming...I enjoy all these sounds. Some inspire happy memories and some just make me feel alive.
I like smells too...but that's for another day.
I run a "white noise" machine at night. I always push the ocean waves button. My husband hates it, but I find it just the perfect symphony to block out background noises and lull me to sleep. When we go on vacation and stay in a hotel I need to run the air all night long or turn on the bathroom exhaust fan. Again...drives the hubby nuts. But it's better to spend time with a well rested wife, than a shrew with sleep deprived bags under her eyes.
The sound of a train whistle can calm my soul almost instantly. When I was a child I remember that sound traveling up the hillside and coming into my bedroom window. I loved it. I found it comforting and reassuring. I liked to dream about the people traveling on those trains and all the wonderful places they were going to.
A baby giggling, my dog's moan as he stretches himself, a cat purring, the roar of a motorcycle engine, the crunching of autumn leaves under my feet, church bells chiming...I enjoy all these sounds. Some inspire happy memories and some just make me feel alive.
I like smells too...but that's for another day.
Friday, April 16, 2010
MAKING FRIENDS WITH MOTHER NATURE
Oh my aching muscles! I planted trees, bushes and flowers for the first time yesterday and even my hair follicles are screaming in pain. But...I'm happy. Go figure. I've always heard how "satisfying" digging in the dirt can be. I've heard my foliage loving friends refer to it as "therapy". A lot of hogwash I thought, until I tried it for myself yesterday.
My friends Karen and Wendy decided my yard need some TLC and staged an intervention to be sure it got some. We spent all day Tuesday...and I do mean all day from 10-6, at various nurseries around town and out of town, looking for just the right plants to put in front of my house. The best deals and largest selection we found were in Angier, at Broadwell and Old Stage Nurseries. Acre upon acre of trees and bushes to choose from. Lowest prices around. However, you need to be gardening savvy, cause there is no one to give you any help or advice. You drive through, get what you want, load it up and pay on your way out. Luckily I had my two "Mother Nature Gurus" with me, so this was no problem.
For flowering plants we hit Kmart, Lowes and Home Depot. Looking at these made me wish I'd paid more attention in 7th grade Latin class. I couldn't begin to pronounce so many of the plant names that seemed to just roll off the tongues of my companions.
Thursday we started at 8a.m. with a little more shopping and then...dirt digging. I even used a pick-axe at one point. Me...swinging a pick axe...very scary picture to many of my friends I'm sure and one of the reasons for all the moans and groans this morning.
I have to admit, when I stepped outside my front door this morning and looked at all our completed handiwork, I sighed with contentment and suddenly...I wasn't so sore anymore.
My friends Karen and Wendy decided my yard need some TLC and staged an intervention to be sure it got some. We spent all day Tuesday...and I do mean all day from 10-6, at various nurseries around town and out of town, looking for just the right plants to put in front of my house. The best deals and largest selection we found were in Angier, at Broadwell and Old Stage Nurseries. Acre upon acre of trees and bushes to choose from. Lowest prices around. However, you need to be gardening savvy, cause there is no one to give you any help or advice. You drive through, get what you want, load it up and pay on your way out. Luckily I had my two "Mother Nature Gurus" with me, so this was no problem.
For flowering plants we hit Kmart, Lowes and Home Depot. Looking at these made me wish I'd paid more attention in 7th grade Latin class. I couldn't begin to pronounce so many of the plant names that seemed to just roll off the tongues of my companions.
Thursday we started at 8a.m. with a little more shopping and then...dirt digging. I even used a pick-axe at one point. Me...swinging a pick axe...very scary picture to many of my friends I'm sure and one of the reasons for all the moans and groans this morning.
I have to admit, when I stepped outside my front door this morning and looked at all our completed handiwork, I sighed with contentment and suddenly...I wasn't so sore anymore.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
ZONING LAW
My husband, while sitting at his computer this morning, told me he was "in the zone". What exactly does that mean? Inquiring minds want to know. So of course I had to look up the word "zone". Isn't that what any good wife would do in these circumstances.
Here's what I found. Zone is actually a pretty flexible word. It is used in these areas: Geographic, Geology, Geometry, Sports, Postal delivery or time. It's used to describe specific areas or districts and there is even an "archaic" definition.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is...the next time you tell someone you are "in the zone", be more specific. Exactly what type of zone are you talking about? Perhaps even "step out of your comfort zone" when deciding what "zone" you want to be in.
Have you zoned out yet?
Here's what I found. Zone is actually a pretty flexible word. It is used in these areas: Geographic, Geology, Geometry, Sports, Postal delivery or time. It's used to describe specific areas or districts and there is even an "archaic" definition.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is...the next time you tell someone you are "in the zone", be more specific. Exactly what type of zone are you talking about? Perhaps even "step out of your comfort zone" when deciding what "zone" you want to be in.
Have you zoned out yet?
Monday, April 12, 2010
READERS SUCK
"These are the strongest contact lenses we can order for you. You'll have to supplement with 'readers' when needed." REALLY? Really Mr. Optometrist? Are you actually telling me my eyeballs are so old you can't find a contact lens that I can enjoy 20/20 vision with anymore?"
I am now the proud owner of five pairs of "readers". I hate those little suckers! I store one pair in my nightstand drawer, one in my purse, one in the kitchen drawer, one in the drawer of the livingroom coffeetable and one in the glove department of my car.
I want to start a movement (and I hope you will join me). NO menus, newspapers, books, websites, directions on processed food boxes, magazines or contracts of any kind can be written in any font size less than 14 and 16 is even better! They can't be written on a colored background either! I don't care how 'pretty' you think the color pink or blue looks for your webpage background or how classy your think black makes your website look. For the over 40 crowd...you suck! I want bright lighting in restaurants! If you don't want to destroy your freakin' ambiance, then hand me a a small flashlight with my menu so I can read it. You can just leave that flashlight with me so I can see what you're serving me later.
Okay...whew I'm glad I got that out of my system. Now I'm going to go perch my lovely kitchen readers on the end of my nose and see if I can read the directions on the box of brownies I want to make. Sigh.........
I am now the proud owner of five pairs of "readers". I hate those little suckers! I store one pair in my nightstand drawer, one in my purse, one in the kitchen drawer, one in the drawer of the livingroom coffeetable and one in the glove department of my car.
I want to start a movement (and I hope you will join me). NO menus, newspapers, books, websites, directions on processed food boxes, magazines or contracts of any kind can be written in any font size less than 14 and 16 is even better! They can't be written on a colored background either! I don't care how 'pretty' you think the color pink or blue looks for your webpage background or how classy your think black makes your website look. For the over 40 crowd...you suck! I want bright lighting in restaurants! If you don't want to destroy your freakin' ambiance, then hand me a a small flashlight with my menu so I can read it. You can just leave that flashlight with me so I can see what you're serving me later.
Okay...whew I'm glad I got that out of my system. Now I'm going to go perch my lovely kitchen readers on the end of my nose and see if I can read the directions on the box of brownies I want to make. Sigh.........
Saturday, April 10, 2010
DETERMINATION
Will Shakespeare wrote a very short play entitled "Comedy of Errors" and I had a front row seat in my own production of this tale last night. I simply wanted to go celebrate the birthday of a friend. Sounds simple enough doesn't it? All I had to do was get in my car, drive to Wake Forest and let the partying begin.
Fate stepped in though and decided she'd have good laugh at my expense. I was running late and had just gotten on 540 when I noticed my gas tank was on "MT". I didn't want to push my luck so I got off at the next exit and pulled into the closest gas station. As I was standing there, with a smile on my face, pumping gas...I heard the lock in my car engage. WTH? Smile erased, I frantically tugged on the driver's door. I was locked out! My car betrayed me and locked me out. I could see the keys in the ignition, my purse sitting on the passenger seat (with my cell phone it) and my reflection in the window looking baffled and incredulous.
I headed into the convenience store and asked the clerk if I could borrow his phone. He was nice enough to hand it to me and I began the long frustrating task of trying to reach my husband to bring me his spare key. After several tries I finally reached him and he hurried to my location to let me in. WHEW...let the evening begin.
"Oh no you don't," said Mistress Fate as she laughed at me. I thought I knew exactly where we were meeting. Although I'd never been to the place before I had driven by it numerous times. However, I didn't know that they had recently torn the building recently and relocated the restaurant. Arrrggghhhh...GPS was telling me the new destination was 21 miles away, I couldn't reach my friend on her cell, but I was determined I was going to meet up with my friends. Fate be damned! So I started following the GPS directions and called my friend a couple of more times. Third time was the charm...she picked up. I was headed in the wrong direction. Thank God she was able to give me directions to get me to the festivities. They had a glass of wine waiting at the table for me when I arrived. Nothing ever tasted so good! So despite Mistress Fate's best efforts...I had the last laugh and a good time celebrating with my friends.
Fate stepped in though and decided she'd have good laugh at my expense. I was running late and had just gotten on 540 when I noticed my gas tank was on "MT". I didn't want to push my luck so I got off at the next exit and pulled into the closest gas station. As I was standing there, with a smile on my face, pumping gas...I heard the lock in my car engage. WTH? Smile erased, I frantically tugged on the driver's door. I was locked out! My car betrayed me and locked me out. I could see the keys in the ignition, my purse sitting on the passenger seat (with my cell phone it) and my reflection in the window looking baffled and incredulous.
I headed into the convenience store and asked the clerk if I could borrow his phone. He was nice enough to hand it to me and I began the long frustrating task of trying to reach my husband to bring me his spare key. After several tries I finally reached him and he hurried to my location to let me in. WHEW...let the evening begin.
"Oh no you don't," said Mistress Fate as she laughed at me. I thought I knew exactly where we were meeting. Although I'd never been to the place before I had driven by it numerous times. However, I didn't know that they had recently torn the building recently and relocated the restaurant. Arrrggghhhh...GPS was telling me the new destination was 21 miles away, I couldn't reach my friend on her cell, but I was determined I was going to meet up with my friends. Fate be damned! So I started following the GPS directions and called my friend a couple of more times. Third time was the charm...she picked up. I was headed in the wrong direction. Thank God she was able to give me directions to get me to the festivities. They had a glass of wine waiting at the table for me when I arrived. Nothing ever tasted so good! So despite Mistress Fate's best efforts...I had the last laugh and a good time celebrating with my friends.
Friday, April 9, 2010
NEVER ENDING CLEANING DETAIL
I didn't want to let go of my soft, fluffy, comfy pillow this morning. I'm glad I've taken on the duty of letting my daughter's dog out every morning or I probably would still be laying in bed. Just that act of getting up and standing on the back porch while Dolce "takes care of business" each morning is enough to at least turn my engine over. I may not be going full speed, but I'm not laying under the covers, accomplishing nothing either.
I have to clean house today. I HATE that job. It stays clean for a couple of hours when you're done and then it becomes dirty again just to spite you. It's an endless rotation of dusting, scrubbing, vacuuming...okay...I'm depressing myself. If I'm not careful I may end up back in bed clutching that squishy pillow again.
So enough talk. I'm off to grab my arsenal of cleaning products, broom, mop and duster and get busy. Unless someone out there wants to talk me out of it............
I have to clean house today. I HATE that job. It stays clean for a couple of hours when you're done and then it becomes dirty again just to spite you. It's an endless rotation of dusting, scrubbing, vacuuming...okay...I'm depressing myself. If I'm not careful I may end up back in bed clutching that squishy pillow again.
So enough talk. I'm off to grab my arsenal of cleaning products, broom, mop and duster and get busy. Unless someone out there wants to talk me out of it............
Thursday, April 8, 2010
MANI ANYONE?
I was bad today. I said, "screw the budget" and got a pedicure. Since being laid-off I've been doing my own mani/pedis, but it's just not the same. Do my nails look good afterwards...sure, but my back aches from leaning over to get to my tootsies and there's all that setting up the foot bath, polish, trimming tools and towels. There's no lovely leg and foot massage either. Not as relaxing when I'm rubbing my own calves. Nope doesn't do a thing for me.
So today I decided, because I've been feeling down lately, that I needed a little pick-me-up, so I splurged on a pedicure. That hour was like heaven! I always thought I'd hate getting pedis cause I don't really like people "playing" with my feet. One time trying it was all it took to get me totally hooked. These manicurist aren't playing with my feet. They are serious about getting my little piggies looking the best they possibly can and I could honestly fall asleep during the whole process.
I thought I'd feel guilty about this little indulgence, but I don't. Not in the least. I wish all our problems in life could be solved with a nice coat of nailpolish and a quick massage!
So today I decided, because I've been feeling down lately, that I needed a little pick-me-up, so I splurged on a pedicure. That hour was like heaven! I always thought I'd hate getting pedis cause I don't really like people "playing" with my feet. One time trying it was all it took to get me totally hooked. These manicurist aren't playing with my feet. They are serious about getting my little piggies looking the best they possibly can and I could honestly fall asleep during the whole process.
I thought I'd feel guilty about this little indulgence, but I don't. Not in the least. I wish all our problems in life could be solved with a nice coat of nailpolish and a quick massage!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
SCOOTER GUY
I try to find something every day that gives me a good laugh. Without laughter...your soul dies.
Yesterday, I was heading to Six Strings Cafe in Cary to listen to a friend of mine, Mathew Conklin, sing at their open mic nite. I wanted to be there at 7:00, but got a late start and knew I wasn't going arrive when I wanted to. This can make me a little tense at times...okay, okay it can make me rabid! As I was sitting at the red light at the entrance to my subdivision, hands gripping the wheel, already cursing anyone who was going to slow me down...I glanced to my left to see if could 'turn right on red' and here comes a guy on a scooter, going about 35mph...putzing along through the lite. He looked to be about 40+, but the huge motorcycle helmet on his head hid most of his face. He wore khakis and a lite weight argyle sweater in various shades of blue.
At first he really annoyed me. I mean I was in a hurry and here he was just barely moving along. When he finally passed me I whipped around the corner onto New Hope Road and glanced over to give scooter guy a dirty look. As I turned to look at him, he was staring down at his watch and slowly shaking his head. I ROARED with laughter. Here's this guy, obviously trying to be somewhere at a certain time (as I am) and he is riding a 35mph maximum speed scooter and looking at his watch like that will enable him to go faster. I couldn't stop laughing.
Sometimes we can hurry so much that we miss the joyful things in life. I giggled till I got to Capital Blvd after seeing that site. I arrived at my destination, relaxed, happy and in a good mood. I had a lovely evening, Matt sounded great and all was good with the world. Thanks scooter guy...you're my hero!
Yesterday, I was heading to Six Strings Cafe in Cary to listen to a friend of mine, Mathew Conklin, sing at their open mic nite. I wanted to be there at 7:00, but got a late start and knew I wasn't going arrive when I wanted to. This can make me a little tense at times...okay, okay it can make me rabid! As I was sitting at the red light at the entrance to my subdivision, hands gripping the wheel, already cursing anyone who was going to slow me down...I glanced to my left to see if could 'turn right on red' and here comes a guy on a scooter, going about 35mph...putzing along through the lite. He looked to be about 40+, but the huge motorcycle helmet on his head hid most of his face. He wore khakis and a lite weight argyle sweater in various shades of blue.
At first he really annoyed me. I mean I was in a hurry and here he was just barely moving along. When he finally passed me I whipped around the corner onto New Hope Road and glanced over to give scooter guy a dirty look. As I turned to look at him, he was staring down at his watch and slowly shaking his head. I ROARED with laughter. Here's this guy, obviously trying to be somewhere at a certain time (as I am) and he is riding a 35mph maximum speed scooter and looking at his watch like that will enable him to go faster. I couldn't stop laughing.
Sometimes we can hurry so much that we miss the joyful things in life. I giggled till I got to Capital Blvd after seeing that site. I arrived at my destination, relaxed, happy and in a good mood. I had a lovely evening, Matt sounded great and all was good with the world. Thanks scooter guy...you're my hero!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
IN MY OPINION
I participated in a focus group last night. I was amazed at the different people they managed to gather together. All ages, nationalities, sizes and shapes,from all walks of life.
We sat at a large conference table and gave our opinions on different forms of media, the company who hired us was considering. A lot of really good suggestions and comments were made. There were twelve of us. Eleven of us spoke. The man sitting to my left never opened his mouth. He sat staring at the table the entire hour we were there, except for the three minutes we all watched a video presentation. Heck, he might have been staring at the table even then. I had my back turned to him, so who knows. Anyway...he'll collect his fee just like all the rest of us.
There was no camaraderie with this group. I did a pizza taste test a few months ago and we all had a good time before the actual testing began, talking and jabbering together. The group last night barely made eye contact. When I arrived there were eight people already seated. I did a quick scan of the table and smiled at each person. Only one smiled back. Sigh...we're so comfortable in our own little shells aren't we?
Anyway, this was a simple, fun way to make a little extra cash and I look forward to being asked to participate in another one. Maybe I'll just sit there, not say anything and collect my fee. NAH...I've got too big a mouth for that!
We sat at a large conference table and gave our opinions on different forms of media, the company who hired us was considering. A lot of really good suggestions and comments were made. There were twelve of us. Eleven of us spoke. The man sitting to my left never opened his mouth. He sat staring at the table the entire hour we were there, except for the three minutes we all watched a video presentation. Heck, he might have been staring at the table even then. I had my back turned to him, so who knows. Anyway...he'll collect his fee just like all the rest of us.
There was no camaraderie with this group. I did a pizza taste test a few months ago and we all had a good time before the actual testing began, talking and jabbering together. The group last night barely made eye contact. When I arrived there were eight people already seated. I did a quick scan of the table and smiled at each person. Only one smiled back. Sigh...we're so comfortable in our own little shells aren't we?
Anyway, this was a simple, fun way to make a little extra cash and I look forward to being asked to participate in another one. Maybe I'll just sit there, not say anything and collect my fee. NAH...I've got too big a mouth for that!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
A MOTHER'S PRIDE
"The acorn doesn't fall far from the tree". Silly quote, but I can finally relate to it. I'm proud to say I finally discovered a quality that my daughter inherited from me. Up until now she's seemed to exhibit only her father's genes, but this past week I saw a little bit of me shining through. She's creative!
A dance club, where she's been working on weekends for some extra cash, had an Alice in Wonderland celebration last night. My daughter did all the decorating for the event. She made baskets of flowers with playing cards scattered throughout, roses painted partially red which she stuck in artificial trees, small bottles filled with food colored water and marked "drink me", even a table with a tea set and teapot were displayed. She came up with all these ideas on her own and I was just bursting with pride.
One of my favorite activities is planning events. I've staged some pretty elaborate parties over the years and I miss putting these kind of celebrations together. It was fun to watch my daughter get just as excited about her creations as I used to get about mine.
I'm passing the torch! We've got a mini family reunion coming up soon and I can't wait to see what sort of ideas she'll come up with to help make it a huge success! Out with the old and in with the new!
A dance club, where she's been working on weekends for some extra cash, had an Alice in Wonderland celebration last night. My daughter did all the decorating for the event. She made baskets of flowers with playing cards scattered throughout, roses painted partially red which she stuck in artificial trees, small bottles filled with food colored water and marked "drink me", even a table with a tea set and teapot were displayed. She came up with all these ideas on her own and I was just bursting with pride.
One of my favorite activities is planning events. I've staged some pretty elaborate parties over the years and I miss putting these kind of celebrations together. It was fun to watch my daughter get just as excited about her creations as I used to get about mine.
I'm passing the torch! We've got a mini family reunion coming up soon and I can't wait to see what sort of ideas she'll come up with to help make it a huge success! Out with the old and in with the new!
Friday, April 2, 2010
WINTER'S OUT, SUMMER'S IN
I packed away all my winter clothes yesterday. I hate switching out seasonal clothing. I always feel the necessity to throw stuff out. I mean really...did I ever wear that ugly brown sweater with the horses all over it. Well, maybe once, but it is definitely ugly and I should put it in the Goodwill bag, but what if it's not ugly next winter? What if next winter, poop colored brown sweaters with horses charging across the front of them is all the rage? It could be you know. Not likely, but hey, why take a chance? I put it in the bin with the two tone green sweater that makes my complexion look ghoulish and the baby pink heavy knit one that belongs in Chicago weather and the yellowish brown one with leather buttons which quite frankly is rather manly. I just can't seem to let clothes go. I'll deal with them next winter.
I opened the summer buckets and began unloading all the short sleeve and sleeveless tops (need to lift heavier weights to firm up those underarm wings), the capris (time to start applying the sunless tanning lotion to my bone white legs), skirts, dresses...and things I didn't even know I owned! I put the shorts in a drawer (like I'll ever wear those with the cellulite explosion on my thighs). The bathing suits made me cringe. I was glad to find my full length cover-ups. Everything is either hung in the closet or neatly folded in drawers. I still need to switch out winter shoes for summer sandals. That's really the only part of this process I enjoy. I LOVE my sandals! My feet are probably my best feature right now, so I want to be sure to show them off!
I love summer. I love the smell of meat sizzling on the bbq, birds chirping, kids laughing, the warmth of the sun on my skin and the scent of blossoming flowers. I'm not too crazy about summer clothing anymore though. Winter clothes make me look so much better. Thank God, the style right now is loose and flowy. I can do loose and flowy!
Off to the store to stock up on sunscreen and sunless tanning lotion. Maybe I'll treat myself to a nice spray tan when I get up the nerve to actually don some of the summery stuff I've got in my wardrobe now. Sigh...I remember my 30's with such longing this time of year.
I opened the summer buckets and began unloading all the short sleeve and sleeveless tops (need to lift heavier weights to firm up those underarm wings), the capris (time to start applying the sunless tanning lotion to my bone white legs), skirts, dresses...and things I didn't even know I owned! I put the shorts in a drawer (like I'll ever wear those with the cellulite explosion on my thighs). The bathing suits made me cringe. I was glad to find my full length cover-ups. Everything is either hung in the closet or neatly folded in drawers. I still need to switch out winter shoes for summer sandals. That's really the only part of this process I enjoy. I LOVE my sandals! My feet are probably my best feature right now, so I want to be sure to show them off!
I love summer. I love the smell of meat sizzling on the bbq, birds chirping, kids laughing, the warmth of the sun on my skin and the scent of blossoming flowers. I'm not too crazy about summer clothing anymore though. Winter clothes make me look so much better. Thank God, the style right now is loose and flowy. I can do loose and flowy!
Off to the store to stock up on sunscreen and sunless tanning lotion. Maybe I'll treat myself to a nice spray tan when I get up the nerve to actually don some of the summery stuff I've got in my wardrobe now. Sigh...I remember my 30's with such longing this time of year.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
I WANT IT MY WAY
I can really be a pain-in-the-ass when I go out to eat. I've seen waiters and waitresses, I've had in the past, slip a ten or twenty to the hostess, when they see me arrive, so I won't be seated in their area.
I'm Sally, from When Harry Met Sally..."on the side please". I'm Burger King, "have it my way". I just want, what I want and how I want it. After all if I'm paying for it shouldn't it be something I'll enjoy? Don't get me wrong. I'm not uppity or sticking it to the wait staff just for laughs. I'm always polite. Hell, I even smile, but I still want things served in certain ways.
It always starts with my drink. I like LOTS of ice. And when I mean LOTS of ice, I mean like an ice cap or massive glacier formed in my glass. I always want lemon too. When my drink arrives...that's the first clue on whether this waiter or waitress is going to get a good tip.
Salad dressings should always be 'on the side', hot foods--hot and cold foods--cold. If I order meat well-done, then I don't want to see a hint of pink. If I want wilted salad, I'll eat at home with greens from a plastic bag. Hold the sauce, go light on the sauce, sauce on the side...I'm never sure which way I'll go, but I like the server to be able to keep up.
I don't believe a tip is a given. I always tip according to service. The nice thing is for all the waiters and waitresses out there who might stumble across this blog...if you are polite, smile and are even fun...then you can screw up my order over and over and I will still be leaving you a good tip. If you are rude, grouchy, sullen or a drag, then even serving everything perfect won't get ya a decent tip.
I'm going out to lunch today. Maybe I should take a copy of this blog along with me. NAH, let's just play waiter roulette and see what happens!
I'm Sally, from When Harry Met Sally..."on the side please". I'm Burger King, "have it my way". I just want, what I want and how I want it. After all if I'm paying for it shouldn't it be something I'll enjoy? Don't get me wrong. I'm not uppity or sticking it to the wait staff just for laughs. I'm always polite. Hell, I even smile, but I still want things served in certain ways.
It always starts with my drink. I like LOTS of ice. And when I mean LOTS of ice, I mean like an ice cap or massive glacier formed in my glass. I always want lemon too. When my drink arrives...that's the first clue on whether this waiter or waitress is going to get a good tip.
Salad dressings should always be 'on the side', hot foods--hot and cold foods--cold. If I order meat well-done, then I don't want to see a hint of pink. If I want wilted salad, I'll eat at home with greens from a plastic bag. Hold the sauce, go light on the sauce, sauce on the side...I'm never sure which way I'll go, but I like the server to be able to keep up.
I don't believe a tip is a given. I always tip according to service. The nice thing is for all the waiters and waitresses out there who might stumble across this blog...if you are polite, smile and are even fun...then you can screw up my order over and over and I will still be leaving you a good tip. If you are rude, grouchy, sullen or a drag, then even serving everything perfect won't get ya a decent tip.
I'm going out to lunch today. Maybe I should take a copy of this blog along with me. NAH, let's just play waiter roulette and see what happens!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
HURRY UP
Just when I think my Northern blood has been totally "Southernized"...I run into some sort of snafu. Yesterday I went to the grocery store. I wanted seven simple items. I figured "I'm in, I'm out". Yeah...not in the South.
I got on the line of a talker. Or as we say in New York...a tawker. I'm not talking about the customer. I'm talking about the cashier. She was learning all about why she shouldn't be hiding "real" eggs for her kids to hunt, but should be buying the plastic ones to hide. REALLY...really? You're gonna hold up a line of four people so you can get a salmonella lesson?
When I first moved South of the Mason Dixon line, about twenty years ago, one of the first places I had to visit was a grocery store to stock our new digs. I was so frustrated with how slow the line moved through the check-outs. The cashier was all friendly, with smiles and comments on customer's purchases. COME ON!! I just want the New York...bada bing, bada boom...I'm outta here. Over the years though I've learned to appreciate the slow Southern style a bit more and I thought I was over my hurry, hurry ways.
Not so yesterday. Ms. Talker not only yakked too much, she screwed up the customer's total (and of course the customer was writing a check) and had to have her rewrite check. She offered to give her change for the difference, but the difference was $26.00 and they were only allowed to give out $25 in cash...yada, yada, yada. Suffice it to say...I was ready to scream by the time I finally got my items rung up and out to my car.
I talked to myself all the way home about it. So any of you drivers who might have seen a crazy lady on New Hope Road around 3:00 yesterday talking to herself...YEAH, that was ME and I had issues I need to deal with!
Today I've been singing the song "slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the morning last.........." I'm about to go out to eat. I wonder if my waiter will be a talker? "slow down, you move too fast.....", keep singing Debe, keep singing.
I got on the line of a talker. Or as we say in New York...a tawker. I'm not talking about the customer. I'm talking about the cashier. She was learning all about why she shouldn't be hiding "real" eggs for her kids to hunt, but should be buying the plastic ones to hide. REALLY...really? You're gonna hold up a line of four people so you can get a salmonella lesson?
When I first moved South of the Mason Dixon line, about twenty years ago, one of the first places I had to visit was a grocery store to stock our new digs. I was so frustrated with how slow the line moved through the check-outs. The cashier was all friendly, with smiles and comments on customer's purchases. COME ON!! I just want the New York...bada bing, bada boom...I'm outta here. Over the years though I've learned to appreciate the slow Southern style a bit more and I thought I was over my hurry, hurry ways.
Not so yesterday. Ms. Talker not only yakked too much, she screwed up the customer's total (and of course the customer was writing a check) and had to have her rewrite check. She offered to give her change for the difference, but the difference was $26.00 and they were only allowed to give out $25 in cash...yada, yada, yada. Suffice it to say...I was ready to scream by the time I finally got my items rung up and out to my car.
I talked to myself all the way home about it. So any of you drivers who might have seen a crazy lady on New Hope Road around 3:00 yesterday talking to herself...YEAH, that was ME and I had issues I need to deal with!
Today I've been singing the song "slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the morning last.........." I'm about to go out to eat. I wonder if my waiter will be a talker? "slow down, you move too fast.....", keep singing Debe, keep singing.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
YUM, SMELL THAT CUP 'O JOE
Anyone who truly loves coffee needs to stay away from the brew I produce. I actually had a dream about my coffee last night. In my dream I was hostessing a party at our house (pretty normal stuff). I walked into my kitchen and two people were standing there, coffee cups filled and getting ready to drink. I grabbed the cups and said, "Oh no, you can't drink that...it's way too weak!"
I like my coffee see-through. I love the taste of the creamer and the two teaspoons of sugar I add, but I just want the water "coffee flavored". I've been teased mercilessly by my coffee connoisseur friends, but I don't really care. It's how I like it. If I go to someone's house and they offer me coffee...I have to pour half or even a quarter of a cup and then add water, microwave, then add my cream and sugar. Most true coffee admirers look on in horror at this process, so I usually just say "no thanks" and simply enjoy the wonderful aroma the coffee produces.
I love tea, but there is nothing like the smell of coffee in the morning to wake me up and get me feeling perky. I don't think there's any law that says the coffee has to be pitch black or has to be consumed without any additional flavorings. Is there? Speaking of flavors...I also love flavored coffees. If it's not flavored, then adding some vanilla or hazelnut creamer makes me a happy camper.
I make two pots of coffee when I'm entertaining. One is a 12-cup pot which I make as dark as possible and the other is a 3-cup...just for wimpy ole coffee drinker me or any of my other friends who might simply enjoy the "idea" of coffee. Not that I've found any friends like that yet...but I'm lookin'. Any takers?
I like my coffee see-through. I love the taste of the creamer and the two teaspoons of sugar I add, but I just want the water "coffee flavored". I've been teased mercilessly by my coffee connoisseur friends, but I don't really care. It's how I like it. If I go to someone's house and they offer me coffee...I have to pour half or even a quarter of a cup and then add water, microwave, then add my cream and sugar. Most true coffee admirers look on in horror at this process, so I usually just say "no thanks" and simply enjoy the wonderful aroma the coffee produces.
I love tea, but there is nothing like the smell of coffee in the morning to wake me up and get me feeling perky. I don't think there's any law that says the coffee has to be pitch black or has to be consumed without any additional flavorings. Is there? Speaking of flavors...I also love flavored coffees. If it's not flavored, then adding some vanilla or hazelnut creamer makes me a happy camper.
I make two pots of coffee when I'm entertaining. One is a 12-cup pot which I make as dark as possible and the other is a 3-cup...just for wimpy ole coffee drinker me or any of my other friends who might simply enjoy the "idea" of coffee. Not that I've found any friends like that yet...but I'm lookin'. Any takers?
Monday, March 29, 2010
CRASH, BANG, BOOM..........
I'm not a big fan of thunderstorms. Maybe this is one of the reasons it's difficult for me to write Gothic romances. I can't imagine my heroine waiting for her prince charming, standing on the moors with the wind whipping around her, lightning blazing in the sky, thunder rumbling as she gets drenched in cold soaking rain. (see how that little scenario just went downhill) Not a fan! Not a fan at all.
Last night we had a doozie of a storm pass through. My hubby is out of town again, so I didn't even have him to cuddle up to. As I lay there quivering, heart pounding in my chest after the first huge BANG shook the house, I wanted the dog to crawl up on the bed with me. I thought at least I could hold onto him. He had his own problems though. He also hates storms and he was under my bed, trying to dig a hole through the floor to hide in.
His antics did take my mind off the noise outside my window. I was too busy yelling at him to stop digging at the carpeting and banging on the side of the bed in hopes of scaring him into coming out, to pay too much attention to all the racket outside. I finally had to resort to getting out from under the covers, including the one covering my head...lift the bedskirt and try to coax him out. It didn't work. He just stared at me, wide eyed and shivering.
I finally gave up on the dog, crawled back under my covers, grabbed my hubby's pillow, threw the sheets up over my head and wrapped my arms around the pillow. Not exactly the stuff that Desire romance novels are made of, but at least it made me feel a little better. The dog just kept digging till everything finally quieted down.
Last night we had a doozie of a storm pass through. My hubby is out of town again, so I didn't even have him to cuddle up to. As I lay there quivering, heart pounding in my chest after the first huge BANG shook the house, I wanted the dog to crawl up on the bed with me. I thought at least I could hold onto him. He had his own problems though. He also hates storms and he was under my bed, trying to dig a hole through the floor to hide in.
His antics did take my mind off the noise outside my window. I was too busy yelling at him to stop digging at the carpeting and banging on the side of the bed in hopes of scaring him into coming out, to pay too much attention to all the racket outside. I finally had to resort to getting out from under the covers, including the one covering my head...lift the bedskirt and try to coax him out. It didn't work. He just stared at me, wide eyed and shivering.
I finally gave up on the dog, crawled back under my covers, grabbed my hubby's pillow, threw the sheets up over my head and wrapped my arms around the pillow. Not exactly the stuff that Desire romance novels are made of, but at least it made me feel a little better. The dog just kept digging till everything finally quieted down.
Friday, March 26, 2010
WORRY WORT
I worry too much. As I get older I worry far more than I did when I was just a pup. I don't know if it's because I've lived life long enough now to know about how things can get totally f*ed up...or if my brain has just become packed with so much crap through the years that I can't stop over processing everything.
I can't remember a day in the last few years that I haven't found something to be concerned about. Of course everything my daughter does terrifies me. My son I barely hear from and maybe that's good cause I'm sure I'd find something disturbing in his world too. I worry about my husband, I worry about my dog, I worry about my daughter's dog, I worry about our finances, I worry about the moles digging holes in our backyard, I worry about not being able to find just the right shoes to go with the beautiful torquoise dress I've recently purchased, I worry the "said dress" was way to expensive. I worry!
When I was in my twenties and even my thirties I didn't worry. I had far less money, a very insecure home life, a husband who never seemed to know where he wanted to work or live and two children to be concerned about...but I didn't worry. I took life in stride. I enjoyed it. I laughed in the face of danger. I was always willing to try something new. Hell, I even picked my son and daughter's pacifier up off floors, licked them off and put them back in their in their mouths. I was fearless, living on the edge!
Worrying started around the time I turned 40. I suddenly comprehended what a dangerous, scary world we live in and I became uptight and all hot and bothered over every little thing. It may have had something to do with heading toward a divorce or it could have been as simple as riding the roller coaster at Carowinds Amusement Park. I'm not sure what triggered it. I just know once the gun was cocked...there was no turning back.
I made a promise to myself this January. I'm going to try something new every month. Step out of my comfort zone and try something I've never done before. I find this terrifying, but I am determined. I mean what's the worst that can happen? Oh, oh now I've got myself worrying again...about trying to overcome my worrying.
I can't remember a day in the last few years that I haven't found something to be concerned about. Of course everything my daughter does terrifies me. My son I barely hear from and maybe that's good cause I'm sure I'd find something disturbing in his world too. I worry about my husband, I worry about my dog, I worry about my daughter's dog, I worry about our finances, I worry about the moles digging holes in our backyard, I worry about not being able to find just the right shoes to go with the beautiful torquoise dress I've recently purchased, I worry the "said dress" was way to expensive. I worry!
When I was in my twenties and even my thirties I didn't worry. I had far less money, a very insecure home life, a husband who never seemed to know where he wanted to work or live and two children to be concerned about...but I didn't worry. I took life in stride. I enjoyed it. I laughed in the face of danger. I was always willing to try something new. Hell, I even picked my son and daughter's pacifier up off floors, licked them off and put them back in their in their mouths. I was fearless, living on the edge!
Worrying started around the time I turned 40. I suddenly comprehended what a dangerous, scary world we live in and I became uptight and all hot and bothered over every little thing. It may have had something to do with heading toward a divorce or it could have been as simple as riding the roller coaster at Carowinds Amusement Park. I'm not sure what triggered it. I just know once the gun was cocked...there was no turning back.
I made a promise to myself this January. I'm going to try something new every month. Step out of my comfort zone and try something I've never done before. I find this terrifying, but I am determined. I mean what's the worst that can happen? Oh, oh now I've got myself worrying again...about trying to overcome my worrying.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
GET A BUCKET AND BAIL YOUR OWN BOAT
Do you have a Facebook account? If you do...you know how there will be ads on the right hand side of your page when you open it? Well one of those ads today kinda got me revved up and I don't mean in good way. I'm a wee bit up tight today as it is, but this just got me fuming.
There's a picture of a pair of bare feet. On the pair of bare feet are a pair of makeshift sandals made from two liter soda bottles. The bottles have been flattened, a hole punched in the end where the top would attach and two more holes on either side. Into these holes the wearer has knotted scrap pieces of cloth, forming a sort of "flip style" shoe. Under the picture of this pair of innovative sandals is a caption which reads: New Government Regulation, US Residents under $65,000K option to remove 1/2 of debt ($10,000 in debt to qualify)
So what burned me up about this ad? Where do I begin? First...that picture is of a pair of feet from Haiti. I actually saw it on the news and posted in a magazine, to show how things are so bad there, they are making two liter footwear. In America these sort of sandals would be considered unique, avant-garde and could actually become a popular trend. In Haiti, they are a necessity to many of the population. Using this picture and pretending this is an American is just wrong on so many levels.
The amount...$65,000 a year is ridiculous! If you make $65,000 a year...unless you're the freakin' octomom, with 14 mouths to feed...you should certainly be able to pay your bills. If you make $65,000 a year and you can't pay your bills cause you're so far in debt it's impossible, then you should be ashamed of yourself for putting yourself into that situation and you don't deserve a "bail-out". There are families of 4+ making a lot less than that and still managing to NOT go into debt, so far over their heads, they can't make their payments.
Everyone wants an easy way out these days. Too bad. These are tough, tough times we are living in. Some more difficult than for others, but suck it up people. It is obscene to think anyone with an income of that kind would not be able to pay off $10,000 in debt and they CERTAINLY wouldn't be wearing pop bottles on their feet...unless of course Dolce&Gabana or Prada was selling them.
I'm just saying.................
There's a picture of a pair of bare feet. On the pair of bare feet are a pair of makeshift sandals made from two liter soda bottles. The bottles have been flattened, a hole punched in the end where the top would attach and two more holes on either side. Into these holes the wearer has knotted scrap pieces of cloth, forming a sort of "flip style" shoe. Under the picture of this pair of innovative sandals is a caption which reads: New Government Regulation, US Residents under $65,000K option to remove 1/2 of debt ($10,000 in debt to qualify)
So what burned me up about this ad? Where do I begin? First...that picture is of a pair of feet from Haiti. I actually saw it on the news and posted in a magazine, to show how things are so bad there, they are making two liter footwear. In America these sort of sandals would be considered unique, avant-garde and could actually become a popular trend. In Haiti, they are a necessity to many of the population. Using this picture and pretending this is an American is just wrong on so many levels.
The amount...$65,000 a year is ridiculous! If you make $65,000 a year...unless you're the freakin' octomom, with 14 mouths to feed...you should certainly be able to pay your bills. If you make $65,000 a year and you can't pay your bills cause you're so far in debt it's impossible, then you should be ashamed of yourself for putting yourself into that situation and you don't deserve a "bail-out". There are families of 4+ making a lot less than that and still managing to NOT go into debt, so far over their heads, they can't make their payments.
Everyone wants an easy way out these days. Too bad. These are tough, tough times we are living in. Some more difficult than for others, but suck it up people. It is obscene to think anyone with an income of that kind would not be able to pay off $10,000 in debt and they CERTAINLY wouldn't be wearing pop bottles on their feet...unless of course Dolce&Gabana or Prada was selling them.
I'm just saying.................
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
BACK TO SCHOOL
As some of you know I've been on unemployment for awhile. I received a notice in the mail, about a month ago, from the Employment Security Commission, telling me I could sign up for school if I wanted to. I finally decided today to go check out my options.
Although I have a degree in Communications, it doesn't seem to be helping me much right now and I thought it might be fun to study something else. I went to Wake Tech's North campus to see what courses they had available. I couldn't find the enrollment office, but did find the Continuing Education office. When I went in the girl behind the desk had a big smile on her face.
"How can I help you?" she said.
"I'm interested in finding out what educational programs you have." I said.
"Grab a brochure." she said.
"No, I want the curriculum programs. Where is the enrollment office?" I said.
The smile disappeared. She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "You want the curriculum programs?" she asked.
It was then I had an epiphany. Holy crap, I've gotten old!! When did that happen? I pasted a tense smile on my face and said, "I know I'm old, but I'd like to go back to school and get another degree."
"No, no...you're not old," she said, but her eyes told me I was. "The enrollment office is in the next building."
I scurried off, trying not to notice all the young faces surrounding me in the hallway, and headed into the next building. I found the enrollment desk. There were two twenty-somethings ahead of me and I waited patiently. When they left the girl behind the desk smiled at me and said, "Yes? How can I help you."
"I wondered if you had a brochures of the classes you offer?" I said.
"You mean the Continuing Education classes?" she said.
"No I mean the Curriculum courses. I want to go back to get a degree." I said.
The smile disappeared.
"All the classes are listed on-line. We don't print handbooks anymore." she said.
"Ugh, okay thanks." I mumbled and slinked off realizing I hadn't needed to publicly humiliate myself.
Do I really want to go back to school? I don't know for sure, but I do know I didn't want to feel "old" today and unfortunately I did. How did that 90 year old woman who just graduated college stand it? Maybe I'll give her a call...........
Although I have a degree in Communications, it doesn't seem to be helping me much right now and I thought it might be fun to study something else. I went to Wake Tech's North campus to see what courses they had available. I couldn't find the enrollment office, but did find the Continuing Education office. When I went in the girl behind the desk had a big smile on her face.
"How can I help you?" she said.
"I'm interested in finding out what educational programs you have." I said.
"Grab a brochure." she said.
"No, I want the curriculum programs. Where is the enrollment office?" I said.
The smile disappeared. She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "You want the curriculum programs?" she asked.
It was then I had an epiphany. Holy crap, I've gotten old!! When did that happen? I pasted a tense smile on my face and said, "I know I'm old, but I'd like to go back to school and get another degree."
"No, no...you're not old," she said, but her eyes told me I was. "The enrollment office is in the next building."
I scurried off, trying not to notice all the young faces surrounding me in the hallway, and headed into the next building. I found the enrollment desk. There were two twenty-somethings ahead of me and I waited patiently. When they left the girl behind the desk smiled at me and said, "Yes? How can I help you."
"I wondered if you had a brochures of the classes you offer?" I said.
"You mean the Continuing Education classes?" she said.
"No I mean the Curriculum courses. I want to go back to get a degree." I said.
The smile disappeared.
"All the classes are listed on-line. We don't print handbooks anymore." she said.
"Ugh, okay thanks." I mumbled and slinked off realizing I hadn't needed to publicly humiliate myself.
Do I really want to go back to school? I don't know for sure, but I do know I didn't want to feel "old" today and unfortunately I did. How did that 90 year old woman who just graduated college stand it? Maybe I'll give her a call...........
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