Me 'n My Laptop

Someone explain to me why I go into a baking and cooking frenzy when SonOne is in town. It's not like I cooked much when he was a child.

It's been a frustratingly good day.  Not sure if that is a word ... frustratingly...?  Good day cause my son is in town, frustrating because it was a pain to get him here. 

He left home in Spokane at 4am Thursday morning, headed this way, flying free.  Which really means "stand-by".  Flew to Boise, and had a 3 hour layover, because my town was off the map evidently because of fog.  They decided to divert to Bozeman, Montana, which is 200.77 miles away from here, and 3 hours and 30 minutes away.  I guess the hope was by the time they got to Bozeman, our fog would have ... dissipated.  I do believe that's the first time I've ever used "dissipated". 

So at about noon,  SonOne sent me a text, "If you don't hear from me by 2pm, get ready to pick me up in Bozeman".  I went and gassed up the car, kicked the tires, checked the oil, and found a map to Bozeman.  At 2pm, I hadn't heard from him, so I headed out.  Suddenly, after 17.49 miles and 17 minutes out, headed for Bozeman, it occurred to me that something wasn't right.  Then I almost getting killed by an asshole driver.   After some nasty words, and several deep breathes, I pulled over near Sugar City to think.  SonOne said "If you don't hear from me by 2pm, get ready to pick me up in Bozeman".  Blink.  Blink.  That didn't make sense.  If he was stuck in Bozeman, he would be able to call me and tell me to come get him.  Why?  Because he'd be on the ground.  Can't use cell phones in the air.  I text-ed him.  No answer.  Which meant he was in the air, one would presume. 

In the meantime, my sister told me my route to Bozeman was closed because of winter.  Hmph.  I asked her to call the transportation department for a road report.  I called a friend, who knew the route to Bozeman cause her mom lives there, and she said yes, Yellowstone was closed, but I was taking the West Yellowstone route.  Uh.  Okay.  Sister called back and told me Yellowstone was closed, and you can only go there on snow machines.  That's how Yellowstone is in the winter - the residents drive snow-mobiles.  Cool, huh.  So I told sis about WEST Yellowstone, and she still said it was closed.

At some point, either she or I decided SonOne must be in the air and headed to Idaho Falls, because of the time elapsed.  The fog was upon me.  Evidently, it was lifting from Idaho Falls, and following me to Yellowstone.  WEST Yellowstone.  So his plane MAY have got diverted to Idaho Falls from Bozeman.  About 3 minutes later, he text ed me, "I'm here".  Huh?  Where the hell is "here".  Real helpful, son.  So I took a leap of faith in my reasoning powers and decided he had to mean Idaho Falls, which meant I needed to turn around and head back.  Text ed him that I was in Sugar City, and I'd be there after 40 minutes and 36.13 miles had passed.  Okay, I just lied.  It's not as if I could Google Mapquest to tell me mileage and estimated drive time from my car. 

Finally, after picking him up at the airport, he was here.  Boy, is that a brilliant sentence.  Of course he was here if I was picking him up at the airport.  Duh.  He was supposed to be here at 10:30am.  He finally made it at 4:oopm.  The plane circled Idaho Falls for 45 minutes, (sorry, I don't have the mileage for you), waiting for the fog to put us back on the map. 

Oh, did I mention SonOne worked till 1:ooam last nite?  And had to leave at 4am?  So he came home with me and slept till about 7pm.  His buddies came over to take him out to the bars tonite.  Tomorrow morning at 4am, we all go to the airport and try to fly to Spokane.  The reason SonOne came this way was so he could accompany his friends on the plane and they get to use his "buddy passes", so they could all fly free.  I'm going so I can babysit Duke.  Duke!  The rest of them are going skiing in Canada somewhere for the weekend.  As all of them walked out the door, SonOne was heard to say "Dude, you guys owe me BIG TIME, cause I've been thru hell trying to get here". 

My WeatherBug sent me a weather alert.  Can you guess? 

Dense Fog Alert until 11am Friday Morning. 

Yup. 

So we'll go, prepared to drive to Spokane if we have to.  Me and 4 "boys" and various ski equipment in one car.  Seven hour drive.  FUN! 

Oh!  I forgot part of the story.  As we were driving home from the airport, SonOne asked why I had been in Sugar City.  ???  Umm, cause he told me to come get him in Bozeman if I didn't hear from him by 2pm.  Turns out he meant that I was to gather up all the boys, one of which couldn't get off work till 5pm, and drive us all to Bozeman, pick him up, and head for Spokane.  HA HA HA.  Was that ever a miscommunication.  There I was, headed for Bozeman, without his friends, and he was expecting to be waiting for at least 8 more hours.  HEE!

Apparently, trying to organize a trip for 5 people is quite a pain in the ass. 

He is the Fastest Text(er) in The West.

My WeatherBug just popped up again with a weather alert.  Don't tell me - we're off the map again. 

Nite all. 

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Reason #18 for Moving to San Francisco

I have a planter's wart on the tip of my thumb.  According to the Internet, they only appear on feet.  Blink.  Blink.  Alrighty then.

They also breed and make more warts.  They're moving to the pad of my thumb.  I've had an itchy eye since last night. 

Enough.

I'm reading a book called hmmm.  I'm too damn lazy to go to the bedroom and get it so I can tell you the title.  I'll google it. 

From this day forward, I will not buy or eat anything that comes from a box.  And very little from cans.  I know in my gut that this is good for me and that I can do it.  It's even one of my reasons to move to San Francisco - fresh fruit and vegetables, cheaper, more available, and more variety. 

There are fresh fruit and vegetables on every corner, which would be Reason #18 for Moving to San Francisco.  If not on every corner, then at least on every block.  Okay, I'm exagerating, but I live in Idaho.  Where the fruit and vegetable aisles don't shine.  I love fresh fruit, even apples, which is a whole new experience with The Teeth. 

If you don't want to go shopping yourself, you can join local farms and have fresh produce delivered to you weekly.  !!!  Enough produce to feed two people is only $21.00 a week.  !!!  I can afford that.  I can soooo afford that, and it's so much healthier, and I LIKE it, too. 

I can't think about this anymore cause it makes me ache when I look out the window. 

Bleh.

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Fontana

You thought I forgot, huh.  Dream on.  You KNOW I have a cracker jack memory firing on all eight  six  four cylinders. 

I spent ALL day at Wheelie's yesterday, watching the race commentary for most of the day, as the race was rained on, cautioned to death, and rained on again.  I finally called the race, and switched the channel, only to flip back to make sure they listened to me - and they were off the air.  Later, I tuned in to see when they'd be started again on Monday (today), only to find out that they hadn't called it officically, they were going to restart the race at 1am.  That's one hour after midnight.  That's a very long day for drivers who are driving up to 180 miles an hour!  Idiot Nascar.  So said I to the television, and once again they listened to me, as 5 minutes later, they decided not to restart until 1pm on Monday (still today). 

That's not the only call I made that they listened to - I think Jeff is finally going to believe I know what I'm talking about, and they're going to start giving me a crew radio so that I can help more from now on. 

So here it is, Monday, and the race is pretty much being run on pitt road, because of all the cautions.  Whoever has the fastest pit stops, and leaves the pitt road first is doing good.  My man Gordon is running great, having led most of the laps yesterday, and he's in the lead right now with 70 laps to go.  Dale Jr. is 41 laps down - got hit early in the race.  I want him to do good.

So for the record, people, who are we rooting for this year?  As always, Jeff Gordon.  Jimmie Johnson.  Dale Earnhardt Jr. 

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That is all. 

Herniated Disk Surgery

Laurie:  Comes out of surgery for her slipped disk in her neck.  Unbeknownst to her, because she was in Anesthesia Land, she was in a neck brace.  There were air mattress pillow thingys, surrounding her legs, getting tight and then not tight, squeezing her legs.  They're used to keep the blood from clotting during surgery and recovery.  She was also wearing support stockings clear up to her thighs. 

Nurses:  Trying to do things to her. 

Laurie:  Wouldn't let them.  There was a whooshing noise.  There was something heavy on her legs.  She  was having flashbacks of the abuse, because of the weight on top of  her.  She was being choked, there was something around her throat and neck, something tight.  She was fighting anyone who touched her.  Everything was black, she couldn't see anything.   

Nurses to Sister:  Is there anyone you can call that might be able to help her calm down? 

Sister:  Yes, I'll find him. 

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Laurie:  Hears a familiar voice, talking to her in a calm voice, painting a picture inside her mind.  Something about shooting the bad guy.  Kicking the bad guy's ass.  He knew just what to do.  She shot the bad guys with the razor gun he drew her in her mind.  She stopped fighting because the bad guys got shot dead. 

Nurses:  Did their post-op thing. 

Familiar Voice:  Went out to smoke a cigarette.

Nurses:  (In a awed voices)  Who was that masked man? 

Sister:  Her ex-boyfriend. 

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Later:

Phone rings in Laurie's room. 

Laurie:  Hello?

Roommate:  (Who used to be married to Familiar Voice)  How you doing?  Says all the caring and thoughtful things one says to one after surgery.  Can you have visitors yet?

Laurie:  Ben's here, my sister is here, and so is Familiar Voice.

Roommate:  (sharp intake of breath) 

Laurie:  What? 

Roommate:  Wasn't he at work?  Did he leave work to visit you? 

Laurie:  Uh.  Yea.  What's wrong?

Roommate:  You bitch!  He wouldn't leave work for me when I was in labor with our first child!!!

Laurie:  You bitch!  Don't make me laugh, I've got a million staples holding my head on!   

Roomate:  I hope it falls off! 

The End. 

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Disclaimer:  The above may not be reported very accurately, because the writer was in a drug -induced fog at the time, and the writer feels the need to clarify that fact, writer's license and all that jazz, because Ben and TC may remember the events a little differently.  Life's a bitch when people she knows read the blog. 

That is all. 

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Pain again. I know it sucks and it's boriing.

MS?  Sucks. 

The next step is narcotics.  Last week, the doctor asked me if I felt addicted to the Tramadol.  ???  Excuse me?  I was a little offended.  I frowned at the thought and told her I didn't think so, how would I know?  Meaning what would the signs of addiction be?  She said I would "crave" it.  I assured her no, I never craved it.  But then I got home and started thinking.  To avoid that, I googled instead.  The pain ramps up religiously every 4 hours without fail.  The level of pain varies.  But if I don't take the meds ... I NEED the pain meds.  The thought of running out terrifies me.  I'm not being dramatic. 

So am I addicted?  I might be a medical addict for all I know. 

From Medicine.com: 

"Tramadol achieves pain relief in two ways. It binds to the µ-opioid receptor on nerves (the same mechanism that is responsible for the effectives of narcotics, such as morphine), and it also inhibits the reuptake of serotonin and norepinephrine by nerves. This inhibition may lead to reduced transmission of pain signals through the spinal cord to the brain.

Tramadol is used in the management of moderate to moderately severe pain. Extended release tablets are used for moderate to moderately severe  chronic pain in adults who require continuous treatment for an extended period". 

My mind stammers at the words "moderate to moderately severe pain".  I'm always asked to rate my pain 1 to 10, ten being the worst.  In my mind, I went to 'moderately severe' goes to 'severe'.  Yikes.   Then 'extremely severe' would come next.  And then my mind jumps off a cliff.  Or lays down on the railroad tracks.  Or drives off a bridge. 

And this from the Office of Diversion Control U.S. Justice Department:  (that alone scared me)

Another withdrawal syndrome (encountered in about 10 percent of cases of tramadol withdrawal) is atypical of opioids and is associated with hallucinations, paranoia, extreme anxiety, panic attacks, confusion, and numbness and tingling in the extremities.

What?  Confusion, numbness and tingling in the extremities?  I have that.  Worsens the closer I get to med time. 

Now that I think about it, I think the doctor thinks I take the Tramadol "when I need it".  The script reads "Take two every 4-6 hours as needed".  Without question, I NEED it every 4 hours.  8am, 12pm, 4pm, 8pm.  Or something similar.  If I pay attention to the clock when I take the first dose, I can tell you what time it is based on the level of pain.  What about the night time?  I haven't been able to sleep most nites for months.   I've gone to the doctor, but the next step will have to be narcotics, and the doctors all are reluctant to go there.  I found out why later. 

So.  From reading the above except from Medicine. com, the questions becomes is it MS symptoms or Tramadol withdrawal?  I've been on Tramadol for 8 years, it was the first med prescribed.  I take the maximum dose of both Lyrica and Tramadol.  They don't work separately. 

My thinking ohmygodhavethelast7yearsbeenboutdrugsinsteadofMS?? For those of you who can't read panicked anger, that would read "Oh my god, have the last 7 years been about drugs instead of MS?  Well, actually, I should say 4 years, as there were other symptoms that kept me from being able to work.  But then again ... without the pain, I could have possibly been able to manage those symptoms better.  And continue to work. 

So I called my sister and took me to the doctor.  I posed those questions to the doc.  She felt bad for "scaring me about being addicted".  She said the Tramadol withdrawal wouldn't include the nerve pain I feel.  The on fire, sun burny, hit the funny bone type of pain.  Tramadol withdrawal = uncomfortable minus pain.   MS pain = ...uh ... MS pain.  Because I've gotten so much better in most MS "areas", it didn't make sense to me that the pain continues to ramp up.  But it would make sense if it was a medicinal addiction.  That's what I had in my head.  And I wanted MY LAST FEW YEARS BACK, DOG DAMN IT. 

So the doctor calmed me down, my sister translated confusing things, and we established that I'm not an addict, and we moved on to the fact that the meds aren't working.  I never get a break from it, as I used to, and I hadn't realized until just then that it's been that way for months.  I focus on the good days, so in my head I think I'm doing "okay".  Knowing that narcotics is the next step has kept me in denial.   But it dawned on me that there are only a day or two good days in the week, where it used to be the other way around.  I'd been in this place before, when deciding to quit working, and again, before Lyrica happened.  What an odd irony ... being in denial about being in pain ...  too bad it doesn't take effect physically. 

The difference is mental.  I don't spend any time trying to figure out how to get more drugs.  I don't con drug stores.  I've been on the same dose of Tramadol for two years.  Before that, for 5 years on the same dose.  I told the doctor that I wouldn't mind being addicted as long as I knew it was for the MS.  I have no choice really.  But I'll be damned if what I perceive to be MS symptom is really craving Tramadol.   

You know the sad part about all this trauma and drama?  I was so upset and worried.  Have you watched "Celebrity Rehab"?  Dr. Drew.  That is exactly what I used to do, facilitate groups, help people get the bad stuff out, so they could move on.  Help them realize their problem/s whether it be sexual abuse, addiction,, spousal abuse, and more.  I know addiction, and yet I panicked and rushed to the doctor.  I felt like an idiot. 

I've often thought I should go back to work doing the same thing.  It's not physically taxing.  I was really good at it, and the one thing I am proud of doing.  But when I picture myself sitting across from someone, listening to their story ... I am emotionally tired.  It feels like such a drain of energy to imagine it, much less do it.  I have to use what energy there is - for me.  I always forget how much energy it takes to appear like I'm not in pain. 

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That is all.

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We're cracking up here

Just the other day, we were talking (me and the dogs) about how Idaho is pretty safe from hurricanes, tornadoes, and earthquakes.  I told them it was the one good thing about living here. 

But no more. 

There was a 6.0 earthquake less than 200 miles from us at 7:15am this morning.  All four of my animals felt it, because they woke me up with their agitation.  I have an exercise ball hanging from my ceiling and it was moving.  First I assumed that the window was open, but no.  I had closed it last nite cause both cats were in. 

I'm outa here.  That's it.  California here I come.  Just as soon as the Housing Authority calls me.  Yup, yup, yup. 

I may have discovered the secret to regular blogging ... don't read other blogs or email first.  Hmmm.  I'll give it a try.

Course ... it's not every morning I've got an earthquake to report.  Oh, and the John McCain thing.  The New York Times ran a story about his possible sexual mis-doings with a female lobbyist.  I don't think it's going to hurt him in the long wrong  (if it's not true, which is the way the talking heads are leaning), but I think it's going to hurt Hillary Clinton.  It's going to refresh the memories of former President Clinton's preferences for blue dresses.  Hillary has been accused of "standing by her man" because of her long-time goal to run for the Presidency.  Obama?  Golden boy right now, but I don't think it'll last.  He's a great public speaker, and inspiring, and different, but as for experience?  But maybe that's a plus in some eyes.  "All politicians lie" is the general consensus.  Obama doesn't seem to be covered with that umbrella yet, cause he's fairly new to the business. 

I think politics is fascinating this election.  It's boiled down to a woman and a black man for the democratic side.  History is being made.  I think the country needs a female's touch, and Hillary has that, but also has the "shark" experience of having been there before as the First Lady.  But I think Obama's going to get the nomination.  Why?  Well, let me tell you!  It gives me something more to write about.  The talking heads say that Texas and Ohio are good Hillary states, but she's lost the last 10? states, and Obama is on a roll.  I just can't imagine Texas voting for a woman, but I may have the wrong impression.  Texans conjure up images of John Wayne and the Alamo, men are bigger in Texas.  So I've heard.  But then again, I've heard that the South is more prejudice than the North.  Imagine how much it would send the right message about racism if Obama makes it.  Which has the most negative prejudices - the women or the African Americans? 

Fascinating.  But I'm not talking politics.  That would mean I'm old, and I'm doing something I saw my parents and family doing when I was a wee lass, and wondering what the hell was the big deal.  John Kennedy and Richard Nixon years?  Big news there, but not necessarily making history on such a national level.  I almost said "global", but then I realized that there are other countries that have had women leaders.  Yea, assassination and impeachment are big news, but it didn't impact us on a social level.  I wonder if our country would have had a woman leader sooner if there had been someone with the experience Hillary has?  But think about how racism would get a kick in the pants if Obama was elected. 

But I'm not talking politics.

That is all.

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So much for asking about her

Me:  Dogs, someone asked about you in the comments today. 

Jeffrey:  Oh, that's nice.  It's nice that people think of us, don't you think Muttin?

Muttin:  Who was it?

Me:  TC

Muttin:  Oh, the one that babysat us, and caused me all that trouble?  Gee, that's sooo nice of her.  What... is she on a witch hunt again? 

Me:  Be nice Mutt.  Just because you got caught doesn't mean you have to be ugly about it.  It's not becoming to a dog of your stature.  (cough cough)

Muttin:  What are you coughing about? 

Me:  Oh nothing.

Me:  Goodness, do you actually look ashamed, Muttin?

Muttin:  Scuse me?  You just weren't fast enough with the camera to catch the rolling of the eyes.

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Watching the icicle icycle iscyle ice sickle drip.

Hiney is facinated by the melting ice that hangs down from the roof.

Haven't felt good most of the day, altho I did walk 3.5 miles outside.  Which is probably why I don't feel good.  Overheated = noodles for legs. 

I'm going to go babysit Duke again at the end of the month!

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Just Call Me Too Tired to Blog

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Need I Say More?

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Here, I'll say it again ...

It's the 50th anniversary of the running of the Daytona 500.  Hmmm.  And here I am ... 50 years old.  This could be a good omen. 

The drama this race is the fact that Dale Earnhardt Jr. left his father's stable and joined the Hendrick's team, with drivers Jeff Gordon, Jimmy Johnson, and Casey Mears.  Casey Mears is hardly worth a mention, but I feel like I'm back in school, writing a report, and I'll get thumped by Nascar police if I don't have all the facts. 

Without a doubt, Gordon and Johnson are super stars, and so is Earnhardt.  Junior hasn't won ... umm hardly at all in the last two years - letting down his father's legacy, (7 time Nascar champ), but also just not up to his own personal standards.  He is a great driver, and by winning the Bud shoot-out last weekend, in a Hendrick car, rather than a DEI car ... may show that he simply did not have the right equipment underneath him - he's got to hold some sort of record for crashes and DNF's in the last couple of years. 

It's big news behind the scenes too, for those of us interested in the "drama" factor.  When Dale Sr. died in the Daytona 500 on Feb 18, 2001, his race empire went to his wife, Teresa, who is NOT Junior's mother.  Dale Sr. wasn't the best father in Juniors early years, pretty much not knowing each other very well until Jr. turned 16, when he started racing himself.  They became much closer as the years went by.  Last year, Teresa wouldn't give the controlling share of the company to Junior and his sister, nor would she let him keep his number #8 when he decided to leave.  The family were millionaire's several times over before Dale Sr. died, but she made them even richer by selling Earnhardt Sr., and Jr. merchandise to a whole new level. 

Something I didn't know until I googled Teresa - the first race she won as a team owner was the Daytona 500, Feb 18, 2001 ... with Michael Waltrip as her driver ... the same race that her husband was killed in. 

Chubby Checker for the before race entertainment?  Singing "The Twist".  Boy, talk about 50 years old.  Checker?  Hahaha ... for the checkered flag, perhaps.  Then some old guy with gray hair singing "Taking It To The Track Streets".  And I have heard of Cool and the Gang, singing "Celebration", but still doesn't strike me as "Nascar". 

Ahhh.  Brooks and Dunn.  That's more like it.  Singing "Hard Work'in Man" with the lyrics 'breaking loose from this ball and chain".  Hee.  Dale Junior from his wicked stepmother, perhaps?  Shame on me.  Junior always stuck up for her in the press, cause she did get a bad rap with the whole world assuming she's the wicked stepmother, and so I never thought too negatively of her.  Not until she wouldn't let Dale Jr. take his #8 car number with him to the new team.  Both his father and his grandfather have had that number in the past.  Seems like she could let him have something of his family's legacy.

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Just Call Me Busy on Sundays

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The Plan, the Plan

I am in my Martha Stewart mode.  Needing everything in my life just so. 

1.  Computer files

2.  Real life files - make index of what is where so I know where to find the damn papers that show my weight loss with Curves.

3.  Copy music for new computer

4.  Copy files for new computer

5.  Make schedule for life.  Cause you're forgetting EVERYTHING.  Was supposed to go see my daughter-in-law (no longer dammit.  I LOVE her), and completely forgot until I came across one of Duke's toys just now.  Don't forget cleaning house for Wheelie, and playing Pinochle.  And home health aide, nurse, and doctor appointments.  And yoga or Pilate's time.  Start treating health as an 8 hour job again.  Okay, maybe just part-time ...

6.  Schedule blogging time - treat it like a job.  I really have to write.  Everything just goes around and around in my head, and nothing happens until I get it OUT of me.  I HAVE to write in order to be sane. 

7.  I really, really miss my son. 

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Just Call Me Lonely Tonite

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It's because I'm listening to Peter, Paul and Mary.  My god, I AM 50! 

I've got my media player on shuffle, and the damn thing keeps landing on "If You're Going to San Francisco".  It's making me cry.  Really. 

Hmmm ... I'd forgotten how the hormones rage when Riding the Cotton Pony.  Womanhood be damned - I could do without the mood swings. 

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A call-out for X, Y and Z. I think. Maybe. Yes, definitely.

Just a heads up - Google  in "Moody Monthlies".  Heh

So.  Being fifty and all, (shut up Linda), and the fact that my period hasn't showed up for months, I was semi-bragging to the old people at the card table that evidently I had the Easiest Menopause of the World, since I had no symptoms.  I experienced 2 hot flashes YEARS ago, before MS even, and that was all.  And as we all know, I've had plenty of periods since then, and we all know because why?  I refer you to the first sentence of this post. 

Where is this post going?  Guess. 

Well, yesterday, I had to Saddle Up for Old Rusty.  A part of me was gleeful, cause surely that meant I wasn't old after all, and I would get to post another entry to my Google-famous oracles.  The other part of me was disgusted because after all, who LIKES to bleed from the lady-bits?  Also, when the old ladies asked me if I was "still doing it", I said nope.  At first, I misunderstood and thought they were asking me if I were still "doing it" as in still sexing it up with boys, and I blushed horrifically, and stuttered "uh uh uh, well what do you think the trips to Reno are all about?  Gambling?"  With that the old ladies cracked up laughing and I thought hmmm, old people CAN have a sense of humor about sex, maybe this being old thing won't be so bad after all.  Wait.  Maybe they have a sense of humor about gambling?  Damn, old people DO like to gamble, this I know, because I used to schedule the trips to Jackpot when I was working for the senior citizen center.  Maybe it wasn't about sex after all. 

So anyways.  In doing my extensive, time-consuming research for the Moody Monthlies, I realized I have 7 more letters of the alphabet to go.  Considering the sporadic-ness of said T-minus and Holding, and that I might be waiting for the Tomato Boat to Come In before the next time I can Take Carrie To The Prom, I figured I better wrap this up, put myself Up On Blocks and consider the Moody Monthlies as have running it's course.  HEY!  Did I just invent my own euphemism - "Running Its Course"?  Awesome.

But by doing so, does that mean accepting the fact that I'm 50, and must commence lamenting the fact of my Weeping Womb?  Or will being 50 become the Wound That Never Heals?  Will I get another Visit From Cap'n Bloodsnatch, and continue celebrating my womanhood and Visitations for the Squeaky Mattress Symphony from SanFranMan? 

We shall see. 

Altho it would be nice to finish the alphabet as promised, it is with some relief that there are no euphemisms for X, Y and Z. 

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Just Call Me Woman Hear Me Roar

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A note to mdmhvonpa

Dear mdmhvonpa,

I liked the picture of the house in your post today, and clicked on your Flickr photo-stream, trying to figure out if it was your house in the middle of NOWHERE and holy heck that's a big house, and was really, really enjoying myself, chuckling at the pics of the twins, the dogs, and the inspirational posters, marveling at the Cape Kennedy shots (pics, not lift-offs haha), since as a wee one, I used to live next door to the Kennedy Space Center.   Enjoying myself.  Truly. 

Then I came across a picture of Tony Stewart's #20 car.  ??? How could you?  Perhaps you have mentioned this ... this ... ummm... weakness before?  If so, forgive me, I must have had a momentary blind spot. 

Dude.  We're OVER.  You may continue to read my blog, but you may not enjoy it. 

I spose you watched the Bud Shoot-Out?  I missed it.  I think it's going to be SUCH a fun year, seeing as how MY team has Gordon, Johnson AND Earnhardt. 

Ben said he heard that there were rumors that Stewart was going to go to Hendrick's team when his contract was over?  Since Ben likes Stewart best, I thought it just might be his way of irritating me, so I don't know.  Has anyone else heard this?  I'm afraid to Google it. 

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Just Call Me Ashamed to Have Missed the Shoot-Out, I Am A Poor Excuse for a Nascar fan. 

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Ohyea, finish for the Shoot-Out was Earnhardt 1st, Johnson 3rd, Gordon 4th.  Both Johnson and Gordon were in back-up cars since they had crashed their front cars during practice or qualifying. 

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Just a Little Diddy about Parenting. Because I'm So Wise

Having children is like

having therapy in your own home

cause they remind you of your own childhood.

Then you have to get therapy outside your home

cause your kid is driving you crazy.

And after they leave home,

you have to get more

therapy to figure out

where you went wrong

when they start blaming you

for all the problems in their lives

or if mother and child can't seem to communicate. 

.

Freud sure started something, didn’t he?

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Just Call Me “Cured”?   LOLOLOLOLOL

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For the Record Peoples

Goodness, people, settle down! 

This new guy in the building whom I have so much in common with is not my new love interest. 

He doesn't have that "thing" I need, even tho I'm 50.  Shut up Linda.  He doesn't have "it".  Or ... I don't have "it" for him. 

I'm in love with someone else.

But I will admit that it will be VERY nice to have him around to help in the garden.  And move furniture. 

That is, IF the landlady will let us have a garden.  If she doesn't, and if she doesn't keep a walkway clear in the back courtyard in the winter... then I'm moving.  I just tried to take a walk this morning on the streets.  No go.  Too dangerous.  The snow is 3-4 feet high on the edges of the roads and there's just no room for cars and me and dogs on leashes.  Not to mention slippery as hell. 

Slippery as hell?  Now that's a dumb thing to say.  One doesn't necessarily think of hell as being slippery.  Slippery slope ... maybe.  Hmmm. 

All the coincidences between me and Cowinky are just too freaky tho.  The Powers That Be in my spiritual life tell me to pay attention, but he still doesn't do "it" for me, if you know what I mean.

Of course, the old people have us on the honeymoon already.  All because we've walked the halls 2 or 3 days in a row now.  This week - a mile a day.  Next week - two miles a day.  By March, I'm going to be back up to 5 miles a day.  So far, he seems as dedicated as I am about being committed to walking.  That's all I care about. 

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Just Call Me The Gossip Calmer

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A Letter to Barf

Barf.  Can we talk? 

It's really very irritating when you meow at me like ... a dripping faucet.  Meow meow meow, with perfectly spaced rhythm.  Must you be so loud?  I swear the neighbor is going to start complaining.  You're really the most demanding cat - and you act like the entire world is supposed to stop in order to meet your needs.  And just what are those needs, hmm?  Dry food at all times.  God forbid should that dish be empty for more than 5 seconds.  Then canned food late in the evening.  Like clockwork, at 10pm, when the news goes on, you're "reminding" me that it's time for the good stuff. 

And then there's the window. 

It's not every cat that has their own cat window that is left open at all times.  It drives me insane with how ugly it is to have a window open, and bubble-wrap used as the "door", but I do it for you.  Yes, it benefits me as far as the cat box is concerned, but still - I'd rather clean a cat box when there's a blizzard outside.  But nooooo - you go into panic mode when it's closed because ... why?  You tell me.  Truly, I'd like to understand.  Surely we could come to an agreement ... like when it's below zero, perhaps, can I close it?  That fit you threw the other night when it was 24 below?  Not so hot.  (Unless of course, I misunderstood and you were really raving about Jeff Gordon because the 24 below reminded you of the new Nascar season coming up?) 

Let's move on.  Chewing my hair in themorning when I'm still asleep.  Really - I can wake myself up.  You don't need to bother.  When I'm laying down in bed, that's a clue for you to give me my rest and relaxation.  Despite what you think, I WAS NOT put on this earth to serve you. 

Oh, and the tripping thing?  Not cool.  I would sincerely like to walk safely in my own home, please.  One of these days, I'm going to fall down and bump my head, be dead, and unable to feed you.  So I strongly suggest you lose that little habit.  The dogs don't appreciate the body slams either.  Your body blocks trying to keep them away from me don't help their jealousy issues AT ALL.  They need attention too, in order for all of us to be one happy family. 

I know I'm not supposed to say this, because it might give you self-esteem problems ... but why can't you be more like your brother, hmm?  I mean, he's so quiet and sweet, and well... much more dignified.  Cats aren't supposed to whine like you do.  Or be so needy.  Look at him, sitting there watching me make breakfast, so polite.  And QUIET.  All he ever does is chirp, at the most, and it's charming.  He chirps when I talk to him, to acknowledge he's heard me.  When I call him, I hear him chirp, as if he's telling me "Yes, I'm here, what do you need?"  Oh, and why can't you enjoy being petted like he does?  He cuddles, and curls himself around my hand or feet, and purrs like a refrigerater to show his appreciation.  You?   You purr when you're tripping me, and trying to block me from going into the bathroom.  I don't understand.  And frankly, it hurts my feelings. 

One more thing.  That thing you do when you're laying down in the hallway?  When I start to step OVER you, in order not to disturb your rest (cause I'm thoughtful that way), it's NOT cool to jump up suddenly and run to get out of my way.  I've already started the process of space avoidance, and you suddenly exploding creates a bit of physical drama for me, and again, I could end up dead and you unfed.  So Barf, THINK first, before you move.  Thank you.

You think you're special cause of your looks - everybody just makes over you like you're the King of Sheeba cause you are a pretty cat - gotta give you that, but your personality needs a bit of work, mkay? 

I mean ... I've totally reconsidered my entire living place because of you two cats ... me and the dogs would be JUST FINE moving to the other place, but it's you cats who have put a crimp in that.  People would complain about you two ... especially you, Barfie dear.  Cause you're an obnoxiously "in your face" type of cat.  I really don't want to get a ticket for having an unruly cat who is a bully towards the other resident's dogs.  Or for having a cat who sits on someone's window sills, and howls because you think they should be feeding you their tuna. 

So ... behave from now on, wouldya?  Be grateful I found you in my car before you boiled to death in the heat. 

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Just Call Me Whipped

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P.S.  You're giving me flashbacks of Muttin's puppy hood.  Not pleasant memories, I might add.

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Aha!

I had an epiphany today while watching the handyman snow-blow a path around the courtyard and around the building.  Earlier, I had been outside in the parking lot, sweeping 8 inches of freshly fallen snow off the parked cars.  I did the same thing yesterday, only about 6 inches.  While doing so, I reflected within that I really enjoyed doing so - the sun was bright, the snow wasn't too heavy, and I knew most of the owners of the cars were either old, on walkers, in wheelchairs and they would appreciate it.  I get true joy out of doing for them, because I know how it feels to not be able to do things.  And it truly feels sooo good to be able to do it myself again.  On my good days.  To be thankful for the good days, I do for others. 

Regarding moving to next door town, for the purpose of being 3-4 blocks closer to the river, where there is a walking path going around the river, and it's plowed in the winter = safe walking. 

1.  Cats will be exposed to much more traffic, neighbors, other cats, etc.  They have back door patios, and my cats would be a bother.  Here, they pretty much have the run of the courtyard, and they bother no-one cause no-one goes out there very much.  We don't have outdoor acess to the courtyard.  They have the garden area to hunt mice, should they decide to become more like cats, rather than dogs.  They are safe from traffic. 

2.  The Curves in town is clear across town.  Here, there is a gym about 2 blocks away, and my walking route goes right next to it during the summer.  During the winter, the roads are slippery and dangerous. 

Our apartment handyman had a snow blower today, and he made a path around the courtyard, and around the building.  The snow is 2 feet deep back there.  It took the visual for me to realize that is all I need - keep a damn path cleared and I don't have to move away.  I HAVE to walk.  I've gained 15 pounds back, and I could care less about living again, and I KNOW walking will fix that. 

So, tomorrow, I am going to ask the landlady if she will commit to making a "sidewalk" for me in the winter, AND keep the garden area as a garden (she wants to plant grass), then I will stay here.  I couldn't ask for a better place for my animals.  The other issue was not being able to have bird/squirrel feeders.  She told the new guy that he could have one.  Hmmm. 

The other place (I'm next on the list to be called and someone is going to a nursing home, so it's close) allows 1 small pet.  I know I can get the two dogs approved, but the cats are iffy.  I TRIED not to get attached, but damn.  I am attached.  We are a family of five. 

As this epiphany was happening, I realized to what extent I've put my life on hold, because I have been planning to move for 3 years now.  San Francisco is going to be years, I'm afraid.  Unless I simply just go with no net underneath ... I'm not saying that I'm giving up - absolutely not.   

Also, the new guy that moved in whom has so much in common with me?  He and I have been walking together, and it's soooooo nice to have someone closer to my age around here that doesn't need help.  Plus the fact that he's not boyfriend material is a good thing, cause we don't have that "thing" that complicates boy/girl relationships.  He is an avid gardener too, and it will be soooo nice to have HELP out there, rather me being the one that does the majority of the physical work.  Al tho the in common stuff is starting to get creepy.  We both drive same year/make of car, we both used to drive Ford Explorers.  We were both molested by fathers, and babysitters.  We both used to work for Club Inc.  We both used to have the same counselor.  He sees auras and visions, as I do.  Oh.  Get this.  He collects hearts.  Yea ... like I said ...creepy. 

Anyways.  I am peaceful once again inside.  I'll join Snap Fitness again, and start living like I live here, instead of mentally packing up and jumping ship.  After moving furniture a couple weeks and making a walk-in closet, I have really been liking my apartment too. 

SanFranMan is obsessed by politics lately.  He really likes Hillary, to the point of imagining he and her have a personal relationship.  All in his mind.  He's been calling me every nite, and we argue about politics, and he talks about his daughter alot cause he's worried about her, and then we argue about Hillary and Obama some more.  I originally liked Obama, but ever since Hillary showed her human side a couple weeks ago, showing how exhausted she is, I have come to like her better than Obama.  He just doesn't have the experience, and she can hit the ground running, should she be elected.  Our country is finally accepting the fact that a woman can be president ... and it's a HUGE plus that the first woman president (possibly) just happens to have the best experience one could ask for ... she was a First Lady 7 years ago.  It's good Obama inspires and dreams - our country has hope again, I think.  Either one, tho, is better than any of the other contenders, and I'm pretty sure we'll have a Democratic president this time around.  Ideally?  Clinton and Obama on the same ticket.  Then 8 years for Clinton, and another 8 years for Obama ... just might fix the majority of our country's problems.  Medical insurance, the war, illegal aliens, the recession, Medicare being the top priorities.  Oh, and rebuilding our status as the greatest country in the world ...

I can't believe I veered off so much off the Epiphany Course. 

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Just Call Me

Thoughts on Mormons

• From the Post-Register Breaking News Department: (I sent this in an email to someone, who argued with me the other day about the fact that he knows how prevalent Mormon are, and how their religion permeates so many areas ... and he says that living in area where there are less than 10 percent Mormons in his area)  (Even less than less then 10 percent)  (So when I tell him a certain movie couldn't come to town because of the Mormons, he doesn't get it)  (I highlighted the red)  (I live next door to Utah). 

SALT LAKE CITY — Thomas S. Monson has been chosen as the 16th president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the church said today. Monson, 80, succeeds Gordon B. Hinckley, who died Jan. 27 at age 97. Out of respect for the deceased president, the Mormon church never names a successor until after funeral services. Hinckley was buried Saturday. The church relies on a pattern of apostolic succession in selecting a new president. Since the early part of the 20th century, the position has always passed to the most-senior member of its Council of Twelve Apostles, the second-tier of church leadership. Monson was named to the council in October 1963 at the age of 36, after serving as a local church bishop and as director of the church’s Canadian missionary activities in Toronto. Monson served as counselor to Hinckley and two previous presidents in the church’s highest leadership circle, the First Presidency. He is the youngest man to hold the presidency since Spencer W. Kimball, who was 78 when named president in 1973. Mormon presidents serve for life. As president, Monson will shepherd a growing church with 13 million members in 160 countries. Of those, about 5.7 million are in the United States. One-third of church members live in Utah.

One third of 5.7 million live in Utah ???? I don't know how to divide 3 into 5.7 million because 3 doesn't go into million. 

Hahaha get it?  A number (3) doesn't go into a word (million).

I so funny. 

Wait.  It says "one third of church members live in Utah".  That CAN'T mean all 13 million members, can it?  I'll have to do more research. 

I'll have to figure out how many zero's a million has before I can do the math. 

(End of email)

So I Googled "mormon population" and discovered the numbers are going down.  Hmmm.  Shall I out myself by being honest here?  Fine.  Shrinking mormon numbers is good news to me.  I'm tired of being ruled by a majority religion.  Religion being the operative word there.  If it were a majority something else, like Republicans or Democrats or by race, I can accept it more.  But here, the religion dominates the politics also, and it's pretty blatant. 

It's the little things that turned me off so completely.  When I first moved here over 20 years ago, I was told that I'd never meet up with Jacob in Heaven because there are different heavens in the Mormon religion and I wouldn't be able to be in Jacob's heaven for some dumbass reason, I don't remember, but basically it was because I wasn't good enough, he's an innocent blah blah blah.  That was my VERY FIRST introduction to the religion.  A bit later, SonOne wasn't allowed to play with a group of kids in the apartment complex we lived in, because we weren't Mormon.  A couple years later, I tried to get SonOne into the Boy Scouts, only to discover that they were run by the Mormons, and the meetings were held in their church buildings.  Because it's a national program, and cannot discriminate, they couldn't not let him join, but they made it hard to be accepted, especially when it came time to earn the religion badge.  My main reason for wanting him to join the Boy Scouts was so he could have a male influence in his life.  I found it ironic that there weren't any male leaders in the boy scouts (in our area), it was the women who ran the show.  Ironic because the man is touted as the head honcho, the Boy Scouts was supposed to be about being BOYS, and women were in charge here. 

In retrospect... I probably shouldn't have let him quit. 

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Just Call Me Looking Back

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Things You Never See In Idaho

1.  Democrats

2.  People with AIDS - gasp!

3.  Homosexuals - more gasping! 

4.  Highway billboards being changed.  One day it's advertising cell phones, the next day it's all about the new bank in town.  How did it happen?

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