[I Was Naked]
When I Wrote ThisIf You Think This Is Bad
2007-12-24
You should see my other life.
I'm comforting myself with that thought as I'm vacuuming up the millionth hairball that Simon has pulled out of his belly. Hey, that's how he comforts himself, neurotic or not.
But as I was vacuuming and got to thinking about parallel universes, quantum mechanics and the potential validity of it all, I wondered how my counter part might be existing.
My first thought was she must be living on the Riveria, cocktail in hand, tanned and my guess is a svelte size 5. Money doesn't appear to be an issue and damn she is really yucking it up and hellooooo stud man.
Bitch.
Hmmph. Generally, the thought process is, that parallel universes would act independently of us, not as a mirror, and they do exist as Hugh Everett, figured out. But then I got to thinking if that is so, then maybe they are acting out every other decision good or bad, we make. Carrying that thought further and thinking the other me must have it so much better, I thought maybe I'll turn things around in 2008 and do things very differently than I have done for the past forty four years. I mused on that for but a moment, then realized that was kind of arrogant of myself, and what if my life, is the result of her actions?
Well, I had to stop vacuuming for a moment and ponder that ponderable and how could I learn from that and use it to my advantage? Do I really want to screw over my other self even in another dimension? Hardly, if she has that yin/yang pull on mine. Cause and effect, and an equal and opposite reaction and all that noise.
So to be fair to myself in both worlds, I decided to stay the course of what I know and let experience pull me through. If I reflect on this past year, it definitely has had its moments, but at the end of the day, the good outweighed the bad. I met the man who I was finally supposed to meet, time will tell when I actually get to California. I've found old friends from the past and have rekindled those relationships, held onto the ones that are important and vital to me, and have learned I have to let some go, no matter how hard it is, but they were poisoning my soul. I've lost important people in my life, but as long as we remember them, they truly are never gone. Financially, phht..ok, not my best year, but I did what I had to do, and I'm rebuilding my credit. Globally, well hell, thank god everything is cyclical and I'm glad that the only thing constant is change. Just learn to roll with it, you may get dizzy, throw up a few metaphorical times, but that's LIFE. I believe its the same in this world or the next.
I wish everyone a happy and safe holiday, and here's to 2008.
I've got to make an appointment to shave the cat.
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On The Third Day Of My Winter Vacation...
2007-12-20
"Okay. The first day on my vacation, what I did on my summer vacation, the first day on my vacation, I woke up. Then, I went downtown to look for a job. Then I hung out in front of the drugstore. The second day on my summer vacation, I woke up, then I went downtown to look for a job. Then I hung out in front of the drugstore. The third day on my summer vacation, I woke up..."
SHUT UP
Thank you.
Actually my vacation has been going much better, as I actually do accomplish things, and I am still checking in with work daily, doing what needs to get done remotely.
Today was better, since my bestest came over and she was holding a bag containing ingredients for mimosa's. She hadn't seen my roommate in about 18 years, so they reconnected and we confirmed some plans for the holidays. I'll give her credit..she always has my back.
Out of the blue, TJ asks me what am I doing outside not dressed. Janet turned to look at me, clad in my ever present velvet pajamas and bare feet and looked back at him and said, "What? she's dressed..for Pammy." He smiled shook his head, gave me the I'm a wienie look and drove off, as we jokingly told him not to worry about retrieving my car that I loaned him last night. He left it up the street at a garage, since he stopped by and his was done, he switched out and left mine there overnight..yep..and I'm the wienie?
Bag in hand we went inside and I went to grab the appropriate stemware for mimosa's. She gently chided me and I grabbed the white wine goblets instead. They were yummy, went down quickly, and yes..I'll have another.
At some point during the drinking, laughing and chortling, we decided a good idea would be to go shopping at Target. Fortunately I live in close proximity to a new one so it was less than a five mile drive. Yep we stopped and retrieved my car, so two slightly tipsy women were on the road and passed an amazing number of police.
For the women out there you know you have a rhythm to your shopping, if you are alone or with a friend. Add alcohol to the mix and its a whole new dimension. I've done this before, this being SUI, Shopping under the Influence, which explains some very large pieces of furniture in my home, that didn't seem that big in a store with 30' ceilings. I've learned my lesson.
But for some reason in this particular demographic region, they had an abundant supply of size 11 women shoes. Janet is tall, 5'11" to my 5'5". Row upon row of shoes and boots in her size filled the shelves. One thing any woman of height knows is the last thing they need is a heel. I had her try on a pair of boots that we knew wouldn't fit the calves, but they still looked great on her. Getting them off was another story and as I tugged and pulled and our laughter filled the store, another shopper walked by commenting that we were having way too much fun, but she was smiling as she said it. I had her try another pair of shoes on with a four inch heel, because my man in CA is between 6'2 and 6'3. I'm always looking at tall people trying to judge my height against his. We allowed one inch for her hair and she gamely wedged her foot in, not unlike a step sister looking for her prince. She wobbled a bit, as I eyed her up and once she gained her stance she was amazed at how small her feet looked.
I couldn't but help agree that yes, she was almost geisha like with her bound feet, which set us off on another paroxysm of laughter, and giving her courage to try on the red patent leather shoes with a peep toe and kitten heel. I really wanted her to buy them for herself, but she is way too practical and couldn't see herself running after the kids she watches at home in them, or wearing them to the YMCA. Personally I think anytime is a good time for a heel, and I was having a little shoe jealousy going on as I'm still hobbling around with my sprained feet, thank god for shopping carts that can be used as a handicap device.
We festered and puttered and shopped until she had a moment of clarity and decided we should go to the movies and see Enchanted. I was game even though I hate everything Disney. Always have, even as a child, but the premise was good, so I went along. I had to look up area theaters on my phone, and we realized we had to get to Point B from Point A and there weren't any shortcuts I could think of and we hadn't checked out yet. We had 40 minutes to get there..and that was cutting in close. Somehow instead of following me, she took the lead and I was trying to direct from behind. She made it through one set of lights and bless her heart she pulled over to wait for me, as I was mentally urging her on to get there first and buy tickets. It would have made sense to take her call but I was on the phone with work, checking in before I shut off my phone.
We arrived with no time to spare, and for the love of all things holy, a matinée at 1:20 is $8.00. I didn't have time to really work the ticket guy though I did ask for his employee discount..but he was already handing us change since the movie had started. I was kind of surprised that there was a decent amount of people in the theater, but we found seats, not too high up as she has vertigo and I could see her balancing herself to get up the stairs, and I'm limping along behind her in the dark. Yeah,we were quite the pair.
Disney actually appeared to be spoofing itself in this flick and I won't give anything away, I was amused but nothing outrageously funny, though toward the end I exclaimed aloud to her,"Look Giselle's a lesbian after all!" She snorted with laughter and as the lights came up I realized we were surrounded by blue hairs out with their girlfriends.
From the looks I received I'm pretty sure they didn't start their day with mimosas and one may have been wearing a habit.
SHUT UP.
Thank you.
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Concepts of Love
2007-12-16
I received the following post from someone over on myspace, and even though I have my misgivings that the words weren't enhanced by the adults posting it, the mere fact that the words are articulated count, and if they truly are out of the mouths of babes..our future just may stand a chance after all.
Enjoy
What does Love mean? A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:
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"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.
So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."
Rebecca- age 8
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"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."
Billy - age 4
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"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."
Karl - age 5
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"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs."
Chrissy - age 6
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"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."
Terri - age 4
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"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."
Danny - age 7
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"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more.
My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss"
Emily - age 8
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"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."
Bobby - age 7
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"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,"
Nikka - age 6
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"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."
Noelle - age 7
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"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."
Tommy - age 6
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"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore."
Cindy - age 8
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"My mommy loves me more than anybody
You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."
Clare - age 6
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"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken."
Elaine-age 5
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"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford."
Chris - age 7
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"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."
Mary Ann - age 4
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"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones."
Lauren - age 4
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"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you."
Karen - age 7
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"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross."
Mark - age 6
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"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."
Jessica - age 8
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And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge.
The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.
The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.
Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.
When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,
"Nothing, I just helped him cry"
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Stick A Fork In Me
2007-12-12
I'm done.
At some point in the very recent past, I've discovered that men who I thought knew me, and understood me, take any comment I say that doesn't agree with theirs, and turn it into a negative. Or I'm just wrong, but couched in verbiage of " You're not always right you know."
I beg to differ. But I am.
One thing I learned a long time ago, believe it or not, is how to listen. My brain does calculate about a million thoughts a minute, but I don't engage the orbiculares orris unless I'm damn sure of what is going to come out of it. As a matter of fact, I love engaging in conversation with people, just to hear what they have to say and learn from them if I find it to be worthwhile and something that holds my interest, or in the off chance that I'll be playing on a game show one day and need to remember that Edda van Heemstra was better known as Audrey Hepburn.
Are men truly threatened by an intelligent woman? I don't play dumb at work, I just keep my mouth shut because the moments I do open it, I'm snarling at someone who just got on my last nerve. I don't work in a company conducive to the owner wanting anyone's opinion but his own, but you better know the answer before he asks the question. I wear about 18 different hats a day and and if there is a problem, normally it ends up on my desk. That's what I'm paid to do, so I do it.
But when I'm not working, generally I'm helping somebody else on another level. They want my help, they ask for my help, they even realize they can't afford to pay me for my help. So if its that important to garner my assistance, than why don't you trust me or my experience?
Several things have happened lately that have really hit home, since one of the situations lives in my home. My roommate has asked me to partner up with him in some side businesses. Lord knows I have the accounting and IT skills, not to mention the administrative skills necessary to run his business for him. I even started a business for him, did the marketing, put it all together and basically handed him a turn key business to run. It took him a while to decide that he wanted to do it, so I sent out the marketing flyers and within one day he had a client and was in business, doing enough to get his feet wet, and allow him enough time to do his other endeavors.
What I find amazing, but not amusing, is I can tell him something - business advice, and based on his prior experience he won't listen to me if I tell him the difference between running his business as cash or accrual. I'm-just-wrong.
I don't know what exactly happened, I'm still scratching my head about it, then I get called out for over analyzing. Yes, I'm in the classic no win situation, yet I'm supposed to have the home field advantage. After all, it is my house, and you're living rent free, and I'm supporting us. I think that should at least give me a smidgen of respect for my opinion, if nothing else.
Tonights issue once again will be 'my fault' because I poked the bear. I listened to a situation, that at the end I opined that maybe someone who lives closer than two and a half hours away, fetch his friend from the hospital. I also said this knowing his friend has a lot of people who treat his home as a flophouse. My belief is one of those leeches could drive the twenty minutes to the hospital as opposed to him.
I got treated to a barrage of "who are you trying to defend, why can't I help my friend?" but I wasn't allowed to finish my thought. I simply walked out of the kitchen,biting my tongue, away from the very dangerous shiny forks that were in arms reach.
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Friday Night Shits & Giggles
2007-12-07
PET RULESTo be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.
Dear Dogs and Cats,
The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack .
Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years --canine or feline attendance is not required.
The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's ass. I cannot stress this enough!
To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:
To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets:
1. They live here. You don't.
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'fur'niture.
3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.
Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they:
1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3 Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. Don't have to buy the latest fashions
9. Don't w ant to wear your clothes
10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and...
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children.
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The Velvet Pajama Defense
2007-12-03
That's all I have when asked how I managed to fall down a flight of stairs last night.
Mind you, this isn't the first time I've fallen down stairs, the exception this time is they are wooden, painted, and I've known since I bought this house at some point I was going to take a tumble. I wish I could say that I executed it beautifully, in Olympic fashion, nigh onto a half gainer with a twist and I stuck the landing. The reality is, I went ass over tea kettle, flipped onto my right side, attempted to grab the handrail, missed and thankfully stopped before I hit the landing. Upon a careful examination after a few choice words not uttered since Tony Montana raised the word Fuck to a new level, I noticed a strange new swollen lump on the top of my third metatarsal.
Having awoken TJ out of his near slumber on the other side of the wall, he wondered aloud if I had thrown something down the stairs.
Just myself I told him as he came out to inspect what I had done now. Noticing the odd lump on my foot he asked me what it was and had it always been there?
"Nope" I replied and with a resolve knowing that it couldn't be a good thing, I hit the lump and smashed it back into place. A strange purple berry mark appeared, but by this time, TJ had grabbed a couple of frozen bags of veggies from the freezer and I applied them gratefully.
Most of my attention was focused on my feet, but I couldn't ignore the rest of my body that was quickly stiffening. I went with the whole R.I.C.E. solution and eventually made my way upstairs. I was trying to avoid the obvious question, of just what the hell happened.
Now in my defense, the stairs are slippery. There was an errant leaf trudged in from outside, and I had a working theory that once again a conspiracy was brewing between Simon and TJ. My guess is since he's defected his affections over to TJ, my little communist cat is thinking of ways to do away with me because I took away his kitty milk ration, and TJ's been giving him ham. It's just one more way that a near death accident has befallen me in the last couple of months. (Note to self, update your will and disinherit the cat.)
Completing the compression point of my evening, I found my ace bandages and TJ offered to wrap my feet for me. He did a good job, not too tight, and I was able to fall asleep. The only caveat I had, was they are self sealing, none of those pesky metal hooks needed. The downside was, since they are self adhesive, as I lay sleeping, my feet got stuck together which raised a whole new set of issues. By morning I must have resolved the issue in my sleep as I lay across the bed, along the pillows with my feet dangling off the side, blessedly free of one another.
Suffice it to say, I hurt. Badly. TJ assumed I wouldn't be going to work, but hah, he doesn't understand obligation and guilt. He was off to the YMCA and wanted to know if I needed anything before he left for the next couple of hours. I gamely told him I was fine, and off he went.
I wanted to assess the damage in the cold light of day, and all I could tell at this point was that my feet were decidedly pudgy and my cankles were fabulous! My feet were swollen and looked even more like Barny Rubbles feet than usual, so I abandoned the bandage idea for the rest of the day.
My next thought was to get the blood flow back into my feet, and I did what any woman would do in this McGuyver moment..I reached for my pocket rocket. Let me tell you, it gives blessed relief to other parts of the body. Which of course in my sick twisted mind I thought how funny it would be if the NFL adopted my new sports medicine idea the next time a player was injured on the field:
Announcer: Well Chuck it looks like number 47 is down and they're bringing the Butterfly vibe out to work on that hamstring pull.
That's right Bob, but in this instance I'm wondering why they aren't using the Rotating Rabbit to really get to the heart of the matter....
Well, I think its a good idea in my little world and sure would make football a much more enjoyable sport for women, and its a new way of advertising since everyone is going for product placement lately, I think its a great way to thrill two birds with one stone.
In any event, the idea was the right one, as by the time I got to the Doctor later in the afternoon, and a thorough check that nothing was broken, he did use muscle stims on both my feet, while he did ultrasound on my right hand. He found more places on me that I hadn't even realized were hurt until direct pressure was applied.
He gave me some instructions to follow, including more immersion therapy, which I've chosen to ignore just for this evening, just the same as I'm laughing at his idea that I need to wear open toed shoes to work tomorrow to ease the pressure from my feet. Open toes after September? Oh fashion faux pas...
I hobbled my way out, with the promise to at least take some ibuprofen and come back on Wednesday. I made an executive decision not to park my car in my ultra tight garage, and settled in for a semi quiet evening and working in the office without a fire in the wood stove. My feet were frozen and I figured that was good enough for my purposes.
I had one more executive decision to make, which goes back to the title of my blog and that is..I Was Naked When I Wrote This.
That at least keeps me in bed and away from the stares...and stairs, and the conspicuously absent feline who even now is plotting my next demise.
By the way if anyone is interested, the aforementioned toys can be purchased at www.adameve.com.
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