Category Archives: wtf

How’s Your Day?

So the phone rings earlier. The real phone. I cringe like I always do. But I answer it anyway.
A man named Danielle (I swear) says he’s with Window’s something or other. His English is so sketchy I can barely understand what he is saying.
“Do you have computah?”
And I think, I don’t have time for this nonsense so I say “I do not.”
Couple seconds of silence.
“Do you have laptop?” Sounded like he said “Le Pop” so I say “Pardon me?” and he repeats it. I say, “No, I don’t.”
So he says “What do you have?” I’m tempted to say “I have a vibrator” but I do not. I figure if I say I have a smartphone, I’ll be on the line longer, so I say, “I have a cellphone.”
Danielle (?) chuckles and says, “Oh my gootness!” and then there’s a couple seconds of silence, another chuckle and then a click.

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Gravity, Interrupted.

Prompted by an excellent piece by my good friend and author, Harry Ramble, I wish to share a short countenance that is stored in my memory as one of the first dates I had with PD.

PD’s father owned a camp a couple of hours from here.  It was in a beautiful and secluded wooded area and would make an excellent place to invite a beautiful woman for a nice weekend escape and PD, being no dummy, did that very thing.  And I accepted.

New to this whole “camp” scenario, I didn’t know that the propane tanks which enable cooking and heating inside the camp would be stored in a shed off to the edge of the property, probly about  twenty feet from the camp itself. C’mon. I was a city girl long before I became a country girl… At any rate, the shed had been built amid a blind of pine trees.  Very. Tall. Pine. Trees.  It was dark in the shed. I don’t remember if there was electricity in there, but I stood outside under the pines while PD unlocked the padlock on the door of the shed and stepped inside.  I was to find out later that the loud whooshing sound I heard was from the air escaping the tank when he opened the valve to turn on the propane.  It was quite startling since I did not expect the noise.  AND it was loud. Evidently the squirrel in the tree must have been at least as startled as I was because, mid-whoosh, he dove straight down out of the tree  like a furry gray torpedo  and landed  directly on my head for a second or two… his tiny paws scrambling around in my hair to get his footing long enough to dive yet again.  This time, to the ground and he shot off into the woods, most likely to a backwoods version of Urgi-Care to have a full cardio work-up to make sure he wasn’t having a heart attack. Me? I would never relax outside the confines of my own home, ever again.

Maybe a better title for this post may have been “Squirrel, Interrupted…”

It’s Not How it Looks…

Just logged in here and was surprised to see that my winter settings from last year have kicked in. I don’t think I was using this header photo last year. Otherwise I would have noticed that it looks like I’m having a dandruff problem.

Hi

It’s been so long since I posted and WordPress has changed things so much that I’m not sure I know what I’m doing here. I started a post with the intention of publishing it later but can’t even find that option on my dashboard.  So I guess you could say this is a test post.

Sheesh. My bad.

A Blog Can Serve a Purpose (and other observations)

I’ve all but abandoned this blog. Once upon a time it served a purpose.  I used it to empty out my head every now and then.  Then, quite a while ago, I found other places to distribute the stuff that was clogging up my brain… maybe not entirely emptying it out but more or less dribbling things out in starts and stops and spurts.

But now I have this ridiculously saturated medulla or cerebellum or whatever you call it and there’s no way I could possibly drain it sufficiently without coming back here. So, over the next few hours or days or however long it takes, I’mma gonna be here emptying out my brain and my heart and whatever else I can squeeze out so I can have my old self back… the one that can sleep and rationalize and communicate intelligibly, (even carry on a conversation) and emote and add and subtract.

As it stands right now, it’s 2:19am. I’m supposed to be waking up in 3 hours to go back to work after having been off for a week. Unless you count the weekends, in which case it would be 9 days. That’s how long it took to watch my mom die and see to it that she got a proper burial and deal with the aftermath. Partially, anyway.

And all that stuff up there left me with a head the size of a [insert something of impressive volume here] full of bombarding thoughts and not a clue as to how to sort them out and make sense of any of it.  I know, because I’ve spent the last four or five (I can’t even count anymore) nights trying.  And that was on top of the daunting task of trying to cry.

There’s something about watching your mother die and not being able to cry that just doesn’t sit well with me. I dunno, it just doesn’t feel normal.

Stay tuned for part two, four, five, three , seven, twelve, eight and however many more it takes to get me the hell through this.

Boo Spam

Sadly, I’ve had to disable the page I had on my blog all about one of my favorite bands.  It seems to have turned into a spam magnet. 94 hits this morning. It makes me mad. Why can’t life just be simple without all the little headaches? They seem to multiply day by day and contribute to one big headache.

Oh, how I long for the simpler days gone by… I don’t think I’m cut out for living in this age.

Going to try a little experiment. I’m posting a video of the band and see what happens. This post may or may not be here tomorrow, depending.

A Little Mid-Week Trauma

I may have told you on FB or Twitter that I’ve been seeing a chiropractor on a bi-weekly basis.  I’m supposing that this is the result of working too long in one position.  (So much for ergonomics.  Whatever…)

Anyway.  I was making noticeable progress. The day of my initial visit, I had woken up feeling like I could barely move my neck.  I felt like my whole clavicle was out of whack and the pain was making me nauseous.  I called off work that day, called the chiropractor and his lovely receptionist uttered those miraculous words, “How soon can you be here?”  That was roughly 3 weeks ago.

By this past Monday I was feeling quite human once again.  I’ve gotten in the habit of moving gracefully as opposed to using any quick, jerky movements to give my neck a nice rest and to let it enjoy it’s new “home.”  Read: where it’s supposed to be, as in no place like

And then… picture it.  I’m cleaning up my work area in the clean room at work.  I’ve been training another girl to do a job that I used to do.  It’s time for her to put information in the system and I am walking toward her to make sure she’s doing it right.  In the mean time, there is another girl, a big girl (and if I say she weighs in the neighborhood of 300+ pounds, I am not exaggerating) standing off to the side of my path.  Suddenly, the big girl steps backward, directly into me, knocking me off balance.  Before I realize what’s happening, I’m careening toward trainer girl.  Rather than crash down on her, I throw out my left arm to grab the edge of her desk to catch myself.  Hindsight being as they say 20-20, I may have been better off just crashing down on top of trainer girl.

I not only jarred my left wrist but I twisted my neck and spine (at the waist) when I caught myself.  Reading this, it sounds worse than it actually was.  It’s just that after having no less than six or seven adjustments, I now feel like everything the chiropractor has done has been un-done.  Right this minute I have ice on my wrist (new injury) and heat on my shoulders.  I imagine that in a day or two I will feel fine.  I’m due for my next adjustment on Monday evening.

I imagine the whole scene looked rather comical to a bystander.  There is me, a scrawny little 118 pounds bouncing off the back end of the big person.  It all happened so fast, I wasn’t entirely sure what hit me until the big person said, “Are you ok? I didn’t see you there.”  I’m thinking, obviously.

It’s difficult to relate this without sounding a certain way.  But there are physics in play here and it happened.  My own personal thought is that when you have a body, big or small, you tend to have a feel for the space you inhabit.  Apparently that is not always the case and accidents do happen.

On a loosely related note,  the same day I witnessed a woman very nearly get struck by a truck about 50 feet away from me.  Oddly enough, while her heart may have suffered more of a jolt than mine, she’s probly relaxing comfortably right now.

This is where I’m supposed to write the wrap-up with some intelligible thought to tie it all together and make some profound conclusion or something, right?  I don’t know what that would be.  I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time like the lady who stepped in front of the truck, thinking it would stop for her.  She may have simply used poor judgement.  I maybe should have anticipated the possibility that the big girl wasn’t going to stand where she was indefinitely and that she had no idea I was behind her.  It’s not as if I’d assumed she was equipped with a beeping back-up alarm because that would just be ridiculous.  But I will tell you that until this aching reminder wears off, I will be a bit more cautious when anyone approaches MY SPACE.  lol  I totally didn’t see that coming either!  ah ha ha.

The End.

(ps. yes, of course  i know that myspace is totally yesterday’s news)

NEW YEAR THOUGHTS

For me, the start of a new year always involves some level of self-examination.  My intention is to examine my conscience and determine where there is room for improvement.  I intend to take a look at my experiences through the past year,  my victories and my struggles.  Ideally, I would build on what worked and put some strategies in place to help avoid the inevitable rough spots in the future.  In years past, this exercise usually amounts to nothing more than a quick debate in my head about whether or not to bother making resolutions.  The typical ones come up… Eat healthier, exercise more, stop procrastinating and quit smoking.  I’ve made those year after year and something in me just refuses to take the list seriously. The procrastinator in me believes that I will take those things more seriously next year.  I won’t kid you into believing that this year will be any different. I should add stop being stubborn to the list.  But that would add more pressure and just one more thing to put off for another day…

There’s also the outward examination.  I look in the mirror.  This exercise is becoming more painful as time passes.  I see the beginnings of wrink (ok, who am I kidding?)  I see the wrinkles deepening around my eyes and mouth . The gray hair taking over and the results of Mr. Gravity wreaking havoc on the rest of me.  The freckles on the backs of my hands aren’t freckles anymore (how does that happen?)  It takes me a little longer to bound out of bed in the morning and I don’t run up and down the steps as I always have. “Things” aren’t so firm and toned.  My skin requires constant hydrating to prevent it from taking on alligator characteristics… I have to constantly remind myself to stand up straight. It’s wearing me out!

Yeah, it’s bleak.  And if you’re behind me in age, I apologize if I’m scaring you to death.  But it’s a fact of life and it is frightening and I’m smack-dab in the middle of a panic.  I see so many women my age who seem to be just fine with where they are in life.  Of course, they’ve dyed the gray away in their hair.  Maybe they go to the gym faithfully.  Maybe they’ve had or are contemplating tummy-tucks and some facial reconstruction.  Maybe they’ve already experienced my panic and chose to take steps to fix things. Maybe they just don’t care.

The experiences my mom has endured this past year has forced me to look at my own stuff in a way I never have.  When I look at her, I see me in the future and I get panicky. I don’t wanna be frail.  I don’t wanna depend on other people to do things for me.  I don’t want to become bitter.  I don’t want to become bitter.  More than anything I don’t want to become bitter.

This might be the year that I change things.  Time is going to pass no matter what.  Aging is inevitable.  We’re born, we live, we die. But I don’t want to become bitter.

Let me say that I hate this post. It’s not what I wanted to say but I’m trying to work through this.  It’s giving me a hard time and I can’t hold it in.

COLD FLOOR

Somebody pulled the rug out from under my feet.

I didn’t realize how much I needed that damn rug.

TECHNOLOGY AND ME (then & now)

Something weird happened to me last night and I’m half afraid to tell PD. He doesn’t react well to certain things…

I decided I wanted to try the new Google Chrome.  I told him and he said  fine, put it on your laptop, leave the PC alone. No problem.  I downloaded it on the laptop. Might just be a coincidence but when I type anything, it comes up backwards.  Like if I wrote Numbskull it would come up lluksbmuN.  What the heck??? I haven’t turned it on today, kind of afraid to.

Did I ever tell you about the time… I was about 14.  Dad bought this huge beautiful console color TV that cost $800. That was a big deal then for us.  A couple of days later he brought this huge magnet home from work that someone gave him. It was about the size of my fist with a handle on it.  We kids were screwing around with it and I found out that if you ran the magnet across the TV screen, it would pull the picture and I was making people’s faces all contorted.  It was big fun up until… Well…. When I stopped, the peoples’ faces didn’t go back the way they were supposed to. I freaked.  Dad was working the night shift and wouldn’t find out until morning but I cried myself to sleep that night, worrying that I’d ruined that expensive TV. The next morning my mom woke me up to tell me the TV was ok when she turned it on.  So I’m hoping when I fire up the laptop, it will miraculously be ok too.  Wish me luck… I’ll let you know.