Thursday, September 28, 2006

5T or Thursday's Too Tired To Type

I did not write this. I received this as an e-mail.

Subject: My Email Education (We've all received most of them)

I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat crap in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing.

Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in the special e-mail program.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers. I can't enjoy a good Latte from Starbucks anymore because they WOULD NOT send any coffee to that poor Army Sgt. who requested it.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking a man along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.

I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup water in the Microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face ... disfiguring me for life.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda , Singapore and Uzbekistan .

I no longer worry about sudden cardiac arrest, since I can now cough myself back to life instead of wasting time calling 911.

I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike.

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big Brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

Thank you too for all the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us. I can live a better life now because he's told us how to fix everything.

And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician, who is a lawyer.

Have a wonderful day, and you are welcome!

Monday, September 25, 2006

You Didn't Ask

1. I must have the air around me moving. I can take some heat as long as there is a breeze. Still air makes me feel like I am suffocating. I actually really love strong winds. They make me feel alive.

2. Everyday, before I go home from work, I stop in a parking lot that has a large tree next to a curb. I park under the tree so I’m in the shade and then I read for a half hour.

3. I love trees; the look of them and the feel of them. I am lousy at remembering names, so I can’t name any trees and I don’t want to study them. I just feel for them. They fascinate me.

4. I have learned how to play the violin, guitar, piano, recorder and autoharp. I am not proficient at any of them and I am not musically inclined. I can read music, too.

5. I am dyslexic and a very bad speller. I play all kinds of games with my brain to get things right. Dictionaries and spell checkers are tools I would not want to do without.

6. I am bad at remembering the specific names of things. I can discourse at length on an idea but don’t ask me to name it. In item number 4 above, I had to do an extensive internet search to find the name “autoharp.” This has an effect on spontaneous writing.

7. I have two piercings in my left ear and one in my right. My first two matching piercings I got when sleeping over at a friend’s house when I was fourteen. She took me to a jeweler. My pierced ears were a gift. She gave them to me because she thought my mother would have a fit. My mother didn’t. I did the second piercing in my left ear in college. I was drinking with friends. I got a sewing needle and an ice cube and did the deed. I was twenty. This piercing upset my mother.

8. At one time in my life, I went to the drag racing track every Sunday. I lived with a man who fabricated vintage Corvettes for racing. I learned how to rebuild carburetors and change exhaust systems.

9. I can go into a hypnotic state very easily, but I don’t take well to hypnotic suggestions. Both of these are protective techniques I learned very young. But it sucks when I want to change bad habits.

10. When I go up very high somewhere, I have a very strong urge to step off into space. I am always glad there are fences, glass, and railings, because I really want to just see if I can float.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Fond Memories

I went to summer camp one time and one time only. I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t connect with anyone. I remember that one summer as a series of embarrassing incidents. Here is just one and it goes to show you how deeply scarred I became by the dumbest experiences in the whole wide world.

I went to a sleepover camp in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey when I was eleven years old. The camp experience lasted two weeks. We had cabins that had beds for six girls or six boys and we stayed there most of the time.

In the middle of the two week stay, there was a camp out where we hiked into the woods and slept under the stars for one night.

When we arrived at the site, we picked our spots and set up camp. At one point, one of the male counselors shouted for all of the boys to gather round; they were going off on a little side trip.

“Can I go, too?” I called out enthusiastically.

“We are going to take a shit,” one of the boys shouted above the laughter.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Squeaky Clean

This is the beautiful handmade soap I received from Serra.

I bought nine bars of the Lavender Soap to give as gifts but I don’t know if I can give them up. They smell wonderful. I am sniffing them like a drug addict.

They are soft and velvety and glorious and I love the lava-like surface of them.

You should go to her site and see all of the different flavors she makes and treat your self. Get some for the up coming holidays to give to those you love.

My photos don't do them justice (sorry, Serra.) From top to bottom they are: Pure Lavender, Cherry Sandalwood, Green Tea, and Sweatgrass Cedarwood and Sage.
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Thursday, September 14, 2006

A Birth Day Story

I told everyone when I would be giving birth; not the exact day, but the week. I said I would deliver two and a half weeks before the doctor’s due date. No one believed me. No one ever does.

Living with my daughter’s father did not work out. Seven months pregnant, I packed my car and drove from Niagara Falls, Canadian side, back to New Jersey. I left him a note.

I moved in with my parents.

My mother threw her back out. She lay in her bed upstairs, receiving visitors several times a day for a couple of days. I carried coffee and desserts up to them, dirty dishes down to the kitchen. At one point, I thought I couldn’t control my bladder; I leak-peed myself more than once.

A week later, on Thursday night, I began having pains in my lower back. This went on for ten hours until finally at six in the morning on Friday, I woke my parents up. They said I was in labor. We called the doctor. He told us to get to the hospital.

I signed into maternity. The doctor didn’t arrive until nine. They couldn’t tell if I really was in labor. Around noon, they decided I wasn’t in labor but I was two and a half weeks away from my due date, so they were trying to decide if they should induce labor since I was already there.

In the mean time, my mother, two aunts (not really related but you know how that goes) and my sister-in-law were there to enjoy the show. I wanted an epidural, which I got after whining pathetically.

The doctor decided to induce, so along with the pain medication I got whatever you get to produce labor pangs. It was now four pm Friday September 12, 1986. The doctor left to go to his lounge because Dance Fever was on. Before the show was over, my daughter popped out practically flying across the room into my sister-in-law’s arms.

The doctor showed at five pm to make the official birth pronouncement, note that my daughter was jaundiced, tell me I had a bladder infection because my water had broken a week ago and he had my daughter whisked to incubation. He told the nurses to get me cleaned up, I’d be going home that night.

I piped right up to say I was not leaving the hospital without my daughter. They conferenced and agreed easily.

My visitors told me how much they hated me because I looked so good; I beamed.

On Sunday, while I slept in the hospital to lovely peace and quiet, my mother hosted my baby shower. She did not listen when I told her I’d be giving birth two and a half weeks early.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

A Birthday Quickie

Happy Birthday, PTB.

I know it is almost 8pm est, but Part Time Budda would like 30 comments for his birthday. Please go leave him one on his
blog.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Grand Slam

So, I took a break to recharge and regroup. I literally did the absolutely minimum to maintain life. I warned everyone ahead of time (in real time that is) that I was only going to do what I wanted. Mostly what I wanted to do was sleep and exercise the TV shooter. To my utter surprise, the world kept turning without me. I’m a little upset that everyone was able to function without my help, but there you have it. The following is what I got out of six days of brain-deaded-ness.

I watched Good Will Hunting for the first time. I watched infomercials, trashy talk shows and preachers. I am now armed with what I need to go back out into the world.

I did decide that I am no longer going to multi-task. I can do maybe 17,000 things at one time but that’s not good. So, I will only do one thing at a time and be in the moment (just call me Guru Nessa.)

I decided TV is crap and I will turn it off more often. This will be a challenge as the TV has been my friend, mentor and babysitter since I was about nine. I discovered over the last six days that rays are shot out of the tube and the rays turn my brain to mush and take away my will power. Since I don’t consider tinfoil hats a cool fashion statement, I must leave the TV off.

I am increasing my walking to a minimum of 45 minutes a day. Cesar says it is the minimum for dogs and their pets. Cody has taken me on a new path and we are set with that.

Then I also decided I that while I have never been much of a fashion plate, girly girly type, I could pick a more attractive style and take more care of myself. Normally, I would just pull my hair back in a ponytail and go, even with my hair wet. I look much better when I dry my hair straight. I will do my nails, just with clear polish, but it will make me feel more like a person; nothing fancy, just more care, that kind of thing.

I already have a schedule that I made up. I just need to follow it, instead of reading everyone’s wonderful blogs every waking moment of the day. This will be very hard, but I need to accomplish some things. Along with this plan, I will do more writing by hand. I will keep a pad next to my bed and when I start to obsess over something I will write it down. That way if it really is important I don’t have to worry that I will forget it.

So, I got up yesterday, my plan in mind and began reintroducing myself to the land of the living. Although checking the internet in the morning isn’t in the morning plan, I knew I had to let all of you lovelies know I was alive. After that it was walking time. I put on the sneaks (and other walking clothes) got a plastic bag, put my cell phone in my pocket, which I don’t usually do, and off we went.

Half way threw our walk, I got a call from my 20 year old daughter (MD.) On her way to work she had a car accident. She’s ok, thank God. But talk about going from stagnant to adrenaline rush.

She bought a brand new 2006 Chevy Malibu one week ago. I worried all last week about her driving in the rain, but there was no problem. This morning, she was driving along and a car to her right moved into her lane and hit her. She called me first. I had her call the police. We are in New Jersey. The people who hit her are from Massachusetts. They claimed to have insurance but they did not have an insurance card, so we won’t know for a week if they really do have insurance. The police gave the other driver a ticket.

MD’s car didn’t look too bad. A few scratches on the passenger side front fender and the driver’s side front tire hub cap. After being done with the police I told her to go to work. She got in the car, started to go and it made a bad sound. So she called me again and I had her call the roadside assistance company. They sent a tow truck. The car is back with the dealer in the shop. MD is still on our insurance. So I made a million calls to the insurance company, the shop and the car rental place. She has no car because the rental company does not allow anyone under 21 drive their cars. And my car is a five speed, which she never learned to drive and her father’s car is a big truck. I’m tooling around in a Cadillac (they didn’t have any midsize cars.) Ain’t life grand?

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Hi

I had a week off; seven days in a row. Once they arrived, I decided to wallow in doing absolutely nothing.

I have a huge capacity to waste time and be very lazy. I slept late. I took naps. I surfed TV channels. I did not read. I did not write. I did not go anywhere. I stayed off of my computer. I did only the bare minimum to survive.

So, now the question for me remains: was this mental break beneficial? We'll see. I needed to feel like I have control over my time. Since my days are usually so full of doing things I have to do, I decided to do only what I felt like doing, which was nothing.

I go back to work this morning. I am looking forward to it, in that it will get me back into a routine. I get more done when I go to work. When I have a seemly unlimited expanse of time in front of me, it slips past within a blink of an eye.

I apologize for worrying anyone.