Where Do We Go From Here?

 

 

This is a post seeking opinion and suggestion.  As you know, I work for our local city government.  In May I’ll celebrate acknowledge my 5th anniversary here.  I have a good job that I enjoy, and believe I do well.  I work with people who can make me laugh ‘til I cry.  So, why am I miserable?  Why are Laurie and I exploring other jobs in far away places?  I actually told Laurie last night that if wherever we’re looking has a McDonald’s I’ll be ok with “do you want fries with that?”  I’m willing to work retail, cleaning, babysitting.  I just don’t want to work for a business that’s in the paper everyday. 

Here’s today’s entry:  Today's diatribe from our Mayor.  This is the one that sparked so much outrage:  I'll have the Puss 'n Boots - to go. 

I know that to the outside eye this might seem like much ado about nothing, but it isn’t.  Those 2 articles are only a piece of the constant flow of insulting, hate-mongering bullshit coming from our mayor.  He’s been in office since November, and everyday since I feel the guillotine over my neck.  He would like nothing better than to see an exodus from the city payroll, and then blame those who leave for creating the lapses in service that would arise.  He is blaming us without any knowledge of who we are or what we do.  And then he’ll blame us for leaving.  I cannot describe the constant turmoil, bitterness, anger and almost-hate that I have felt everyday since he took office.  Those of you who know me, know that I try not to stay mired in misery….but I cannot seem to shake this.  I haven’t been this unhappy in a job since the weeks before Lisa Cramer (a c*** if ever there was one) fired us.  I feel like my city employee status is sucking the joy, and the life, out of everything.  It’s a feeling that doesn’t seem to go away.  This is such a city-wide divisive issue, that even when out shopping or dining, you can hear a snippet of conversation about it. 

Maybe, if we were economically stable, if we weren’t living paycheck-to-paycheck, it wouldn’t bother me so much.  But we aren’t.  We’re struggling more now than ever before.  Everything costs more, and we’ve had more than a few economic speed bumps in the past year and a half.  Trying to get back on track is difficult enough without being told every single day that you are overpaid and lazy. 

Laurie’s job has minimal direct customer contact.  Mine faces the public all day, everyday.  Phone calls, face-to-face, email, it doesn’t matter.  My co-workers and I hear it at least once a day….”you f^%$(*) people” or a variation on the theme.  These angry citizens curse us, our children, our lives.  They spew hatred filled vitriol without a second thought.  They make it personal.  They start out cussing the city and end up cursing us.  It makes for a long day.  Our stress levels are at “ORANGE” meaning you never get a restful minute.  I find myself bracing before I answer the phone, or approach the counter.  We even get yelled at sitting at our lunch table outside the office.  Then, if we read the paper, or watch the evening news…there it is again.  I am at a breaking point.  I’m ready to throw in the towel and leave.  I’m ready to face uncertainty and the unknown just to get a minute’s peace.                                                           

So, any ideas on where to go?  Do we stay in Florida because we have friends here?  Do we venture west because we’ve always been intrigued?  Do we stay here because we know this devil?  What to do?  Where to go?  When to do it? 

Friday ~ Part I

Also known as payday, the longest day of the week, Friday ~Part I, or just plain old Thursday.  Yay!  Tomorrow is supposed to be Friday...I hope God doesn't play a "Groundhog Day" trick on me; I don't think I care to relive any day of this week.  Oy.  So yesterday I was a little out of control, embarking on a tremendous rant at God.  Today, surprisingly enough, I don't feel a need to apologize for any of it.  I don't feel a whole lot better either.  I did receive some great encouragement from Garret, and I can't thank him enough.  For those who may not know about Garret & Jim's Blog, I encourage you to check it out.  His blogging is world class.  Reminiscent, in some ways, of Seinfeld, in that Garret can take "nothing" and make it entertaining, and memorable.  His blog can be found at Living With Jim & Garret .    I also encourage you to check out two other blogs, the first one is by a lovely lady named Alix Hice, her blog address is Casa Hice. Alix blogs on life within her casa, and it's a crazy ride! You might as well click on over,I 
promise you won't feel gypped. ;o)
The second one is Laurie's brand new blog ~Waytwisted Ramblings.  With this blog you will be challenged to think, and to encourage this you will read many thought provoking articles and ideas.  I hope you like all of them.  :o)
Anyway, I'm leaving this short.  I want to share with you a few last thoughts:
1)   Prayers for the trainer who died at the fins of one of her favorite animals at SeaWorld.  The Orca may not know exactly what he's done, but I'm sure he will miss his friend.
2)  Former VP Dick Cheney is home recovering from his mild heart attack.  I'm sure he'll be fine.  Personally, in my professional opinion, his heart attack is in some way related to an attack by his conscience.  Hopefully he will learn.
3)  I love my family, and I have the most amazing friends,  Thank you Garret, I needed your words, and I will take a raincheck on a much needed hug.
4)  Why is the American Pediatric Association pushing for labels on hot dogs advising that "this food may pose a choking hazard."  Why aren't they advocating that parents actually "parent" their children.  Inquiring minds need to know.
5) The middle school math teacher in Littleton, CO is a bona fide HERO.  He saved the lives of countless students when he tackled the man who opened fire at the school as the students were exiting the building.
6)  I will continue to wish you good night and sweet dreams, this is as close as I can get to hugging you all goodnight, and whispering that everything will be okay in the morning.


For now, Sweet dreams, and for my snowbound friends, again be safe and warm.
Pearl
That is all.

Bandaid helps the hurt stop hurting

I want a bandaid.  Not one of the "I am stuck on bandaid cause bandaid is stuck on me" kind, but rather an emotional, psyche healing bandaid.  I want to stop hurting literally and figuratively.  
I know, I know...I'm whining.  Too flipping bad, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.  There is soooo much happening in my oyster right now ~ the constant threat of being laid off; trying to get finances back on track; an ever increasing mental funk that won't  go away; and a new chronic illness to adapt to.  Cripes I wish I could pull a Rip Van Winkle about now.  I think I need a 20 year nap.  
I have lived my whole life on a seemingly endless supply of faith.  I am not a worrier.  Life goes the way life is supposed to.  I have never asked the common "why me?" because the better question is always "why NOT me?"  It all has to start somewhere, and God (or whatever higher being you might believe in) obviously believes me to be very strong and capable since He keeps piling all this stuff on my shoulders.  Thank you for the vote of confidence.  [eyeroll]
Today I would like to scream at the rafters....ENOUGH!  I can't take anymore.  I have hit the fucking wall, please back off.  I'm tired of being tired.  I'm sick of feeling picked on, picked over and taken advantage of.  I'm tired of hearing I can't take a joke...frankly if you have to explain it was a joke or that you're kidding MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE IT WASN'T FUCKING FUNNY ~ IT WAS MEAN.  Learn to know the damn difference.  Listen to yourself, your tone of voice, your choice of words.  Condescending and belittling statements are insulting and hurtful.  If the people who are your audience are put off by your remarks maybe it's YOU and not some sort of defect in them.  
Monday our "mayor" told the local media that he wouldn't stand by as the residents of this city eat Puss n' Boots Cat food and the employees eat filet mignon.  Fucker. My 19 year old daughter didn't know what filet mignon was.  As a result of that comment, city residents have come in to the Utility Billing Office where I work and verbally assaulted us about being over paid and lazy.  City employees on the front line trying to do inspections, or direct traffic are being verbally assaulted by residents.  How long before a disgruntled citizen pulls a knife on one of us?  How long before one of them gets our home addresses from the City Clerk (where I live is public record) and vandalizes our house or car or worse?  What then?  Do I call the mayor to thank him personally?  
Of course when your job is threatened it seems your finances go to hell.  I earn a nice salary compared to many other people, but I bring home very little net pay.  In fact I being home about $10 an hour.  Feed a house full, pay insurance, rent, prescriptions, gas, food, etc. on $10 an hour and it becomes a little strained.  I'm not complaining, I'm just tired and it hurts.
And when money is tight it strains relationships.  Add to that the "your kid my kid" battle and you know that Laurie and I are co-existing and that is all.  There is no cure for this apparently.  We are both right and we are both very wrong.  For the first time in 9-10 years I feel like Laurie is choosing sides, and it isn't mine.  I'll assume she feels the same way, but since we aren't speaking I don't know.  Like I said, I want a bandaid.  We usually have an exceptional relationship, very much on the same page ~ but not lately.  Laurie is the "friend" mom, and I'm not.  I'm the one that hears complaints and some defiance, but Laurie makes them laugh, and laughs with them.  
Last but not least is this new diabetes thing.  I'm not adjusting fast, or well.  I'm irritated by this.  I don't have time for it, and yet I have no choice.  I'm sticking my fingers 8 to 10 times a day and they're sore.  I'm tired and not sleeping.  I'm nauseous, and irritable.  And I feel like I'm alone in this.  My best friend is caught up in life, and my spouse is caught up in anger.  I don't like this.  I want my best friend back.  My best friend wasn't living the same drama as me, and she would sympathize and offer support.  She would ask how I was and offer suggestions.  I miss that.  
So I'm yelling at God....I'VE HAD ENOUGH.  I QUIT.  I CANNOT TAKE ANYMORE.  I want to go curl up with the blankets over my head and cry and feel sorry for myself, and hate everything.  I want someone to tell me they're sorry this is happening, and tell me things will be ok.  I want someone to treat me the way I always treat others when they're at this point.  I want someone to feel bad for me.  
I want a fucking bandaid.
[/rant]

I'm so sweet

It's true!  Well it's true, but maybe that statement is a little misleading.  The fact is that my body apparently missed the 40 year tune-up, and now, at a little over 47 years it's kicking my ass.  :o)  There are a lot of jokes and cliches out there regarding aging, getting older, approaching death, being over the hill, etc.  I lived a good 40 years before I believed that our bodies do, eventually, begin to fail us.  Up until 40, things were pretty good.  I had the RSD thing with my hand, but that seemed to be under control; depression runs in the family and had finally run into me, but that too was under control.  Once I was a few years past 40 though, I hit the wall.  Oy!  Hypothyroidism, high cholesterol, insomnia, hot flashes, pre-menopause.  It seemed as though parts were beginning to wear out and flat out rebel.  I ignored what I could and treated what I had to.  That's cool....selective medical treatment by a former RN. (We are the worst patients.)  Now, it seems I have acquired Diabetes Type 2.  Are you flipping kidding me?  Yep.  What was insulin resistance a few years ago is now full blown Diabetes, basically a huge fuck you from my home grown insulin.  It's there, and it may even be enough quantity wise, it's just slightly dysfunctional.  Bahahaha, what a surprise.  Thankfully, that RN thing I used to do helped me come to the diabetic conclusion before it became life-threatening.  I won't go into the numbers and stuff, let me just say that after a very life-like dream I checked my own fasting blood sugar, found it dangerously high, and called my doctor.  After 2 more blood tests he concluded I am diabetic, gave me the pills, the rules, the warnings, and another appointment.  I do feel better with the medication on board, but I have a lot of learning to do.  A sad fact of life is that RNs can be very good at observing, treating, caring and teaching, but we have to learn the same way everyone else does.  I'm finding that I now must snack between meals, and I absolutely  must eat 3 meals a day.  This alone is tough for me, as I am the champ of "drink coffee all day, eat only at dinner", and then only if I remember.  Diabetes can't be controlled like that.  Consistency is key.  It's okay though, I'll learn, and I'll manage.  This really ain't nothin' but a thing.  I'm good at managing things, or so I've been told.  For now, I have a new tech toy ~ a glucometer, a lot of new log books, some new dietary habits, and I need to get new bling.  I will have to wear some kind of diabetic medical alert jewelry.  (Wow, some girls will do anything for new jewelry!)  Look at it this way, all those jewelry giving occasions...no more wondering what to get Pearl, if it says "DIABETIC ON BOARD" it's a good fit.  :o)
Happy Sugar Free Valentine's Day everyone!  

I'm a Devi-Aunt

It's a headline article on NBC News this week; "Study: Tattoos linked to deviant behavior".  Go ahead, check out the story.  Finished?  Good.  So, now that you've been enlightened let me just tell you that I have 9 tattoos.  (Damn, I'm unbalanced...I need another one.)  According to the study I must be creating, cooking, selling, growing, using all kinds of illegal drugs, binge drinking, and sleeping with bees, birds, boys, and babes.  Whew, I'm a wild thing.  (I do sleep with a cow-bunny, but again, that's another blog.)  Hahahahahaha!  The reality is that I'm old, slightly more conservative than I'd like, and increasingly boring.  But I still have 9 tattoos.  Oh...and piercings.  I have 2 sets of "traditional" ear piercings, my belly button is pierced, and my conch.  (Go ahead, look that up www.dictionary.com )  I'm considering another ear piercing, but I haven't decided yet.  I binge drink coffee.  I smoke Pall Malls.  I'm in a long-term, monogamous relationship.  (I'm sure there are a lot of people who might think the whole lesbian thing is deviant but that's another blog.)  Our kids have curfews, and we know their friends.  I think I'm the only person on the entire flipping planet who doesn't watch porn.  (I'm almost positive that last one IS deviant behavior!) 

The study might have had more meaning to me if the researchers had included adults 

instead of just college students.  I've been to college, that environment encourages, and almost requires "deviant behavior" just to survive.  This can be proven through the years by recalling many of the on-campus trends through the years; swallowing goldfish, bed races, panty raids, Greek Week, pub crawls, fraternity parties, and on and on.  You learn in college to conform, resist, or ignore and that choice will most likely impact your entire future.  So, college kids are probably not a good group to study when looking to qualify deviant behavior.  Maybe they should have used college kids to study levels of deviance. 

Some time ago Laurie did a paper about tattoos and how they tell the story of the person wearing them.  The final thought was what will your tattoos say about you?  It's a good thought.  Unlike a lot of people I took a great deal of time and invested a lot of thought in choosing each of my tats, and where to put them.  Each of them tells a little about who I was, and where I was at the time I had it done.  They start out a bit small and placed in areas that are conservative, private, easily covered.  As I live and age and learn they've become a bit bolder and perhaps a bit more complicated.  They've also become more meaningful.  My most recent one is a celtic knot rendered into a ring and applied to the fourth finger of my left hand.  This is a tattoo that has been talked about, planned and drawn and changed and drawn again.  This seemed like the perfect time for this tat.  It's beautiful, meaningful and so important.  It honors that part of my life that is most private and most public, the woman who makes my heart pound and my blood hot, and at the same time offers me the great gift of stability in an unstable world.  This is a public symbol of a private commitment.  This is the symbol of my most reprehensible of many deviant 

Qualities, it represents love.  Plain, deep, endless, blessed, patient, awe inspiring love. 

And for the record....using a feather is erotic, using the whole chicken is kinky.

Was that window open?

Belated Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  We are just past Turkey Day and a mere 3 and a half weeks away from Christmas.  My, how time flies.  We had a nice Thanksgiving here. Again, a very low key day.  No dressing up, no good china, just enough food.  The turkey was picture perfect, very tasty, and just the right size.  Minimal leftovers for the first time ever, woohoo!  I think we were all so excited to get to Friday that Thursday was just another day.  Yep, we're weird like that.
Friday arrived, crisp and cool.  Very cool.  Remember, this is Florida, so a 40 degree temp is only cold when it was 75 or 80 earlier the same day.  At 40 degrees I need a jacket, preferably with a hood.  Gloves would be smart, since my hands do not do well in cold temps, but unfortunately I don't have any.  So anyway, we load up for the 150 mile drive to Ft. Meade and the impending Ghost Hunt.  No, we are not professional ghost hunters.  No, we are not auditioning for Paranormal State.  No, we aren't off our rockers.  We are functionally dysfunctional people who scare ourselves silly, ghost hunting is right up our alley.
Laurie's BFF Stacy managed to make arrangements with a Ft. Meade business owner who says his property is haunted, and was more than willing to give us a key, and a tour, so we could ghost hunt after dark.  He had 2 parting comments for us: 1 - if you show up here after dark you're more of a woman than I am a man, and 2-if I hear an ambulance heading out here I'm leaving town, and you're trespassing.  Great, I feel MUCH better now.  The business is an old munitions plant, and a manufacturing site.  It was severely damaged in Hurricane Charley.  Some of the buildings date back to the 1800s and some are just dilapidated offices.  The place was used in commercials a few years back to promote Universal's Halloween Horror Nights.  Ugh!  There is also an old Mercedes tucked away in one of the bays that the previous owner used to commit suicide in, method unknown. His family couldn't part with the car so they stored it out there. Well, we all arrive after dark and it's creepy as hell.  Our family has never been ghost hunting so we had to learn the ground rules.  Make lots of noise, if you're Jordan - fall through the floor almost to the floor below, shriek and laugh and act like a dork.  Check, I've got that.  (BTW, only Jordan's pride was injured in his fall).

The hole we pulled Jordan from.

Well we tromp through, take lots of pictures in total darkness, and then approach the car.  The car is coated in really thick dust, it's fairly certain no one has touched it in a long time, so of course several of us wipe the dust off and try to peek in the windows.  RIP after we gawk sir.

Load up and move along...first stop an old bridge in the middle of nowhere darkness.  What the hell do we do here?  Oh, get out of the vehicle, walk to the bridge, take lots of random pictures in total darkness, load back up and head to another bridge.  Jordan & Phoenix & "friend".

Repeat this action at two additional bridge stops, and then head to a very, very old cemetery.  The church buildings here are in very good shape, but apparently no longer used as a church.  The cemetery itself dates back to the 1700s.  The older grave sites are behind a wall of some sort and we did not venture in.  We really didn't venture in to the cemetery at all.  A few of us entered in only one or two rows, and then headed back toward the car.

Stacy's son decided to videotape the windows of one of the buildings the entire time we were there.  He was waiting to see if something would happen.  The skeptics among you would scoff at what we have on video, but we were there, and we know.  Phoenix not only captured the image of someone walking through the building, past the window, but we all saw the windows when we got there, and they were closed.  As we were all rapidly heading back to the car after the figure walked past, someone asked, "hey, was that window open?" No was the resounding reply, and then I shined the maglite across the window, and I'll be damned if it wasn't open.  OPEN.  OPEN.  Yep, jump in the cars, race toward home, laughing and wondering and freezing.  Repeatedly asking if that window was open.  Repeatedly asking "did you see that guy walk by?"  Disbelieving, skeptical and convinced.  We have pictures, and video.  We know what we saw and heard.  We know who took what photos and from where.  We know and we believe.  And we're still shaking our heads, asking the questions, and totally amazed at what we saw.  Ghost hunting was a blast!  I can't wait to do it again...but no more suicide cars for me.  Nope, not doing that again.  Here's some photos.  I'll explain if you have questions.
Happy Merry In=between.



This is what Kathryn & I look like if you could see in the dark.  :o)

                                                                 Who you gonna call?  Ghost Hunters!

Stacy showing us all how it's done.

What's in a name?

I can picture it so clearly....the clue reads "Teeth or tentacles.  On this detour teams have a choice of "Teeth", where they have to assemble a scale model of the Eiffel Tower using only their teeth and 10,000 toothpicks; or, Tentacles, where teams will be submerged in salt water, to their chins, with 10,000 octopi.  The second task will probably be quicker, but teams will likely suffer from nightmares of sea creature suckers for the rest of their lives"
Cut to the living room....I say, "yep we'd lose, right here.  Damn, made it to the final three teams only to be beaten by a damn octopus."  LOL.  This is just a sample of the Sunday evening conversations you'd hear in our wacky household.  We are HUGE fans of "The Amazing Race."  It's probably the only TV show I routinely ask to have taped, DVRd or recounted, moment by moment.  I've been a fan since the first episode, and I'm happy to say this show has been a family viewing event quite often.  We enjoy the brief geography / history lessons, watching how teams relate to each other, and loudly proclaiming when, and why, Laurie & I would lose.  
Our kids would love for us to apply.  We've kicked the idea around half-seriously before, but then there's always "that" challenge.  Eat something still moving; jump off a perfectly good bridge; ride the train in Bhopal and get your ass grabbed; somewhere during the race, that challenge ALWAYS shows itself.  That challenge is the deal breaker for Laurie, me, or both of us.  
In addition to the deal breaker, there are also the tough decisions that would have to be made.  Some decisions are obvious, Laurie would be the driver, I'd read maps.    I'd try to speak whatever language presents itself, and carry all money and passports.  Laurie would be the cheerleader.  We both suck at things like swimming, and paddling.  Heights are an issue, but we might be able to get by some of that.  Laurie hates flying.  That could be a big problem in a race around the world.  I'm completely arachniphobic, and that could present problems along the way too.  But the really tough decisions....what would we use for a team name, and what would our "signature" color be?  See?  These are the questions that keep us from applying.  No, really, that's all it is.  Having a camera person follow us and tape our every complaint, compliment, argument, flaw and foible...and broadcast that all over the country?  Nah, no big deal.  It's definitely the team name.  
I wish they'd do an all gay Amazing Race.  Just picture it....16 teams, more queens than in all of Europe combined.  The arguments would be fierce; the fashion undeniably awesome.  The bitchiness and sneaky game play would be top notch!  Yep, that's a competition we'd enter...and probably win.  Okay, maybe not, but at least we'd fail with style, and be complimented for it!
Laurie & Pearl, I'm sorry to tell you, you are the last team to arrive.  But you looked FABULOUS doing it!

I am stuck on bandaids....

Holy Monday Batman! I wish I was a superhero. You know, the golden Wonder Woman bangles that could deflect bullets and bullshit. Or maybe a femme fatale like Poison Ivy....kiss me and die you fool. Ha, I could be a Power Puff Girl with baby dyke snarkiness worn like a shield. Bite me big boy. :::sigh::: Nah, I'm just Mom. Not Wonder Mom or Bat Mom, not even Super Mom. Just mom. Although most of you know this, in case a stranger wanders in unawares, I have 1 biological daughter, and 2 sons-by-acquisition. 3 kids. Once upon a time, when I was 18 and still relatively naive, I wanted 5 kids. Bahahahahahaha, Thank God for unanswered prayers. Part of being just mom, is doling out bandaids and Magic Mommy Kisses. Now bandaids are the stuff of magic, putting one on can instantly cure even a compound fracture for a 4 or 5 year old. They are truly magical, and they stay on even in hurricane conditions! Sometimes, the bandaid design is a measure not only of the severity of the injury, but the potency of super healing power contained within it's magic wrapper. Add to this the magic mommy kisses and healing is almost instantaneous! Woohoo!

Every Christmas, Santa Claus is wise enough to include a package of bandaids in every stocking hung with care here. He's brought camoflauge designs for when AJ & Jordan were still small enough to venture outside on wheels of some sort to play; neon colors to clash or accessorize the myriad of bumps, bruises and blisters that Kathryn might suffer. Hello Kitty bandaids have appeared for those fashionable and flirty booboos. Plain old beige bandaids appear when times are tough, but they have the same magic mommy medicine within their adhesive and gauze. The really cool thing about bandaids is that we never outgrow them, not really. We may not have direct access to the mommy kisses as we grow, but we know, in our hearts that mommy kisses are included in every bandaid we ever apply.

I think Fridays and Saturdays are the workweek bandaids. Mondays are like the small papercut or torn cuticle we might suffer, you know, not really life threatening but annoying as hell and oh that sting! So we get our paper cut on Monday and we work through the week until we get our magic bandaid on Friday and Saturday; apply mommy kiss magic on Sunday and start all over Monday. Not a bad way to cycle through a 40 hour work week.

Some people I know use Budweiser, Patron, or Wild Turkey as their bandaid design. Others use herbal themes, like cannabis. Others still, Nap Time Themes; sun, surf and sand themes; big honking trucks; Call of Duty, World of Warcraft, Wii, xBox, PSP, name your video console. Add a bandaid, mommy magic kisses and voila, you are healed.

What is your bandaid of choice? Do you have a design you prefer? Does mommy magic come into play? Inquiring minds want to know!

I am stuck on bandaid, cuz bandaid's stuck on me. :o)

My body is 47 years 5 months and a few days old, as of today. I suppose that isn't really all that old. Having said that, the joints in my fingers are a bit stiff and painful most mornings now, my feet ache, and they cramp a lot, my knees have their own library of ringtones, and every sprain, twist, and fracture is letting me know where it is so that I can remember how it got there. Aging gracefully is not really a challenge, it's sort of a learned skill. I'm trying to learn.

I had a serious injury to my right wrist and hand almost 12 years ago that led to developing a rather bothersome nerve disorder called RSD or CRPS. While trying to recover use of my right hand, following surgery, I was treated with a long list of drugs including short stints on lithium, elavil, and a long time association with very high doses of something called Neurontin. This last drug turned out to be a Godsend. I was on it for almost 5 years, and then lack of money made continuing the regimen impossible. By that time, thank God, I had developed close to 50% function in my right hand. The surgeon initially told me I would be lucky to get 10 - 20% function back. Anyway, this RSD is a fickle and painful mistress. My family had to live with the ups and downs of my chronic, sometimes debilitating pain, and they did so with great patience and love. I've had several years of something resembling remission and count each of those days as a miracle. Recently, as my 47 year old body begins to settle and give in to gravity, RSD has reared its ugly head, or hand. Things that have been bearable for years are once again becoming difficult. This is creating a HUGE psychological dilemma for me. I'm not very good at focusing on me. I have a spouse who is wrapped to the knee in a fiberglass cast. She's on crutches from now til who knows when. I have a child / young adult in college, working hard at making the transition from high school to college under sometimes difficult family circumstances. I have a teenage son who struggles daily in the academic world. Things that come so easy to so many are sometimes a monumental task for him, and yet he perseveres. My 22 yr old son has just paid off his vehicle and, after losing a very good job, has relocated to McDonald's and made it look easy. My children make me very proud, and sometimes very frustrated. They have so many needs and wants, and I don't have time to slow down and deal with any kind of chronic pain. Their success should be my focus, and yet this pain thing seems to want to get in the way. I don't have time for this. I've fought this fight before, and I was able to get past round 1. This round needs to not even start.

As for the rest of things, well aging and gravity have a way of making my body look its age (I hope no older), and with that comes hard work at minimizing the impact. I don't think I'm terribly vain, but I do try to at least look nice most days. Apparently as time passes I am becoming less feminine. I'm not sure exactly what is meant by that but I've been giving it a great deal of thought. I still wear makeup, hopefully it doesn't settle in my facial lines and crevices making me look like Maxine or something. I've altered the way I wear eye makeup, and I think I've made age appropriate adjustments. I'm no longer wearing short skirts and high heels, (thank goodness!). I do wear some dressier clothes to work, with sensible, professional pumps, but no fuck me pumps for these feet anymore. I've sold most of my gold jewelry so I'm left with a few pieces of silver that are fairly simple in design. I hope I don't look like Maxine. I hope I don't look like Grandma Moses either. I hope I look 47 years 5 months and a few days. I can handle that. In the next few weeks I'll be returning to the South Beach Regimen to reset my insulin metabolism, and hopefully shed the 6 pounds I've reacquired in the past year. I don't want to be a toothpick, I just want to lose those few pounds and lose the snack cravings that seem to have returned.

Days like these past few make me miss my Mom. I miss my biggest cheerleader. I could have come out of my room with black raccoon eyes, holes in my pants, hair standing on end and my mom would have had a big smile for me, and she would have said oh you look so pretty. She would have seen the inside Pearl. The soul, although it's an old one, would have felt like a kid again. She would have known without asking, that my RSD was back. She might not have said anything, but she would have given me great reassurance, and soothed my increasing anxiety about it. Don't misunderstand me, Laurie is aware, she has seen the signs and the anxiety, she has been there to offer comfort and support. She's working hard to calm my fear. She's been here before, and she understands all too well what this flare means. I'm very lucky for that. My ex- wasn't as understanding the first time, I'd bet he'd be oblivious to this flare now, and resent me for its return when he found out. That explains a lot of the ex- part there.

So this is my maudlin blog for the week. The holidays are approaching, my daughter is growing up and needs me less and less, and I miss my mom. Life happens. This is mine. I wouldn't trade any of it for any reason.

Thursday is Ladies Day

WooHoo! Ladies Day. Truth be told, you don't really have to be a "lady", just a female. Who knew that gun ranges offered free ladies days? I didn't. I never thought I'd have to. I am gun phobic. I was victimized in a rather cruel and unusual way many years ago, and since then the mere touch of gun metal makes me break out in a sweat. I've gotten used to it, and because I'm a caregiver by nature, the need to know how to shoot things was never an issue, until now. We have a stalker. He's really more of a punk ass, but he's dangerous, has a violent history, and he has been nice enough to add my entire family to his dance card. Woohoo, I'm a lucky girl. I've become rather well acquainted with our local police dept. Yay. After having been a law enforcement wife for 10 + years, I am REALLY excited about this. But...I digress. This evening a very nice Sargeant with our local PD arrived at our chateau. After banging loudly on the door, and wading through the barking dogapalooza that is my house, I met him on the walkway. We had a lovely chat and he then asked me if I can shoot. Shoot? Pool? Heroin? Hoops? Hmmm, no, he meant a gun. Weapon, sidearm, revolver, piece. No. Laurie, of course, is an expert marksman. He said unless she weighs 8 pounds and I want to carry her everywhere with me, that wouldn't be sufficient. He said it again ~ learn to shoot, get a gun, use it. Holy shit. This is the third time in less than a month that I've had someone say that to me. Use it. Point it and pull the trigger. Make it count. My dad actually then added the sage advice to find a good therapist to assist me with the PTSD that would certainly be the result of point and shoot. Use it. Make it count. This morning, as Laurie and I exited the garage and walked to the car to go to work we found a note on the hood of our car. It was in a ziplock bag, and it was a threat from our friendly neighborhood stalker, Wesley. It was full of the same bullshit rhetoric we've heard before, but this time the motherfucker FOUND MY HOUSE. Learn to shoot, get a gun, use it, make it count. Sweet mother of God, make it count? After years and years of praying, treating, caring for, worrying about, fearing and fighting guns.....I need to get one. Wow, has my life changed? And here I thought coming out of the closet was the biggest change I'd face. :::sigh::: What a crazy, mixed up world this is. I know that somewhere in all of this chaos and fear and anger there is a valuable lesson to be learned. I'm paying attention. In fact I'm on hyper-alert. I'm in pissed off mama-bear mode. My world has changed. My attention has shifted, my priorities are altered. I heard the nice officer. The policeman, who is my friend. He told me... learn to shoot, get a gun, use it, make it count. I'm going to, I will, I hope I can, I hope it does. The word of the day is strength. Yeah, I've got that.

I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say No

No No No No

Ok, well maybe, if it's what you all want. It's fine with me. I don't really have a preference. I'll leave it up to you. Will it make you happy? Is that what you want? It doesn't matter to me. I'm okay with whatever you decide.

Have any of you heard this before? Said any of this before? I've said them all. Usually with an "I'm sorry" on one side or the other. I am, of course, single-handedly responsible for world hunger, so my frequent apologies should come as no surprise. I blame it on cold cream corn and a 6 year old appetite for vegetables, but it was my cream corn, so yes, it's my fault.

Having said that, I am a people pleaser. I like to make, and keep people happy. I'll gladly change my mind about almost anything, if it will make Laurie, or Kathryn, or anyone happy. I'll change my choice of take out for dinner, my choice of TV show, my time to take a shower or bath. Yep, that waffle person is me. I suck.

My ex-husband was a long-term beneficiary of this flaw. We always vacationed in one of two climates ~ beach or snow. Nowhere else. Since he hated cruising (which I love) it took 8 years for me to persuade him to take a cruise. I wanted to go places like Niagra Falls, Yellowstone, Las Vegas. No beach. No go. I wanted a "traditional mattress" so of course we had a water bed for 6 years. I like prime rib and steak so we ate at seafood restaurants several times a month.

After 26 years of living with my mom, she came to live with us/me for the next 20 years. I wanted to go away to college, and in fact was accepted to Tennessee Technical University, but my mom and grandmother were so distressed by my leaving, that I stayed home and went to community college.

Now I find myself in a place where I want to scream from the rafters but don't know how. No no no no. It should be so easy. It isn't. We have a young lady and her infant daughter living with us. Back in February she was pushed by her then boyfriend, and had no where to go. Since Kathryn had known her since 6th grade, she asked if she could stay here. Laurie and I had a big long conversation about this. We aren't equipped to care for an infant. We both work, we have 1 car, we have 2 teenagers in school. We agreed that this was a safe, and viable temporary solution. It's hard enough raising our own kids. Now we have a 19 year old who is neither mine or Laurie's, and her daughter. So, how exactly do the mom's house mom's rules settle with her? She's 19. Her mom works for the same City we do. But she's out of the picture for the most part. It's a convoluted situation, but we have a reputation for taking in strays and falling into this web.

The confusion, and frustration now comes with the "former" boyfriend and his loudmouth, punk ass threats. He continues to threaten my whole family, and his former girlfriend and baby. The police have been to my office, and my home several times in the past few weeks. It's like living in a minefield. It's the same place you've always been, but you know that one wrong turn could blow you out of the water. We have worked so very hard to keep our own kids away from the system, and having been married to law enforcement officers, we'd like to avoid the police all together.

So that's my dilemma. I recently read that a good guest is one who makes you feel at home in your house. Man, I haven't had one of those in years. I don't have a solution. I feel like we got played a little by our kids, just like we did once before with a houseguest from hell. They conspired to make this happen, and it has. Now what? See...no no no no. It should be so easy.

Pearls before H1N1

Our news media, be it TV, newspaper, magazine...all outlets relaying alleged "news" should be ashamed of themselves. This media-induced H1N1 panic is ridiculous. 10s of thousands of people, in the United States alone, die from influenza every year. 10s of thousands people!. 1 person, who was brought across the border for treatment of H1N1 has died. 1. People are wearing masks, bathing in GermX, staying out of crowds, cancelling travel plans, and basically acting like the sky is falling. All of a sudden people are washing their hands, covering their mouths when they sneeze or cough, and staying home from work if they have a fever or cough. Wow. If people took these basic precautions ALL the time, we'd have fewer outbreaks of the traditional flu. I've told my co-workers I'm more concerned about getting Tuberculosis from the person behind me at Publix than I am of H1N1. :::sigh:::

The county I live in has distinction of having the "first confirmed case of H1N1" in the whole state. Yep. An elementary school student is the first case. The school is closed all next week, and those students with symptoms, or at risk due to other medical conditions, are receiving TamiFlu as a preventive measure. Smart stuff this plan. Break the cycle of exposure, treat proactively, and go on with life. It's the flu folks. It's a nasty flu, but it really is just the flu.

Did you read that Egypt has called for ALL pigs in the country to be killed? Egypt has no confirmed, or even suspected cases of N1H1, and muslims don't eat pork....why do they even have pigs? People who stopped eating chicken and turkey after Bird Flu, and beef after mad cow are now adding pork to their list. They'll all be vegan before too much longer. My daughter has said "what's next? The monarch butterfly flu?"

Actually it will be Eastern Equine Encephalitis. Or maybe Venezuelan Equine Encephalitis ~ especially since the Federal Gov't is missing 3 vials from one of our allegedly secure infectious disease labs. Read this: http://http//www.cnn.com/2009/US/04/22/missing.virus.sample/

So, maybe we should add horses to the list of soon-to-be endangered animals. It's almost encephalitis season....you watch and see.

Yes, our news media has much to be proud of. They've created a state of fear where none existed. They have people afraid of leaving the house for fear of contracting or transmitting this fatal flu. In this economy, and after 8 years of a Bush State of Fear, this is wrong. At least Washington isn't supporting the frenzy. (Okay, so Joe Biden might have been a little more tactful when telling his family not to take the train, lol) So far, Congress is still in session, sporting events are still scheduled, work is still work. Some things, at least, seem to have risen above the fray. Now, if any of those Washington people begin to oink, or their curly tails show, we may need to revisit the congress thing...but politicians have been swine for years. ;o)

So, to wrap things up, here's the mantra for the next few weeks: "wash your hands, try not to touch your face, don't let anyone use your phone." Just repeat it, and follow it, and you should be fine.

And for your reading pleasure, while your home hiding from H1N1, read Michael Crichton's State of Fear. It's one of the most frightening books I've ever read.

The word of the day is: hysteria

The dog ate my soy nuts

He did. Well, I'm sure they did, but none the less, the soy nuts are gone. I asked them if they felt more hormonally balanced, and while there was no immediate response, somewhere in the middle of the night Toby regurgitated the entire box of undigested, no longer honey roasted coated soy beans. After removing the entire mess, I decided that my co-worker was correct, I did feel much better....and I laughed my ass off. So yes, soy beans did, after I cleaned up the mess, make me feel much less irritable. :o) Bahahahaha. We've had another busy weekend here. I can't really recall the last time we had a weekend to lounge around in our jammies, go nowhere, see no one. I sort of had the misconception that once children were old enough to drive that they wouldn't be home on the weekends. Then I remembered that our house is the cool house. Dammit, not only do our kids hang here, but they bring reinforcements. Oy! It's ok if I don't have to be in 5 places and on the move all damn day. What happened to nap time? We've moved dog school from Thursday night to Friday. Laurie & I have been taking Caeser & Toby to dog school for a month now. They are both learning the basics of good dog manners & hopefully we will no longer have to worry about Caeser running away or Toby snarling at people & other dogs. This round of school is 6 weeks. We may add another 6 after this as well. The young lady who runs the school is one of the kindest people I've ever met. She truly is a lover of all fur babies. She has learned what makes them "tick" and works with their strengths to overcome their weakness. Toby has become much more relaxed and less reactive in the short time we've been going. Caeser is the suck up teacher's pet and he plays on that like his life depends on it. Toby is the class clown. Dog school is fun and exhausting for Laurie & I, but we wouldn't miss it. We are still working on being able to take our motorcycles to work. My bike runs well, but does need some minor work, like new plugs and a serious de-greasing. We both need new front tires too. Mine has a slow leak, Laurie's leaks overnight. Details. :::sigh::: Last night we were finally able to find the time to take a ride. We both gear up, big fans of All The Gear, All The Time, or ATGATT. Off we go and then, about a mile later Laurie's bike has to have an attitude problem. Actually, it seemed like her front brake locked up, and when she tried to accelerate from an intersection it looked as if the bike was trying to buck her off. Damn. We were about a mile and a half from the house. That's a long way when you're trying to push a locked up bike that outweighs you by 3 or 4 times. Thank goodness for cell phones. Laurie called the boys, and then the guy she bought the bike from, and his son came by and he and our boys got the bike into the back of his truck, and then home again. Yep, a fun ride. Woohoo! We're both looking forward to being able to take a ride in the evening after work, or on the weekends. It's shouldn't be long now. :o) We have a child suffering from a very serious case of senioritis. Graduation is a tad over a month away. The symptoms vary, but include wide grins, a distinct lack of interest in homework, and a constant countdown to graduation. Yay! A job well done if I do say so myself. :o) To show you just what I'm talking about, let me share with you some of Kathryn's senior pictures.

I'm so proud of her that I could burst. Not to mention, as a totally unbiased mom, I think she's incredibly beautiful ~ in spirit and looks.

Ok, I've rambled enough. I still feel like I have nothing worthy of writing, but will continue to do so. At some point, if my life ever returns to boring, sedate, tranquil, then maybe I'll be able to blog on the endless philosophical questions that run through my mind. For now, all I want to know is when someone will load the dishwasher and take out the pizza boxes. :::sigh:::

Enjoy the journey kids, life is too short but the journey is awesome.

The word of the day is: quixotic.

Watch for falling ears

Am I having a mid-life crisis? Anything's possible. Statistically speaking, I am at the "mid-life" point. That's a sobering thought, mid-life, apparently half way between cradle and grave. They say the uphill part is much more difficult than the downhill slide, but at least going uphill, parts don't usually break, or fall off, or squeak too loudly. I can't tattoo my ass to read "honk if parts fall off", because Laurie and my doctor are the only ones to regularly see my ass. If I lost a part and they weren't nearby, no one would know to honk and I could end up losing something forever. And you just know it would be an important part, like an ear or something. Oy. Anyway, the topic of mid-life crises came up during a conversation I had with my boss the other day. My boss is a biker, and he frequently rides his Harley in to work. He's been very encouraging to me during my recent motorcycle safety class and buying my '87 Honda Rebel. Now, some people I work with (and possibly one I live with) may think I'm having a crisis. If you read the soy nut story you know that some just think I'm getting old and parts are soon to be falling out or off or something. Bah humbug! In all honesty, while I've thought about riding a motorcycle for some time, the only reason I've done it all now is because Kathryn will need the car to get back and forth to college in the fall. So, sooner rather than later, I have a motorcycle and the endorsement to go with it. Of course, I'm still too fearful to drive it 7 miles each way to work. I'm hoping to be able to pass that hurdle in the next 2 weeks. So, I'm taking the motorcycle out of the "crisis" column. Last summer when mom was diagnosed with cancer, Laurie and I shaved our heads. We did this because mom's biggest concern at the time was losing her hair and people staring at her. So, we shaved ours and made it a non-issue. Having no hair is quite liberating. It was quite a learning experience. People stared, my head got tan, the stubble was prickly, and getting showered was a 2 minute process. Now that my hair has grown back, in all its graying glory, people are asking when I'm going to color it. So...this coming weekend my friend Neil will lighten my hair. I haven't been blonde since I was 13, so I don't want to do that. I'm thinking maybe some bold chunky highlights. Since Neil is the expert I'll follow his advice but my thought is "hair today...blonde tomorrow." Heeeee. Ok, I'll leave this in the "crisis" column. In the past 2 years I've joined the online gaming crowd. For a while I played daily and found myself caught up in the virtual world where my characters roamed. I find this past time to be very relaxing, and somewhat cathartic. It's a good way to let stress fall by the wayside. Since almost everyone in my household played the same game, and we frequently met up in this world and worked on quests and missions together, I don't consider this a crisis, as much as a modern twist on family game night. Gaming comes out of the "crisis" column. Since I can't afford to be a slave to fashion, and I weigh a wee bit more than my petite daughter, I haven't been going around wearing her clothes or shoes. Therefore, I'd like to believe I've been dressing in a manner that is age appropriate. So, wardrobe can come out of the "crisis" column. Tattoos and piercings? Hmmmm, well I have lots of tattoos, but I started getting them slightly before the "mid-life" mark, so they aren't crisis material. Piercings? Well I've had my ears done since I was 5, my belly button since I was 38 (I think), and I just had my conch pierced. Since I did that on the spur of the moment, in weird support of a great co-worker, I won't count it as "crisis" driven. More a moment of what the hell was I thinking? , even though I really like it. :o) (By the way, should I ever get my hoohaw pierced, that would DEFINITELY fall into the crisis column. Eeeeew.) After adding up the ins and outs, I am left with only 1 crisis item. Hair. Damn, I can't even have a mid-life crisis! I think what I'm having is a mid-life. Life. Yep, I'm living it. Wild, crazy, responsible, stressful, twisted, sad, loving, amazing and BLESSED. In my living up the hill to mid-life I've gained some wonderful friends, added to my version of family, learned some painful and valuable lessons, lost some very special people, learned that I am stronger than I ever thought possible, and grown closer to God. If everyone could have a mid-life like this one, I think society might be a little more laid back. Ok, maybe not, but a girl can dream. So, until next time, ponder your own life crisis. Where are you on the climb or the slide? How's the view? I hope for all of you that it's amazing. Enjoy the journey, and if you see any parts fall off, please honk. The word of the day is: wend

Here, have a soy nut.

This morning, one of my cubie quad-mates called me over and told me she'd gotten me a "little something". Hmmmm. A little what? Rat poison? Gum? Breath mints? GermX? No...none of the above. She got me a 3/4 lb box of honey roasted soy nuts. Who knew soy had nuts! Anyway, in the course of presenting me with my gift, and in the true spirit of friendship and love, she asked if I was "going through my change" and went on to tell me the benefits of soy during menopause. She then added that she really thinks I'm going through "the change" because I've been extremely nasty and mean lately. Ouch. I'm thinking if I've been mean and nasty I should call my doctor and have him alter or add more happy pills, I don't think soy nuts are going to be the difference. Nuts tend to make me ummm a little irritable...especially if they are still attached to a living breathing nut-case, er man. Well, those who know me know that I first apologized for my bad behavior. And I've spent the majority of time since the conversation analyzing my recent behavior and moods to try and see where, and possibly why, I've been behaving badly. I thought I'd share my list of reasons (not excuses) with all of you. I'm only going back 7 months, since including the past year may send me over the edge. I'm thinking that after actually listing my reasons (not excuses) I may think I haven't been nasty enough! To begin, 12 weeks after being diagnosed with breast cancer, 4 weeks after a bilateral radical mastectomy, 2 weeks after being declared cancer free and 4 days after her first chemotherapy treatment, my mother unexpectedly and suddenly died. Thankfully she died in her sleep, unfortunately I found her as I was heading out the door to work. The afternoon before my mother passed away, Wells Fargo sent a nice man to repossess my car. Due to the unforeseen expenses related to my mom's passing, all our bills backed up a bit until I could get things settled and caught up. Needless to say, the holiday season from November through January was difficult. Somewhere around mid-December the boobilage mass was discovered, and the whole circus with that began. Add to that, my mom's birthday is December 18th, so is Laurie's. It was the first birthday that Laurie had all to herself in her entire life. (Her biological mother's birthday is December 17th.) In early January I was lucky enough to be called to family court to have my child support payments extended from February 21st to June 7th, when Kathryn graduates from high school. My divorce decree did not include this provision, but Florida Statute does, and the family court division supports the extension. Steve, of course, objected. So a half day off from work to enjoy the floor show that is family court. Ugh. In February my niece and great-niece, (she just had her 1st birthday) arrived rather suddenly. That made 7 adults and 2 small children, our 3 dogs and 2 cats, and my sister's 2 dogs, all crammed in to a 4 bedroom home, approx. 2,400 sq ft. Yep, small. Add to that the difficulty of 5 moms and their children in such a small space, and you get a sense of how tense all the mama bears were feeling. No wonder tensions escalated, and bubbled over, with the outcome being the King family relocated to a place of their own. Shortly after that, on the day before her 18th birthday, my daughter had a car accident in the alleyway behind my office building. Thankfully she only suffered bruising and friction burns to her forearms from the air bag deploying. The only car we have sustained some ugly damage, but is still driveable. The seatbelt needs to be fixed (Kathryn is the only one it now fits around), and we need a new airbag, but my insurance company is dragging its feet. Next up, a court ordered invitation on behalf of my ex-husband challenging the rather large child support arrearage that he'd rather not pay. He filed this several weeks after the January hearing. He appears "by phone" which means he's sitting in his own kitchen, probably in sweat pants sipping coffee and smoking, and I have to take another day off from work and spend it in family court which is an experience that makes me slightly queasy. The upside is that the Special Magistrate basically told Steve to pound sand. My quad mate Tracy, has been faced with the imminent passing of her beloved MIL, who has been battling cancer for over a year, and March began the rather rapid decline in her health. The stress of that has been shared amongst our quad, as we try to support Tracy through the pain and impending loss. Sadly, but blessedly, Tracy's MIL passed away this week. Her suffering is over, but the family's grief is deep. March also brought a new round of lay-off rumors, and a lot of name calling by our local city council members. When you work for a city, you expect the general citizenry to be less than happy with you, but your own city council is expected to be on your side. Lately ours has been less than complimentary to city employees as a whole. Work has become tense, and stressful. As much as I love my job, and my co-workers, lately things have become difficult and sometimes overwhelming. I know I'm not handling that piece of my life as easily as I used to. I'm hoping that I can get my doctor to tweak my medication a little bit and help decrease the impact that the escalating stress is having. So, I think this about covers it all. Oh, unless you include my apparent membership in the menopause club. It's difficult to be certain because I had a procedure called uterine ablation back in November, so the monthly curse is no more, but all the pieces and parts are right where they started. Only the hormones will change, and apparently have. I guess I'll try to put a cap on my Linda Blair moments and see if I can become kinder and gentler at work. It embarasses me to think that I have been difficult to work with and created stress and unhappiness for my quad mates. I guess I'll have to be more aware, and more careful in the coming months. My mom has been gone 7 months now. It doesn't seem that long, and yet it seems like forever since I last heard, saw, hugged her. I miss her immensely. I know that the loss will never heal, but the grief comes less often now. However, when it comes, it comes fast, hits hard, and lasts a long time. Menopause huh? Yes, I guess that is a plausible explanation. I hope that those of you who know me can be a little patient while I try to work this out, but please, if I'm behaving badly, please tell me. Friends are too precious, and life far too short, to use any time behaving badly. Hugs to all of you, I think I'm having a HOT flash. Pearl The word of the day is: labile.

I love staff meetings. We have ours every two weeks, and we have two sessions so we always have coverage for each customer service area. My manager is a really cool guy, so I think our meetings are fun. They're held in our main conference room around a really big table with far too many chairs in the room. Each meeting has its own personality or ambience. In my area we pretty much stick to an "assigned" or "preferred" time slot. After having attended both time slots I prefer the later meeting. The regular crowd at this meeting seems a bit more relaxed, we laugh more, we seem less antagonistic for the most part. The early meetings always feel too defensive or combative for me. I feel like I've had to box my way out just to get through it. Anyway, today we learned some new stuff. We learned how much of our customer base is using the electronic bill format we've made available, we learned that the fate of our location for the next 3 years should be decided next Monday, and we learned that we are all facing mandatory training on our new Identity Fraud Protection program. WooHoo! Some good times are definitely ahead for us. :o) We also celebrated several service anniversaries. One for 23 years, several for 2 years. Our boss makes special certificates, has all the supervisors sign them, and hands them out at the meeting before your service anniversary date. It's a very nice 'atta boy. Wednesday staff meetings seem to set the day up to be full of discontent through the building. There hasn't been a meeting thus far that someone hasn't come away griping about something. I even fall into that category, although I'm usually griping about everyone else's griping. :::sigh::: Now I ask you, how stupid am I? Anyway, I think the meetings are, for the most part, fun. We hear the latest mandates, listen to the latest & loudest opinion, learn about upcoming raffles, training, or events, and have a chance to try and share ideas and concerns. Bahahahahaha. Okay, the altruistic side of me believes that....the side that sat in the meeting can't believe I said it. Meetings....an amazing waste of time? a chance to brainstorm, vent and maybe learn something? What are your experiences? Your best meeting? Your nightmare meeting? Inquiring minds want to know. And for the record, my cubie neighbor Scott, asked our manager if he could divorce me today. He wants a realllly high wall put up between us so I can't annoy him anymore. Yeah right. Our manager told Scott he has no idea how lucky he is that I'm his cubie neighbor. Hmmmph. That ought to teach him. :o) Unitl next time boys and girls. The word of the day is sycophant. Bahahahahaha!

I'll have what she's having

You know what it's like when you hear only part of a conversation, and a totally benign word or phrase takes on a meaning totally unintended, and slightly ummm perverse? You don't? Damn, that's too bad. My workdays are full of this sort of twisted, laugh-til-you-cry episodes. The absolute champion of the double entendre retired last September. She's a teeny tiny woman who is somewhere in her 60s. She could barely talk without saying something that definitely had 2 meanings ~ and one of them was definitely mind-in-the-gutter funny. Unfortunately, in this politically correct, overly fearful society, it's very risky to acknowledge the more perverse aspect of conversation. We do it anyway. My friends and loved ones will tell you that I play a good prude. The truth is I'm not a prude, but sometimes the perverse side of conversation embarrasses me while it makes me laugh out loud. I'm not sure what that's called, but it's me. So, while the statement recently heard at my office "...It just won't fit. and the second person said maybe if you turn it this way it will...." raised my eyebrows and made me laugh, it also made me cringe. My cubie neighbor, Scott, is in the same gutter I am. So is my cubie-quad, across the aisle co-worker Tracy. We may, one day, get ourselves into a world of trouble. Scott and I don't care. There's a lot to be said for being well past 40. After 40 life is way2short to ignore the gutter stuff. It's funny dammit, and I need to laugh as much as I can. This morning, Scott's supervisor gave him a cupcake, with a bunny ring, as an Easter treat. (Yes it was for Easter because there's no such thing as an unleavened cupcake.) Before I realized the bunny was a ring, Scott was talking about a ring and I made a comment about there being all sorts of rings...then Scott walked around to my cubie and showed me the ring...it was unbelievably bunny-like and very small. I asked where Scott was going to wear it, and he replied he didn't know, but he did know where he wouldn't be wearing it. He meant it as it sounded and I knew it. I laughed and so did Scott. My quad-mates yelled "ENOUGH!" I guess that was today's line for sexual harassment. :::sigh::: Too bad, because sexual innuendo makes the day fly by. The ability to laugh, in the midst of all the number crunching and nasty phone calls we deal with, is truly a blessing. Gutter mind is a learned skill. While Scott and I are very good at it, our co-worker Lorenzo is the reigning CHAMPION. Lorenzo can find innuendo in just about everything. In fact, he used to keep a journal with the date, time and statement, as well as who said it. He could probably write a bestseller with it. The co-champ is my friend Melissa. She and I had "unusual ear piercings" done during lunch one day. Melissa had her tragus done, I had my conch. Bahahahaha. Anyway, this led to an ongoing discussion about who may have a pierced hoohaw or hoohoo, and how one might tell, without asking. We've agreed that likely candidates wear a lot of black, have "unusual" and/or multiple piercings, and tattoos. Interestingly enough, I fall into this category, so does Melissa, and Tracy. Factually, none of us have pierced our hoohaws. OUCH and EWWWWW are two of the main reasons. Nonetheless, the innunedo laden conversations are hilarious and sometimes downright creepy. If you could see some of the "candidates" we work with, you'd better understand this. The EWWWWW factor in some cases carries a dual meaning....we can't imagine piercing a hoohaw, and their having a pierced hoohaw, or hoohoo, is completely disgusting. BAHAHAHAHA. Okay, I'm rambling. I almost never do that. Heeeeeeee. Well that's what's on my gutter mind today kids. This wasn't as hard as I expected it to be. I'll just stick it in here and see what happens. It's time for me to go, I'm feeling hot. I hope this makes you feel as good as it made me feel. Until next time you know what they say....if you can't say anything nice, sit next to me and we'll compare notes. See ya in the gutter.

Am I wherever "there" is yet?

I just finished reading Garret's latest blog entry (http://www.jimandgarret.blogspot.com/ and the title for this entry came to me. It's time to blog. So here's the "Reader's Digest Condensed Version" of the recent past here, in no logical order. It's my oyster, I'll recall it any way I want. Hmmmph. My breast mass miraculously disappeared. After months of talking to it, feeling like I had a passenger or invader, of wondering if I was going to face the same surgery - chemo battle my mom did, it's gone. Whew. That God, well He rocks out loud. Now I'm left with my 2 aging breastses and an unbelievable feeling of relief. Thank you to all who sent up prayers, sent positive energy, and just let me know that I matter. You matter. It all made a difference. The first week of February my niece, and her baby girl arrived. My sister had about a week of lead time to prepare for their arrival, and of course I have a house that is teenager friendly, and therefore NOT baby-proof. In addition to the obvious space crunch (7 adults and 2 babies in a 4 bedroom house), there was the constant worry with a very mobile and curious 11 month old. My sister and niece were able to locate a 2 bedroom duplex in the area at a reasonable rent, and moved March 1st. They seem to be doing okay. My niece is still looking for work, so handling the day to day expenses are all on my sister right now, and I know how stressful that can be. I hope things settle for them soon. Somewhere in that time frame Garret arrived "home" to help care for his mom, who was hospitalized, and quite ill, as well as to spend time with his beloved Uncle, who was too quickly passing from our midst. We were able to visit with Garret and friends, and share an amazing lasagna dinner a la Laurie, and some way too good chocolate everything compliments of Tim, Carl and Garret. It was a great evening, and we caught up a little, laughed a lot, and ate too much. :o) (Laurie's lasagna has that effect on us.) In between the beginning and now...well lots of little drama, some BIG drama, and a few stolen moments of serenity. In our chaotic zoo we are painting bedrooms, cleaning carpets, rearranging furniture, spring cleaning, tossing piles of junk, and living life. There are so many minute things that make me happy, and help me realize just how blessed I am. There are a few things that make me feel tired, and old....and a handful of things that show me how much fun life as a grownup is! I've recently taken a Motorcycle Safety Class and obtained my motorcycle endorsement for my license. I've bought a 1987 Honda Rebel that runs great but needs some cosmetic surgery. :o) I'm looking forward to taking an occasional weekend ride (with a full face helmet and all the safety gear) to clear my mind, and savor being the mom of an amazing 18 yr old who no longer needs me in the same ways she once did. Life is amazing kids. It really is about the journey, and mine has been filled with side trips and scenic rides. I can't wait to see what's around the next bend. Until next time.