I want to say a few things so here we go with a new vintage of whine…
The charger to my laptop has given up the ghost. I am hoping that the cost to replace it is covered under my insurance with Best Buy. Now I know that more than a few of my friends have issues with them, but I have always gotten good results-once I get past the long wait in line or the time it takes to get my stuff back. Lucky for me, the charger that Babygirl uses also works on my laptop, so I will use that, for now, but will also cut back on my use. What will I do with myself?
The weather has been great and I really want to take down my curtains and wash them or sort through boxes in the basement. I wanted to wait until Babygirl was home from college to help me but to tell you the truth part of me wants to see her relax or earn money for school. Part of me is afraid of hurting my back and the biggest part of me is lazy.
I’m going to the shore with Hubs this weekend. His high school is having a gathering near where we vacation and so we will drop in there. We have taken overnight trips here or there. Most are only that-overnight-but a few have been two. This one is Friday to Monday. FOUR DAYS! I am so excited to be away from our computers, cell phones and cable tv. I used to worry about my kids when I went away, but now I worry that the dogs won’t poop for them. (Bandit avoids it) Now I’ll worry that Mordecai will eat all of Bandit’s food when he’s not looking. Damn ‘kids’……
Started shopping for my future grandSON. He already has some Philadelphia Union gear.(YAY) I am also looking at shower gifts. When did kid stuff get to be so fucking expensive? It’s a racket. The gear for humans that will barely have time to wear/use/fit in is atrociously costly. $500 and up for a crib? $300+ for a car seat that they will use for little more than a year? Holy shit!
And so, that is my wildly exciting life. What have you been up to?
I smell them….On your clothes, on your hair, in your office. It follows you. It is part of the smell that is ‘you’. Even after your shower, I smell it from your pores.
I taste them….As you kiss me, I taste them. Even after the mouthwash, it comes from your lungs. Your kisses have always tasted this way. I wonder if I would miss it if you quit.
I will admit, that even after considering myself ‘quit’, I have smoked….when drinking. Not with family…not that. But with friends. And I will return home and not want one. Not a single one. No matter what I am doing or not doing, I have no desire…..
I see your pack lying on your desk….open. You smoke so much and I wonder if you would miss one, or two, or four, if I took them to smoke at my leisure. I can see myself sneaking one when I go downstairs to do laundry. The basement is primarily my domain. Would you know? Would you taste them on my kisses? Would you smell it on my hair? My clothes?
I spend my days alone. Would you know if I walked to the store and bought an entire pack? Would you pop in suddenly while in the area and smell the lingering smoke I sneaked when I was in the bathroom? Would you notice more butts in your ashtray? The ones I smoked while I had my morning coffee?
This hasn’t happened.
It could. I know it could happen very easily. Is this how an alcoholic feels when they are ‘on the wagon’? Is this how every addict feels? Sometimes I want a cigarette so fucking bad. I want to feel that first fresh inhale. I want to feel that last drag burn my lip. I know I’ll hate the aftertaste. I’ll hate the smell. I’ll hate knowing that my shampoo isn’t what will make my hair fragrant.
But sometimes…..just sometimes…..I want it so bad…..
A bouncer, a mullet-wearing trucker, and an Aryan brother…..
No. This is not the opening of a joke so maybe I should start at the beginning……
After leaving the city of Pittsburgh, Bubblewench and I made our way to Cincinnati, where we picked the third of our little travelling group, Sybil Law. We chilled out with Sybil overnight (which included a small corner bar, a trip out the door – withholding name to avoid embarrassment *bw*-and a rough night of “omg, I shouldn’t have had so much to drink”) The following day we went to visit MattMan (you can read about it here)
Due to the fact that MattMan passed out fell asleep, we called it an early night there, but ended up at the bar across the parking lot from our dive lovely accommodations. We walked in and immediately, Sybil was beset by a tatted up douchenozzle a patron of the establishment. We outside for a smoke (and to get away from him) but he followed us outside. Sybil made sure to say “I’m married” but he heard “I’m ready to jump on your dick” He actually thought that the key to her panties was “I am an Aryan brother”. That’s all she needed to hear. Suddenly the ‘bitch’ was unleashed. She proceeded to tell him the many ways that his beliefs were wrong. This argument continued for the remainder of the night. (Interspersed with “If you weren’t so cute, I’d hit you” and “You look like you wanna kick me in the balls”) Of course they were followed by Bubba the huge bouncer. He made sure that SonnyBoy kept his distance.
In the meantime, BW made friends with the bartender who promptly started hooking us up with lemondrops. (OMG!!) And me? Gary, the mullet-wearing trucker had taken a shine to me and not so subtly reminded me that “what happens on the road, stays on the road” DUDE! Are you fucking kidding me??? I could have been on the road for 10 years of celibacy and I STILL wouldn’t have looked at you twice!!! (But I did let him buy me a drink.)
We decided we’d had enough and went to our room. We laughed and agreed that we couldn’t wait to head back to Cincinnati.
Yeah, she’s hurtin’ but we all were. But it’s my blog and I choose not to show you my
I wish I had something worth blogging about. But I have nothing. The same thing is happening every day…..
I get up, walk on the treadmill, shower, eat and watch a movie. I do some paperwork, play with the dog or walk the dog, watch a movie and make dinner. I do laundry, straighten up the house and then hang out with hubs. This is the extent of it. Sometime I change around the order of doing things, but basically that is it. I am sick and tired of winter and I want spring to come.
This week, I’ll be headed to the Philadelphia Union’s first home game of the season. I am, of course, so very excited.
Also in April, I will once again team up with Bubblewench to head to Cincinnati to see our partner in crime, SybilLaw. Then with a bit of luck we will kidnap her and visit MattMan. Ah……I’ve never been so excited about illegal activities in my life!!
After bowling on Monday, I felt fabulous. I can’t tell you how many times Hubs looked at me and just said “What?”. It appears that I was grinning from ear to ear over the fact that I was pain free after a day of lifting, twisting and throwing the heavy balls around. Tuesday, I was kind of tired in a sleepy kind of way. And Wednesday, I had a followup visit with my doctor, in which I smiled some more about the new meds. But I coughed while in the chair and he looked into my ears, nose and throat.
“You have a sinus infection.”
“Are you sure? I feel okay, aside from a little sleepy.”
“Nope. You have a post nasal drip, redness in the nose and throat, and I heard a little something in your chest.”
He gave me a prescription and sent me on my way. It was too late to fill it, so we decided that Hubs would pick it up for me the next day. I went home and did a few things. By eight o’clock, I was dead tired. By nine, my throat hurt, and by ten, I had a temperature of 101* and the chills. The chills stuck around for the day and the fever for two more. When I woke up, I almost cried. My head hurt so bad that a cough felt like a bomb exploding. My humidifier once again became my best friend. Even the neti pot did nothing to move the gunk out of my head.
I went under the radar and locked myself away from humanity.
I stayed in my bed. I took my medicine on time. I blew my nose and coughed up lungs. I tried eating, but what’s the use? I can’t taste a damn thing. When the chills got to be too much for me, Bandit pressed himself tight against my thigh. Thank God because, my skin hurt to touch and the thought of a hot shower made me cringe. After four days, I got up, ate and showered. I changed the sheets and put on some real clothes and a spot of makeup.
I feel human again.
I am back to doing laundry. I went outside for a walk yesterday. I even cooked dinner once more. I still can’t taste anything and every morning I wake up with a glorious mouth of slime and cotton all over my teeth and gums, but I can breathe once more and I can cough without peeing my pants. (Progress)
Now my son has it. Now my Hubs is fighting it. Babygirl is coming home tomorrow.
If you buy a chick a new bedroom suite, it includes a new bed. If you buy a chick a new (bigger) bed, you have to buy her a new mattress. And if there is a new mattress, you need to buy the chick new sheets.
I bought some new flannel sheets for our new bed and since the bedroom set was our Christmas gift to each other, I made sure to wrap the sheets and put them under the tree. I was excited about these sheets, because the weather suddenly got very cold and the new sheets were flannel and they were also a very sexy solid black.
The week between Christmas and New Year, I was hit by a horrible virus. I was too weak to change the sheets. Every night, Hubs asked when the new ones would go onto the bed. Every night I bitched back “Whenever YOU get around to changing them! *you selfish bastard!*” (Now, I didn’t say the last part, but I sure as hell thought about it!) The truth is, I was afraid that I would fart in my sleep and shit all over my new sheets.
Finally, the day came that I felt better. I opened the sheets to wash them, and Hubs convinced me to forget about that. They were already very soft. They didn’t have that scratchy ‘new sheet’ feel. And so, since they only had a very slight manufactured smell, we put them on the bed.
The next day, my pajamas were covered in tribbles…..black, fuzzy balls of fluff too large to be considered lint. As I walked to the kitchen to let the dog out during the night, I had tracked them through the house. When I tinkled in the dark, I had tracked them through the hallway. They were everywhere. Now, I had done absolutely nothing while I was sick, and the laundry had piled up disgustingly. I had to wait one more day to wash those sheets.
Lint-everywhere-there were more pictures just like this……..several….just like this…..
This morning I woke up and repeated the trail of tribbles. It is doubly gross because I am taking down the holiday decorations. There is no point vacuuming yet, because I am leaving pine needles, glitter, cookie crumbs and such on the floor as well as the tribbles. My house looks like shit.
I took the sheets off the bed and put them into the wash. I was a wee bit concerned because the previous load of laundry was white towels and socks. While the machine was running, I took pictures of my floors. I wish I had taken a shot of my comb before my shower. It had fluff in the teeth- I kid you not. Bandit had fluff interspersed through his white fur. It looked like he was crawling with bugs.
The more I tried to sweep, the more it swirled away from the broom…..
When the washer finished, I took out the sheets and gave them a quick shake before putting them into the dryer. A flurry of black snow gently fell around me, landing on my clothes, my face, my head. It was all over the floor. The photo doesn’t do it justice. I was seething with frustration as I realized that I had to clean it all up.
This was all over the sides of my washer drum!
The more I tried to clean, the more I seemed to find. I remembered the episode of Star Trek in which the tribbles began to take over the Enterprise. Tears threatened. I took a deep breath and I put them into the dryer and hoped that the filter would take care of the offensive tribbles.
This shit is the consistency of foam….actual pillow foam…..NO SHIT!
Well, the dryer worked. It removed 99.9% of the lint. The filter was full. I emptied it and ran it a bit longer. This finally did it. Now they’ve been returned to the bed and they are soft and sweet smelling and comfy and cozy. My floors have been vacuumed and my pjs have been cleaned too. So far-so good. I’m sure when I wash them again, the lint will return to the dryer, but not as bad as this time.
Just one thing bothers me now……
Black sheets show the white flaky dry skin cells from my ashy legs and all of Bandit’s dander. *sigh* If it’s not one thing, it’s another…..
I could…… tell you that I am hunky dory, full of life and joy and other such stuff and nonsense, but I would be full of shit. I could….tell you that my house is the picture of holiday cheer, but again, I would be full of shit. I could….tell you about the wonderous anticipation I am feeling for the holidays……but there we have that shit again.
I do have lights up. I do have my tree up and before I go to bed tonight, Babygirl and I will have it adorned with ornaments full of memories. I have started baking. Just this past Saturday, I had Son1, Shenanigans and Jazz over here, along with Babygirl, my niece Alex and another friend and his son. We made pizzelles, and chocolate chip cookies. It was day full of laughter and fun. I was very much full of spirit. When everyone left, Hubs and I ran out for a few gifts and then had drinks.
But I still feel like something is missing. I don’t know what it is.
It’s like eating an apple…a beautiful, ripe, red apple that fills my mouth with it’s sweet, juicy goodness. As I crunch into it, I am happy……until I find a worm. No matter that I haven’t bitten said worm, it is there and the enjoyment of the apple is marred. Get it? That’s as close as I can get to describing the feeling.
I am very much “in the moment”. I am very happy when I’m with the family, with friends, shopping, baking, wrapping…. But when I am finished, when everyone leaves, when the paper and bows get put away, the feelings are similarly put away. Am I sad? No, not really. I’m not tired. I’m not sick. I just…….am.
I hope I can rouse myself enough to post again BEFORE Christmas. I want everyone to have a wonderful holiday. I want you know how much I love you all. I don’t want this particular post to be the one that sits here through the weekend.
This weekend I did some shopping at the King of Prussia mall with Son1 and Shenanigans. I was there once upon a time…..like when it opened “the Court” section in 1981. Back then, I was the mom of one-year-old Son1 and I was relatively broke. I went with a girlfriend who tried to talk me into spending $25 for a pair of white cotton ‘granny panties’ that said “Bloomingdale’s”. In all the interim years, the only thing that never changed about that mall was that it consisted of the higher end stores.
Flash forward to this Saturday. It was obvious from the parking lot that things were very different from the mall less than a couple of miles away from my house. The parking lot was full of Volvos, BMW’s and Hummers. Groups of shoppers were leaving the mall laden with bags from Michael Kors, Coach, and Tiffany’s. The girls headed into the malls wore their high heels and pricey boots. The guys were well-coifed and looked like ads from GQ Magazine. I felt out of place, even though I actually “dressed up” to go shopping!
The three of us had a great time. We window shopped, pointing out things for our “wish” lists. We imagined the ways that our homes would look if we could afford the things that were sold in some of the artsy stores. We stopped for lunch and ate Cajun food, something we talk about doing but never have the opportunity to do. While we ate, we watched the people who walked by us. Not only were the stores, and prices ‘higher’, but the shoppers were…..I don’t know the exact word…..
Girls walked by looking down their noses at each other, they pulled merchandise from racks and shelves, and then threw them back with disdain, as though cashmere sweaters weren’t good enough to touch their skin. The guys were in two groups, the ones who absolutely loved shopping and knew where to go and what to buy and the ones who were only there to kill time. Little kids whined until they got whatever they wanted and the parents……
The parents all seemed like they were somewhere else mentally. It was like a ‘chore’ to be there. They were on their phones arguing about whether to get the kids what they wanted or to get them what they needed to go on vacation. Some argued with their kids “No, they only have that bag in brown……But it’s not in black…..What do you want to do?….Fine, then ask your father to take you….I don’t care really….Don’t come home, it’s his night….”
The lights were bright and twinkling. The music wasn’t too loud but it was quite festive. Babies sat on Santa’s lap.
If I could ignore everyone except Son1 and Shenanigans, I could be in the holiday spirit. If I let the others in, I could be depressed by the lack of …. would it be ‘lack of humanity’? a ‘lack of joy’? a ‘lack of family warmth’? People pushed by us without a single “Excuse me” It was normal to hear “Tsk!” , followed by the loud-whisper “OMG, did you see that? How rude!”
I ignored the outside world. I enjoyed my day with Son1 and Shenanigan. I am going shopping tomorrow with an old friend. We’ll be going to a different mall. I am curious to see if this is normal behavior this year, or if this weekend’s adventure was an anomaly. I hope that people aren’t so indifferent this season…….
Yesterday, Hubs took me to the movies. We like to go to the movies once a month or so, depending on what is out there. I think the last one we saw was “The Expendables” (I have an opinion on that that I will let you in on in a second) But this time we went to see “Red”. I was so excited at seeing this because so many of my favorite stars were in it and I wanted to see Helen Mirren blow some shit up.
“Red” ……”Retired: Extremely Dangerous”
We (and by ‘we’ I mean ‘he’) thought the movie was supposed to start at 1:40. When we got there, we learned that it was actually going to start at 2:10. That’s a nice long wait. However, this gave us an opportunity to do something that we rarely do….get seats that were dead center of the theater. I love those seats. I am not assaulted by the soundtrack that booms out of speakers directly on one side of me. I see the entire screen head-on rather than off to the side. I don’t have to tilt my head back because I am too close and I don’t get distracted by the doors opening and closing because I am too far back. We also managed to take our time at the concession stand. We didn’t feel rushed by lots of people who were all anxious to see the same movie at the same time trying to get popcorn from the same poor harried girl. I have a feeling we will do that again some time.
The next thing I noticed, was that this was “Senior Citizen Time” . We went to the movie so early because we had no other plans for the day. It was something to do. But we were surrounded by old people! “Oh dear”, “My Goodness” and “Well that was violent!” was heard more than once during the movie. It was a far cry from hearing someone yelling “Fuck Yeah!” when the bad guy gets blown up! A young guy dared to speak during the beginning of the film (it’s one of my peeves and I was highly annoyed.) An old fellow turned around and yelled out ,”If ya wanna talk you can walk the hell out. I sure as hell don’t wanna listen to you talk about cool the movie is. WE KNOW. WE’RE WATCHING IT TOO!” That is the best thing about old people. They’re too old to give a fuck about making a scene!
This movie was great. If you’ve ever seen an action movie with Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich, or Bruce Willis, you need to see this one. They haven’t lost a thing. It had a smart premise, it was well acted, the stunts weren’t ‘over-the-top’ and it was funny. Helen Mirren? Funny, funny lady and she was a gem as spy who missed killing people. To see her in an evening gown and army boots shooting a machine gun was a joy.
Now this is where I need to tell you about “The Expendables”. I feel that a comparison needs to be made. We saw that one and I was disappointed in it. The story line was ‘meh’ , but I didn’t expect much because it was written by Sly Stallone. I expected big booms and corny “I’ll-fuck-you-up” dialog. But…..I thought they tried too hard. The booms were too big and unbelievable. Stallone as a hero just doesn’t cut it anymore. Mickey Rourke was under used in it as was Jason Statham. I don’t know why it wasn’t better. It had all the old action stars and had the potential to be a really great flick. “Red” was just better. Go see it.
Now the last thing.
Why do we have to sit through the end credits to get one last tidbit? The first few movies that did it actually dangled a carrot of what was going to come in the future. Then it turned into a somewhat funny joke. Now, it’s just stupid and annoying. Everyone jumps out of their seat and makes their way to the exits where they all stand around-blocking the aisles- to see if something is going to be there at the end. “The lights didn’t come on yet! That means a “last scene” ” . I’m tired of them and they have to stop. How about this? The end. Cast: list the main actors. “Last scene” and then all the other credits. DONE!